#i used to just rip em out for this reason tbh

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Chrollo Kissing Thought

A/n: Proof read enough to get sick of 3 paragraphs, grammatical errors(?) tbh just sentence structure dw, and teeth. A paragraph about teeth. Thank u and good night.

Chrollo is waiting for the right moment to kiss you. He wants it to be magical, other worldly, just as enchanting as he fantasizes it to be; the plush flesh of your lips and tease of your tongue already invading his mind. Are you the type to be shy and only caress your tongue against his time and time again, or are you bold and willing to give every fiber of yourself to him? Swirling, interlocking, and roping around each other sloppily-- it's the thing of every man's dream.

He wants to feel the structure of your teeth through your warm lips, the outward curve of your lower face clashing against his. Would it be weird if he let his tongue slip across your teeth and to your gums? Occasionally, of course. Chrollo finds the idea of feeling the texture and shape of each individual tooth slotted in the wet, firm insides of your jaw alluring. He longs to study your body, to worship it like it was meant to be. Treasure and read it over repeatedly like the many books he's stowed away in his personal collection of stolen items.

But how to do that without you trying to scratch his face off like an ungrateful house cat? Seems like only time will tell. For now, he'll just stick to kissing your cheeks while you're dead asleep, or ghosting his lips over your shoulders if your guard is down on a good day. Chrollo wants you to at least tolerate him-- which also already seems light years away-- but woe is him for trying to give you a semblance of his affection for you. He's already got you in his unyielding hold, now he just has to play the long game. And it's not like he's worried about rushing things. You two are going to stay together for a very long time, so you'll give in sooner or later. He knows you, and you'll have to.

[x-brik-x]

I'm seeing a lot of people say that punk fashion is expensive and inaccessible, which is very wrong. here is a list of some ways you can make punk fashion easier, cheaper and more accessible for you, since that's... kinda the whole point.

others are encouraged to add onto this!! (just don't recommend corporations like amazon. not cool.)

1. patches!! you don't need to buy them. DIY patches are not ugly or boring. in fact, they are encouraged here!! DIY, in my opinion, is always the best thing to do when it is an option and is safe to do so.

2. speaking of DIY, spikes!! you can make them!!

cut the top and bottom off of an empty can. cut down the middle of the cylinder and flatten it, so it's just a flat rectangle of metal.

cut out a shape that is kind of a third of a circle, but around 3/4 of the curved edge is taken up by triangle shapes. (I'm not very good at describing, so here's a badly drawn picture)

roll it into a cone, leaving the 4 triangles sticking out at the bottom. this bit is optional, but you can fill it with hot glue to make it more sturdy, just be careful touching the hot metal. I tend to hold the cone by one of the triangles with a bit of fabric wrapped around my fingers for this bit. cut 4 small holes in your fabric in this kind of shape:

and put the spiky bits of triangle through the holes. fold the triangles in on themselves to secure the spike in place. boom. spike obtained. this is one I made and attached to a little piece of fabric to test this method out:

3. battle vests!! (like the base jackets). the best places to buy these are charity shops and second hand websites in my opinion, but if anyone else knows any better options, please reblog with those!!

a good trick I find works well on eBay is to filter search results to your country (or state? can you do that in the US? idk) so that a: fast delivery because local, and b: all the sellers of everything that shows up are in YOUR TIME ZONE.

why is this important? when people sell something for really cheap, it goes FAST. check eBay at like, 2am or something. all the scalpers in your area are asleep. grab the cheap stuff while they can't.

4. sewing!! want patches, but can't sew for whatever reason? I've heard of a lot of people with joint conditions like arthritis complain about the inaccessibility of patch stuff, and that does sound extremely annoying, however:

safety pins!! while they are still a little fiddly, they're much less work so you don't have to fiddle about for long. if you can, you could even ask a friend to help, since it doesn't take long at all I'm sure someone will be willing to help out!! (I know I would, but that's just me, and I love this kind of thing). safety pins on clothes are also widely considered to be a symbol of solidarity, so if anything, you're adding some extra love and meaning to your patch pants/battle jacket.

if that's still too fiddly, fabric glue is always an option. unfortunately this means you won't be able to remove/reposition patches, at least without leaving a massive patch of residue, but if you're ok with that then fabric glue is probably your best bet.

for people who prefer sewing: as for where to get the thread, I've heard a lot of people recommending dental floss, as it's apparently much cheaper and works just as well. I haven't tried this myself so can't confirm that, but I thought I'd share it regardless.

5. where to get fabric!! old clothes. rip em up. you don't need any kind of fancy fabric from the craft store. my patches are made of old jeans that I grew out of.

don't have any old clothes and you don't want to waste any good ones? I'm not sure about other countries, but in the UK, as long as you're not on private property (trespassing), dumpster diving is perfectly legal.

I definitely ;) do NOT encourage ;) trespassing rich people's land ;) to steal from their dumpsters ;)

or tbh it doesn't matter too much how rich the person is, since it's all going to landfill anyway. if it's in the bin, it's free game, but you didn't hear that from me. ;)

please add onto this where you can!! and if I missed something or got anything wrong, add that on too!!

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

in chapter 3 of tcp, there was a scene of cardan attacking then tearing a boy’s wings because he didn’t bow, do you think there are more meanings behind this action? it’s my 2nd time rereading tfota trilogy and this scene still baffles me

(i'm gonna copy/paste a lot from this post because i did answer this, but it was part of a reblog, and tbh it deserves its own post cos it's a damn good question.)

i don't think Cardan had a reason behind his actions in that scene so much as i think Holly had a big reason for including it.

i would argue that, from a character creation standpoint, the ripping of the faerie's wings provides the most important context for Cardan's character in TCP. foremost, it is our very first impression of him. he is truly cruel in that scene. he is at his worst.

one thing they taught us in Creative Writing school: always introduce your characters in a way that shows them doing something that is fundamental to their character.

the book is called The Cruel Prince, ergo we can only assume Holly wanted Cardan to be perceived as cruel. so the first thing we see him doing? something vicious and irredeemable, for no apparent reason (other than to be a dick). it makes us trust Jude's hatred for him; it makes us hate Cardan, too.

if we take that scene out, however, Cardan seems all bark and no bite. sure, he actively insults Jude. and he may even participate in his friends' more malicious bullying. but he's shit with a sword and clearly takes a more subdued role in the bullying scenes (see: watching out for the nixies to make sure they weren't getting too close, telling Valerian to stop when he was suffocating Jude, pricking Jude's finger to sober her up).

so what does Jude really have to be afraid of without that first scene?

certainly not Cardan specifically, but rather, his cohort as a whole. and tbh that's not much more specific than just saying "everything in Faerie is terrifying", which she does indeed point out multiple times. but she needed to be afraid of him, and therefore, she needed a believable reason for that fear.

there's a difference between being actively cruel and passively cruel, and the ripping of the faerie's wings transforms Cardan from the latter to the former simply and effectively.

so yes. he is mean and cruel and cowardly. i suppose it's fine for people to have qualms with him for everything he did/did not do in TCP.

but i happen to think growth is very sexy so i will not be holding any of that against him 😌✨

��Em 🖤🗡

In Defence of Cardan Greenbriar

more theories and analysis

[cchanticleer]

I'm still rankled by the lack of good refs for robin's clothes so i got more

As far as i know there's not a single bit of official art that shows them in their default tactician digs without their coat on so it's come to drastic measures, digging in to the actual models.

Fates, as seen above, offers the most complete look. In this version the coat is an entirely separate thing, and underneath it the clothes are fully modeled and textured. I used paragon to remove the coat; i'm not sure if you'd ever be able to see this all in-game normally. Maybe the coat goes away with clothing damage? I'll have to check later.

getting at things in other games is more of a pain, but worth looking into.

To be clear: I'm not looking at coat here, just what's underneath. TBH i was mostly personally interested in seeing what their golden collar bit is attached to. often when people draw robin's clothes they go off of this fan-made reference sheet, which adds a little mini jacket thing which i personally don't like the look of no insult to the creator it's just not my jam which is why i spent so much time trying to fine accurate refs while I always just assumed it was a part of the coat itself. Turns out we're both wrong!

I know the first model you'd want to look at is the one from Awakening itself, but unfortunately i couldn't find a rip of the model on first glance. BUT, while pulling usable models straight from the game files is out of my wheelhouse, i CAN pull the textures. So we'll look at that instead.

Here's the body textures for f!Robin from Awakening. It's a bit tricky to parse, but from what i'm seeing the parts of the clothes that are covered up are unsurprisingly not modeled/textured. The skirt-thing is almost the same, though the gold band running across the middle of the back segment is smooth instead of having two sharp bends. Other than that I don't see very much of note.

Next: Warriors. I got the models from here. I haven't touched blender in years but i remember just enough to tear things apart and see what's underneath. Looking at unpromoted m!Robin once again.

I only bothered to delete what was covering things on one side because it's all basically symmetrical, half's enough to get the idea. Again, my first priority was seeing what the collar was attached to, and it turns out the answer to that is "not much". They didn't bother modeling the whole thing, reasonably assuming that it'd never be seen. You can see that it's definitely its own garment separate from the coat and the top, but beyond that there ain't much. What we can see doesn't match the design from fates, though. I'd figure that it doesn't match because there's no point in adding details that no one'll ever see, but that's not where the changes end.

Here's the lower body, where we can see that the back of the skirt-y portion is completely different. In Awakening (as far as i can tell from the textures) and in Fates it's two segments, the smaller front segment and a second, larger segment that wraps all the way around. In this, there's four, with a matching front and back and matching sides.

Also there's a few points on the belt section where things are clipping through each other, but i'm pretty sure that was a part of the model as i got it and not a result of my cutting things up. Whether that's how it is in game or something that's happened when it was ported to blender, i couldn't say.

Last is Smash Bros.

I'm gonna be honest i had sort of run out of steam at this point and since i didn't see any models that had already been conveniently formatted for blender i kinda phoned this one in.

I looked around just long enough to see that a) there's even less of the collar piece modeled, it stops as soon as it's covered by the coat and b) the skirt-y thing is once again in two pieces. Here's the textures if anyone wants to try and parse em

I guess there's also codename: steam

I am not going to check codename: steam

In conclusion i spent entirely too much time on this but maybe someone will be able to use this mess as reference idk

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

re: Why the Coppernob/Cornwall war

thanks to @houseboatisland for helping me punch up the insult a bit ;) been carryin' my ass all day, actually —

To a large extent they just have just been instilled with different value systems. So they're constantly judging each other.

Could they have left all this behind when they both separately embarked on their preservation years? I mean I guess but that’d be boring for them both. Let ‘em hang on to what little they have left from those days. Also, there was An Incident that cemented Coppernob’s enmity, justifying it retroactively… and for the next couple hundred years… 

Scene: 1898. F.R. 3 and 4 are making their final preparations, preparing to be dismantled for the last time in the coming winter. 4 has the bright idea to write to Cornwall. Apologize for their part in the old quarrel. Wish him and his well in the years ahead.

It should be noted 3 was against this idea from the start. But 4 was feelin’ chipper with a warm sense of good-fellowship peace-on-earth-goodwill-to-man, so he went right on ahead with the project.

3: He'll never reply.

4: He doesn't have to reply. The letter says so.

3:  Well... don't put my name on it!

4 and 4's driver: *ignore him. 3's name is signed to this bullshit too.*

To everyone's surprise, they do get a reply. Aaaand it's basically 'lol get scrapped losers. couldn’t even remember who you were till cousin columbine reminded me of the two grubby little humpback radishes i used to leave in my dust. anyway lmao imma live forever bitch. hope hell's hot enough for ya… probably gonna be a big step up from barrow tbh.' Bonus: insults their long-dead sisters.

4: .... bit harsh, that

3: I told you! I told you!!

Of course in the end 3 is also preserved and now he can carry the memory of the time Cornwall basically spat in the face of all three of his dead siblings until the end of time.

***

But. 

I'm gonna be honest, I suspect Cornwall doesn't know the letter was sent. Like his attitude was "oh fuck them" and then he and his closest mates had a roaring session where they all tried to out-do each other on what Cornwall should write back but he has no idea some officious Company-proud shed employee dutifully wrote down all the roasts and sent the result back off to Barrow. Cornwall fully disliked the Copper-Nobs, and he is a jerk, but, like. He's not evil. If the engineman-turned-scribe had had the sense to confirm the letter he wrote up on his behalf Cornwall would undoubtedly have been like 'oh lmao no just rip it up.'

Which makes it all the funnier to me, ngl. Coppernob hates Cornwall intensely because he knows what a foul rat he secretly is. Cornwall thinks Coppernob is carrying a new degree of grudge because he didn't write back with kum-bye-ya we're-all-pals-now and scoffs at it. Other engines have picked up on the dark hints they've both thrown out about this incident and have had difficulty assembling them into a coherent narrative, for obvious reasons. It's a mess. If tomorrow they realized they were at cross purposes and Coppernob quoted that letter-he-totally-hasn’t-memorized Cornwall would be like 'WHAAAAT i never wrote that' and Coppernob would fuckin' die of humiliation when he learned Cornwall thought he'd been in a strop for a hundred twenty five years only because Cornwall left his apology on read and now his widdle fweelings were hurt. 'I'd never have given a fuck if there'd been no reply!! I never even wanted Four to send that stupid letter!!!!' 'real shit? haha that actually does make more sense lol your brother was such a loser — '

Aaaaaand I guess that'd be the beginning of the third phase of the endless grudge.

So maybe it’s inevitable. They gotta despise each other. It’s fate. 

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

ASK GAME ! ASK GAME ! ASK GAME ! which as I chant out loud sounds like I'm saying "ass game" ... same difference honestly sksksksk

Hiii for the violence ask game (love being a hater) I wanted to know 1, 2, 3 and 23 for whatever fandoms you feel the most passionate about

I wouldn't say that I love being a hater, but I do love being right lmao

also I am feeling spicy so these are gonna be for different fandoms

1 - the character everyone gets wrong

JASON. MOTHER FUCKING. TODD

especially the fandom interpretation Titans version, but like damn

(even other canons get him wrong, and Titans did him so right and people refuse to acknowledge it)

(I could also say Lori Grimes, and Andrea Harrison, and Dick Grayson, and Michonne Hawthorne, and even Gar Logan tbh but this is the rant I am picking)

white cis fanboys just see him as the violent revenge perpetrator - distilled rage, 'the bad sibling', the criminal, the cool one, the gunslinger. fucking whatever

but I am not even so big on a lot of women's interpretation of comics Jason - as some big soft cuddle bug who just needs to be treated softly and cuddled uwu, someone who rip out the throat of anyone who looks at you the wrong way and basically acts like a big bad doberman guard dog in your life (someone possessive and angry and jealous in a love life). again - no

Jason is one of the most emotionally complex characters and the only people who truly understand him are me and Curran Walters.

Jason is a wreck. he was set up to fail - his backstory of poverty and sadness isn't just about giving him some revenge to seek or making him a more conventional criminal, it's his emotional core. everything that has ever happened to him in his life makes him who he is, and so many people don't understand those layers. (so many people don't even acknowledge the differences between him and Dick before Jason became Red Hood). Jason is depressed, he's insecure, he thinks that he's nothing but a problem in other people's lives.

he uses violence as a tool because it's all he's ever known. in a relationship, he would be difficult to connect with because no one has ever truly tried before. he wouldn't be instantly loving - he would be guarded as hell.

I could go on a long time, but anyway - Titans Jason is largely a thing that the show got right and so many people refuse to acknowledge it because they just want to mock Curran's looks and it makes me want to bash my head into things

2 - a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

I have to do it to em - Spencer Reid would never be a fucking dom. NEVER

(also I know that bottom and top aren't synonyms for dom and sub but I think this ask game was created with mostly mlm ships in mind, so I am talking about this in a dom/sub context because I mostly write and consume x reader fics with bdsm dynamics)

Spencer is a sub. anybody who says that he is a dom, even a 'soft dom' is fucking lying to themselves because they have a particular fantasy that they want him to fit into. even later seasons Spencer would never be a dom

just because someone has rage and acts intimidating towards someone they consider an enemy doesn't mean they would ever feel the confidence to actually be dominant and in charge in bed. that man is walked like a dog constantly by other people in his life, and the only time he 'takes control' of a 'romantic' interaction is when he is with Cat - someone he also considers to be an enemy, an unsub that he can psychologically control. see the pattern?

