#spirit x ing

[spinxeret]

+ @spirit-x-ing asked: ❝ Your suit is awesome! Can we talk design details? ❞

+ " It's a ONE OF A KIND . " Swinging into the unfolding CHAOS , Mary Jane quickly wrapped an arm around the woman, and send the BOTH of them launching into the air just as quickly . Everything was moving FAST , adrenaline now steadily pumping through her veins as she swung the two of them out of harms way. " But I think the RED really works for me. "

[womensgloat]

👶 Childhood Friends/♠ Secret Friends 0r 🍊 Stepsiblings/🍐 Older/Younger Sibling

@spirit-x-ing asked: Oooop I forgot to add Shelly Webster :p

oh i love the childhood friends concept! i have a lot of pre-canon lore built for shelly and i never get to use it, so i would absolutely love writing her against someone that's known her since childhood.

[hobertgadling]

“They say you almost died. You left it that late.”

Hob hated hospitals. He hated being fussed over by nurses and doctors and he hated being asked if he had any family or a spouse they should contact. He especially hated the anxiety he felt if they found out something was... off about him.

The immortal turned his head to the woman who seemed to have helped herself into his hospital room. He didn't recognize her and he hadn't heard her come in but so many people had come in and out of his room that he just shrugged and sighed.

"But I didn't die, did I? I suppose... technically, by medical standards, I did. My heart stopped. My brain stopped. But I'm not dead. Modern day miracle, innit?" he replied, a self-deprecating lilt to his voice.

Brain aneurysms were not something Robert had much experience with. He'd never had one. Until that morning. In the middle of his lecture. When he felt the worst pain he'd experience erupt in the back of his skull and then there was nothing.

The doctor told him it was likely caused by smoking. Which he had done since well... since the 16th century. But what the doctor couldn't explain was how Hob was still alive. Better yet, why he had no trace of an aneurysm in his brain anymore besides a lingering headache.

"You're not a nurse, are you?" he asked. She wasn't wearing scrubs. And no nurse would waltz into his room and start with that line. "Do you want something, then?"

@spirit-x-ing

[arkhampsych]

makes sense. It was their technology after all. There was likely some sort of tracker or brain behind the devices function that would observe if it had been tampered with. “ we can find someone else to take care of the collar. ” he chimed in while adjusting his seat. At Lorelai’s command, he started up the vehicle and pulled out from between the truck and sports car.

“ 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘸 ” was something Crane did well. He lived by a rule of attracting as little attention as possible. It was just as easy to pull strings from within obscurity than it was to be the face of a movement, if not easier.

Remaining inconspicuous was their current priority. Hiding or withdrawing from the public would likely garner further suspicion — and they needed as much of Waller’s trust as she was willing to lend. “ I’m going back to my place. you’re more than welcome to keep your belongings there, I promise not to invade your privacy — ” He shot Lorelai a sardonic smirk, “ I won’t go through your things. ”

The parking garage’s evenly spaced ceiling - mounted strip - lights added little more illumination than the daylight flooding in through the open face of the lot’s concrete skeleton. This made the sudden dip into synthetic lighting somewhat shocking as the car turned down a ramp that lead towards a lower level. Crane inhaled pensively as they approached the lot’s exit, suppressing the urge to let out a thoughtful hum — “ as for your car … ” he stared at Lorelai as they waited for the vehicle in front of them to hand the “ night guard ” a ticket. After a moment, one of his shoulders shrugged weakly and he turned his gaze back towards the exit, “ well. seeing as to how I’ve abandoned mine somewhere in the narrows, I suppose for the time being you can take my parking space. ”

Lorelai's head slowly turned to face him, awaiting an answer. She noticed how his eyes glazed over as he was thinking. It was as if he was trying to process everything that just happened and was now inspecting everything over. She can tell by his calm demeanor he was weeding out information, being selective of what he wanted to reveal. That was probably a default setting of his. Though the way the moment lingered was starting to make her reconsider. She slowly turned her head away. 

He doesn't have a plan, does he? 

The thought crossed her mind as her eyes narrowed in slight suspicion. He was probably winging it, they both were. The only saving grace was that Doctor was resourceful. An aspect of him that she always admired. She watched as a smidgen of a smirk appeared before he calmly sighed as he finally revealed something. She listened to him explain what he had overall. She nodded looking straight ahead as well. Pass the windshield and towards Janus Cosmetics as she thought over his words. She sighed shaking her head. Calling off her agents sounded risky, a stall tactic, though it depends on how desperate Waller wanted her win/win. 

Lorelai slanted her head away. ❝I can drain the collar before it's on me but... I'm sure they'd realize what I did on their end,❞ she pointed out the obvious first. ❝Messing with wiring, signals...❞ she exhaled a huff-like sigh, not finishing the sentence. ❝Other than draining and shorting out tech...I don't know much else about it,❞ she admitted closing her eyes, frustrated. Her thoughts were starting to race. Maybe they knew someone who could do it for them? Probably pay them. Her eyes slowly opened as they focused on the glove department in front of her. I need time to think. ❝Drive.❞ she ordered as she noticed him grab her keys and lean forward. ❝Find a place to lay low. If you need anything from someplace I can get it,❞ she reminded. Her gaze hit the side mirror before quickly glancing around.

Her hand blindly reached for her safety belt. She unbuckled the belt letting it slide back in place before pulling it out once more. ❝I need a place to stash my car and stuff,❞ she voiced. Her car stood out and she didn't need GCPD or Bruce Wayne to decide to get feisty and try to take it back from them at the moment. 

[magaprima]

@spirit-x-ing sent:

Like a soft wind, she nears. The green trees of Greendale, zoom by until she hits a dirt road that leads her to a cozy cabin. She passes through into the cabin. Only the sound of floorboards creaking can be heard. Her steps could easily pass off as the house settling. Though her white ballet flats appear and with the weight of her crossing over it's clear she's there.

The creaking grows louder with each soft step as she nears the sleeping resident. She's wearing a soft ivory 1940s wedding gown. ( It was the closest thing she can find that resembles the part. ) Lorelai nears pulling her veil down over her head.

❝ WoooOoOOooO! ❞ she howls. ❝ Lilith! Wake up! ❞ she hisses in a whisper. She shakes her gently. ❝ It's intro-retrospect time! ❞ she adds before letting go. She quickly crosses over and jumps in the air to hover over her in a ghostly manner. ❝ Guess whaaaat? ❞she sang. ❝ I'm your ghost of Christmas Past, ❞ Lorelai finished haughtily knowing perfectly well that Lilith was going to blow a fuse.

A cottage on the more rural edge of the town of Greendale had, among its other benefits, the comfort of a good night’s sleep Lilith had not expected to find within the mortal realm. So long used to resting her head in Pandamonium, it was an...undeniable relief to sleep without the fear of the Dark Lord dragging her from her bed to visit some punishment on her for some minor mistake. Or, in many cases, because he was bored. 

Being disturbed in this particularly restful slumber, therefore, was decidedly unwelcome. Especially after she had spent all of the Solstice watching over Sabrina, making every effort to sabotage her potentially problematic attempts to speak with her Mumsy. 

Jaw clenched tightly, Lilith sat up, an infernal glare piercing through the darkness at Lorelai. “Aside from many other issues I have with your...” Her eyes flickered over Lorelai’s appearance disdainfully, “over-dramatic display, I don’t celebrate Christmas. So you are both dangerously irritating as well as mistaken” 

[ignisregina]

@spirit-x-ing from here

There was a difference, something most people might ignore but was important to her as she tended to avoid the latter, albeit with a lot of effort. "Worry's more," Marianne tilted her head as she racked her brain for the word. "Anticipatory. Whatever you're worried about hasn't happened yet. Concerned is based on fact, on the situation at hand."

Speaking of hands, her eyes were drawn to the ghostly set before her, which just lent urgency to the situation. It's been years ago but she's been there, not necessarily losing control because she didn't have any in the first place. "I didn't mean to sound flippant. Are you alright? Is this the first time this happened?"

[vyrulent]

what are you doing?

meme || @spirit-x-ing

The vampiress laid back upon the couch, head propped up by the overly decorated throw pillow. The sound of the dying political man on the floor was like music to her, music for the moment that she ignored for the woman that entered this private space.

“Listening to a man die. He proved to be a useless ally to the cause,” Virginia admitted freely. “Needless to say, if you like that pretty head as much as I’m enjoying looking at it right now, you won’t speak of this to anyone, right?”

[latenightdaydreams]

Homeless reader pickpockets König and gets caught? Instead of taking her to the police he takes her home? She's a spitfire, and he likes it.

🌶

König x Thief (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2

Master Lister

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, unprotected, breasts f-ing

2.5k word count

💳

.

.

König walks late at night along the busy city streets to blow off steam. People watching is something he enjoys doing, curious how others live their lives so…simply. There is a heavy weight on his shoulders, the lives of other people in his hands to protect or to take. In a way, he envy’s these people to live without true knowledge of what the world's governments do behind closed doors.

A woman in a black baggy shirt and jeans catches his eyes, you. You move as if you’re trying to blend into the darkness, your eyes darting to everyone studying them the way he is. Who are you? Why are you acting so odd? 

As he walks on, his icy blue eyes move from you and continue to people watch. Your eyes fall on the tall man in what looks like a basic black shirt, but you have a keen eye for designer things. The watch on his left wrist hinting at the gold mine inside his wallet. When he gets close enough, you turn out of the storefront you were lingering in, passing König. 

The feeling of your smaller body bumping his snapped his eyes in your direction. You look up at him with a warm smile. “Pardon me.” Your voice and demeanor are extremely bubbly, different from the vibes you were previously giving to him. 

