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sugurusdiscordmoderator · 3 months

Note

your writing is so goooood wahhh the nanami fic had me on my knees, could you write a pizza delivery boy gojo x reader? maybe he's always picking up reader's orders so he can see her or something hehe (can be fluff or smut) ❤

WOOOO ANOTHER GOJO FIC

another college AU - slightly inspired by a story that actually happened in my life (it was less romantic irl and more creepy lmao)

reader is 20ish gojo is 22ish

cw: masturbation, sex?

Your sophomore year of college you absolutely scored when you found your apartment. It was on one of the main streets of the city so you could walk anywhere you want to go, hosted parties, and just had fun! The first floor of your building was a pizza shop which you occasionally stopped in; the owner of the shop owned the whole building so he was also your landlord and was a sweet older Italian man.

There was a tall employee that always caught your eye, but he was always working in the back. Most of the time you were picking up pizza your landlords sweet daughter was working the register so you never talked to the white haired beautiful man. However it seems like l you had caught his eye too? No you were just being delusional, he wasn’t staring at you… but how could you be mistaken with those bright blue eyes that you seem to look away as soon as you make eye contact with?

It’s not that you’re shy. It’s just that this man is so attractive your cheeks immediately blush and you can’t even try to talk to him. (hey Siri queue Gorgeous by Taylor Swift)

That is until one day, when you texted your landlord and asked if the delivery guy or someone could bring your order upstairs because you were “sick” (you were just hungover but you looked the part of being sick so whatever). He responds with a no problem and about 15 minutes later you hear an imposing knock on your door, almost entirely too loud for your tiny apartment building. It makes your head pound and even though it’s 4 pm and your hangover is still lingering around.

You mosey on over to the door, sweatpants, Ugg slippers, an ex boyfriends hoodie you kept, with your hair in a braid that definitely needed washed. You open the door, squinting at the fluorescent overhead lights before realizing just who was at your door.

The white haired man with the beautiful cerulean eyes was looking down at his phone waiting for the door to be answered and when he looks up the two of you lock eyes. Suddenly you become aware of just how bad you look and your eyes grow wide at your downstairs crush at your door.

“Are you…y/n? The boss asked me to bring this up to you.” The mystery delivery man asks with a shy smirk and hands you to box.

“Oh thank you yes I’m y/n,” you say fumbling in your pocket for the $20 bill you put in there earlier. “Um here…keep the change,” you awkwardly stick your hand out with the money in it, realizing how hot the pizza box is in your other hand.

“What if I asked for your number as a tip instead?” He smugly asks, now leaning his lanky frame up against your door frame. You bring your eyes up to meet his, trying to find if he was joking by the features of his face. He stuffs the $20 in his pocket and pulls out his phone and wiggles it in his hand, as if to say ‘see?’. Your lips draw into a slight smile seeing his goofiness, “sure,” you giggle making his smile grow wider.

He hands you his phone for you to type your number and name in with your free hand, your other hand still holding up your pizza you’ve been looking forward to.

“Thank you m’lady,” he winks at you when you hand his phone back and pushes off your doorframe and walks away down the stairs. “Text ya later,” he yells up at you from the bottom and you just smile and close your apartments front door, leaning against it and smiling as you open up the box and take a bite.

You anxiously await a text from the pizza boy only after realizing you still don’t know his name or his number but he has both of those pieces of information about you. The half eaten pizza box lays on your coffee table while Netflix drones on with a reality tv show in the background. You scroll through Instagram liking everyone’s pictures from the previous night out and daytime party shenanigans. You’re drawn out of your trance like state when you feel your phone vibrate, a message from an unsaved number popping up.

‘hi pretty lady 😘 - your favorite pizza boy’

He still hasn’t given you his damn name so you can’t look him up anywhere. Suddenly all flirting skills have gone out the window and you have no idea how to text back.

‘You’re such a flirt, do you treat all your customers with such kindness?’ you ultimately respond with.

‘only if their name is y/n and they live in apartment 2b :)’ he responds too fast and you’re immediately apprehensive. Why is this beautiful man flirting with you so brazenly out of no where? This smells like a fuck boy situation, but hey, what’s wrong with a hook up or friend with benefits? Maybe it’s time to up the ante and play with some fire.

‘Funny, I haven’t even gotten your name yet and you’re already laying it on thick. Seems to me you’re quite the flirt.’

*one image attached*

‘Am I still a flirt if I made this while thinking about you?’

‘yes actually, more so than before.’

‘fine :( but i need someone to share this with?’

‘I’m literally still working on the pizza you brought up here earlier, take it to the other girls I’m sure you’re also flirting with rn’

‘ouch shots fired’

You stare at your phone screen smiling like a teenager, kind of wanting to get to know this guy a little better. You smirk to yourself before typing out:

‘fine. I don’t want more pizza but I do want to hang out.’

The pizza boys only response for now is ‘😱😱😱’ so you decide to get off the couch and shower for the evening. Washing your hair, shaving your legs and other areas, exfoliating, and making sure you smell extra nice. At least if you don’t see a guy tonight you can consider this self care? After a relaxing 15 minute shower you wrap your hair in one towel and your body in another. You head into your bedroom and proceed to brush out your hair and put on some sweatpants and a sports bra while you get ready. Sitting down at your vanity, you put on a light amount of makeup before blow drying your hair to look “natural” as if you didn’t just spend an hour getting ready.

You start to get dressed as well, taking off your sweats first, when you hear a knock at your front door. Confused, you walk over and look out your peep hole. Oh god, of course the beautiful white haired man knew how to get into your building and just showed up at your door. You crack the door just a bit to stick your head out, embarrassingly saying, “Hey I’m sorry can you give me two seconds I don’t have pants on.”

Without waiting for his answer you close the door again and run back into your bedroom and put on the sweatpants you just took off as well as a light weight tank top that was laying on the bed next to it.

‘Did he really just show up to my door unannounced?’ You think to yourself reaching for your phone. It turns out he did respond earlier while you were in the shower, you just hadn’t looked until you picked up your phone right this second.

‘sounds good, what do you want to do this fine evening?’

You stared at the text, mouth opened, slightly resembling a fish out of water. At least you had gotten your hair and makeup done but it took you an hour of not texting him back. Rushing back to your front door you reopen it to him leaning against the wall on his phone playing a game.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, cheeks flushed, swinging the door open for him to come in before stopping him in the doorway, “You’re not like a serial killer right?”

He throws his head back with a boyish laugh, meanwhile you just want an honest answer, you didn’t think your question was all that funny.

“No, I’m not,” he finally answers after noticing the apprehension in your face.

When you move to let the stranger inside your apartment, you throw caution to the wind and think, ‘well if I am going to die, at least it’ll be by this beautiful stranger?’ (damn reader, I think you would have LOVED Ted Bundy back in his day)

The man stands looking around your joint living room kitchen area, one hand in his pocket, one hand lifting his round black sunglasses from the bridge of his nose to on top of his head, resting among the snowy tufts of hair. He must have just got off an afternoon shift, smelling of Italian food wearing old jeans, a tshirt and converse.

Given it’s about 6 o’clock at this point, the sun has begun to set, setting golden hour aflame through your west facing windows of your apartment. The white walls glow orangish-yellow with tiny refractions from your little plants and decorations lining the windowsill, creating rainbows in random areas across the room. Your tv still hums in the background with a garbage show, before this potential murderer finally speaks up, as if he��s fully comprehended and assessed the room.

“The names Gojo, Satoru Gojo.” He smiles, only needing to take one of his large strides before he’s in front of you ready to shake your hand.

“Thank you for finally telling me your name,” you smirk, having to nearly crane your neck to make eye contact with him.

He wiggles his eyebrows and licks his lips before asking, “so no pizza but you wanted to hang out. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I missed your text when I was in the shower so I haven’t put a lot of thought into it. We can go somewhere to grab a drink or do something or we can chill out here?” You try not to seem too bossy but not too submissive either, and by the looks of it Satoru is as confident as ever.

“Well the boss man gave me some free bottles of wine that I have in my car I can grab and we can watch some of whatever you have on, and maybe re-evaluate in a little if we want to do anything else?” He accentuates ‘anything’ with a wink and you swear your knees could give out.

“That sounds great.”

You make some popcorn and grab glasses of wine while Satoru goes to his car and grabs his duffle bag with wine and clean clothes and comes back inside.

“Sorry to ask, but can I take a quick shower? I kinda feel gross after an 8 hour shift.” A slight blush creeps across his cheeks while he pulls out four bottles of wine. He notices the shocked look on your face, “Oh sorry I didn’t know how much you drink so I just brought all 4 bottles he gave me, I figured we could have two each.”

“Two each?!” You laugh as he makes his way towards your bathroom. He smiles back at you before closing the door behind him. You stand up to head to the kitchen counter to uncork one of the wine bottles when you realize that the extra towels aren’t in your bathroom, they’re in the dryer right now! The last thing you need is a naked wet man in your apartment right? You grab and fold one of the towels quickly and hurry over the the bathroom door before knocking politely.

“Satoru?”, you question. “Sorry…I forgot to give you a towel earlier-”

You’re cut off by the door swinging open. The pale man’s almost completely naked save for his boxer briefs which he has no shame showing. You notice a scar across his chest, his perky man nipples, the defined pectoral and ab muscles atop his beautiful v-line, accentuated with a white happy trail running down the middle leading straight to… a bulge.

But like he wasn’t hard no, his soft penis must have been so large but even then he had a pretty big bulge. You wonder what it would look like when it’s -

“Well you answered the door with no pants earlier so I didn’t think it would be a problem here,” he cuts you off, smirking as he watches your embarrassed features. He totally just saw you checking him out, you feel no better than a man!! You hand him the towel before reaching over to close the bathroom door for him, walking wide eyed back over to the couch with a glass of white wine.

You can’t get the shape of his body out of your mind, god you can’t believe he was in there, using your shampoo and soaps and being naked while you’re right here on the couch, not able to witness it. You let the perverted thoughts take over your mind some, thinking about the way his pale skin would look covered in your nail scratches and bite marks. Or how about how perfect his cock must be? Everything else about him was absolutely gorgeous, so his cock has to be the perfect mixture of girth and length with a nice vein or two, and a cute pink tip leaking his precious pre cum right? You think back about his long deft fingers, and much better they’d feel inside you than your own. Being under the spell of your own horniness, you slip your left hand under the waist band of your sweat pants and lace panties thinking about this Satoru guy…slipping your tiny fingers around your swollen clit, giving it a pinch before sliding up and down your folds, collecting your wetness before slipping your middle finger in your tight hole. You close your eyes, slipping the throw blanket from the back of the couch over your lap as another layer of protection in case Satoru is quiet coming out of the bathroom, but he’s not a very quiet person so you’re not toooo concerned.

Although you’ve had intercourse fairly recently, you feel like you’re in the midst of a drought, a withdrawal from being touched. Your skin feels almost itchy, so aroused by this man even though today is the first time you’ve actually talked to him. You alternate playing with your folds and rubbing your clit thinking about how good he must look with the water running down his abs and through his glistening white hair. You think just maybe, you might have time to make yourself cum before he gets out of the shower. After all with how excited you are, it should just take a few minutes. You scurry from the couch to your bedroom gently shutting the door behind you, before throwing your pants off and reaching into your bedside drawer to grab your hot pink little vibrator to help hurry yourself along.

You think you can hear Satoru singing in the showering, making you sigh in relief a little knowing he still probably has another few minutes. Sticking your hand down your lace panties, you press up against your soaking hole area with your middle and ring fingers, while using your other hand to press the vibrator on and turning it up to the medium setting. You rock in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm, thinking about this man being on top of you. God, he just looks like one of those guys that is good at everything he does so you know he must be a great partner.

Letting go of yourself perhaps comes a bit too easy, laying your head back against your decorative pillows, letting out just a tiny whimper. Muffled whistling comes from the bathroom followed by what sounds like something squeaking. You think it’s the water shutting off, and proceed to panicking and switch the vibrator to high to finish while he’s drying off. You feel yourself getting close, reaching extra deep to find your own g-spot. Pushing against it your eyes immediately roll back and you feel yourself getting close to the edge. You do your best to bite down on your lip to keep noises from escaping, with both hands being other wise occupied.

Your thoughts return to the man in your bathroom, drying off, wondering if he’s gotten off to you in the shower right there, before getting a little sad because you wish he would let you take care of him! A particularly loud whimper escapes as your back arches off the bed, your legs threatening to shake violently.

“Y/n…?” Your bedroom door swings open, Satoru Gojo walking in right as you reach your peak. Your jaw drops half out of ecstasy and half embarrassment, closing your eyes and riding out the last few seconds of your orgasm. There’s no point trying to hide or make excuses, you got caught. Not only that, but Gojo’s jaw is also on the floor, the blood rushing to his lower region as he is still slightly moist from the shower but only wearing a new clean pair of boxer briefs.

