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noisynaia · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! I really love your Mando fics. Can I request something where the reader is traveling with Din and Grogu on the crest (could be Grogu's babysitter or something) and Din has a huge crush on her and seeing how much she loves grogu makes him want to confess his feelings. Just some nice Mando fluff, can be sfw or nsfw, whatever you feel like. 💕

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲

Thank you for the request! I had so much fun writing this ♡

word count: 5.7k

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader

note: Explicit (18+). Smut and fluff. Thigh riding, unprotected P in V (with use of contraception), creampie. Love confessions. The helmet comes off. The Razor Crest lives. No use of (y/n). This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

Din’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. He has tried to fight the feelings he has developed for you, convinced himself that his feelings aren’t truly as deep cutting as they feel. Tried to be content with the time you would spend with him and Grogu before you eventually would move on and he’d be left with the memories and the fantasies of how it would have been if you had really been his. The sight of you and Grogu is almost too much for him, and it makes it very hard for him to not just give up everything and tell you how you make him feel. Your features are highlighted by the silvery moon light that is shining down from the night sky.

You are beautiful.

Din had thought so from the moment he first saw you. But now, after you have travelled with him and Grogu for almost a year and he has gotten to know you, really know you, ‘beautiful’ simply doesn’t cut it anymore. The word in basic is feeling too banal, too trivial, to describe the true beauty of your being. You are the most beautiful person Din has ever known and he is confirmed in this by you every day.

The way you smile up at him when you walk side by side in a crowded market when you’re on supply runs, always insisting on finding a treat or a new toy for Grogu. The way you always greet Din so happily when he comes back from a hunt, like you truly are happy to see him again, like you have actually missed him… How you will always make sure he is okay and hasn’t been hurt, and how you will insist on helping patch him up on the occasions he is. The feeling of your soft hands delicately placing a bacta patch on his bare shoulder a few weeks ago is still burnt into his skin… The way you take such good care of his son, you look at Grogu like he is the one who hung every moon and every star in the galaxy. The kindness and beauty of your soul is truly bewitching. Maybe that is why he started calling you mesh’la.

The first time it had just slipped out. It was a couple of months ago. He had come back from a hunt late at night, tired and muddy. For a short moment, Din had felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs by the sight he had found. There you were, so lovely, so beautiful, fast asleep on his bunk with a sleeping Grogu curled up beside you, his little green fist closed around one of your fingers.

Din’s heart had yearned by the sight. The feelings you and Grogu are bringing to him are new territory for Din. He has never wanted anything like this before, or at least never let himself admit that he does. But you and Grogu make it impossible for Din to keep lying to himself. The kid is under his care, under his protection, and from the moment he chose the armour instead of the sabre and came back to Din, his ad'ika. Din and Grogu are a clan. A clan of two. A clan that Din wishes was a clan of three.

He had been quiet when he started to walk off to the cockpit, something he usually was good at, but you had stirred awake anyway, like your sleeping subconscious had felt his presence. You lifted your head from the pillow, sleepily blinked until your eyes had found him.

“You’re back.” You had said, your voice had been a little hoarse from sleep, but still as sweet as usual, a tired smile had painted your face as your eyes had found the dark T of his visor.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He had said, but you had just shaked your head and hugged Grogu close against you. Oh, how Din had wished he could have crawled into the bunk and joined the two of you.

“Are you okay?” You had asked, just like you always do after he comes back from a hunt.

“Yes, I’m okay.” He had reassured you before continuing. “Go back to sleep, mesh’la.”

He has never told you what it means and a part of him feels guilty about that. Maybe you wouldn’t like to be called that by him. You are technically his employee, even though the lines between you feel pretty blurry by now. An undefinable bond has been built between you, Grogu and Din. Maybe it is the small proximity there is forced upon the three of you, due to the size of the Razor Crest. Or maybe it is due to the undeniable connection there has been between you and Grogu from the beginning, but your presence on the Crest feels too domestic, too loving, for you to simply be Grogu’s nanny.

Din has felt feelings this past year that he has not been acquainted with before. Desire, jealousy, a desperate yearning, all fairly foreign to him until you had entered his life. It is an emotional disruption he hasn’t felt since Grogu had come into his life.

When Grogu had come crashing into his life it had been an upheaval beyond anything Din could ever have imagined. He was so used to not having anyone around, let alone a small child that was so dependent on him. It had been confusing and foreign, but Grogu had climbed into his heart and carved out a space there. A space that Din never wants to become empty again.

Din had never been aware of how lonely he actually had been before Grogu. It had been a hard realisation, but he couldn’t deny it any longer, especially when he thought that he had lost him. Forget hunting bounties and fighting ferocious creatures, handing his foundling over to the Jedi was the hardest thing Din has ever had to do. Din had ended up caring more for Grogu than he had ever thought possible, he had removed his helmet for his foundling, the little green child had given din a whole new purpose in life.

And now Din is a changed man. Grogu has changed him, down to the very atoms of his DNA. Din had never thought he would have what he now has. He had been settled with the way his life had been- lonesome and brutal, in order to support his covert and give back to the Mandalorians that had taken him in, or he had at least used to think so…

But seeing you now, there is really no way of running from his feelings any longer. You are gently bouncing Grogu on your hip as you point out a constellation for him, but the youngling seems to be more interested in playing with the hem of your tunic than looking at the stars over your heads. The silver light from the planet’s moons illuminates you and bathes you in the shine.

Din had landed the Crest on the little planet not even twenty minutes ago and even though it was past Grogu’s bedtime you had insisted on letting him have a couple of minutes in the fresh air before putting him down for the night. Din had not objected, the three of you had been in space for almost a week straight so a little moonlit night stroll before bed had sounded tempting.

A light breeze sweeps over you and Grogu lets go of your tunic to instead nuzzle himself close against your chest as he lets out a cute little yawn. You let out a low chuckle before looking up at Din and his heart skips a beat for the second time this night. The stars are reflecting in your eyes and you have a sleepy smile on your lips.

“I think it is time to get our little one here back to his bed.” You chuckle while you hitch Grogu up a little higher on your hip.

‘Our little one…’

Our!

Dear Maker how Din wished that you had meant it in the way he secretly yearns for.

“Yeah, let’s head back to the ship, mesh’la.”

—

Grogu is sleepily blinking his big eyes up at you as he slowly snoozes off in your arms. You let out a content sigh as you plant a kiss on top of his little green head before carefully placing him down into his little hammock. The sound of his small soft snores echoes through the little sleeping chamber. You are never gonna get tired of this. You smile down at the little sleeping figure as you back away, turning the switch for the door to give the youngling peace to sleep.

You look around the hull for Din, but you don’t find him so you climb up the ladder to the cockpit where you find him sitting in the pilot chair. He looks like he is lost deep in his thoughts, looking out through the window at the night dark meadow where he had docked the ship.

“Hey.” You say as you approach him, sitting yourself down in the passenger seat next to him.

“Hi.” He says without looking at you.

A silence falls over the cockpit, not necessarily an uncomfortable one, but it does feel loaded with something you can’t really put your finger on. Din had been silent for the entire walk back to the Crest and you wonder if something is bothering him. Maybe he is just tired. You had told him to take the bunk tonight when you made it back to the ship, but he had refused. You were supposed to be taking turns sleeping in the bunk under Grogu’s hammock, but it has been weeks since Din has slept in it and wasn't like he did it often before that. You feel bad about it, his back must be killing him after all these nights on the hard mat on the floor.

“Din is-” You lean forward in the passenger chair, leaning slightly towards him to try and catch his attention. “Is something wrong?”

He finally looks away from the window and turns his helmet towards you, and despite only being met by the dark visor of his helmet you just know that his eyes under it are locking with yours. The thought of that always sends a little shiver through you. You know that you shouldn't think about it. Maybe it is wrong, an insult to his creed, but you can’t help but fantasise about the man he must be underneath all the beskar. He is handsome, that is for sure. It doesn’t even matter in what way, it is deeper than that. He is a handsome person no matter what he actually looks like under the helmet and armour. You have seen some of him in glimpse. A bare hand as he removes a glove to get a better grip on as he fixes a clasp on a crate, or the time he had gotten hit in the spot between two pieces of armour and you had helped him getting it bandaged. His face is still a mystery to you. It is a little weird not to know what he looks like, especially considering that you have fallen in love with him.

You had not meant to fall in love with the Mandalorian. You had tried to fight it, but it was a fight you had no chance of winning. You know that you are being silly, but you sometimes get the idea that he might feel something for you too. It also doesn’t help that you have ended up loving Grogu as much as you do. You don’t think you could love him more if he had been your own. It is kind of scary, the thought of the day din decides he doesn’t need you anymore. That your feelings for Din never will be reciprocated hurts, but you will be able to get over it with time, but the day you will have to get separated from Grogu… Oh, that day is going to kill you.

“No, mesh’la nothings wrong.” Din shakes his head, he isn’t looking at you anymore, back to looking out at the night. “I was just lost in my own thoughts.”

“Oh, okay...”

You sit in silence for a little while, you don’t know if you should go and let him be alone with his thoughts or if you should break the silence. You are just about to open your mouth to say something, what you don’t even know, but the silence feels too much. Din beats you to it though.

“The kid, he uhm…” His voice is much softer than usual, almost close to a whisper. “He really likes you.”

“Well, I really like him too.” You say, you can’t help the soft smile spreading on your lips.

“I’m glad you do, mesh’la…”

“You know… You keep calling me that, but you have never told me what it means.”

“I guess I haven’t…” His voice is low and a little shaky through the modulator.

You don’t know what it is with him tonight, but something feels different.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your fluttering heart. “Are you gonna tell me?”

He freezes in the chair, sitting more still than usual, if that is even possible. He is almost reminiscent of a statue. The silence builds, and you begin to regret that you asked. The air between you feels charged, but you can’t figure out with what. It feels like whatever his answer is gonna be it is gonna fundamentally change something between you. You are starting to think that he is going to ignore your question when he finally breaks the silence.

“Beautiful.” His voice sounds a little weak, almost like he regrets telling you, but he continues in a more confident tone. “It means beautiful.”

Beautiful… He’s been calling you beautiful all this time? The word always falling so naturally from his lips, soft and earnestly.

The rapid beats of your heart against the restraints of your ribcage thumbs loudly in your ears. You can’t believe what he just said. He is finally looking back at you again, but any signs of what he is feeling are hidden behind the dark reflection of the visor.

“You call me beautiful?”

“Yeah, I do… Trust me, if anything or anyone has ever deserved to be called that, it is you.”

You can not believe that this is really happening, is there really a chance that he might feel the same as you?

“I don’t know what to say.” You say, the hope that has bloomed in your chest is scaring you.

“You don’t have to say anything. I actually would prefer it if you don’t… I’m sorry if I have made you uncomfortable.” He stands up from the chair, turning his back to you.

“Din please don’t go…” You grab his wrist before he can get to the ladder and disappear down the hull. “Din, I need you to tell me how you feel, please… I need to know.”

“Dank farrik.” He curses under his breath and turns around to face you again. “I don’t know how to do this…” He shuffles anxiously from one foot to another.

It is always so surprising to see Din like this, the usual confident and stoic bounty hunter all anxious and nervous, but you have seen it a few times before. He might be a tough and hardy bounty hunter, but put the man in a social setting and he can get nervous. But this is a whole new level.

“Grogu he…” He pauses, the sound of his breath sounds shaky through the modulator of his helmet. “He means the world to me. I love him, he… he is mine. I never thought that I would have that, my life was never set on that path, I didn’t think I was ever meant to be anyone’s buir, but… now I can’t imagine my life without him in it. It was hard for me to accept that I wanted someone around, but I couldn’t deny it any longer.”

His words come out with so much emotion, you have never heard him like this before. You know that he loves his son, he shows that every day, but hearing him say it like this… The rawness, the emotions. Your vision starts to turn blurry as the tears start to build in the corner of your eyes. You want to be a part of that love so bad.

“What I’m trying to say is…” He takes a shaky breath through the modulator, his shoulders are tense under the shoulder plates of his armour and his gloved hands are curled into tight anxious fists. “Now I can’t imagine my life without you in it either.”

“Oh…” Your lips part, you are founding yourself dumbfounded. Is this really happening?

“I want you to be a part of my life, both our lives…” He is actually shaking as he tells you this. “I don’t want to just be a clan of two anymore… I want you mesh’la.”

You suddenly understand. The way you will sometimes worry that he is avoiding you, or how you sometimes feel like your presence is making him uncomfortable. It makes sense now, you rise from the chair and close the distance between the two of you. You search for the eyes under the helmet, even though you can’t see them you want him to know that you are looking at him - the man and not the Mandalorian. You realise how hard this must be for him, he has been hidden away for all of his adult life, physically, but emotionally too. You reach out for him, placing your palms on the sides of his helmet.

“Din…” You start out, it is probably just something you imagine, but it is like you can feel the heat of his skin through the beskar on your hands. “You already got me. I’m already yours.”

“Really?” It is Din’s turn to sound like he doesn’t believe what he is hearing.

“Yes, Din.” You can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks now, and you can’t keep the grin off your face as you nod up at him. “I’m yours, okay. Yours and Grogu’s.”

“And we are yours... Kriff, mesh’la I’m all yours.” He gasps through the modulator. He rests his forehead against yours, the coolness of the beskar is feeling nice against your warm skin. You stand like this for a moment, simply enjoying the intimacy of the closeness, your hands cradling his helmet and his resting on your hips. The silence stretches until Din finally breaks it.

“I want to kiss you so badly.” He confesses.

“I know.” You say, but you know that he can’t and that is okay. You have accepted that things with him are going to be different than it would have been with others, so the shock you’re feeling when a loud hiss is echoing off the durasteel walls is big. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut without even thinking about it. Your hands land over your closed eyes, like an extra protection to make sure you don’t see him.

“What are you doing?!” You shriek as you hear the loud thud of beskar landing on the metal floor. Din has removed his helmet! He didn’t even give you a warning so you could close your eyes before, you had been quick so you haven't really seen him just gotten a quick blurry peek.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.” His voice is so low and soft, it is so close to a whisper, you almost miss it. His fingers brush against your hands to make you remove them from your eyes. His bare hands, you notice, and the skin on skin contact makes a hot shiver run down your spine. “Please.” He adds.

You can’t believe this. First you learn that he has been calling you beautiful for months, then he tells you that he wants you to stay with him and Grogu and now… Now Din is helmetless in front of you and he wants you to see him?

“Are you sure?” You stutter.

“Yes, mesh’la.” This time he speaks with his whole chest, like he has never been more sure about anything in his life. The sound of his voice without the modulator of his helmet hits your ears and you feel like you might cry. It’s deep and rich, reminding you of the sonorous melodies played on a f'nonc horn.

You inhale a shaky breath before removing your hands from your eyes and slowly blinking them open. And there he is. Din Djarin, your Din Djarin, staring back at you. You let out a little gasp as you take in the sight of him. You can’t believe that this is what he has been hiding all this time. You knew you would like the way he looked, because it would be him, but the reality is still exceeding all expectations you had. Din Djarin is gorgeous. The brown hair, that curls up at the ends, matches the colour of the irises of the prettiest most soulful eyes you have ever seen. His strong jaw is covered with a short, slightly patchy, beard that frames his face nicely. A moustache is framing his mouth. A mouth with the most kissable lips you have ever seen.

Another long silence breaks out between you, both of you are shocked by the situation.

“Hi…” He finally says and it is all that you need to break out of your haze.

“Hi.” You smile at him, maybe the brightest smile of your life.

You reach out for him, you need him closer.

“Do I disappoint?” He asks, but he is smiling too now.

“Hell no.” You shake your head with a laugh, the thought of this face disappointing anyone is an absurd idea.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, your hands find his hair, wrapping your fingers in his soft locks. He leans his forehead down to rest against yours again. It had felt good before, but this - his skin against yours, oh that is heaven. The two of you stay like this for a while, enjoying the affinity between you.

“What about that kiss?” You finally say and it is all he needs to hear. His lips crash onto yours. It is like a switch has been turned, the softness from before replaced with an intense hunger. The kiss is heated and needy, like he is desperate to taste you, wanting to map out every corner of your mouth. His hands are on your hips, a tight grip as he pushes you closer against him.

You gasp into his mouth as you feel the solid curve of his bulge press against your pelvis. It is sending a warm shiver through you that settles in your lower stomach. You press yourself into him, slightly grinding your hips against his clothed cock which pulls a low groan out of him. His broad hands squeezes your hips, guiding your rhythm as you rock against him.

“Do you really want this?” You ask him

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Do you?”

“Yes!” You nod wildly. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone as badly as I want you.”

Your confession makes him let out a deep groan from deep within his throat, it makes a new shiver run through you. His fingers find the hem of your pants which he starts to slide down your legs. You take over, kicking the garment of your legs as you push him towards the pilot’s chair.

“Sit.” You command. You don’t know what it is, you are usually not the commanding type, but you are feeling wild tonight, drunk off of Din’s lips.

Something flickers in Din’s eyes at your sudden bossy tone. “Yes, ma’am.” He mutters as he sits back in the seat, his strong thighs spread out and a cocky smile on his lips. Fuck, he is going to be the death of you aren’t he?

You take a second to enjoy the view, before walking over to him, stepping between his thighs. Your hand lands in his hair as you look down at him through hooded eyes.

“Come here, mesh’la.” He whispers as he reach out for you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer. You lift your leg over him, straddling his broad lap.

He groans at the pressure, as you start to rock your clothed cunt against his muscular thigh. You suspect that he can feel the warmth of your dampness through the fabric. Din adjusts his hold on your waist, helping you set a rhythm as he begins to move your hips. He is moving you slowly at first, but the eager sounds you’re letting out is quickly making him pick up the pace. You purr out his name as you feel his thigh flex under you.

“Kriff… Doing so good for me, mesh’la.” Din curses under his breath. “Looking so pretty.”

“Mmm..” You hum out, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you keep grinding against him until you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck, Din, I...” You whine, feeling the fabric of your panties getting gradually more and more damp against him.

“I need you, Din” You remove your head from his neck so you can look deeply into his eyes. His brown eyes are burning you, his hands coming to a still.

“Okay, yeah…” He nods at you, his pupils are blown wide and a flush is covering his cheeks. “Ne-need you too, mesh’la.”

His eyes are still locked with yours as he moves you, making you lift yourself up from him so he can start on removing some of his armour plates. You use the time to get rid of your tunic, leaving you in only your bra and panties. He ends up removing most of his armour, leaving him warm and soft for you.

He pulls you down on him again, connecting your lips once more as his hand dives down to your panties, sliding his fingers under the hem and finding your clit which he begins to stroke with slow, firm circles after coating his digits with your wetness, making you moan into the kiss.

“Fuck, mesh’la, you’re so wet. All soaked, just for me. My sweet, sweet girl.” He whisper against your mouth.

He keeps circling your clit with one hand, setting a faster pace as his other hand finds your breast, squeezing it gently through your bra, making you let out another desperate moan. Your hands find the clasp at your back, fingers fumbling slightly from eagerness as you open the latch before zealously removing the item from your body. Din lets out a pleased groan as your exposed breasts appear. His free hand, that isn’t occupying your clit, eagerly kneads the soft plumpness of one of your tits before taking its nipple between his fingers and gently twisting it.

“Oh, fuck… Fuck, Din, I…” You whine out, feeling your orgasm approach. You don’t think you have ever felt it come this early before, but he has you so riled up.

“I know baby, I know.” He encourages. “You can mesh’la, you can come for me.”

It is all you need to hear, the last string that holds you together gets cut and the warm euphoric waves of pleasure wash over you. His name is falling from your lips over and over again as you ride out your orgasm.

“Did that feel good?” He asks you with a kiss to the top of your head when you’ve finally come back down from your high and now has relaxed into him.

“So good.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He says and you can hear the smile in his voice without even looking at him.

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You say letting your fingers find his cheek and gently stroke his cheekbone. “Want you inside me.” You feel how his cock twitches underneath you from your confession.

“You sure mesh’la?” He asks, placing his hand under your chin to gently holding your head up as he look deeply you in the eyes for your answer.

“Very.”

“Okay.” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips, but it very quickly turns heated.

Your hands reach down between you, finding the buttons of his pants which you quickly begin to unbutton. The angle is slightly awkward, but you manage to get the last button undone without breaking the kiss.

Din taps your thigh to make you step back for a second so he can pull down his pants and free his cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. You had gotten the idea that he was big from what you had felt when you grinded against his bulge, but nothing could prepare you for the view that met you. He is big. His cock is throbbing and thick, laying heavy against his stomach, the tip is already dripping with precum and you feel your mouth water by the sight.

You slide your panties to the side as you readjust yourself, and start to slowly sink down on him. You’re really taking your time, both so you can adjust to the imposing size of him, and so you can enjoy the sounds he’s making for you as you slowly take more and more of him, until you finally are taken the entirety of him.

“You are so perfect…” He sights. “Cyar'ika you have no idea…” He adds before he starts on leaving hot kisses up and down your neck.

‘Cyar'ika.’ Another word you don’t know the meaning of, but you are too far gone in your shared pleasure to stop up and ask him the meaning.

The two of you sit like this for a little while, letting you adjust to him, but you soon can’t take it anymore, you need some movement.

You lift yourself a little from the chair before sinking back down on him, making Din choke on a throaty moan. His hands stay on your hips, as you begin to bounce on him in a slow, but steady rhythm, but he occasionally slips them down to your ass, squeezing the soft plum skin with his broad hands. It makes you go wild. You pick up your pace.

“Dear, Maker…” You gasp “Din, you’re feeling so good.”

“You too, mesh’la. So fucking tight.” Din praises, lifting you up with his strong arms and pulls all the way out of you before slamming back into you, filling you up again. “So warm, so perfect.”

His hips now meet yours with every bounce as he thrust up into you, burying himself so deep inside you it has you bite down hard on your lower lip to not scream loudly and wake up Grogu. The sound of Din’s heavy balls slapping up against your wet cunt, as well as the loud creaks of the chair, is echoing from the walls and it is honestly the hottest thing you have ever heard. Your arms have begun to shake as your grip on the armrest of the chair is getting tighter and tighter. You keep bouncing up and down on him as you feel your second climax getting nearer and nearer.

“Oh, kriff… Mesh’la you’re so tight.” He groans through gritted teeth.

“I… I won’t last much longer.” He warns. His thrust falters a little as he gets closer and closer to his release.