König looks down at you with no emotion and ignores your words. A few steps later, he stops, putting his hand in his pocket. Empty. He quickly spins around to see you trying to blend into the crowd. A smirk plays across König’s lips as he realizes he’s been robbed. He quickly turns, following you at a distance.

Thinking the man was none the wiser, there was a cocky arrogance in the way you moved. The wallet was safely secured in my satchel. You quickly turn to an alleyway that leads you back towards your tent. 

König stalks closely behind without you noticing. For being a thief, you lack spatial awareness. Someone could easily follow you, come up behind you and grab you. Such easy prey. He reaches his massive, calloused hand out, grabbing you by your arm, and spinning you to face him.

“Wallet. Now.” He towers over you by well over a foot, his eyes piercing into your own. One hand extended to accept the wallet back. 

“Let me go! I don’t have your wallet.” You struggle as if you’re truly innocent, hoping he will just think that he is mistaken and go away. What you don’t know is that you picked the wrong target. 

“I’ll demand nicely once more. My wallet. Now.”

Once you realize he isn’t buying your innocent act, you try to stomp his foot to run away. It worked countless times before. You lower the heel of your boot down as hard as you possibly can and prepare to run. The man didn’t even flinch, his eyes still gazing deeply into your own when you look up.

“Let me go!”

“Give me my stuff!” He shouts, his booming voice causing you to give up the hold on his wallet.

You dig into your satchel for his dark brown leather wallet. With an attitude, you slam into the palm of his hand. König feels a heat growing in his loin. This tiny little feisty thief isn’t scared of him? He looks at the defiant look on your face and takes in how attractive your features look this close up.

“You have your wallet, now let me go!” You try to pull your arm away from his hand but his grip is unpleasantly firm.

“You know I could have you arrested right? You just robbed a military Colonel.”

“I gave you your shit back!”

Even with the knowledge of his status, you’re still disrespectful. A deep laugh rumbles from König’s stomach as he looks down at you. “I like you. You’ve got spirit. How about I make you a deal?” König walks into you, forcing you against the brick wall behind you. “I won’t report you if you come home with me.”

A playful smirk pulls at your lips. “You want to fuck me?”

“Is that a problem for you?” König’s voice is low and sensual as his eyes drop to your pillowy lips. “Just one night. I’ll even pay you.”

“I’m not a whore.” You say defensively. 

“I never said you were; I’m just offering a gift. A gift for allowing me to have you… if you will.”

“How much?”

“More than you would have gotten from my wallet.” König’s tone is playful as he sees in your eyes that you’re actually considering doing this. 

“Fine. You’re not going to try and kill me, are you?” You ask half joking.

“I don’t hurt innocent delicate creatures such as yourself.” König moves his masked face to your neck, slowly breathing in your sweaty musk. “I’ll return you safely, and a few thousand dollars richer.”

Thousand piques your interest. You take a few seconds to think about it before looking around you. “Fine. I’ll entertain you for the night.”

“Perfect.” König smiles down at you. “Come with me.” His hand slides down from grabbing your arm to intertwining his fingers with yours. He turns away from the alleyway and begins to walk towards his home.

“What’s your name, Liebling?”

“Y/n. You?”

“I’m König.”

It takes about a twenty-minute walk to get to König’s home. You gaze around at his home, simply decorated but you can tell it’s all high-end luxury. This man really is wealthy. You feel König’s hand on your lower back as he guides you to the staircase, up to his bedroom.

“What are you wanting?” You ask him, unsure of how to go about this transaction. 

“Just a normal night. As if we are truly lovers.”

You stand and watch as he undresses. He takes his boots off, pulling down his snipper mask, exposing his face to you. His blonde hair is messy with an angular face scarred and aquiline nose. Taking in his rugged appearance, you admit to yourself that he is quite attractive. Your eyes follow his hands to the hem of his shirt, his body sculpted and powerful.

König drops his pants last, stepping out of them as they drop to his ankles. “Come here.” He holds his hand out for you, pulling you to him. His free hand reaches for the hem of your shirt, putting his hand underneath to feel your soft skin. Your muscles tense at his touch, his tenderness surprising for you.

As his eyes meet your, he pulls up your shirt. You lift your arms up as he slides your shirt off of your body, his hands quickly wrapping around your waist, caressing your silky-smooth skin. His hands gently glide up your back until he feels your bra, unhooking it and slowly guiding it off of your body. The way your breasts naturally fall when your bra comes away from your body is simply perfection.

König’s leave a trail down your neck to your breasts, holding each one in his hands as he drops to his knees in front of you. His mouth hungrily latches to your nipple, sucking a licking, taking his time on each one. “You have such lovely nipples.” He groans into your skin. 

Slowly, his hands drop down from your breasts, caressing your stomach before undoing your jeans. He pulls them down to your knees, moving one of his hands between your legs. There is a wet patch on your panties already forming. 

“Mien Gott, you’re so wet. I have to taste you.” In almost a rush he pulls down your underwear and drops lower on your body. He shoves his face between your supple thighs, flicking his tongue out against any part of your pussy he could reach. Once he got a small taste of your sweet creamy cunt, he needed more. 

König pulls back, grabbing at your shoes and tossing them to the side before pulling your jeans off completely. He grabs one of your legs and pulls it over his shoulder. You fall off balance, reaching out for him to stabilize yourself. His hands reach behind you and grasps your ass, squeezing as his tongue flicks over your cunt again. 

Tiny moans flow from your lips as your head drops back. Your hands hold his head to your pussy as your feel his tongue move in circles and twist around your clit. You allow yourself to truly relax and enjoy the pleasure you’re receiving. 

“I want to feel you, bury myself deep inside of this pussy.” He groans as he pulls back to gaze up at you. His eyes portray how in lust he is with you right now. It’s been nearly six years’ since he’s touched a woman and here you are; an angel from heaven simply fell into his lap.

König stands with your leg still over his shoulder, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, his hands holding you firmly by your rear. A surprised gasping giggle leaves your lips as he walks you to the bed. He places you down gently onto the bed, pulling down his boxers once his hands are free.

With your body pulled towards the edge of the bed, he grabs your thighs and pulls your legs back. He moves his hips to line his cock up with your vagina. His cock next to your cunt make you look so small. The rush of excitement that flows through him is unmatched by anything he’s felt in a long time.

Slowly, he pushes forward. His eyes focused on your face, watching the way your eyes widen slightly as the head of his cock parks your folds and slips into your tiny little cunt. A soft moan escapes you as your hands grab your legs, assisting in pulling them back. 

König’s eyes watch your stomach and breasts before going back up to your eyes, watching as the pleasure floods your body. Your pupils expand, covering the color of your irises almost completely. Such a beautiful sight. 

His hips roll slowly into you at first, letting you get adjusted to the size of his cock. He’s aware that he’s above average and doesn’t want to push you too far. Dropping his gaze, he watches the way his cock stretches your pussy lips apart, your walls hugging his cock tightly.

“König, yes.” You moan as your fingers dig into your legs, struggling to keep it together as he fucks you.

“Such a pretty voice.” He says breathlessly as he begins to pick up his pace, the small slapping sound of skin on skin being added to the beautiful melody of your moans. The feeling of you clenching around him drives him mad. “If you keep that up, I won’t last long.” König warns.

“Please don’t cum yet, your cocks so fucking good.” 

König looks down at you with a low groan, his eyebrows pinch together, and he shakes his head. “Your cunt’s too tight, so fucking wet.” His hips move more rapidly as one hand moves to cup your breast, pinching your nipping between his fingers as he squeezes. 

The fat on your thighs ripple as he slams into you. Your stomach and breasts look soft and inviting. You can feel your own wetness drip down from your pussy to your ass, wetting the bed sheets beneath you. König closes his eyes and drops his head back; a strong buildup of ecstasy takes over and he can’t ignore it. 

He pulls out, to your disappointment, and pulls your legs more so that you're almost off of the bed. Grabbing your breasts, he rests his wet cock between them and begins to thrust forward. You spit on your breasts to add lubrication for him. His hands squeeze your breasts almost painfully tightly together. 

A loud growl leaves his throat as he looks down at your breasts, completely swallowing his cock. One of your hands drops to your pussy to rub your clit in quick small circles. “Fuck!” König groans as he picks up his pace.

“Open your mouth.”

He steps back, jerking his cock quickly, focusing on the tip of his cock. A few small moans leave his lips before a spurt of his warm cum shoots out and lands in your mouth, dripping down your bottom lip. A few more land across your breasts and on your face. 

You lean forward and suck the tip of his cock, swallowing the rest of his cum. König’s muscles twitch as your mouth wraps around his head, your tongue circling it and making it clean.  “God, y/n. You’re driving me crazy. Get on the bed, bent over.” 

An excited look appears in your eyes as you realize he isn’t done with you yet. You stand, cum still on you, and bend over his bed. König walks up behind you, gazing at the heart shape your ass makes when you bend over like this. His large hand caresses the plumpness before he lines himself up with you again. 

“I want to feel you cum on my cock.” König says before shoving his cock back inside of you.

The next morning you are waken up by the sun peaking through the curtains. You feel König’s muscular arms holding you close to him still, his head resting on your own as he breathes deeply. From where you lay, you can see his expensive watch resting on his dresser, you slowly start to take in everything in the room and think about how much money you could get from pawning all of it. But then your eyes land on König peacefully asleep and feel guilty for wanting to take form him. He’s been surprisingly…kind.

