#fic link in replies btw

[aziidaa]

“His companion’s eyes are fever-bright, staring up at him so fervently it feels like worship. He doesn’t have words for what that does to him.”

been meaning to draw a scene from this fic for a While now,,, took me long enough LOL have some doomed toxic yaoi

[receding-tides]

where do the splatoon writers hang out i need to be autistic with them

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari what do you mean u write fics on ur phone 😭 how are u just casually writing 8.9k + words on your phone 😭😭

PHDJDHUDHD IS THAT NOT NROMAL?????????????? I THOUGHT THAT WAS THE STANDARD PROCEDURE HAVE I BEEN DOING IT WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME 😭😭😭😭 i literally want to write on my laptop SO bad just for the aesthetic but i can never get into it….. 😞����😞

wait alexis i have to know ok . what is ur usual writing method …. do u have any rituals 🎤🎤 i am looking to learn . all i do is drink lots of coffee and hope for the best i cant keep living like this

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[deadtower]

if you have writing you’d like a comment on/feedback on/whatever else drop it here!! i know writeblr is having a tough time right now bc No One Want To Work Comment so if i can help alleviate that in any way i’d love to

[anigst]

Hi :) do you have any male anime whump fanfic recommendations?

Hello <3

I have a few. i went thro my ao3 bookmarks and realized its been a long time since i last read a fanfic for anime (and some of the whump fics i saved dont appeal to me anymore) but!:

what is a gift? (what is a sacrifice?) by cywscross (Bleach)

Aizen burns Urahara's wings and he's dying, so Ichigo gives up his own wings to save Urahara :)

im not into wingfics but i read this one bcs i absolutely love everything Cross writes. and i was not disappointed!!. its well written and the physical and emotional whump were so good!!

"But he’s never going to need them again, after today. Urahara will, and Ichigo cares enough about him that sacrificing one more thing isn’t such a hard decision after all.

He rolls onto his feet, and with barely a thought, he’s disappeared and reappeared a foot away from Urahara. He looks even worse up close, his back nothing but raw charred flesh where his wings were once attached, and even unconscious, his colourless face is strained with agony."

and i'm nothing like you by aloneintherain (BNHA)

im a big BIG fan of being forced to hurt your friends trope

forget-me-not by quitea (Run with the Wind)

Hanahaki disease au :)

Fall by BeyondTheClouds777 (Haikyuu)

Hinata dislocates his knee

Break by BeyondTheClouds777 (Haikyuu)

bc who doesn't love a cute sickfic

That's all I have.

Anyone who sees this is obligated to tell me their favorite anime whump fic (please)

[yujisgirl]

Yuji NSFW Links / Visuals ᥫ᭡

... with short fics <3

These are real ns//fw links btw! Human bodies etc not animated! Need to be signed into Twitter/X to see these videos ♡

These stories happen in chronological order! ... ! afab reader

Next: Toji + Choso + Gojo + Nanami + Shiu + Sukuna + Higuruma... so stay tuned!

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 Toji's Visuals: Click Here ❤︎

"Come over to my place after school?"

was all you told your highschool boyfriend, Itadori yuuji. It was supposed to be a little hang out; especially since exams had just been over and you both had missed each other so much.

Needless to say, you guys definitely "caught up" ...

Highschool boyfriend Yuuji!

જ⁀➴

"Does this look good on me?"

You definitely used this mall date as an excuse to rile yuji up even more. He's sure of it. Why else would you be picking the skimpiest swimsuits to "try on" - you're not even part of the swim team!

As soon as you guys left the mall, he grabs your arm and brings you over to an alley, "Need to fuck this hole before we leave"

In public with Yuji

જ⁀➴

"Do you want your present now?"

you said . Yuji tilts his head in confusion, his graduation cap threatening to fall of his pink hair as he raises his wrist, dangling the bracelet you had just gifted him, "Isnt this your present?".

"I have another one you know" You gesture to the Love Motel just down the street.

Your graduation gift to Yuuji

જ⁀➴

"I love you. I love every part of you"

The first time yuji had said "I love you" was when you came to visit him in college. The pain of being away from you only heightened his desires and needs. He needs you, not just in a sexual way but in every part of his life, through and through.

He worships every inch of your body

જ⁀➴

"Lets test our new bed, yeah?"

Maybe it was the adrenaline of finally moving in with yuji, Maybe it was the stress build up from the moving process but as soon as the land lord left your new house you guys were onto each other like animals.

You tested the firmness of every single furniture you bought. The bed, the new sofa, the kitchen counter, the beanbag that you got from Yuji's old house, and of course the balcony.

Testing beds with Yuuji

Testing beds Part 2.

જ⁀➴

"Is this why you wanted to move in together?"

you giggled. "Fuck." Yuji was too pussy drunk to even form a coherent reply, "m'you feel so good. Wanna live in this pussy forever"

Morning's with Yuuji

જ⁀➴

"Im reading right now"

you said.

Yuji pouts.

Shit. Thats your soft spot.

"Fine, you win."

જ⁀➴

"Babe, you really shouldnt wear that around me"

yuji's eyes werent even looking into yours, he was staring right at your boob window.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Makes me wanna suck on your tits" He deadpanned, eyes tracing the curves of your breasts.

"Whats stopping you?"

જ⁀➴

"Good job baby"

was all you said. Really.

How were you supposed to know that it would result in a marathon of rounds with Yuji?

He finally got recognised as a Jujutsu sorcerer by the elders, and you couldnt be more happy for your boyfriend. You expected him to come home with tears in his eyes, or something but no- he came home and went straight to your room, "Baby, I need to fuck you"

Is it his fault that youre all that plagues his mind night and day, and when he experienced emotions in a grand scale, he immediately gets horny?

Maybe you're all he needs

[bloodreinasbathwater]

On Thin Ice

Jack Hughes X Reader

best friends brother au!

a;n I haven't touched this fic in so long because I thought u guys didn't like it, but when I checked the notes, it actually did pretty good. I have so much work to put out that I'm excited for you guys to read. This chapter is pretty short btw. Happy reading.

warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, forced proximity

masterlist link

previous chapter here :)

word count - 3295

...

The apartment was enveloped in an eerie calm as y/n trotted through the hallways, her footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor. She had been staying in Luke's apartment for the past two days, the slow, eventful weekend rolling by, and it was now Sunday.

As she made her way through the living room, she huffed in annoyance, kicking away a stray pair of socks left carelessly on the floor. "fuckin Luke," she grumbled, making a mental note to throw the socks in the laundry bin on her way back to the guest room.

Y/n rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, the sound of a movie playing on the TV catching her attention. She glanced over at the couch, where Jack sat with his arms relaxed on the top of the pillows, his neck craned to watch her, a contemplative look on his face.

"Hi, stranger," Jack called out, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Hi, Jackie," y/n replied, returning his smile with a small one of her own. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing home, Luke hadn't mentioned anything about Jack skipping practice earlier.

As if reading her thoughts, Jack patted the seat next to him, his eyes glinting with an unspoken invitation. "Come sit with me?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her heart skipping a beat at the prospect of being alone with Jack. She couldn't deny the attraction that had been growing between them, the subtle flirtations and lingering glances that had become more frequent over the past few days.

She glanced around the room, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, her fingers fidgeting slightly as she made her decision.

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Y/n made her way over to the couch, her steps slow and deliberate. She could feel Jack's gaze following her every movement, adding to the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

As she sank into the plush cushions beside him, the warmth radiating from his body enveloped her, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne filled her senses, making her head swim slightly.

"What are you watching?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she gestured towards the TV. Her heart raced, and she hoped he couldn't hear it pounding in her chest.

Jack shrugged, his gaze never leaving her face. "Some old movie my mom used to watch. I wasn't really paying attention," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

Y/n nodded, suddenly hyperaware of how close they were sitting, their thighs nearly touching. The proximity made her skin tingle, and she felt a blush creeping up her neck. As if sensing her nerves, Jack draped his arm across the back of the couch, his fingers gently brushing against her shoulder. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively leaned slightly into him, seeking more of his warmth.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, like a velvet promise. "I don't bite... unless you want me to."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing at the implication of his words. She turned to face him, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, she knew that whatever was happening between them was far from over.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Can I ask you something?"

Y/n nodded, a bit taken aback by his demeanor. "Sure, what's up?" she replied, her voice soft with curiosity.

Jack leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching hers, a mix of earnestness and hesitance in his gaze. "Why didn't you want to give me your number that night at the bar, but you became friends with Luke?"

Y/n sighed, feeling a weight settle in her chest. She knew this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. She glanced around Jack's living room, taking in the cozy yet modern décor.

The soft light from a floor lamp cast a warm glow over the room, highlighting the sleek lines of the furniture and the muted colors of the decor. The TV played an old black-and-white movie in the background, its dialogue barely audible over the quiet hum of their conversation.

"Look, Jack," she began, turning back to him, her expression sincere. "I know about your reputation as a hockey player. I didn't want to be just another name on your list." Her eyes flicked to his, gauging his reaction.

Jack was visibly taken aback by her words, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. But a small, rueful smile played on his lips as he nodded, understanding her perspective. "Fair enough," he said, his voice softening. "But you should know, I'm not like that. That's just what the media wants me to be."

Y/n studied him for a moment, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, noticing the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. He looked almost boyish, his usual confident demeanor softened by the sincerity in his expression. The flickering light from the movie danced across his features, adding depth to the moment.

Before she could respond, Jack gestured towards the living room, his smile turning playful yet reassuring. "Let’s just watch the movie, yeah? I promise I'll be on my best behavior."

Y/n felt a smile tugging at her lips as she nodded, relaxing a bit. "Alright, Jack. Let's watch the movie." She settled back into the couch, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders.

Jack’s arm remained draped across the back of the couch, his fingers gently brushing her shoulder from time to time, a comforting presence.

They both turned their attention to the screen, where the classic film played out in black and white. The soft murmur of the movie's dialogue blended with the ambient sounds of the living room, creating a peaceful backdrop for the moment they shared.

…

About thirty minutes into the film, the sound of the apartment door opening caught their attention. The door creaked open, and Luke walked in, juggling several grocery bags.

He paused in the doorway, a wide grin spreading across his face as he noticed Y/n and Jack sitting together on the couch. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Luke teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You two alone together again?"

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, a blush spreading rapidly as she quickly stood up from the couch, her heart racing. "I was just waiting for you to get home… to start cooking dinner," she explained hurriedly, moving over to the table where Luke had set down the groceries. She could feel the heat in her face intensify, aware of how her voice sounded a bit too high-pitched in her effort to sound nonchalant.

Luke chuckled, shaking his head with amusement. "Sure, sure," he said, winking at Y/n. "Looks like you two were getting pretty cozy."

Y/n busied herself with unpacking the groceries, her hands moving swiftly to organize the items. She couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and excitement at being caught alone with Jack once more.

The memory of his closeness, his touch, lingered in her mind, making it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. She could feel the weight of Jack's gaze on her, intense and unyielding, from his spot on the couch.

Jack stretched, his movements casual but his eyes never leaving Y/n. He leaned back, his arm draped over the back of the couch, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Don't mind Luke," he called out, his tone light and teasing. "He's just jealous."

Luke laughed as he joined Y/n in the kitchen, helping her unpack the groceries. "Jealous? Of what?" he retorted, glancing between the two of them. "You two are the ones having a movie night without me…Again."

Y/n smiled, shaking her head as she started preparing the ingredients for dinner. The kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping vegetables and the clinking of utensils, a domestic rhythm that contrasted with the earlier tension. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of Jack's eyes on her, watching her every move with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

As she worked, she stole a glance at Jack, who was now fully engrossed in the movie but still wore that small, enigmatic smile. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness of his expression whenever he looked her way.

It made her heart flutter, knowing that despite the interruption, the connection between them was undeniable and growing stronger with each passing moment.

Luke, noticing the subtle exchanges, shook his head with a knowing smile. "Alright, let's get this dinner started. I'm starving," he said, breaking the silence and adding a bit of normalcy to the evening. "And maybe after, you two can tell me all about this movie you were definitely watching."

Y/n laughed, the sound light and genuine, as she continued preparing dinner, feeling a sense of anticipation for what the rest of the evening might bring.

…

After dinner, the conversation shifted as Luke brought up his recent date. "So, Y/n, what do you think about me going on that second date with Sophie?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head, a satisfied groan escaping his lips. The remnants of a hearty meal lay scattered across the table, a testament to Y/n's culinary skills.

Y/n shook her head, a playful yet concerned look on her face. "Honestly, Luke, I don't think it's a good idea," she said, beginning to gather the empty plates. "She seems nice, but I have a feeling she's not really your type."

Luke raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really? And why's that?" he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Well, for starters," Y/n began, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she explained, "she barely laughed at your jokes, and we all know that's a red flag. Plus, she kept checking her phone during dinner, she said she didn’t want anything serious with you, the list could go on."