“I’m - so - sorry -” you pant to him with your eyes still closed, slowly removing your fingers from inside you and turning the vibrating off.

“Fuckkkk, that was so hot!! ,” Satoru wines striding over to join you on your bed. He takes the fingers you were about to your juices off of and pops them in his mouth, staring you in the eyes as he swirls his tongue around your petite digits and groaning in pleasure. “I can’t believe you couldn’t wait for me! Naughty girl, I just - wow- you’re so wet??” Satoru stammers to you, leaning his large frame over your body, blush creeping across his cheeks, but you know your face is even more red.

You sit up and lean back from Gojo, “sorry that was an..accident. You weren’t supposed to see that uh, um, I have a medical condition!! And I have to - you see…,” your embarrassment just digging you deeper into a hole as you reach for your panties and sweatpants on the other side of the bed. It’s not that Satoru seems to mind though, he actually seems kind of impressed.

As you slip your panties on, he sits on the bed giving you space but wraps his arm around your waist, “Hey..y/n… you don’t have to make up a really shitty excuse or anything, I kinda thought it was hot. Like if you want to fuck me you could just say it?” He says almost cockily trying to lighten your mood.

“I’m sorry I just like it’s not lady like? And I didn’t even like go on a date with you or anything yet…not that we have to go on a date first! I just like met you today and I feel like really bad!” You ramble on, both of your heads leaning closer and closer as he strokes your hair to calm you down. He gently guides your head to rest on his shoulder, “don’t be embarrassed babe, it’s not like I haven’t heard you have sex before.”

Your head shoots up, a new wave of embarrassment coursing through you. “Huh - what do you mean?” You stutter out.

“You realize right under your cute little room is the office in the back of the restaurant…right? And the nights when I’m in charge after the old man goes home…let’s just say some of the men you’ve brought home don’t seem to have good rhythm.”

Your jaw drops at this revelation, immediately growing defensive. “And who’s to say your rhythm is better? Besides - I -”

You’re cut off by Satoru taking the lead, his finger up to your bottom lip as to get you to quit nervous mumbling. “Hush hunny, just let me prove it to you.” He gently pushes you back against your bed, his lips finding yours before you can protest. You give in to making out with his cute pink lips, he guides a hand to the back of your neck, taking power over the kiss. You nip at his bottom lip at which he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, pushing his tongue into your mouth. His other hand comes to grab at your chest through your sports bra as you grab the sides of his face with passion. He breaks the kiss just by an inch, enough to breathlessly ask, “you’re okay with this right?”

Satoru smirks, knowing he has you in the palm of his hand. Instead of answering, you kiss back, this time taking initiative to swirl your tongue with his. The heated make out section reaches a tipping point as Satoru leans more of his body weight against yours, now your pelvic regions touching. His harder member through his boxers rubbing against your soaked lace panties. The fabric on fabric contact in the sensitive region has you whimpering into his mouth.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says with fake sympathy, “I already have you whimpering and I’ve barely touched you.” You roll your eyes as he uses his long fingers to brush the hair away from your neck ghosting his lips leaving a fraction of a kiss from your jawline down to collarbone. His breathing against your skin makes goosebumps form, before licking a specific spot halfway down your neck, right next to your jugular. He sucks down, ripping another whimper from you, rolling your hips up to cause more friction against his erection.

He smirks against your skin, “I think I found your sensitive spot-” and you cut him off pushing him back up to attach his lips to your neck again. You moan a little more freely this time.

“Uhnnnn, Satoruuuu…please, I need more!”

You whine removing your hands from his hair and creeping down his muscular back, feeling every single defined muscle. You decide to have a little fun, scratching a little harder as you run your hands down before grabbing the waistband of his boxers. “Off,” you whisper and this time he moans, seeming just as affected by you as you are by him.

He sits up to take off his boxers and you take the opportunity to remove your panties again, and your bra this time. You swear Satoru’s pupils turn into hearts when he sees your chest.

“Oh my god I think I’m in love,” he whispers, before leaning in fast and attaching his mouth to the right nipple. He used a lot of tongue and a little teeth, making your buds feel so much better than you ever thought possible. As he switches to your other nipple your eyes roll back.

You reach down through your legs to start stroking Satoru’s hard member. Although you can’t see it with the way his body is situated you can tell it’s massive. Like barely can wrap your hand around it massive and when you go up and down there’s sooo much!

“Can I fuck you please?” Satoru looks up at you with lust filled eyes, a sheen covering his lips and your nipples. He looks like what you could only imagine as a milk drunk baby looking up at its mother.

“Please, Satoru, fuck me,” you respond, running your thumb over his tip and spreading the precum. He leans back to line himself up, and now you can see the full image. The muscular upper body, now littered with a few scratches from you. The snowy fully hair, his eyes blown out with lust looking like he could devour you whole. Plus that beautiful cock you got yourself off to not even 15 minutes prior. It’s just as amazing as the one you made up in your head thinking about him.

You bite your lip and smile as his tip touches your entrance, him squeezing your hip with one hand as the other grips his base. He pushes in slowly and gently, letting you adjust with gentle shallow thrusts until you’re able to manage. “Oh-ohhh my god,” his breathing hitches in his throat? “Oh my GOD you feel so fucking good!” He is acting like he has just won the lottery, taking his time with his thrusts.

You smile up at him as he holds your leg, calf up against your shoulder. He places a tiny kiss along your leg before grabbing your other leg and placing it on his his other shoulder.

“Baby, can I please show you my rhythm now?” Satoru practically begs.

“Mhmmm, please,” you moan, already feeling full to the brim with his cock but needing more pleasure. He excelerates slowly, snapping his hips with high intensity. You feel his skinny hip bones make contact with the back of your legs every time, along with the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your lower region. You’re in love with his little babbles, you’ve never met a more vocal man in bed. Every few seconds he’s saying “fuck yeah baby,” or a grunt/moan, throwing his head back, or “shit y/n”

Your toes start to curl and he notices, along with the slight tremble growing in your legs.

“You close baby?” He stammers out lowering one hand to stroke your cheek lovingly.

“Yes -toru,” you stammer out, only able to get half of his name out with how out of breath and white hot you feel. His eyes roll back in pleasure at the nickname, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your clit, rubbing tiny circles on the puffy mound to help bring you over the edge.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You half moan half chant, barely having possession over your own body at this point.

“C’mon, let go for me y/n, please pretty girl go on and cum,” the combination of Satoru’s words and how he says your name sends you over the edge, pulsing around him, eyes rolled back gripping white knuckled on the sheets.

Seeing how pretty you looked cumming on his cock, Satoru is so close to follow, not even caring that his cum his going inside you (I mean hey you didn’t tell him not to?) he grips your sides as he lets go, a grip that you know will leave 10 little perfect oval bruises tomorrow. All he manages is grunts that border whimpers “so so good, fuck,” he says out of breath, laying down comfortably with you with his cock still in side and giving you both a moment to process what just happened.

“You proved me wrong,” you whisper and he looks at you confused. “That was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had, I don’t fucking care about rhythm or any other man at this point,” you continue, covering your face with your hands and giggling.

He chuckles along with you, “I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten, I maybe should get an award for ‘sex dick given to y/n’”

You giggle more, both of you in your post orgasm mood, just being silly and romantically pillow talking.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” satoru says after a few more minutes of banter, and before you and even go to sit up, he is too fast and picks you up bridal style to carry to the bathroom. He sits you on the toilet and lets you clean yourself as he gets a washcloth with cold water and washes his face, before washing off his now flaccid penis (which still looked good which is really fucking hard to do). Upon returning to your bedroom, putting on clothes again and regaining your composure, you watch Gojo going through your closet.

You tilt your head at him and he answers before you can say a word. “Listen I know this is like the opposite of gender norms but can I borrow a tshirt?” You giggle and show him where you keep them and let him pick.

You settle out in the living room with your glass of wine, bowl of popcorn, and a blanket, resuming your prior plans. He joins you a few seconds later, wearing an old tshirt from high school that has one of the United States presidents on it in a rocking chair that says “JFK ROCKS”

You bust out laughing, not only at that fact it was almost a little too short on him, but also you had no idea where that shirt was or how he found it. He laughs along with you, opening one of the other bottles of wine.

He sits on the other end of the couch so both of your legs are all tangled and cozy , covered by your blanket. “So,” he then takes a bite of popcorn, creating an awkward pause.

You decide to interject first, “I’m sorry that like you saw me getting myself off and that I had sex with you like right after meeting you… you probably think I’m a slut but I’d actually like to get to know you.” You blush and take a sip of wine as he looks like a crazy person, before repeating himself.

“So,” he starts, “what I was going to say is that we need to get some real food and stop at the store and get a plan b, then come back for round 2,” he sips his wine, “also you’re not a slut and even if you are I’m a slut so oh well,” another tiny sip of wine and popcorn, “so this is me doing things a little backwards. Would you be my date for this evening?”

“You’re asking me on a date?” You gawk at him on accident, just surprised with how this whole day turned out.

“Yes I am sweets, now go get a jacket.”

—

very sorry anon February was a rough month (and so is March) for me this has been in my drafts 4ever

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo brainrot #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #jjk x reader smut #pizza boy gojo

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dokk-fukuro · 10 months

Note

so reader is already Lovecraft wife and says she loves all of him

Which leads to him turning into his true form and loving her

Fluff to smut

Not of This World [H.P. Lovecraft x f!Reader]

TW: SMUT, Minors DNI, afar reader, mention of using abilities, reader has ability too, mention of tentacles, she/her pronouns, mention of female genitals POV: You're the owner of an incredibly powerful ability that scares the inhabitants of your small town. And they decide to use you as a sacrificial bride for the Great Old One, because he haunts sailors on the water A/N: This is also the job I told you about, lol Word count: 3 821

The sacrificial bride. Sounds like a verdict, which isn't far from the truth. You, reconciled to your fate, are preparing for your “wedding” with something that will not leave a small town with outdated traditions alone. Surprisingly, they use quite modern technologies, but are forced to “please” small gods and creatures from outside, bringing them the gift of what they want.

You look at yourself in the mirror. You are not particularly happy with this outcome. You are only sixteen years old, and you are already forced to become a victim to please the Great Old One. And all why? And the answer lies in your shadows, with which you were “gifted” once, which now seem to you a curse. They're alive. They sometimes talk to you, tell you about what they have heard, what they have seen, what they have reached.

So you once found out that the head of a small town, a lustful old man, is ready to “marry” you to a monster from the depths of the sea, near which the city stands.

“We need him to leave the city alone. Even her parents don’t need this girl, and I’m sorry to give away others,” is what the shadows brought you. And since then, you have been preparing for what awaits you. The shadows that evening were ready to tear the headman to pieces for those words. It is true that your parents were cold towards you, loving only your younger sister and older brother.

"Smile, child, it's not every day that you get a chance to be a bride." It sounds from somewhere behind, and from this you want to grimace. Yes, not every day, but it would be better if there were never such moments in your life, and therefore the words spoken by an elderly woman who straightens her dress and tightens the corset at your waist seem like a mockery.

Your hair is only partly tied up. A pair of small strands are woven into braids that frame the face. Your eyes are on the people helping with the preparations like you're going to curse them. Oh, if you really could. You only seem paler when you look at yourself.

You hate them all, but slowly you accept the inevitable.

A whole procession accompanies you. A cloth is draped over your head so you can't see where you're being led. And only by the sound of water, which is only getting louder somewhere down there, you understand that this is a cliff. How you want to curse them all for eternal suffering. His father, mother, brother and sister, let alone the whole town. They tie you by the hands to a lonely tree standing on a cliff, but the canvas is not dragged off. The procession departs in silence, leaving you to wonder.

How much time you spend in this position you do not know, but your hands are numb, moving your fingers is already unpleasant. At some point, you laugh under your breath. To sacrifice you as a bride to some monster at the bottom of the sea. Ha! They just want to get rid of you because of your ability to control shadows. Even if there are gifted people like you among the residents, their abilities are clearly less dangerous to others.

A rustle is heard somewhere behind. Your whole body tenses up, you try to freeze so as not to show signs of life, it’s even scary to breathe. It could be anything… or anyone.

“How young you are, child." You hear, and you can’t understand what’s going on. It is so unusual for you now to hear human speech that it seems almost a hallucination, but no less terrible. A cool hand touches your chin under the canvas. Something or someone clicks their tongue. “White dress and… moving shadows. They decided to give you to me as a sacrificial bride, yes, Y/N?"

In response, silence. You are afraid to answer. Where does this something or someone know your name? They tear off the canvas from your head and raise your head, holding it by the chin. What appears before your eyes is not a monster, as you have been described.