“It’s okay, you can come, baby…” You pant out. “Please come for me, Din”

He let out a throaty groan at your encouragement.

“I have an implant.” You add. “Please, I want to feel you inside of me.”

You pull his face up to you, kissing him hard. Your lips connected passionately as you both get pushed over the edge. His fingers dig into your hips as he comes, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer.

You moan out his name, as your walls clench down around his cock. You feel how his dick twitches inside you as he comes undone. The warmth of his release coats your inside, and you dote on the feeling of being filled by him, milking every drop of his release as he keeps pumping into you, fucking his cum deep into you. You feel like the two of you have melted together as you both ride out your climaxes. Tears of pleasure are wetting your eyes. You have wanted him for so long, never thought that you would have him, never thought that he would feel the same as you.

You find his lips again, kissing him as you both ride out your climaxes. He hums content into your mouth and you can feel the smile on his lips. His hands are leaving your waist and he is instead cupping your cheeks, gently holding your face and the rough and heated atmosphere is soon turning soft.

“Are you okay?” He asks while caressing your cheek with light strokes of his finger pads.

“Yes.” You assure him with a small smile. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. He has the prettiest smile in the galaxy you decide. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, mesh’la.”

You don’t know the meaning of his words, but they fall from his lips with such warmth and care that you it has your heart flutter with warmth in your chest.

“What does that mean?” Your voice is nothing but a whisper.

“I will know you forever.”

“That is beautiful.”

“It’s…” He looks into your eyes, the deep mahogany of his irises make your heart clench. You can’t believe that these are the eyes that has been looking at you from under the helmet all this time. “It’s how we tell people we love them.”

“It is…?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I love you, mesh’la.”

He loves you… Din Djarin loves you.

“I love you too, Din.” You say before connecting your lips again in a long passionate kiss. “You and Grogu.” You add when you eventually have to pull away for air.

He smiles at you as his eyes are filling with grateful tears. You, Din and Grogu – a little clan of three.

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anundyingfidelity · 1 year ago

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PLEASE if you find the time could you do perv!adam warlock x reader i would literally go feral also i love your work you’re amazing<333

oFCOURSE, i'm happy to know you like my fics! 🥹 i also received these other 2 requests about perv!adam so yeah. i am making short headcanons, hope you enjoy it! under the cut for you... 😼

if you'd like me to write a long fic just lmk, and i'll see if i can do it 🤓

pairing: adam warlock x fem!reader.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

warnings! corruption kink, fantasies, rough sex, overstimulation, dumbification, manhandling, slut shaming.

adam now knows a lot about the universe, life and ofc sex.

when he met you, you woke up something inside him.

you were cute, kind and naive but strong and smart and gorgeous. you were the perfect warrior and the perfect addition to the team once rocket asked you to join.

after you were rescued from your long destroyed planet, you absolutely said yes.

and there's where adam saw the chance of his life to approach you.

he got to know you and teach you the things he learned.

and you were so excited and happy adam was there.

but as time went by, he couldn't stop thinking about you.

he couldn't stop thinking about your laugh, your pretty lips, your beautiful face, and your body, all of him just wanted to ravage your perfect, tiny, silly being and make you his and only his.

his dirty thoughts started to become usual little by little.

you'd be preparing some breakfast in the ship in the middle of a mission, wearing your comfy clothes, shorts and a tank top on and adam's mind would go wild, yearning for you. he would restrain himself to grab your arms and force you on your stomach on the counter, rip your shorts and panties and just fuck you right there, while he whispers how much of a dumb slut you are for him.

or when you're having the ice scream or popsicles quill taught you to prepare while he was visiting knowhere before going back to earth. his dick twitches at the way you lick and your tongue rolls around the flavored ice, wishing your mouth could take his cock as good as that.

but of course you're none of what he thinks and fantasies about. you're just too innocent to give into him and to let yourself go for carnal pleasure, right?

until one night, you're up because of the same reason as adam: you cannot sleep.

he talks to you and he feels something different coming from you. you're nervous, more than ever and he senses that.

"you don't have any idea of what you do to me, do you?"

only one question was enough for you to let him in your bed.

you become addicted to his touch and his roughness.

the first night he made you cum at least four times and ohhhh, once you began this, it never stopped.

he loves your hands all over his golden skin, when you caress his hair and pull him for a kiss, but he is always a step ahead, pinning you down to the mattress - or any surface in the room - to fuck you hard and rough, for you to experience the longest orgasms you ever had, all that while he whispers the dirtiest shit in your ear.

"this is what you do to me, you dumb fucking slut," adam continues to pound into you, your walls pulsing and squeezing his cock after another breathtaking orgasm he gave you. "i wish i fucked you earlier."

each time, he leaves you exhausted and aching for more.

nobody knows the new cute, little naive girl is being fucked by the most powerful man in the galaxy.

you're so cockdrunk and such a slut for him, he points it out each time he's fucking you and you certainly love it.

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock imagines #adam warlock x you #adam warlock imagine #adam warlock x y/n #adam warlock #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x female reader #marvel smut #marvel imagines

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supernovafeather · 2 years ago

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omg hi 🤭 the thought of jealous!leto has been plaguing my mind for a while and i’d love to see it in action!! perhaps he notices some soldiers flirting or talking abt reader & he gets all bothered so he makes sure they’re stationed right outside his bedroom so they hear how good only he can make reader feel eheheheheh

for f!reader please :)) wife, concubine, totally up to you!! ur writing heals me i swear, thank you so much lovely 🫶🏻

Thank you for your request and your support, here is your fic! :D

Minors don't interact.

Only His (18+)

Leto Atreides x wife!Reader

Content: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, age gap, jealousy, lingerie, very slight angst, lots of fluff 2000 words

Leto had no idea on how to act on this relationship with you. Love has been mutual and reciprocated on many levels from the innocent looks to the nights all too short for his liking. A slightly playful side of his personality started to show up once your presence got official because of the wedding celebrated in private. Instead of feeling older like such an event would do to anyone, the duke felt relieved and even lighter. No one needed to know that this union got consumed several times before getting recognized, nevertheless many commented on you.

The ruler tended to eavesdrop easily whenever some idiot would mention your name or title. It could come from soldiers patrolling on the hallways of his domain, some ambassador, a maid. You unleashed passions without doing much more than appearing by his side no matter if it was jealousy, desire or curiosity. At first he felt content with this confidential mess feeding everyone's conversations like some log would in a fireplace during winter. Freshly arrived and his people had no major difficulty to accept you as their – and most importantly his – Duchess.

Recently, the duke experienced the first sparks of jealousy, the kind of jealousy ignited flames devouring him from the inside whenever you would accompany him. He could deal with the soldiers' fantasies well, it only asserted your mutual dominant position up those men, but the nasty and needy looks sent to your back from another side of the room from some unknown older men were too much. They felt too much at ease around you and it only took a few polite words with you for them to start thinking that maybe the Duchess of Caladan was a mere hot woman that would spread her legs for whomever had the power to charm her.

However, the duke never lowered his guard around them, mainly because of those bloody insecurities resurfacing when one of those porks revealed themselves to be quite charming and handsome. Younger as well, coming from great families and well-educated. The didn't have that graying hair – some didn't even have a beard but still tried their chance with you – and were playing the innocent souls mesmerized by your own beauty and intelligence. Nonsense. As your husband he could see through those vipers' desguises pretty well. How many wished him to die so they could marry you and impregnate you like a docile bitch they would own?

“I had no idea you could be so... tactile,” you whispered as Leto secured his arm tighlty around your waist.

“I thought we had been tactile many times before.”

Tonight got especially eerie for him. The gala gathered young heirs from every corner of the galaxy and even without their presence now that this ceremony was over, he felt uncomfortable and stressed out. He was too old for that kind of thing. A teenager would have more ressources than him to defend his beloved.

“Not this kind of tactile,” you claimed, “this doesn't sound like you.”

“I reassure you my dear, I am me, myself, and no one dressed up as I,” he chuckled.

Soon enough your couple joined the shared chambers, their familiarity sufficient to remove most of the weight that parasited his shoulders all night long. The sunlights wouldn't be long before showing at the horizon. You would be sleeping comfortably in your warm bed and he would already be elsewhere to work with his subordinates.

“Are you sure you don't want to stay here a little, at least to get some rest before starting your day,” you inquired.

Leto wanted to make love to you right now but didn't have much energy remaining to do as desired. He stared at you taking your dress off to go take a shower, his exhausted eyes wandering on these curves he had caressed, nibbled, licked, soiled so many times. Those ridiculously arrogant heirs would never get their head between your thighs as he sworn to himself in the past.

“Maybe I should.” He admitted as he sat down – or rather let himself fall – onto the bed. “But it's not like I had any choice remaining.

He let a small smile find his lips as you caressed his bearded cheek with your palm, your soft smirk followed by a kiss on his forehead. How could he blame those idiots trying to get you? Maybe he would act the same around you if you got married to someone else.

“I have to go take a shower but I also have something to show you before you join the others.” You explained before kneeling before him in your white underwear. “I just need you to stay awake and in our chambers. It's extremely important.”

“Alright. Extremely important but not enough to preceed a shower?”

“Exactly.”

Confused and not in the mood to try to understand the whole predicament, the duke looked as your buttocks disappeared behind the bathroom door. What a shame. A few years ago he would have caught you up and brought back to to your bed without worrying about the incoming meetings. He still had the duty to conceive an heir with his Duchess, they would have excused him for skipping the two hours of rest he should have enjoyed in your company. If only it wasn't so difficult to get a child... you would have at least four of them running everywhere with all the times you tried. But nature or the Gods decided against it apparently. He hoped he wasn't running out of time.

Leto lied down on his side with his boots solidly planted on the floor, fully clothed and thinking that he should have taken a shower with you. It might have led to some “duty” afterwards that would have felt more rewarding and pleasing than just brooding about his lack of efficiency in some domains.

As he started to doze off softly on the silky blankets too welcoming for his good, he heard the door as you walked out.

“Leto, I told you not to fall asleep,” you half-scolded him.

“You told me to rest the time you come back so I rest my eyes.”

Still surrounded by darkness, he raised an eyebrow as you mounted him, a pair of thighs holding him firmly against the bed.

“Open your eyes Leto.”

“I'm too far gone for that,” he argued with a defeated voice.

This was what he thought before feeling some pressure on his crotch.

“I want my husband to show me what it feels like to be loved,” you pouted.

“I...”

As he opened his eyes his consciousness finally slapped him in the face and the view of your bright red lingerie motivated him enough to rise on his elbows.

“Oh, that kind of important matter? Of course I will study this with attention. Maybe twice just to make sure I got it right.”

“Never change my love.”

“Since when have you been thinking about this?” he taunted you with a grin.

“I saw you getting grumpier around all those peacocks complimenting me. It was pretty hot to see you silencing them with only a glare. And as I'll be missing you all day long again... I want my duke to show me how much he loves me, and me to show him how much I love him.”

“Oh. Was it that visible?”

Your turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I see,” he mumbled.

“Do you want to make them hear how much you love me?”

“Did I turn you on so much just by being in a bad mood?”

That kind of demand from you was... unusual. He could call it whorish, but as he really liked this he took the decision to call it sensual. Having his beloved wife mounting him in the lingerie pieces he preferred just to brighten his mood up and to potentially carry his heir and make him assert his union with you even more...

“Not by being in a bad mood. Rather by actively making yourself respected. Now, don't move. I have to reward you in some way.”

Leto watched as he remained laid on his bed, a smug grim appearing as you slowly disappeared between his legs. Once the back of his head back onto the blanket he sighed, satisfied by the outcome in sight.

“Don't fall asleep,” you warned him.

“I won't.”

He must have given the right answer as he felt your warm mouth wrapping a precise spot on his pants, your tongue darting out to pressure his crotch a little as your skilled hands sloxly took off his belt.

“Should I make you scream louder than usual?” he asked as your lips started some slight massage.

Your chuckle barely interrupting your ministrations offered him the response he was looking for, and it was not long before he helped you to take his pants off, his black boxer and the bulge hidden by it now at your mercy.

“I had no idea you loved seeing me like that,” he breathed out, “I thought I was being childish.”

“As long as you remain professional and moderated, I find it incredibly hot.”

“Stop encouraging me down this path, I shouldn't listen to you.” He said before hissing at the warmth of your mouth engulfing his shaft almost entirely. “But don't stop that, you're too talented.”

With all the loving debauchery in display in your chambers since before your wedding he should replace talented by experienced, but now was nt the moment to try to make his brain work out any better. He couldn't as he stared at the ceiling above his head. Then some bubble popped in some corner of his mind as he grabbed your hair and sat up brutally, his energy almost fully back as you glared up at him in pure surprise, your mouth ready to resume its ministrations.

“Come here you.”

You laughed as he almost threw you on the bed, your hands busy with his salt and pepper locks as he peppered kisses all over your throat, your bra soon abandonned somewhere.

“Leto what are you doing,” you giggled.

“Take your panties off, get on your hands and knees and I'll make that clearer for you.”

“Shall I be loud sire?” you cooed.

“Any other dumb question?”

You giggled again approvingly before obeying. Yet, something was off and Leto thought about it for a few seconds before making you turn around for you to face the door. Only then he positionned himself behind you, staring down at your entrance as he rubbed it with his shaft.

“I want them to get turned on and frustrated because they can't have anything of my wife. Get it?”

“Get it,” you said excitedly.

A few seconds in and Leto was already smiling like this was the best day of his life as he thrusted in and out of you. He knew perfectly well that your pleasure wasn't high enough to be the reason of your delightful screams, but feeling you so willing to play along with him sent an adrenaline shot that motivated him to no end.

“Good girl, that's it”

“Oh please more, more more,” your moaned loudly.

The duke almost came as he noticed something moving under the door, but knew better than that. A shadow, maybe two behind. Little perverts.

“They're listening,” he whispered as his hips clapped yours harder.

You laughed again and winked at him behind your shoulder, and after a quick spank on your right asscheek you resumed your show. Sometimes Leto wondered what he had done to deserve you, especially as he felt your begging getting more sincere. No one could know but him.

“I'm close, I'm close already,” you breathed out.

That was what made him go even harder on you. Confusion mixed with genuine pleasure, that was the winning combination for him. If he was the one spying on your words, he would be hard in no time. His guards would certainly touch themselves for days thinking of you but it was worth it. They knew their place and would never dare to do anything to get closer to you. No whore or Lady would equal the fantasies they would have created in their heads. They were not him, and you were not theirs.

He grabbed your hips firmly as you came undone louder than anytime before, your hands desperate for a support as your fingers tried to dig into the covers to keep some balance.

“I'm not done with you,” he mumbled with clenched teeth as he stared at a third shadow joining the other ones.

Having you wrapped so tightly around him was one thing, but knowig he was the only one capable of making you feel that way was even better. You would carry his child or his children one day, he was sure of it. What was the most important right now was that you already worn his colors, his House's. You were his wife that loved it when he decided to make love to you. The wife that loved him dearly no matter what could happen.

Leto repressed a loud moan by pure masculine ego as he emptied himself in you, only allowing himself to breathe out suddenly as he looked down at the trembling mess you were now under his watchBoth fully satisfied with your mischief, you took a shower together briefly, and merely dressed in his new clean outfit Leto left the room like nothing happened with confident steps as three soldiers saluted him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! :D Reblogs are the only thing that counts for the tumblr algorithm so don't hesitate if you want to support fic writers and artists on this platform !

@queen-of-elves @laura-naruto-fan1998 @thepowerthismanhasoverme @justmasblack

#leto atreides #leto atreides x you #leto atreides x reader #oscar isaac #dune fic

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myrskytuuli · 4 months ago

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Paradise Lost!Adam🤝Children of Eden!Adam

Hating the fuck out of Hazbin Hotel!Adam if they ever somehow met him.

ooh boy! I don’t know anything about Children of Eden, but I am a nerd about Paradise Lost so let answer this ask a little bit too thoroughly.

Honestly, I could see Hazbin Hotel!Adam being exactly like Paradise Lost!Adam in the beginning. Whether he would hate what he later became, is a different question altogether.

But if I were ever to write a Hazbin fic taking place during the Eden era, I would choose to characterise Adam as he is in Milton’s epic. It fits.

Okay, let me make my case.

In Paradise Lost, Adam embodies all the virtues of an enlightenment era gentleman, as a matter of fact, he is written to be the platonic ideal of the enlightened man. He is rational, interested in science, reason, and turns away from temptations of desire and emotionality. He loves Eve in a paternalistic way which borderlines on loathing at times, and feels uncomfrotable whenever Eve manages to awaken any "baser" feelings in him. The only fault he finds in himself- and is at the time angry about- is his temptation to admire Eve’s sexual beauty- And if you’re ever been on the internet, you will know that every misogynistic reddit-incel fantasises about being this man. The whole enlightened philosopher king is exactly the insufferable archetype that weird, friendless, red-pilled guys latch onto, with no self-awareness for the fact that they fall apart shitting and crying every time there is a lesbian in a tv show. Anyway, this enlightened philosopher king is an archetype that is based on a real, popular ideal from 17th and 18th century, and Paradise Lost certainly employs it.

Adam first awakens in God’s light (he is enlightened from the moment of his creation) and proceeds to wonder at his surroundings with a scientific wonder. When he meets anyone from heaven, whether it be God or later Raphael his instinct is to ask questions, and more importantly, he understands all celestial mysteries without a problem. When Raphael reveals the shape of the galaxy to him, he immediately infers the laws of gravitational forces moving the planets from it. He’s a very special genius boy, as all the angels around him keep telling him!

He is also very aware of the fact that Eve is not her equal, and at the same time threat to his enlightened rationality. Eve, who awakens in shade rather than daylight (she was not created enlightened), Eve whose first action as alive is to stop in front of water to admire her own reflection for so long that God himself has to guide her away, or she would stay there forever “pinned with vain desire”, Eve who is “so lovely fair, [-] Yet innocence, and virgin modesty, Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth”, is everything Adam wanted when asking for a mate, but at the same time…not. Once God sends Raphael down into the garden to teach the new humans all the knowledge of the world, (so they would not be tempted to eat from the tree of knowledge)

At thy request, and that thou mayest beware By what is past, to thee I have revealed What might have else to human race been hid

(which an interesting aside, in PL humans already have free will when choosing to eat the fruit AND God has taken active steps to lead them away from temptation. Without the misogyny, I would be VERY into this interpretation of the story. Where the forbidden fruit is a literal red button which reads do not push or paradise will explode and the test is if humanity can resist the irrational temptation to push anyway)

Adam gets to eagerly attend the full lesson, while Eve excuses herself midway through because:

such pleasure she reserved, Adam relating, she sole auditress; Her husband the relater she preferred Before the Angel, and of him to ask Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute With conjugal caresses:

Eve 1. wants the pleasure of being explained things by Adam (a real mansplainers fantasy lmao) and it is hinted that 2. her sensual nature would prefer such lessons to happen while she is also being physically caressed. Unlike Adam, who gains pleasure through his rational mind, Eve only gains pleasure through sensations and submission to her husband. Of course, it becomes kind of inadvertently funny because the next thing to happen after Eve leaves, is that the BOYS immediately start to talk shit about her, behind her back. Maybe the vibes of that gathering were just rancid, and Eve was picking up on it.

For well I understand in the prime end Of Nature her the inferiour, in the mind And inward faculties [-] All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded;

-Adam confidently states the second Eve walks off his sight, to which Raphael responds

Dismiss not her, when most thou needest her nigh, By attributing overmuch to things Less excellent, as thou thyself perceivest. [-]

self-esteem, grounded on just and right Well managed; of that skill the more thou knowest, The more she will acknowledge thee her head, And to realities yield all her shows:

Which pretty much sums up with: yeah, I know she sucks, but that’s why she has you to manage her. Having had a wife for a day, Adam is already complaining about what a dum-dum his wife is, and he is getting: yeah women, can’t live with them, can’t live without them, am I right LOL, type of bro-bro affirmations from the angel Raphael himself. Guy is getting a speedrun in how to make MUH WIFE type of jokes from day one as part of the celestial plan.

And in the end Adam’s misogyny is validated, because the only fault he has, is that he put too much faith into his wife’s ability to use faculties of rational reasoning.

But know that in the soul Are many lesser faculties, that serve Reason as chief; among these Fancy next Her office holds [-]

Which gives me hope That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, Waking thou never will consent to do.

When Eve tells him off the dreams Lucifer sends her, Adam trusts that Eve will be able to overcome feminine fancy in favour of masculine reason. His trust in his wife is his sin. When Eve suggests to “divide our labours; thou, where choice Leads thee, or where most needs [-] ; while I, In yonder spring of roses intermixed With myrtle, find what to redress till noon”. Eve wants some space from Adam, while Adam immediately is against the idea. “Doubt possesses me, lest harm Befall thee severed from me; for thou knowest What hath been warned us”. Eve follows her immediate desires (for some alone time AND to prove to Adam that she can be left alone) while Adam is capable of rationalizing why that would be a bad idea according to the warnings they have received from the angels. Lucifer is lurking somewhere out there!! Eve, who makes promises she can’t keep insists that “that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt To God or thee, because we have a foe” finally wears Adam down until he exclaims: “Go in thy native innocence, rely On what thou hast of virtue; summon all!”

Eve does not summon it all, because when Lucifer finds her alone, he immediately appeals to Eve’s vanity:

who should be seen A Goddess among Gods, adored and served By Angels numberless, thy daily train

So glozed the Tempter, and his poem tuned: Into the heart of Eve his words made way,

It has already been established that it is not a desire for knowledge which tempts Eve, because in literature supporting enlightenment ideals, seeking knowledge would never be villainised. It is instead stated that the evils of the world come from the lack of rational thought, and that women naturally lack the capability for rational thought, so this is what happens when their rational husbands let them out of their sight. Eve, incapable of pure reason, hears Lucifer’s words and thinks them reasonable.

and in her ears the sound Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregned With reason, to her seeming, and with truth:

When Eve bites the apple, she is also immediately overtaken by this ecstatic, good feeling, like she is drunk. She thinks that this is the most awesome thing that has ever happened.

Her first independent idea is that she should plant an entire garden full of trees of knowledge and make sure that every living creature gets to eat one. (That’s right! The knowledge inside the forbidden fruit was communism all along!)

