#my magnum opus of soft fucking

[therisingdarkness]

5 Times Ghoul Left the Bar Alone, and One Time He Didn’t

Welp, took me long enough. Battled like two weeks without a reliable internet connection but I can’t be stopped. It’s like 32 pages of smut, so have fun reading and if you’re not supposed to be reading try not to get caught. I’m not the feds. Not your mom. 

Obviously, written for @cloned-eyes and Ghoul, who feels like he’s become as much a part of me as Odessa is, so I hope they live a healthy and happy life forever and ever. Good endings only for me XD. I hope those who’ve read enjoy themselves, and I appreciate the love these chapters have gotten. You’re all very nice, and made this a really fun experience. Thank you so much!

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6 (Part 1 of 2)

PART 6 (Part 2 of 2)

She liked the look on his face, the one she kept putting there every time she did something unexpected. Magda had been correct about assuming Ghoul’s inexperience, but Odessa didn’t think she’d so quickly come to adore his innocence the way she currently did. There was a part of her that wanted to tease him, to really test the limits of his patience…but she didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. What he had already allowed her to do was more than she had expected.

But she did love his look of wide-eyed astonishment when he set his eyes on her naked body for the first time. Selfishly she hoped it was the first one he had ever seen, vanity giving rise to ego in a way that made her feel wonderfully sexy and desirable.

She sat back in his lap, shuffling closer until she could feel the heat of his cock against the inside of her thigh and her knees met with the back of the couch, preventing her from pressing as close as she wanted. Ghoul held up his hands, back to not knowing where to touch or what was permissible—endearing, if she hadn’t already given him permission to do as he saw fit. But she didn’t fault him for it. This was new to him…and she wanted him to take things at his own pace just as badly as she wanted to push him down and show him everything he had been missing out on for all of his life.

“Surprised?” she asked, setting her arm around his shoulders and stroking his cheek, turning his head to hers. She kissed him, taking advantage of his slack-jawed expression to slip her tongue into his mouth and test the waters some more, curious about the velvety feel of his prosthetic tongue and the clinical dryness of his lower jaw. 

He didn’t salivate—that had been the first thing she had noticed, but it wasn’t an issue. Kissing him felt like kissing anyone, just different textures and flavors; there was no getting around the taste of silicone and the faint bitterness of metal, but his mouth was every bit as soft as it looked and she had been delighted to find the plate hiding his lower lip had been removable. It made things easier, which was a good thing because she had quickly fallen in love with kissing Ghoul.

He was sweet and gentle, tender in his explorations and the tentative way he kissed back, like he was still trying to understand how his mouth was supposed to move. His inability to feel as she did likely hindered his progress, but Odessa was patient. She didn’t mind that he was a bit clumsy, or missed the mark, or that he didn’t quite know what to do with his tongue. 

“I…I didn’t think about it,” Ghoul gasped as she pulled away from him after nipping his upper lip. “I…you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” she said quickly, getting ahead of whatever nonsense he was about to say. Of course she wanted to. She had made up her mind the moment she had invited him inside, that this was how she wanted her night to end. He only took a little convincing to make it this far and she knew it wouldn’t take much more to get him into her bed. But all in good time—they had the whole night ahead of them, and neither of them had anywhere to be for the next couple days.

Filled with an affection for him that bordered on suffocating, Odessa pushed off of Ghoul's chest and climbed to her feet, stretching a little to alleviate the stiffness that had built up in her knees—and, maybe, just a little bit for show, to watch the way his eyes traveled up and down her body like he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was amusing how open he was in his desire for her when he worked so hard to maintain a mask of indifference toward everyone else. She hoped it was because he felt so at ease with her, that he could finally lower those walls he had erected around himself to keep others out.

Aware of his heated gaze against her backside as she turned to the kitchen, Odessa took her time gathering a clean hand towel and wetting it with warm water, making sure all the excess was squeezed out before returning to Ghoul's lap. This time, he helped her straddle him with an eager touch, immediately and curiously sliding his hands up and over her hips to cup her bottom.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, enthralled as he scooped up handfuls of her flesh and squeezed, making her giggle. "I…I mean it. You're th' most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Flatterer," Odessa whispered as she tilted his chin up, pressing the wet cloth to the spot between his eyes. 

He closed them automatically and held very still as she wiped his face clean of the faded warpaint, until the only apparent discoloration in his skin was due to the scars surrounding his eyes. He really was handsome—she had no thoughts about 'despite the prosthetics' or anything of the sort. He was just attractive in his entirety and she couldn't look at him and imagine him any other way, even though it wouldn't have been difficult; there were thousands of men just like him, wearing the same face, many of them without scars.

But they weren't Ghoul. 

"What're you lookin' at?" he asked, laying his head back against the couch as Odessa trailed the cloth down his chest, wiping away all evidence of his earlier release before it became tacky and dry.

"I am just thinking how amazing it is," she said, "that out of the many thousands of clones they are making…there is none like you. Not a single one who could come close to being what you are."

A shadow passed over Ghoul's face and he glanced aside.

"Maybe that's a good thing," he said, shivering as the now cool cloth passed over his stomach.

"If only because I am having you all to myself," Odessa said, kissing his forehead. "You are so hard on yourself. Why?"

She dropped the cloth and reached between her legs for his cock, rolling his foreskin up over the head in light movements that quickly had him groaning again. She could listen to him forever, she decided. His voice sent shivers down her spine every time he talked in that low, rough, raspy way, and his groans of pleasure were similarly stimulating. She wanted to press her thighs together just listening to him; the heat emanating from her sex was almost unbearable.

"E-Easier," Ghoul stuttered, lifting his head to watch her. He stared for a moment, then, tentatively, touched a few prosthetic fingers to the back of her hand, trailing them up the length of her arm. Her skin broke out in tiny little bumps at the contact; the metal was smooth and warm, not at all cold like she had initially expected, and the 'pads' of each finger were textured in a way that must have aided with his ability to grip things.

"Can I touch you?" Ghoul asked, staring at her in a way that made her feel like she was being stripped bare all over again.

“Of course,” she said breathily, “as much as you want. Please. I want to feel you too.”

Any other man might have just gone for her breasts. She expected that, but Ghoul surprised her yet again, touching one of her lekku with both hands, curiosity written across his face as he teased the end, watching it twitch rapidly beneath his touch, then sliding up until he reached midway, where the nerve endings were abundant and far more sensitive. Odessa moaned, leaning into his gentle grip and closing her eyes as she indulged in the sensation, wondering what it was about him that made him so good at knowing what to do.

“I read up on this,” Ghoul murmured, his voice a raspy mess she had to work hard to decipher. “Halfway up is where, uh, you have to be careful—stores part of the brain?”

“Closer to the head,” Odessa groaned as he gave her lek a small squeeze, just enough to make her whole body twitch; he stroked back down in a silent apology, winding the tip between his fingers. 

“They’re…unique,” he said. “I like the pattern…it’s different from what I’ve seen before…they’re not tattoos?”

“N-No…the clan my father is from—mmm—all had markings like this. It is genetic.”

Odessa tried and failed to maintain her concentration long enough to keep touching Ghoul, but he seemed just as determined to stop her from doing so. He abandoned her lekku and ran both hands up her arms to her shoulders, then down to her breasts. He hesitated again, but touched one with his left hand first, sliding his last two fingers against her supple skin before cupping her gently. Odessa watched, biting the inside of her cheek to stifle a moan when he thumbed her nipple.

“That’s…that’s nice,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “Always, uh…always wondered how that felt.”

Odessa exhaled on a giggle, quickly covering his hand with hers before he could think to pull away. His curiosity was more of a boon than an actual hindrance. The last time she had taken someone to bed they had been almost too rough; she much preferred Ghoul’s reverent exploration.

“Keep doing that,” she said. “They are sensitive too, especially here–” she plucked at her own nipple, warmth flooding her body when Ghoul repeated the gesture on her other breast  “–but if you play with them…it is fun, I admit.”

He snorted, but did as he was told, taking her words to heart and setting both hands to task. He squeezed her breasts like he was testing to see if they were fruit that had ripened, then scissored her nipples between his fingers, watching her face the entire time; Odessa tried to hold back from moaning too openly, but it was difficult when he was so thorough. She had a good feeling that he was storing the results of his experimentation away for later, keeping little notes on her body for his own personal use. She hoped so, at any rate.

"Wish my mouth wasn't so dry," Ghoul muttered, more to himself than for her benefit. "Wouldn't mind…uh, y'know."

His ears burned red and Odessa snickered a bit, cupping the back of his head and bringing him down for a kiss atop his crown. 

"Do it anyway," she encouraged him. "It will only feel good for me."

He looked so sweet, shocked like he never expected her to capitulate to his whims. It made her want to give him anything he wanted, to let him do whatever he pleased to her without complaint. Admittedly, the thought of his mouth on her was…she was slick with the thought of it, and of what else he might do if she told him he could.

Patience, she coached herself.

Ghoul snaked an arm around the small of her back, holding her steady with his other hand on her ribs as he leaned forward, pressing his face between her breasts and inhaling deeply. Odessa chewed on her lip and stroked his head, bracing herself with a hand against his knee and arching her back so she could watch him nuzzle her. 

"Do I smell good?" she asked, curious about the way he lingered against her for a moment, apparently content to just breathe in her scent.

"Yeah," Ghoul mumbled before pressing a hesitant kiss to her clavicle. "You…always do. Kark, that's not weird, is it? I can't help it, you just always smell so—"

"No, I like that," she said, flushing happily. "If you cannot taste, then it is good you can smell."

The look he gave her was nothing short of gutted, and he buried his face into her neck, inhaling again, a deep sniff that made her shiver with how intense and intimate it felt. No one had ever paid such close attention to her before. She wasn't even wearing any particular perfume (those were even more expensive than they had any right to be), and the rain would have washed away all the stink from the bar. It was just her skin, she realized…that's all he thought smelled good.

"Mmm," she moaned through a closed mouth, hugging Ghoul tight around the neck with one arm as he tilted her back just to the point of being uncomfortable. She felt him kiss her shoulder, exhale hotly against the spot, then kiss her again, where the juncture of her jaw met with her throat.

His left hand found her breast, kneading the malleable flesh until he ducked his head to press a kiss to the swell of her chest. Odessa gasped aloud as he kissed his way to her nipple; his tongue, the moment it touched her skin, was obviously different. Like he had said, his mouth was dry and the bit of moisture clinging to the artificial muscle dried in an instant. 

But it was the effort that counted. 

She closed her eyes and moaned as he sealed his lips around her nipple and sucked as she had done to him, silicone and flesh soft and insistent in a way that was pleasurable even if it was a little strange. She felt the hard ridge of his teeth against her skin as he tested her boundaries, but it wasn't painful—if anything it only enhanced the pleasure she felt, knowing he was working hard to be mindful of her comfort.

Ghoul made a noise into her skin, a muffled moan that made her bite her lip until she was sure there'd be a bruise come morning. His hands held her in a vice grip, keeping her in place as he tormented her with teeth and tongue, switching from one breast to the other and pausing only to glance at her face to make sure she was still okay with it. Of course she was; the thought of withdrawing consent when they had already come so far was absurd.

"You are so good," Odessa gasped, grabbing the back of his hand as he pinched her nipple gently, rolling it between his fingers. "So good…you are making me feel so hot, all over."

"Yeah?" Ghoul asked, his voice rough with interest as he pulled off of her nipple to press a kiss to her neck. "You like it?"

"I am liking everything you do to me," she sighed. "But I want more. Can I…show how I am liking to be touched?"

"Kark, yes," Ghoul groaned. "I wanna know everything. I…I meant it. Wanna make you feel good too."

He was so sweet and earnest. 

How could I ever say no to him? she asked herself as she sat up on her knees. Ghoul glanced between them, at the space where her thighs met, and slid his hands over her hips to grasp at her rear. Odessa smiled and touched his head again, petting him until he looked up.

"Give me your hand," she commanded softly, knowing he'd obey without question. Wordlessly he offered her his left, favoring it for the experience of being able to actually feel. 

Then I will make sure he feels everything I do to him.

"You are so obedient," she murmured, cupping his hand in both of hers and kissing the knuckles of his last two fingers. "So good at following orders. You like to be having clear instruction?"

"Yes," Ghoul whispered, the upper half of his face caught in a blush. "You uh…you have me at a disadvantage. I'll take all th' help I can get."

"I will give it to you," Odessa said as she curled his prosthetic fingers toward his palm. She pressed a kiss to the tips of his flesh and bone fingers and then, without warning, slid both of them into her mouth, swiping her tongue over and between them with a faint noise of contentment.

Ghoul sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open as he watched her. It was a good look on him, a wonderfully innocent expression she wanted to be able to remember. He didn't move while she sucked on his fingers, lathering them with as much saliva as she could; she was already wet enough to go without…but a little more never hurt anyone. Besides, she wanted him to feel as much as she could offer him.

"Osik," he said harshly, in a language she didn't recognize. It was a curse, that much was obvious from his tone, and the sound of his voice went straight to her sex.

"What is that?" Odessa asked, pulling off of his fingers with a parting kiss. "That word? It is not Basic."

Ghoul clenched his jaw, the look on his face curiously enigmatic—blank, like he had to work hard to scrub all the emotion from his expression. Immediately, she understood that this was another subject he didn’t want to delve into, not yet. 

“It’s Mando’a,” Ghoul eventually responded. “From the planet Mandalore.”

“It is special to you?” Odessa asked, before sucking his little finger back into her mouth. Ghoul inhaled deeply and nodded without elaboration. 

"One day you will tell me?" she teased, tweaking his nipple playfully.

He hesitated, then nodded like he wasn't exactly sure, just afraid of displeasing her. Odessa pulled his hand between her legs and pressed her cheek against his so she could whisper in his ear.

"Say something else? I am liking the way you sound."

"Fuck. Uhm. Anything?"

"Whatever feels right."

"...uh…yooba solus…mesh'la."

Odessa kissed the ragged edge of his ear and trailed her tongue around the shell, down to suck on his earlobe; she felt him flinch beneath her, and then curl his soaking fingers into the tender flesh of her inner thigh. His hand was so close to where she wanted it to be that she clenched around nothing and gave a needy moan—frustrated, but not with him, never at him.

"What does it mean?" she asked. 

"Means…means you're beautiful," he said. "I…how do I touch you?"

"Like this," Odessa said, easily maneuvering herself to sit sideways in his lap. She spread her legs, giving him a perfect view of her flushed sex, and reclined back in his other arm. She heard him swear softly as she adjusted, sweeping his hand from her knee to the top of her thigh, feeling out her smooth skin. His touch electrified her in the best way, prickling her skin in the wake of his palm and the ghost of his hot breath against her lekku making her shiver as if she were cold, but there was only the heat of his body beneath her, surrounding her on all sides. 

“Watch,” she murmured as she set her two longest fingers against her cunt, rubbing in the way she liked best and slicking up her fingers on her arousal as it practically dripped from her—at this point he could have done anything to her; the smallest touch was going to set her on fire, she knew it, and it would be over before it had even begun. She wished she could say as much to him, but she was so focused on showing him what she liked that the thought slipped her mind.

"This is the most sensitive," she instructed, finding it difficult to talk with the way it felt like her heart was in her throat; she touched herself with two trembling fingers, parting the cleft of her sex to reveal the tiny nub of her clit hidden among her flesh. "This is the best part…but I will like being touched everywhere."

"You'll cum if I touch you there?"

"Yes…but not by itself. It is different for me."

"I'll do anything you tell me," he said, curling his arm around her waist and splaying his prosthetic hand against her hip. "Anything."

"You do not have to worry about—"

"No. I do. I…It wouldn't be fair."

Ghoul slid his hand from the inside of her thigh to her cunt, fingers slipping through the mess her arousal had already made of her. That first touch shocked her, eliciting a gasp that tapered off into a breathy moan as he firmed up his touch, sliding his last two digits through her moist folds repetitively. Odessa flinched, automatically reaching up to hook her hand around the back of his neck. She bit her lip and tried to keep from making so much noise, but it had been some time since the last time she had masturbated…and it was Ghoul. 

How could she resist when he was the one touching her?

"Th–that is good," she said breathily, her belly hitching as he dragged some of her slick up and over her clit, using two fingers (bigger and longer than hers, he made it look so much easier than it felt) to part her folds as he set his middle finger to task.

"Like this?" he asked, his voice husky and rough in her tchara as he traced featherlight circles around the little bud of flesh.

"Yes, ahhhh," Odessa moaned, sinking her nails into the back of his neck as tendrils of pleasure took root in her gut. "A–A little faster, please."

He was so obedient, so good at listening to her instruction, and he was so intuitive—she didn't need to tell him to keep making sure she was lubricated, or else the constant rubbing would become painful; he just knew and dipped his fingers back against her sex, collecting more lubricant. She didn't need to tell him that he could stroke her opening and tease her clit at the same time, he just figured it out on his own. Odessa rocked against his hand, moaning softly, barely able to think straight as he kept figuring things out on his own, letting instinct and desire drive his movements until she felt sick with the heat building in her loins and the pleasure corrupting her thoughts into mush.

"You're so hot," Ghoul murmured, sounding about as strained as she felt. "'S like you're burnin' up. Kark, I'd give anything t' be able to feel you properly."

"Oooohh," Odessa exhaled, arching her back as his fingers slipped against her cunt, dipping past her outer lips in a way that made her want to beg him for more. Her thighs tried to close of their own accord when he pressed against her clit, but he pried them back apart gently, with a chuckle that sent something racing through her, making her lightheaded and weak-kneed. 

"What else?" he asked in a hushed whisper, pressing his nose against her cheek and inhaling her scent again. "Tell me what else."

"D-Deeper," Odessa stammered, "your f-fingers, please. Inside."

"You sure?"

"Please."

Ghoul ducked his head, pressing another kiss to her breast before withdrawing his hand from between her legs—the opposite of what she wanted! Odessa whined in disappointment, but froze when he lifted his hand to his face, sniffing curiously at his fingers. She stared, wide-eyed, as he flexed them, watching the way her slick strung two together with a thin, dropping thread that glistened like a tiny jewel before it snapped. Then, without warning, he stuck those same two fingers into his mouth and briefly sucked on them.

"Can't taste it," he said, frustration drawing his eyebrows together. "But you smell…you smell amazing."

"Frotz," Odessa cursed, her heart hammering like a piston against the inside of her chest. She reached for Ghoul, snaring him behind the neck and pulling him down for a hungry kiss that felt more teeth than lips and though he couldn't taste her, she still could, the lingering scent of skin and sweat clinging to his breath as he gasped into her mouth.

"Salty," Odessa moaned, kissing him again. "Musky, like I have not showered. It cannot be pleasant…but I wish you could taste me too, I–I want you so much, please, Ghoul…please do not stop."

She felt his hand grip the inside of her thigh again, squeezing and kneading his way back to her throbbing cunt—she groaned when he swept his smallest fingers back against her, then cried out when he pressed deeper, testing the give of her flesh until he found her opening.

"There," Odessa said, squirming in his lap, dimly aware of the hard press of his cock against her hip and the way he grunted as she writhed against him. He sunk his fingers deep, down to the last knuckle, scissoring and pressing them against her inner walls until she couldn’t hold back her moans; her neighbors would complain, surely, but she couldn’t bring herself to care in the moment, not when he was right where she needed him.

“How’s it feel?” Ghoul asked, fixated on the way her thighs trembled. “Am I doing it right?”

He wanted confirmation so badly, and Odessa didn’t have her wits about her to tell him in elegant words that he was perfect and wonderful and so sweet that she thought she could love him if she wasn’t terrified of frightening him off. The affection she held for him felt like it was bleeding over the edges of herself, like a glass filled with too much drink, and everything he said to her, everything he did was another drop breaking the surface tension until she felt like she was going to overflow.

“Ghoooul,” she moaned, lifting her hips, trying to feel more of him, deeper. “Ooohh, please, I am—ahhh, mmm! I am so close, please!”

“C-Can I—another finger? Can I?” he asked, sounding breathless. Odessa’s eyes were already shut so tight, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she tried to fight back against the feeling inside of her like…like a band tightening. He had driven her so close to the edge of her orgasm she could practically taste it, and she nodded desperately at his request, blindly feeling for his face to pull him back in for another sweltering kiss that he returned earnestly.

She felt him rearrange his hand, adding his prosthetic middle finger to her sopping cunt, stroking her diligently before attempting penetration—two might not not have been enough to bring her to orgasm, but three felt like a severe punch to the gut, stealing the breath from her lungs and making her cry out hoarsely as the added girth stretched her with a pleasant burn that settled into the kind of ache she couldn’t wait to wake up to in the morning. It was perfect, he was perfect, and all she could do was hold onto him, crying out as he pumped his hand against her, scissoring his fingers and mapping her out from the inside.

“P-please, pleasepleaseplease,” Odessa whimpered, “faster, Ghoul, I-I–”

“I gotcha,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers and tilting her until she felt the soft cushion of the couch at her back and Ghoul’s weight against her side. He leaned over her, panting heavily as he fucked her on his fingers, the sound of it obscene, squelching, wet and heady as the scent of her arousal permeated the air between them. Pleasure bit and snarled around her bones, setting her nerves on fire from within until she thought she might actually black out—it was almost too much, too much, and yet she didn’t think to tell him to slow down or stop.

Ghoul’s thumb slipped against the hood of her clit again, rubbing tight, frantic little circles against the general area—not quite right but still pleasurable enough that her toes curled with the attention—and she felt his hot breath against her cheek, then her tchara where he pressed a clumsy kiss that made all the heat inside of her coalesce into one bright, blinding ball that slowly exploded, expanding outward as she finally came on his hand, crying out his name in a loud, drawn-out wail.

Her body drew taut as she shook, legs pressed tight around his hand and wrist to stave off the hypersensitivity of too many nerves alight with too much feeling all at once. Odessa moaned again, softer this time as she rode out the waves of her release as it washed over her again, gnawing away at her like a blurrg with a bone. It left her winded and warm all over, panting as she tried to steady her breathing. Dimly, she became aware of the way Ghoul stared at her, mesmerized, it seemed, by her reaction. 

Innocent, she thought, lifting a heavy arm to touch the back of her fingers to the arch of his cheek, so he could feel her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head against her hand. “That…that looked intense.”

“I am fine,” Odessa sighed, inhaling deeply. A few stray tremors wracked her frame, but the brunt of her orgasm had already filtered through her; moving felt impossible…but the couch was much too small for them to comfortably lay side by side.

Ghoul swallowed and reluctantly withdrew his hand from between her legs, his wet fingers lingering against her inner thigh and the bend of her knee before he reached between them to take hold of his stiff cock. Odessa inclined her head, watching as he jerked himself indulgently, smearing her slick all over his length with a low groan that rumbled from somewhere deep in his stomach and passed through her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply—she wanted him, again.

“You were so tight ‘round my fingers,” Ghoul murmured, gently pinching his foreskin and drawing it over the head of his member. “So wet. I didn’t know it felt like that. It was…it was so nice.”

“You were wonderful,” Odessa said, kissing his chest, right above his heart. Slyly she trailed her hand over his pecs and down his stomach, squeezing his side before sliding her hand past his to cradle his balls, massaging them methodically until he choked on his next breath. What was left of the skin tight undersuit he wore beneath his armor clung to his hips, the last barrier between them. She sat up and tugged them down around his thighs, then stripped them from his legs to toss them over the arm of her couch and, finally, curled up beside him to nudge apart his knees with one of hers.

“H-hey,” Ghoul stammered as she forced her leg between his and slid her hand against the inside of his meaty thigh, “aren’t you…aren’t you tired?”

“Are you?” Odessa quipped back, aiming a sultry smirk his way, disarming him completely as she squeezed the muscle she found. She liked the feeling of hair on his legs, softer and finer than the trimmed patch around his cock, or the sparse smattering of hair across his chest and belly. She loved touching him, loved feeling the way his breath hitched and his skin jumped beneath her fingers, twitching like he wasn’t expecting it.

“N-no,” Ghoul admitted, the movement of his hand stuttering as she cupped his balls again, passing them by to trail her nails over his groin and up his abdomen, poking his belly button for fun. He flinched and she kissed his chest again, stifling a giggle.

He gave her a bashful look, removing his hand from his cock and stroking his fingers against her lek, tracing the pattern of her stripes. She watched him, affection welling up inside of her until she felt she could drown in it. He was so sweet, so unlike the hardened man she had met months ago, who barely looked at her, didn’t want to talk to her, who spoke to her like she was a nuisance. It had taken time to break through that tough exterior, but what she found underneath must have been the man he was before the terrible event that disfigured him.

It wasn’t fair that he felt the need to tuck himself away beneath layers and layers of indifference and barely restrained anger, but she could understand why he did it. It was the same way her father acted after her mother died. She recognized hurt and saw the power it held over others…she didn’t fault him for trying to protect himself.

“You want to go somewhere more comfortable?” Odessa asked, walking her fingers up his stomach to tap on his chest. “The couch is too small.”

“Uh…yeah,” Ghoul said. “If you’re sure.”

She was more than sure.

“Come with me,” she said, sitting up suddenly and tugging on his arm. Ghoul frowned, but followed her to his feet, where she took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom. It was smaller than the room they left and her bed filled most of the space; a small closet with sliding doors took up one wall and she had managed to wedge a very small end table between her bed and the other wall, closest to the window. The window was, perhaps, the best part of her apartment; when she opened the shutters she had a view of Coruscant she liked to imagine most people only dreamed about…even though she knew it couldn’t be all that impressive. 

At night though, and especially that night, with the storm, it was something special. She released Ghoul and pressed the button to activate the shutters, opening them midway to reveal a one way window that spanned the entire length of the wall. The sound of rain intensified as the soundproofing screen pulled back, revealing the storm still in full swing outside. Lights from neon signs blurred into colored splashes through the wall of water, bathing her dark room in soft lights of blues, purples, and greens.

“It is not much,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Ghoul apologetically, “but I am not minding it sometimes, when it is like this.”

“Better than the view we have at the barracks,” Ghoul said, standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed. “I’d rather have this.”

It’s yours, Odessa thought reflexively, but that was a foolish idea, just things she wanted to say because she felt like giving him anything he asked for and everything he deserved. But the idea of him staying with her, even living there…it was the kind of thing she would have liked, if it were possible for him. She shook herself free of fantasies and left the window, sliding her arms around Ghoul’s waist in a hug that he returned, albeit stiffly.

“I want to do something for you,” Odessa said, pressing another kiss to the center of his chest. 

“There’s more?” Ghoul asked, sucking in a sharp breath as she slid both hands over his rear, squeezing playfully. 

“There will always be more,” she teased, before pushing him to sit on her bed. “Scoot back, all the way. Make some room for me.”

She followed after him on her hands and knees, her lekku falling over her shoulders and trailing over his skin as she crawled on top of him, trapping him against her pillows and the headboard with a sweet kiss he tried to return with some grace. His flush was back, sweeping down his neck and over his collarbones as he watched her with a wary eye, not quite sure what she planned on doing; this time, Odessa had no intention of cluing him in. He was smart and would figure it out on his own, eventually.

