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seijorhi · 4 years ago

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Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness.

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in.

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t.

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess?

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good.

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that.

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time.

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious.

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes.

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety?

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore.

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time.

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He’s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives.

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect.

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable.

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly.

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion.

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone.

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in.

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair.

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least.

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does.

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries.

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you.

He needs this.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere akaashi #yandere akaashi keiji #yandere akaashi keiji x reader #tw blood #tw violence #tw murder #slasher-ish vibes #tw dub con #just a little #not super proof read because it's 3:30 in the morning

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years ago

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(same anon) So since I finally found someone who writes for Zardy, I wanna request a quiet, yet bold reader with him (gender-neutral please). So basically friends at their high-school dared them to stay at the cornfield until morning comes since they're a brave one. So while wandering around in the corn, they run into Zardy and don't show any fear. How would he react to their emotion and why they're here? Also, call me "Warlock Anon"

“Has nothing ever actually scared you, [y/n]?”

“Eh, nope.” You shrugged nonchalantly, sitting with your group of friends during lunchtime.

Everyone had just finished their food, so you were talking about anything that came to mind until it was time for class.

One subject that was brought up was your bravery, especially when it comes to scary things. Sure, you were quiet one, but you were also known to be fearless, even walking through the school’s haunted house without flinching.

But while Halloween had only recently passed, your friends believed you could be scared in another way.

“Say..” One of them finally spoke up, making you turn your attention to them. “You know about that one haunted cornfield, “Zardy’s Maze” as they call it? It’s waaaay out in the middle of nowhere.”

Their smirk had you suspicious, but curiosity won over. “I do..go on...” You nodded.

“I hear people have gone there to chop down those giant flowers...but something is stalking them, making sure they never succeed at their task.” They whispered in a creepy storytelling way. “Rumor has it that a scarecrow comes to life every night to protect its crops. A few other monsters roam about, but no one has faced this guy and lived to tell the tale. Some say it even uses its victims as fertilizer-”

Although your friends had mixed reactions over this ghost story, you were still intrigued by the scarecrow, who you assumed was “Zardy”.

As soon as they were done talking about it, they proposed a dare to you:

You spend one night in the maze and see if the legends of Zardy’s reapings were true.

You decided to accept it right away, figuring that it would be thrilling--under the condition that they got you all the supplies you needed for the night. They were surprised that you accepted the dare so quickly.

But then again..

You were the bravest among them.

............

“It’s just one night..” You kept telling yourself as you curled up in the sleeping bag, checking your watch as the minutes ticked by.

So far you’ve been here for only a few hours, not doing much of anything except looking out for the scarecrow and eating snacks. But you were more bored than afraid, if anything.

Trying to sleep in a musty old barn wasn’t why you accepted the dare. You wanted to see this scarecrow in the flesh--or hay, rather.

You got up and grabbed your flashlight, along with a sickle to defend yourself and cut crops with. You remembered your friend saying that Zardy would disappear if light was shined on him.

Thank goodness you kept that important mental note.

Soon enough you began exploring the maze. Fortunately the cornstalks weren’t so tall that you couldn’t see where the barn was, so you didn’t have to worry about getting lost or making a trail back. You did hear something rustling around, as well as strange rattling noises, but you figured it was just a few critters.

There were a few pumpkins with carved faces on the trail. You weren’t sure if they were from some previous fall-fest, though you pressed on regardless.

“It’s dangerous to wander in the dark, you know.”

Hearing a hoarse whisper from behind, you immediately spun around, coming face-to-face with a tall scarecrow dressed in black, with brown gloves, a witch hat, and a jack o’lantern for a head. In his grasp was a garden hoe; oddly enough it had a microphone attached to the opposite end.

A soft yellow light glowed within his triangular sockets as he stared down at you, waiting for your next move.

But despite seeing the legendary scarecrow right in front of you, ready to kill you at any time, you were simply awestruck.

Even now you weren’t afraid in the slightest.

Zardy seemed to have read your expression, as he tilted his head. “Well..this is certainly a first. Usually trespassers scream or run...or rudely shine their light in my face...or try to chop down my precious flowers.” He gestured to a nearby giant plant. “You’re not here to do any of that, are you?”

“No.” Once you found your voice, you nodded politely, offering him a smile back. In hopes that he believed you, you turned off your flashlight. “I..came here on a dare. Just spending the night in the barn.”

“...I see.” He hummed, leaning on his weapon. “You kids and your little “dares”. You think you’re so brave, but you’re naïve to the horrors that lie within my maze.”

You could tell he was trying to intimidate you, but the way he worded that just made you laugh. "Pfffft, haha.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Did you mean to rhyme like that? I’m sorry but it just made me laugh.” You chuckled. “It’s..fascinating to meet you, Zardy.”

Fascinating.

That certainly wasn’t the word any normally frightened human would use to describe him.

But because Zardy didn’t see any point in killing someone who wasn’t frightened at all..he accepted your compliment. And as thanks, he decided to guide you through the maze, helping you avoid monsters such as “Rattlers” that lurked in the cornfields.

You two had lost track of time, only realizing it was dawn as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Unfortunately Zardy knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay with you much longer--he was invisible to all during the daytime.

Yet somehow..he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time he met you.

Before you returned to the barn, he gave you a jack o’lantern with a lit candle inside as a “reward” for your bravery. But when you looked back up to thank him, he vanished right before your eyes.

Sometime after that your friends picked you up on the side of the road, baffled that you didn’t even look the least bit traumatized.

When they asked how you survived the night, you just smiled and answered:

“A friendly scarecrow helped me.”

#clanask #warlock anon #fnf x reader #friday night funkin x reader #fnf zardy x reader #zardy x reader #zardy's maze x reader

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beskarberry · 4 years ago

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Silver and Steel

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 2 (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

It was then you noticed the open wall next to you. The steel panel was slid open to reveal a vault packed corner to corner with more firepower than you had ever seen in one place. Your eyes roamed from blaster to rifle to flamethrower, noticing that not all of them were made for five fingered hands. This wasn't just an armory, it was a trophy case.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 7.5k

Content warnings: ALOT. Descriptions of violence (a little spicier than canon) blood mention, near death experiences, hurt/COMFORT, fluff, smut exhaustion sex, top!reader.

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it but yeah PLEASE READ THOSE CONTENT WARNINGS!! It all works out ok in the end! Also good chunks of this was inspired by a particular filk song called Call the Navigator which I’ll link in the replies so the external link doesn’t ef up my post.

<-Previous Next->

"Med pack... junk....junk....spotchka?....is that all you've got?"

You were bent over a deep supply crate, your legs barely touching the ground while you dug through what you had hoped would be the food stock. There were several banged up tins of rations and a handful of miscellaneous junk, but nothing that looked real food. You were clean and dry after your shower, but the energy that had been spent in this very supply room just an hour or so earlier had to be replenished. "Where’s the rest of it?"

The silence coming from the cockpit was expected, but still frustrating. With a huff you grabbed two food tins and made your way through the old ship towards the ladder. At the top though a small antechamber you found your new comrade seated in the pilot chair, fussing with the buttons on the console. On either side and slightly behind his chair were two other passenger seats, though the one on his left was missing a good deal of padding. The cockpit was poorly lit save for the lighted console and the dusty starlight overhead. Though you were in the air, you could tell you were still on Tatooine. Hooray. Why are we still here? The great Dune Sea stretched out on all sides, sparsely dotted with sand people villages, but you couldn’t see any of the large space ports such as Mos Eisley or Mos Espa. In the ships’ darkness you couldn't tell what the lumpy thing was in the other chair, probably blankets or laundry. You went to toss it off the seat when a pair of huge black orbs peeped out from the heap of fabric.

"The fuck is THAT?!" You rocketed backwards, dropping the food tins in the process. The bug eyed creature made a soft cooing noise and lifted the rest of the blanket off itself, allowing two gigantic green ears to pop into view. It didn't look like a threat, in fact it looked kinda cute, but you knew it could still be dangerous. A pair of stubby three-fingered hands made grabby motions at you, the little creature giggling at your bewildered face. " Where'd you find this thing, is it some kind of pet?"

"He's not a pet." Finished fiddling with the console, Mando turned in his chair to readjust the blanket that had slumped off of the small beastie. It squealed happily and wiggled in its comfy cocoon before noticing the food tins that were still on the floor. He pointed the tiniest claw at them and chirped at you, demanding to be fed. "You'd better give him one of those before he gets mad."

It took you a moment to process what he said before scooping one of the tins off the floor, peeling back the lid and placing the dish in the seat next to the little thing. He greedily scooped the mystery mash into his tiny toothy mouth, gibbering between bites. You picked the remaining tin off the floor and leaned against the door frame, watching it happily chow down.

"If it's not a pet then what is it?"

"He's my..." the Mandalorian paused, fishing for the right words to say, "...he is my child."

That was not at all the answer you expected, if he had said emotional support gremlin you would have been less confused. The baby was still making a mess of his dinner, almost dropping his plate before Mando snatched it and set it carefully back in his lap. You had seen first hand that there was a human under all that metal plating, and your tired brain fizzled trying to make the connection between the two very different beings. Mando could tell by your puzzled face that he had some explaining to do.

He told you the tale of how he had been charged to bring the baby in as a high credit bounty, but after he used the reward to get new armor he went back and stole the child away from its captors. He talked about the Mandalorian concept of a 'foundling' and that he himself was one too. At some point you had popped your food tin open and started eating, though you were so captivated by his story that you couldn't remember doing so. When he'd finished you set your empty dish on the busted chair and gently held your hand out for the child to grab with one mush covered paw, who babbled excitedly at his new friend.

Behind you his parental guardian was rigid, ready to take you out if you made one wrong move against his precious cargo. Though he had been the one to steal you away and forgo freezing you in carbonite he still didn’t exactly trust you, your reputation as a hunter-killer was what had driven your bounty so high. He knew you were disarmed, but what else could you be capable of? However, you weren't paying mama-hen Mando any mind. Instead you let the baby play with your hand a bit before he returned to his food. You decided that the only place left to sit was on the floor. Squished into the tiny space between the passenger and pilot seats was cramped, but it gave you a fantastic view out the rounded transperisteel window into the vastness of the night sky.

“Your story sounds awful familiar.” You turned your attention to the metal clad man, watching him fidget with the steering controls. “You abandoned a guild reward for anothers wellbeing, like I did. Someone that didn’t deserve to be dragged back in cuffs. Is that why you picked up the puck on me? Some kind of kindred spirit something or other?”

“We’re nothing alike.” He was watching out the window, focused on flying the ship to unknown destinations, but he was bouncing the leg farthest away from you. So when the cogwheels turn in your head, the machine moves somewhere else. If you hadn’t experienced his human body first hand you could have easily convinced yourself he was a droid.

“Now that’s not true. You told the guild to get fucked because your moral compass was pointing the other way. I didn't just let that quarry go y'know? It was more than that. There was... there was someone she had to get back to. And the New Republic was just gonna lock her ass up and for what? It wasn't right." You remembered that Togruta woman, pointing a blaster at you with tears in her eyes and her belly swollen with a child that did not belong to the man she was being forced to marry. A few thousand credits weren’t worth another child being made an orphan, and you gave her your ship to escape in while you led hunters on a wild-bantha chase away from her. You knew it drove the guild insane but you wouldn’t have it any other way. A tiny green foot poked itself out from under the blankets by your head, bringing you out of your reverie. On reflex you tucked it back into the safety of his blankies.

Though you thankfully didn’t remember much of your early childhood, you knew you had come from Corellia. You didn’t know if you had parents or siblings, but there had been many other young street urchins in your alley behind the shipyard, and all you had then were each other. You never planned on having any kids yourself, but they were still something to be protected. At all costs, if necessary. “I’m guessing this little dude is happy with that decision.”

Mando had begun to take the ship closer to the ground, it was almost totally dark outside but you could see on the radar there was a large mountainous formation up ahead. Carefully, he landed the beat up craft on a sturdy outcropping of rocks, kicking up whirlwinds of dust and sand. Far out over the sand you could see a collection of lumpy looking ruins that were slowly succumbing to the march of the dunes. You guessed this was where your quarry was hiding out.

The baby was starting to get sleepy, his huge eyes disappearing slowly as the weight of his eyelids became too much. His little head rolled forward, threatening to toss him off his seat. Your big mean bounty hunter heart couldn’t take it, so you scrambled to your feet and scooped the baby up in your arms, sitting down in his seat to get him situated in your lap. He fussed and squirmed a bit, but you had learned a no-fail trick from the Corellian ship builders that would often help to sneak orphaned children onto their ships and off that skughole of a planet towards a better life. Many years ago they had done the same for you.

“Oh, I have sailed the midnight sea from Hoth to Arvala-5.

Seen the Cloudshape Falls of Alderaan, met rocks that were alive.

But soon I came to realize as world to world I roamed,

That nowhere in the galaxy could really be my home.”

The songs you knew were often sang by whole crews of starship sailors, loud enough to shake their durasteel walls, but you dropped your voice low and soft to turn the star-shanty into a lullaby. The baby was watching you with glittering eyes, he had stopped his wiggling and curled up tightly against your chest.

“So call the navigator, set the course and go!

We've stars and planets to explore, my wild heart tells me so.

Beneath the metal decking I can hear the engine sigh

And all I need is a mighty ship and a staaaa-aarr to guide her by”

A tiny yawn betrayed his wondrous eyes, and he gave up and closed them shut, rubbing his little hands on his face. You lowered your voice to almost a whisper.

“I've seen a million beauties and I've known a million fears,

And life is what I've found between the laughter and the tears.

Still I will sail the last frontier through worlds both tame and wild,

And marvel at their strangeness with the wonder of a child”

Soft snores were your only applause, the baby having drifted off mid stanza. You hummed a few more lines of the song to be sure he was asleep. The cockpit was as dark as the surrounding sky, but the glint of silver caught your attention. Starlight reflected off the beskar plates in a way that made the black of his visor seem darker than the heart of a collapsed star, and just as deadly. The Mandalorian was watching you intently, completely motionless.

The precious moment with the baby had made you very forgetful of the dangerous situation you were actually in. You had been captured, you were this man’s prisoner and yet here you were all cozy in the chair with his adopted son in your lap. You glared back at him, matching his fierce gaze when the little green bundle moved to get more comfortable, one tiny hand catching claws in the top you were wearing; a tunic that did not belong to you.

“Here, you take him then.” Your voice was hushed so as not to wake the child, and you raised him up gently to try and unhook him from your shirt. Immediately there were two gloved hands coming to lift the baby off of your lap. He was a monolith of leather and metal, but the way he pulled his son in close was so gentle that all the ferocity of his profession dissipated like mist. Mando carefully tucked the blanket under the sleeping little baby and wrapped him up tight before slowly turning away from you and the flight deck to head down the ladder in total silence, leaving you alone in the dark.

You watched him go, the top of his shiny silver head disappearing into the floor. Without the sounds of life in the cockpit the quiet of the night weighed heavy on your ears. He still hadn’t told you why he had kept you out of the carbonite, all you had done was let him use you as his personal play-thing... and maybe murder off some of his bounty hunting competition, but that wasn’t much to go off of. You had done worse for much less. Put your skills to better use, that’s what he had said. Absently you toyed with the end of your sleeve, no, not your sleeve. His sleeve.

That was another thing, what reason did he have to show you hospitality when his first interaction with you had been so violent? Binding you and marching your ass through the desert after he had fucking shot you. Your escape plan had almost worked, ha! All you would’ve had to do is tire him out and run but that had backfired entirely. The apex of your thighs still thrummed with sensation, warm and blissful. Though you’d had lovers in the past you usually didn’t still feel them so deeply afterwards. The smell of the fresher soap still clung to your body and clothes. Clutching at the collar of your sweater you pulled it to your face and breathed deep, letting the heady scent of it fill your lungs.

“Let’s go. We have work to do.” The modulated voice coming from the ladder startled you from your guilty indulgence and sprang you to your feet, but the source of the voice was already back down the ladder. You sheepishly followed suit.

“You plan on telling me what we’re up to exactly?” Down below the Mandalorian was loading himself with ammunition, each and every slot on his many bandoliers was packed to the brim with charges. His pulse rifle was slung over one shoulder, clanking up against a new piece of equipment you hadn’t seen before. Some kind of jet pack maybe.

“I have two bounties to catch on Tatooine. One of them conveniently fell into a sarlacc pit. The other one's hiding out down there." A bounty fob blinked red in his hand; quick flashes indicated that the target was close by. “If you help me with this, you’re off the hook. I’ll tell Karga you’re dead and the guild will stop sending hunters after you. But-” He turned to face you, he was holding your beat-up old back pack by one ratty leather strap. "If for one second I think you'll turn against me, I'll take the half credits for your corpse."

"You're one to talk!" You hissed, storming up to the gunslinger with the ferocity of a lothcat. "You kidnapped me! I didn't ask to be here."

The man in question didn't budge under your verbal assault. "Do we have a deal or not?"

He forced your backpack into your arms to accentuate his point. You ripped it from his grasp and stormed to the other side of the cabin. Everything was still inside; a pack of bacta patches, a few mementos, three busted tracking fobs and some blaster charges. Speaking of blaster-

"Where’s my gun, Mando?" Your question was answered when you turned back to face him. He was holding it by its barrel, extending the grip towards you. You met his visor with contempt, but took the old blaster from him carefully as not to cause a misfire. It would be nice to not be on the run from a guild you had pledged your loyal services to for so many years, that now wanted you delivered back to them in carbonite; and you knew that Karga would trust his favorite hunter. The life of a moisture farmer wasn’t what you dreamed of when you escaped Corellia. Fuck that. "Yeah, it's a deal. One hunt and I'm gone."

If he didn't want you to ogle his wares he should have closed the panel, but instead he joined you at the wall, picking up some extra plasma cartridges and a vibroblade with a curved handle, which he pushed into your hands. "Will that be enough?"

Either you trust me or you don't, pick a side, tin can. You didn't answer him right away, opting to pull a chest holster and another couple of blasters down from the wall. You cinched the holsters tight and tucked a blaster in on either side, slung a disruptor over your back and stuffed the knife in your boot. Once you had everything in place you stuck your fists on your hips like a superhero with a confidant nod. "Yeah, that should be good."

Mando was watching you with intensity, his visor going over each of your weapon choices. He tugged on your holsters’ cross straps to make sure they were secured. You rolled your eyes at him, "I know how to dress myself, sir."

No answer. Typical. He stopped fussing with your straps and turned back to the wall, selecting a heavy multi-ammo bandolier. He stepped closer to you, wrapping both arms around your waist to fit the belt in place on your hips. You tried to convince yourself that it was the cool beskar of his chest plate pressed up against you that sent a shiver down your spine. The physical contact was over as quickly as it had been initiated, and then he was back in the vault fishing out the tiny silver explosives that fit neatly into the circular latches on either side of your belt, handing them to you without a word. Finished with his selection he pressed a few buttons on his vambrace, one to slide the armory shut and another to summon an egg-shaped hover crib to float to his side. Inside its shell the child was sound asleep, a heart-melting smile on his tiny little face. As adorable as he was, you furrowed your brow in confusion.

“Is he coming too?”

“Where I go, he goes.” Mando said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He strode back to the supply crate you had been digging through earlier and packed a handful of rations into a bag for the journey through the dunes. Cool desert air gusted into the stuffy cabin as the access ramp fell open, and the three of you headed out into the darkness of Tatooine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your dreams were hazy and feverish, shots of blaster fire flickered through the fog from unknown assailants. The smell of blood and blast plasma strong in your nose even while unconscious. You saw the sneering face of a Twi’lek twist in agony and purple blood painted his face before he winked out of existence, replaced in your mindscape with bloody hands. Your hands. Then there was cold beskar on your cheek and strong arms hauling you from the carnage. Harsh wind in your ears and the ground spiraling away beneath you. The howling wind so loud you couldn't hear the questions being barked in your face. Pain, the smell of burning skin, then nothing. You felt objects moving frantically nearby, and something soft and green was pressing into your ribs. Your eyes, heavy as they were, fluttered open to see two huge black orbs staring up from your side where bright red blood was staining the sheets under you. Is that ... my blood?

“Hey green bean...what’cha up to?” Your voice was hoarse and weak, scratching its way out reluctantly past chapped lips. Talking made your head pound, you reached up to cradle your aching skull when two leather tipped hands caught yours and held them steady.

“Easy... Don’t move too much. Please.” Your hands were gently set back down at your sides, shooting pain up your arms. A large black and silver body was hunched beside you, frantically sticking bacta patches to your skin.

“Mand...do? What…what happened?” Your voice was barely a whisper, so faint the recycled air of the cabin threatened to whisk it away.