She goes back to Adam, afraid that if Adam also doesn’t partake of the fruit, God will simply make him a new wife “And Adam, wedded to another Eve, Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct; A death to think! Confirmed then I resolve, Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe:” Eve wants to share the fruit for selfish desires. Adam accepts as an unselfish sacrifice. He knows exactly what it means to eat of the fruit “Adam, soon as he heard The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, Astonied stood and blank, while horrour chill Ran through his veins” but he still chooses to stay by Eve’s side. She is his wife, and she needs someone by her side. Adam is “Against his better knowledge; not deceived, But fondly overcome with female charm.”

Then they fuck, and unlike the first time when their “love-making was untainted by lust” this time they FUCK. Like nasty.

Sure, at first glance the fact that Adam chooses to embrace damnation to stay with his wife comes across as a real sweet wife-guy move. Expect that in the actual text it comes across as very paternalistic and guilt-trippy move. Sure, Adam does stay with his wife, but BY GOD does he milk that out later. Unlike in other interpretations, in Paradise Lost, Adam, technically speaking, never sinned, as such. He did not partake of the forbidden fruit because of desire or selfish curiosity. He’s going to prison for a crime everybody knows he didn’t really commit. He does it out of sacrifice and love, which kind of makes the heavenly forces treat him as not-really-a-sinner. The final judgement for Adam is not that he ate the forbidden fruit, but that “thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife”.

When Arch-angel Michael shows up to kick them out of the garden, he first takes Adam up to a mountain to show him more visions of heavenly knowledge/plan, while knocking Eve unconscious. One of them is not treated like the other.

Adam’s bout of goodwill and sacrifice does not last long, because almost immediately after making the choice, Adam starts yelling at Eve: “Would thou hadst hearkened to my words, and staid With me” and Eve yells back how “Being as I am, why didst not thou, the head, Command me absolutely not to go”. Adam blames Eve for tryingt o be independent and Eve blames Adam for allowing her.

Adam then threatens to commit suicide, while wailing about women. Just in general.

O! why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest Heaven With Spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With Men, as Angels, without feminine;

(Also, considering that Raphael told us earlier that angels do have spiritual, ephemeral sex with each other in heaven, heavenly gay sex confirmed!! (This was actually something that really bothered C. S Lewis who spent considerate time trying to explain away the "homosexual promiscuity" in Paradise Lost))

Which finally prompts Eve to start soothing him. “with tears that ceased not flowing And tresses all disordered, at his feet Fell humble; and, embracing them, besought His peace”. Adam, finally seeing his wife “at his feet submissive in distress;” relents and stops threatening suicide. Instead, he once again finds that paternalistic grace, promising that if only he could, he would TOTALLY ask God to put all the blame on him and only punish him. “That on my head all might be visited; Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven” of course that’s impossible, so whether he would actually do that can never be tested. Adam and Eve promise to not fight and blame each other anymore and Eve is joyful that she is “Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain Thy love”.

This leaves the couple in a situation where Adam rightfully can forever dangle the fact that he chose to be damned with her, that he had no fault, he never succumbed to temptation, that he exchanged his rightful place in paradise to help her survive the woe and wastelands outside of Eden, over her head. imagine trying to have an argument after that? Of course she should cater to his every whim and will!! Of course she should be forever grateful! What do you mean I need to do the dishes more, I literally gave up paradise for you!!!

though all by me is lost, Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed, By me the Promised Seed shall all restore. So spake our mother Eve; and Adam heard Well pleased, but answered not

(Not wife-guy behaviour, my man)

looping back to Hazbin Hotel, yeah, give this guy 10 000 years and I could absolutely see him growing into HH!Adam. The fact that he’s treated as the most special bean in Paradise and never gets knocked down a peg, expect for that one time he accidentally treated his wife like a person. PL!Adam is at that M’Lady stage of insufferable dudbroism where he fully believes that he is a gentleman willing to sacrifice his comfort to take care of his little wife. But we’ve all seen examples of that kind of personality very quickly morphing into those fucking femoids all deserve whatever’s coming to them types of personalities. It’s a pipeline we all know exists, and personally, I just think that PL!Adam and HH!Adam would fit into the two ends of that pipeline perfectly.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #ask answered #ask answered with way more paradise lost quotes than anyone wants

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phanfictioncatalogue · 7 months ago

Text

Fics Named After Colors (4) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three

A Blue Starfall - wavydanrises

Summary: Phil is a botanist who enjoys going on hikes through the woods, when someday he walks into someone quite… particular. He didn’t believe in coincidences, so maybe it really was fate that guided his steps.

a rose by any other name (would smell as sweet) (ao3) - truerequitedlove

Summary: Dan and Phil are finally able to foster a child, and a shy teenager shows up at their door with long messy hair and an averted gaze.

A Rose of Winter (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: All Daniel wanted to do was escape the stifling life as a Stark of Winterfell and travel the world. Between the looming threat North of The Wall and the den of lions in the capital, he unexpectedly finds love in the midst of a war set to tear Westeros apart. Caught between loyalty to his family and duty, he is torn in a thousand directions that all point to one man: Philip Flowers.

Black And White (And Screaming Color) (ao3) - mysticstargirl

Summary: (tw) The one where Dan is a teenager admitted to the hospital after his lung cancer hits a particularly nasty bump, and he hates it- but a beaming, beautiful, bright-eyed nurse named Phil Lester makes everything a bit better. Dan is shades and layers of grey-black-white, but Phil is screaming color. The world is printer ink on cheap paper, Dan is thick, messy acrylic paint on rough paper, and Phil is pastel, watercolor stains on hot pressed canvas. Everything fades with time, even masterpieces.

Black Nails and Thick Thighs (ao3) - phandomsub

Summary: When Dan grows his nails out to paint them, it sparks a chain-reaction of fantasies in Phil’s head.

Colours (ao3) - htmllost

Summary: Dan liked thinking of people as colours. One shot.

Covered In The Colors - danthequeenofmemes

Summary: (tw) Phil is a boy who sees people as colors, but Dan is the brightest of them all.

Explaining the Rainbow - crescendohowell

Summary: Dan is colourblind so Phil explains all the colours to him.

Galaxies and Greenhouses (ao3) - fourthingsandawizard

Summary: When Dan meets a boy with piercings and a dragon tattoo while shopping in Diagon Alley, he’s pretty quick to jump to conclusions, much to his own embarrassment. But as they become fast friends, they both come to see that sometimes the most important lessons learned at Hogwarts are the ones that happen without a wand.

Grayscale (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Danielle is 15 when she looks at the mirror and says out loud, “I am a boy. I am gay. My name is… Dan,” she picks, moving her hands outwards in front of her chest.

For a moment, she feels comfortable and happy.

Green Sofa (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: This might be Phil’s favorite place in this house to fuck, he thinks. The beds are nice, and they’ve certainly tested the integrity of the office chairs a time or two, but this green couch in the nerd cave, it really is his favorite.

grey (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: dan wakes up in the hole again. phil tries to take care of him, but sometimes not even phil is enough.

Grey Areas And Expectations (ao3) - celestialfics (orphan_account), danthrusts

Summary: When Mr. Howell and Mr. Lester both start their first years of teaching in America at the same time, the students notice their mutual British accents and immediately get to work snooping, observing, and theorizing. The curiosity of the students added to the constant “threat” of fellow teacher Ms. Christensen equals nothing short of a chaotic school year full of memes, plants, and maybe a little bit of needed privacy in the teachers’ lounge closet.

It’s the Blue of Your Eyes & the Way You’re Scared, Love - glitteraccent

Summary: Soulmate (Color)! & Blind!Phil au

Matte Black (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: Dan paints his nails in Dublin - tries to anyway.

Orange (ao3) - MEOW_I_am_a_cat

Summary:Sequel to Grey. Love isn’t always perfect. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s messy, sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it’s… orange.

Silver Polish (ao3) - phandomghostwriter

Summary: Phil goes to Tesco to pick up some needed items and clear his mind and he finds an impulse item that brings up some emotional feelings. Or the fic in which I imagined Phil having silver nail polish on for 2 seconds and was like yeah that should be a thing.

Silver Shadows - talkingibberish

Summary: There’s a castle on a mountain; an urban myth for some, and a home to others. For Dan Howell and Phil Lester, it’s their home. At eleven years old, they left their unaccepting families and went to Silver Shadows Academy; a school for LGBT teenagers. They hit it off from day one, and as they discover their identities, they fall more and more in love.

The Colour Bandit and The Outsider - indiestripper

Summary: Everything Dan touches turns grey and he feels ashamed of his power. Then one day a man moves into the neighboring flat who turns everything a rainbow of colors including Dan’s life.

Writing About Blue Eyes - crescendohowell

Summary: Phil moved to a small town in order to help run the family restaurant. He only planed to be there for a year but he doesn’t account for Dan, the writer who loves the town and surrounding forest he calls home. While Phil doesn’t want to hurt Dan when he moves away, he can’t help falling in love with soft smiles, endless conversations, and the boy who always carries a journal.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #colors #colors masterlist #fictitles #fictitles masterlist

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tranquilpetrichor · 2 years ago

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confronting eternity

synopsis: an immortal god and a traveler sit down for a meal and a chat.

wc: 817

pairing: immortal god!yongseung (verivery) x immortal!reader

genre: historical fantasy, slight angst, comfort if you squint

warnings: existential af (but this is one of my fics, you knew that), do not take this to be 100% historically accurate, loosely based off of genshin

you gaze at the feast in front of you in awe, with plates full of food neatly arranged on your table. of course, yongseung could afford the best, even in mortal form.

from the rooftop restaurant you were currently in, you had a beautiful view of the light-filled city, bustling with activity as sunset approached.

"my, what a pleasure it is to be invited by a god for dinner. thank you, again.”

he chuckles. "believe me, the pleasure is all mine. i know you saved my nation from calamity, so it’s the least i could do. i’m glad we could finally sit down for a proper meal.”

"yongseung, there's no need to thank me, it was the right thing to do," you say with a smile, beginning to fill your plate with various foods. “it's just nice to talk like this. i know we’re always so busy, especially you. ”

he sighs, and stares briefly at the vast expanse of hills, especially vibrant during the spring.

"sometimes i wish i weren't. thousands of years of work can be quite taxing on the soul."

the waiter stops by your table with two cups of hot tea and a kettle, and you briefly stop conversation to bow politely. you take a sip, relishing its taste. even after all this time traveling, your love for any sort of tea remains constant.

"oh, you old man! when you have the chance, you should travel the world with me—there's quite a lot to see."

yongseung raises an eyebrow. "you're quite old too, remember? but maybe i will take you up on your offer one day, if i feel comfortable to leave my nation in the hands of the people."

"sightseeing would do you some good. i feel 5,000 years young after running around all sorts of worlds! only the heavens know how long it's been since i've visited another..."

you stop yourself before you go on another one of your excited (and nostalgic) rambles. yongseung's still listening to you intently, though.

he carefully takes a sip of his own tea. "and here i thought you were just an ordinary human traveler when we first met, although i was quickly proven wrong. there is nothing ordinary about what you've been able to accomplish with your powers."

you smile amusedly while trying not to take all the jjajangmyeon noodles. he's busied himself with eating the meat, namely the pork belly.

"eh, everyone thinks so unless i tell them otherwise. you still treated me well regardless. or how should i put this, normally. i'm thankful for that. and in many ways, i'm no better than a mortal until i complete my goal on this planet."

it's a little sad, really. you miss your sibling. you've never lost sight of why you started your journey across the various nations of this world in the first place.

the god stares at you, his face containing traces of melancholy. "how selfish of me to say, but i find eternity to be a little less unbearable when you're here."

ah, what a sap. you love him, though. he's not so tough when you're around.

"then, i'm glad my time on this world has not been a waste."

at the start of your journey, you had told yourself that you wouldn't make many attachments to those you met, as it would make it harder to leave.

first and foremost, you wanted your sibling by your side so that you could traverse the galaxy together again. you just happened to help people along the way—nothing too deep.

but things were a little different with yongseung. despite being one of the gods that helped oversee korea and its people, he was someone you could now call a dear friend. the thought of saying "goodbye" to him, even if it only had to be temporarily, wasn't a fun one.

you've gotten used to encountering him every so often, studying some book or on a walk to clear his mind from all of his duties.

he smiles peacefully, and you're glad to see the expression. "i'll always remind you that your time is well spent with me."

at that, you pause to take in the rustling of the wind, the beautiful colors of sunset, the design on your napkin, and the reflective glint of yongseung's cubical necklace charm.

to think, that you might never have this exact view again. it's quite a bittersweet feeling, thinking that the day would come where you would leave earth. yongseung's well aware of this too, but logically, there was no point in thinking about it so much.

it'll be a long while before that day comes, as there are still so many questions for you to answer about this world.

so, until you have to move on again, you'll both cherish the memories you've made together. and maybe, just for a while, this can be eternity for you.

—

a/n: oh dear lord this is way overdue for @restlessmaknae's coexistence collab. i underestimated how tired this year would make me. i'm not that dissatisfied with the fic, but i wish my brain could come up with better sentences sometimes. i was thinking about how some people stay in one place their whole lives and how others move around so often, and how they would each perceive the other type of person. it's so different, isn't it? just food for thought. and also, my fantasy brainrot is too much.

as always, please reblog and like to support your content creators!

#kflixnet #kwritersworldnet #coexistencecollab #verivery x reader #vrvr #verivery imagines #verivery drabbles #verivery #tranquilpetrichorfic

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multistanisms · 3 months ago

Text

Opportune Moment || Teen Wolf

FANDOM: Teen Wolf

PAIRING: Stiles Stilinski x Peter Hale

WORD COUNT: 5,817

RATING: PG-13

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: N/A

SUMMARY: Scott joining the alpha pack, Lydia and Danny dating the twins and the body count of Beacon Hills rising from a darach has Stiles unable to enjoy the Winter Dance. Getting air leads to a brief conversation with the one person Stiles doesn’t want to talk to right now - Peter Hale.

TAGLIST: @no1likemybbgcharlie, @spookidema

♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦♢♦

The music had been fine, the punch still as blandly boring as the previous two years. But when Lydia got up to dance with freaking Aiden, Stiles had officially given up on enjoying the dance. There was no possible low lower than watching her dance with someone who had tried to kill his friend (although he doubted Cora considered him a friend) and had helped in killing another. He’d grabbed a cup of the punch and found his way outside. With a sigh, he hopped up, moving to sit on the railing outside of the back of the gym. Tonight had been a total failure in terms of romance. Again. Or well, that was the cover he was still trying to force himself to play. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another getting in his way. He stared at his cup of punch for a while, then shook his head. “Maybe I should give up,” he wondered, taking a long drink of the beverage.

“Giving up isn’t much like you, Stiles.” The voice made Stiles flail and almost caused the teen to fall backwards off the railing. What didn’t almost happen was the remainder of his punch splashing over his outfit. Turning his eyes towards the source, he laid eyes on the one person he wasn’t sure he wanted to see at the moment. Dark jeans hugged the male’s body perfectly, as well as a long sleeved grey shirt, which was a surprisingly normal piece of the wolf’s style, clad the form of the oldest wolf in town; Peter Hale. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Stiles jumped down, looking at the now ruined clothes, shaking the punch off his hands as best he could before wiping them on the pants of his suit.

“Seriously?” he grumbled. He looked back at Peter and gave an irritated look. “Are you happy now? My suit is ruined.”

The wolf raised his hands, giving a soft shrug. “My apologies. I didn’t expect you to throw punch all over yourself if I said hello.” He gave a chuckle as he moved to get closer to the little platform. Despite being a wolf, the movement made Peter look more like a cat. The image of a glowing eyed kitten hissing made Stiles laugh to himself before he realized what Peter had said and frowned a little.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say hello, Peter. You spewed a bunch of crap and scared the living hell out of me.” Stiles snapped a little, letting his eyes return to his punch soaked clothes. He looked up a moment later, to see the wolf’s brow arched. “What?”

“I was honestly expecting you to at least try to enjoy yourself this year.” Peter said calmly, raising his eyebrows together and kind of swaying his head.

Somehow, Stiles found the will to roll his eyes and exaggerate the movement with a slight movement of his head; a clear knock off of what he had dubbed the ‘signature Hale eye-roll’. “Yeah, because that’s so easy to do when your best friend is siding with killers, your dad is missing and your friends are dying.”

“Is part of it perhaps also Lydia?” Peter inquired, eyes glancing at the cracked door, where a slow song was playing from the dance.

“No, no, NO. Don’t you dare say her exquisitely beautiful name, alright? You have no right, and I mean no right whatsoever, to have her name even blink across your mind. Not after what you did to her.” He crossed his arms defiantly. Yes, he might have started moving on, but he would also always see Lydia as beautiful, and he would defend her; no matter the cost.

The oldest Hale’s head cocked to one side as he arched his brow again. “Stiles, technically I did nothing. I just tapped into her abilities.”

“Abilities she wasn’t even aware she had until you used her to bring your wolf ass back to life.” Stiles said, making a point by cocking his own head and shooting the wolf a look that was clearly daring the were to argue.

“It was a move of strategy, Stiles.” Peter said. “And it worked out pretty well, seeing as my coming back saved Jackson. And yourself. Or have you forgotten that?”

“Yeah, well, even if you did save everyone’s collective asses by helping with Jackson, your strategy sucked, okay?” Stiles said, clearly annoyed that Peter was sticking around. His head shook as he thought about it. “You made people think she was crazy.” He leaned back on the rail and huffed a little. “Basically ruined her life.”

“I wasn’t aware that being Queen Bee made or broke a person’s life. Especially someone as brilliant as Lydia. And if we’re being honest, Stiles, anyone who thought Lydia was crazy were the actual crazy ones.” Peter said. He didn’t seem to notice Stiles faltering as he defended the redhead, giving a shrug. “But, I didn’t come for Lydia. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Well, as okay as it can be given our current, blood thirsty visitors…” he amended, giving a look as if he was scolding himself for a second. “But clearly everything is not okay if you’re out here moping.”

Stiles gaped at the older wolf for a moment and scoffed, looking away. “I can go in whenever I’m ready.” He then glanced back at Peter. “Shouldn’t you be like, trying to form a plan of action with Derek? I didn’t think he’d let you out of his sight due to a third of you dying in a coma-like state.” When he got an arched brow as a reply, he paused. Shit, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say. Cora had been a godsend for Derek and Peter both, and now they were losing her slowly. He looked down. “I mean, with Isaac here, and Scott, what’s the point of you hanging around?”

“Isaac came tonight because Derek explained it would make him feel better if Isaac didn’t miss it because of him.” Peter said, shrugging a little. “Although I doubt Isaac is having much fun himself at this point.”

“Wait, why would Isaac have missed the dance because of Derek?” Stiles asked, giving a confused look as he tilted his head.

“He didn’t want Isaac to miss something like this because Derek couldn’t attend as his date.” Peter answered simply. “Believe me, dragging the kid out for a tux was no easy task.” His eyes were once more at the door, as if he was waiting on a reply from the formerly abused beta, and when they returned to Stiles, the human was giving him a droll stare, as if he was speaking a known fact. “Something wrong, Stiles?”

“That just confirmed my suspicions…” Stiles rolled his eyes. He supposed it could happen – falling in love with someone who was loyal to a fault. His mind kind of trailed off from there though, becoming distracted by helplessly erotic images of the alpha and Isaac. He was so lost in his head that he jumped and flailed when Peter reached to touch his shoulder. Of course, the force of his jump and the flailing put him off balance, and he flinched as he waited for the ground to smack him, but instead he felt himself grabbed about the waist. Opening his eyes, he blinked upon realizing Peter had actually caught him. ‘Okay, seriously, it’s getting increasingly harder to hate this guy!’ He thought as he stared up at the wolf for a moment. “Uhm, thank y-” his voice was cut off as the older male leaned in to kiss him. A soft, gentle connection; not forceful or demanding, just…tender. Perhaps even a little needy and uncertain. That kind of connection between their lips made the teen’s heart pick up in rhythm a bit. He liked it, and as much as he would deny he had even entertained the thought, it wasn’t like what he’d thought it would be. Dep down, he knew he wanted more. So much so that he tilted his head, trying to deepen the kiss. Of course, it was at this moment that he realized he was kissing Peter freaking Hale. Flailing again, he shoved at the wolf, almost frantic to get away before he asked Peter to take him home. “Let me go, now.”

“Stiles-”

“Let me GO!” Stiles snapped, to which the wolf sighed, rolled his eyes and promptly released the human without a word. Stiles fell back, ass meeting concrete and a soft hiss leaving him at the pain. “What the hell, Peter?”

“You said to let you go.” Peter said innocently, although the hint of the smartass Peter that Stiles had come to know was evident in the tone. Stiles wasn’t sure if it pissed him off or it made him want to smile. So he forced his face still and replied as he stood up and dusted at his clothes.

“No, I mean what the hell was that? Before you dropped me.”

“I believe it’s called a kiss, Stiles.” Peter replied, once more back to his usual sarcastic self and shrugging a shoulder up. “Unless that terminology has been eradicated by your generation at some point.”

“Okay, let me lay this out here for you, wolf man. I don’t want you. At all.” Stiles said, clearly angry. But was the anger at himself or Peter? He couldn’t tell. He really didn’t care at the moment. The anger would cover the lie with ease.

“Then why did you kiss back?” Peter asked, head tilting. Stiles could see the slightest curve of a smirk on Peter’s lip. Damnit, why did he have to do that?

“You caught me off guard.” Stiles replied firmly, raising his eyebrows together and rolling his head in the tiniest way, almost like a twitch of annoyance.

“Or you actually wanted to kiss back and now you don’t want to admit it.” The wolf said with a slight tilt of his head in the same direction. The smirk was becoming a bit more prominent in the wolf now.

Stiles gave an aggravated sound, his hands clenching in front of him as if he might try to strangle the wolf. “Okay, you know what? Rule number one of me not killing you with wolfsbane. You will not, under any circumstance, scenario or matter of life or death, kiss me with those talented but murderous and lying lips. Understand?” His voice raised a little in volume and pitch, arms flailing as he spoke, as if he needed to gesture to make his point more valid.

Peter actually seemed offended at the little speech. His head even straightened to its proper position. “So says the human that returned the kiss. Although, if I’m being honest, that murderous and lying bit hurt…”

“I’m gonna show you hurt if you ever even think about kissing me again.” Stiles said seriously. He didn’t need this. He couldn’t get involved with Peter. But as with all irony in life, he had to move on from his affection for Lydia by falling for Peter Hale. He’d been pushing it out of his mind for almost a year. Why did he have to be reminded with such a trivial thing as a kiss? Damn, his luck was shitty these days. Right now though, he wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. He didn't need that intrusive thought to win. For one thing, it wasn’t attractive. Another reason was that he kind of liked his hair long.