“You are so good,” she murmured, dipping her head to press a kiss to his throat; she knew he couldn’t feel it, but that didn’t matter to her. It was the gesture and what it meant to her, to show him that she accepted him as he was, prosthetics and all. She heard his breath quicken and the sound of him trying to swallow.

“So gentle,” she continued to praise him, littering more wet kisses against his heated skin, “so curious. I am enjoying watching you discover new things. The look your face has when you feel something new, the way you are touching me…I love it.”

She swirled her tongue around his nipple and plucked at it gently with her teeth; he groaned and she pinched the other, feeling voracious in that moment, like she could just eat him alive and drink up all the wonderful sounds he made. He was just so sensitive, all over it seemed, but she especially loved the way he didn’t shy away from the attention she gave him. He liked having his nipples touched, he didn’t try to stop himself from making noises of appreciation, and he was just so…so beautiful. She didn’t think she had words for it, but she teased him with her mouth and her fingers to draw out more of those sweet noises, reveling in the way his hands found their way to her lekku, touching them slowly.

“Ahhh,” he moaned, “hah, Odie—too much. I–I can’t….”

Another groan tore itself from his throat as she pulled off of him to blow cool air against his spit-damp skin, his nipple puckering from the torment. Taking pity, she continued to kiss her way down Ghoul’s body, trailing her tongue over the dips of his muscled abdomen and scraping her teeth over the jut of his hip. She could feel his erection against her stomach as she slid back on her knees, smearing precum against her skin and twitching needily as she ignored it in favor of pushing his legs a little further apart so that she could comfortably lay between them.

“Oh fuck,” Ghoul swore when she ran her hands up both his thighs, kissing the top of one and the inside of the other. 

“I have thought about this too,” she said warmly, looking up at where he sat propped against her pillow, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Cute, she thought, before taking hold of his cock and licking a fat, wet stripe along the underside from root to tip. The noise Ghoul made was new, strangled, and his hands fisted up in her sheets, pulling them out of the careful tuck she had made them in this morning. Odessa sucked a spot at the base of his cock and then ran her tongue against a prominent vein crawling up its length before kissing the moist head.

“Odie,” Ghoul gasped weakly, “y-you don’t hafta—”

“Shhh. Stop trying to deny yourself things that feel good. Simply relax…let me take care of you. Is that so bad?"

"No," he groaned. “Just…you do that and I’m…kark, I know I’m not gonna last long. You’ll get a mouthful.”

“Then I will swallow,” Odessa shrugged, tugging on him lazily. Ghoul whispered another word in what she guessed was Mando’a, but spread his legs a little more and laid back against the pillows to watch. 

“You’re a menace,” he whispered, shaking his head.

Odessa smirked and sucked the insides of her cheeks, working moisture back in her mouth so she could drag the flat of her tongue along his girth in a smooth movement that made him grunt. She rewarded his honesty with another kiss, then tilted his cock to her plush lips, taking the tip into her mouth.

“Ohhh. Odie…damn."

He tasted good in that way men did, in a way she imagined she would have tasted to him; salt-licked skin, sweat, and the faintest smell of rain clinging to him where his blacks had soaked through. There was something else there, something she guessed was the scent that was uniquely Ghoul, smokey and heady without being overpowering. She wanted to bury her face between his legs and breathe it in, until she could define it. It was his scent, and for the first time she thought she could understand the way it must have felt to bury his nose against her neck and inhale so deeply; she wanted to do the same to him, just so she’d never forget what he smelled like.

Odessa took him deeper, swallowing past the head and fisting what couldn't fit in her mouth. He was girthy—thick—but not unwieldy. She had known from first sight he was going to feel amazing once inside of her…and she was glad she had been right. Ghoul groaned gutturally as she took him further, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him hard; she snuck her arm beneath his thigh when he shifted restlessly, pulling it against her shoulder and touching him aimlessly, her hand wandering up his hip and over his stomach for pleasure's sake. 

"Kri–kriffing hells," he moaned, lifting his hips jarringly, instinctively trying to thrust. "That's a sight. Kark, you feel so good, ahh!"

Odessa hummed idly, swallowing him down until she felt the tip of his cock brush against the back of her throat. She stayed there, breathing through her nose as she bobbed her head up and down, closing her eyes and focusing on the feel of him resting heavily against her tongue. She felt his left hand take up her lek, rolling the very tip between his fingers and sending little shockwaves of pleasure through her; she clenched her thighs together, thinking back to how it felt to be stretched around three of his fingers.

Stealing glances at him when he least expected it was quickly becoming a little habit she enjoyed—like now, when she cast her gaze up at him with her mouth full of his cock and saw the way he stared at her, wincing through a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation, chewing on his bottom lip though he couldn’t feel it and how he refused to close his eyes for longer than a few seconds, like he didn’t want to miss out on watching her.

He was gorgeous. 

Odessa pulled off of him with a wet gasp, slathering his length with her tongue and dropping messy kisses to the soft skin connecting his groin to his thigh. She wanted to ruin him for all others, wanted to fuck him so thoroughly he’d never think of anyone else, no matter where his path took him. Selfishly, she wanted him all to herself. He was special. He belonged to her, and she wasn’t willing to let him go so easily after it had taken so long for her to realize how badly she had been wanting him like this.

“I love your taste,” Odessa said huskily. “You are the perfect size, nice and thick. I cannot wait to be having you inside of me.”

"You just say things," Ghoul groaned, "fuck, y' don't know what it does t' me…."

He shuddered, the muscles in his stomach fluttering beneath her fingers in response to her whispered promise of things to come. He had to know—even if he was completely inexperienced he had to know, at the very least, where this all was headed. He bucked against her mouth again when she pressed her lips back to his cockhead, pressing the tip of her tongue against his slit in a tease. His aborted thrust forced him back into her mouth unexpectedly; she almost choked, but greedily took control again and swallowed him back down with a content moan, closing her eyes and gripping him as tight as she dared. 

“Uuunnhh,” Ghoul moaned, arching his back and digging his foot into her mattress to give himself more leverage. She tried to push his hips back down but he was so much stronger than her; she could barely move him and the knowledge did little to quell the ache of arousal that had crept back into her loins. She wondered if, another time, he would be open to holding her down and fucking her hard and deep, or carrying her easily in his arms to press against a wall—she shuddered with each thought, crossing her feet at the ankle and clenching her thighs together for the sweet friction that came with the act. She could already feel the slip of arousal trickling down her sex. Kark, he made her so wet.

“Odie,” he gasped when she withdrew again to lave her tongue against his balls, nudging them before sucking a portion of his sac into her mouth. “Fffuuuuhhck. Odie, I’m gonna–I’m gonna cum. Uggh, don’t stop, don’t stopdon'tstopdon’tstop—”

She didn’t stop, not once, not until he started to stiffen up and his balls contracted; she kept pumping him even as she took him back into her mouth, suckling him sweetly, waiting for that moment when he released; the first spurt of cum hit the roof of her mouth violently, followed by more just the same and Ghoul’s deep, drawn-out groan that pierced through the veil of rain pattering against her window and even the distant rumble of thunder. He rolled his hips up into her face and his hand found the top of her head, resting between the bulge of her lekku as he pressed down the tiniest amount. Another thrill shot through her when she thought about how easily he could mush her face and take what he wanted—he wasn’t the type of man, she felt, but it was an attractive mental image all the same.

She swallowed easily, sucking him through it until his moans turned to whimpers and the hand on her head began to push her away rather than hold her close. She pulled off of him a final time, wiping her lips with the back of a finger, and stared as his cock continued to pulsate, twitching deeply against his stomach as though still caught in the throes of orgasm. Ghoul himself lay collapsed against her pillows with his flesh arm thrown over his eyes, mouth open and chest heaving as he panted for air.

“How was it?” Odessa asked, sitting up and running her hands back over his thighs; the muscle jumped beneath her palms and Ghoul let out a little nervous laugh before dragging his arm just over his forehead so he could look at her.

“I’m…I’m s’posed t’ answer that?” he asked incredulously. “I can’t…it was…it was better than I–I coulda imagined. It felt so good. Nothin’ like it. Ever.”

His speechlessness was adorable. Odessa threw her lekku over her shoulders and crawled back over him to kiss him softly, sweetly, pressing her tongue past his lips to tangle against his. He was getting better at meeting her, mimicking the way she moved her mouth against his and answering her demands with the press of his own tongue. It was good…but she still wanted more.

“You’re amazing,” Ghoul sighed when she pulled back to straddle him, sitting against his stomach with her hands on his chest, kneading the thick muscle of his pecs. “I…is it weird to say thank you? I…I feel like I should.”

“It is not weird,” Odessa said, smoothing over his shoulders and picking up his left arm to reexamine his tattoos. “But do not be thanking me yet. We are not done.”

Ghoul let out a shaky breath and touched her knee with prosthetic fingers, trailing them up her thigh to squeeze her hip.

“I dunno if I’m gonna last much longer,” he croaked. “That took…that took th’ wind outta me.”

“You’re still hard,” Odessa observed, after glancing behind her. She reached back and gave his erection a squeeze as if to test it, causing Ghoul to hiss.

“It’s sensitive,” he complained. “Hurts.”

“We can stop. If you are in pain, we do not have to–”

“No. No, I can…I can handle it, just…just gimme a minute.”

Odessa smiled down at him, cupping his cheek and running her thumb against his upper lip. 

“Take all the time you are needing,” she said. “I am not going anywhere.”

~~~

He had underestimated her. 

In the beginning Odessa was ‘just’ the bartender, and then somewhere along the line Ghoul had begun to consider her more like an actual friend, someone he didn’t mind talking to, someone whom he liked because she didn’t try to judge him or pry too deeply into things that were none of her business. She was polite, somewhat bold, but pleasant and understanding—constants he could rely on whenever he visited 79’s.

But now…now he felt like she had flipped the script on him, trapping him between her thighs and the mattress of her bed, looming over him like someone he didn’t recognize. She was…Odessa was hot, he realized, sexy in a way that didn’t even come close to what he remembered from Rollo’s (and how the memory of her dancing had been completely obliterated by the sight of her naked and squirming in his lap, wet on his fingers as she clenched down on him, crying and holding onto his neck like there was nothing she wanted more than for him to stick his entire arm inside of her and take hold of her heart from within).

Ghoul ran his hands up her thighs from where she sat astride him, marveling at her beauty and wondering, not for the first time, how he had managed to luck out like this. Her vibrant skin, cast almost blue in the neon glow from the lights outside, felt softer than anything he had ever touched before and he cursed his hands, that only one of them was functional, and only half-functional at that. He wished he could feel her.

“I like the way you touch me," she said warmly, smiling down at him with half-lidded eyes, totally unaware of his inner turmoil. He thought she must be tired…but she hadn't complained once, just…just kept pushing him along, further and further like this had been her plan from the beginning.

Realization struck; Ghoul gripped her waist, trying to pull her down but she resisted, her hands planted firmly on his chest.

"Were you…tryin' t' get me in your bed all along?" he asked. "Even when we left 79's?"

Odessa grinned, showing her teeth. He had never noticed before, but she had the slightest gap between her front two. It was…it was cute.

"Yes," she said, triumphantly, like she was pleased he had figured it out. "I had hoped. Not expected, but wanted—badly—for this. It was my intention…but if you had said no—"

"I'm glad I didn't," he said emphatically, an emotion he didn't recognize pooling in his gut. For the first time that night…he was starting to believe her when she said she wanted him, not because he looked like a freak and because it would be an experience, not because she felt sorry for him, and not because he was so obviously lonely and touch-starved that he deserved a pity-fuck…but because she openly and honestly desired him. 

He still didn't understand why…but he was beginning to think…maybe it was okay if…if he didn't have to understand. Maybe that was part of what made her wonderful.

And she was wonderful. 

Ghoul squeezed the tops of her thighs, memorizing the shape of her so he'd know her even in the dark. He liked the gentle flare of her hips and the curve of her sides, and especially her soft breasts—she had been right, they were fun to touch. He liked the look of them in his hands, how perfectly they fit in the mold of his palm, how he could splay his fingers wide and almost encompass one. He liked her nipples, a shade of green slightly darker than her skin, and he liked the way she moaned when he touched her. It made up for the way she had held him on edge, teasing him with her tongue and teeth until his own nipples felt raw from her attention.

But he didn't mind. He couldn't even think to complain. Complaining would be unthinkably rude. She could flay the rest of his damaged nerves open and pull them like strings, puppeteering him whichever direction she wanted him to follow and he'd go willingly…so long as she didnt stop looking at him like he meant more to her than just another regular at the bar.

"I like that about you," Odessa said, curling over him to press her lips against his forehead. His skin tingled where she kissed him and he sheepishly wondered if it would be stupid of him to ask her if she could keep doing that. He…he liked the touching, he liked touching her, he loved what she did to him when she handled his cock…but the kisses…the kisses made him weak. He wanted to melt into her arms while she took him apart with every tender touch of her mouth against his war torn flesh.

"Like what?" he asked, shaking himself out of his musings. 

"Your determination," she murmured against his skin. Her breasts pressed against his chest, distracting him; it was hard to think past the way her nipples brushed his skin and the immediate way his cock twitched eagerly, like he hadn't already cum twice.

"You're th'…th' first girl who's ever touched  me," Ghoul said, inhaling sharply when she ground against his stomach—fuck she was wet, he could feel her slick on his abs and it was torture, it was a special kind of hell that he didn't know how to initiate whatever was supposed to happen next. 

Inside her, he thought. 

That's all he knew.

"I know," Odessa was saying as she held her hand firmly against his jaw and kissed her way to his ear. His hearing aid crackled as thunder rippled through the air, but if he turned it down he wouldn't be able to hear the way her voice dropped an octave when she whispered in his ear, her breath hot and fuzzy and making his heart leap up into his throat.

"But if you are wanting to stop, or take break, we can. I would not force you to keep going. I want to be with you so much…but I can wait."

"I–I don't wanna stop," he reiterated. "I'm fine, really."

"Promise you will tell me if that changes," she said, resting against him. Her lekku slipped over her shoulders, their weight comforting against his chest. He touched her back, trailing his fingers up her spine until he caught her shiver in response.

“I promise,” he whispered.

Odessa kissed him and it felt like a reward, tender and lush and all things beautiful; his entire body sighed in relief and he swept both hands from her shoulders down to her hips and ass, fondling her leisurely. Kissing her, with the way she kept slipping her hot little tongue into his mouth, allowed him to suck a bit of moisture into his cheeks. It didn’t hold for very long, but it made things easier and ‘felt’ more natural—as near as he could tell at least. He just knew kissing was nicer when he had worked up a bit of spit. And she didn’t seem to mind either, just…just kept touching him through it all.

Ghoul groaned and shifted beneath her, flattening himself further against her bed and distantly recognizing how soft and comfortable her mattress was, how good everything smelled—like her, he thought—from the sheets to the pillows and everything in between. It was nothing like the barracks, with thin mattresses that felt no better than sleeping on the ground, threadbare blankets that never kept them warm enough, and flat pillows that woke them up with cricks in their necks more often than not. 

He almost felt guilty for enjoying it so much, like he didn’t have any right to any of this while the rest of his brothers were forced to suffer. But then Odessa touched him again, breaking free of their kiss to stick her arm between them, questing fingers brushing against his cock, and suddenly he couldn’t be bothered to think about anything else. There was just her and the way she looked at him, like he was everything, like she wanted nothing and no one else.

"Still sore?" she asked, gently rolling his foreskin up and down his frenulum. 

"Uh-huh," he groaned, gritting his teeth at the slight pain that accompanied the pleasure.

Odessa shuffled back on her knees until she hovered over him, her sex so close to his skin he could feel the heat from it radiating outward.

Inside her, he thought again, gathering his elbows beneath him to prop himself up. 

He shouldn’t have looked—fuck, it was so hot, the way she played him, her slim fingers dancing on the end of his cock, her green thighs spread over his hips, soft and rounded and so smooth. A phantom sensation cropped up in his lower jaw, like his mouth was watering just looking at her; if anyone was capable of inspiring the spontaneous growth of new salivary glands, it’d be her.

“Odie,” Ghoul growled, feeling impatient just watching her jerk his member like that. “C’mon…stop teasin’. I–I can’t take it.”

“Sure you can,” she smirked. “You are a good boy. You can wait a little while longer.”

Good boy.

He shuddered, her words and her voice somehow connected directly to the nerve endings in his cock, making it throb as precum drooled from the tip, more than he ever produced before on his own. Was he supposed to be ashamed by that? It dripped onto his stomach, bridging the gap with a translucent string that thinned and snapped when Odessa held him still, rolling her index finger over his slit and smearing the rest over his head.

“Osik,” he cursed, running out of words with which to express himself. He felt dumb when she did that, when she did anything that left him bereft of expression, except his ability to moan. He couldn’t hold it in, not when she was so adept at making him feel so damn good.

“You are hard as rock,” she observed. She swiped her other finger through the precum on his stomach and immediately stuck it in her mouth, sucking thoughtfully. He watched, feeling like his insides dropped out of him, like he had just been kicked in the gut.

“Bet you could put a hole in my wall.”

“Odessa,” Ghoul warned through grit teeth, “please. I’m ready. You’re killin’ me.”

“I hope not,” she giggled. “I like you too much.”

He quickly tried to think of something slick to say, something that’d make her giggle again because the sound of her laughter was one of the best things he had ever heard, but she didn’t give him another chance as she slowly lowered herself to sit on him, the length of his cock aligned perfectly with her dripping sex.

I’m gonna die, he thought to himself as he dug his fingers into her thighs and threw his head back, hissing at the contact of her hot cunt—almost immediately it was too much, too hot, too wet, and she gave no quarter, immediately grinding against him, coating him in her arousal in a way he hadn’t even considered a possibility. 

It was hot, it was so hot, and she was hot with her breathy little sounds, so soft, and his name on her lips like a prayer. 

“Oohh,” Odessa moaned, “Ghoul, oohhh.”

It went to his head. It went straight to his head and his cock and he gasped, arching beneath her, holding her down by the hips so he could grind up against her. His cock moved through her plush sex as she rode his shaft, her fingers still teasing the head, keeping him from disappearing completely every time she rolled her hips against him. 

“Ugghh,” he groaned, craning his neck to watch the way her finger slipped against the reddened tip. “Kark, Odie, shiiii–hah!”

She did something then, pinched back his foreskin just enough to slide her finger beneath it—he shouted and bucked harshly against her, his hips almost clearing the bed. He didn’t know how she did it, how she knew to touch him like that, like she was intent on finding all the things he liked, everything that made him squirm, everything he had done to himself at least once before and things he hadn’t even thought about—like that—until she tried them for the first time. It was like she knew his body better than he did…and he would’ve given it to her, if she asked.

Anything to feel like this again. 

Anything to feel at all.

“Ahhh,” Odessa cried, “I want you inside me. Please, can—”

“Fuck, yes, finally,” he groaned in response, throwing his dick up against her, holding onto the sweet curve of her hip with one hand now as he gripped the bars of her bedframe behind him with his prosthetic, not trusting himself to maintain enough control to keep from accidentally hurting her.

She sat up again, little frustrated sounds escaping her as she fumbled him, his cock nearly slipping out of her hand as she hurried to angle him toward her sex. Ghoul thrust impatiently, not helping but drunk off the sight of her little hand struggling to contain his girth. She braced herself with a hand against his stomach and bit her lip, closing her eyes as she lowered her hips, this time keeping him pointed straight. Ghoul held his breath, every cell in his body coming to a standstill as he watched her.

Slowly, agonizingly Odessa circled her hips, rolling forward slowly as she pressed the crown of his cock inside of her. The pressure was immediate and immense, nothing like he had felt before, not even when he took to the showers to edge himself and his own grip was so tight as to almost be painful. This wasn’t pain, though.

It was…if there was a life beyond this one, like he had heard from others who were more familiar with different cultures, then maybe it felt like this.

His mouth fell open but no sound came out as his head made it past the ring of muscle at her entrance, only to be swallowed up by the vacuum-like crush of her inner walls sucking him in. His stomach clenched and he curled his fingers against her, the nails of his last two fingers scratching against her skin as he tried and failed to find his voice.

"Frotz!" she cursed, exhaling sharply as she dropped her hand down to grip his shaft near the base. She sunk lower, pausing every inch it seemed, to give herself space to breathe. He needed it too, to devote every last ounce of willpower he had into not immediately blowing his load early. Her wet heat enveloped him like a vice, an all-encompassing pressure that finally squeezed a ragged moan out of his throat.

It felt like forever passed until she released her hold on him to settle, her ass resting against the tops of his thighs and her sex spread wide around the thick base of his cock. Ghoul couldn’t stop looking, light-headed with desire and hand shaking a bit as he tried to scrabble for some sense of self-control before he really made a fool of himself. He swept his hand up her side, tugging the end of her lek and tweaking a stiff nipple, then steadied himself against her ribcage as she rocked her hips.

The movement forced a grunt out of him; he had no words to describe how it felt, but she was bewitching and he could watch her on end for days. She panted, her lips slightly parted and her eyes half-closed, her hands pressed hard against his stomach and chest as she adjusted, making herself more comfortable he guessed. Every movement sent liquid heat seeping into his veins, his blood so hot he felt like he was going to boil to death from the inside. 

“O-Odiiie,” he groaned in complaint when she lifted her hips, coming off of him a scant few inches that felt like a thousand, torment compared to the feeling of being surrounded so intimately by the most perfect warmth he’d ever known.

“H-How does it feel?” she asked in a near whisper, her voice hitching a bit as she lowered herself back down, coming to rest again. 

“I–I can’t,” Ghoul stuttered. “It’s–ffff. ‘S like…’s hot. Good.”

He sounded like an idiot. Shame rose up—she couldn’t possibly think any part of his inexperienced fumbling was attractive, but she laughed sweetly and tilted his chin up with a few fingers to kiss him. Her lekku draped over his chest and shoulders again and he wondered what it would feel like to bury himself beneath them and hug her against his chest. He bet sleep would come easy, if he could just hold her like that and let her scent surround him.

“You are so sweet,” she whispered against his lips, before licking into his mouth. “Let me take care of you this time. You do not need to be doing anything. Lie back and watch, okay?”

As if he had any ability to offer meaningful input on the matter.

How she could pretend to be so composed was a mystery to him, but it worked to his own benefit when she sat up and began rolling her hips against him in slow, undulating movements that worked his cock like it was caught in a sleeve, massaging every inch, her heat seeping into every molecule until he wanted to melt into her. She could do anything to him, he decided, anything at all and he’d just thank her.

He watched the lips of her sex cling to his shaft with every drag of her hips, her arousal causing the skin of her inner thighs to stick to his groin with a tackiness he reveled in. It was slow and tortuous, nothing at all like the frenzied couplings in the pornographic holovids he and every other clone had watched at least once out of sheer curiosity. It was better than he had ever imagined, better than he had dreamed, better even than Wolffe had said it would be the day he had come back from his first week of leave, grinning ear to ear and sporting a dark hickey on his neck.

Wolffe didn’t say it would feel like this, like something right had clicked into place, or that he’d feel so complete. He didn’t say it would feel like…like everything wrong was suddenly made right, that he’d stop caring about all the things that used to piss him off…like nothing else mattered, except this.

Odessa leaned back, her hands on his thighs as she gyrated, working her hips in a circular motion that almost made his vision black out. The base of his cock bulged as she fucked him over, exercising her inner muscles and squeezing him purposefully—she had to be doing it on purpose, there was no way it was an accident. Ghoul groaned, taking hold of her hips with both hands again, forgetting all about his trepidation surrounding his prosthetic.

He loved the way her flesh filled his hands, loved the sight of the indentations his firm hold left on her, pale spots in her skin that filled with color as soon as blood returned to the area. She bounced atop him a little faster, panting harder, sweat making her skin shimmer; the ends of her lekku curled and her nipples stiffened—her breasts jiggled hypnotically with every downward thrust, to the point where he almost couldn’t take his eyes off them. Every part of her paralyzed him and left him unable to do anything other than lie there and take it, groaning his pleasure at her ceiling.

She pulled off of him again and this time he thrust up, chasing after her warmth, wanting to bury himself so deep inside of her he’d never come out; she moaned as he ground up into her, pulling her back down to hold her in place.

“You’re so karkin’ hot,” he managed to growl, kissing frantically along her lek when she leaned over him. “You’re drivin’ me crazy.”

 “Good,” Odessa gasped, digging her nails into his chest, hard, pinching his skin until he knew there’d be marks left over. “It is so hard to–hnn–think. You are so big, so full.”

“Kark, I can’t listen t’ you—shit, I don’t…I dunno if I can—hahh—hold out much longer. You’re so tight!”

He fucked up into her again, thrusting on instinct and going by feel—and it felt right, felt so fucking good to have some control in the situation, where she sat up on her knees and let him move the way his body was begging him to. Ghoul braced both feet against the bed and held onto her waist, thrusting awkwardly until he found a pace that worked—slow at first, easy, long strokes that had her clutching at his arms and moaning his name all over again, clenching down on his cock ‘til it felt like she was trying to rip it off.

“Fuck,” Ghoul cursed, watching her sex spread wide around him as he rocked against her. Her thighs clenched hard on either side of his hips and she stuck her hand between her legs, scissoring her fingers around his cock and spreading her lips enough to show off her clit, engorged with blood, plump and glistening as she spread her arousal over it in rapid, frenzied circles that made her jerk against him. He wanted to touch her so badly, wanted to be the one doing that to her, but he only had so many hands and he couldn’t divide his attention the way he wanted—his next thrust was clumsy, she came down too hard and the clap of their skin almost startled him.

“Oooohh,” Odessa moaned, “do–do that again, please!”

“A–Again?” he asked, before lifting her up, arms straining even though she didn’t weigh that much, and dropping her again while thrusting at the same time. It was much harsher, the sensation more powerful, and the sound they made when coming together made him dizzy with want and need.

“Like that?”

“Yes!”

He could do that. He could do anything she asked of him.

Odessa’s fingers never left her clit as he took charge, thrusting just hard enough that the ache in his groin intensified to an almost uncomfortable degree. Her breasts bounced with every movement, her lekku swaying tantalizingly just out of reach. Her stomach heaved and the wet noise of her fingers rubbing into her sex—shlick, shlick, shlick—embedded itself into his brain.

If he died…if he went back on the field tomorrow and a shell dropped out of orbit and landed directly on his head, blowing him to atoms, he knew he’d die happy, having experienced this…no, having experienced it with her. 

“K-kark,” she whimpered, rubbing herself faster, her fingers pressing down hard, like it wasn’t enough. He could practically feel her frustration—he felt it too, on every thrust, like there was a tension inside of him so close to snapping and the fact that it didn’t was maddening. She clenched down on him and he groaned, his hips stuttering to a halt as he ground them together, trapping her fingers against her clit.

“Close,” he heard her whisper. “So close…please….”

His balls tightened and the band inside him stretched tight, a hole tearing through the thinnest part as she caught his eye, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she rolled her hips against his. It was that look that did it, that intense, almost hungry look that felt like another punch in the gut because he realized it was for him, that everything she was feeling was because of him and though he had never had much of an ego to begin with, even before all that happened to him, a masculine surge of pride came to life inside of him, and the band snapped.

“Fuuuuuuh-ck,” Ghoul groaned as he came, his cock twitching inside of her and his hands gripping her hips hard as he thrust into her again, his balls clapping against her ass with a wet slap. Odessa cried out, arching her back as she ground her clit against the base of his cock, collapsing over his chest and pressing her face against his skin as she let out a muffled noise closer to a scream than anything else. He felt her walls ripple around him, then constrict in pulses as she finished, triggered by his own release. The tighter she felt, the harder it was for him to move and he choked, bucking against her desperately as she clenched down on his cock.

He couldn’t hold back another impassioned groan, dropping his head back against her pillows and sliding his hands around the round of her ass, pulling her closer, as if he could somehow open up his ribcage and swallow her inside of him. He couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough, even though he was sure there wasn’t a single part of them that wasn’t somehow glued together at that point. He could hear her too, still mewling out her pleasure as they gradually came to a standstill.

His heart felt like it was going to explode with how fast it was beating, like a buzzing in his inner ear that had nothing to do with his hearing aid, something he thought he’d be able to feel if he were without. 

“Kark,” he rasped, mouth suddenly too dry as he tried to find words.

Odessa laughed tiredly, still trembling as she caught hold of herself easier than he could, pressing kisses to the center of his chest.

“Oh, stars,” she sighed. “Ghoul…eswo Ghoul…that was…by the Goddess, that was amazing…you are sure you are not doing this before?”

He panted, finally falling limp, feeling like all his muscles had turned to liquid and were bleeding out of his pores. She shifted and his cock, finally spent, felt like it had been fucked raw; a sweet, tender pain lanced through his groin and he hissed, giving her a slight squeeze.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, feeling choked up for some reason. “Just…stay like that…for a minute. I need…I can’t do it again. I’m…I’m wiped, I–”

“I am not moving,” Odessa said, pressing her cheek to his sweat-damp skin. “We rest now. You did…you are so wonderful, so good. I cannot wait for how sore I am going to be in the morning.”

She propped herself up on her forearms and stretched to kiss him, just a little peck that paled in comparison to previous kisses she had bestowed upon him, but for some reason…for some reason that little moment, that innocent little gesture and her content, sleepy look, with her flushed cheeks and her smile and the way she laid against him…it broke him.

He pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes before the sting of tears hit, but it was too late to stop the way he shuddered, or the strange sound he coughed up. He wasn’t crying. He didn’t cry, not while alone and especially not in front of her.

But his body didn’t care about the shame he felt; he felt tears wet his lashes and drip down the arch of his cheeks. He wasn’t fast enough to wipe them away and she was too close not to notice. The pressure in his throat expanded down to his ribcage and it ached, it ached like it did in the alley, when he couldn’t see anything except Toydaria and his dead and dying brethren around him.

“Fuck!” he said through clenched teeth, frustrated and annoyed with himself for ruining a perfectly good moment. “Fuck, I’m…I’m sorry, I don’t know why I keep…keep doing this, I—”

“Shhh,” Odessa said, cupping his cheek. Her thumb found a tear and wiped it away gently, but another fell in its place and she leaned up, capturing it with the tip of her tongue. 

“It’s okay,” she murmured, kissing right below his eye. “If you need to cry, then cry. No one is stopping you.”

“I don’t know why,” he complained, looking up at her, distressed. “Everything was perfect, I’m just makin’ a mess of—”

“No mess,” she said gently, bringing her forehead to his. “Nothing is ruined. I am not upset, not kicking you out—you are okay. You are safe. Nothing is wrong with a few tears. If there are needing to be more, then that is fine too. I am not judging you for feeling too much.”

For a moment he thought he was going to lose control of his breathing, but her hand came over the top of his head and she pet him, rubbing back and forth until his shuddering—he hadn’t even realized he was shaking, fuck—slowly came to a stop. 

He was gripping her too tight, he realized, but Odessa just watched him, catching his tears with the bend of her finger and flicking them away or wiping them on her pillow. She…she really didn’t care. She was warm all over, she smelled like flowers native to her home planet, and her voice was so sure, so soothing…he didn’t know why he ever bothered resisting the gravitational pull she had on him, from the very beginning. 

“How are you real?” Ghoul asked.

“I do not know how to answer that,” she shrugged. “I am just…me.”

“I don’t know how I found you,” he said, lifting his left hand to touch his fingers to her face. She felt real. Odessa captured his wrist and turned her head to press a kiss to the flesh part of his palm and then laid back against him. His cock slipped out of her and they both groaned, with her finally rolling off to tuck herself against his side with her head on his shoulder and her leg still draped over his stomach.

“Maybe we have found each other,” she said, with a little smile. “Maybe it is the Force…or the Goddess…maybe just good luck? I am not caring so much what had a hand in it…but I like that it happened. You are…very interesting to me.”

“You keep sayin’ that,” Ghoul said, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. I don’t get what’s so ‘interesting’. What do you really mean?”

“Just that. You are interesting, and I want to know you more. It does not have to be more than that for now.”

He supposed she was right. He was too tired to keep trying to get a real answer out of her…maybe it was just a language barrier thing. Her Basic was fine, but…maybe there was a word in Ryl she was trying to translate that just didn’t have an equivalent. He could figure it out for himself, take up those lessons and try to learn as much Ryl as he could, maybe find someone to talk to who would understand what she was trying to say.

Ghoul yawned, exhaustion taking hold of him finally as everything around them fell into a strange stupor. He looked at the digital meter on her nightstand and realized only a couple hours had passed since he walked through the front door. It felt…it felt like a lifetime ago. The rain hadn’t let up at all since they left 79’s and the cool air against his damp skin sent a chill through him. Odessa hummed and sat up, twisting to stretch. 

“You are staying the night,” she said, as if to make that perfectly clear. He didn’t have it in him to argue, but nodded and pulled himself up to sit. Together they yanked back the sheets and crawled beneath, collapsing again almost immediately. Ghoul took hold of Odessa’s arm, tugging until she crawled back against him with a content sigh.

“You are so warm,” she mumbled as he pulled her into his chest. “I could get used to this.”

His heart leapt and he tried to think of something to say to that, but she yawned and wiggled in place, making herself so comfortable and small that he couldn’t bring himself to keep her awake any longer. But…he needed to.

“Odie,” he whispered. 

“Mm?” came her sleepy response.

“Uh…sometimes I…don’t sleep well. I wake up an’...it’s not always easy. It’s…violent, sometimes. I…I don’t wanna scare you.”

“I am not scared of you,” she said with a little snort. “If you wake up, so will I. Do not worry.”

Reluctantly he laid back down, chewing on the inside of his cheek though he couldn’t feel a thing. She said not to worry, but he did. Now that his lust was sated, now that all the desire had bled out of him (though not entirely; if he thought about her too hard he knew he’d want her again) he could think clearly. There were things about him she didn’t understand, things that had happened to him that made it difficult to get a full night’s sleep, or made it seem like he was…dangerous. 

He didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t have him around.

But…she said not to worry about it, and she was so warm and her bed was so soft, and he was so, so tired. Despite his misgivings, his eyelids felt heavy, like there was a string attached to them and someone kept pulling on it. He yawned, his chest expanding, and finally allowed his eyes to close. The sound of the rain striking the window was a little soothing, he supposed, and the weight of Odessa on his arm felt…really nice.

Don’t worry about it, he told himself. It’s a problem for the morning.

