#i dont have a talk tag and im too lazy to make one now

[prince-of-moths]

my friend shared a post of yours to me and i really like ur blog ^^

Aw ty!

[prettyboykatsuki]

slow down | n. seishiro

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, fwb to lovers, implied dom reader, switching for the first time (kinda), unprotected sex, backshots, explicit smut, love confessions in the middle of sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 2.8k

✮ a/n ; im not taking questions at this time don't ask me anything. title from chase atlantic. dont say a word to me.

✮ synopsis ; when you ask him to fuck the sad out of you, nagi mostly does it because it's you.

but maybe it's worth doing again, if it makes you whine so pretty.

Something clicks.

It's weird. Nagi doesn't totally get why it happens now of all times. Figuring out he loves you mid-thrust seems silly, even for him.

It's not like this is the first time Nagi has ever had sex with you. He decided to fulfill your request of asking him to put in a little work while you hung out on shared day off.

He's used to the routine of you coming over to use him, more or less. He doesn't mind it at least. He doesn't think too deeply about it in general. Once you propositioned him to be your regular hook-up, Nagi couldn't find it in himself to voice a complaint.

Sex with you feels good, probably because being around you has always felt nice. You pamper him a little like Reo does, but you're... different, somehow. Nagi can't completely explain it. You have a different feeling to you like all of the ways you spoil him to you sort of come easy.

You said once that you like that you know what to expect with Nagi. It was easy not to hope or want for anything other than what you got.

He isn't sure why he's remembering all of this now. It's not the time. You're holding onto his pillow, muffling moans into it while you fuck yourself back on his dick and there are at least five things he should probably be more concerned with than what he's thinking about right now.

Maybe it's the same, really. He's still thinking of you. On the other hand that's all he ever does.

Nagi watches you, suddenly mesmerized by the view. He's not usually fucking you from this angle, but he can tell he's feeling you a lot deeper. The sex he's used to having is lazy and 'intimate' as you put it, too much for a hook-up. You're usually under his weight, or in his lap, or on your belly while he curls over you. You're usually the one controlling the pace, and if he is thrusting at all - he's usually doing it with his head totally empty. Chasing the pleasure with a mindlessness that feels comfortable. Cock heavy with need, thrusting into you - warm and wet, perfect around him.

The sex you have with Nagi is good, but above all it's comfortable. You come expecting him to get hard and do what you ask - which is easy.

This is not that.

But it's good. Maybe better. At the very least, new in a way he wants to explore.

You weren't even supposed to be having sex. Though that's usually the case - you'd told him before coming over that you weren't feeling quite up to it. You asked if it'd be okay if all you did was cuddle and of course it was.

Not wanting to have sex is one thing, but it was the abrupt difference in your mood that prompted his concern. You're usually upbeat and chatty - like to talk to his ear off even if he's not totally listening.

So it's weird when you crawl into his bed silent and almost moody, it's so obvious even Nagi can tell. And it worries him as is, but it worries him most when you get worked up enough to cry in front of him after he asks you what's wrong.

He's not usually good with stuff like that, so he uses the advice so he falls back on what he's used to. Asking if there's anything he can do.

You made a joke, between a sniffle. You could fuck the sadness out of me, I guess.

You weren't serious. But Nagi thought, well he could do that much. It doesn't bother him, since it's you and he has a day off. And it feels off to see you cry, so if he can get you stop - that'd be good.

Sex is different when Nagi is the one putting the work in. This is the delayed realization. He's never really thought about doing it - since the sex you have already is really good. He doesn't see the point in fixing what's not broken.

He likes it like this, he thinks. Even kissing you. It's fun, somehow. He's never seen you act like this before. Whining, sighing - something almost pitiful to you. You're expecting him to give up from what he can tell, at least from all the times you pull away from him—glassy eyed and giggly, asking if he's had his fun yet.

And honestly, Nagi is expecting it of himself too. He's done his job in making you feel better.

He's sort of surprised at how much he wants to keep going.

It feels good though. Euphoric. A sense of ego, he supposes. It feels good to know what he can do to you if he wants too, at any time.

He looks down at the evidence it and almost feels content.

You fuck yourself back onto him the second he moves and it makes him click his teeth just a bit. It bothers him somehow, in this specific instance. His hands find the soft flesh pudge of your hips and he thinks about how good you feel between his fingers as he holds you in place hard.

You wiggle yourself back against him desperately and in unconscious retaliation he pulls out completely. Your pussy gapes open at his absence - the first time he's ever seen inside. Swollen and sticky, fluttering as his thick cock lays against your cunt. Crystalline threads of pre-cum and arousal stick and cling to you both. Your pussy is glistening pretty under the low-lights, viscous threads of his own pre sticking against the hair of your pussy. Cock red, tip ruddy and throbbing.

Nagi rubs against you tentatively. Pleasure guides him, his hips finding the right angle to thrust against you but not quite inside. He can hear the moan you bite into the pillow and feels a strange sense of contentment mix with vague annoyance. It'd be better if he heard you loud and clear.

"Nagi-kun," You breathe out. It's the first time he's heard you say his name like that.

Something inside him jolts. It's the same realization he had before. He should tell you before it slips away.

"Again."

A pause. Nagi ruts his hips, forcing it out of you. "Nagi-kun."

"That's it," He mumbles, to himself. "I like that."

You make another garbled noise - force your hips back up and Nagi pulls away again, not on purpose. Somehow, he doesn't feel like giving you what you want quite yet. You do this, back and forth until you whimper, head turned over your shoulders.

"Why aren't you fucking me?" You whine, words filtered through thick tears, voice riddled with frustration. "Fuck me, already."

"Mm,"

Nagi doesn't want to make you beg. But he likes this feeling - whatever it is. How you act when he holds you in his palm. Doesn't want to make you small. Rather, you are like this. Cute. Makes him want to see everything else you could do in reply to him. Even if it means you might nip at him, somehow - if it's you, it wouldn't be bad. He rubs his cock again against your swollen cunt, sliding it between your thighs too for good measure. Gripping your hips even harder he fucks inbetween them with a sigh - head of his cock catching on your clit.

You keep moaning his name when he makes you feel good. The harder he goes, the more he smacks his his hips against your ass - not quite relieving the pressure in your gut you just keep crying out for him. It's nice to hear. That's all it is, really.

"Not my thighs," You whine. Nagi takes a breath, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Where?"

You make a noise, looking over at him from your shoulder - scandalized. "Are you serious?"

He doesn't reply or react, just keeps still. You groan.

"Fuck my pussy," You say, wincing at your own voice. "Want your dick inside me."

"Call me Seishiro,"

You blink absently, another desperate cry "Seishiro-kun," You breathe, soft and gentle and sincere. Cute. "Fuck me. Please?"

He nods. Doesn't say anything in reply - just grabs your hips and leans forward - a hand next to your head. Keep himself steady, and keep you upright.

Raw dick slick from sliding against your sex, tip heavy with pre-cum - Nagi stuffs his cock inside you in one go. Your pussy stretches around him with ease, accommodates his ridiculous length like it's done it time and again. He's felt it before, felt you before - but it's the first time he's really noticing just how much effort it must put in to do it. Somehow, he finds that endearing too.

His cock, thick and heavy and wanting - aches as he bottoms out. Sticky heat swallows him whole, his waist melting against your own and making him weak. It always feels good, but it never feels this good. Never feels good enough that he makes a noise any louder than a breath.

But he moans this time - shivers as his fingers sink into the plush of your hips and he grinds the tip of your cock against the very edge of your cervix. Your knees go weak underneath him, you'd buckle if he wasn't there to hold you upright.

Another wave of arousal spills around the girth of his cock, and you squeeze down on him tight. Oh. You like that. He does it again, mindlessly. You grow wetter, more desperate. All pulsing waves of heat and desire, Nagi can feel your legs tense as you get stimulated from the inside.

"Keep your hips up," Is all he says as he lets go, moving his hand around your waist until his fingers brush your clit. You gasp.