This is a man about thirty years old with slick, black hair almost to the waist. His skin is pale, slightly greyish, his cheeks are slightly sunken. Dark gray eyes seem to look into the very soul. You are almost paralyzed with fear. It's not what you expected to see before your eyes. You swallow nervously.

"Are you scared, child?" the man grins, and your heart is already ready to go to the heels. You yourself do not understand whether you are scared or very much surprised by what you see. Your wrists are free from ropes. The man looks at his wrists and frowns a little. They're a little rubbed, but it'll pass. To your silent question, the brunette tilts his head slightly to one side.

“Since you are my sacrificial bride, consider me your future husband. Call me Lovecraft. I am that Great Old One you were given to."

And the last time you could be seen on the cliff.

Howard prefers to live away from people, spending most of his time relaxing underwater. You live in his house, learning to take complete control over your shadows, which learn to feel you too.

So the years go by. You are no longer a sixteen-year-old girl, you are a young woman just over twenty-five. Lovecraft does not change at all outwardly, as if he is not really a person, and you begin to catch yourself thinking about this more and more often. If earlier you would have reacted with skepticism to what you heard on the cliff on that fateful night, now you have no doubt that Howard Lovecraft is the Great Old One.

Late at night, when he didn't come back to the house after a while, you, scared to hell, rushed to find him.

You call out to him, look around everywhere, check all the woods, forests nearby, until your feet bring you to that very cliff. Lovecraft is standing there on the very edge, looking at the shining full moon, the reflection on the water of which gives the sea a mystical glow.

"Master Lovecraft!" Your eyes are filling with tears. He's been so kind to you all this time, teaching you new things. And all he asks in return for this is your loyalty to him, explaining that this is the fate of the bride. You have also had nights of love in which Howard is gentle to you, even very much.

The man slowly turns to you. It's so beautiful in the moonlight. His thoughtful gaze, in which one can see almost the hardships of the entire universe, is filled with increasing anger for the first time. But Howard is still reserved, even smiling a little at you when you run up to him. You throw yourself into his arms, nuzzle his solar plexus. The cool palm of the Great Old One rests on the top of your head. The wind ruffles his black hair.

"Y/N, there's something I'd like to discuss with you." The man is serious. The question he wants to raise is important. He looks at you in silence for a while before deciding to speak. "I want you to marry me. You will be my wife, and I will accept no other answer."

Your heart freezes. You look at your master Lovecraft, blushing deeply. He confronts you with the fact that you have no other choice but to become his wife. And for some reason, you don't mind at all. However, Lovecraft can also be understood. You sleep together, live in the same house, spend time together. A man is too attached to you to let you go to someone else. On top of everything else, you were named his sacrificial bride, which he also takes extremely seriously. However, with some amendments. You're not his first sacrificial bride, but you're the first one he hasn't killed.

"I agree." You smile, looking at Howard, as if mesmerized. He is so beautiful when the moonlight falls on him.

Lovecraft does not expect another answer, he knows that you will not answer in any other way. His cool hand strokes your cheek, goes under your chin and lifts your head. His dark gray eyes look into yours as he leans closer; your lips are separated by a miserable couple of centimeters. Howard kisses you gently, dryly, chaste, when you close your eyes, wanting to remember this moment.

"I will never let you leave me, Y/N," the man whispers, gently pulling away. You're so cute when your eyelashes flutter. You slowly open your eyes and gently smile at your new husband. You've become so attached to him over the past few years that you don't know what it's like to be alone. He treated you like a human being, not like a damned one.

Your warm hand touches his slightly sunken cheek, and Howard clings to the warmth like a lost cat who can't find his way home and asks for love from passers-by. He likes your touch, Lovecraft wants it to last as long as possible.

"I give you my word that I will never leave you alone…" You hesitate a little before continuing with a slight tremor in your voice and a blush on your cheeks: "my dear Lovecraft."

A smile suits him very well. It's a rare emotion you've ever seen. Usually Howard is always calm to the point of trembling, which is scary. At first, you were very afraid of this, because you didn't know what to expect from such a calm person. But now you're ready for anything, it's in your eyes, and Howard likes it.

He holds you in his arms, slowly covers your face with kisses. And this is the Great Old One, the very being before whom they shudder, whose appearance they are afraid of, because this does not bode well. You know him quite differently.

You are standing on the cliff where your fateful meeting took place a few years ago, looking at a small town in the distance. You're restless. Something has to happen. But it's not worrying about the worst. This feeling is more like waiting for something.

A huge wave is moving towards the city. No one will be left alive. You don't doubt it at all, but you don't care. The whole town agreed that it was you who should be left as a victim to Lovecraft, which means that no one deserves a chance to survive. Those houses that are closest to the shore are demolished first. The part of you that still retains at least some amount of compassion for those who live in the city wants to stop the man. However, his look alone makes it clear: he will not forgive the city that gave an innocent child as a sacrifice so that the Great Old One would leave everyone alone and not interfere with the sailors.

"This is my wedding gift to you, my love. They sacrificed you to save their own lives, and now they will lose them." People are fleeing from their homes in panic. There are screams, crying pleas for an end to this madness.

An ominous silence reigns. Neither voices nor cries of pets are heard anymore. I can't hear anything else. The sea is calm again, as if nothing had happened. You are looking at all the horror that the elements have created literally before your eyes. It was as if the city really did not exist. Those houses that remained intact are now abandoned. You have nothing to do with the ghostly place anymore. And you, surprisingly, feel a sense of relief. You are free and free to go wherever you want as long as Howard is with you.

Picking you up in his arms, Lovecraft walks with you along the path away from the cliff. The path you keep is back to the house where you live. Already in the house on a big bed, a man looks at you, admires you, as he has always done for several years. And if before, until you turn twenty, he did not dare to touch you in any other way than in a fatherly way, now nothing prevents you from loving each other as husband and wife.

"We need to set some rules in our lives," Lovecraft gently kisses you on the cheek. He's determined in what he's going to say. "From now on, I will be absolutely faithful to you, listen to your words, I will be your support in everything, but I expect the same from you."

You listen to him carefully, not daring to interrupt while the man takes off your clothes. This is your first time as husband and wife, so out of nowhere there is a slight shyness and awkwardness.

"I give my word that I will be faithful, I will listen to your opinion and I will support you in everything. You mean too much to me in this life for me to betray you," you pause before saying what is bursting out. "And it's not that those people gave me to you as a sacrificial bride. I won't betray you because I don't want to."

You touch his cool cheek with your hand, look into his eyes deeply, choosing the words you want to say in response to the question about your feelings for Howard. Initially, you had a completely different spectrum for him. When you first met Lovecraft, as his sacrificial bride, you were a little afraid of him, completely not knowing what to expect from him. And it was only after living with him for a long time that you began to understand that you loved him for his way of thinking, for his lack of emotion, for his manner of speech, even though it was strange, for calmness, education, awareness and responsibility.

Your shadows never liked noisy people, they were afraid of them. Next to Lovecraft, you found what you wanted. Home, love and a sense of security.

"I also find your ability quite charming. My shadows don't stand anywhere near." You nod, looking at how Howard undresses in front of you. A snow-white shirt fits neatly on the back of a chair nearby. A man's trousers remain on when he starts stroking and caressing your body, touching you as if in a gesture of acquaintance.

You pull him to you for a kiss, feeling a little cool and slippery tentacles begin to wrap around your body. One grabs gently by the wrists and presses them to the bed, the other two stroke the hips, sometimes wrapping around them. Howard drops kisses on your neck while his tentacles rush to touch your body wherever they can. His eyes are more like two Abysses than something human, but that doesn't scare you.

You gasp loudly every time the suckers on the tentacles leave reddish traces in the form of circles, some of them are very bright; they will definitely linger on your body for a couple of days.

"What do you feel now?" The man's voice is threefold, gives off a slight echo, and in principle it already sounds creepy, but he does not see fear in your eyes under it. Lovecraft sees genuine adoration in his direction, and this surprises him a little. "Do I disgust you?"

"No, not at all." You shake your head, feeling slightly embarrassed. You're pouting a little, subtly hinting that the man is still wearing his trousers. "Your tentacles. They are cool, a little slippery, move as if they have their own will and consciousness. But… I like it. I love you, Howard, and I will love you no matter what. After all, I am also not deprived of a small feature."

You giggle softly and let your shadows do whatever they want. They get to Lovecraft's trousers without any delay, take the form of women's palms and hurry to rid him first of the belt, and then of the unnecessary detail of clothing. The man only chuckles softly at this. His new wife is so sweet and charming when she tries to help him.

Howard again clings to your lips with his, kisses deeply, with tenderness and desire, listening to the muffled moans. This is the first time he uses his tentacles, but you are clearly not afraid of them, and he is incredibly happy about it. You accept him as he is. This is more than enough for him to experience a strange feeling inside, which bubbles like champagne, filling him with strange energy and the desire to joke and laugh stupidly. Is this… happiness?..

You both dissolve in love for each other, exchanging mutual caresses and kisses. You touch Lovecraft with your shadows, feeling everything they feel, even if it's not the same as your own hands. A man touches your chest with his cool hand, which causes a shiver down your spine. You let out a soft moan when Howard's lips descend first on one nipple, then on the second, paying attention to the previous one with a small tentacle.

You squirm under the strong but gentle grip of the tentacles of the Great Old One, breathing heavily, but asking only for one thing: that Lovecraft does not stop. The man looks furtively at the shadows and grins:

"Your shadows look agitated. Is it because of me or understanding what will happen next?"

"Both," you honestly admit, looking at your new husband with completely black eyes. This is the peculiarity of using the ability to control your own shadows. That's another reason they called you a monster.

While the shadows caress Lovecraft, he spreads your legs with his tentacles. They move smoothly in a spiral up and down, paying special attention to the inside. Your body is trembling with impatience and unusual sensations. They may well become your habit. And you understand why the body reacts like that.

Touching something unknown, unseen before. The same effect is produced by touching your shadows to someone. A person can lose his mind from the pleasure that the touch of shadows brings, or from fear. Your moans caress Howard's ears as he continues to deftly and effortlessly manipulate his tentacles, getting a little lost in the sensations from the touch of shadows. This is the first time he feels them, and it gives him goosebumps. Howard exhales convulsively through clenched teeth.

The tentacle that caresses your left thigh stretches out a little, and its tip touches your crotch. You arch in the back, being exposed to the kisses of the Great Old One, which only enhances the feeling of the tentacle touching the sensitive bundle of nerves. The tentacle moves along with small amplitudes up and down, then large, touching the folds and teasing the entrance to the womb. You moan uncontrollably, almost going crazy from what you feel, and kisses with glimpses of light bites add fuel to the fire.

Howard stretches his neck to be able to cover your body with kisses, suppressing his moans when he feels more tangible touches of shadows on his body. They stroke his shoulders, neck, chest, torso and climb lower.

"You are gorgeous, my love," the man whispers close to your skin, breathing heavily. And yet he breaks into a low, quiet moan when he feels the shadows squeezing his bulging penis. Lovecraft's heart is pounding in his chest like mad. The man is filled with passion and love for you under him.

He tentatively penetrates the tip of another tentacle inside, while he continues to attack the clitoris with the tip of another, making you almost scream. Your body is straining, then relaxing. You're begging Lovecraft to take you, whimpering with desire and lust. Leaving a short kiss on your eyebrow, the man kisses you on the lips when the tentacle penetrates inside in one smooth, slow motion.

The tentacle twitches in your pussy, touches all the most sensitive areas inside while it moves. Howard pulls away from your lips, listening to loud moans fill the room. He moans uncontrollably himself, feeling through the tentacle how tight it is inside you, how wet and warm it is.

And the thrill is added by your shadows, over which you lose control. They themselves move through his body and tentacles as they want. The room is filled with vulgar squelching, your moans and guttural male growling when the Great Old One increases the speed of the tentacle movement inside you.

You scream his name in outright ecstasy, almost losing all connection with reality. You're stuffy, hot. You feel good.

"I love you, Y/N. I will love you until the end of time and even after," Howard growls, looming over you. He wants to remember this moment of love that you share as spouses. How beautiful is his sacrificial bride, now his wife. You moan, whimper and whine from the sensations, fidgeting and asking not to stop. You are close to the climax, and when you reach it, the body only becomes more sensitive. All the caresses of the tentacles on your body are felt more clearly, the pussy is squeezed around the tentacle inside. The bundle of nerves is swollen and now susceptible to even a fleeting touch, but Howard continues to move the tentacle inside you, increasing the pace, almost going crazy from the intoxicating touches of your shadows, whose caresses are becoming more insistent.

After the second climax, your mind is clouded. All you can say is your husband's name. Your moans are now screams of pleasure. The third orgasm is coming, however, Lovecraft is also very close. You feel it with your shadows.