~~~

Hours later, the rain finally stopped, but the storm hovered above the city like black doom. Lightning flashed in the clouds, arcing through the sky to make contact with long, metal rods mounted to the top of every building taller than twenty meters.

Odessa stirred slightly, cozy and tingling all over. Distant thunder rumbled, followed by a much louder booming that rattled the window and dug into her bones, pulling her out of sleep. She hummed to herself, stretching her legs a bit; almost immediately she felt a tender ache between her thighs, followed by a slow warmth that spread through her entire body.

Oh yeah.

Beside her, Ghoul slept on, flat on his back with his other arm hanging off the bed and his legs tangled up in the sheets he had managed to pull off the both of them. She hadn’t even felt him moving. With a little tsk, she tried to pull the corner of her topsheet out from under him—he jerked, and thunder shook the air again.

With a shout, Ghoul shot up, scrambling until his back hit the bars of her bed frame; even in the dark Odessa could see how wide his eyes were and how he looked around wildly, gasping and chest heaving—she almost froze, almost let the sudden shock of his waking disarm her completely.

“Wh-where am I?” he shouted, his voice loud, grating—terrifying.

“Safe,” she hurried to say, crawling over the mattress to place her hand on his knee. He jerked away from her, the look on his face both angry and frightened, and she quickly changed direction, sliding off the edge of the bed to hit the button for her window and then turning on the small lamp sitting on her nightstand. A warm glow filled the room and as the shutters unfolded to their closed position, the sounds from outside slowly abated. Odessa sat back down on the edge of the bed, watching Ghoul as he squinted against the sudden light, shaking his head a bit.

“You are safe,” she repeated softly. “You are in bed, with me, on Coruscant. You are spending the night, remember? It is still raining outside…there is a really bad storm passing through.”

Ghoul’s expression shifted almost immediately, like someone had pressed ‘reset’; all the aggression drained out of him and he hung his head, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“Damnit,” he hissed. “Fuck. I…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I knew this would happen. I…I’m so sorry Odie. I–I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and crawling across the bed again. This time, when she placed her hand on his knee he only flinched. “You were just confused…it is a new place and it was dark. I am sure the thunder is not helping.”

He looked up at her, his face…he looked like a kicked tooka, like he wasn’t entirely sure if she wasn’t about to change her mind and kick him out of her apartment. It was a ridiculous notion, but she had a feeling he couldn’t help it.

“How about we leave the little light on,” she said, nodding toward the lamp. “I can lower the brightness and you will be able to see if you wake up again. Shutters are closed, and the soundproofing will keep the worst of the thunder from reaching you.”

He glanced over her shoulder at the aforementioned things and drew a long breath, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“I don’t think I’m worth all th’ trouble,” he said.

“You do not think much of yourself at all,” she pointed out, “but that does not mean I think of you the same way. You are no trouble to me…you are not a nuisance. I still want you here.”

He was quiet for a long time after that, staring at her like he was trying to peel her apart and get a good look at what was going on inside her head. Odessa stared back, refusing to back down. She could see why others would be on edge around him; he didn’t blink and the silvery glint of his prosthetic eyes was…unnerving.

But not to her.

“Do you want to try again?” she asked, tilting her head. “I am still tired…and I know you must be too.”

Ghoul stared some more, but then lowered his gaze with a short nod as he gave up. Odessa breathed a sigh of relief and took hold of the sheets, giving them a good shake to straighten them back out before slipping back under. She reached over to tap on the lamp, lowering the brightness to a low glow that still left them with plenty of light by which to see, and then rolled onto her side, wriggling as she found her sweet spot.

The mattress dipped as she felt Ghoul settle behind her, his body heat a familiar thing by now as he scooted closer. She bit her lip, hoping he wouldn’t feel so embarrassed that he couldn’t cuddle close like he was before, but she felt his hand creep under her arm, the metal so smooth as he spread his touch over her ribs and under her breast and she smiled to herself, knowing she had won out over whatever plagued him.

He pulled her against him, his chest firm against her back and his breath hot against her lekku; to her surprise he lifted one carefully, pulling it over his shoulder to rest comfortably. Then, his lips pressed against the back of her neck in a painfully tender kiss that made her stomach flutter.

“Thank you,” he whispered softly, stroking her belly with the tips of his fingers. “You’ve…shown me more grace than I’m used to. Feels rude t’ just…take it.”

“Nonsense,” Odessa sighed, enjoying the feeling of his touch trailing over her skin. “It is easy to be kind. I want you to be happy.”

“...wish I knew why.”

“Because I like you. I want good things for you.”

“...I like you too.”

Her breath caught in her chest and held for a moment before releasing; it was the first time he had admitted it that entire evening, and though she would’ve been a little hurt if he hadn’t felt the same way, she hadn’t expected him to say anything. 

But he did and she couldn’t help the way she felt, filled with hope that…that this might not be a one-time thing.

“Ghoul—” 

“Jenot,” he interrupted.

Odessa paused, the word foreign to her.

“What?”

Ghoul shifted, squeezing her tight.

“Jenot,” he said again. “It’s…it’s my name.”

“Your…your name is Jenot?” she asked, confused.

“Yeah…uh…it’s what I chose back…back before. When I left Kamino. Ghoul is what…what th’ others called me, after I got put back t’gether. I don’t mind it, either, if you’d rather call me that. But my name is Jenot.”

“Jenot,” Odessa said, trying it out. “Jenot, Jenot.”

“Like I said, if it’s weird, you can—”

“Jenot,” she said, addressing him. “I like it. It is a beautiful name. I am so happy you are trusting it to me…thank you.”

She heard him inhale sharply behind her and the arm around her waist tightened just a bit more.

“No,” he choked out, “thank you.”

He kissed her lek and ducked his head against the back of hers, holding her firmly. This time, she didn’t try to turn around and look at him, nor did she comment when she felt something warm and wet drip onto her skin. She just lay there, idly stroking his arm and letting him take his time experiencing whatever emotion had taken hold. It was his right…and she thought it was…kind of beautiful that she was there to take part in it.

“Jenot,” she eventually sighed, feeling sleep take her as her eyes began to close again. “Such a nice name…I cannot wait…to meet you in the morning….”

His hand fumbled for hers, metal lacing between flesh and bone as he intertwined their fingers.

“I’ll be here,” he mumbled back.

“Good…I cannot wait.”

[sapphicsparkles]

"Bo-Katan isn't mean" Okay because I'm so tired of hearing this:

[/mēn/] adjective: unkind, spiteful, or unfair. vicious or aggressive in behaviour. Not mean? Okay definitely not vicious or aggressive in behavior Like her first appearance where she's part of Death Watch, a terrorist group and slaps Ahsoka's ass without consent to demean her?

Or when she shoves Ahsoka to the ground and *laughs* in a tent where Death Watch (including Bo-Katan) has stolen women from the local village on Carlac and put them into forced servitude?

OR when she helps slaughter the village and burn down said village for asking Death Watch to leave them alone? (that's her on top of the roof)?

Or after when she tried to kill Ahsoka and Lux for trying to help the villagers and leave?

Or when she aided in a plot to cause intentional destruction and fear to manipulate the people of Mandalore into deposing her own sister and overturn Satine's very successful government that ended the clan wars (the Traditionalists then were given the lush moon of Concordia and their own political agency and government in which Pre Vizsla was the governor)? Then forcefully deposed Satine at gunpoint after she had abdicated because of the will of the people who no longer accepted her rule due to the manipulation of public perception by Death Watch.

While Bo-Katan was likely traumatized by the Mandalorian Civil War/Clan Wars at a young age and there's no solid canon evidence but It's widely believed by fans that Bo-Katan was groomed and/or radicalized by Pre into DW from a young age--even if you believe this, IT DOES NOT EXCUSE HER HORRIFIC ACTIONS. None of it justifies her wrongdoing. She still had agency.

Okay so what about unkind or unfair?

Surely that can't apply to her sarcastic comment to Ahsoka when approaching her after she had watched her struggle on Kessel and made no move to assister her, only watching her to use her to fight back against Maul and reclaim Mandalore. While she does respect and befriend Ahsoka by the end of the Siege, she still initially saw her as someone to be used for her agenda.

Or when she uses Obi-Wan's guilt over his relationship with Satine to convince him to aid her forces in retaking Mandalore, which Republic intervention would disintegrate treaties over a hundred years old and start another war on top of the ongoing Clone Wars. Which to her was a legitimate, even desperate method to reclaim her planet from Maul who was only serving his own agenda, but it wasn't a very nice way to do it. In some ways Bo-Katan is justified in how she is mean, but it doesn't make her not mean.

Then there's her anger towards Sabine after she discovering what the Duchess does and that Sabine created it (after hearing how guilt ridden she is and how she already destroyed it.) Was her anger valid, oh yeah. Was it kind and and fair? No.

What about in The Mandalorian you ask? She's not a literal terrorist anymore in the Mandalorian. She's surely not still spiteful or unkind. Definitely not when she insulted Din's religious beliefs and way of life and called the COTW a cult.

Or when she took credit for killing that one guy's brother without any remorse.

Or when she changed the terms of her agreement with Din and forced him into helping her by withholding the agreed upon information after Din upheld his side of the deal. Which was her plan all along. And then on top of that, mocks him by using his own mantra.

And then there's the disdainful opinion she has of Din and her own superiority.

Only agreeing to help Din save his kid when he has something to offer her to serve her own agenda. Which again, valid but not something she does out of the kindness of her heart.

Oh and then she's so direct and straightforward to Boba, not mean at all.

Then in season 3 when Din shows up to help her reclaim Mandalore the first thing she does is take out her anger on him and once again insult his religion/COTW and invalidate his belief that the Mines will restore his place in his religion. All unnecessary.

TO BE EXTREMELY CLEAR: I'm not discrediting Bo-Katan's personal progress into a better person or when she does do good--a hero even by the end of Mando season 3--that's the whole point of a redemption arc, you have to be redeemed from something. And at her core is a commitment to Mandalore, but you can't ignore the cruelty and ego and dare I say it meanness that has gone with it, that's the beauty of her complexity is that she can be a character that grows and evolves and becomes honorable and also still be bitchy. Bo-Katan doesn't have to be morally squeaky clean or a victim to enjoy her character and her sometimes ruthless determination for Mandalore or appreciate her compassionate aspects and letting go of her ego. She's not an easily consumable or morally black and white character. This is in fact, what I love about her.

Thank you @armoralor for assistance with the screenshots from The Mandalorian!

[eoieopda]

darksided (myg)

Min Yoongi adored you. He'd simply never hurt you - unless you asked.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader | Darksided AU Type: One-Shot - SMUT (You must be 18+ to ride this ride.) Sequel to foresight, but can be read as a stand-alone fic. Word Count: 4.4K Content: established relationship au; soft bf yoongi turned mean!dom!yoongi at the request of sub!reader; p in v penetration; unprotected sex/creampie (be safe, y'all); oral sex (m receiving); brief face-fucking; v fingering; squirting; a lil degradation and spit kink, as a treat; harsh language; after-care; also cavity-inducing fluff A/N: This was nine (9) pages in Word - my longest smut ever, all because this man-bun era has got me FUCKED up. Barely proofread (sorry ily). Check out my other fics here. Listen to the playlist here. 12/11/22 A/N: The sequel, blindsided, is finally here! check it out when you're done here :)

“When I signal you, that’s when you press the button, okay?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared down at his recording equipment – a galaxy in its own right, lit up like a Christmas tree. He may as well have asked you to defuse a bomb, except you couldn’t even identify the bomb. “There are approximately three thousand buttons in front of me right now,” you whined. 

He was exhausted and you knew it – you could feel it – but his patience with you was, as always, limitless. His fondness for you still shone through his eyes, overpowering the dark circles looming below, as if he hadn’t made a mistake in inviting you into his office. Then there was his laugh, surprising enough to smack you but so soft that it cradled you. “It’s the only one that says ‘record,’ jagiya.” 

A quick survey of the landscape before you indicated that this was a criminal oversimplification. There was a minimum of four options fitting his description, and all of them looked both breakable and expensive. You blinked down at the sound board, then back up at him, dumbfounded. “I think you made a mistake letting me in here.” 

Again, with the laugh – knocking you prone, nudging you closer to an early grave. Somehow, out of all of time and space, you got to exist in the same lifetime that he did. How lucky you were to have him, and his wind chime laugh all to yourself.  

You were lovesick and it was chronic. 

“Look down at your left hand – no, baby, don’t move it – that knob above your middle finger?” He was standing on tiptoe inside the booth, gesturing as if he was landing a plane. Your eyes darted up to follow the path of his fingers, then back down to the board. “Go diagonally up from that knob for two rows. Do you -” 

Overcome with a sense of unearned pride, you pressed down on the button, beaming. You certainly had not been signaled, but nonetheless, your efforts were rewarded. Importantly, that reward was now recorded for prosperity. Your favorite mixtape, the soundtrack of your racing heart, a lullaby: “I really couldn’t love you more if I tried.” 

His wide smile, like his tone, was sweet enough to cause a cavity. You were folded up like a pretzel in his chair, but somehow, your knees still seemed to wobble.  

You were lovesick and it was terminal. 

“Should I shut it off now until you’re ready to start?” You asked with cheeks glowing pink. 

He shook his head, still grinning. “I can cut it down. I do need you to cue the track, though – when I signal you.” He stated the last bit of his sentence slowly, shooting you a pointed look and then a wink. 

You were once lovesick and now you are dead. 

Finger hovering over the ‘play’ button, you watched him wide-eyed, anxious to avoid another mishap. His faith in you may have been unshakeable, but yours wasn’t – and this third mixtape was his magnum opus. You’d rather explode into a cloud of dust than mess up the tireless work he’d put into it so far.  

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. Without looking, he raised his hand and pointed silently to you. Within seconds, your mind was blown. 

Min Yoongi contained multitudes. Despite your years together, it never ceased to amaze you how your beloved introvert – who said more with actions than anyone could communicate with words – could transform the way he did. Moments ago, his voice was a blanket, fresh out of the dryer, but now? Now, his presence electrified you. There was an unapologetic confidence – callousness, even - that you only saw when he rapped. 

Even his body language changed, like he’d evolved right before your eyes. You couldn’t look away because there was nothing else worth looking at – just him, top to bottom. The way he held his head, lips nearly touching the microphone, highlighted the deadly curve of his jaw. Carved from marble, luminescent and sharp. The strain of his neck, vibration visible in the column of his throat as he growled out his bars. Then down, down, down to his hands. His rings caught the light from above him, refracting slivers of white as his fingers moved with the beat.  

Oh, how you wanted them wrapped around your throat. 

Seeing him like this had you spellbound – feral, if you were being honest. As you watched, bottom lip clamped hard between your teeth, a heatwave crashed over you; it burned you from the inside out. Sometimes, you dreamt about this version of him. Your Yoongi adored you. He showered you with affection, respect, and praise. He’d never dream of hurting you. 

But would he, if you asked? 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him finish the take. 

“Aegiya?” There was a hint of concern in his voice that told you he’d called out to you more than once already. 

You swallowed hard and shifted in his chair. “Yes?” 

He slid his wireless headphones down until they rested around his neck. The bright red band leaned against his cheekbone as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Are you alright? You looked like you were in a trance.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You were hypnotized, and it was entirely his fault. 

When you merely hummed in response – too distracted by his features to form a coherent sentence – he opened the door to the booth and stepped out. He pulled the headphones off completely and set them down on the counter before walking straight to you. 

You were vibrating. Could he feel it? 

The trembling only intensified when he reached you. Looking down at you, he ran the pad of his thumb over your cheek. 

“Tell me.” He said, as if that brief touch informed him of the maelstrom spinning circles in your brain. “Something’s got you dizzy.” 

Psychic. 

Suddenly, you were shy. This man knew and loved every single aspect of you, and still you felt embarrassed. If you begged him to fuck you – not just make love to you – would he laugh at you? Even worse, would he be offended? You didn’t want him to think that what you had wasn’t already perfect because it was.  

His eyes scanned your face, narrowing just slightly as he tried to read your mind. The two of you were silent for what felt like hours before you saw it – his pupils dilating, offset by the spark of silent understanding. The corner of his mouth twitched when he cracked the secret code. The hand caressing your cheek lowered slowly until it came to rest on your throat, thumb harshly directing your jaw – and your gaze - upwards. 

“Is it me, baby?” He teased with a voice like velvet, cocking his head to the side with a smirk that left you stupid. “Have I got you dizzy?” 

Involuntarily, you whimpered. So stunned by his stare that you were speechless. Melting into a puddle. Dripping. 

He exhaled sharply through his nose – a cruel, quiet laugh - and his eyes darkened further. “I can’t give you what you want if you can’t tell me what that is.” 

Once again, you shifted in your seat. You were suddenly so painfully aware of every nerve in your body, each one tingling like a live wire. Even your thighs clenched, trying desperately to apply pressure where you needed it most. You craved him so badly that it ached. 

“I don’t want you to be gentle with me,” was your answer, though it sounded more like a question. “I - I know that you -” 

His hand shifted quickly from underneath your jaw. He now had your cheeks pinned between his thumb and middle finger, squeezing hard to cut off your sentence before you could finish it. There was a microscopic pause as his eyes searched yours for permission. You blinked and nodded to the fullest extent you could within his grasp. 

“Stupid girl. You know nothing.” 

Muffled by his hand, your weak moan was barely audible, but he could feel the way your breathing quickened. The rise and fall of your eager chest. The way your nipples, yet untouched, made themselves known through the fabric of the t-shirt you’d stolen from him. Draped in him but smelling like you.  

Blackcurrant, orange blossoms, vanilla. 

He leaned down, mouth now hovering beside your ear. The heat of his breath on your neck was maddening, but it was the way his lips brushed against your ear that proved fatal. When he spoke, it echoed in every one of your bones. A whisper heavy enough to bruise. “Get up.” 

You followed the lead of his hand over your mouth and rose to your feet. Sharply, he redirected your gaze to the seat you’d just left. It was inexplicable how something so faint could be so blatant. That nearly imperceptible spot, snitching on you; showing him how your body begged for him. 

“Such a messy girl, ruining my chair like that.” He tutted. “I should punish you, shouldn’t I? Should I ruin you, baby?” 

Held so still, your knees still trembled. Without his hand gripping your cheeks, you would’ve crumpled at his feet. Before you could do so yourself, he forced you downward. After all, your knees couldn’t buckle if they were digging into the hardwood. 

He released his grasp and used that same hand to push his hair away from his eyes. Your heart raced as if you were sprinting, and yet you were frozen in place. You didn’t know where to begin because you wanted everything.  

Your indecision prompted him to roll his eyes. “Do I have to do everything for you? Say it. What do you want?” 

“T-to touch you. Please,” you begged, “I want to feel you in my throat.” 

He beckoned you silently with a curl of his finger. You sat up further on your knees and reached out tentatively for the drawstring tied at the waistband of his joggers. 

“Stop.” He ordered, and you did. Looking down at your wide eyes, his smirk deepened. Your hands fidgeted uselessly in your lap as he began untying the drawstring himself – his slow pace was torturous. You'd have ripped them off his body if given the chance. “Open your mouth” 

Again, you did as you were told. 

It took everything you had not to drool when he lowered the waistband of his joggers just enough for his cock to spring out. Already throbbing, beige tip glistening with pre-cum in the half-light. He took himself in his hand and began to pump himself as he took a step towards your waiting mouth.

"Stick out your tongue."

Now, you couldn’t help it – and when he saw the string of saliva spilling from the tip of your tongue, he growled. 

“Fuck,” He breathed, sliding the fingers of his free hand into your hair and tugging. “Look at how badly you want to be used - you're begging without saying a word.” 

You couldn’t speak, but your eyes were screaming at him. Please. 

Teasingly, he tapped the tip of his cock against your tongue, hissing as he felt the wet heat of your mouth. But when you went to close your lips around him, he pulled your hair – and you – away. 

“Spit on it – slowly. Keep your eyes on me.” 