"Seishi—hicc,"

Words lost, Nagi rubs a circle into the throbbing bundle of nerves. Twitchy, restless under his fingers - he's practiced in this. Good with his hands, he starts slow until he finds a place it gets easy for him to do without putting any tension on the rest of him.

You're shaking before him. Nagi places an absent kiss on your shoulder blade. You keep half-way saying his name, stumbling on the syllables and sounds when he makes you feel good.

"Fuck," You're falling apart. He can hear it. "Quit touchin' me like that. I'll cum."

"Then cum,"

"I don't want to cum like this,"

"Then how?" He says. A delayed sense of understanding. "Oh, you want to cum on my cock?"

You clench down on him hard. Huh.

"That's it? Is that why you won't cum?"

"Sei-kun," You're so whiny like this. "You're being extremely unfair today."

"Am I? Sorry." He isn't sure if he means that. "Is that what you meant? You want to cum while I fuck you,"

You frown, voice barely above a whisper. "...Yeah. So quit it already,"

Nagi pulls out and you breathe a sigh of relief before he slams right back in. You almost scream, mouth fallen open. "Just tell me next time. It's fine."

Again. Your words die as soon as he moves. This was the right pace. The right everything. He can tell because your pussy keeps fluttering around him, slick walls trembling so violently each time he slides in and out. Gripping onto the hard length of his cock like you don't want him to pull out completely. Each time he gets close to doing so, you suck him in further. Milk his cock for all it's worth, his balls feeling suddenly heavy and tight. He moans in pre-emptive, at the thought of how good it's gonna feel unloading it in you.

"You feel so good." He says, appreciative. You whimper again. "Ah, see? It's so tight. Does it feel good for you?"

"Feels so good. Love when you fuck me Sei,"

Love. His thoughts loop back around again to what he was thinking about at the start.

"You feel good to me. Really good." And then, not thinking about it at all. "I love you,"

You tense, looking over your shoulder - looking out of it, dazed. Unsure. "W-what?"

"Huh? I said I love you,"

"S-Seishiro?"

Your pussy grinds down on him again. You liked hearing that, huh?

"I love you," He says, and you whimper - audible. "I wanted to tell you before."

"Sei—"

...!

He stops again before picking back upon a brutal pace almost instantly. It feels right. No mercy as he pounds his cock in and out of you - suddenly feeling like something's possessed.

Your hands reach back to try and push him out but they're so weak it's almost ticklish.

"Sorry. Later," He says, fucking you with every ounce of effort he can finds - rubbing your clit with nasty precision. Each moan sounds punched out of you, breathy and high. "You're so cute."

And you are, Nagi thinks. He's starting to understand. You're cute in a different way that everything else cute is. That's special to you. It's all so cute to him.

You repeat his name again and again. Nagi never gets sick of hearing you say it somehow. He wonders why it only just clicked that this is something he can have. He wishes he would've figured it out sooner.

"Sei," You say, mindless - unthinking. He can feel your whole body tighten, tension making your limbs wind back. Fingers clawing in the sheets, toes curled up, spine curving into a 'C' as the pressure in your gut slowly unravels and throbs around him.

Nagi keeps pace - multitasking well enough that you don't falter. Laser-focused, he wants to know what it's like to make you cum from his own hands. His own ego. He wants to know how you feel underneath when your body gives out from pleasure - in the same way he wants other things. Completely selfishly, a hunger gnawing in his gut as you get close to the edge. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, doesn't falter. He pounds into you as you gasp and tremble without a sense of mercy.

Raw desire burrows itself into his chest and blooms inside the space between his bones. His eyes almost hurt from how hard he focuses.

Finally, you call his name once more - your cunt spasming relentlessly around him. Hot, so hot - his dick almost hurts from how hard he wants to cum before you.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck—cumming, I'm cumming!"

Nagi groans as you cum. His cock nearly slips out from how hard you pulse around him, waves of your own cum and arousal frothing around the base of his cock from how hard he fucks you. A wet liquid sprays against his thighs as he bottoms out while you ride your high. His own body gives up on holding back as soon as he feels you cumming.

Two thrusts more and he's spilling his seed into you full. Hot, thick ropes of cum paint your insides white as he pants. He almost collapses over you, the both of you breathing hard from exhaustion as the high starts to cum down. He can barely think.

It's annoying he's still hard, but he's not quite tired. He hasn't gone soft.

"Nagi-kun,"

"Seishiro," He corrects. You look over your shoulder at him in surprise. Nagi looks back plainly.

"Uhm. Right. Seishiro-kun. Did you...did you mean to say that?"

"What? That I love you?"

"Yeah. Or was it a heat of the moment thing?"

"Huh? Why would it be that?" He says, earnestly confused. For someone reason this makes you giggle. "I meant it. I just figured it out."

You pause. "...While we were having sex?"

"Huh? Yeah. You were really cute like that."

"What the—did you call me cute?"

"Yeah. Do you not like that?"

"I didn't—It's not that I didn't like it but it's... I would've never imagined you saying it to me,"

He wonders why. You're plenty cute. It's just that Nagi only recently really figured out what the word was. He shrugs. You chuckle.

"What were you going to do if I didn't like you?"

He pauses. "I didn't think about it. Do you not like me?"

You laugh harder this time. "That's so like you. I do like you, Sei-kun. I love you too,"

"Then it's fine," He hums., noncommittally. You giggle.

"I guess so."

A pause. Nagi loves the warmth of your body under him. He wants to keep cuddling but something bugs him.

"Can we go again like this? It won't go down."

...

"... Seriously? Normally it takes you a minute."

"I think it's cause you said you love me." Nagi adds.

"Oh my god. Did I just unleash something in you? You've never acted like this before, like ever."

Nagi shrugs. It'd be good to get use to it now, he thinks.

"Maybe. Can't we?"

You squirm underneath him and Nagi feels himself twitch. Your face warms. See? You're plenty cute, he thinks.

"...I guess it's fine."

He nods. "I wanna do it while looking at you this time. Okay?"

"God. Sure. Okay."

[tension4mari]

Sex with Nam-gyu and Reader who has a hand fetish >ᴗ<

Not proofread

☘︎ ݁˖Paring-Nam-gyu x Fem!Reader

.☘︎ ݁˖Warnings-18+content. Fingering, soft choking, Reader has a hand fetish, cursing, fem receiving, Probably more im just too lazy to tag it

.☘︎ ݁˖Summary- Was requested... Here

.☘︎ ݁˖Blowing all of your money on stupid things was the worst mistake you could have made. Now you're here, inside of a room with hundreds of people you dont know.

.☘︎ ݁˖You had made friends with a girl who was nice enough to invite you into her group she was forming. it was only the three of you before two other guys came up, one claiming to be a rap God named 'Thanos" and the other, you didn't really take notice on his speaking, you were distracted, by his hands.

.☘︎ ݁˖They looked rough but soft at the same time, how would they feel around your neck? you wondered if you would ever find out. you started to bite your lip from the thought, unfortunately you were interrupted by your new friend, Se-mi asks if it was ok with you to let them join you three.

.☘︎ ݁˖ "Huh" you look up from your distracted gaze to the stranger Infront of you, praying no one saw you looking. "Well? what do you say, you don't mind if they join, right?" she asks playing with her lip. "Oh, yea I don't mind." you softly mumble playing with your own hands. "Alright. That settles it! we will be a team!" the purple haired guy announced pretty loudly.

.☘︎ ݁˖ Luckly you all made it through the death obstacle in one piece. Sticking close to the only other girl in the group Se-mi, your eyes betrayed you once again drifting to the guy Infront of you. You look down at his long thick fingers. 'fuck' you thought to yourself. How would they feel inside you? God, you could only imagine, you squeeze your legs together at the dirty thought.

.☘︎ ݁˖Once arriving back at the beds, you decide to stick with your group, you all sit down, Thanos and Nam-gyu cooking up a conversation in a hurry, Se-mi and Min-su talking about nonsense. You're left alone thinking deep in thought. It doesn't take long for your mind to reach back at dirty thoughts you had earlier, but seriously, who wouldn't want those fucking hands on them?" you could feel yourself getting wet from all of that thinking.