Your eyes go back to his watch, then back to him. With a deep sigh, you push his arms away from your body gently and sneak out of bed. Still naked you wake to his dresser and grab the watch to look at it more closely. 

König feels you move so he opens one eye slightly to watch what you’re doing. He sees you holding the watch, inspecting it. His heart sinks slightly at the fact that he’s trusting you in his home and yet you are doing this. Instead of stopping you, he just pretends to sleep still, seeing what you would do.

He can feel the weight of your small body joining him back in bed. You move slowly so as to not wake König up, but his arms grab you, pulling you back to him. “I can buy you your own Hermès, if that’s what you’d like.” 

You can feel your stomach drop, he saw you looking at his watch. “I wasn’t going to take it.” A lie, and you know he knows it’s one.

“I’m just letting you know; I can take care of you. You don’t have to steal anymore.” His sleepy voice is low and raspy. He reaches out and caresses the side of your face as you gaze at him with a guilty look on your face.

“We can go shopping before I drop you off.” König insists as he stretches, sitting up.

A small smile spreads across your lips as you realize you’ve landed in the lap of luxury. König is happy to share his wealth with you and you’re happy to accept it.

Part 2

[spinxeret]

+ @spirit-x-ing liked for a starter !

+ " Honestly, I love how everyone seems to think that it was PETER'S fault this took so long to happen . " Mary Jane said, shaking her head just a little bit. As much as everyone seemed to think the HOLDUP had been purely a result of her fiancé, in truth, she'd been the one to say ' NO ' twice . How she'd managed to keep him REIGNED in enough for a third go around was still a MYSTERY , even to her . None of it really MATTERED now, given the engagement ring squarely on her finger . " I swear people's HEADS just explode when they find out it was all on ME . "

[iheartmapi]

Norwegian Holiday

Ingrid Engen x Reader

Summary: For the first time, you and your girlfriend go on holiday to her country.

Fluff.

TW: none expect probably kinda shitty depiction of Norwegian culture (I’ve never been there don’t @ me)

Word count: 968

“The charm’s hidden in the small towns, kjæreste”

The brunette beside you remarked as your train slowly approached it’s destination.

“Well, I’m gonna have to trust you on this one, Ing…”

As the vehicle came to a stop the two of you raised from your seats and gathered your bags, there wasn’t a lot of commotion, after all why should there be when you picked out a tiny town to visit…but well you were enthusiastic about this holiday anyways. Ingrid lead you, though she haven’t been here before she could actually read the signs you passed by.

You fished out your phone from your bag, “Uh babe we rented the hotel on your phone right?” She turned to look at you, as the two of you managed to navigate into one of the towns streets, “I think so, let me check, can you get my phone for me?” You listened and then started the tumultuous act of searching for Ingrid’s phone in your guy’s travel bag, finally you handed the mobile to her.

As Ingrid searched for the reservation, or rather the hotels name so that google maps could help you out, you stood by her, observing the buildings that littered the street, and the might mountains that surrounded the town…this place was almost like a very cozy fairytale “Aha!” Ingrid beamed, were supposed to gooooo…” she turned and turned before pointing in the correct way “We’re supposed to go there” the brunette took hold of your arm and lead the way “So hasty..” you chuckled, “We’ve got no time to lose!” Ingrid beamed.

Thankfully, you didn’t get lost and got to register at the hotel, your rooms were nice, the mattress was the perfect balance between hard and soft, and the decor? Well there wasn’t really much to say about it, it was regular, kind of genderless and beige really.

Of course the moment everything was checked off the two of you got dressed and left the hotel to go exploring, this time leaving google maps behind to just see the town for yourself.

The first thing you and Ingrid thought was necessary to see, was the town’s square.

From the very middle; there was a nicely carved stone fountain, really just plain space, some benches and then the building that surrounded it…shops, cafes, restaurants the likes. “Stand there, I wanna take your picture, pretty girl” Ingrid smiled, you cheerfully pranced around to pose in front of the fountain for Ingrid’s phone’s lenses, after a couple clicks the two of you continued on strolling around.

“Feeling the Norwegian spirit already?” Ing playfully nudged you, you smirked “Definetily, oh I need to get me some kitschy Viking souvenir!” At that comment she scoffed “So stereotypical of you” you just winked at your girlfriend and said “Whatever you say, Viking lady” to which she just nudged you again and you laughed.

Trying Norwegian food was a must have on your list, so not too soon after you made your way to a restaurant, your eyes skimmed across the menu, trying to pronounce the foreign to you words as Ingrid had a laughing fit at your butchered words.

Then with some help from Ingrid you chose a dish called “Kjøttkaker med brunsaus”, a seemingly simple recipe. The waiter soon brought your orders to the table and left you to live this delicious moment.

You stick your fork into the meat on the plate and took a dramatic breath “Here goes nothing…” you munched on the meat cakes, wanting to savour the taste..after a moment of thoughtfulness you decided on “This is quite good actually”

Ingrid’s mouth curved upwards “I’m happy you like it” before continuing on eating her own meal, “You’ll have to make this for me when we get back home, Ingy!” You remarked joyfully, “Alright alright” she laughed at your liveliness “Calm your horses and finish eating first”

Towns square, restaurant and now a souvenir shop because you begged Ingrid to see it when you spotted it…you scanned the Viking-y souvenirs, from hats to cups, there were many things to choose from…Ingrid herself paced around the building, observing the assortment of the shop before returning to you, “So?” She asked “You getting anything?” You turned to Ingrid with a comical seriousness “I’m torn between the Viking hat and the Viking cup” Ingrid raised an eyebrow “I’m assuming you’re expectantly waiting for me to say you can get both?” You nodded “There’s no limit for what you want babe, if you want it buy it” you reached for the “viking” hat and put it on your head “I was afraid the amount of kitsch I wanted would annoy you” Ingrid just rolled her eyes and patted your now covered head “It’s you, I couldn’t get mad even if I wanted to.”

So you bought the things you wanted, put them in your bag for walking around and went on with your exploration of the small town. The rest was really just you two appreciating the views and architecture, or entering places you thought looked interesting..

The day flowed smoothly and soon you found yourself sitting on a bench with a view of the lake by the town, waffles in your and Ingrid’s hands.

“This is like…so pretty it’s crazy” you said as you munched on your waffle

“Chew before you speak babe…” Ingrid sighed at your childishness (but with a smile on her face)

“fine fine!” You finished the piece and swallowed “Now as I said, the views are crazy here”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying Norway” your girlfriend smiled even wider, her eyes crinkling “You know I care about your happiness the most”

“Oh don’t you make me blush…” you added “You’re already outshining this landscape” you winked before getting back to devouring your waffle

“You’re such a dummy…”

[kaysithekoolest]

Remy LeBeau x Autistic Reader

I don't think any disability or neurodivergence would deter his charismatic spirit.

Remy doesn't mind your quirks and special interests.

He'll listen to you go on for hours about your new favorite hyperfixation. He will most definitely sit through every hour long slide show on your new favorite piece of media, only butting in to ask questions.

He definitely felt bad the first time he scared you with his mutation. When he first met you, he tried to impress you with a fiery hot pink explosion. He didn't know the noise would frighten you.

Nowadays, Remy always gives you a heads up on when he's gonna explode something.

He is always the king of naming things. Bring him a stuffed animal or figurine without one and within seconds he will have found the perfect title.

This also goes for when he forgets the names of certain behaviors you have.

"Mon chére, why are you... What are ya conundrum-ing about?"

In English, he was trying to figure out why you were stimming.

On another note, he had a terrible memory (probably due to all those lobotomies...)

And you tell him to remember something for you and you will never hear it again. He won't even remember if it was written on his face.

He will have to set a timer/reminder on something to remind himself what you had told him to remind you. It's a whole thing

Despite his forgetful memory, he remembers all your favorite things, like your favorite color, show, animal, ect

And Remy still loves to get you things. Occasionally "Getting" something from somewhere for you to play or fidget with. If it's something really important to either you or him, he'll buy it

"It reminded Gambit of his favourite Belle mutante..." Remy purred against your ear as his slipped a mysterious trinket into your open hands. When you looked down, peeking at it. You saw it was a soft fuzzy mochi toy of your favourite animal.

Remy also struggles to read the room, often cracking a joke at an inappropriate time. So that he can't help much with either.

But he can read you well. Even if you aren't speaking. He's able to tell if you're uncomfortable or confused.

Over all, Remy tries his damn hardest to make you feel welcomed and happy at the X-Mansion and wherever you go with him. He doesn't mind your quirks or behaviors. He's just happy you're you and with him. 💜 🃏🖤

@mushroom-stand

[reiniesainyo]

IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 01

01 | SPARKS FLY previous | next | masterfile

SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)

A/N. this chapter is more like world building (it's where i explain what the fuck i'm doing with the YN okay)

The "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" series at Disney+ has added an unexpected pick to its growing cast.

The new live-action series is based on the hugely successful novels from author Rick Riordan of the same title. We will be seeing YN LN join the series as Rina Velasco, one of the supporting characters of the show.

LN's Rina Velasco is referred to as "the offspring of The Muses, goddesses of the sciences and the arts." Unlike most other demigods, she is born out of the artistic and scientific output of the muses. When the moral ingenuity of humans meets the divine musings of The Muses. Her character is described as a unique allrounder who becomes a mentor figure to our main cast as they embark on their journey.

This will be LN's first on-screen role of her career. LN's experience mostly lies in Broadway, she is known for playing Kim in the Miss Saigon revival on Broadway. LN was nominated for a Tony in 2022 for the same role. She is repped by Salonga/Chien Entertainment and B817 Agency.