“You got the bastard, but that fucking Twi' managed to get a shot off in your gut point blank before he went down. You shouldn't have survived that but you did.” Is that a compliment? He was wrapping a long gauze bandage around your arm, fixing the bacta patches in place so they could do their thing. It hurt, but not as much as you thought it should have. Down by your side the child had rolled into you face first, passed out cold next to an emergency cauterizer. Mando nodded at his sleeping son, “And if it wasn’t for him, you’d be dead for sure.”

The baby? How is he involved with this? Thoughts echoed loudly in your skull, and you decided that thinky time was over. The little guy had the right idea, you should sleep now, embrace the comfort of the dark behind your eyes, let it swallow you whole.

“Hey hey hey! Not yet. Stay with me, ok? You need to drink something. Here.” An armored hand slid under your head, urging you to sit up just enough to take a drink out of the metal canteen pressed against your lips. “You need to stay awake, just for a little while.” Cool water graced your dry mouth and dripped onto your chin. Embarrassed by your mess you tried to wipe the droplets away but once again your arms were halted in place. A rough piece of fabric dabbed at your face.

“I’m not a baby, Mando. I can take care of myself.” The creeping sting of blast-burn that still scalded your skin told you that might not be true. The bacta was just starting to seep into your bloodstream, but it would take some time to work its magic.

“I know that. I was with you down there in the fray. A rancor would have been less terrifying to face than you. But right now I need you to hold still.”

Another compliment? Or was that sarcasm? You’re losing your edge, tin man. You tried to roll your eyes but the effort made your head spin; you glanced around the cabin, trying to avoid meeting the visor that was pinning you to the cot. Strewn about the floor of the ship was what was left of your holsters and weapons, splattered with red and purple blood. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked like one belt had been blasted to smithereens, torn strips of leather the only indication it had been there at all. Farther away you saw a dark block in the carbonite freezer. The Twi’lek from your nightmare was frozen solid, though from his limp posture you guessed he had stopped moving long before he was put in the chamber. One of his long lekku had been cut clean off, and even in carbonite you could see the wound was fresh. Something long and curved stuck victoriously out of the center of his chest. Your vibroblade, lodged to the hilt in his sternum.

Mando was still kneeling on the floor by your side, and though you couldn’t see his face his hunched shoulders gave you the feeling that he was distraught. He still had your head resting in his palm, his thumb absently toying with your hair. Maybe it was the bacta running through your system that made you start to feel warm and gooey on the inside, but the sensation of his hand on your scalp felt... nice. Nice to be touched in a way that wasn't just for survival. Though you had already felt his hands on your body this was something else entirely. Sincere. Maybe it was just the first time somebody near you wasn't trying to kill or capture you. You foolish girl, you've already been captured. Are you so lonely that a gentle touch makes you melt? Maybe it's you that's losing your edge.

"You should have left me for dead, cashed in on that half credit reward."

"That is not The Way." His mantra was rehearsed, spoken as easily as he drew breath, but you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“Well... thank you for not letting me bleed out.” You could see the top of the baby's green little noggin still curled up against your side, though the part of your ribs he was leaning on didn’t have a single mark. You looked for the blast wound that Mando was supposedly talking about, but aside from a handful of plasma burns your skin was smooth and healthy; the pool of dried blood under you was the only indication anything had been there at all. What kind of mando magic is that? And what did he mean about the child? Your first thought was how disappointed you were there wouldn’t be a good scar. Your second was realizing your top was missing. Shreds of it were still on your shoulders, but the front had been ripped off completely to get to your vanished wounds. Mando seemed like he didn’t even care, he had been so focused on patching you up that the idea of modesty was thrown out the window, but you couldn’t help teasing him. “There’s not a scratch on me, Mando. You just wanted me topless, didn’t you?”

His thumb on your scalp froze, his visor going from your face to your chest with rapid snaps. Without letting your head drop he used his other hand to tear his cloak from his back and throw it over you and the sleeping baby. “Better?”

Party pooper. “Yes, thank you.” Why is he being so nice? He must have ulterior motives, right? Why keep me alive if not to cash in on that bounty? You decided to push his buttons some more. “This bed sucks. Is this why you're so crotchety? Because you sleep on this Maker-forsaken thing? It’s making my back hurt.”

The cot you were on was spartan at best, more of a cloth covered bucket than a bed. It was recessed into the wall opposite of the armory, bits of machinery and droid parts hanging over the space above you. There wasn’t much of a gap between your head and the durasteel plating of the ship’s hull. Your teasing was rewarded with a long, tired sigh. The hand that cushioned your head moved down to your shoulders, pushing on you so that you sat up straight. You scooped the baby off of your side and into your arms, trying to ignore the dried blood from your wounds that stained the sheets before swaddling the sleeping bean in his father’s cloak. The metal man rose from the floor, letting go of you just long enough to remove his cross-belts and unlatch his chest plate, setting them on the floor with a dull thunk. He squished himself between the wall and your back, his dorsal plate scraping loudly without its cape. He scooched one armored leg around you until it was between your hip and the wall on your side, pulling you into his lap and turning his whole body into a pillow, letting your torso rest on his. He was used to the sharp metal bed frame, but that didn’t mean you should be subjected to it.

“Is this ok?”

You could only nod, your cheeks flushing red with a mix of emotions. It was more than ok, his formidable body was warm and comfortable. His arms wrapped around your waist, helping to support not only you but also his foundling. The spice of him was strong now with him on your back, worn leather and metal and that damn fresher soap that was making a fool out of you. Underneath his steady breathing the sound of something rhythmic caught your attention, it was quick and faint, but unmistakably the sound of his heartbeat. His heart is racing. Listen to that engine purr.

Behind you a man with a name you may never know watched your chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, not with lust but something unfamiliar though not unwelcome. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, whether from the ordeal of keeping you alive or the fact that you were in his arms again he couldn't be sure. He sighed, trying to convince himself to calm down, but the deep breath he took only flooded his senses with the essence of you, threatening to melt the beskar off his head with the heat rushing to his face. He couldn't help the way his fingers traced over your skin, careful not to undo any of the bacta patches. He jumped slightly when your hands found his, but the weight of the child still in your arms made it difficult to reach your fingers. The glove you were touching was suddenly empty, and a bare hand snaked out from under the cloak that kept you modest. With the press of a button the child’s pram floated its way over to you from the supply crates. The baby’s adopted father carefully lifted the sleeping creature off your lap and into his hover crib, another button press on the vambrace and the shield door slid closed.

His hand returned to the safety of the cloak, pulling the other glove off before finding your fingers again. His skin was so warm you couldn't help but imagine his hands somewhere more intimate. Evil, evil bacta... Maybe you wouldn't have to.

"I should thank you properly." It was impossible to hide the tiredness of your voice, but he was close enough you only needed to whisper. His grasp tightened around you, your once plush pillow was now a rigid wall of muscle.

"You should go to sleep." the sound of his baritone words so close to your ear made your skin prickle. Too late for that. Slowly you guided his hand down your belly until your tangled hands bumped into your belt line. A low growl rumbled out of the modulator. “Cyar'ika... you need to rest."

The alien term of endearment made you hum, but you ignored his words of warning and pushed his hand under the tough fabric till his fingertips found your heat, both of you gasping softly at first contact. His free hand fumbled with your button, and after some difficulty you undid it for him along with the zipper. With space to work, with his wrist moved freely, lazily rolling a calloused fingertip against your clit; remembering his lesson from the first time he experienced your body, his touch was light as a feather.

There wasn’t much you could do for him in the position you were in, so you leaned back against him and relaxed, letting him enjoy you at his own pace. The bottom of his helmet was pressed into the crook of your neck, and though it was sharp you could feel something warm and soft underneath it. So there is a real man under there. Scruffy stubble brushed at your skin and sent goosebumps down your chest. Under the beskar his eyes followed the prickling trail that lead under the tattered cloak you still wore to your breasts, watching the way the fabric pointed where your nipples grew hard for him. His other hand couldn’t resist finding its way to your pert peaks, rolling them between his fingers in that way he knew flushed you with heat. Soft gasps rewarded his ears as he worked at your breast and clit, rubbing them in tandem. Your hips rolled into one hand and your back arched into the other, urging him to help you build your climax. He obliged, adding a second finger to pinch your clit softly between strong digits until you fell apart around him.

The pressure that was building behind you and pressing into your spine told you that if you wanted more from him you would have to give him a better angle. You started to get up, but the hands on your sensitive spots held you in place.

“What about your injuries? I don’t want to hurt you.” What injuries? There’s nothing left! His voice was filled with sincerity, a far cry from your first encounter. You didn’t answer him, instead you found each of his hands and squeezed them with a hum, asking him to trust that the bacta had set in and made you comfortable enough to move from your impromptu med bay. He slid his fingers out from your burning core, dragging the wetness from your cunt over your skin until his palms were on your back, helping to push you up off of him. The teeny tiny bed frame made it difficult to spin yourself around until you were facing him, and even more difficult to kick your pants off as you passed over top of him, but he never took his hands away from you to keep you steady until you were seated in his lap.

Straddling his waist you rolled your hips over where his cock was hidden from you, making him shudder under your legs. His arms glided from your knees to your hips, languidly making their way up your sides and past your breasts to the last remaining tatters of the black knit sweater he had allowed you to wear. Hooking a thumb under its ruined edges, he slid it up over your arms and cast it away into the darkness of the ship. His hands went right back to working at your breasts, massaging them like dough in time with your grinding hips. You took a moment to admire how he looked underneath you, his remaining armor glinting in the hazy ship light as his hands searched for every sensitive inch of your chest. You knew from legend that his helmet could never be removed in front of you, but you��d never heard anything about the rest of his clothes. Where his chest plate had been was a strappy flak jacket dotted with magnetic fasteners. Your hands went slowly to the first clasp, and the hands that were so indulged in you froze, his body stiff between your legs.

“Is this ok?” The irony of you repeating his question from earlier back to him made your lips turn in a sly smile.

“Y-yes.” His voice was nearly imperceptible, and you realized that he was shaking. You looked to his visor, watching him nod in consent before you continued. He dropped his hands to your hips, pulling down on your thighs and rutting up into you while you busied yourself with the complicated under armor until it fell away at his sides, revealing a pair of suspenders and an identical black knit tunic as the one that had been shredded off of you. You didn’t have the energy to peel every article of clothing off of him, so this would have to do. Without his cloak bunched around his shoulders you were able to see the flesh of his throat, so warm and inviting that you wanted to sink your teeth into it.

You bent down to nibble at the exposed skin, and the filthy moan that rattled out of the helmet sent shivers down your spine. The taste of him was exquisite, better than you could have imagined under all that fabric and leather. The overwhelming cocktail of his scent straight from the source made you bold. You kissed your way around the edge of his helmet where the metal met his skin until you found his pulse point and made good on your desires. His body convulsed when you bit down, sucking at the tender skin until you left blooming marks that would be there for days.

“Cyar'ika... Please...“ There was that word again, you didn’t know what it meant but the way he breathed it like a prayer felt like warm honey in your belly. Releasing his tormented neck you ran your hands down his broad chest until your thumbs bumped the leather suspenders that lead you down to his waist line where you were able to tug the edge of his shirt free, giving you a delicious window of his tummy; well-muscled and dusted with dark brown hair.

“What’s wrong, tin man? Nobody ever touch you like this before?” He was still shaking while you ran your hands under the edge of his shirt and through the soft treasure trail of fuzz from the top of his belt line to the bottom of his ribs. He couldn’t answer you, his breath caught in his throat at the sensation of your hands on his skin, but you were starting to put the pieces of his puzzle together. No, probably not.

You decided not to torture him any longer. The fabric of his pants was nearly stretched to capacity and wet with your slick. You had to stretch one leg out onto the floor to get enough of a footing to lift yourself high enough off him that you could free him from the canvas prison. His cock nearly burst out of its confines, and your face flushed red at the sight of him standing proudly at attention, twitching in your hands with a flood of shimmering precum made just for you.

His chest was heaving, ragged breaths forcing their way out of his modulator before you’d even taken his length. You used your hips to notch him at your entrance and his grip on your thighs clenched like a steel trap. Slowly you lowered yourself onto him, letting him fill you until you were stretched wide. Your eyes met his visor, though from the way it was tilted you knew he was watching himself disappear into you. His arms wrapped tightly under your ass as he thrust into you hard enough that he lifted you off the cot, quickly scooting both your bodies down the bed until he was flat on his back. You tried to stay upright, but his pounding soon had your head spinning until you were falling forward into his chest, digging your arms around his shoulders in a way you were becoming familiar with. Your hands found their way to the back of his helmet to where his hair line started, sneaking a few fingers under the metal edge to tangle in his curls. The Mandalorian’s hands were on your waist, holding you in place while he rocketed up into you, filling the ships cabin with the sound of wet slaps. His thick cock hit different from this angle, grinding up against the sweet spot deep inside you with each rut until you started seeing stars behind your eyes. He could feel you building up around him and he quickened his pace until you were gasping his name.

“M-mando! I... I’m gonna....” Your muscles coiled with heat until you burst, your sweet cunt fluttering around his still pumping cock until he went cascading over the edge of ecstasy with you, his helmet vibrating with a guttural roar. His feverish body shook, giving you a few short thrusts to milk the cum from his cock until it spilled out from where he was lost inside you.

His shaky arms held onto you so tightly, as if you would blast away into space if he let go. The endorphins flooding his head made him want to pour his heart out and tell you everything, bare himself in body and soul for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you how nice you had looked in his clothes, how the loose knit fabric draped over your breasts was a work of art; even more so when you were standing before him armed to the teeth in his hunting trophies. How seeing you slice that fucking Twi’lek to ribbons was more graceful than any ballet. The sight of the bloody hole that had been burned into your side had made his skin crawl. Mando wasn’t ready to explain the child’s healing powers, he barely understood them himself; but if it wasn’t for the baby he would have been burying your corpse instead of tending your wounds. Instead of experiencing your living body like he was now.

His heart fluttered at the thought of his foundling healing you with his baby sorcerer magic, his tiny green paws pushed on your side where the blood was spilling from your wound. The thought of you dying for his bounty made him sick, but pride flushed the sensation away when he thought back to that first day with you up in the flight deck. How when his baby boy was restless that you acted, not with malice but with tenderness and care. He'd never wanted to rip his helmet off faster in all his days than when you sang his son a lullaby, the sweet tune of it filtering through his sensory equipment, and he longed to hear it as it was meant to be. In that moment he had been entranced, but the fierce glare of his visor had made you feel threatened. He didn't want that. He wanted to make you feel safe. The same way you had made his child feel, the same way you made him feel now. Like the galaxy itself couldn’t tear you from him.

But the ugly truth was that soon it would all end when you both went your separate ways. All the feelings he wanted to confess to you died in his mouth, leaving a bitter taste that brought him back to reality. You still straddled his waist, and though the blood had long since left his cock it still sat neatly in your heat, letting him feel your gentle heartbeat around him. Carefully he pulled himself free from the apex of your thighs and rolled you both sideways onto the unforgiving cot, letting gravity shuffle you down until you were nestled in the crook of his arm. He couldn’t help brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, meeting your half lidded eyes with his own behind the visor.

“I don’t think I can get to the fresher this time.” Your voice was barely a whisper, and the edges of sleep crept unbidden to your eyes; the traumatic activities of the day finally winning over your endurance. “You’re probably going to have to burn these sheets.”

Mando hummed with indifference, though for you he would burn all of Tatooine down if you asked. All the lovely thoughts that had danced through his mind came rolling through again, haloed in the warm light of afterglow. Only one made its way past his lips, sneaking out of the helmets’ modulator like a prayer.

“How does the song end?”

“Mmm?” You were so close to sleep, so cozy and full of cum that you knew would be a fun mess for morning-you to clean up. You wracked your brain trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. The star-shanty? “Why, do you need a lullaby too?”

“N-no. Just curious. When you leave, my foundling might ask me about it.” Liar. The calloused hand gliding up and down your spine brought the original contract you made with him ringing through your skull. One hunt and I’m gone.

“Leave? I’m not going anywhere until I see you tell Karga face to face that I’m rotting in a sarlacc pit. No take-backs. That old dog will probably dance when he hears he won’t have to part with his credits and I want to catch it on holo-corder.”

The rumbling sigh deep in his chest sounded more like an engine powering down than a mortal man, and it told you more than words ever could. The arm you had around his chest was met with strong fingers that intertwined with your own. He doesn’t want me to go. Who are you, Mandalorian?

“Tell me anyway? Please?” His arms tightened like a fortress around you. His words were distant, echoing out from somewhere in dreamland instead of right by your ear. Alright you big softie, if you’re going to beg me. You sighed heavily against him, trying to recall the songs of your distant past.

“The nights are long between the stars, and lonely too for me,

I wonder how I might have fared with home and family.

But the bonds of friendship I have formed will last my lifetime through,

Security is not for me, my dreams are all of you.”

The same soft snores that had been your original encore with the baby now ghosted in your ear, muffled by the mysterious beskar helmet but still unmistakable. Like father like son.

The weight of his arms around you was like nothing you had ever felt in your years on the run. You had traveled so far and met so many living beings but not once had you let another share your bed while you slept. You could get used to this. The thought was the last you had before sleep overtook you, your body slumping against his while you dreamed of silver and steel.

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official-weasley · 3 years ago

Text

Headcanon time! (Part 3)

So @am-i-space and I have been talking about dragons (as one normally does on a Sunday afternoon) and of course, our imagination went wild! Now, we know that our dragon lover works in Romania and we have learned about a few species (even seen a few of them in movies without Charlie but okay let's not discuss that here) of dragons but like, let's face it there are more!

The second I have learned about other schools and that they have dragons guarding the vaults in Gringotts I had a HC that the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary isn't the only one!

I can see one being in Canada, somewhere high up in the mountains and the same goes for South America. Of course, one would also be somewhere in the Himalayas. And let's face it the breeds we have all grown to love aren't the only ones!

Of course, Charles Weasley agrees with us 110% and after working in the Sanctuary for 10-15 years he takes a bit of a breather (not from dragons, of course) and travels the world in the hopes to see as many of them as he can. He borrows dad's camera (the one Bill got for him in my other HC where they go and see alpacas) and he starts his adventure.

So, let's start with the sea! I agree with @am-i-space like what do we know about oceans, really? Bloody nothing, that's what! So they proposed that there are water dragons and I am 100% on board with that. Just imagine them swimming around, ever so gracefully, blowing bubbles when they breathe! And they would have the most beautiful scales which would reflect in the sun ranging from dark green to purple and blue and even though they are BIG they are friendly and swim with the dolphins and communicate with whales.

Nobody will convince me that when Charlie goes to observe this beautiful behavior and hears the water dragons sing their mating song for the first time he doesn't cry his eyes out because he can swear that he has never heard such a beautiful sound before and would never get tired of it and is honestly thinking about moving in the middle of the ocean so he could wake up to those sounds every morning.

The next stop on his journey would be to find out if the rumors about ice dragons are true. Charlie, as smart as he is, knew that the most probable location to see if they are real would be the Himalayas. So he wrote to the Himalayan Sanctuary to stay there for a couple of weeks to explore in peace. The dragonologists he talked to there all said that they have given up hope to see one and that despite the rumors that they are hiding one in their reserve they had to disappoint him because they don't have it.

So Charlie put on the hat, the scarf, and the gloves (he knitted himself thank you very much!) and headed out, determined that he will find the ice dragon!

After about a week of hiking and his muscles aching, he began to lose hope to see one. He knew that he would need more time and that he would be ridiculously lucky to see one in such a short amount of time but he also knew that he has to take care of himself and put his health first so he headed back.

A day in, he heard something that sounded like a cry for help. It was in dangerous territory and he probably shouldn't go there but it really sounded like a baby dragon and there won't be a day in his life where Charlie Weasley wouldn't help a dragon in need.

He gasped when he came to the spot the cries were coming from. He saw something white and silver move in a huge pile of snow which looked like an aftermath of an avalanche. He hurried to see what was making the sounds and if the creature was okay at once.

The second he started to remove the snow around the creature he knew he has found one - an ice dragon! The baby dragon was frightened and looked at Charlie with appreciative eyes when he picked him up and started to look around to where this little guy could come from.

He remembered that baby dragons are really good at finding their way back to their mothers so once he brought the cub to safety he put him down and observed his behavior.

When his little ice friend stopped being disoriented he started crying again and howling toward the nearby mountain.

"Of course!" Charlie pressed his hand on his forehead and shook his head. Of course, the reason he couldn't find an ice dragon before, was because they live on the highest loneliest peeks.