"Come on, love, let's do it together," his speech falters when Howard covers your body with kisses again, licking salty sweat. After the deafening groan of the two, silence reigns, which seems as uncomfortable as possible. Your breath is whistling, you're trying to catch your breath when the tentacle leaves your body. My vision is blurry and a little double, but my body feels so light, like someone else's. You smile wearily at your spouse when he gently kisses you on the cheek.

There are no more tentacles; there are only his big palms with long, thin fingers that take your weakened body and carry it to the cool bathroom. There, Howard helps stop the blood flowing from your nose — a side effect of controlling your shadows, which you are used to.

"I love you, Howard," you wheeze and smile wearily. Lovecraft gently takes your palm in his, brings it to his lips and kisses each finger.

"You're so beautiful now, Y/N. My Y/N," the man kisses your palm, calming all your feelings.

Thank you, my Queen. Thank you for your love.

#my writing #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #smut #lovecraft x reader #bsd lovecraft #lovecraft bsd #lovecraft smut #hp lovecraft

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caffeinetheif · 1 year

Note

I absolutely NEED you to write a head cannon about the demon bros meeting a black reader with long box braids I wanna know how they'd react or how'd they style them😭

Please and thank you also friendly reminder to take some time off for your mental health and know that your doing an AWESOME job, I'm proud of you!<3

Thank you so much for putting your faith in me to write this request <3. As a white woman, I want to make sure that I'm correctly depicting the styles, so I've been doing some research. I had a lot of fun just looking at different ways people style their box braids!

ALSO If I word anything incorrectly or make mistakes, please tell me so I can fix it!

The Brothers' Reaction to a Black MC with Box Braids Black GN!MC No content warnings for this one!

Lucifer

When you first meet Lucifer, he would definitely be curious about your braids. He wouldn't make a big deal out of it and honestly may just see it as another human custom that's not as prevailent in the Devildom.

As your relationship with him develops, he may show favoritism towards the classic long box braids. The way the braids sway with your every step has him mesmerized.

I think he would complement every style you wear your braids in, but he is a man who loves his classics after all.

Mammon

Mams would be more vocal about his curiousity. He bombards you with questions like: "How long do they take?" "Do you braid them yourself?" (If the answer is no, that you pay someone to braid your hair for you, 9 times out of 10 he's going to ask how much it costs.)

I think he'd be all over a mixed color box braid, especially if you have yellows and golds mixed in! He's totally not biased towards those colors, what are you talking about? Another style I think he would like is yarn braids, once again in yellows and golds.

Leviathan

He would also be very quiet at first. Not because he doesn't like them, but because he's socially awkward and doesn't want to come off as insensitive. He does some research and then comes to you with questions. Please be patient with him, he's anxious.

I think he'd like it if you style your hair in jumbo box braids and lay your edges too. The laid edges remind him of waves (which complement his roll as Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy, but he won't tell you that).

Take him to an appointment to get your hair done or let him join you if you do it yourself. He will be eager to help in any way (if you want him to), but he gets distracted by the techniques used to braid your hair.

Satan

He would be interested in the history of the different braids, even if they aren't styles you usually wear. Like Lucifer, he would enjoy seeing how your hair moves with you as you walk. He won't admit to staring though.

As for his favorite style of box braids, I think he'd show favoritism towards box braids with curly or wavy ends.

He would be one of the most observent if you try something different. Different edge laying product? He will mention it. Go see a new braider? Somehow he is able to differentiate between them.

Asmodeus

Asmo is obsessed with your braids. He wants to know everything including techniques, history, different styles, and other braid styles too. He insists he sits in and watches your hair get braided.

He would love the knotless braids with beads. He would practically beg to pick out beads for your hair (expect there to be multiple beads with different heart styles). If you aren't into beaded styles, I think he would also like if you style your hair in a half up bun or half up space buns!

At some point in your relationship he will drop hints that he wants to learn how to braid. He will be ecstatic if you teach him.

Beelzebub

He just doesn't really notice at first? I wouldn't say he doesn't care, he cares because your hair style is what makes you unique in his eyes. He just sees it as another human characteristic.

Out of the different styles, I think he would prefer the large box braid style. He thinks it frames your face very well.

I can't see him being very involved with your hair if that makes sense. He's chill, "you do you and I'll love you regardless" kind of vibes

Belphegor

Much like his twin, he doesn't really focus on it. However, I think the further your relationship grows with him the more he'll take notice of your different hair styles.

He finds the bohemian box braid style the most visually appealing. He loves the variety that is exentuated in the style. I think he'd also love if you accessorize with hair scarves or bandanas (bonus points if its his color).

I think he'd compliment on each different style you try, but that one will be at the top of the list if you ask him what style you should do next.

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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years

Note

Whats your favorite lore in the fic thats not likely to ever come up?

I'm picturing this fic as an animated series in my head and there are certain visual elements I can only sort of work into the text (because a veiwer of an anime would notice but someone living in-universe would not) but:

-Anubis and the other Gods are always portrayed with only one side visible to the viewer, and flat/without shading, like they're hieroglyphics. At least until they decide to affect the Material plane and suddenly they become much better rendered and 3-Dimensional.

-Funny Bunny is animated relative to Pegasus *exactly* the same way Rodger Rabbit is relative to Detective Valentine.

-It's mentioned a bit but Ammit is constantly shape-shifting which parts of her are Lioness, crocodile, or hippopotamus. Anubis and Thoth both Shift from Dog/Bird to Human-With-Animal-Head formats as needed for DRAMA. [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS] who also has appeared on page changes sizes based on how much trouble they think their Votary is in.

-TK is animated at a higher frame rate than everyone else, because he's had 5,000 years of practice being a ghost, and Yami is animated at a lower frame rate than everyone else for a while while he learns. Both of them ignore conservation of mass and shape when they're ghosts, mostly manifesting in "wearing what their host is, but longer/floatier and trailing off into aesthetically pleasing shapes, rather than anything fabric would realistically do" and "Floating along with minimal effort like they're kites being dragged along by the Items."

-Yugi literally has to take two steps for every one of Seto's.

-Both Shadis have extremely symmetrical faces. Like. Uncannily symmetrical. But they don't have the same face, because each is a mirror image of the half a face they grew back from.

-People do the Himuro Arakawa thing where they turn into minimalist blobs when something stupid happens, and the JJBA thing where their faces suddenly over-render when the situation gets serious.

-Everyone else has Black pupils but Bakura's are always extremely dark blue-green because even in normal lighting his tapetum lucidum are always a bit visible.

-Odion's face markings are white/pale pink because they're the result of ritual scarification (like Marik's back markings), not tattoos. Even though they're in Hawai'i right now, Marik always keeps his back and shoulders covered, and Odion always keeps his arms, legs and upper back covered as well.

-All three Ishtar siblings have substantial crimp to their hair. Odion and Ishizu braid theirs- Odion has thicker braids with beaded caps at the ends and Ishizu has thinner ones with spiraled ends. Marik wears his hair in twists most of the time.

-Tristan's hair looks like a thicker, brunette version of TinTin's from the 3-D animated movie. Téa has a Phyrne Fisher 1920's bob. Joey has somehow developed a reverse mullet in much the same way one develops a septic infection. Bakura has what the kids are calling a "Wolf Cut" but it's really a "tried to trim the split ends and bangs out of his face in the bathroom mirror at 3 AM with kitchen scissors and NO instructions" cut.

-Yugi's hair is straight-up anime bullshit where I've decided that humans have mutated a new type of stiff guard hair follicle like you find on bears and boars. It's very stiff but smooth and weirdly pettable.

-I don't know how this deviated into hairstyles but there you go.

#TPOFATGIF #The Power Of Friendship (And This Gun I Found!)#Yugioh #Yugioh fanfic

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earth2rin · 2 years

Text

SHITTY TAMAKI

bakugo katsuki x support!femreader

fluff, bakugo being bakugo, support course reader :)

i have been thinking about this for a LONG time but i suck at writing so it’s a little ficlet for you guys lol

also just pretend hatsume is a year older LOL

bakugo was fuming. he had just gotten his gauntlets fixed from the last round of training with the big 3 (tamaki had used his giant octopus arm to smash his gauntlets causing utter destruction to the devices.) and here goes stupid tamaki, once again, using his octo-arms to smoosh the damn things. bakugo quickly ended the battle by lunging on the poor boy and pinning him down to the ground.

and now he was on his way to the support class to ask hatsume to fix his shit. he flings the door open and his eyes search and search for hatsume.

instead he sees you. a girl with a long braid and in a welding mask.

“where the hell is hatsume?” he grumbles. you look over to him, lift the mask up and give him a gentle smile that made him weak in the knees.

“im sorry, what was that you said?” as you tilt your head to the side, your eyes so wide he swore he could see his own reflection in them.

his throat runs try, he clears it and replies, “where’s that pink-headed freak?” he says much more clearly.

you chuckle and turn to look at the clock behind you. “her and maijime-sensei went to go showcase some of her support items. she has to go big since this is her last year here at u-a. they should be back around 3.”

“so then who are you?” he blurts and immediately regrets it but you let out a hearty laugh and his nerves ease.

“dont you know? why im only hatsumes protege.” you say wiggling your eyebrows. he lifts a brow and then rolls his eyes and you can’t help the smile on your face.

what an odd girl he thinks and shakes his head.

“did you need something?” you query tilting your head to the side.

he needed you to stop looking at him with those damn puppy eyes or else he’d be nothing more than a puddle soon.

he sighs and places his gauntlets in front of you. “shitty tamaki ruined the damn things.” he says as he rubs his temples. you nod at him and inspect the damage.

the way your thick brows furrow and plush pink lips turn down in a frown has his stomach doing somersaults.

“yeah these things are done for, i’m gonna have to make a new pair. i can’t believe you guys smashed industrial grade steel.” you chuckle as you grab a pad of paper and begin sketching the new design of his gauntlets.

he watches you scribble on the piece of paper over your shoulder, uncharacteristically quiet, awestruck by the way your face contorts in different expressions as your brain process things.

he was also quite confused at the fact of how he had never seen you before. surely he had to have seen you at one point. after all you were in the support class and there had only been a handful of teenagers in said class. he never saw you in the hallways either, nor cafeteria, so how the hell have you managed to sneak by all this time? bakugo was no good at names but he sure can remember a face after seeing it once, but he could not recall yours.

“so, the ones i just drew are a little different from your old ones. first, these ones are the same metal but a lot thicker, id like to see how these hold up about a month from now if you don’t mind. i also got rid of the handles because let’s be honest, those were just for decoration, there really was no need for those, they were just a hinderance. i also-“

yada yada yada was all that bakugo heard. he was absolutely enamored by you. the way you’d nibble your glossy lips while concentrating, the way your nose would scrunch when you changed your mind, the way your beautiful hair framed your face perfectly. gosh were you a sight to see.

“so whaddya think about that?” you smile at him catching him off guard.

he stumbles and straightens up. “um yeah that sounds good or whatever. whatever it takes to beat that damn food eating freak.” you laugh and nod, telling bakugo he can be on his way now.

he couldn’t wait to pick up his gauntlets when they were ready. only because he needed the damn things, certainly not because he wanted to see you again.

#bakugo katuski #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #support course reader #soft and fluffy #so sweet #i want to make it longer but idk #brainrot #like fr #ive thought about this for awhile

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wheneclipsefalls · 4 months

Note

I'm so excited for your omega neteyam x 4 alphas story!! Is there anything more you can /want to tell us about it?

oops I dropped something ;)

Sneak Peek (unedited)

Omega Neteyam x 4 Alpha Males soft!dark

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, kidnapping

“Still waiting on that name, yawntutsyip.” Ritstxe reminds him.

A scowl is all the alpha receives before Neteyam is once more attempting to subtly shield his face from view.

“Quite the stubborn one.” Ranau’s deep voice startles him sightly.

“Hm, I don’t mind doing a little deciphering.” Yeezlin reaches forward and with one yank has the omega’s songchord detached from the tewng strap.

Neteyam lashes out in a flurry. Nails swiping and teeth barred, it takes a firm bicep over his chest to pull him back into place. Neteyam struggles under the weight. His stomach sinks as he continues to kick his feet and limbs across the dirt and is only met with an unbreakable hold that Ranau doesn’t even bother to shift.

Ranau’s chest rumbles against his back, soothing waves run over the omega’s body.

Neteyam can already feel the beginning of tears forming as he desperately attempts to resist the alpha’s comforting presence.

Yeezlin sits back and carefully runs the beaded piece between his fingers. That calculating gaze inspects every token of Neteyam’s life like a puzzle piece just waiting to be put into the bigger picture.

The omega’s tail thrashes so violently against the floor that Neyake takes the liberty of winding it around his forearm to keep it in place.

