#nobody would think spot's (powers) are great

[aajjks]

The Conqueror (XXV)

synopsis. He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

pairings: yandere king!jungkook x fem!reader.

warnings: yándèrè, 18+ thèmès, hè is só hôrny fôr yn, néw cháráctèrs, dàrk thèmès, sèxüàl àttràctïón, pósèssïvènèss, dílèmmà.

note. Please share your thoughts on this and I really miss tc koo asks so please send asks for him and really share your thoughts with me always I know it’s weird to repeat myself, but I just have to make sure. Hopefully, I will update this soon and until then enjoy this. 👀💞

series masterlist

•••

It’s the day of the King of China and princess’s arrival and you are not looking forward to it.

It’s been almost a week since you’ve been married to that monster and— you don’t feel bad for rejecting him because you never wanted him in the first place, something has been bothering you for the past three days— his behavior.

His behavior with you for the past few days…

You would be lying if you said that it doesn’t bother you.

You used to think that it would be nice to not have his intense attention on you, you never wanted to be the focus of his attention, but now that you have been, it feels weird to not have him talk to you or acknowledge your existence.

He is a petty man.

The palace has been bustling, everyone has been so focused on the welcome of the king of China with his daughter, it’s like nobody cares about you.

Why would they care about you?

You are just lady yn. The wife of the king that never deserved to have that title in many of the people’s eyes.

As you sit in your chambers, a servant comes into inform you that the carriage has arrived.

“My Lady, the king is expecting your presence at the hall. The carriage of the king of China has been spotted and it’s expected to arrive within a few minutes, so I have been ordered to escort you there so you can be present for the welcome.”

You look at her, and sigh.

“Okay. Thank you for informing me.” without thinking you get up and follow this woman out.

You don’t really have a choice in this matter.

In your life, you have never had a choice.

You are just a puppet that belongs to jungkook, the great emperor of Goryeo, the conqueror, the person who has also conquered you.

And now you are his prize to show off.

•••

Jungkook stands tall, waiting for the arrival of the Chinese royalty, his posture is stiff and formal, as expected.

His mind, however, isn’t entirely focused on the event at hand. It’s on you.

Always on you.

He feels the tension building up inside him. Six days of marriage and not a single moment of closeness, not even a kiss.

It eats away at him, the hunger gnawing at his insides. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to touch you, but you haven’t let him.

Not yet.

And that drives him crazy.

The sound of the door opening almost distracts him from his spiraling thoughts. The moment he sees you, it feels like the room itself shifts.

There you are.

You walk in with that same grace, you have something about you that still has the power to steal his breath away, even after all these days.

He can’t take his eyes off you as you make your way toward him, the fabric of your gown fits perfectly, with each step, the colors rich and deep.

You’re still a lady, not a queen—yet… but Jungkook doesn’t need titles to see that you’re everything he ever wanted.

His eyes trace your every movement, a hunger starts building within him, like a flame that keeps growing, consuming everything else.

The way your hair sways with each step, the way your eyes are avoiding his nervously as you walk closer to him— it all drives him mad with desire.

God, you look so perfect.

He can’t help it. His thoughts are raw and urgent as he watches you.

His breath hitches, and he feels the ache in his chest, a deep longing that he can’t ignore.

The way you look at him, even from across the room, makes his pulse race.

There’s that faint hesitation in your gaze, that uncertainty, as if you’re still unsure of him, unsure of this whole thing, this marriage.

But to Jungkook, that only makes the attraction worse.

You’re so damn beautiful, even when you don’t try.

He notices how others in the room glance at you… admire you— but it’s different for him.

He doesn’t see just your beauty.

he feels the need to possess it, to possess you. His heart pounds harder, and he can’t seem to pull his gaze away.

He knows he has to remain composed. The king of China, and the princess are coming, and he’s supposed to be welcoming her. But right now, he only wants you.

You’re his wife.. he reminds himself, even if the title doesn’t feel real yet, not with the coronation still pending.

But you’re his, and that possessiveness gets worse within him, that feeling of ownership over you that makes him want to claim you completely.

The fire in his chest flares as you finally reach him, and he can’t stop himself from stepping forward, closing the distance between you.

The moment your hand brushes his, his pulse quickens.

He swallows hard, trying to steady himself. His voice comes out a little more strained than usual when he speaks.

“You look incredible,” he says, his eyes still locked on you. His mind races with thoughts, but he doesn’t want to admit the dark, almost primal urge coursing through him.

He needs you, he wants you, and every day it only intensifies.

He remembers the wedding night— the way you rejected him, the way you pushed him away.. and it eats at him.

You’ve been so distant, so closed off, and it’s driving him crazy. He wants you, but you’re not letting him have you, and that makes the desire even more desperate.

You’re mine, and yet you’re slipping away.

It’s the only thought that keeps repeating in his mind. He’s fighting the urge to take you right there, to pull you into his arms and claim you the way he’s been dying to since the day he first saw you.

But it’s not just about the lust. Not entirely.

There’s something deeper in him, something more profound than just physical desire.

The way he looks at you—it’s possessive, yes, but it’s also full of admiration. Full of longing.

The way you carry yourself, the way you hold yourself so regal, even as a lady, makes his chest tighten.

Jungkook takes a breath, his gaze softening slightly as he looks at you. But that hunger never quite leaves his eyes.

I’m going to have you, soon.

He can feel the weight of his desire… his obsession, with you building.

He needs you. And that need, that hunger, makes every part of him ache in ways he doesn’t know how to express.

“I certainly hope that you will behave yn. Do not even try to act cold with me in front of the king. I am not in the mood to be humiliated. Okay, baby?”

He looks at you and he feels entitled to your attention. You belong to him whether you like it or not.

You just have to make it so hard for him to hate you.

But before you can reply, there is an interruption.

Jungkook smirks.

The large doors of the grand hall open with a creak, drawing the attention of every person in the room.

The atmosphere shifts instantly, becoming more charged, more expectant.

The air is thick with anticipation as the king of China, regal and imposing in his own right, steps through first. His eyes are sharp, his presence commanding, but there is something about him that makes jungkook feel so satisfied.

He’s an old man.

And then, there is the princess.

She steps in next, Her long black hair, her high cheekbones and her gaze is sharp, taking everything in as she enters.

But it’s him, Jungkook… who catches her focus.

The moment her eyes land on him, her breath catches in her throat. The prince stands just a few feet away, but he might as well be the center of the entire universe.

His posture is perfect, shoulders broad, the sharp lines of his jawline and the defined muscles in his arms and chest accentuated by the royal attire that clings to him in all the right ways.

Her gaze lingers on him as she takes a step forward, utterly captivated. She can feel her heart race, a heat stirring inside her.

She isn’t quite sure what it is, but the way he stands there, the confidence radiating off of him, makes her feel a strange mix of awe and… attraction. She tries to shake the feeling, but it’s there, undeniable.

The king of Goryeo, is gorgeous and he is nothing like how she was expecting him to be.

She has obviously heard about him and she has heard how bloodthirsty he is and quite merciless on the fields of battle.

But she wasn’t expecting to see a man so attractive, standing in front of her eyes, looking so regal.

She had thought that he must be at least in his 50s. But this couple in front of her. He doesn’t look to be that much older than her.

She knows that she’s here to congratulate him on his marriage to you.

It’s obvious because you’re standing by his side.

Even though you are standing by his side, she doesn’t care.

His pure raw masculinity has her mesmerized to even notice you.

Her thoughts blur, and she doesn’t know whether to be mesmerized by his raw masculinity or embarrassed by how obvious her attraction is becoming.

The way his muscles flex beneath his royal garb, the way his hair falls just perfectly over his forehead… it’s like something out of a dream.

She quickly looks away, hoping no one notices the sudden heat creeping into her cheeks, but the effect he has on her is impossible to ignore.

The king, noticing his daughter’s lingering gaze, smirks to himself. He might be pleased by her admiration,there’s a slight sense of amusement in his eyes.

This is perfect.

Meanwhile, Jungkook, whose eyes flicker across the room, finally meets the princess’s gaze.

He notes the way she is practically undressing him with her eyes, the way her breath hitches. He feels the pull of her stare, but he doesn’t return it.

His focus remains on the king.. on the official duties at hand.

The princess might be beautiful, but he doesn’t care. He’s seen this sort of admiration before, and it bores him.

She’s just a little girl.

He watches her out of the corner of his eye as she shifts slightly, adjusting herself. It’s clear she’s trying to compose herself, but her flushed face betrays her.

Jungkook smirks.

He knows that he’s attractive, but she doesn’t have to make it that obvious.

He wishes the way she’s looking at him? You would look at him like that..

But he doesn’t care about her. His mind, his attention, is focused entirely on you.

When the princess finally speaks, her voice is clear and polite, but there’s an edge of uncertainty in it. “Your Highness,” she greets, bowing her head. “It is an honor to meet you.”

Jungkook simply nods, acknowledging her words, but his gaze never leaves you as you step forward.

He turns to the princess and the king with a soft, almost arrogant smile on his lips. “This is my wife,” he announces proudly, and her eyes are finally settle on you.

She’s Judging you.

He gestures to you, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, feeling that brief contact like a spark. “My Lady,” he says to you, his voice warm yet firm, his eyes holding that possessive gleam that only you understand.

His pride swells, and though the princess might be in front of him, he’s not paying her a second thought.

You are his pride.

“This is my wife, the Lady Yn of Goryeo,” Jungkook says again, making sure his words are heard clearly.

His chest swells as he watches the princess’s expression change ever so slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her face as she realizes who you are.

Jungkook feels a rush of satisfaction, something almost primal, knowing that the princess now sees the bond between you both. She can admire him all she wants, but you are the one he claims.

The princess’s attention is still divided. partly on Jungkook, partly on you.

She’s intrigued, perhaps even fascinated by the lady standing next to him, by the quiet authority that you carry with you.

But Jungkook, in his quiet pride, doesn’t care about the princess’s shifting gaze.

His eyes are only for you. He watches you carefully, knowing exactly how the princess is reacting to him, but he’s too focused on you to care.

In that moment, it’s clear: he is proud of you. Proud of the wife he has. And the princess doesn’t even matter.

“Come inside. I am really honored to have you and your daughter as my guest. And I will really like it if you guys will honor us even more by staying here for a few days.”

He turns his attention back to the king as he invites him to stay in Goryeo for a few days.

Jungkook has some ulterior motives and in order to make sure that he gets what he wants, he will need to play sweet.

“We would be really honored, as we are here to congratulate you on your marriage and I sincerely apologize that my wife couldn’t accompany me on this journey since she’s really sick. But I have brought my daughter with me. Please meet Meilin..”

Jungkook leads Princess Meilin and her father, the King of China, through the grand hallways of the Goryeo palace.

The air thickens with each step, and the atmosphere is heavy with expectation, but Jungkook remains calm and collected.

His eyes flicker briefly between Meilin, who is still caught in her silent admiration of him, and the king, whose regal presence matches his long years of rule.

But too bad he’s old now and Jungkook isn’t really in the mood to go to war since he’s just gotten married to you.

As they walk, Jungkook feels a sense of satisfaction settle over him. The king may have come to Goryeo expecting nothing more than a courteous meeting, but Jungkook has bigger plans.

His thoughts are consumed by his ultimate goal—conquering China.

He isn’t about to rush things, but this visit is the perfect opportunity to move forward with his agenda.

They arrive in the grand dining hall, the flickering light of the candles casting a warm glow over the space.

Jungkook turns to the king and his daughter with a welcoming smile.

“It would be my honor to have you both stay here for a few days, in the Goryeo palace,” Jungkook repeats himself, his words are measured.

“This is the least I can offer after such a long journey.”

The king, caught off guard at first, meets Jungkook’s gaze and nods slowly, his expression softening. “We would be honored to stay, Your Highness,” he responds, clearly impressed by the Goryeo king’s hospitality.

They don’t even know how to properly address him and it’s pissing him off.

Jungkook shifts his attention to Meilin.

She can’t hide her attraction and it’s almost making him uncomfortable.

She’s still watching him, her gaze full of intrigue, but she quickly averts her eyes, maybe realizing how obvious her admiration has become.

Jungkook notices but doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I hope your stay will be pleasant,” Jungkook says, addressing her now, his voice low and inviting. “And I sincerely hope that your wife, the queen will be healthy soon..”

“We have prepared rooms for both of you. I trust Goryeo will offer a much-needed rest after your travels.”

Meilin nods, offering a polite smile, but her thoughts are clearly elsewhere.

She can’t help but notice how close she is to Jungkook now.

His presence is overwhelming, and she feels the effect it has on her intensifying by the moment.

As the king and his daughter are escorted to their rooms, Jungkook feels a rush of satisfaction.

This is only the beginning. He’s patient, playing the long game.

China is the prize.

But as they move through the palace, his gaze drifts to you—Yn of Goryeo. You walk beside him, and Jungkook feels a sense of pride surge within him.

His mind may be focused on his grand plan, but you are always in his thoughts, always by his side.

Though the princess and her father are staying for only a few days, Jungkook’s attention is elsewhere.

He isn’t concerned with them, not really. His mind is set on his greater goal, and China is only a matter of time.

The palace is his domain. And this is only the start of the game.

“Good girl. I am so proud of you for behaving. As I expect you will be in my chambers tonight since I don’t want the king to think that you and I stay in separate chambers.”

He looks at you in a way that makes sure that his message is sent across.

This is not up for debate. You will have to stay in his chambers as long as the princess and the king of China stay here.

And jungkook intends to take advantage of that fact fully.

Starting from tonight.

[furiouskettle]

losers

[an-ruraiocht]

90% of the time when i see reviews and posts saying "this book needed editing" i don't think the reader have any idea what editing actually entails. usually this is actually code for one of several "problems" with the book:

it's too long, or it's slower paced than this reader's preference. they believe "editing" would mean making it shorter

it has a heavily descriptive style, which the reader doesn't like. they believe "editing" means paring every sentence down to hemingway-style prose with no adverbs

it doesn't follow the very rigid "save the cat" style 3-act story structure, disrupting the reader's sense of narrative tension. an editor, they believe, would've made sure it did

there were a few typos or formatting errors, and they believe it's the editor's job to catch these (it's not, it's typically the proofreader and the typesetter who have responsibility for that kind of thing)

and finally, most often:

the author had different narrative priorities than the reader, who thinks an editor would have made the author change their priorities.

the thing is, there are actually issues with editors in trad publishing being overworked to the point where things aren't getting the thorough, thoughtful editing that they need to be the best version of themselves. there are plenty of badly-structured, poorly-researched, and clumsily written books out there. moreover copyediting is typically freelance and perhaps because of that, this is the area where i see the largest number of issues: continuity issues, grammar issues, factual errors etc that someone should've spotted and didn't.

but this is not typically what people's "this needed an editor" reviews are focusing on. most often it just means they didn't like the book and they've decided editing is an all-powerful force that would have transformed it into a book they liked. but that's not how it works. and disproportionately what this comment means is that the book doesn't match what current fashions have decided is The Correct Style to write in

"this book needed an editor" if it's traditionally published, it had one. like. by definition. it was an editor who bought the book. that doesn't mean the editor did a great job but they definitely existed. there were probably at least two (acquiring editor who does the dev edits; copyeditor who does copyedits), and the proofreader, and a bunch of other people besides.

also i think people think editors are the ones who like. implement the changes. but they don't. they give comments and recommendations and ask questions and the author is the one to act on them. the editor will not rewrite the book. they will not fix the problems themselves, they will highlight the problem and the author will figure out a fix for it, or they will decide they don't agree that it's a problem and leave it as it. and a lot of the sentence-level style stuff is entirely on the author so if they don't have an ear for the rhythm then nobody's going to fix that for them. editors do a lot less than people seem to imagine they do, tbh

anyway

for reference—

structural/developmental edits: is this chapter in the right place and does the plot make sense and is the characterisation consistent and effective

line edits: is this sentence in the right place and is it as stylish as it could be

copy edits: is this sentence grammatically correct and consistent/factually correct within the story/its world and do the spellings follow the publisher's stylesheet

proofreading: are there any typos in this sentence and was the formatting preserved correctly when it was typeset

[grimmweepers]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄: OCT 3RD

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yandere!dottore x assistant!fem reader

— ♤ 𝐜𝐰: obsessive yandere behaviour, emotional manipulation, psychological manipulation, stalking, build up to smut is longish sorry, reader is gullible, dubcon, no preparation, pussy slapping (once), he calls you sweetheart, pet, pup, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, power imbalance, biting, 3.5k wc, 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It started with curiosity.