As Y/n spoke, Jack found himself unable to look away. Her animated gestures, the way her eyes lit up when she was passionate about something, the subtle smile playing on her lips—it all captivated him. He didn't realize he was staring until Luke's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Hey, earth to Jack," Luke called out, smirking. "You good, man? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Y/n glanced over, catching Jack's gaze and laughing. "Yeah, Jack, you okay over there?" she teased, her foot reaching out under the table to gently caress his leg in a playful manner.

Jack's cheeks turned a shade of red that matched the intensity of his smile. He stammered slightly, "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost in thought."

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "Okay, now that we've thoroughly embarrassed Jack, let's go play a game," he said, pushing himself up from the chair and patting Jack on the shoulder.

Jack, still flustered but smiling, nodded. "You're on, little brother," he replied, his competitive nature instantly piqued.

The two men made their way to the living room, their banter filling the air as they set up the Xbox. Y/n could hear the familiar sounds of the NHL game starting up, the commentators' voices blaring through the speakers. She lingered for a moment, watching them, a smile playing on her lips.

…

Y/n found herself alone in the kitchen, elbow-deep in soapy water as she tackled the dishes. The sound of the boys' laughter and the clashing of virtual hockey sticks drifted in from the living room, but she paid them no mind, focusing instead on the plates and glasses before her.

she stood at the sink, humming a gentle melody to herself. The warm water and suds caressed her hands, and she found a certain peace in the mundane task.

So engrossed was she in her task that she failed to notice the quiet footsteps approaching from behind. It wasn't until a solid form brushed against her back that she realized she was no longer alone.

Before she could react, a pair of strong arms reached around her, grabbing a clean dish towel from the counter. Startled, y/n gasped, spinning around to find herself face to face with Jack.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, her heart racing from the unexpected contact. "You scared me."

A smirk played on Jack's lips as he closed the distance between them, his body mere inches from hers. "Need some help?” he murmured, his voice low and sultry.

Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat as Jack reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, trailing along her jawline before cupping her cheek. The roughness of his palm contrasted with the softness of his touch, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I... I've got it, thanks," she managed to say, her voice slightly shaky.

"I couldn't help but notice," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing her skin, "how beautiful you look when you're concentrating like that."

Y/n's heart hammered in her chest, her words caught in her throat. "I... I was just... doing the dishes," she managed to stammer, her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze.

Jack's smile widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "And you do it so well," he teased, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her body.

He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just a breath away from hers. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the faint scent of his cologne filling her senses. Her mind raced, wondering if he would close the distance, if he would finally kiss her like she had imagined countless times before.

But just as she thought she couldn't take the tension any longer, Jack pulled away, a playful smirk on his face. He reached past her, grabbing a clean glass from the rack, and filled it with water from the tap. "I should probably get back to the game," he whispered, his voice low and teasing. "Luke's waiting for me to beat him again."

"Thanks for taking care of the dishes," he said, his tone light and teasing. "You're a real lifesaver."

With a wink, he sauntered back into the living room, leaving y/n breathless and flustered. She braced herself against the counter, her knees weak and her heart pounding. She couldn't help but wonder if Jack knew the effect he had on her, if he reveled in the power he held over her emotions.

Taking a deep breath, y/n tried to compose herself, but the memory of Jack's touch, his closeness, and the unspoken desire between them lingered, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

…

The apartment was shrouded in a quiet calm, the only sounds being the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of settling wood. Y/n had just finished washing up and was stepping out of the guest room, feeling the need for a late-night snack.

She padded softly down the hallway, her footsteps almost silent against the cool wooden floor. The smooth surface beneath her feet sent a gentle chill through her body, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

As she neared the kitchen, she noticed a shadow moving in the dim light. She paused, heart quickening, and realized it was Jack, standing in the hallway with his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, a hushed whisper, as if he didn't want to be overheard.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of his phone screen. She couldn't help but admire the way his broad shoulders filled out his t-shirt, the fabric stretching taut across his muscular back.

"No, I told you, it's not like that," Jack murmured into the phone, his tone serious yet soft. "I just need some time to figure things out."

Y/n felt a pang of curiosity but decided against eavesdropping. She quietly slipped into the kitchen, the cool air from the fridge hitting her as she opened the door and began rummaging through the contents. The chill sent a shiver down her spine, and she rubbed her arms to ward off the goosebumps.

As she searched for something to satisfy her late-night cravings, her mind drifted back to the earlier teasing moments with Jack and Luke. A small smile played on her lips as she remembered the playful banter and the way Jack's eyes had lingered on her just a little too long.

Suddenly, the kitchen lights flickered on, and a presence loomed behind her. Startled, she screeched, clutching her chest as she whirled around to see Jack standing there, a mischievous grin on his face.

Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage as she tried to catch her breath. She couldn't help but notice how close he was, the heat from his body radiating towards her in the small space of the kitchen.

"Damn it, Jack," she gasped, swatting at his chest playfully. "You scared me again today!" Her fingertips brushed against the firm muscles of his chest, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her skin tingled at his touch.

Jack chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sorry, Y/n. Couldn't resist," he said, his voice a low, comforting rumble. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping her. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Just needed a snack," she replied, trying to steady her breathing. "Couldn't sleep."

Jack leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving her face. "Me neither. Want some company?"

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Sure, why not," she said, pulling out some leftovers and setting them on the counter. She grabbed a couple of plates and handed one to Jack.

They stood there in comfortable silence, the only sound being the clinking of cutlery as they ate. Jack's eyes kept drifting to Y/n, admiring the way the soft kitchen light played on her features. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the air charged with a flirty tension.

After a few moments, Y/n sighed, breaking the silence. "Jack, can I ask you something now?" she began, her tone more serious now.

"Of course," Jack replied, setting his plate down and giving her his full attention.

"Why do you keep playing these games with me?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "One minute you're all flirty and sweet, and the next you're distant. If you keep joking around like this, you're gonna be on some thin ice."

Jack's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. He stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching. "I'll take that as a challenge," he said, his voice a low whisper, his breath warm against her skin. "I'm not playing games, Y/n. I just... I like being around you. Maybe I don't always know the right way to show it."

Y/n studied his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. But the tension between them was palpable, a mix of frustration and undeniable attraction. "Well, if you're serious, then show me. Because I won't put up with any more nonsense."

Jack's smile widened, and he nodded. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he took a step back. "Goodnight, Y/n."

As he walked away, Y/n felt a mix of emotions—excitement, confusion, and a touch of annoyance. Jack had a way of getting under her skin, but she couldn't deny the spark between them. She watched him disappear down the hallway, her heart racing, and wondered what tomorrow would bring.

...

Tag list <3

@rebelatbay @bunbunbl0gs, @ru-kru

[landothemuppet]

WILD CHERRY AND THE PAPAYA FLIRT (LN4) part 2

pairing: lando norris x onlyfan!reader

summary: it seems that the link between lando and the onlyfans girl become more obvious for the fans.

content warnings: onlyfan mentionned, suggestive content, disgusting men comments, insults, slut-shamming, mention of sugar daddies/baby, maybe bad grammar and english mistakes. thanks to @landonfour who took time to correct 99% of the fic!

author's note: And part 2 is out ! By the way, i don't know what's happening with the letter (being small and big) i'm trying to figure this out! I was thinking about a part three with a written part, what do you think of that? BTW, did you get all the movie references i put in part one? pretty obvious i would say, but funny. 

yourinstagram

liked by nobodycaressss5, ilovenorris, sugardaddy65 and 2,743 others yourinstagram a little someone ruins my red aesthetic. Thanks loverboy → ilovenorris loverboy 😭 i can't → mrbigredboss i don't love that color. Sweet baby what are you doing? → bigdenergy what's that crap? where are your sweet skin? → 4norrislan oh so, now sluttie-red posts in orange? → nowinfornorris and she said in her OF live than she doesn't know lando. ↳ nowiiis yeah what a clout chaser → sugardaddy67 i miss you babydoll.

yourinstagram posted a story

nobodycaressss5 replied to your story so, you received my gift? yourinstagram yes, thanks, loverboy. Can't wait to wear the dress nobodycaressss5 can't wait to see u in this yourinstagram gonna have to wait for my next live, loverboy nobodycaressss5 such a tease, baby. wanna priv cam after your live? yourinstagram you know what to do for that... nobodycaressss5 money's not a prob. Gonna make you fall in love with me

gossipwags

gossipwags after some of our dedicated followers went on (@)yourinstagram's OF live, the sulfurous girl said that she didn't know who lando is. However, she started to post some orange aesthetic, calling someone "loverboy" (which wasn't appreciated by most of her male followers). You can see through the slides that she received some HERMES gifts...and who has been seen, few days ago, in his car in Monaco, with some HERMES gifts bags? What do you think guys? coincidence?

landonorris is now streaming on twitch

instagram

yourusername is on live!

twitter

instagram

[buckysgrace]

first of all i wanted to say ur fics r absolutely amazing!!🥹🥹❤️second i wanted to request a one shot with shy virgin reader and experienced gator & so one day gator comes over to babysit reader & her little siblings bcuz their parents r good friends and gator finds out abt reader and becomes obsessed with corrupting her innocence w smut ,, tysm❤️❤️btw gator is older than her by a few yrs but she’s def older than 18,,,she’s 19 abt to turn 20

First of all thank you so much! I really appreciate that! And your request was so juicy ughhh in love. I hope you enjoy!! CW: Age gap (reader is 19, gator is 27), inexperienced reader, fem receiving oral sex, virginity loss, unprotective sex

“Why the hell do you need a babysitter?” Gator questioned, following you into the kitchen as you began to ruffle through the fridge for snacks for the boys. You knew that your four younger brothers would just protest and complain about the vegetables, but you were only doing what you were told. Your mother had been insistent that they eat something healthy before you ordered pizza. 

“I don’t,” You responded shyly, feeling like your body was buzzing from warmth, “The boys are just- they don’t listen to me very well.” You admitted truthfully. You usually hated when your parents went out. Majority of the time the house would be in a disaster when they returned and you were usually a frazzled puddle of nerves from not being able to keep up with the energy of all of them.

You didn’t know how they managed to do it, but they’d somehow convinced the Tillman’s eldest and only son to stay and help you until they returned. You were almost certain that this was worse than watching them alone. You’d suddenly lost your voice, your ability to think as soon as he’d entered the house. 

Your parents were friends, close enough that you had at least one dinner with them a month but distant enough that you had no idea how to speak to Gator. It didn’t help that he was older, cooler with a charm that left you flustered like you were ten again. Most of your middle school years had persisted of secretly crushing on him.

You faltered as you began to spread peanut butter on the celery sticks, hoping that your mother hadn’t brought that up. You glanced up at him quickly, but quickly calmed your nervous heart as you noticed an almost bored expression on his features. 

“Huh,” Gator leaned against the counter as he watched you, his fingertips linking together, “S’funny because I was told I needed to remind you about shutting off the stove, or something like that.” You felt your eyes widen, your lips parting as you quickly thought of a way to defend your previous mistake. 

“That happened once.” You spit out instead, shaking your head as you stacked the celery sticks on a plate. You felt flustered as you thought of the memory. It had been one accident after the other with the boys, leaving the cookies that had been in the oven long forgotten.

“Are you not in college?” He asked curiously, setting himself on one of the stools as he glanced at the way your brothers had dumped out another box of toys. You did your best not to grumble in frustration, knowing that you would more than likely end up cleaning that mess too. 

“I am,” You replied gently, “I go to the community college. It’s not too far. I like helping out my parents so it works.” You explained gently, knowing that there wouldn’t have been a way for you to afford anything fancy or out of state anyways. He nodded, looking a little interested as he brought a piece of celery up to his mouth.

“That’s sweet of you,” He replied as he continued to munch on a celery stick, “You’ve grown up a lot.” He mused, his eyes suddenly a whole lot more intense as you turned away shyly. You felt your lips curling into a gentle smile, trying to find the means to question him before your younger brothers were suddenly bustling into the kitchen. 

“But I like green!” One of your youngest brothers whined, pouting out his bottom lip as he stared up at you in heartbreak. You sighed as he clutched at your skirt, yanking on it to keep your attention on him. 

“Well switch with whomever has the green cup.” You tried to reason, giving him a brief smile as the volume in the kitchen continued to grow louder and louder. By the time you were finished speaking, you weren’t even sure that he heard you. You watched the way they roughly grabbed the snacks, sighing as peanut butter spread across their little fingers. 

“But I want green.” Your other brother protested, clutching the cup to his chest like it was something special. You sighed, wishing your parents would invest on buying the same colored cups as you began to pass out napkins to your messy brothers. 

“Hey,” Gator spoke up, drawing the four younger boys attention to him, “The same thing is in the cup, it doesn’t matter what color it is. You should tell your sister thanks.” He reminded them, raising his eyebrows swiftly as he spoke. You bit back a giggle, grinning at the way your little brothers turned towards you wide eyed.

“Thanks!” They shouted in unison before they were off again. You shot Gator a thankful smile, finally finding your own courage to meet his eyes. You liked the shape of them, how warm and soft they looked as he breezily returned a smile. 