Riordan posted on the Meta app, Threads, about this update to the casting saying: "YN was one of the actors we didn't expect to see a tape of but when we saw it, we couldn't help but fall in love with her. She embodies the spirit of Rina so well and is such a kind spirit, we can't wait for you to fall in love with her too! Welcome to the cast, YN!"

The live-action show is based on Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson book series. It tells the fantastical tale of the titular 12-year-old modern demigod (Scobell), who's just coming to terms with his newfound supernatural powers when the sky god Zeus accuses him of stealing his master lightning bolt. With help from his friends Grover (Simhadri) and Annabeth (Jeffries), Percy must embark on an adventure of a lifetime to find it and restore order to Olympus.

Production on the show is now underway in Vancouver. Riordan and Jon Steinberg are writing the pilot with James Bobin directing. Steinberg and his producing partner Dan Shotz are overseeing the series and serve as executive producers alongside Bobin, Rick Riordan, Rebecca Riordan, Bert Salke, Monica Owusu-Breen, Jim Rowe, Anders Engström, Jet Wilkinson, and Gotham Group's Ellen Goldsmith-Vein, Jeremy Bell, and D.J. Goldberg. 20th Television is the studio. Salke was formerly the president of Touchstone Television and originally put the show into development.

liked by percyseries, iamcharliebushnell, and 37,789 others thelnarchive the child of the muses @percyseries

percyseries OUR MUSE!

user1 this is literally perfect casting who cried i did ↳ user2 she's so rina coded! thank the gods for the casting directors

iamcharliebushnell only muse in my life ↳ thlnarchive only traveler in my life ↳ user3 the way filming hasn't started and they're already like this ↳ user4 their chemistry is chemistry-ing

user5 roman empire. she is my roman empire.

dior.n.goodjohn i LOVE LOVE LOVE women ↳ thelnarchive HELP i love you

user6 this is so fcking random but i NEED her in a taylor swift music video

A/N i truly hope you guys can forgive the horrible editing in the pictures. the article portion is based on (and has some parts that are directly pulled from) this article from variety ! here's some succint information about rina velasco, the PJO character YN LN plays (and is my childhood OC!) - rina velasco, filipino, 18 years old (year younger than luke) - she's an offspring of the muses, not directly a child or daughter, though she may be referred as such - by her being an offspring of the muses, i mean that she was born in the same way athena's children are born. - but in rina's case she's more like a weird conglomeration of each muse. her birth is a rare event, but her mothers are honored as minor goddesses so she stayed in the apollo cabin (connection to music) - rina operates as a guidance figure for the main trio, especially annabeth - she's also luke's love interest, there's a lot of tragicness and doomed romance stuff with those two - and for the sake of everyone, we pretend like the weird i love you from the books didn't happen !

[elodee]

HERMIT A DAY MAY - DAY 23

TangoTek x Yu-Gi-Oh

For Tango I picked Yu-Gi-Oh!!

Most people know Yu-Gi-Oh! as a cartoon and card game, but in the original story the pharoah spirit who possesses Yugi is known as the King of Games, as in, all games. So who better to represent Yu-Gi-Oh! than the creator and dungeon master of Decked Out, the ultimate game within a game?

To learn more about Yu-Gi-Oh! and see my style references, continue below the cut.

@hermitadaymay

(The King of Games would definitely donate to Gamers Outreach)

Yu-Gi-Oh! is a manga and anime series about a boy named Yugi Mutou who solves a cursed puzzle from ancient Egypt and is then possessed by the spirit of a ruthless Pharoah who has lost all his memories.

"Ruthless?" I can hear fans of the anime saying. "The Pharoah is a good guy!"

Incorrect! He only becomes a good guy later. Early on he is literally Ancient Egyptian Jigsaw.

In the manga, the Pharoah takes over Yugi's body whenever Yugi is in danger, whether he wants it or not, and manipulates people into agreeing to rigged, high stakes Shadow Games. Once they inevitably lose, he traps them in a Penalty Game (a poetic justice torture scenario) for the rest of their lives or possibly all of eternity depending on the situation. It's really messed up! Highlights of early Yu-Gi-Oh Penalty Games include:

Lighting a guy on fire

Blinding a guy

Telltale Heart-ing a guy

Driving a guy so crazy his rips out his own eye

Blowing a guy up

Envenomating a guy with his own pet scorpion

Electrocuting people

Forcing a guy to endure an illusion of eternal zombie attacks

Trapping people in hell forever

...and more!

The show is way more family friendly and follows a significantly mellowed-out Pharoah and his friends as they battle bad guys with card games that summon monsters to fight on their behalf. It's pretty fun an campy!

However, Yu-Gi-Oh! the show is fairly well known so I also wanted to take this opportunity to introduce everyone to season 0 manga Pharoah, who is literally a serial killing ghost with a gambling problem that's possessing a 16 year old.

If you had an Egyptology phase as a kid, give Yu-Gi-Oh! a watch. If you watched Yu-Gi-Oh! as a kid, go read the early manga.

Style references:

There he is, the King of Games. The heart of the cards guides him but he also full on just, like, cheats too.

Malik, on the left, and Bakura, on the right. These two are villains from the show who are also teenagers possessed by (evil) Egyptian spirits that were trapped in cursed metal knick-knacks. Everyone in this show has Hair with a capital H.

The Yu-Gi-Oh! title design.

[gravehags]

smitten by the blackest force

Pairing: Mary Goore x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: witch reader, cemetery sex, deals with the devil, rough sex, devil's marks, mary goore being some kind of supernatural being...?

Words: 2,861

Summary: If this is your Mephistopheles well...just call you Doctor Faustus.