Maybe it was the softness in your voice as you confidently sat in his office, explaining why you would be perfect for the job, or perhaps the way you held onto the belief that he was a good person. But once Dottore saw how much you lit up when he offered you a position on the spot, he knew right then he needed to keep you close. 

This new revelation almost terrified him. 

Your voice was so innocent, clinging to him like honeysuckle, and that warmth behind your smile—it was too pure, too untainted. It had to be locked away before the world could tarnish it.

If you had paid attention, you would’ve noticed how his gaze lingered a little too long when you spoke; how his questions would dive deeper the more you got to know him.

You were ignorant of how much Dottore had deeply ingrained himself into every facet of your life, playing the role of the emotionally distant boss who eventually found comfort in your company. He saw that flicker of trust in your eyes and allowed you to believe you were the only person who could see the real him: the man behind the mask who bled his heart and soul to you when nobody else was looking.

Everything was calculated. Subtle. You had become his latest obsession—a sweet, little experiment where the only result he deemed acceptable would be having you wrapped around his finger. So he made sure he was the first you turned to when things went wrong, planting seeds of doubts about everyone you knew. 

“Forgive me but your friends don’t seem to understand you.”

At first, you dismissed his comments but over time his critiques took root. You saw flaws in people that seemingly weren’t there before which made you wonder if it was truly only Dottore who had your best interest at heart. Gradually, you began to rely on him as your only confidant. Your rock. But it didn’t stop at just your relationships. Dottore had inserted himself into your daily routine, providing solutions for problems you hadn’t realised he created. After minor inconveniences and projects falling through, he was always there to pick up the pieces.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

And every time he did, you felt more indebted to him.

Dottore strung you along for years, feeding you enough affection to have you tethered with him while subtly isolating you from others. And when he finally made you his girlfriend, it was less a declaration of love and more of a confirmation of his control over you.

But you didn’t need to know that. 

You are his precious masterpiece, sculpted into the ideal partner, no longer the person you once were but a reflection of his twisted desires. 

When calling him “Doctor” transitioned from a professional title to something you moaned whenever he plowed you with his cock, it was difficult for him not to start touching himself at random hours of the day. 

Fortunately for him, he could simply just find you while you were working and suddenly, there was something hard pressed against your ass! It always satisfied him a great deal knowing how willing you were to please him, no matter the time of day.  

Sometimes he pitied you for never catching on so the first time you went astray, he was somewhat glad that his little darling wasn’t so dense.

“Dottore, I’m finding it difficult to get through to you. I feel suffocated. I’m worried about us.”

He glanced up from his notebook, almost affectionately, “You’re overthinking it, my dear.”

“I think we need some time apart," your words tasted bitter. "I just… need to clear my head. I’m sorry,” you felt guilty for even suggesting it.

“Time apart?” he repeated with a false frown, dropping his book to look at you wholly. “For how long?’

“I’m not sure.”

A tense silence hung between you, and you tried to steady your breath.

“Darling, you’re not making any sense,” he blinked.

“It makes sense to me,” you protested, “I wasn’t asking.”

Truth be told, he was more amused than angered. Although, he wondered what it was that finally provoked your sudden notion. Sure, disagreements were more frequent but it had been so long since this all began. He thought his tactics would be something you were used to by now. Perhaps you were starting to see everything for what it truly was.

Perhaps not.

Your voice was trembling but you were firm in your resolve. Dottore liked that you thought you had a choice, so he entertained you by letting the last of his smile fade from his lips, eyes narrowing in your direction. 

“So a break, then? If you think that will benefit us, I understand. But I’m not a mind reader. If something bothers you, you have to tell me, okay?”

His words seemed to melt some of your worries away so you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. Could you really doubt someone so patient, so willing to give you space when you needed it? 

“Really?”

“Of course," the lie effortlessly slipped between his teeth, "I respect your boundaries."

You nodded as you squeezed his hand and before you could turn away, his grip tightened. “Before you go, let me remind you that I love you, so very much.” 

And without warning, he kissed you. It was lingering, with no remorse, disguised as a parting gift—as if to say he knew you’d be back.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” you said, feeling conflicted. 

“Doing what?” He questioned.

Dottore knew exactly what he was doing. 

———

Weeks had passed but your time away from him was restless. Days felt semi-wakeful and what emerged was not clarity but the creeping sense that the world was conspiring against you.

It was like your life had taken an irreparable turn. Work became a constant setback, and friends you thought you had made you feel isolated and adrift. Even your home, which once felt cozy and safe, was starting to feel clinical and cold. 

And who would be the one to orchestrate your misery other than the Doctor himself? That vendor who suddenly couldn’t get your orders right? A bribe from Dottore. The neighbours who started fighting at all hours? A couple he had manipulated into conflict. Even your small office, a place that once made you feel so productive, now felt claustrophobic and stifling thanks to subtle changes he made while you were away.

Each of these inconveniences wore you down, making you long for the comfort and stability that only Dottore had ever provided. 

So when you received a short and carefully worded letter from him, asking how you were, you felt a surge of relief. You didn’t hesitate to see him that very evening, desperate to talk in person.

Before you knew it, you were falling right into his hands.

On your feet, you headed straight to the entrance of his lab and stared at the door before you gave a knock.

“Come in,” he said from inside.

The moment you saw him, he greeted you with that charming smile, and suddenly all the frustration from the past weeks melted away. You rushed into his arms, burying your face into his chest, “I missed you.”

He held you close, stroking the back of your head with practiced gentleness, “Ah! You’re finally back. I can’t say I’ve been happy without you.” 

If he was beaming out of satisfaction, you were blind to it. You were too distracted by the need to hear him say it back, to say that he missed you. But instead of the words you longed to hear, he merely held you tighter.

Looking up at him, your eyes searched for reassurance, “Did you miss me?”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead, “Of course.”

“Everything’s been so hard,” tears began to well up, “I can’t believe I distanced myself when I needed you the most.” 

He was always enthralled whenever he was right.

“Let’s not dwell on that, shall we? I’m here now so don’t fret.”

His words felt like a balm to your wounded soul and you clutched onto his coat as if he might vanish if you let go. You could not refuse him and he wouldn’t allow that option to exist. Dottore watched you, elated with himself, “Come,” he said, taking your hand towards his familiar private quarters, “I have something for you.” 

After closing the door behind him, his gaze remained on you, “I was hoping you would see me sooner rather than later,” he started, guiding you to the couch where the two of you sat. “We have much to catch up on.”

Dottore wore his grief convincingly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate crystal necklace that flickered like ice in the light, “I don’t want to lose you again.” Your heart skipped a beat as he put it on for you, the weight of it cold against your skin. When you relaxed your guard, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I can’t lose you. I won’t.” 

You thanked him for the gift but felt him craning your head to the side.

“It’s ice quartz," he purred, "For the pure love I have for you. For the healing that I hope it brings to your troubled heart. I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, a thoughtful stillness, and without another word, he kissed the exposed skin of your neck as if you beckoned him to. 

His lips were impossible to resist, each kiss slowly claiming you as he trailed his way to your mouth. You allowed your hands to explore his hair, messing up the neatness that once was.

Dottore wasted no time, the moment his lips met yours, you felt his hungry tongue and how it tasted of false apologies and something sickeningly sweet. He kissed you like he was starved—like he'd wanted his mouth on yours for weeks.

"Do you still—" he lightly pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, "—feel suffocated?"

Yes, you wanted to say. But for an entirely different reason now. This type of suffocation made your head spin and left something tingling between your legs.

"No," you finally answered against him. A string of saliva connected the small space between your lips. You relaxed under him and he took it as a chance to shuffle himself between your thighs.

"Hmm, I'm glad," he smirked before forcing another kiss out of you. Between gasps for air, his impatient hands found the hem of your blouse, unbuttoning it as he pushed you on your back. You pulled him down with you because you refused to part from the sinful way his lips collided with yours.

Piece by piece, layers of clothes began to disappear until you were left with nothing except the necklace he had given you. 

Spread out like this, you were ravishing, like a fine piece of art and the sight of you went straight to his cock. It throbbed in his slacks and you could hear his breathing growing uneven. At that moment, he could’ve taken you like an animal but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Mmh!” you moaned in surprise as he cupped your breast, fondling your sensitive nipples and practically anywhere else that was available to him. He was so precise in everything he did, it was no wonder he was in his profession. 

The time you spent apart had left you already aching for him so when he dipped his fingers between your quivering thighs, he felt your arousal. You were hot and puffy and embarrassingly wet.

Dottore began to toy with your clit and it pulsed under the pads of his fingers. You moaned instantly. But he was excruciatingly light with his touch which only made you desperate for more friction. You whined and even though the sound of it made his heart beat quickly, his face was unreadable.

“Patience,” he urged. Dottore waited for you for weeks and you had the nerve to whine? At the very least you could have made up for the time you robbed from him. 

You intended to listen. You really did! But when his fingers teased the entrance of your hole, your body acted before you could think and suddenly, your hips rolled towards him. He had barely even touched you before he stopped. 

Tsk, you heard from him, clearly disappointed by your lack of control.

Instead of continuing, he gave your pussy a sudden slap which left you whimpering. 

“Why—!” You trembled, feeling its stinging aftermath.

Why?

Simply put, he decided he wasn’t going to bother with what you wanted. 

In exchange for running away from him, he would show you that not everything was served on a silver platter. Seeing you go from distressed to dependent on him only excited him more. No one riles him up in the way that you do so he couldn’t bear to wait a second longer. 

“Stay like this,” there was something deranged about the smile that appeared on his face. The clinical white glow of his quarters dulled his pale skin yet his teeth glistened through his lips. You felt a chill and it wasn't because of the cold air.

He pulled away and you were immediately drawn to the tight bulge pressing against his pants. Dottore noticed. He knew you were watching.

"Now open your legs for me," he said, breaking you out of your daze. You shifted pathetically under him so it was ultimately his large hand, splayed across your thigh that held you in place. You saw his erection twitch when his eyes fell on your hole, drenched for him and all.

After quickly undoing his trousers, he pushed his throbbing length inside you in one, deep stroke. Your hands curled into the cushions and you were prepared to scream—

"Perfect," he breathed. You didn't need proper preparation. He knew your body better than you did.  

Your voice was lodged in your throat as his girth stretched you apart and Dottore couldn’t help throwing his head back, curses falling from his lips at how well you hugged him. You were so beautiful like this. He couldn’t wait to fuck you back into obedience. It was your fault for being this way, really. You were just so malleable, so easy.

“Ah, look at you. So wet already, my little pup. Did you miss me that much?” 

“Yes, I did. Yes, I did, Doctor!” you whimpered, and he began thrusting as if rewarding you for your response. His hips slammed mercilessly into yours at an unexpected pace, and you couldn’t even think about any of your frustrations anymore. Each time he slid in and out was like erasing all the concerns you had before this. 

“Dottore,” he corrected you. “You call me by my name today.” There was a slight strain in his voice as he fucked you but that was better than what was going on with you. With each thrust bucking into your sweet spot, you could hardly talk. 

The coat on his back ruffled behind him with each erratic movement. It was almost humiliating how he remained entirely clothed as he rammed into you. Your bare skin was on display yet not so much as a zipper and his disheveled hair was out of place for him.

Maybe he was too eager, you thought. Or maybe it was because he wouldn’t strip himself for the likes of you. Not when he was trying to remind you that being with him was a luxury. What he needed to etch into your subconscious was: 

You could get whatever you want as long as you stay and listen. 

Huffing at the sensation of being balls deep inside your pussy, he held you with a bruising grip on your waist, fucking you in a way that had you drooling. You were trying to remember a time when he wasn’t the one making you happy or giving you pleasure—but you couldn’t. Because it didn’t exist. 

“Dott…ore,” you called breathlessly, your voice mixing with the sound of your necklace clinking against your chest. He knew you very well, you had more to say than just the spilling of his name. He could see it in your damn eyes. 

Lowering himself to your neck, he rutted you even further into the couch, “What is it, my dear?” He asked, biting into you, feeling his hot and heavy breath fanning your skin. You yelped as his teeth clenched, knowing there was going to be a mark later. 

“I… love… you…” The words came out in a broken whisper, the sincerity of your confession made his cock twitch inside of you, precum already painting the insides of your hole. 

His tongue began to trace a slow and deliberate path from your neck to your ear, keeping his relentless rhythm as he did. “Is that right?” There was a cruel edge to his voice when he spoke. And you nodded back at him, feebly. Truthfully. 

“Then act like it,” he hissed, grip tightening as he thrusted sharply.

You shuddered underneath him—out of fear or pleasure, you weren’t sure but you knew you didn’t want it to end. You pulled him closer, winding your hands around his neck while he was deep inside you. “I’m— sorry!” you moaned, an apology slipping out in a haze. 

He almost growled at the sensation of you trembling around him, his crimson eyes searing into you, “No, it’s not your fault. I should have paid better attention to you.”

Another lie but exactly what you needed to hear to keep you going.

Lewd squelching sounds filled the room as he reduced you to a filthy mess. Even in your years of being with him, you had never seen him so untamed. Your juices were getting all over his trousers and if you knew any better, you would've seen how he got off on that.

You had almost forgotten where you were, though, at that point, you didn’t care about whether anybody else in the building heard. He fucked you hard and desperately, whatever he needed to do to keep his darling at bay, and you shamelessly cried out his name over and again. It was adorable.

“Dottore… I’m close—! Fuck. Fuck!” You swallowed your words as he pounded you. 

"Dirty mouth," he grunted, "Who taught you how to speak like that?"

He hovered above you, so close you could almost feel his hair tickling your face. "Nobody," you moaned quietly this time, feeling ashamed.

Every veiny inch of him was inside you and the more you felt of it, the less you thought. You just wanted to snap, to cum on him while he drove into you.

“Oh my, you're getting tighter,” he cooed, his voice deceptively gentle as he neared his own release. “Feeling good, sweetheart? Finish with me then…” 

Fortunately—or unfortunately, his pace became rougher, like a repeated reminder of who he was to you and his hand traveled to your jaw, tipping your head to meet his gaze. Amid your bodies thrashing, he could barely keep up with his own voice,

“No one will ever love you like me

or care about you like me

or fuck you like me. Do you understand, pet?” 

“Yes—! Yes, I do,” you panted as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips further into your sloppy cunt. In your lust-clouded daze, you were too weak to register the weight of his words. His sultry voice did a great job at masking the fact that he meant every single thing he said. 

Dottore’s face twisted into a more sadistic smile, letting his thoughts get the best of him. He relished in how little and helpless you sounded, how utterly pliant you were to his will. Everything felt right again and you were back to where he had woven you. With a final, brutal snap of his hips, he spilled his seed inside you, locking himself against you. 

You arched your back as your orgasm crashed simultaneously—you moaned collectively, and your walls pulsed around his cock like you were milking every drop he’s got. His hips stuttered, not giving a damn about the way your nails bit into his skin. Instead, he slammed his lips onto yours, devouring you in a messy, filthy kiss—a perfect match for the way he had just fucked you senseless.