.☘︎ ݁˖You could see from the corner of your eye, Nam-gyu using his hands to sweep the hair from his face, you're watching his hands every move. You're so desperate, it honestly sad. As you're busy staring at his fingers, he looks at you for a spilt second, seeing you nonstop staring at his fingers, He could only let his mind wonder at the thoughts you're having right now.

.☘︎ ݁˖He decides to test the waters, bringing his hands towards his thigh, letting his hands rest there for a spilt second before moving to the middle of his pants.

And you're watching his hands every move.

.☘︎ ݁˖'Lights out in 30 minutes' the feminine voice called out on the speaker, opting you had enough of today you decided to bid your farewells to your group. "I'm heading to my bed. Goodnight guys!" you spoke out in a whatso lively voice. "Are you sure?" "You're not gonna stay with us?" Se-mi asked looking at you. "Yea, You're not going to stay with us tonight? You scared?" Nam-gyu asked in a teasing voice chuckling softly "Nah I'm al good, you guys have fun, I'm feeling tired already." Nam-gyu got up, placing his hand on your shoulder. Leaning down and whispering in your hear quietly "Night." before his hand made its way to the crook of your neck, squeezing it softly and being removed fast before anyone else could notice.

.☘︎ ݁˖"Mhm!" you quickly mumble before sprinting off and waving back at everyone else.

.☘︎ ݁˖You make your way to your bed before slipping off your shoes and taking off your green jacket. You lay down getting comfortable before drifting off to a deep sleep.

.☘︎ ݁˖You wake up, noticing everyone was still sleep. You sit up on the bed, rubbing your eyes before breathing in a long yawn, you were abruptly interrupted by a dark figure roaming behide you, before you could scream a hand catches you in the act.

.☘︎ ݁˖"Chill-It's just me" Nam-gyu reveals himself standing Infront of you before moving his hand from your mouth. "What were you doing?" you said raising your eyebrows and scooting back onto the hard mattress. "None of your business." he spoke before stepping closer to you "Well? You can go...It's still night and we need sleep." you said lifting the thin sheet onto your legs.

.☘︎ ݁˖He grabs the sheet, throwing it to the end of the bed. "Nah im not tired." "Plus, I came to ask you something" he uninvitedly sits beside you on the bed, before putting his hands on your upper thigh. "Ok... What is it?" you said staring at the warm touch on your thigh "What's your problem with my hands? is it a fetish or sum?" he said eyeing you "W-what- I have no idea what you're talking about! ' You whisper shout before trying to scoot away from his hands. "Don't be embarrassed, it's hot.

.☘︎ ݁˖While you were trying to find an excuse, he cuts you off. "Shh.. Just shut the hell up, Fuck." He moves his hand from your thigh to your chest, squeezing your tits. "What the fuc-" you were cut off by his lips hitting yours. "You attempt to push him off of you to see what the hell is his problem "Do you want this or not." he's staring in your eyes. You turn your head from him.,"Mhm.." "Then just relax... I'll make you feel good."

.☘︎ ݁˖He pushes you onto back before reaching for your legs, traveling his fingers from your ankles to the waist band of your pants. He slides them down enough so that he can get a clear view of your panties. "Fuck... Look at this, you're soaking..." You cover your face from the lewd words. "Stop talking..." you mumble into your hands.

.☘︎ ݁˖He brings his finger towards your clothe cunt, rubbing his finger up and down on your wetness leaking through your underwear "Hm! stop teasing me... It's annoying." "What are you in the rush for? we have all night.." he says before finally pulling your panties off and tucking them into his sweatshirt, going unnoticed

.☘︎ ݁˖His middle finger finds it way inside you. Moving it back in forth, he immediately adds in another finger. You turn into a moaning mess he quickly shuts you up by shoving his free hand finger into your mouth "If I were you, ill shut up. Don't you see these people sleeping? Hm?'' He says in a deep voice that you swore you got more wet hearing it. "Unless you want them to hear you." he says smirking. thrusting his fingers even harder into your wetness. He pulls his fingers out your mouth bringing his hands to the softness of your cheek, smothering your own saliva on your face and giving your face a couple of soft taps.

.☘︎ ݁˖"Is it as you wished? Feeling my finger inside you?" you nod your head with closed eyes. "Good." his hand reaching your neck, rubbing it before wrapping his hands around it completely. "You look so good like this-" he says moving his face to lick your abused cunt "And you taste amazing" "God you're going to kill me.."

.☘︎ ݁˖He's sucking your pussy like his life depended on it, he looks up at you squeezing your neck "Look at me-" you open your watery eyes looking down at him eating you oh so good. "Mhm.." you moan. bringing your hands to go through his hair, slightly tugging at it "Don't stop!" you silently moan bucking your hips up into his face, basically full-on riding his face.

.☘︎ ݁˖You don't stop pulling his hair till you came undone on his face. "Fuck.. you've had the best pussy I've ever tasted-" he says catching his breath, you're too fucked out to comprehend what exactly he's saying.

.☘︎ ݁˖You're laid on your back with squeezed closed legs from the orgasm you just had. "Uh huh." you blabber. His hands go to spread your legs, kissing your cunt before letting your legs go flop on the bed. "You did so well for me" he says rubbing your thighs, "I have to go back now..." he says pulling the sheets onto your exposed legs "I'll see you later." he says letting go of the sheet, "m'k.." you groan finally opening your eyes.

.☘︎ ݁˖Nam-gyu disappears into the dark and eventfully you got up to put back on your pants, wandering where the hell you put your panties?!

Sorry if it's all over the place in the beginning.. took me two different days to complete this.. ☠️

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Arthur Morgan x Duchess!Reader

ᯓ★ forbidden love trope, fluff, is angsty, forced marriage, drinking, cheating, sexism, violence, daddy issues, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★ Quick reminder there's 3 parts to this hc but the third part focuses HEAVILY on angst, this was supposed to be a story/series but im too lazy to do chapters, i dont have the patience and time. Also I'll be writing short stories with this prompt (the lore goes deep and im obsessed with this plot) you can request to be tagged.

You were a duchess from a wealthy family. If there was anything you wanted, you had it. However you could never have the thing you wanted so badly, freedom.

So it wasn't a surprise when the day came that your father had decided to arrange your marriage with a nobleman somewhere near Saint Denis, hoping to secure a great alliance between the family businesses. You had no say in it and was sent away like a package.

That was the plan until your stage was attacked by a bunch of bandits. All your guards were killed to the very last one, leaving just you.

Your pretty dress was spoiled by the dirt of the road as the bandit had his gun raised at you, his eyes lit up from the gleam of your diamond necklace. A gift your father gave you in hopes to bedazzle the nobleman...

But you just ended up catching the eye of the wrong person.

Just as he pulled the hammer of his pistol all the way to the back, bullets were fired from elsewhere. You could only cover your ears and lower your head as you caught glimpses of gunshots fired at the bandits.

Some died while some escaped.

Your focus on the dead bodies were pulled away when you heard sounds of a horse galloping to a stop not far from where you are.

That was when you saw him.

Cold blue eyes hidden behind a cowboy hat. He got off of his horse and was quick to assist you, placing his hand comfortingly on your shoulder and another holding your hand.

His palm felt comfortably rough under your touch.

"You alright miss?" He'd ask, the scent of cigarettes heavy in his breath.

"I think so.." You'd answer.

With the death of your coachman, you had nowhere to go and you weren't exactly informed with the address of your new home.

Seeing the vulnerable state you were in, he offered to give you a ride. He'd hold you by the waist as he lifted you on his horse before mounting it himself. How he picked you up so effortlessly made you wonder on his strength.

Not exactly familiar with a stranger, you placed your hands hesitantly on the sides of his waist, which caught his attention almost immediately.

"C'mon now... no need to be so polite" He'd say, his voice low and sweet as he'd then grab your hands to make you wrap them around his waist. Leaving you with no choice but to have your chest pressed gently against his back.

Even from under his blue shirt you could feel his physique. How his muscles tenses and how his chest would fall.

It left you in a daze. You were never this inappropriately close to someone before. A man in court would have to take YEARS to even get this close to you.