3 - screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

I have discussed this before, and I wish I had a screenshot because without proof it almost doesn't seem real

someone saying that Spencer loves Henry more than JJ does - in a massive post where they listed all the reasons that JJ 'ruined' Spencer's life (which just gobsmacked me)

that post was a huge inspiration for the JJ/Spencer friendship scenes in [REDACTED]

I just cannot believe that the fandom is so fucking detached and unrealistic about JJ

23 - ship you've unwillingly come around to

...Richonne

this is in large part from what I have seen about The Ones Who Live spin-off, and I recently realized that the title of the spin-off comes from a scene where Michonne punches Rick in the head in order to literally knock some sense into him, so I fucking love that (and it seems like that's what the whole show is - her literally forcing sense into him after he's become detached from reality due to being held hostage by whatever the fuck that group's name is)

and I think The Thrifty Typewriter really put their relationship into terms that I was struggling with. so many Walking Dead ladies were relegated to nothing but being 'the love interest' once they became a love interest to someone. and if they were struggling with what to do with a female character, they turned her into a love interest for someone

Andrea being paired with a Governor, Rosita not getting more interesting storylines until after she parted from Abraham, Sasha being with Bob and then Abraham and then dying (although I think Sasha has a lot of interesting emotional beats, I see the point in saying that), Jessie (who could have had so much potential outside of just being a love interest for Rick, especially when they clearly had Richonne in mind), Lori's entire existence, etc.

So my huge problem with Richonne is that Michonne was so interesting before she got with Rick. And after she got with Rick, she lost all of her interesting traits, and she was stripped down to 'Lori 2.0'. Pregnant housewife character who stays at home and almost never fights. Rick was spotlighted and she was almost never around until Rick drowned. And I think I loved The Ones Who Live because it gave her back a lot of her fire and her autonomy as well as adding more to the romance, so it was the best of both worlds. (And it really made me come around to the pairing.)

And another huge problem I had with Richonne is the same problem I have with Dickkory - people who ship them act like the entire show was created to drive the ship. And the shippers get really annoying because they act like all the other interesting characters and plot lines do not exist. They act like the producers and writers made the show as a vessel to carry the single ship when that is clearly not the case.

For Dickkory, people boil Dick and Rachel's entire relationship down to 'omg, she is Dickkory's child' - which is very annoying. And for Richhone, people act like Andrea just does not exist, when she pulled Michonne out of a very dark place - Rick did not do that. Michonne said so herself. Andrea is a very important character in Michonne's story.

Anyway - I do like Richonne a lot now. More than I ever expected I would

[lacrimosathedark]

Fuck it. I drew Hellaverse ocs for each "species". Might as well share em.

Standard Imp to start.

The horns are supposed to look kinda funny. The thicker stripes are splotchy cuz they're painted to be thicker, since females have thin stripes and males have thick stripes. Gender-affirming cosmetics. Nonbinary, so one of each!

Hellhound

Dalmatian because I was obsessed with dalmatians as a kid. Also very covered in spots lol. Outfit is very basic, basically Rantaro Amami.

Succubus

tbh very Conner Kent inspired because Conner gives me gender envy. That arm band is supposed to have the ace flag on it. I imagine the back of the jacket has stupid stitched print that's like "can't touch this" or something dumb like that lol. Collar bone piercings too cuz I used to think those were really cool for some reason. Top surgery scars because FUCK YEAH

"Loan Shark", or those sharky demons from Greed

I just threw shit at the wall on this one honestly. I love bone motifs but all the sharks have weird body types and it took forever to decide on a shape let alone an outfit that didn't look like a goth hipster. I love the braid though. When I was little my mom always braided my hair before I went swimming so it wouldn't tangle. And it looks like a fishy tail!

"Baphomet", or those goaty fiery Sloth demons

The only really fem one and also fucking gothic lolita because I'm a sucker for that shit, but the idea literally came from they have candle heads -> Litwick looks like emo hair.

They also look vaguely librarian-y don't they?

"Possessor", or those fishy demons from Envy like Glitz and Glam

I thought the "fishnet" thing was funny, sue me. Gave very shy vibes to me for some reason so...yeah

"Goetia", or whatever the fuck bird demons

YES IT'S A ROBIN SHUSH

Finally, Sinner

I didn't realize until after I drew it that it was basically the same concept as Husk (winged cat with heart motif). Oh well, Husk is my favorite after Lucifer so maybe it was subconscious.

They're a cheetah, for a lot of reasons. One, another animal I was obsessed with as a kid. They are also a big cat with a lot of domestic cat traits. They can't roar. They chirp. And they can purr. They are shy and quick to flee, known most for their speed. But they are also a wildcat so they could just as easily rip your throat out as run away. This dichotomy feels unpredictable and chaotic which, me.

The spots fit me in part because I'm covered in spots--acne scars, unhealed bug bites, benign moles, all over. I scar real easy. And their natural tear track marks felt fitting because, well, I'm kind of a crybaby. And it's actually the meaning of my username. Lacrimosa means weeping or tearful.

The wings are another avenue to flee, which is really the focus of the design, but it's also thin and bony because I like bone motifs and I thought it would suit them to look weaker.

The outfit is really I just like really big hoodies and I've found when I wear my most comfy shorts, it looks like I'm just wearing a hoodie. So they are wearing pants, the hoodie is just super big with fun floppy sleeves.

[knightcoree]

Incoming vent: cuz I'm a ball of stress rn

I'm trying for a job at the movies and the apps so confusing by the time I figure this shit out i do believe they will stop hiring RIP COME ONNN...

I need a job . But also something better than retail fuck retail I been working retail for years it sucksss and also, I been awake cuz idk? Adhd maybe? And just cleaning my room like a crazy person lol maybe I'm a nervous wreck I definitely am. I haven't been replying to stuff as quickly as usual cuz I been so stressed... I haven't had a job in a while cuz I been feeling... idk like I suck at everything so why try? I keep quitting or getting fired when will the cycle end.. ugh.. it's just very discouraging yah.. so I'm nervous I'll screw up this job too like the others..yah. part of the reason I haven't been even looking for a job in a while is that. Im glad my mom is being patient w me. Cuz my anxiety and depression gets the best of me at times. Those close to me know that too well... yahhh.. I get depressed and yah. Anxious too. It's bad sometimes. Real bad. I'm glad you guys are patient w my stupid ass too. Thank you. <3 I'm trying so hard to adult lol and to keep it together for you guys...I don't even drive yet I'm too scared.. im.. yah in trying to push myself more. I used to go to college too. Need to go back and get a REAL career one day. I do hope. That's a whole nother story..college.. I can't go til I get a grant.. cuz I lost my scholarship for quitting too many classes and 1 bitchy professor failing me cuz I'm too shy in class. Fuck them. Yah. Anyway. Yah. That's discouraging too so much to get nervous about. That asshole professor even threw away my paperwork stating I'm autistic and need help and I'm shy esc. All about my autism. I got the paper from my school counselor who told me to give the papers to my professors. But that 1 bitch prof. one threw it away right in front of me. Fuck em. Hate em so much. Theatre class was a waste of my time.yet I passed mythology class the professor for that LOVED me . So yah. Theatre guy was biased af. I also passed art. And that was HARD AF i had to take extra trips to get extra credit but i did it and prof loved me. Theatre guy was the only bitch who hated me. Like i even did extra credit trips for Theatre for them yet. Yah. Im unfavored apparently idk. should have reported them to the dean like everyone told me to. But i didn't like a dumbass lol. Now it's too late so rip. I'm going back eventually for zookeeping or voice acting cuz tbh choosing is hard. But ya I'll get a grant. I'm trying next year. I'm gonna try driving next year too. I'm pushing myself to adult.

-jax

[spectrearia]

double-tag time lol

got tagged in two different question things by @galactictides52 and @gonturan0 xD gonna fill both of 'em out at the same time I guess haha! thanks for the tags!!

going under a cut because there's quite a lot here haha

tagged by @galactictides52:

Last song I listened to: Follow by Survive Said the Prophet

Favorite content to watch: uhhh.. hm. depends on my mood. I usually gravitate towards let's plays or documentaries on a whole variety of topics? speedrunning, electronics, abandoned places, and critiques on a wide variety of media are some of my go-tos for documentary/commentary-style content. there's a lot more tho that I can't think of off the top of my head. I just like listening to people discuss random stuff haha.

Favorite games: Oooh, quite a few. Minecraft, Super Mario Sunshine, Luigi's Mansion, Professor Layton, Ace Attorney, Hitman (World of Assassination), and recently Hatsune Miku: Project Diva Mega Mix are some that immediately come to mind. There are so many more games I could add but I gotta keep this kinda simple xD

Favorite colors: I love all colors for various reasons but any shade of purple is my absolute fave <3

Favorite animal: CATS!!! though I'm sure that's pretty obvious, haha xD I can't help but relate to them so much lol

Favorite food: mmmm. maybe my mom's beef and potato hash? it's the ultimate comfort food to me and she doesn't make it often, but it always Hits Just Right whenever I do get to have it.

Sweet, spicy, or savory: savory all the way, baby. don't mind a bit of spice alongside the savory sometimes but it depends on what it is.

Current obsession: my own OCs (and some friends' OCs as well). I literally talk about them all the time and I could say I'm sorry but I'm really not. xD if we're talking media in general tho? I guess the Hatsune Miku game I mentioned earlier counts, lol

Last book I read: oof. I can't even remember. for published books, I want to say it was Mayday at Two Thousand Five Hundred by Frank E. Peretti? but if not, then it was probably my friend's original story draft. I hardly ever read anymore, honestly. I just write what I want to read instead.

Last thing I googled: don't use google, per se. but I think the last thing I searched online was the lyrics to King by Kanaria because I want to learn how to sing along lol

Fun facts: I always suck at these haha. can't really think of anything so I might just have to leave this as-is, rip ><;;

---

tagged by @gonturan0:

3 ships: lol I don't do ships so I don't have much to put here xD I guess I kinda "shipped" some characters when I was younger (like Mario and Peach or whatever), but not? to an extreme degree or anything? was never my focus. still isn't. Honorable mention does go out to Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable, though. I felt their relationship was handled really well, even though I typically really don't like romance in kids' media at all.

first ever ship: idk probably Mickey and Minnie when I was like 5??? haha

last song: (see #1 in previous list)

Last movie: oof, memory is bad. it's been a while. the Mario movie???? in theaters??? i think. I can't remember. I don't watch movies as often as I used to tbh

currently reading: nothing right now, unless you count this list ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

currently watching: not "currently" but I'll probably watch the newest update of a Voices of the Void let's play that I'm keeping up with sometime later tonight :0

currently consuming: waterrr. stay hydrated, my dudes~

currently craving: sushi;;; specifically my Fave Big Roll with shrimp tempura, crab, cucumber, and a bunch of other good stuff (also SPICY MAYO, my beloved) <33

ayyyy, that's all, folks! I don't really know who to tag with this so i guess if anyone sees it and wants to fill it out, u can just say I tagged you xD I don't mind, haha!

[knowlessman]

the continuing adventures of gamzee homestuck and friends, uh… continue! (bnha s5e6-e11)

"be careful, young deku, your next fight is with shinso -" me, completely ignoring the plot relevance with one for all and whatnot: HELLYEAH -- bakugo: "hurry up and master that quirk so we can fight again! I've no patience for weak pokemon" or something. point being, big gold/silver rival vibes. pointbeingfuckbakugo

(iida's turn next) still kinda wished he'd gone with Emergency Exit. I forget if he went with Recipro, or if that's just what he calls his moves and he went with Ingenium for the hero name -- iida: "I was third place at the sports festival!" 'XDDDD that bit with hatsume's still funny whenever I think about it

I have absolutely no idea who Tetsutetsu's teammates are but this is fascinating

"kaibara's rotation is a technique where -- (granted, that's only funny to me) -- why is he also spinning his feet, tho? he'd just drill into the ground doing that. I guess it gives him an option if he wants to change lateral direction in a hurry

so… iida's mufflers are… teeth? the adult ones push the baby mufflers out? idfk go figure

but yeah, mudman's kinda neat

I thought fire was sposed to, y'know, melt metal. Also I'm pretty sure sudden temperature changes fuck it right up regardless.

beats me what Ojiro's done different that repels all the mud, but I guess I'm glad he got something else going for him. heck, even hagukure unlocked that flashbang move of hers; Tailman seems like he'd have a hard time not falling behind.

kinda surprised the show didn't punish Mudman for running away from a losing battle tbh

'XD poor todoroki suddenly sucked up all the flames and turned em into some kinda Spirit Bomb, then got a clonk on the head for his trouble

iida: "rescue is my first priority!" EMERGENCY. EXIT.

"it was a huge mistake leaving iida for later" god. dammit. show. what was he sposed to do, grab his ankles so goddamn sonic the speed demon could rip his arms off? -- ohhh, mudman is the guy who looks like a Bleach hollow. huh.

pony or whatever horn girl's name is: "I'll go higher than he can reach and see what happens" I mean. shoji's arms have kinda looked a bit like wings to me from the start… I dunno what I wanna bet that he can flap them hard enough to get lift, but I dunno if I'd bet much against it either -- not to tell on myself too much, but this is a real "me" strategy. I always find myself in positions where my only move is to put off losing in the hopes that a better idea shows up. one rarely does. (granted, I'm mostly thinking about MtG, and I guess I've gotten a bit better, but "more time for thinking" is still my first priority in most situations) -- (timer buzzed, is a draw) Shishida: "in a real fight, running away and waiting for rescue is a reasonable option." make up your damn mind show, are you American or a filthy commie

pretty sure iida had plenty of space to veer to the side and avoid the falling thingy, just saying

hmm, we got dark souls helmet and some random dark-haired girl they're hyping up vs bakugo and headphone jack. are they gonna play this one out as well, even tho the only lead in it is bakugo?

bakugo continues to do bakugo things, ie be an abusive liability on purpose and probably not get punished for it -- "I've gotten stronger too! I've figured out that I can use people as stepping stones, and it works better than only seeing them as obstacles! next I'll advance to realizing they have feelings, and can therefore be used as tools!"

"with unexpected teamwork (read, any teamwork at all), bakugo's team wins!" -- the annoying thing is, he still consistently acts like (and says, often explicitly) he's the only person who matters. nothing about bakugo's attitude or actions feels reconcilable with a person who could strategize in ways that allow their teammates to do anything, or even account for their presence. hell, seeing bakugo show capacity to strategize at all still feels weird. we saw him hand out those grenades to his teammates - people he constantly refers to as extras, people whose names he refuses to use - as if he thought they were competent enough, or worthy enough, to use them. bakugo gets the benefits of a mindset he is clearly portrayed as not having. -- bakugo is an rpg character whose player is a powergamer. the player is rp'ing as an abuser who can't see potential or worth in other people, and is also completely ignoring bakugo's personality whenever it would lead to suboptimal choices in combat. (does it count as an AU if it's literally the only possible explanation)

all might: "you have a good childhood friend" fuck off. one of the first things we saw bakugo do in this show was tell someone to kill themself and he hasn't improved in five seasons and two movies.

I would think team B would be talking more about who all they'll have Monoma copy. the character is aggravating to watch, but his ability ought to be affecting how people talk about matchups more. can't he copy enemies' quirks just as easily as allies'?

okay monoma's proving to be a bit of a nonbo with shinso's quirk. gonna be hard to get somebody to "answer" you if you never shut up long enough for them to do so.

hm. them black band thingies, I think they're called. -- ah, I was right about the adding in other peoples' quirks to one for all. …I think. pretty sure. six more though??? 'XD damn

you'd kinda think the teachers would have some way of communicating to the students whether a match was canceled when something unexpected happened. seemed to be like nobody was sure if that would be the case, then one person threw a punch and they're just all back in it again. not a very well-controlled situation, for a training exercise.

also… welp. guess I'm going five episodes in. gotta wrap this match up, eh? least I started earlier this time, and somehow got through the first few a bit faster than usual.

yeah yeah mineta, you're a garbage character with a deceptively-cool quirk, now kindly fuck off and let the likable characters back onscreen

eraserhead, apparently: "well, your quirk, like mine, is one that either ends a fight immediately or does nothing at all, so I guess you qualify for Remedial Spider-Man Training. we can't have you going out there without at least this"

k plotline wrapped, I can give it a rest now 'XD now I know shinso should be sticking around, or at least added to class B. these tournament arcs seem to go on forever sometimes but… new powers. strategies. character development at the same time (fine, fake/"informed" character development in bakugo's case). this is my shit.

[thebackseatofjimsblazer]

Pairing: Hopper x F!Reader

Rating: E — MINORS!DNI

CW & WC: 3.6k — more alcohol but y’all ain’t drunk. SMUT! Oral (f and m receiving) unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms. You call hopper an old man to tease him and it works in your favor lmao. Dirty talk but like i think its kinda cute tbh. Oh yeah, and aftercare!

Summary: Jim takes to you back to his place and shows you what being with a MAN is like.