“I get the feeling you’d return another kiss if I could manage to steal it.” Peter said with an all out smirk. He shook his head as he chuckled, reaching to help the human up. He saw the reluctance in the teen and rolled his eyes in the perfected version of Stiles’ previous attempt at the roll of eyes the Hale family had. “Oh come on, Stiles, I’m not that predictable. Although it would probably make you feel better if I was.”

Stiles kept quiet at the comment, because Peter was right; it would make him feel better if he could easily predict Peter's moves. Instead, he let his eyes move between Peter’s face and the extended hand, and reluctantly took the wolf’s hand, only to be yanked onto his feet and have the wolf lean in again. He tensed on pretext before deciding it would be best if he just turned away when the wolf whispered into his ear.

“If I kiss you again, Stiles, it won't be until you ask for it.” Peter’s voice was so soft, so undeniably sexy, that a shiver ran through Stiles. There was most definitely a need of some kind behind those words. And Stiles certainly didn’t understand what the hell it was. Before he could reply, Peter pulled away, reaching up to fix the tie and continuing. “Go back to the dance, Stiles. Ignore the twins as best you can. Try to enjoy yourself at least a little tonight?” Stepping back when the tie was straightened, he gave the human a soft smile and nodded his head at the gym door. “Go on.”

Stiles openly gaped at the wolf for a moment. Then his body began moving backwards, as if responding to the suggestion without Stiles’ conscious agreement to do so. His head tilted to one side, although whether mocking Peter or just curious, the human couldn’t tell. He jumped as he bumped into something and turned, flailing, to see a trash can knocked against the brick wall of the school. He silently asked who put a trash can so close to a rail, although in any other moment it would have seemed a stupid question. Stopping to glare at the receptacle for a moment, he made sure to right it properly before turning back to look at Peter again. Although he’d deny it if asked, he felt a sudden sadness in his chest to find that the platform was empty of the wolf. Giving a sigh and lightly shaking his head, he sidestepped the can and moved for the door to the gym. As he laid a hand on the frame of the metal door, he paused and looked back, hoping that he would catch another glimpse of the wolf. But still, there was nothing. Not even a trace that Peter had been there with him just moments before. He’d just turned around to finish entering the school when he jumped, startled by Scott standing in front of him, yanking at his sleeve and tugging him over to the side of the door. By the grin on his best friend’s face, it was something good. Thank god. With everything going on, they needed good news of some kind. “What is it, man?”

“Allison!” Scott said, his grin beyond excited as he watched his friend. “I overheard her telling Lydia she still loves me!” The pure excitement was damn near palpable, and it made Stiles feel a range of emotions in one moment. The human sufficed to roll his eyes at his best friend.

“So go talk to her, man.” He said. “I’ll be fine.” He waved his hand dismissively when Scott seemed to hesitate, brown eyes watching Stiles doubtfully. Stiles sighed and shook his head. “Look, seriously, Scott. Something has to go right for us here. And I am not going to let you sit it out with me when you could be getting the girl of your dreams back. Now go.” When the wolf still seemed unsure, Stiles gave a sigh. “Scott, if you don’t go talk to Allison, I’m going to lace your drink with wolfsbane and shoved mistletoe down your throat.” His look and voice were serious, and finally Scott nodded and left to go find the huntress. Going to the long table of snacks, Stiles scooped up a fresh cup of punch, then found his way around the gym until he was at an empty table in the back corner. Sipping at his cup before setting it on the table, he sat in the very corner chair. From this new position, the human could see all of his peers. For roughly five or six songs, maybe even seven, Stiles sat quietly, watching and trying to pay attention to his surroundings. Yet all he could do was get lost to his thoughts. As much as he tried to ignore it…he couldn’t. Or rather, his brain wouldn’t let him. The entirety of his focus kept getting sidetracked to one thing; or the aspects of one thing, bringing with it the conflicting mix of emotions that was spawned by the memory his brain wouldn’t let him ignore.

Peter’s kiss.

Surprised by it or not, it was a default action in Stiles to try and cover it up in his mind. To hide how much he’d liked that contact. But his mind had other plans tonight, and just kept dragging him back to that moment. Like a scratched DVD that only played to a certain point and then replayed one scene over and over. Everything about the kiss was embedded in his brain, and he couldn’t not think about it. The warmth of Peter’s lips, how gentle the wolf had been in kissing him, the way his heart had sped up and his body had ached to draw Peter closer and never let go. Most of all, the emotion that the kiss had drawn out of him. Taking a deep breath, he let it out as a sigh, his honey eyes falling to stare at the glass of punch. Raising one hand, he traced his middle finger around on the rim as he thought about it. He’d been denying it when it made itself known for nearly three years, since he’d been offered the bite. The affections for Peter that seemed to do anything except go away had been ignited when Peter first saw right through him in the midst of his originally playing cool for his best friend's sake. He had, at one time, thought he’d liked Derek, but then the alpha had started turning everyone and Isaac was soon almost constantly with the older wolf. And it wasn’t until he’d seen Peter helping kill – cure, Stiles reminded himself - Jackson that he even realized who his feelings were for. He’d built up sturdy walls on purpose; anything to keep from acknowledging his growing emotions for Peter. However, now it seemed as though the base of those walls was faltering in the design…and they were weakening faster than Stiles could repair it. As if the kiss had blown a hole in his defenses and it was only a matter of time before they finally crumbled into dust. All that was left now was a aching lingering in his body, his mind, of what he wanted. More. Another kiss, to soak in the warmth of the safe feeling he had when he was with Peter. Being honest with himself for the first time with the situation, he just flat out wanted Peter. The closest he could assimilate it to was how much Scott wanted, would always want, Allison.

With that comparison, Stiles raised his eyes to look around the gym floor. It took him a moment to observe the amount of happiness on the dance floor. Allison was holding Scott, her head on his shoulder as they whispered to each other. Aiden was twirling Lydia gently, the banshee’s eyes closed as she smiled. And Danny was tucked against Ethan as the two shared their own moment, laughing quietly together. Stiles actually shook his head. ‘This is ridiculous.’ He thought and moved to stand. Whether he meant himself or watching the happiness around him, he didn’t know or care anymore. Taking the last bit of punch from the cup in a single drink, he set the now empty cup on the table of confetti and glitter. Hand reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys, twirling them on his finger and catching them each time they fell towards his palm. Moving to the parking lot and heading for his jeep, he was prepared to go home; the only sound as he walked was the jingling of his keys as he twirled them. Finally looking up as he neared his car, he froze in place, his eyes widening a little as he stared at where his jeep was sitting parked. He wasn’t staring at the vehicle so much as the figure leaning against the back of it in such a calm manner. Waiting casually, as if he belonged there. Even yards from the man, Stiles could feel his body react, his skin warming as if an electric charge had filled the air and made his blood move faster. Everything Stiles wanted was standing right there, as if he had known he would be leaving. That thought alone had the teen’s heart changing into a much more erratic beat, and he stood in place, frozen by indecision. But then Peter turned his head as if sensing he was being watched, and blue hues found Stiles’ gaze with ease. In that moment, the indecision broke and Stiles couldn’t help himself. Starting forward at a brisk pace, he made his way to where Peter was and upon stopping in front of the man, reached up to pull the wolf into another kiss. A delighted little hum escaped him as he was kissed back, his arms moving naturally to wrap at the man’s neck as he tilted his head and was granted permission to deepen the contact. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away until his lungs burned with the need for oxygen, and as he gulped it in, he looked at Peter with a serious and hungry expression. “Take me home with you, Peter. I want you to.” When the former alpha only arched a brow at him, Stiles motioned his head in a ‘you have got to be kidding me’ manner. He then raised his hand with the keys, dangling them a few inches from the wolf’s face. “Don’t make me say it again.” The tone in his voice made it clear there were no negotiations, no debating. He wanted this, and Peter had damn well better give it to him. For a moment, Peter watched him, and then the brow fell from its arch and Peter took the keys. With a light smile and a nod, Stiles moved to the passenger side, opening the door and sliding in.

Seeing Peter slip into the driver’s seat made Stiles smile a little more. When the wolf paused and looked at him, he tilted his head as the other spoke. “Stiles are you-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure, I swear to God, Peter, I will poison you with wolfsbane, mountain ash and mistletoe.” The teen cut him off, turning to stare at Peter with raised brows. He was daring Peter to argue, but the wolf only laughed softly and started the jeep. Relaxing into his seat, he tugged his phone from his pocket and hit the volume button until it was set on vibrate. It was a kind of personal insurance that he’d be left alone for a while. Right now, hell for the next few hours or even the rest of the damn night, he needed to be away from the others. To have who he wanted for a change instead of trying to hide it. To forget about anything and everything going on. To just be a young man in love. That thought made him smile to himself. He was in love with Peter, even though there was a small part of him, the part that hated the idea of because it didn't fully trust the wolf, that kept asking, begging if he was sure. Turning his honey gaze towards the wolf as Peter drove, he gave a minute kind of nod. Yes, he was sure. He loved Peter, more than anything. And he didn’t fully understand why or how, but he knew he always would, that he would always need Peter. That if he gave himself to Peter, trusted him, the wolf would never let him go and would protect him instead of asking to be protected. That thought made a real smile curve his lips for the first time in a long while.

The drive to the apartment downtown was quiet. Only the sound of the jeep kept the utter silence at bay. Stiles wasn’t sure what to say for a while. So when Peter let his hand fall, the teen glanced at the wolf before reaching with hesitance to take the slightly bigger hand in his own. He looked away as Peter squeezed his hand gently and looked over to give a soft smile. It wasn’t the usual kind of smile he’d come to know from the wolf. This one was soft, gentle, and it made the older wolf look more relaxed and calm. He had needed the contact, to feel truly connected, and it was clear that Peter had no problem giving him that. All the simple gestures, paired with the words the former alpha had said outside the school, their kiss and the fact that Peter had been waiting for him…Stiles suddenly realized Peter had been hinting at a confession without saying it. It was a vague way to do so, and frustratingly so, yet Stiles knew that it was also so very like something Peter would have done casually. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, leading the way but never giving the answer outright. Pulling into the complex, Stiles took a moment to look around. He was about to turn and look back at Peter when a familiar car caught his attention just a few spaces down from the jeep’s place. “You have the Camaro? How did you get Derek to give it to you?”

Peter looked over at it, shrugging nonchalantly. “Better than giving it to a total stranger that no one knows how well they’ll treat the car.” He mused. “I forget I have it from time to time.” His blue eyes finally tore from the car to look at Stiles. Tilting his head in a way that kind of read ‘not a big deal’, he opened the door and climbed out, going to the passenger side to open Stiles’ door.

“Like tonight?” Stiles asked as his door opened and he arched a brow at the wolf. The devilish smile on Peter's lips sent a shiver through him.

“No, tonight I left it here on purpose.” The older man said, holding up the jeep’s keys in front of the teen. “Something told me I wouldn’t need it.”

Stiles blinked as he looked up at Peter, unable to keep from smiling as he took the keys into his hand. “I'm glad you listened to that instinct.”

“So am I.” Peter replied, reaching to run his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “ Are you staying the night or should I be ready to take you home?”

“I don't want to go home tonight.” Stiles surprised himself as he spoke, free hand moving to guide Peter's hand to his waist. “I want to stay with you, Peter.” He was fully aware of the way Peter stroked his fingers along the suit jacket. “Take me inside?”

“Happily,” Peter responded, the hand at Stiles’ side moving to lace their fingers together and walk with the teen up to the building. Stiles stays as close as possible as they moved, and Peter is grateful for the proximity of the younger man. “Thank you,” he voices quietly as he leads them into the elevator.

The words catch Stiles’ attention, making him tilt his head. “Hm? What for?”

“For being yourself.” Peter responds, lifting their entwined hands to kiss the back of Stiles’ hand. “For being, well…human.”

“Being human isn't so great,” Stiles countered,his tone sad as he leans into Peter's side.

“Please don't say that,” Peter begged softly. “You are so important, Stiles. Don't ever doubt that.”

“Everyone always has to save me. I can't do anything like you or Derek or even Allison.”

“You're the reason everyone has survived, though. Your plans almost always work. You always think of something or find something we need.” Peter's voice is quiet as he speaks, reluctant to move when the elevator opens but leading the way to his apartment door. “Whether the others show it or not, I will do everything in my power to make you are yourself the way I do. To make you understand how important you are to me if nothing else.” He's aware of Stiles’ attention on him, his inner wolf content to have that much at least, and steps aside to let Stiles’ inside.

As soon as the door closed, Stiles felt safer than he had in over two years. It seemed into his body like a hot shower when you're cold, and he finds himself sighing in relief. He takes the time to look around, eyes slamming in the difference of Peter's living space versus the loft where Derek and the rest of the pack resided. “It's so calm here.” He let his fingers brush over the mantle of the fireplace, pausing to take in the slightly charred images in new frames. “Is this…?” His voice died, unable to form the words.

“Some of the few photos I could save.” Peter finished with a nod. “My nieces and nephews, my sister and brothers. I have the remaining ones in the hall. My parents, a family one from Christmas the year before the fire…” He points at each of them, his own voice twinging on ache as his lips barely curve up; not quite a smile from the weight of his memories. “This is what's left of them.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Sometimes. I didn't have the best family environment, but they were family, and you only get one, you know?” He can see the curiosity behind Stiles' eyes, is very aware of the effort the young man takes to not ask. “That part of my past is for another time, Stiles. Tonight isn't about that.” He doesn't move when Stiles steps closer, allowing himself to be pulled into an emotional kiss, his hands finding purchase at Stiles’ hips.

“You aren't alone anymore, Peter. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere, I promise.” Stiles murmured, honey eyes locking on Peter's blue ones. “I love you, and I'm sorry it took so long to realize it.”

“You don't have to apologize, Stiles.”

“Maybe not, but I still want to make it up to you.”

“Oh? What exactly is going on in that clever mind if yours, hmm?”

“Kiss me again and find out.” Stiles remarked with a smirk, fingers tugging at Peter's shirt, laughing out a moan when the older man obliges with ease. The rest of the night is little more than a blur, but Stiles is aware of the way he's practically worshipped over and over. He eventually falls asleep, curled securely against Peter with his head on the wolf's chest.

The room is still dark when Stiles stirs, but there's just enough light behind the curtains to reveal that the sun was rising. Stretching, he relaxes and looks up at Peter, taking in how peaceful the man looks. His lips curl up into a smile, lifting his hand to rest it on Peter's cheek, thumb brushing over the stubbled skin. “My wolf,” he hums quietly, startling when Petered eyes open. “Good morning, handsome.”

“Only yours.” Peter promised, adjusting to steal a kiss. “And good morning. I didn't think you'd still be here.”

“Peter, why would I leave?” Stiles blinked in confusion. “Haven't we been building to this since we met?” He grins at Peter's responding arched brow, laughing quietly. “I know all about the mate thing with wolves; had to learn it when it came to Scott and Allison.” He answered, shrugging his free shoulder. “I just didn't think it could happen-”

“Don't doubt yourself, Stiles.” Peter pleads when he interrupts. “Please don't. You are so loyal, smart and fierce. You never give up, even when it looks terrible. You are the real backbone of the McCall pack, and you would be the perfect wolf.”

“Wolf or not, I'm not sure how Scott will handle this. He may not want me in the pack.”

“Then he's a fool and doesn't deserve you.” Peter countered, pressing his lips to Stiles’ forehead. “Without you, I would not be here, same and calm. That darkness held me for so long, I'd given up trying to fight it. And then you came along.” His hand rests at Stiles’ side, fingers brushing over the soft skin there. “You are priceless to me, Stiles. Nothing is more important than you.” He lets Stiles tuck his head into his neck, eyes closing as he took in his mate's scent.

“Thank you,” Stiles whispers, k owing Peter will hear the emotion regardless.

“What for?” Peter teases, fingers still mindlessly tracing over Stiles’ skin.

“For seeing me.” Stiles answers, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. “When everything started, it was so much, and I've always been on the sidelines of it all.”

“You fail to realize the significance of your role in Scott's survival, then. He would never have made it this far without you.”

“I should have said yes when you were alpha.”

“No.” The word is firm when Peter speaks it, pulling away just enough to lock his eyes on Stiles’. “I'm glad you said no, even if you were lying when you said it. Had I turned you, in that state, stuck in my own despair and darkness? I could have hurt you, and that I would never forgive myself for. I would rather die than hurt my reason for living.”

“No death talk,” Stiles scolded, tapping his index finger at Peter's lips. “You, Peter Hale, are not allowed to die. You are absolutely not allowed to leave me alone.” A pout distorted his face when Peter laughed quietly. “Don't laugh at me, I'm serious.”

“I'm not laughing at you, Stiles.” Peter countered, resting his forehead against Stiles’. “You're just so much like a wolf, that's all.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Stiles huffed, smiling when Peter listened. He was content to just stay like that the rest of the day, to shut the world and all the terrible things happening in Beacon Hills out for just a little longer. He wanted to just be happy for a little while longer, but the moment was shattered by his phone ringing, followed shortly by Peter's. “Damn it,” he cursed.

“Don't worry, Stiles. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right at your side.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it.” Peter assured, stealing another long kiss before reaching to hand Stiles his phone. “We're in this together.”

“At every opportunity.” Stiles added, grinning up at Peter as he swiped to answer the call.

#making a fantasy…a beautiful galaxy ✾ my fics #my fics #teen wolf fanfiction #steter #stiles x peter

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bonkers-4-hatter · 3 years ago

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Lotor X !Chubby Reader - Light Blue Lace

Anon asked: I can request Lotor x Chubby Reader Who is extremely shy about sex and insecure with their own body? Sorry if you do not understand, my English is not good.

A/N: This fic mentions that the reader is a female and will be referred to as a female in the story. It also does mention keywords and phrases that refer to the reader as chubby/fat in appearance. Minors DNI (do not interact) with this post if you are not 18+.

Trigger Warning: Discussions about body image, self deprecation, afab reader, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, praise, chubby/fat reader, mirror sex, squirting

Word Count: 3,567

-If you enjoyed this work, please consider buying me a coffee.

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hands smoothing over your sides as you felt the rolls and bumps that adorned each side. Your eyes trailed along the expanse of the lingerie that covered your form. Biting your lip at what your reflection showed you, you were second guessing yourself about everything.

The light blue sheer nightie was a pretty color, a color that Lotor always said made you even more radiant. You managed to find this piece in that color. You were planning on surprising him with this. Hair, make-up, perfume, everything was perfect for tonight, it had to be for your guys’ three year anniversary. He already treated you to a wonderful dinner along with your favorite bottle of wine, a treat you were pleasantly surprised with. He even took you to the observatory where he mapped our the galaxies above you both, his voice always soothed you no matter what he was talking about.

He’s always been so sweet and caring toward you. Making sure you had everything you needed, showered you with love and affection and he never rushed you when it came down to sex. Nothing escalated past a heavy make out session and touching while fully clothed. You wanted to surprise Lotor tonight and tell him you were ready to go all the way with him. Well...that’s what the plan was anyways, that was before you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Were you even good enough for him?

Eyes fixated on your protruding stomach as it stretched the delicate lace of the nightie. Turning to the side, your stomach stuck out more than your breasts did, something that you never really noticed until now. Did Lotor really like you just like this? I mean, he always said you were beautiful, but it could’ve just been words that he was spouting, men have a tendency to say whatever it takes to get what they want, at least that’s what it was like with other men in your life.

Your mind was doing summersaults at this point as your confident demeanor slowly slipped away, your back hunching a bit as you curled in on yourself, soft arms wrapping themselves around your form, turning away from the mirror. You decided to change and get rid of the makeup, maybe another night you can bring the idea up to Lotor, tonight through, your spirit was a bit defeated and you wanted nothing but to crawl into bed and forget about what happened with the nightie.

Taking one last look in the floor length mirror in front of the bed, you reached down to start and pull the garment off, but the door opened, Lotor’s voice filtered through.

“(Y/N), are you ready for-.” He stopped short as he locked eyes on you. Supple body covered in sheer light blue lace, hugging each curve and roll that adorned your ethereal being. He couldn’t stop his eyes from looking you up and down, filthy thoughts running through his mind as fantasies of hearing your moans and screams of pleasure ran through his head.

“Bed.” He finished his wandering thought as he quickly made his way toward you, each step filled with a burning need to touch even an inch of your plush skin. “Hi hun, I was just getting ready for bed.” You said this in hopes of just playing everything off and you hoped he was tired enough to just go to bed too.

Lotor’s hands found your waist, gripping the doughy flesh and pulling you close. “Darling, it looks as if you’re ready for something else besides bed.” There was a seductive tone to his words, one that made you flush, heat rising to your face and slick start to gather below. You tried to discreetly rub your thighs together to ease the building pressure. “I-I was, I wanted to surprise you tonight.” He hummed as his lips trailed kisses down your exposed neck, moving your hair out of the way to gain access to your neck.

“Surprise me you did starlight, you’ve made quite the impression.” He made his point by grinding his clothed cock against your ass. You could feel yourself getting wetter at the feeling of Lotor’s hardening cock, but those intrusive thoughts were coming up again. Wiggling yourself free, you turned to face your boyfriend.

“Are you sure you want to do this with me Lotor?” The uneasiness of your voice, the tremble of your lip and the pools of tears starting to gather in your eyes snapped him out of his lustful thoughts, large hands cupped your round cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that started to fall.

“My love, of course I want to do this with you.” Guiding you to the end of your shared bed, he sat you both down. You didn’t say anything as you gazed down at the floor, Lotor hated seeing you so down, it didn’t suit you. Gripping your soft chin between his fingers, he lifted your face up to meet his gaze. “You are my greatest treasure in this galaxy and I want to experience everything with you,” Leaning over he captured your lips in a gentle kiss before pulling back. “I need to know why you’re down my love, a night this special, you should be happy and on top of the world...tell me what’s wrong starlight.”

“I-I wanted to surprise you for our third year anniversary, b-but when I looked at myself in this,” You stopped talking as your hands caressed your stomach that stretched the lace, it was still sticking out and the fact that Lotor was seeing this too made you even more shameful. “All of these bad thoughts came to me...I’m not good enough for you, I’m not pretty enough, you deserve someone else, I’ll never be-.” Lotor captured your lips in a hard kiss making you stop short.