a/n: mary please return my calls i desperately need to get fucked in a cemetery. mary are you there? mary?

~~~

You like this cemetery.

It’s old. Quiet. Set back in the oak trees off the dirt road with ivy entwined in the wrought-iron fencing. You liked to come here often - even on the occasions where you weren’t conducting rituals - sometimes packing a sandwich and an Arizona tea and just sitting on the grass - keeping the spirits whose names have long worn off the headstones company. You’ve never seen anyone else visit but somehow the grass is always trimmed back, never overgrown. Even the local teenagers don’t fuck with this place, your little hideout, and for that you’re extremely grateful. There are some rumors among the townspeople about devil worshippers in the area but considering the questionable nature of your own practice, you aren’t too worried about them (if they even exist at all.) 

Right now you’ve got a blanket spread out to sit on, a knitted shawl around your shoulders, and your various bottles and crystals surrounding you. You hauled out a few camping lanterns from your car to keep the spot well-lit as the sun dips down below the forested horizon. Sighing you lay back against the blanket beneath you, breathing in the evening air and the quiet.

Snap.

The sound has you shooting up, clutching your shawl and eyes darting. The only thing you can hear is the sound of nature around you - crickets and cicadas. You open your mouth with the intention of asking if anyone is there before you promptly close it, thinking better of it. You’ve been out here at night before - countless times - and never encountered anything sinister but you’re not stupid and inviting anything in. Besides, you think as your shoulders sag, it was probably an animal. You scoot back on your blanket until your back is flush with the tall mossy headstone behind you, feeling more secure with its protection. A few minutes pass and you yawn, watching the blink of fireflies in the distance. You slump against the stone, and you feel so cozy and content as your eyelids slide close you only vaguely register the low chuckle coming from somewhere behind you. You’re in the beginning stages of drifting off when a teasing whistle winds its way through the gravestones. You jolt upwards, head whipping around but neither seeing nor hearing anything. That is, until a soft tsk-ing sound comes from behind you and you watch as thick, beat-up boot soles stroll into your line of vision. You crawl away from the person, heart thundering in your chest and your anxiety thrumming through your veins reminding you that you’re probably going to die. When the figure stops at a nearby tall headstone and leans back against it, crossing their legs at the ankles, they speak.

“Kind of a shitty witch who falls asleep in a fucking cemetery,” they smirk, crossing their arms. Thanks to a nearby lantern you’re able to get a better look at them - skinny, but not tall, wearing torn up jeans and a ratty band shirt with the sleeves cut off. Most of their face is hidden by the messy black lock of hair that hangs down over their forehead but you swear they’re wearing some kind of face paint and was that…blood?

“Who the fuck are you?” you snap, eyes darting around for anything you can use as a weapon.

“Oh she’s a mean little thing,” they crow, pushing off the headstone and stepping towards you. The panic is really starting to set in and you wonder if you’d be able to make it to one of the lanterns and hit them in th–

“Relax, sweetheart,” they say, crouching into a squat a few feet from you, “if I wanted you dead you’d be dead one of the other dozen times I’ve seen you alone out here.”

Your blood runs cold as you remind yourself there are things worse than death.

“You’ve been watching me? W-where there’s never anyone around–”

“Forest is big,” they say casually, dropping to their knees and sitting back on their haunches. “Lots of spots between the trees. And I’m real quiet.”

All of this is…troubling information to say the least but their first words stand out to you.

“How did you know I’m a witch?”

They nod, large pale hands resting on their thighs.

“We’ve been watching you for a while. Kind of a…local weirdo in this area, aren’t you? Small town shit seems a little beneath someone like you.”

You snort.

“I like the quiet. And most people mind their fucking business out here. Sorry, did you say ‘we’ve’ been watching?”

“Oh yeah, y’know, the uh,” they bring their hands up to their head and make horns with their fingers, “devil worshippers.”

Huh.

Intriguing.

You scoot a little closer to them and notice the way their full lips twitch in a minute smile.

“The old folk of the town talk about you guys but I never gave it any credence. Thought it was just leftover Satanic panic horseshit from the eighties.”

“Mmm well,” they begin, “we’re not your typical uh…Satan worshippers. It’s kind of more of a big deal than that. Actually, a lot of a big deal.”

“Oh yeah?” There's something magnetic about this slender creature whose green eyes glint in the lantern light. While you’re not necessarily soothed by their presence you cannot deny that you are drawn in.

“Yeah,” they confirm, “I’ll tell you more about it later but uh, let’s talk about you, huh?”

“What about me?” you ask, some of your caution returning.

“Well we’ve seen what you do. Got eyes on you. And we’d like to offer you a place at the Ministry. Our practices aren’t so different, are they?”

No, you think to yourself, no they’re not. You’re no stranger to demon work and after all what is Lucifer but the demon to end all demons? And all your dealings with them have always led to successful rituals and outcomes.

“So what do I get out of it? And why didn’t you just come to my house or my work to ask me all this?”

The slightly sinister chuckle that comes out of them stirs something within you.

“Protection. Power. The ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want to. A home.”

That last one hits you hard but you stay silent.

“Are you interested?”

A moment passes.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I want to live deliciously or whatever?”

They tilt their head back and laugh, slapping their thighs with their palms.

“Haven’t told you how we seal the deal yet, sweetheart.”

“Oh? And that would be…?”

“A surprise. Which you’ll find out about when you answer my question. Are you in?”

You were supposed to be charging your crystals in the moonlight and collecting cemetery dirt tonight, not making a fucking deal with the Devil. But, you think as you look at the figure eyeing you intently, everything happens for a reason.

“Yes. Yes I’m in.”

They give you a wide, sharp grin.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, gorgeous. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

Before you can ask what they mean, they’re crawling towards you like some kind of spindly cryptid. You’d be lying if it didn’t arouse you even as you back up against a headstone with nowhere else to go.

“C’mon sweetheart,” they purr, wrapping their fingers around your ankle. “Time to give the Devil his due.”

You yelp as they yank your body towards them, their hand sliding along the curve of your calf and up to your knee. 

“And you’re the Devil are you?” you breathe, watching them slither up your body and settle between your legs.

“Me? Nah. I’m just the poster guy who gets to reap all the rewards.”

“And what do I call you?”

They lean in to inhale deep at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you have to bite back a moan.

“Wanna know what name you’ll be screaming out tonight, huh?”

“Think pretty highly of yourself,” you murmur, bringing a hand up to drag your fingernails along their back. When they growl and grind their denim-covered cock against you, you grin.

“You’re awfully mouthy, aren’t you?”

“Thought you wanted to hear my voice?”

They’ve got their hands on the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing the skin of your belly, when they look at you with a wicked smile.

“Take this off before I rip it off,” they growl, raising the fabric insistently. You gleefully acquiesce, watching their eyes boggle as your bare breasts sway in front of them. Leaning back on your elbows you blink innocently up at them, watching their tongue dart out to smear the paint near their lips.

“Fucking finally,” they grouse before falling upon you and taking your pebbled nipple in their mouth. 

“You–ah–never answered my question.”

They slide off your breast and grin up at you.

“Call me Mary.”

There’s no softness in their attentions, all hard sucking and teeth nipping but fuck if it isn’t exactly what you need. It’s been a while - much longer than you’d like to admit - ever since you moved to this podunk little town. The selection wasn’t exactly uh, bountiful. You’ve got your head tilted back as they suck pretty dark bruises into your flesh but when they give your unattended nipple a sharp pinch your eyes fly to theirs.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Want you to remember exactly who fucked you this good.”

You laugh.

“Haven’t done any fucking yet, have you? I’m withholding my judgment.”

Instantly, they pull away and sit back on their haunches.

“You little bitch,” they crow with a crooked grin, “Oh you’re gonna be fun to have around.”

You’ve propped yourself up once more, watching Mary as they rub the bulge in their jeans.

“Drooling a little, huh baby?”

Maybe. But you’ll be damned if they know it.

“Yeah, out of boredom. Are you gonna sit there rubbing one out all night?”

They squeeze their cock, grinning down at you.

“Maybe I should fill your mouth instead of your cunt? Stuff you so full of me you’ll really be drooling. I’ll shut you up then, huh?”

You’re not totally opposed to the idea but the ache between your thighs needs attention before any other extracurricular activities occur.

“I’ll be good–” you say, reaching down to wiggle your joggers and underwear off your hips. When the heat of you is exposed to their gaze, you slide your fingers between your folds to gather the slick that has accumulated. Satisfied, you raise your hand to your mouth and slowly slide the digits between your lips onto your tongue, “--I promise.”

Mary’s panting now, the heavy rise and fall of their chest hypnotic as they drink you in. They’ve still got their hand to their bulge, lazily squeezing their cock through the fabric. Suddenly their fingers are viciously unbuttoning and unzipping their pants and you both sigh as they take their cock out. It’s a pretty thing, all red and swollen and dripping, and you know it’s going to look even prettier inside you. They stroke it, smearing the pre down the shaft with their lips curled into a grin.

“That’s all it takes to make you pipe down? A nice dick?”

“Who said anything about it being nice?” you say, but your breathy tone gives away your true feelings. They look altogether too pleased with themselves as they scoot forward and drag the tip through your wet folds. When they nudge your clit with the head your hips buck up and you whine.

“Now that’s more like it,” they smirk, pressing against your entrance. “Beg for it,” they snarl, pushing in the tip.

“Fuck Mary, please. I need it, need your fucking cock to fill me up, please, please, please.”

They laugh, the sound jarring in the near darkness.

“Damn, could’ve stopped at the first ‘please’ but you sounded so pretty doing it, think I’ll give you an extra good ride tonight.”

You’re about to say something caustic but before the words can even leave your mouth, they slam their cock into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. True to their word, they set a brutal pace, gripping your thighs and eyes flicking between your bouncing breasts and where they disappear inside of you.

“B-been awhile, huh?” they pant, hips snapping into yours. “Almost like you’ve been w-waiting for me. Saving it up.”

You don’t have it in you to be snarky anymore, too stuffed dumb. So you nod frantically.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, “all for you Mare, fuck right there.”

“Shoulda done this weeks ago,” they growl, “Instead of jerking off in the–augh–fucking woods. Never–fuck–never thought you’d be so easy.”

You’re not sure if they mean your deal with the Devil or the fucking but honestly you can’t bring yourself to care about anything right now that isn’t their cock pounding into you at a furious rate. They’re relentless, wrenching noises out of you you didn’t even know you could make. When they drag their hand to where you’re joined and dip a thumb in to rub at your clit your body arches off the grass.