Part 1

The car ride to Jim’s trailer was short and silent. The only thoughts that monopolized your brain were how Jim’s arms felt when he helped you into his truck and how they looked when he drove. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him from your spot, allowing yourself to drink up the way his thigh flexed when he switched between the brake and the throttle. Minuscule movements on his part seemed more intoxicating than your rum and coke from earlier. When Jim had opened the door to his trailer for you to enter before him, you remembered how you were supposed to give Robin a ring.

“Can I use your landline to call my roommate? I don’t want her to worry about me,” You look at Jim, awaiting a response. He simply nods to the phone on a wall close to the kitchen area. Giving a smile to him, you walk over and punch in the numbers.

“Hey Rob, I’m safe and at a guy’s house. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” You say in a hushed tone, not wanting Jim to hear the last part. You couldn’t spot him from where you were standing, he had disappeared into the back of the trailer where you presumed his room was at. Robin lets out a breathy chuckle before responding. 

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

With that, you put the phone back on the receiver and turned to take in your surroundings. It wasn’t much of a shower; wood paneling on the walls and plain furniture filled the dining area and the living room from what you saw. It smelled of old, burnt coffee and cigarettes. For one reason or another, it made sense for Jim. Speaking of, you could hear his footsteps coming out from the room he was in. 

“So,” he claps his hands before continuing, “What d’ya say I pour us another drink and we get back to our conversation?” He sauntered his way into the kitchen, rubbing his hands together. Smiling and nodding in approval, you sit at the table as he grabs some glasses.

Some time goes on and the conversation becomes lively, the both of you laughing until gasping as you recall a past experience to him.

“I seriously thought he would get better or- or at least try to get to know my body better after the first couple of times,” You shook your head, trying to calm your laughter before continuing your rant, “But he never did! Never once did he ask me what got me off. Just shit like ‘Ah yeah, you like that baby?’. I should have ripped the bandaid off a long time ago.” You said, mocking Jason’s voice as Jim laughed. 

“So what do you like?” He finally asks, getting to the point of actually picking up where you two had left off. Your breath caught in your throat; Jim’s gaze honed in on your eyes. You pondered for a few seconds about where to start.

“I think I just want someone who isn’t afraid to be romantic… caring and soft at points but definitely strong and passionate,” You look down at your glass and bite your lip, thinking about how strong Jim’s hands had looked when he was protecting you from Jason. “I know I want a partner that is patient with learning my body. At least enough to know I won’t cum from less than ten minutes of jack hammering and hip spasms,” you finish off with a chuckle and a roll of your eyes. You look back to Jim and see that he’s still looking into your eyes, except now he had something darker behind his. 

“Would you be willing to let me try?” He asks, but before you could answer, he’s interrupting you, “And before you answer, just give it a thought. I want to explore every part of your beautiful body, explore every dip and curve you have even if you never want to do it again… even if it's just for tonight. Hell, if you don’t want to do it at all, I’ll drive you home right now with no hesitation and no animosity towards you. I know I’m older, but Goddammit, I want this and I really think you want this too,” 

He reaches out and grabs your hand from the table, “If I read into it wrong, then tell me. But I have a feeling that you liked it when I pushed Jason away from you… and I know you liked our little conversation when we were leaving the bar,” he smirked at the memory. You weren’t aware of this, but Jim loved the way your skin erupted in goosebumps when he had stepped in closer to your proximity outside the bar. He wanted to do that to you again tonight. 

Your brain frizzled and frazzled at his words; your mind immediately running to how his strong body could cage you in his bed. Heat rushed from your neck to the tips of your ears. You nod your head, “You’re pretty spot on.”

“I know, I am sweetheart… but this is all up to you,” his thumb ran circles over the top of your hand. It felt encouraging and comforting, letting you relax fully. 

“Well then, if its all up to me, I’d really,” You say, getting up from your seat to walk over to the side of the table that Jim was sitting at. Leaning down so that your lips brushed the shell of his ear, you continued in a whisper, “like for you to have me.” 

Jim quickly stood up from his seat, the legs of the chair making a screeching sound against the floor. Looking down at you, Jim finally let go of your hand to slip them around your face. 

“If I do anything, and I mean anything, that you don’t like… I want you to speak up. Too slow? Tell me. Not slow enough? Tell me. You got it, doll?” He asks, punctuating his final question by slightly shaking your head. You nod, lost at how domineering he felt in the moment. You always knew that people could be dominant, but never knew that they could feel soft at the same time. 

Jim lent down slowly and took your lips in his hesitantly, waiting for you to respond more to his touches before he gave more to you. Within seconds, one of your hands met the top of one of his and your other was gripping his shirt. Humming into his kiss, you began to kiss back with passion. He tasted like whiskey and his mustache scratched at your upper lip, but you soon found it to be more enjoyable than you had anticipated. 

“Your mustache,” you moaned against his lips, gripping his shirt harder.

Jim withdrew from you momentarily with a worried look on his face, “You hate it, don’t you?” He asks solemnly. “I can go sha-“

“No! I love it,” you say, pulling him back to kiss him with fervor. Jim grabs you by your hips and pushes you so that you were pinned between him and his kitchen counters. His lips found a new area to explore, trailing from your jaw down to your neck, making you whimper lightly into his ear.

Placing open mouthed up your neck to your ear, he whispered, “If you like how it feels now, just wait until it's between your thighs.”

A new wave of heat rushed to your core at the prospect of Jim’s face between your legs, making a sopping mess of your sweet cunt. His strong calloused hands had begun to pull you away from the kitchen counter and began to herd you to the direction of his room, yet his expert lips never stopped littering your neck with kisses. Pushing you until the back of your legs hit the edge of his bed, Jim physically directed you to sit. 

“Let me see you, baby,” he said as he used his strong hands to pry your legs apart. A gruff moan escaped his chest when he saw your pastel purple panties, almost becoming drunk from just looking at you. He leant down and began kissing you over your panties, rolling his eyes at your scent. “Absolutely heavenly…” 

You moan his name, letting your head roll back as he kisses your clothed clit. You could feel the edges of his mustache tickle your thighs as you began to buck onto his mouth. “Please Jim, I- ah- I need your mouth.” You grip the bed sheets with all of your strength, growing impatient with Jim. You’ve never wanted someone so bad in your life. Slowly, without any words, Jim began to pull your panties down your legs. Your glistening cunt was on display for him as he ran a finger up from your hole to your clit, dragging your wetness up with it. 

“Has anyone eaten you out before?” He asks, looking up at you from his seat on the floor. You nod your head quickly, wanting him to get on with it. “And were they any good?” You then shake your head no, being truthful with him. Using two fingers to collect your wetness, he asks you another question, “What did they do that wasn’t good?”

“They weren’t,” you go to answer him, but you couldn’t help but let out a moan when he ran his two fingers over your clit with ample pressure. Your eyebrows knit together in pleasure as he slowly, but firmly, swiped his fingers side to side on your nub. 

“Come on, doll. How am I supposed to know what makes you feel good if you can’t answer my question?” He teases, slowing down his movements so that you can refocus. You watch as he brings his fingers from your pussy to his mouth, licking up your juices.

You let out a huff before finishing your answer, “They weren’t into it.” You bite your lip as you wait for Jim to respond.

“That’s what distinguishes boys and men, darling. Because if I’m going to be honest with you,” he says, giving your cunt a testing lick, “I’m going to absolutely devour you.” And with that, Jim lent his head down all the way until his whole mouth was able to surround your pussy. His tongue darted between your lips to push into your hole, then dragged up to your clit. 

Immediately, your body fell back and your hands found purchase in Jim’s hair. Shocks of pleasure shoot through your legs, threatening to clamp themselves around his head. Each lap his tongue makes around your clit draws a moan from your lips, “Fuck, Jim- ah- you feel so good.”

You quickly sit up to protest when you feel him remove his mouth, but he cuts in before you can. “Get up and take off that dress. I want you bare.” Jim also stands with you and begins to remove his own clothes. Once both of your clothes are thrown to different corners, he grabs you by the hips and directs you to kneel in the middle of the bed.

Your patience begins to wear thin again, not understanding what it is Jim is trying to accomplish now. “Jim, at least tell me what’s happening.”

“I’m going to crawl up the bed so that you’re sitting on my face,” He says as he does exactly what he said he would. When his face is directly under you, he says, “it’s up to you if you wanna help me out, but I’m not done with this sweet pussy.” His lips were back on your clit like before, continuing the perfect pattern and rhythm he had set earlier. It’s then that you fully realize that Jim’s hard cock was out and waiting for you. 

Using every ounce of focus you could muster, you lent your body down so that his cock was level with your face. Jim had to move his hands from your ass to your thighs to counter the shift in your balance, but not once did he break away from your heat. You quickly began to lose focus, only thinking of how strong his large hands felt on your legs and his skilled tongue darting between your button and slick hole. Pleasure was filling your whole body and loud moans left your lips as you quickly began to feel your climax approach. 

“Oh shit, please don’t stop-“ you pant, breaths fanning over his reddened tip. Jim grunts in response, speeding up his efforts. And stop, this man didn’t. Long forgotten, his cock bobbed against his underbelly from the strong breaths he was taking. Almost in an instant, the band in you began to snap when his head began to shake from side to side; tongue staying on your clit as he ate you out ravenously. With one final breath before slumping over his body, you let out a scream, “Oh, fuck!”

You could feel the way he chuckled from underneath you; his cock bouncing a bit from the action to tap against your cheek from how you were slumped over. 

“Doll, how you feelin’? Can you roll off for me?” He asked, lovingly spreading his hands over both of your ass cheeks, massaging as he went. You? Well you were trying to get over that orgasm; muscles spamming in your legs like a car after driving on a really hot day. You hummed and grunted, lazily asking him in a way to just give you a minute. This caused another chuckle to leave his chest, but his breath was quickly caught in his throat when you decided it was time to put his cock in yours.

Without warning, you grabbed him by his thick base and swallowed him down until you were about half way to his tuft of hair, not letting him adjust to the new feeling. With each new bob, each new swipe of your tongue across his slit that produced a drop of pre just for you, you felt his hands tighten and then relax against the globes of your ass. His moans filled the room, along with the obscene and filthy sounds of your mouth on him.

“Darlin’…” he moans out before he continues his warning, “you keep workin’ me like that and this is going to be over before either one of us wants.” You move your head to look over your shoulder at him, slowing your hand down to languid jerks to keep him satisfied. 

“Awe, c’mon old man,” you joke, giving Jim a playful smirk. His eyes roll and a grutal moan reverberates off the walls when you squeeze your hand at the base and move it all the way to his red and leaking tip. “Don’t tell me you’re almost done. My cunt hasn’t been stretched by your thick, mature cock.” You giggle when you see his face turn beet red, knowing that your dirty words back at the bar struck something in him now. 

Before you knew it, Jim had pulled you off of him and held you down into the bed; one of his strong hands pinning yours above your head and the other resting against his headboard. 

“First of all, babe,” he began, pushing your legs wide with his own. “I may be an old man, but I know you’re not going to complain.” His hand that was on the headboard came doing, brushing against your perked nipples and down to your clit. A gasp forced its way out when he swirled his strong and confident fingers against it. “Second of all, I was waiting for the moment that mouth of yours was gonna act up. You’re lucky I didn’t use it for something better,” he grits. His hand leaves your mound and moves to his length, stroking it before lining it up with your slit. “And lastly…” 

There was a pause in his tone, but he didn’t continue talking. Instead, he slowly pushed himself all the way in until his hips were flush to yours. 

And a stretch he was indeed.

You had never felt anything like him before. The underside of his length felt smooth and seemed to just want to glide right in. However the top side had a thick vein and his tip was more bulbous cause it to find that spongy little button inside you rather quickly. Sitting fully inside you, it felt like you had no room to breathe; Jim was breathtaking. 

What you hadn’t realized in your cock-daze was that Jim felt the exact same way. The way your wet, warm pussy clenched around him made his brain fuzzy and his chest tighten. He didn’t want you to know — at least not yet — that feeling your pulse in your pussy was making him closer to his peak than he had anticipated, so he used the hand that wasn't holding yours to swipe at your clit.

“How’s that feel, darlin’?” He asks, face scrunching to concentrate on giving rather than how you felt. 

“Please, Jim,” you beg, hips gyrating to create some type of friction. “Please make me cum again. I need you to cum in me.”

Hearing that made Jim feel like the rest of the air in his lungs had beaten out of him. Huffing, he let go of your hands and caged you onto the bed. Your hands move and snake their way around his neck, gripping onto his shoulders. His breath, let out in hearty pants, warmed your ears.

“Babydoll, you can’t say things like that to me if you want me to last,” he said, holding your whole body down as he began to slowly pull himself out. “You ready?”

You give him a hum, gripping tighter onto his shoulders. You were as ready as you were ever going to be; pussy juices slowly trickling down onto the sheets below you and matting down the hairs on his heavy balls. 

He started out with slow and thorough thrusts before he began driving himself into you. Animalistic groans were hushed when he latched his mouth to your neck, sucking on the open expanse and leaving a red mark behind. 

“You’re so—“ Jim was at a loss for words when it came to how you made his cock feel. Sitting back on his haunches, he grabbed your legs and brought your knees to your chest. “God, your pussy is just heavenly.” He grunted, head flying back as his eyes shut. One of your hands reaches up to scratch up his chest while the other one snakes down to play with your clit. You were close and eager to get there with him. 

“Jim, I wanna cum,” you moan, doing your best to give intentional circles at your clit. But it just wasn’t doing it. You needed him. “Help me cum, please.” You begged, eyebrows scrunched together to lay it on thick for him. The way you begged for him made his mind swirl. His hand swats yours away and quickly replaces it, giving you what you needed to fall over the edge of your orgasm.

“Let it out darlin’… come on,” he encouraged, speeding up his thrusts to chase his own undoing. The loud wet squelching of your dripping cunt, along with the feeling of you pulsing around his cock, was what made Jim come undone. With a loud moan and a shuddering breathing pattern, Jim fell back down against your body and held you there as he unloaded himself into you. Knowing that he was cumming, you intentionally clenched around him to milk him some more. This caused a whine — a fucking whine — to leave his throat.

Jim soon rolled over to lay next to you, pulling you into his chest. There was sweat all over both of your skins, beginning to feel sticky as the both of you slowly caught your breath. After a beat, Jim got up and went into the bathroom. You heard him rummaging around in there for a few minutes before he reamurged and slowly made his way over to you again. 

“Woah, Jim,” you began with a chuckle. “I didn’t know that this whole thing would include cuddles and a warm washcloth.” You were joking… kind of. This was around the time that goodbyes would be said and either one of you would be on your merry way. But not with Jim. You tried to reach out to grab the cloth from him, but he pulled it away from your grasp and motioned for you to lay back down. 

“Cuddles, a warm washcloth that I use to clean you up, and even breakfast in the morning if you want.” He offers, smiling at you before he leans down and kisses your forehead. He threw the washcloth into his laundry hamper that sat in the corner near his door after he wiped away at your sensitive hole. 

“And breakfast?” You ask, reaching out to grab him. You pulled him close to you, your arms wrapping around his neck again as he hovered over your body. Resting his face in the crook of your neck, he leaves open mouth smooches as he hums in agreement. “Can we have bacon and french toast?” You ask, giggling as he rolled the two of you over so that you were now laying on top of him. 

“Anything you want darlin’,” he says, holding you tighter against his frame and searching your eyes. “Anything you want.” He finalizes his words with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick pull of the string of his lamp next to his bed. 

Jim’s strong arms hold you until you fall asleep that night. And they hold you until you fall asleep the next night, and the next, and the next. Who would have thought that Jason Carver would be the reason you found Jim Hopper. But you thank the heavens above and below that you were led to him.

[himbo-in-limbo]

Holi :3

Hope ur taking care out there bro dont forget to hydrate!!!

So for the latest ask game how about 👍&👎?

Thanks man!!! I hope your doing the same girl 🥰

I'mma answer both cuz why not LMAO

👍:

Aside from yautjas being my childhood heros, what I love most and what is my favorite thing about yautjas is their passion! Their pure dedication to the hunt!

Honestly there's so many things I love about them that it's hard to pinpoint one thing but ultimately that's a big reason for me 💕

👎:

Now this is hard cuz I'm biased as hell...