“Kehe! Demon return it to me or I swear on my father’s life-”

“Who is…?” Yeezlin drawls, eyes glimmering as with mischief.

“My gut says you already know, brother.” Ritstxe comments before Neteyam has a chance.

Yeezlin grins, twirls the songchord around a finger mindlessly.

“Rumor has it that none other than Toruk Makto has a firstborn omega son. They fail, however to mention, your beauty.” Yeezlin purrs, tucking one braid behind Neteyam’s pinned ear.

There is a rumble of agreement and slight surprise but all Neteyam can focus on his Yeezlin’s slim frame prowling closer. His fingers dig into Ranau’s arm for release when the other alpha gently swipes a thumb over his bottom lip.

“Neteyam.” Yeezlin breathes it like a song, seductive and enticing.

Neteyam clamps down his jaw hard. Unfortunately, it’s not fast enough as the alpha yanks his hand back and wags a finger at him.

“Someone needs to get your biting under control.” Yeezlin chastises, but the mood is nothing but positive as the news settles over the group.

“I was under the impression that the omega prince was locked away. Such a pretty jewel kept under close watch.” Neyake’s voice is hardly more than a satisfied purr that blows shivers down his spine.

He’s caught between plans of deception and threatening. From the delighted reaction the alpha’s give at the news, he guesses that his influential family ties do nothing to ward them off.

Who are these men that not only possess no fear of Toruk Makto but also deliberately challenge him so casually?

A snippet meant for the upcoming spicy fic based on this request

Comment below or message me if you would like to be tagged when the full fic comes out <3

#omega neteyam #sub neteyam #softdark #avatar way of water #avatar smut #avatar wow #avatar fanfiction #omegaverse #dad jake sully #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam sully smut #avatar neteyam #neteyam avatar #fivesome male x male

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odessa-castle · 3 months

Note

HOW is your writing so good??? Did you make a pact for unspeakable power??? (That joke might be in poor taste). Anyway Im just trying to say I really love Nothing Like The Sun and greatly appreciate you writing and sharing it. Although I cannot wait to read more, please take your time resting/recharging, especially after all this amazing writing!

My questions:

I was wondering how you’d describe Branwyn. Asking cus I love her and want to attempt drawing her. Also just any other facts about her you wish to share!

I’m also wondering if you’re willing to point out another Shakespeare reference in your fic. Im intrigued but not well read enough to spot them lol.

Oh my gosh, thank you for all your kind words! And I'd be over the moon if you decided to draw Branwyn, so let me describe her as best I can!

Branwyn is a gold dwarf -- I haven't pinned down her exact age, but she's in whatever the dwarven equivalent of early/mid-forties would be. Let me break the rest of this into bullets so it's not a total wall of text (and so I can put all this behind a cut):

Branwyn has tannish-golden skin with warm undertones, dark brown eyes with an epicanthal fold, and a broad, flat chin.

Branwyn has thick brownish-black hair -- her hair would have a bit of a wave to it, but she wears it long enough that the curl pattern's been stretched out quite a lot. She usually wears her hair in a single long braid, reaching about midway down her back. She doesn't have bangs, but shorter strands of her hair do tend to escape her braid and frame her face.

She has high cheekbones, a wideish nose with a relatively flat bridge (although it's been broken more than once), and her lower lip's noticeably fuller than her upper one.

She has plenty of scars. I described a few in chapter 11 (the vicious gnarled scar across her nose and cheek; the shining band of skin around her neck, like a burn that never quite healed right), but those aren't the only ones. She's spent most of her adult life as a mercenary, after all.

Build-wise, Branwyn is about as stocky and muscular as you'd expect a dwarven fighter to be, lol. She's broad rather than curvy. She's usually in her Flaming Fist uniform/armor when she's speaking with Wyll -- when she's out of uniform, she's probably just sticking to a simple shirt and trousers.

idk what the queer scene looks like in Faerun, but Bran is a butch, full-stop. It's very sexy of her.

Some other tidbits about Branwyn:

Bran wears her hair long as a fuck-you to Thay. In Thay, shorter hair generally means higher social status, and the most powerful Red Wizards shave their heads bald so you can see all their tattoos. Slaves, in contrast, are forbidden from cutting their hair. After Ulder helped Bran escape, she decided to keep her hair long, because she didn't want to end up associating short hair with freedom and bring that piece of Thay back with her.

Branwyn has been married twice (and divorced twice). Her most recent marriage took place frankly too soon after she joined the Fist -- she and her wife stayed together a while, though, and probably should have split up sooner than they did. Wyll was in his preteens while this was going down; he worried about her, but he didn't really know what to do, and he felt bad about that (even though, like, he was a kid, of course he doesn't know how to deal with these things).

Bran loves Wyll dearly, but she's also very mindful of the hierarchies at play between them. Ulder has always been Branwyn's commanding officer, and she doesn't think it's her place to openly challenge or confront him about how he treats his son, or to act as a parental figure to Wyll in Ulder's stead. It's part of why she's so insistent about calling Wyll "milord" -- she's trying to remind Wyll that he needs to be mindful of the social expectations at play. Ultimately, I think their relationship can best be described as a lord and retainer type of deal -- a prince and his exasperated but fond knight/bodyguard -- until the end of Part One, when Bran finally says "fuck protocol" and helps Wyll escape from Baldur's Gate.

Bran's got a huge soft spot for kids. She swears like a sailor, though, so she has to check herself around them a lot.

As for your second question, a lot of the Shakespeare references are more structural than direct! Like, you know, a messenger rushing in at the wrong moment to deliver news of an impending catastrophe, and creating a tragedy of timing. One of my personal favorites, though, is the little nod to the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet in the scene where Cazador forces Astarion to expose himself to the sun. What light through yonder window breaks indeed -- although it's anything but soft.

(Yes, I know what “but soft!” means in the context of that line, but let me make dumb jokes.)

#the ask and the answer #loonyoz #nothing like the sun

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sweetadonisbutbetter · 7 months

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Ur so pretty (WIP)

UPDATE AS OF 4/2/24: IF UR READING THIS BUT HAVENT SEEN THE WHOLE FIC HERE IT IS- it is also on AO3 on the same name. Thank you!!

A/N: hiiI!!! just want to note a few things before you proceed- this is meant to be read as a wlw. Tav isn't described necessarily so it can be read as a gn tav or even a male. but I wrote this with the intention of Tav being femme presenting. I do try to avoid using "he said/she said/they said" so if you see that please tell me so I can fix that since I do want this to be as gn as possible in case you don't imagine a femme Tav. also tav's gender really isn't relevant to what I am planning for the later part, same goes for tav's race.

tav is also meant to be a selunite, but I don't know a whole lot about it, I am actively reading a wiki on it but again, can't make everything lore accurate lolol. hopefully I was able to portray the character correctly! another thing to note is that this is the inbetween of her first romance scene but not in act 2 (aka post tiefling party). so at this point tav and shadowheart kissed. anything else that needs to be adressed i cannot possibly think of so with that, enjoy!!

Upon waking up, you already felt that it was going to be a long day, one that was longer than usual. The sores from numerous fights and hours of walking were ever present from the moment you opened your eyes; the feeling of the Astarion’s fangs wringing your neck numb. You mentally check off the numerous problems before you get out of your tent and set off for the day. Upon leaving the dimly lit tent, you were blinded slightly by the morning light. The smell of breakfast filled the air as idle chatter continued. You take a moment to look at your companions. Gale was the one cooking, making idle chatter with Wyll and Karlach, the latter who was most likely the one who started the fire. Lae’zel was by herself, sharpening one of her many swords. Astarion emerges from his tent, also having just woken up. You continue to scan the camp looking for someone in particular.

‘No sign of her…’ You think to yourself, pouting slightly. From the corner of your eyes, you see Astarion approaching you. Sighing, you can already tell it was going to be a long day.

“Glad to see you didn’t die last night.” He greets with a smirk. You look at him, already feeling the regret of letting him feed and an oncoming headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping it will relieve some tension.

“Well if someone didn’t take any more than he should have, I wouldn’t have passed out.” You quip, to which Astarion lets out a laugh.

“I did not take any more than I normally do. You just lost a lot of blood yesterday.” He says as he crosses his arms and shifts to the side. You look at him blankly for a moment, thinking if it would be worth it to put a stake in his heart. Listing the pros and cons, it seems that keeping him alive has more pros shockingly. Sighing once more, which was something that happened a lot when Astarion was around, you cast lesser restoration and begin to walk towards Gale, Karlach, and Wyll. However, before you can even approach the trio, you see Shadowheart emerge from her tent.

Your heart skips a beat as you look at her from afar. From the moment you had seen her while on the nautiloid, you had some sort of feelings stirring for her. Just a glance at her tells you how much of a beauty she is. The way her onyx hair framed her face, her braid that swished and would often rest on her shoulders, and the soft makeup that furthers her beauty in a way that feels almost godlike. Not to mention her eyes. The soft hazel green stood out with her darker eyeshadow, luring in the very person who looked into them. However, it wasn’t just her physical beauty that lured you in, it was the subtle beauty that seemingly showed when she wasn’t paying attention. The soft smile that creeps up her face when you were swarmed by children at the grove, or how she plays with Scratch when she thinks no one is paying attention. You would often find yourself looking forward to fights, just to get injured so she could heal you, watching how her hands would tenderly cover the wound. In essence, her mannerisms, voice, and beauty have bewitched you, terribly. Often you were left lying awake late at night, thinking back on any conversation or memories you have of her.

Since the tiefling party a few nights ago, you have had numerous things to think of. Truthfully, you were elated that you had agreed to a drink with her, since in your mind it showed that she had a fraction of attraction towards you. While it was hard to tell how she truly felt since she was sharran and they were sworn to secrecy; you did not need words to know that she enjoyed the moment you two shared. The kiss you two shared. The morning after you two had talked about it, and she agreed that there was indeed something between the two of you. However, soon after she began to withdraw herself from you. She would avoid being alone with you, cut the conversation short, and even volunteer to stay behind at camp. It hurt to see her detach herself from any social interaction with you. You even knew that she was avoiding only you, catching glimpses of her talking to the others. However, you found it better to give her her space, something that she appreciated in the past, though it was showing to be harder than you wanted it to be.

“You know, it is rude to stare.” A voice cuts you out of your train of thought. Blinking, you look at the voice and see that it is Astarion. Confused as to what he is talking about, you give him a look. He rolls his eyes and smacks his teeth. “You have been staring at Shadowheart’s tent for a good while, my friend. A bit too long, might I add.”

Quietly, you let out an ‘oh’ before you turn towards your tent. You decide to start getting ready for the day, no longer hungry. Stripping your camp wear and donning your armor, you mentally summon all your courage so you can ask Shadowheart to accompany you, Gale, and Karlach. Finishing the knot of your boots, you equip your weapons and leave your tent, the blinding rays of the sun stinging your eyes for a brief moment.

‘Moonmadein please guide me.’ You utter in your thoughts before you make your way to Gale and Karlach. Even though you were nowhere near them, Karalach seemed to notice you were heading their way. Turning her head from her conversation with Gale, she makes eye contact with you. Her face seemingly lights up as small flames rise out of her skin.

“Mornin’ soldier!” She hollers. Gale says something to her in a quiet tone, one that you can’t hear. Whatever he told her caused the flames on her to diminish. Looking back at you, she lets out a slightly nervous chuckle and says, “Sorry about that. Just excited to get on the road again.”

“No worries, and good morning to you Karlach. You too Gale.” You reassure Karlach quickly before you greet the wizard. Gale smiles in return and greets a quick ‘morning’ before leaving, presumably to get his stuff for the road. You look back to Karlach and ask, “Have you seen Shadowheart?”

“Oh, I think I saw she went with Scratch into the woods,” Karlach says, her mood seemingly more down. She hesitates for a moment, before asking “Why?”

“I just want to see if she is us on the road. It has been a bit since she left camp.” You explain, hoping that you weren't evident in your real reason for talking to her. Truthfully you weren’t telling a full lie, you did want to know if she wanted to leave camp for a while. You also just wanted a moment alone with her, in case she didn’t want to go. However before anything else could be said, the bushes rustled slightly. You and Karlach turn to the noise, however, you don’t need to go and investigate since Scratch jumps from the bushes and runs toward you. He jumps onto your chest, tackling you to the ground before he starts to lick at your face. Laughing at the slightly ticklish feeling, you try to move him off of you, not too keen on smelling like dog breath or even having slobber on you. Thankfully he gets off with ease and goes to bother you someone else. Still chuckling, you get up from the ground, with the help of Karlach who is laughing with you. The rustling of leaves happens once more, catching your attention once more. This time it was Shadowheart who emerged from the woods. You briefly make eye contact with her, your heart skips a beat and you shift to move towards her. Though it seemed she noticed you moving, since she looked away first and headed back to her tent, not even uttering a greeting or looking back. Your shoulders sag, clearly dejected at her avoidance. ‘I can’t be like this all day. We have to move forward.’ You think to yourself, quickly shaking the feeling and standing up straighter, putting on the front that you were not bothered by it.