Breaking the kiss, he started peppering kisses all around your face in hopes of getting at least a small smile out of you which he did. Grabbing both of your hands he sighed. “Please starlight, never say those things about yourself again, they’re not true,” Before you could get a single word out, he continued. “You are the most amazing being in this galaxy (Y/N), you’re kind, caring, genuine and my love, you are stunning with every blemish, curve, those that you say are imperfections is what makes you the brightest star this cosmos have ever seen...can I show you exactly how much I adore you and this magnificent body of yours my love?”

You could feel the heat pool below as he caressed your bare thighs, sliding up the material of the thin nightie to expose the expanse of your generous legs. His large hands massaged the supple skin as he waited for your reply. “Yes, please show me.” Your meek voice whimpered this out as the Prince grinned before grabbing the end of the nightie and quickly pulling it up and off of you. His eyes scanned your bare breasts, nipples already hardened. Your arms started to cross, trying to cover yourself, but he grabbed your arms, moving them away for your chest to be on full display again. “Never cover yourself again starlight, I want to see every inch of your magnificent softness.”

Groping both breasts, the fullness and softness of them entrapped him. The moans you were spilling from your mouth were great too, soft whimpers as he rolled your buds, pinching and pulling the sensitive area. “I can smell how aroused you are starlight, absolutely breathtaking.” His words only caused you to become more wet and the fact that he could smell it only turned you on even more. “Now, let me show you how much I love you,” Large hands were on your waist as he hauled you onto his lap, hooking your legs around his as he spread open your soft legs giving him access to your dripping core, your arousal evident based on how drenched your light blue lace undies were. A visible wet spot in his line of sight as he made sure he had eyes on you in the mirror. Every spot of your body was in his sight and he loved it. “I promise to buy you more, but I need to feel you starlight.” With that, he ripped the lace panties off making you completely bare to him.

Lotor licked his lips as he spread your puffy lips, your wetness catching his eyes as he could feel some of it on his fingers. “Lotor, touch me, please.” Your soft voice brought a smile to his face, you weren’t focused on the negative thoughts now, you were getting needy and that’s exactly what he wanted. “Anything for you love, but, I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as a pleasure you, can you be good and do that for me?” He made contact with you in the mirror as you only nodded your head, a look of desperation filled your eyes as he could feel your slick gathering against his fingers as he still had your folds opened. Spreading your lips further he could see your clit, just begging to be touched. Your body jerked as Lotor finally touched your neglected clit. Instead of circling it, he wanted to tease you a bit, hear that sweet voice beg and whine for more. He started to gently tap it, your body jerking and hips rutting a bit to try and ease the friction. “Be patient love, though I do love to see you so needy for me.” He continued to tap and flick your swollen clit as your slick trailed down your open thigh, he loved seeing that and he honestly couldn’t wait any longer as he sank one finger into your weeping hole, your velvety walls immediately clenching around his finger. “More, please!” Your sweet cries made his cock twitch as he started to pump his finger in and out of your sopping hole, the dirty squelching sound of your juices made him groan out.

Adding another finger to your cunt, you let out a yelp, your head falling back. “Eyes straight ahead love, I want to see that look of bliss on your face.” Your head looked back up at the mirror as instructed , adding a third finger, Lotor was fixated on your weeping cunt as he thrusted his finger as far as he could, but with you clenching around him, it was impossible. “Relax my starlight, you’re doing amazing.” Your face was flushed as you looked at what he was doing to you in the mirror, your wetness all over his fingers and covering your inner thighs. Your stomach started to tighten up, you knew he could feel you were close my how much you were clenching around his fingers. “ ‘m close, m-more!” The way your tits bounced with each thrust of his fingers, mouth opened as gasps and whimpers flew out and your weeping cunt being so messy was the greatest sight to see. He wanted to see you cum. Going faster, his fingers were hammering themselves into you. “Feels w-weird, ss-stop, please!” Wrapping an arm around your stomach, he continued to piston his fingers into you. “You’re okay love, I’ve got you, just let it go.” Tears started to fall from you as you felt the knot in your stomach grow bigger, your legs started to shake and you couldn’t hold back any longer. You cried out Lotor’s name as you felt and saw your juices spray onto his fingers. “Look at that, such a beautiful sight and it’s all for me.” You couldn’t saw anything as your cunt continued to squirt something that would usually make you feel embarrassed, but seeing it right in front of you was erotic and this just made you want more. Lotor made sure you were settled before pulling fingers out of your used hole, evidence of how much your squirted was evident on your thighs, the duvet of the bed and the dark spots on the floor.

Shifting you onto the bed again, he stood up, hovering over your form as you continued to regain your breathing from your intense orgasm. “You look so beautiful (Y/N), tonight is all about you love, now,” grasping your legs still wet with your juices, he pulled you to the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the edge. “Lotor?” Using your forearms to sit up, you looked up at Lotor who just smiled down at you. “I need to taste you darling.” Kneeling down, he was eye level with your mound. Setting his hands on your inner thighs he spread your legs a bit more, hands sliding up to pull your puffy, wet lips apart. Before you knew it, he licked a long strip up your cunt, your juices spilling on his tongue as he circled your hard clit, swirling the appendage in a circular motion. “F-fuck!” Your voice cried out, hips rutting themselves wanting more from him as he continued to tease your little bud.

Sliding his tongue back down, he could feel how wet you were becoming as your arousal started to cover his tongue, some of it seeping onto his face. He fucking loved it and he wanted more. As you continued to try and rut against his face, he pinned your hips down to the bed and practically shoved his face into you causing the most wonton moan he’s ever heard from you. HIs tongue slithered into your sopping wet hole, feeling your velvety walls again, his nose nudging against your clit as he continued to eat you out. He could feel your juices running down his chin, splashing his cheek and he was in heaven. Your taste was something he’ll never forget. He felt you wrap your legs around his back as he was pushed further into your fat pussy, something he was fine with, it made him hit a spot he never did before. Glancing up, he looked over the curve of your beautiful stomach to your face as you were still up on your forearms that were currently now shaking, but the fucked out look on your face would be engrained in his memory forever, the flush of your face, the drool starting to trail down out of your open mouth, the moans and whimpers, it was all perfect, you’re perfect.

His mouth attached to your clit as he aggressively sucked the bud. “ ‘m almost the-there! Lotor!” Hearing you say his name so needy like that sparked something in him as he gripped your hips harder and started to suck harder, even biting the hard bud in some instances, but wanting you to cum now, he bit your clit a bit harder than he did before causing the knot to break as your orgasm washed over the Prince. Your legs practically pinned him to you as your whole body shook. Lotor intended not to let a single drop of your essence go to waste as he slurped up everything that touched his tongue. As you finished, your legs fell limp, falling down, dangling off the edge of the bed again.

Licking his lips, he stood up to take you in again, breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath again. “You did so well my queen,” You smiled up at him, a tired look in your eyes, hair sprawled around you like a halo. He started to undress himself from his armor, various parts falling to the floor as he hastily took everything off. His cock sprang free. Your eyes were glued on it, it was a light shade of purple and the tip was an angry red, precum gathered at the top and some even dripping down the length of his shaft. “Such a beautiful, gorgeous girl I have, how did I get so lucky?” Without another word, he picked you up, which wasn’t that hard as the bottom part of your body was already dangling off the bed.

You never minded Lotor carrying you and picking you up, he was strong you knew that and he always enjoyed carrying you around like the queen you were. Those were always his words and it always made you smile. He placed both of you on the bed, wrapping himself around your warm and soft form. A nice silence fell between you both as you basked in the afterglow of what just happened. You could feel his hardness against your thigh. Wrapping your hand around his length, you started to pump only to have him grab your hand and give the top of it a kiss. “Tonight is all about you my love, let me pleasure you tonight.” You laughed and kissed his lips. “You already did pleasure me, multiple times, might I add.” He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, hands coming to rest on your waist as he deepened the kiss. “Not fully starlight.”

With that, he climbed on top of you, lips finding themselves on yours once more, he hoped you could taste yourself in the kiss. Feeling his cock twitch against your leg, you widened your legs for him without hesitation. “Take me Lotor, I’m all yours.” Those words struck him as his cock twitched at the submission of their meaning. Lining himself up, he stuck his tip into your puffy lips causing you to moan at the feeling.

“Are you ready, love?” You nodded at his words as he sweetly kissed your temple before pushing his cock the rest of the way in. Your back arched at the feeling of his cock stretching you out and filling you up so deliciously, it was something you’ve never felt before. When he bottomed out, he stilled, looking down at your face for an indication that he could continue. He knew you were well prepared, but he still didn’t want to hurt you. You reached to intertwine your hand with his as you smiled up at him with a nod. Pulling his hips back, he snapped them forward, your walls squeezing and sucking him in as he continued to fuck your abused cunt. The sound of slapping skin and cries and groans filled the room. Lotor had a hard time keeping himself in due to how soaked you were, but with the grip your walls had on him he was able to not slip out.

Your hands were now gripping the the bedspread, breasts in motion with his thrusts as tears poured from your eyes. You screamed his name like a prayer and it was music to his ears. “Feel so good, fill me up so good!” You didn’t know what you were saying, it was just spewing from you, it felt so good, he felt so good and you couldn’t control it. “Love you Lotor, want more, please!” He wasn’t in good shape either, he could feel himself getting closer and your words, heavens, your words were making it so harder to just not cum right now.

Grabbing your knees, he pushed them up to either side of your head, your stomach rolls were on full display but you didn’t give a damn, you needed to cum, the knot in your belly tightening with each thrust Lotor gave. He had such a wonderful view of your cunt being stuffed with his cock, he could see the creamy ring around his cock as it was stuffed into you. He had your lips spread so he could get a good look, the sight was erotic and filthy. It caused him to speed up his thrusts, your body in this position jigging in such an erratic way he couldn’t help but grin at the sight before him.

“Where my starlight, I won’t last much longer.” He grunted his out as he could feel himself come undone. “Inside, please, cum inside me!” Your words caused him to hammer his cock into you, the thought of filling you up was enough to make it a reality. His hand went down to rub at your clit, the added sensation making your body jolt as the building pleasure snapped making you cum on his cock that was still fucking you with vigor. “Fuck! I’m going to fill you up so much starlight, I love you so much.” Before you could say anything, he gave one final thrust, his hot seed filling you to the brim. Looking down, he could see some dribble out and down.

Both of you were breathing hard, your legs were numb as they were still up in that position, but the feeling you had right now was amazing and if that was the price of it, you were fine with that. Lotor pulled out of you, your whine reaching his ears as the sight of your juices and his seed spilling our of your hole. Finally lifting your legs down, he gave you a kiss on your forehead before he started to get up.

You grabbed his hand, before he could fully get up. “I’ll be back love, I’m just getting the bath ready for us.” Before you let him go, you tugged his hand a bit as he turned his attention to you. “I love you Lotor, more than anything.” He gave your held hand another kiss. “I love you too (Y/N), more than anything in the galaxy.”

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sweetmotherof · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu Fics: The Classics™️

EDIT: pt 2!!

I wanted to make a post to archive what I would call “The Classics” as far as Haikyuu fanfic on ao3 goes. For anyone new to the daunting world of Haikyuu fanfiction, these works are probably the most popular, talked-about works throughout the fandom, so they are a good place to start! I haven’t read some of these, but the reason I included them is that I’ve seen so much hype around them. Comment the ones I missed, and I’m definitely going to be doing a part 2. Enjoy <3 :D

*contains nsfw fics* READ TAGS BEFORE U READ

⭑=my faves

BOKUAKA

Rules by ConesOfDunshire⭑

E, 120 k words

Accountant Akaashi. Pianist Bokuto. WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT??? This fic is seriously novel-worthy, and Bokuto having Asperger’s is a beautiful component to the story. I found that the characterization and the attention to detail the author put into the story is what made it a truly distinguishable and unique fic that allowed it to rise to the top. It is worth every kudos, comment, bookmark, and more. Highly recommend.

Behind Bricks by DeathBelle⭑

E, 60 k words, cw: prostitution, choking, and heavy content so READ THE TAGS

This darker fic follows Akaashi as he deals with his life as a prostitute, and how Bokuto comes in and is able to change it for the better. I feel sometimes that heavy topics such as the trauma from sex work are really misrepresenting in fanfiction, but the author does a great job of portraying it in a real way and not romanticizing it at all. I loved to watch love bloom for Akaashi in the cracks of his tumultuous life, because he deserves everything <333

In Another Life by LittleLuxray⭑

T, 22 k words, cw: terminal illness, hospitals, major character death

As the highest-rated Haikyuu fanfic on ao3, this work is a monument and will go down in Haikyuu history. That being said, it honestly did such a number on me that I think it deserves the hype. This hospital au revolving around Akaashi and Bokuto’s budding relationship is truly heartbreaking, to say the least. Read it at your own risk, and oh, you can find references to it under almost any Bokuaka related post.

IWAOI

Conquering the Great King by SuggestiveScribe

105 k words, E

This rollercoaster of a fic, set in a universe where Oikawa and Iwaizumi meet in a bar, is funny, profound, and awe-inspiring all in one. The relationship dynamic between the two is very cute and well-done. I highly recommend this one if you are a sucker for some good, old Iwaoi, and I also love the side pairings. Just, overall, a really nice and satisfying read.

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu(chanyeol)

T, 66.3k words, cw: injury, homophobia

This fic is a favorite on tik tok, from what I’ve observed. I haven’t read it yet, but when people discuss it, they always commend the writing and the non-linear narrative. I have personally not read this one yet, but I have seen people rave about this one because of the emotional impact it had on them. It seems to me that the writing and emotions on this one are its claims to fame, so definitely check it out.

Desperado by Verbrennung

M, 82k words

Talk about raved about fics, I have seen this one mentioned countless times on various platforms. This Iwaoi fic is set in a Vegas/Japan fusion setting, which immediately caught my eye. The premise of a heist fic also is probably what caught people's attention the most, because what is better than an Iwaoi heist fic (nothing. nothing is better.) I recommend this if you want a bit of a longer fic that had a tumultuous plot and a wild romance.

SAKUATSU

Burden of Blame by DeathBelle⭑

E, 91k words, cw: graphic violence, guns, ptsd, panic attacks, murder, death, injury and more so READ TAGS

Burden of Blame is THE mafia au fic of the Haikyuu ao3 universe. I love this fic soooo much. From it’s wild plot to the flawless writing, I was constantly on my feet. I definitely recommend if you want something that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Also, the enemies to lovers is CHEFS FUCKING KISS.

A Liar’s Truth by internetpistol⭑

E, 49.6k words, cw: HOMOPHOBIA!! read tags pls

Oh. My. God. I simply cannot with this fic. It turned me inside out, upside down, and threw me into the void. Please, if you have one singular brain cell, you will read this fic. This narrative about Sakusa’s life and his relationship with his sexuality is a masterpiece. I cannot recommend this one enough. You do not want to miss out on this genuine piece of art.

Stick With You by lettersinpetals

E, 99k words

This fic follows Sakusa and Atsumu as they get stuck in the Philippines over quarantine. Honestly, if you want an enemies to lovers that really goes in depth into the trope, this is the one for you. One of my favorite things about this fic is the inclusion of the Filipino language, and I found myself reading all of the translations at the end. I would recommend this if you want a longer, feel good Sakuatsu fic. Also, lettersinpetals is a Sakuatsu classic author.

the Terminal Curiosity series by favspacetwink and moonlumie

E, total 112k words, not finished, 8 works, READ TAGS

This fic is probably the notorious BDSM fic, which I’m glad because it portrays it in a very consensual and safe way. I’m personally not into that stuff, but I still was able to enjoy it for the plot and the amazing writing. I definitely recommend it if you are looking for something with BDSM components with some focus on their relationship dynamics too. I actually did really enjoy this fic, and I think the way their relationship kind of progressed backward was really, really good. Even if BDSM isn’t your cup of tea, I still recommend checking this one out and reading the tags to see if it is something you’re willing to give a chance too, because, for me, it paid off.

KUROKEN

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony

T, 30.9k words, cw: illness, DEATH

I have yet to read this fic. I am genuinely too afraid. Similarly to In Another Life, I constantly see people discussing to the degree in which this fic destroyed them, and honestly after In Another Life, I don’t think I could handle another one. This soulmates au has crushed so many people throughout the fandom that if you want someone to give you more detail on why it’s the saddest thing ever, you probably wouldn’t have to look very far.

Of Monsters and Men by shions_heart

M, 220k words, cw: violence, temporary character death

This longer fic follows Kuroo, Kenma, and many others through a demon hunter/buffy the vampire-style universe, with magic, drama, and much more. If you are looking for a fantasy, action-packed, beautifully written fic, this is definitely one you should check out. The romance and action combination will always be chefs kiss, superb.

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zeenmrala · 3 years ago

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By The Light Of The Second Moon

A Darth Maul x F/AFAB!Reader Fanfiction

chapter ten: the broken, the damned

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CHAPTER SUMMARY: You make the most of your time with Maul above the rains. With this time comes art and answers - but could there be implications of knowing this man so intimately? RATING: Explicit. This work is strictly for those 18+ due to sexual content. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT. WORD COUNT: 8.2k CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: This chapter is all fluff, angst and anxiety. Smut: unprotected PiV sex. CHAPTER SONGS: hostage, billie eilish. k., cigarettes after sex. A/N: Check out the art from this chapter’s banner by @elledjarin. Thanks for your wonderful fanart Elle, you are the best. I would really appreciate feedback of my splicing in more Maul POV. There will likely be more moving forward, but if it doesn't work or you do not like it, please do (kindly) let me know. Thanks again for all of the support ♡

Chapter 10 The Broken, The Damned

You often dream of a place that exists solely for the two of you. A place without your relentless and snaking anxieties, a place beyond the reach of the meddling hands of the rest of the galaxy. Somewhere without the looming ominousness of your family history, untainted by the odious darkness of Maul’s secrets. A place for the both of you to be free from everything that is not each other.

It seems that tonight is the closest you are ever going to get to such a place.

You do not want the night to end. Of course you don’t. Stars, parts of it feel so perfect that you can believe it never will. It feels as though you are suspended outside the bounds of time, each moment so impeccable in its simplicity, so magnificent in its sheer ease, that the laws of the universe are broken beyond repair. Just the two of you at the edge of the world, isolated from the storm, watching on in blissful separation together.

However – it is not easy to commit yourself to the present moment, not at first. You hold so much inner turmoil, so much doubt and concern on how to handle things moving forward. There are so many questions that you want to ask Maul. You want to ask him about his interaction with your Father. How had that come to be? How had Maul taken his memories? How had that whole situation been left? How long had you been away? Are your family currently looking for you? Part of you wants to abandon this nonsensical dream, to give in to your frustration and upset, to squander the make-believe of this night. To stand up and scream, to demand answers for everything. Answers concerning his strange and frightening abilities – how he has that uncanny power to peer inside your mind, how he was able to choke you without touching you. Why he refuses to answer the most basic of questions. Why he is here, who he is, what he wants. And there is a new question that you now crave the answer for above all else. What are his intentions for the future?

For your future?

Your worry and anxiety has a way of latching on to every thought, possessing every fibre of your being, refusing to be ignored. The need for reassurance and awareness itches in every corner of your mind. It holds such weight, such an uncomfortable and sickly pressure in your middle, an unrelenting sharp ache at the back of your brain. And yet: how could you possibly humour such misery right now? When you sit with your lover, isolated from the wider universe, in the way that you have wished for since you first met him? This beautiful pocket of time above the rains, above the land and the seas – with him.

You cannot allow your uneasiness and insecurity to ruin such a gift. To consider the concerns of the future and the past, of the world beyond this place, of the demands of the larger galaxy, of anything that is currently out of your reach up here – would be to dispose of a fantasy from your wildest dreams. No. You will not allow the corrupting tendrils of anxiety to reach in and steal you away from this type of harmony.

So when a worry blossoms to life in your mind, you acknowledge it, then push it away. You bury each concern deep within you to tackle in the morning, storing them to deal with when it is time to problem-solve. It is not possible to simply pretend that everything is fine. Because it is not, and you both know that. Instead, you both temporarily deny reality in an unspoken pact of serenity.

This night has come to be a temporary reprieve from any suffering, and you do not let go of his hand.

Together, you watch the violent, lilac storm rage on. It is cold up here, and you lean into Maul, craving the inherent heat of his skin. Maker, he is always so warm. He breathes slow, measured breaths, his strong frame so solid and comforting, protective. It’s a safety like none you have ever known before, to be by his side. You sit between moments of comfortable silence, and portions of time where you talk at length about anything and everything. About your own life, of what life exists beyond the stars of your system.

And for the first time, Maul speaks about himself.

Though only briefly. He tells you that he is native to a planet named Dathomir, and that is where he received his tattoos, as a child. But he also adds that he was not raised there, because when he was young, he was chosen to be taken off-world and trained to do the work that he does now. Though he will not elaborate much further than that, no matter how many questions you ask.

“So,” he says, “I am from Dathomir.” He looks down at you, and you cock a brow at him for repeating himself. “And you are from Sushariel.” You frown in a mix of intrigue and befuddlement, and of course, he smirks. You are beginning to think that he likes confusing you and actively goes out of his way to do so on purpose.

In truth, he does. He appreciates your reactions: he enjoys watching how such small things excite you, to sense that strong enthusiasm and curiosity you have for almost anything. He likes the expression on your face when he says something that you have never heard before, likes how you slightly scrunch up your nose, how you eye him with a smile of both anticipation and suspicion as you wait for him to explain himself.

“That is the name of this planet,” he says. “Sushariel. It means ‘to rain’ in the language of the explorer who catalogued this place many centuries ago. Though colloquially it seems that you call it simply, the ‘Planet.’ How quaint,” he teases.

You stutter. “W-What else would we call it? It is the Planet. Besides, I cannot believe it does not rain like this on other worlds. Rain is not anything special,” you reply with a scoff.

“Maybe not,” he grins at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you making fun of me?” you ask playfully.

“Of course not,” he says, though that sweet, smug smile lingers on his lips. He is absolutely teasing you. “But it is odd that you do not know the name.”

You roll your eyes then look at him as if to say, really? Is it really that odd?

He nods. “Yes, actually – I suppose it does not truly surprise me.”

You know nothing.

You shake that cold voice, his voice away.

No more pain.

“Sushariel,” you speak it for the first time quietly, and unable to contain your excitement, you grin. “Maker, how does my Planet have a completely different name that I have never heard before? I have not once known that name to be spoken here.” Your hands begin to tingle, not from the cold – but from your chronic need to note down and sketch any and all new information.