But if I WERE to pick at something it's the fact that most (maybe less who knows) do in fact see humans as inferior beings (some view us like cattle tbh) like ngl I get it their aliens and more advanced than us (sure some humans get a pass when they deem themselves worthy!) But again not all do :/

A prime example of this is how Machiko Nagochi was treated when she was living with yautja (BUT AGAIN THE YAUTJAS ARE VERY CUT THROAT)

Anyways they definitely gave her the cold shoulder more cuz she was human

Buuut she got her free pass from a leader that they didn't like so that also didn't help (RIP DACHANDE 😭♥️) again I'm rly biased so i actually never thought about that if there was something I DIDN'T like about em (maybe I'm just not remembering) but I rly can't think of anything 😅

[sapphicscholar]

For the fandom asks…this is going to be an out-of-nowhere choice…Hacks! Haha. And also feel free to answer these for any other fandom you’d like! I love reading stuff like this. :)

Heheh thank ya thank ya!

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: Deborah Vance

Least Favorite character: narrative-wise, the mayor (she just doesn't add anything even if she's fun! sorry jo!)

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Ava/Deborah, Ava/Ruby, Deborah/Susan - anything else is mostly just a "yeah I could see this one night stand being a blast!" (e.g., Deborah/her psychic or Janet; Ava/Weed)

Character I find most attractive: Deborah

Character I would marry: tbh Ruby! Love writing about Ava and Deborah but couldn't be paid to marry either of 'em!

Character I would be best friends with: Wilson - we can go rock climbing together :)

a random thought: one day I'll get back to my fic writing...

An unpopular opinion: SO MANY but we'll stick with thinking Ava and Ruby could work out in the future now that Ava has grown as a person (and now that Ruby has seen that growth outside of the context of a romantic relationship, which I think is really important to internalizing it as a real, self-driven, lasting change)

My Canon OTP: I don't think there actually ARE any canon ships at the moment?? which is kind of amazing! Love that for them

My Non-canon OTP: Ava/Deborah

Most Badass Character: Deborah - it takes a LOT to come back from all the shit she went through and claw her way back into a life she could be proud of (and then to do it again with Ava)

Most Epic Villain: "death, taxes, and that fucking guy"

Pairing I am not a fan of: Deborah/Marty (though I actually can understand what it is that draws them to each other)

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): season 2 Ava! RIP my brash asshole (it was a writing choice I could have understood if they'd made Deborah angrier about the email or really nailed down the consequences - some reason for having Ava be so cowed; instead she went from cowed to just friends with Deborah without much narrative clarity, and a lot of what made Ava such a fun spitfire to write and see sparking against Deborah fell to the wayside)

Favourite Friendship: I like the idea of Marcus and Wilson being friends! I hope they get to enjoy that space together :)

Character I most identify with: Marcus

Character I wish I could be: I could use more of Josefina's vibes in my life tbh

[dru-plays-starbound]

I don't know if it still works right or not but there's a mod called Critter Capture Revamped that lets you keep critters as pets! Also for the ask game: Snow, Tundra, Decayed, and Midnight?

Howdy Anon,

Mmm, I think I've looked at that one before. Most older mods are still okay with the Bounty Hunter version - I may need to check it out again. Thanks for the tip!

Snow - Which is your favourite furniture set?

I think I'm gonna have to go with Cabin with a side of Kitchen (because I think they complementary). They're cozy and relaxing to arrange, and easy on the eye. I think I've used the stool table in so many builds.

Tundra - Which furniture set do you wish had more items?

Bioluminescence! I hate the table bring green and not purple/ orange like the rest, and there's no door?? Fenerox & Shadow stuff! Basically all the NP Races...

Decayed - Which is your favourite unique or craftable weapon?

Asuterosaberu DX!

It's rainbow, it sparkles, and lets you rip a hole in space-time. What's not to love ^.^

Midnight - How do you feel about the mini games (fossil hunting, fishing) - love 'em or loathe 'em?

I'm not a fan TBH. Once I figured it out, the fishing one is a bit easier, but I loathe the fossil game. It feels needlessly complicated? Or maybe it's only good if you have good spatial reasoning? IDK, I just find it a bit too much of a challenge. But I also want my perfect game so, I guess I'll have to keep persevering (unless anyone has any tips?).

Thanks for the questions! Happy Starbounding 🌠

[no-droids]

The Sun on Both Sides

Summary: Cassian Andor is your very close companion.  He says best friend, you say pain in your ass—neither one of you are entirely wrong.  But then one night you smoke some unfamiliar spice with him, and everything you once thought you knew goes sideways.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cassian Andor/fem!Reader

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: SMUT, sex pollen (therefore DUB-CON by default), recreational drug use, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, dirty talk, oral sex (both male and female receiving), penetrative sex, me just making so much shit up honestly

A/N: All phrases in Festan are taken from other Star Wars conlangs.  I don’t even know if that’s the name of the language people from Fest speak tbh.  Probably not.  None of this is real.  Anyways this is Cassian as a young rebel pilot long before the events of Rogue One.  This oneshot will likely be deemed obsolete by Cassian’s new Disney+ show but whoooooooops~

—knock knock knock knock knock—

You know that knock.  It’s too quick, too rapid and annoying to be anyone else.

“I’m sleeping,” you huff with your mouth full, sitting on top of your mattress in a hoodie and sweatpants, legs crossed.

“I have gifts,” Cassian’s muffled voice asserts from the other side of the door.

“I don’t care,” you return, swallowing and shoveling more slop together with your tiny little biodegradable spork.  “S’the middle of the night.”

—knock knock knock knock knock—

“Stop it.”

“Knock knock,” he beckons vocally, as if you didn’t hear it the first ten times.  “Come, open the door.  Please—I will get into trouble.”

It’s exhausting being Cassian’s friend.  Truly exhausting.  It doesn’t matter what Maker-forsaken time it is, as soon as he comes back to base from patrols, he’s at your door.  You don’t know why he chose you as his sole victim to personally inflict this torture upon, but regardless of reason, he’s called you his close friend ever since you first offered to help the lanky, dark-haired six year old with his Basic and his best friend ever since your junior year of flight training.  Apparently with the promotion came the lingering, severe misfortune of his present company, almost always.

“Can I put in for a transfer?”  He also technically outranks you.

“Open the door and we will talk,” Cassian bargains.  Bantha shit, you and him both know it.  He’ll rip the papers in half before you can even finish filling them out.

You let out a dramatic groan just loud enough for him to hear, dragging yourself off the bed and padding over to the door.  “If I accept your gift, will you leave?”

“Maybe.”  No.

“If I accept your gift and trade it for the rest of this, uh,” you look at the MRE packet in your hands, “rice and shredded tauntaun meat in glockaw sauce, will you leave?”

“Maybe.”  No.

“Good call, not as great as it sounds.  What if I—”

He says your name impatiently, accented and sharp.  You roll your eyes as his knuckles rap on the door once more.  “Quickly, quickly—before someone sees.”

“It’s the residential quarters and it’s two in the fucking morning, Cass, nobody’s going t—”

He cuts you off once more.  “Open the door and I will submit for your transfer work, yes?”

You throw your spork prong-down into the beige pouch in your hands and pop your hip, narrowing your eyebrows at the thick slab of metal separating the two of you skeptically.  “No, you won’t.”

“No, I will not,” the voice behind it concedes immediately.  “But for you, I will pretend.”

As soon as you the door slides open and disappears up into the ceiling with a quiet shhhft sound, his dark silhouette quickly slips past you and sneaks into your room, immediately bouncing his bony little butt down on top of your sizable but thin box-spring mattress without a word.  You press the button to close the door behind him with a long, drawn out sigh, turning around and resting your back against the wall panel.

Cassian meets your tired, expectant gaze head-on and wide awake, perched on your bed and huddled around something hidden in his thick jacket.  “First.  You cannot tell anyone.  Understand?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.  “Are we children, Cass?”

“Secondly.”  He blinks up at you.  Maker, his eyes are so… wide.  Dark and warm and bright, framed with thick, long lashes.  “If you do not want it, just say.  Okay?”

Your expression suddenly narrows.  This is new.  It’s… still bantha shit, but it’s… new.  New bantha shit.

“Because the word ‘no’ holds so much meaning for you,” you tilt your head to gesture at the door to your right, “clearly.”

“Come.  Sit here,” he ignores you, patting the space next to him as if that isn’t your own fucking bed he’s inviting you to join him on.  “We will look together.”

“I will literally murder you,” you tell him genuinely, though you push off the wall to move toward him all the same.  “If that’s not a cute little mini-lothcat in your arms you got me for my birthday, Andor, I will literally murder you.”

“Today is your birthday?”  He glances up at you in surprise just as you’re lowering yourself down onto the mattress next to him.

“Two weeks ago, but you were off-base.”  You dig around inside the pouch for your handy little spork, not looking at him.  “Quit avoiding the subject, my death threat still stands.  Where’s my cat, asshole?  Who do I have to tolerate in my bed this late at night to push that kind of paperwor—oof—”

The second you catch the hard little end piece of it between your fingers is the second he reaches around you and pulls you into a tight, one-armed hug.  You fumble with the packet of food as you’re abruptly jerked forward, trying not to let it get squished it between you.

Stars, he smells good.  His parka smells just like him, the fur lining its hood so warm and fluffy and soft as it tickles your nose.  It’s still slightly damp from the wet sleet outside, but it smells so good.  The smallest undercurrent of clove and spice hidden beneath the sharp, clean scent of fresh snow.

“Happy Year-Over, caraya,” Cassian says next to your ear, quiet and fond.  “I know it is late, but I have your gift now.”

“‘Caraya’ better be Festan for ‘here’s your cute little lothcat, birthday girl’,” you warn him, moving to rest your chin on top of his padded shoulder and trying not to sound as breathless or affected by his sweet talking as you feel.  He’s never called you that before.  Caraya.  What does it mean?

It’s… it’s bantha shit, you remind yourself, trying not to close your eyes or lean into his half-embrace.  It’s all bantha shit.

“No,” Cassian acknowledges with a small head tilt, pulling his shoulder back but still keeping his long arm wrapped tight around you.  “No.  Not a… a cat, but…”  He slowly opens his other hand between the two of you, finally showing you.

You blink down at the thing in his palm, cradled carefully in thick gloves from the sub-zero temperatures outside.  It’s.  No, he’s right, it’s not a cat.  It’s a… a stick.  Reddish-pink, ground up plant matter wrapped in a semi-transparent binding.  Rolled up in a nice, even cylinder, a filter secured around one of its ends.

Spice.  Hand-rolled.  Expensive.  Probably swiped off a supply raid, whether by Cassian himself or another rebel fighter he bought it off of.  Ludicrous he got his hands on it, much less brought it on base.  Here, to your fucking quarters.

“I was wrong,” you eventually say, taking the joint from his open palm and holding it up to examine its strange color in the dim light.  “You don’t think we’re children.  You think we’re teenagers.”

“I think we are adults,” he corrects, swiping the MRE from your other hand, “with a reason to celebrate.”  He releases you and takes his arm back, sitting on your bed and digging two fingers around in your half-finished packet for your spork.

“You’re a bold pilot, Cass,” you tell him, studying the spice.  You’ve never seen any strain even similar to this before.  “It was one thing to do this during flight training, but now?  What happens if we have a piss test tomorrow?  Or, well—today, actually?”

“Different kind from before.”  He doesn’t sound bothered by the thought, though his mouth is currently full of tauntaun and rice in glockaw sauce.  “Only five hours high, not detectable after.  Piss tests are expensive, the rebellion has no money.”

“X-wings are expensive, too,” you counter, turning to look at him.  “You crash one of ‘em ‘cause you smoked this shit and your ass will be dead before you can even survive.”

“You hurt me.”  He uses the utensil to dig around the bottom corners of the packet for more slop, not looking hurt in the least.  “Also—you were right.  This one is… horrible.”

“Not to mention I have a oh-nine-hundred call.”  You both watch each other with matching looks of distaste as he continues to eat your food, clearly neither one of you enjoying it.  “You’re giving me barely two hours to come down before I got orange jumpsuits crawling all over me.”

“You did not hear?”  Cassian swallows.  “Reassigned Dreis during debriefing.  I will be leading red squadron tomorrow.  Or, today.”

You blink at him.  “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he shakes his head exactly once, throwing the spork into the empty packet and flattening it.  “No, I would not do that to you.”

“Course not,” you agree diplomatically.  “You’d just barge into my room at two in the morning, eat my food, offer me drugs, and then tell me I’ll be taking orders from you tomorrow.”

”Today,” he corrects.  “But I could not get our call changed, and for that I am sorry.”  He lifts an eyebrow at you, quirking the side of his mouth up and pushing the empty MRE pouch into your hands to throw away.  “But only for that.  Happy birthday?”

“We’re going to lose this war,” you tell him honestly, sliding off your mattress with a sigh to trash it.  “We’re all going to die horribly, and painfully.  The Rebellion is fucking doomed.  You and I will be but a mere footnote in the Empire’s endless reign of terror, you realize.  A footnote.  Our names at the very, very bottom of the page, in tiny little six point font, and it’ll link to a one sentence obituary for the both of us.  Died horribly and in pain.  Did you bring a lighter?”

“Here,” Cassian shifts to one buttcheek and pulls an arc lighter from his back pocket, offering it to you when you come back.  “Okay?  You will start it then?  Birthday girl.”

“You said five hours for one person, right?  So that’s two and a half each if we split it,” you reason with a shrug, putting the filter to your lips and talking through the side of your mouth.  “Two o’clock right now, nine-hundred call.  At least four hours to come down, and thirty minutes to shower if we’re both lucky.”

“We will be fine.”  He waves your careful calculations away with his hand as you flick the lighter.  “Because we are lucky feetnotes, yes?”

***

You’re not fine.

It’s fucking boiling in here.  Maker, you’re on fucking Hoth; why the fuck are you boiling?  It’s never even been warm in your quarters before, much less this hot.  You feel like you’re sweating buckets through your hoodie, your hair sticking to your neck in thin little curls.

And… and Cassian.

He’s sitting so unbelievably straight on the bed across from you, parka and gloves long abandoned on the floor.  His dark eyes flick over to you occasionally, though it looks like he’s trying really hard not to move a single muscle other than that.  His hands are clamped tightly between his thighs and he just… holds there.  A compact, rigid statue perched upright on the mattress, looking far too still and tense to fit the comfort of his surroundings.

“Are you okay?”  You ask him, blinking at how hoarse your voice comes out sounding.  Holy fuck, your mouth feels like a desert.  

Cassian stares at you, and for some reason, his large, expressive eyes seem even wider now.  They’re glassy and a bit red, but also so big and lovely and framed with long, dark lashes.

“This is not.”  His accent sounds thicker, words coming out deeper in his throat.  It settles down inside you just right and you feel a spark of heat at the base of your spine.  He blinks twice.  “This is not how it usually feels.”

“Should we stop?”  You look down at the half-finished joint in your hand, tilting your head thoughtfully as you consider the drug pulsing through your veins.  “It’s… it’s different, but I think it feels good.”

“Yes—I…”  He closes his eyes.  “Th-that is the problem, I think.”

He shifts a bit on the mattress and bites down on his bottom lip, and you must look so fucking dumb as you stare at him with your jaw slack, watching his lithe body stretch and handle the spice.  He’s fucking gorgeous.  Stars, you always thought he was gorgeous, but this is something else.  He flutters his eyes open to look at you through his lashes, and—

—oh.  Oh.  You see now.  You see what he meant.  Warmth pools deep down in your tummy as he looks at you with impossibly dark eyes, slowly drags his glassy gaze down your body.  Fuck, you’re getting turned on.  You go red and blink softly at him while he stares at you, trying to control your breathing.

“You need to—” your voice jumps, trying to remember the right cadence.  How do you speak to him normally?  “You can… take—take my pillow, if you want.  Lay down.  You’re too tall, your eyes are too big.  Look like a… like a Kaminoan.  Heal any—heal any clones recently?”

Bad joke.  Maker, he’s so beautiful.  Rich, dark features taking you in, blinking slowly at you and clearly not hearing a single word you said.

You shift your weight and throw him the cushion you’re partially sitting on without waiting for an answer.  You both need to calm the fuck down.  Hopefully the pillow will help.  Even if it’s squished and warm from your butt.  “It’s warm ‘cause I was sitting on it, m’sorry.  Fuck, it’s warm in here.  Do you think it’s warm in here?”

It’s like he still doesn’t hear you.  Cassian just takes your flattened pillow in his lap and looks at it for way too long, slowly rubs the fabric on the corner between his fingers and examines it, like if he tries hard enough he’ll be able to see through it.

“Cass,” you eventually call his name in reminder.  “Lay down, put that under your head—”

“Do you feel turned on?”  He asks quite suddenly, whipping his head to the side to look at you.  You almost drop the spice.

“No,” you say immediately, acting on impulse alone and trying to rearrange your face into something… something negative.  Something just generally negative, because you can’t even think of a negative emotion specific enough with the way your heart is pounding at the thought of something like this actually happening right now.  Holy fuck, you’re sweating.  What the fuck is in this shit?  “No, of course not.”