Charlie was looking up at the one in front of him, thinking how in the bloody hell is he supposed to get up there with all his gear, tired muscles, and a baby dragon to top it all off!

Then he remembered that while it might not be humanly possible, a bit of magic could do the trick! He gently tied the little guy to his bag and took out his wand. He walked to the bottom of the mountain and then he cast the levitation charm on himself.

Every time he saw a platform that looked stable enough to stand on he stopped to take a few breaths and see how his friend was doing. The higher they got the more cheerful the little one got and Charlie knew they were getting closer.

Charlie put his wand away when they landed in front of what looked like a cave. Charlie gently untied the dragon and put him on the ground. The dragon let out the cutest little roar that made Charlie's heart melt and the ground beneath them started to shake.

Charlie gulped and didn't find his idea to return the dragon back home smart anymore when a gigantic version of his white-silver friend appeared in front of him. The dragon mother looked mad but cautious. The cub ran to her - trying his hardest to fly - and started making purring noises. The ice dragon momma sniffed her baby and then sniffed Charlie which was the coldest breath he has ever felt on his skin.

After she was done, he ushered her cub inside, and with a wiggle of his tail at Charlie, his ice friend disappeared inside the cave. Once his mother made sure he was safe, she turned back to Charlie and roared right in his face.

Charlie, who was used to dragons do that every day back in Romania, didn't even blink. His calm composure impressed the ice dragon and she carefully turned around and lowered herself to the ground.

Charlie knew what she was doing but still couldn't believe it! The dragon is going to let him fly on her! He was only so lucky 2 times with the dragons in the Sanctuary and they knew him for years and this one was just patiently waiting for him to get ready as if he was here every day.

The second Charlie stroked the cold silver scales on her back, the dragon started fluttering her wings, and before Charlie had a chance to gasp they were in the air - making a full circle around the dragon's home and then slowly losing altitude until they were at the bottom of the mountain.

Charlie thanked the dragon and apologized for not having anything for her to eat while the ice mother replied with breathing icy cold air straight into Charlie's face. He was observing her flying back up to her cub and he knew that he could take a picture of her but since nobody knew they were here and were probably pretty rare he decided to just keep the memory of the experience close to his heart and returned to the Sanctuary.

The last stop of his - so far absolute epic adventure - was the Sanctuary in South America which was hidden deep in the Andes mountain range. There he met a few very exotic species of dragons who reminded him a lot of the Welsh Greens he took after in Romania except that these were of all sorts of colors from red to violet.

After the tour of the reserve, 2 of the Dragonologists took him to what looked like a highly protected and secluded habitat and told him that they only share this information with other dragonologists.

Charlie was excited to see what they are hiding but he wasn't prepared for what he saw once they got there. It was a storm dragon - sky blue with a white mane.

"But I thought they were extinct." Was all Charlie managed to say before approaching the beautiful creature to fully take in what was resting in front of him.

The two dragonologists told him that he is the last of its kind and that he must be protected at all costs until his very last breath which hopefully the day that happens is still very very far away.

Charlie's 2 new friends allowed him to spend a few hours with the mighty beast and as he was sitting there, studying it, Charlie couldn't believe that all his dreams were coming true.

The next day when he was having dinner in a nearby restaurant he heard some of the locals there whisper about a creature called el chupacabra. He has heard of the creature before - mostly when he read Muggle folklore. However, these people weren't describing a dog-like creature. No! It sounded like they were talking about dragons except that they described the creature as fairly small and surely no breed of a dragon is that small?

Because this information didn't allow Charles Weasley the dragon lover (not obsessor, only lover) to sleep at night he decided to venture into the Amazonian rainforest and see the creature for himself.

He was only walking for 5 hours this time around when he heard unusual squeaking noises. They led him to a meadow that appeared to be empty at first. Because he was parched, he sat down at the edge of it, took off his backpack, drank some water, and unwrapped a sandwich he prepared in the morning.

The second the smell of his delicious meal spread he saw a few heads poke out of the tall grass. Charlie couldn't believe his eyes! They were dragons and the locals were right - they were so small! More and more dragons started to approach him and at this point, Charlie started to think he was in heaven because this was too good to be true.

They appeared to be friendly and awfully playful. He was also in awe by their size as some were as small as crup puppies while the biggest was about to his waist in height.

Charlie had no choice but to share his sandwich for which he was rewarded with licks and wiggling tails. These dragons didn't breathe fire as Charlie expected but big puffs of air that soothed him in this Amazonian heat. They came in all sorts of colors from different hues of green and brown and some were even yellow and orange.

They were absolutely beautiful and even though they had the structure of most dragons there was something about them that Charlie couldn't wrap his mind about. He narrowed his eyes and observed one for solid 5 minutes before he figured it out.

They had a fluffball of hair on the top of their heads making them the only breed Charlie has ever laid his eyes on to have fur and it made them extra adorable!

He spent the rest of his afternoon chasing and playing with the fluffs (as he called them) and because he was having so much fun he forgot about the time, making him almost spend the night in the jungle.

As he was returning he couldn't stop the smile that was spreading from one of his ears to the other as he deemed his adventure more than successful and he couldn't wait to take another breather like this because he is sure that there are even more breeds out there to see and admire!

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley headcanon #because daydreaming with friends is amazing

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propensityforthemature44 · 4 years ago

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Texas Triangle

For most of my forties, I worked as the assistant news director for CBS News, based in Manhattan. The position came with a number of perks, most notably salary and benefits greater than I would have earned back in my hometown on California’s Central Coast, where my career began. Within mere walking distance, so many of New York’s great museums, concert halls, restaurants, etc. were right there to explore during the little free time allowed by a demanding career. It was a spectacular time, the dynamics of television journalism in the twenty-first century, always learning something new, and the great people with whom I worked, the latter being perhaps one of the greatest benefits. This was especially true regarding one particular co-worker: legendary anchorman Bob Schieffer.

Arguably one of the more recognizable reporters of our time with an impressive CV, Bob commanded the respect of everyone at Black Rock, as the New York headquarters of CBS is known, not just because of his professional accomplishments, but because of how well he interacted with others. Whether you were network top brass or a member of the cleaning crew, he treated everyone with a sincere compassion. It was quite common on a Monday morning for Bob to pass through the halls and ask other employees how their kids performed at a piano recital or baseball game over the weekend. His affable nature allowed for bridge-building and ease of relationship maintenance between management and on-air talent, which made my life easier. This was a sharp contrast to the environment during the time of his friend and predecessor, Dan Rather, with whom I was acquainted and got on well, but the mention of whose name still drew eye-rolls on the property. Our professional dealings were so excellent, that they eventually led to a friendship outside of work.

After a couple of years on the job, Bob and I became such good friends, we were frequent guests at one another’s home for dinner parties. In fact, I had even been to his home for Christmas Eve dinner on consecutive years. His wife was a wonderful, gracious woman, and the same could be said for the rest of the family whom I had the opportunity to meet. It was a friendship based on trust in a professional situation, but had blossomed into what I considered to be a very rewarding relationship.

Due to our difference in ages, he was in many ways a role model given his life experiences. Also, I found myself very attracted to him, and why not? He was a handsome, well-dressed, intelligent mature gentleman with a wonderful personality, in other words, exactly my type. The exceptions being that he was straight, a colleague, and a friend.

One spring, I had planned to return to California, where I kept a home for visits and eventual retirement, for a couple of weeks to attend a family wedding and also to take some time to wind down by travelling along the coast. A few days before I was scheduled to head west, my boss summoned me to his office one afternoon. He requested that I schedule some time to speak with Bob about a personnel matter involving the research department. When I reminded him that I would not be back in New York for two weeks, he expressed a desire for the matter to be concluded quickly. So, I mentioned that I would be seeing Bob in Austin at the end of the week, and could discuss then. He was a great boss, but I knew that he was aware that as a friend, I would be attending the awarding of an honorary doctorate to Bob by the University of Texas on my way back to the West Coast. A crafty move on his part, but I would have tried the same.

A few days later, I traveled to Austin for a night, and checked into the Four Seasons downtown, where Bob was staying. Upon checking in, the clerk informed me that he had passed to the front desk a message asking me to visit his suite. I thanked her, and headed to my own room to drop-off my luggage, and do some minimal unpacking. It was already 2:30 in Austin, and I was flying to SFO to get a connecting flight the next afternoon following the award and luncheon.

Upon settling, I headed to Bob’s suite on the top floor. I knocked on the door, and then heard, “I’ll be right there, John,” in his familiar Texas drawl. When he opened the door, we shook hands, and then embraced in a more familiar hug of close friends. He showed me around, a rather impressive room of no less than 1800 square feet overlooking the river. “Where is Patricia?” I asked. Bob replied, “Well, change of plans.” He explained that his wife had gone to visit her sister in Dallas, whose husband was recovering from a recent procedure. I asked him to pass along my regards.

We made our way into the living room to take care of business, which concluded rather quickly to my delight, and from there began to just be ourselves. I congratulated him on the honor, and Bob being Bob, became flushed and modest. He then arose, and asked if I wanted a drink, and he poured me a vodka on the rocks. From there, we began to get caught up on a number of personal matters.

At one point he asked, “So, did you ever fill in that plus one on the wedding invitation?” Even though we were close, I was taken by surprise, forgetting that Bob had been in my office when the invite arrived several months prior. “No,” I said. “I’ll be attending solo. This way, I can focus on visiting with people at the events. I only get back to the Coast a few times a year.”

This seemed to draw a rather puzzled look on Bob’s face, as I could clearly see the eyebrows pointed upward through the lenses of his reading glasses. “Come on, John. Are you trying to tell me that you can’t get a date for this wedding? You’re in your prime. Forty-five years old, handsome, well-educated, well-traveled, great career, and you spend most of your time in California when not in New York. I’m sure there are plenty of eligible gentlemen in both places who would love to accompany you.”

I was shocked, to say the least. On the one hand, flattered, on the other, feeling as if I’d been drawn out of the closet, even though my being gay was not a secret at headquarters. Before I could respond, Bob asked, “Did you think I did not know? You know it doesn’t matter, right?” The answer of course being, I knew, despite the whole TCU connection he had, that he did not care about ethnicity, orientation, race, religion, etc., with regard to how he viewed people.

“I suppose that it’s just never come up in conversation between us over the years,” I said. Thinking about it, I supposed it was true, despite my occasional lusts for him.

“Well, no pressure, but I would just like to see you with someone. This isn’t the 1950’s, a couple of 40’s/50’s something guys like you should be enjoying the time together”, Bob said with a smile.

I answered, “That could be an issue. You see, I have a type, and what you describe, doesn’t match.”

“Well then, what is your type of man?” Bob inquired.

In a matter of seemingly no time, I found myself pouring out the details of my ideal man: mature, handsome, worldly, cultured, gentile. He laughed, “Why on Earth would you want to be with an old man?” “Not just any old man, the right sort of older man. Truth be told, he would be a man, like you, Bob, in many respects.”

He looked a little taken aback, so I said that I would head back to my room, and see him at the ceremony. As I made my way for the front door, I felt a tug on my right arm, and when I turned around, Bob embraced me in a hug and said, “Don’t leave just yet. You just surprised me is all. You know that there is no problem for us, right?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You know that I love my wife, don’t you, John?”

“Of course, Bob.”

With that, he moved his arms down, and then up along my jacket, caressing my back and chest as he pulled me closer, pulling off his glasses before passionately and firmly pressing his lips to mine. Not exactly the first time kissing a man significantly older than myself, but this was certainly unchartered territory. I was so turned on, it felt as if I were high, and wow, could he kiss. It was a perfect example of why older men are better: they know things. Even more, I was beginning to realize this was not his first time with another man, certainly not when he began to move his hand over my crotch, focusing on my now fully erect manhood.

“What do we have here?” he asked slyly, as he bent down to unbuckle and open my slacks. From there, he took me across his lips, and then along his tongue, taking my entirety within his mouth, moving me back and forth. The sensation was so pleasing, I felt as if I was going to pass out in the middle of the suite. Hearing his moans and seeing the look upon his face, Bob was enjoying the act at least as much.

After a couple of minutes, he stood and pressed himself against me, with me now feeling the full excitement coming from Bob’s side. We embraced in a kiss for minutes, not wanting to separate. Toward the end, he was undoing my tie, and I his, after I removed my jacket, and then unzipped his fly, as I had imagined doing so many times over the years. Feeling a drop of pre-cum, I spread it along his tip, then began to move my hand back and forth, reveling in his moans and breathing, until he pulled himself closer and whispered, “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Within a matter of seconds, we had completely undressed and were embraced near the foot of the bed, and engaged in a complete lip-lock. As I saw it, there was certainly no reason to separate now. He tasted so good, and I knew he felt the same. In addition, we had established that he loved his wife, I had no intention of getting in the way, and my attraction to him had clearly taken over after settling those details.

We separated for a moment, as Bob walked over to the side of the bed. He pulled back the covers and climbed inside. Leaning on his side he patted his hand on the opposite side of the bed and said, “Come on, don’t be shy,” grinning from ear to ear. It was all the invitation needed for me to get under the covers and wrap my arms around his beautiful, smooth body. I wasted no time before reuniting with his lips and playing with his wonderful tongue. I moved my hands up and down his torso, finally settling down on his firm and gorgeous ass, adjusting to move my head down to focus on his nipples with my tongue and using my right hand to stroke him.

I could not believe that this was happening. This was a good friend, a colleague, and although this had been a fantasy for a few years, I could never have imagined that he would be so receptive and then some. I had every intention of making the most of the opportunity, and thus moved further down to take him in my mouth, and give him his medicine.

“Oh my god,” he exclaimed. “That is so wonderful. Please don’t stop.”

I moved up and down along his shaft, wrapping my tongue around the head, and after a couple of minutes, began to really work the head with my mouth while using my hand to pleasure his shaft. In doing so, I really began to get turned on by his moaning. After a few minutes, he placed his hand on my chest, as if to pause, but then pushed down until I lay flat on my back. Now, Bob was in charge, cleaning my testicles with his tongue, before focusing down on my cock. He moved up and down, closing his eyes, then opening them so that he could see the look of joy upon my face, and he certainly knew how to put in there with years of practice.

What seemed like hours of pure delight had passed when he let up and pulled himself back up to cuddle and kiss deeply and passionately. He was so close to having me reach the limit, but suddenly pulled back from the act, held me close and whispered into my ear, “Please enter me, darlin’. I want you to, it will be okay.” Then, Bob, pulled away and reached into the night stand drawer, and to my surprise, produced a bottle of lube.

“Now, you what to do, don’t you?” Bob asked rhetorically, as he kissed me on the forehead. So, I felt compelled to prove him right, and lubed my right index finger, and moved it slowly across his rosebud. This made him twitch and tickle at first, but he knew he was in good company, and I would never let him feel discomfort. So, as he loosened up after a minute, I lubed my middle finger as well, and began to slowly move them back and forth until I eventually reached his prostate. Now, he was putty in my hands.

Once my cock was sufficiently lubricated, I placed myself upon his precipice, slowly waiting for the right time, as I lay with my head upon his stomach. After a minute or two, I lifted my head toward his to embrace in a passionate kiss, after which he said, “I’m ready.”

I began to move ever so slowly back and forth, Bob in the missionary position, resting his heels on my shoulders, facing one another. It was so hot with the pleasure being split equally. Every time I thrust forward, I would make eye contact so as to see how much he was enjoying the penetration. He was giddy like a schoolboy, but more appropriately as an adult, panting and moaning. After several minutes, neither of us could handle any more, and I thrust against his prostate and ejected a stream within Bob, and then he let out a sigh, “Ohhh, god,” and shot a river of cum across my chest. Once concluded, we wrapped one another in hugs and kisses, and cuddled. It had been a couple of months since my last experience, but would easily say it was the best sex I had at that point in my life.

Eventually, the silence was broken by the ring of the room’s landline. Bob answered, “Hello. Come on now, of course I didn’t forget about you. Drop by when you’re ready,” he chuckled.

I looked over at the clock, and a couple of hours had since passed. Then I looked at Bob, and said, “Well, if you’re having a visitor, perhaps it’s best if I move to my room.”

Bob winked at me and said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You may want to put this on, however,” as he passed me a robe, along with a pair of slippers.

After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Bob went out to the hallway to answer, and I could hear the faint echo of what appeared to be excited conversation between old friends. In the moment, it occurred to me that Bob felt comfortable enough with me to have me here in a robe, while inviting someone else inside, but I still had a tinge of awkwardness about the room. This was originally supposed to be just a stop on the way back west, but had taken a fantastic detour.

Then, a minute later, Bob came walking around the corner, also robed. Then, he asked, “You met John back at one of the holiday parties, didn’t you?” A moment later around the corner stepped James “Jim” Baker III, former Secretary of Treasury, White House Chief of Staff, to name just a few posts. Being a double-major political science/journalism as an undergraduate, of course he was a familiar figure, in addition to being introduced at Bob’s house.

“Of course. Nice to see you again, John.” He smiled, but you could tell from the expression on his face, that this, by no means, was the encounter he had expected. It was known that although there had been many interviews over the years, they had developed a friendship off-camera. So, while a stately, respectful man, he did seem somewhat put off that there was an extra man in the room, and reported, “Well, I won’t stay too long.”

The phone rang once more, and Bob said, “I’ll need to take this. Can you two make yourselves comfortable?”

“Sure,” we replied in unison.

Jim made his way around to sit on one of the sofas. He was, I think, a rather handsome man in his own right. Nicely cut head of white hair, beautiful navy blue suit with a red and blue striped tie, it was as if he’d just stepped out of a Brooks Brothers ad.

We attempted the task of small talk, although there was a bit of discomfort in the air. The conversation shifted to the next day’s event for Bob, which brought us both to Austin in the first place, then moved to an overview of each of our schedules for the week. Eventually, I noticed him wince a little, and asked if he was okay.

“Oh sure, I’m fine. Just paying the price for a round of golf this past weekend. No carts, all walking, so my feet are a little tender,” he chuckled.

I’m not sure what came over me, but I stood up and moved an ottoman closer to Jim, and sat down. Then, one-by one, I extended each of his legs and removed his cordovan Alden tassel loafers and began to massage his dress-socked feet.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I just thought you were having discomfort. I’ll stop.”

“Well, it certainly is improving things,” Jim said, laughing a little.

I continued doing so for a couple of minutes, enjoying his pleasure.

Then, Bob returned and leaned over Jim to ask, “Do you still want to leave, Bake? They have such great service here.”

Bob then reached over and removed Jim’s suit jacket, as I continued to massage his tired feet. After hanging his jacket, Bob returned, and from behind, planted a deep kiss on Jim’s lips, that seemed to go on for minutes. It would have become obvious to an outside observer why Jim seemed edgy at first; he had planned on meeting Bob all by himself, and the way they were going at it, it was not the first or even fifth time, this had been an arrangement for a while.

While they were still kissing, I placed Jim’s feet on the floor, and made my way to his chair. I moved my hand up and down each of his corresponding legs, and then focused on the midsection. I caressed his torso, and transferred to his belt, which I unbuckled, then unzipped his fly and opened his slacks, and reaching inside the front hole of his boxers to release him. Now, he was mine, all 7 inches of engorgement that had developed in the past few minutes, and I wrapped my mouth around the head of his beautiful cock and began working my way up and down. I could feel the vein along the side, as it met my tongue, and could feel his excitement as he wriggled while still kissing Bob.

Bob untied Jim’s tie, and I began to move my hand inside of his shirt to feel his amazing chest. Not smooth like Bob’s, but just the right amount of hair, and light-colored. In a few minutes, we moved to the bedroom.

We placed Jim back on the bed, and then proceeded to fully undress him. I moved my way up the bed to kiss him, and again, older men know things. He was a master kisser, and we worked on one another while Bob serviced Jim below the deck. After a minute or two, I extended my right hand upward and began playing with his nipple. It seemed to be going well, so I released myself from his lips, and re-focused my mouth on his left nipple, while using my hand to play with his right.

To my delight, he was enthused, evidenced by his moaning of satisfaction. In fact, he must have been so appreciative, because without notice, he eventually maneuvered so that he could take me into his mouth, and did he ever do so. He had me in sheer ecstasy for several minutes, moving up and down on my head and shaft, completely reviving me for another performance.

At one point, he changed gears, shifting to Bob. After all, Bob had been hard at work for some time, and it was his turn to receive the delights he deserved. In doing so, he placed his hands on each side of Bob’s torso and pulled him up further on the bed. Then, he got between Bob’s legs and lowered his head, lips first. As he did, Bob’s patented grin returned to his face as he moved his head back and forth on the pillow.