When arriving at Saint Denis, he would hitch his horse before helping you to your feet. As you followed him close from behind, you could see the people of the city stealing glances of the two of you. It was almost like the sight itself was unimaginable.

An outlaw and a duchess?

After talking to the lawmen, you and him decided to rest by the bench just outside the station. You watched as he leaned back and made himself comfortable, his feet rested on top of his other knee. He'd turn to you to meet your gaze.

"What's your name?" He'd ask.

"(Y/N)" You'd say. Just then you'd catch how his eyes trailed down to your dress... before he nods to himself when looking out at the streets.

"What about you?" You'd speak up, being the one to ask for his name.

"Arthur"

Arthur... somehow in your mind the name fits him. The way he looks and behaves, it showed his character.

Once you were able to find the address of the manor, the journey on his horse would continue. Your hands found it's place wrapped around his waist.

What you'd least expected was how he'd asked of your status and your relation to this nobleman he was sending you to. It started off with simple answers but with more and more questions asked, you began pouring out your frustrations before you even realised it.

"My father never was one to care for me. After my mother's passing, he's prioritised his duties over me. I don't hate him for I choose to understand him... but I still feel this gaping hole in my chest"

"So he ignored you when you needed him... nothin's worse than having a coward for a father"

You had to admit, you were taken aback from some of the things he said about your life, mostly criticising your dad the most. But it was how he said it so casually that caught you by surprise.

Yet some of the things he said also made sense, it was like it gave you the rope that you needed to tie your thoughts down. The more he spoke, the more things clicked in your life.

His perspective of things intrigued you.

So when he dropped you off by the gate of the manor, you couldn't help but tell him to come by any time he liked. Either to talk or if he needed anything.

He'd shook his head with an amused smile.

"Yur a sweet girl but I'd hate to trouble you"

"It's no trouble at all. See it as a reward for helping me" You'd say and he'd stare at you, an indescribable look of wonder in his eyes as he nodded before riding off.

It wasn't just you who found his perspective in life interesting but he was also fascinated by your view as well.

How you chose to stay so optimistic and be grateful for even the smallest things in life. It made him wonder if he ever appreciated enough what little things he had.

That is why his visit would come sooner than you'd expected. Soon his first visit would escalate to another... and another... before it became frequent.

Everytime he came back, his goal was to unwind, which you never failed to do so when treating him to some tea in your private garden.

Sometimes you'd even read him a book you were reading at the time, even though it wasn't his strong suit, the way you narrated the story always had him invested.

However your visits were always done behind the back of your future husband, it wasnt hard to when you shared seperate rooms and that hes always away for work, still you'd feel guilty for doing this but some part of you cared more about spending time with Arthur than that.

Then one day, on one of Arthur's visits, he'd open up about his crew. You didn't know all of them but you could only catch a few names and the details of their character.

This new level of trust made your friendship blossom even more.

The way his eyes never left yours when you talked, sometimes it made you wonder if you had hypnotised the man.

He would laugh more. Smile more. His jokes weren't all funny but his humour was contagious enough to have you laugh along with him.

But you'd also notice the little things he'd done.

How he somehow cleans up before coming to see you.

Maybe even come bearing bouquets or gifts.

Not to forget everytime you even mention about something you were interested in or wanted, he would show up in a few days with the very same thing you talked about.

It wasn't that you couldn't afford it but the effort he put in just to get it for you.

It made you fall for him.

You were a fool if you denied it.

But you were even a bigger fool to think you could be with him.

You're a duchess, you had your reputation to hold up. And the obvious fact was that you were getting married to somebody else!

Despite the differences holding you back, your heart couldn't deny the fact you wanted to be with him. His presence alone made you melt.

And the same could be said for him, he just adored you. Your skin so soft and the sun complimenting your features just perfectly. Everytime he saw you was a reminder why he was fighting for his freedom.

But he knew he couldn't have you, you were just too good to be true.

Too good for him.

His thoughts would lead to him drinking one too many bottles on one night. Alone with his drunken thoughts, he'd make a reckless choice of showing up to the manor late at night.

Standing near the window of your bedroom that was a few floors up, he'd shout for your name drunkenly which awoken you in confusion. You'd look out to see him wobbling around, struggling to find balance on his feet.

Worried if he's hurt himself, you'd sneak down as quietly as you could to meet him outside at the garden. To your surprise, he was just a drunk mess.

"I— hic! I miss you!" He'd say, his breath stink of alcohol.

"Arthur? What's gotten into you?" You'd give him your arm to balance himself and the touch of your skin seemed to have his spirits brought back to earth for a while. Like it snapped something in him.

"You... you're cruel!" He'd point at you.

"Cruel...?" You were startled by his tone.

"How could you— make me— love you— ohh" He'd suddenly fall to his knees and you were fast to make sure he didn't hit his head, which ended with him resting his head on your chest, his eyes half lidded from the affects of the alcohol.

"Gorgeous.. " He'd utter before falling asleep.

Some part of you were confused by this sudden confession but you also felt glad your feelings were mutual. You'd hold him in your arms, placing your chin on top of his hair.

The next day was embarrassing for him, he'd find himself awake in the garden... with you beside him...

To be fair he was too heavy for you to carry anywhere so you just did what you could.

The sight of you curled by his side made your beauty ever more ethereal. How he found himself in this position was unclear but he didn't mind. Instead he laid his head back on the grass as he admired how soundly you slept.

His fingertips gently brushing the locks of hair behind your ear to get a better look of your face.

When you finally woke up and you two had talked, it took a lot of convincing to make this relationship of yours a try.

Lots of promises were made that day.

You promised to be careful not to let this be discovered by anyone while he promised to not involve you in the danger in his life.

The relationship was definitely an interesting one.

He calls you princess even though you've corrected him multiple times that it's a different title compared to a duchess.

"I'm a duchess Arthur, a princess has a higher rank than I do"

"Duchess, princess, s'all the same to me" He'd caress your cheek.

To be fair you've gotten use to the nickname that you never bothered to correct him ever again. Surprisingly you'd find yourself loving the name.

He would definitely take you to places on his horse. His favourite area was the beautiful field he stumbled upon one day, it was covered with pastel flowers that he just knew you'd immediately love it.

Which you did.

It became the place where you two could go to with the worries of the world off your shoulders.

Just imagine on the evening sunset, you're reading your book while seated among the short grass, your other hand gently tossling through his hair as he has his head rested on your lap. His hat was slightly tilted to cover his eyes for his nap.

Have I mentioned how he loves to admire you?

You could be a mess and he'd still look at you like you're single-handedly the most gorgeous person to walk this world.

This relationship would go on for weeks behind your future husbands back until one day he FINALLY acknowledge your presence.

Maybe it was something that happened at work but he'd suddenly suggest the idea to push the date of the marriage earlier. You obviously didn't like it but no matter what you said, he'd simply brush your words off and suggest it be done sooner.

You were devastated.

It broke you even more when telling Arthur about it and he could only hold you hopelessly in his arms as you cried.

How is it that your father or even your future husband never stopped to wonder if YOU were okay with this? It was like they treated you like a plastic doll.

To make you feel better, Arthur thought of bringing you to the city to catch a break. There was this restaurant he wanted to treat you to, it did seem high class and from the menu alone he could barely afford it but if it so much pleases you, it's all worth it.

It's not like a couple of bounty hunting won't work.

So don't even think about paying for the food because it'll offend him.

You two strolled down the streets and that's when you were approached by a man, turns out the town hall was looking to recruit new members for the council and from your appearance you were seen as a potential candidate.

At first you weren't so sure but you ended up accepting the invitation immediately.

The second the man left, Arthur had to pull you aside to talk.

"I don't mean to offend you princess but, I've had my experiences with the council and they ain't exactly the most charming folks" He said, being as polite as he could to not shatter your spirit.

"I know... my husband is apart of the council" You said and his eyes went wide from the sudden news.

"Why... then..."

"I'm tired of being his trophy wife Arthur... and I'm tired of feeling hopeless about it... so I'm gonna take his place... and let him feel what it's like to be miserable" You said, a plan already storming inside your brain and Arthur was here for it. He'd grin.