You felt a twinge between your thighs as he delivered his orders. You’d undoubtedly soaked through your little sleep shorts already, but his tone just then made a mess of you. You squirmed as you kneeled, feeling the rivulets of slick begin to trail down the innermost part of your thighs. And he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

Looking up at him from under the curtain of your lashes, you saw the wicked fascination flicker in his eyes. The way his breath hitched as he watched your spit fall from the ledge of your lips until it connected with his shaft. In your peripheral vision, you could see his cock twitch at the contact. 

“Now open.” Finally. 

A low moan broke from the depths of his chest as he slid into your mouth, and you couldn’t recall a more beautiful sound. As you pushed yourself further onto him, you hallowed your cheeks, following the vein running along the underside of his length with your tongue. 

You stared up at him through wet eyes. So full, you pleaded with yourself not to gag, to breathe steadily through your nose. Tip pushing past your soft palate, he grunted as he bottomed out. Without softening his gaze, he watched for your reaction – always so concerned, even when he was pretending not to be. To his surprise, you swallowed, allowing the tightness of your throat to squeeze him.

“You’re fucking filthy.” He muttered with his eyes screwing shut. His jaw fell open when you slid off him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock once you reached it. His eyes followed suit, blown out pupils fixated on the spit dribbling down your chin; darkening at the obscene sound of him sliding through the suction you'd so masterfully generated. 

Pulling your hand from your lap, you reached out slowly for his balls. As your fingers massaged him, his grip on your hair got tighter. Almost imperceptibly, he began to roll his hips against your mouth. 

His panting was interlaced with curses as he fucked himself into your warmth. “Fit so fucking perfectly in your throat,” He grunted, “Like you were made to be my toy.” 

It startled you when he suddenly removed himself from you. Thoughtlessly, you whined – and then, immediately, you froze. Eyes darting back up to him, the anticipation of consequences prevented you from closing your mouth fully. You waited there on your knees, trembling, while your mascara pooled uselessly in the wells beneath your eyes. 

“Somebody feels entitled,” He scoffed as he glowered down at you. “You better be careful what you wish for.” 

Before you could process the speed of his movements, his arms hooked under yours and pulled you from the ground. Your legs ached, but as he loomed over you, you followed his unspoken order, backing yourself into a corner. With your shoulder blades pressed flush against the wall, he stepped forward and used his knee to push your legs apart. 

For a moment, it seemed like his façade was cast aside. He raised his hand slowly to caress your cheek, swirling soft circles into your flushed skin with his thumb. Out of habit, your eyes drifted shut and you leaned further into his touch. And when he leaned in, just as slowly, your slightly parted lips waited for a kiss that never came. 

“You’re just begging to be filled, aren’t you?” He asked in a whisper so sharp it stung. “Not loved but fucked.” 

You nodded shyly. “Y-yes,” You stuttered, “Please.” 

His lips still lingered closely enough to touch yours, to send shockwaves shooting down your spine, but he continued to withhold his affection. This was the first time – ever – that Yoongi had turned down an opportunity to kiss you. Until now, he didn't seem capable of doing so. 

“Please what?” 

“Fuck me. Please -” You keened as his hand began to drift from your cheek, down your neck. In the blink of an eye, every word you knew disappeared from your vocabulary. The tip of his index finger trailed down over the fabric of your stolen shirt, between the valley of your breasts, and came to rest at the hem.  

He pinched the seam between his fingers and tugged. “Part of me wants to tear this off you,” He mused with his head tilting to one side. His eyes remained locked on yours; the amusement in them was clear, even in the darkness. “But most of me wants to see you fucked out and stupid - in my shirt.” 

Your legs threatened to give out yet again. He was devastatingly handsome under normal circumstances, but this newly unearthed cockiness was ruinous. You bit down hard on your lip as he raised your shirt enough to access the waistband of your shorts. With his help, you shimmied them down until they dropped quietly at your feet. Quickly and clumsily, you stepped out of them and kicked them aside. 

Yoongi’s hand rose again to your face. His middle and ring finger were extended; the others curled down towards his palm. You didn’t need to be asked to open your mouth – it was the only response your eager mind could conjure. His fingers were cool against your tongue as you closed your mouth around them. And when he was satisfied with the lubrication you’d provided, he slid his fingers out from your hollowed cheeks with a lewd pop. 

“How badly do you want to come all over my fingers?”  

It’s a wonder there wasn’t a puddle beneath you, considering how those words made you gush. “I need it,” You pleaded with fluttering eyelids and bated breath, “Please touch me.” 

You whimpered and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers dive into the pool between your thighs. Every nerve lit up like a switchboard as he slipped through your soft folds. He scoffed at how wet you were – so soaked that it was audible in each millimeter of his movement. 

Simultaneous to his middle finger penetrating you, your head rolled back until it rested against the wall. Your mouth fell open, but you were too entranced to do much more than breathe as you acclimated to his presence inside you. He started slowly, curling his finger upwards as he pushed further inwards. Even at this pace, the otherwise dead air was filled with the sound of your sodden cunt. 

“You’re dripping already?" He let the tip of his finger rest against the spongy spot behind your pubic bone; the pressure was incredible, but he stayed torturously still. “And yet you’re so - tight.” Achingly slow, the pad of his finger spiraled against your g-spot. “I’ll have to stretch you out before I can bury my cock in you.” 

As his ring finger plunged inside of you, you cried out, head slumping forward against his shoulder. Sensing that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up for much longer, Yoongi grabbed the back of your right thigh with his left hand and pulled your leg up to rest against his hip. With this new angle, his fingers ventured even deeper until they bottomed out at the knuckle. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to the new sensation.  

As he fucked his fingers into you at a feverish pace, he continued his mind-numbing assault on your g-spot. Over and over, he toyed with you; thrusting, stretching, scissoring, and teasing as your arousal trickled into the palm of his hand. There was an intoxicating – unbearable – warmth burning in the pit of your abdomen. A sensation so all-consuming that your eyes rolled back in your head. 

Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in and begging for more as your helpless heart raced. “Oh my god,” You wailed, “Holy shit – Please, I’m - Yoongi!” 

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Never in your life had you fallen apart like that – shaking and speaking in tongues. Having sensed the swell of pressure, Yoongi knew exactly where this road headed; and he could tell that you were fighting it. “Don't hold back from me,” He growled.

And then the dam broke.  

A wicked grin danced across his face as the wave of pleasure crashed onto the floor below you. “Fuck. Look at this.” He pointed downward and your bleary gaze followed. Remnants of your orgasm had splashed onto his joggers as well as the hardwood. “Nobody could ever make you come like I can. Say it.” 

The words bubbled out of your chest, half-way between a sob and a moan. “Nobody can make me come like you.”

You were a shivering, spilling mess; and your ears were still ringing from how intensely your every muscle had clenched. Before your knee could buckle, you were abruptly swept up into his arms. With one arm wrapped tightly around your back, his free hand slid over the surface of his desk, sending various papers and cords rocketing towards the floor.

Once the space was cleared, he set you down and laid you out onto the cool surface. You were exhausted and thankful to be horizontal; though you knew he wasn’t yet finished with you. 

After all, he intended on ruining you. 

Through half-lidded eyes, you gazed up at him. The hair he’d so neatly tied into a bun at the top of his head had mutinied; inky tendrils were now splayed out haphazardly in different directions. You were fuck-drunk, but you swore the overhead light behind him encircled his head like a halo. It was all so unholy - the way he stood before the altar of your exposed core, with his face angelic and his throbbing cock in hand.

The hand not pumping his cock slid over your bent knee. It took tremendous effort, but you lifted your arm to place your hand on top of his. One tiny squeeze – a brief, loving check-in – received an echo. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the fleeting moment of tenderness was gone. With each of your legs now trapped in his hold, he pulled you towards the very edge of the table. 

Once he was satisfied with your closeness, his focus switched to his access. He simply wasn’t content to leave your legs bent up at either side of him; so, he rested the backs of your legs against his shoulders and leaned forward until you’d nearly folded in half. 

He didn’t need to use his hand to center himself prior to entering you. His body understood the proportions of yours automatically; like you were puzzle pieces created to fit perfectly together. Though his intention may have been to penetrate you slowly, centimeter by centimeter, your slick was overwhelming. The usual ache you felt upon acclimating to his size was drastically reduced; and he bottomed out quickly, cursing. 

The fullness you felt was euphoric, and it left you mewling hopelessly under the weight of his body. He was buried deep, throbbing as your walls constricted around his width. It shocked your system when he slid out almost completely only to drive himself back into you. 

“Like a fucking vice grip,” Yoongi hissed as he picked up his already brutal pace. Every curve, every vein dragged maddeningly along your walls as he fucked you. “Do you hear how wet you are? Shit – your pussy is begging for me.” 

The only thing louder than the squelch of your cunt was skin hitting skin; close behind was the way your name spilled from his lips in a flurry of expletives. You, on the other hand, were nearly incoherent. With every thrust, he knocked another thought loose until eventually, you had nothing left.  Relentlessly, his cock grinded against your g-spot, leaving you too mesmerized to recall your own name. 

There was a sheen of sweat above his knitted brows; and his bottom lip was now trapped between his gritted teeth. He was close and you knew it. The depth of his thrusts didn’t falter, but his steady pace was getting harder for him to maintain. You felt the rubber band inside you beginning to fray - on the brink of snapping and shooting you into orbit like a sling-shot. 

“Baby,” The soft, shaky voice caught his attention. He opened his eyes and focused hard on you – your flushed cheeks, and trembling lips. As he surveyed you, his resolve began to evaporate; his expression softened immediately. There he was: your Yoongi. “You’re gonna make me come again.” 

As your walls clenched tight around him, the edges of your vision began to blur. You watched his face as he came shortly after you, studying how delicately his eyelashes fluttered as the warmth of his release filled you. In that moment, it was the two of you, toppling in slow-motion off the edge of the universe. Irrevocably in love - heaving chests, shuddered moans, names whispered in the place of prayers. 

He shifted his arms to allow your quivering legs to fall from his shoulders. When the hands on either side of your head could no longer hold up his weight, he collapsed onto you. With his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, you could feel his breathing begin to slow as his cock softened inside you. 

You were nearly delirious when you felt his lips buzz against your skin. You were too far gone to understand what he was too exhausted to communicate. “Hmm?” You hummed, wordlessly asking him to repeat himself.

He groaned with the effort of pulling himself away from your embrace. He only traveled far enough to glance over at you. “I said, I think several of my past lives just flashed before my eyes,” He stated matter-of-factly. Within seconds, his eyes crinkled up at the corners and his grin grew. That soft chuckle wasn’t far behind. 

“I don’t know where I am.” You admitted with a sheepish laugh. After a moment, you amended that thought, “I don’t know who I am.” 

Yoongi placed a gentle kiss below your ear – the only part of you he could reach without sitting up fully. “I have no idea. How did you get in my house?” As you rolled your eyes, he bumped the tip of his nose against your jaw, too tired to tease you much more than that. “But now that we’re both completely spent, I’d like to go back to being soft with you – for now.” 

He tried to wink at you, but both of his lead-lined lids closed in unison.  You hummed thoughtfully as you ran lazy fingers through his hair, like the decision required serious deliberation. You paused, then giggled.  “Permission granted, my love. You may proceed.”

He was quiet for several moments before he stood bolt upright. Startled, you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked to him. He turned towards the booth and then back to you.

His eyes were wide as a blush swept over his cheeks. "Aegiya, did you forget to stop the recording?"

Sequel (posted 12/11/22).

[dix0nvix3n]

����°⋆ Chapter 1 °⋆𖤓

⋆☀︎｡Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader  ⋆☀︎｡Media: The Walking Dead; No Apocalypse & Alternate Universe ⋆☀︎｡Pronouns: She/Her  ⋆☀︎｡ Warning: Smoking (Cigarettes), One mention of weed, Talk of a bad past relationship. (That's it I think?) ⋆☀︎｡ Word Count: 2.5k

⋆☀︎｡ Author's Note: It's finally here... the beginning of my magnum opus. Even though I only have this one chapter out, there hasn't been a single day since I came up with the idea for the fic where I didn't think about it at least once. I just wanna thank all the people who let me infodump about it; y'all are true soldiers, cause I can really ramble on. Special thanks to @sinkdownbeneath for helping me write the intro because I was completely stuck for months with almost nothing to show, and being the person who let me yap the most, he can account for me pretty much talking about it every day for the past five months. So, anyway, I guess I hope y'all like my first finished something that wasn't just a blurb. Last night I only had a little over 200 words at 10 PM something, and now it's 7:44 AM with 2.5k words as I write this... I don't know what got into me, but anyway, enjoy!

June 1st, 1992

Daryl finds himself propped up against a tree, catching his breath. The cool summer air around him makes his chest ache with every breath he takes. He had been running, hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crunch beneath his feet as he darted past every tree, trying to evade potential capture from a party that had him jumping out a window when the cops showed up due to a noise complaint.

He spent much of his life within the comfort of the woodland, underneath the thick canopy of leaves and branches, the first roof he ever felt safe under.

He gasped for air, his legs exhausted and his lungs overworked, adrenaline still pulsing through him as he slid down the rough bark of a tree, pulling his legs up to his chest.

He's close to the road, hearing a solitary car cruise past. He can tell it's late from the stars that peek through the leaves that loom above him in the thick black sky, but he spots his glimmer of hope, which seems to be the soft light of a gas station just a bit beyond the road's traffic barrier closest to him.

With a deep inhale, Daryl knew he had to walk to the gas station and reluctantly call for a ride in a phone booth.

After fully catching his breath, he pulled himself off the ground and began walking towards the gas station, already dreading the thought of the phone call.

Reaching the gas station, he saw two cars; one belonged to the lone worker at the cash register inside, and the other belonged to a woman smoking a cigarette at the side of the building. The woman did a quick wave at him, which he found to be a little odd just because most people at this time of night aren't too friendly, but he gave a polite wave back anyway. 

Finally getting up to the phone booth, Daryl looked down at his watch, which read 1:00 AM, causing him to let out a deep sigh, realizing how late it was and how much of an inconvenience it would be for someone to come and pick him up. 

He stepped inside the phone booth, staring at the phone for a minute before popping in the quarters he luckily grabbed from the living room floor of the party. If he hadn't grabbed them, he'd be completely fucked and have to figure out his way back to his apartment.

After dialing the number he knew would pick up, the phone rang just a few times before a tired and clearly just woken up by a phone at one in the morning voice picked up.

"Hey, Mr. H... Could ya pick me up?"

"Thanks. 'm sorry about this; kinda just started walking and didn't stop. Ended up at some party, and now I don' know where I am."

"Yeah. Place is called Peachy Speed, never seen another gas station called this; it must be family-owned or somethin' and the closest road sign says it's on Navel Street. You know where I'm at?"

"Okay, cool. See ya in a bit. Sorry again."

After hanging up, Daryl stepped out of the phone booth with his head held down, letting out a deep exhale and running a hand through his hair until he heard a pair of feet shuffling up to him.

He looked up to see who it was, and it was you, the woman who waved at him.

"Need one?" You held out an open pack of Marlboro Reds, with only one cigarette missing from the pack.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks." His thoughts stuttered for a moment because he was caught up in the fact that you came over to him. You're really pretty, and now Daryl feels like a nervous schoolboy trying to ask a girl to the prom just because of a simple gesture.

He grabbed a cigarette out of the box and reached to pull his lighter out of his pocket, only not to feel it, and checked the other pocket to have the same luck. "Shit."

You let out a small chuckle. "Need a light too?” You pulled a lighter out of your pocket and handed it over to him.

He nodded his thanks and popped the cig in his mouth before lifting the black bic with a spiderweb seemingly hand-painted on up to the end of the stick. Flicking the flame to life, he took a long inhale and handed you back the lighter, as he really took a moment to take in the sight of you. 

You were in a black tank top tucked into a pair of black ripped jean shorts. Under the pair of jean shorts were fishnets with an intricate pattern of moons and stars, and you had on a pair of slightly battered-up Doc Martens. 

As he exhaled the first plume of smoke into the night sky, he saw your kind smile, which sent a rush of warmth through his face. Your lips had a simple gloss on them, but your eyes were a different story, painted with smokey eyeshadow, sharp graphic eyeliner, and two rounds of mascara on each set of your top lashes. He also noticed the simple yet pretty titanium stud on the left side of your nose and two helix rings on both your ears.

He thought you were gorgeous, his heartbeat a slightly faster pace than what it normally rested at.

"Rough night?" You asked as you lit up a cigarette for yourself, letting out a slight gag at the taste and smell that you weren't used to, which caused Daryl to let out a small chuckle.

"Sorta. More of just hated the fact I had to call and wake someone up to come and get me. First time smokin'?" He said before he took another drag.

"How'd you know?" You said sarcastically as your face contorted in disgust a bit at the taste building up in your mouth and throat after each puff.

"Maybe try a different brand. You'll find one ya like." A small smile graced his lips as he butted off the ash at the end and took another drag. 

"Nah. Think I'm quitting after this one. I'll just stick to weed."

He let out a chuckle. "May I ask, why'd ya even start?"

You let out a small groan, running your hand through your hair in slight embarrassment. "I finally left my shitty boyfriend once and for all. I finally realized he'd never like me for the real me. I constantly had to put on this mask around him, and I finally found out that it was impossible to fix him and the fact he didn't actually like me. I know it sounds weird, but I guess my thought process was that my epiphany about him would stick with me after smoking one like a character in a movie or something." You let out a laugh. "Stupid, right?" 

He snubbed out the end of the cigarette, as it was almost a roach at this point. "Nah, it ain't stupid. A lot of my best thoughts come after smokin' one, cleared my head more times than I can count. You deserve one after the bullshit he put you through, I think. Hope the prick is havin' a shit night after realizin' he's lost you cause ya seem awesome to me so far."

You felt warmth begin to rise in your cheeks at his words. "Thanks. I know I deserve better. I'm just pissed; it took me so long to realize it. So, anyway, what's your name? I can't believe I haven't asked yet."

"Name's Daryl; what's yours?"

You had a few good puffs left of your cig but decided to snub yours out as well since you didn't like it anyway. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Daryl. My name is (Y/N). Do you wanna come sit with me at my spot against the wall? My most likely melted slushy is calling my name to get this taste out of my mouth." 

"Yeah, I can. Might be a bit till my ride gets here, so I might as well sit down." He started walking to your spot, and you followed in tow. 

When you got back to your spot, you looked down at your slushy on the ground. The dark purple concoction of blue raspberry and cherry slushy combo was completely melted. "Goddammit." You didn't fully care though; you paid for that slushy, because you were stubborn it meant you were going to have all of what you paid for, so you drank down the rest of the sugary liquid with a satisfied sigh. It was luckily still cold, at least, and it was just what you needed to get the taste of the cigarette out of your mouth.

As time passed, you and Daryl talked about whatever came to mind as you doodled some intricate pattern on the front of the pack of the Marlboro Reds with a sharpie, ultimately moving to the back when you ran out of room. You found out that he works as a mechanic for motorcycles and cars at a nearby auto body shop, that he rides a motorcycle that he built himself a few years ago, that he loves to hunt on occasion, specifically with a crossbow, and that he ran from the cops at a house party tonight.

You knew your short time with Daryl was up when you saw a 1987 Ford Sierra MK2 pull into a parking spot at the gas station, and Daryl stood up, doing a quick stretch. The man in the car smiled and made a small wave at you, and you did the same back.

"It was nice meetin' ya, (Y/N). I'd talk more, but I don't wanna keep him up any longer." He said as he gestured a hand towards the man who came to pick him up. 

"It was nice meeting you too. Thanks for talking to me, Daryl." You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and held them out to him. "Take these. You need them more than me. Plus, I just quit." You grinned at him as he took the box from you. 

"Holy shit, thank you." He smiled back as he placed the box in his own pocket and slowly started walking backward towards the car. "Hope ya have a good night and that Nick the dick has a shit one. 

You let out a laugh at the nickname Daryl gave your ex-boyfriend and waved him goodbye with a "You too." You leaned your head back against the wall, staring up at the night sky as your eyes finally began to feel tired, knowing you should head back to your friend's apartment soon and try and get some sleep before your nine AM shift. 

Once Daryl got in the car, he let out a quiet sigh as he looked out the window at you, wishing he dared to ask for your number. You were the first good conversation he'd had in a while, and his schoolboy-like crush on you kept growing the whole time you talked.

"So, who's that?" The man said as he shifted the car into gear, Daryl noticing the grin on his face.

"A girl that started talkin' to me after our call. Name's (Y/N)." He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, mindlessly tracing the pattern of doodles you did.

"You ask for her number? The car was now beginning to be backed out of its parking spot.

"Nah. Mind if I smoke?" Daryl shook the pack and began looking for one of the lighters he left in the glove compartment a few weeks ago. 

The man shook his head with a slight sigh and said, "Go ahead." He wasn't shaking his head over Daryl wanting to smoke, but over the fact he wouldn't ask for your number when he obviously liked you, but he knew he couldn't push him; he understood Daryl's nature.

Daryl looked back out the window at you, opening it as he blew out the first cloud of smoke. He then looked back down in his lap where the box lay, flipping it over to the back to see what you had drawn there as well. His breath hitched as he saw it. On the back was your phone number, and above it said, "Call me" with a smiley face. 

The tips of Daryl's ears were beet red, and he tried to hold back his face from turning the same color. He looked back out the window at you to see you grinning at him this time, to which he smiled and waved goodbye to you as the car pulled out of the lot. In Daryl's twenty-three years of life, he could say that this night was one of his best.

"Daryl, why'd you call me Mr. H again? Son, you've known me for five years; how many times do I gotta remind you to call me by my name? It's Dale for you."

Daryl let out a small cloud of smoke this time, wanting to savor this one on the peaceful ride back. "I'll tell ya again, it happens when I'm nervous; didn't wanna wake you up, s'all, and you still are my boss after all."

"Daryl, you're like a son to me, and I told you to never be nervous if you need help, and that includes coming and picking you up in the middle of the night if needed. I'm here for you." Dale placed his right hand on Daryl's shoulder, keeping his left on the wheel as he squeezed his shoulder lightly before returning it to the steering wheel.

"Now, it's not Mr. H or Mr. Horvath, son. It's Dale."

Daryl rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, sir," he joked, letting out a chuckle.

It was the next day around 10:30 PM when Daryl picked up the phone on his nightstand and finally called the number you gave him, nervously wrapping the cord around his finger. The phone only rang twice before the other end picked up, "Hey, is this (Y/N)?" 

The inner teenage girl in your brain screamed in excitement, so happy that he finally called. "Omg, Daryl! I was wondering when you were gonna call me. I've been waiting since I got off my shift."

"Didn't know if you worked a mornin' shift or got off at night, and I didn't wanna leave too many voicemails on your friend's phone."

"Yeah, I worked a morning shift at the diner today. I got off at five. Morning shifts are the fucking worst." You're lying on your stomach on the couch, playfully curling the phone's cord around your finger and kicking your feet back and forth in the air.

You and Daryl talked for an hour, mainly talking about the shitty customers you dealt with today, sounding especially frustrated about the woman who yelled at you just because the diner was out of unsweet tea that you couldn't do anything about because the place was also out of tea bags to make more. What did she want you to do? Just up and leave your job and go buy the tea bags, your fucking self?

"Even though I don't want to, I gotta go to bed 'cause I have another morning shift tomorrow. I get off at five, so call me around six-thirty, okay?" 

"I get off at five too. Works for me. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight to you too, Daryl."

The call ended, and you both looked up at your respective ceilings, smiling as warmth bloomed through your faces. You both slept well that night, falling asleep to the thought of calling each other tomorrow.

⋆☀︎｡ Extra author's note: Here's what Dale would look like in 1992, I took Dale's age of 64 from the show since the apocalypse started in 2010 so he'd be 46 in 1992. I think this picture of Jeffrey Demunn is from when he was 43 maybe? I can't remember but that's close enough to 46 and even if he isn't 43 in the image he fits the look of someone in their mid-forties. Just imagine him without the cowboy hat, okay? There's not a lot of pictures of him when he was younger.

⋆☀︎｡ Taglist: @mrdixon , @yevmarie , and @shadowcitrine

⋆☀︎｡ Divider creds: @ saradika, go check her account out! She has some very cute dividers!

[trinittyy]

fic recs

just a little assortment of my favorite works to keep track of them and also show love to the respective writers.

note - a majority, if not all, of the following works contain dark content that some could find triggering. tread carefully.

divider by @firefly-graphics

toxic affection - @love-toxin

warnings: harassment, bullying, some violence, forced relationship

pairing: yandere!bakugou x reader

literally unashamed to say that BNHA fanfiction is what brought me to Tumblr

but this was one of the first I found and it's epic

what's your escape - @gotnofucks

warnings: obsession, possessive behavior, non-con

pairing: dark!sherlock holmes x reader

the man is disastrously down bad for the poor reader

she was so witty and clever but in the end, he got what he wanted in the most satisfying way

infatuation - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor - masterlist

warnings: mentions of stalking, obsession, non-con

pairing: dark!clark kent x reader

poor girl didn't have a clue or a chance in the world to escape this man

sidenote: I can't add Roo to the recs without mentioning just how talented she is. She was the first proper introduction to dark fics in the Marvel fandom and I've been hooked ever since. The amount of detail and dedication that goes into her work is noticeable and she's a talent that deserves recognition. It's one thing to make me like a fic or two of my favorite Marvel men but another to have me thirst over shit I didn't think I'd like.

naughty ransom holiday tales - @jtargaryen18

warnings: kidnapping, non-con, dub-con

pairing: dark!ransom drysdale x reader

guilty pleasure series

hate to love ransom but I can't help it

what the king has - @sincerelythedarkside

warnings: dub-con, character death

pairing: soft!dark steve rogers x reader

royal au

love me a good jealous steve

plot twist shocked the shit outta me

smut was out of this fucking world

love bites - @cherienymphe - masterlist

warnings: character death, jealousy, non-con

pairing: dark!steve rogers x reader, peter parker x reader

modern vampire au (what's not to love there)

this actually made me cry like a bitch

ongoing series

sidenote: Seeing as Cherie will be on this list many times, I have to say it's difficult not to add every piece of work on this list because while some writers have a magnum opus, everything she writes is a work of art. Her range and the backstory she puts in her characters make each story feel like a movie I just can't get enough of. Will forever love her writing.

kryptonite - @cherienymphe

warnings: non-con, obsession

pairing: dark!bruce wayne x reader

the build-up and tension gave me actual chills

trailer park babydoll - @mypoisonedvine

warnings: dub-con, infidelity, age gap

pairing: wayne munson x reader

guilty pleasure fic

absolute filthy smut

wrath of the dragon - @straywords

warnings: non-con, chasing

pairing: dark!daemon targaryen x reader

yet another down bad man

overdue - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

warnings: creepy curtis, non-con, obsessive behavior

pairing: dark!curtis everett x reader

there's little to nothing i love more than a good ole broody man with attachment issues

anxious - @syntheticavenger

warnings: stalking, kidnapping

pairing: dark!peter parker x reader

tasm peter

cutest in a way lol little fic

the dream that got away - @dotieeee

there's not nearly enough dark fics ft my fave peter so I love this one

warnings: dub-con, non-con, manipulation, controlling behavior, obsession

pairing: dark!morpheus x oc!mera

probably the first dark fic about morpheus

each chapter was a masterpiece

and i still haven't seen the show lol

thanks for the invite - @syntheticavenger

warnings: non-con, bitchy friend behavior, implied drugging (i think), oral (f receiving), slight bondage

pairing: dark!lloyd hansen x reader

a funny little unhinged lloyd fic

rsvp - @syntheticavenger

warnings: dub-con, hide and seek, exasperated bodyguard, exhibitionism (a bit)

sequel to the fic listed above

lloyd is still unhinged and reader is still suffering

[vampireimiko]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, this whole fic is KINDA suggestive if you look at it that way, but it's really just a bunch of body worship from Leon 🫶🏾

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞, THIS was sitting in my notes finished for a week now, i just added some more detail and decided to post after seeing so many leon edits today💀 also, i tried to make this as gender neutral as possible ANYWAY, hope you enjoy !!