The pizza didn’t take much longer to arrive and the rush of tiny feet towards you nearly made you drop the boxes onto the floor. Gator was there a second later, grinning as he took them from your hands and held them high over his head where your brothers couldn’t reach. 

You watched the way he set up their plates, his eyes darting as he tried to keep up with who was talking as they told him exactly what they liked and didn’t like. You stifled your own giggle, hoping that someone else realized what a handful they were. 

“You can sit here.” He said casually, his lips curling into a playful grin as he watched the way you were searching for a spot to join them in the living room. You were about to protest, not wanting him to sit on the floor until you realized that he was talking about his lap.

You exhaled, your breath feeling cold against your tongue despite your body warming at his suggestion. You glanced away quickly, stifling another nervous giggle as you nodded your head in agreement. It was silly. He was just being nice, letting you sit somewhere rather than the floor that was littered with legos. 

“Your birthday is soon, right?” He questioned softly, his breath hot against your exposed neck. You nodded your head shyly, suddenly feeling too awkward to eat as you gaze down at your lap instead of at him. 

“I’ll be twenty,” You responded as you pressed your fingertips together, glancing at the way the pink polish was beginning to chip, “I’m excited.” You told him truthfully, liking that you at least got one day out of the year where it could be about you. 

“Your boyfriend doing anything special for you?” His question caught you off guard, making your head snap up to meet his inquiring gaze. You stalled, eyes tracing across his moles and the soft hair above his top lip. You looked at his lips next, liking how pink they were. 

“No,” You giggled softly, unable to fight the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You told him bashfully, hoping that he didn’t think of you as a complete loser. You just had a hard time talking to guys your age. Or any guy really. 

“A pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” He teased as his fingers slid across your exposed knee, “How come?” You glanced over to your left, ensuring that your brothers were too busy playing to focus on where Gator’s hand was resting. 

“I don’t know,” You shrugged your shoulders softly, breath hitching as his calloused hand moved further up your bare skin, “I guess no one has been interested in me.” You continued to speak, feeling like you were in some sort of trance. It was hard to look away from his eyes. 

“You’ve never been with anyone?” He spoke a little lower, his voice slightly husky as your eyes dropped back down to his lips. You felt infatuated, unable to tear your gaze away as you watched the way his words rolled off of his tongue. 

“No,” You replied shyly, not sure how to handle the way his fingers were pressing into your skin, “I’m pretty boring.” You admitted a second later, but wondered if you should’ve switched that out with sheltered instead. 

“It’s sweet,” He responded as he drew his finger underneath the hem of your skirt, “It means you’re pure.” He mumbled softly, his eyes peeled to your face to gaze at your reaction. You parted your lips, your body feeling nearly too warm as you simmered on his comment. You shifted on his lap, hoping he couldn’t feel the way you were trying to press your thighs together.

“Oh,” You said as you looked away timidly, “I guess that’s right.” You replied gently, wondering if that made you more appealing to him. You tried to remind yourself that you were grown, that you definitely no longer had a crush on him. It was hard to follow through with those thoughts. You wondered if he knew how pretty he was.

He kept you on his lap the rest of the night, talking softly about his work and who he thought would make it into the superbowl this year. You didn’t know much about sports, but you clung to every word as his hand warmed your skin. It was nearly too hot, like the sketch of his palm would burn through your flesh. 

“It’s bedtime,” You reminded the boys once you finally found the courage to pull yourself away from Gator. You shuffled the leftover pizza into ziploc baggies, sure that at least one of them would get up in the  middle of the night to snack on it, “Go brush your teeth.” You reminded them a second later, giving your best stern look to tell them that you meant business.

The room erupted into a series of groans and complaints, but they slowly rose to do what you asked. They threw away their trash, tossed their cups into the sink before they began to race each other to see who could make it to the top of the stairs first. 

“Hey,” Gator’s loud voice rang into the air, pausing the movements of your younger brothers, “Are you forgetting something?” He asked as he tapped some of his fingers against the back of the couch. You felt like you were stuck again, staring at the way his long fingers moved. 

“We’ll get it later-,” One of them spoke up, trying to brush away the mess that you would inevitably end up cleaning later. 

“No,” Gator replied again, “You can clean it up first and then you can go get ready for bed.” He stated, sterner than you would’ve ever been able to handle. You watched, almost in amazement at the way they listened to him without complaint. 

You gave them fifteen minutes before you went into their rooms, ensuring that each boy was tucked in and actually trying to sleep. You liked having Gator’s presence lingering behind you as it seemed to actually make the boys listen to you. 

“Um,” You breathed out softly as you met him in the hallway again. The lights were dim, but you were still able to make out the slight curl of his lips as he tilted his head to watch you, “Do you want to see my room?” You asked him softly, not quite wanting him to leave yet. You weren’t sure when you’d see him again, or if you’d be able to. 

He looked at you curiously, an expression filling his eyes that you didn’t quite understand. It made you falter for just a second, before you were spurred on by the nod of his head. You moved first, slowly walking around him to the end of the hallway. 

“Cute,” He complimented as he looked around your room, “I like it.” He replied with a grin plastered on his lips. You shut the door gently behind him, not wanting your light to shine into one of your brother’s rooms and keep them up. 

“It’s not too girly?” You asked him softly, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed by the posters you had decorating your walls. Still, it was the only place that you could be on your own. 

“Very,” He said a second later, grinning as he turned his head to look at you, “But it’s very you.” He replied as he licked his bottom lip. You glanced down to your socks, feeling a little giggly that he thought he knew anything about you. 

“Oh,” You replied gently, biting back a smile as you held your fingers together, “Thank you. I really appreciate your help today.” You told him truthfully as you finally found the courage to look at him again. He looked so handsome, you weren’t sure how you were able to look away in the first place. 

“So if you don’t have a boyfriend,” Gator drew out slowly, suddenly making you feel small as he approached you, “Who are you wearing that for?” He hummed softly as he pressed his fingers against your elbows, stepping back just far enough that he could draw his eyes up and down the curve of your body. 

“What do you mean?” You whispered shyly, suddenly embarrassed at the outfit you were wearing. You didn’t think it was bad. It was a pale camisole and a skirt that ended against your thighs. It kept you cool from the warm heat that your brothers stirred up in the house. 

“Kinda short, don’t you think?” He asked you softly, his eyes flickering up towards yours again. You pursed your lips together, jolting a bit at the sensation of his fingertips touching against your soft sides. He drew them down softly, like he was tracing the shape of your body. 

“I thought it fit nicely.” You defended yourself lightly, wondering if he could feel the rough way your heart was beating underneath his skin. You leaned a little closer to him, enjoying how one hand dipped further against the hem of your skirt again. 

“It does,” He agreed as his hand fully slid underneath your skirt this time, “But it makes me wonder if you dressed up for a reason.” He mumbled, making your eyes widen as he played with the band of your panties.

“No.” You responded softly, feeling like your chest was collapsing in on yourself. He looked upon you, eyes flashing with the same expression as earlier as he slid his fingertip underneath your panties. You could feel your clit throbbing, growing wet from the sensation and excitement. You’d explored on your own before, but nothing ever felt right. 

His eyes stayed glued to your features, like he was waiting for you to stop him as he slowly used his free hand to unzip the side of your skirt. You held your breath, feeling frozen on the spot as the material fell to your feet. He looked just as inquisitive before, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

He moved both of his hands to your camisole next, tugging it over your head before he moved onto your bra. You felt like you were in a dream. All of your late night fantasies were coming true. You almost felt like you needed to pinch yourself, just to be sure. 

You moved your hands over to your chest, feeling very bashful suddenly. You’d never had anyone see yourself in this manner before, so exposed. You gulped down your own embarrassment, turning your eyes away so you couldn’t see him. 

“Don’t be shy,” He grinned as he pressed your hands back down to your sides, “You’re stunning.” He mumbled as he pressed his rough hands against your hips. He squeezed your flesh softly, keeping eye contact with you as he slowly fell to his knees.

You felt faint. You were sure you were going to pass out. His eyes were hazy and warm, now filled with what you thought might be lust. It made your thighs press together, your thoughts stalling as all you could do was focus on his movements instead. 

“What are you doing?” You asked him nervously as you pulled your fingers into a nervous fist. Gator’s warm breath tickled against the small amount of skin that was covered. 

“Wanna taste ya,” He mumbled as he slid his warm fingers against your thighs, “It’ll feel good. I promise.” He told you truthfully, raspily as he squeezed at your thighs. He pushed you back suddenly, knocking you onto your mattress with a squeal. 

He moved just as quick, crawling onto the bed and knocking some of your stuffed animals off in the process. Your lips were pressed into a silent laugh, heart hammering against your ribs as he slowly pulled each of your white socks off of your feet. His lips dragged against your right ankle, peppering soft kisses against your skin before he let both of your legs drop onto the mattress.

You quickly tried to press your thighs back together, feeling fully exposed now. He stopped your movements just as quickly, fully exposing you as he rested against the mattress on his stomach. You couldn’t focus on how silly he looked resting against your fuzzy blankets in his dark clothing, your mind only taking in the dark look in his eyes.

He turned away from you slowly, nuzzling his cool nose against your warm thigh before he pressed his pink lips against your upper thighs. You exhaled harshly, a tingle spreading up your body as your nipples suddenly grew hard.

Your body jolted at the feeling of his lips pressing against your sensitive clit. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your body as your head rolled back onto the pillows. You gasped, eyes fluttering as he slowly peppered his lips across your wet folds and clit.

You crooned, holding your hands above your head as Gator took a slow lick of your pussy. He gripped a hold of your thighs, keeping them forced apart as he lapped his tongue against your clit. He rolled his tongue against you languidly, creating more waves of pleasure through your body.

“So sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, his lips dragging against your folds as he spoke. You whimpered, your fingers twitching together at the need to press them through his slicked back hair, “You’ve got a tasty little cunt.” He praised, pulling away this time to look at you. Your eyes turned down in slow motion, looking at the line of drool that connected his lips to your pussy. 

“Okay,” You moaned softly, unsure of how you were supposed to respond to that. He laughed slowly, flicking his tongue across his wet lips before he dipped down between your legs again, “Oh.” You whined slowly, back arching as his lips fell to your wet cunt again.

He kissed at your pussy, lapped at your folds and clit in a sloppy manner that left jolts of pleasure racing up and down your body. You wrinkled your fingers through your pillow case, holding onto it like a lifeline as he moved his tongue against your throbbing hole.

He licked languidly at your hole, tracing his tongue across it before he slid his tongue inside of you. Your mouth parted, a loud moan escaping at the sudden intrusion. It felt good, too good. It made your stomach clench and your toes curl as a bright light filled your eyelids.

“Gator,” You whined, unsure of what you were going to say as he continued to flick his tongue inside of your fluttering hole. He moved one hand away, moving between your legs as he dragged his way back up to your sensitive bud, “S’nice. Right there.” You spit out, grinding your hips up as his tongue flicked languidly against your clit again.

He slid a finger inside of you slowly, meeting the same movement as your hips. You cried out at the intrusion, your walls burning at the slow sensation of him curling his finger inside of you. You could feel your thighs beginning to tremble as you licked the drool from the corner of your lips.

He moved his finger inside of you slowly, allowing you to adjust while he moved his lips messily against your folds. His nose pressed against your clit, smearing your slick around as he sucked on your soft folds.

“Oh, oh,” You mewled in awe, toes curling as a strong sense of pleasure pressed heavily onto your stomach. You slowly felt the walls breaking down, leaving you squirming as Gator held you down tightly with his free hand, “God, oh God!” You cried out, fists clenched tightly into your pillows as you came roughly. 

Gator groaned, his tongue flicked across your pussy rapidly as he tried to lick away the remnants of your cum. You whined, body vibrating from how sensitive you felt. He pulled away slowly, eyes dark and lips covered with your slick before he slowly crawled up the curve of your body. 

He traced his thumb across your lips first, like he was memorizing the shape and curve of them before he moved his slick covered lips against your own. He kissed you slowly, gently as your heart continued to beat against your chest.

He tasted as sweet as the flavored vapes he smoked. You moved your mouth cautiously, trying not to focus on if you were kissing him correctly and instead on the throbbing that was growing between your legs again. Your thighs were still wet, matching the slippery feeling of his lips on yours. 

His tongue slowly prodded against your mouth, parting your lips as he brought one hand up to your boob. He cupped your flesh softly, squeezing in his hand before he pinched at your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, feeling an unbearable amount of pleasure race to your clit again. 

He twisted you onto your side, taking the opportunity to move you as he pleased as your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. He pushed one of your knees up towards your chest as he straddled himself over your other leg that was stretched out. 

“Gator,” You breathed out softly, your chest rising and falling in quick spurts as he dragged his hands along your skin, “S’lot.” You admitted slowly, but didn’t want him to stop either. You watched with interest as he quickly shedded his clothes, barely giving you time to look at him.

You drank in as much as you could, from his broad shoulders to his muscular arms. You stared at his chest hair, noticing how it followed a simple line down to the rest of his body. 