"That's my girl" He'd say, a proud look on his face.

[yoonmetogether]

Get to know your mutuals

hiiii @moochii-daisies thanks for tagging me!!! this was really fun! sorry for the lack of grammar tho

what's the origin of your blog title? it's kinda corny and i sometimes think of changing it but i'm lazy lol basically just incorporating my fav yoongi nickname and making it a play on words i guess?

favorite fandoms: army, atiny once upon a time i was a hooligan lol

OTP(s)/shipname: sebastian and grell (from black butler)

favorite color: pink

favorite game: honestly? club penguin oh and that card game 'spit'

song stuck in your head: there's so much going on up there i don't really know lol today it was everybody mad and yesterday it was that creepy tiptoe thru the window song idk

weirdest habit/trait? i constantly talk to myself. and if i'm outside i'll pretend to be on the phone so no one thinks im nuts lmaoo

hobbies: writing, reading (when i have the brain capacity), hiking with my dog, singing

if you work, what's your profession? I’m a substitute for elementary school students. I dont think im going to branch out to any other grades bc unfortunately where i live there are higher risks of firearm incidents in middle/high schools 🙃

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? a singer and/or vocal teacher historian, museum curator

something you're good at: oversharing making lattes/mixed drinks

something you're bad at: being on time

something you love: my dog and kitty aka my children markiplier's editor - (also just markiplier in general he's endlessly funny. one day at work i was watching him play that supermarket game and when things weren't going well he went "this is a poopy day! what a shit ass poop ass day!" i had to go hide in a corner for ten minutes to laugh i'm laughing just thinking about it im immature as hell)

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: bts' origin story lol other history related things

something you hate: fascist governments, maga all these fucking ads everywhere like there's an extra $3-4 fee to not see 5 minutes of ads every 10 minutes on a service that already costs $8-12???? i guess i'll be indefinitely paying for youtube premium because i cannot be without my youtubes fuck you capitalism and forced consumption that goes for you too tumblr !!! something you collect: rocks

something you forget: everything. i have the memory of a gnat on acid

what's your love language acts of service

favorite movie/show: movie - spirit: stallion of the cimarron (idk if hamilton counts lol) tv show - new girl and family guy

favorite food: bibimbap if i could eat that every day for the rest of my life i would but i can't cook for shit nor can i afford it lol

favorite animal: my top 3 are elephants, cheetahs, and pigs lol

are you musical? yes! i went to an arts school for vocal music and did musicals from age 6-13. i don't miss the competitive environment but i do miss performing and singing pretty much every day

what were you like as a child? i was an only child with undiagnosed adhd and not a lot of friends im gonna leave it at that

favorite subject at school? history

least favorite subject math

what's your best character trait? i've been told that i give good advice and perspectives on issues and that i'm caring and understanding

what's your worst character trait? umm i get triggered easily when i feel left out (i have unresolved trauma okay im working on it) ((there's that oversharing))

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? that i finished cleaning out my car

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? my great-grandmother bc not only am i named after her but she was also born almost exactly 100 years before me and i want to show her everything i found out about her through the research i did for my undergrad thesis project like some stuff none of our family knew about but i was able to discover

aaaaand on an entirely different note, brendan frasier on the set of the mummy

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love) first thing that comes to mind is Kanalia it's just so perfectly written and beautiful like the angst and tension is paced so well i wish my memory could be erased so i can read it again for the first time i'm actually about to go reread it now

i'm gonna tag @ot72025 @polarnightmyg and @glossdebut ! but no obligation to do it!

[gravesung-moving]

*  ANSWER  TWENTY - ONE  QUESTIONS  ! some questions may be ‘ ??? ‘ instead of answered.

01.    NICKNAME  :  raine 02.    REAL  NAME  : emma 03.    ZODIAC  : gemini 04.    HEIGHT  : 5′9′’ 05.    WHAT  TIME  IS  IT  ?  : 10:54 am. 06.    FAVOURITE  MUSICIANS  /  GROUPS  :  lately it's been hoz.ier, air traffic controller, hal.sey (thanks hol), brick + mortar, the neighbourhood, zack hemsey (underrated, listen to him), and then just 100000 other artists that i only know 1-2 songs by because of character playlists 07.    FAVOURITE  SPORTS  TEAM  : uhh hh h (sweats) the sportsball sportsballers (nodding. i'm so cool and know a single thing about sp 08.    OTHER  BLOGS  :  @/huntershowl, my main blog! beloved oc, writing whom has changed my life in so many ways! also elizabeth bioshock at @/cewyll but the activity there is super low rn. she sleebin. once dragon age comes out she'll wake back up 09.    DO  I  GET  ASKS  ?  : HAHA. (TAKES A LOGN DRAG OF A CIGARETTE) bOY DO I MISS GETTING NICE ONES 10.    HOW  MANY  BLOGS  DO  I  FOLLOW  ?  : 133 (wow? goddamn) 11.    ANY  TUMBLR  CRUSHES  :  oo. i haven't been here super long (since The Resurgence at least) & pre-anime boy takeover this blog was more just a friends-only sandbox zone, so i don't do a lot of outreach still. —but also, who are we kidding, yes 100%: @vzmky's geto portrayal & art has me in shambles. same goes for @brazenlystrong, ur art and portrayal is so [chef kiss]??? (& lbr you two are a package deal SDHSKJDH) —@sasouken we've only written together a little bit so far, but i'm already like !!! EEE whenever i see a message or reply from u. such an honor honestly. —also silly but needs to be said, despite literally being mains @chaoslulled is STILL fuckin awe inspiring in every way. i still get a little thrill when i see ur replies AND I DO STILL READ EVERY ONE THREE TIMES 12.    LUCKY  NUMBER  : 4 (thanks artemis fowl) 13.    WHAT  AM  I  WEARING  RIGHT  NOW  : pjs... though im about to change into some kinda cuteass fall outfit for a walk outside & the gym 14.    DREAM  VACATION  : prollyyyyyy italy to visit mine papá... although tokyo & amsterdam sound very fun too i just love cities 15.    DREAM  CAR  : a solid public transport system 16.    FAVOURITE  FOOD  :  curry. any kind of curry 17.    DRINK  OF  CHOICE  : coffee (flat cappuccino or just drip w/ cream), spicy black teas (dont get me started ill talk forever), or if we're talking alcohol, i always gravitate toward floral gin drinks 18.    LANGUAGES  :  english but i am learning welsh for fun. at some point i GOTTA start learning italian but i'm putting it off because i'm lazy 19.    INSTRUMENTS  :  cello & piano, a ttteeeeeeeny bit of guitar, took vocal lessons for a while, but honestly cello is my main bitch forever and ever 20.    CELEBRITY  CRUSHES  :  c.ate blanchett, d.aniel henney, k.eanu reeves, j.anelle monae, k.ing princess, uhhh kaoru kobayashi has real hot scarred dad vibes in midnight diner (this answer has not changed since 2019 when i last did it) 21.    RANDOM  FACT  : i just started an art mentorship!! gonna be commissioned a custom mural (themed on isolation, there will be hellhound & lighthouse themes involved most likely lbr) & later this fall, doing some inking for a mecha comic under guidance of a local artist i admire so much. it's gonna take an entire year but i'm so excited about it, especially because i want to eventually make my own webcomic/GN about mx houndcreature eventually (soonish) 

TAGGED   BY  :  thiefed it.