Leon absolutely adored your body. From your skin, to your scars, facial features, curves, strechmarks, and all. Most importantly to him, he loved your thighs. He could lay in between them anytime and just be completely content with everything.

Leon could spend all day worshipping your body if you allowed him too. In his eyes, you were the reincarnation of Aphrodite. You were his Aphrodite. With the way Leon treated you and made you feel, you had no time to feel insecure about any part of you. Because he'd let you know in an instant, your perfect just the way you are.

"You're really pretty, you know that?" Leon said as he stared deeply into your brown eyes.

"Of course I do, you tell me any chance you get." You responded with a giddy look on your face. The way Leon made you feel couldn't compare to anything else in this world. It's like he was heaven sent to you.

"And I'll keep doing it for as long as I live." He said taking your hand and placing a kiss on it, trailing kisses along your arm that eventually ended at your neck.

"Your skin is so soft, and you smell so fucking good." He continued peppering your neck with kisses, making your breath hitch when he hit a sensitive spot of yours.

"Fuck Leon.." You whined as he began to trail his kisses down your body again, going even further this time. As he kissed down your brown skin he went into great detail about how he felt about each part of you as he left small kisses on each spot.

"Your so beautiful, I love you, I love every part of you. Your scars, stretch marks, and your chubby stomach. I especially love these thighs. Besides being with you, they're my favorite place in the whole world. You make me feel so loved, so it's only fair I do that to you aswell, no?"

"Did you know that? Hmm? Did you know that's how you make me feel pretty baby?" Leon teased with a voice full of lust.

"Uhuh.. you tell me all the time." You managed to say in a breathy voice, he was making you feel so good right now. You could hardly focus on anything.

"You're the embodiment of perfection to me. You're my Aphrodite."

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞, if I had the energy to make this a bit longer, this DEF would've been my magnum opus😭 anyway, I hope you enjoyed !! requests are open as of now and feedback and constructive criticism are always appreciated.

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[vorthodoxy]

ok but hear me out. An immortal pred who has a fucked up sense of love, falling in love with mortals and not wanting to leave them behind when they eventually die. so the best course of action? Eating them and digesting them. The pred thinks this will keep them together forever, and is totally fine with it, despite the guilt of hurting their love. The pred will eventually digest them of course, and in the morning the pred will lovingly caress the new fat on their tummy, having their partner apart of him forever

It's RLLY angsty but also kind of hot idk...

-🍓🎭

yESSSSS I'M ENTIRELY ON BOARD FOR THIS thank u strawberry thespian

the pred is lonely, part and parcel with being immortal, but the world is filled to the brim with so many interesting people! they travel from city to city, spending just long enough to get to know each one like the back of their hand before moving on to the next one, and then coming back once it's been long enough for the city to grow and change and transform.

they LOVE people. no matter where they go, they immerse themself in the lives of others, fascinated to see the way mortals learn and grow and make mistakes and leave a legacy. they dance with them, they tell stories with them, they tumble into beds with them.

every so often, they meet a particularly interesting one-- a savant of the generation, a genius, or a true humanitarian, or someone with enough ambition to strike the gods down from their seats. the pred will become this person's lover, their confidant, their muse. and they'll reveal their immortal nature to the sweet, brilliant, fascinating little human.

and, almost unfailingly, the mortal who has won their favour will ask if it's possible for them to share their immortality.

the pred will often play coy, piquing their mortal's interest even more fervently.

well, there is one way. it's wonderful. you would become so much more. but it's also painful. it... changes you in more ways than you know. i would only share this with someone i truly trusted.

and the mortal is so eager to prove their love, to prove they're trustworthy, that they're worth bringing into the aeons.

i would love nothing more than for you to join me.

the pred helps plan their delectable little artist's "last day as a mortal." the best day of their life, the day in which they finish their magnum opus, and prepare to become part of something much greater.

it's almost time. i trust you. do you trust me?

and the mortal nods...

hours later, the pred's immaculate, ravenous belly is gurgling and squeezing playfully around its squirming prisoner, hard at work processing the new hefty meal.

the pred is amorously massaging their massive gut, trying to get their tasty lover to just relax, it's okay, let it happen. you wanted to be part of something greater, and I wanted you to be part of ME. and now we both get what we want! shh, shh, i know it's scary, but i'm right here, i'm all around you, and i'll keep you safe... soon, nothing will be able to touch you, no blades, no disease nor famine, not even time itself... i couldn't leave you behind to waste away, to fall to dust, you're too (uuurp) beautiful... and delicious... just stop squirming and let my belly take you apart~

of course, they planned this perfectly, they've had practice. no one will disturb them this evening, or the next day. they fall asleep still rubbing their great, bulging tummy, trying to soothe their softening meal.

the next morning, their gut is about halfway done redistributing their lover to their hips, chest, thighs, and waistline. they happily pinch and squeeze the new layer of soft, warm pudge on their body, delighted to see their lover taking so well to their new position in life. they spend the day in bed, celebrating their lover's "immortality".

then, in the evening, they sigh, squeeze into their traveling clothes, and set out. it's time to move on to the next city.

[d4rk-x-w0lf-17]

honestly intermission being canon does absolute wonders for v's character because it actually MAKES HER A CHARACTER

lemme give you some backstory: i've had VERY mixed feelings about v since i first watched MD last year because of how she was handled. her being unhinged and psychotic was perfectly fine with me, it was just in ep 3 where they suddenly decided to have HER of all characters to be the one that knows way more about what's going on but intentionally leaves everyone else in the dark made me very confused and conflicted. even at the end of ep 6 where she sacrificed herself, i didn't feel anything because v didn't FEEL like a character, just a bunch of tropes and archetypes rolled into a drone that doesn't get used for anything other than going against uzi (and n)

anyway here's why i REALLY like v in intermission

instead of getting shut down by n or doing something on her own, she actually gets n to agree with her on a plan by appealing to n's soft spot for uzi. over the episode you can see v getting a bit softer with uzi and most likely also doesn't want to hurt/kill her. it isn't until shit hits the fan that v truly takes matters into her own hands; deep down v knows it isn't uzi's fault but she's just so sick and tired of the solver fucking with her that she just wants it GONE. the line that really stuck with me was when v went off on n: "because you're so insistent on fixing her" and v confessing to n that uzi is HIS friend, not hers and n is all she has, and she doesn't want to lose that. that is such great stuff because is FINALLY gives us material from v's perspective

v seeing herself in uzi of when she was first taken over by the solver (in my personal hc, v was the first victim of the solver), this is so good and furthering my agenda that ep 5 should've been from v's pov 😭

v just......being soft with uzi. we needed this. we NEEDED v and uzi interactions before ep 6 (and technically 8 now). v at first viewing uzi as a lost cause to someone who's probably just as traumatized as she is and wanting to help

finally the magnum opus, v openly admitting to faking everything which was then revealed to be CANON in ep 8. she's traumatized, she's broken, she's scared, she's TIRED. the psycho and diva personality that she puts up is just that, a front. a way to cope. but she's had that front up for so long that she doesn't know how to act normally again

TLDR; intermission should be canon and it actually made me like v

[pinkcannibal]

Are you comfortable writing a breeding/heat kink fic, by chance? Maybe a fem!student reader is some type of supernatural creature that experiences heat cycles that's triggered by the touch of a viable mate which happens to be Marilyn Thornhill who she has a massive crush on. Perhaps the reader gets permission to opt out of her classes because of her heat but feeling restless one night, reader goes out to Professor Thornhill's classroom when she thinks Marilyn won't be there to just soak in her mate's scent and presence but Marilyn walks in because she's feeling restless with worry for reader who has been exempt from classes because of some mysterious "illness" that no one will tell her what it is and the reader wouldn't answer the dorm room door when she went to check on her and she's just so worried but she sees the panicked reader just standing there in her classroom and she runs straight to her. And smut occurs.

If you're not comfortable writing this, it's totally ok! Just love your soft mommy!dom Marilyn Thornhill x desperate needy reader fics!

a/n ill be real with you this is my magnum opus. this is my first time writing heat cycles or anything alluding to breeding kink so be pls be kind im learning skdksd but its helping me flex my writing muscles. thanks for the request! hope you like! feedback means the world to me btw <3

-

title: soul-bound

pairings: marilyn thornhill x reader, (werewolf!femreader)

tw/warnings: heavy smut, heat cycles, soulmate dynamic, fingering, face riding, marking, slight breeding kink, praise kink, slight use of 'puppy' as a petname, slight strap idolisation, soft!dom marilyn thornhill, bottom!reader

word count: 5,180

-

Your heat cycle comes two weeks earlier than planned, and it throws you out of equilibrium almost immediately, so jarring and intense that when you wake up and turn in bed, shifting beneath the sheets; you gasp at the realisation. 

God, and you should be used to it by now, this comes with the territory of who you are. Werewolf heat cycles are so common at Nevermore there’s an entire sex-ed class about it, but jesus fuck does yours like to be irregular about it- and you can already tell it’s going to be intense.  

You sit up in bed, face flush at how your heart rate picks up and your stomach warms and your thighs press together – how when you breathe in everything is so fucking heightened its overwhelming.  

You can smell the trees outside, Yoko’s perfume on her clothes, the shower drain, the cool Summer air, the wooden floors of your dorm, the- 

Oh God. Fuck. Is that...? 

You're helpless to the whimper that comes out of you. 

You totally forgot Miss Thornhill visited you yesterday, gifting you another one of her plants with that knee weakening smile and adorable scrunch of her nose. An iris this time, purple and freshly tended to. You have to clamp your palm over your mouth and nose, because Marilyn’s scent is everywhere around it.  

It has you shutting your eyes, a whine begging to cry from your lips and it’s making you needy in a way you’ve never felt before, just her smell enough for you to feel that familiar submissive haze blanket your brain.  

Your eyes water, because there’s a particular type of cruel torture in having a mate you can never touch, or taste, or please. You need Marilyn’s approval, her hands, her voice; to fill every part of you until you feel whole again. And having that just out of reach? It makes you feel...fuck it makes you feel incomplete.  

You suddenly remember that time Enid confided in you about Wednesday, how being so close yet so far away from someone hurts. 

“It sucks knowing you’ll be a lone wolf forever. Trust me, I know.” 

You don’t realise how fast your breathing is, close to a pathetic type of pant, until your alarm goes off and you startle.  

You’re suddenly thankful Yoko has left already, you can’t imagine how awkward it would be to have a vampire witness this. How desperate you are, how just at the thought of Miss Thornhill has pheromones bleeding from you, something not even the strongest wolf could ignore.  

Jesus, you may as well have a neon sign pointed to your heart saying I need my mate to breed me so bad it’s pathetic. 

You decide right then and there, going to Marilyn’s class would be a death wish, you’d probably drop to your knees as soon as you saw her with your mouth open, begging for her fingers with wide doe eyes as you squirmed. And she’d look at you, she’d be so tender when she makes love to you and fucks you and tells you “You’re so pretty, sweet girl. Such a pretty pup for me, aren’t you?” 

Oh, god.  

The thought has slick rushing to your centre, and you blush so hard at the idea that you have to physically stop yourself from shaking. You whine, immediately grabbing your phone and opening your school emails. You submit a form to Principle Weems, explaining your situation as quickly as possible because your hands are sweating and shaking.  

As always, she’s incredibly understanding, receiving these kinds of forms every so often. You’re exempt from classes for the week duration of the cycle, and just knowing you still have five days of this is fucking torture.  

You know you can’t have the full satisfaction of Marilyn looking after you, breeding you (that thought makes you even wetter as you throb) but it’s worse to know you can’t even nest and ride out the wave of it in your mate's scent. You have nothing of Miss Thornhill’s besides the flower, and sometimes thoughts like these make you flush with shame. 

She doesn’t even know you feel this way, or that she is this to you. And fuck, would she even want you? Accept you? You can’t think of anything worse as a werewolf than the rejection from a mate, what do you do if presented with that? Who are you without them?  

Because sometimes you swear Miss Thornhill recognises the compatibility, you swear her head tilts and she breathes you subtly in when you smile at her and tuck your hair behind your ear. How she softens when you’re near, how sometimes when she passes by your desk and leans down to you, her hand finds your lower back protectively, like in her own way she was telling everyone in your life you’re hers. 

One time, you bumped into her at Jericho and she fixed her glasses and when she noticed it was you, she beamed, and you honest to god swooned at how happy she was to see you. And Marilyn’s hand squeezed your bicep in greeting, a little too intensely to be normal, and your eyes glazed over in utter devotion. 

The thoughts make you feel small, like you could cry, so you curl back under your covers and try and hang onto the lingering trace of her on the iris, squeezing your eyes shut with need. 

- 

It becomes downright unbearable on day three.  

Three days is all you could hack, it’s almost as if you’ve come down with a fever; you’re hot and feverish and panting, almost fucking bed ridden because of how bad it is. Having a mate who hasn’t claimed you is maddening, and you’re realising very quickly you don’t know how you’re going to survive more of this.  

Yoko couldn’t stay for long, opting to room with Divina for the week. You toss and turn and groan into the sheets, slamming your fists down against your mattress and feeling tears burn the back of your eyelids because you dreamt Marilyn kissed you, bit down on the space between your neck and shoulder and covered you in her scent.  

You can’t take it anymore.  

You get up, tossing on a sleep shirt and shorts hastily over your bralette and underwear. You blush, knowing this is pathetic and sad but maybe, just maybe, if you walk into her classroom it’ll help. Because the iris doesn’t do it anymore and you need something stronger, the submissive part of your werewolf brain is constantly just howling in need now.  

It’s almost midnight, and you hope with all of your heart her room is unlocked. 

When you make it to the conservatory, you try the handle and sigh in relief at it opening. You don’t have long to dwell on how pathetic you feel, because- 

The wave of calm that hits you takes your breath away. You stumble a little, catching yourself on a nearby desk and closing your eyes on a groan; you breathe in deep, the scent of Miss Thornhill overwhelms you, has your knees weak and heart beating from your chest. Fluttering your eyes open, you walk further in, to her desk and you bite your lip because her green coat is just there on her chair. 

You swallow thickly at how it all immediately has your chest yearning for her, when you reach out and grab the fabric you allow yourself a moment to feel guilty, and embarrassed, blushing the whole way down to your neck.  

Then you bring it up to your nose and inhale and- 

You whine, high pitched and like siren call.  

You shut your eyes immediately at everything of her flooding your senses. She smells earthy, like her plants and rain, but there is something underneath it that is so sweet; so distinct to the smell of a bonded mate. Marilyn’s is like liquorice, black liquorice, it’s heady and warm and makes you want to be good. The slick that gathers between your thighs is immediate, has you flushing with need and shifting on the spot.  

The switch is instant, and you realise fuck, oh god, maybe coming here wasn’t as smart as you thought.  

You drop into subspace like an anvil, scrunching up her coat in your fingers and closer against your nose and you collapse against her desk, leaning back against it. You’re shivering, you know, because your wolf is begging to be claimed, to be bred, to be looked after and held and marked by your mate. 

You don’t get a moment to calm it down before the conservatory doors open again.  

You startle, looking up, you lower the coat from your mouth and nose and have two seconds to register just who walked in.  

Marilyn shuts the door behind her, and you blush red across your cheeks caught like a deer in headlights when she turns.  

You have to hold yourself up on her desk with your free hand because now that she’s here you can’t- oh god you can’t breathe. And your body feels like it’s going to melt into the floor.  

The other woman jumps a little too, not expecting anyone as she places her hand to her chest and breathes out, shutting her eyes briefly.  

“God, you startled me, sweetie.” Marilyn chuckles slightly, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. It’s awfully late, why are you-” 

But Miss Thornhill’s gaze immediately shifts to concern, because your eyes are watering at her just being near you. The other woman mistakes your flushed cheeks and shaking body for fear, and it’s almost instant how she parts her lips in worry and rushes to you.  

You gasp, widening your eyes and pressing closer to the desk. You bite your lip to stop the desperate whimper wanting to escape. She takes your biceps in her hands, squeezes softly, and Marilyn ducks her head slightly and her hazel eyes are saying talk to me, please, and you are powerless to whatever she wants from you in this state.  

“Oh, dear. Honey.” She begins carefully, and you swoon at how protective she sounds. Marilyn reaches up and tucks a stray piece of your hair behind your ear and it opens the floodgates, you swallow thickly and choke as you try and speak.  

She’s so close. Any closer and you’re going to fall to your knees. Marilyn then briefly fixes her glasses in a rare display of bashfulness. “I just, well. I got so worried when you didn’t show up for class. It’s very uncharacteristic of you. Are you...are you okay?” 

“I-” You part your lips to answer, voice cracking on your desperation. Marilyn notices your reaction, softening.  

“I just, I’m s-sorry, I came here looking for you because, I...” You flounder for an excuse, and it’s then Miss Thornhill notices her coat clutched against your stomach.  

You flush, following her gaze as she parts her lips in surprise.  

Miss Thornhill softens, laughing lightly as she fixes her glasses. “You came here to steal my jacket?”  

Marilyn teases, and it breaks the tension a little but all it does is make you feel mortified, so you duck your head and stutter, trying not to whimper as you shove her coat into her hands and move to leave.  

Miss Thornhill blinks in surprise to you at the action, you’ve never dismissed her so easily, and she frowns instantly in concern as she places her jacket on her desk.  

“Please, just-” You don’t know what you’re trying to say, she’s just so close and you need her.  

“I'm okay. I promise. I need to go, I-” Your voice cracks, because your heat is flaring at her proximity and how her protective concern is making it worse. You turn to leave, but her warm hand is taking you by the bicep and halting you softly. 

You whimper, tugging as tears spring to your eyes in your desperation. “Marilyn, please I-” 

“Sweetheart,” She starts, shaking her head softly in confusion.

“What’s wrong? Tell me. Let me help.” Marilyn pleads softly, and you sink, deeper and deeper into where you yearn to be.  

“You’re shaking.” The other woman breathes out, eyes so caring as she then pulls you closer and back to her; then she tips over the line between you and you fall. 

Because she brings you into a hug, and you gasp so hard when her arms wrap around you and you feel her chest press up against yours; and your nose is shoved into her neck, red hair spilling all around you.

Her scent is overwhelming, and you don’t have any strength left in you, none at all as you breathe in deep, circle your arms around her too, and moan softly into her skin. 

Your senses pick up how her breath hitches, how blood rushes to her cheeks at the sound. She pulls back, and you feel your stomach flip at how her hazel eyes have darkened. Her lips part, like she was weighing what to say.  

“Honey,” Marilyn starts, and there’s this tone in her voice you can’t say no to. It has your eyes flickering to her lips, desperate and doe eyed. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

Yes, you think. Yes, I’ll do anything for you.  

Before you can think better of it, the words spring from your lips at her gentle, warning command.  

“M’in heat.” You slur, throat bobbing as you shyly look to her neck instead of her eyes because as much as your inner wolf wants to do what Marilyn says, you’re heating up in shame and embarrassment.  

Marilyn’s eyes narrow in confusion. “You’re in...?”  

Then, her expression eases into realisation. “Oh.” 

You shut your eyes briefly, reopening them and seeing her toss a questioning look to her coat on her desk. “But you were...with my...?”

You watch Miss Thornhill put the pieces together in her mind, how it slowly dawns on her and you almost start begging for her, because Marilyn softens into this sympathetic look, breathing out an “Oh, sweet girl.” that you swallow thickly at.  

Then her hand cups your cheek, and you deflate with need, nuzzle into her palm with a mewl. Your head goes foggy with arousal, your heat is flaring and flaring you’re drenched with slick at this point as you look up, and Marilyn’s eyes are so warm and dark and enraptured, for you.  

You have no idea how you got here, how this is real; but you aren’t questioning it, you aren’t running away from this, ever. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, voice cracking in places. “I know it shouldn’t be you but it is and I can’t-I couldn’t do anything about it.” You say.  

“I need you,” You whine out, desperate and a little pleading. “I need you and it hurts Mari, please. Please.” 

“God,” The other woman breathes out, and you can hear how fast her heart beat is, how her eyes dilate and how Marilyn’s scent changes all together. It’s so musky, sweet and alluring, you want to be covered in it.  

Her hand falls to your hips, thumbs riding up a little underneath your sleep shirt and you’re suddenly hyper aware how short your shorts are, because when she moves forwards you feel the material of her jumpsuit rub against your thighs, how the top buttons of her blouse are open baring warm, pale skin. You gasp softly as she traps you against her desk. 

“You’re in heat...for me?” She says, like she needed clarification, to know that if she kisses you how far it’ll go.  

And you almost buckle at how gravelly her voice has dipped. You nod, fingers white knuckling on the edge of her desk behind you.  

“You.” Is what you breathe out in confirmation, voice shaking. There’s no one else. You want to say. It’ll only ever be you.  

Miss Thornhill bites her bottom lip lightly, tilting her head, and your eyes zero in on the movement.  

“Do you need me to look after you, baby?” Marilyn asks, and fuck, it’s all degrading and soft and kind and you want her to always call you these names. You whine, almost breaking your neck with how fast you nod.  

“Yes, please. Please.” You beg, you’re way past caring how whiny you sound. Your brain is just flooded with breed me, I’m yours. Only yours. And you know she’s only human and that’s another cruel twist of fate for you, but you don’t care. It’ll be enough. She’s enough. 

As if reading your mind, Marilyn's fingers at your hips dip into the waistband of your shorts, playing with the hem as she sits patiently and waits for your consent. “What will help? Tell me how you need me, sweetie.” 

Your desperate eyes flick down to her lips.

“K-Kiss me,” You say, barely above a whisper, and before you can beg her and get on your knees just for her to touch you, Miss Thornhill softens, leaning close and taking your lips in hers.  

It’s fucking fireworks, something inside of you just, clicks into place. You immediately reach up, grabbing for a lifeline, fisting her red hair in your hands and she groans. Her tongue is inside your mouth before you can gasp, and she tastes exactly how she smells; that sweet earthy scent you gulp down.  

You deepen it, pulling her so close your hips knock and it's so hungry because you’re throbbing, you think you might die if she doesn’t fuck you right now.  

You buck, push your body closer, Marilyn’s breath is hitching and she’s making these soft noises that your werewolf preens at.  

You’re feverish and slick and you don’t even think when you grab for her hand at your hip, urging her beneath the waistband of your shorts with this desperate grunt, that turns into a mewl as Marilyn breaks the kiss and breathes against your lips.  

“Fuck,” You watch her throat bob, an unrestrained desire in her brown eyes with how you whine for her, force her inside you and- 

You buckle forwards, resting your forehead on her shoulder as you gasp, shut your eyes in pure euphoria as she enters you with two fingers, slipping so easily inside your slick that the sensation makes Marilyn gasp.  

You clutch to her shoulders, moaning into her neck, and the constant anxiety from your heat is melting away in your mates' arms, you feel so right and full and you need more, you know she can’t knot you but the thought is enough to make you sink on her fingers harder, making Miss Thornhill whimper. 

“J-Jesus, baby,” She moans, high pitched as she curls her fingers inside you, forearm straining with the effort.  

“You’re so wet. This is all for me?” She asks, in awe, like she couldn’t believe you’re real. 

When you look up, you nod, panting as you ride her. As the desk keeps squeaking with her thrusts. As you gulp down her scent mixing with yours and then you pick up on the thick, overwhelming scent of her arousal and your entire body shakes.  

You hold to her forearm, just to feel the muscles flexing with her effort, and it makes you soak her fingers even more when you feel the definition under your fingers from where her sleeves are rolled up.  

Then she’s gently urging you harder against the desk, enough that you hop up onto the edge so she can slot between your spread legs. The new angle has you gasping, eyes watering in arousal.  

“Mari,” You whine out, slurred and hazy. Marilyn is enamoured by you, not slowing down her thrusts as you near your peak; her thumb rubs deep and hard at your hardened clit, enough for you to see stars but you can’t come. You don’t have your dominant’s permission. You can’t until she marks you until she scents you in her own way.  

She kisses you again, making you chase her lips when she pulls back to speak.  

“Oh, sweetheart,” She moans. “What do you need? I’m here. Tell me.” Marilyn says, as desperate as you are for you to come.  

Her lips part, eyes suddenly vulnerable as she fucks you. “This...this is new for me too.” She admits, and you whimper lightly as you cup her cheek and buck against her fingers. “Is this enough? Do you need more, baby? Is that it?” 

You nod, hard and fast, it makes her soften as you gasp out. “M-More. Deeper too, please.” 

Then, Marilyn’s adding a third finger and your eyes roll to the back of your head.  

The guttural moan that leaves you shocks you, has Miss Thornhill whimpering against your ear. You fall forwards again, needing to rub to her neck and scent her skin. You slur into her neck that ‘More, s’good, feels, fuck-” and Marilyn’s heart beat is loud beneath her neck.  

You’re so close, you’re so close but you know you’re missing that one thing you need. Pulling back, doe eyed and needy, you shyly pant against her lips.  

“Mari. Mari. N-Need you to-” Your breath hitches, because Marilyn curls impossibly deeper and has you seeing white.  

“I need you to mark me.” You rush out, breathless and dripping down her fingers as you swallow thickly and wait for her reply.  

Marilyn opens her mouth in shock, eyes blinking back to you beneath her glasses. You whine, because she’s slowed down at your words and she’s blushing and you’re so, so in love with her.  

“Darling, but-” She shakes her head softly, sending you a tender, searching look. “I thought that was for- but I’m not your...” 

Mate. 

You bite your lip, shuffling closer and grinding against her fingers almost to make a point and Marilyn shuts her eyes on a tiny moan when you kiss her again, breathe against her mouth that- 

“You are.” You say, and the truth of that statement has this needy noise leave your lips. “You are and I-” You swallow, watch Marilyn’s hazel eyes shine back to you in both shock, love, and adoration.  

“I need you to mark me. Make me come. Make me yours.” You plead, and the other woman is kissing you again with a fever that you gasp at.  

Her soft, deep thrusts start again and her lips trail from your mouth to your neck and you bare it to her on instinct, tendon tight against the skin of your neck and you feel Marilyn softly, tenderly, kiss down the area to where she pulls the neckline of your shirt away, exposing your collarbone as she fucks you against her desk and you suddenly want to cry at the display.  

And then- 

Marilyn’s teeth sink into your skin, at the area where your shoulder meets your neck. Her canines bite down on the muscle and you moan so deep it turns into a sob. You clutch to her back, her claim so sudden and raw and overwhelming that your heart thuds, hard and fast in your chest for her. You don’t know if she knows how much this is for you, how sacred it is for a werewolf. 