“Of course not,” he nods, turning back to look at your pillow.  “Me too.  Not.”  He shakes his head.  “Neither.  Either?”

“Lay down,” you tell him once more, desperately needing something else to do now, something to distract yourself from the way your lower muscles are starting to cramp up with heat and arousal.  “I’ll get us some water.  We need water.”

You’re off the bed and setting the smoldering spice on the small metal counter without another word, grabbing two empty cups and beginning to fill them up in the tiny little sink with your back to him. 

Stars, he was right.  It’s not supposed to feel like this.  It feels… it feels like everything is burning inside you, but such a good burn.  Like your mind is being seduced by your own body right now instead of the other way around, and the paradoxical sensation is manifesting itself in an unprecedentedly strong urge to jump your best friend’s bones.  The urge has always been there, granted, but it’s never been this shameless before.  Never arced and pulsed so brilliantly in your veins before, never been steadily fed by such a tempting outside source.  Not the drugs—but him.  The tangible fuck-me vibes Cassian is radiating towards you right now, staring at your back with those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his, silent and unmoving behind you as he watches you from your bed.  He’s never done anything to encourage your desire for him like this before.  He’s never wanted anything more than just platonic companionship and playful banter in the midst of war zones from you, and yet you can feel the heat burning from him too, feel it start to intensify your own high.

It’s bantha shit, you have to realize.  This whole Maker-forsaken situation—it’s forced; none of it’s real.  Cassian is your best friend, and he’s only looking at you like this because spice is chemically altering his hormones right now.  You can feel it doing the same to you, just steadily stirring deep in your floor muscles and amplifying your baser desires, but you need to snap yourself the fuck out of it and be the levelheaded one here.  Despite the arousal burning hot in your tummy, at least you know your thoughts are still fundamentally sound—in contrast, you have no fucking clue what’s going on in that hard head of his right now.  At least one of you needs to buck up, handle your drugs, and be the adult before things get out of hand.  If it falls to you, then so be it.

You focus on your breathing and do as much as you can to mentally will the tingling sensation down deep.  Taking a second to put a comfortable expression on, you finally turn around and start walking back to him.

When you raise your head and make eye contact with Cassian again though, the look in his eyes almost immediately threatens to undo everything you just decided.  Fuck, he looks like he just had an internal pep talk of his own, but in the entirely wrong direction you went.  He’s a bit more relaxed now, same as you, but his gaze is now searing hot on your body, tangible enough to stop you dead in your tracks in front of him.  It burns through you, and you literally feel the sweat drip down your back as a shiver rolls down your spine.

No.  Hold strong.  Maker, irresponsibility has always been appealing but never so fucking seductive as this is, has it?  Taking such a gorgeous fucking form.  You take a few more steps forward, quickly trying to gather composure.

“Should we stop?”  You ask him once more and stars, you were aiming for calmer and gentler and with more lung support—not this breathless scrape of a sound that feels like sandpaper in your throat.  He hasn’t said a fucking word and your resolve is already wavering.  You try not to make eye contact as you carefully hand him one of the cups.  “We’re only twenty minutes in, barely halfway through it.  We can stop and coast, it’s not a big deal.”

Cassian takes the water from your outstretched hand, letting the tips of his fingers brush lightly across yours in the process.  Your heart skips in your chest.  “Do you want to stop?”

You absolutely should fucking stop.  Just standing here and handing him water without ripping your clothes off is a challenge; you’ve still got half a joint left and you’re not even sure you’ve reached the come-up yet.  What if this is just the beginning?  What if this is just laying the foundation?  What happens when you actually peak on this shit?

“It’s not a big deal,” you repeat instead, keeping your answer as ambiguous as possible and taking a sip of the blessedly cold liquid.  At least the water is responding correctly to the frigid environment on this horrible fucking planet.  You feel ready to burn up.  “Just wanna make sure you’re cool.”

Cassian flicks his eyes over to the joint still cherried and smoking on the metal counter behind you.  “We can keep going.”

Your breathing picks up slightly.  Does he know what he’s really asking right now?  He has to have figured out what that spice does by now, right?  But no, he’s so steadfast in the way he looks at you, blinking up at you confidently.  Fuck, you should stop.  You should stop.

You should… compromise?

“If we keep going, no more of this,” you tell him, gesturing to the way he still hasn’t moved or drank any of the water in his cup.  “You need to.  Chill out, alright.  Act normal.”

Fuck, you’re normally so blunt and outspoken with him, so why is it that everything happening here is so fucking unsaid?  Everything is transpiring right below the surface, a conversation taking place within another conversation.  You’re telling him to cut the heart eyes, lay back on the bed and spend some rare quality time with his best friend.  Regardless of the weird side effects, this spice is still giving you an incredibly strong body high.  If he could just stop looking at you like that so you can stop rhythmically clenching and pulsing between your legs, you’d probably be incredibly relaxed right now.

“I will lay down,” he finally agrees, breaking eye contact with you and grabbing the pillow from his lap so he can throw it down next to him.  “Go, get the rest of it.”

“Drink.”  You stay rooted to your spot.

He gulps down the entire cup of water right in front of you, and something about how sassy and exaggerated it is makes you unwind just a bit and head back for the spice.

This is better, you think.  Butting heads with your strong personalities is better than whatever mind games you two were playing before, more familiar and grounding.  Cassian sets down his empty cup on the floor as you pick up the joint, and then you sit on the edge of the mattress across from him when you come back.

“So how were patrols?”  You ask him, taking another hit of it and studying the strange color it burns as you hold the smoke in your lungs, almost a light pink.

“Not bad,” he says, scooting back to lay lengthwise across the back of the bed.  His long legs stick off the end but he looks way more comfortable now, settling back into the pillow and watching you with a calmer, more easy-going look in his eyes.

“Where’d you get sent this time?”  You have to lean forward quite a bit to hand him the spice.

“The Lothal Sector,” Cassian responds casually, taking it from you.

“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, already unamused before he’s even started to mess with you.  “I will shoot down red leader tomorrow, Cass, don’t you dare fucking test m—”

“A local was trying to sell kittens to the pilots,” he goes on, completely ignoring you and relaxing back down into the mattress with the joint between his fingers.  “They were very cute.  But then I tell him no, because I did not know of anyone who could care for one.”

“That’s not fucking funny.” Cassian smiles slowly at you as you glare back at him very, very sternly.  “This is a no lothcat joking zone, I’m sensitive about this.”

He keeps smiling even as he takes his hit, gentle and fond and lovely on his face, but his eyes eventually go softer and a bit melancholy on the exhale.  

“I am sorry I missed your birthday, caraya,” he says to you truthfully, something sincere and tender in the way he looks at you.  “But I will get you something better than a cat.”

“What does that mean?”  You lean forward and grab the spice from him when he holds it out for you.

“No idea,” he admits during the careful exchange.  “Maybe something with less claws and teeth, I think.”

“No,” you shake your head, settling back on your butt once more.  “Caraya.  What does that mean?”

Cassian quickly opens his mouth to reply, but then pauses and takes a second.  As if he’s debating on what exactly he wants to tell you.  You inhale from the spice held between your fingers and wait patiently for him.  Probably something to do with birthdays, right?  Since he only started calling you that after you told him he missed yours.

You end up waiting for his answer so long, you actually feel like you should take another hit.  But when Cassian does eventually speak, it’s incredibly calculated and slow, like he’s actively trying to find the correct words to translate its exact meaning into Basic.

“Fest is part of a binary star system,” he finally tells you, breaking the silence.  “It is… it is what my people call the times when… when one of the stars sets while the other is rising on the opposite horizon.”

You pause with the joint halfway to your mouth, staring dumbly at him.

“It is rare.  I have seen it only twice.  Each time, for less than a minute.  It is very rare for them to match up perfectly, but when they do.”  His eyes go a bit softer, losing himself in his memories instead of concentrating so much on the words.  “The sky shines with every color.  Reds, yellows, and pinks to the west; blues, indigos, and violets to the east.  It is… it is also… something we call the ones close to us,” he continues, blinking his gaze slowly back to you.  “Caraya na cotâ vi zas iz’búsdari.  To care and be cared for is to feel the sun on both sides.”

You… you just keep staring at him.  Blank, unmoving, not really even breathing.  Your chest suddenly feels incredibly tight.  He looks back at you and stars, he looks so fucking gorgeous; long lashes dusting over his cheekbones at this angle, one hand resting lazily over his abdomen as he relaxes on your bed.

“It sounds…”  You sound winded.  “Lovely.”

“Yes,” Cassian returns softly, tilting his head on your pillow and blinking at you.  “It is.”

You don’t know why the fuck you thought this would be okay, honestly.  This whole thing was such a horrendous fucking idea right from the start.  You’re surprised you haven’t set the both of you on fire by dropping the lit spice between your fingers.  You were a fucking idiot to think you could resist him.  You were overconfident, underestimating him the way you did.  It’s like… like he’s approaching this in surges, almost.  Lulling you into a false sense of security for a bit, and then carefully pushes forward, toeing the line between best friend and person he wants to fuck and seeing how much you’ll let him get away with.

You’re… you’re a weak, spineless little thing.

“Is it—is it your turn?” You eventually ask him, looking down at the joint in your hands.  It’s barely above a whisper and it’s vaguely squeaky and it’s probably one of the dumbest fucking things you’ve ever asked in your life.  Of course it’s his turn, who the fuck else’s turn would it be?  

Cassian would normally rip into you for being such an idiot, but he doesn’t.  He just blinks softly at you, pupils dilated and glassy as they take you in.

“Would you like to…”  He sounds equally breathless now, swallowing thickly before he speaks again.  “You can… come closer, if you want.  Here.  With me.”  He pats his belly.  “No more reaching.”

What is… what is happening right now?  Is Cassian Andor actually, like—for real making a move on you?  His best friend?  The one he’s never looked twice at?

“You want me to…?”  Your cunt clenches.  Stars, you’re so wet already.  You can feel it, dampening your underwear as his eyes flutter slightly at the rasp in your voice.

“Come,” he pats his stomach once more.  “Lay down with me.”

You slowly begin to shuffle over to him on shaky knees, trying to move normally as he watches you.  He stretches out across the back of the bed, giving you a perfect spot along his open torso to relax into.  Your heart pounds as you carefully hand the spice to him before settling yourself on your back with your head on his tummy, making a little perpendicular t-shape with him on the mattress, vision slightly blurry but pulsing at the same time.

Maker, he smells so fucking good.  He smells like fresh snow and something warm at the same time, so lean and long above you.  You’re almost panting now, burning up in your thick layers as you try to get comfortable.

“Maker, it’s so fucking hot in here,” you whisper, using your sleeve to wipe the sweat gathering at your temples.  “Fuck.”

“Take off your shirt,” Cassian suggests quietly, and your mouth instantly goes bone dry, your chest forgetting to rise again after it collapses with a quick whoosh of breath.  “You have something on underneath, yes?”  He adds quickly before you can completely ignite in flames.  “Take off the top one.”

You… you have a thin undershirt on, but nothing underneath that.  It’s nearing three in the morning, of course you don’t have a bra on right now.  And the undershirt is white, and you’re sweating buckets, which means—

“It… it might show some…”  You have no clue how to phrase this, but Cassian quickly responds.

“It is just me,” he reassures, carefully reaching his arm around your head to hold the joint up to your lips for you.  You inhale the drug deeply, watching the pink light illuminate the tips of his fingers.  “We are best friends, and this is your room.  You should relax.”

Maker, this is… this is dangerous.  He’s dangerous.  He’s smart, choosing to go at it from this angle.  He’s not toeing the line anymore, he’s just… blurring it until it doesn’t exist anymore.  Or better yet, just walking over it and pretending it doesn’t exist at all.  Pretending nothing at all is happening between you right now.  Trying to see whether you’ll be more willing to give in if he comes at you from the side like this, not necessarily catching you off guard but refusing to outright confront you about it either.

Apparently precedent rules.  You’re a weak, spineless little thing, especially when presented with such a compelling out.  He’s… he’s totally right.  You are best friends, this is your room, and you should relax.  Nothing sexual about it at all, right?  Furthermore, relaxing trumps overheating any fucking day of the week, so… so that’s why you tell yourself it’s okay to sit up and immediately reach behind your head, grabbing the hoodie and beginning to pull the thick fabric off.  

Only, it’s damp and clings to your thin undershirt, dragging both of them up the length of your back as it goes.  You stop when the lower hem pulls up just below your breasts, trying to reach back behind your head even further and separate the two materials but struggling with the angle.

“Cass,” you eventually prompt, trying not to flush.  Not like he’d be able to tell, though; you’ve been unbearably warm and fidgety this entire time, your embarrassment conceals itself without your assistance.  “You wanna help me?  Or you just wanna keep watching?”

“Do not ask me such stupid questions,” he tells you plainly, unmoving.  “What did I say?  We are best friends.  Of course I am not going to help you.  You are…” he trails off when you lift your shoulders upright just a bit to see if the angle will work better that way.  It does, but the fabric drags further up your ribcage from the shift, “…You are nice to watch.”

Your heart pounds, and you’re even clumsier knowing he’s staring at your exposed tummy right now.  Maker, this should not be as difficult as it is.  You swing your arms back around behind you, arching outwards and trying to separate them from the bottom this time, but gravity doesn’t appear to work in your favor.  

Maybe you can do like, some sort of weird, half-and-half thing to get them apart?  Maybe?  Where you hold the undershirt from the bottom with one hand and pull the hoodie from the top with the other?

Yes, okay—that could possibly work.  Cassian inhales more spice as he lazes behind you, getting a front row seat to watch this subsequent genius unfold.

You get into your monkey-like position, beginning to pry the two materials apart from behind like you planned.  But then—oh, your undershirt still sticks to your hoodie at the front, pulling up a few inches with it and flashing the lower curve of your breasts to the room before you immediately halt and switch tactics, reaching back down and trying to pull them apart from the front withou—

A large, warm palm comes up to settle on your bare spine, right in the middle of your shoulder blades.

You freeze.  But Cassian doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything more than that.  He just holds his hand there, steady and solid against your upper back.

Neither one of you move.  It’s like… it’s like you’re both trying so hard to get a read on each other that your reactions are equally stunted.  Is he doing this to bring you to a still so he can help you?  Is he simply as blazed as you are right now and not thinking about things before he does them?  Is he—

But then Cassian starts slowly dragging his hand down your spine, carefully riding the gentle curve of it downwards as your breathing subtly picks up.  Your arms are halfway caught in the fabric, not able to stop him unless you untangle them and reach behind you.  So you just hold there statuesquely as his palm inches down the sweat-slick muscles of your lower back, thumb just barely brushing the hemline of your sweatpants.  

Fuck, you feel like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin.  Heat pools deep in your tummy, spidering outwards and sending pulsing shocks down your legs when he keeps his hand there for just a second.

Until… until he traces all the way back up and carefully hooks a finger around your undershirt.  

Your heart pounds as Cassian gradually pulls it over the top of your head with your hoodie, guiding you to bring both of them around your arms.  He pushes against your shoulder wordlessly, urging you to lie back down with your head on his stomach once more, the fabric stretched tight over your upper-body and the entire length of your spine now fully exposed as it touches the mattress.

“C-Cassian,” you breathe, fluttering your eyes up at the ceiling.

“Yes, caraya?”  He murmurs, and you completely forget what you’re going to say when he continues to pull the hoodie and undershirt down over your arms, exposing your naked breasts to the open air.

Your cunt pulses between your legs and you hear him throw the thick bulk of fabric carelessly on the floor.  “I—I-I don’t—”

“You will stay like this?”  Cassian tells you softly, brushing your damp hair back from your shoulder so that your bare chest is completely unobstructed as it faces the ceiling.  Your nipples are hard, a thin sheen of sweat covering your entire body, and you can feel his gaze drag down your naked skin, even if he doesn’t actually touch you.  No, he just takes another slow drag from the spice in his hand and tilts his head back to rest on your pillow, relaxing into the mattress with a gentle shuffle of his shoulder blades.  “If you are too warm, you will stay like this, okay?  Be comfortable.”

Is it possible to die from arousal?  Your clit is fucking pounding; everything from the waist down is unbearably tight and cramped.  Stars, you feel like you’ll cum if you even move wrong right now.  He told you to be comfortable, but you’re not—you’re boiling from the sensation, topless on your bed, trying not to close your eyes or squeeze your legs together.  It’s too fucking casual and unacknowledged, how he’s going about this.  You feel like you’re going to explode.