“It is strange, but this is a strange place,” he agrees. “You speak galactic basic here. You are a tight-knit, mixed species settlement. Your planet was catalogued a very long time ago, and is not known for being habituated. I did not expect to find a community here. You are all clearly not native to this planet, yet not connected to the Republic either, behind technologically, primitive – I do wonder how this came to be.”

“That is something that I actually do know,” you say with confidence. He tilts his head in question.

“Well – the story goes, that our ancestors were all passengers on a starship, bound for a new world, a new life,” you say. “It is just a myth, really. Or it has now been long enough to become one. But supposedly, there was a terrible accident and they crashed here. They were stuck – no emergency beacons, no way of contacting anyone. All they had was their wrecked ship and the clothes on their backs. So the survivors were terribly unlucky. Though at the same time, incredibly fortunate: as they crashed on the one part of the Planet that was somewhat habitable, the space surrounded and protected by the ancient forests. They stayed and adapted to the conditions here. Forced to start from scratch and carve out a life for themselves.”

You smile as you tell the story, a tale passed from every parent to their children. You wonder, as you have many times in your life how it would have felt for those people, so long ago, to come to terms with the fact that they were stranded here. So far away from the worlds they once knew, their plans and dreams dashed and ruined. Alone. You ponder how much has really changed since then – most likely, very little.

“It is primitive here, sure. But it is peaceful, as untouched as we are by the wider galaxy. The Planet’s weather is not all that bad, not when you know no different. The seasons between the rains are beautiful, the summer especially. The rains, the storms – the severity of them protects us from outlaws and long-term invaders, from those who are unable to live without ease and convenience. No natural resources for anyone to fuss over. No travel routes nearby. No drama, I suppose.” You pause briefly. “So maybe there is outdated technology. Maybe there aren’t droids, or fancy hospitals or huge cities. But there is no war, no strife. There is no conflict that cannot be resolved by ourselves.”

You sigh, looking out further across the land, to the violent waves of the ocean that peak through the thick sheets of silver clouds.

“I often feel resentment to have been born here, to have been condemned to a life so outside of everything, to feel so stranded and isolated. To have no real purpose. To look up at the moons, to gaze beyond them, at the stars and the darkness of space, dreaming of what is out there, of who is out there, and never knowing. Never being privy to anything beyond the surgery, my sketches. But I am aware of my blessings. I am often reminded, that me and mine can be considered a fortunate minority. That out of the trillions of lives connected and controlled by the Republic – we have been left to our own devices, hidden from the harsh reality of life beyond this little town. Left alone,” your breath hitches as you say it, as you know that it is no longer the truth.

It never was.

“Well, for the most part,” you add and close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The truth of what happened to your cousin, of your Mother and the visitors that changed the course of her life and yours forever, seep into your thoughts.

No. Not tonight.

“I want to show you something,” he says, squeezing your hand and heaving you up, literally pulling you from your melancholy. Your stomach lurches as he brings you to your feet, being so animated so close to the drop is a little too much for your nerves.

“Something else?” you say with a nervous laugh. And then you catch a look over the edge, and it is so far down that your bones feel like they have turned to liquid.

But then Maul tilts your cheek so that you are looking at him. He catches your lips in a kiss, one of his hands still holding yours, the one he used to touch your face is now resting on your waist. He shifts your body closer, and you relax into his hard chest, kissing him back softly. The nervousness fades away, the sharp drop in your abdomen replaced with a sweet lightness at being handled so securely, touched so delicately by his strong hands.

You can feel him smile into the kiss.

He senses your alarm melt into comfort, your lack of surety transform into security. He takes a moment to appreciate that feeling, the way that your emotions rapidly change because of him – of how being in his arms is enough to totally ease your fears. It has become somewhat addictive for him, to sense how you feel about him. To track your reactions to his touch, to sense that contentment and belonging you feel when in his presence, a feeling so strange and unfamiliar to him. To notice the way that your eyes seem to soften more and more each time you look upon him.

To have such control over you, to influence your emotions so easily and with no effort, is of course, thrilling to him. It is in his nature to assume power, to seek out ways to dominate. But that is not the truth of it, not entirely. For it goes much deeper than that now. To be trusted in this way, cared for and thought of so highly – it is totally new, and endlessly confounding. It is not that he is insecure, or undeserving, or even inexperienced. It is that his understanding of passion is vastly different to the kind that he now feels for you. He has only ever desired that which will lead him to victory. Craved only the bloodshed that will further his destiny of inflicting vengeance upon the Jedi. But now, he also desires something else. Something that is not strictly a part of his path, something so innocent and effortless – a person who is outside of it all.

He asks himself again: Is this simply a trick? Another test of loyalty, a game to discover how he can prioritise, how he can handle…distractions? He finds that he questions if his meeting you is truly the will of the Force – or once more, just the will of his Master. It often feels that they are one and the same.

He doubts. Not often, but he does. Disillusion, discord, defiance. He has his fair share. He is Sith, after all. But he wonders - could these feelings, these new desires and their intensity, this particular strain of passion, could it not be a new path to strength, to power, to victory? Are these emotions, as unexpected and strange as they are – are they not a well of untouched potential? An additional, or even, alternative course? The growing intensity of his attachment to you makes him question everything he has been raised to know.

He has never developed such a connection to a person, something so intimate, both ground-breaking and harmless at once. It has been many, many years since he has found that he wants to have someone else around. And that this someone is a woman as innocent and pure of heart as you, that this someone brings him nothing other than affection: there is no underlying motive, no requirements, no purpose beyond desire. That you have become emotionally invested in him, for nothing more than that he is him. At times, it even feels unconditional.

It is difficult to make sense of.

He breaks the kiss. The two of you share a brief look, on the edge of the mountain, above the storm – where you seem to silently acknowledge what is between you, that you are so vastly different, yet so tenderly connected. But then the moment ends, and he leads you back to his ship. You both make your way to the cockpit, the warmth inside welcoming and pleasant. He finds and activates a small disc shaped device, and it shoots up a glowing blue holo-map, an image unlike anything you have seen before.

“This is your planet,” he points at a small sphere, labelled in Aurebesh as Sushariel. Then he pulls the image back – and your Planet suddenly seems so small, so tiny in the expanse of space around it. You watch as the image changes, details emerging – and you see four, small orbs around Sushariel. “This is our moon,” he smirks, pointing at it. Your cheeks burn and you smile, looking on in dizzying embarrassment. But you secretly like that he has continued to call it that, even if it is only to tease you. Then the image changes again.

“This is your star system, and this,” he says, tapping at the disc. “This a map of the known galaxy.”

The image reels backwards, zooming further and further out. It just keeps…going. He abruptly stops it to point out a planet that is so far from your own, you could not identify it again. “This is where I was raised,” he says faintly, indicating a planet labelled as Mustafar.

You bring your hands to your mouth as he then lets it go again, and soon, the full map is displayed before you in varying shades of blue and white. Planets, star systems, asteroid belts, nebulas, hyperspace lanes, all labelled and glowing in front of you. It is huge. This is the galaxy. The known galaxy. You gasp quietly, the fingers of one hand lingers over your lips, the other rests on your stomach as you flicker your eyes across the vast image. It is beyond comprehension. You knew it was large of course, bigger than your tiny mind could ever imagine – but to see it here, displayed in front of you? A seemingly endless list of places that exist, with their own physics and laws, stars and moons, weathers, oceans, cultures, histories and more, things that you do not even know of. All the life, the creatures, people, plants. The technology and art. Maker, you feel as though you are a small, wilting leaf on a shrub in the forest, trying to comprehend the magnitude of the Great Wood’s flora. You feel like a speck of dust, an inconsequential, flaking piece of nothing. But at the same time – you also feel so tiny and insignificant in the most comforting and enthralling way.

Maul watches you through the blue haze of the projection, how your eyes are slightly wide and wet with emotion as you gaze across the holo-map. He watches as you move closer, your hand gentle as you reach toward the core planets. Your lips pull into a wide grin, and you slowly exhale and shake your head slightly. You are in awe, and cannot form words for a moment. You bring your eyes to his, speaking softly, “Can I – ” He nods, knowing what you want, revealing your sketchpad in his left hand.

He reaches across the galaxy to return it to you.

He distorts the holographic image with his black-sleeved arm, and you reach out to take the book from him. As you look at him through the flickering blue glow, you recognise a familiar sight. It is almost a mirror image, of that first night when he gave you back your sketchpad. Stood on opposite sides of an ancient tree stump, his grip tight on the book, those hard, severe features illuminated by the low-light of the dwarf moon. How you wanted more than anything, to just see his face. It seems absurd that it was only a handful of rotations ago when you were deathly afraid of him, when you were so terrified of him looking inside of your sketchpad. When you knew even less than you know now.

You smile.

Stars. It seems that so much, yet so very little has changed.

It turns out that you don’t have your pouch of sketching tools with you – though you left your book here, you returned your pencils to your Brother’s house. You curse when you realise, sourly disappointed. All you have is your night shift and the robe that you left in, and even the robe is Maul’s. Luckily (and strangely) enough, he stole a couple of your pencils when he previously had them in his possession.

“Thief,” you whisper playfully. “What did you do that for?”

He only smirks in response, slipping them between your fingers with a smug kiss on your temple. He really can be so odd.

You insist that he come outside with you, so you can sketch the landscape first, before the lighting changes too much. It is perfect as it is, the bright illumination of the second moon hanging in a perfect circle in the sky, and you want to commit this to paper, here and now. He obliges, and you both settle on the ground – not so close to the edge this time. You are between his legs, your back against his chest, his arms around you. He holds you as you work in silence, keeping you warm against the growing cold of the night.

You have never sketched in front of anyone before, not like this. You have done your drawings around other people of course, but never has somebody watched each stroke of your pencil and each movement of your fingers in the way that he does now. It makes you feel self-conscious at first, especially when you make mistakes, and those cruel words he once spoke ring in your ears. But you force yourself to stop it. Once you shake yourself out of your insecurity, it isn’t so bad. After all, you have grown comfortable with the weight of his eyes on you, so it does not take much getting used to.

With the calm lull of his breathing and the soothing warmth of his body behind you – it does not take long before sketching under his eyes to feel like the most natural thing in the world.

You do not usually mind being without varied pigments – sketching with the dark grey slate of your pencils is usually more than enough for you. But tonight, you wish that you were able to represent the colours of the scene. The dark silvers and greys of the clouds are much more beautiful when contrasted with the sharp purple of the lightening. The dusky blue of the moonlight is a cool complement, a steady and fitting mix of hues that make the view so breath-taking. It does not matter too much, you comfort yourself – it is still such an incredible landscape to be able to sketch. You allow yourself a moment to feel the extent of your gratitude – a warm expansion in your chest, your heart so full. How many, out of the trillions of people that have lived in this galaxy, have ever looked upon this very sight? It is likely that nobody else ever has. This really is a place that belongs to only you and Maul.

It is such a mesmerising concept that it almost makes you cry.

You shake off your wonderment, returning to your work, focusing until you eventually finish your drawing. You sit up straight with an exaggerated flourish of your hands and smile, stretching out your arms. You then lean further into Maul as he strokes your hair, kisses your cheek.

“Very nice,” he compliments you quietly. It is slightly awkward receiving his praise over your art, as he has never said anything kind about it before. It is completely unexpected and throws you off slightly. A tingle of embarrassment sweeps up your neck and face, and you feel a sudden compulsion to hide away. It also feels good though, too – and you smile.

He then takes the book out of your hands, and flicks through it. You feel a stab of panic, which is the automatic response to the idea of anyone touching or looking through it. You have come to terms with him doing so though, so you relax, knowing that he does not really –

Oh, kriff.

He stops on that drawing, the one of himself. The one from that night when he made you cry. It is a good portrait, his likeness accurately portrayed on the page – but it only represents one particular version of him, the side of him that is vindictive and ruthless. Your lines are harsh, dark and deep, drawn with the weight of frustration and angst. His face is hard, his scowl stern, eyes cruel. Chaotic shading further darkens his countenance, and you remember the cold severity of his apathy to your sketchpad, the malice of his words. It stirs a slightly sharp pang in your chest – and oh Maker, you want to cringe in embarrassment when you notice that there are even tear stains on the page. Your breath hitches as you look up at him, when you see him slowly run his eyes over your rendition of his own face, obviously witnessing it for the first time. Again, you do not expect him to say anything at all. But then he speaks.

“Is this how you see me?” He asks, somewhat wistfully.

“It was,” you admit, in slight surprise at his sombre reaction. He nods, a sad smile flickering on his lips as he traces the edge of the page with his finger.

“Come, lady,” he says, quickly closing the book with a snap. “It is cold.” Then he pulls you to your feet, and you both go back into the starship.

You sketch as much of the holo-map as possible, but you know before you even begin that it is a fruitless task, to try and commit the entire galaxy to paper. So you focus instead on your star system, grinning wildly as you copy it down, labelling everything with the strange names that the wider galaxy knows the celestial objects by. You make notes on what you think of it all, you scribble down each thought of the night so far. You even try to put into words your experience of that jarring memory-vision – though the sour emotions of it tug at your chest and you abandon it soon after that. You continue to refuse to think about it tonight – no more tears.

As you are working, Maul is quiet. He soon settles down on the floor, crossing his legs and closing his eyes. Then he seems to be…in a trance? Maybe, meditating in some way? You look at him curiously, watching him for a moment. He is focused and entirely still, his breathing slow. He does not seem to be bothered by your staring, if he even notices you doing it. So you keep working at the pages of your journal, scribbling and doodling as quietly as you can, as not to disturb him.

But you keep bringing your attention back to him, to look at him under the artificial lights of his ship. The warm incandescence of them suit him, the soft white and red hues complimenting his crimson-black skin much better than the blue that you are so used to. You move away from the holo-map, and closer to him. He really is so striking in every way, with his strong, toned body, bold markings and gracefully curved horns. His face is relaxed with no obvious emotion expressed, though you can tell that he is focused – his eyes closed, his back so straight and body so still you could believe he was not an organic being at all.

You cannot seem to pull your eyes away from him. So you pick up your sketchpad and you draw him. Over and over again. His whole body, his face, the shapes of his tattoos in detail. You work on capturing the self-assured, regal confidence that he so naturally emits by just existing. How his clothing drapes the smooth, muscled planes of his body – his body that you are so familiar with now. You feel a zap of longing as you recall the times that you have run your lips across his chest, laced your fingers around his horns. You want to trail your kisses up the inky black of his neck, run your hands down his hard, hot body, take him…

You shake your head. Maker. You will never be able to come to terms with how attracted you are to this man. Your desire for him is insatiable – you bite your bottom lip, and try to not get carried away with such thinking. But your legs slightly part of their own accord, your knees feel weak, your eyes are glossy as you look upon him slightly more furtively.

It cannot seem to be helped.

But you sketch through it. You sketch and sketch, determined to represent a different side of him – to offer an alternative to the portrait that he seemed so disconcerted by. You are so focused on your sketching that when you quickly glance up at your muse, you fail to notice that his eyes are now open. In fact, you do not realise until you feel the heaviness of his stare.

Stars.

You immediately stop what you are doing with a light gasp and meet your eyes to his.

“Oh hi,” you say softly, closing your sketchpad as nonchalantly as you can.

He grunts and relaxes his frame with a sigh, leaning back on his hands and stretching out his legs. He looks over you, notes how you hold your sketchpad and pencils, how you are blushing slightly, how you shift your body and look to the floor in abashment and guilt. He eyes you suspiciously.

“…Were you sketching me?”

“No,” you lie, unable to stop the brash smile that tugs at your lips. He frowns and tuts at your dishonesty, so you huff at him, laying your sketchpad and pencils down and sauntering closer. You straddle his hips and he sits up to better support you, wrapping his arms around you. You kiss him, cradling his face in the palms of your hands.

“Mmm,” you hum above him, his fond touch and comforting warmth making your body crave his once more. “What were you just doing?” you ask.

He groans softly, taking a deep breath. Which means he is not going to tell you. You could have guessed as much. So you kiss him again and dip your tongue into his lips, moving your hand to hold the back of his head. You lap at his mouth, your fingers of your free hand pulling at the edge of his tunic. He kisses you back, one of his hands now in your hair, the other running down your back. He shifts upwards and into you, and you lace your legs around him. He shrugs off his robe as you pull open his tunic, revealing his decorated chest. He bites your bottom lip and you moan, but then he pulls back and breaks the kiss.

You are breathing heavily, looking at him in confusion. “Are you oka –”

“The more time that I spend with you, the less I want to answer your questions,” he says, cutting you off.

You stutter, slightly flustered at his abruptness. “W-what?”

“The longer that we are together, the more I do not want to tell you anything.”

“But – but surely it should be the other way around?”

He shakes his head.

“Well, will you not explain why? That is a…kind of a spiteful thing to say,” you admit, feelings slightly hurt. “Do you not…trust me?”

He shakes his head. “It is not – ”

“Are you…just being cruel?” You are sincere. You really do not understand.

“No, dear girl,” he replies. “Quite the opposite.”

“But that makes no sense.”

He sighs, his hand slipping down from your hair to your neck.

He has spent the last hour or so in meditation, connecting with the Force and wading through the depth of his emotions, trying to process this exact predicament – and concluding that he cannot answer your questions, under any circumstances. It has already gone too far, he has grown much too comfortable. He cannot let you in.

But he has considered otherwise, and it is difficult for him. It grows more and more confusing with each moment at your side. Because he is tempted to tell you everything, to give in to his own desires, to unburden himself. He does not want to lie. In fact, sometimes all he can think about is telling you the truth. He wants to reveal himself to you, all of him, the strongest and most impressive parts of himself that he hides from all those he does not destroy. He wants you to desire that part of him, the core of who he is, to witness the true breadth of the power that he holds. It is his pride that tempts him, and he is selfish – he understands that. He embraces that.

And he must focus on that aspect of this dilemma, and that aspect alone.

For there is another part to it that could dampen his potential. Because he knows that he also wants to ease your suffering, that he is sympathetic for your upset, for your confusion. He believes that how he interacts with you borders on compassion. No, being honest with himself – he has been compassionate towards you. Which is too great a weakness – it is a weakness that could unravel everything. It is the downfall of his enemy, their most chronic defect.

Darth Maul will not stand for such flaws.

And yet…he finds that he would like to. He is greatly discomforted in seeing you suffer, and wants to put a stop to it. In any way he can. It is a disconcerting desire, an unusual instinct. To care. But for either reason, whether for your benefit or for his pride, he cannot reveal such a secret. He curses himself each time he does consider it. To risk his Master’s plan? To risk the destruction of the Jedi, the return of the Sith? To ruin all that he has trained for, dedicated his life to, suffered for?

…And then, there is you. And what could happen to you – no, what would. Not much makes him feel unwell anymore. His relationship with torture and suffering is twisted, his tolerance to pain unnaturally high. But when he thinks of what he would have to do to preserve his secret, to protect his order and his greater purpose if you came to truly understand it all – it turns his stomach. He cannot fathom it, but – he must.

He does not want to have to kill you.

He does not want to lose you at all. But the more time he spends with you, the more comfortable he feels around you – the higher the risk of that happening. Especially now that the Jedi are connected to you and your family. As much as he fears his Master’s interference, he is almost certain that the Force has crossed his path with yours for a reason, and it involves the Jedi. Their intrusion in your life, the suffering that they have inflicted upon you – it makes him hate them even more, and he did not know such a thing was possible.

So, he does not wish to divulge his secrets. He will not, though your pain is not something he enjoys prolonging. If only he could express this in a way that made sense, that did not leave you more wounded, more broken under the weight of confusion.

He tries his best.

“I do not wish to tell you, because it is unsafe for you to know. That may sound unbelievable, and I am sorry. What I say next may be incredibly frustrating. But I am trying to protect you from something much…larger than the both of us. I am being honest.”

You nod, though of course, you do not understand. “Protecting me. By leaving me alone in the dark,” you whisper.

“No,” he disagrees, and squeezes you tighter, pulling your body back closer to his. “Not alone.”

Then he is running his lips down the column of your neck, planting soft kisses across your skin as his hands start to sink lower, pulling the bottom of your shift upwards.

You do not want to address how what he said has made you feel. It is all too much, once again too perplexing, too painful. Will anything concerning him ever make sense? Will it ever truly be easy? How does every second spent with him feel so effortless, yet so impossible at once? Does it matter? Does anything else matter, in this moment?

The beauty of being in his arms is too intoxicating, too distracting. It heals you, his embrace soon washes away all of your worries, his kisses and his soothing warmth drowning out all of the bewilderment. He silences the chaotic screams of your ignorance, tames the violence of your clashing emotions. He cures so much by doing so little.

So you give in, you submit to his touch, relishing in the comforting joy of his hands and the familiar desire that drenches you between your thighs. You soon feel the hardness of his erection beneath you, and then it is all that you want, all that you can fathom. You want him inside of you, you want to feel him, connect with him, consume him, become him. All of him, all that you know, and all that you do not.

He growls and claws at your bare flesh, muttering your name into the skin of your throat as you grab at and push down the material of his pants.

The next few moments are rich with electric lust, sharp and desperate. Your tongues and teeth clash, your moans bleed into each other, your hands are rabid and your bodies blazing. You arrange yourself on top of him as quickly as possible, as if you have no time to waste, as though if you do not take him in this very instant, you will lose him forever. Your kisses are manic, the sultry longing of your slick cunt dripping on to him, calling to him, welcoming him – Stars, there is no time to remove any more of your clothing, you both need each other now.

He groans, using a hand to position his cock at your entrance. You roll your hips down, locking your arms around his neck – and then he pushes up and into you, easily sliding inside. You work swiftly at encouraging his length in and out of you. He supports your body, snapping his own hips up hard, and you do not stop kissing each other. His hands are gripping on to the bare flesh of your legs roughly, his teeth biting your lips, your neck, your jaw.

“Maul,” you whimper, as he quickly drums his hardness deep inside of you. Your eyes flutter closed. “That is so good, ah, yes – right there, oh –”

He groans at your evident pleasure, the praise further encouraging his momentum. He grabs your face and brings your eyes to his own. “Look at me,” he says, “please.”

You do as he asks, opening your eyes to the sight of his; intense, golden, glossy.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, so quietly that you could easily miss it if you did not actively listen. His surprising, sweet words make your breath hitch. His tone is hushed and husky, voice thick and velvety between his groans of delight.