You suddenly want even more of her, an impossible amount, you want her knot or her fingers in your mouth or her strap. 

“Oh, god-” You moan out, tears springing to your eyes at the pleasure and the pain and the feeling flooding you. You feel Miss Thornhill pull back in worry, stuttering in concern, like she hurt you.  

“Fuck, baby, I’m sorry. Was that-?” 

“No!” You rush out to say, desperate to have her teeth back where she was.  

“A-Again,” You shyly say, watching Marilyn’s eyes darken and her lips part in surprise. “Want it again, please, don’t stop. It’s so good. Feels-” 

Marilyn groans, thigh meeting the thrusts of her hands to fuck you harder and you rock faster against the sensation, choking on a high-pitched whimper. Her tone drops, head tilted as she takes the sight of you in, like she was devouring you.  

“Feels what, puppy?” She says innocently, and that word makes you sink, speechless as the subspace takes you over.  

“Oh,” Marilyn softens, degrading and gentle all the same. Her eyes glint back to you, gloating in this new found reaction. “You like it when I call you puppy, sweet girl?” She mocks. 

You start to sob, so close to coming it’s hurting. You nod, biting your lip and feeling her hit so deep it takes the breath from your lungs. Marilyn presses ever closer, kissing you and tasting your tongue and biting hard to your bottom lip. 

“Come for me, puppy.” She moans, breathless at the sight of you. “Come all over my fingers, now honey.” Marilyn demands. “Come for me like the good girl you are.” 

It crashes into you, gushing onto her fingers as your orgasm takes over. The slick dripping down your thighs and her fingers is thick and heady, you moan and mewl into her neck, feel your walls clench around her and your claiming bite burns and throbs. 

She tenderly helps you ride it out, hushing you sweetly as you pant into her neck and nuzzle into her sweat slicked skin. You clutch her so close, nose the area, bathing in her scent and smiling so wide at the feeling and fuck, before you realise it your throat rumbles on a purr.  

You’re purring. 

You blush, hoping she didn’t notice, and relax in relief when Marilyn simply kisses the side of your head, down to your cheek, and your lips and jawline. Her thrusts slow down, pulling out and making your breath hitch.  

“You okay?” She gently murmurs, making you pull back and soften.  

You nod, breathing out, lovestruck and dizzy as you smile shyly, huff on a laugh. “Y-Yeah. More than okay. Perfect.” 

Marilyn’s eyes warm, lips quirking up on this tender smile aimed at you and suddenly you want to make her feel good, that part of you made only for the other woman yearns for it. You shift on her desk at the instant need, and Marilyn takes that as a sign that you want her fingers taken out.  

She furrows her brows, softly apologises, slowly pulling out and you whimper at not feeling filled by her anymore. Then you glance down and see her fingers coated in your slick, your heat, and your throat croaks on a whine as you look to them needily.  

Marilyn tilts her head at your reaction, blushing when she realises what you want.  

“Fuck, you want my fingers, sweetie?” She asks, voice husky and dipped in arousal. You nod, not even thinking twice as you obediently open your mouth for her fingers coated in your cum, eyes looking up to her beneath your wet eyelashes.  

Your doe eyed look has the other woman’s heart beat pick up, and as Miss Thornhill rests two of her fingers at your bottom lip, pulling it down gently, her eyes are an inky blackness. Your tongue darts out to taste yourself, eyes closing on a groan as you lean forwards and take them fully in your mouth.  

You wrap your lips around her digits, sucking and moaning in ecstasy and it has you throbbing again when you open your eyes, see the effect of you deep throating Marilyn’s fingers has on her. She starts to pump softly, completely and utterly enraptured by you and when you choke lightly, eyes watering, it breaks something inside of you.  

You let go of her fingers with a moan and hop down from the desk, flipping your bodies as Marilyn gasps and blinks in surprise to you. She steadies herself on the edge of it, palms clenching the wood between her fingers. 

“Darling girl, what are y-” 

Then you sink to your knees and Marilyn parts her lips, breath hitching at the sight. You look up to her, leaning back on your haunches and biting your lip in need. You can’t even wait for permission, just immediately unbuckling her belt around the jumpsuit and reaching up to her hips.  

Marilyn moans softly at the sight, lets you unbutton it down, down, until she shrugs out of the top half and it’s pooling at her mid-thigh; and her chest is heaving against the restraints of her black bra.   The plane of her stomach rises and falls with her breaths, the soft skin of her lightly defined abs is so alluring, you want to lick and bite and suck at the swell of her ribcage.  

She shyly fixes her glasses and shifts on the spot, hand coming down to run through your hair softly and you suddenly want to make her feel as loved as you do.  

The smell of her arousal has you whimpering, has you just losing all sense of control as you press forwards, pulling down the waistband of her underwear that are soaked; tongue darting out to taste her as Marilyn gasps. The other woman chokes on this moan, fist tightening in your hair making you mewl into her as she rides your face.  

You suck her clit, moan when she startles at the sensation and bucks harder into you and your hands come to her thighs, holding her in place against your mouth and tongue.  

“Oh my god,” Miss Thornhill pants out, when you chance a look at her, eye lids fluttering open briefly, you see the defined angle of her jawline as she tilts her head back and her throat bobs. 

“Baby, you-” Her words break off into a needy whine, head tilting back down as she watches you go down on her. “There, right there, don’t stop. That’s it. Jesus, such a good girl.” 

The praise has you preening, a little dumbed down and blushing as you work your mouth harder against her. Here, you think of wanting her strap, and almost come at the thought of sucking the length and taking her like this – you wonder if she’d come at the sight of your lips wrapped around her cock. 

Marilyn tastes so good, you want to always be drenched in this, down to your chin and neck, like you are now.  

Then, her hand in your hair tugs, fisting, and she suddenly comes against your mouth with a breathless gasp, your name on her lips moaned over and over.  

You swallow her, moaning at the taste, and you pull back when she urges you to with her hand in your hair. You obediently sit back, still kneeling, looking up to your mate with starry eyes and her come on your lips and Marilyn’s chest rises and falls; like she realises just exactly what you both have started.  

Then she pulls you up to her, a little desperately, and kisses you; her warm tongue is in your mouth and both of your arousals mingle together in the kiss.  

It tastes like ambrosia, like honey, something you’ve been needing, searching for, your whole fucking life.  

-

[imperator-titus]

Ghost from the Past [Part 12]

(Prev)[Part 11] (Next)[Part 13] [Master Post]

This one is for the horny fuckers reading this story. If you don't want to read smut (very valid of you), you can probably stop after Eletha and Astarion talk to the mirror image. If you want to read right up to the point of explicit descriptions of sex, stop after Gale gets Eletha to join them on the bed. You can come back after the last linebreak. (I tried to put in content warning tags and the post didn't show up in the tags, I apologize to people who have those tags blocked.)

Honestly, this might be my magnum opus of smut, I don't think I've ever written something this complex before. I even had a friend read it over to make sure it can be followed, which is not something I normally do.

Please enjoy!

“You good?” Eletha asked Gale as they sat around the fire the next morning. “You don’t have to come if you’re not feeling so hot.”

“With you, I feel most hot,” Gale responded, unknowingly smirking as he expertly flipped their morning sausage. Then it occurred to him what he just said. “I mean- That is to say- I feel fine. Thank you. I think it would be prudent of me to accompany you.”

She gave him a little smile. “I appreciate it.”

“You look like hell,” Astarion said to Gale as he walked up, taking the seat next to him opposite Eletha.

“Not as bad as you,” Eletha spat back defensively. Gale merely shook his head, not dignifying the insult with a response.

Astarion crossed his arms and pouted. “Well, there’s nothing to eat out here. And you have been stingy with your neck.”

A look crossed her face that said she didn’t think about that. Her demeanor became apologetic. “Oh. Right. I have some time.”

In the privacy of his tent, Eletha took off her shirt and neatly set it aside. 

The wind was knocked out of her chest as Astarion’s body collided with hers and slammed her forward onto the hard ground. She opened her mouth to complain, only to grunt as Astarion’s fangs sank into her neck. He wrestled her a bit, like an animal dominating a rival or immobilizing its prey.

It wasn’t the pain that surprised her, but the ferocity with which he feasted on her. The sounds echoing her ears weren’t his normal pleased sighs. When his teeth left her flesh, she half-expected them to come down somewhere else to rip her apart.

“Hells, I-” Astarion stammered, shaking with the realization of what he’d just done.

Eletha remained face-down, a soft sound escaping her lips as she tried to speak.

“Stop. Stop. Don’t try to talk,” he pleaded in a panicked whisper as he dug through his things for a potion. Potions he’d been stealing from her. Potions she’d let him take.

Astarion flipped her over, the sight of her blood tantalizing yet horrifying. The two large punctures on her neck were accompanied by two smaller ones where his lower canines had sunk in too, as well as indentations of his other teeth. Desperately, he pulled out the potion’s stopper with those same teeth and, holding her head up, he slowly tipped the contents into her mouth.

The bleeding stopped. The wounds started to knit back together. After a moment, her eyes fluttered open and she looked around, disoriented.

Holding her tightly to him, he cried into her hair, “I am so sorry.”

“Can’t breathe,” she mumbled into his shoulder. Quickly, he let go. Eletha rubbed the healing bite wound. “I’m fine. Just achy.”

“I… I don’t know what came over me…” Astarion tried to explain, distraught. “I couldn’t stop… I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I nearly did.”

Eletha leaned forward.

Astarion licked the blood off his lips.

Smack! Her head met his in a swift strike.

“Let’s get out of this fucking place so it doesn’t happen again,” Eletha grumbled as she put on her shirt and Astarion rubbed the pain out of his forehead.

“You okay?” Shadowheart asked, clearly spying all the dried blood stuck to Eletha’s neck and chest.

“He always was a messy eater.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With Halsin’s little spirit friend taken care of and after Astarion’s slip of feral hunger, Eletha suggested that they split up to deal with things more quickly. The next morning, Eletha, Karlach, Gale, and Astarion would investigate Moonrise while the others tied up loose ends and investigated the Sharran Temple further for Shadowheart’s sake.

Eletha’s cold-hearted mask really helped them infiltrate the Absolute’s stronghold with little effort required.

After satisfying their curiosity and freeing the prisoners, Gale excused himself shortly after they arrived at Last Light Inn. While they made sure the Harpers would allow the freed prisoners to stay, he wanted to rush back to camp and make sure dinner would be ready for everyone. They would need their strength in the next few days if they were going to deal with Ketheric Thorm and the Absolute’s army.

“He’s been actin’ weird, yeah?” Karlach asked the others once he was out of earshot.

“Gale’s always been weird, no?” Astarion answered, hands on his hips.

“Mystra did tell him to find the heart of the Absolute and-” Eletha made a sound like a bomb detonating while making a hand gesture that simulated Gale’s magic orb exploding out of his chest.

“We’re not going to let him do that, right?” Karlach pleaded, her eyes big and wet, her hands clasped, her knees bent in supplication.

“Of course not. If we can help it.”

On the way back, Eletha and Astarion talked about the feelings the blood merchant dug up.

“If it makes you feel any better, refusing was pretty in-line with how you used to be,” she told him as he expressed a small amount of remorse for giving up power for just a moment of discomfort. “You’re much too precious to do such a thing.”

“Hm. I don’t always want to remember who I was. But I like the way you speak about it sometimes. Even when you’re angry with him, there is a fondness in your voice.” If only the sky was clear and there were stars in the sky. If only their surroundings weren’t so twisted and dreary. This would be a nice little walk together. “If I called you ‘Lori’, what did you call me?”

“Oh, silly things. Like ‘Princeling’ or ‘Your Highness.’” Astarion smiled to himself. “But you were always my ‘Star,’ even when we were small. It’s hard to say it angrily.”

“It’s odd, thinking you took care of me once.”

“Once? I took care of you for thirty years, now I’m taking care of you again. I used to pick you up and carry you across puddles. I had to be your sparring partner because I wouldn’t hit you too hard.”

“I get the idea.” A moment passed in silence as they walked. “I don’t want to go back. To the Dales, I mean. Not unless it’s to slaughter the lot of them.”

Eletha let out a big sigh. “It’s fine if you want to go back. I don’t have to see them, just find them.”

“They tortured you. Stop making excuses for them,” he growled at her. “Imagine if I said ‘let’s leave Cazador alone, he wasn’t that bad.’ You’d think I lost my mind!”

“I just don’t want you to regret passing up the chance because of me.”

“Our families imprisoned you in your own body and none of the others did anything about it. Good riddance.” More gently he added, “You are the only family I need now.”

“And Gale?”

“What about him?” Her knowing gaze made him roll his eyes. “Fine. I suppose we can have a pet.”

“Speaking of… Where is Gale?” Eletha asked, noting that he wasn’t by the fire with the others.

“Maybe he’s in his tent. Crying.” He said it flippantly, but Astarion immediately made a beeline for Gale’s tent. Not hungry, Eletha followed.

“Good evening! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale,” the projection outside the wizard’s tent told them genially.

“The hells is this?” Astarion asked Eletha, indicating the projection with a confused little sneer.

“You are speaking to a mere projection of Gale. His appearance, his voice, and a certain measure of his personality-” the projection did a little pose, crossing his body with one curled hand while raising up the elbow of the other, “reconstituted in this case to play as emissary and usher.

“Would you care to join him? What little I could glean from the portion of his mind that is open to me, it is a matter most urgent.”

“Both of us?” Eletha asked while Astarion held back giggles behind his hand.

“This message was meant for the both of you. I even have instructions for if only one of you was present,” the projection explained. “Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him.”

“We shouldn’t keep him waiting,” Astarion told her with a cheeky little grin.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she answered with a good-natured shake of her head.

“I do like that. Could you do it some more?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

As they followed the glowing path, their surroundings changed into something much more pleasant.

“Someone fancies his illusions,” Eletha said quietly, admiring Gale’s handiwork. 

“I love this time of night,” Gale said wistfully as they approached, staring up at the sky. “There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break.

“The cradle of eternity. The timelessness of lovers. That most beautiful of fantasies.”

“Are you quite all right? Do you have a fever or something?” Astarion asked in annoyance, not really impressed with Gale’s undoubtedly carefully-chosen words. Eletha placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him before sitting down beside Gale.

“I will be, soon. I am perhaps just one hard day away from being without any troubles at all.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Astarion commanded, warning Gale with a stern finger and a furrowed brow.

“This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder…” Gale continued without dignifying Astarion’s threat with a response. His eyes, open and honest, regarded him and then Eletha in turn. “... And with company to match.”

“Stop talking like that!” Astarion’s voice had venom in it, but because they knew him so well, they could hear the emotional wobble in it. “Throwing your life away for Mystra is the daftest thing you’ve ever done. I won’t let you do it.”

Gale rose to his feet. “Death is assured. Mystra’s forgiveness is not.”

“Didn’t you hear her when Lae’zel was ready to die for a lie?” Astarion asked, waving a hand at Eletha, who stood again in case she needed to break the two apart. “Gods don’t care about us. Mystra threw you away, even before your little Karsite experiment. She should be asking for your forgiveness.”

“Astarion, leave him alone,” Eletha pleaded, touching him on the shoulder. He rolled it out of her touch and shot her a glare.

“Tell him. Tell him he shouldn’t do it!”

“I…” Eletha looked from Astarion to Gale, whose glower softened just a bit to meet her eyes. “I don’t want you to…”

“It wasn’t my intention to upset you,” Gale told them both quite earnestly, a self-chastising tone in his voice. Their reactions hurt. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“Then what did you intend, Gale?” Astarion asked cattily, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“This is all so difficult to navigate… Harder than any game of chess…” Astarion stopped pouting and started nervously playing with his hands. His eyes went from angry to… scared. “If things were different, if we were home, I’d have taken the time to do things properly. And maybe I’d understand a little better what properly means, in this case…

“That is to say… I’ve grown very fond of you. Both of you. This has been so very complicated, but-”

Astarion grabbed Gale’s head and smashed their lips together. While they were in their heated kiss, Eletha tried to sneak away, a cheekily little smile on her face. Astarion’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the tip of her ear.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, Gale’s arms loosely wrapped around him.

“I really appreciate being a witness to your union, but maybe I don’t need to be here for the whole thing?”

“What part of both did you not understand?”

“No, I understood it.” Gale’s face fell and Eletha stammered, her cheeks turning red. “It’s just- I’m very fond of you too, sweetling, it’s just-”

“I understand,” Gale said, resigning himself to her answer. Astarion gave him an admonishing soft smack on the face.

“No,” he told him, like a master telling his dog to drop something disgusting. Then he turned to Eletha and jabbed a finger at her face. “No. We had this talk. You deserve this. Just say yes like you want to.”

“I…” Her eyes flicked between their faces and she had to look at her feet in embarrassment. “If this is going where I think it’s going…”

“A hedonistic pile of limbs, I’m hoping,” Astarion said devilishly, raising a leg coquettishly.

“Hush. Let her speak,” Gale admonished, sparing him a playful smirk. 

“It’s just that… The last time I crawled into bed with someone, I broke down crying in the middle and went on a three-month bender,” she eventually admitted. “You two should get to have fun. I’m fine. I promise.”

“If there’s any crying, we stop. At least, if that isn’t the game we’re playing. Right, darling?” Astarion looked to Gale, who was giving Eletha his sympathetic puppy eyes, and with a touch of his finger to his jaw, turned his face to him. 

“Of course,” Gale answered quizzically, as if the question was so ludicrous that the thought never entered his mind. Detaching himself from Astarion, Gale took Eletha’s hand in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I'm scared too. I don't really know how to do this. But I want to try. With you.”

How could she say no?

She could, of course. If she really wanted to, she could walk away. If it started to go poorly, she could stop.

“We deserve some fun,” Eletha said to herself as much as them. Gale leaned down and met her lips in a kiss, one hand supporting the small of her back. This time he was much more sure of himself.

Astarion huffed playfully. “Now, now, don't hog her all to yourself.”

“I'm afraid I got carried away,” Gale said with a blushing grin. “It's just as well. I wanted to change the illusion to something much more impressive.”

“Oh, Bhin, you don't need to impress us,” Eletha reassured him. Quietly Astarion disagreed with a little “yes he does.”

“We’re not gods.” Once more Astarion argued, muttering, “Speak for yourself.”

The way Gale looked at her made Eletha’s breath catch. Astarion just believed that finally, someone worshiped him the way he deserved. 

“I beg to differ.”

“So we’ve moved on to begging now? I can work with that.” Eletha glared at Astarion, willing him to shut up, but Gale only laughed.

“Maybe another time, when we’ve figured out how this works.”

“Don't encourage him,” she whispered.

“Just summon us a nice comfy bed.”

As Gale focused on setting the stage, Astarion sauntered up to Eletha with a thirsty smirk on his lips. Her heartbeat quickened as he started undoing her armor with expert dexterity. Needing something to do, she offered him the same help.

“Don't be shy,” he cooed, amused by her inability to look at him and the bright flush blooming on her cheeks.

“I'm not,” she insisted petulantly. He palmed the slight heft of her breast through her shirt. When she stepped away from his touch, he chuckled darkly. “You’re not a good liar.”

Annoyed with him, which wasn't new for her at all, Eletha approached Gale, who'd been watching them for a moment with keen interest. As if it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen, she ran her hands over the sumptuous velvet of his shirt before trying to take it off. He laughed as their height difference became a problem and he had to remove it the rest of the way. 

“It's okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too,” Gale told her sweetly before leaning down for another kiss. 

Astarion came up behind her and placed kisses and playful bites on her shoulder and neck before pushing them both onto the bed. Eletha glared at him over her shoulder. “You're such a brat.”

As if to prove her point, he flicked her away so he could work on undoing Gale’s trousers. Gale rose up on his elbows and the two exchanged passionate kisses while Eletha removed the rest of her clothes by herself. 

Astarion moved from Gale’s lips to his neck, marking his way with kisses and nips while his hands combed through his chest hair, gently squeezing the plush swell of his pecs. Astarion traveled down the wizard’s torso, lavishing it with his mouth and fingers. 

Gale managed to come to his senses and held out a hand to Eletha, beckoning her onto the bed with a smile. “What are you doing over there by yourself?”

“Looked like you two were having fun, I didn’t want to interrupt.” Despite her protestations, she knelt on the edge of the bed within his reach. 

His fingers touched her skin softly, so softly she had to refrain from twitching away as it tickled. Tracing the scars that littered her body, he was enamored by her. In return, she ran her fingers all along his arm and through his hair, gazing into his eyes deeply.

A shocked little moan escaped his lips as Astarion stopped teasing him and finally wrapped his cold wet mouth around his cock. Under his tongue, he could feel a rush of blood make it that much harder.

Astarion had to find some way to not shut off, just like how Eletha had to find a way to not psyche herself out or Gale needed to figure out how to not treat them like Mystra. It would creep in from time to time, their little internal battles. 

Astarion pictured the look on Eletha’s face as she’d sucked the life out of him, how proud and interested she was in making him feel so good. So he focused on that. 

When Gale’s other hand tangled itself in his curls, he smirked around the hot throbbing cock in his mouth, knowing that he was doing a good job.

Of course, Astarion always took pride in his work. He was very good, after all. He readily boasted about it. But it would occur to him that he never really took pride in it as he was working. 

This was different. This was real. He wanted to do this over and over again, to learn exactly what drove them insane, how much he could tease before they had no choice but to cry out his name in ecstacy.

Red eyes flicked up to see if Gale was watching his performance, only to have Eletha’s ass take up most of the view as she straddled the wizard’s face.

“Come here,” he’d whispered without Astarion noticing, his voice husky with desire. A deft flick of his fingers summoned a mage hand that helped him guide her while his other hand was busy reassuring Astarion that he was appreciating his attention.

New to this sort of thing, even after all the years she’d lived, Eletha gingerly swung her leg over his body and knelt above him so she could see only his eyes when she looked down between her breasts and over the slight bump at the bottom of her stomach. 

As the mage hand caressed her neck, Gale placed his free hand on her thigh. It traveled up slowly, tracing the peak of her hip bone before rounding back to the curve of her backside. He gave it a few gentle squeezes while the mage hand came down over her breasts, mimicking the same motion.

Then he moved his hand so that he could lightly run a finger up the inside of her thigh, causing her to tremble. Delicately, he found the start of her slit and pressed his middle finger against it, not so insistent as to part it, but enough that he could feel her body react to his touch.

Gale’s mouth fell open in a soft moan and he could feel her shudder as his hot breath washed over her skin. His fingertip brushed up and down a few times. He watched as his mage hand ran trails down her stomach and when it paid special attention to her lower belly, she broke through the haze of pleasure his fingers were creating to smack the magical hand aside.

“Don’t be like that,” Astarion chided, his slicked hand giving Gale’s cock a few more languid strokes as he approached the head of the bed. “I think it’s delicious.”

Kneeling in front of her, he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Gale’s finger finally pressed into her folds and became slick as it tested how receptive she'd become from his light caresses. 

Eletha’s mouth opened with a surprised gasp and Astarion took this opportunity to slip in his tongue. The thought of mixing their spit and the taste of Gale’s cock sent a thrill up all their spines.

Eletha found balance by holding on to Astarion’s shoulder as her other hand trailed down his torso. He let out a soft little whimper of pleasure against her lips as her fingers wrapped around his half-hard cock.

Meanwhile, Gale slid his finger slowly in and out of her, pressing against different points to find the right spot to focus his attention. As a second finger joined the war effort, Eletha’s mouth pressed into a tight line against Astarion’s lips as she emitted a strained hum. He almost asked if she was okay when she rolled her hips down into the source of pleasure again. 

Using his nose to reveal her clit, Gale breathed in her scent with a satisfied groan before swiping the swollen bundle of nerves with his hot wet tongue. He knew that he was doing a good job as she tightened around his fingers and her juices filled his mouth. 

All the while, she stroked Astarion’s needy cock with one hand and clung to him with the other as his attention on her neck threatened to leave bruises. After a few minutes, Eletha had to lift herself up on shuddering thighs.

“Is he that good, my love?” Astarion asked her teasingly with a smug curl to his words, holding her up so Gale could slip out from underneath her. 

Eletha came back to her senses and pushed Astarion back to fall amongst the pillows that Gale had conjured. Eyes full of desire, voice hoarse from restraining her own pleasure, she said, “Why don't you try for yourself?”

“I would enjoy returning the favor.” Gale wiped his face clean with the back of his arm, gazing at Astarion with the same hungry longing that he offered Eletha.

“I wouldn't dream of saying no,” Astarion replied with a smirk, parting his knees as an invitation. 

Gale slid between his legs, crawling like a panther stalking its prey. Starting at the knee, he kissed and bit a trail up his inner thigh until he found his still-hard cock. 

Astarion’s spindly fingers wove into the gentle waves of Gale’s hair as his head bobbed up and down. Letting his own head fall back, giving his neck a chance to relax, he focused on the sensation of Gale’s masterful tongue swirling and flicking and swiping. 

His sensitive ears twitched at the guttural sounds of him throating his cock. Gale gasped for air and groaned hungrily as Eletha joined in the fun. 

Rolling his hips to be perpendicular to the bed, she enthusiastically lapped-up the mix of juices leaking from his cock. His tongue and fingers had pushed away her uncertainties and now she felt almost drunk. 

Every shift of her legs and every pulse of his cock in her mouth made her whine and shudder. Gale spared a hand to place on her head, play with her ears, while she clawed at his soft peachy ass.

Astarion lifted Gale’s head up with a gentle tug of his hair and the blissful look on the wizard’s face made his cock twitch with excitement. “You’re doing a marvelous job, beautiful, but I’d like to try something else.”

“Whatever you desire,” Gale responded in a husky voice.

Arranging them like furniture, Astarion set the next scene. 

Sitting up, Eletha was able to more easily swallow Gale’s cock. Kneeling in front of her, he had no choice but to cry out in a needy groan as he felt himself slide into her throat. His hands stroked her face, running along the line of her jaw, or holding the back of her head. Eventually, he was rolling his hips forward, very slightly at first and then picking up the pace, fucking her mouth.

Meanwhile, Astarion was between her legs, slipping two fingers into her greedy cunt without resistance while his tongue attacked her clit. He could feel her squeeze involuntarily as his lips sucked and his tongue lapped. 

When she spread her legs, giving him better access, he managed to add a third finger. Even in his position, even with the slutty sounds Gale was making, Astarion could hear Eletha moan. Gale’s legs shuddered as the sound undoubtedly sent pulses of pleasure up his cock, lodged in her throat.

Astarion was definitely excited, this was definitely fun, but he seemed to be the only one capable of a coherent thought at the moment. For now, this would have to be his show.

Ceasing his ministrations, he encouraged the two of them to decouple. “Sorry to ruin the mood, but this next bit is going to require some… consideration.”

“Y-yes… That is probably wise…” Gale agreed, trying to catch his breath. Eletha, collapsed into the pillows, only managed a weak nod.

“Being the god that I am, I could do this well into the morning. I am assuming you” he pointed to Gale with a finger after licking it clean “have some sort of magical stamina.”

“Oh yes.” Gale smirked confidently. “I built up a well of endurance that allows me to climax multiple times, with only a short refractory period, allowing me to-”

“Yes, yes, we get it,” Astarion interrupted hastily, even though that was some tantalizing information… “That leaves us with the princess over there.”