“Fuck, Mary!”

“Know you’re close,” they grunt, “can f-feel you. Come on baby, let go. Give yourself to me. Give yourself to Him.”

The entire situation - the damp slide of the grass under your fingertips, the thick night air, the deal you just made, the cock currently hammering inside you - hits you all at once and your hips spasm.

“Don’t stop, Mare, please holy fuck yes, right there.”

Your hands fly to your breasts, cupping the weight of them and viciously pinching at the taut buds, making your lover groan and their hips stutter against you.

“C’mon yeah, play with those pretty fuckin’ tits, sweetheart. Oh fuck.”

You’re clenching around them now as they frantically rub at your clit and piston in and out of you, your moans increasing in volume and pitch. You feel as if you’re levitating, mouth hung open in a silent scream as you come undone, chanting their name.

“That’s it baby,” they snarl, gritting their teeth, “Cum for me, cum all over this cock–ah!”

You’re still riding your own high when you feel their cock twitch inside of you, flooding you with their seed. Their hoarse moans nearly send you into your second orgasm and your eyes slide shut, enjoying the feeling of them emptying inside you when–

They’re gone.

You heave a gasp as if taking a breath after being held underwater, hands flying to the ground beneath you. Mary’s gone–just fucking…gone. The only remnant of them currently dripping out of your used cunt onto the grass. You’re trembling while simultaneously being flooded with warmth as if you’ve been overcome by an awful fever. You ease yourself onto your side and curl into a fetal position, watching a ladybug crawl over the stone next to you. You’re not sure how long you lie there, shivering in the dark, but when your mind finally comes to you see the rosy planes of dawn stretching out through the trees. With great effort you push yourself off the ground - using the headstone for stabilization - your knees nearly giving way when you finally manage to stand. Sluggishly, you pull your underwear and pants up and spot your t-shirt a couple feet away crumpled in a pile. All your little vials and crystals stand as silent witnesses to the depravity that occurred last night and you hastily snatch them up and pile them into your tote bag. Your mind is a haze - too much of a haze to gather the blanket and lanterns - so you stumble out of the gate and head towards your car.

You don’t remember driving home but when you push the door open to the old house you rent, you feel…filthy. You’re not sure if it’s from your encounter with Mary or something else but you know one thing - you desperately need a shower. Your bags get dropped in the living room and you mechanically strip as you head to your bathroom. The shower is just what you needed - the firm stream of scalding hot water on your hair and body rejuvenating. When you step out into your steamy bathroom, you let out a deep sigh. The further you got from the events of last night the more they felt like some kind of wild dream, and you would be content to convince yourself of this were it not for the purple bruises peppered across your breasts that you spotted in the shower. You drop your towel and pad out into your bedroom to look for something clean and comfy to wear when you walk past your full-length mirror and stop dead in your tracks. There’s something on you - you think maybe it’s a tick or mud - so you turn the bedroom light on. High on your thigh, right in the center is a perfectly round mark, the size of a pencil eraser.

You don’t have any birthmarks.

Your stomach floods with panic and you fall to your knees on the rug, still naked and damp.

There’s a knock at your door.

[gyuswhore]

Pure Math 171

choi seungcheol x reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, humour

warnings: math. (1) dirty joke. thats it i think (lmk if there's more)

synopsis: Walking into the first class of the semester shouldn't have been as eventful as it was (not that you can complain for long)

masterlist

(A/N): I haven't posted a fic in a while so i hope i redeem myself with this one hehe. a million thank yous to @toruro for beta-ing for me (even at the dentists lol) you can thank her for this too shes the reason i finished so quickly kjvkdfjg

It takes a lot to surprise you. 

It’s not that you enjoy it, but your friends simply make it easy to read them. It took Soonyoung seven human years to learn the art of surprise birthday parties. You know, the ones where you aren’t supposed to know he’s throwing a party just for you. Or Minghao, before he learned the art of deceit, and held his disdain like a badge on his face. 

You seem to have honed the skill of psychics better than most, confident in your ability as a higher-risk party trick. 

Skipping into the new semester at uni, you enter your lecture hall at the reasonable hour of 8 in the morning, expecting nothing but the usual. No surprises were to come your way today, just another first day back, fueling for the coming months.

You push the doors of your lecture hall open, ready to greet your professor for Pure Mathematics 171, pushing your spirits high to commence your per semester buttering. What you find though, is the front desk crowded with students wanting to do the exact same, all for the professor that would be teaching the most dreaded unit of the course. Of course. 

You spot Soonyoung among the crowd as he spots you at the door as well. You note how gleeful he looks at this hour. This can’t be good. Hao too presses his mouth together in an attempt to conceal his budding smile, hand to mouth when he miserably fails.

What on Earth was so funny? 

Attempting to crane your neck, over and under, to catch a glimpse of the ever popular professor, you find yourself blocked by the sea of math nerds and ass-kissers just like yourself. Curiosity was becoming a little too much for you to bear, not that your friends sniggering and whispering while looking directly at you was helping at all. You were just about to march up to the two and demand to be put on their shoulders to see what the fuss was about. Until—

“Alright! It’s almost 8, let’s save the chatter for after class, how about?” you hear a voice boom in the centre of the anthill. 

You knew that voice.

You watch in slow motion as the hoard of bodies disperse, not missing the pointed glances of both your friends directed at the teacher’s table. 

And then you see it. Standing there, looking down at his folder sheets, dry-erase marker in hand. 

Choi Seungcheol.

Choi Seungcheol was your professor.

Your boyfriend was your professor.

How did this happen? Did he know about this? Was he keeping it from you? Were you blind when you read the clear ‘Dr. Kim’ next to your unit code? 

Seungcheol doesn’t notice you standing there slack mouthed and frozen in his classroom. Until he does. 

Instead of mimicking your shocked expression, you watch as his mouth goes to pull what you recognise as a smirk. 

Oh, he thinks this is hilarious. 

His eyebrows are raised as he questions you, “Will you be taking a seat, miss?” 

It’s then that you realise you're in the middle of a lecture hall with about a hundred eyes watching you as you gape at your collective professor. Could they be mistaking your imminent horror as you checking him out? 

If this was another situation maybe you would have, but this was starting to sound like a sick joke. 

But alas, you could not confront your professor like that, at least not in front of an audience. So you find it within yourself to slowly slug towards the staircase to plant yourself next to your friends. Both of whom were having the absolute time of their lives watching your dazed expression. 

You might have committed murder that day. 

You’re forced to snap out of it as you hear Seungcheol - professor Choi - begin to speak at the front of the class.

“Good morning everybody,” he starts, hands on his desk, a pleasant expression on his face as he awaits a response from his borderline comatose students. A chorus of good mornings greet him back, excluding your own.

“Hope you guys had a good break, welcome to Pure Math 171, my name is Professor Choi” he moves to scribble his name on the whiteboard, “And I would like to be referred as such.” 

His gaze finds you in your seat as he utters those words. He is quick to shift.

“We’re gonna be starting light today, I’ll be going through our unit guide and grading system…” 

Seungcheol talks. And talks. And talks. And you don’t listen. You watch instead.

You’re mad at him. Really mad at him. But you can’t help but wonder as he walks around looking like that. He’s in the simplest dress shirt and slacks of a neutral colour, but he wears it oh so well. 

You’ve watched him every morning as he gets dressed for work, knowing his attire has always suited him. Your friends who have been in his classes have expressed their disappointment when told he wasn’t single, and promptly draw open in shock when they realize it's you that’s snagged him before the world could. 

Seungcheol, for lack of a better word, hits different when he’s in his element. His hair is pushed back and out of his face, noting how his glasses look so much sexier when he’s pacing the room with hands dipped in his pockets. He’s speaking tongues of numbers and symbols, and it’s suddenly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

But you're mad at him. It shouldn’t be that hard to remind yourself. 

“You know, you’re being real ungrateful for a person who just got a free pass on the hardest class this fucking insitution can cook up,” Soonyoung whisper-shouts next to you.

Minghao quips beside him, “Look alive, sister, you’ve hit the jackpot.”

“Were you two in on it?” you finally snap, irritated at their apparent glee. 

Soonyoung snorts, “Fuck, no, we saw him when we walked in this morning”

“So did he know?” 

“Oh, I think Professor Choi would be glad to tell you himself after hours,” Minghao sleazes while Soonyoung throws you the greasiest wink known to man. 

Disgusted and disturbed, you turn your attention back to the front of the room. You’re still disgusted and disturbed. Seungcheol is still there, looking like he does, scribbling some example equation on the board. 

“Hmm. I think professor Choi ought to know his favourite student’s having trouble paying attention? We can’t have that, you should move up front.”

You do move. Away from your friends to the seats higher up. 

It’s a mind-numbing two hours in which you think you experience every emotion possible. 

You think of your friends who have sat in his classes all semester, that have ogled him and admitted his apparent attractiveness. There were people in this room that were thinking the very same thing in this very moment, and it was making your skin crawl. You wanted to get up and scream: This is your boyfriend.

But alas, you are but a tired, tired college student. He wouldn’t fail you, would he? Then again, he has a ruthless streak of keeping you from the lights of life when you’re slacking in dire times. You might be the love of his life, but he remains a man of discipline. 

It’s an annoying trait, but only ever in the moment. He might be the sole reason you haven’t completely lost yourself in the sea of academics. 

“I think we can wrap up with that, it’s basic stuff but it won’t hurt to revise on your own before next week when we really get into it,” Seungcheol’s voice booms.

There’s a churn in your stomach for some reason, and you have to neutralize your breathing as you watch the lecture hall slowly empty out. A few students remain lingering at the front desk for yet another round of buttering. Seungcheol entertains them, pleasant smile on his face, nodding along to something. You remain seated, arms and legs crossed as you stare daggers into the top of Seungcheol’s head as he speaks with his students. 

The remaining students file out as well, and you notice how Soonyoung and Minghao are long gone, leaving just you and Seungcheol alone in this big, big room. 

It’s only then that he looks up searching, to check if you had left yet.

He remembered quick. 

His eyes finally land on your, disgruntled, tight form, refusing to make eye contact for more than three seconds before huffing audibly, moving to put away your things. Seungcheol moves around his front desk, hands in pockets, hiking his way up the lecture steps to where you were at the top row. 