TAGGING  :  y'all know by now that i barely have enough confidence to tag the earlier ppl. THIEF IT. TAG ME SO I CAN SEE. but also @tewwor because you tagged me in this 5 yrs ago

[co27]

9 people you'd like to know better

tagged by: @funshinebf woah!! hey!! hi!! :3

a) three ships:

DELLUMBRA. my beloveds forever and ever and ever. an animator put della and penumbra holding hands in the chibi valentines day thing and its the only thing that matters for the rest of time. seeing them never fails to make me the happy smiler

spova... HRHGHGHHGHGHHHHH (STARTS CLAWING AT THE WALLS) im getting a bunch of my irls to watch the show with me and like how do i explain why sparx catching nova in circus of ooze makes me actually start howling in pain. the slow burn... the trust... the botched confessions the loss the self blame. oh god its all just so fucking painful forever ill never be over them

tomshiv :) theyre the perfect eternal punishment for each other and i love seeing them make each other suffer. the dirty talk scene in season 3 permanently altered my brain chemistry and tom wambsgans mr brightside is the greatest video of our generation

a1: bonus ships:

SERIREI :) save me serirei... serirei save me... such a classic i love those crazy businessmen. 2018 serirei was literally the perfect era like you had to be there

joongdok. thousand yard stare. ive been coming around to yoohankim lately too but i feel like a lot of content doesnt really capture what i like about orv so i dont look at or like a lot of the shippy content in the first place

gibotto

also gibson/sparx

b) first ever ship:

...... :( it was grey/juvia from fairy tail. yandere x tsundere was like elite to me. if i close my eyes and pretend im in a universe where fairy tail is good i can honestly see the vision. the first one that made me really crazy crazy about shipping though was germany and italy from hetalia unfortunately. sorry. and sometimes i fear i may never escape the annoyingly optimistic x grump who secretly likes it trope and its all their fucking fault

c) last song:

hello, i love you by adore delano. SHE JUST GETS ME

d) last movie:

uuhhhh fuck i watch a lot of movies absolutely baked with my friends so its hard to remember. i think everything everywhere all at once :) i sincerely believe it is one of the best movies ever made. STEPHANIE HSU WAS ROBBED AT THE OSCARS

e) currently reading:

cirice by madeline miller, i havent picked it up in months tho... and i keep telling myself im going to start one piece and dungeon meshi but i havent yet #laziness

f) currently watching:

sooo many things but im currently keeping up with season 16 of drag race with my friend. besides that primarily trigun stampede and hannibal because im watching those with my friends. and i count srmthfg again. but also dungeon meshi is on the backburner too. and a million other things like the boys and interview with the vampire... GOD THERES TOO MANY SHOWS GUYS

g) currently consuming:

idk waht this means. if its about eating then i have a big tub of cocktail peanuts that im munching on right now

h) currently craving:

DAVES HOT CHICKEN. SAVE ME DAVES HOT CHICKEN

9 people to tag:

um uh um uhhh @godza @morguerue @irradiatedsnakes @faglagomorph @treecakes @itaots @soulreaper @puppetlooselystrung @vampirewings and also anyone else who wants to talk about themselves yay!!! i hope its okay i tagged you heart emoji <3

easily copyable version under the cut for joy and prosperity yay

9 people you'd like to know better

tagged by:

a) three ships:

a1: bonus ships:

b) first ever ship:

c) last song:

d) last movie:

e) currently reading:

f) currently watching:

g) currently consuming:

h) currently craving:

9 people to tag:

[endofbeginings]

F1 ask game hiiiiiiiiiiiii

tysm @driveroftheday for ze tag

Who is your favorite driver? Fernandoooooo and seb<3

Do you have other favorite drivers? from the current grid: charles, oscar, alex.

Who is your least favorite driver? Pierre maybe? I dont think about him at all

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well? Drivers but at the end of the day im a forza ferrari ragazza... my favourite drivers were/are a part of ferrari and i had italian family members so it would be illegal not to. Im always happy if they win although im not too worried about being faithful lmao

How long have you been into F1? since the beginning of last year! its funny how crazy it made me in such little time

What got you into F1? One time at 3am i was procrastinating studying for finals so i went on youtube. Somehow the 2020 sakhir gp highlights got recomended to me and i watched it out of pure luck. I got sooooo invested and I EVEN CRIED so the next day i went all in. But my family loves f1 so its not like i went completely blind, i just didnt know anything about 2010 onwards.

To be fair i cry watching sports very regularly...... the hardwork and camaraderie get to meeeeeeeeeee

Do you enjoy fanfic/RPF? Yes, i dont really read fics unless they are short cause im lazy these days but im a child of the internet rpf is like water to me

How do you view new fans? I am the new fans in questions soo..... some of them are deranged tho esp on twitter

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why? stake etc etc team cause its not like i could make them go worse than they already are and valtteri and zhou seem pretty cool

Are your friends and family into F1 as well? A friend and my mom. She used to watch it with her brothers all the time, then stopped, and now we watch races together.

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends? of course!!! everyone and anyone talk to me.

Tagging @formulahs @daghecharlie @st-leclerc @transbrucewayne @liamlawsonlesbian if they havent done ittttt<3

[prince-of-moths]

To the reblogged thing of why people follow you; Harlequinn, forest, raspberry. Enjoy your night, you crazy fucking gremlin

Aww :3 I am the craziest bitch here or anywhere

[mcrizzystardust]

hiii :))!

name: key! you can also call me smickles if you'd like :)

pronouns: it/its/he/him, im transmasc

number of siblings: i have one little sister! we're almost a decade apart, and live in different households hours apart from each other, though. i get to see her every few months, and sometimes we text, she's so energetic and can be quite annoying but i love her with my entire heart <3

number of pets: none :( although i did used to have a cat, named binkibadoodles 🫶

fandoms: fnaf, mcr, vox machina, tlou, toh, community, jackass, david bowie, spn, sab/soc, arcane, rwrb, fleabag, marauders, rhps, otgw, rez dogs, etc! :)

fave colour: i dont really have one :P

fave song: right now, "come on eileen" by the dexy midnight runners, although it changes very quickly

fave author: @solmussa because they wrote "only the brave" (on ao3) and i will forever worship the very ground they stand upon.

hobbies: drawing! watching tv, rotting in bed :P

fave fic type: rn i am utterly obsessed with regulus black centric time travel fics 🙏

fave holiday: samhain <3333

partner/s: i have a wonderful ld boyfriend!! we've been together for over a year now :)) im also desperately still in love with my ex and we're talking, but taking it very slow and easy so we dont make the same mistakes and dont self destruct again

fun facts: uhhhh, let's see! im mlm/achillean/kinda t4t and asexual(??💀) and polyam, im a socialist, i adore david bowie, mcr, misfits and nirvana, im punk (/grunge/goth/too lazy to have an aesthetic) and love diy'ing shit, im audhd, have bpd and pots, am in/working on mental health recovery, im in college working on my diploma/ged after dropping out of highschool, im indigenous, and a satanist :)

no pressure tags ✨❤️

@fairylittlebitch @coffeeforkai @junebuggyyyy @lemonastrial (and @solmussa if you see this and are interested :])

I got bored so here's a little get-to-know-you tag game I think could be fun :3

Name(s)

Pronouns

Star sign

# of siblings & fun facts about them (if you have any)

# of pets & their names

Fandoms

Favorite color

Favorite song

Favorite author (of anything readable-- books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, whatever!)

Hobbies

Favorite fic type

Favorite holiday

Do you have any partner(s)? (romantic, qpp, anything!)

Fun facts about you / anything extra you wanna share!

────────

Name(s): Loki (highly preferred), Elye

Pronouns : they/them mostly, he/she okay too

Star sign: Pisces

# of siblings: I've got 2! An older sister and a younger sibling. The fun fact about them is that they're also both queer; in fact, my mom is too. The only non-queer person in my immediate family is my dad.

# of pets: 4 cats! Phoebe & Frankie are our girls, Lenny and Murray are our boys :3

Fandoms: MCU (kind of), BSD, OFMD, Ranboo (does his fanbase count as a fandom?)

Fav. color: Don't have one

Fav. song: Aurora Borealis by Lemon Demon

Fav. author: Alice Oseman

Hobbies: singing, acting, drawing, writing, procrastinating

Fav. fic type: Fluff, definitely. I am a sucker for well written coffee-shop and flower-shop aus, too. Smut's fine, but only if it's romantic. I can't do angst if there's no comfort.

Fav. Holiday: Hanukkah or Halloween! I love autumn and winter

Partners?: Yes! I have a girlfriend (queerplatonic) who I love very much, and a boyfriend (romantic) who I love very much :]

Fun facts:

- Even though I'm a cat person, I really, really want a dog.