Eletha managed to open her eyes. Slightly embarrassed, she said, “I’ve always been sort of… one-and-done.”

“You poor thing,” Astarion cooed sympathetically, offering her a cheeky pout. Pretending to give it some thought, he asked, “So, why don’t you two have a little moment, hm?”

“I’m surprised, I assumed that you would want to go first…” Gale said, not exactly arguing, but he had thought about this at some length.

“I’m actually being very selfish. If this goes sideways, I don’t want to be the one to start it,” he explained flippantly, adding in a little shrug.

Actually, he was a bit scared, but he wouldn’t admit that. Scared of what it might do to him, or to her, to be wrapped around each other again.

Gale chuckled softly in the back of his throat, a knowing half-cocked smile on his lips as he looked from Astarion to Eletha. With gentle but strong hands, he grabbed her by the waist and brought her down out of the pillows so Astarion could have a better view.

Kneeling between her legs, he kissed his way up her body. Finding her breasts with his mouth, he gave a nipple a few experimenting sucks and flicks of his tongue. Her rough hands wandered over his sides, his back, his arms. 

Gale took a moment to gaze into her eyes, shrinking the world to just the two of them. Eletha’s breath hitched. To be looked at in such a way…

As if understanding her thoughts, he lightly kissed her lips. She responded with more insistence. Gale lowered himself so that his impatient cock could rest against her wet cunt. With gentle rolls of his hips, he rubbed against her clit while they kissed sloppily, slicking his cock in the process.

Cock poised to enter her, he broke away to gaze down at her once more. Clearly, but sweetly, he told her, “I love you.”

This seemed to shock her a little. Gale was thankful he said it, made it obvious, and that her response was, “I love you, too.”

Locking their lips together, Gale finally slid into her, interlocking their bodies. His moan intermingled with her gasp as he felt her tighten and she felt the sudden fullness that his cock brought her. They stayed like that for a few heartbeats, kissing passionately as they gave themselves and each other a moment for their hearts to calm down.

Astarion watched with an equal mix of curiosity, hunger, and jealousy. The sickly-sweet way Gale made sure his partner was ready, the longing looks in their eyes, the honesty of their words… It was more than he ever could have imagined for himself. Would they do that for him, when it was his turn? Was he truly more than just a thing to be used?

On the other hand… Despite the fact that he’d insisted Gale go first, Astarion still felt a flare of anger to see someone else enjoy and please his former love. Eletha belonged to him.

His hand slipped down to his cock and started stroking it with a languid pace, ghosting over the shaft and tightening his grip as he passed over the head. Self-pleasuring had never been of interest to him, he was always too busy pleasing others to keep them distracted. But watching the two created a rare mood in him. Speeding up to keep time with Gale’s thrusts, he imagined how it would feel when it was his turn. Gale certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

Gale lifted his head and sat back on his haunches as Astarion approached. The vampire took hold of his bearded face by the chin and smashed their lips together in a mess of open-mouthed kisses. He pulled away with a hungry smirk on his face before leaning down to playfully bite at Eletha’s pale breast, leaving a slight mark that claimed her. 

“Perhaps we should give our princess a little rest?” he suggested, giving her clit a little stroke that made both Gale and Eletha shudder, thus proving his point.

Eletha sat up on one elbow to bring her mouth around Astarion’s cock. While she eagerly licked and swallowed, her other hand worked Gale’s shaft, slick and thick from pounding her throbbing cunt. 

Kneeling on either side of her, Gale and Astarion battled for dominance with their mouths. Gale intertwined their fingers, reassuring him with light strokes of his thumb. Eletha switched between their cocks, one gripped in each hand.

The two broke away, Gale panting. He smirked. “I would offer you my neck, but I’m afraid the taste of my blood would sour the mood.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.” Leaning back, Astarion released Eletha from her duties. He swept back what little hair she managed to let grow and with a gentle smile that would have surprised him if he could see it, he asked, “Would you like to be lost in one another again, my love?”

When this all started, Eletha was worried that just being around them would bring her to tears. She felt reassured when nervousness was replaced with elation, lust and desire warming her whole body. But the ultimate test was always this moment, when the really old memories would replay themselves in real time.

Eletha looked up at Astarion and, at the sound of his loving words so honest and open, she could feel her chest tighten.

“I want to be lost with you,” she answered, forcing back the involuntary rise of fear.

With him. Him, not the young man she lost.

Gale graciously sat back to observe, admiring the way the two looked at each other. He couldn’t decide if it was the unsureness of new love or the deep connection of something old and true. Either way, it was enviable in its beauty and passion.

Astarion first buried his face in her neck, taking in the scent of her sweat mixed with Gale’s. Feeling her quickened pulse just below the skin, he wanted to bite into her, not only to drink, but to make them as whole as possible.

Eletha wove her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and whispered against his ear, “I love you, my precious Star.”

Astarion’s voice wavered as he whispered back, “I love you too.”

With one smooth stroke, he entered her, eliciting a small gasp from her lips. Despite just accommodating someone of Gale’s size, she felt like a perfect fit.

He expected to employ his usual suave moves. Instead, he rutted and groaned, clawing and clutching at her, desperate to crawl inside her and die all over again. The effort of resisting the urge to either sob or go blank almost drove him crazy. It finally hit him that this wasn’t about Cazador or survival. This was a give-and-take, not just give.

It was a little too much and, after a few minutes of kissing and thrusting, he had to remove himself. 

When he leaned back, Gale was behind him, his strong arms grabbing his waist before snaking up to his chest, peppering his neck with bites and kisses all the while. 

A light chuckle brushed against Astarion’s ear before the wizard asked, “Might I make a suggestion?”

“Do tell,” Astarion answered sumptuously, slipping his protective sex-god mask on for just a little bit. Just long enough to come down from the emotional overcharge. 

Gale offered the instructions with his deep resonant voice, his cock pressed into the cleft of Astarion’s ass. 

Astarion laughed suggestively, spying Eletha out of the corner of his eye as he stroked Gale’s beard idly. “Do you think our little pet can handle any more?”

“Surely she has more strength than that?” Gale answered, sending her a smoldering smirk as his hands wandered over Astarion’s pale, lean body.

Eletha looked to the sky like a dying man resigning himself to his fate before closing her eyes. After offering up a silent prayer and strengthening her resolve, she said, “I am yours.”

“Oooh,” Astarion purred. “Our fearless leader at our mercy? What a treat.”

With Eletha kneeling on the bed, her hands on its edge, Gale stood in front of her while Astarion took position behind her. 

Taking hold of her slim backside, Astarion spread her glistening cunt with his thumbs. Placing his cock in the space he made, he bucked his hips, rubbing against her and slicking himself again at the same time.

At the side of the bed, Eletha opened her mouth to accept Gale’s cock once more. With gentle strokes, he pet her head and offered her his admiration with his wide smile. “You’re doing a marvelous job. You look so beautiful.”

Gale slid a hand over her back towards Astarion. After slipping into her once more and giving her a few good thrusts to establish a rhythm, he held her ass with one hand while the other met Gale’s, the tips of their fingers playing with each other. If they could have managed to lean toward one another without awkwardness, they would’ve interlocked their lips instead.

Saliva coated Gale’s cock so thickly that it dripped down his balls only to be lapped up by her tongue when she took him down to the base. Being wedged between them, Gale’s reassuring words in her ears, Astarion’s hand occasionally giving her ass a light smack of encouragement, her cunt was so wet that it squelched and gushed with every thrust.

An unrestrained moan rose up from Astarion’s chest and out his throat as he desperately increased his pace. A similar sound, with a little more base, came from Gale. 

Later, Eletha would be impressed at their timing, but in the moment, all she felt was the pulse of their cocks as Astarion filled her cunt and Gale her throat. Her breath came out in ragged gasps as they pulled out. 

“Stay there,” Gale bid her. Astarion sat to the side, panting, and watched as Gale took his place behind her. Sitting with his knees pressed into the bed, he spread her open and watched, nearly breathless, as Astarion’s cum started to drip out. 

Not letting a drop go to waste, he wrapped his lips around the entire mess, fucking her with his tongue to lap up the precious liquid. Eletha shuddered and mewed and tried to get away, but his strong hands on her backside kept them connected. 

When he could find no more of his prize, he let her go, and she collapsed onto her side.

“You’re not done yet, are you, sweetheart?” Astarion asked, pulling playfully on her ankle.

“I need a minute,” she answered, breathless, closing her eyes to keep the world from spinning.

“I suppose I can allow you to rest a moment,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a little scoff. More devilishly, he added, “But don’t think you’re getting out of here before the grand finale.”

“Don’t tease her so much,” Gale chided him with a smile and a tap on the nose.

Eletha had to vacate the bed as the two started to play-wrestle and curled up on a comfortable sofa that Gale had, at some point, thought it prudent to summon out of thin air. There she watched them fight and bicker, all in good fun, until Gale was on his stomach and Astarion’s face was pressed in between the wizard’s plump ass-cheeks.

Kneading them like dough, he worked his tongue around the quivering ring of nerves nestled there and occasionally gave the sensitive skin behind his balls a firm, wet swipe. It wasn’t long before Gale was whimpering, hiding his face in a pillow and rutting a little into the bed.

“P-please,” he begged pathetically, his toes curling to ease some of the tension coursing through his body.

“If you insist.” Astarion stuck a finger in his mouth to coat it with his spit when a jar poofed into existence next to him. 

He picked it up and unscrewed the lid to find a semi-liquid substance. It was odorless, tasteless, and had a consistency much like the juices he’d just wiped off his cock. No matter how much he rubbed it between his finger and thumb, this lubricant kept its slick nature instead of becoming tacky and irritating. 

“Wizards. What else are they hiding?”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” Gale called out in annoyance, wiggling his ass insistently, rubbing his impatient cock against the bed.. 

He was so fun when he was annoying. Probably how Eletha looked at him for all those years.

Astarion coated his fingers in the magical stuff and carefully pressed one into Gale’s needy hole. He watched as the wizard shuddered from his touch and his cock pulsed with a sudden orgasm. Gale was so lost in bliss that he didn’t care that he was rutting around in his own cum. Groaning with wild abandon, working on instinct, he came again as Astarion worked a second finger into his ass.

“What a delightful magic trick. Come for me some more, my sweet. You make such lovely sounds,” Astarion commanded sweetly, excited by Gale’s pliance under his touch. The poor man’s cock pumped out two more loads before he decided that he was ready for his turn.

While Astarion readied himself, Gale broke through the haze and reached out a bidding hand to Eletha. Astarion had assumed she was comatose on the sofa, exhausted from being worked by their tireless bodies. But she attentively got to her feet and approached the bed. 

Gently, Gale took hold of her wrist and tugged her forward. With a little guidance, and a magic word to clean up the mess he’d made, Gale had her lie underneath him in such a way that he could easily kiss her.

“I missed you,” he told her with a fond smile, his voice husky and deep.

“How could you miss me with everything going on over here?” Eletha asked, chuckling softly, shy from his little touches. Even Astarion getting her feet out of the way felt intimate. Gale lingered over her, like a brave protector shielding her from harm with his body.

“I’m quite capable of thinking of you both.”

Gale’s head snapped back with an animalistic growl of pleasure as Astarion’s cock finally slid into him. Even the rocking of their bodies from the vampire’s precise thrusts sent shivers of excitement up Eletha’s body.

Gale’s mouth attacked every part of her he could reach as if it might be the only thing standing between him and death. As he panted in ecstasy over her body, his saliva dripped down onto her face and into her awaiting mouth. 

She could feel his hot cum coat her stomach and before it could cool, Gale guided her hand to collect it on her fingers and then brought the hand to his mouth so he could clean it with his tongue. Eletha could feel her cunt throb at the sight and he didn’t need to ask her again to feed him his own cum.

Astarion grabbed Gale by his hair and pulled him back a little. Then he held him by the throat and pulled him back further, until Astarion could press his forehead into the wizard’s sweat-slicked back. Feeling his own intense climax approach, he took hold of Gale’s cock and stroked it in time to his thrusts. 

Gale placed a gentle hand on his forearm and the simple intimate touch drove Astarion over the edge. He groaned like a feral animal as he filled Gale’s ass with his cum. With an orgasm much more powerful than the last few, Gale released his own on Eletha’s stomach. Thick strings of hot white cum even made it as far as her breasts and throat. As soon as Astarion released him from his grip and cock, Gale got on his hands and knees once more to lick her skin clean. Cum-drunk, he collapsed on top of her, covering her with his sweaty bulk.

Astarion wanted to say something witty, but he was still coming down from a high he didn’t know he was capable of achieving. And after watching Gale work, he had to come to terms with the fact that maybe he did have some things to learn…

“I want you to ride me,” Gale told Eletha when he could manage the words. His hand slipped down between her legs and ran over her swollen clit before sinking into her sloppy cunt. In her ear, he explained the fantasy he’d been playing out in his head for a while now. “Use me. I want to see how beautiful you are when you come on my cock.”

She had to come up with an answer, but she was too distracted to come up with something a little sexier than just, “Okay.”

That was enough for Gale and with one deft movement, he swapped their positions. He teased her with the head of his cock, gathering her juices as he ran it through her slit, rubbing her clit, just barely pressing it into her waiting entrance. 

Feeling left out, Astarion knelt behind her. Having cleaned himself off, he pressed his chest against her back, his dexterous hands wandering her body. Her pulse thrummed like a war drum under the skin of her neck, calling out to him. With his nose behind her ear, he whispered, “May I taste you? Please?”

Eletha managed a hum and a nod, trying to fight back her orgasm just a little longer. Much more gently, more sensually, Astarion pierced the delicate flesh of her neck and let her blood flow into his mouth. Its vitalic zest washed over his tongue and he moaned in the back of his throat, making Eletha shudder. 

Finally lowering herself onto Gale’s eager cock, she whined as it spread her open. Appreciably thicker from his heightened excitement, it stretched her cunt even further than before. Ignoring his own instructions for just a moment, Gale thrust up into her, eliciting a cry of pleasure.

As she started fucking herself, bouncing on Gale’s lap and rolling her hips, Astarion settled one hand on her hip and the other over her clit. Once he understood her rhythm, he slipped his fingers to either side of the bundle of nerves, pressing it between them, and started stroking, fingers curling and straightening in time with her thrusts.

Eletha flung her head back, making beautiful music as her cunt squeezed Gale’s cock so hard that he was briefly concerned that she might actually do some damage. He groaned in abject pleasure anyway. 

After all the teasing, cock-sucking, and thrusting, she couldn’t last long. Astarion’s voice in her ear didn’t help one bit.

“Show us how much you love us. Come for us, my love,” he commanded her sweetly, eyeing Gale from over her shoulder.

Astarion’s hand slipped from her clit as she pitched forward. Hands clutching Gale’s strong shoulders, Eletha ground her hips into his with all her strength, rubbing her throbbing clit against him while his cock stroked a very sensitive spot inside her. Gale forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could watch her face as she climaxed and he filled her cunt with a seemingly endless supply of cum. There was so much of it that it gushed out with his thrusts, even with how closely they were joined.

On shaky legs, she let him slip out and rolled to the side, collapsing on her back, covered in sweat, unable to control her breathing. As Gale found her hand with his own, Astarion decided to take this opportunity to move between her legs. With a hungry look and a lick of his lips, he purred, “My, what a mess we’ve made of you, my sweet.”

Without further ado, he swiped his tongue through her cunt, catching the cum dripping out. She shuddered and whimpered as he feasted on the delicious stuff, fucking her with his skilled tongue in the process. With one last twitch, she pleaded, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“You did wonderfully,” Gale reassured her as Astarion honored her request and moved on to licking Gale’s cock clean. The wizard pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before sitting up. Running a dry hand through the vampire’s curls, he chided playfully, “Haven’t had enough, hm?”

“That looked fun. I want my turn,” Astarion replied, lips curled into a smirk as Gale’s cock managed to come to life in his lubricated hand once more.

Without any arguments, Astarion sat in Gale’s lap, draping his arms over each shoulder as he started a battle of lips and tongues. Feeling ready, Astarion lowered himself onto Gale’s slick cock and felt his own twitch as he moaned against the other’s mouth.

Gale wrapped one arm around Astarion’s waist and snaked the other up his back to hold on to his shoulder, helping set the pace. His ego set aside, Astarion buried his face in Gale’s shoulder as his hips bucked and rolled, finding the perfect stroke to hit just the right places.

“That’s right,” Gale whispered in his ear, so calm and collected for someone who just came so hard that, if Mystra hadn’t stabilized the magic bomb in his chest, they and everything within several miles would’ve been turned to dust. “That’s a good boy. You’re doing so well.”

“Mmm, Gale,” he whimpered, biting off the urge to tell him to shut up. His words of encouragement actually made him feel even better, despite thinking it would distract him. 

Mewling, he bounced on Gale’s cock harder, desperate for a final release. Tears slipped from his eyes as he cried out, clutching Gale for dear life as he painted his lover’s torso with cum. Gale grunted softly as he spent his final orgasm in the fluttering comfort of the vampire’s insides.

“Oh no,” Gale breathed in shock, suddenly aware that Astarion was trying to not outright weep. Then he noticed Eletha clutching a pillow over her face to muffle the sounds she was making. Gale made gentle shushing noises as he started to take charge of the situation. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re alright.”

With a flick of his hand and a few practiced words, everything and everyone was made clean and fresh. Lying between them on his back, Gale gathered Astarion to one side and Eletha to the other, cradling their heads in the dip between his shoulder and chest. A warm, soft blanket materialized and floated down, covering them with a reassuring weight.

“I’m sorry,” Eletha managed to say eventually. “I got overwhelmed.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” Gale told her gently, placing a kiss on top of her head. Astarion said nothing, but he could feel his cold hand rest on Eletha’s arm, both of them lying across Gale’s stomach. “What matters is that we all enjoyed ourselves.”

In response, the two of them nuzzled his chest.

That was good, because if either of them had expressed regret, it would be Gale’s turn to break down into tears. For now, smothered in their collective embrace, he could rest easy.

After a few minutes, Eletha’s stomach growled. It was honestly monstrous in its tone and intensity.

She flushed and buried her face in Gale’s armpit.

“You forgot to eat, didn’t you?” Gale asked with a chuckle, amused but a little annoyed, but only because he didn’t like it when people neglected their basic needs.

“How could I?” Eletha argued, removing herself from the pile of limbs so she could find her clothes. “With your cute little mirror image telling me you had something urgent to talk about.”

“I suppose I should have added an instruction to advise you to at least have a snack…” Gale scratched his beard, mulling the oversight.

Gale tried to sit up, only to be pressed back into the bed. Astarion put more of his body on top of Gale’s, trapping him. “Just a little longer.”

“If that’s what you want,” Gale answered, letting the tension out of his body. 

Eletha got dressed and gave them both a kiss before rushing off back towards camp. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

No one was around when she got there, so she settled by the fire and served herself. Ravenous, she took a few quick bites before slowing down to appreciate Gale’s good work.

“We were a little worried about you,” Halsin remarked with a smile as he approached. Eletha blushed and looked away, embarrassed. “I could not help but hear some of your more unrestrained sounds.”

“Corellon strike me dead, I don’t know if I can face the others if they heard. It’s one thing if they think they know what was going on…” She stuffed some of the stew in her mouth and regretted it as her sore throat had trouble swallowing it down.

“You were gone for quite a while, but you have returned alone…”

“I was starving.” Her voice was hoarse and she chuckled, which didn’t help. “I’m afraid of what tomorrow brings. I might not be able to walk.”

Halsin beamed, one of his genial laughs making her stomach flip. “Satisfaction suits you. You are practically glowing.”

“Satisfied? I suppose I am.”

“It is okay to admit that you are not, if that is the case.”

“It’s just… a lot. And I have a lot of questions. Like, will that ever happen again? How often can it happen without it killing me?” Halsin placed a hand on her shoulder and muttered some healing words. She sighed in relief.

“I can imagine that it’s a difficult situation, given your past and future. I regret to say that I do not have any good advice. My fancies have always been… fleeting.”

“It’s kind of you to try. I’m sure we’ll figure it out, if we don’t die in some spectacular fashion…”

“Oak Father preserve us.” Adding to his prayer, he said teasingly, “Including your poor insides.”

“Yeah. I think we might have to give ourselves tomorrow off.” 

She glanced up at the sky, considering its impenetrable darkness. 

“Besides, I’m feeling a little… hot under the collar, so to speak.”

[crucifiedfaerie]

Gibson Girl | Pt. 3 ༉₊˚✧

Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

➴ Summary: After you reach your breaking point, Kylo does something you never expected to see from him.

➴ Part One | Part Two

➴ Word Count: 2.4k

➴ Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dom!kylo, slowburn, soft!kylo, we are so back!!, crylo ren, an insurmountable amount of angst (swearing, yelling, crying, kylo's internal suffering, brief mention of death but nothing happens), lots of fluff, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, oral f!receiving, overstimulation, devoted!gentle!kylo, watch as i describe cunnilingus in excruciating detail for 5 paragraphs) typos probably

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )

A/N: guys, gibson girl is officially complete. im actually so proud of how the entire fic turned out and i just wanna say thank you for the love you've given it. <3 it genuinely made me wanna keep writing and i hope you stick around for my future works, because i have so many good ideas in store. anyways, enjoy the third and final part of gibson girl. this is by far my favorite chapter of this trilogy, i was giggling, kicking my feet, and possibly crying while writing this... dare i say that this chapter is my magnum opus.

You approached his door, ears ringing from your rapid heart rate and the electric hum of the hallway lights. You wiped the sweat from your palms on your pants and let out a deep breath.

Before you could even think about knocking, the door shot open and you were forcefully pulled inside by two large, leather clad hands.

Kylo gripped your waist hard, and kicked the door shut with his boot. You yelped as he pushed you against it, hitting the back of your head on the durasteel.

He leant down, the cold metal of his mask grazed the fading bruise on your jaw, sending goosebumps crawling across your skin. "Gods, I've waited two weeks to feel you again. Im so glad to be back." Kylo purred, his modulator crackling in your ear. He reached up to begin unbuttoning your shirt. He only made it past the first button before the anger rose inside you.

You brought your hands up to his chest, pushing him off of you. "What the FUCK Kylo!" You yelled at him, feeling the tears prick your eyes. Surprisingly, he didn't stop you, taking a step away from you and tilting his head ever so slightly as if he were confused, which only made you angrier.

You were past your breaking point. "What is wrong with you?! You invite me here, whisper sweet nothings in my ear, then all of a sudden you hate fuck me and kick me out like I'm the problem?!" You sobbed and were practically screaming at him, you didn't care if he got mad, you needed to say this. "And now you invite me back acting like it never happened, wanting to- to what? Hate fuck me again?? You make NO sense, Kylo! It's like you're two different people!" You paused, breathing heavily and collecting yourself a bit before continuing. "And you wanna know the fuck of it all? You haven't even kissed me- gods!- You cant even face me. You hide behind that mask and hurt me like I'm some pet you love to hate." You spoke calmly now, the anger subsiding into a strange mix of sadness and apathy.

The apathy, however, was short lived. You had never snapped at Kylo like this before and he was the most feared man in the galaxy after all. The images of the many ways he could kill you flashed before your eyes. A lightsaber through the abdomen. Force choking the life out of you until your neck snapped. Slamming you into a wall until every bone in your body was shattered. You shut your eyes tightly and braced for impact, but it never came.

Each word you yelled at him had chipped a piece off his emotionless façade, and Kylo thought his heart might shatter along with it. The killing blow was how you stood before him terrified, shaking, waiting for him to lash out and strike you out of rage. He wasn't weak for loving you, he was weak for hurting you and he knew he couldn't do that to you anymore, not now... not ever. He felt something- someone inside of himself he hadn't felt in years, a man he thought he had killed, a man who he had almost forgotten the name of.

You only opened your eyes when you heard the click and hiss of his helmet. When he pulled it off you were met with his concerned, brown eyes. You stared at him in shock and awe, taking in every detail of him. The way his long, dark hair fell around his face, his perfect aquiline nose, the beauty marks that scattered like stars across his already beautiful face, the scar that began just above his brow, trailing down his face and disappearing below the neckline of his dark uniform.

Kylo dropped his helmet to the floor carelessly, the metallic clang loud enough for someone down the hall to hear. He pulled his gloves off quickly before throwing them to the ground and rushing over to you, taking your face into his hands and crashing his lips into yours.

His kiss was electric and full of desperation. As if he were a man lost in the deserts of Tattooine and you were Oasis East, Kylo drank you up feverishly. He was warm and tasted divine, like cinnamon and smoke.

When he pulled away, you both breathed heavily, lungs searching for air. "I don't hate you. Please don't say that." Kylo's voice broke, he was almost pleading with you, his eyes searching your face as if he were trying to get you to understand how he felt about you without him having to admit it out loud.

"Kylo... I-"

Suddenly your feet were off the floor, being carried over his shoulder to his bedroom once again, just like the first night he invited you here. Only this time you didn't feel like a bug caught in a spiders web. You felt safe. Needed.

As Kylo carried you, you kicked your shoes off carelessly, letting them fall to the floor of the hallway and you heard him breathe out a small laugh.

He sat you down on the bed and you noticed how he now handled you ever so gently, as if you were a precious, fragile thing he didn't dare risk breaking.

Kylo knelt in front of you and unbuttoned your shirt, taking extra care with each button before he slid it off of you. He gently looped his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them both off in one go, leaving you completely naked.

He peppered kisses down your thigh before standing up, taking a step back to admire you, his dark eyes filled with adoration. With him being maskless, you became hyper aware of your nakedness. Your face flushed pink and you looked at the floor.

What he did next though, was something you weren't expecting. You watched in awe as Kylo kicked off his boots before shedding his cloak, his outer robes, his inner robes, his belt, then began methodically working at his shirt.

Oh my gods- why do you wear so many layers?

He shut his eyes and his mouth tightened into a thin line, as if he were stifling a laugh from hearing your thought. Kylo sighed, "Hush, its very cold on Starkiller, you know." He laughed softly as he pulled his shirt off, exposing the scars that littered his perfect frame.

He unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them off before making quick work of his underwear. There Kylo was, standing before you completely naked, looking down at you with soft eyes. Not a creature in a mask, stalking you like prey, but a man carrying nothing but adoration and desire.

He stepped forward before leaning down and kissing you again, pushing you flat onto his bed. His hands explored every inch of your body, bare skin touching yours and for the first time you felt like equals. Two living, breathing human beings who needed one another desperately.

Kylo's hands had found home tangled in your hair and the sound of him moaning into your mouth was heavenly. He pulled away, hovering above you, his hair falling around his face like a dark curtain. "Please. Please let me show you how much you mean to me, little star." He was practically begging, his eyes searching yours. This was a version of Kylo you didn't know existed. It was as if he had been completely stripped of his coldness and apathy, left only with warmth and compassion.

You nodded, and he trailed his kisses down your neck and bare chest, his soft lips grazing your nipple, causing you to let out a soft whine. He smiled and continued down your stomach and hip, to your thighs. Each kiss sent warm tingles down your spine.

Kylo lifted your legs over his shoulders and kissed down your thigh, stopping at your heat. His cool breath made you shiver. Before you could form even a single thought, his face was buried between your legs.