You’re shoving your laptop in your bag by the time he’s done with his trek, planting himself on the chair next to you loudly. You ignore him.

“Do you think we’d get in trouble if they caught us like this?” he muses after a few silent moments.

“Caught us like what?” You snap. There goes your pledge to remain silent.

“You can’t possibly think a teacher and his student caught in a classroom by themselves is necessarily a point in our favor” 

“I’ll do the honors then” with that you’re swinging your bag over your shoulder to trudge behind him to the steps leading down, wanting to be out of his presence for the time being. 

You’re barely past him when there’s a grip on your wrist, firm and purposeful, that tugs you backwards in a harsh manner. The bag on your shoulder is sent to the floor while you, in your entirety, are sent straight into Seungcheol’s lap. 

Bastard. 

The smirk on his face is enough to send you into a pot of livid fumes, right after you’re done balancing yourself on his shoulders. You try not to grip on too tight. 

“What makes you think you can leave without being dismissed?”  

“What the fuck.” 

“Language, miss. I don’t tolerate obscenities in my classroom.” It might’ve been a menacing threat, but with what lay behind the glint in his eyes you knew he was being a little shit. 

It takes you every fibre in your body to refrain from thinking too much about him. Him and his hands that rest on your thighs, him and his hands that are placed near your waist, stroking and pressing into your shirt. 

No, you're mad at him.

“Did you know?” you ask finally, tired of the back and forth.

“Nope,” he replies, “Found out when you walked in.” 

“Do you not read your attendance sheet? Isn’t that your job? You had the entirety of summer to give me a heads up, this is your fault!” 

“Dr. Kim got into an accident last night, she’s out of service for the rest of the semester. I didn’t know until I came in for my other class I was being switched over—” 

“How does that happen?!” you almost yell.

He’s silent for a moment before beginning again, “Do you want me to ask for another class?” 

Wait, what. 

“I didn’t say that—” You can’t finish because your being pushed off your seat on his lap to stand while he gets up as well.

“I’ll go talk to the co-ordinator then, class isn’t working out for me.” With that he’s trudging back down the steps, making a beeline for the door.

You’re left stunned at the top of the stairs, not knowing if he was being serious or not. Were you about to let his presence bother you that bad? To the point he had to switch classes? What were you even that upset about? 

Twirling around in place trying to look for the bag that was strewn about earlier, you grab the straps and race down the steps. If Seungcheol can hear your bounding footsetps, he doesn’t show it. Instead you crash into his back just as he’s about to leave the room, to which he turns around. 

The smirk seems glued to his face and you realize right then you may have been lured. With the 180° that had become of your perception, you couldn’t be mad at him anymore, cooling off the simmer that had been brewing for the past couple hours. 

“Maybe…Maybe I can live with seeing your face for a couple hours a week,” you mumble, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact.

He lets out an incredulous laugh, “Couple hours a week?! Do you realise we sleep in the same bed at night, pretty sure that’s more than a couple hours.”

“You know what I meant!” you huff, arms crossed and turning your head away. You cringe slightly at how you voice echoes across the large lecture hall. 

Feeling his hands enclose yours, pulling your body slowly towards him, you bring yourself to look back up at him. His hands come up behind you when you’re close enough, snaking up your back and waist. You try not to shudder, but it’s hard when you know he’s doing it on purpose. There’s warmth that radiates off of him, a stark contrast from the chill classroom, your fingers finding purchase around his own waist.

There’s more of that same warmth when he kisses you, short pecks, yet ones that have you smiling against his lips. The curve remaining as he rests his forehead on yours.

“Let’s go home, just need to grab my stuff,” he says, but makes no effort to move from his position.

“Are you already done for the day?” you frown.

“No,” he muses, “But it’s only the first day. Besides, I wanna sit in bed with my girl while I map her out for the first assignment of the semester.” 

“Does your girl get premium access?” 

“Hm, maybe.” 

Before you can refute, the door of the room bursts open with a bang that reaches straight into your soul. With the way Seungcheol’s eyes widen, you don’t doubt the same was happening in his own chest. 

There isn’t enough time for you to pull away before hearing gasps alluding from the threshold. 

Soonyoung and Minghao stand at the door, scandalized looks complete with hands over their faces. Hao shakes his head in mock disappointment, eyes pointed. Soonyoung pulls out his hands, framing them like he was taking a picture of the both of you gripping each other.

“Now what would the bulletin look like with these two on the front cover? You’re friends with Seok, right? D’you think you could put a word in?” Soonyoung yaps, the most insufferable look on his face.

Seungcheol laughs, to your surprise, and looks over to you, “What d’you think the bulletin would look like with his F on the front cover?” 

“D’you think you could put a word in?” you raise your eyebrows. 

His smile widens but he’s being pulled away as both your friends move forward to surround him. You vaguely register Soonyoung cupping your boyfriend’s face delicately, singsonging about their years of friendship, or how Hao has his arms wrapped around him in a back hug, head on his shoulder. 

You vaguely register any of it, because you’re smiling too hard at the scene. Smiling too hard when Seungcheol catches your eye, before bursting out laughing, attempting to wrestle the two off of him. 

You bring your phone up to the chaos instead of your hands, wanting to frame the scene for real this time. 

[madameminor]

Fox Fire - Commander Fox x f!reader - Chapter 1

Summary: In an effort to forget your on-again-off-again, you head out with your friends - and they're determined for you to meet one Commander Fox. After all, the quickest way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

Commander Fox x f!reader

Tags: Smutty mcsmutterson. 18+. NSFW. "Basically, all the good stuff."

Warnings: Nothing this round. Just build up.

Notes: Ok hi! Dunno why I wanted to do this, but I did. I'm excited for the story. Post-war, everyone's ok, that sort of thing. Thank you so much to @dumfanting and @rains-on-kamino for beta-ing and keeping my creative juices flowing. I've tagged all the people on my IMWTO list, JIC you're interested in following this story too. If you are, comment. If you don't, I'll remove you for next chapter. Thank yoooou. Let's get this party started!

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You have to hand it to Chrisa. If her significant other didn’t work here, you would never have thought of coming to the Clone Bar for your night out - but it is PERFECT for what you need.

All the clones made it easy to clock strangers.

The entire vibe of the place is all about coming in and forgetting the world outside.

None of your or Marco’s mutuals would EVER just happen to be here.

AND

You have a bartender on your side, so if anyone gets too handsy or in your face - insta-boot.

The anger from earlier has simmered into resolve, and any excess is going to be worked out on the dance floor. You’d had enough to drink before coming out to loosen you up, but not to spiral you down. You. Look. FAN-TASTIC. Nothing pumps you up like looking your absolute best - and knowing it.

Damn right. It was time to have some fucking fun.

Your gaggle stride up to the front doors, Chrisa flashing the front doorman a smile and a kiss on the cheek before sliding on in. The thick togruta grins as he waves you all in, the lively music thrumming up through your shoes. OOooooo YES! Here we GO!

Lights, bass, people, ALL of it. You’ve missed it. Your spirits lift at the beautiful sight of fun.

Chrisa leads you past the first few bars, piled up with people, making her way towards a third bar closer to the back. You all follow, chatting away excitedly and looking out over the writhing sea of people. Your smile is genuine. You missed this. You missed them. 

“Baaaaaabyyyyy!” your friend croons, leaning over the somewhat busy bar to kiss the bartender. The rest of you sidle up to the 3 empty seats between two groups of clones, offering your hellos.

“Well, look at this attractive group coming up to my bar,” the bartender, Ceese, says with a grin. Their eyes land on you. “Heard we’re celebrating tonight,” they say with a wink. “So let’s get you all started off on the right foot.”

Your girls cheer and you grin as Ceese sets out 6 double shots, filling them to the brim with your favorite alcohol. You laugh as each of your friends and Ceese all take a shot glass, gathering in close around you. 

“To taking out ta poodoo!” Lehla toasts, holding out her shot.

“KRIFF TA POODOO!” Five clinks as you all cheers and down your shots. The liquid comfort slithers through your body, and you breathe a bit easier. THIS is fun. You’re safe here. You slink your arms around Freen and Sizie and hug them close. They smile and hold you tight while Ceese pours out your drinks.

“There you are, drinks are up, get out there!”

You all cheer and grab your drinks, Chrisa leaning up to kiss them thanks for all of you as your crew saunters off to the dance floor. 

Lehla dives right into the center, turning to all of you, and, holding up her drink, proclaims with the gravity of a general headed into battle “Behbies, lets DANCE!!”

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Pulsing, beating, swaying, living. You laugh and twirl and thoroughly lose yourself in the pleasure of being out with your friends. This was amazing. This was life as it ought to be. 

Only exhaustion and the need for another drink eventually pulls you off the floor, plunking you and your friends down into an open booth.

“More drinks, more drinks!” Sizie chants.

“Oh gods I can’t MOVE,” Freen whines as she leans back. She makes begging eyes at Lehla. Well, the Rodian equivalent. “Lehlaaaaa…”

Lehla good naturedly rolls her eyes. “ALright, alright. Chrisa, that's you and me. Lets go get the goods.” 

Chrisa laughs and loops arms with hers, the two heading back to the bar.

You fan yourself, glancing over your two friends as they gab away with each other, taking a second to get your bearings. The anger is burning off now, leaving just the sadness, the hurt… but its nice to remember everything you gain by… well, by things changing. Change is good. You take a deep breath, letting the comfort settle back in.

“Why do they keep looking over here?” Sizie’s voice cuts through, curious.

You look over towards the bar and see Chrisa and Lehla chatting with Ceese and a few troopers - commanders by their pauldrons. Of course Chrisa knew the regulars, probably catching up. And, uh, they all keep looking over. At you. Specifically at you.

Uh oh. “Oh Mother, what are they up to…”

Freen laughs. “Knowing them, something AMAZING.”

Chrisa and Lehla hurry over, both with a mysterious glint in their eye. Chrisa plops down next to you while Lehla leans in with a smirk, hand on the table.

“Soooooo,” Chris says with a sly grin, “do you think that clones are attractive?”

You side-eye her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Weeeeell,” Chrisa tilts her head to the side, letting you see past her, “one of my ‘friends’ over there happens to be Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.”

Your stomach tightens with regret.

You sigh, your forehead in your hand. “Chris, you know I don’t-”

She waves her hand at you. “-get on with law enforcement, I know I know. BUT,” she grins, holding a finger up to halt interruptions, “that’s long term. Fox is usually super busy, so he doesn’t really have much time for women in his life. Like, EVER.” She smirks with a small eye roll. “His team almost has to blackmail him to go out with them and relax - and that almost NEVER involves a woman. But that doesn't mean he hasn’t had off-ers,” she says in a sing-song voice. The others giggle as they glance off towards where the Commander sits.