It’s often said when a threesome occurs, that one person can find himself left out of the equation. I did not find this to be the case, but rather an opportunity. Specifically, Jim’s spectacular ass was now staring me right in the face. I extended my hands outward, massaging his buttocks. It was wonderful, so smooth and tight, you could just feel that he worked out 3-4 times per week. I could also feel that he was enjoying the chain of stimulation, as on the front end, his mouth and hand were now bringing Bob to new heights of joy. So, I reached over to the bedside table and retrieved the bottle of lube from earlier. One by one, I lubed my fingers, and began to finger Jim. He wriggled a little at first, but began to relax and loosen up, so a couple of minutes later, I spread a generous amount of lube on my cock, and then inserted myself into the former Secretary of Treasury.

As I stated before, this is not anything like I had imagined this trip unfolding. I wanted it to last as long as possible, so I slowly slid in and out. He was so moist, and I was so turned by watching him blow Bob and all of the moaning coming from both of them. I knew it would be only a few minutes at the most until I released myself within Jim.

“Jim,” Bob panted a few minutes later. “I can’t hang on much longer.”

Jim pulled Bob out of his mouth and began to quickly jerk him off before replying, “Come on, honey.”

Bob threw his head back and said, “Oh my god,” and then proceeded to cum right into Jim’s mouth, which he took like a pro and countered, “Umhm.”

I couldn’t take any more myself, and then pushed further into Jim before shooting a load.

Bob put his head back on the pillow. His expression was one of satisfaction and exhaustion. He was spent.

Jim leaned over and covered Bob with the sheet. Then, he kissed him deeply and passionately on the lips, then gently on the forehead.

I was now lying flat on my back, and Jim cuddled up next to me. He extended both hands, placed them on either side of my face, and pulled me in for a wonderful kiss that made me melt away, and we held in the embrace for several minutes.

“Doesn’t he look cute when he’s sleeping?” he asked me while looking over at Bob.

“As for you, you are every bit as good as I thought you’d be. Mmm, mmm, mmm. I knew the first time I laid eyes on you.” With that, he maneuvered so that he was right on top of me, and as he did, his cock rubbed up against my leg, just dripping with pre-cum.

Jim pressed his manhood right up against my balls and said, “There just one thing, son. The next time you’re in Texas, I get Bobby first. Understood?”

“Understood,” I said.

He then smiled at me, and lifted my legs upward so that my feet were now resting on his shoulders. With his right hand, he grabbed the lube and squirted several drops on my anus and a plentiful amount over his cock, and moved it up and down his shaft. Then, he got closer, and pushed himself gently up against my opening. His cock was just the right size, not too thick, not too thin, that with the lube, he slid right into me.

“Oh my,” he muttered, as he began to move back and forth.

It was heavenly, as he moved in and out, building up his pace over a few minutes. Eventually, he unloaded what felt like a gallon of cum all over my insides, falling forward and resting his head on my chest for several minutes before he went limp and released himself from me.

I must have dozed off because after a while, I felt a hand upon my chin. I looked up to find Bob smiling as he asked, “Hello, darlin’. Are you ready for another go?”

What transpired then is between the three of us. That said, it would not be my final encounter with either Bob or Jim.

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kenzieam · 4 years ago

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Beauty and the Blackheart - Chapter Four

@jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

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Rating: M

Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut, major angst

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We finally learn a little bit of Bucky’s tragic background.....

FEEDBACK IS LIFE, Y’ALL, LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE POSTING OR NOT

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Morning came too soon, and Lev found herself suffering from a dual hangover; both from the tequila and from Bucky’s actions.

What had he meant when he’d said he wished to God he’d done different?

Her head ached and her body throbbed yet the worst, or maybe best, part was she could still feel Bucky’s fingers, gently caressing her nape, the strength in his arms when she’d clung to him, mistaking him for Clint.

Goddammit, it had felt good, he had felt good, his touch settling something deep inside her that had been alone and restless for far too long.

Lev thrust her hands through her hair, then scrubbed her face with her hands. A quiet knock at the door made her raise her head.

“Yeah?”

Clint’s apologetic face appeared. “How are you feeling?”

“I need to leave, Clint. It’s no good if I stay.”

His lips turned down, eyes dropping to the floor, but Clint nodded. “Yeah, Bucky…. Bucky’s had some bad shit happen in the past, it’s… it’s probably best if you...” He trailed off, unwilling or unable to continue then seemed to perk up a tiny bit. “Will you wait until tomorrow to leave? I’d really like to spend one last night with you.”

Lev’s heart warmed at the thought, just Clint and her, brother and sister, spending some quiet time together; what she should have done from the start, rather than getting tangled in the tattoo shop and Bucky. “Of course. Want to order some pizza? Watch old ‘80s campy horror like we used to?”

Clint positively beamed. “Yeah, I’d love that.” He turned to leave then hesitated, looking back at Lev before turning to leave again, but still he didn’t move, shoulders slumping.

“Come here.” Lev called quietly, waiting until Clint sat silently on the edge of the bed, reaching over to take his hand. “I’m sorry. Whatever is messed up between Bucky and I, that’s on me. Everything was good until I got here. I don’t want to come between you guys, or make you choose between us. I was just visiting anyway, so now I’m leaving a little early, that’s all; it’s okay.”

Sorrow flashed briefly in Clint’s gaze but they both knew she was right. “It sucks.”

“Yeah, but you’ll just have to come and visit me then.”

“I will.” He met her eyes and nodded. “We always go too long between seeing each other, that’s going to change. I miss you, kid.”

Lev felt a pang in her chest and her voice caught as she whispered. “I miss you too, big brother.”

Clint swallowed, then cleared his throat aggressively. Big sappy displays were not his thing, and in truth, they weren’t Lev’s either. He stood, almost abruptly and swiped at his cheek. “See you tonight,” a thought seemed to hit him then and he hesitated before adding, “would you mind if Steve came over too? He’ll be upset to hear you’re leaving; he’ll want to say goodbye.”

“Of course, yeah. That’d be great.” Lev sighed, relieved that Clint had thought of it. It would save her having to go to the shop, maybe running into Bucky, to say goodbye to Steve herself.

Clint nodded, threw her a sad grin, then left.

Lev considered mooning around in bed for a while, wallowing in the disappointment of her current situation, then threw the covers back with a groan, forced her feet to touch the floor.

You win some, you lose some. She wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, she knew that, and she and Bucky just hadn’t clicked, there was no shame it that, only if she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it, continued to force herself into his space would it become wrong. Leaving was the best option for everyone.

Then why did it hurt?

If leaving was the right thing to do, then why had she found herself driving by the local hospital more than once, watching the comings and goings of staff and patients, imagined herself working there, part of the rush and crush?

No. It did no good to drown in the ‘what if’s and if only’s’. Her life was a three-and-a-half-hour plane trip away, not here.

She needed a shower and, while the hot water pounded her bare skin, she made herself not think about everything.

Later, Lev found herself in the backyard. There was a small pool that she’d shamefully underutilized, and tall fragrant trees blocking any nosy neighbours from spying. Sprawled on her stomach on the lounge chair, Lev surfed idly on her laptop, having already booked her flight home for tomorrow and now letting herself drift, catching up on friend’s Facebook pages, something she rarely had made time for in the past. A pang hit her as she read, seeing how everyone seemed to have a life, a family, children on the way. All Lev had, all she’d concerned herself with for years, had been her education, her upcoming career.

Had she wasted her life? In her one-track mind approach to everything, had she missed out on all the good stuff?

No, she decided firmly. She was still young, now that her education was out of the way, she could start really living, reaping the rewards that years of sacrifice and discipline had brought.

The sun was warm on her bare shoulders and Lev giggled at herself. She was even starting to tan, something she hadn’t done since junior high, when she’d flirted briefly with the track team to round out her academic record before quitting to take an extra chemistry class.

Pushing the laptop away, Lev rested her cheek on her crossed arms and closed her eyes. She imagined laying on one of the tattoo tables at the shop, getting her first real ink. Would Bucky’s fingers be as soft working on her tattoo as they’d been against her nape last night? Would his breath tickle her skin, the heat of his big body warm her? Would the same tingles she felt every time they’d accidentally brushed up against each other race through her as he drew on her virgin skin? She realized now what had always made her edgy around him, and she wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t experienced it herself, but there was a low-level charge between them, a humming energy that colored and heated the air around them, swirling and tangling and, for better or worse, binding them.

As she lay there, she imagined Bucky’s touch moving lower, trailing teasingly along her suddenly bare back to reach the curve of her ass and Lev shuddered, but not in a bad way.

Even when she’d avoided him at the shop, she’d still hungered for glances of him, quick snatches of his hands, large and veined and tattooed, gentle as he worked yet looking so strong and dangerous. He’d proven that last night, breaking that guy’s nose at the bar and literally wrenching her from her seat before brushing back her hair so carefully, enfolding her in his embrace so securely.

What would it feel like to have him inside her, to feel him grip her hips and drive himself home between her thighs? Lev was not a virgin but only barely, her tentative explorations with a classmate, almost clinical in their detachedness, had been more like studying than anything else and she’d not gotten off, not with any satisfaction anyway.

But it would be different with Bucky, Lev mused. He was experienced, he knew how to touch a woman, how to bring her pleasure. She’d covertly glanced at the sizeable bulge in his jeans more than once, felt her womb clench at the thought of feeling that push inside her. If he kissed her with half as much raw desire and want as she’d seen him suck face with some of those girls then she might ever come from that alone, convulsing in his arms when he hadn’t even really touched her yet.

And God, the thought of those long, dextrous fingers brushing at her folds made her shiver, toying with her clit, spreading her juices-

“Hey,” A deep voice called tentatively, and Lev startled out her daydream, nearly knocking the laptop off the chair above her. She shook her head, peering at the speaker and felt her face go beet-red.

Of course, of course it would have to be Bucky standing a few dozen feet away, looking like tattooed sin himself, probably able to smell her arousal in the air.

Lev scrambled to cover herself, cursing her impulsive decision to lose her pants and lounge in only her tank-top and panties, the blanket she’d brought out too far away to reach.

Goddammit, why had she decided to slut-it-up now?

Sensing her discomfort, Bucky strode forwards and grabbed the blanket, holding it out to her with averted eyes. Gratefully Lev took it, sitting cross-legged and wrapping the blanket around her.

Bucky studied her for a beat, just long enough to make Lev drop her gaze, then looked around. Walking towards the other lounge chair, he pulled it closer and sat with a sigh, scrubbing his hands on his jeans. Lev waited, not at all sure why the hell Bucky was here, and what he was going to say to her.

“I overheard your brother telling Steve… you’re leaving?” He bent over, clasped his hands together, forearms resting on his thighs and studied his fingers, not meeting her gaze.

“It’s for the best.” Lev mumbled. “You don’t like me, and I won’t come between my brother and his friends.”

“I never said I don’t like you.”

Lev snorted with derision, barely believing her ears. Really? He’d never said he didn’t like her? He didn’t need to, he’d shown that he hadn’t, every fucking day.

Bucky glanced up at her snort then dropped his head again, ears reddening as he correctly read her thoughts.

Lev waited, not trusting herself to speak again without flying off the handle and destroying whatever fragile tie brought Bucky here today looking so humbled and studied his form instead. She’d gazed at him time untold already, covertly but, with the reality of her leaving and probably never seeing him again, her eyes greedily devoured him now, committing him to memory for the inevitable dark times of regret ahead. Tattoos crawled his neck to his impossibly chiselled jawline visible even beneath his beard, the colors vibrant and lines strong, Clint’s best work. His left arm, apparently grievously broken some years ago and repaired with pins and screws, was covered in a full cyborg sleeve, right down to his hand. Steve was responsible for it and it blended seamlessly with his musculature, flowing with a startling realism when he moved. The other arm was covered in a full sleeve as well, but as a myriad of images tied together, entailing untold hours of work and resulting in an image that took hours and multiple viewings to fully capture and appreciate all the details, all the way down to calloused and scarred fingers, his touch startingly tender when he wanted, bone-crushing when he didn’t.

He looked like the last person someone like Lev would be attracted to yet, as she gazed at him, a yearning that took her breath away clawed around her heart; a small voice deep inside whispering a plaintive but implacable ‘mine’.

The full effect, of his massive frame, beard, long hair, heavily tattooed body, leather and denim attire and general ‘don’t fuck with me’ aura made him an intimidating presence but, right now, he was making himself vulnerable, showing a side to Lev that his outward appearance made it look like he didn’t have.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “Whatever chance I had…. I’ve fucking lost you now, haven’t I?” His voice cracked and Lev stared in shock at his bent head.

What? Where the hell was this coming from? When had he ever wanted a chance with her?

“I… I don’t understand, Bucky. I didn’t think you ever did.”

“I did.” His voice was so low Lev almost missed it. “God, I did, I do.”

A sudden rush hit Lev, a swell of conflicting emotions; confusion, curiosity, anger and, oddly enough, sympathy for the man in front of her. It would have been so much easier to stay away, wait the few short hours for Lev to leave forever and never think of her again and yet… he’d come to her, looking and sounding broken.

“Her name was Amelia.” Bucky said unexpectedly. “Everyone called her Ami. She was serious, driven, disciplined… she was like you.” He raised his head briefly before dropping it again. “We were night and day, but I loved her. Even back in high school… fuck, I loved her. She had all these plans, you know? This big fancy career, what she was going to do, when and where and I was going to be there with her. I mean, I was apprenticing with Steve, but you can do that anywhere, I could’ve gotten a job in a shop anywhere…. I just wanted to be with Ami, you know? I was happy with just that.”

His exhale was unsteady, and Lev tensed, a sick feeling building in her stomach as she connected the dots. There was no woman named Ami hanging around the shop, no ring on Bucky’s finger, just a steady stream of faceless women.

“I sold my Harley to buy her engagement ring.” He sighed heavily and Lev was shocked to feel the beginnings of tears prick her eyes. “I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me and…. She laughed. Laughed in my face.”

Lev felt a rush of rage at this woman, how cruel, how goddamn heartless, to laugh when someone is making themselves so vulnerable like that? Taking a chance and asking you to share your life with them?

“’Why?’ She asked,” Bucky spat, fists going white at the knuckles as he clenched them. “’Why would I marry someone like you?’” He swallowed hard. “She told me I was crazy, to think we’d ever had a future. She said I was a disappointment, I had no goals, no dreams or ambitions beyond being a loser, that only crooks and druggies became tattoo ‘artists’ and that I needed to get serious and grow up.”

A tear coursed down Lev’s cheek. Even at her most angry, her most hurt by Bucky’s treatment of her, she never would have gone so low as this Ami woman, especially with someone she’d supposedly loved, enough to give him the impression of a potential future between them.

“She left. I haven’t seen her since.” He took a deep breath, let it out with a heartbreaking resignation. “I stayed apprenticing because it was all I had. Steve, Nat, tattoos and eventually, your brother. And I’m not a loser, I have a business with my two best friends, a successful one and I’m content with that… but I haven’t let a woman close since her. I fuck and forget because it doesn’t hurt. I’m upfront with them because Ami wasn’t with me, there’s no illusions. And then you walked into my shop.” He looked up finally and the riot of emotions darkening his eyes made the thin remains of her restraint fail and the tears fell unheeded down her face.

“I thought I’d loved Ami but,” he shook his head. “It was nothing compared to what hit me when I saw you that first time, and… it scared the fuck out of me because it was happening again. I was falling for a woman with the same drive and desire to succeed as her. And I hated that, this… weakness of mine, to get caught in that again, like the first time never happened… and it pissed me off so bad and terrified me at the same time. I did all I could to keep you away, but I couldn’t help it sometimes…. sometimes I just had to be close to you, sometimes I couldn’t hide it anymore. I fought so hard to push you away because Ami broke me but… if I let myself love you and you did the same, it would kill me this time.”

Lev stared, horror and sorrow taking her breath away.

Wow.

Of all the things she expected to hear from Bucky, whatever explanations or excuses he might have offered to maybe justify his actions, she’d hadn’t imagined anything like this because, why would you? Who would ever think that another human being could be that cruel, especially to someone they’d given at least the impression of loving? If Ami hadn’t wanted to marry Bucky, fine; if she’d thought him unambitious, whatever, but she hadn’t needed to crush him like that.

What pain did he hide behind those supernatural eyes?

She was getting a good look at that pain now, coupled with a deep regret.

“I…” He began but trailed off. Fists clenching again he continued. “I just needed you to know that; it was never really about you, you’re-” his voice cracked again. “You’re going to make some lucky fuck really happy one day and this is all on me. What’s happened between us is my fuck-up, not yours. Never. yours.”

Without conscious intent Lev stood and moved to sit at Bucky’s side. She had no idea what she was doing, but his pain cleaved her in two. Bucky lifted his head, turning eyes dark with regret her way. Only a foot away, Lev could see the moisture gathering there, the tightness at the corners of his eyes as he fought back emotion; he exhaled, a long, low sound that wavered as his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Hunger joined the pain and he looked back up into her eyes, the power in his gaze gripping her in place, drawing her closer and their lids fluttered closed just as their lips touched, a tentative brushing before his hand reached up and cupped her jaw, curled around to cradle her head and hold her close as the kiss deepened, grew hard and passionate as floodgates long held close burst open. It was all teeth and tongues and desire and Lev couldn’t stop a moan against Bucky’s mouth, which he answered with a primal sound, low in his chest. Grabbing her waist Bucky pulled Lev to straddle his lap and she moved eagerly, tightening her thighs around his hips, inhaling sharply when he squeezed her leg, growling in barely leashed need.

She could feel him, hot and hard, pressing against her core, one large hand guiding her hip, grinding her against him then the other was rucking up under her shirt, cupping her breasts, thumb rasping over her nipples.

“Fuck, baby-” Bucky groaned against her mouth and he was all she could see, hear, smell, feel and taste, completely capturing and overwhelming her senses and Lev wanted nothing more in that moment than for Bucky to tear her clothes away and drive inside her, make her scream and writhe beneath him, feel him release inside her with a groan.

This is happening too fast.

“Wait-” Lev gasped, heart hammering.

Bucky pulled away only far enough to rest his forehead to hers and panted, chest heaving, eyes closed, and face twisted with pain.

“I-” He began, a heartbreaking crack in his voice then he stopped again, taking a deep breath. “You’re right.” His hand tightened on her hip for an instant before he gently pushed her off his lap, standing before Lev could find her voice to argue, to tell him what her brain was scrambling to form and communicate.

No, don’t go. Not like this, I just meant slow down.

“Bucky-”. Damn her panicking nerves, her flustered heart. Just say it. Spit it out before he got the idea that you didn’t want to continue, that you don’t hunger and ache for him the way he does for you.

If Bucky saw her struggle, if he understood it, he chose to ignore it.

“No, Lev.” He took a step back, fists clenching. “It’s better this way.” He hesitated, then turned to leave.

Lev watched him go, her breath clawing in her throat, torn between wanting to call out to him, and remaining silent. Tears pricked her eyes as she watched his wide, powerful frame, now slumped with regret, disappear through the gate and, when she heard the faint rumble of his bike from down the street, she let them fall.

Why hadn’t she called out to him?

Because.

This was the least painful way to part. He’d explained why he’d behaved the way he had, and while it didn’t change their past, at least it would help Lev lay it to rest. The kiss changed nothing, the fact that it was the most visceral experience of Lev’s life only showed how closeted and sheltered she was, nothing more, nothing as foolish as love or soulmates or passion.

But watching him go right now had hurt worse than anything else, worse than his most venomous, snapped retorts, his sullen silences and the long days without catching even a glimpse of him.

Something inside him called out to something inside her and made the snow globe inside her settle, let her soul take a deep breath. This had been hidden by Lev’s confusion and anxiety, Bucky’s bristling and shields; but he’d peeled a part of himself back last night, dropped the mask of anger long enough for Lev to see the damage beneath, and today he’d fully bared his heart to her, let her see all his grievous wounds. And rather than driving her away, it had cracked something kindred open in her. The load she carried; the balls Lev forever felt like she juggled weren’t so life-or-death; she didn’t feel like she was hanging on by her fingernails and needed to constantly move to stay afloat when he was near her and, while her brain hadn’t yet caught up to this, her heart had.

But it was too late now. The moment was over, he had left, and she was leaving tomorrow.

She needed to drop it.

**************************************************************************

Lev yawned heavily, rubbing at her bleary eyes, not caring that she was most likely smudging her mascara. She hoped briefly that the Karen and her spawn would be on this flight, at least her strident complaints would help keep Lev awake.

After Clint got home, with Steve at his side they’d ordered pizza and sat down to watch gory, campy ‘80’s slasher movies and Lev had done her best to stay present but her brain refused to concentrate, Bucky and her pending departure forefront on her mind. The sorrow and misery on his face broke her heart and she’d hardly slept at all, tossing and turning, Bucky’s words, his gentle touch endlessly haunting her; she lost count of the times she reached for her phone, wanting to call him, but pulling back at the last moment.