“So bright…so real. Oh, you are everything. Everything.”

You do not know what to say. Warmth floods your chest, and tears prick at your eyes. You can only whimper, unable to form a response. His soft words are such a sharp contrast to his hard, controlling rhythm as he penetrates you again and again and again. So you kiss him, and you pour all of your gratitude heartily into his lips.

“You…” he says into your mouth, though he soon cannot seem to speak much else.

You press your forehead against his, fluttering your eyes closed as he uses one arm to hold your waist still, thrusting up into you hard, and deep. He fucks you with as little space between you as possible, unyielding, unable to let you go.

He growls, his head falling into the crook of your neck. Then he plants messy, wet kisses all over you, his teeth teasing the marks he has littered across your skin with a dreamy, scraping sting. He mutters, and you think that he is moaning, but then you realise he is speaking again – though you cannot make out what he is saying at first. But then you recognise the word that he repeats, and you are thrown wildly into your climax, a poignant and ethereal rush of pleasure that leaves your vision bleary, your thoughts dizzy, your body so wet and hot.

“Mine,” he whispers into your flesh, over and over. “You are mine.”

“Yes,” you agree, the majestic rush of your orgasm laces your voice, and it is hard to speak, the words feel dense and sweet like syrup. He bites gently at your throat, then brings his lips to your ear.

“Tell me, wicked girl,” he says softly.

“Yes,” you say.

“Tell me again.”

“Yes,” you reaffirm, the tight heat in your middle builds again rapidly, then snapping and uncoiling, teetering so close, threatening to burst and engulf you once again so fast.

“Say it.”

“I am yours,” you reply instantaneously: sincere, raw, unadorned – as though the words fall directly from your soul.

He groans as he pulls you tighter, his movements erratic, his own peak imminent. He kisses you softly as you whisper into his lips.

“Yours, Maul.”

“Mine…” and then he says, “And I…I am – ”

“Mine,” you whisper.

“Yours,” he agrees.

And then he finishes, his climax dramatic, thundering – his voice and his groans are fractured with overpowering pleasure, and to hear him in this way is so euphoric that it triggers your own enchanting, second frenzy.

You both hold on to one another tightly, hearts racing, breathing wild. You settle on the floor of his starship wordlessly, neither one of you wanting to end the moment. You kiss him, caress his skin, watch the rise and fall of his chest. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, using his fingers to trace every part of your body, and his arms never once slacken their hold on you.

You do not move from each-others embrace, you stay together as you both succumb to sleep – and you do not dream, because you feel as though you are already in one.

You wake up disoriented – your back sore, your shoulders tight. You soon realise where you are, and pull yourself up slowly as to not disturb your still sleeping lover, and stumble out of the cockpit and over to the refresher to relieve yourself. When you return, a little bit more awake, you look over at Maul as he rests.

You feel a soft tug at your heart. Maker, he looks so tranquil, unassuming, harmless. His face is relaxed, those striking tattoos suddenly seem so soft and amiable, where they were once intimidating and harsh. You feel like you know him so well, yet also so little. There is so much about him that you want to discover, and so much that you feel you already understand.

He is always surprising you, flaming the fire of your affection for him with absolutely no effort, without even knowing that he is doing so. You sigh softly – Stars, he really looks so wonderful. Lazily splayed across the ground of his starship without a care in the world…Maker, this seems so unlike him, but also – resting actually suits him. Though you are tired, you cannot stop yourself when you make your way back over to your sketchpad.

It would be wasteful to not take the opportunity to draw him like this. Another side to him, another part of him to hold on to.

As you once again commit his likeness to paper, you find that you are as compelled by his physical appearance as ever. But this time, the fondness with which you draw him makes you feel entirely overcome. The feeling is sweet, deep, endless. But you do not want to welcome the emotions just yet, you have way too much to consider beyond this – so you are quick with your work. You are soon bleary eyed and aching to rejoin him on the ground.

When you are done, you softly crawl over to him, pulling his arms around you from behind. He sighs and further moves you into him, placing a soft kiss on the back of your head. You try to sleep, but you find that all of the problems and worries you have shoved aside are waking up. They creep into your psyche all at once, each so desperate to be addressed first.

He senses your troubles and hushes you, but you cannot silence the chaos now that it has begun.

“Tell me what happened with my Father, Maul. When you went to see him.”

He does not hesitate in responding, and for once, does not speak in riddles.

“I approached the surgery as a patient. Though it was late, as an off-worlder, he saw me swiftly. I encouraged him to talk about his family, his wife. Then I looked in his mind, and delved deeper to discover what I wanted to know. And took it.”

“Did it hurt him? Is he okay?”

“He does not remember I was ever there.”

“How? What am I missing, Maul? Why does he not want me to know what happened to my Mother? Why do you not want me to talk about what you can do?”

He sighs and shifts. “I cannot…this is very sensitive. Please trust me.”

A pause. “I do trust you.”

He continues. “He does not know I was there. So you have two choices. You can pretend that nothing has happened, and go back to the way your life has always been. Pretend everything is normal.”

“Or?”

“Or you can take the opportunity to confront him.”

“Confront him?”

“About what happened, why he treats you the way he does. Change things.”

“Why will you not just tell me everything? You are holding something back.”

“Because I honestly do not know.”

It is a half lie. He does not know why your Father hides so much from you. But he does know why the Jedi were here. And he could tell you about the Jedi, why they took your cousin. He could explain to you about the Force. But it feels much too dangerous, it brings you one step closer to discovering who he is, and it pains him too much to risk such a thing.

However – encouraging you to seek out the truth yourself is easier for him to stomach. It is like a loophole. And it is weak, it is self-indulgent, and it is cowardly, because the consequences could still be the same as if he told you himself. But he justifies it in this way: if you do this yourself, then it is of your own doing, your own choice. Your own will. Even though he has put you in this position, lead you down this path, even though he knows that you will pursue the information no matter what, because it is in your nature: at least the blame is no longer entirely on him if something terrible comes to pass. At least you will be in it together.

Another part of him wants to terrify you out of it. Part of him wants to hurt you, traumatise you, to make you despise him, to make you want to hide away from him, from anyone, forever. To scar you so badly that you never utter another word. Because at least then, you would live. It would be a mercy.

But he is too selfish to do such a thing.

“There is danger in seeking out the truth,” he says softly. “I must warn you – there will be consequences to your understanding of such things. Dire ones. You could stop now. Keep to yourself. Remain hidden, remain safely out of it all.”

You sigh, a headache creeping its way to the front of your skull.

“That is frightening,” you say. “Serious.”

“Yes,” he hesitates. “It is. You must know that. And you should understand that I may have condemned you. The moment that I met you, that I pursued this. Us. I may have condemned you to a terrible fate either way. But you can stop now, you do not have to –”

“Hush,” you whisper, your stomach dropping at his words. “No, we are fine. We are okay.” He suddenly feels it, the brutal truth of what he has done. There is no way that you can come out this unharmed. It is impossible. He stirs, his voice thick with passive fury and heartbreak.

“You do not know it. But I have damned you. It is all broken.”

“Shhh,” you roll over to face him and peck at his lips. His eyes are squeezed closed, his brow furrowed in distress. You are alarmed and unsure of what he means, jarred by his sudden emotional response – but yet, you are even more desperate to ease his upset.

“You do not understand,” he says again. “You are damned.”

“Is there anything we can do?” you ask, “is there any way that we can change that?” you caress his face with your fingers, running them over his tattoos fondly.

“No. No, I do not believe so.”

You pause and exhale slowly. “Then Maul, I am damned.”

There is nothing more to be said. Neither of you sleep, but you stay on the floor in silence until the sunrise.

Then you must decide what to do.

{previous chapter} / {next chapter} / {fic masterlist}

{read chapter on ao3} / {read entire fic on ao3}

taglist/mutuals (please message me if you would like to be added/removed): @elledjarin @gggoldfinch @corona-one @kimageddon @seriowan @gran-maul-seizure @lifeless-being @downinthewater @gaysubscription @sp00kworm

#darth maul #darth maul fic #darth maul x reader #darth maul smut #darth maul fanfic #maul fic #maul fanfic #maul x reader #darth maul x you #maul x you #star wars smut #eloquentmoon #eloquent moon #by the light of the second moon #bythelightofthesecondmoon #my fic #lemon #my writing #chapter ten

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solohux · 3 years ago

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Hi I love your fics so much you can tell me I'm a fan of yours. I can't even count how many times I read screaming colour it's so good I can't stop it

Can you rec me angst fic like that ❤️

I really appreciate your effort 💕

Thank you so much for your kind words, darling! I'm so glad that you love that fic so much!! It's the highest of compliments that someone goes back and re-reads your fic!

Here are some more angsty fics for you to enjoy:

- Flicker in the Void by MargaretKire Hux watched in silence as the light swept over his body. The power stunned him, as did the bright jet of flame as it licked its color into his eyes. This was not the calm brightness of last night in the presence of Kylo Ren. This was a different sort of light altogether, massive and deadly. It overwhelmed him. For a moment Hux felt an aching regret deep within himself, the sob of someone he used to be, bubbling up from the cold.

- lover of the devil by selenedaydreams “I worry about you.”

His fingers tighten around the blanket until his knuckles turn bone white. “That’s not your job.”

“Was it my job to find you almost dead with snow clinging to your wounds?”

- Hunger of the Pine by Darthhux After the destruction of the Starkiller base, Kylo Ren retreats to the planet Felucia to recover and finish his training with Supreme Leader Snoke. But with his shocking new curiosity for General Hux growing rapidly, he finds himself dangerously distracted. Determined to fulfill his destiny, Ren enlists the help of the famed Knights of Ren, a dangerous league of force users with a thirst for blood. Although, memories previously thought forgotten begin to resurface, causing Kylo to rethink everything he once thought to be true.

- A cup of tea for the general by Koprix & SeiG Hux is sick. It all starts with Kylo Ren coming to bother him and ending up trying to make a cup of tea for the general. And it goes straight to hell from there.

-Lost to the Night by Kittens After being visited by Anakin's ghost and shown a vision of the future, Kylo realizes that the only way he can save Hux's life is to destroy the First Order. Hux might hate him for it, but Kylo would rather have him alive and angry than dead. At least, that's what he thinks. What he's not prepared for is the way Hux takes his revenge.

- Dawn Is Coming, Open Your Eyes by loserchildhotpants General Hux makes several mistakes; his first, existing on the same plane of reality as Kylo Ren. His second; saving Kylo Ren from certain death. His third; striking a deal with the beauty-marked, raven-haired devil himself.

- Regretful Message by Sweets_Thief Hiding from the Resistance should be easy when they already believe they've killed you. But when you're General Armitage Hux and you can't seem to recall becoming Emperor to the entire Galaxy, it becomes a little more difficult.

- Before I Wake by Anorlost During a mission gone wrong Kylo Ren and General Hux are captured by bounty hunters and sold to a vengeful Hutt. Forging an uneasy alliance with his General, Kylo figures it's best he works with Hux if he wants to escape... and to keep Hux from killing him should the opportunity present itself.

This one is a Medieval/Fantasy AU but it's brilliant:

- A Song of Crows by Ficlet-Machine (Wordsmith) Warchief Hux has just buried his trusted Crow, and, if the Gods still favour him, a new one will find their way to his lands. Hux may be young, but he is a good leader for his people. He is ready for the commitment, the responsibility, the changes that come with a new child of the Gods at his command. The clan needs it, needs it spiritual leader if they are ever to claim ownership of all the lands from here to the Core Kingdoms. Raised a warrior, he is more than ready to paint the world red in honor of his gods. He may, however, not be entirely ready for what he will feel the first time he meets the haunted and tormented eyes of the young Crow called Kylo Ren.

#kylux #fic rec

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theyungihven · 3 years ago

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We were meant to be ♡ mingi

pairing: mingi x reader

genre : college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, fantasy, multiverse

synopsis: heartbroken in the past life when his soulmate dies, a devastated mingi prays for them to be reunited in their next life, and that's what leads to the creation of this tale of love between two fated souls.

this fic is collab for the event ' a little like love' by @woahhwa

series masterlist | main masterlist

<-- prev | next -->

chapter 1 of chapter ?

Before retiring to your bed, you decide to finally give in to the requests of your curious mind. Your mind has been irking you up to read your father’s journal since you found it in the attic last week. Opening the book after placing it on your lap as you sit on the bed, you flip the yellow pages of the diary until you stumble on some important information. The page is titled ‘the tale of the destined ones’. It sounded as if your dad tried to write fan fiction back in his days. Ignoring the cringy joke your mind made, you try to focus on the words written below.

Fate, they say, leaves no soul untied with another. The intertwined souls swear on the day of their creation to guard and love each other for a lifetime or many.

After the birth of every soul, they are paired with a mate to serve them for eternity, Upon meeting for the first time, they imprint on each other, strengthening the bond. When the souls are unable to have a happy ending or spend less time with each other in one life, they are given another chance to undo the beginning and make things perfect; therefore setting things straight and spending time with the love of their lives.

With the blooming of cherry blossoms, the cycle of reincarnation of lost souls starts. These lose souls are born with an imprinted cherry blossom on their wrists. Each with a unique symbol beside the flower, which is only similar with their mate's.

The beauty of the cherry blossoms tattooed on the wrists is intriguing to the point, one's mate can get lost looking at it. And that, my dear friend, is the first hint to find one's mate. The second one, is when the both souls get lost looking in each other's eyes, finding their home in the pupils which hold galaxies.

After the first imprint, both of the souls start having flashbacks of their past lives. Since the souls are reborn with the same body, it's easier to figure out their soulmate.

Here conclusions are to made fast enough to not lose the other and to not get lost in one's trance. Universe helps the lost one's by giving hints, coincidentally guiding to the same places. So they can finally have a happy ending, because everyone deserves one.

You tear off your eyes from your father’s journal and slip under the sheets of your cosy bed. No wonder your dad is a celebrated author, and reading this story about the cherry blossom you have engraved on your wrist made you smile to yourself. He had always been considerate of your wishes and dearly loved you with all of his heart.

The moonlight shone through the clouds, glimmering on the faces of the humans seated in the boat in the middle of the lake. The dream is very realistic, almost fooling you into thinking it's your reality, but upon checking your reflection in the lake, you fail to see your face. You are seated with a taller boy who has a great physique and a beautiful smile spread across his plump lips.

As you observe the surrounding scenery, you say, “Mingi, this is the most beautiful gift I've ever got.”. You find yourself holding the boy's hand. His name is utterly familiar to your ears and the boy’s smile reminds you of a dear friend you made when you were a mere child who can barely brush her hair without getting the brush stuck in them.

“And you are the most beautiful gift I've got.” The boy named Mingi, replies as his eyes glimmer with the reflection of the sky above you and then pulls you into a hug. You both stay in each other's embrace for quite a long time until Mingi breaks off from the hug and grabs his guitar. “Here is a song dedicated to you, my princess.” He says in his rough tone and starts to sing a song which is very familiar to your mind.

#mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez mingi #ateez au #ateez fanfic #song mingi #ateez #ateez x reader #mingi scenarios #song mingi fluff #a little like love

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rcksmith · 4 years ago

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Invigorating — Five Hargreeves

Request : “Hii so i was thinking about some fic/headcanons where five discover that his powers are stronger when he is with reader.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope I got close to what you wanted. I thought it was better to do it in fic, but it was just out of personal preference, I hope you like it, I found it very adorable to write. Love u❤️

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff.

— — — — —

The superhero life was a mess. Behind all the glamor of HQ’s and the romanticization of the media, there were only people trying to cope with their own lives when everything that was expected of them was nothing short of extraordinary. All the Hargreeves brothers knew this. And they carried the weight of the whole world on their backs. It was like trying to breathe with a rock pressed against your chest, purging all hope of relief.

They would never have a normal life, with normal parents or friends. They would always be chained to that sentence that came with their powers. Sometimes, late at night, some of the Hargreeves wondered how much smoother life would have been had they not been born extraordinary.

Five stopped imagining fantasies that would never come true from an early age. He viewed situations with objectivity, coolness and calculus. But life at the Hargreeves mansion was not easy and the only way for him to deal with the traumas and pressures was to push them under the rug. Then Five started to scoff when the brothers talked about having a normal life.

Who did they want to think about it? They would always be circus attractions. They would never have a normal life. So it was better to get over it, because you can't miss what you never had, and it was stupid want to live a false normal life. They would never be normal, it was the curse of the Hargreeves, and Five accepted that.

But you revoked all of his sentences. You were absolutely normal. Typical life, family, friends and routine. And when you came into the life of the Hargreeves and brought the breath of relief that everyone needed, Five felt that rock be lifted from his chest whenever you were close.

And then he knew normalcy. Five tasted the sweet taste that was enjoying a ray of sunshine, a summer breeze, a sunset, all the normal details that you inserted into his life and that now ... now he had something to miss.

During the months, your presence, for Five, was a sigh of relief amid all the claustrophobic, and he felt a certain envy when he saw how Klaus had a way with dealing with people. How he and Alisson always knew what to say, how to act, and how to captivate you to the point where you want to spend more time with them.

It was hell for Five. because you presence calmed all his nerves, your energy soothed the restless air and removed the rock that prevented him from breathing. Five realized how much he liked fresh air. And he didn't know how to make you want to be close to him too. He felt at peace when you were close. And it was an overwhelming discovery.

“Here it is.” You said, handing Five a mug of coffee, without him even asking.

That was one more thing that made you wonderful in his eyes. You two never had a long conversation, but you knew enough, and whenever you were in the kitchen, helping the Hargreeves for breakfast, you knew exactly what to give him.

Okay, to be fair, you knew exactly what to deliver to everyone. For Klaus, passion fruit juice and hangover aspirin, big and fat pancakes for Luther and Diego, Waffles for girls and strong black coffee for him. It wasn't like Five thought you were treating him in a special way.

But... whenever you gave him coffee and your midday sun smile, that was the best part of the day. And he wished, deep down in his soul, that it was special.

He nodded his head. And he drank the coffee knowing that the taste would be nothing short of excellent. Five concluded that you had a habit of turning everything you touched into gold.

“Are you going to see training today to wait for us?” Alisson asked you.

It was Friday, and Alisson, Klaus, Vayna and you had agreed to go shopping after them training. It was not new you and them to go out together, but it was new for you to watch their training. It was nothing formal, just routine, so it was easier to wait for them finishe than you to leave and return.

“If it's okay with you guys.”

The brothers agreed and Five thought it best not to show any reaction. He told himself it was because it didn't matter whether you saw a workout or not, but, deep in his soul, Five knew it was for fear that if you focused your attention on him, you would end up listening to him fast heartbeat.

But if he knew that everything would start in that training, he would have thought twice about going.

You were sitting on one of the mats in the garden, sometimes reading something on your phone while the brothers practiced the training. It should have been routine for them, as usual, but they all had difficult missions last night and felt exhausted to do their best.

Five came to know his own limits, he knew when his body was entering the last reserves and that it would no longer hold its powers. It was like a big battery that he needed to recharge to keep working. He felt the sting in his muscles, a warning that Five came to understand that signaled that his powers were going to fail.

Five was already orchestrating strategies to dodge Diego's knives when, already knowing that it wouldn't work, he tried to teleport. But the blue flash swallowed him up and when he took him behind his brother, and Five felt his muscles revitalized, the shock left him stunned.

It had never happened. But it hasn't happened again in weeks too.

Five spent days trying to understand how his powers took a turn and then retracted the same stake when he trained again. The bite always hit him in the muscles and then his powers left him in the hand. Five could no longer find the invigorating sensation that followed the hooks.

The second time his powers got stronger was when Luther was pissing him off. They had arrived from an exhausting and difficult mission, and that time you asked them to come to your apartment for dinner. Because you knew that the negativity of the mansion would not do well for a situation that had already brought out the best in the Hargreeves. Always the good person. You knew how to alleviate a situation with the smallest of gestures, and it made you look wonderful again in the eyes of Five.

After dinner, Luther was teasing Five, throwing cushions at him across the room, while everyone talked and rested in the living room. You made them feel like it was just a normal end of day. That they were just tired after work, traffic, and not because they were damn superheroes who fought a nuclear leak and terrorists. It seemed to Five that everything was easy and charming with you.

Then, when Luther threw another pillow at him, and Five felt the sting in his muscles, but tried to teleport to strike back anyway, the invigorating air ran through his muscles and the blue flash swallowed him.

Once again, Five was surprised. And suddenly, he forgot why he teleported.

His mind hummed like a propeller, trying to understand what the hell was going on. And that's when his eyes were drawn to you, like magnets.

The world was seemed to run out of breath, the atmosphere slowed and he followed every move you made until your eyes met his. It was instantaneous. A hot desert wind swept Five from head to toe, and brought the hot, overwhelming thought “It's her.” You were doing it. You were the one who left him invigorated. You removed the rock from his chest and he could breathe. His powers were reacting to you, and the realization it that stunned Five.

You smiled for him and went back to talking to Vayna, oblivious to the overwhelming discoveries that flooded Five.

The third time your presence showed that his theory was right was when you two were alone. It was Tuesday night. You were making cocktails with Klaus and laughing when he gave his verdict:

"I am happy that you are beautiful and intelligent enough to know that you must think about several other professions, because you would definitely make a terrible bartender." Klaus put aside a drink you made after making a face.

You laughed, throwing an olive at him.

“Why beauty would help me?”

“Prostitution, perhaps.”

“KLAUS!” You looked at him with amused indignation and you two laughed out loud.

“I'm going to get something good. Don't get out of here.” He stood up, taking his coat.

“Be careful!”

“I always do, baby.” He shouted at the door, leaving.

You laughed at nothing, cleaning up the mess you had made on the counter, throwing the used lemons in the trash.

That was when Five appeared. The mission mask on his face, the uniform slightly scorched.

“Hey.” You smiled as soon as you saw him, your heart beating faster. “All right?” You pointed to his clothes.

“Fire” Five say, sitting on the stools at the counter you were on and opening the bottle of vodka.

You gave him a glass, and Five thanked him silently while filling a shot and turning it all over at once. You couldn't get your attention off him. His hair was black as the background of the galaxy, his lips were red with drink, the mask adorned his eyes. God, he was beautiful and you felt that you could no longer reason consistently.

This always happened when Five was involved. He is a god of Olympus who had the power to destabilize you with just one look. Now, however, the mask delivered that he could swing you just in the presence.