Still panting, he clutched the side of your face, only gentler now. His thumb stroked your cheek as if savouring the moment of seeing you act the way you should.

“I love you,” he hummed, the words slipped from his lips like it was so natural to him. "I love you."

Of course, he loved you. Everything he has done for you was for himself. Everything has been catered to him. 

His sweat-speckled forehead shimmered in the dim light and as you looked up at him, your heart softened. The weight of him on top of you and the comfort in his embrace made you forget everything, lulling you into a peaceful state. 

You sighed, feeling a bit foolish for even creating a wall between you. In front of you, he seemed so fragile, like you were the only thing holding him together. How could you have thought he was anything but honest with you all along?

Now, everything felt perfect—perfect in a way that left no room for anything else. 

No room for doubt or escape.

a/n: imagine at the end of this you think it's over and suddenly his segments walk in

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers by @/astrumaur

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 3

Masterpost - Ao3

Content warning: This chapter involves depiction of a train derailment and subsequent fire throughout. There is also brief mention of death. I will be putting a brief summary in the description if you prefer not to read this part.

Danny jolts up from his fitful sleep. He’s intangible and invisible before he’s even fully sitting up and he’s in the air before he registers the loud boom that woke him. Any concerns about his bright transformation are made totally irrelevant by the warning sirens blaring in his head.

Wait, no. Those are real sirens.

In the distance, lights are now accompanying the sirens; flashing as they speed down what looks like main street. It’s pretty clear where they’re going too, from the violent orange glow cascading over the tops of the nearby buildings.

I knew it, Danny thinks, flying towards whatever disaster is unfolding. probably it’s stupid to get involved, when he still knows so little about this place, but- well, old habits die hard. It doesn’t take long for the problem to become obvious, and Danny freezes as he struggles to process the scene before him.

The metal carnage is nothing like Danny’s ever seen before; what looks to be a freight train has derailed at the worst possible location, sending its cars careening into the various apartment buildings and stores on the east side of town, and to make matters worse, one of them has clearly crashed straight into the gas station by the freeway, and fire is spreading faster than Danny could have imagined.

Danny can already see two buildings blazing, but he quickly focuses his attention towards the carnage of the train itself. Luckily it’s fairly obvious what direction it was headed, and Danny moves fast, looking for the engine. In ghost form, physical sensations always feel a little more distant but even through that, Danny can feel his heart rabbiting in his chest. Luckily it takes less than a minute to find the engine, but as he approaches it, the presence of death catches in his throat, and he immediately knows it’s a lost cause.

He can’t sense any actual ghosts, though, so instead Danny whips around to stare at the derailed cars. He’s far more used to fighting than he is rescues, but he can hardly just ignore the possibility of people trapped, so he carefully begins phasing through the wreckage, searching and listening for signs of anyone. Already, people are starting to gather outside; both those who were nearby and those who have managed to escape on their own, and Danny is careful to maintain his invisibility as he works. 

Danny’s made it through about half the wreck by the time he spots the firetrucks arriving, he’s pretty certain that nobody’s trapped under any of the cars, and he’s also thinking more clearly. The fire has also gotten worse now, and Danny watches as fully equipped firefighters spill out onto the street, already jumping to work as the fire chief shouts out orders. Some rush to start battling the flames, but others head towards the crowd.

They’re getting headcounts, Danny realizes. It seems so obvious in retrospect, but of course, Danny would have to be visible to check with anyone. And now that they’re here, anything he tries to do in secret would probably just make things harder. There is, of course, an easy solution to that, but- Danny has yet to find any evidence that all the meta stuff is anything but propaganda.

Even as Danny considers the dilemma, he knows what he’s going to do. He’s survived danger before, after all, and if he can keep people from assuming ghost, then he’ll have an advantage on them even if it comes to the worst. Besides, there’s that whole great powers-great responsibility thing, so in a way, it’s kind of his responsibility...

Danny floats out of the wreckage before shifting into visibility, figuring it’s probably polite to approach in their field of sight.

“What can I do to help?” Danny asks, causing most of the crowd to stare in shock. Belatedly he realizes he’s still floating, but actually that’s probably a good thing. Makes it clear he’s a meta right off the bat, at least

“New hero, huh? Powerset?” The man responds promptly, leveling Danny with an even gaze. Probably the lack of shock is a good thing. Probably.

“Uh, flight obviously, enhanced strength as well, and um... The ability to turn people and things intangible?” Danny responds promptly. It’s far from his full set, but he figures those are the most relevant, and keeping most of his tricks under his sleeve makes him feel better about what he’s doing.

“Is the fire gonna hurt you? I’m not sending some kid in there to die of third degree burns or smoke inhalation.” The man frowns, giving Danny the distinct feeling he’s not particularly impressed with Danny’s answer.

“Oh! Yeah, no, I’ll be fine! I like, don’t exactly need to breathe? And I’m fine in extreme heat too, so it shouldn’t be a problem...” Danny trails off and the head firefighter narrows his eyes as he tries not to flinch at the assessing look. To Danny’s right, someone shouts and when he turns to look, he sees a firefighter wave their arm and plant some kind of flag before moving on. No longer paying attention to Danny, the chief walks over and speaks to another firefighter. Danny wonders if he’s been dismissed, but before he can do anything, the chief calls out to him.

“Alright kid, you’re up, I guess,” he says, when Danny walks over. “We don’t know how injured he is, so do not move him, but if you’re strong enough to move this stuff fast and safe, that’ll be a damn good help.” He gestures to the twisted mess that Danny’s pretty sure was the edge of a building. 

Danny nods, stepping forward to examine the rubble. The firefighter that spotted the man points to a couple beams.

“Those beams are protecting him from the worst of it right now, but we’ll need to move them in order to get him out, so you gotta make sure that there’s nothing that’ll fall on him him when you move them.” 

“Righty-o,” Danny says, stepping forward to grab the two support beams he’d pointed too. He carefully examines the rubble collapsed around and over it. It’s sort of like a puzzle, he realizes - not quite the same as fixing his parents tech; certainly nothing here is supposed to be smashed together like that, but-

Danny blinks and refocuses. If he  just moves a few things first, he thinks he can get enough cleared away and just intange the beams. He tries to be fast as he does, without forgetting the emphasis the chief had put on safety, and after a few moments, he’s ready to move the beams. He gets into a good position, and then carefully makes them intangible, ready to react if anything bad happens. When nothing does, he carefully pulls them up and away, watching as the waiting firefighters rush in and start to work on actually extracting the guy.

He watches for a bit as a backboard appears and they begin a very slow and careful process of getting the guy onto it.

“Kid,” the chief calls, pulling Danny’s attention away.The chief guides him towards one of the buildings that’s on fire. “Got two people trapped on the third floor here. The stairs are unsafe, so if you can, get yourself up there, locate them, and get them out.”

Danny nods, not waiting for further instruction. He flies up two floors, and goes straight through the wall with his intangibility. The majority of this building isn’t terribly damaged, but one side has collapsed in on itself so if that’s where the stairs were, he can understand the difficulty. The air inside is already thick with smoke, and he quickly stops breathing, belatedly remembering that he’s supposed to not get smoke inhalation. Luckily, it doesn’t take long to catch the sound of voices, and Danny follows it to a room where two people are huddled next to an open window. Right, that’s a smart way to limit the danger of the smoke.

“Rides here!” Danny announces cheerfully, dropping his intangibility. Both people startle as they spot him, but one recovers relatively quickly.

“Him first,” they say, nodding towards their companion, who definitely looks more dazed.

“Right, here we go!” Danny says, stepping forward, and scooping the person up, and wasting no time flying directly through the building, and down to the waiting paramedics. There’s no stretcher currently available, so Danny gently sets them on the ground away from the worst of the smoke, before flying back to get the other person. They’re already standing up, and waste no time in wrapping their arms around his neck as he picks them up and flies them out to the medics as well.

Danny hardly has time to set the person down, before the chief is pulling him away again. They send him in to save a couple other trapped people, but after that, it sounds like everybody is accounted for, because the chief starts focusing all their energy on putting out the fire, rather than just containing it.

Danny is surprised to find himself pulled into helping with this part too. He gets assigned to a fire attack team, and Danny trails along after the two firefighters as the enter the building and begin to fight the fire from the inside.Occasionally, one of them will point at some piece of wall or ceiling and ask him to check what’s on the other side. He goes where they say, looking for signs of the fire, and when he does spot flames, occasionally tearing stuff down so they can get to it with their fire hose. It’s honestly a fascinating process. Danny’s never been anywhere near a major fire and the fact that the firefighters actually do more damage to the building as they work echoes in Danny’s brain as a morbid refrain.

What they’re doing is clearly working though, because he can actually feel the ambient temperature going down as time goes on. He briefly wonders if he should be trying to use his ice powers when one of his teammates complains about how hot it is, but they have protection, and he doesn’t want to risk any more info on him getting out. And anyways, he’s busy enough just doing his job. By the time they leave the building, Danny is exhausted. The interrupted night’s sleep is making itself known, alongside the surprising realization that Danny has actually worked harder tonight than he ever has before.

He lets himself half-collapse against a wall beside one of the fire trucks, once they finish their work putting out the fire. Beside him, his teammates are divesting themselves of their gear. it’s funny, Danny was anxious about revealing himself at first, but this whole night - and Danny belatedly realizes the sun is beginning to drift above the horizon now - he’s not been scared at all. Sure he’s been worried; with people in danger he’s hardly going to feel good, but in the last few hours he’s both worked harder than he has in any of his fights, and he’s done it without feeling terrible. Now, with just everyone accounted for and just about all of them either fine or in the hands of doctors, he feels odd.

It’s not a bad feeling or anything, kind of like when he successfully beats a hard level in a video game, or how he used to feel when he finished science projects in middle school.

Satisfaction, he realizes. And that’s what it is, though it’s far stronger than any version of it that he’s ever felt before. He does have a lot to feel proud of too. He  helped, even though he wasn’t sure it was safe to, and he might’ve actually saved somebody’s life tonight.

“You did good, kid.” One of his teammates says, echoing Danny’s thoughts. He startles a bit, feels himself flushing, and then in his embarrassment, he feels himself tumble over into a full blush. It’s always felt more embarrassing blushing in his ghost form. The way his skin actually glows with the green tinge is just so obviously inhuman, and he tries to avoid, tries his best to seem normal and alive, even when he’s a ghost.

Of course, these people don’t know he’s a ghost, but from what he’s seen, most of the heroes out there at least look functionally human, and he waits for the firefighters around him to freak out at the reminder that he isn’t even remotely one of them.

“Damn,” one whistles. Green glow is a new one. Makes your freckles real cute though.” The others laugh, and the other of his teammates steps forward to pat him gently on the back.

“Stop embarrassing my new favorite hero,” the chief says, walking up to join them. “You gotta name?” 

“Oh, yeah!” Danny answers, desperate for a distraction from this line of conversation. “I’m Danny!”

“Danny,” the chief responds flatly. he almost sounds exasperated, though Danny can’t imagine why, unless...

Unless that absolutely sounds like he just introduced himself normal and they think he’s a hero and he sounds like a dumbass without a secret identity, which- technically isn’t exactly wrong. 

“Yup!” Danny says, trying to make it sound intentional. “Danny Phantom at your service! Y’know cause of the intangibility and like. It just sounded good?” There. That sounds plausible. If he actually does end up having to be a hero, though, he’ll probably need a different first name. If he gets a civilian identity, that is.

“Well, Phantom,” the chief grins, that same assessing look from before back, but noticeably more relaxed now that there’s no immediate danger. “We’re damn grateful for all your help, and if you need anything you come let us know, alright?”

“Yeah, one of his teammates echoes. “You’re an honorary firefighter now, you should come hang out at the station sometime!” A couple of the others echo the sentiment. It’s surprisingly kind, and Danny smiles at the unrelenting wave of welcome.

“I’ll think about it,” he offers uncertainly. “For now, I think I ought to go back to sleep for a few more hours.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Danny,” the chief says. “Just make sure to get something to eat first. You’ve burned a lot of calories today.”

“Yeah, will do,” Danny offers an awkward salute to the man, and then, before he can actually fall asleep standing up, he takes off to hunt down a good spot for a nap.

[astro-tag-9]

Rising Signs

Aries Rising: You are born with more ambition than you may always know what to do with. You wear it for the world to see. You are easily yourself 100% of the time. You have confidence in almost everything you do, even if you don't know what you are doing. You aren't afraid to make mistakes and you take every opportunity thrown your way. Taurus Rising: You find ways to love when other people would not. You are even borderline obsessed with love and everything to do with it. Your emotional goals take priority over your physical goals on a regular basis. Once you have obtained, or are mutually in love with somebody, it is then that you can actually focus on obtaining physical goals of yours. When you are in love, your universe seems to re-center to your love. Gemini Rising: You hold a more fierce presence than you are aware. You are aloof but the center of every party. You know how to be social more naturally than most. You tend to make friends so easily, and end up being the reason how many other people make great connections. You tend to be the glue in any of your friend groups. Cancer Rising: You have a default sweet natured look to you that people notice right away. You may often feel like people around you are always trying to cater to your wants or needs. You just draw in people who are natural givers. But you become aware of this at some point in your life. Just make sure you don't abuse this, but always appreciate it. Leo Rising: You hold strong physical features that capture attention from many people when you first meet them. Your appearance is typically "loud" (in a good way). You know how to demand attention, and enjoy holding the status as the most powerful person in the room. Virgo Rising: If you ask any of your friends they would say you live off the grid 90% of the time to most of the world, and really keep your day-to-day circle as small as could be. You only prefer big crowds if they are so big that nobody is really noticing you, and you only prefer small groups when it's your day 1 homies that don't put you on the spot or make small talk. Libra Rising: You've probably never not looked good a day in your life. You truly have the most natural glow to yourself where with little to no effort, you are always a shining star. However, you never fail to remind people that you are more than meets the eye. Scorpio Rising: Even in the best moments of your life, somehow chaos, on even a minor level creeps in. Overtime you learn how to control it and your emotions to not let it get the best of you. Many envy your cool and calm, collected demeanor when they see you tackle this chaos. Sagittarius Rising: You know everything about everyone. Everybody's go-to friend to tell secrets to or trauma dump on. However, what makes you great at this role, is your ability to take it, and then immediately know how to cheer them up afterwards. Your ideas are endless, and you are always thinking of new things to do. Capricorn Rising: You will never let somebody be alone when you can feel that they shouldn't be. You very much go where ground is hollow, and work on filling in the dirt. You are driven to these places in people's lives. Sometimes it may feel more stress than it's worth, but you are more impactful on people's lives than you know. Aquarius Rising: I cannot stress this enough, STAY INTO YOUR ART! Creative energy is flowing through you at all times, you just have to find ways to always tap into it. Don't let your art be ruined or tainted. Always keep creating. Never let your ideas go without bringing them to life. Pisces Rising: You are always floating along like a river stream. Never having a clear destination, just going where it takes you. You form many different friends in completely different groups. A little of this and a little of that. Your friends are a total melting pot of personalities, each bringing out different sides of you. Just do not lose your own identity in which friend group you are hanging with at the moment.

[lunamugetsu]

The CIA is trying to kill Danny

Now hear me out.

I stumbled upon this prompt idea where somebody wrote that they want to see a story where the CIA is trying to kill Clark Kent (not Superman, reporter Clark Kent), the reason is because that Clark Kent is a very good reporter. And everybody knows that a mark of a good reporter is that they die of natural causes, with bullets in their head. So that story would have centered around the CIA trying to kill Clark Kent and having no idea on how Clark Kent is still alive after the multiple attempts on his life.

Now this got me thinking.