“It’s okay,” He mumbled softly, leaning forward to drag his lips against yours slowly. You melted against his touch, your body shivering underneath his touch, “I’ll go slow.” He promised, settling back just a bit as he wrapped his long fingers around his cock.

You sat up a bit, eyes curious as you looked at the way he fit in his hand. A shaky gasp rolled off his tongue as you took in how long, how thick he was. You’d never had something that big inside of you before.

You felt odd speaking it out loud, but you thought his cock was pretty. His tip was a nice pink, precum leaking from his slit as he slowly jerked his hand up and down the length of his cock. Your eyes quickly drifted over his veins, the way his cock curved and the soft amount of hair it rested upon. 

“Just relax,” He mumbled, glancing up to you as he dragged his tip between your folds. You nodded your head, your mind feeling fuzzy as you fell back onto the pillows. You took a deep breath, soothing away your nerves as he slowly pressed his tip inside of your fluttering cunt, “S’alright.” 

Your eyebrows knitted together at the intrusion, your lungs stalling as you’d never felt so filled before. It wasn’t quite as painful as you imagined it would be. Your walls fluttered around his cock, stretching in a subtle burn as he filled you. 

“Oh,” You sighed softly, unsure if it was a gasp of pain or of pleasure, “Burns.” You managed at last, feeling like your lungs weren’t working. A soft groan left his lips as he leaned forward, his forehead fell onto yours as he reached between your legs.

“You’re doing so good,” He praised you softly, his lips kissing against the corner of your mouth as his thumb pressed against your sensitive bud. He rolled his thumb softly, pressing down on it gently as a spark of pleasure traveled up your spine, “You’re taking my cock so good, such a good little whore.”

You shivered underneath his touch, from his words as white hot pleasure traveled up your spine and down to your toes. His body felt too hot against your skin, his breathing coming out rugged against your cheek. You tilted your mouth up towards his, capturing your lips together in a sloppy motion.

He rubbed at your sensitive clit, making your body jerk as he filled his cock deep inside of you. You gasped against his lips, his tongue flicking over your mouth as your walls clenched around him. He groaned softly as he pressed down on your clit a little harder, making you cry out and your body jerk.

“Fuck,” He cursed as he pulled his head away from yours, his mouth parted in bliss as he stared at where your bodies were connected. You whimpered a little, your eyes fluttering at the way his cock was throbbing inside of your sore walls, “So pretty. You’re doing so good.” He reassured you again as he pressed his lips against the curve of your cheek. 

You focused on the way his lips moved against your hot skin, how he peppered kisses and slowly licked his saliva away with his tongue. You pressed your hand against his sweaty back, keeping him in place as you adjusted around his thick girth. 

“Feels good,” You whimpered, your hands mindlessly wandering down his spine on their own as you savored the curve of his cock pressing against the spot that made your eyes roll in the back of your head, “Oh God.” Gator groaned, his fingertips digging deep into your flesh as he pushed your leg further against your chest.

“Jesus,” He groaned as his tongue fell against his bottom lip, his eyes hooded as he stared down at where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt, “You’re such a good little whore, taking my cock so well.” He grunted, shifting back just enough that only the head of his cock remained in you. You whimpered, sure that he was going to pull away before he filled you in a rough motion again.

You crooned at the feeling of being filled again so suddenly, your walls sore as you clamped down around his throbbing cock. Your clit was vibrating as loud moans rolled off of your tongue, bouncing off of the walls of your room. 

“Right there,” You begged him, your eyes fluttering in awe as you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your bundle of nerves. It made you gasp, your body stalling underneath him as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your wet walls, “Oh God, please, please.” You begged him, unsure of what you were asking but knowing that you didn’t want him to stop. 

“Are you my whore?” He asked huskily against your ear, flicking his tongue out against your earlobe. You whined at the sensation, your body shivering underneath him as he pressed his sweaty body closer against yours. His flesh melted against your own, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. 

“Yes,” You cried out, not caring if you were signing your life away. You just didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want him to pull out of you. You liked the feeling of your bodies connected, of his cock throbbing inside of your wet walls, “I’m your whore.” A whine stalled in your chest, stalling as Gator crashed his lips against yours again. His thrusts were deep and rough, jerking your body roughly across the mattress as he moved. 

He kissed you harshly, stealing the air from your lungs as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your fluttering walls. You clamped down around him, your pussy squelching at his rough movements. You cried out against his mouth, quickly licking away his drool from his parted mouth. 

Your body shook, stomach clenching again as you came around his cock. You mewled, your head falling roughly into your pillows as you clung a hold of his wrist for dear life. You could feel yourself spasming, your ears ringing as you moaned into your pillow.

He groaned, his chin falling into the crook of your shoulder as his thrusts became rougher and faster. He huffed, his movements stalling as he pressed himself deep inside of you. The sound that left his mouth made your stomach curl again, your pussy clench as his spunk painted your walls.

He fell forward, groaning as his hair slowly fell to the side of his face. You breathed in the scent of him, eyes blinking as you wished to get a better look at him. You whimpered as he slowly moved, shifting his pulsing cock inside of you as he pressed his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

You melted, sure that you were slipping into the mattress as he grazed his lips against your own for just a fleeting second. He pulled away then, smiling gently as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. You faltered, wishing you had something to say before he sat up on his knees and slowly pulled his cock from your cunt.

You whimpered at the loss, wishing that he’d stay inside of you the rest of the night. Your heart began to beat slowly, nearly defeated as you watched him stand. Your eyes drifted across his back, moving quickly as you drew in the constellations across his back. You wanted to move forward, to use your fingers to count and trace the moles on his skin.

You were quiet as he rummaged for his pants, sure that he was about to leave without another word before he joined you in your bed again. You stifled a sound of surprise, watching as he took a deep inhale from his vape. He offered it to you next, but you quickly shook your head. You weren’t supposed to smoke. 

“Can we do this again?” You asked him bashfully, your tongue twisting awkwardly in your mouth at how nervous you felt. He chuckled as he turned towards you, wrapping his lips around his vape once again. 

“‘Course,” He breathed out, a cloud of smoke tickling your nose as he spoke, “I gotta teach you all the ropes.” He mumbled, pulling his vape down just enough to kiss away your worries. 

[nahoney22]

Hi. I was wondering if you would write for Krennic? I liked how you portrayed him in your thrawn fic. If yes, please can I have the NSFW dominant prompt number 29 with a fem reader?

Perhaps he and reader had been eyeing each other up for a while and they can’t resist anymore? Thank you in advance. 😊😊

A Deal with the Director***🌊

🫧 Pairings: Director Krennic X ImperialFemale!Reader

word count: 8.7k

prompts:

• “Suck on my fingers, get them nice and wet for me."

Plot: When you find yourself locking eyes with Director Krennic more than once, you thought nothing of it. But when you find yourself rather close and personal… it’s a different story.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit Sexual Content & Language, Soft!DomKrennic and Light!SubReader relationship, Female Imperial, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Finger Sucking, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Desk Sex, Uniform Kink, Dirty Talk, Strangers to Lovers, Forbidden Relationship, Sex With Your Boss, Authority Kink, Spanking, Implied Creampie , Reader gets Anxious, Prompt Request. Brea, Rein, Ronhar, Ralson are just random made up characters btw and don’t exist in the Star Wars universe.

A/N: Thanks for being my first Krennic request, anon! I had so much fun doing this so no wonder why it’s 8k plus words long. I’m going to be posting this in ao3 too so if you don’t want to red it all at once I’ve split it up into parts over there. 🩵

link: AO3 Krennic

You leaned against the console, adjusting the stiff collar of your uniform while your colleague and friend, Lieutenant Brea, leaned in closer, her voice low but animated as she indulges you with the latest gossip during an otherwise quiet shift on the bridge.

"I’m telling you, Krennic’s been a complete nightmare lately,” she whispered, her eyes flicking nervously toward the corridor leading to the command deck. “I was on maintenance duty last week when he stormed in. He’s usually uptight, but this time? He was snapping at people for breathing too loudly.”

You smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Sounds about right. I bet it’s because someone replaced his caf with decaf.”

Brea snorted, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “Or maybe he finally realised that cape of his isn’t as impressive as he thinks.”

You chuckled too but didn’t want to ruin the moment and say you actually quite like his cape…

The two of you shared a cheeky grin, but your amusement quickly turned to curiosity as you remembered something you’d overheard in the officer’s mess hall the day before. Leaning closer to Brea, you lowered your voice even more. “Actually, I heard from Lieutenant Ronhar that it’s got something to do with Tarkin.”

Brea’s eyes widened. “Tarkin? That explains it. I mean, who wouldn’t be in a foul mood dealing with him? Those two have hated each other for ages.”

“Apparently, the Governor’s been in direct contact with him, undermining Krennic’s authority on the Death Star project. You know how much Krennic hates being questioned…especially by someone like Tarkin.” You reply with a nod.

Brea shook her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s a wonder they haven’t killed each other yet. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if Krennic’s bad mood is because Tarkin’s finally found a way to outmaneuver him.”

You were just about to add your own two credits when the sharp hiss of the command deck doors sliding open sent a chill down your spine. Brea stiffened beside you, her expression going from relaxed to rigid in an instant. You didn’t need to look to know who had just entered. There was only one person whose mere presence could kill the atmosphere in the room that quickly.

Director Orson Krennic. Just the topic of conversation.

Both of you snapped your attention back to your consoles, fingers suddenly busy typing away at meaningless data as you fought to appear as though you were diligently focused. You could sense him before you saw him, the air around him practically crackling.

His clipped footsteps echoed ominously as he stalked across the deck, barking orders at officers in his path. “Lieutenant Rein, is there a reason these reports are incomplete? You’re telling me the entirety of this ship’s command structure is incapable of following basic protocol?”

Rein, visibly flustered, stammered out a response. “Sir, the system updates delayed the transfer—”

“Spare me your excuses,” Krennic snapped, his voice cold enough to frost over. “I expect results, not delays. If you can’t manage something as simple as a report, I’ll find someone who can.”

You couldn’t help yourself as curiosity got the better of you. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you saw him standing tall, his white uniform a stark contrast against the gray walls. His blue eyes, blazing with intensity, locked onto Rein, who looked ready to melt into the floor. Which is a shame seeing as you always quite liked Rein. Despite his arrogance.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Krennic’s gaze shifted— and met yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. His eyes, sharp and calculating, held yours with an intensity that made your knees shake. For a brief moment, everything seemed to stand still. It felt like he was seeing right through you, peeling back layers with that piercing stare.

And quickly realising you had been staring, you quickly turned back to your console, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Brea shot you a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

You leaned in, voice hushed and panicked. “I made eye contact.”

Brea’s eyes widened, “You what? Are you mad? He’s been chewing out anyone who so much as looks at him the wrong way!”

“Believe me, it wasn’t intentional,” you hissed back, your heart still racing. “It just… happened.”

“Forget it,” Brea whispered urgently. “Just keep your head down. Maybe he didn’t notice.”

But you weren’t so sure. He definitely noticed. Even as you pretended to be absorbed in your work, you could still feel the weight of his gaze, as if it lingered for a fraction longer on the back of your head more than necessary before moving on. There was something unsettling, and strangely magnetic, about the way he’d looked at you. You shuddered, not trying to think about it.

The rest of your shift passed in tense silence. Even after Krennic finally left the deck, the atmosphere remained charged. Nobody even dared speak and you were certain that Rein was crying in a corner somewhere. Brea shot you a nervous look, but all you could do was shake your head, still trying to shake off the odd feeling that had settled in your chest.

One thing was certain; working aboard an Imperial vessel was dangerous enough without catching the attention of someone like Director Krennic.

The hum of activity aboard the ship fell silent as Commander Ralson began his inspection. You stood at attention in a perfectly straight line alongside your fellow officers, boots polished, uniforms crisp. These routine checks were a necessary nuisance, and normally, you’d breeze through them without a second thought. But today, an uneasy feeling gnawed at you. A cold knot of tension curled in your stomach.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was just nerves from being up late working through endless reports. But your palms were sweating, something that never happened, and you couldn’t shake the sense that something more was coming.

Or someone else.

The Commander walked down the line, sharp eyes inspecting every detail, pausing now and then to critique the smallest flaw. As he drew closer, you steadied your breathing. You could handle Ralson—he was stern, but predictable. But before he could reach your spot, the doors hissed open with an unmistakable whoosh.

There he is again; Director Krennic.

You felt Brea stiffen beside you, a silent ripple of unease passing through the line. The director’s appearance was enough to make even the most seasoned officers tense up. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was Ralson’s routine. So why had he decided to show up?

“Director,” Ralson greeted, snapping to attention as Krennic approached. “I was just—”

“Carry on, Commander. I’m merely observing.” Krennic’s tone was cool, but there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice that left little room for discussion. He moved with calculated grace, his white cape swishing slightly as he surveyed the room with a sharp, almost predatory gaze. “I want to ensure everything is… perfect.”