Stopping at a coffee kiosk, Lev ordered a black eye and sipped it carefully, inhaling the comforting aroma. Due to her broken sleep, she’d left too early and consequently, had arrived at the airport too early as well and now wandered, pulling along her small carry-on and shouldering her backpack.

Clint had clients this morning and hadn’t been able to accompany her and for that, Lev was grateful. It was hard enough forcing herself to step onto a plane without her brother’s eyes on her as well. Their parting this morning, before Lev had gone out to meet the waiting taxi, had been full of unsaid words and choked back entreaties. More than once Lev caught Clint watching her with forlorn eyes, chewing on his bottom lip like he was fighting not to speak up and beg her to stay.

More than once on the way to the airport Lev opened her mouth to ask the driver to turn around, then closed it again.

Sometimes doing the right thing hurt, sometimes the correct path was the rockiest and Lev knew she would bleed for a long time over this, but it was the best thing to do.

Lev glanced up at a large clock on the wall of the terminal and sighed, they would be boarding soon. She pulled absently on the strap of her backpack and tried not to think about what she was leaving behind. The shop, the life, it had started to grow on her as she’d spent time among Clint and his friends, and she was genuinely sad to be parting from it all.

Especially Bucky. There had been something there, between them, right from the start and it hurt to leave without exploring their connection further, especially after that scorching kiss, but it was happening, she was here, she was leaving soon, and that was it.

She looked down the terminal, gaze trailing absently over the various people hurrying to their destinations, bumping into each other, throwing impatient glances at slower ones and was horrified to feel the prick of tears in her eyes as she acknowledged the fact that she was searching, waiting for Bucky to come running to her, to beg her to stay.

But there was no sign of him.

No. She wouldn’t cry. A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?

The intercom above buzzed, then Lev’s flight was being called to board and she turned, closing off her emotions.

***********************************************************************

Lev grimaced as she swallowed the mouthful of cold coffee, dropping the paper cup in the nearest garbage with a heavy exhale and a frown. When was the last time she’d had time to stop and pour herself a fresh one? Three hours? Four?

Tonight at the Emergency Department was especially chaotic and while Lev revelled in the crush and rush, in the never-ending movement that made it that much easier not to think about her life, it was draining. Ever since she’s arrived home three months ago and called up her mentor to accept his offered position, Lev had done her best to stay in motion, to stay busy and distracted and while she would be paying off the remainder of her student debts left over after all the scholarships she’d won far earlier than she’d anticipated, deep inside something was missing.

An ache had taken residence in her chest and refused to leave.

The worst part was she knew exactly what that ache was and how to cure it, but she couldn’t.

She’d left, and Bucky hadn’t come for her. He’d acknowledged, like her, that regardless of the pain, staying apart was better for both of them and there was no medication or treatment offered in Lev’s ER to combat that.

“Hey,” Kaylee, one of the trauma nurses and Lev’s few friends, bumped her shoulder gently as they both leaned on the unit’s main desk, conserving their energy for the next emergency. “You going to do it?”

Lev fought not to grimace, dropping her head to hide her expression. Kaylee had been trying for the last two weeks to pin Lev down for a blind date with one of her brother’s friends and while the little brunette sprite was persistent, so far Lev had managed to dodge her.

“I don’t know-”

“C’mon. You need to go out. Ever since you visited your brother you’ve been dragging your ass around!” Kaylee was never one to mince words and they’d formed a close friendship during Lev’s residency here, but sometimes the woman was insufferable.

“I have not been dragging my ass.” Lev hissed, trying to mask her irritation. She loved Kaylee and knew she was coming from a place of concern and friendship, but right now…. especially now, Lev didn’t want to hear it.

“He’s nice, tall, has a good job.” Kaylee continued, deciding to take a circuitous route to her point. “He’s really excited to meet you!”

Lev made a face. She’d had a chance at nice, tall and a good job before, and look where it had gotten her, although Bucky, in truth, hadn’t met the ‘nice’ part until just at the end.

“What’s his name again?” Lev stalled for time, furiously figuring out a way to escape.

“Stuart Pierson.”

Stuart. Levka and Stuart Pierson.

Not nearly the same ring as Levka and Bucky Barnes.

STOP IT.

“Kaylee, I can’t. I’ve got back to back shifts for the next week-”

“You know Trent wants them! He’ll take them off your hands!”

“And I’m still moving in-”

“Damn girl how long is that going to take? You bought a studio!”

“I’m just busy right now, okay?”

Kaylee fixed her with a Look, head tilted and hand on hip. “He’s not worth your time, Lev. Forget the gangbanger, okay?”

Lev winced, not for the first time regretting telling Kaylee about Bucky. She’d kept it general, not given his name or any real details about what had happened between them, and now Kaylee had this Hell’s Angels figure in her head, convinced that Lev had been ‘slumming’ it and the best thing to do would be to jump on the nearest WASP, namely Stuart Pierson.

But Bucky wasn’t a hood, and she hadn’t been slumming it. He’d been a decent guy that she’d gotten off on the wrong foot with and, rather than correct that, she’d left.

“Got a new one coming in.” Agnes, the old battle-axe unit clerk broke in. She’d been running the ER longer than anyone else and even the biggest asshole doctors respected and feared her. In truth, she was a secret sweetheart, as long as you provided covert homemade cookies and Starbucks every now and then.

“Got it.” Lev replied, instantly falling into her professional mentality. Although she was hella young compared to other doctors in the hospital, right now she and Dr. Abbott were the two most senior in the ER and he was sleeping in the lounge, an absolute bear to wake up.

Hurrying to the nearest sink, she quickly washed her hands then reached for supplies. Gown, goggles, booties; the ER could get messy rapidly and, as her heart began to beat faster in anticipation, Lev found her worries melting away. Later, after she’d stabilized the patient, after the adrenaline had worn off, it would be back, but Lev lived for this oblivion now.

Agnes called from the desk, relaying the EMT’s report and Lev listened carefully, forming a picture in her mind of what needed to be done.

“MVA, thirty-one year old male, t-boned at an intersection. Multiple breaks, possible internal bleed-” Agnes continued in a professional clip, reading off the man’s blood pressure, pulse ox, breathing rate and other pertinent information in short jargon indecipherable to the average listener.

“Morphine given on-route, but patient is combative-”

Interesting, most people wanted the pain gone, but others were confused and fighting everything, still tangled in the chaos of their accident.

“Multiple LOC in the field but awake now-”

Head injury? On top of internal damage. Lev would need to page the surgeon on call and get a neuro consult.

The sirens became louder and Kaylee joined her, gowned and ready, all grim attention and anticipation. Suddenly, the bus was there, backing up to the bay as the doors flew open. One EMT jumped out and pulled on the gurney, joined by ER staff to unload it.

Lev saw bare skin and blood, heard the EMT speaking but turned her focus on her new patient.

“Trauma One, let’s go!” An oxygen mask covered part of the man’s face and he was fully locked down in a body brace on the stretcher, standard procedure especially with a potential head injury. Lev got glimpses of denim and a torn t-shirt, but most of the man was obscured by swarming nurses and machines, bandages and tubes.

Grabbing her penlight, Lev leaned over the man’s face.

“I’m Dr. Barton, I’m here to help you. I just need to check your pupils, follow the light please. Can you tell me where it hurts?” The words fell from her mouth, well-rehearsed and practiced.

The man tried to speak but his voice was lost in the chaos. Lev peeled back an eyelid and shone her penlight, searching for his pupil’s reaction. First one, then the other, both equally reactive, good.

With a tearing sound, the remains of the man’s t-shirt were cut from his torso and Lev studied him clinically. Plenty of lacerations and contusions, to be expected, and a troubling shadow in the lower quadrant- Jesus the man was cut, and not just by glass, his musculature was incredible and there was something so familiar about the ink-

Oh Jesus.

“Bucky?!” Lev gasped.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #au bucky #au bucky barnes #au bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky and lev #bucky x lev #au bucky romance #au bucky drama #au bucky smut #au bucky fanfic #tattoo bucky #au bucky angst

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otonymous · 5 years ago

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Kinktober - Oct 5th (Swallowing/Collaring): Milk (MLQC Kiro - NSFW)

Description: Get frisky with Kiro this Halloween Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Trigger warnings: swallowing, collaring, costumes, semi-public sex, mild jealousy Word Count: 1355 words (~7 mins of dirty, filthy, Halloween-themed smut) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: My first entry for @alloveroliver’s amazing Kinktober challenge! Many thanks to this incredible person for taking the time out of her undoubtedly busy schedule to organize this event. YOU ROCK! 🤩

Please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, and hope you all enjoy this dirty story! 😂 Happy reading, lovelies!

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

“Wow! You look…absolutely amazing. Gorgeous. I-I can’t even take my eyes off you, haha…”

Savin tries to run his hand through his hair, but the attempt is just as awkward as the way he ogled you in your cat costume — the high collar of his black cape leaving practically no room for movement past the top of his gel-slicked head.

Keeping a polite smile on your face, you discreetly scan the room for the soft flaxen locks you loved to run your fingers through, hoping for a swift conclusion to the uncomfortable conversation.

“Thanks, Savin. I like your costume too! You make a great Dracula, very Bela Lugosi. And I appreciate you extending me an invitation to B.S. Entertainment’s Halloween party.”

Before Kiro’s agent can reply, a firm yet gentle hand snakes about your waist, pulling you close to the side of a warm body — lithe yet strong, lean muscle encased in black leather; buckles and straps criss-crossing the physique that gyrated so well on stage to incite the madness of fans the world over. And beneath a black hood: strands of golden hair.

“Miss Chips! You made it!”

In his eyes, the vast blue of a cloudless sky. And a smile just as luminous to match. But the flex of his arm around you hinted at tension, and before you knew it, you were spun around and escorted off before Savin even had the chance to sputter - Kiro chucking under his breath as he says goodbye on both your behalves.

“What was that? And what are you supposed to be dressed as?” You finally ask when Kiro ushers you into an empty VIP room at the club booked out by his agency, the pounding beat outside falling several decibels lower when the door closes.

“I’m a ninja assassin!” He spreads his arms wide, presenting himself in full glory. Drawing back his cape, Kiro brings his exposed biceps closer, muscles bulging as he flexed to show off the intricate designs drawn in black ink on his skin, smiling in satisfaction to see the awe etched on your face.

“You look like you could totally KO the final boss in a video game!”

“Of course!” Kiro beams. But then, the brightness of his smile dims. “Hmph. Maybe it’s my own bossy agent I need to take out. Can’t leave that guy alone with you for even a second, I swear.”

“Who, Savin?”

“He looked like he was about to swallow you whole. But, I guess I can’t say I blame him…”

The corners of those cerulean eyes crinkle in an impish expression as he scans you from head to toe, humming appreciatively at the cat ears on your head, the combination of your sleek black bodysuit and skirt…and the tail that hung near the base of your spine.

“That’s, um…quite the costume. You look very, very nice, Miss Chips.”

“You like it?! It’s actually the third year in a row that I’ve worn it — I really got my money’s worth! Anna always complains and says I should switch it up for our company’s Halloween party—“

“So, you’re saying that people other than Savin have already seen you in this costume?! Tch, man…” Kiro frowns, rubbing the back of his neck, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of the pouty superstar. Bringing a hand to his face, you force him to look you in the eye.

“Could it be that our superstar ninja is jealous?”

“Yes! Miss Chips is special, for my eyes only.” Placing his hands on his neck, nimble digits in fingerless gloves loosen the silver buckle on a black leather choker. “And I do believe your costume is missing this.”

Looking at the choker lying flat on his palm, the corners of your lips tug into a knowing smile; you had wondered how soft the pliable leather would feel wrapped around your neck.

Circling behind you, the subtle notes of Kiro’s cologne — spicy and sweet — suffuse your senses. “Kittens need collars, don’t they? To show the world who their rightful owners are?”

Then, dropping to a whisper, “Let bad men know that even though they can look, they can never touch…”

His voice is sultry, dripping with sensuality as he breathes against the shell of your ear. And when you sweep your hair aside to bare your neck to your lover, you are rewarded with the sound of his breath hitching in his throat.

“…Unlike the way I can. Isn’t that right, Miss Chips?”

Still carrying the heat of Kiro’s skin, the choker lay warm against your throat — gentle and secure, as if the superstar himself had wrapped his hand around the delicate column of your neck.

But of course, those hands that coaxed beautiful music from his guitar were currently preoccupied with drawing all types of lascivious sounds from your mouth as two fingers, then three, explored between your legs from behind; relentless even as your knees shook, bent over on all fours on the plush sectional as you were.

“Kitty’s more excited than usual today. You’re completely soaked, baby.”

Kiro sweeps your tail to the side as he palms a slow circle over your pussy, and you gasp at the touch of leather from those fingerless gloves, making it harder to come down from your second orgasm around his hand.

Biting your lip in anticipation to hear his fly unzipping behind you, you hike your skirt up even more, further exposing yourself to his hungry, blue eyes.

“Hmm. You’re so well-behaved, Miss Chips. I say a reward is in order, what do you think?”

Slowly stroking your collar with one hand, Kiro gently guided his cock into your entrance with the other. And all you could manage in response to his question is a desperate nod, the furry tips of your prosthetic ears tickling his skin as he bent over you.

Then, with one enthusiastic thrust, the superstar is buried to the hilt, leaving you clawing at the seat beneath you, desperate to suppress a scream of pleasure that surely would’ve given you away despite the noise in the club.

“Mmm, you feel good, Miss Chips. So good, ah…especially when you tighten like that.”

His fingers graze the sensitive skin at the small of your back before wrapping around your tail, pulling soft but insistent as his breath leaves him in shudders — the rhythm of his hips building faster and faster until your throat became uncomfortably dry from panting in response to his onslaught.

And when those long fingers gathered the arousal that dripped down your thigh to draw smooth, tight circles about your clit, the act has you convulsing as the tension broke in your body, clamping down on Kiro’s cock even as he pulled out — hand pumping hard to chase his own release outside the warmth of your body until he spilled hot over the small of your back.

Still shaking even when you sense Kiro’s finger tracing a haphazard pattern across the skin on which he came, you gradually open your eyes when you feel his lips pressing affectionately upon each lid.

“You must be parched, kitty…screaming the way you did. Here. Your reward.”

Collar snug as you craned your neck in Kiro’s direction, you stick your tongue out, obediently lapping up the liquid that coated his index finger — pink on white. Blue eyes are transfixed to see your tongue sweeping from corner to corner of those perfect lips, dutifully licking up any and all remnants of Kiro’s release until that, too, is swallowed.

Then, drawing even closer, Kiro whispers, “Good girl. You've earned your milk, Miss Chips,” before his lips close the gap completely.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kiro, where have you been?! Several producers wanted to meet you and—“

Savin stops short when he spots the leather choker, looking back and forth between you and Kiro, eyes narrowed to see it adorning your neck instead of the blonde with twinkling blue eyes, who says, with a hint of challenge in his voice:

“Now her costume is complete! Don’t you agree, Savin?”

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Thanks for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#alloverkinktober #kinktober #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mlqc kiro #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #mlqc smut #smut #swallowing kink #collaring kink #fanfiction #my writing #elex

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artemuerto · 5 years ago

Photo

Pairing: Bane/Dr. Jonathan Crane

Trigger Warnings: Non-Con elements. Extremely Dubious Consent. Power Imbalance.

Autor Note: I ended reading a story after i found out a couple of ‘crack-ships’ on ao3 because i miss Cillian and wanted to see more Tommy x Male Reader fics (?) somehow i ended on Batman tag and then this happened before i went to sleep.

Someone has to take the internet away from me. And this is all Cillian’s fault.

Read on AO3

Indeed

A little mouse indeed the little doctor was.

Being walked into to the cave that meant Bane’s chamber was oddly comforting. It meant he was no longer an easy pray from all the sleazy, greasy hands that hoped to get a piece of him once he was found. The man standing by the open door waited until Bane gave the Doctor his attention to finally leave.

Jonathan was at lost on what to do. He usually had a good idea on how to deal with people, what they thought and the possible reactions could they have, but in front of the fearless man that was Bane, Crane couldn’t possibly decipher the other’s thoughts. With a silent order and hand movement, Jon came closer to the man sitting at the center, legs spread wide. In a shivering pace, the doctor came close and stood still between Bane’s thighs, even with inches of height separating them Bane had the upper hand and they both knew it.

“Will you take it off?” He questioned Bane over his mask and the man simply said no with a gesture. Jon started to undress, even when he didn’t like the idea of being fully naked in front of Bane, those were his only clothes and he had to take care of them, although knowing that staying under Bane’s protection no other convict would harm him, he could never be to careful. Under watchful eyes, Jonathan stripped and trembled due to the cold air, Mr. Bane seemed pleased with his actions. Kneeling, he caught the others darken eyes. “May I?” Bane wasn’t a man of slow movements and useless foreplay, within his clothes he felt himself already hardening thanks to the beautiful sight the doctor was. All pristine skin, pure as snow with the lack of tainted hardships, bare from hair except for a thin happy trail so light it would almost disappear in shadows. However, he could see a distinguished sparkle of something raw in the doctor’s eyes that made him remain in his place, almost curious as to see what the other would do next.

Jonathan began to toy with the man obvious outlet under the fabric and even when he was not fully interest in sex, he felt an almost clinical curiosity over the man psyche and now he could and would explore the extended reactions to his body. He could see the tiny changes, now they were close, such as the black pools full of lust, and for a moment Jonathan feared Bane would take him and go, however the man left him continue and shortly praise him with a heavy hand on his hair. The touch offered an unknown comfort to both of them.

The doctor took fully control of his body, slowly giving away his tension, relaxing his shoulder and growing bold enough to lay his cheek on Bane’s thigh as he finally undid the trouser and had an open view of the man’s cock. Jon had the brief idea of making Bane come with his hands and mouth but the man himself had foreseen his intentions, so shortly after Jon’s face was blotchy with natural cherry blossom and shiny with saliva, Bane held him by the hair and manhandled him enough to arrange him on his lap.

He had a tight grip on Jonathan’s hips locking him in and taking away any possibility of escaping. Once again Crane was under Bane’s mercy, any deceiving attempt of gaining power and control over the situation, was easily forgotten revealing their true colors and what their relationship would be from now on. Jon felt the hard grit that Bane was, slicking him almost sweetly in juices as a taste of what was to come; he didn’t know what to do with his hands and with a silent plea Jonathan left them on top of Bane’s shoulders, a plain but electrifying touch.

“Mr. Bane.” He whispered in a short breath calling for his attention. Bane finally looked annoyed at being denied and in retaliation scratched Jon’s skin leaving rows of scorching heat; as a result, Jonathan leaned on him arching his back. “Fingers, Mr. Bane.” As soon after, the doctor opened his mouth waiting for his request. Bane looked unimpressed. “You must know the difference from an unwilling body.” Crane was slowly pushing it, to him was obvious that Bane didn’t care for anything else at the moment, his need was stated and pulsing between his legs, and they both knew nothing stopped the bigger man from pushing Jonathan onto the mattress and fucking him raw if that was what he needed. However, a quietly sufficient curiosity was peaked so Bane let it rest, bringing two of his fingers into the doctor’s mouth. Bane would fuck the smugness out of the little doctor.

Even knowing what was next, no mental preparation was enough for the sharp pain that crushed his veins once Bane fingered him smoothly and non-stop until he bottomed fully. In an unspoken rule, Jonathan left his hands where they laid and no amount of discomfort would make him take them away; once again the man seemed pleased with his course of action and rewarded him with another finger. He tried the best he could on keeping his suffering to himself, it was as demeaning as expected to be in that position, to give fully control over himself to someone who he didn’t even trust yet, and so he wouldn’t give Bane or any other listener the pleasure of hear him begging for anything.

Bane felt himself entertained in playing around with the doctor’s body, pushing out, fucking away little whines, tiny squeaks of pain that reminded him of a little mouse. A little mouse indeed the little doctor was. And he would make him squeak and sing songs for his ears only.

Sliding into Jon’s body was a hard task, the doctor’s body still fought him even after his treatment but Bane doubt he had done much for the doctor more than for his own pleasure; in a harsh trust Bane found himself fully surrounded of tight warm heat and it was almost marveled by the thought as much as he was able to hear Jonathan’s whimpers over his mask. The doctor arched his back and was unable to hold himself steady anymore, his muscles screamed what he stayed silent for but even his exhaustion was impossible to hide when Bane kept moving inside him. Jon held onto Bane for leverage and panted against his mask.