In fact... that mask just made everything more mysterious and attractive. You felt something humming inside you, like a harp string that connects your heart to your belly.

“What?” Five's voice brought you out of the trance, revealing that you were looking at him for too long.

“N-nothing” You tried not to blush.

You turning around to put away the other bottles that Klaus and you had removed. But the floor was damp from the melted ice cubes you both dropped. And you was so stunned that you slipped.

As soon as the world spun and the wind hit your face, you were prepared to fall to the ground when a blue flash protected you and firm arms held you.

The breath drained, the callus increased, and Five was absolutely sure that it was you who made him stronger. You were the one who reinvigorated his powers because when he came out of that fire, the sting in his muscles hit him hard, and he knew he hadn't been able to use his powers anymore.

But when you looked up at him, and Five felt your warm skin on his hands, he knew he couldn't stay away from you anymore. He thought about doing something, his body was screaming for you, but he didn't have a chance. Your fingers touched the corner of his mask, gently contouring the left edge.

“You're Gorgeous...” Your whispered was a breath, but Five could hear.

Then he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours, because he felt he couldn't live any longer if he didn't. And when you kissed him back, his whole battery was recharged and that rock that was choking him was destroyed in millions of pieces.

As soon as you were apart enough to breathe, your fingers removed his mask and curled your fingers in his black hair. And this time, it was you who brought your lips together in the most passionate kiss.

#five fanfiction #five hargreeves #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x y/n #five x you #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves imagine #number five fanfic #number 5 imagine #number 5 x you #number 5 x reader #number five x you #number five x y/n #Five Hargreeves x y/n #Tua fanfic #tua five

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paperstarwriters · 4 years ago

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Transformers Masterlist

TFP fantasy AU (Magic mechs)

[Optimus x reader- platonic] You're a magic scholar in a fantasy world, and through your magical studies, you've finally made it to Cybertron.

Forest Portrait

[Optimus x reader- Platonic/Romantic; shameless fluff] You sit and read in the forest with Optimus Prime, taking a well deserved break. Surrounded by foliage and animals, Optimus looks strangely at home.

Solidarity

[Optimus x reader- Platonic/Romantic; kinda angst?] You and Optimus were very much alike in a most unfortunate way. It was funny in a sense, but also very sad.

My spark for you

[Optimus x Ratchet- Platonic/Romantic; angst, Multiverse Martyr AU] Ratchet has been with Optimus though thick and thin, from every start to every end. Even in death he follows his old friend.

Untimely Thirst

[Optimus x Megatron- Romantic & kinda suggestive?; Monster AU] Trapped in a collapsed energon mine with Megatron, Optimus is struck with the need to drink energon. With a wagging tail, Megatron tries to convince Optimus to drink from his lines, and Optimus attempts to hold out until they are saved. Note: attempts.

Starry Reflection

[Starscream x Reader- Platonic/Romantic; fluff] On Cybertron you sometimes have to fly really high into the sky to see the stars. Here on earth he needs only to look at you to see a galaxy.

The Sun is a Star

[Starscream x Reader- Platonic/Romantic; fluff, hurt/comfort] Starscream was like the sun. No one wanted to look at him unless he was rising or falling. He was alone in the sky. But most importantly, He was warm.

Sleeping Beauty

[Optimus x reader - romantic/platonic; Organic Fantasy AU] "In the center of a cursed forest, lies a corpse refusing to rot."

Sleeping beauty Drabble / Part two

[Optimus x reader - romantic/platonic; Organic Fantasy AU] A walking corpse bringing flowers wherever they go.

“Dance With Me”

[Megatron x reader- romantic/platonic] Megatron makes an absurd request, as if his presence in your cell aboard the Nemesis isn't already absurd enough. You do not grace him with a reply to his request, but as he holds you in his arms you find yourself thinking of every little thing except fighting back against him.

In Faerie Forests

[Orion pax x reader- romantic/platonic, Fantasy AU] You attend one of the annual celebrations held by the fae, with the added group of Cybertronian guests. You don't think fondly of them, until one idiot tries to give you their name.

Catboi Optimus

[Meme script; Not a reader insert or ship fic, but it's funny] Nya?

Reflections

[Optimus short story; Not a reader insert. Inspired by pic.] Watching the reflection of a city by the edge of water, Optimus thinks about how the lights remind him of home.

Mercury?

[Transformers crack fic.] The Autobots learn about a particular human song, that everyone seems to know

Prime and Mononoke

[Optimus x reader drabble/imagine, Transformers & princess mononoke crossover.] An idea of what a crossover between Transformers and Princess Mononoke could be like.

A Tiny Problem

[Optimus x Reader – Romantic/platonic; Fluff, Chibi transformers] there's a tiny problem at base that renders Optimus from picking you up. After trekking your way to base, you discover just how "tiny" this problem really is.

Keep me warm please

[Optimus x Reader – short drabble, fluffy] I was just in a bit of a bad mood so I wrote something kinda self indulgent and soft. Something to keep me warm…

Remember the Fields

[Optimus x reader – short drabble; romantic/platonic] On Cybertron Optimus recalls his time with you on earth, amidst the fields, and he eagerly waits to return to you.

Every string, Back to you

[Optimus x reader – drabble, fluff; romantic/platonic] Optimus considers what it'd mean for him to cut all ties to be with you.

To the Soft and the Cold

[Optimus x reader – Fluff; Romantic/platonic] Some people call Optimus soft, others tend to call you cold. One doesn't beget the other, and Optimus wants you to know that.

to Hear, to Feel, to Know

[Optimus x Reader – Fluff; Romantic/platonic] Optimus is a bot who's exceptionally good at listening. What he likes listening to most of all though, is you.

Cryptic

[Optimus x Reader – (1st) mild horror (2nd) fluff; (both) romantic/platonic] Two drabbles in one post, both inspired off of one picture (included in post). First: You run from Optimus, he vehemently chases you Second: It's a chance to keep a picture of him, silly as it is, it's something you can get away with, and keep his identity private.

Cryptic Pt 2

[Stalker/obsessive Optimus x Reader - Romantic] Inspired off of a picture (Included in post) Optimus has been following you for a while. You only notice small signs of him at first, but when he realizes you've seen him, well... he just wants to get to know you, really.

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ramp-it-up · 4 years ago

Text

Everyday

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader, Rafael Casal (as Miles Turner) x Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18 + , RPF. CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE IF YOU READ BELOW THE CUT. Cursing, drinking, allusion to smoking weed, fantasy, truth or dare, role play, SMUT, Graphic Depictions of Sex, oral sex (M/F receiving), a lil bit of bondage, established relationship, fantasy play.

A/N: I have no idea what is for trade in prison; sex packets are a made up joke. And I’m really into 90’s rap this week. Anywho, this fic is in response to the following request:

Anonymous asked:

Rafa!!!!! Maybe a fluffy smut where he’s role playing Miles for you? 👀

-------

“Ok, Dare.”

You steeled yourself from the query from Daveed.

“Which fictional character, real or animated, would you like to bone?”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“Real or ANIMATED????”

You were cracking up laughing and buzzed, feeling good surrounded by your crew of friends who were family.

“Ok, I will answer both.”

Rafa cleared his throat and settled back on the couch beside you.

You sat up straight and he watched the curve of your breasts underneath the Oaklandish tee you stole from him that morning.

“Rafael is getting swole! Don’t worry Rafa. She will still come home to your everyday ass.”

“Shut up, Ant. You always got something to say.” You rolled your eyes. “Everyday with Rafa is amazing.”

You leaned over and kissed Rafa’s lips, which were in a slight frown. He didn’t like that word, ‘everyday.’

“You good?” You whispered so only you two could hear.

He smiled at you, “No doubt. Answer the man’s question!” Rafa said a little louder, bravado on fleek.

“ANYWAYYY.” You shook your head at him as you straightened up. “Max could get it.”

“Max who?” Jasmine was confused. Then she realized, then leaned over Ant and Rafa to give you a high five.

“Max Who???” Daveed was curious.

“Goofy’s son. Max.”

Everyone erupted in laughter again. Daveed got up and took the bottle out of your hand.

“Enough of this.”

You battled him, jumping up and swatting around D’s head. You won your drink back and sat down.

“As far as ‘real’ fictional characters…” You took a drink. And smiled. All eyes were on you.

“Miles Turner could rearrange my guts.”

Anthony groaned. Rafa sat up straight. You took another drink .

“For Real. Ruffnecks kinda do it for me.”

“Gotta who? Gotta have a what?” Jazzy started rapping. You replied.

“Gotta what? Yo, gotta get a ruffneck.”

You two started dancing, rapping and singing with your drinks in your hands.

Gotta what? Yo, gotta get a ruffneck

I need it and I want it so I gotta get a ruffneck!

Rafael pulled you down to sit on his lap and Jasmine kept dancing, right in front of Anthony.

Anthony sucked his teeth, but was smiling at Jazzy’s ass.

“That’s cheating. I mean. That’s just Rafa. I mean, he bones you on the regular.”

Ant smacked Jasmine on the bottom and took a drink before she plopped down next to him and he put his arm around her.

“You know it!” Rafa and Anthony toasted.

“But I ain’t Miles.”

Rafa took another sip of his Abasolo on the rocks.

“And it’s just a fantasy. Right baby.”

Rafael rubbed your back giving you a look that made you tremble. Rafa felt your warmth on his lap. He grinned into his drink.

“Trueeee!”

You smiled, trying to keep it light and calm the fuck down. Everyone always made fun of you two smashing in people’s bathrooms.

“You aren’t Miles. I didn’t know you when you were younger....”

You locked eyes with Rafael, and the green fire there did something to you.

“I think Rafa is Miles’s wasted potential.”

“Wow. That’s deep,” said Ant from a cloud of smoke.

You and Rafa were locked in an eye embrace as well as a physical one. When he arched his eyebrow, you had to look away, because you couldn’t take it.

“Y’all need to use my bathroom?” More laughter.

You and Rafa both flipped Daveed off.

“Nah, Diggs.” Rafa stood up with you in his arms. “We’ll use our own. We out.”

Your man carried you willingly out of the door.

-----

About two weeks later, you came home with some groceries, you were looking forward to a night in with Rafa.

You’d both been busy and tired lately, only available for maintenance sex.

Rafa was running around creating all of his creative shit, and you worked in the writers room of a popular series. Life was hectic.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, hands together on top.

He was wearing blue scrubs over a white Henley and had his face turned to the side, staring out the window. You noticed that his hair was different.

“Hey, babe. Did you get a haircut? What’s wrong?”

He turned his face toward you and that’s when you noticed two more things. Rafael’s eye was black, and there was a tattoo on his neck.

THAT California tattoo.

You were very concerned and a little confused. Concern came first in your mind.

“What happened to your eye?” He gave you a strange look, then he spoke.

“A mutha fucka sneaked me in the yard, that’s what happened!”

You stood still and had to register what was happening.

Rafa was wearing a grill, and his voice was different, in a lower register and with a long drawn out, almost southern drawl.

But it wasn’t southern. It was all Bay.

He stood up and walked toward you, and you noticed that his scrubs had “Prisoner” written in yellow letters down the right leg.

You suddenly realized what was going on.

Oh, Shit.

“Baby. You’re a sight for sore eyes. It’s been a minute.”

You’d left Rafael in bed this morning. But it seemed that you came home to Miles.

“Hey,” was all you could say.

Rafael/Miles gestured for you to come over to the table. It was then you saw that he was handcuffed.

A strange feeling came over to you. He stood up, and you saw that his legs were shackled. You went close to him and looked at his eye closely.

“Rafa?”

His face was fine, up close, you could tell it was makeup.

“You been to see Galaxy today?”

You were peering at his neck and the Bay/California tattoo there.

He screwed up his face.

“Who tha fuck is Rafa? And what the hell you talking ‘bout space for?”

He peered into your eyes, then looked around furtively.

“Babe. Are you high?”

The drawl was a whisper now.

“These muthafuckas’ll kick you out if they think you got drugs on you.”

You smiled at him, pecked him on the lips and replied.

“No worries. I’m not high.” You sat down at the kitchen table and ‘Miles’ sat across from you.

“As for Rafa? He’s this guy I know. Had a nice… conversation with him the other night.”

You looked into his eyes to see if he would crack. But your man was a pro.

He huffed. “Psshhht. You MUST be high talking to another dude. What kinda name is Rafa anyway. Sounds like some hipster trash.”

He peered at you again, anger radiating off of him.

Damn, he was good.

“Tell me what the fuck you mentioning some other muthafucka to my face while I’m locked up in here! Every day.”

He pounded his bound fists on the table in front of you and made you jump. It also made you wet as fuck.

He gestured with both hands (because they were handcuffed) to the nice kitchen that you loved to cook in, but that you were now seeing through his performance as a prison visitation room.

But you were still shook.

“R, R, Rafael is a beautiful artist. He’s a poet. He’s gentle, and kind. And a wonderful lover.”

Miles glared at you. You stuttered again.

“I-I imagine.”

He gave you a menacing smile and leaned back in the chair, pushing his crotch up in your direction. Your eyes were drawn there.

“So you imagining fucking another muthafucka and decide to come visit me and tell me about it?”

You got into it.

“Well….I miss you Miles. But it gets hard. Not being able to be with you.”

He leaned forward, bearing his teeth.

“Don’t fucking tell me about it. Here I am jacking off with leftover chicken grease from the kitchen at night. Got my dick smelling like a Popeye’s chicken sandwich in this bitch.”

“Ew,” you said, disgusted, then you started giggling at the joke.

Miles pouted and sat back.

“ ‘S not fucking funny!” He looked out the window again.

“I shouldn’t even tell you about the surprise.”

You straightened up. “What is it babe?”

You put your hand on his and he caressed yours with his thumb. He looked at you, excited and mischievous now.

“I got us a conjugal visit.”

Your mouth dropped open, fully into it now.

“But I thought that was just for married couples, Miles…”

“I know, I know.” He leaned forward and looked around again. “But I got me a side hustle.”

He shifted his eyes as he scanned the empty room.

“I make sex packets outta the leftover chicken grease from my job in the kitchen. Make a KILLING in oatmeal cream pies, ramen noodles, cigarettes and other tradeable currency. I made enough to buy us a conjugal visit, girl.”

He leaned back, very satisfied with himself, his hands now on his lap, rubbing his crotch.

Your eyes were drawn there again and you found yourself irrationally wondering how big his dick was. He had you caught up in this fantasy.

“Let’s go to the trailer and I’ll make you forget all about this Raja guy.” Miles winked at you.

“It’s…” You saw the look on his face. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”

He stood up again, and shuffled his way to the bathroom, you at a safe distance behind him.

He entered the bedroom and shuffled to the bed, sitting down on the edge. He gestured you to him and you went and stood before him.

He put his nose in your crotch.

“MMMmmmmm. I missed your smell Baby. It’s been too long. He lifted his hands and put them on the insides of your thighs. He pulled back and looked at you, green eyes staring into brown.

“The guards left the key over there. That is, if you wanna get me out of these.” He nodded toward the

He trailed his hands up to your pelvis, managing to hook one set of fingers into your waistband and still have another at your apex.

He ran his fingers over your jeans right where it counts. This kind of petting felt good and made you want more.

You let him play for a little while, but then pushed him back to sit and watch you.

You peeled down your jeans to reveal a white satin thong. Rafael loved white against your coffee brown skin, but tonight, Miles would benefit. You stood there in your button-down shirt, that was really Rafael’s.

Miles’s hands went to his crotch again as he eagerly watched.

“You seem to be doing pretty well all hemmed up, but let me see.”

You went to the dresser to retrieve the key, and you did, then turned around and put it in your mouth while you slowly unbuttoned the shirt.

Miles leaned back on the bed and opened his legs as far as the shackles would let them go, licking his lips as you disrobed.

You were wearing a white lace bra, your dark nipples and areola straining through the delicate material. You were very excited at the entire scenario.

The fact that Rafa was doing this for you because he remembered what you said on a drunken night weeks ago was the shit.

You dropped to the ground and crawled over to Miles’s feet jutting your ass up in the air as you unlocked the shackles.

You massaged his ankles and trailed your hands up his legs to his crotch, where you rubbed the hardness there.

“It’s been so long that you’ve been locked up, Miles.”

You raised up on your knees, loving the feeling of his eyes sweeping over you.

“I’m gonna give you the world’s best blowjob.”

Miles smiled at you.

“Aw, baby. That’s so cute.”

“I’ll show you cute.”

You were about to give your own performance.

------

Five minutes later, you were gargling his cock, relaxing your throat and taking him as deep as you could, nose nestled at his base, and gently pulling and kneading his balls.

Someone moaned, and you didn’t know if it was Rafa or Miles. He bucked his hips up into your mouth while resting his cuffed hands in your hair.

“As much as I would love to … fuck baby… cum down your throat.. I need that… damn where’d you learn to do that?!... I need that pussy. Unlock the cuffs, baby.”

His cuffed hands were in your hair, alternating between massaging your scalp and pulling your hair the way you loved it.

The way Rafael invented.

You smiled around his cock with the knowledge that what you were doing was making him slip out of character.

You pulled your head upward, mouth open, allowing the saliva to trickle out with his dick.

He looked at you like he couldn’t believe how nasty you were being. He was mesmerized. You looked a mess, eye makeup running, lipstick smudged, spit all over your face.

Your dream man loved it.

“Am I ‘cute’ now?”

“Fuck no. You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

You smiled and quickly reached behind you and unclasped your bra, taking your breasts in your hands and pushed them up around his dick.

“See, if you unlock these cuffs, I’ll handle things the way they need to be handled.”

You just smiled up at him while you manipulated your breasts around him, knowing that he could not control his hips fucking into your cleavage.

“I got it under control.” You stuck your tongue out to tease his tip as it neared your face, lubricating it with your saliva.

“Fuck, baby. I wanna fuck you so bad. It’s been so long…”

This entire scene was just about the hottest thing ever. You were breathless, dripping, and quivering with anticipation. But you didn’t want it to end so soon.

“How long ‘xactly?”

“Shit, 5 months of being here and jacking off to memories of you everyday. I need to see that ass and fuck that pussy, babyyyy. Please.”

Those eyes.

Those words.

The acting.

Miles.

You had to relent.

You reached for the key where you dropped it on the floor and unlocked the cuffs.

“Fucking finally!” Miles rubbed his wrists as he stood up, stripped his shirts off and his pants the rest of the way.

“On the bed, let me see that ass up.”

He smacked it about three times each and then rubbed it as you did as you were told.

Miles trailed his hand from your ass up your spine to your shoulder and then pushed your head down further into the bed.

“That’s a girl.” Your back had that perfect arch.

He got behind you and swiped his hardness up and down your slit, teasing you with the head of his dick.

He grabbed your hand and brought behind your back, and very swiftly the other, and before you knew it, your hands were cuffed behind you, head in the bed and Miles was entering you swiftly.

“Fuuuuck! How does it feel?”

You couldn’t speak. The thrill of Miles’ dick inside you and being cuffed had you ready to cum already.

His stroke game was on point, as if he was fucking you to a brand new rhythm- Allegro.

Strangely, it was different than Rafa had ever been.

That was blowing your mind.

Miles tugged on the metal restraints and the slight pain in your shoulders and wrists, combined with the thrill of this roleplay, made you release, all over him and the bed.

“Shit girl, you really are glad to see me.” That drawl got you ready to peak again.

“Oh fuck yeah, Miles, oh shit, oh shit.” Your pussy was clamping down on him at the thought of Miles Turner having his way with you.

“Shit, I’m cumming with you, hold up.”

Rafa tried to slow down, but you did that thing with your pussy and he couldn’t help it. His hips drove his dick inside you until it pulsed and started to flow, and then he pulled out.

“Turn over baby.”

You leisurely moved to turn over, and he motioned you down to the end of the bed, moving the pillow where he wanted your head.

“I need in between those legs, baby. I need to see you, I need to surround me with you.”

You positioned yourself at the end of the bed, your braids hanging over the edge.

Miles gave you a forehead kiss as he got between your thighs, and pumped himself a couple of times as he aligned with you.

He leaned down and pulled at your nipple with his mouth, moaning when you moaned, moving his eyes appreciatively down your body and keeping his eyes where you were about to join.

The look on his face when he entered you was very hot, and you found your pussy squeezing his cock in appreciation. It seemed magically somehow bigger, and all of your senses were alive as he started moving.

“That’s my beautiful baby. You’re so fucking tight. Don’t push me out, let me have the glorious pussy. Damn girl, this pussy, those thighs, your curves, these tits. What did a man like me do to deserve you. You’re such a fucking sweet princess for me…”

You were astounded. Missionary was far from your favorite position because you seldom came that way, but the way Miles was whispering praise in your ear and the total fantasy was getting you there.

Quickly.

He watched your face and adjusted his pace in response to your cries, and that knowledge made you start to come. When your eyes rolled back in your head, that’s when he knew.

He pulled your hair back and sucked the shit out of your neck as you came, and he released inside you. You wrapped your legs around him and held him as he shivered with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Your lover rolled off of you and you snuggled into his arm. He lay there and held you as you tried to process.

“That was… wow.” You weren’t sure who to address, Rafa or Miles. Irrationally you felt you were in love with both.

He just chuckled at you, and gave you another forehead kiss.

“I’m going to enjoy a shower. Goodbye for a while, baby.”

You grinned. “Bye Miles.”

He pecked you on the lips and you watched him go into the bathroom.

You rolled over on your back and tried to organize your thoughts. How would you write this?

Thoughts of writing this scene chased you into sleep.

---

You woke up to Rafael, grill and tattoos gone, freshly out of the shower and in a towel, gently trying to pull you from sleep.

“C’mon.”

You let him get you up and into the bathroom to a hot bath. You let him tenderly clean you up and then get you out of the tub and dry you off. You were more tired than you thought.

“You hungry?” You walked into the kitchen in a towel behind him.

Rafa had put the groceries up and was holding up takeout menus. He was truly magical. You smiled, nodded and told him what you wanted.

45 minutes later, you were in his softest Oaklandish tee and you were curled up on the couch in the living room together, food containers spead out on the coffee table.

You felt totally in sync with this amazing man.

“I loved tonight.”

He smiled softly back at you.

“Had to give you your fantasy since you help me live mine. Every day.”

He leaned over and kissed you. He looked you intensely in the eyes. Those green pools had you trapped.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Rafael.”

Your fantasy had been Miles, but your reality was Rafael.

And that was fantastic.

Everyday.

-------

Tags:

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