A shiver ran down your spine as he said the word, the emphasis sending a subtle chill through the air. Krennic began to pace slowly down the line, inspecting each officer with an unnerving precision. Unlike Ralson, who was concerned with the standard details, Krennic’s gaze seemed to dig deeper; as if searching for weaknesses beneath the surface.

You focused straight ahead, trying to keep your expression neutral, even as you felt the weight of his presence drawing closer. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you cursed yourself silently. You never reacted like this to any other officer, no matter their rank. But there was something about Krennic—something that got under your skin in a way that was impossible to define.

When he finally reached your position, he slowed down, pausing right in front of you. He hadn’t stopped for anyone else. Not a single other officer had warranted more than a passing glance, but now, he was standing inches away, studying you.

Did he remember you from yesterday? There were over 1,000 officers on this vessel and you never stood out, or so you think.

The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through you. You had caught his eye in that brief, charged moment, and now you couldn’t help but wonder if it had left an impression—an impression you weren’t sure you wanted to make.

You could feel the heat of his gaze as it traced the lines of your uniform, then slowly traveled up to meet your eyes. Every instinct told you to keep staring straight ahead, to maintain discipline. But the longer he lingered, the harder it became to decide. Would it be disrespectful not to acknowledge him? Or was it more dangerous to meet his gaze and invite his scrutiny?

In the end, you opted for caution, keeping your focus rigidly forward. But Krennic wasn’t having it. He shifted ever so slightly, ensuring his line of sight intersected yours, forcing you into the dilemma you’d been dreading.

His eyes locked onto yours, and time seemed to stretch impossibly long. There was something unreadable in his expression, a mix of curiosity and calculation that sent a prickle of discomfort through your skin. It felt like he was analysing every thought behind your eyes. The air between you tightened with tension, your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

Finally, Krennic made a small, almost dismissive sound in his throat, something between a scoff and a clearing of his voice. The spell broke, and he moved on, continuing down the line without another word.

You exhaled shakily, realising only now that you’d been holding your breath. Brea, who had been standing to your right, leaned slightly in, her voice barely a whisper. “Relax. He’s just testing you. If he was going to tear you apart, he’d have done it already.”

Her attempt to calm you fell flat. You nodded minutely, but the knot of tension in your chest didn’t loosen. Instead, it twisted tighter, leaving you on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Krennic’s unpredictability was what unnerved you the most—you could never tell if his silence was a sign of approval or if he was simply waiting for the right moment to strike.

And the worst part? You still had no idea what he was thinking, what his intentions might be, or whether this was just the beginning of a game you were being drawn into.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

But you didn’t plan to think of him from then. Every single night.

The next few days blurred into a familiar routine. The ship hummed with the usual activity, the daily grind of assignments, reports, and inspections keeping you busy. Everything had returned to normal. Seemingly.

You hadn’t seen Director Krennic since that unsettling inspection, and life aboard the ship had resumed its regular pattern. But despite the return to routine, your mind remained troubled.

You’d hoped the lingering tension would vanish once Krennic was out of sight, out of mind. But it seemed he had carved out a space in your thoughts, one that you couldn’t quite push away. And Brea didn’t help either.

“Did you hear what I found out?” She asked, leaning over the console, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Apparently, Tarkin’s been stepping up his little power plays. He’s convinced the Emperor that Krennic’s lost control of the project. If Krennic’s mood couldn’t get any worse!”

You forced a half-hearted smile, normally ready to match her gossip with snarky quips or some dramatic theory. But today, you were quieter than usual, the usual banter falling flat. You could tell Brea noticed the change in your mood, but she narrowed it to exhaustion or a tough assignment. Which was not far from the truth.

You were tired but mainly because your mind was still rattled by Krennic’s staring. The sight of his eyes had stuck with you, replaying in your mind whenever you were alone.

You hadn’t told Brea about it and probably won’t, but you’d spent more than a few nights lying awake, wondering why he had singled you out. Why couldn’t you let it go? Worse yet, you caught yourself subtly scanning the corridors, half-hoping, half-dreading to see that white cape in the distance.

You were searching for him, and you hated yourself for it.

But as days passed and there was no sign of Krennic, you started to relax. You told yourself he had probably left on one of his shuttles, returning to oversee some other corner of his vast operation. It was for the best, you decided. Life was easier without the gnawing uncertainty his presence brought.

You were in the mess hall with Brea one afternoon, chatting over lunch, when a shadow fell over your table. Looking up, you saw Commander Ralson standing there, his expression stern.

“Commander,” you greeted, straightening slightly.

“Lieutenant,” he said, his voice formal, though you caught a hint of discomfort in his eyes. “Director Krennic requires your presence in his office. Immediately.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart lurched as a cold wave of anxiety surged through you. Brea shot you a wide-eyed look, biting her lip to keep from blurting out a comment, though you could practically see the questions swirling in her head.

“Understood,” you replied, keeping your voice steady despite the panic starting to bubble beneath the surface.

As you followed the Commander down the corridors, your mind raced, conjuring every worst-case scenario you could imagine. What could he want? Had you done something wrong? Was this some elaborate punishment for whatever offense you might’ve unknowingly committed? Maker, you knew you should’ve never looked at him.

You were ushered into Krennic’s private office, and the door slid shut behind you with a soft hiss. The room was sleek and cold, polished surfaces and sharp lines dominating the decor. It was almost clinical in its precision, every detail meticulously curated. But your focus was immediately drawn to the man seated behind the massive desk.

Krennic didn’t look up as you entered, his attention fixed on the datapad in front of him. His fingers tapped steadily on the device, the soft clicks echoing in the quiet room. For a long, agonising moment, you simply stood there, nerves prickling under your skin as you waited for him to acknowledge you.

You didn’t want to say it either but it was kinda rude he didn’t.

Finally, without lifting his gaze, he spoke. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, Lieutenant.”

His voice was smooth, almost indifferent, but you could hear the faintest edge to it. You swallowed hard, your palms clammy as you tried to find your voice. “Yes, sir.”

Krennic paused his work, leaning back in his chair as he finally looked up at you, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours with that same unnerving intensity from before. “The officer responsible for assisting me with project reports - what was it, Rein? - has… departed. Apparently, my expectations were too much for him.” There was a faint smirk on his lips, a mix of satisfaction and disdain.

He watched your reaction closely, as if weighing how you’d respond. You could feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to stay composed.

“And that replacement is… me?” you asked, though the answer was obvious.

“Precisely.” He clipped. “I require someone competent, someone who doesn’t wilt under pressure. I’m told you fit that description.”

You forced yourself to nod, though your thoughts were spiraling. Reports? That couldn’t be all there was to this. Why you, specifically? You had to bite back the urge to question him further, to ask what he really wanted. But you knew better than to push.

“Understood, Director,” you managed, your voice steady, if a bit hollow.

He stared at you a moment longer, as if gauging something deeper. The silence stretched just long enough before he leaned forward slightly, returning his attention to his datapad. “Good. You’ll start tomorrow at 0700 sharp. Don’t be late.”

You could only nod in response, the knot in your chest tightening as he dismissed you with a casual wave of his hand. You turned on your heel and exited the office, the door sliding shut behind you with a finality that sent a shudder down your spine.

As you walked back to the mess hall, Brea was the first person you saw, her eyes wide with curiosity as she rushed up to you. “Well? What did he want?”

You swallowed hard, still trying to process what had just happened. “He wants me to help him with project reports,” you said flatly, your mind still racing.

Brea’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding. He’s putting you in charge of that? Sounds like a nightmare.” She paused, her voice dropping lower. “But I bet there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

You didn’t answer.

As Brea continued talking, her words blurred into background noise, your thoughts returning to that cold office, to the unreadable expression on Krennic’s face.

Tomorrow will be interesting, to say the least.

You barely slept that night, your mind spinning with scenarios, each worse than the last. What if you made a mistake? What if Krennic was testing you? By the time your alarm chimed, you were already awake, staring at the ceiling, your nerves frayed.

By the time you reached Krennic’s office at 0700 sharp, you felt hollow, running on jittery adrenaline and determination.

But when you arrived, the office was empty.

The pristine room was eerily quiet, save for the steady hum of the ship’s systems. You looked around, unsure whether to sit down or wait outside. After a moment’s hesitation, you decided you couldn’t just stand there doing nothing.

You’d seen the collection of data devices stacked neatly on the side of his desk, ready for the day’s work. You assumed they were intended for you, so you entered and gathered them.

The pile of devices was heavier than you expected, and you couldn’t help but wonder why all the data couldn’t be put onto one device. You gathered everything into your arms, careful not to disturb anything else, but the stack was awkward to manage. As you straightened, one of the smaller devices slipped slightly, almost falling, and you quickly adjusted it. Unbeknownst to you, nestled at the bottom of the pile was one of Krennic’s personal files.

A file that was not meant for you.

You set up your workstation at the small desk across the room, your focus shifting to the reports you were supposed to compile. Time crawled by as you went through the data, trying to maintain sharp attention despite your fatigue. You were lost in the numbers and projections when the door slid open and the familiar click of boots on the polished floor echoed behind you.

Director Krennic entered, his expression cool and unreadable as ever. A rush of relief washed over you as didn’t seem displeased to find you working already. You offered a polite nod of acknowledgment. “Good morning, Director.”

He barely spared you a glance, already focused on his own work. “Lieutenant,” he greeted curtly before settling into his seat. You were about to turn back to your task, thinking that perhaps things might be going smoothly for once, when his voice cut through the silence again.

“Where is it?” Krennic’s tone was sharp, irritation lacing his words.

Your fingers paused mid-typing. You looked up, confused. “Sir?”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned his desk, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the polished surface. “There was a file here—one I specifically left out for my use. It’s missing.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, anxiety flaring. You turned to face him fully, a sinking feeling creeping into your stomach. “I… I’m not sure, Director. I didn’t touch anything except the data devices you left for me.”

Krennic’s gaze fixed on you. “Then where is it, Lieutenant?” he asked icily, “I find it hard to believe a file would simply disappear.”

Panic set in as you racked your brain, desperate to figure out what could have happened. Your eyes drifted down to your pile of devices—and there, half-hidden beneath the stack, was a slim, black datapad. Your heart dropped. You gasped, recognising the insignia marking it as one of Krennic’s personal files.

You swallowed hard and immediately grabbed the file, stepping forward with shaky hands. “I’m so sorry, sir. I must have picked it up by accident when I was gathering my work.”

His eyes darkened as you held out the datapad, his expression unreadable. “I see,” he said slowly, his voice devoid of emotion. He took the file from you, his fingers brushing yours just briefly, but it was his gaze that made you shiver.

For a tense moment, he studied you with unnerving intensity. Then, with a deliberate pause, he asked, “Did you read it?”

Your heart hammered in your chest, the question hanging in the air like a death sentence. “No, Director. I swear I didn’t,” you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Krennic leaned back in his chair, tapping the datapad lightly against his palm, considering. “Good. Because if you had,” he said, his tone low, “I wouldn’t be nearly as lenient.”

You nodded stiffly, unsure what to say. “Understood, Director. It won’t happen again.”

There was another long pause as he continued to watch you, and you found yourself standing taller, somehow more confident as you held his gaze. Finally, he gave a small, almost dismissive nod, as though deciding you were no longer worth his immediate attention. “See that it doesn’t.”

With that, he returned to his work as if nothing had happened, leaving you standing there, feeling both relieved and shaken. You quickly returned to your desk, your thoughts racing. The encounter left a bitter taste in your mouth—a reminder of just how precarious your position was.

You tried to focus on your work, eyes fixed on the screen, or in your case many screens, in front of you, but it was impossible to ignore him. Across the room, Krennic sat behind his desk, absorbed in whatever task demanded his attention. His brow furrowed in concentration as he read, fingers idly twirling a sleek, black pen with a dexterity that seemed almost effortless.

Your gaze drifted over to him before you could stop yourself, drawn in by the sharp angles of his face, the crisp lines of his perfectly tailored uniform. His appearance was always immaculate, a reflection of the discipline and precision he demanded from everyone around him. But it was his eyes that kept you lingering, those striking electric-blue eyes that seemed to pierce through anyone in their path. They were colder than ice, yet held a certain allure, a dangerous charm that you found yourself being drawn too.

The realisation hit you like a blast of cold air: you found him attractive.

Ridiculously attractive.

It was a thought that sent a jolt of panic through your chest. Why him, of all people? He was your Boss. But there was just something about him; something about the way he commanded a room, the aura of authority he carried effortlessly. It was infuriating and fascinating all at once.

As if on cue, Krennic suddenly looked up, his gaze locking onto yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, your face heating up as you pretended to be engrossed in the report. You held your breath, sincerely hoping he hadn’t caught you staring.

You risked a quick glance back, only to find his eyes still on you. But just as quickly as he’d looked, his attention returned to his work, and you exhaled, trying to convince yourself that it was just a coincidence.

But it wasn’t a one-time occurrence. Over the next few days, the strange game between you and Krennic continued. While you tried to focus on your assignments, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to him. It became a challenge—one that started to excite you. It was a dangerous game but Krennic seemed to be playing along.