In an AU where Danny is interning or working at the Daily Planet, probably under Clark or Lois.(you choose) And Danny is a really good reporter, his ghost powers help him gather information undetected. He's exposing corporations left and right, all ranging from either illegal animal experimentation, environmental pollution, horrible working conditions, toss in a couple of sleazy terrible rich people. So while all of his stuff is getting published and the govt is going, "we gotta stop that reporter." And proceed to constantly try to end this kid's life with no result. They try to poison food, Danny grew up eating radioactive food, if anything the poison is just added seasoning. They try to set up his place on fire, Danny's just conveniently not there. They try to have people tail him but they can't because Danny just disappears whenever he turns a corner.

And layers could be added to this, like Danny's just talking to Clark at work (y'know water cooler talk) and when Danny brings up all of these strange things happening to him like "people following him, the elevator at his place just conveniently broke down and crashed into the ground around the time he would have left for work, or how his usual food orders look a bit different than what they normally look like and they taste slightly different." And Clark is hearing all of this and is going "wait a minute!" and there's a scene of Clark walking with Danny as the kid is waiting for his uber and when the car pulls up. Clark uses his x-ray vision and spots the driver sporting guns, knives, poison gas (whatever CIA agents use for assassinations, I don't know) and just goes "Hey Danny did I ever take you to my favorite diner. No? GREAT! Let's go now!" and he just immediately drags Danny away from the murder car. And from that point on, Clark is taken it upon himself to stop all of the assassination attempts on Danny because he believes that Danny is a fragile young human being.

OR

This could be set in Gotham

And Danny is just exposing all of elites of Gotham, including Gotham's rogues and all of that song and dance. Which then leads him to be targeted by the Court of OWLS! Danny in this scenario would be friends with Tim, because they go to the same coffee shop and order the espresso on steroids drink. Danny tells him all of the stuff that's been happening to him and Tim goes "oh shit." In which he then tells the batsiblings. They all band together to protect Danny because he is a normal human being. (said nobody ever) So Danny becomes unofficially adopted by them. They don't tell Bruce about this because then they'll have to come to terms that they are just like him because they just took in a black haired blue eyed kid into their family.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 15

Moniker: Velikan Risk Level: Medium. Velikan is a permanent resident of the Kennel. Brief: Restraints, squirting Safeword: Refer to first brief. Velikan doesn’t talk. They’re potentially the deadliest person in the world, but we have never had a problem with them in the Kennel and they were the one that checked themselves in as a resident, so I don’t think you’re in any danger at all from them. Safeword out and I’ll shoot them if they don’t listen - Laswell

So far everyone had been pretty casual, but Velikan was in full gear including a hard mask with an oni pattern on it. You knew immediately that it would be staying on.

They patted a gloved hand on the bed and as you approached they stopped you to relieve you of the robe your were wearing, leaving you naked. You couldn’t see if they were looking at you, but you could feel it, your nipples puckering from what you were sure were eyes on them and your clit throbbing a few seconds later as you imagined their eyes going south.

The sheets felt luxurious enough but a little strange on your skin as you lay down on your back. You wriggled a little to get used to the feeling, trying to pinpoint what was strange about them.

Velikan said nothing, but they took the glass of water from the side table and spilled a few drops on the sheet. They beaded and ran off the side. Waterproof. The sheets felt odd because they were waterproof.

“I don’t know if I can… um… you know…” you mumbled nervously as your ankles and wrists were buckled into cuffs attached to the four corners of the bed.

You automatically tested them, yanking and finding they only had a little give. Velikan just let you lay there for a while, getting used to it. You thought they must be experienced, because if they hadn’t you’d have safeworded from how uncomfortable it felt to be so at their mercy. It made your stomach fizz not being able to move properly, not being able to fight if you had to.

After a while the feeling started to dissipate and instead the powerlessness started to feel sort of liberating in a way. You couldn’t fight this so nobody could blame you for not trying. Once your brain switched to that kind of thinking it was like everything untensed all at once and you melted into the bed.

Velikan only stood and, you presumed, watched until your body relaxed and only then did they approach. They had a clinical touch as their gloved hand ran across your clavicle and down to run their fingertips over one nipple and then the other.

Your body was so primed and tuned in to their touch. You hadn’t realised how much not being able to touch yourself or touch them back would sensitize your body, make all your brain power only focus on what was happening rather than always having to tick over with escape routes or contingencies.

Once they were satisfied that your nipples were at attention for them, they moved down to your belly and spent a great deal of time there, pressing against the fat and tracing swirls into the skin. You’d never really considered the stomach to be an erogenous zone but the press of leather glove was making you squirm and you choked an annoyed noise when you tried to close your legs to get some friction and the restraints stopped you.

It was maddening that you somehow knew they were smirking under that damn mask.

Only when your ankles were chaffed from the constant attempts to get any sort of pressure did they moved down again, fingers swirling around your clit, through your slit and probing inside you just as clinically as they had assessed your nipples.

You couldn’t tell if they were getting any sexual gratification from this because their touch felt like you were a puzzle to figure out more than a body to play with. The leather clad finger inside of you curled and poked and prodded while their other hand pushed down on the outside, testing different spots.

You felt like a science experiment and that was weirdly doing it for you. Fuck, were they all turning you into a sexual deviant or had you been one all along?

There was a spot they hit that made you spasm and had a sharp sound of surprise spilling from you. It was odd, you weren’t sure if it felt amazing or uncomfortable. It seemed to be what they were looking for though because suddenly that finger was jack hammering inside of you at just the right angle and you were straining against the restraints.

“Oh fuck, wait wait wait, something is- I feel-!” you babbled.

This did not feel like the build up you were used to. If anything you felt like that moment just before peeing where you had been desperately holding it all day. They pressed harder and you nearly blacked out at how sudden and sharp the fall was.

The scream that tore through your throat hurt when you came. Not a normal orgasm, not by a long shot. This was explosive, like there were other parts of your insides getting involved that you hadn’t known could. You looked down at yourself horrified because you could hear the splatter of wetness on the sheets, a lot of wetness, as they pulled their finger out and rapidly ran their palm back and forth across your pussy to sustain it for as long as possible.

You were soaked. The sheets were soaked. Fuck had you…? You looked at Velikan whose mask was as impassive as ever and they simply gave you a short nod as if to say ‘good job, now we know it works’.

They took a silk sash from their pocket and made it clear that they were intent on blindfolding you, giving you the chance to protest. You did not. This person was massive and imposing and yet you really had no fear of them at all. It was something in how they treated your body, oddly non-sexual even while you were still reeling from squirting all over the damn bed.

They started the touch again, this time that gloved finger soaked. It was different with the blindfold on, your cunt violently throbbing with every drag of leather against flesh since your brain couldn’t send any warning signals about what was coming.

There was a click this time when they got to your clit and a warm pressure. A tongue. Oh, the blindfold made sense now, they had taken off their mask. You wished you could see the face of this fucking machine because nobody should have a tongue so dexterous. Not even Soap had been able to flick his tongue so fast against you for so long.

When you started to build up again you strained against your hand cuffs, needing to push their head away because you screeching at them wasn’t working. If they kept going like that you were going to squirt all over their face.

Velikan did not let up nor did they pay heed to any of your manic warnings and soon they were content drowning in your squirt, free hand forcing your hips down so they didn’t miss a drop.

You expected the click of their mask and to be undone from your blindfold and restraints. A silly notion really, you should have known better. It wasn’t until a half hour later when you were cumming dry because you had nothing left to give that they relented and by that time it didn’t much matter that they masked up and removed everything because you were pretty sure you were too strung out to actually take in any visual stimulus or move at all.

To your knowledge they hadn’t gotten off. In fact they looked much the same as when you had walked in, not rumpled in the slightest. Before they left you for Kate to clean up, they caressed your cheek, their damp still gloved thumb rubbing against your cheekbone fondly.

“I um… thanks. This was nice. Probably not an everyday thing because I’m pretty sure I’m severely dehydrated but still nice” you said, stupidly proud of yourself for actually being able to talk to someone like a normal person after such an intense session.

You swore you heard something like a chuckle and then they booped your nose and left. Strange character that one, but their brand of fondness left you smiling for the rest of the day.

[s9fti3]

‘Think it took it too far, when I sold you my heart.’- Draco Malfoy @riu-riu

“Wait, what?” Their question was so random from the conversation you were just having, it caught you off guard. “Draco. Do you like him?” Your friend had asked again, this time peering up from their plate for a few moments before looking back down and stabbing a piece of food before taking a bite.

You had paused, calculating their question and how to respond. It was true, you had. But nobody had known, love wasn’t a topic that had been commonly discussed. Well, not until the ball’s, the dances and the holidays had been coming up. Picking up your glass, taking a sip and setting it down, you had answered.

“I think he is a good person. Quite charming but has flaws.” You say, poking something on your plate with your fork, but never bringing it to your lips. “I have a few classes with him, and he’s really smart.” You trail off, never noticing the small smile that was plastered on your face. “Sometimes him and his friends will risk their futures in this school to make the class laugh! Or how he’ll score a goal in quidditch like nothing!” You had went on and on, talking only about his charming qualities, never his flaws.

Your friends had made eye contact with each other, smiling ear to ear. “Huh. You’ve got a crush on Malfoy.” Your brunette friend had spoken, seemingly in a mocking tone. She had giggled, though you had only seen it as a gesture of excitement. You were wrong.

That giggle wasn’t out of excitement, but out of power. Your little confession had been passed around Hogwarts like wild fire. Every house, year, teacher, anything you could’ve thought of had known. Even worse, Draco. He had went from never looking in your direction or acknowledging you to dirty glares across the class room or great hall.

His eyes would piece through you, as if you had placed a spell on him and had cursed his family for years. His friends would do the same. Glares, mocking, laughing, pointing, teasing.

A few weeks had passed and the joking and mocking had went down. Finally your life went back to normal, or you thought. The sound of glass clinking loudly and boys and girls cheering is what caught your attention. Draco, standing on a clear spot on the table, looking as if he was preparing a speech. You friends had laughed and looked at you, smiling. They might have known your crush on Draco, but not what was planned.

“Excuse me for a moment. As many of you have heard about the certain someone who had taken a liking to me, I’d like to say a few things.” He says, looking at you and your friend group. “Me and this girl are not dating and as a matter of fact, I would never date this girl. She is ugly, disgusting, stupid and frankly nothing any guy would look for in a woman.”

He finishes off with his last statement. “And if one ever catches me with a women like her, you have my full permission to slap everything and anything out of me.” He was done, stepping down as everyone had laughed and clapped, cheering on his name as they clapped and slammed on the tables like a ritual.

Frozen you were, still as a statue. Your friends had stared with blank expressions, their faces going one shade lighter after his speech. There was nothing you could feel. Embarrassment, sadness, anger, shame, guilt. Nothing, it was a open, white canvas.

[bi-panicatthedisco]

Twst first year incorrect quotes: ver 2

Yuu: Sebek is forbidden from monologuing, especially about malleus.

Sebek: did someoNE SAY MALLEUS?!

Jack: What is wrong with you?

Ace: Loaded question. Elaborate.

Deuce: Everyone has a toxic trait. Except Yuu, they’re perfect.

Yuu: Wrong! My toxic trait is how badly I want to domesticate a raccoon.

Yuu: I’ve been sleeping so little the past few nights that when I go to the alarm app, I click on the “power nap” button. I don’t set up alarms, I set up timers.

Deuce: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.

Ace: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

Epel: Screw lactose intolerance! I will consume as much dairy as I want!

Epel 2 hours later, crying on the floor: WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH?!

Jack: You want some leftovers?

Grim : What are those?

Jack: You've never had leftovers before?

Grim : No, ‘cause I’m not a quitter.

Deuce: I’m afraid of clowns. There, I said it.

Epel: Deuce, if you don't like clowns, why are you hanging with Yuu?

Yuu: Did you just call me a shrimp, you asshole?! I'm still growing, dammit!

Epel: Get in, loser, we’re committing vehicular manslaughter!

Yuu: *on the phone* Just snap his kneecaps and he’ll talk, I’m at a parent teacher conference.

Yuu: Anyways, you said Grim is enjoying finger painting! That's great.

Grim: *Kicks the door open, looking panicked*

Sebek: What did you do?!

Grim: NOBODY DIED!

Sebek: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Jack: Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

Epel: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

Yuu: So, everyone, what does a story NEED?

Deuce: A character!

Ortho: A setting!

Epel, a gleam in their eyes, in a near-whisper: REVENGE.

Yuu: You gave me up, you let me down, you turned around, and deserted me.

Ace: But did I make you cry?

Yuu: *cries on the spot*

Ace: ...Shit.

Grim, with their hands cupped over each other: I found a cool spider!

Epel: Oh? Lemme see!

Grim, opening their hands to see nothing there: …hm.

Deuce: …where’s the spider.

Grim: *looks troubled and stares at their hands*

Ace: Oh no.

Sebek: GRIM, WHERE’S THE SPIDER?!

Epel: If it pleases the court I would like to say that my opponent is TALKING SHIT!

Yuu: ...

[colourstreakgryffin]

Nezuko!reader × Alastor please🙏

Haha! Awww! I am not sure it’s platonic or romantic but I’ll go with what I’m thinking. I think Alastor would have lots of fun with a Nezuko!

Alastor- Bamboo Binds

You’re one of the weirdest demons he’s ever seen. You don’t want to eat demons? What’s the point of being in Hell then if you don’t sin. That’s how Alastor feels and that’s how he thinks as he watches you with the sharpest eye a deer like him can at your entrance to the Hotel

As soon as Charlie checked you in to the Hotel, she begun introducing you around and trying to have you befriend everybody but yet, you somehow clicked the most with Alastor. Nobody can explain it, you just did

Alastor can’t help but view you as an attached kitten, following him around, your off yet cute bamboo muzzle, light pink kimono and long haori covering your body well, light pink slit eyes. You’re so cute, like a child. He can’t help but view you as a child… a naive, easily manipulated little one

Alastor eventually ‘adopts’ you after pretending he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence around him for quite some time. He finds you way too perfect for his own purpose to just ignore your existence further so he goes from ignoring to openly addressing you

Alastor just drags you around when he needs you. He has a tab on you so he can teleport you from place to place with his voodoo magic. He nicknames you ‘Kitten’ so his voodoo entities know the target but he won’t ever explain how he managed to spread his magic onto you

Alastor isn’t the biggest fan of your bamboo muzzle since it’s restricting your ability to communicate so the only way he knows your answer is based on nonsense muffles and your gestures. At least, you’re naive enough for this to work

Alastor isn’t entirely sure what to call you. You’re not necessarily a younger sibling or a child figure to him but he also doesn’t feel comfortable with calling you a servant. You’re just some type of thing he favours and appreciates but also needs for his own selfish reasons

Alastor may pretend he doesn’t truly care for you but he does. He’ll put on your muzzle for you, he’ll crate a shade for you so you can walk in the sun of the Pride Ring without being burnt and he’ll give you a corner for you to sleep in. He does care… in his own way

Alastor also does express that he isn’t a fan of your style but is of your preferences. You’re from the Tashio Era, around his time on Earth so you view technology like him and it makes him feel more appreciative that you get him. You’re his best tool ally after all, he didn’t suspect anything else from you

Alastor is surprised by how sweet and compassionate you are to him, even him where everybody else kinda makes sense. He isn’t a nice man at all, he may believe he deserves a number of things but does he deserve kindness from people like you or Charlie? Not really. He doesn’t want it but once more, he doesn’t care much

Alastor is actually quite impressed and interested in how you’ve basically been brainwashed… through whatever, maybe some old guy, into believing he is your family so you defend him, just viewing your lost siblings through him. He finds it cute how you rely on kickboxing to fight or even argue, he finds you cute. Like a little fawn

Alastor believes you’re a powerful useful tool-ally to him. You keep his threats away, you serve him. It’s a give to and give back relationship you two share. You give him something, he gives you something back as to keep you under his thumb

But really… he’s grown to have a bit of a soft spot for you so he will tolerate giving you and your pretty blank pink eyes a bit more benefits than he would normally dare to

That shrinking power of yours is great at infiltrating Vees Tower and squeezing through hidden areas easier, and whilst Alastor does leave you to do those type of missions solo as a ‘favour’ in exchange for a ‘favour’ back, he likes you too much to let the Vees lay a hand on you so he swoops in when he needs to

Alastor has seen your Awakened Form before. The first time he’s ever been intimidated in this realm. It was triggered during the Exterminator Battle for the Hazbin Hotel. You were kicking around angels viciously, setting them ablaze, almost targeting your own allies out of immense hunger, but Alastor had to restrain you to stop you from going too far and it… was amazing for all that he even stepped in, despite the danger you opposed in this state

Your strength and your healing fire touch makes you become a further valuable item to Alastor, more and more everyday, so it makes him protective and possessive over you. A demon with your power and capabilities must be under his servitude but also being treated like a pampered kitten by him and only him

Alastor legit gets so pissed if anybody dares to put you outside in the sunlight with no protection, even when they don’t mean to hurt you! It doesn’t matter to him!