Cassian gently taps your bare shoulder to get your attention and shifts his head slightly to look down at you.  You bite your bottom lip and flutter your gaze sideways to meet his after a second, hoping you don’t look as flushed and tight with burning arousal as you feel.  Deep brown eyes look back at you, hazy and dilated.  He takes a second to slowly drag his gaze down the length of your half-naked body once more, now that he knows you’re watching him.  Your breath comes audibly now, quicker and shallower than it should be after laying flat on a bed for this long.

“Here,” Cassian prompts, holding the smoldering joint out for you to take.  His voice sounds raspier now, but still so… casual.  Like he’s out here talking about the weather with a mildly sore throat, not because your tits are out while you stare at each other and neither one of you is saying a damn thing about it.  It’s like he’s determined to hold onto the splitting tension, drag it out between you as long as he can.  “Want more?”

You know what he’s really asking, and it cramps your lower muscles up even harder.  He’s asking if you want more of this spice that’s currently getting you naked in front of him.  More of this madness, twisting up your insides with need and jumbling your thoughts.  More of him treating you like this, like there’s not a damn thing out of place in the universe right now, like you’re still just best friends so that’s why it’s okay you’re both doing this together.

Stars, do you want more?  Do you want him to keep winding you up like this?  More of this torture, this agonizing foreplay, wondering when he’ll finally give in and touch you?  Pretending like this is still completely platonic, like what’s happening here isn’t wildly unprecedented, insanely inappropriate, and so fucking hot?

You can feel your eyebrows pull up in the middle as you look at him, almost pleading with him to… something.  To stop, maybe?  Stop altogether, or just stop… fuck, stop ignoring the way your cunt feels clamped around itself tighter than a vice between your legs?  Stop neglecting your burning desire for him, even when it’s right in front of his face.  Stop refusing to acknowledge the way you’re just letting him look at you right now, how you haven’t once stopped playing along with this fever dream just in case you aren’t imagining it?  Fuck, but Cassian just looks back at you, his expression completely blank except for the smallest little glimmer in his eyes.  A silent, heated glint as he just barely quirks an eyebrow at you.

So you make the decision all at once.  You carefully reach over for the spice with your far hand, feeling your breasts shift towards him slightly with the slow movement.  Cassian doesn’t even feel like he’s breathing as you gently take it from him.  He just stares down at your naked chest and swallows thickly, eyelids dipping slightly as he moves to meet you halfway.

You let your nipple brush up against his knuckles just slightly with the exchange.

When you face back towards the ceiling again and readjust your shoulders flat on the bed, he lets out a slow, shaky breath under your head as it rests on his tummy.  The tension rockets up to eleven, weighing heavy and unspoken and ready to snap.  

But then like that, the moment passes—it’s just another invisible spark igniting between the two of you, just another thing buried beneath the silence and yet ringing so unbelievably loud because of it.  You’re both emitting and absorbing the same buzzing energy, amplifying it back to one another in a slow, endless feedback loop of rising pressure.

The spice comes up to your lips, and Cassian’s fingertips carefully trail along your other arm as it rests by your side.

“This is better, no?”  He asks you quietly, the rough tips of his fingers just barely gliding across your skin in small, mindless patterns.  They dance down your skin like feathers, tracing a small arch over the ridge of your elbow so lightly you almost feel like you might be imagining it.  Your eyes flutter when he gradually skims down the length of your forearm and brushes his thumb in a smooth circle around the bone in your wrist.  “Or you are still too warm?”

You bite your bottom lip when one of his fingers carefully stretches all the way up to your hip, running along the hem of your sweatpants.  

“Yeah, m’still a little—” you gasp, trying not to stutter when Cassian starts to draw up the length of your waistline, pausing right when his fingers reach your drawstrings.  “Little w-warm,” you finish hoarsely, painfully aware of how fucking wet you are, how your nipples are peaked and glistening with sweat as they move with your soft, shallow breathing.

He slowly dips one finger below the elastic wrapping across your hips, dragging it back and forth under the damp waistband.

“This fabric is heavy,” Cassian remarks, just the slightest husk in his voice.  “You… you will take this off, too?”

“I-I don’t—”  You’re about to say have anything on underneath except you immediately go quiet, because he’s suddenly slithering his entire hand down into your sweatpants and brushing his knuckles along the gentle slope of you.

He pauses once more when his longest finger reaches the very top of your slit.

But then he just holds it there for a second, tracing small arches back and forth along gentle give of it, the slight dip that separates your soft curls from your soaking heat.  You tighten up and wait in breathless anticipation for it, before the tip of Cassian’s finger finally comes to a rest over the soft split of flesh.

And then he’s suddenly pushing in, and down—

—fuckfuckfuckfuck—don’tcumdon’tcum—don’t—

You make a soft, vulnerable sound in bliss as he slowly slides his finger through the hot, slick cleft of your pussy.

“You are warm down here, too,” Cassian murmurs quietly.  Your eyes roll back when he drags the entire length of it up against your clit, letting you feel each individual ridge and joint and crevice across the swollen bit of flesh.  “Is it the spice?”  He asks, sinking his finger back down into you once more.  “Or are you always this wet between your legs?”

Neither.  Both, maybe?  Mostly it’s just him.  Cassian, whispering softly to you through the hazy darkness, lazily dipping his fingers into your cunt and letting it drench and engulf his skin in its heat.

“Tell me,” he prompts when you don’t say a word.  His finger pulls up and begins tracing slow, gentle circles around your clit.

“No,” you breathe haggardly, arching your hips up just slightly as he touches you.  “N-No, this is…”

“This is different,” Cassian confirms when you don’t finish your sentence.  He keeps circling your clit, and it’s like he’s just casually, carelessly stirring a pot that’s about to boil over and set everything on fucking fire.  You pulse threateningly under the tip of his finger, swollen and tight and just trying your best to control your breathing.  “So it is the spice.  Why you are this hot, this… this soaking.”

“It’s…”  Don’t you say it.  Don’t you fucking say it.  Don’t you turn this into something it isn’t.  “Yeah.  It’s—it’s the sp-spice.”

His finger follows the hard curve of you down to where you give, where you’re leaking wetness and heat from the source, before he’s suddenly shifting his wrist and pushing the entire thing into you down to his knuckle.

Now you do arch your hips, spreading your legs and helping him go deeper even as Cassian hums, stretching his finger and feeling you clench hot and tight around him.  He says something softly, something in a language you don’t understand.

And then he’s pulling out and rubbing circles around your clit again, the tip of his finger steady and firm as he steadily drags the pleasure out of you.

“We need to finish it soon,” he eventually reminds you, and it takes a remarkable delay for you to realize he’s talking about the lingering quarter of the joint still clenched tightly between your fingers.  “Take your hit.  We have a nine-hundred call, remember.”

Fuck, you bring the spice up to your lips with a shaky hand, trying to remember whether you should inhale or exhale first.  Cassian’s finger just keeps circling your clit, winding you up tighter and tighter.  His motions are so repetitive and predictable, but they’re somehow still lighting you on fire from the inside, slowing you down spectacularly as you try to take a steady breath in through the filter.

“Stars, you are so wet,” he remarks after a moment.  “Are you going to cum soon?  You feel like you are so close already.”

You are close.  Everything is swollen and slippery and tight, and hearing him say it out loud like that makes the pleasure rocket up even tighter inside you.  You don’t even feel him reach around with his other hand and take the spice from you.  You just lose yourself in the mindless sensation of Cassian’s finger on your clit, rolling your eyes back and reaching your hands down to fisting the sheets at your sides as he touches you.

“Does this feel good, caraya?”  He whispers quietly to you, inhaling deeply from the spice.  “You are usually so… mouthy with me.  Is this helping?  Do I need to rub your clit like this more often?”

“Fuck—Cassian, I’m gonna cum,” you tell the ceiling raggedly, chest beginning to arch up and hips bearing down.

“Do it,” he murmurs, reaching his thumb through your slick lips to pinch and roll the pulsing bud between his fingers.  “Right here.  All you can.”

And then wild, painful bliss stabs through you, launching you headfirst into a blinding orgasm.  A desperate sound tears from your throat as you cum hard all over your best friend’s hand, agonizing pleasure shredding mindless rapture through your veins.  It rings white noise through your ears and rips you apart from the inside out, arcing lightning down your spine more bright and explosive than ever before.  Fuck, it’s unprecedentedly powerful.  You’re drenched but your clit is hard and pulsing and swollen, and he’s able to keep it between his fingers the entire time your hips writhe desperately on the mattress.

Cassian inhales from the spice once more and massages your clit through the torturous, blazing hot aftershocks.  He drags the pleasure out of you until you’re a trembling mess, exhausted from the spasms wreaking havoc on your body.

But then… but then you’re still so hot.  It’s like your limbs have no energy left but your cunt is still pulsing and wanting more from him.  You feel your wetness coating his hand, your inner thighs, probably soaking through your sweatpants, but fuck, you want him to keep touching you like this—you want him to keep doing this.

It’s the spice, something tells you in the very back of your mind.  It almost made you black out with a wild orgasm and now it’s quickly preparing your overheated body for another one.  Your feet come up to brace against the mattress and your eyes close, jaw going slack as you grind feverishly against Cassian’s hand.

“Again?”  He whispers to you, fingers continuing to pinch and roll your clit and then—and then another debilitating wave of euphoria is suddenly slamming through you, pulling your chest up and flooding his hand with another series of wet, powerful contractions.  Cassian rasps something in his native tongue and rides you through the second one just as steady as the first, your pussy spasming uncontrollably as he slowly wrings the pleasure from you.

Fuck, it feels so good.  You’re worked up and trembling and trying not to whimper for him, desperately wanting him to keep his hand right here forever, buried right between your legs like this.  But you also—you also want Cassian to feel it too, feel the way the unrestrained hedonism practically burns you alive when you cum.

So you carefully turn over on your side and shuffle forwards a bit, resting your head on his lower stomach, right in front of the mouthwatering bulge in his trousers.  His fingers can’t fully reach your cunt from this angle, but Cassian is resilient.  He just drags his hand over your hip and slithers his fingers into your pussy from behind while you start unbuckling his pants with shaky fingers.

He’s unbelievably hard and throbbing and leaking when you pull his cock out of his underwear, the pulsing urgency of his erection not lining up with the way he’s still relaxing on your mattress, still hasn’t moved under you.  So you just hold his length up to your lips and open them, slowly sliding your tongue around the tip of him three times before taking his curved head into the hot cavern of your mouth.

Cassian takes a deep, shaky breath as you suck softly on the head of his cock, fluttering your tongue along a bead of precum he leaks from the slit.  He drags his fingers through your drenched pussy lips from behind as you carefully move your head down his tummy, opening your jaw wider and letting him fill your mouth deeper.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and you hum softly and lift your back palate slightly, sliding your tongue drift down his shaft and taking him a bit deeper still.  He shudders under you and pushes the tip of his finger up against your clit.

And then you shudder because Cassian completely bypasses your hood at this angle, bumping into the swollen bit of flesh without any resistance or protection and just… holding it there.  Barely moving an inch while you begin to slowly bob up and down just slightly around his cock, just keeping his fingertip right up against your clit and sparking heat down through your legs.

You move your hand down to cup his balls and start to roll your hips against his fingers.  Cassian’s breathing stutters as you lazily suck his cock, rubbing a tight little circle on your clit in silent encouragement.

“We should—” his voice is hoarse now, now that you’ve got his dick in your mouth and you’re gently swirling your tongue around it, almost as unhurried and casual about the act as he was bringing you to your first orgasm.  “We should do this.  More.”

You slowly pull off him, kissing the tip of his cock and mouthing at the way he’s steadily releasing thick drops of precum for you.  Cassian’s finger rolls firmly against your clit in response.

“You just want your dick sucked every time you come back to base,” you counter breathlessly, brushing your lips against him while talking with his cockhead resting on the edge of your tongue.

His hand shifts, and then he’s suddenly pushing two thick fingers deep inside you.  You moan around his tip and prop one leg up on the mattress so he can fill you easier, going back to sucking and swiping your tongue over his frenulum.

“I would not mind it,” he admits with a shaky exhale.  “You are.  Very g-good.  Fuck.  And wa—” he gasps, feeling you clench tight around his fingers, “—warm.  Fuck, every… everywhere.”

Fuck, it feels so good like this.  Laying here, topless and being penetrated two different ways by Cassian, feeling him throb in your mouth while you rest your head on his tummy, feeling him stretch your cunt walls with his fingers while you hold your legs open for him.

You pull off him to drag your slick tongue over your palm, coating your fingers in saliva.  Cassian groans when you wrap your hand around the thick base of him, and then he lifts his hips slightly as you start to slowly jerk him off into you mouth.

“Fuck—caraya, if you keep doing that, I will—” he whispers after a moment, curling his fingers inside you in warning.  You just tighten your grip and add just the slightest twist to your wrist and “Wait—wait—” Cassian grunts, starting to pull his fingers out of you—

You pull off him just enough to murmur the words against his throbbing head.  “You’ll want more than one, okay.  Trust me.  Cum like this, okay?  Cum just like this, right in my mouth.”

You wrap your lips around his cock once more and keep jerking him off slow and tight into the heat of your mouth, and Cassian’s abdominal muscles go incredibly tense under your head.  And then you squeeeeze your lower muscles around his fingers, and all the tension suddenly snaps.

His cock goes rock hard on your tongue and starts pulsing steadily as he groans out your name like it hurts, fingers stuffed deep in your cunt.  You swallow around him and moan, clenching rhymically around his fingers and letting him slowly empty himself into your mouth.  Fuck, he takes forever with it, shuddering and gasping and pumping cum down your throat, his orgasm clearly as powerful as yours was.  The spice drags it out, makes you both lose yourself in the raw heaven of release for far longer than normal.

The spice also prevents him from softening when Cassian finally stops spurting hot cum in your mouth.  You suspected as much—which is why you keep sucking his cock even as he stops throbbing, you keep him in your hot mouth even when he’s laying trembling and exhausted under you.  And he still stays rock solid on your tongue, swollen and needing more.

Cassian’s voice sounds shredded when he finally speaks.  “I—I am going to crash my x-wing tomorrow,” he tells you hoarsely, fingers finally slipping out of your channel with a vulgar, slick sound.  “You were right.”

You pull off him and kiss the tip of his cock one final time, making sure you’ve cleaned up the mess completely.  “Today.”

“Fuck.  Today,” he acknowledges tightly, adjusting his hips when you lift your head off his stomach.  “Fuck.  In a few hours.  You will make me crash, just thinking about this.”

“Why is it,” you turn around and blink at him, “that after literal decades of my friendship, you only acknowledge my perpetual rightness after I make you cum for the first time?”

Cassian just smiles softly at you, and his fingers are drenched as they rest lazily against your thigh.  “Caraya.  Two suns.  Twice the illumination, no?”

You bite your lip and try not to smile back at him, wanting to blush and roll your eyes in equal parts.  Stars, why is he so… so lovely?  Speaking to you so sweetly, looking back up at you from your pillow like you’re every single color in his sky.  Your heart seizes in your chest, staring at him with the same kind of fondness and admiration his beautiful eyes are shining with.  Fuck, you want… you want to…

“Can we… can we have sex now?”  You whisper.  Not really shy, but… but it almost sounds shy in its quiet, breathless hope.  

“You do not want me to taste you?”  Cassian immediately asks, reaching out with one hand to offer you what’s left of the spice while the other stays firmly wedged between your legs.  “I want to.  I have…”

You bite down on your bottom lip and take the nearly finished joint from him, feeling his fingers curl against your pussy lips at the same time and knowing you’re going to regret letting him finish his sentence.  He swallows thickly.

“I have thought about it,” Cassian eventually tells you, carefully admitting the words like he never expected he’d ever say them aloud and is completely unprepared.  “Sometimes.  Sometimes when… when I am about to sleep.  I think of… of you.  What you taste like.  Right here.”  He barely slips the tip of his finger back between your folds, fluttering his eyelashes at the way you’re still dripping in his hand.  “I bet you are so sweet.  Will you let me find out?”

Except.  Except you’re suddenly blanking.

He’s… he’s thought about you before?  Like this?  Fuck, he isn’t just… just saying that, right?  Just telling you what you want to hear?  Because fuck, it’s almost too good to be true; like everything out of his mouth since you first put his cock in yours has somehow sounded even better than the last.  You feel like you’re dreaming, and it.  It makes you almost frantic with need, overcome with the desire to solidify your connection with him before it can be ripped away like it always is.

You don’t respond to him.  You just quickly wiggle out of your sweatpants and get on top of him, swinging one of your legs around Cassian’s hips.  The spice is held in one hand while the other reaches down and aligns his cock right up against your opening.