When you stretched your arms, subtly arching your back, you could feel his eyes on you. If you stifled a yawn or let your teeth catch your lower lip in thought, his gaze would flicker to you, lingering just a moment too long on your lips. And you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you every time it happened.

There were moments when you swore he was watching you more intently than before, as if trying to unravel the thoughts running through your head. Yet he never commented on it. No reprimands, no acknowledgments—just that watchful stare.

You found yourself pushing the boundaries, testing the waters in subtle ways. Adjusting your posture, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, even letting out a soft, exaggerated sigh when you pretended to be frustrated with a report. Each time, his eyes would lift from whatever he was doing, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you, lingering before he returned to his work as if nothing had happened.

It was maddening.

And intoxicating.

You knew it was risky to toy with someone like Krennic, but you couldn’t help yourself. The thrill of catching his attention, of knowing that beneath his stoic exterior, something in him was attuned to your every movement. You did wonder what was going through his mind. Was this just another power play for him, a way to keep you on edge? Or was there something more beneath the surface? Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having his attention, even if it came with a twinge of fear.

You had just returned from your break, a little more relaxed after stepping away from the unrelenting tension that hung between you and Krennic for the past few days. But as you walked into the office, your tranquility was shattered—literally.

The crash of something smashing against the wall made you yelp, your heart lurching in your chest. You froze, wide-eyed, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Shards of shattered glass glistened on the floor beside you, the remnants of what was once a data device. Your gaze snapped to Krennic.

He was standing behind his desk, hair slightly disheveled, his usually impeccable composure nowhere to be seen. His hands were splayed flat against the polished surface of the desk, knuckles white, as he leaned forward with his shoulders heaving. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath, and the seething energy radiating from him was almost terrifying.

Your voice came out small and unsure, breaking the heavy silence. “S-Sir? Is everything okay?”

For a long, agonising moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze was locked somewhere distant, his usually sharp eyes now clouded with barely contained fury. You had never seen him like this.

But then you recall Brea’s gossip from earlier in the week; something about how Krennic was due for a transmission from Tarkin today. Given the state he was in, it was clear that conversation hadn’t gone too well.

Carefully, you moved toward his personal caf machine in the corner. The idea of making him a cup of caf wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was the only thing you could think of. Anything to diffuse the tension. You filled the cup, your fingers trembling slightly as you brought it over to his desk.

“I brought you some caf,” you said quietly, setting it down in front of him. “It looks like you might need it.”

For a long moment, Krennic didn’t react, his eyes still fixed on some invisible point far beyond the room. But then, almost as if he was waking from a trance, he blinked and his gaze slowly drifted to you. The storm in his eyes had softened, but there was something else there now—something vulnerable, almost unsure. His voice was low, barely above a murmur. “Did I hurt you?”

The sound of him saying your name, your real name, not “Lieutenant”, caught you off guard. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you shook your head. “No, sir,” you assured him, a soft sincerity in your tone.

Krennic exhaled a long breath, the tension visibly draining from him. He stood up straighter, his composure slowly knitting itself back together as he reached for the caf. It was only when he took a step closer to you that he seemed to notice how near you were standing. His eyes swept over your face, searching for something—perhaps fear or unease—but you held your ground, offering a small, genuine smile instead.

He took the caf you offered, raising the cup to his lips. As he took a slow sip, his eyes never left yours. “Nothing stronger?” he asked, an edge of dark humor with the question.

Your smile widened, and you shook your head lightly. “Not in this office, sir.”

There was a flicker of amusement, perhaps, or maybe even appreciation in his gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him like this, letting his guard slip, if only slightly. The man who usually carried himself with unshakeable control was showing you a crack in that armor.

Krennic sighed again, softer this time, and took another sip of the caf. The tension in the room had dissipated, and for a moment, it was just the two of you standing there, the usual unspoken games between you paused.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone quieter, almost reluctant, as though gratitude wasn’t something he often expressed. “For the caf… and for not running.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that you didn’t expect. “Anytime, sir.”

Krennic was just about to turn back to his desk when you moved without thinking. You stepped closer, your hand reaching out almost on instinct, fingers brushing through his hair, “here,” you whisper as you begin smoothing it into place. The strands of his hair were softer than you expected, slipping under your fingers with surprising ease. You straightened his collar next, tugging lightly to even out the fabric until it was perfectly aligned, followed by the collar of his cape.

But then the realisation hit you—what are you doing? Your breath caught in your throat as you registered the closeness between you, the warmth radiating off his body now that you were standing mere inches away. Krennic stiffened, only just realising what you had done as his eyes flicked down to your hands, then back to your flushed face.

Your mouth opened, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but the words came out in a flustered rush. “I—Sir, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could turn away and retreat, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist with surprising gentleness. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with command. You froze as he pulled you closer, the gap between your bodies vanishing. His breath was warm against your cheek, carrying the faint, comforting scent of the caf you had just brewed. Your pulse raced as his eyes scan over your face, studying you with an intensity that made you feel like one of the blueprints on his desk—scrutinised, analysed, evaluated.

“You don’t understand what you do to me,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he was confessing something he’d kept locked away. His grip on your wrist loosened, but his touch lingered, sliding down to rest against your waist. The heat of his palm seeped through the fabric of your uniform, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve been thinking about you ever since that day on the deck,” he continued, his tone dark and laced with something almost feral. “You caught my eye the moment you looked at me… and you haven’t left my mind since.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve ending buzzing with the tension that crackled between you. The way his eyes pinned you in place, the way his hand subtly flexed against your waist. It was too much, and yet not enough. You found your voice, shaky but eager to engage. “I thought it was just me,” you admitted, breath hitching as he leaned in even closer, so close that your noses nearly brushed.

The smirk that curled his lips was intoxicating, laced with satisfaction at your confession. “You’ve been teasing me,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill shooting straight through you. “Stretching… biting that lip of yours… do you think I didn’t notice?”

“I was hoping that you would,” you rasp as your eyes flicker to his lips. Your mouth went dry as you struggled to respond with anything, but before you could form anything, he surged forward and captured your lips with a dominant, demanding kiss.

The force of it stole your breath, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for hesitation. You gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You barely had time to respond before his hands were on you, strong and decisive, lifting you with ease. You let out a soft gasp as he set you down atop his desk, flimsi scattering beneath you as he stepped between your legs, slotting himself there with deliberate intent.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform as you kissed him back, just as fervent and needy as he was. “Director,” you whimper breathlessly.

The pressure of his lips against yours was intoxicating, a heady mix of desperation and desire that left you dizzy. One of his hands slid up your thigh, curling possessively around your hip as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing at your lips until you parted them with a soft moan; tongue wrapping around yours expertly.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were blazing, “You’re driving me mad,” he rasped, his voice hoarse as he trailed his thumb across your lower lip, eyes fixated on the way it trembled under his touch. “Every time I see you, it takes everything in me not to do exactly this.”

You could barely think, let alone form a reply. All you knew was that this was the breaking point—days, maybe weeks, of unspoken tension had led to this moment, and now there was no turning back. The thrill of it, the danger, was overwhelming. “Then don’t hold back,” you whispered, daring him with a gaze that matched his intensity.

A wicked grin spread across his lips, and before you could draw another breath, he was kissing you again—deeper, harder. His hand began to get tangled in your hair that had become loose from its tight bun as the other gripped your waist, pulling you even closer as you clung to him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

As Krennic stepped back, his eyes were heavy with lust and with intent. His gaze never wavered from yours as he slowly slid off his gloves, each movement deliberate, calculated. You shivered from the way he looked at you. It was like he was savouring every second, every inch of you.

He reached for your uniform, fingers grazing your shoulders as he began to undress you. The fabric slipped away from your skin with an excruciating slowness, leaving your chest exposed, clad only in your bra. His eyes darkened with admiration as his hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak that was protruding under the fabric, coaxing a soft gasp from your lips.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, as though in awe of what he was revealing. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the edge of lace before his other hand slid down to your waistband.

“Raise your hips, darling.” You do as he asks, completely in awe as he tugged your pants down, letting them pool at your ankles before carefully lifting them away. Now, you were left vulnerable before him, the cool material of the desk beneath you a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He discarded his gloves completely, tossing them aside without a care, and held his fingers to your lips. “Suck on my fingers. Get them nice and wet for me.”

The desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and without hesitation, you parted your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around them, sucking gently as you let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering shut in the process.

The taste of leather from his gloves was faint, but the sensation of his fingers in your mouth was overwhelmingly intimate. His gaze never left you, watching intently, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. The praise sent a flush of warmth through your body, and your moans deepened as you swirl your tongue over his fingertips.

He chuckled softly, a lustful, satisfied sound, before pulling his fingers free from your lips with a soft pop. He wasted no time as his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers sliding over the damp fabric of your underwear. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sighs in approval before he hooked them aside. The moment his fingers made contact with your slick heat, a gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively trembling.

“There we go,” he murmured, voice low and husky as he teased you with feather-light touches. “So ready… and all for me.”

He watched you intently, eyes half-lidded with desire as he explored you, fingers gliding with a smoothness that made you whimper. The way he looked at you—like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever laid eyes on—had your heart racing. You couldn’t hold back the small whimpers and gasps as his fingers pressed deeper, slipping inside your pussy, you moan out every ounce of need that had been building up between you for days.

Krennic leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me how much you want this.”

“I want it so much… please,” you breathed out, hardly recognising your own voice as you begged him.

The smirk on his lips grew darker, and without another word, he curled his finger deeper inside you, his fingers finding that spot within you that made your back arch and your breath hitch. The rhythm he set was both maddeningly slow and utterly precise, like he was savoring every little reaction you gave him, drawing out your pleasure until it was almost unbearable. “So receptive, aren’t you?”

“D-Director, don’t stop.. oh fuck.. please don’t stop.” You lay your back flat on the desk, legs spreading wider as your hands move over your breasts, pulling them out the cup of your bra and begin to pinch at your hardened nipples, desperate for that extra edge.

You hear him let out something similar to a whimper as he watches you, his other hand that had been resting on your thigh moving to brush over your clit, his fingers making fast work. “There you go, there you go my beautiful girl. Give in to me.”

Each touch, each movement was deliberate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he pushed you closer to the edge. But it was the look in his eyes-predatory and possessive- that had you crashing down with your high. You back arches from the table, panting his name as your legs tremble desperately with your release.

He doesn’t let up, chuckling as he pinches your sensitive clit as you cry out, unphased if anyone were to hear you. “F-Fuck! Please,” you cry, unsure what you are really trying to ask for.

Eventually, he lets go and takes your arms, sitting you up. You're dizzy, disoriented as he takes your chin between his fingers, making sure your gaze is on him. “You did so, so well.” He praises, moving his fingers to his lips and licking them, followed by him putting his fingers back into your mouth, tasting your aftermath.

You suck on his fingers like a woman starved and then lean into him, kissing him. He smiles against your lips, swallowing his small moans as you quietly beg him for more.

He began to undress, unfastening his uniform with practiced ease, but you suddenly reached out and took hold of his hands.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling with both anticipation and a daring excitement. “Can I have you… like this?” You gestured to his still-partially-clad form, your eyes roving over the impeccably sharp lines of his uniform. The thought of being taken by him while he remained in his authoritative attire stirred a deep, thrilling excitement in you.

Krennic raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Are you commanding the Director now?” His voice was a mix of amusement and curiosity, but there was no mistaking the gleam of intrigue in his eyes.

You flushed slightly, feeling a shiver of self-consciousness. “I didn’t mean to—” you began, but he interrupted you with a chuckle, clearly delighted by your boldness.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, his tone dropping to a low, seductive murmur, “then who am I to refuse?”

With a fluid motion, he released himself from his pants, the sight of his arousal makes you gasp. He stroked himself slowly, the motion smooth and controlled. Your gaze followed the movement of his hand, mesmerised by the way he seemed to effortlessly control his own pleasure.

“Sir,” you whispered, “you’re so…” you don’t even have the words, your mouth salivating as you watch him.

Krennic’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “You like that, don’t you? The authority, the control?”

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Yes, Director. I want you… now.”

He grinned, the expression a mix of pride and desire, and moved closer, positioning you carefully atop the desk. He guided you into a position that had you spread out in a way that made you feel utterly at his mercy. The cool surface of the desk was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body as he hovered above you, his uniform still immaculate.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart with deliberate slowness. You shudder under his touch, a small whine parting your lips as the tip of his cock settles upon your clit, his hips gently rocking back and forth to tease you. “You’re trembling,” he murmurs, “Is it fear… or something else, darling?”

You bite your lip, your breath catching as his voice sends shivers down your spine, watching his gorgeous swollen head starts to move between your folds this time. “You know exactly what it is, Director.”

“Such a clever girl. Always so eager to please.” His tone is teasing, but beneath it lies an edge of hunger, barely restrained. His hands trail down your body, brushing over your exposed skin, almost like he’s admiring a fine piece of art. He grabs his cock again and this time he pushes past the teasing and slips wonderfully inside you, filling you. There’s a wince on your tongue, eyes screwing shut as he stretches you. It had been a while.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles, his head tilting back as he settles inside you, allowing himself and you to adjust to his girth, “such a warm cunt.”