“Oh. My darling little kitten, are you tired? Come. In this box, where you’ll be in my tower with me as I work. High up, away from the sun and from your belly rumbles. Does that sound good?”

[sebastianswallows]

Nobody's Darling — 1. The Road

— PAIRING: Benny Cross x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Benny comes across a girl walking alone in the middle of nowhere and offers her a ride to the nearest town. They stop at a motel.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

— A/N: Hello, my dears! So yeah, I saw The Bikeriders because of Austin (and Tom Hardy) and of course I had to write something for it 😂 I've been labouring at it for the past two weeks lol This was meant to be a one-shot but it kept growing and I decided to split it into chapters. The plot is partly based on something that happened to me, namely I missed my stop and the bus drove me way out of the city before I realised what had happened 💀 Anyway, hope you enjoy it! 😘💕✨

Grey clouds floated across the sky. Fields of yellow and burnt grass rolled along like waves. A string of birds cut through the far horizon. The fading light of the sun seeped softly through the glass and warmed her cheek but she was happy to keep sleeping, caught in that special spot between awake and dreaming when her thoughts were peaceful, settled, and she could weave from them a pretty fantasy. The chill of a November evening didn’t quite make it into the bus but the windows were already fogging and the seats grew cold.

She woke up with a start when the wheels struck a hole in the ground and everything jolted.

“Where am I?” she groaned, squinting at the window. Her reflection frowned back but beyond it, she could see… nothing. She was in the middle of nowhere with only naked fields and swaying power lines around her. She checked her watch and her heart stopped.

“I should’ve been home by now. Oh no, I did not sleep through my stop,” she whispered to herself — but she did. “Wait! Driver!”

She got up and ran to the front, scrambling past all those empty seats, her jacket in one hand and purse flailing in the other. The driver gave her a bored expression as she leaned panting against the divider.

“Wait, please, I need to get off! Where are we?”

The man looked at her with all the serenity of an overworked drone in a dead-end job. He didn’t seem particularly alarmed to see her there, nor did he seem to care about her predicament.

“Halfway to the next town,” he mumbled as he started to slow down. “There’s another stop ‘bout a mile back.”

“Great…”

“Next bus comes tomorrow ‘round seven thirty.”

“Oh.”

She looked around again as if she could see something different from up here but it was all the same. The vastness of it frightened her and she half-wished she’d never woken up.

The driver pulled over at the side of the road and tilted the cap on his bald head, his teeth tight around a toothpick.

“You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah…” she said automatically. “Sure.”

He opened the door and her whole body began to tremble, the situation suddenly completely real. She gathered all her nerves and put one step in front of the other, and as soon as her feet were on the ground the bus started to move again, driving away.

The sun was dipping into a pool of pink and the birds that circled overhead were growing louder. She was alone in a darkening field with nothing in front of and behind her except for lamplight spilling yellow and pale over an empty road and dead grass all around. If she regretted getting off that bus, it was too late now.

“At least it was warm inside,” she muttered. “But I could never make it back in time for work tomorrow from the next town… Damn it.”

There was nothing left to do. She sighed to herself and started walking back. In her head, she tried to calculate how late it would be by the time she made it home but each result only scared her further.

“Best not to think about it,” she said. “Just keep walking…”

She hadn’t gone on such a hike since she was a little girl, and never far outside of town. She’d only walked through fields and meadows and the forest that stretched east. There was certainly no time for it since getting hired at the local newspaper, and she liked it that way. Her days were measured and predictable, her clothes were always clean, and nothing ever hurt her — except her back if she sat down writing for too long. She was scared now not just because she was alone and in the dark but because she’d never done a thing like this before. Her heels were unsteady on the crumbling tar and her purse felt heavy on her shoulder. Insects were singing in the grass and creatures rustled through it that she dared not think about. Were there snakes around here? Rats? She pulled her jacket tighter around herself.

After half an hour she came across the bus stop that the driver mentioned. The sign for it was half-chewed off and the wooden bench was worn and stained a sickly yellow beneath a flickering light. She considered for a moment sleeping there until the morning but then the ignominy hit her: to sleep on a dirty wooden bench under the flutter of moths and mosquitoes. To come home unwashed and stinky with her hair a mess and her stockings torn. And if any of the neighbours saw her… No. She walked past that bus stop and didn’t look back, and soon found herself surrounded by darkness again.

“You deserve it,” she muttered as she wrapped her arms around herself, her body ambling forward with none of the grace and poise she had half an hour before. “How could you fall asleep? You weren’t even that tired, and the bus ride is so noisy. You couldn’t wait another ten minutes to get home? Idiot, idiot…”

The walk back to the city was taking longer than she thought it would, and by eight o’clock she was still out there. The sky was sprinkled with stars and the wind was flitting gently through her hair and the creatures in the bushes were growing ever louder. If she weren’t so cold and terrified she might have felt exhausted. Her feet hurt and her back was bent under the weight of her purse and she hadn’t eaten since noon. But suddenly, in the distance, she saw a glint of something made of glass and metal — it was a phone booth. The joy that rushed through her wiped all her pain away and she hurried to reach it, nearly tripping. She felt halfway home as soon as she stepped inside its murky walls.

“Please work, please work, please please please.”

She picked up the receiver and held it on her shoulder as she opened the phone book and started leafing through for the nearest police station. They would be obliged to come and pick her up — that is if she could only explain where she was…

“Hello? Operator?” But no voice came from the other side. The tone was dead. “Operator?” she tried again, her voice growing shaky. “Hello? Anyone?”

As she kept tapping on the phone hook, desperate to reach someone, a bright light came peeking over the horizon from the direction she had just come from. It couldn’t have belonged to a car but whatever it was that approached her was fast and loud as all hell. She held her breath as she watched it getting bigger, brighter, closer. This was the only driver she’d seen the whole night and she was equal parts hopeful and horrified of just what it could be. After all, what kind of person would be out driving at this hour on a weekday?

She forgot about the telephone as she followed this strange light until it was close enough to blot out all the darkness. It blinded her for a moment but that thunderous rumble soon settled to a pur and it stopped on the other side of the road from her. When her eyes adjusted to the brightness she realised it was a motorcycle, thin and lean and silver.

Its rider propped himself against the ground on one long leg clad in blue jeans and reached into his pocket. He was tall and slender, his figure swathed in shadows, his motions simple but relaxed and almost elegant.

“It doesn’t work,” he said as he lit a cigarette. “Been broken for a while now.”

The flash of flame from his zippo lighter gave her a hint of his face. He was young, perhaps even younger than her, with full pink lips and a slight stubble, soft blue eyes, and a sprinkle of dirt like freckles on his face. There was a wildness to him and an air of gentleness as well, but his jacket was a dark denim and thick with patches, symbols that probably meant something to him — he must’ve belonged to some sort of “club”. She didn’t know much about bikers aside from what she read about them in the papers, but they’d always seemed to be a bunch of layabouts. Aside from drinking far too much and smoking she knew they got into trouble with the law, had fights, caused accidents, and were generally dangerous to be around.

“I’m… just trying to get to town,” she said in a wary voice.

“Well, I’m headed that way.”

She said nothing, her hand still frozen on the telephone.

“Want a ride?”

It was a tempting offer but one that made her shiver. She’d never been around a man like that, never even exchanged words with one, and everything that she expected from his kind — rudeness, lewdness, and a bad attitude — was suspiciously absent from him. He looked at her with those soft eyes, his long leg braced against the road, and waited. She should have accepted his offer, she should have just gotten on his bike and wrapped her arms around him, but… she couldn’t.

“No, thank you.”

He kept on smoking quietly and looked her up and down much as she’d done with him. She wondered what he saw… She was probably a pathetic sight and a strange kind of person to come across in such a place. When his eyes finally left her figure they strayed across the wilderness. There was nothing around them for miles, they both knew that, and other cars wouldn’t be around that road for hours.

“You know how far away you are?” he asked, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

“I’ll be fine.”

“It’s a long walk.”

“I don’t want to…” She was about to say she didn’t want to ride all the way back with a stranger but instead said, “trouble you.”

He didn’t react at first, keeping that air of stillness about him that made her wonder what he thought. But after a few moments, he nodded and dropped the cigarette, crushed it underneath his boot, and with a leisurely motion mounted his bike once more and revved the engine up. Before she could say another word he’d already sped into the distance and left only a cloud of dust behind.

She almost felt sorry to see him go. Almost felt guilty too… She didn’t want her distrust of him to be so apparent or to cause offence, no matter what kind of a person he was. But she told herself he must’ve been a dangerous man and that she was better off alone than riding back to town with him. Well, she wouldn’t be riding back with anybody now… The telephone line was dead, just as he’d said. The wire must’ve been disconnected somewhere.

She wanted to cry. Instead, she began to walk once more, trudging through the dark.

The sky was as black as a curtain cast across a silent stage and against it lit from below the pale lights of interspersed lamps. The roaring of the bike got slowly lost in the road that lay before her and soon only her steps echoed to remind her of how alone she was. She watched the small light of the rider fade and hugged herself against the cold, holding the purse to her chest as if it could protect her. Her feet were hurting so much she worried they were bleeding and she considered taking them off until she looked down at the road and its uneven dirty tar. She closed her eyes even as she kept on walking, too tired to gaze out at the same old nothingness again.

But then she heard a roar floating on the wind and felt a tremble in her chest as if an earthquake was approaching, and when she opened her eyes again she saw that lone light making its way back to her. He seemed to ride back faster than he did as he was leaving and he reached her in no time at all. She slowed down to a stop and so did he, parking right beside her.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward, boyish way. “Look, I’m sorry if I scared you earlier. But I can’t just leave you out here. You sure you don’t want to —”

“Alright,” she said, her voice already weak and weary. She was hungry and cold and scared that she’d never make it back to town that night. Too scared to refuse his help a second time. “Just… just get me to the edge of town. I can make my own way home from there.”

If he was surprised at how quickly she accepted now, he didn’t show it. He simply moved closer to the front of his seat and made space for her behind him.

She took a deep breath and approached him carefully as if he rode a beast, not something made of metal. It looked solid and precariously thin at once and yet he straddled it confidently. The saddle looked just big enough for two. She hopped on as best she could and tried to keep her legs together but when he looked at her over his shoulder he shook his head and laughed.

“Legs on either side,” he said. “You’ll fall off if you ride like that.”

“But, my skirt…”

He looked up and down her legs and she tried not to read too much into the way his eyes had darkened.

“Roll it up,” he said in a low and soothing voice. “Don’t worry. I won’t look.”

She held her breath as she rolled her skirt up high enough so that she could throw her other leg over the side. He waited while she settled into the position and planted her feet firmly.

“Ready? Hang on,” he said as he revved the engine up. “I’ll go real slow, alright?”

“A-alright…” she said as she placed her hands timidly around his waist.

But he didn’t go slow, at least not by her standards.

It was completely different to riding in a car, more visceral and real with no windows to protect her. She let out a little scream and clung to his body more tightly than she meant to, eyes falling shut, legs tightening around his bike. He smelled of gasoline and metal and several days’ worth of sweat cooled down by the chilly autumn night but he felt so solid in her arms, so firm and steady, even as the world flashed by. Eventually, she was brave enough to rest her cheek against his back and opened her eyes to look at the vacant countryside. It was a little frightening, as she expected, but peaceful too. As she fisted her hands in his jacket, right over his heart, she tried to peek over his shoulder but could just see the side of his face, focused and relaxed, and the white circle of the headlight. Somehow, that was enough for her. His hair tickled her forehead, feeling softer than it had any right to be, and she found herself smiling. There was something base and ancient in the way he smelled, the way he spoke, even in the way he moved. It was as if he had in him the blood-memory of an ancient Knight on armoured steed galloping alone and steadfast through the fields and woods of untamed lands.

The outskirts of town were much tamer than that, however, and before long they could see the faint lights of the outermost buildings, squalid flats, and blinking advertisements. When he started slowing down she felt herself breathe a sigh of relief. It must’ve tickled the back of his neck because he bent his head forward as if to get away — or to ask for more.

“Where are we?” she asked once the noise of the motorcycle died down.

“Marshal Avenue,” he said, easing the bike to the side of the road.

She didn’t know exactly where that was, but she guessed they were on the other side of town from where she lived. All along the street were boarded-up shops, derelict flats, and liquor stores. Across from where he parked was a building that looked to be about a hundred years old. She could hardly fathom walking home at that hour, especially through a neighbourhood like that, but it was better than being in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, thank you. For the ride.”

He lit another cigarette and dismounted the bike, rolling his broad shoulders to unwind. She got off quickly, scrambling to cover her legs in the crumpled skirt before he turned around and saw her. He gave her a look over his shoulder when he heard her fussing and slowly turned around.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

“Yeah, I… I can walk from here.”

He looked at her and stayed quiet but there was something in his eyes behind that veil of smoke that made her curious about what he had to say. He simply nodded and turned toward that old building behind him. She hugged herself and looked up and down the street, waiting for him to say anything — to ask for money, to make fun of her for thinking she could make it home, to make a pass at her…

“Well, good night,” she said.

And as soon as she started walking away he spoke to her again.

“Hey, it’s kinda late. They got rooms upstairs.”

“What?” she asked, turning on her heels a bit unsteadily.

“Owner knows me,” he shrugged, crushing the cigarette beneath his boot and immediately lighting up another. “Could get you one for cheap.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another and looked around pretending to think… but her eyes kept coming back to him. He puffed quietly away and gazed at her with no design behind those clear blue eyes, looking just as uncertain and awkward as she felt standing in the middle of the street. She didn’t want to trust him but a part of her responded in the same way that she did when she saw a homeless puppy.

“You mean, a room of my own?”

“Yeah.”

She looked from him to the large building again.

He could probably tell that she was torn because he helpfully supplied, “They got food too. Hungry?”

She was. It had been over twelve hours since she’d eaten or had anything to drink.

“I kind of am.”

“Me too,” he said. “Come on.”

[gatitties]

Clumsy

─ Crusaders stands x reader

─ Summary: You're the dumbest person Jotaro knows, even without a stand, they all seem to adore and protect you

─ Warnings: none

─ Being friends with Jotaro is already an achievement, although it was not on your part or his, both mothers were neighbors and close friends, so from there a rare friendship was born.

─ You are like the sun and the moon, there is no need to clarify who is who, even though sometimes you are not so bright, Jotaro is definitely not a sun.

─ In any case, you are much more expressive than your friend, and, definitely much more stupid, clumsy, distracted, careless, curious, optimistic... it's not like it's very difficult anyway.

─ Jotaro once said “The only difference between a rock and you, is that the rock can't trip over itself.” “And you have the same expressiveness as a rock and nobody says anything to you.” From time to time you have witty phrases, just from time to time.

─ He really can't understand how you were so dumb and at the same time attentive from one moment to the next, how you go from having the mentality of a fried fly to an average human from one moment to the next.