Cassian grabs your thighs tightly and takes a long, shuddery breath under you.  Fuck, he really is a dream, isn’t he?  Long and lithe and beautiful, still throbbing and pulsing and ready for you after you already swallowed his first load.  You straighten your back and slowly sit down on his cock, letting the thick, hard length of it break you open slowly.

His hands trace up to your hips and then slide along the gentle curves of your sides, measuring the size of your ribcage before eventually grasping both of your tits in his palms.  You breathe through the pleasure and the stretch, letting Cassian pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers as you gradually slide down him and come to a rest flush against his pelvis.

Fuck he feels spectacular.  You can feel him pulsing inside of you, fitting and stretching the contours of your slick cunt perfectly.  You shiver and clench around him, finishing off the last hit of spice as you roll your hips slightly to adjust to the tight fit of his cock.

You twist your shoulders to carefully toss the smoldering roach into the sink when it’s done, really taking your time with aiming it to make sure you don’t miss.  The second it lands in the metal basin is the second Cassian grinds his hips up into yours while giving both of your nipples a gentle tug, and a jolt of pleasure rocks its way down your spine.

“Im-impatient,” you whisper, trying to scold him but it comes out sounding all wrong, far more needy and breathy than you wanted.

“I wanted my tongue in your pussy,” he whispers back in reminder, squeezing your tits as you start to circle and grind against him, letting you both enjoy the sensation of each other without any solid aim at the moment.  “You could not wait.”

“Later,” you gasp, tipping your head back and just—fuck, just enjoying his cock.  Enjoying how it feels, pressing up deliciously tight against something inside you that just absolutely loves the pressure.  You scoot yourself back just a bit, just so he is really shoved up hard against that spot as you grind and roll your body.  It ignites sparks deep in your floor muscles, makes you clamp tighter around him as you slowly ride your best friend’s cock.

And stars, Cassian just watches you.  He drags his hands over your naked body as it swells and rocks back over his hips like waves in the ocean.  He’s still completely clothed, and while something inside you wants you to get him as naked as your are, rub your exposed skin against his and make sure he never forgets how you feel against him, most of you is just fucking burning at the eroticism of being so bare and tall above him while he looks at you.

“Later,” he eventually repeats after you, definitively confirming what you said.  Cassian’s voice is somehow soft and rough at the same time, quiet but tight and hoarse in his throat.  “I will taste you later.”

You jerk a nod in agreement, starting to gain just a little bit of a rhythm on top of him.  Your eyes flutter closed as you lean your weight back slightly and begin to pull up when your hips twist in towards him, and then sinking back down on his cock when your hips circle back around again.

“Fuck,” you hear Cassian grit as you keep doing that, relaxing your lower muscles as he’s thrusted into you and then clamping down on his length as it’s slowly dragged out.  “Fuck, you are—a-amazing, caraya.  You are.  You are—fuck—”

A sinful heat starts simmering deep inside you as Cassian cuts himself off with a gasp and squeezes his eyes shut, starts rocking his pelvis up in time with your slow, sensual rotations.  Both of his hands clamp down hard over your hips as they continue to undulate in slow circles around his cock.

“Maker,” you whisper, trying to focus on your rhythm instead of the terrifying, building sensation inside of you.  Fuck, you can literally feel the threat of your orgasm start to carefully wind itself around the base of your spine, simmering and sparking with dark pleasure as it gradually spreads its electric claws outwards.  It’s huge.  You can already feel it gathering together inside you, culminating into something monstrous and fierce.

Cassian says your name, and you suddenly blink your eyes open at the unexpected urgency and tightness in his voice.  Your vision takes a second to focus on his gorgeous face, and when you immediately see the same exact storm of swirling desperation in his eyes, your jaw goes slack as you speed up, trying to chase him as Cassian all but hurtles towards the blinding explosion nearing its detonation.

“Fuck, I—” he gasps, and then he’s suddenly going rigid under you and cumming deep in your slick heat with a desperate sound, shuddering and gasping for you as his thumbs dig into your thighs.  Fuck, you grind harder, trying to find and focus on your favorite angle now as Cassian whimpers through the bliss and writhes under you, throbbing and pumping in steady, helpless jolts.

You whimper, too—fuck, you’re almost there, you’re gasping and trying to surrender to the swelling sensation, but it’s so intense and overwhelming and you’re close to tears because you’re fighting it just as much as you’re seeking it out, and—

And then the breath is suddenly knocked out of you when Cassian reaches up to grab you and flip the both of you over, your back coming down hard against the mattress.  He kneels between your legs, hooks both of your calves over his shoulders, props his arms next to your head, and then he starts thrusting.

You sob brokenly, slapping an open palm against his chest.  Fuck, his cock is still so hard and it shreds up achingly deep against that blinding spot so perfectly, you can’t focus on anything anymore.  The dark, evasive build immediately twists up sharp and impending as Cassian fucks you steady and deep, and you start to muffle your cries and gasps into the back of your hand.

But then, oh—words are coming, too.  Oh Maker, you can feel the urge to say them rise up along with the ferocious stirrings of your orgasm, clawing its way out of your throat before you can do anything to stop it.

“Fuck—” you tear your hand away to sob brokenly, not being able to stop yourself as the tsunami begins to peak, “oh, fuck—I love you.  Oh, fuck, I—I love you, Cassian—I love you, I—IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou—”

His cock splinters up against sheer euphoria inside you as you cum with a desperate wail of his name, pussy clamping down hard as it erupts into searing hot ecstasy around him.

—and then suddenly Cassian is lurching against you and bringing his lips down to yours, licking into your mouth and cumming deep inside you once more.  Maker, you nearly scream at the sensation, your tight cunt milking the throbbing length of him with endlessly wet, hot contractions as he grinds you both through the aching bliss.  He kisses you like he’s wanted to do it for years, bites your bottom lip as you whimper and spasm wildly around him.

Fuck, you can hear the mess you’re both making.  It’s obscene, filling the room with the slick sound of your desperate coupling.  Cassian eventually pulls his mouth away to look down at where he’s rocking into your drenched cunt, the evidence of his own pleasure slicking up hard lines of his erection.

Your eyes roll back when he doesn’t stop thrusting.

***

You lose track of everything.

Time, direction, responsibility—nothing matters, because Cassian goes on like that.  For hours, taking you apart every single way you can imagine.  You fuck the effects of the spice out of your body until nothing exists but him—Cassian’s cock stretching you, his tongue gliding along your skin, his whispered words of broken praise murmured against your neck.

Strangely, your body feels absolutely amazing when you finally manage to gain the slightest bit of awareness of your obligations again.  You feel like you’re floating above everything, almost dreamlike in how unbelievably satisfied you feel.  

You slowly blink up at the ceiling, and then suddenly remember the nine-hundred call you have to make.  You’re both naked, sprawled out on top of your mattress, and Cassian—

“Cass—” you rasp, pulling on the thick waves of hair tangled between your fingers and feeling his hot tongue slip out of your pussy.  It’s still slightly dark in your room, but that could just be the horrendous weather blocking the sun.  “What—what time is it?  Did we miss—?”

“Almost eight,” Cassian rumbles low against your thigh.  “We still have some time before we need to get up.”

You lurch into startled awareness, getting go of him to prop yourself you on your elbows.  “But that’s—no, we have to shower, and—”

“A ten minute walk to the hangar from here, yes?”  Cassian reasons, pressing a lazy kiss to your thigh and not sounding bothered in the slightest.  “Twenty minutes to shower together, ten minutes to get dressed.  We have at least ten more minutes before we need to think about getting up.”

You shudder and blink down at him, naked and relaxed as he mouths over your skin.  Maker, how can everything change and yet still be so familiar at the same time?

“I think I might crash my x-wing today,” you finally breathe out, dropping your shoulders back down to the mattress once again.

“No,” he returns, turning his head to kiss your other thigh.  “You will not.  Because I checked my holopad earlier, and they sent the coordinates for red squadron’s patrols.”

You narrow your eyebrows at the ceiling.  What does that have to do with anyth—?

And then you suddenly go shock-still under him, trying not to let the blind, overwhelming hope surge up inside you.

“Bring extra credits, caraya,” Cassian murmurs, lowering his head back down between your legs.  “We are going to Lothal.”

[wooyunhwa]

kingdom of welcome addiction | three

view pinned post for masterlist / links to the rest of the parts!

Genre: smut

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: graphic violence, blood drinking, overstimulation, orgasm denial, crying kink, corruption kink, praise kink? idk, alcohol drinking, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: I’m a little too whipped for this san tbh,,, Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

“Go talk to him!” 

“Yuri, he’s way out of my—”

“C’mon, you look hot! You haven’t been out with us in like, over a month. Have some fun for once.”

“The worst he could do is reject you,” Chaeyeon piped in at your side. 

Easy for them to say. Your friends were practically models, of course they would think getting a guy's number was easy. 

But either way, you couldn’t take your eyes off him all night. Tall, perfectly proportioned, entirely graceful. His jet-black undercut hair was styled up neatly in such a way that one side fell gracefully over his eyes. Admittedly, he was no San, but he was gorgeous.  There was no way you’d be able to get his number, but your friends were right about one thing. You could really use some fun. 

You knocked back the rest of your drink, and it stung the back of your throat just enough to give you the confidence you needed to approach him. 

Your friends watched, mouths agape as you somehow managed to score his number—he typed it into your phone with graceful fingers, caching in into your contacts under the name Seonghwa. A fittingly pretty name for such a gorgeous man. When you walked back to the table, your friends' eyes were wide in both jealousy and shock, and you felt incredibly powerful for just a moment.

“The way you’re looking at me, it seems like you didn’t think I’d actually get it,” you joked, leaning against the table to stir the ice in your empty glass mindlessly. 

“Well, uh... we kind of didn’t. Not that you’re not pretty or anything, but that guy is out of all our leagues. Like pretty much everyone in this bar’s league, actually.”

“No guarantee he’ll actually call me. It could be a fake number,” you shrugged. 

You kind of couldn’t believe you were able to get his number either, but it did give you a much needed confidence boost. You didn’t need your demon boy anymore, you could actually get a human. A gorgeous one at that. Of course, this human boy probably wouldn’t clean your bathroom for you. Or look so goddamn hot doing it. 

You glanced around the bar confidently, making eye contact with Seonghwa and giving him a flirtatious wink. 

You weren’t usually big into going to bars, even with your friends. Rather, you preferred a chill night in watching movies or playing Cards Against Humanity. But your friends had been nagging you for nearly a month to go out with them, their constant invites finally coming to a head when you accepted out of the blue. You’d been so focused on your secret nightly rendezvous with the hot demon boy in your bedroom that you’d rejected them over and over, blaming a “mountain of school work” and “midterm stress”. While both of those things were true, you had basically discarded your social life to lust over a pretty demon boy. You knew now that he was a bad idea, and you needed to move on.

For the last week, you’d been agonizing over him. You hadn’t re-summoned him since you saw him last—the night he choked you until you passed out with his dick inside you. There were two big reasons for this. 

First, you were a bit embarrassed for passing out on him, although you knew that was nowhere near your fault. Your first time with a guy, and you pass out? Of course, his demonic hands were around your throat literally asphyxiating you, but you still felt slightly ashamed at the idea of him seeing you like that, and even taking the time to re-clothe you afterwards. You didn’t know if you could even look him in the eyes after that.

Secondly, and this was admittedly the biggest reason: you knew that you were no longer desirable to him. Your appeal to him was undoubtedly your virgin tears, blood, aura, whatever. You were a virgin, your very presence was like crack to him. But you’d fucked him. Well, started anyway, but it definitely counted. You weren’t a virgin anymore, not by his instinctual demon standards at least—not in the way he needed you to be. And what were you without your virginity other than some insignificant human soul in an endless sea of human souls? He didn’t need you anymore. 

But there was also the issue of the fact that he wasn’t human, and never would be. If all you did was contract him into sex, wouldn’t that just make him your demon prostitute who cleans your house sometimes? You didn’t have a contract last time, but it wouldn’t matter now anyway. There was no way he’d risk going contract-less again, especially if you weren’t a virgin anymore. 

So you decided to move on. He was bad for you in every way, a bad habit you needed to break. An addiction you needed to give up on. 

But it was certainly easier said than done. 

He haunted you, in your dreams, and even while you were awake. His post-it on your wall, taunting you, although you didn’t have the heart to rip it off. It wouldn’t matter if you did, anyway, you’d memorized his summoning phrase by heart. It was practically burned into you like a brand—a constant reminder of his hold on you. Even the inhuman taste of his lips lingered on yours for far longer than they should have.

You shook your thoughts of San from your head the best you could, refocusing on just having a good time tonight. You almost forgot the outside world existed with how much you’d been isolated with San in your apartment. It felt nice. 

You finished your night with a few more drinks, waving bye to your friends as they hopped in their ride-share. The bar wasn’t far from your apartment, and you lived in a relatively safe neighborhood, so you weren’t exactly worried about walking home by yourself at night. 

You had been drinking, but you didn’t necessarily feel drunk, perhaps just a little wobbly as you made your way through the neighborhood. A sign reading “road construction” blocked your path, and you noticed the sidewalk was completely cut off for the next few blocks. Walking all the way around would have taken forever, so you chose to cut through an alleyway to access the back entrance of your building. It was one you were familiar with—you’d taken it several times when you wanted to cut down your trip, but never at night. You walked through, keeping close to the wall lining the side because it offered the most visibility. It was quite dim, only the dull flickering of a rusty street light overhead giving any sense of light. 

Then you saw it. 

To your left, you caught a glimpse of crimson red shining almost like neon in the dim, flickering light of the alley, and then a glimpse of a fang sparkling bright white. You stumbled back, hitting the brick wall behind you. 

“Where ya goin’?” he taunted, taking another step forward. You couldn’t make out the features, but they were distinctly demonic. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in, except you somehow skipped right past those and straight to “freeze”. You were entirely frozen in place, your limbs scrambling to decide the best path of action. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out here all alone.”

You darted to the right just as he closed in, immediately tripping over your own feet into the closest object, a dumpster. You turned on your heels to see his fangs bared fully, pearly and bright in the dark alley. 

You opened your mouth to scream, but the sound was suddenly dampened. A hand clamped over your mouth with a suffocating force. Before you could realize what was happening, you were shoved to your knees, skin scraping against the cold pavement. 

“Don’t move,” a voice hissed in your ear. San. You’d know that deep voice anywhere. You tried to choke out a few useless words, but your voice was helplessly muffled beneath the hand viced against your mouth. “Be quiet. I’m saving your life.”  

He shoved you by the shoulders behind a stack of large wooden crates next to the dumpster. You kept your head down, but you could make out their silhouettes in the dim light, although San’s figure blocked your eye line from getting a good view of the aggressor. 

"Low life," San growled, his words spitting out venomously. "What, you have nothing better to do than hunt humans? Pathetic." 

You heard the harsh, gritty tone of the figure speak, still veiled in the shadows. "San?" The figure laughed jovially. Something about it was incredibly unsettling. "What are you, some sort of human patrol? Or do you just want her for yourself?"  

"She's mine," he hissed. You couldn't see his face, but you could picture it twisting in anger from how maliciously he spat out his words. 

"Yours, huh? I know you like ‘em pure, but not enough to take another demon's prey."  

Was he implying you were still a virgin? But that wasn't—

"Leave," San snarled. "Before you make me do something we'll both regret." 

The figure took a step forward, unveiling himself in the light, though you could still barely make it out from behind the crates and with San’s figure blocking your view. 

“Fuck off. I was here first,” the demon spat.  

“I said… she’s mine.”

San lunged forward, but the demon dodged easily, throwing his fist forward to land a blow on San’s cheek. San shook his head furiously before moving to throw his own punch. 

The demon ducked to evade, but San anticipated it. His figure whipped around to the back of the demon, his body moving like a flash, almost as if he had phased out of reality. He swung his leg up with a fierce kick, sending the aggressor flying back into the alley wall, cracking the bricks in a cartoonish circle around him. You had no idea he could fight like that.

The demon faltered to his feet, shaking his limbs out casually like it was nothing. These demons were no joke—you wouldn’t have stood a chance running from him if San hadn’t been there. You’d be dead. 

The demon's mouth curled up into a snarl, baring his fangs ferociously as he lunged in San’s direction. San evaded easily, flashing around to his opponent’s side. 

“You’re clearly not very bright,” San taunted, delivering another kick to his core. The demon fell back again, lurching forward over his stomach with a pained gasp. He staggered against the wall, lifting his gaze to San closing in. 

San had him entirely cornered. His hand viced around the other demon’s throat, holding him in the air with a surprising display of strength. The demon’s feet scrambled hopelessly to find the concrete, dangling inches above the ground. Is that the kind of strength he was capable of? Holding up an entire body in the air as effortlessly as he would toasting a champagne glass? 