You whimper at his filthy words, watching between your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows as he begins to move in and out of you, his cock glimmering with your arousal before he pushes back into you.

His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I think you like being at my mercy,” he says softly, his voice laced with both challenge and curiosity. “You crave it, don’t you? That sense of submission… knowing that I’m in control.”

You swallow hard, feeling the truth of his words sink in just as his cock does. “Yes, Director,” you reply, your voice a whisper as your fingers grip the desk. “I trust you.”

For a brief moment, something flickers in his eyes—something more vulnerable, almost appreciative—but it’s quickly replaced by that signature smirk. “Good. Because I intend to take everything you’re willing to give.”

With that, Krennic presses you closer to him, his cock reaching that spot inside you with a heated jolt. “M-More, please.” You beg as he holds your thighs further apart as he starts to thrust with even strides, the pleasure like no other as you submit to him completely.

His groans are low and rough, his eyes fixed on watching his cock slip in and out of you with ease. He raises one of your legs, hooking it around his back as his hands begin to travel up your body.

Breath hitching, his fingers brush over your collarbone, tracing a line from your neck down to your chest where he then pinches and tugs gently at your nipples. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs. “A picture of submission and beauty, being devoured by me.” His thrusts become rough, the flimsi on his desk scattering below you as you lay fully back, your body thrusting up and down the desk with every powerful grind.

He leans over the top of you, capturing your lips in a kiss, claiming every ounce of your attention. You respond in kind, hands curling into the fabric of his uniform as you pull him closer, both of your legs now wrapping around his body, tangled in his cape.

“Director,” you whisper against his lips, the title now carrying a deeper, more intimate weight.

“Say that again,” he commands, his voice husky as he brushes his lips along your jaw, his fingers tightening their grip on you.

“Director,” you moan softly, your voice laced with submission and desire. The word is like a key, unlocking something primal in him as his gaze darkens with raw intensity. “F-Fuck, you’re so good pleasing me. Your cock is so thick.”

“That’s a good girl.” His voice is a velvet growl, full of dark promise, and his hands slide back to your waist, lifting you and flipping you so your face was now pressed down against his desk, legs dangling over the edge as he takes you from behind effortlessly. “Now, let’s see just how well you can follow orders.”

You moan desperately as he spanks your arse, swearing out loud in pleasure as his cock drills harsher into you than before, his hand tangled in your hair as he grips firmly onto it as he takes you.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he confesses, in a desperate moan, pulling out and slapping his arse with his cock before fucking straight back into you. “Since the moment I saw you watching me—.” he growls with a roll of his hips, “thinking you were being so subtle, so discreet. But I noticed.”

You can’t help but smirk, remembering every stolen glance, every time you tried to hide how much you were drawn to him. “I couldn’t help it,” you admit, voice breathless as you move yourself back up onto his cock. “You’re impossible to ignore.”

You don’t see it but his eyes flash with satisfaction, your walls tightening perfectly around his cock with every praise sent both ways. After a minute of brutal fucking, he flips you so you’re on your back again, stealing a kiss from your lips as he seethes back inside you.

Your back contorts, rising off the desk in an effort to press your hips further down, to take him deeper even when you see Krennic almost bottoming out—his cock pressed almost painfully against your cervix. “Stars, you’re so beautiful.” He moans in a higher octave, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands wrap around his back, clawing at his cape.

Your head spins with the thought that he was going to cum and coat your inside with his powerful, seed. Your body has submitted fully to him and is desperate to take more and more of him, to take all of him.

He leans back suddenly, one hand grabbing at your waist and the other moving to brush over your clit. “You’re close aren’t you, hm? You’re going to cum with me-!”

You see how affected he is—the sweat that bundled trickled down the side of his temple, his blue eyes half-lidded and so full of desire, his brows furrowed with pleasure. He’s going to cum soon and you can read it all over his face. “Such a divine pussy, you’re so beautiful.” He gasps and you’re in complete awe as you watch him come undone as you soon meet your high as stars start to blur in your eyes. “Fuck, cum with me, I’m fucking-!”

The next moments blur into a series of touches, kisses, and desperate whispered words as the tension that’s been building between you for days finally finds release. Your body trembles with the shake of your orgasm, his fingers working perfectly against your clit as he pumps inside of you.

And Krennic doesn’t hold back, and neither do you.

By the time he finally pulls away, breath ragged and chest heaving, the desk is askew, flimsi scattered, but neither of you care. His uniform remains perfectly in place, while you lay back, utterly spent and thoroughly satisfied. His fingers trail down your arm, the touch almost tender now, as he studies you with a look that’s oddly affectionate.

“You did well, darling,” he murmurs, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve more than earned my attention.”

Krennic adjusted his uniform a touch and then took a seat on the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes with a content expression.

Meanwhile you stood nearby, suddenly feeling shy and unsure, the intensity of what just happened leaving you at a slight loss. The confidence you’d felt just moments ago just vanished. After all, this was Director Krennic. Your superior. How were you supposed to act now?

Sensing your hesitation, Krennic leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking in your expression. With a softness that was different to his usual sharp demeanor, he reached out and took your hand. “Come here,” he said, the command wrapped in a velvet tone. There was a tenderness in the way he guided you closer, a hand resting on your hip as he coaxed you to sit on his lap.

Blushing, you settled against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the firmness of his embrace. He reached for the collar of his cape and gently wrapped it around your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but ask the question that had been lingering on your mind, your voice softer than usual. “Why… why did this happen?” Your fingers toyed with the edge of his cape, nervous yet curious.

Krennic paused for just a moment, his fingers brushing against your back in soothing, repetitive motions. “Because I’m drawn to you,” he admitted, his voice lower, more honest. “This isn’t just a fleeting indulgence. You’ve captured my attention in ways I didn’t anticipate. And no,” he added, his tone firm but reassuring, “this won’t be a one-time thing. But it must remain between us. Do you understand?”

You nodded, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as his hand continued its calming path up and down your back. There was something comforting about the way he held you now. Dominant yet caring.

“Director…” you began after a few minutes of gentle humming and touches, unsure of how to continue. You wanted to ask if you should get dressed, if you should return to your duties.

He responded with a soft, knowing smile, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “When we’re alone, you may call me Orson,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

You smiled shyly against his lips, whispering, “Orson,” testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange but intimate.

He chuckles, liking the way you said his name. “That’s better,” he whispered, trailing his fingers along your jawline. “Now, let’s take our time, shall we?”

Tags: @99tech99 @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tentakelspektakel @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings

[rainytrashh]

Hi! I hope you're okay 🫂💚 Do you have any spicy Marc headcanons/thoughts? (No pressure 💚)

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Marc NSFW Headcannons

Fic type-> Headcannons

Warnings-> Brief mention of violence, breeding kink, pegging (what can I say 🤷‍♀️)

Word count-> 795, 2-3 pages of a book

Sorry it took me so long to reply I’m on holiday rn and I haven’t been checking my phone much recently, I’ve only just seen this today 😔

But omg yes ofc I do <3

This is fem-aligned btw, just ask if you want a masc-aligned version

~Masterlist~

Please check out my other works either on here or on my AO3, the link is at the end <3

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LOVES it when you call him baby/sweetheart/etc, during sex. He’ll call you baby too dw, just generally loves the exchange of pet names between you two

Can’t decide between thighs or ass so he’ll just grope both 🤷‍♀️

Switch- tells anyone who asks he’s a dom but prefers to sub

Likes it fairly rough but if he’s topping he’ll go gentler on you because he loves you too much to hurt you

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it when he’s got you bent over the back of the couch though, watching his cum drip out of you and trail down your thighs

God your thighs

Has a bit of a breeding kink in that sense, not all the baby talk, (just the idea of having a baby terrifies him) but he’ll fill you up so good <3

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“Fuck baby, look at it leak out of you…”

“Marc…”

You feel some of his cum drip down your thigh, he’s quick to swipe it up with a finger and push it back inside of you.

“You can go one more time can’t you?”

“Baby-“

“I can’t resist it, and you have to admit that you like it too. Just imagine how full you’ll feel with two of my loads inside of you…”

You can’t help but groan at the thought as he massages your ass and lines himself up once more.

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Prefers praise over degradation (mommy issues 😭) but will let you call him a whore/call you one or something overtly sexual like that

Surprisingly open to pegging, you asked him after giving hints for a while (he knew what you were hinting about, he was just too embarrassed to say anything) and he refused to look you in eyes as he agreed

Tells you is favourite position is missionary, with either of you on top, but you found out he also really likes it when he’s face-down, ass-up for you

He likes it so much because of the vulnerability of the position, he just needs to let go and let someone else take care of him 😢

Also because you can trail kisses all down his back and he loves to feel your thighs against the back of his

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“God Marc you’re taking me so well.”

Your hips are pressed right against his as you grip his waist with just the right amount of firmness that he likes, keeping him in place.

“Just move, please?”

“Since you asked so nicely for it baby.”

You start to grind your hips against him as you lean down to place sweet kisses against his shoulder blades.

“Ah shit…” Barely a whisper that you manage to make out from him through breathy moans.

He tries to reach back with a hand to grab your thigh but only manages to hook his fingertips into the flesh of it.

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Although because of the latter, you suspect he has a thing for acting all tough and dom but then letting others pry his ‘hidden’ side out of him. Not quite like him being a brat but smth to that effect

‘Tall, dark and handsome ex-mercenary likes to take it up the ass from a woman’ yk? You think he gets off on that basically

And oh my God were you right on the money

You only found out cause you managed to disguise the question as meaningless banter cause if you brought it up directly you’d think he’d be too embarrassed to answer

You didn’t wanna scare him off with smth as abrupt as that 😔

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“Does tall, dark and handsome wanna get railed today?” You tease as you shift closer to him on the couch, leaning against him.

He hesitates to answer and averts his eyes from your intently staring ones.

“Don’t, don’t say railed. That sounds weird.”

He looks back at you only to be met with a shit-eating grin. He lets out a huff of air.

“Baby, what?”

You lean in closer and deciding to just go for it, you let your lips graze his jaw and say-

“Isn’t it what you like though? You like letting me fuck your brains out?” You plant a soft kiss against his neck as you wait patiently for an answer.

“Yea…”

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DO NOT HIT THIS POOR MAN 😭😭

Omg let me repeat this, he wants to be taken care of when you’re topping!!!

He just wants to let go and feel good he doesn’t need a needless throwback to last night when he was fighting some crime lord for Konshu 😢 (or last year, wtv the au calls for)

Yes, he likes it when he has to hold the headboard to keep his head from hitting it but don’t slap him round the face or anything 👎

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So that’s abt it for now, this has to be the speediest I’ve written anything 💪

Thanks for the request <3

My AO3

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Note for requester- Stop I had just finished writing this and I was like ‘who is this person?’ etc etc and omg as soon as I found out. Love your fanfics 🫶

[rosyjn]

"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," JAKE SULLY X READER SMUTTTT (MDNI)

(Btw this was inspired by one of @carpecaelo ‘s fics I’ll put the link in the replies!)

You sit by the fire, leaning back onto the tree trunk behind you. A leaf with pieces of teylu lays in your lap. You chew your food and look down at the fire, poking it around every few minutes with a stick.

You're sitting criss cross applesauce, as the smell of the fire and the sound of Pandora fill your senses. The light glows a bright orange, illuminating the forest in the night. Its warmth comforts you. It is calm and peaceful, unlike how the day had gone.

You have this moment all to yourself. This tranquil moment to contrast with the typical Na'vi life that you live.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jake Sully's footsteps approach you from behind trees and he awkwardly adjusts his loincloth from the back. You turn your head, see him, and turn back around. His idiot grin interrupts your calmness.

You set your teylu down next to you and sigh. His big feet rush over to you and he kneels.

"I got something for you," he smirks and holds up a glowing white flower. "Tawtsngal," through his American accent, he excitedly pronounces the Na'vi name for Panopyra.

"You know what this is, Jake?" you roll your eyes and touch the flower.

"Yes, of course yawne, it is a natural aphrodisiac. A flower of love," his voice is lively and comedic. His joking tone annoys you. However, he's learning, and he's excited to show it. He's learning about his new life on Pandora and his surroundings. He's also learning how to make his wife happy, so he holds the flower closer to you, to smell.

"Stop playing," you push it away. "Who told you the name for that, Mo'at?" you ask, shaking your head.

"No, Norm did," he smiles and leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, only for you to hiss and slap him away.

"Jake, please," your ears fold back. His eyes widen like a puppy dog and his smile fades. You watch him through the corner of your eye. You don't WANT to be mean to him, but sometimes, having a mate is hard.

He looks down into his lap and fiddles with his hands.

"You normally call me Ma'Jake..." he mumbles.

You're irritated right now, and you're tired. But you can't do this to him. He's trying his best. You know he has good intentions.

"Ma'Jake," you sigh, tilting your head and looking at him. His eyes light up again and his idiot grin returns.