“It seems like she has no intent on leaving today. I suppose we could drag Astarion with us.” You jest lightly to Karlach. Wanting to leave sooner, you readjust your pack and look for Astarion. Thankfully, he seemed to have read your mind and was already in his gear. You look for Gale briefly and see that he is equally as ready. With a nod, the four of you leave camp and begin the day.

#shadowheart x reader #Shadowheart x tav #my head has been spinning with bg3 fanfic ideas #im going crazy #it's late and i am still up #actually wrote this instead of sleeping #tav is down bad for shadowheart #shadowheart is bad at feelings

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wild-karrde · 1 year

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In Command - Part 12

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: HELLO I AM BACK! The Bolts series kind of took over my brain, but I HAVE RETURNED! This chapter took a LONG time because I really wanted to get it (and the next few right) since it contains some of the most significant changes from the original fic. I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT! As always, thank you to the OUTSTANDING @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me, knocking ideas around, and reassuring me when I was second-guessing everything. YOU ARE THE BEST TJ!

Chapter Rating: E

Warnings: explicit sexual content (fingering, PiV sex, cum eating), language

Word Count: 9.6k words

“How can this be so kriffing boring?” Senna muttered, rubbing her face. “I really thought this talk would have at least some worthwhile details in it, but the guy giving it has to have been around when they invented the hyperdrive.”

Rex chuckled into his cup of caf. “Oh, come on. I don’t think it’s so bad.”

Senna rolled her eyes at him. “Of course you wouldn’t. You two geezers are kindred spirits.”

“I’m technically younger than you, you know. Accelerated aging and all that.”

She rolled her eyes again, and Rex nudged her with an elbow. It seemed as though she was in higher spirits today, and he couldn’t be certain if it was because the meet with Fisk was set for tomorrow or if there was something else at play. Even her frustration and complaining seemed more light-hearted, and it had made the burden he carried feel slightly more tolerable.

Maybe it was the right call to allow her to do this.

As the speaker wrapped up the session, Senna sighed, powering down the comm node. “Well that was another day wasted.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he countered. “We learned some more of the command structure. That’s important.”

“But we need more. I need to know what that super weapon is. All we know is that it’s a game-changer in the Empire’s eyes, but we’ve hardly learned anything else helpful. No build schedule, no people running the project, not even the mention of where it’s happening.” She was pulling her bun down and massaging her scalp, her hair hanging in front of her face like an auburn curtain. Rex tried to stifle a smile as she huffed, causing some of the hair to flutter before she whipped it back over her shoulders and down her back. She chewed a thumbnail before turning her attention to a parcel that she’d brought home with her earlier in the week. He hadn’t questioned it, but his curiosity was piqued as she grabbed it and headed into the ‘fresher.

Probably going out for her nightly walk, he thought as he reached for the datapad she’d been using to take notes. He also dug his hand in the bag of sweets she’d bought back earlier in the week, popping one of the candies in his cheek as he began reviewing her notes.

There has to be something here worthwhile.

He still shared her frustration, but he felt he needed to remain optimistic, if nothing else other than for her mental state. His eyes flicked to the door of the ‘fresher as he heard the shower turn on.

Maybe she’s just getting ready for bed tonight.

He wondered if her not going out meant something. He sucked on the candy in his cheek.

A short while later, Senna emerged, but when she did, she wasn’t wearing a new set of clothes to sleep in. Rex had to clench his jaw to keep it from falling open.

She’d swept her hair back in a slightly more stylized bun with smaller braids tucked into it, but she’d allowed some wisps to hang free, framing her face. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was wearing a bit of makeup, just enough to accentuate her eyes. But the thing that surprised him most was the cerulean sundress she was wearing. The fabric was simple enough, but the cut hung perfectly on her, outlining her curves in ways that somehow made her eyes sparkle even more. Thin straps laid across her shoulders, weaving across her back in a simple pattern, and the skirt swept to halfway down her shins. It was modest compared to some of the garments he’d seen in his time, but somehow alluring in ways that made sweat break out across the back of his neck. She’d pulled her boots back on underneath and was reaching for her jacket when she seemed to finally notice him staring.

“There’s a festival tonight. Kind of wanted to go see what it’s about,” she said quietly. She brushed a piece of hair behind one ear, sheepishly smiling as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“By yourself?” The question came out more accusing than Rex meant, and Senna ducked her head, rubbing the back of her neck.

“There’s a big dinner tonight for the conference. All of the Imps should be there. Figured it’d be safe enough on my own.”

“Oh.”

“I-I just… I didn’t know if… I didn’t know if you’d want to go.” She paused. “Do… do you want to go?”

Rex’s mind faltered.

Did she not want me to go? She’s been distant the last week, pulling away. I don’t want to intrude if she needs the space. But… when she looks like that… Maker…

“I should probably stay in and go over the notes. And then make sure we’re prepped for the meet tomorrow.” The words were out of his mouth like a reflex, and he found himself second-guessing them immediately. Her expression was unreadable.

“Alright then. Might grab dinner while I’m out too.”

“Right. Bring me something back?” he asked.

She smiled gently. “Of course.” They stared at each other for another beat, Senna rocking nervously back and forth on her heels. It was as if she wanted to say something else, but was unable to find a starting point. Finally, she seemed to give up trying, reaching over and snatching her comm from where it sat on the desk. Quickly, she pulled her jacket on and slipping the comm into her pocket. “I shouldn’t be out long. Probably won’t be too much fun.” Her smile was almost apologetic.

“Yeah. Sure,” he fumbled.

Before any more awkward silence could hang between them, she was out the door, leaving Rex alone as he replayed the moment again and again in his mind.

What the kriff was that?

—

Senna walked quickly through the crowds on the street, keeping her head down as if she could outrun the awkward encounter with Rex by putting more distance between them.

What the kriff was that?

She had thought about asking him to come with her. Tortured herself over it, in fact. Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that was a violation of the invisible and inconsistent boundary she’d set for herself.

Still… maybe it would have been nice for me to ask.

Dammit.

The evening air was cool, but a warm breeze blew some loose tendrils of hair against her cheeks, and she could smell food vendors nearby frying every type of meat and cheese under the sun. The tinkle of laughter and the notes of music carried on the cool night air, and as she got closer to the square, she felt some of her tension melt away as she sank into the festival atmosphere. Children raced past, brushing her skirt as they sprinted carelessly by, laughing and screaming with dust swirling in their wake. Senna smiled to herself as she disappeared into the crowd, enjoying the feeling of being around people, yet alone. She made her way through the throng, the music growing louder as she wove by group after group of people laughing and giggling. Suddenly, everything opened up around her as she reached the square, and she inhaled sharply as she took it in.

The entire area had been completely transformed from what she’d stumbled upon on her first day out. Small lights were strung within and between the trees, twinkling joyously in the night and softly illuminating the various vendor stalls and the large space where people were dancing. The leaves whispered in the breeze, harmonizing with the laughter and shouts of the onlookers that stood around the edge of the dance floor. A live band played a quick-tempoed tune as the dancers whirled, the colorful fabrics of their clothes waving in wide arcs as they spun, hair and tendrils whipping around like grass in the wind. The smell of assorted fried food and warm drinks was stronger now, carried on the wind along with the sounds, and Senna felt her stomach grumble quietly. She let her shoulder lean against a pillar that was wrapped in streamers and greenery as she took the scene in. She’d never really had the opportunity to see festivals like this while she was a Jedi, and moments of joy like this one warmed her heart after so much time spent in a war.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” a familiar voice said softly next to her, and she jumped, whirling to glare at the man next to her. Familiar brown eyes twinkled beneath the brim of a hat that was covering his blonde hair as he leaned closer to her.

Rex.

“Did you follow me?” she whispered with an edge of annoyance.

Too close.

“No. Well, yes. But I kind of wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said sheepishly, ducking his head. “And I figured… well, we are supposed to be on our honeymoon.”

Senna studied him for another moment.

“I suppose that’s true,” she conceded. She felt him step closer, hesitantly wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Is this alright?” he murmured against her ear.

“Yes,” she breathed, trying to keep her heart from racing as she felt his fingers rest against her hip. Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips as she fumbled to change the subject and ignore the heat racing to her cheeks. “You ever see anything like this?”

“We weren’t exactly around a lot of festivals on our campaigns.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” They stood in silence for a few more minutes as the song came to a close and the dancers all applauded along with the crowd. The band struck up a new song, and many of the onlookers took to the dance floor, swaying in time with the music. The beat tugged at Senna, and after a few seconds, she found herself tapping her foot. Rex glanced down at where her boot was keeping tempo, smiling to himself before his eyes caught hers. She couldn’t help but grin back at him.

Maybe he’s right. We are supposed to be out together. What could it hurt?

Senna leaned over and said quietly, “You uh…ever learn how to dance, Captain?”

He turned to look at her, noting her cocked eyebrow and taking it as a challenge. “I may have picked up a few dance steps on Coruscant when I was there on leave. Don’t know that I’m any good at any of them though.”

“Well, why don’t we find out then?” she giggled, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the dancers as she tossed her inhibitions to the wind.

He hesitated, pulling back on her hand. She whirled back around to face him, her eyes sparkling in the lantern light. A sudden giddiness came over her, and for once, she wasn’t going to resist it.

We deserve this much, don’t we?

“Come on, Lon. You owe me a honeymoon.” He still was scanning the crowd nervously, so she stepped closer, whispering in his ear, “We deserve to have some fun.”

Rex chuckled quietly. “I suppose we do.”

The air was warmer as she led him towards the dance area, and she stripped out of her jacket, tossing it on a nearby bench. The breeze tugged at her hair, dragging some of the loose strands across her bare shoulders, and she inhaled deeply.

Have some fun.

She turned back to Rex. His gaze was gentle yet piercing, and she felt herself grow warmer. He followed her lead, tossing his jacket on the same bench before interlacing his fingers with hers as she led him through the dancers, weaving along until they found a spot to stake their claim. Turning to face him, Senna let her left arm drift over his shoulder. “You know the Coruscant Whirl?” she asked.

Rex smirked. “Can a Toydarian fly?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, not always super well, but-“ He interrupted her by pulling her close and whipping her around in a circle, and a loud cackle burst out of her as he twirled her. They separated in time with the tempo, their fingertips grazing as they slid by one another until he stepped forward and firmly gripped her hand, spinning her back into him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at ease, this happy. She was out of breath from laughing, she was sweaty from the exertion, and she felt as if an ember in her chest was being blown upon every time she caught Rex’s eye, every time his hands found their place on her waist. She wasn’t certain she’d ever seen him this happy either.

She never wanted it to end.

Aren’t we owed this much? After all of it?

Rex’s grin made her heart flutter as he stepped closer to her, wrapping his fingers around her waist, lifting her easily and spinning her. She whooped in surprise at first before tipping her head back and giggling.

“Didn’t expect that one, huh?” he teased in her ear as he spun her around.

“I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised,” she said, her arms drifting to his shoulders as he replaced her on the ground. They were both laughing and panting as they danced, Senna almost daring Rex to keep pace, and him meeting the challenge at every turn. Whipping her around one more time, he pulled her back in and dipped her low just as the song ended, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck as her hair finally fell from its loose bun and spilled over his arm. Senna tipped her head back and laughed. Gently, Rex pulled her back up, her hair sticking to her face and neck as she tried to regain her breath. “Very well done, sir,” she said approvingly.

“I do what I can,” he replied, a grin cutting across his face from ear to ear.

Maker, he’s handsome.

The barriers were crumbling, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. At least, not for tonight.

We should be allowed to be happy. After everything we’ve been through.

Just playing our parts. Valla and Lon Cardell. Honeymooning together.

The band had moved on to a much slower song, and the couples around them had started to move together, holding each other close. Rex turned to look at Senna, and she could see the hesitation, the question clear in his gaze. She shrugged, stepping closer and placing his hand on her waist.

“It is supposed to be our honeymoon,” she reminded him.

He smiled but said nothing, pulling her closer.

Senna slid her left arm back up over his shoulder and allowed the fingers of her right hand to intertwine with his as she let her face rest against his chest. She could hear his heart beating and smell the sweat on him as they swayed in time with the music. The warmth of his hand on the small of her back was a grounding presence, holding her close, and for the first time since before the war, the entire galaxy seemed to fall away. She felt Rex rest his cheek against the top of her head, and she pressed more into him.

Just pretend. Just for a little while.

As they swayed, Rex pulled their clasped hands to his chest, running his thumb over the back of her hand. He turned to whisper into her ear, “Almost makes you feel normal, huh?”