- I actually used to play sports. Because I don't do gendered leagues anymore, I don't play, but I've been looking for mixed/gender-neutral/queer sports teams. Baseball and basketball specifically!

- I started questioning my identity in 2019; I'm no closer to finding a label now than I was then. The difference is, now I don't want a label. I just am. :]

tags: @neonganymede @cha0ticlesbian @x-chiara @exceleo @brinnybee @autistic-katara @gandalfthemorallygrey @ohboyanotherlokiblog @roachandrenfri @ourflagmeanslokius @exceleo @edettethegreat @swiftlyspidey

[catamaurrr-star]

catamaurhatesbabies -> catamaurrr-star

general info!!!

heya im maurane (maur for short) or mumb or gri (you can use any i dont have a preference) sometimes i go by catamaur i use mostly he/him pronouns [but she if you're talking abt me with someone else who doesnt know me] and im a demiboy and also aroace. my favorite color is also purple ALSO i have a CAT!!!!!!! his name is soup he's orange and he likes to sleep ontop of the fridge. i love him you can use my art as pfps!!! just 1) credit me somewhere and 2) tell me because it makes me happy to know :3

king of underrated bangers and professional question asker(sometimes) if i reply or tag your post with "YAAAAYYYYY" that means i love you a lot btw. also if you tag me in a tag game there is like a 5% chance i will do it i post a lot and have hit the post limit numerous times and have had grian in my queue once a day for like a year now so be warned i didn't buy my badges i was gifted them.thank you random anon(s)

pfp is by @.cherrifire !!!!

dni/dnf if you dislike/hate cats. or post a lot nsfw and stuff. also no nsfw interactions w me

tags and more info!!!

info about my ocs here :33333 (ask me about my ocs ask me about my ocs ask me abo) (disclaimer: missing a few cause im too lazy to add them 😔)

tag listttt: maurposting : my own original posts honkai mumb rail : me posting about anything hsr related (very often) best tumblr post ever : posts that i really like. basically faves maurt : my own art (do you get the pun ) graphics interchange formaurt : my gifs mr ear man's collection : my asks oc : very simple. oc posting nothingburger ass post : posts that make me wonder what i was on while making them

fandoms n characters i like are here

sideblogs and fav things!!!

MY VARIOUS YANQING BLOGS: @daily-yanqing for doodles(and also the only Semi-active one), @certifiedyanqingposts for whats in the name, @cloud-knight-yanqing for in character roleplay, @yanqing-where-he-shouldnt-be for putting yanqing in various different locations (can you tell i like yanqing from hsr) purely oc sideblog is @catamaurscards (check it out PSPSPSPSSSS) and my purely art sideblog is @ix-the-nihility (yes its an hsr reference southlands sideblog over at @lastlifesouthlands sw doodle acc at @sometimes-silverwolf

if you ask/tell me about: any cat ever, yanqing from hsr, any of my ocs, anything psychology related, minecraft smps, honkai star rail in general, fish, whatever my current hyperfixation is at the moment, i will love you forever

shout out 2 you for getitng this far. your prize is the invite to my yanqing communtiy because i set it to private and i cant publicize it nowWhoops^_^

⬇️a bunch of random images i want on my pinned

[adhdphilosopher]

i hate being a picky eater :( i didn’t used to be so picky but over the last year and some i’ve just struggled to get myself to eat like.... 70% of the things i come across

this has been a growing thing since like 2 or 3 months before the first lockdown in america so i don’t think it’s related to that at all but like

:(((( i just want to enjoy things like normal people

[bitegore]

Man it's really a bittersweet thing when you bare your insecurities to someone and get an affirmative back. Like you say "man i feel like you don't like being around me much any more" and you get a "lol not really, im sick of you" back that... that fuckin hurts, but its better than living in denial because they never confirmed it

then you can cut them out more easily but sometimes idk man you sorta dont want to because you still hold on to the good times even though they're gone and have been for months

[jangofctts]

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)    

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT  

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace. 

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy. 

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.    

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.   

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.” 

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.       

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it. 

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.     

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…  

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.” 

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.  

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.” 

You smile. “Lovely.” 

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like  a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.  

                                        -=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality. 

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.     

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.” 

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—  

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home. 

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.  

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare. 

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement. 

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.” 

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors. 

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.” 

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.        

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.  

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—   

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.  

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot. 

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away. 

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle. 

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder. 

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.   

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.” 

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.     

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.” 

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat. 

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.      

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—        

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder. 

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind. 

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile. 

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.  

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll. 

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit. 

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak. 

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement. 

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses. 

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short. 

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”  

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more. 

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains. 

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.         

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his  calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself. 

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist.  Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes. 

Fuck yeah.    

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock. 

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh. 

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—    

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge. 

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.     

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.   

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.” 

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.   

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.   

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation. 

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.” 

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from  your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.   

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark. 

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now. 

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.      

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.  

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?   

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs. 

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question. 

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command. 

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.   

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.    

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff. 

Fuck, you need more.   

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.    

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight. 

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you. 

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.    

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.        

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.  

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“ 

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.” 

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs. 

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.  

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days. 

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.          

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs. 

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much. 

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”      

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.” 

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.       

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.   

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.    

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.” 

There we go. 

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes. 

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness. 

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile. 

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep. 

taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb   @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeaches @pettyprocrastination @nelba @beskars @jango-fettish @corrupt-fvcker @maybege @auty-ren @legally-a-bastard @bigdickdindjarin @thesparkleslugs @cryptid-candy @mandowhorian @pascaliprincess @mitchi-c @vesperstalksclones @cmakars @cptnbvcks @whewchiles @leias-left-hair-bun @astrochellie @angryares @rise-my-angel @stardust-galaxies @phoenixhalliwell @samhollandssweaters @blue-writes-a03 @hdlynnslibrary @darthadeline @calamity-queen @luxurybeskar @justanotherblonde23 @book-hoardingdragon @fahrenheit-not @princessxkenobi @skdubbs @ben-is-a-hoe @3strogen @chasingdreamer @weebblossom @bobaandthefetts​

sorry if I missed you AH!!!!

[dakotazoidstan]

a blip from my corny high school movie au that i dont wanna fully put on ao3 bc im lazy :)

@2rat @therandomfuzz2 yall commented that you might like to read it so so im tagging you, hope thats alright!

step siblings heather & noah recoup in the kitchen after courtney and alejandro confirm their relationship status..

Contrary to what Eva said, Noah was not throwing himself a pity party. He was better than that. It was very normal to sit at the table in the middle of the night playing Breath of the Wild while eating a bowl of cereal. The fuzzy blanket was normal, too.

He couldn’t help but jump at the sound of footsteps before he recognized them as Heather’s. As a senior in high school, the youngest of his eight older sisters had moved out only six months ago, but he had already gotten used to the lack of company in the house. Having Heather and her younger siblings around now was still a bit weird.

She walked straight to the fridge without offering him a word or a second glance, merely rolling her eyes after giving him a once over. He turned back to his game. That was another thing about this new step-sister Heather situation- she was still Heather. And to her, he was still just Noah. Their attitudes toward each other from years of school together were hard to change.

“We’re out of Eggos,” she complained. “We bought those, like, two days ago.”

Noah knew that every time Izzy came over she would make at least three at a time and eat them plain, but he didn’t snitch.

“God, and Alejandro ate the last of my good ice cream, too,” she groaned and went on despite his silence. He tried not to shoot her any looks- it’s not a pity party, but he didn’t want to think about Alejandro.

He did notice, however, that her posture also changed after saying his name. She tapped her nails on the fridge door before turning to him slow.

“You and Alejandro are friends.”

It wasn’t really a question, but the statement turned up at the end in a way Noah didn’t like. He gave her a deadpan stare before turning back to his game.

“What makes you say that?”

She rolled her eyes and closed the fridge to lean against it.

“Like, you guys talk in class and every time he comes over you argue until he ends up hanging out in your room for whatever reason. And he brings you coffee in the morning! Which is bullshit because he almost never does that for me.”