"Yeah! Okay, you're not mad at me. Thank g- Eywa, thank Eywa my girl isn't mad at me," he leans into you and buries his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling you shoulder with closed eyes.

"Were you going to say 'thank god'?" you ask.

"Yeah, but I corrected myself because I have a new life with my beautiful mate," his hand travels to your waist and he kisses your shoulder.

"Move it," you slap his hand away. He pulls himself off of you completely and sighs.

You two sit there in silence for a second. Until you feel a soft fingertip press into your thigh. You take a deep breath to control yourself.

"Jacob Sully." your nostrils flare as his finger pulls away.

"Not my name anymore, honey," he pokes your thigh again. Your pupils contract with annoyance.

"Tsyeyk te Suli," you turn your head to him and he smiles at you.

"You're so cute when you're mad," he presses little polka dots into your legs and torso. "Mated for life, remember?" he teases. You ignore him.

""I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," his smirk grows more mischievous.

"What? What does my childish Toruk Makto want? The strong leader who led the clans to victory against the sky people is a big baby!" you scold. You finally turn to him, looking in his eyes.

"And my love makes me that way," he strokes your cheek.

"Don't be sappy," you don't bother to turn away or slap his hand. Instead, you just accept his physical affection as your ears perk up with his touch. Your harsh tone contrasts with your soft features, and your eyes that glow in the amber light of the fire.

"What happened today? Hmm? What happened that made you irritated like this? I'll listen to you. Come here, please. I'll listen," his arms cage your body and you melt like putty into his embrace. You can't resist being held by him. You can't resist his warm body in the cold nighttime breeze.

"It was... just crazy today, Ma'Jake. Eywa hates me so much, my body has been all over the place since I got mated. Mo'at told me that I should get 'with child' soon. My heat cycles are going crazy! Also, Za'ulanou is sick. I'm worried. I prayed at the spirit tree for him!" you tuck your face into Jake's chest and clench your eyes shut, overrun with emotion. He listens attentively, comforting you.

"Oh, I-" he begins, rubbing your head. "My girl, it's okay. We'll heal Za'ulanou. We'll pray and forage medicine for him. Wouldn't that be nice? To help Mo'at out a little bit?" he presses a kiss onto your hair.

"Yes," you quietly hum into his abs, feeling relieved.

"But uhm, run back that first part for me, real quick," he says. You nod.

"I think you heard it," you pull away from his chest and look in his eyes.

"You want me to help you with that? I can... give you a child," he pushes your hair out of your face and your eyes widen.

"I don't know," you look away.

"Make those pesky little heat cycles go away," he suggests.

"Even if the seed doesn't take-" you begin. Jake's eyes widen with your use of language, reminding himself he's on another planet. You notice his face and giggle.

"Ma'Jake, it is our way. If the... intercourse-" you say that word with uncertainty, hoping to make sense to Jake. He nods, assuring you that he understands.

"If the intercourse does not give me child, it would still help my cycles. The Na'vi way, I will tell you. We can make sex, and not have babies. But if we make sex and tsaheylu at the same time, I most likely will become with child," you tell him. Jake listens closely, without judging your English at all. The same way you never judge his Na'vi.

"I'm proud of you, your English is so good," he remarks, kissing your forehead.

"Are you listening or not?" you shake your head.

"Yes, keep going, beautiful girl," he rubs your back.

"Sex without tsaheylu is common among the Na'vi. It is good for the bodies. It relieves the hormones, the cycles, without having to commit to a baby," you place a hand on your stomach.

"I see what we should do," he smirks. "Lay back, mama," he slowly pushes you back, crawling on top.

"Ma'Jake, I don't want to become mama, so no bonding, only sex," you tell him sternly as you lie down.

"Of course," he unties your loincloth to see your swollen, wet pussy, aching for him.

"Mmm," you whine and squirm desperately. His erect cock pushes through his loincloth rubs up against your leg.

"Jesu- Eywa, how long have you been like this?" he leans and gets near your heat.

"Every heat," you mewl and buck your hips when he pulls his face away from your cunt.

"Every time your pussy gets wet like this, every time you get irritable because no one's balls deep in you, every single goddamn time you're horny, come straight to me. I'll drop whatever I'm doing and fuck your brains out," he drops his loincloth and his dick stands straight up, intimidating you.

"Yes, I will," your pussy aches and throbs with desire and your legs tremble.

"I'd fuck you any time. We could be in the middle of dinner, hunting, ritual, prayer, or even a goddamn battle. Just call for me. Because I will hurry to you," he gets down, positioning himself in front of your entrance.

"And when I get to you-" he teases your slit with his tip and you whimper.

You place your hands on his shoulders, looking down. He kisses your cheek as he slowly thrusts inside of you. You let out a mewl and he grunts. Your cunt stretches to take him and your toes curl.

He breathes heavily against your face and his pre cum teases your cervix. As he gradually goes into you further, your legs wrap around his waist. You throw your head back and moan, you can feel your skin getting hot.

"When I get to you, I'll bend you over a log, or lay you down on the soil, or fuck you up against the wall of a cave. Goddamn, I'd fuck your tight pussy any time. You will never have a bad cycle again, I swear," his eyes wield shut as he thrusts into you again.

The pressure in your stomach builds up. You yelp and your heat pulsates.

"I'm gonna-," you whine. You can't continue. You're too cock drunk to speak.

"Do it," Jake's strokes become turbulent and desperate. He whimpers against your face.

Your orgasms hit you guys like a bus. You cry out and grab on tight to him, while an electric feeling pulses through your body. Your cunt squeezes and clenches Jake, while a contracting feeling takes over your abdomen.

Jake groans and plops his weight onto you, his cum squirting all over your cervix and filling you up with warmth. A similar contracting feeling takes over him, while his arms tremble.

He pulls out of you, breathing heavily.

"All better?" he asks, panting and breathless.

"All better," you reply, the same way.

[chaotic-neutral-knitter]

I saw this post going around and got really curious as to how OP came up with their numbers because I could not replicate them at all.

I was going to reply directly but it was getting very very long and I didn’t want to wade onto someone’s post with a bunch of my own stats bc it seemed rude, so I’m putting my response here.

I’m going to preface this by saying that I’m fully in the camp of “write because you like writing, not for an audience response” because if you don’t like the process of writing, there is no level of audience response that will make writing worth it. But. I’ve seen a lot of folks agonize over Ao3 stats and get stuck in the weeds on Ratios™. And I think there are a few really common misconceptions around what these numbers mean.

The rest of this is going to be under a readmore to spare y’all but basically it’s a breakdown of trying to calculate my own percentages like the OP in the original post and then dialing down into why hits != readers.

Here’s the stats from one of my fics as of today, May 1st 2023. I am by no means a prolific or widely known fic writer - I happen to be in a big fandom and writing for for the main pairing in that fandom.

completed multi chapter fic, rated Mature:

So this one has three chapters, 2736 hits, 436 kudos, and 146 comments. Kudos divided by hits is 16%.

“Oh no!” I might say, seeing this. “Only sixteen percent of people liked my fic enough to leave a kudos? Either my stuff is shit, or fic-readers are a bunch of lazy fucks who don’t appreciate the work I’ve put into this. Either way, I’m mad now!”

But (and I say this with a lot of love in my heart, I promise) that’s silly. Not just for the philosophical reasons of writing what makes you happy and not caring about the response. It’s silly because it’s wrong.

On a multi-chapter fic, each person who finishes it is responsible for at least 3 hits but can only leave 1 kudos. Dividing the total hits by 3 gives you 912 hits. So, once you’ve corrected for number of chapters, the percent of people who have hit kudos is 47%.

“Holy shit!” writer-me says, “I’ve published original fiction in my university newspaper, original fiction that I poured my heart and soul into btw, and if approximately half of the people who read it  sent me a little heart emoji, I would have died and gone to heaven. Fic readers are the Nicest, Most Generous, and Most Beautiful readers on the planet and I am so grateful to be in this community with them.”

But! 47% is still wrong. Here’s why.

Hits != Readers

I don’t how other people do this, but my process of reading a fic is often like this (each step is one hit):

open link from someone else's rec, try to click "mark for later"

realize I'm logged out. sign in to Ao3, go back to fic and click "mark for later"

come back to read fic, generating at least one hit per chapter

open a second tab so that I can write a comment as I go (again, generating at least one hit per chapter)

finish fic, create bookmark, and then navigate back to fic to mark it as read so it's taken off my marked for later page

if I really liked the fic, I'll end up opening it back up in a tag many times so I can rec it to people by sending them the link

if I really really liked the fic, I'll come back and read it again (this is doubly true for explicit fic, btw.)

I think I’m on the high end of generating hits, but it only takes a few of me to really dial up that hit counter. And most people are going to do one or two of these things - I’d argue that it’s pretty rare for someone to leave just one hit on a fic unless they nope out of it in the middle.

Formula for calculating number of readers from number of hits:

There isn’t one. And it would take a much better mathematician than me to make one. Because this is way more complicated than dividing by chapters. Most readers leave more than one hit - especially if they like the fic a lot. Short fics and explicit fics are more likely to be read multiple times.

“But what if I crave validation?” writer-me complains, irritated with math-me for not downloading statistics software, shoving a million Ao3 fics into it, and producing some kind of bullshit linear regression. “What if I constantly see people with higher kudos/hits ratios than me? This is all very optimistic but it really doesn’t jive with my deep seated belief that everyone secretly hates me all the time and they’re too nice to tell me about it. Do they hate me? They probably hate me, right? Tell me if you hate me.”

To which I say, listen very closely, writer-me. You can either decide that AO3 stats mean something and lose your damn mind deciphering what they mean, or you can be like that kid who got an avocado for christmas and say “it’s a avocado comment!! Thanks!! :D”

And that kid seemed pretty happy.

[lidiasloca]

can you do a fic where cardan get jealous loveee your work btw

jealous high king Cardan (jurdan fic)

Post QoN

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“She’s just playing the part, Cardan,” the Roach tells me, patting my shoulder. “And you should remember this was your idea.”

I guess it actually was my idea to gain the favor of a faraway powerful someone that Jude told me would make a great ally. And I guess it was also my idea that we did this through my wife’s charm. So he is somewhat right…

“Oh, shut up. I can’t hear what they’re saying,” it's what I answer, though.

The Roach's chuckle becomes a distant sound as I walk closer to my wife and the idiot that now happens to be touching her arm. Caressing it up and down. Each time closer to her shoulder, then to her jaw and neck and collarbone and-

“Harold,” I greet, making him look up at me. Jude turns to me as well, one arm still linked with his.

And though she notices my fixated glare there, she doesn’t give away any reaction other than a charming smile.

Harold, however, seems smarter, and moves his arm from hers. Good.

“King Cardan,” he says with shaky voice. I grin wide.

“High King Cardan, if you may.”

“Cardan!” Jude barks, clearly irritated. When I meet her glare in silence, she angrily takes my hand and leads me through the ballroom, totally dismissing stupid little Harold.

“What are you doing?! I almost had him,” she says as we walk.

I stop in my tracks, making her too. “You almost had him,” I repeat. “And what exactly does that mean, lovely wife?”

Jude regards me for a moment, frowning. And when she speaks again, her voice is soft, as if she had understood where my mind had gone: “You know what I mean with that.”

“I thought I knew, but that was before you two got so handsy with each other,” I replied. “Then, I wasn’t exactly sure if a political alliance was what you really wanted from him.”

“Cardan,” she breathes, calm and understanding, and inclines her head to the side. No, that won’t work.

“Jude,” I mimic mockingly. Which makes her chuckle softly.

“I did let him get a bit…handsy,” she admits. “Sorry, Cardan. I didn’t think it would bother you, since we both know my intentions with him. But,… I’m sorry.”

Instead of answering, I let a silent moment unfold upon us. Our eyes are the only thing that communicates our understanding with each other.

“Plus, he’s not that handsome,” she says eventually. “Too soldier-like for my liking.”

At that, I can’t help but laugh. “You’re so funny, huh.”

She smiles as she places her hands on my shoulders, starting a dance. “Do you forgive me, Cardan?”

I nod before slowly spinning her.

- characters by Holly Black

i missed writing so much. thanks a lot for the request and the lovely compliment, made my day fr <;3

[the-writing-mobster]

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The jokes write themselves don't they?

What is this, you might ask? Why, it's a lovely reply to my chapter excerpt that I JUST posted. The Beyonce clip was what awaited me in their shoddy little link.

So... let me get this straight. Your clown shitter decided to scour the Frans tag, a ship you are apparently disgusted by specifically to find stuff to make you mad? *Clown honking noises intensify*

Then, you found MY fic excerpt and decided to chuck your rotting ass feces at me? Frans isn't even endgame in TMDG you dumbass loser, but the mental effort to decipher that context was simply too immense for your little ant brain to comprehend.

So here's some advice, go back to your sanscest (which btw, I hold no ill-will against cause I'm not a psycho) and leave me and my writing the hell alone.

That goes for all antis too. Don't tango with me I'll fucking tear your face off like a damn chimpanzee.