─ He also doesn't understand how you are so clumsy sometimes and the amount of luck that protects you from having broken any bones so far.

─ He doesn't even bother to catch you when he sees you trip on something because you mysteriously stood up again, not because of you of course, there is always something that prevents you from falling.

─ Then there was the whole "evil spirit" thing that turned out to be his power manifesting in the form of a stand.

─ You were there when the fight with Kakyoin happened but you came out unharmed, although the boy who was being controlled threatened you too, saying that you were a great evil for a certain DIO, which you doubted.

─ Joseph thought that this guess was because you also had a powerful stand, perhaps so powerful that it would be an impediment for DIO, however, you couldn't see anything when Avdol showed his Magician's Red, nor any of the others.

─ Then they assumed that it was some kind of mistake, or they had confused you with someone else, until when you were gathered in the Kujo dwelling, you stood up almost spilling a steaming cup of tea on yourself.

─ Almost, because the four stands rushed to catch the hot drink and hold you in place so you wouldn't trip, you didn't even notice what happened because you were more attentive in greeting your mother, who arrived to see how her sick friend and neighbor was doing.

─ So, in simple words, you were like a magnet attracting stands, and somehow they would protect you, there were no clear explanations for this event yet.

─ You thought the boys had drank another kind of tea when they explained everything to you, but it doesn't matter, the only thing that stayed in your simple brain was a trip to Egypt and saving Jotaro's mother, so you ventured with them.

─ Jotaro assured that even if you encountered danger on your own, you would scare it away as always with your luck.

─ Polnareff joins in later and is surprised when Silver Chariot stops a large rock from falling on you when he didn't even order it or see in time to react, everyone brings him up to date later on you and the strange attachment their stands have towards you.

─ Just imagine the five of them seeing an enemy, lined up, looking at each other seriously while you're on the sidelines, watching everyone fight by punching the air and shouting weird things, you don't understand anything so you keep drinking your milkshake, pushing up your sunglasses while you keep taking photos of tourist spots.

─ Please you have the boys covered in blood from the fight and all you can do is pat them on the head and say “good job with… whatever you guys were doing.”

─ They think the enemies will try to attack you but their stands don’t hurt you either, they start to understand why you’re a threat to DIO, his stand surely refuses to attack you anyway.

─ What the hell are you? The holy divinity of stands?

─ Anyway, you feel a little bad man, all those stands do all their efforts so that your clumsiness or others don’t hurt you and you can’t even see them.

─ You wanted to compensate them or see them somehow, which ended in your five friends covered in flour because you thought that would work to see the figure of their stands, which didn’t happen.

─ So you started talking to the air, looking near the boys hoping that the point you were looking at was where they were.

─ Sometimes they aren't even out but you keep talking to the air, they appreciate it though.

─ Star Platinum usually grabs your arm when you trip over your own feet, Hermit Purple holds objects you accidentally drop, Heriophant Green will deflect sharp or dangerous objects that gravitate towards you, Silver Chariot will smash them with his sword and Magician's Red will be like a bodyguard, watching out for anything that could be harmful.

─ You start to differentiate them by touch, so you can thank them properly now and they are a little excited about it.

─ It's a bit whimsical really, but the stands themselves hope you'll get your own so you can see them.

[comicaurora]

What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 4

Masterpost - Ao3

“Cassiopeia,” Danny murmurs, his eyes never leaving the glimmering void above him. “Though epsilon looks dimmer than it usually is. I wonder if it still has a ring...” Around him, the world is shadowed, the distant lights of cities visible on the horizon but not bright enough to truly disrupt his view of the night sky. It had been a bit nerve-wracking leaving the town, but he’d been making an effort to lay low for the last week, and had seen nothing to indicate anyone was coming to search for him. The idea of visiting the firefighters still makes his skin itch, but a little trip to stargaze had started seeming like a reasonable risk to take, and with the calm expanse of void above him, Danny can feel something deep inside of him settle. The buzz of fear that’s been around since before he even got here evaporates, as he counts the stars and constellations. They’re not all the same, Cygnus seems to be mostly missing, and a few of the individual stars Danny remembers seem to be gone, but for the most part, it’s the same. Certainly more familiar than anything else has been so far. The technology here is all far more advanced than anything Danny’s seen before, which is ironic considering the portal.

It’s funny, really that he can be this far away from home (a literally incalculable distance), and the stars are still generally the same. Even the ones that are new are still stars; still the same burning masses fueled by fusion and gravity, and feeding the universe at large with new material. They're still millions of light-years away, and yet they’ve been there for so long, streaming their light into a void, where it can eventually reach this very spot where Danny’s currently standing. All his problems seem so small in the face of the great expanse of space.

“Amazing!” Danny exclaims, letting himself just laugh with delight. Maybe he’s alone here, but has he ever felt this free before? Nobody to drag him away, or force him into fights, or yell at him about the chores he hasn’t done yet. Hell, if he really wanted to, he just take off, go hang out in space, maybe fly until he finds one of those alien planets that he’d seen mentioned on Wikipedia. Sure, it would probably take a stupid amount of time to get there, but he could , if he wanted.

Behind him, there’s a rush of air, and the sound of a person taking a breath, and Danny tears his gaze away from the stars, flipping himself into a fighting stance as he runs through the list of heroes he’d read about, trying to remember which of them could fly. As he turns, his eyes lock on to another boy, though, that looks to be close to Danny’s own age.

“Woah, dude.” The boy says, holding his hands up and floating a few feet backwards. “I’m not here to fight?”

“Then why are you here?” Danny asks. He is just a kid, so like, maybe , it’s safe, but also the symbol on the kids chest is the same one Superman was wearing, so he could just be a recruit or something.

“I dunno, man, I just heard you talking and got curious? Not exactly many people around that can just hang out in the sky, you know. I can leave if you want.” The other  boy’s expression seems sincere. Mostly he looks startled and a bit uncertain, and deeply unlike the weird, heroic, confident posture that Superman seemed to have in every picture. This guy looks like he’s trying to look confident, sure, but not like he actually is .

“You’re not Superman, but you’re wearing his logo.” Danny says. Dropping his stance, but not letting himself fully relax. Just because it’s not a fight, doesn’t mean he’s safe, after all.

“Yeah, uh, I’m Superboy.”

“Superboy,” Danny echoes. “I read something about sidekicks? Is that-” Danny cuts himself off when the other boy winces.

“No, I’m not his sidekick. More like he’s helping to train me. We’ve got the same powers, so... Yeah.”

“Huh. Training sounds... Nice? What’s that like?” Honestly, training sounds downright miraculous. Danny hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the destruction caused by the train crash, and how everyone in Amity had always complained about the damage caused by ghost fights. He hasn’t forgotten how much he’d gotten himself hurt in those early days either, not that anyone else had ever noticed that bit.

“Yeah, I guess it’s nice. I take it you don’t have a mentor, then?”

“I’m not a hero.”

“No? I thought- I mean, you look a lot like the description of the guy who helped with the train crash over in Concord.” Superboy frowns, glancing off in the direction of Danny’s hometown.

“I mean, yeah that was me but I’m not. I don’t wanna fight anyone.”

“Oh, yeah that’s totally fair.” Superboy immediately responds with a laugh. “Honestly most of what we do isn’t actually fighting people, so y’know. You don’t have to be a fighter to be a hero.”

“Oh.” That kinda makes sense. After all, Danny had done a lot of fighting back home, and nobody had called him a hero there.

“Yeah, it’s like. There’s a lot of stuff about emergency response and civilian rescue and stuff. Hell, from what I understand half of what the Bats do is just, like detective work. That’s a lot of what my training’s for, actually. I’m pretty good at destroying stuff, I guess, but Supes says I need better control, before I can be trusted to handle relief stuff, because I might accidentally hurt people with my strength or something.”

“That’s. Cool, I guess?” Danny risks a glance up at the stars. No attack comes with Danny’s split attention, though after a moment, Superboy slowly floats over to his side.

“What are you looking at?”

“The stars.”

“Just, like, in general?” Superboy asks. He sounds dubious, and Danny can feel him glancing between him and the sky every couple seconds.

“What, have you never gone stargazing before?” 

Superboy doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Danny glances over. The false confidence has completely evaporated from the other boy’s expression, and instead he just looks unsure.

“I’ve never really had the opportunity before.” Superboy finally murmurs, quieter than any of their conversation so far.

“Well, I guess you’re in luck!” Danny says, offering his new companion a smile. “Because I’m something of an expert in it!” And Danny begins to point to the different constellations, and tell Superboy as much as he can about all the stars and planets above them.

“You really are an expert, huh?” Superboy eventually says, in the middle of Danny’s tangent about why Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore. That had been one of his most interesting discoveries in his Wikipedia explorations. He’d been kind of surprised at first when it hadn’t shown up on the list of planets, but he’d specifically searched for it, he’d learned about it’s reclassification, along with all the reasoning behind it. He’d been a little sad at first, but the realization that it came alongside the implication about a whole number of other bodies orbiting their sun had been exciting in it’s own way.

“Yeah,” Danny responds with a laugh. “I, uh, really like space. I actually wanted to be an astronaut as a kid.”

“But you don’t want to be one now?”

“I mean,” Danny hums. “It’d be nice, but I don’t think it’s really a plausible goal anymore. It- the way I got my powers came with some... complications. And anyway I kind of don’t legally exist anymore, so it’s. I can’t even go to space camp, let alone go to actual space.”

“Is that, uh, why you don’t have a normal heart beat? I didn’t wanna ask and be rude, but like, you sound kinda like a really large bee.”

“Yeah, that’s, um. I mean I’ve never been called a bee before, but yeah.”

“Wild. But like, if it’s meta stuff, then aren’t they legally not allowed to discriminate against you for it? They’re not just gonna be like ‘oh you don’t have a heartbeat guess you can’t go to space.’”

“I mean, there was, like, a meta scholarship on the website, but...”

“You’re worried about revealing your identity.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, that’s fixable. I mean, I didn’t have an identity to even reveal until this year, so the Justice League can definitely-”

“I don’t want them to know about me,” Danny interrupts.

“Oh.” Superboy says. “Well, what about just, like one person? Because Robin could definitely make you a whole new identity all by himself, and I know he has no qualms about keeping shit secret from everyone else.”

“Robin.” Danny thinks he remembers that name being referenced in relation to Batman. Something about a boy wonder. “Is he our age?”

“Yeah.” Superboy looks excited. “I could introduce you sometime if you want?”

“I dunno.” Even one Justice League associate knowing about him is concerning, and if Superboy knows about the thing with the train, then probably the adult members do too.

“Well, you don’t have to decide now! I have super hearing so if you call my name I’m almost guaranteed to hear it!”

“You can just hear me anytime?” Danny asks.

“Oh, uh. I mean technically yes? But generally it’s like effort to just tune into one person from a distance. But I listen for anybody calling for me, in case they need help or whatever, so I’m always kind of listening for that.”

“I’’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

“Right. Uh, do you wanna tell me more about the planets?”

[merlincmgirl]

Armour Kink - Boba Fett x FReader - NSFW

Bonus!

Summary: While admiring the way Boba holds court as Daimyo on Tatooine, you can't help but fixate on how good Boba looks in his armour. Boba notices.

Characters: Boba, Fennec

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 8,394

Warnings: PinV sex, fingering, teasing, armour kink, thigh riding, armour riding, spanking a little?, throne sex, possessive Boba, bratting, King Boba! dirty talk, soft!dom Boba

Authour's Note: I love Boba, and I want to be on that throne with him.

Watching Boba hold court was always something you enjoyed. Not only because some of the people who came to speak with the Daimyo were interesting characters but because you were able to stare at Boba for as long as you’re liked and nobody would question it. Boba commanded attention when he sat on the throne. All eyes were drawn to him, people hung onto his every word, and nobody wanted to get on the bad side of him.

Boba radiated power.

From across the room, you couldn’t help but chuckle at a bounty hunter fawning over the Great Boba Fett. It would seem that it was wearing a bit thin as Fennec was reaching for her rifle. Draining your spotchka, you thanked the bartender before sitting at the back of the room, directly across from the throne. It was the prime spot for you to watch Boba and for him to watch you.

“Get on with it!” Boba snapped, the room quieting down at his tone. There was a nervous shift in the atmosphere but you couldn’t help but grin up at the green helmet. Boba was particularly impatient today it seemed.

It might have had something to do with the way you had teased him that morning. You had waited until the very last moment before he left to strike. Seeing him without his helmet on, that beautiful, stern and regal face combined with the bulky, Mandalorian armour had you wet between your legs. Instead of dealing with that, you had slipped from the cool sheets that covered you and stalked over to him.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you had pressed your naked body against his, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. As Boba had brought you round to his front, pressing a delightful kiss to your lips and promising he would see you later on today, you couldn’t help but misbehave. So you had deepened the kiss, pressing your breasts against the cool metal of beskar and rolled your hips up into his. The rough material of his flight suit had you letting out a groan into his mouth, hips seeking friction against your clit once more.

As he had groaned deeply into your kiss, hands dragging down your ribs, your stomach and your hips, scooping around your thighs, ready to carry you back to bed; you pulled away with a teasing smirk and wishing him a good day before heading into the refresher.

Part of you expected him to join you, to say kriff to his schedule and fuck you to oblivion in the refresher. But as you washed the suds out of your hair, you knew better than that. Boba was a man that prided himself on the control that he had over himself and others. So what better way to show you that than by walking away and carrying on with the rest of his day.

It had been frustrating, letting the heat of arousal that had been starting to build into a fire in your belly douse down into a gentle simmer. There was still plenty of time to get what you wanted.

A loud thud had you flinching, brought back to the present as 2 glasses of spotchka was suddenly in front of you. Looking up to your left, you realised Fennec was looking down at you with a suspicious look.

“What?” you asked your friend, wondering why she was looking at you like that. “What’s that look for?”

Fennec shook her head, collapsing into the seat next to you. “What did you do?” she finally asked, pouring both of you a drink.

Chuckling at her and putting on your best innocent expression, you sent her a grin. “What makes you think I’ve done anything?” you wondered, mischievous glint still in your eye.

“Boba has been in a mood all day. That normally happens when you’re playing with your food” the assassin remarked, making you laugh at that. Well, she certainly wasn’t wrong.

“Oh really? Can’t he just be in a mood? I am entirely innocent” you said, smirking around the glass of spotchka.

Fennec hummed, not believing a word that you said, and looked like she was going to call you out on your bullshit. “Nothing innocent about the way you’ve been looking at him all day” she retorted, before draining her glass and standing up. “Duty calls, Princess. If you could hurry this show along, I’d be grateful” she stated, glancing between you and Boba before going back up to her place by his throne, one hand always resting on her rifle.

Stifling your giggles at the way Fennec had caught onto your game, you turned back to the middle of the room where Boba was holding court. The way that he was spread out across the wide throne had your eyes focused on his crotch. The casual way he kept his body relaxed, yet ready to spring up at a moment’s notice to fight and attack. It had you feeling very grateful for the spotchka you were nursing. Your throat was feeling very dry all of a sudden.

The bounty hunter was asking permission to hunt for a quarry on Tatooine, not a necessary requirement, but it was done to show respect to Boba. The name of the most feared and brutal bounty hunter in the galaxy still carried a lot of weight and respect, and many up and coming bounty hunter would fawn all over him to try and get either favour or advice from him.

It seemed Boba was getting bored of this one and quickly agreed, sending him on his way with a warning not to cause trouble for the residents that were under his protection. You had to duck your head, hiding the smile that split across your face at that. Boba had such a kind and caring heart, he had really took the people of Mos Espa and those further a field under his wing.