Chris continues. “SO. It wouldn’t be for long- a fling, a jaunt, a roll in the hay, something cas-u-al-and-FUN!” She emphasizes each syllable to get her point across. “You need this. Something different to show you that you can actually be HAPPY in bed, with someone who actually CARES.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “How the heck do you know he ‘cares’?”

She grins again. “I’ve known him for a loooong time. And on the rare occasion that he’s drunk enough to loosen up and actually go home with someone, they ALWAYS come in again talking about how GOOD he is.”

You blink in surprise, and a little shock. “People talk about that?

She shrugs good-naturedly. “Bunker bunnies do. No judgement, they just like to try ‘all the clone flavors’.” She winks. “And I love to hear the gos about the regulars.”

You smirk as the others laugh. Trust Chrisa to be the bar gossip gatherer.

“So, what, you want me to hope he gets drunk, present myself to him and say ‘hi, my ex is an ass and I broke up with him today. Wanna fuck?’”

“Oh NO,” Chrisa pulls a face, “I wouldn’t suggest it if it was that impersonal. See, apparently…” she leans her cheek on one hand, grin glistening with mischief. “He’s been looking over at you all night.”

You blink. You try to sneak a look over to the bar to try and catch a glimpse of this Commander Fox. Two of the red and white clad clones start waving and pointing excitedly between them at the seated one beside them, facing away with what looks like his forehead in his hand. You’re sad you can’t see his face, but you can’t help but smile to yourself. You kind of know how he feels.

“And he’s… cute?” You say hesitantly.

Chrisa perks up and grins. “Oh YEAH. I’ve definitely glanced at him a time or two, don’t tell Ceese.”

“And… safe?” 

“YES,” Chris almost huffs a whine in exasperation. “Who do you think I am??”

Well…

It’s not what you normally do…

…but you ARE trying to do things differently this time…

Just one conversation? You didn’t even have to say yes…

He could be cute…

You look around at your friends' faces. Are any of them unsure about this? Would any advise you that this wasn’t a good idea?

Nope. All of their eyes are excited, almost pleading.

“...ok. I’ll at least talk to him.”

You friends all burst out with a “YES!” You smirk and shake your head. Jeez, you didn’t think you needed it THAT bad.

Chrisa stands and gives a thumbs up to the two clones waiting at the bar. They both pump fists in the air before leaning down to talk to the hunched Commander- who simply punches one of them in the arm without looking over at him. You laugh to yourself. Yeah, you definitely know THAT feeling. The poor guy.

Whatever they say to him, it apparently seems to work. He begrudgingly turns around on his stool and stands, grabbing his helmet. One of his men claps him on the shoulder, which he pushes off angrily before taking a deep breath, turning, and starting his way over to where you and your friends sit. 

You feel your breath catch a bit in your chest, something your girls notice with a smirk. He’s GORGEOUS. His hair isn’t standard clone cut - its a bit longer on top and down the back, the sides cropped short. You can see whisps of gray at the side of his temples, almost looking like highlights, making him seem more mature. He has a scar across one cheekbone adding to an authoritative air - but not oppressive or dismissive. His eyes are a beautiful amber brown, serious, but not cynical. And, you notice with a small smile, right now he looks just a little bit… sheepish. 

A man like this has been watching you? A trooper who doesn’t normally take girls home had seen you and not been able to disguise it from his overeager companions? You feel yourself preen internally as he finishes making his way over. 

“Commander Fox, meet the rest of my besties - Freen (she waves), Sizie (a nod and smile), and of course, The-woman-you’ve-been-staring-at-all-night.”

He glances at her with annoyance as your friends laugh. You extend a hand out to shake his hand with your introduction.

“Its… very nice to meet you.” He nods, resigning to the awkwardness of being caught.

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair so you two can get acquainted,” Chrisa simpers. You give her a ‘stop that’ look as she and the girls all file out with winks and excited grins. Sizie even seems to shake little pom poms, mouthing “go, girl, go!”

You play a bit with one earring as you look back at him.

“Sorry about them,” you smile. “Teasing is their love language.”

He snorts with a glance back at them, relaxing a bit. “I know the feeling.”

You chuckle despite yourself. He seems to relax a bit, a smirk playing on his authoritative features.

“Would you care to step into my office, Mr. Fox?” 

He chuckles this time, giving you a quick appreciative glance before sitting down across from you, placing his helmet by his side.

“Excuse me.” A service droid waddles up with two drinks - one your usual, the other looks like a whisky neat for him. You look at it, confused, while it sets them on the table.

“Compliments of the bartender, with the accompanying message-” says the matter of fact tinny voice. “‘-Make out already-’.”  You look up to the crowd of onlookers from the bar giving you both a thumbs up. 

You show them a different finger. 

They all burst out laughing, but get the hint and go back to each other.

You turn back, catching an impressed smirk while he gazes at you.

“You sure showed them.”

 You chuckle while you take a sip of your drink.

“So,” you smile, “come here often?”

He snorts an appreciative chuckle before shaking his head and indicating the two Corries at the bar. “Enough. Though not as much as my men would like.”

You chuckle, glancing over at the excited huddle. “I didn’t know the men of the Coruscant guard were so invested in their Commander’s R&R.”

A sigh and an eye roll, another sip of his drink. “Apparently getting away from work is ‘necessary’ for a healthy, ungrumpy lifestyle.” You nod sagely, indicating you see the sarcasm. “Just my luck to have the subordinates that actually care about my work-life balance.”

“Luck seldom has anything to do with things like that,” you smile, leaning your cheek on your hand. You know what garners unerring loyalty and hard work. You know the kind of leader it takes to make men march into danger- just to drag that S.O. to the bar afterwards - the kind who men take care of, because he took care of his men. “You must be a great commander if they worry about you so much.” And smart, and firm, but kind under it all, and… hoo, slow down honey. 

For some reason, looking at him, knowing what it takes to be a leader, to be someone who watches out for others, you feel compelled to say something you’ve never said before.

“Thank you. For your service.”

His head quirks to the side, eyes interested as they take you in. “I can’t really take much credit for that… it wasn’t entirely my choice, you know.”

You chuckle. “Perhaps not. But I’ve heard of clones who have sought other lives now that the war is over and your rights have been won - can’t blame them at all. I understand not wanting to do what you’re ‘born for’.” You unconsciously watch the bubbles in your drink for a moment before realizing your thoughts are straying, looking back into his intrigued eyes. “So you did have a choice. And you chose to help the people of Coruscant.” You smile, and shrug.  “So, for whatever it's worth, thank you.”

“Hm.” He smiles thoughtfully, regarding you for a moment while he takes a sip of his drink. “Actually, coming from you, it means a lot more,” his eyes take you in again, admiring, intrigued, inviting.

It sends a happy warmth through your insides.

He sets his drink down again, folding his arms and leaning in on his elbows. “So. Born for, huh? Tell me, what were you ‘born for’?”

You smirk, waving a hand in dismissal. Definitely a cop. “Nothing that I’m doing. But I’m an event planner.” You shrug, knowing it doesn’t sound like much to someone who regularly risks their life.

“Hm,” he answers, intrigued. Like actually intrigued. “Can’t say I’ve ever met someone in that field before. What’s your favorite part of the job?”

Hm. You can’t help your smile. No one ever really cares to hear about this part. “Well,” you think, having a genuine look at your chosen profession, “I meet a fair amount of different, interesting people. I'm more active and involved than other jobs, I get to create something, after a fashion, get to create beauty and harmony for people to celebrate or commemorate something.” And you do it well, you know you do. You’re proud of the work you do. “Its satisfying. Like I’m doing good in my own way.”

He smiles at that. 

“‘Interesting people’, huh? Have any good stories?”

“Hah,” you chuckle. “Oh do I.” You perk up, leaning in conspiratorially. “And in your line of work, you probably know some of the main antagonists.” 

His eyes definitely light up with interest. 

Pulling no punches, you dive into tales about Senators, big wigs, their staff, their relatives, the drama before, during, and after. His laughter is all the more hearty knowing who you're talking about. He even thanks you once for making him laugh so hard he cries about a particular Senator from Naboo and a Jedi getting told off for inappropriate use of an ice sculpture.

Knowing you know the main players, he pays you back 10 fold with his own stories- ridiculous requests, entitled children put in their place, the shenanigans his men pull when they think he isn't aware. You swap stories back and forth, relaxing in each others company, unwittingly moving closer together.

He’s nice, you keep thinking. He’s cute. He’s serious, but can laugh. You wonder… what he’s like when he’s alone, in the dark, laying in his own bed...

You only realize how long its been when you take a sip of your drink only to find the cold, watery dregs of melted ice. As you glance into your glass, with a small curse, you hear him say quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself:

“How anyone could do something stupid enough to lose a woman like you is beyond me.” He says quietly, almost to himself. You duck your head, a bit bashful, but keep your eyes up. So he’s feeling it too. He still wants you. He… he likes you. 

Maybe its knowing that, or maybe its the drinks. Or both. But suddenly you feel… sexier.

You look up at him through your eye lashes. 

“Is it alright if I… get more comfortable?”

His eyes spark with excitement and intrigue. “Of course,” he says quietly.

You close the small distance and slide into his lap, your back to the (you are totally sure) excited onlookers. 

You feel your heart pounding at the closeness, skin electric at your own daring.

“Is this alright?”

“Yes.” His voice is much deeper than it was. “More than alright.”

“Good,” you smile, one hand tracing behind his neck, lightly trailing through his curls. He gently places his hand on your leg, his coarse gloves ticking along your thigh, bewitched eyes starting to turn ravenous. 

‘You are absolutely stunning,” he breathes, voice low and serious.

You smile bashfully. “Thank you, its true.”

He lifts his hand and cups your neck, thumb tracing the length of your throat.

“I definitely, definitely want to kiss you right now.”

You place a finger against his lips. He smirks, slowly opening his mouth to lightly bite your fingertip. You breath catches at the small, sensual gesture. His eyes darken at the sound, his teeth releasing you.

“Kriff, mesh’la. I’m going to take such good care of you tonight.”

He kisses you. 

It's like a fire has started in your blood, burning away anything that isn’t this moment right here. You want him. You want him so badly, with his locks between your fingers and his teeth on your throat and his cock in your-

And you can. Because there is absolutely nothing holding you back.

You pull away just enough that your words ghost against his lips. “Do you want to get out of here… Commander?

His kiss is more insistent this time, ending with a small bite pulling your lower lip.

“More than anything.”

You slide off of him before taking him by the hand. He barely looks away from you as he grabs his helmet and dutifully follows you out of the club.

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