San shot a glance over his shoulder, black eyes glistening villainously under the dim lights. "Close your eyes, lamb. You're not gonna want to see this one. Trust me."

Your eyes squeezed together just in time for you to hear a sickening crack of bones snapping. Then complete, deafening silence for a moment.

You cracked one eye open as you heard his footsteps approaching you slowly. Your vision adjusted to see him knelt in front of you, seemingly surveying you for injury. 

"What the fuck was that?" you choked out. “Why was he—”

"He’s a rogue demon," he explained, shooting a deathly glare at the decapitated corpse. The sight was grisly, but somehow, the fact that the body wasn’t entirely human gave you some degree of solace. "Patrolling for souls. You’re an easy target. They can smell your pretty scent from a mile away."

You took another glance at the fresh corpse, stomach churning at the gruesome sight. His head was ripped cleanly off. Did San just do that with his bare hands? 

San gripped on to your forearm, squeezing hard. You noticed his hand shaking, just slightly. "C'mon. We need to go. Where there's one rogue, there's bound to be more. You smell like a walking piece of meat right now to them. If there's more, they know you're here." He tugged you to your feet. “Lead me to your apartment, okay darling? It’s close, hmm? Until then, you need to stay quiet. You talking—well, let’s just say it makes you easier to detect.”

You walked hesitantly but briskly the rest of the way to your apartment, legs shaking beneath you with every step. San kept a protective arm wrapped tightly around the small of your waist the whole way, but you couldn’t help but feel shaky. 

The minute you got home, all the questions you wanted to ask him flooded your brain. He guided you by the shoulders to the bedroom first, shutting the door behind you as if you had something to hide, despite being alone in the apartment. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you wouldn’t give him the chance.

“How did you find me?” you barked. “I haven’t summoned you in over a week. How did you know where I was?”

“I know,” he grumbled under his breath. Was he keeping track of the days like you were? You didn’t think he cared. “I’ve been, uh... I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” he responded, shifting his eyes to the side for a minute. Breaking eye contact wasn’t like him.

“You’ve been doing what? Like spying on me? I didn’t know demons could watch over humans like that. I thought you just came when you were called.”

“We can’t. We’re not like angels.”

“Angels? Ugh, never mind, not the point. So how did you—”

“I have some connections. It doesn’t really matter. The point is, I saved you back there. And you need to be more careful.”

You sighed. “What, so you care now?”

San nodded hesitantly. “I—I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I care a bit more than I should. About you.” His eyes drew up to yours, reeling you in like a magnetic pull. Except his gaze was less fierce than usual, just intense. Serious. 

“What are you trying to say?”

“I try to stay objective. About humans. It’s my job. Write contacts, steal souls. I’m not supposed to feel anything. And I’m certainly not supposed to alter fate to save one.”

Alter fate? Were you supposed to die tonight?

You paused. You were suddenly incredibly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, despite the implications of what he was saying. You were falling head first for him, but you couldn’t afford to have your heart broken. You were trying to move on. 

“Can you get me some water? My head is killing me,” you asked quickly, hoping you could change the subject when he came back.

He nodded, hoisting himself up from the edge of the bed, and came back with the glass, setting it on the night table gingerly. He was being uncomfortably gentle, and you weren’t exactly sure what to do with him. 

“I have a question,” you started hesitantly, using the lull in the conversation to move it elsewhere. “The demon. In the alley. He said I was pure. What did he mean? Because we—”

He gritted his teeth. “I’m not sure either. We certainly did do that, but I can smell it too, unmistakably. I’d know that scent anywhere. It’s driving me insane.”

“So I’m...”

“Still a virgin,” he finished. His tongue drew over his lip between the slight part of his teeth in thought. “I can only guess it’s because I’m not human. My body is, but only technically.” His eyes trained on you again, this time glimmering with a hint of desire. “Speaking of. Your smell is entirely distracting to me right now.”

He wasn’t the only one distracted. You hadn’t entirely forgotten what he looked like, of course, but you were still surprised every time you saw him. He looked hellishly attractive, glistening lightly with sweat, shirt clinging to his muscles tightly. You weren’t being subtle as you glanced at him up and down, practically drooling. You saw a familiar smirk twitch up on his lips, flashing and a brief display of fangs. “What’s that look for, lamb? Hmm? You look cute when you’re drooling over me.”

You shook your head, embarrassed. “Don’t you need to be going anyway?”

He leaned forward slightly, just enough to be able to reach you with his hand, brushing it along the cut of your jaw. “I wouldn’t feel right leaving you here tonight. Alone. If the rogues caught on to your scent, they’d be able to track you here.”

“But won’t you get in trouble without a contract?” 

“Who says we can’t make one now?” he asked, fixing his gaze directly with yours. He was right. You hadn’t really thought of that.  

“Alright, let’s say I asked you to guard me tonight. What do I give you in return?”

“Your body.” You paused, breath hitching in your throat as he dragged his fingernail along the skin of your neck again. “You’re free to decline but… I’m hoping you’d want to finish what we started as much as I do.” You glanced at your phone on the nightstand for a moment in thought, breaking eye contact, but he tipped your chin up to meet yours immediately. “What are you thinking about, darling, hm? That boy who gave you his number?”

“How did you—”

“I told you. I’ve been watching,” he explained with a charming smile. 

“Asshole. That’s creepy,” you grumbled through your teeth. It was creepy,  but another part of you couldn’t help but be flattered. 

“So, what do you say?” he asked eagerly, leaning in until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. 

You couldn’t deny, his body had been on your mind pretty much constantly since you’d seen him last. You craved the feeling of him inside of you again, the warm closeness of his skin pressed against yours, his hands exploring every inch of you. Most of all, you craved the hungry, insatiable way he looked at you, that made you feel desired in a way you’d never felt before.

“You’re not gonna choke me out again?” you teased, but you already knew your answer, pretty much either way. 

“No promises.” He winked charmingly, brushing his lips against yours. A tingle rocketed through your spine, the single fleeting taste of his lips the only incentive you needed for your next words.

“It’s a deal,” you confirmed, leaning into the feeling of his lips against yours. He pulled away with a teasing smirk. 

“Such a needy little human. Don’t get too eager, now. I like to have a little fun with my prey first.” He winked, flashing his fangs. You imagined them sinking into your skin, the sensation of his tongue dragging along your wound. You couldn’t believe how addicted you were to being a glorified blood donor for a sadistic house-demon. 

You whined a bit as he pulled away, breaking all contact with you. 

“San—” 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth mockingly. “Needy little thing. Don’t worry, we’ll have our fun tonight. On my terms, of course.”

He teased you mercilessly as you went about your night, brushing himself up against you in the kitchen, lingering his lips just over your skin as he spoke to you and pulling away right when you tried to make a move. The restraint he was exercising just to get a rise out of you was impressive, and you pretty much fell right in his trap. You were squirming at the mere idea of his touch, knees nearly buckling under you every time he brushed against you. You were going mad.

You were washing dishes in the kitchen after eating a quick midnight snack with him. Your drinking in the bar earlier had you hungry for whatever was around, and due to the quickly growing pain of arousal, you wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. 

You felt his hands around your waist first, pulling your back into him from behind, his lips littering feather-light kisses on the back of your neck. Your hair stood on end, goosebumps pilling up on your arms as he kissed so very lightly. He nipped lightly a few times at the surface of your skin, fangs grazing sharply against the nape of your neck, then moving down to your shoulders, pulling down the collar of your shirt to get better access. 

You felt him growing hard against you from behind, his rock hard bulge pressing into your ass. You wiggled against it, and he delivered a harsh bite to the skin of your shoulder blades, not daring to break skin yet.

“Don’t tease me, lamb,” he purred against your skin, administering a harsh slap to the side of your ass. You hissed at the sting, but you couldn’t help but tease him again to see his next move. You pushed your hips back with a stronger force now, rocking your ass up against the form of his dick through his pants. A low growl rolled through his throat. “Testing me, hmm? Someone’s getting brave.”

You felt his teeth sink into the flesh of the back of your neck, and you whimpered at the sudden pain. He lapped at it slowly, softly, seemingly savoring every taste. You whined as he drew his tongue across your skin. “So… how do I punish you? I told you we were on my terms,” he sang sweetly in your skin, almost menacingly.

His hand traveled from your waist to the waistband of your small pajama shorts, pushing his fingers down to tease you through the fabric of your panties. You couldn’t help but let out small pants and moans as he finally gave attention to the dripping wet neediness between your legs, but you still needed more. He circled his index finger around your clit excruciatingly slowly. The sensation of his tongue on your skin and his touch through your underwear was almost more painful than none at all. You squirmed and writhed under the touch you’d been craving all night, letting out breathy moans as all your arousal from the night compounded.

He flipped you around suddenly, your back making contact with the cold counter. He lifted your shirt off, and you fumbled with the hem of his shirt, grasping desperately as you tried to remove it from his head. He smirked against your lips as he picked you up by the hips, hoisting you up like you weighed nothing. You clawed at him desperately to keep your balance as he led you to the bedroom, tossing you back on your bed like a toy. He stripped himself fully, his dick springing out from his pants excitedly. 

His eyes trained on your body hungrily as he crawled over you. “We’re playing by my rules today. Be a good girl, okay?”

You nodded, eagerly accepting whatever terms he had in order to feel him against you. You weren’t quite expecting his next words, though.

“You don’t cum unless I tell you to. And trust me, darling. You don’t want to know what happens if you disobey.” His lips twitched into a sadistic smile, marveling at your body as he kissed down torturously slow. He ripped your shorts, then your underwear, teasing his tongue and lips over your thighs for a while as you squirmed. Then, finally, giving you what you desired most. His tongue against your clit, warm and wet, washing you over with immediate pleasure like you’d never felt before.  

The sensation of his tongue against you was almost more than you could handle, and you were practically writhing and thrashing at the sensitivity. Heat rose in your core, flooding through your whole body. Your every nerve felt like it was on fire. He worked his tongue devilishly, leaving no part of your pussy untouched, dancing it along your clit like it was his only reason for existing. His tongue practically worshipped you, and you ate up the soft moans and growls that escaped him. His eyes were darker, but not fully consumed with black yet, as he glanced up from between your legs for only a moment, before going back in hungrily.

It was getting harder, nearly impossible actually, to keep your body from rocking itself into orgasm. It built inside you, a knot twisting at the base of your stomach, ready to burst at any moment. “San, please can I—”

“Cute. Begging. It won’t get you anywhere, darling,” he sang mockingly, his hot breaths washing over you. 

“Please—” Tears spilled over in your eyes, pouring down your cheeks as the sensations intensified seemingly exponentially. “Please please please,” you pleaded, not caring how desperate you sounded. You couldn’t take it. 

“There are those pretty, pretty tears,” he cooed. “Keep crying for me baby, then maybe I’ll consider letting you cum.”

Not that you had a choice, but you obeyed. The tears came and came as you thrashed under him, holding yourself back so much that you ached. You’d never been so restrained, for a moment you even wondered if this is what San felt like every day when holding back his urges.

He came up from between your legs for a moment to lick the salty tears from your face, dragging a fingernail under your chin. You squirmed needily under him, and although you knew begging wouldn’t get you anywhere, you felt you had no choice. 

“San—”

“Yes, lamb?” He met your eyes, and you could barely keep them open with the overwhelming sensations. 

“Please, I need you to… please. I can’t take it anymore.”

His wet tongue slid over your cheek, lingering his fangs over for a moment, then came up to meet your gaze. “Fine. I’ve had my fun for now, I suppose. But keep crying for me, mmkay? You’re cute when you’re helpless.”

He made his way back down, torturing his lips over every inch of your shoulders, breasts, stomach, hips, until finally settling between your legs again. The first brush of his tongue was nearly enough to send you over the edge, but you held out for a few moments, letting him get your completely riled up again. 

His fingers found their way inside you, only pumping a few times before you were completely putty in his hands. You shook as the orgasm rocked through you violently. San gripped your hips tightly as you thrashed, keeping you steady. You’d never cum so hard in your life, even when picturing San while you worked your vibrator. Somehow, he was ten times better. A million times, even. 

“Good girl,” he praised, stroking your stomach for a few moments before going back in with his tongue. You couldn’t control your hips from bucking violently as he lapped at your folds, completely drenched from your orgasm. You cried out—the sensitivity was almost too much to bear. “Now be a good girl for me and cum again.” 

“Ah—sensitive—” you whined, thrashing against his hands holding you down. You felt him smirk against you, indicating he knew exactly what he was doing. It took him barely even a few minutes to work you into your second orgasm, whimpering and shaking as you came down. Tears leaked from your eyes, some left over from your original bout, some fresh from the overstimulation. He came back up to lick them off your cheeks with a satisfied grin. 

“Good little lamb,” he purred. You loved his praise, even if it had a condescending sting to it, it felt so amazing dripping like honey in your ears. 

You were surprised how well he was keeping himself together, unlike your previous sexual encounter with him, where he’d completely lost control to his demon instincts. His eyes were darker than usual, a deep, sinister blood red, but not black. Nowhere near. That was a part of him you wished you didn’t have to see again.

You writhed under his touch as he swiped a finger between your folds, testing your wetness. “I’ll try to be gentle for this one,” he growled. “No promises.” 

“Fuck me, please,” you breathed against his lips, bringing your hand down to guide the tip of his dick right between your legs. 

He thrust in slowly at first, taking his time adjusting to every small movement. He shook as you watched his eyes flicker to black for a moment, then back to red, again to black, then red, as if he was fighting with himself. He pushed all the way in this time, bottoming out inside of you. You cried out, experiencing such complete fullness for the first time. He wasn’t enormous, in fact you’d say his cock was just the perfect size, but he was much bigger than any toy you’d ever used. 

“Fuck, those pretty little noises are gonna drive me crazy,” he growled lustfully, thrusting out and then in again fully. You threw your head back in pleasure, taking in every sensation of him stretching you out, his dick hitting exactly the right curves inside you, places you didn’t even realize he could reach. 

He fisted his hands in the sheets beside your head as he thrust in and out, alternating slow and fast in a way that made your head spin completely. He kept eye contact with you the entire time, the same hungry and magnetic gaze he always had, except there was something beneath the surface this time. Something softer, almost loving. You didn’t have a mind for romance now, though. 

Your mind could only process the feeling of him inside you. His fingernails dug into the sheets with so much force you swore they were going to rip to shreds in his grip. He latched his teeth onto your neck forcefully, drawing blood. At the same time, you felt him lurch inside of you, shaking and growling as he spilled out inside you. Warm cum dripped around his dick as he slid out slowly, and there was another warm sensation you could make out—blood spilling from your neck. 

“San—San—towel, now,” you demanded anxiously, the two dripping fluids making you feel a bit uneasy. He took care of the cum first, wiping it off the blanket, then lapped his tongue on your wound a few times before sticking a bandage on it. Where did he get that, anyway?

“You’re a mess,” he commented teasingly, a cheeky flash of fangs dancing up on his lips. 

“Yeah, thanks to you,” you grumbled, running your palm over the bandages securing your bite marks. “I can’t believe you didn’t… y’know.”

“Lose it?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Trust me darling, it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Your taste is especially intoxicating. Your pussy tastes even better than your blood, somehow.”

You laughed at the unexpected compliment. It felt weird for such a hot guy to be talking to you about the taste of your pussy at 2am. A demon, no less. You almost felt embarrassed in his gaze, despite just fucking so intensely. You were suddenly incredibly self-conscious about your naked body as he watched you. You wrapped yourself in your hands, shrinking down slightly as you concealed your body from his gaze. 

“Hey, stop that,” he said firmly. “Why are you hiding? Your body is incredible. I’d say you look like an angel, but we kinda hate those where I’m from.” He smiled gently. “But you do look divine.”

Heat rose through your cheeks, staining them red. He’d always complimented your smell, your taste—he’d never praised your body before. You motioned towards the closet, and he tossed you a shirt reluctantly. You threw it quickly over your head, still feeling bashful despite his nice comment. 

You fell asleep shortly after getting cleaned up, tucked neatly into your bed by your sweet house-demon.

Demons, you learned, didn’t need sleep, despite their human need for practically everything else—food, massages, sex. You had forgotten for a moment why he was even there in the first place, the sex having completely over-ridden the events of the day beforehand. You forgot all about being potentially in danger, your mind only filled with thoughts of San.

He sat by your side all night, or so you knew from what he told you the next morning. He said you were cute when you sleep. His lamb. The idea of him watching over you protectively all night made your heart ache, in a way both good and bad. You weren’t sure if you could say it for sure yet, but you were falling in love with him. 

But it could never work between you. It was too good to be true. It had to be.