As the court waited for the next visitor to come walking through the doors, Boba’s helmet twisted, searching for you, stopping and tilting when he saw you sitting on the bench near the front of him. Normally you kept yourself away from the court, or at least towards the back where you could spy and listen to the whispers of those around you without much noticed being taken. It was a useful thing too, you had heard a lot of loose lips whispering about information that you had then forwarded onto Boba. It also allowed you to keep out of the public eye, not drawing too much attention to yourself. If something was to happen and you were taken hostage, you knew how to defend yourself, but Boba would be infuriated at anyone hurting his riddur.

Boba must have been checking in on you because he gave a small insusceptible nod to you before focusing on the Trandoshan bounty hunter that was walking down to meet with him.

Relaxing back into the seat, you shifted slightly to widen your legs, knowing that he was getting a glimpse of your pants. His head snapped in your direction for only a moment before his attention seemed to shift to the bounty hunter as he stepped out in front of him. You couldn’t help but drag your gaze up from the armour coving his shins, to the knee pads that could shoot rocket darts out of. Working your way up his thick, powerful thighs that, though baggy, was clear to see through his black flight suit underneath. You could just imagine how he would feel pressed against you, letting you ride his strong, thick muscles until you came just from that.

Feeling a bit breathless, you raised your eyes further up, biting your lip as you stared at Boba’s crotch. There was a slight bulge, not because he was hard, but he was just so damn big. You had spent many of a time just sitting in his lap, feeling that press against you as he touched you, whispering filth into your ears. Stars! You wished you could feel him now. Just imagining him pulling you back against his chest, spreading your legs over the arms of the throne and exposing you to the room. The way his fingers would feel rubbing your clit and buried inside of you.

Cursing, you clenched your legs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure that was building in between there. You looked up further, catching your eyes on his thick belt that held a number of different things. One time it had held a remote to some vibrating pants that you had worn, and all through the day he would tease you with them, activating them when you weren’t expecting it, or when you were talking to someone he didn’t particularly liked.

Up to his chest plates which protected his broad, strong chest. In the middle was a kar'ta, an Iron Heart, that was very important to Boba. Across his right cuirass was the Journeyman Protector symbol, a part of his history that Boba was proud of. It was the symbol of his grandfather Jaster Mereel, who had found and took in Jango Fett. Boba wore it proudly in honour of both his lineage and all the memories that his father had shared about Mereel.

Along his thick shoulders, Boba wore the sigil of Mandalore – a Mythosaur skull on the burnt orange of his left pauldron. It was a reminder of his culture, of his upbringing within the Mandalorian ways. No matter what he told others, he was the son of Jango Fett, once Mand’alor to the True Mandalorians. His father had taught him the language, the customs of his people, had shown him how to fight in a way only Mandalorians could. He was every bit as Mandalorian as the many scattered around the galaxy, and he was proud of it. You couldn’t help but smile, warmth filling you at how proud Boba was of his heritage and the way he displayed it in his sigils.

And then you dragged your gaze up to his helmet, and the black visor that you always seemed to get lost in. Although it never gave away any of Boba’s emotions, it was always so expressive to you. The slight tilt of the helmet, or the way it angled when Boba was displeased, it all helped you know exactly what Boba was feeling. He would deny it of course, because how could Beskar be so expressive? But you knew what to look out for, you had been with Boba for so long you could read the little changes in his body language, even if his face was hidden behind his helmet.

Although you knew what he was feeling, to others, the helmet was intimidating, never giving a hint as to what Boba was thinking or feeling. It made him extremely hard to negotiate with, which was why Boba wore it. He liked having people on the back foot, never knowing what to say or do and waiting for his lead. It was extremely clever of him and a power move that had worked on you a number of times.

A small gasp escaped you and you flushed even more when you looked back down to meet the black visor that was currently staring at you. Startled, you blinked in surprise before sending him a wicked grin, widening your legs just slightly so he could get a glimpse of what you were wearing underneath your dress. Boba seemed to stiffen on the throne and you couldn't help the swell of pride that swelled up in your chest. Little old you could distract the might Daimyo of Mos Espa while surrounded by bounty hunters, politicians and courtesans.

Grinning, you watched as Boba’s gloved hands tightened into fists, before they relaxed back to rest on the arms of the throne. Travelling up his arms, you admired the bulky, red-brown of his vambraces. They made him appear even bigger than he was, and they kept him connected to Slave 1, along with all his weapons and jet pack launcher that was by his feet. Not that he needed to appear bigger, Boba was just as powerful in his arms and hands as he was everywhere else. The hands that had killed too many people to count and could do unspeakable things to his enemies – were the ones that pressed sweet affections into your skin, the arms that you sought out after a terrible day or a nightmare. Where others had met their demise at Boba’s hands, you had always found love and protection in them.

“That is enough for today. Leave” Boba declared, everything instantly stilling and quieting in the room. Realising you had lost yourself in thoughts about Boba and his armour once more, you looked around the room, seeing everyone surprised at the announcement but beginning to move. The way he could just command a room like that, it made you cunt throb at the need to have him.

It seemed that Boba was impatient this evening, as his eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed up. “Get out!” Boba ordered, voice clear and frightful as it rung around the chamber. His helmet turned to you, and it froze you in your seat as the room burst into life.

As the people and aliens around you packed up their stuff and went home, you kept your eyes trained on Boba. His dark visor was staring into your own eyes, and you didn’t need the helmet off to know his eyes would be full of hunger and lust, just promising what he would do to you as soon as you were alone.

Once there was silence in the chamber, everyone gone and leaving the two of you alone. Fennec had been the last one to leave, levelling the both of you with a withering look before heading up the stairs and slamming the doors closed. It did nothing but make you feel even more excited to finally have Boba to yourself.

“Been staring at me all day, Princess. See something you like?” he remarked, running his gaze up and down your body as you strolled up to the throne.

“I did. A lot actually” you replied, stopping just in front of the stone steps.

Boba hummed, taking his helmet off and placing it to the side to rest on the wide arm rests before turning back to meet you with a heavy look. You were right, he looked ravenous for you, but still so damn in control of everything.

Not deigning your response with a reply, he held up his hands, crooking his fingers to you to get you closer to him.

And like a moth to a flame, you did. You climbed up the stairs, keeping your eyes on his own until your knees bumped against his. Being in Boba’s gaze was enough to make you feel a tingle run down your spine, wondering what exactly he was thinking to do to you. “I’m feeling tired suddenly, shall we take this upstairs?” you suggested, biting your lip enticingly.

Boba let out a low chuckle, his smile lighting up his face and making him look younger. “Oh, I don’t think so Princess. Take a seat” he instructed, patting his knee.

Heat flickered in your stomach at his words and the casual way he knew you would follow his orders. Leaning back into the throne, he watched as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Instead of pressing your hips against his, Boba pushed you back until you were perched on his knees, hands coming to squeeze and knead at your hips.

Frowning at him, you sent him a confused look, wanting to be closer to him, expecting him to want you to ride him. “I want you to sit right there, little one, and tell me what exactly got you so flushed in my court” Boba said, voice low as his eyes traced the way you swallowed hard, all the way down your neck and to the nice way your chest was displayed teasingly into your dress. It was a dress that Boba had brought you, in his own colours so that everyone knew you belonged to him.

Remembering all those thoughts that had been plaguing you while you had been watching him, you couldn’t help but flush at having to try and put those thoughts into words now. “I… er… I liked seeing you” you breathed, as one of his gloved hands trailed from your hip and squeezed your thigh. Right where it met your groin. It had you very distracted, and wondering if he could feel the heat from your core radiating through his pant leg.

“Go on, you can do better than that, Princess” he murmured, encouraging you on and you knew you had no choice but to listen to him.

��Sitting on your throne… commanding er… ruling Mos Espa. Oh, Boba!” you gasped, thoughts stuttering to a halt at the way he inched you forward on his leg just a little bit. It sent delicious friction up your cunt, as his thumb ran circles into your thighs, massaging the muscle there. Sliding your eyes closed, you began rocking your hips in time to the brushes up and down of his thumb.

However, Boba didn’t want that, giving your thigh a little pinch to bring your attention back to him. “That wasn’t all, was it, Princess?” he teased, leaning in closer to you. As you went to meet his lips with your own, he pulled back, chuckling at the frustrated grumble you let out at that. “Something else was making you spread your legs for me in the middle of all these people” he grinned, pushing your bunched up dress even further up your thighs until they rested on your hips, revealing the white panties that were soaked in your arousal.

Blinking, you couldn’t help but try and press forward, into the hands that was beginning their soothing strokes up and down your legs and hips. He’d run his hands over the swell of your hips, trace them down across your thigh and finishing at your inner thigh before staring again.

“I asked you a question, little one. I expect an answer” he warned, nails digging into the soft flesh that was trapped underneath his hands.

“You looked so good in your armour, Boba. Like a King… so powerful. And the way they all fear and respect you at the same time… It made me so wet for you” you tried to explain, moaning when Boba brushed his fingers slightly against your clothed clit. It had you bucking up into his hands before he swiftly pulled them away.

“You like me wearing my armour, Princess?” he asked, gripping your chin and pulling your face to meet his, eyes locking with your own. You could do nothing but nod, trapped in his heavy stare. “Like the way it feels against you?” he murmured, eyes darkening as you bit bottom lip.

“Yes” you whispered, because you damn well loved how he looked in his armour and the way it felt pressed against you. The hardness and unforgiving nature of it digging into your soft curves.

Boba grinned, reaching for the dress bunched at your waist and dragging it up and off you, throwing it to the side of his throne for it to be taken care of by one of the cleaning droids. He couldn’t help but admire your bare chest, taking in the soft mounds of your breasts and the way your nipples stiffened at being exposed to the cool air of his court.

Wanting nothing more than to squirm on his thigh, you rested your hands on his chest, trying to lean forward for a kiss instead. But he kept you pinned in place, a hand steady and firm on your chest as he pushed you back to sitting up for him. Sighing, you nodded in acceptance, you would stay where you were, for now. It wasn’t like it was a terrible position to be in, but you wanted to feel more of him. To feel his luscious lips against your own, peeling them open and devouring you in a kiss.

However, you were distracted as Boba raised his hands in between you, before his white teeth bit into the leather of his glove, easing it off his hands. Your breath stuck in your throat at the way his teeth had wrapped around the material, careful not to bite his own finger. You could just imagine that mouth doing the same to your nipple, the way he would drag his teeth over the bud and pull on it slightly, just to hear the moans that would slip from your mouth. He did the same to the other hand before he collected them both, tucking them into the side of his belt.

Mouth suddenly very dry, you took in a steadying breath as his warm, bronzed, calloused hands ran up and down your sides, squeezing slightly at your ribs before sliding down in a soothing pressure.

“Do you know, Princess, Mandalorian armour is very special. This belonged to my father, it has my genetic chain code inside it so everyone knows it belongs to me” he stated, shifting his legs slightly and causing you to grip onto his forearms to keep yourself steady. You did know that, why was he telling you again.

“Children used to put their painted handprints on to bring luck and to carry them with their parents. I think I want your cum dripping off it instead” Boba announced, placing his helmet on his thigh, the black visor seeming to stare at you.

“Boba, you can’t say stuff like that” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut. It felt like your heart had dropped into your cunt in surprise. He couldn’t be serious, could he? The thought had slick leaking from your entrance and you would have pressed your legs together if they wasn’t spread over his thick lap.

“Why not? I want you to ride my helmet, Princess. Leave your mark for everyone to see” he smirked, pressing his knee further up into you and causing you to whine at the way it pressed against your sensitive area.

No doubt you wouldn’t be leaving here until his helmet was covered in your juices. A badge of honour for your Daimyo. The thought of him heading out to Mos Espa, to walk among his people with your juices soaked into the beskar had you dripping even more. Oh god, when he went to the rebuilt Sanctuary then his helmet would be washed and cleaned. They would know exactly what any marks covering his helmet was.

Breath stuttering in your chest and your face burning, you looked into the dark eyes of your riddur. His scarred, yet smooth bronzed skin had a slight pink tinge to it as well, obviously you wasn’t the only one unaffected by this.

Knocking the view viewfinder down so that you could be more comfortable and so it wouldn’t break, you pushed yourself up onto your knees. You wanted to do this, couldn’t wait to see him walking around Mos Espa, knowing that his helmet was your juices dripping down it.

However, Boba stopped you, squeezing your thigh to keep you still before hooking his fingers into the waistline of your underwear. “You won’t be needing these, Princess” he stated.

It was the only warning you had, as Boba ripped them from you, throwing them to the side in a tattered pile that landed on your dress. The move had you dripping but you couldn’t help the squawk of indignation at him just ruining your pants, you only had so many. “Boba! I liked those!” you protested, but he just sent you a pleased grin.

“I’ll buy you a hundred more, Princess” he assured, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours.

Resting your hands on his shoulders, feeling the cool beskar beneath your hands, you chased after his lips, determined to get a real kiss off him. Feeling the chuckle rumble against your lips from him, he slipped a hand into your hair, fisting it tightly so he could lick against the seam of your mouth, dipping inside when you gasped at his probing tongue.

Boba kissed you like he was planning to devour you. Like you were the last bit of water on all of Tatooine and he had to have you. He pressed his tongue against yours, teasing and exciting you as he swallowed your moans. The hand in your hair not letting you escape until you whined, and he finally let you go to take in deep panting breaths of air.

“Go on, Princess, ride my helmet” he ordered, helping to position you so that you were over his helmet.

Sinking down had you gasping, fingers clenching on his shoulders for support as the cool, smooth texture touched your sensitive, soaked folds. Closing your eyes at the sensation, you couldn’t help but pull away slightly so as to not become overwhelmed so quickly. The wide dome of his helmet pressed against you, forcing your legs wide around it as you began to rock against it.

Panting, you began at your own rhythm, rocking and grinding down against the helmet, cursing every time it rubbed just right against your clit. You could feel your slick and heat transferring to the metal, the slick helping to guide your way around the green bucket.

Warm hands came up to cup your breasts, and you peeled your eyes open to look down at Boba. He was watching you, eyes fixed on your face as you took your pleasure from his helmet. Your breasts was bouncing in his face, and he squeezed them roughly, sending heat shooting down into your already throbbing core.

“Boba! Oh, please touch me” you begged, pushing your chest into his hands and keeping up the rocking of your hips. It felt wonderful to have his hands on you, feel the way they set fire to you with every brush and stroke against you.

“Look at you, ad’ika. Enjoy riding my helmet so much” he groaned, thumbs brushing over your pebbled nipples, touch just on the right side of rough. “Should see how much is dripping from you, I won’t be able to see out of my visor” he teased, glancing down at the way your slick was sliding down his helmet.

You whined at his words, at the way he was pinching and pulling at your sore buds while you rode his helmet. It was becoming too much, your first release was starting to build as you quickened your pace against his helmet.

“That’s it, Princess. I know you’re close” he moaned, hand sliding around your back to bring you closer to his mouth. He took a bud into the warm, wet heat of his mouth, laving attention on the stiffened peak until it had you bucking your hips forward, chasing your pleasure. “Gonna cum just from riding my helmet? Dirty girl!” he growled, teeth grazing over your nipple and tugging at it sharply.

Combined with his words, the way he was pinching and biting and pulling at your sore nipples, and the way his helmet felt so good between your legs – spreading you wide and gliding just right under your throbbing clit, it had you falling over the edge. Your cries echoed around the stone chamber, not that you cared. The whole of Tatooine could hear just how hard Boba could make you cum, and he didn’t even need to fuck you with his cock to do it.

“That’s it, good girl, Princess. You did so well” Boba praised, helping you to raise off his helmet and sit on his lap once more. You shuddered into his chest, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm and Boba wrapped an arm around your waist. Bringing you closer to him and pressing a reassuring kiss on your head, he picked up his helmet and placed it onto the arm rest. “Open your eyes, Princess. See what you’ve done to my armour” Boba instructed, hand gliding soothingly up and down your back.