Jonathan opened his eyes —not realizing he had them closed— after Bane shifted him with a heavy hand on his hip and the man hid a crocked smiled from the doctor. Tears were fucked out of his eyes but a new sign of twisted pleasured reached them both after realizing Jon’s cock stood hard between them. Bane would leave the doctor spend, full of himself and watch it drip away from the other’s legs.

Catching each other’s eyes, they continued to move as one, feeling the thin line between pain and pleasure slowly become blurry in their needs. He left himself being taken into Bane’s embrace and answered his trust in smooth waves of his hips. Jon flustered his lashes at Bane and only when the man stopped his rapid trusting after coming painting his insides in warm cum, he fucked himself at his own pace. Moving at his own whim taking back his control and pushing Bane into borderline overstimulation, the bright eye doctor creamed himself and Bane’s chest.

Jonathan breathed harshly trying to recover melting into Bane’s touch in the process until he lost his footing. The man manhandled him once again to now leave him resting on where he previously sat and left him go fulfilling his desire of watching himself dripped out from Jon’s legs.

One last time, Jonathan sobbed quietly feeling his body finally relax.

“I told you, you had nothing to fear, Little Mouse.”

#Dr. Jonathan Crane #Bane #Bane/Jonathan Crane #Batman Nolan Movies #Cillian Murphy #Tom Hardy #This is Cillian's fault #in english #mis escritos #Arte Muerto

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nad-zeta · 5 years ago

Text

Match up ｡◕‿◕｡

Hello, not exactly sure what to do so I’ll just try to explain to the best of my abilities. I’m an intp and kinda short (5'2). I get angry real quick when I’m stressed otherwise I’m not aggressive. I like learning new things and talking about things like the ocean and creatures living in it. I really like animals and have recently adopted two cats. I avoid most people. I’m easily moved by sob stories and will help if someone’s really in need. I also speak up for what I think is right and against injustice. I’m also really funny and frequently ‘roast’ people. When I’m comfortable with someone I show them my various facial expressions (which is hilarious), I get startled easily and scream too. I like ghost stories around the campfire but then I’m scared to go to the washroom alone. I tell my friends about the new tea (drama/gossip) but if my friends fight, I try to ease out the situation😳 Basically I am cute and so are you

Hi, there love!🌈 Thank you so much for the request! You are such a cutie😆! Sorry for making ya wait soooo long! I hope you enjoy it, dear and I hope you have a good day! ｡◕‿◕｡

So I match you with………….. Masamune

Hehehe I was thinking Mitsunari at first, but as I kept reading the one-eyed dragon just popped into my head and I just think the two of you cuties would be perfect together and here is why!

You are so cute and smol the first time Masamune picked you up onto his hose while you were trying to run for your life, all he could think was damn what a cute little kitten. He brought you to the audience hall, where you were faced with the very man you had saved earlier that evening and a group of unknown strangers. Honestly, your patience was starting to wear thin, and you were feeling exhausted, which just made you feel more grumpy. Nobunaga is his usual demanding voice proclaimed that you were to be the new Oda princess, as a reward for saving his life.

You were pretty chilled with that until Nobunaga had traced the curve of your cheek with his fingertips. You legit smacked his hand away, and before you knew it, you had pissed of Hideyoshi by “Striking” his lord. “Oh, please, I barely even touched him.” It was now a stand off, between you and Hideyoshi, and you were ready to fight. Luckily before anything serious could happen Masamune picked you up by the waist to pull you away from Hideyoshi, while Mitushide and Ieyasu held Hideyoshi back before he could send you to an early grave. Finally, Nobunaga spoke up to calm Hideyoshi down. He was smirking while the whole affair unfolded, you truly were the most amusing woman.

Masamune carried you out of the audience hall over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Hey put me down, I’m calm, I’m calm.” “hmmm, I don’t know you still sound pretty angry to me kitten.” He carried you all the way to his manor garden, where he made the two of you some tea and snacks. You were a little quiet at first, but you found your self-opening up slowly to Masamune in no time. This boi literally talked non stop to fill the silence, asking you all sorts of random questions. He loved the way various expressions flashed across your face with each random question asked. The two of you spent the afternoon quietly chatting and laughing, and Masa found himself wanting to get to know you even better

He made a point of coming by to pester you every day. He would take you to tea houses, on market trips, and on random horse rides to his favourite restaurants. You low key loved spending time with the one-eyed dragon, and his jokes were hilarious. You always found yourself laughing at his goofy jokes and boy oh boy was it the best day of Masamune’s life when he found out you liked roasting people. The two of you would often get into roasting battles, flinging the funniest comments at each other and then bursting out in laughter. The two of you especially loved teaming up to roast Mitsuhide. Alone sneki boy could destroy you with his quick wit, but together you and Masamune gave sneki boi a run for his money. The two of you would also gang up on the snarky porcupine just to get a few laughs, especially when he is bullying the sweet angel Mitsunari. You honestly can’t stand injustice, and you love sweet Mitsunari so much, so whenever anyone speaks badly of the cutie, you are there to fight for his honour. It is something that actually really draws Masamune toward you. Your willingness to fight for what’s right and for justice.

Masamune being the spontaneous person he is would often whisk you off with him to random cool new places. The two of you would usually go hiking up mountains to enjoy a picnic for two, explore caves and tell each other scary stories by the campfire which you always low key regretted, cause you would then get creeped out by every and any sound you hear. Luckily for you, Masa is there to make jokes and soothe the fear and anxiety. Usually, after the campfire stories, you are too scared to fall asleep alone. Masamune will wake up to your tossing and turning in the middle of the night, and pull you into a big bear hug holding you tight. “Go to sleep kitten, I promise ill protect you from the invisible monster.” You felt so warm and safe in his arms and sleep instantly found you. You couldn’t help but feel like you belonged in his safe warm arms and little did you know Masamune felt the exact same way. He had long ago fallen in love with you, he just wasn’t sure how to tell you

Until finally, the day came when he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He knew you loved the ocean and ocean animals, so he took you on a trip to one of the most beautiful beaches you have ever seen. The water was crystal clear. He told you that he loved playing in this spot as a child because of the clear water and all the different marine life that lived within. He dragged you into the water and told you to look closely. You were amazed at all the different coloured fish swimming all around you. Masamune handed you some homemade snorkels, and the two of you went snorkelling. Afterwards, he set up a little picnic on the beach for the two of you. You told him all about the fun facts you had picked up from your studies of the ocean and the animals within. He loved the way your eyes sparkled in delight whenever you would talk about the things you loved.

The two of you sat on the beach and watched the sunset, it was honestly the perfect day. As the sunset it started to get a little chilly, so Masamune shrugged of his hoari and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you closer and put his arm around you to protect you from the cold wind. You looked up to smile at him and thank him, not realizing how close you were. Your noses accidentally brushed together and honestly Masamune couldn’t hold it back any more. He gently cupped your cheeks and whispered that he loved you against your lips before giving you the sweetest of kisses.

Of course, Masamune being Masamune, the second he felt you kissing him back, it grew more wild and passionate. Honestly, at that moment, you felt like the happiest person alive. The two of you walked back home hand in hand in the last rays of the setting sun. If you could, the two of you would stay there longer, but both of you knew the consequences for making mother dearest worry.

You and Masamune made the cutest couple. You would make all the maid super jealous whenever the two of you were together. Especially when the two of you played with the tiger cub in the garden, you were the only one that ever got to see the real Masamune. As the two of you played with the cub, you would always, playfully roast each other, this usually leads to a bit of a tickle fight. Which would leave both of you breathless from all the laughter. In those moments, Shogetsu would always take advantage of the lack of defences and lick your face causing you to break out into laughter all over again, while trying to get the playful cub off you. This, of course, gave his owner enough time to catch his breath and start the tickle match anew.

Masamune was honestly the perfect man. He would always take you out for tea to make sure you don’t overwork yourself. During these tea dates, he would always have fresh new piping hot tea to spill. Which you absolutely loved, the two of you would usually sit and gossip about all the castle drama, over sweets and tea. The two of you just always seemed to be on the same wavelength, as when someone said or did something while the two of you were together, you would give each other “the look”, which meant that you were totally gonna talk about that later.

Cause Masamune knew you loved animals so much, he actually got you a little tiger cub of your own. He knew you were missing your two adopted cats from the future, so he hoped that he could ease the loss with a new little cat. He had found the little cub much like his brother abandoned in the woods. His mother had been killed by a hunter, and he was left to die. When Masa saw him, he knew you would want him to take him in and care for it, and that’s how Shogetsu got a new little brother.

Masamune honestly loved everything about you. He loved the way you squeaked in surprise every time he would surprise you in the hallway. He loved the hilariously funny facial expressions you made, like seriously he lives for them. His favourite, however, is the flustered look you give him after he pulls away from giving you the most scandalously passionate kiss right in the middle of the hallway.

The two of you cuties can often be found playing in the garden together with your two lil tiger cubs or cuddled up in Masamune’s arms. Not many know this, but Masamune is actually just one big teddy bear that loves to cuddle and snuggle. He will often pull you into his arms and cuddle you while he does his paperwork. When he is done, he will usually nuzzle his nose in your neck and enjoy the quiet moment of peace the two of you share

Other potential matches……………… Mitsunari

Hope you enjoyed it dear!❤❤@juststalkingsstuff

#matchups #masamune matchup #ikesen matchup #matches #match ups #masamune date #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen masamune #submission

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himbowelsh · 4 years ago

Note

you writing a chuckler alphabet would melt me to a puddle!

valentines day alphabet ( accepting! )

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

Enthusiastically. He doesn’t hold back --- Lew gives smacks on the back that rattle your teeth, hugs that lift you off the ground, and compliments that linger in your head for days afterwards. It never occurs to him to hold back --- he’s very open about his affection,

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

I’ll put it this way --- little Lew was not allowed in his mother’s garden, because he was a walking hazard. Where he went, mud pies followed. Nothing has changed in 20 years. Doesn’t know what a nice bouquet looks like --- he genuinely thinks the bright, dyed rainbow ones you pick up at the drugstore are nice, and will bring them home sometimes just as a surprise.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

Chocolate? Where chocolate? Yes chocolate, give him all the chocolate today please! (He loves chocolate, but is unfortunately bad at sharing. He thinks he’s subtle, hiding them, when Hershey kisses are literally spilling out of his pockets.)

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Look, he’s happy doing pretty much anything, but has a soft spot for fireworks? Seriously. His perfect date is the 4th of July, by a lake somewhere, watching the sun go down while eating ice cream cones, waiting for those colors to explode in the sky. When they start, his partner leans against his chest, and he gets to hear every inhale, every gasp of delight... it’s heaven for him.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Definitely a hugger. For as often as he ends up lifting people off their feet --- something he genuinely doesn’t mean to do, it just happens --- his hugs are extremely comforting. Their solid, reassuring, just the right level of tender... Chuckler hugs like he’s trying to shield someone from exploding shrapnel, except in most cases the shrapnel is metaphorical. (Hopefully. He also will, and has, shielded people from exploding shrapnel.)

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Oh, buddy. This man flirts like it’s going out of style. His lead-in is usually a joke, and it’s usually stupid --- but if he can make someone laugh, he’s already won half the battle. Lew’s charming, and earnest in a way that’s hard to turn down flat. He’s got a particular twinkle in his eyes that draws people in, and when he winks at them... well, flirting’s always come pretty easy to him.

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Well, he’s not good at it, but he sure tries his best. Lew loves giving out gifts. He doesn’t need a reason --- if he sees some nice trinkets at the store, or something that just reminds him of someone, he’ll pick it up (usually without much thought to the price --- not that he’s careless, just too generous with his own wallet). Unfortunately, these gifts range from bizarre to tacky. No one knows why he thought a box of alligator erasers was a good gift for his eighty-five year old grandmother, but hey, at least he was thinking of her. It’s a weird habit, but it’s sweet.

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

Not as quickly as you’d expect. Lew gives pieces of his heart away, rather than handing out the whole thing. He’s not an idiot. Friendliness comes easy to him, but trust takes a lot longer to build, and love itself isn’t something he rushes into blind. Winning Lew over is like climbing a massive flight of stairs, one block at a time.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Did you mean his three favorite words in the English language? He loves saying it --- loves, loves, loves it. Not that he’ll be the first person in the relationship to say it, because this is one of the few things he’ll get self-conscious over... but as soon as his partner says it first, his eyes just light up, and he can’t say it back fast enough. After that, he says it all the time --- sometimes casually, without even thinking about it; sometimes just to make them smile, murmured against their cheek in a teasing voice; sometimes just to remind them, whispered into the crown of their head at night; sometimes just to hear it, when their mouth is on his and breath comes heavily between them both.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Genuinely not? He seems completely immune to jealousy --- it has his friends a little worried. What human being can be that confident? The real reason, of course, isn’t that Lew doesn’t believe anyone would ever cheat on someone with abs like his (though lowkey he doesn’t), but his unshakeable trust in his partner. He doesn’t believe they’d ever hurt him, so he’s not consciously reading into instances of them being friendly with people --- or those people being overly friendly with them. He doesn’t see it as being naive, though some people might disagree.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

He’s the sort of kisser you write home about. One look at him, and it’s obvious he’s got a big mouth, but he knows how to use it... and boy, does he ever. Chuckler isn’t shy. While one hand boldly explores his partner’s body, caressing every interesting curve it comes across, his mouth works hard at memorizing theirs. Lots of lip biting, sucking, leaving love marks without intending to... he gets so into the kiss that he groans once or twice, and that might actually make him blush, but a bit of encouragement from his partner eggs him on. He does get worked up quickly... but as soon as his partner draws a line, he scrambles to respect it. Chuckler doesn’t push, and he doesn’t demand anything his partner isn’t enthusiastically comfortable giving.

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

So many people. He can’t make a list. Lew loves casually; he’s got the sort of big heart inclined to feel warmth towards good people. His love has various degrees, but it’s all still love, isn’t it? A grocery store cashier let him off twenty-five cents short, and he fell a little in love right there.

M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?

Depends on his mood, and exactly how awake he is. Sometimes Lew’s one of those obnoxious morning people who want to be out at 7am to jog; sometimes he doesn’t get to bed until 7am, because he was up all night with his friends. Either way, he’s at his most mushy-romantic in those soft dawn hours, laying in bed beside his partner, where he’s able to just hold them close and smile down at their sleeping face.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

He’s a talker. It’s a little ridiculous. Even with his head between someone’s legs (a particular favorite move) he’ll still be muttering things up to them, wry comments and casual observations that get them blushing bright red. Thankfully, he also puts his mouth to work in other, much more effective ways. Loves having his hair pulled on --- his scalp is very sensitive --- and loves being ridden / guided by his partner. (A sub? Possibly.) Very vocal lover, because he doesn’t try to hold anything back, and he’d love a partner who was the same way (the neighbors would hate him if he wasn’t so friendly otherwise). Has a lot of stamina, and a lot of power... but when he goes over the edge, he goes over the edge hard, and needs to grip his partner to anchor him on the way down. Passes out very quickly afterwards.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

I’m not saying he wouldn’t try to write love poetry for a partner he’s head-over-heels with, ‘cause he’s exactly that level of corny... I’m saying he shouldn’t. Lew isn’t... bad with words, he’s just very blunt, in a way that sometimes hits like a rock over the head. His filter isn’t always there. He’s learned through experience that once words are out, there’s no taking them back, but he usually can’t help speaking his mind/feelings aloud anyways.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Someone who doesn’t take things too seriously. He’s attracted to bright personalities, warm laughs and beaming smiles; people who know how to laugh at themselves are endlessly attractive to him. Maybe someone with great hips (he’s crazy about hips). They’d have to have enough energy to keep up with him. Someone who he can take care of, but who will also treat him gently --- sometimes he just wants to feel someone’s hand stroking through his curls while being told that he’s good enough, that he’ll be alright, and his partner would need to be able to look past his strong surface and see that inner vulnerability. Someone who loves animals --- and if they’re small enough for him to pick up, amazing.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

Yes! Yes, absolutely, he’s going to propose, and he’d love to be the one to propose first. Actually, he’d lowkey start forming a plan about six months into the relationship. When it really gets serious, really starts going places... that’s when his imagination sets to work. It starts hypothetically --- if he was going to ask, what would be the right way to do it? What would his partner like best? The thought lingers in his mind, a plan slowly but surely taking shape, until he finally buys the ring. Chuckler would let his partner choose the location, taking them to their favorite place, and find some way to slip the ring into something sweet --- if they go out for dinner, it’ll be dessert, but if they go for a stroll or somewhere exciting, he’ll make sure to get ice cream cones on the way back. Sure, there’s an off-chance that the ring could end up eaten, but... risk vs reward, right?

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

Romantic to his core. Lew just... isn’t good at the whole cynicism thing. He doesn’t have a bitter bone in his body. Plus, romancing just comes... naturally to him? He’s not sophisticated about it, but he likes taking care of people, and has a talent for finding the color in mundane things. He’ll take his partner to a local firefly hotspot in the summer, or hide heart-shaped confetti inside a balloon and give it to them before popping it... silly, exciting things that make them smile, which is all he could ask for.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

There was this cute little blonde girl in his third grade class, whose pigtails he always used to tug on (they were so bouncy!), till one day she reeled around and smacked him in the mouth. Ahh, young love.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

Sure he does! He sees all those old couples married after so many years together, and still as in love as the day they met --- if that’s not true love, then what is? That’s the kind of love Lew longs for. Even when he’s old and his joints crack when he walks and he always smells kind of weird, someone who’ll still love him like they always have. A love that grows with you, instead of letting itself be outgrown.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

... no? A girl turned him down for a Valentine date once, but he figured she already had a date, so he wasn’t hurt. (Lew gets disappointed, but bounces back quickly. His brain is basically silly putty, it can stretch an excuse for anything.)

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

He loves it! A day just to go on dates, be romantic, and eat chocolate? What’s not to love? He’s made a game out of going store-to-store, trying to find the biggest stuffed animal, which he’ll then inevitably give as a gift to whoever will take it. (That’s why Leckie has a stuffed bear bigger than him sitting in his attic. No, he doesn’t want it, but no, he doesn’t know what the hell to do with it.)

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

Yes, of course! Even before he’s in a relationship, he knows for sure he wants to get married someday. He’s genuinely excited about it.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

Sure, but not casually. If he has a pet name for his partner --- “baby” or “honey” being his favorites, he’ll only use them during teasing moments, or particularly intimate ones.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

He does, but he’s not, like... aggressive with it. Lew isn’t out here to kick anyone’s ass unless he needs to. Can they talk it out? Yeah, let’s do that first. Does someone need to be escorted off the premises for causing trouble? He can do that, he can be hella intimidating when he needs to be. As a rule, Lew won’t swing unless someone else throws the first punch... but he won’t sit around like a stone if someone he loves is being threatened, either.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

He’s no saint. This man’s got rock-hard abs and could lift another human being over his head with one hand. More people want to sleep with Lew than he has the energy to sleep with. 9 - 10 partners is a good estimate, but it might be higher. He honestly could not say.

#meteora-fc #chuckler juergens #oof i think i fell a little in love here #the pacific #headcanons

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sserpente · 6 years ago

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A/N: Request from @scorpionchild81. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. ;-)

Words: 2349 Warnings: slight dub-con, smut

Loki was… complicated, but who were you to judge? Your job was it to clean the Avengers compound, to cook for the heroes when they were hungry, to wash their laundry, make their beds… well, all the things a maid was responsible for. In return, your salary was heavenly. You were good at what you were doing, Stark had never had a reason to complain.

It was Loki who made your time at the compound rather nerve-wrecking, if anything because of the scrutinising and penetrating looks he occasionally shot you—not to mention the many times you caught him staring at you and sometimes… sometimes the teasing innuendos sending shockwaves of heat through your body, gathering unceremoniously between your legs.

You were not afraid of the God of Mischief. Stark had ensured you that you were going to be absolutely safe and had nothing to fear from Loki. Nevertheless though, you were intimidated. He was handsome. He was charming. He was dangerous and he was playful. And you had fallen for him, head over heels. Naturally, of course, you would never tell him that. Instead, you let your fantasy consume you, let your unconscious take care of your unfulfilled desires. Your dreams came all by themselves and you were not to complain—waking up in the middle of the night to get yourself some relief was not the worst reason for sleep deficit after all.

It was one of those typical sleepless nights. Bad dreams kept him up, robbing him of restful slumber. Loki decided to give up and instead read a book in Stark’s library as he did so often. As quiet as a cat, he moved through the dark hallway, in no need of any light other than the pale moonlight from outside as he could see well enough not to trip. He took a deep breath when he passed your room, glancing down at his feet to see if you were still awake.