Something stirred within her, twisting her stomach. She smiled sadly up at him. “You forget, this was never going to be my normal,” she whispered back.

“And… what about now?” he asked.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. She froze, and she felt him tense as she pulled back to look at him. His eyes were searching hers, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction. The problem was she wasn’t sure what her reaction was. The ground suddenly felt unsteady under her feet as her brain rushed to interpret what Rex meant, what he could possibly be implying. Her heart was singing at her to hope, but her brain was in an all-out assault to quash that.

You love him.

You can’t.

But what if he…

The song came to an end, and an announcement about the night’s scheduling was played over the sound system. Senna blinked as the speaker blared, derailing her frantic train of thought.

Just small talk. Just pretend. He’d never… no. You can’t let yourself think that.

You’ll only get hurt. Or you’ll hurt him.

Senna smiled back up at him. “We should get some food,” she said as she tucked her hair back into a bun, bending over to grab her jacket striding off towards a food stand. She could feel Rex’s eyes following her for a few seconds before he apparently decided to let it go, falling into step behind her. Her fingers flexed nervously, her eyes darting among the vendors until they settled on a stall selling roasted meat on sticks.

Does… does he?

She shook her head, quickly paying the vendor for two sticks of meat and a bag of dried fruit to share. Her stomach growled, and she bit into the meat, barely tasting it as her mind raced.

You can’t.

“Hey, are you alright?” Rex asked from right next to her.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I… here,” she said, extending him the other stick. He took it, but his eyes never left her. She ate quickly, discarding the wooden stick and tearing open the fruit bag. The sugar and some other spice tingled on her tongue. Rex was eating more slowly, his eyes seemingly never leaving her.

“Are you sure? Because you seem… distant.”

She tried not to squirm under his gaze.

Haven’t I been all week?

Senna turned to face him. Her heart lurched at the way he was looking at her.

He just wants to understand. And maybe you owe him that much.

“Rex, I-”

Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion on the east end of the festival. Shouts and screams cut through the night air, and suddenly, the sound of modulated voices carried over the crowd. Rex and Senna’s eyes met, alarm permeating both of their gazes as they understood what was happening.

Imperials.

Rex stood on his tiptoes to see above the crowd, and when his eyes settled on the far end where the noise was coming from, his mouth pulled into a thin, tight line, confirming what Senna feared. He leaned close, speaking directly into her ear. “They’ve got a small army, and it seems they’re kettling the crowd. I don’t have my chain code with me. Do you?”

Senna’s hands flew to her pockets, already knowing she hadn’t brought her identification as her fingers futilely felt for the chain code disk.

Kriff. How could I have been so careless?

Rex didn’t need her to confirm his suspicions as he met her eyes. “Guess their dinner’s over. Time to go,” he muttered. His arm slipped protectively around her as he began pressing them back away from the main avenue. Quickly, Senna pulled the hood of her jacket up and tried to shield her face with it. Rex tipped the brim of his hat lower, turning up the collar of his jacket as well. They started moving away from the impending line of stormtroopers at as normal of a pace as possible. An announcement boomed over a loudspeaker somewhere.

“This is an unauthorized gathering that is in direct violation of curfew. Disperse immediately or you will be arrested.” There were shouts of protest from various onlookers, but most people were moving away.

“We hold this festival every year. Why would they do this?” Senna heard one woman ask.

“Because they can,” another grumbled in response.

Senna’s mind was racing, her heart rate spiking with fear.

He’s here because of me. I did this. It’s my fault. I put us in danger.

Rex took Senna’s hand and they wove back through the crowd away from the approaching squadron. Slipping into an alleyway, he led her away from the main street. They could hear more and more loudspeakers and the modulated voices of the stormtroopers demanding people move, followed up with a few indignant shouts.

“This way,” Rex whispered. “It should dump us right in front of the inn.”

My fault. My fault. My fault.

They stepped quickly through the darkness, but no matter how much space they put between themselves and the festival, they still could hear the comm chatter of stormtroopers, too close for comfort. Senna was completely disoriented, clinging to Rex’s hand as he worked his way through the labyrinth of alleys and backstreets. Suddenly, he turned one corner, and then immediately jumped backwards, slamming Senna against the wall. She took in his expression, his eyes flicking back and forth, calculating his next move before his brown irises finally found hers in the dark.

“There’s a squad at the end of the alley coming this way,” he whispered. “Come on.”

Rex doubled back, and despite her long legs, Senna found herself jogging to keep up with his pace. He tried another route, but was met with yet another squad working their way towards them.

“Kriff,” he muttered under his breath. Senna could see the tension in his shoulders as he thought, working over the maps she’d watched him memorize in his head. After a few seconds, he turned the opposite direction of the stormtroopers, heading back the way they’d come before ducking into a sidestreet. Senna followed quickly, keeping her head down as she tried to take in her surroundings.

The sidestreet was largely empty, peppered with rundown storefronts and buzzing neon signs. A stray tooka watched them with mild interest, scratching at an ear with a clawed foot. There was a mild stench of standing water and garbage that permeated the entire street, and Senna fought the urge to wrinkle her nose. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, and she felt her chest begin to clench with nerves.

We can’t get caught. That was the deal. No getting captured. No matter what.

As if he could sense her fear, Rex reached back for her hand, which she gratefully slipped into his. “This connects with a fenced-off courtyard that we should be able to scale and cut through,” he murmured. “Think you can handle that?”

“Are you seriously asking if I can climb a fence, Rex?” she joked, doing a poor job of hiding the desperation in her voice.

He smirked, but before he could retort, they heard the click of boot heels and froze. Rex grabbed her arm, pulling her into the shadows. A few seconds later, a squadron of stormtroopers rounded the corner, making their way down the alley and scanning for any stragglers. They stopped a few passerby, and their demands echoed down the street.

“HAVE YOUR CHAIN CODES OUT FOR INSPECTION.”

Rex’s head was on a swivel, looking up and down the connecting alleys. His grip on her hand was firm, and it felt like the only thing keeping Senna from screaming in frustration. She turned and looked down the street, inhaling sharply as she spotted two officers with the squad. One was a younger woman, laughing at something the other had said, but the gait and posture of her counterpart was unmistakable.

Kriff.

“It’s Fisk,” Senna breathed. “Rex, he’s here.”

Her mind raced with thoughts of what would happen if Fisk saw them, and her breath came out in a shaky exhale.

I’ll be arrested as a spy. There’s no way they won’t figure out Rex is a clone. I don’t even know what would happen to him. Would they just kill him? Or lock him away? Or worse?

“Of course he is,” Rex muttered. He squeezed her hand. “This way.”

Rex led her down the closest stairwell, pulling her inside the door of a club named The Tawny Tooka. Senna’s breath felt caught in her chest as he pressed her up against the wall just inside the door, listening to the outside foot traffic. Her heart was racing, but at the moment, she couldn’t determine if it was due to the danger or how close Rex was standing to her, his hands pressed to her hips as he tried to see through the smudged window in the door.

“Paying customers only,” came a gravelly voice, making Senna jump in the quiet. Turning, she spotted a female Pa’lowick leaning out of a curtained window, watching the two of them. She was wearing a wig that sat crookedly on her elongated head, and her lips were painted a neon shade of purple that matched the glitter smeared on her eyelids.

“We just need to get our bearings. Got a little lost,” Rex said, and the Pa’lowick snorted.

“I’m sure the Imps out there can help you find your way just fine, handsome. So either pay up, or get out.”

Rex glared at her, but Senna stepped past him. “What’s the fee?”

“Twenty credits each.”

Senna counted out forty credits as she glanced past the Pa’lowick. She could make out a sliver of the club through the curtain behind the Pa’lowick, and from what she could see inside, it became very clear that she and Rex had stumbled into a sex club.

“I’m surprised the Imps let you keep this place running,” she commented casually, trying to distract from the way her hands were trembling as she replaced the rest of her credit chips in her pocket.

Get inside and hide. Disappear.

The Pa’lowick shrugged. “Normally, you’ll find a few of their officers back there, but they’ve got some big shindig tonight. As long as their top brass continues to patronize this establishment, the rest of ‘em will look the other way.” The attendant scooped Senna’s credits off the counter. “Can take your coats and hat. There’s toys and other fun supplies for sale along the east wall. Private booths on the south wall. Seems like this one prefers to be a bit more…discrete.” She winked at Rex, and his mouth twisted into what Senna guessed was supposed to be a smile. His discomfort was obvious, and she wasn’t certain she was doing much better at hiding hers.

“Thanks,” Senna mumbled, handing off her jacket before grabbing Rex by the wrist and leading him through the doorway that led into the club. He barely had time to toss his own jacket and hat at the Pa’lowick, who was rolling her eyes at the two of them as they disappeared.

Senna had been to several of these types of establishments after the war had ended, both as a customer looking for someone to take her mind off of things and as an asset looking to gather intel for Gerrerra. Despite her familiarity with this type of place, something about Rex’s presence made her cheeks flush with heat as she led him through the sea of bodies towards the south wall. Every step that buried them deeper into the crowd put her more at ease, and she felt some of the tightness in her shoulders abate as she and Rex put distance between themselves and the front entrance.

The attendant was right. Privacy will be the way to go. Especially if the Imps decide to come looking down here.

The room was stifling with the smell of perfume and sweat. Laughter and shouts echoed over a thrumming bass, and Senna’s head swam from the heat that seemed borderline oppressive. Bodies were pressed together in every nook and cranny of the club, parties of every species and gender coupling on couches or working up to it at tables with drinks in hand, leaned close to be heard over the music. Some more adventurous clientele had taken to the stage, exhibiting their proclivities while others seemed to just prefer taking in the show. When she glanced over her shoulder, Senna found Rex staring hard at her, and she couldn’t help but grin impishly at him.

“What, you can’t bend like that?” she teased, jerking her head toward a pair of Twi’leks that were practically contorted on stage with one another. She hoped the joke would keep him from hearing how hard her heart was pounding in her chest.

Rex’s eyes flicked over to the adventurous couple, and he managed a tight smile as he leaned down to reply. His breath was hot against her cheek. “Not without a good amount of stretching.”

She giggled, some of the tension leaving her body as his hands found their way to her hips. She leaned back into him, interlacing her fingers with his as her eyes scanned the crowd. Standing on her tiptoes, she was able to spot the booths in the back, several of them occupied while others had their curtains hanging open invitingly.

“Think we should find somewhere more private like the attendant suggested?” she asked, leaning back to speak to Rex. Her lips grazed the shell of his ear, and she could have sworn she felt him shudder.

“I think that’s best. Lead the way, love.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

Love.

She shook her head, desperately trying to clear the haze that was inundating her mind.

Ever the professional. Still playing his part.

Despite that thought, heat licked up her spine as she strode forward, keeping one hand linked with his as she wove through the crowd. Her chest felt tight, and an undeniable wetness was forming between her legs. She made a beeline for the first booth that was obviously open, and Rex followed her inside.

The two of them pressed into the small booth, and Rex pulled the curtain closed behind them, plunging them into darkness. With that darkness and the sense of isolation came relief, and Senna found herself releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

We’re safe. For now.

The dark space was barely large enough for two people to stand in with a small, L-shaped seat pushed into the corner that was clearly meant to facilitate one very specific thing. Senna’s head was spinning in the close space, caught between the rush of relief and the tension of having Rex so close. The air felt thick as Rex turned in the dark, leaning down to whisper to her. She struggled to focus on the words rather than how his breath felt against the shell of her ear and the smell of his skin. Some of his stubble scraped her cheek as he spoke, the low husky rumble of his voice making her knees tremble.

“We can lay low here for a bit until the troopers clear out on the street. They’ll stay just long enough to be an inconvenience and leave when the crowd has dispersed. I don’t think Fisk saw us.”

Senna’s hand rested on his forearm, nodding in agreement. “D-do we stay in here until then?” She knew what she hoped for, but she needed him to confirm it. All of her inhibitions were melting away faster than her brain could counteract them. The adrenaline was wearing off, quickly being replaced by a burning need that was enveloping her more with every breath.

Just an act. It has to be enough.

But what if it’s not?

Rex chuckled, and the sound made Senna’s heart flutter as his hand found a place on her hip. “I’m afraid I don’t have a better idea. But it’ll be f-“

The curtain was abruptly pulled open, and Senna blinked at the large Togruta man standing before them. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he had his arm draped around the shoulder of a Twi’lek, who had his hand halfway down the Togruta’s pants. Both of their eyes widened in surprise before the Togruta glared at Rex.

“Occupied,” Rex growled.

“Well at least use it then so the rest of us can have a turn,” the Togruta rumbled.

“The next one’s open, sweetheart,” the Twi’lek giggled, the muscles of his arms flexing, and the Togruta moaned. “Let’s leave them to their play.”