The way he lapped you up like spring water and how his tongue grazed over your clit made you crumble into a whining mess. Your fingers weaved through his dark locks and you pulled instinctually, causing him to moan against your cunt.

He was knelt before you like a sinner at the altar, worshipping his god and silently begging for forgiveness through your pleasure.

"Mhm Fuck- Kylo I- Stop you're gonna make m-me cum." You whined. He knew you couldn't hold on for much longer, and he didn't care, your sweet moans only inspired him to go faster. He hummed something unintelligible, a wordless approval for you to let go.

Your thighs trembled around his face as your body unraveled on his mouth. The pleasure he gave you was divine, euphoric, and your vision clouded as he rode you through your high.

He pulled away from you panting, his mouth and nose damp from your juices. You felt the bed dip as he situated himself above you, his hips between your legs. He kissed you deeply and you could taste yourself on his tongue, tangy and sweet like summer fruit.

He pulled away "Gods- I've waited what feels like forever to do that." He whispered.

You held his face in your hands and kissed him again. "Please Kylo I need you." You wrapped your legs around his waist.

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in slowly as he held you. He paused when he bottomed out, allowing you a moment to adjust to the size of his cock. You moaned loudly, still sensitive from the wonders he performed on you with his mouth.

Kylo began to move, slowly increasing the pace of his thrusts but still taking extra care not to be too rough. He looked down at you, his pupils blown with lust and love. He studied your face and how your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Kylo wanted to savor every detail of this moment, no dark visors obscuring his vision of you.

"I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now my star." He purred as he hit that sensitive spot deep inside you.

You moaned at the overstimulation. Kylo tilted his head down to kiss at your neck and your brain felt like static as you struggled to find words. "I- I was gonna say- hmm fuck- say the s-same about y-y..." You trailed off, lost in the pleasure.

Kylo chuckled against your neck, amused at your futile attempt to articulate a coherent sentence. "You're getting close again, sweet thing, I can feel it. S-so am I." He moaned, faltering at the end of his sentence.

You could only give a small hum and nod of agreement, words were too much for you, the contents of your mind had been completely emptied and replaced with thoughts of only him. Your desperate whines rang through his bedroom.

"Hm, fuck- cum with me. Cum with me my little star. Shit!" He was desperate now too, his thrusts sloppy as he held you in his arms.

You both reached your climaxes at the same time. Your visions clouded with white-hot stars, as if fireworks were going off in your brains. Kylo desperately muttered a long string of profanities as he came inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, panting heavily before rolling over so you were laid out on top of him.

You felt his cum leak out of you and onto his thigh as you rested your head on his bare chest. He reached for a random article of clothing that had been discarded on the bed and used it to clean you up before throwing it to the floor. He didn't care what it was, he would deal with it in the morning.

He sat up slowly, pulling you both back towards the pillows, and situating you so he could hold you and look you in the eyes.

He noticed you shiver and pulled the duvet over the both of you before speaking. "I'm sorry I made you feel like you didn't mean anything to me- for hurting you. I did it out of not wanting to seem weak, and yet I did the weakest possible thing I could have ever done." His eyes were filled with remorse and concern, his voice laced with shame. "The truth is I do care about you. The day I realized it was the day I hurt you and sent you away... and if could go back and change how I treated you I would." His voice broke.

"Kylo-" You began to speak but he quickly cut you off.

"If you hate me, please don't tell me." He begged. "I understand why you would, but I don't think I could bear hearing you say it out loud." He now spoke in a low whisper, as if he were terrified of his own vulnerability.

"Kylo I dont hate you, I promise. I just didn't understand you, but now I do and I lo-" You cut yourself off this time, thinking maybe you shouldn't say that to him. You couldn't handle rejection from him for a second time.

"I love you."

You heard his voice say it plain as day, you know he said it. You couldn't have imagined it. You didn't see his lips move, yet Kylo's voice rang loud and clear through your head. Your eyes darted to his and you saw him scanning your face nervously for a reaction.

Your eyes widened. "I love you too."

Is that what my thoughts sound like to him?

Kylo smirked, attempting to hide the large grin threatening to creep across his face. "Yes, I told you they're loud."

You laugh, causing him to laugh with you.

It was such a tender moment. Two human souls laughing together under the warmth of the covers, intertwined with each other, and floating in the vast, inky expanse of the galaxy.

[rainba]

I wanna start a blog and you are really inspirational do you have any advice for people making their first blog?:3

(I got a tip for you, and it's pink..../ref)

Awwwe, that’s sweet of you to say! (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡ I do have a little bit of advice for people making their first-time blog!

I would say, to start out with, you should have maaaybe a general play as to what you wanna post? Like, do you want to make just fanfiction? OC content? Etc? You could have a couple of posts planned in a row, and then post them slowly. And if you wanna have a few people notice your stuff, I would say post something as a “hook” of sorts! ( ´ ▽ ` ) I also try to have my posts be a little bit colorful, just so they stand out more... But that's just a me thing.

If you wanna make a blog about one of your OCs, I would say to think about your OCs biggest, most important trait(s), and then really focus on them. After you get the main point in, then you can slowly branch out from there, fleshing out your characters. (≧◡≦) ♡

Like, for me, I think I ended up doing that unintentionally with Kairos– I really focused on how silly and pathetic he is in the fic with him getting naughty with a pillow. (Which… I can’t believe that it has over 1,500 notes?? Silly cute goth/emo boy fucking a pillow might be my magnum opus. Can’t even complain or anything, I actually still like it, hehe ( ´ ꒳ ` ).)

But this is all just general advice–! I’m not even sure if any of it is good advice, really, it’s just something I think I’ve noticed/how I feel.

For advice that I'm confident in, though, here’s a few points!

I’m someone who always feels deeply insecure every time I’m about to post. Like… “Is it good enough? Did I mistype anything? Does the picture look okay enough?” Every time I make something, I find myself stuck in this constant loop of rechecking everything, hoping that I might catch something that’s off. Sometimes I just stare at a piece I’ve made, and I just really don’t like it that much and wanna delete it. My, um... My mouse is forever edging that "post" button. So, here’s my advice on how I’ve been dealing with these kinds of feelings!

“It’s not that serious.” 

Just go ahead and post whatever you want! It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be the best thing you’ve ever made. It’s all for fun at the end of the day– it’s really not that serious.

“Just go ahead and post it! The sooner I get this out of the way, the sooner I can work on something else that might be even better!”

After I’ve read over something a couple of times, I usually have to forcefully stop and tell myself that. ^^;;;; The piece you’re making right now might not be perfect, it might not ever be, so… Why fight with it? Writing or drawing anything is good practice, so you can just call it that! Just call it a practice piece, the steppingstone for the next greater thing you’re gonna make. Who knows, when you post a piece, you might eventually come to find that you actually really like it, and you were just fooling yourself as you were editing. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

“Someone out there might really like what I make, so I should share it!”

I swear, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always been a sucker for yanderes. There’s just something about them that has always spoken to my soft, gothic heart… (o˘◡˘o) But, uh, finding good yandere content has always been a struggle!!

For all these years I’ve been hunting for good content, and I hadn’t really found any until the past 2-3 years. But it wasn’t through big, official content or anything– all of my favorite yandere stuff has been created by small little people on the internet. I’m so very thankful that so many talented people have come around and shared their works!! Without it, I feel like I would still be a lost soul, painfully searching through a barren desert, trying to find ‘water’ known as dark romance content of anime boys… wahh. ( ´ ▿ ` )

So, how does that tangent relate to you and your blog? Think of it like this: your blog could be the water in someone’s desert. Your OCs could be everything that somebody is hoping for! Your writing could be the reason why someone excitedly turns on their phone and checks Tumblr every day! There’s no need to be afraid or nervous about posting. Just post what you love– if you love it, then that means somebody out there is going to love it too. 

One of my favorite parts about this blog is sharing what I love with other people who love the same things. Every comment, every reblog with the silly tags, every ask, etc... It all keeps me really motivated. I'm super glad that I'm able to make fellow yandere-lovers happy!! It's an honor!

☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

(Also, I just really love seeing people make stuff. Creativity is such a beautiful thing to me. A little more on a serious note... I really despise AI art and AI writing. Seeing the joy of creation being slowly dampened and taken away is really disheartening- so I will always encourage people to make and post genuine stuff, no matter what! Please, put your love and your heart out there, simply to spite AI. ~~~)

TLDR: go ahead and post! Just do it!

(Also... Help... What are you referencing? 😭)

[moodywyrm]

about me + master list

hi, I'm moony! I use she/they pronouns and I'm a 21 yr old college student who loves writing <3 

my blog is pretty much all tlou2 writing rn, but I also love Stranger Things, Arcane, Overwatch, and The Legend of Korra <3 

Proud co-mom (with @pinknightsinmymind) of the Farmhand to Farmer Abby and Sevika aus, as well as Rockstar Sevika

DISCLAIMER: any and all college! basketball! abby fics I do are credited to @elsweetheart who basically kicked off the basketball! abby and (in my opinion) writes the best basketball abby!! all of mine are specific to a chubby reader n au that I’m slowly building up (with y’all’s help <3), but if u want the OG, go to kittie <3 in general go to kittie she’s wonderful!! a delight!!

Be warned, my blog is NSFW, so Minors Do Not Interact. If I get the feeling you are a minor, and you don’t indicate otherwise in your bio, you will be blocked. Once again: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS GET BLOCKED.

And since y’all can’t think critically. ED BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. fuck off. my blog is heavily aimed at being a safe and loving space for fat girls. literally choke on my metaphysical dick if you think you can bring that shit onto my page.

if u wanna support my writing, I love getting asks n replies n reblogs!! u could also buy me a coffee <3 And I have a wishlist, on throne 💕

not all of my work is on here! my long poly! steddie fic, as well as my old AOT work, are only on AO3  

mdni banners by @cafekitsune !! this will stay here for as long as i use them, so if I forget to put a disclaimer on any nsfw content from here on, this is here!

Random Stuff

Sapphic Book Recs 

Hozier Song Recs

General Book Recs

reading update - august 4th 2023

Stranger Things

thoughts on nancy and robin’s friendship (and maybe more)

thoughts on the first time nancy came home from college

thoughts on being eddie’s chubby lil partner - suggestive

little reassurances - eddie munson x lexi

soft breath, beating heart - eddie munson x chubby! reader - suggestive

excerpt from “why can’t this be love” - poly! eddie munson x chubby! reader x steve harrington (the magnum opus)

fresh hot buns - eddie munson x reader - suggestive

you know it’s not the same as it was - eddie munson x reader

The Last of Us Part Two

book patrol - ellie williams x chubby! fem! reader

TLOU2 drabbles masterlist (in universe and various au’s)

college! basketball! abby masterlist (with chubby reader and bookworm reader and chubby bookworm reader :) ) 

farm au Abby Anderson masterlist

Bonus for TLOU and Arcane: the cutest exchange I’ve ever had about Farmer Abby and Farmer Sevika

Arcane

Vi

no breakdowns here - college! vi x reader

abby and vi tapping your pussy after making you squirt - nsfw

college! vi kissing her gf’s back

vi taking care of you when you’re on your period - suggestive (like one comment)

vi taking care of you when you have chronic pain - leg cramps

cuddling with a needy + clingy vi

taking care of vi on her period - suggestive (one comment)

giving vi a back massage - suggestive

vi being touchy with a chubby girl - suggestive

vi when her gf sleeps naked - suggestive bordering into smut at the end

cuddling naked with vi - suggestive

vi loves fat pussy! - nsfw

vi with nipple piercings - nsfw

sucking on vi’s nipples - nsfw

vi's endless stamina - nsfw

vi + ankle kisses - nsfw

sub! vi getting strapped - nsfw

vi + bear hugs

taking a bath with vi - nsfw/suggestive

heavy petting with vi - nsfw/suggestive

vi laying between her chubby gf’s thighs

Sevika

farm au! sevika masterlist

rockstar sevika masterlist

sevika bouncing a big girl on her strap - nsfw

sevika being needy and eating you out - nsfw

sevika with a chubby! short! gf sitting on her lap

face-sitting with sevika  as a big girl - nsfw

sevika and chubby! gf at the beach - suggestive, like one comment

cuddling with sevika after work

ikea with sevika

cuddling with Sevika when your tummy hurts

short tiny sevika angst w/ hozier’s “unknown/nth”

sevika and using a smaller strap than you asked for as a joke - nsfw

sevika with pierced nips <3 - nsfw

sevika holding your pussy and cunt when she sleeps - suggestive

Ambessa Medarda

some thoughts about ambessa medarda - short nsfw

Overwatch

missed you - Brigitte Lindholm x reader - nsfw

The Legend Of Korra

lin beifong getting her frustrations out with her wife -nsfw

lin beifong in a suit  - nsfw

Resident Evil

carlos oliveira’s shaggy hair - nsfw

college! jill valentine x bookworm reader 

[femboty2k]

WOAGH I got tagged by @elliegoose to do a thingy!

now the tag game was to introduce yourself with:

one tv show

one movie

one album

one video game

I, however, liked that they did two and I am ALSO cute and get to do whatever I want so im gonna do two, too.

TV shows: The Venture Bros. and Hilda

talk about opposite ends of the spectrum, eh? Now Venture Bros. will always come with an asterisk, that being that it's an Adult Swim show that was created in the early 2000s by two white guys. Its comedy, especially in earlier seasons, can be unsavory. I'm a big believer in things being imperfect though. Not every show can live up to every standard, and sometimes you just need to roll your eyes at jokes that were made 10-20 years ago. If you can get past that what you get is an excellent and genuinely fun world full of Spyfi and Superhero parodies with a good story to boot.

Hilda, on the other hand, is a show for younger audiences based on a kids book series that largely has to do with various pieces of Scandinavian folklore. I've watched Hilda all the way through twice, once on my own as it was coming out and then once with my wife, and its just so so so lovely. The colour tones of red blue yellow and white, the delightful music, the adorable cast of characters and creatures, its such a good time. One of the best cozy up and just vibe it out shows imo. In my top 5 for sure.

Movies: Everything, Everywhere, All at once and Wolf Children.

What hasn't been said about EEAAO? It won awards that it damn well deserved, its got a perfect cast, it makes me cry every time I watch it. A compelling story about family and change, and the monumental difficulties that can come with them, as well as how different people survive hardships in their life, all wrapped up in the most batshit thing you've ever seen. Clair De Lune, THE SONG I GOT MY NAME FROM, is the main theme and it makes me tear up every time. In every universe, I would love to do laundry and taxes with you, and watch this movie.

Wolf Children isn't far off from that vein. I consider it to be Studio Chizu's magnum opus and I don't say that lightly. From the presentation and voice cast to the music and gorgeous art used in the movie, not even to MENTION how good the story about family, change, growing up, and letting go is, if you don't cry in the first 30 mins you should evaluate your emotional status. This movie means so much to me, its such a gorgeous story, and more people should know about it. Studio Chizu doesn't have a single miss in my opinion, just lesser and greater movies. Wolf Children is hands down the greatest.

Albums: Get Lonely by The Mountain Goats and No Dogs Allowed by Sidney Gish

What??? Clair's top two isn't DnB or something techno related???? Nah dog, I get sad a lot and have a thing for poetry. Get lonely was an album I listened to in some of the worst years of my adult life. I was 20 living with my family who made me miserable in a state that was (and still is) trying to get rid of people like me, and I had very little things that were mine. Walking around downtown Bartow, Florida, in the two weeks of winter that hell state gets while listening to John Darniel sing about soft agonies while watching my breath dissipate into the air? That was mine, and it always will be. TMG in general is I think my favourite band. The poetry on display in every one of their songs is just, too beautiful for my dumb ass to put in any meaningful way.

No Dogs Allowed was an album I listened to while working a midnight shift job I hated while also living with my family. Its an upbeat, quirky, kind of melancholy romp with songs that bring me back to driving from Bartow to Lakeland hoping I could stop myself from either killing myself or fucking up my friendships, whichever came first. Spoiler alert, I'm still alive. It also reminds me of the last big thing I ever did with my sibling before I left Florida for good, which was go to the Tampa Bay Aquarium with them. Several songs from the album were on the playlist I made for us, and hearing them always makes me want to shoot them a message to see if they're doing okay.

Video Games: Night in the woods and Final Fantasy XIV Online

Night in the woods is very, very near and dear to my heart. I honestly don't know what to say. If you've played it you know how good it is. How well written the story of Mae and her mental health crisis is. How it goes over things like poverty and trying to get by/make a better life. Family struggles that they don't talk to you about, small hometown decay that seeps into your every memory until the place you grew up in looks like a collection of distorted rotting shapes. I play it once a year in the fall, and each time I do its like seeing an old friend again. At the end of everything, hold onto everything.

Final Fantasy XIV Online is a game you can play with your friends. I could go on and on and on about how I have 1300 hours in this game and how I met some good friends on it, and how important it is to me as a piece of writing and a community and an experience. But we'd be here all day. FFXIV was there for me in some very tough times. I met new people, I grew distant from others, I have regrets and joys that I still carry with me. If you can get into it with the right people, the game really is something special. Its something to be shared, its a bustling community with all the edges that come with that, its a world where you can be a 7ft. tall elf with green eyes and white hair, and its a part of me.

As for who I wanna tag: @problematicmilf , @ninefoldrin , @baphomets-hairy-bonkhonagahoogs , @mobileleprechaun , and anyone who sees this and wants to do it too. This was fun! Hope I don't seem too lame lol.

[steddieas-shegoes]

thank you gerry much

It's time forrrrr weekly fic recs! These are my top 3 (to me) fics by some of my favorite authors, but please check their AO3/masterlists because they have so many amazing things to read and sometimes what I love most isn't what you might love most!

This week is transmasc Steve truther, Sleep Token cult leader, @steves-strapcollection/@gerrystamour! Gerry is probably singlehandedly responsible for the transmasculine Steve Harrington tag on AO3 and I couldn't be prouder of his hard work. He also is responsible for the creation of quite possibly the hottest OC to ever exist: our boyfriend, Tig (more below). Cannot put into words how special Ger is to me and this fandom as a whole. As always, read the tags, don't like, don't read, and consider me the personal attack dog for him if you aren't nice 😇 And as with all of the recs, NSFW is below the cut, minors DNI with me or with Gerry!

ger's ao3 | ger's writing tumblr | ger's fandom tumblr

here i have found some peace of mind Rated E | 60,434 words I can't put into words how incredible this is. The moment Ger announced this fic, I was hooked like a damn fish. It's his pride and joy, his magnum opus, his gift to the world. One of many favorite lines: “Steve, you just sucked my soul out of my cock , don’t be fucking modest,” Eddie laughed, lifting his hands to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes. “We didn’t even make it to my bunk, Steve. I had everything set up, then you came in here and got on your knees like the perfect wet dream you are, and you’re gonna act like you don’t know exactly how good you are?”

i could be honest, i could be human Rated E | 48,581 words This fic. HOOOOOO BOY. This fic has it all. It has the angst, it has the soft boys, it has the idiots, it has the gentle tender nasty fuckin'. And its follow up properly introduces TIG. i can't tell where you end and where i start is the first time I read anything so focused on an OC, especially when it's Steve and an OC. Tig is built different. He is and always will be our boyfriend. And let me just say, for the record, he is even hotter than this fic gives him credit for. He's been even MORE developed since and god help us all. Favorite thing: Just the fact that we've been given an OC that is so incredible. He's inspired people to do more with OCs and I think it's great. Tig is my hero, and Ger is my hero for making him THE hottest fictional man to ever exist.

you're in the walls that i made with crosses and flames Rated E | 7,659 words This was a birthday fic for @legitcookie (who will be featured on a rec soon!) and I would venture to say it may be one of the most romantic tender fuckin' scenes I've read to date. Ger sent me the scene from Atonement and I...changed as a human. Favorite lines: “Stevie,” Eddie breathed, the corners of his mouth ticking upward in something close to a smile, even as the next fluttering blink had the tears barely clinging to his lashes falling down his cheeks.

And Steve was helpless, staring up at the beautiful man in his arms, and he had to blink his own tears away as they blurred his vision. “Eds,” he said, not even bothering to hide just how awed and overwhelmed he was to have Eddie like this again. Steve made a promise to himself that he would make up for every single day he made this man feel unwanted, unworthy, unloved.

[scribe-cas]

Writeblr intro!

Okay, so, I've been here for forever, but if I made an intro post, I definitely don't remember it. So.

Info under the cut!

Welcome to my blog. Enjoy your stay!

"Who are you?" Great question!

Hi folks, my name is Cas, and I'm an amateur writer with a love for all things words.

I use He/they/she pronouns,, but neos are fun. I don't have chosen ones, I prefer to let other people use what they think is apt to depict me. :> but to keep it simple, he/they/she! Use whatever pronouns are in your heart for me!

I'm a slave to the whims of my whimsy. If what you're writing makes me feel things, whether they're dark and unsettling or soft and lighter than air, I'm there. A few of my interests are cryptozoology, psychology, horror, fantasy, music and dance, and just anything I can search for. My favorite game is pattern recognition and completion, which makes things like escape rooms and scavenger hunts, whether for treasure or lore (same thing) a huge treat for me. I love being able to search, so if you like hiding obscure lore, let me at it like a pack of hounds.

I write horror, fantasy, mystery, comedy. My current WIP is a slasher comedy with a side of childish whimsy served up on a silver platter with some slice of life and sex jokes for seasoning. Loosely similar energy to Gravity falls is basically everything I make. What can I say, it's what I like.

I'm 18+, work two jobs and have the retensive memory of a soggy goldfish cracker. My schedule is hectic. If you see me reblogging posts, but I've neglected to answer you or respond to something you send, it's not you! I just have the memory of a wet rag.

Most of my work has at least some suggestive elements to it, because sex is a joke to me (/voice of someone who is very, very aroace). But literally every work does if you peek hard enough. Literally just heed my 18+ warnings on this page and you won't run into anything too gross.

I love weird things! Weird things galore! The more fucked up and absurd, the more I cheer! If you think an idea is stupid, send it to me!! I'd love to discuss it with you. Those little one off facts you've come up with for a character? That Au that stemmed from a joke? That cringe thing you're fixated on? Hit me with it! As a man with questionable morals once said, "Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram!" And therefore, we should have as much fun as we can!

If you ask me about Couteau, I will literally pledge my life to you. I swear. Or if you comment on any of my writing with him in it. Anything.

My WIPs!

"Well, what stuff are you working on?" LET ME ANSWER THAT!

"Sweeter Than Silence" (Project status: Active; In Progress For: 7+ years)

This, my magnum opus, that I've been fiddling at and fucking with the concept of on and off for approximately 11 years, but have been writing for about 7-

Is my LGBT, slice of life healing and depression infused comedy about a woman who goes home to find that everything she's been looking for in a fulfilling life is already there. "Everything", being a murder mystery in her haunted town that she knows wouldn't hurt a fly without good reason, a ragtag gay friend group, and the local hot bartender who is so outlandish it's like he's not even human. (spoiler alert! There might be a reason for that-)

Goofing aside, this story is stuffed to the brim with just the most absurd concepts I could think of. A media about embracing the purest form of self, and learning to love that part of you that finds beauty in the weirdest corners of the world, even if it was killed very young, to embrace your curiosity, and to indulge in suspension of belief. A low stakes, supernatural slasher comedy between a girl who's been told her whole life she's too much and a man who only wants her to get freakier.

This story is: - One of three parts! - T4T! Both main characters are trans, and they have a romance. - Stupid. /pos - Full of the stuff that would make a 13 year old go wild - A Composed Character Breaking Down And Losing It (TM) - Morally grey murder - A bunch of other stuff

"Rose Colored Glasses" (Project status: In Stasis, no longer currently active)

A fanfic i started y e e e a r s ago, when the Hazbin fandom was starved for content. A multi-chapter reader perspective fic, where, after falling into hell, they help an overcompensating Overlord Valentino cease his abusive ways. It's a fix it fic. It's me fixing him. Mostly just an excuse for me to dissect and make a dissertation on Valentino's possibly horrifically fractured and bruised psyche. I like the version of him I made up in my head, but I also like him canon, because he's horrific but he's also just. Iconic. Let's be real. Motivation for this passed on when Hazbin itself shattered my theories, but I still keep it around for fun.

The fanfic:

I also have personal notes that I won't be linking, but if you wanna know more about my theories, please ask! Even non canon, I love talking about my AU Valentino.

"You're Free" (Project status: Finished! Just for fun)

A fanfic I busted out in like an hour and a half once for a video game that gripped me by the neck. (Cryptid Coffeehouse, I love you.)

Not much to explain on this one, it was a self indulgent little scribble I did once, although if you haven't played CC, I highly recommend it.

The fanfic:

Books two and three of BISTS (the overarching series that Sweeter Than SIlence starts!) I know what happens in them, I just have to write it out. Wish me luck

Miscellaneous smut fics that I've done as spin offs of my own series just for fun and to explore different power dynamics. If I ever post any of them, they'll go on a pseud specifically for schrodingers fics (both canon and not, it depends on how I feel) under forgotten_scripture (AO3 account)

Miscellaneous Info!

My blog is sorted into tags!

castalk - Me saying words! bists/blood is sweeter than silence - All of my WIP info on Sweeter Than Silence and it's series. couteau my beloved go back into your box - The tag I specificslly use for anything and everything about my antagonist/first book series love interest. I highly recommend checking out this tag if for no other reason so that you have to look at him. coudoodles - Art I've done of. my antagonist. castalk - Me saying words! bists/blood is sweeter than silence - All of my WIP info on Sweeter Than Silence and it's series. couteau my beloved go back into your box - The tag I specificslly use for anything and everything about my antagonist/first book series love interest. I highly recommend checking out this tag if for no other reason so that you have to look at him. coudoodles - Art I've done of. my antagonist.

Use these to navigate your way around here! I'll add more as needed.

I have a huge fixation on the antagonist of Sweeter Than SIlence. I mentioned him earlier, but, his name is Couteau, he's my stupid 6'4 redhead who wears 2 inch heels to make himself taller, he's a moron, he's immortal, and he's my beloved baby. I lose my shit over this man on a daily basis. Genuinely, bring him up to me and I will talk for hours. I do not regret it. I'm haunted by visions.

I love awful memes. 200% permission if we've never interacted to just send me a bad meme. I want one

And or, I spend a lot of time stuck in spots where I need music recommendations. Throw a song at me!

My inbox is always open. My DMs are always open. I love talking. Do not fear me. Come tell me about your favorite things.

Hey long haired redheaded trans men!

Having a shitty day?

Feeling dysphoric?

Need a mood boost?

Send your selfies to my inbox and watch me go absolutely incoherent about the fact that you look like my OC! For the small price of one existence, I will hype you up to unspeakable levels because you deserve it!! Watch a stranger on the internet rave about how unspeakably fantastic you are!

(mostly kidding about this, but if it would make you feel better, go right ahead, I'm always happy when my obsessions spread love /gen)

Aaaaaand, on that note-

I think that's it!

If you read all of this, wow, look at you!! You did fantastic!!! I can't wait to ask you about your projects, and am waiting with bated breath for you to ask me about mine. HAHAHA

Anyways! Welcome to my blog!

Enjoy your stay!

~ Cas. <3