No. It was dark, no light coming from your room, yet the door was open just a smidge—just enough for him to peek inside. The God of Mischief frowned when he suddenly heard you moan quietly, ready to conjure up a dagger and defend whatever was attacking you in your sleep.

It took him another moment to realise you were dreaming. Were you having nightmares as well? He had never thought you could be a tormented and hurting soul either, sharing his grief and pain which he carried inside him at all times. You were always so… cheerful, so… disgustingly nice, even to him. Granted, you worked here. The maids on Asgard had been forced to show respect and kindness even when all they wished was to kick him in the shin as well, there was no need to try and interpret your friendliness towards him.

But Loki was beyond attempting to figure out whether he could pique your interest, he knew someone as soft and innocent as you would hardly wish to be with him of all people in the compound… no. He would content himself with how flustered he managed to make you whenever he was around; after all, that was what he was good at. The Master of Mischief. The Trickster.

He almost laughed out loud as he glanced further into the room, for he, Loki, was smitten with a mortal woman.

He flinched when you moaned again, watching you thrash briefly on the bed. Only you did not sound like you were having a bad dream at all.

Were you having a… sex dream? Loki smirked. Naughty little thing… Quite unable to help himself, he slid through the small gap and quietly closed to the door behind him, drowning himself in utter darkness as he stepped closer to the dark spot that your bed had become upon the lack of any light coming from the pale moonlight shining through the window in the hallway.

He wasn’t so sure what exactly he was doing. Thousands of delicious ways of blackmailing you with his nightly observations tumbled through his mind, dizzying his mind with electrifying waves of pure mischief, the very magic pumping through his veins. Oh, he could use this intimate and private information against you, draw a selfish advantage out of his presence in your room.

Or… was it curiosity that had pulled him to your sleeping form like invisible whips curling around his limbs? Loki was very well aware of the fact most people experienced orgasms during sex dreams, waking them up all sweaty and flustered. That. That was it. He craved to see you let go, to let all tension flow from your body, to moan and thrash on the bed, for your throbbing, dripping cunt to convulse around his long fingers…

He gasped when he realised his loud breathing, his broad chest heaving with unfulfilled lust and desire. If he just… slid his hand under the covers… to feel the warmth of your thighs under his cool touch… between your legs… oh, he would find you so wet for him. He considered for a moment, his blue eyes narrowing in the darkness.

Whyever should he not? He heard you moan again, barely audible whimpers escaping your slightly parted lips he wanted to cover with hot kisses. At the end of the day, he was a man. A god, yes, but also a man. A man with carnal desires and thirst he was desperate to quench, more so now than ever before.

Swallowing thickly, he felt his cheeky smirk grow as he removed the blanket from your body and slowly pulled down your knickers. Goose flesh spread both on his and your skin as his fingers slid across your beautiful legs, a priceless view he aimed to memorise… but then he lay his mischievous eyes on your pubic bone, gently prying your thighs apart to reveal your glistening petals to him.

He longed to dive right in, to bury his face between your legs and taste your wetness until you would wake screaming in pure ecstasy. Loki growled darkly. It was a hungry, animalistic sound echoing through the room. Lifting his hand carefully, he brought it up to your sex, cupping it gently to feel the heat radiating off of it, taking a deep breath in a desperate attempt to keep his composure, to ignore the growing and aching bulge in his black leather trousers for a while longer…

“Loki…” You suddenly whispered, making him jerk and turn his head, forcing his gaze from your revealed womanhood back to your face. He must have imagined it. Surely, you would not speak his name. He wondered what it was you were dreaming. He could, of course, simply cover your forehead with his palm to force his mind into yours, to delve into your memories and thoughts… but for some reason he could not quite understand himself, he decided against it. Would it be painful, perhaps, to see another man in your dream, pleasing you relentlessly when it was him who wanted to bring you bliss, to make you feel good for him? And where did this sudden urge to be selfless come from?

Loki remembered those way too eager royal concubines practically queuing up outside Thor’s and his chambers every night, hoping they would choose one of them to spend the night with—mainly because they knew that for very obedient and satisfactory services they would receive rewards beyond their imagination. It was mainly jewellery they hoped for, sometimes a leather pouch full of golden coins for them to spend leisurely. They had been entertaining for sure but Loki had never bothered about their sexual peaks or if they had any at all as long as they sated his lust.

With you… he wanted to see and feel you come undone for him, he wanted to have you squirm beneath his teasing touches.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips, fuelling his intentions. His mouth fell open when two of his fingers pulled apart your folds, collecting some of your arousal on his fingers to spread it over your clit. The secret source of all pleasure was peeking out of its hiding spot already, desperate for attention. Who was he to deny it to you?

Loki had barely touched the little nub when you moaned again, your hips bucking up almost automatically to respond to his advances, making him gasp in response. He would spill his cum in his trousers if you continued like this… and he hadn’t even properly started!

Slowly and intimately, he began to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves with his fingers, coaxing it into giving in to the pleasure it received until your legs fell open even wider on their own, your back arching.

“Loki…” You whispered again, his name coming from your lips like a prayer, making him growl hungrily. Would you taste as sweet and soft as you felt beneath his fingertips? For sure you would… and this time he had not misunderstood. You were dreaming of him. The realisation hit him like a hot wave, sending an entire sea of arousal through his own body.

He had warmed you up quickly, on the brink of orgasm within mere minutes. Your juices were gushing all over his fingers when he swallowed thickly, replacing his finger with his thumb to sink two of his long digits inside of you, exploring your wet and hot cave and rapidly finding your g-spot, fuelling your excitement even further.

Lazily and placidly at first, he began to stroke you, his thumb never ceasing to pamper your clit, yet he soon picked up his pace, if anything to hear your quick and heavy breathing and those pleasurable little moans and whimpers of yours rewarding his ears.

He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your orgasm drawing nearer and nearer. Loki was unable to take his curious eyes off of you. He wanted to see it. He needed to see you cum. All those times he had carelessly dropped items around the compound and in his room to get you to kneel on the floor or bend down heartily with your perfect backside in broad view, to pick them up… how many times had he imagined pressing you against the wall, to fuck you senseless and impale you with his hard cock, depraving you for any other, mortal man?

You were panting when your eyes fluttered open, your heart pounding like a steam hammer. Oh… biting your lower lip you let the pleasure cursing through your body consume you, your dream still lingering in your mind like white fog on a cold and fresh morning in the forest.

You had dreamt of Loki again, how he had grabbed fistfuls of your hair to pull you close and bury his face in your neck to inhale your scent, how he had ripped your clothes off your body and chuckled darkly when you moaned and how he had sheathed himself deep inside your core, screwing you senseless all the while making you climax again and again and again… but oh, you were still so worked up, so close…

Your eyes widened once they had finally gotten used to the blackness around you as you made out a dark figure looming above you, realising that there was a hand between your legs. Then there was Loki’s mischievous smirk and a greedy, hungry sparkling in his stunning blue eyes. Gasping for air both in shock and pleasant surprise, you aimed to protest, to scream at him, push his hand away and lunge at him for assaulting you. There was no time for that. Loki’s skilled fingers forced you into one of the most intense and breath-taking orgasms you must have ever experienced. You came undone looking him straight in the eye, contracting around his fingers as they kept pumping in and out of you frantically, drowning them with your juices. Your whole body jerked, in his control, his possession, unable to obey you any longer.

But… had you actually wanted him to stop, really? No. The irrational, naughty and depraved part of you… that part wanted him to continue taking orgasms from you, as many as he pleased.

Only when you had calmed from your high again, your mind still drowsy and feeling dizzy did Loki remove his fingers from your dripping cunt, his smirk growing even wider. Your dream had become reality and it was the most delicious reality you could have ever imagined.

Biting your lower lip, you sat up, revealing your thin nightgown, glancing up at him expectantly, waiting, impatiently, what he was going to do next. Memories of him giving you suggestive glares during the day flashed before your eyes, helping you put the puzzle pieces together.

“Tell me you want me in your bed,” you heard him growl with a start, his voice dark and low, oozing with lust and desire. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Swallowing thickly, you felt your eyes widen once more.

“Naughty little thing, you were dreaming of me.” He continued almost threateningly but not without a playful tone complimenting his downright malicious smirk.

By now, your still very prominent arousal had taken over your mind completely. Unable to think, your lips parted, desperate to speak to him. In fact, what if you were still dreaming?

“I want you in my bed, Loki,” you heard yourself say quietly. He was quite unable to comprehend what you had said. Nothing would ever make him ravish a woman against her will and now here you were, the mortal who had managed to turn his head… asking him to join her in bed. Surely, he was the one dreaming now. “I want you… please.”

It was all he needed to hear. Your heart skipped a beat when he growled once more in an animalistic manner and then crawled under the covers, hovering above you like a hungry wolf about to devour its delicious prey.

In future, he would wander about the dark hallways and pass your room at night a lot more often.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I’d be flattered if you supported me on KoFi! kofi.com/sserpente (or hit the “Support me” button on my blog) ♥

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let-it-show · 5 years ago

Text

Bringing Back Bears

I fought through my mood to do a little writing on the nerdy Elsa love that’s been floating around! I mean, given that this is wildlife in a forest with magic spirits I’m not sure how usual conservation would apply but you know.

Of course Elsa is stressing herself out too. Good thing Anna exists and is precious.

"Whatcha readin'?"

Elsa looked up at the words and the accompanying tap of Anna's bare foot against her own. She was sitting in a pile of pillows on the floor of the library with an assortment of books next to her along with some scattered notes she was taking. A window behind her provided ample sunlight to read from and as she looked up at Anna, it made the red in her hair shine brilliantly.

Both of the sisters had taken to the library as soon as they woke up, not even brushing their hair initially. Being a spirit didn't keep Elsa from still getting small areas of knotted hair when she slept with it down and as usual Anna was another horror story entirely. After a good hour and a half of perusing the shelves, she finally complained it was getting to her and a break was had to get ready for the day.

After enjoying a good breakfast with everyone, Elsa returned to the library while Anna walked with Kristoff. Olaf had joined her and was across from her on a desk enjoying a book himself. As his reading lessons increased, his desire to read books about fantasy lands grew.

Anna's hair was braided in pigtails while she watched Elsa. She wore a light brown dress with sunflowers and other leaf print on it. "Come on, you didn't even hear me approach."

"Oh," Elsa laughed, putting the book down in her lap. She wore a white dress with icy blue leaves decorating it and many, many sparkles. "Sorry. I'm reading about bears."

"...Bears?" Anna tilted her head.

"Ya, she's been writing things about bears and elk all morning," Olaf commented without looking away from his book. "I think she's obsessed!"

"Mm, a little," Elsa nodded, growing more amused by Anna's adorable and confused face. "It's not just bears and elk, though," she said, tapping the surface of the book.

"Well trees too," added Olaf again.

"Yes, trees. I am learning about the forest and the animals so I can figure out what to do next," Elsa explained, knowing she was being a little vague. Her reward was a further confused face from her sister.

"What to do next? What do you mean? I thought you were done with us getting in danger and now you're reading about bears?" Anna started to cross her arms.

Elsa sat up a little straighter and arranged the pillows behind her. She moved the books on her right and shifted the blanket that was there onto her knees. "Come down here."

"Okay!" Anna wasted no time in dropping down to the pillow nest and sitting next to her sister. Her butt was on the pillows and knees pulled up to her chest as she leaned against Elsa. "...So what's going on?"

"Well...the forest. It's been fragmented by the mist cutting it off and preventing anyone from coming in and out. I haven't narrowed down all the exacts yet since the spirits aren't very good at a straight answer...ever...but the reindeer and some other animals couldn't get through." Elsa looked at Anna to see if she was with her so far. Anna's eyes were wide with interest. "The reindeer seem okay enough, but the herd is small. They also ate some of the plants other animals were eating so..."

"Some died," Anna finished. "And some stuff hasn't grown back right and..circle of life, right? Animals don't have enough of what they eat and haven't been able to leave nor have some come in..." Anna smiled. "I learned the basics too, Elsa. I think you forgot how much free time I used to have to read everything in the castle."

Of course she hadn't. Elsa may not have had as much free time, but whenever she wasn't learning to queen, she learned for fun as well. But given that they rarely chatted about that, she didn't always realize there were many areas where they were on the same page so to speak. In fact, she often thought Anna was a step ahead.

"Okay. True." Elsa leaned her head against Anna's. "There's a lot of animals they haven't seen in years. Kids up there haven't seen lynxes and foxes. There aren't a lot of birds. There's way too many rodents. Some of the trees have a sickness."

"So you're going to bring them to places with foxes and lynxes...?" Anna asked.

"If only there was a place with all those animals so people could just see them!" Olaf piped up.

"There are, Olaf," Elsa replied to him and got a loud gasp in response. "No Anna, I want to restore the animals there. I want them to come back. None of the kids have ever seen a bear. The stories they hear about them are frightening."

"Surely the elders remember bears!" Anna balked.

"Yes, they do. I'm sure they knew they were not monsters, but fear does a lot. Being cut off it...it intensifies those fears and twists facts you know were not scary to be scary. They began to think of these beings as monsters that couldn't be understood and could easily bring harm..." Elsa's eyes sort of glazed over and she got lost in her thoughts. She remembered being isolated. If anyone had known of her powers but not known she was the exact opposite of evil, she could only imagine how that would have been passed around. An ice monster who could hurt. Warmth from Anna's energy immediately surrounded her and began to sooth her in little waves. Anna moved her body closer and brushed her nose on Elsa's cheek. "You're not a monster-bear, Elsa."

"Huh...oh." When Elsa felt especially strongly in regards to a thought, somehow Anna was given an insight to what it was. When she'd asked her if she read her mind, Anna had shaken her head and just said it felt like a warm whisper in her ear when that happened. Elsa sort of knew what she meant. "I know, I know."

"I'm glad there's no monster-bears," Olaf added, rolling over on the desk and placing the side of his head on one book while he read another. "Although they sound like good guard pets," he also added.

"Probably," Elsa nodded, not really sure what she just agreed with. She was coming out of her moment and Anna was petting her arm. "I know, Anna, I know. Sorry. I don't know why that made me drift." It was pretty strange for her to suddenly feel dismayed like that.

Anna kept petting her. "I get what you meant. But no more thinking about monsters. Animals, remember?"

"I do, I do. Well...I don't know about taking them from their homes to show them bears-"

"You'd return them!" Anna said with a sharp gasp.

"What!? Of course!" Elsa laughed and looked at her. "No, I mean...I want to bring bears back."

"And the lynxes, and the birds and the flowers?"

"All of it."

Anna bit her lip, then smiled again. "This isn't like breaking a curse and restoring Arendelle. This is nature, Elsa. How are you going to repair nature? Bruni probably won't be able to herd elk with fire and no bear likes to be lifted up with the wind."

"Nokk does like polar bears...a lot. It's sort of strange," Elsa noted. She had been treated to polar bears several times in her explorations around Ahtohallan, and Nokk would accidentally cause unsettling waves in excitement.

"I don't think Nokk will sit down and have a chat with them though." Anna held up her finger before Elsa could mutter out 'maybe'. "No comments! But anyway, do you have a plan?"

Elsa shrugged and sighed. "Not really. Yelena says they are well aware and didn't need me to tell them the crisis..." She cringed at that. Elsa didn't mean to assume or anything, but her approach to Yelena hadn't been well thought out. It had been pretty awkward on her part as Elsa was still nervous in her endeavour to find balance. "The Northuldra have already had discussions on sending out groups to explore other forests and perhaps even expand themselves to areas more flourishing. I've tried to help by finding what I can learn from the memories swirling about Ahtohallan. But that knowledge is already passed down and written among the Northuldra..." She groaned, her head starting to pound. "There's so much to merge, Anna. I have to figure out how to use the spirits to call back and care for all the life that used to be there. Everyone adapted to the change in weird ways. There's some theories and facts in these books that I need to know..."

"Woah, woah." Anna stopped her and leaned up to kiss Elsa's forehead. "You're putting an awful lot on your shoulders. I've told you before, you don't have to be everything for everyone and take on all of their weight. Fixing the forest to what it was before the mist, before the dam! It's going to take a long time and a lot of effort. You can't sing these things into place overnight."

"No..."

"There so many trees! And birds and bugs and stuff!" Olaf added. "Ow, it hurts! Should I think this hard about their natural order and the changes brought on them by a lack of natural predators or resources and a small population of humans deplet-"

"THANK YOU, Olaf..." Anna glanced at him for a moment before back to Elsa. "I think you need a break."

"But-" Elsa started to protest.

"I told you it won't be a quick fix. And you'll need to meet with Yelena again and you can go from there. But right now?" Anna combed her fingers through Elsa's hair and scooched away before stretching out her legs in front of her. She placed a small pillow on her thighs. "Lap pillow time!"

Elsa hesitated, and then laughed. Anna knew how to make her feel better and her head was full. She did feel burdened and that was probably why she had felt so sad moments prior. "Alright, alright." She set her own book aside finally, her place carefully marked. She gathered the notes into neat pile and put them under the book. Then she moved down on the pillows and laid down, her legs stretched out away from Anna, her upper back and head in her lap on the pillow.

Anna began to stroke her face with one hand, the other taking Elsa's hand and laying both on her stomach. "Calm, calm, happy happyyy," she said as though trying to mesmerize Elsa, but the amusement in her face showed and Elsa loved it.

If someone asked her what her biggest reason was for trying to fix the world, she would say Anna. When she could bring all the birds back to the forest, when squirrels would hop from branch to branch in a lively fashion and flowers bloomed again, she would bring Anna to see it all.

"I'm happier already," Elsa told her, her soul humming at each gentle caress of Anna's fingers.

"Good...but we're not stopping yet. I want to keep you like this," Anna beamed down at her.

"I'm not objecting," Elsa told her, eyes falling shut in the soothing haze Anna provided.

Anna giggled lightly. "Olaf?"

"Yes?" Elsa heard Olaf answer.

"Read us a nice long story."

#Frozen 2 #fanfic #elsa #anna #olaf #nerd elsa

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neon-caskets · 5 years ago

Text

No more, no less

Three X Reader from 6 Underground.

~~Three wants a relationship with the reader, but to her, the relationship is just friends with benefits. The reader is the Vegas decoy, and this brings Three’s feelings to the surface~~

TW// Blood, death, swearing (it’s a Ryan Reynolds movie, this was to be expected lmao), Four being a smooth-talker, unprotected sex, oral sex (both parties receiving), my mediocre writing lmao

Requested by anonymous: “Can you please write a Three x Reader for Six underground where he's jealous and wants a real relationship but readers just wants friends/co worker with benefits. Thank you so much! Love your blog!”

I love this idea! Hope this was something like what you wanted

(Y/n = Your Name, h/c = hair color, e/c = eye color, s/c = skin color, you get the idea lol)

“One, I swear to God, if even one of those gross old men put so much as a finger on me because of this getup...” You muttered as you stepped out of the private jet’s bathroom in your outfit. Red lingerie with intricate lace and stockings. “Well?” You pushed h/c hair behind her ears, e/c eyes avoiding the group out of awkwardness.

The other ghosts gave you a quick glance over, Three’s eyes hovering longer than they should have. None of the others knew about your secret evening meetups, what Three and Eight did in the dead of night when the two of you were alone. They, You, if you wanted to remain on the team, needed to keep it this way. He eventually pulled his eyes away from the lingerie that hugged every curve of your s/c skin.

“Do I look like a lady hired to please the four generals?” You rephrased, raising your brows.

“Definitely,” Five nodded quickly. “You really look the part...” She trailed off as a whistle interrupted her.

Four whistled at you and everyone rolled their eyes. One shook his head, “You’ve got no subtlety.”

“Because I need subtlety,” The blond-haired British parkour expert retorted. He gave you a blink-and-you-miss-it wink and commented, “You look good. Really good.”

“Keep it in your pants, Four,” Seven remarked, tossing you a red dress that would cling to your skin. “I’ll go set up a sniper nest.” He left quickly after, duffel bag with a sniper rifle inside in his hand.

You slid the dress on over your head and asked Four, “Zip me up?”

As the others busied themselves for the job, Four placed one hand on your hip from behind and the other on the zip of your dress, whispering so softly that only you could hear, “Honestly, Eight, I could, but really I just want to take it off you again.” Four did love to be suggestive.

You didn’t notice the look of sheer jealousy being shot towards you and Four from Three. He was barely able to bite his tongue as he put on his disguise and prosthetics and hid away his handgun.

Four knew to behave and zipped up your dress. He passed you a smile that reminded you just how hot you looked right now in your sexy little number, and then he left to prepare for his part of the job too.

Three watched as you left the jet and headed towards the Las Vegas hotel and racetrack. To say he was jealous was an understatement.