Hearing all this from Heather's perspective just soured Noah's mood even more, and a frown fully settled over his face.

“I meant, what’s your point? Why are you saying this?”

“I mean I'm asking if he ever mentioned dating Courtney,” He slammed his thumbs hard on the buttons of his Switch, swinging Link's sword wildly. “Or being even remotely interested in her romantically.”

“No, he didn’t. Why would he?”

“We just established that you’re friends, idiot,” she huffed and reached into the pocket of her bathrobe to extract a nail file. “Plus, y’know, guys talk about that stuff together.”

Now he gave her a scoff that was almost a laugh.

“Well, we don’t.”

“Weird, ugh, he didn’t tell me either!”

“Honey, you’re his ex-girlfriend,” he reminded her dully. “I imagine he wouldn’t exactly run to you for love advice.”

“But we agreed to stay friends-ish because we-… argh! That’s none of your business,” she cut herself off fast, pointing her nail file at him threateningly despite his still bored look. He raised an eyebrow and she went on. “But Courtney is my friend too, so I would've thought that one of them would’ve shared this with me!”

He doesn’t like his own confusion and displeasure toward the situation reflected to him like this. The fact that Heather has no idea of his real feelings for Alejandro doesn’t help, but it would only be worse if she knew. Heather wasn’t exactly known for being kind and understanding.

“Well, he didn’t,” he turned back to his Switch. “Get over it.

“You don’t get it, twerp, this is betrayal,” she opened the refrigerator again hopelessly, her lip curling as she continued ranting. “We’re a trio! They’ve coupled up and blindsided me, it’s humiliating!”

It's shitty and he knows it, but this doesn’t really increase his sympathy for her as she’d hoped. He stood with a snort to take his bowl to the sink and she glared at him each step he took closer.

“Well, high school can be that way when you create and uphold stupid social games and clique statuses.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, your freaky friends certainly aren’t dating anybody,” she spits. It’s weak and she knows it, but continued. “And pretty people have different friendship codes than losers.

“At least they’re real enough to tell me if they did want to date each other,” he sneered back.

Heather blinked before relaxing into a smirk with a measured huff.

“Alejandro is your friend who didn’t.”

He exhaled hard through his nose, rolling his eyes as he turned away. She hummed dismissively even as he went to the table and picked up his Switch to leave.

“I honestly think they’re fucking faking it,” Heather stated conspiratorially, pulling the jar of maraschino cherries from the fridge. “They said it’s real, but I think it’s a long prank. They’re trying to pull one on me and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Noah honestly wanted to consider it, but he had never been the hopeful type when it came to things like this. He was logical and unlucky. The truth was, he and Alejandro never talked about romance or crushes, especially not girls. Noah was gay and was kept his priorities on school, and Alejandro once mentioned trying to “focus on himself” after his on-and-off mess with Heather. Noah didn’t push it. So maybe it made sense that Alejandro wouldn’t have mentioned interest in Courtney to him- from his perspective, maybe Noah didn’t care.

The thought makes the milk aftertaste in his mouth worse.

“Well, I'm going to bed,” he told her. “Good luck on your case, Sherlock.”

She tossed a cherry in her mouth and smiled as if he had been genuine.

“I will.”

[prince-of-moths]

For the fanfic writer ask game: 🎁🦋🍬?

🦋: I was gonna say Sun but looking at my FNAF wips I write Moon a lot more... I think I just smell angst and go a runin

🍬: I haven't actually uploaded all of my fics, but I have written for FNAF, voltron, Minecraft, DHMIS, and Stardew valley. As for favs I think FNAFs would be the merm fic, I had a good vld fic revolving around Lance going under a sort of curse that transfered his consciousness to a cat, Minecraft and DHMIS technically only have one fic a piece (hello mc ocs, you are in hell. Don't hug me is just a in depth snip of Yellow digging up Ducks grave). Stardew has a few but I have a sort of apocalypse werewolf fic I keep rotating in my brain lmao

🎁: less of a wip more of a drabble, but fresh off the grill I present: Classic ball before a heist scene but with a disaster party two of which keep saying they hate each other but insist on playing what can only be described as gay chicken! No warnings apply, just a lot of dancing and a mild innuendo. Enjoy!

Moon was stronger than he looked- well he had to be to be frank or else a baby could overtake him. It lended well to dancing though, even if he did use his lead to twist you this way and that.

“Arch your back more.” He murmured, a finger lightly trailing up your spine as he leaned you over him. You leaned closer to get away from the ticklish sensation, allowing him to dip you. He spun you out before you could think to “accidentally” step on his foot.

“Stop showing off.” You hissed, trying not to flush and chicken away as his face stayed close to your own.

“It’s working isn’t it?” He was right, anyone not making goo-goo eyes at their dance partner was focused on you, including the mark. The music slowed down and a few watchers gave some light courtesy claps as you bowed, moving close to the hors d'oeuvres table with a slow steady walk. You didn’t look back, but you could hear the mark pushing through the crowd. He slowed as you turned to lean against the pillar, briefly mourning the loss of your portion of rich people snacks.

“May I have a dance?” You did your best “oh me? Oh wow!” smile and nod, letting him drag you to the center of the dance floor. You saw him motion to the band- likely a demand to play the only song he could confidently dance to- before you were pressed against his starchy suit.

“I feel like I’ve seen you from somewhere…” He led, steps ever so slightly off the beat.

“Hmm, doubtful. I’m from across the mountains, and I’m fairly certain if I had met you before I would remember.”

“What takes you and your… companion to this side then?” You trailed a leg to slow the spin, giving enough leeway that he was back on beat when you returned.

“Sightseeing.” You sighed, glancing around at the tapestries on the walls. “I grew bored of the views at my estate.” He raised a brow, a hopeful glint in his eye.

“Yours? Then I suppose the automaton is…”

“As you said, merely companionship. He’s nice to have around.” He laughed at this.

“I suppose it dances well, but they haven’t the first clue how to be a man.” His grin grew as you dipped, held there for slightly too long that it bordered on cramping.

“And I suppose…” Your fingers curled into the edge of his vest, using his intent focus on your lips to curl a finger into the hidden pocket. “You do?” He swallowed as he pulled you up, stumbling lightly over the familiar steps. Bingo. He straightened with false confidence as you asked about his many estates, giving you enough leeway to tuck the keys into one of your many fancy little pockets. They were the only good part about these stuffy dress codes. His breath smelt like overpriced cigars and foreign cologne, by the time you allowed him to kiss your hand and step off your eyes were near watering. You took a few steps towards the snack table again- you were going to eat your weight in crab rangoons you swore- but this time Sun stepped in front of your path. He took one of your hands before you could palm the keys, bowing politely before asking for a dance. Again pulled away from the comforting corners you were pulled onto the now nearing dirty floor. This one was a bit slower than the others, allowing Sun to lead you without the jerky spins and dips that Moon’s dance required.

“You know I could’ve just handed it to you.” You murmured, letting him sway you to the strings.

“Mm, didn’t want anyone to see. They’re all still looking at you y'know.” He let you step away, eyes soft as they drifted over your outfit.

“Can’t say I blame them.” He seemed to get even closer, your hand nearly trapped between your chest and his own. You were starting to dare to think they might be more than just good liars.

“There’s a pocket in my waistcoat.” He reminded you softly, giving you enough time to struggle and slip the golden key from its ring. The material of his white and golden suit were softer than the marks, well worn in a way none of his clothes would ever get to be. You gave him a little nod with your bow, letting out a breath you hadn’t noticed you were holding. A light chime went off over the speakers.

“Esteemed guests, please make your way to the gardens for our Saturnalia feast.” You didn’t have time to spare Sun a glance as the mark- seriously you needed to catch his name before he got too familiar- took you by the waist and moved up the stairs. You merely bit your tongue and thought of the pile of gold that would be lining your pockets soon. Gold could buy many crab rangoons, but just to be safe you would eat a few at the dinner table. Or more than a few, if he was as in your lap as he seemed he probably wouldn’t give two thoughts to your other hand stuffing bread into your many many pockets.