Blinking at him, you turned to face the helmet and couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched around nothing at the sight. All along the green helmet there was streaks of your cum, your slick had run over his visor and you could see more arousal dripping down the sides of it. It had you both embarrassed and proud at having marked his armour like that. Everyone would know that he was yours, and you were his.

“Bit late to get embarrassed now, little one. You did so well” Boba chuckled warmly, affection clear in his tone and the way he squeezed you into his chest. “Are you okay for more?” he asked, nuzzling your nose with his.

“Always ready for more with you” you smiled, leaning up to press a loving kiss to his lips. He returned it, letting you direct the kiss for a moment before he turned it into a more passionate kiss, drawing out little moans of pleasure and want. You sighed against his lips, pushing yourself up to straddle him properly, sitting down onto the hard bulge in his flight suit.

Boba hissed out at the contact, hands squeezing your sides at the way you felt against him. Even through his under-suit he could feel just how hot you were, could feel your slick leaking into the material. Tilting his head, he pulled away with a small gasp, although it was lost in your noise of complaint.

“Don’t be greedy, Princess” he chided, running his hand up your thighs and positioning you a bit better for him. He lifted you up slightly, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping kisses along his jaw and neck while his fingers found your dripping folds.

“Kriff, Princess, is this all for me? I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re so wet” Boba cursed, gathering your release and arousal on his fingers before circling your clit with them.

“Hmm! Boba, just for you. Only you can make me feel like this” you sighed, burying your face into his neck.

“That’s right, Princess. Only I can make you feel like this, can make you cum just on their helmet” he teased, delighting in the way you groaned, trying to bury your way into his skin to hide. “I’m teasing, little one, you know how much I enjoyed that” he soothed, rocking his hips up into yours and letting you feel his erection pressed into your inner thigh.

“Please Boba, want you inside of me” you grumbled, becoming impatient yourself at the way he was just sliding his fingers around your entrance, never pushing in, but setting a dull ache in your core. He never built your pleasure, just kept it simmering on a low heat.

“Not yet, little one, have to prepare you first. Always think you can take me but you clench so hard around my cock, even after I’ve stretched you open for me” he smirked, and you didn’t even have to look at his face to know that there would be a smug expression spread across it.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to buck against his hand, get him moving things along as heat licked at your core. “Boba, I want you now!” you ordered, digging your nails into the nape of his neck.

He hissed, one hand coming to land around your throat, although he never squeezed, just kept it there as a warning. While his other hand delivered a sharp swat on your inner thigh.

Yelping at the sharp sting that left, you couldn’t help but buck into him even more, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as you felt yourself clench around nothing. Stars! You wanted him to do that again, as you leaned into the hand that was resting at the base of your throat.

“Don’t be a brat, little one!” he growled, hard eyes boring into your own and keeping you pinned under his gaze. “I won’t hurt you. So I’m going to open you up on my fingers and you’re going to thank me for it. When I think you’ve had enough, then I’m going to fuck your pretty little cunt until you can’t say anything but my name. But only when I decide, do you understand, little one?” he warned, voice rumbling out of him in a low and dark tone that had your thighs quivering at it.

“Yes, sir” you breathed, mouth falling open slightly at the way he tightened his grip around the side of your neck briefly before letting go once more.

“You’ve remembered some manners, Princess. Now, be a good girl and let me feel you clenching around my fingers” he ordered, sliding his hand between your legs once more.

He ran his fingers over your engorged clit one, two, three more times before he dipped between your folds and circled your entrance before he was pushing one of his thick fingers inside of you. He pulled out so only his finger up until his first knuckle was inside of you, before running around the rim of your hole, testing just how tight you were inside of your clenching hole.

“Boba!” you whined, burying your face into his shoulders at the way he was exploring you. Even though he knew your body like the back of his hand, he couldn’t help but want to tease out the delightful sounds of pleasure that you let out.

Noticing the way you were relaxing around his probing finger, he pushed it even further inside of you, crooking them, just like he did when he was calling for you up to his throne. Guiding you back a little so he could see the slacked mouth expression on your face as he pushed in a second finger, stretching you open even more for him. He groaned as the pressure in his flight suit became more pronounced with the way you just seemed to melt around his fingers. Sighing, he pressed his lips against your collarbone, sucking and licking marks into your skin so that others would know just exactly who you belonged to.

At a particularly sharp graze of his teeth against your collarbone, you let out a loud cry, rocking your hips and grinding down onto his hand. Normally Boba stretched you with three fingers, insisting that was the minimum he would use to make sure you were stretched and ready for him. He was always a large man, and that translated to other areas of his anatomy. You just knew that you were going to feel him for days after this.

Sucking the skin into his mouth, laving it with his tongue in apology, he pulled back, pleased to see the already darkening patch of skin at the base of your throat. He felt the way your walls tightened around his fingers, drawing and pulling him in every time he pulled them out. Like your desperate little hole couldn’t be without his fingers filling it up. “You take my fingers so well, don’t you, mesh’la?” he hummed, pleased and smug at being the one to make you like this.

Tilting your head down, you watched as his fingers disappeared inside of you, bending them just right so that they brushed against the spongy patch inside of you. When Boba entered a third finger into you, you couldn’t help the loud cry you let out, hearing it echo around the deserted room as Boba continued to stroke and rub at the delicious spot that had you shuddering.

Of course, Boba noticed and couldn’t help but say something, loving to tease you when you were like this. So desperate and needy in his lap, at his mercy as your cries of pleasure rung out in the room because of him. “Look at you, I’ve only just started using my fingers and you’re already shaking for me” he chuckled darkly, thumb coming to rub circles against your clit.

“OHHH! Boba! There! Please, right there” you yelped, feeling the way his thick, delicious fingers were pressed inside of you, while his thumb was massaging and rubbing at your bundle of nerves.

“I know, little one. I’ll get you there. Go on, ride my fingers” he shushed, cooing at you as he felt the way your walls tightened and relaxed around him.

Your thighs were burning at this point, and you couldn’t help the small whine that fell from your lips as you raised your hips up off him before sinking down onto his fingers. You ground against them, bucking and rolling your hips as he kept stimulating your clit, rubbing small circles on it and making the coil inside of you tighten.

“Boba please, I- I can’t” you pleaded, shuddering against him as you bucked your hips.

“Sshh, Princess. You just lie there, I’ll take care of you” he soothed, licking a stripe up the side of your neck before nibbling at the hinge of your jaw and pulling a moan from you. He pulled you down to rest against his chest while he pumped his fingers out of you faster and faster, building up your release until you had no choice but to fall over the edge, calling out his name as you shivered against his heaving chest.

“That’s it Princess, good girl. You look so beautiful cumming around my fingers, I know you’re going to be radiant when you cum around my cock” Boba said quietly, withdrawing his fingers from you and pulling them into his mouth. He let out a loud groan at the taste, watching as your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at the sight of him sucking your release from his fingers.

“Fuck Boba! You… you’re going to kill me” you chuckled breathlessly, licking your lips as you watched him.

He let out a huff of amusement before he was pushing you up back onto your feet in front of him. Your knees wobbled but you locked them, managing to keep yourself straight with the help of his strong, steady hands on your hips.

“Don’t die on me just yet, little one. I’m going to fuck you now. Do you still want that?” he checked in, pushing himself up to stand as well. Pulling you into him, he supported your weight with his body, making sure you were alright to continue.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his armour felt pressed against your sweaty, panting body, still shaking slightly from the aftershocks of your powerful orgasms. “I still want that, Boba, but I think my legs will give out before you get the chance” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.

“That’s alright little one, all I want you to do is lie right here, I’ll take care of the rest” he assured, leading you over to the side of his throne. He grabbed one of the pillows and throws someone had left as tribute and placed them so you could lie comfortably.

As you bent over the wide arm rests, you couldn’t help but sigh, glad of Boba’s attention to your comfort levels. The pillows and throws helped soften the rough edges so they weren’t digging into your skin. Resting your head against the seat, you let yourself relax, waiting for Boba.

You weren’t waiting long, as you felt his dexterous fingers run up and down your slit, collecting the arousal dripping from you. Boba nudged your legs wider, planting himself firmly between your spread legs. “Kriff, you’re so beautiful, Princess. Wish you could see how you look from here” Boba praised, running his fingers gently over your aching clit.

You jolted, a surprised giggle escaping you as well. “I think you appreciate the sight more than I ever will, Boba” you told him, wiggling your hips at him.

You heard an answering snort of amusement before hands were gripping your cheeks and spreading you wide open for his gaze. Moaning, you buried your face into your arms, muffling your sounds.

A sharp crack had you jumping, and you instantly reached back to clutch at your cheek where Boba had spanked you. “Ah! I want to hear you, Princess. Don’t you dare muffle any of your moans” he rebuked, stroking the sting away with his palm running over the reddened cheek.

Nodding, you lifted your head a little and let our a shaky breath, trying to push back into him. “Sorry, just really need you inside of me. Taking me, claiming me, making everyone know who I belong to” you groaned, knowing your words would entice him to fuck you and not draw this out.

“Fuck! Princess! Everyone is going to hear you screaming my name” he promised, gripping the base of his thick, heavy cock in his hand and rubbing it over your slit. He circled the tip around your clit before sliding once more between your glistening folds.

“Boba please! Fuck me!” you begged, eyes squeezed shut at the zap of pleasure that shot from your cunt all the way up your spine, leaving you breathless and feeling like you were on fire.

Chuckling darkly, Boba notched the head of his cock at your entrance, barely pressing in enough to stretch your opening around the dome shaped head of his cock. “You asked for it, little one” he smirked, before pushing inside of you with a steady thrust, unrelenting of his pace as he continued to stretch your quivering walls around him.

Panting, you moans and cries coming out broken from your mouth as your legs shook, glad of the way the throne was holding you up. It felt like he was splitting you in two, even with the way he stretched you around 3 of his fingers. The heavy, feeling of his cock made you feel stuffed full, like there was no other space inside of you for him to press into. Your hands clutched and scraped on the hard stone of the throne, desperate to clutch onto something.

Boba must have realised that, because he grasped your hands in his, flattening them so you couldn’t hurt yourself against the stone. He reached back and pressed his gloves into your hands instead.

Instantly you began squeezing and tugging on them, as you adjusted to his size, trying to gain a steady breath at the way he just filled you up so perfectly. It felt like he was carving a place inside of you for himself, never wanting to let you go as his hands squeezed your hips, stopping you from pressing back into him.

“There we go, Princess, all inside of you now” Boba purred, brushing a warm, calloused hand down your spine and delighting in the way you relaxed further around his cock. “Is this what you needed when you were being a brat this morning? Knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d be back in this greedy cunt again” Boba growled, pulling back out of you before slamming inside of you with one powerful thrust.

“AAH! BOBA!” you screamed, as he forced you further across his throne. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” you whined, as he began to set a fast pace, fucking into you quickly and drawing out slowly that allowed you to feel the heavy weight drag across that sweet spot inside of you.

“That’s it, little one. I’ve got you, just going to lie there and take what I give you, won’t you? Be my good girl” Boba said, voice light and soothing but the words had you sinking into him, whining softly as you nodded. He couldn’t help the groan that he let out at the feel of you just accepting everything he gave you. He rewards you with leaning forward, the heavy weight of his chest plate pinning you further into the throne as he lay nips and kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders.

The feel of him pressing you down, his hips fit snugly against yours had your breaths stuttering in your chest. He felt so big, encompassing you and keeping you still for him. It felt so good to feel that cool Beskar against your heated, sweat-slicked skin. The way his vambraces dug into you slightly as he held your sides.

“Boba please!” you whined, turning your head so that you could briefly catch his lips in a kiss. It was a messy kiss, over just as quick as it had begun but it had pleasure curling in your core. “Fuck! Need more, please!” you begged, hand reaching around to wrap around his neck and keep him close to you.

Boba’s deep groan filled your ear and you couldn’t help but clench around him at such an erotic sound. You had done this to him, fired him up enough that he had dismissed his court and was fucking you over his throne.

“Such a greedy thing” he admonished, grunting as he slamming his cock inside of you once more. “I am fucking you” he reminded, pulling your hips back against his own. But still he pulled himself away from you and rested a hand on the nape of your neck, keeping your face twisted to the side, while the other squeezed your hip tight enough to leave bruises. “But if you want more, Princess… Well, you know I can never say no to you” he chuckled, pounding into you now as he kept your hips up, driving his cock into your fluttering walls.

The squelching noise as he fucked you deep hit your ears, you could hear just how wet you were, how every thrust made that sound. Your slick was wetting the inside of your thighs and his crotch, but he didn’t care, driving down into you over and over until all you could think of was Boba and so good! You clung onto the other arm rest, trying to keep yourself steady as you let out sobs of pleasure. Tears were beginning to sting your eyes as he reached around you to rub at your clit.

“BOBA!” you yelped, letting out a guttural moan at the way he was filling you, driving your release closer and closer with every press against your cervix.

“Kriff! You feel so good, Princess. So tight around my fat cock” he hissed, driving into you harder and winding his hand into your hair. Tugging slightly, but making sure you didn’t move too much from the position he put you in.

You moaned, feeling the way you were exposed for him, the way his fingers rubbed at your clit and his cock spearing into you. It was becoming too much, and you could feel the way your walls were clutching onto his thick cock.

“Can feel you shaking around me, little one. Are you going to cum for me? Let me fill your sweet hole up with my cum?” he growled, rolling his hips inside of you and moaning at the way you clung to him so tightly he could barely move. “Fuck Princess! Feels like you’re swallowing me up” he groaned, nudging your legs a little wider so he could hit that spot deeper.

“Oh!” you gasped, arching up into him as much as possible while he kept you pinned down. The coil in your stomach was tightening, and you felt so close to the edge. All you needed was a little more, you didn’t know what but Boba did. “Yes! Yes! Please, Boba, please!” you chanted, lost in the pleasure that he was stoking inside of you.

“Cum for me Princess” he ordered, pinching your clit and sending you crashing over the edge.

You cried out his name, hearing it echo around you as you shook, vision going white as your released washed over you. Everything became too much and not enough as you felt Boba slam his cock deep inside of you a couple more times before he was shooting his hot release into your fluttering channel. His snarl of your name filling the chambers as well.

Carefully he pulled away from your sensitive clit, pulling himself away from you and rubbing up and down your body, soothing the tremors that still ran through you. He pressed kisses along your shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. How you were such a good girl for him, how he can’t get enough of you, that you are everything he was searching for. He pressed love into you, making sure you calmed down with the help of his steady hands and soothing voice.

When both of your breaths returned to normal, Boba pulled out and helped you to stand up.

Grimacing, you clenched your thighs, hoping to stop the mess that was already leaking down your thighs. He reached for some water and a cloth behind his throne and you shot him a surprised look.

“Do you just keep cleaning supplies behind your throne for this occasion?” you demanded, hissing slightly at the cool temperature as he wiped you clean.

Boba gave you an unimpressed look before turning back to cleaning you up. “I know just how much you like to see me sitting on the throne, little one. You’re not as subtle as you think” he stated, eyes crinkling in the corners in amusement.

Even though he had been balls deep inside of you only a few minutes ago, you couldn’t help but flush at his words. He would be using that knowledge to tease you no doubt. Burying your face into his chest, you heard him chuckle and the gentle kiss press against your head.

“Come on, Princess, lets go back to our rooms. I’ll run you a nice bath and we can have a soak” Boba offered, running his palms up and down your arms.

“That’ll be nice. Can you pass me my dress then? I don’t feel like giving your staff a show” you hummed, pulling back to press a kiss to his chin.

“I think they already heard it” he smirked, reaching for your dress to hand it over to you, and picking up his helmet at the same time. Your eyes widened at the way your arousal was streaked down it. “Hmm, I’m never cleaning this again” he remarked, winking at you playfully.