~~A little later~~

You tagged along with the other ladies heading to the hotel room of the Turgistan generals. It was your job to find the one that knew the most about where the brother of the Turgistan dictator was being held, get him away from the others, and keep him busy whilst Two and Three cleared the room and neutralized potential threats.

The generals weren’t exactly eye candy. Three was sweet and, as you’d discovered, definitely hit the spot. These four older men were a little less pleasant. When the leading lady introduced the group as a ‘gift’ to the generals, you tried not to gag.

There were six ladies including you, so you hopped onto the glass table at the side of the lush hotel suite and held the knuckle of your index finger between your lipstick red lips as the other women started showing off their lingerie in a strip show for the generals. You crossed one leg over the other as you observed not the scene of ladies hired to please these men, but the room itself. With a keen ear, you heard one of the generals tell another in a thick Turgistan accent, “What a reward for what you know! Do you think we would be getting this reward if you weren’t so knowledgable on our leader’s brother?”

In their racy lingerie, the ladies split up, two to two men, one to another, and you hopped down from the table and placed yourself in front of the man who you decided probably knew the most. A false smile crawled over your lips, but a joyous one formed on his face. You led him to the enormous bedroom, leaving your red high heels outside the door as a sign for Two and Three when they arrived.

Both you and the general looked back to the door when you heard the other women shriek and someone’s body hit the floor, but you distracted the general by holding his face in one hand and making him look at you, “Sounds like they’re having a good time.”

Fuck this. You internally died as the general started loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Seriously, fuck this.

The door burst open, and Two and Three strode in. You sighed in relief before grabbing the general by the tie, tightening it, and shoving his face down against the bed as Three aimed a gun at him and Two handcuffed the ladies to the furniture in the living room.

“Thank God you got here when you did. There was not a chance in hell I was stripping for this dude,” You told Three, who smiled proudly. Then you gave your attention to the general, “You’re the last living general. Tell us everything you know, or we kill you too.”

“It’s too late,” He began shakily. “The deal is done. Two tons of gas, delivered by tomorrow.”

Then One, disguised as what you guessed was meant to be a biker, walked in. “Where are you keeping Rovach’s brother? Three seconds, be specific. Talk! Three... two...”

“Ni Hai Tower. Hong Kong. Penthouse.”

“... One.”

Three put a bullet through the general’s head and he fell to the floor.

“Why did Two and Three get to be tennis players and I got this?” You asked One, gesturing to your outfit.

One stared at Two then Three, “Tennis players? That’s what those disguises are?” He sighed, shaking his head, walking away.

“Your costume’s stupid too, motorcycle dick!” Three called after him. You sighed heavily, hanging your head back tiredly. You followed Two and Three out to help them handcuff the other women to the furniture and drag the bodies of the generals into a neat pile in the corner.

Two then, graciously, told you that she was able to carry on from here and that your shoes would trail the blood out, so she took over for you. This gave you the opportunity to explore the hotel suite for a while. It was huge. Everything was expensive. In fact, it was its own enormous, fancy floor. You heard Two shout an ‘Au Revoir’ to you and Three, then she left to find One and the others.

Three startled you when he opened the door from a lounge area on the opposite side of the floor to where the generals had been killed. You noticed the thoughtful look in his eyes, like he was lost in his own mind, and you gently took his hand, “You okay?” He sighed before cupping your face with his free hand, pressing his lips to yours. This was how many of your interludes began, he would lead the way and you’d follow, but this time felt like he was leading down a different road. One that wasn’t as clear to see down. one that you couldn’t pinpoint on a map. You pulled back, “What’s going on, Three?”

“I didn’t like the way Cuatro was looking at you. He was practically undressing you with his eyes.” Three kissed your palms and continued, “And then you get sent here to be the decoy for the general? Dressed like this? It’s enough to make any man go mad, mi amor.”

You felt your chest become heavy, as if your heart started pumping liquid lead instead of blood. One recruited you because of your ability to read people, and right now, Three was an open book. You knew this was a possible side effect. You knew it was a risk. But Three was addictive, enticing. You had him once as a late-night hookup and from there you were hooked. The nights became regular meetings, in your trailer back in the Californian desert, or in his. The casual conversations when the others weren’t around slowly became conversations about what your lives were like before faking your deaths, personal things. The friendly touches when you passed, small things like a hand to a shoulder, started to feel like they sparked things in each of you; for you, they meant you were overdue a hookup with Three, but for him, they were his feelings for you blossoming. It was as you’d feared; he wanted this to be more. He wanted a relationship.

“Three... we can’t. I just... I just don’t feel the same,” You told him honestly, deciding that prolonging this would hurt him more, and you cared enough not to do that to him. Three’s eyes glazed as he processed your words. And soft as you’d tried to be, cushioning the blow that you knew would still hurt, you still felt guilt. “Three, I’m sorry.”

He dropped your hand gently, his fingers trailing out of yours slowly, hesitantly. “It’s alright.” But he was forlorn, uncertain. His eyes met yours and he then told you, “I found the biggest bed I’ve ever seen in my life, if you’re interested.”

A small smile crept up on you. “Sounds fun.”

~~Shortly after~~

One of Three’s hands was next to your head, the other against your jaw as you kissed, your back up against the wall. It was heated, passionate, needy. Three's lips locked onto your collarbone, sucking a grouping of hickeys onto your skin, kissing each one that he made. You gave Three a slight push back as you unzipped your dress and it pooled at your feet. You kicked off your heels and Three's eyes raked over her body.

"Fuck," He mumbled into another kiss, "You're gorgeous." He pulled his shirt off and dropped his pants, lifting you by the thighs towards the bed.

Three's lips met yours for another deep kiss as his hands reached behind you to unclip your bra. It was thrown to the floor quickly, and Three's mouth found your breasts, kissing a trail between them, tongue swirling around your nipple as his hand fondled the other. You arched your back as you gradually became more and more turned on. You ran your hands up Three's muscular chest as he toyed with your nipples and left love-bites across your chest.

You reached down, hand finding Three's boxers. His breath hitched in his throat as you palmed him and he got harder. Your other hand dug into his back as he sucked and nibbled the sweet spot on your collar.

Three sat up and hurriedly shuffled out of his shorts, not wanting to wait another second. He hooked his fingers to your panties and looked up at you for confirmation. You nodded and lifted your hips as Three slid your panties off of you, leaving you both totally exposed to each other.

Three sat between your legs, trailing two fingers down your inner thigh, watching the way your brows softened and your bottom lip was clamped between your teeth. You were already so wet for him. He held the apex of your thigh as he brought his head down to lick up your soaked womanhood, eliciting a desirous moan from you beneath him. Three ever so lightly kissed your clit and you gasped in response. Every kiss and lap of his tongue had a raw intensity, yet it numbed your mind. He ran one finger down your slit before pushing two inside, curling up as he continued licking at you, lapping up the wetness.

You writhed under Three as he pumped two fingers into you and continued to send tingles of electricity through your core as a coil of heat started to pool there, waiting to unravel.

And then he pulled out, licking his fingers clean of the shiny wetness that they had sustained. Slowly, he kissed from your navel, all across your stomach and chest, leaving a few more hickeys before molding his lips to yours again. It was like you both were meant for this, lips fitting together so perfectly, bodies moving in sync with each other.

Three teasingly rubbed his hard cock up and down your slick folds, loving the way you mewled and whined out his name, practically begging. Your fingers dug into Three’s back as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in as he slowly pushed himself into you, stretching you open, filling you with warmth.

You scraped one hand up Three's back as a moan flew from your lips. Three trailed one of his hands up your other arm which was by your head and laced his fingers with yours as he thrust into you. Three's eyes flickered up to yours for a split second and a smile blossomed on his face, absorbing each detail on your face, lower lip between your teeth in pleasure. To him, you looked like a goddess. Glowing. He then took your lips against his, kissing you deeply as he started to become sloppy in his thrusts from tiring.

You held her arms around Three's neck, legs wrapped around him, making his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust. You arched your back again as the knot of heat that made a home in your abdomen grew. "I'm gonna come..."

"Come for me," Three said huskily into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth, nibbling lightly. A few thrusts after and the heat in you burst and you came all over Three's cock.

Three was close to his own climax and pulled out quickly, sitting on his knees. You crawled over to him and left a feather-light kiss on the tip of his cock. You pumped him a few times, licked up his full length, and took him in your mouth. You bobbed up and down on him. One of Three’s hands tugged on your hair as you took his full length in your mouth, squeezing his balls, earning a moan from Three.

"I'm close..." Three moaned as you continued bobbing on him, swirling your tongue across the head, licking away leaking pre-cum. When you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, you took him to the back of your throat, nearly gagging from the size, and Three came. You swallowed every drop, and Three fell to the bed beside you.

Three took you in his arms, both of you melting into another kiss. More gentle than the ones you just shared. It was filled with warmth. Three rubbed circles onto your hip with his thumb, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You know," You began with a smile, fingers lightly tracing the curvature of Three's collarbone, "I have a theory."

"Oh yeah?" Three arched a brow, a small smile tugging his lips upward as he softly trailed his fingers up and down the small of your back. "What's that?"

"One only made the no-fucking rule because he's too much of an asshole to get laid."

Warm laughter filled the quiet. You liked the noise. Three nodded, his eyes finding your e/c ones. "Yeah, that is a good theory." One of Three's hands held your face as his expression softened, "What do we do now? We can't let the others know about this, can we?"

You shook your head, "No, no we can't." You sighed and lay your hands on Three's chest, "But maybe... maybe we could do this again? Not as a couple, I don’t think being a couple in this line of work is a good idea. If something happened to one of us and the other was left behind...” You sighed heavily, burying your head further into Three’s chest. “But I think we can keep having these little meetings, can’t we?”

“Of course we can,” Three nodded, humming into your hair. “But can I ask you one thing?”

You murmured a soft yes.

“Can we tell each other our names at least?”

Your reply was an even softer agreement this time as sleep tried to overpower you.

Three smiled, “I’m Javier. Javi.”

And before you drifted into a slumber protected by the strong arms enveloping you, you replied, “I’m Y/n.”

#Three #xreader #threexreader #6 underground #three x reader #six underground #6U #smut #fluff #fanfic #angst #lemon #fan fiction #jealously #jealous #Four is a smooth talker #Vegas baby

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thaumaturgesaint · 5 years ago

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pick a card: what does august hold?

This pick-a-card reading reveals what August holds for you, what lessons you are learning or will need to learn, and what you should be doing in order to fully understand and make the best of these lessons. Close your eyes, take four deep breaths, and let your intuition guide you to one of the four piles. Once you’ve made your choice, continue reading to see what messages the cards have for you!

If you enjoy this reading, consider tipping me through venmo, cashapp, paypal, or ko-fi! If you want a more expansive and personalized reading, please consider buying a reading from me!

Group One: Rose Quartz. Receive with Love and Appreciation, Enclosure, The Moon, Death, Nine of Swords reversed, Knight of Cups. Your number is 34.

August will bring a sense of release, and an end to your pain, your fear, your doubts, your worries. There has been a heavy weight on your shoulders for some time now, keeping you from seeing and realizing what your life offers you, what the Universe has been offering to you, how much beauty and goodness surrounds you.

You’ve been doubting yourself, your abilities, your gifts, and the goodness in your life. You’ve been looking towards the end, wondering when these things will be taken away from you, when they will stop being here for you to partake in and enjoy. You may think you’re being practical; that by acknowledging the impermanence, you’re readying yourself for the inevitable ending. But really you’re wasting the time you do have, the goodness you’ve been given, the abilities inherent within you.

Yes, things must come to an end eventually. But rather than waiting for this end, you should be enjoying what time you do have. You should be enjoying what you’ve been given, being thankful for all your answered wishes. Looking to the future not with dread, waiting for an ending, but with excitement, preparing for a new beginning.

Look around you. Clear your mind for just a minute of all the doubts and worries. Look with open eyes, a clear mind, an open heart. Acknowledge and appreciate the beauty your life holds. The beauty you hold inherently within yourself. Look at al the good things you’ve been able to witness, to receive, to hold, to keep. Cultivate gratitude and consistent acknowledgement of the goodness in your life and in yourself. Appreciate all that you’re given. Stop taking things for granted, stop rushing towards the end, sit in stillness, in the present moment, with gratitude.

Remember that no matter how lost you feel, no matter how dark it may seem, you are always being guided by your truest self as well as your guides, the divine, the Universe. Let go of your fear and cultivate trust; know that you are not lost, you are not alone, you are where you’re meant to be in this moment. The lessons you’re learning are not always pleasant, but they are teaching you something. Open yourself to this knowledge, learn the lesson you’re being given, and move forward with the weightless knowledge that you are protected and guided, always.

Group Two: Yellow Brucite. Be Authentic to who You Are, The Great Everything, The Sun reversed, Queen of Cups reversed, Queen of Staffs (Wands), The Hierophant. Your number is 54.

August will bring a sense of growth, maturity, responsibility, and ending of old cycles. Gone is the boundless energy, the leap without looking mentality, the wonder and awe at what is to come, replaced by a sense of knowledge, of lessons learned, of growing up and moving forward. You are stepping into your own this month, determining just what you want your future to look like, figuring out exactly what it holds for you.

You have a tight reign on your reactions, your emotions, and your communication. You are very much in control of yourself, to the point where you’re right at the edge of restricting. Find balance between self-control and self-expression, don’t stifle one in order to encourage the other. You don’t need to hold yourself back in order to move forward in the world. You don’t need to cut off your emotions in order to be and appear mature. You don’t need to make yourself unhappy in order to find success.

In fact if you want to cultivate success in your life you will need to find happiness in fulfillment in your work. Pouring all your energy into something that gets you ahead in life but drains you of all energy, vitality, happiness, and excitement, simply isn’t worth it. You will not find applause or even a congratulations by pushing yourself further than you can handle. You will not find achievement by doing what you think you have to in order to be successful. You will find the recognition you crave by finding the work that envigorates you, that excites you, that fills you with passion and motivation.

Don’t follow the path laid out for you by someone else. Don’t be so afraid to disappoint other people that you end up disappointed with your own life, your decisions, your career, your life path. Don’t let anyone— including yourself— hold you back or box you in. Recognize that you are limitless. That you have limitless opportunities and choices to pick from. You don’t have to, and you are being encouraged not to settle for the first thing that offers success and recognition to you. Take your time, feel things out, do what is fulfilling to you.

Connect with your emotions, your desires, with the dreams you feel are impossible to achieve. Recognize that they’re not, that the only thing holding you back from achieving them is the limitations you place on yourself, and allow others to place on you. When you imagine your ideal, perfect future, what are you doing? What are you putting your energy into? What career do you have, what kind of lifestyle do you lead, what brings you a sense of fulfillment? Realize that these things aren’t limited to your imagination. Create your own reality. Create your own success. Find what fulfills you and chase it, claim it, make it yours. Let it fill your mind, your senses, your actions, your life.

Be authentic, express yourself. Focus on developing and expanding your connection with yourself. Learn about yourself, find every unexplored nook and cranny of your psyche and delve into it. If you don’t know who you are, what you want, who you want to be, now is the time to figure it out. Don’t rush, don’t go in with any expectations. Open yourself to all outcomes, open yourself to the possibility of being surprised by what you find within yourself. Open yourself to the possibility of being completely different than you, or those around you, thought you would be. You are your own person. Find that person within yourself!

You are being encouraged to reach out and develop an open and honest connection with the Universe. Explore yourself, your soul, your purpose. And while you do so, open yourself to the whispers you hear, to the connections you feel, to the inklings of knowledge that nudge at you. Don’t write anything off, don’t give in to the temptation to say you’re making this up. Dig into what you want to brush off. Figure out where it comes from, what it means. The Universe is guiding you to somewhere new, within yourself and within your life. Don’t be afraid to follow.

Group Three: Red Quartz. Climbing Mountains, Be Willing to Express Love, Ten of Staffs (Wands), King of Swords, King of Cups reversed, Page of Cups reversed. Your number is 2122.

August will bring a sense of challenges, growth, self-control, and mindful expression. There will be a lot of work for you to do before you’re able to reap the rewards you seek. You may feel very far off from your goals, your dreams, your needs, your desires. But in reality you’re very close to achieving them; there’s just a lot blocking your sight.

You will be called to let go of your need for control. You can’t control every situation, you can’t control any person outside of yourself, and you can very rarely completely control outcomes. You can shift situations, take meaningful action in order to get what you want, you can influence other people, and you can work towards specific outcomes. But you can’t control these things completely, and trying to do so will only waste your time.

Loosen your grip, allow your expectations to change as the situation changes. Be open to surprises, look at change not as an obstacle or setback, but as a new adventure. Develop curiosity towards your situation. Close your eyes and let your gut guide your hand. Realize that perfection doesn’t exist, not in people, not in things, not in events. Nothing will go exactly how you want it to, and that’s good. Things happen the way they’re meant to. Changes crop up in order to bring about better results.

The way you deal with these things will decide what the outcome will be. If you drag your feet, complaining that nothing goes your way, that you never get what you want, that you work so hard and get so little in return, those things will become true. You will be creating that as your reality, speaking your outcome into existence.

This isn’t to say you can never vent or complain, that you can’t be disappointed when things change, when they don’t go the way you wanted or expected. You’re allowed to express your feelings, you just need to do so in a healthy and constructive manner.

Instead of “Nothing goes my way” shift that to “The way I was headed was leading me away from what I wanted. This change in where I’m heading brings me closer to what I want.”

Instead of “I never get what I want” shift that to “What I want is not always the same as what I need. I need to be clear about what I need so that the Universe is easily able to bring it to me.”

Instead of “I work so hard and get so little in return” shift that to “I work hard and receive so many rewards for that work. I am grateful for all the Universe provides and gifts to me.”

Shift your focus, shift your mindset, shift your state of being and feeling. Develop excitement, develop curiosity, develop gratitude. Be thankful for what you have, and for all that is coming to you. Your needs and desires will be taken care of once you develop patience and follow through. Don’t let obstacles stop you in your tracks, figure out ways around them, and continue on towards your desired outcome.

Focus less on what you don’t have, and more on what you do. Express love, and gratitude for everything you’ve already received. Take all your determination and hard work, and put it into yourself. Starting a gratitude log, where you write 5 things every day that you’re thankful for, what you appreciate in your life, will do wonders for improving your mindset.

When you are faced with a challenge, look at how you react. Do you rush forward without thinking things through? Do you immediately give up and find something new to put your energy into? Or do you look at this challenge, and take your time figuring out how to deal with it? If you react one of the first two ways, become mindful of those reactions, and start shifting them towards patient continuation. You can’t lash out or give up every time things don’t go your way. Eventually you will need to learn endurance. Start the learning process now.

Group Four: Black Tourmaline. High Priestess reversed, Queen of Pentacles reversed, Ace of Swords, Wheel of Fortune, Forgiveness, Healing Gift. Your number is 4244.

August will bring a sense of grounding, a shift towards the physical, the external and away from the mental, the internal. August will bring you out of your head and into the world around you. If you’ve been focusing on yourself, on your inner world, your intuition, your spiritual connection, this is a sign that you’re doing good work, that you’re learning what you need to know, and that you need to balance this work as well.

Give your mind a break from the heavy lifting, give your physical body a workout, if you’ve been neglecting it. Take care of the real world connections and opportunities you have. Don’t focus entirely on what’s going on inside you, balance your focus with what’s happening around you as well.

The things you’re learning aren’t being presented to you just so that you can know them and do nothing with them. Your newfound knowledge has real world applications that you need to focus on developing and applying. Look at the world around you, not just your personal world, but at everything. What changes do you want to see? How can you go about bringing these changes?

This isn’t a sign to take the weight of the world onto your shoulders. You are not responsible for the massive changes necessary to create a better world. But you are capable of inspiring and creating change, in your everyday life, in the actions you take, in the words you speak and the people you choose to speak to.

You are being reminded to look forward, not backward. Be present in each moment, ground yourself in what’s happening now. You can’t change what came before, but you can change the way it affects you. Allow past hurts to inspire you to do better, to be better, to encourage others to be better as well. Let go of your attachment to the past, and move forward into the future you want to have. Realize that each decision you make now changes the shape of your future. Realize that you are the one creating your future for yourself. You are the one in control.

Work on not only letting go of the past, but healing from it. Holding onto what happened weighs you down, keeps you from moving freely, and keeps you in a state of grief and shame. You need to heal these things within yourself so that you can move forward with intention and purpose. Be kind and gentle with yourself, don’t punish yourself for what you’ve gone through, for the mistakes you made in the past, for the ways you were hurt and neglected. Heal yourself from these things, treat yourself with love and kindness, let yourself be free.

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