“Fine.” The Togruta managed to shoot Rex one more withering look before he closed the curtain, and Senna heard a thud followed by a loud titter from the connecting wall a few moments later.

“I hope that doesn’t keep happening,” Rex muttered, yanking the curtain closed again. “Don’t want to have to keep fending them off.”

Senna wet her lips, an idea forming in her mind that under normal circumstances, she’d have immediately rejected.

But these were not normal circumstances.

“It probably will keep happening.” She inhaled deeply as her addled brain reached what she considered to be the only possible conclusion. “Sit down on the couch, Rex.” Her voice was breathier than she’d meant for it to be, and he turned to look at her. She wasn’t certain if she was imagining it, but she could have sworn he looked hopeful, almost eager.

“What?” he asked.

She pushed at his shoulders, guiding him backwards. “They’re going to keep coming in, so we’d better look like we’re doing something, or else they’ll get an employee to kick us out. And then we’ll be out in the open and really will be conspicuous.”

Rex fell heavily back onto the seat. “That makes sense,” he agreed slowly. She bent down to bunch her skirt in her hands, hiking the blue fabric up around her thighs. His gaze felt molten as it raked over each newly exposed inch of skin.

“I do that sometimes,” she joked as she climbed onto his lap and straddling him. Her skirt pooled around her hips, exposing her thighs as her knees sunk into the cushions on either side of him, and she could see Rex’s eyes trail along the exposed flesh, his hands hovering over her. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against his and nuzzling against his cheek.

It’s just an act. What we need to sell it.

Rex finally appeared to decide to rest his hands on her hips, digging his fingers into the wadded-up fabric of her skirt. “If anyone comes in, just follow my lead,” she whispered against his ear, and she felt him shiver. This time, she was sure of it, certain that he was reacting that way because of her. Heat bloomed between her legs.

Just an act.

“And what does that entail?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“We’re going to give them a show,” she laughed. “Make them think this is definitely in use.”

His grip on her hips tightened, and Senna became increasingly aware that her core was pressed against his crotch, and that he was absolutely reacting to having her so close. But before she could give it any additional thought, two voices just outside of the booth’s curtain grabbed her attention, and the curtain rattled as though it was being tugged. Senna rolled her hips, grinding against Rex as the curtain opened.

She couldn’t stop the moan that tore from her throat, her fingers digging into the back of Rex’s neck as his grip on her hips tightened. She ground herself against him again, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers. She could feel the length as she ground her cunt against it, and she panted against his neck. Rex leaned into her, making a low sound in his throat that sent electricity shooting through her veins. His hands were gripping her firmly, guiding the motion of her hips as the curtain swung open.

“Oh, sorry!” It flipped shut quickly, and Senna paused, panting against Rex’s neck.

“Yeah… like that,” she whispered with a chuckle.

“Seems we sold it,” Rex rasped. There was a little strain in his voice, and she could feel how tightly he was still holding her. One of his hands moved to trail along her spine, brushing the bare skin between her shoulder blades and drawing a shiver from her. She dug her teeth into her lip to keep herself from gasping.

“Is… is this alright?” he asked after a few moments.

She nuzzled against his throat, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Just an act.

He swallowed hard. “I just… I don’t want… I know that Fisk made you uncomfortable when he touched you like this. And I don’t want to do that.”

“You’re not Fisk, Rex. It’s different when you touch me.”

She could feel a throbbing between her legs, and her head swam as she fought the urge to grind against Rex again. His grip loosened on her skirt.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” he asked, so quietly she almost didn’t catch it.

Senna turned to face him, her nose grazing his in the dim light. His eyes seemed darker, and his breath was warm against her lips as he watched her, searching her gaze. Her brain screamed at her to stop, to push away from him, to not let herself get pulled under.

But for once, she didn’t listen.

“Yes.”

She didn’t know she’d said it out loud at first, but she felt Rex’s breath stutter against her lips. His brows were furrowed as he searched her eyes, almost as if he wanted to be sure he’d heard her correctly.

Slowly, Rex reached up, pushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek, tracing along her jaw, and Senna leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and savoring the warmth of his palm. Rex’s eyes flicked down to her mouth, and his thumb gently traced along her lower lip. The pressure was light, and Senna kissed the pad of his thumb. His eyes locked with hers.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

Rex traced the lines of her throat until his warm fingers grazed along her collar bone, finally reaching her bare shoulders. His fingertips touched the strap of her dress, toying with the thin strand of material. He hesitated, his eyes finding hers again, and Senna shrugged her shoulder down, letting the strap slip off in invitation. Rex’s eyes locked on her bare shoulder, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He looked hungry.

And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be consumed by him.

Senna felt as if she was floating, and before she could consider it further, she reached for his hand. Rex allowed her to take it, and she kissed along his knuckles, placing one against his palm before she guided his hand under her skirt, resting it on her bare thigh. The two of them watched each other as she took his other hand, kissing it as well before she let out a shaky exhale, pulling Rex’s hand to her chest. The hand on her thigh tightened, and she placed her palm over the top of the one that was resting on her chest, adjusting her weight so that her core was pressed against his cock. Every muscle in Rex’s body was tensed, but as she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, his fingers trailed along the neckline of the dress before his palm dropped down to cup her breast, squeezing it gently.

Senna’s head rolled back, and she gasped, grinding against him. He groaned in response.

The curtain rattled again.

The final barricade between them crumbled as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Rex’s hand slipped from her breast, sliding around the back of her neck to pull her into a heated kiss. They’d kissed before of course, but this one was different, urgent, hungry, all tongues and teeth clashing together with an urgency that they’d both repressed for months. The taste of Rex pulled Senna under, and she was more than happy to drown in him. His tongue traced her lower lip, requesting access and her hands slipped around the back of his head as she granted it eagerly, running her tongue along his, desperate to give him whatever he wanted. Her hips rolled again, and Rex reciprocated, gasping into her mouth. Both of his hands gripped her bare thighs under her skirt, pulling her against him with every roll of their hips, and it didn’t take the two of them long to find a rhythm. Her nails scratched lightly across the back of his neck as she began to grind against him more insistently. Her undergarments were quickly dampening, but she couldn’t stop.

And she didn’t want to.

Rex seemed as lost as she was in the moment, grunting every time she pressed against him. She whined against his mouth.

The curtain was still open, but neither of them seemed to care.

“Touch me,” she gasped.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Please.”

Rex slipped his hand into her hair, gently tangling his fingers in it. His grip was firm, but so gentle compared to how Fisk had held her head still before.

She wanted more.

Rex’s lips worked their way along her jawline until he reached her throat. She felt his mouth press against the tendons there, sucking a mark before he moved down to her collar bone. His tongue traced her clavicle until he reached the scar left there by the shattered tree branch, and suddenly his kisses were more tender as he focused on the healed mark.

Senna closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as he lavished the mark that haunted her with attention, ensuring she’d never look at it the same in the mirror.

“More?” he whispered.

“More. Please.”

She pressed her core harder against him, and there was no question that this had gone beyond an act for the benefit of those around them.

Senna was chasing her pleasure against Rex’s hardening cock.

And he was helping her.

The hand on her thigh reached further under her skirt, sliding around to grip her ass, guiding her along his length. She felt his fingertips slip under the edge of her panties as his fingers dug into the curve of her ass.

The curtain closed again.

They didn’t stop.

Rex’s grip on her hair tightened, and she gasped before his lips met hers again, his voice a deep rasp.

“Valla.”

The use of her false name spurred her on for some reason.

It has to be enough.

“Don’t stop. Please,” she begged.

Every barrier Senna had thrown up crumbled to dust as she smelled Rex’s skin, tasting his sweat as her tongue traced along the muscles of his throat. Her nose grazed his jaw, and she could feel a day of accumulated scruff scrape against her skin. She had wanted him for weeks, but this was different.

She needed this. Needed him.

It was easy to slip into this role, to justify that she was playing the part of an eager wife on her honeymoon with her husband, but she knew that wasn’t what this was. It was messy, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. Rex was intoxicating, and she wasn’t about to further deprive herself of him.

Don’t we deserve this? her mind whispered to her.

“More,” she begged.

Rex’s fingers dug into her flesh hard enough that she was certain he was going to leave bruises, and the thought made her clench around nothing as her panties became a sopping mess.

Let him mark me. Let him make me his.

She lost herself in him, panting against his mouth as he pulled her forehead against his.

“We…we sh-should…” Rex cut himself off with a moan as she nipped at his jawline.

Senna felt everything in her body tightening as her orgasm built at breakneck speed. She whined against Rex’s lips, and his hand slipped between her legs.

“Are you close?” he gasped.

All she could manage was a nod. She could feel his hesitation, his hand resting against the inside of her thigh.

“P-please. Touch me.”

“Yeah?” he understood what she was asking for. Of course he did. Rex knew her.

“Please. Please. Please…” She felt him nudge her panties to the side with his fingers before he slipped one thick digit along her soaked cunt, tracing her lips and gently rubbing circles around her clit. Senna let out a loud moan.

“Right there. Please. Right there. Don’t stop.”

She’d watched his hands often, how his calloused and scarred fingers moved deftly when he was completing a task. They were strong yet gentle, and while they’d almost been her demise, she’d found comfort in them that outweighed everything. She’d thought about how they felt cradling her face, how they felt when he held her at night, how warm they were when they were wrapped around hers. And she’d quietly mewled at night at the thought of them touching her in more intimate places. Her fantasy was overcome by reality as Rex slipped two fingers inside of her, working his thumb at her clit as she ground down on him.

The sensation was better than she’d ever been able to imagine.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” he rasped, his hand quickly growing wet with her arousal as he plunged his fingers in and out of her.

Senna whined as she frantically rode Rex’s hand. He slipped a third finger into her, finally pressing deep enough to find the spongy place within her, and she gasped.

“Lon. Fuck. Right there. Gods above, right there.”

“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this,” he whispered.

Her eyes met his, her lips parted as sweat slicked her skin. His gaze was piercing as he watched her with dark eyes.

“Cum for me,” he demanded, nodding in encouragement. “Let me have it.”

And she did.

He pulled her lips to his, swallowing her screams as she came hard, clenching around his fingers. Wave after wave coursed through her, leaving her shuddering in his arms as she came down from her high, the thrumming bass of the music outside of the curtain finally replacing the rushing of blood in her ears.

Senna flopped against Rex, panting and listening to the hammering of his heart in his chest. She could feel his cock, still hard as durasteel in his trousers, pressed against her. He’d removed his hand from between her legs, and she could see his fingers glistening with her release in the dim light. Rex was examining them as though they were coated in liquid gold, and after a moment, he slipped his fingers into his own mouth, groaning at the taste. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him lick her release from his fingers as though it were the finest wine in the galaxy.

After a moment, he leaned down, kissing her. She could taste herself on his tongue. He offered her his fingers, and she finished cleaning them off, her own tang sharp against her taste buds. Rex watched her with interest, his eyes following the way her tongue traced his knuckles before she sucked the tips of his fingers.

“Atta girl,” he praised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His chest was still heaving, and Senna watched another trickle of sweat dribble across his collar before dotting the fabric of his shirt with moisture.

The heat grew again in her belly at his praise, words he’d said to her many times that somehow were different now. Sitting up, she reached between her legs, undoing his pants.

It’s not enough.

“What are you doing?” he rasped.

Just a husband and wife on their honeymoon. Just an act.

It was flimsy and outlandish, but it was the best reasoning she could come up with in her addled brain at the moment. She had kept everyone at arm’s length for the last year, never letting anyone get too close. Not even the others she’d slept with had felt this close, this all-encompassing, and even as she let go, she was trying to keep Rex distant in her mind.

That’s all this is. A job. A release. We both needed it. We’re doing each other a favor. Lon and Valla. Fucking each other as married couples do.

She pulled her hand away, meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

Rex watched her for a moment before he shifted to undo his pants the rest of the way, lifting his hips slightly to slide them down just enough. She could feel the warmth of his skin where his bare hips now pressed against the inside of her thighs. And then she felt the hot, blunt head of his cock run through her slick folds. His lips parted slightly, and he released a sharp exhale at the feel of her. His eyes never left hers as he reached between her legs again, pumping himself, his knuckles grazing her clit with every stroke. He coated himself with her release before notching himself at her entrance.

Fuck. He’s huge.

They panted as they watched one another for a moment, not daring to move.

There was still time to stop, to put all their clothes back on and never go further.

It’s not enough.

Senna crossed the line for both of them, lowering herself down onto Rex’s cock on shaky legs and spearing herself on his length. Her head rolled back and she moaned as his girth split her open. He was so thick, and as the head of his cock pushed into her, she felt her walls stretch to accommodate him. Patience was never something she prided herself in, and it took everything she had to ease herself downwards. She was definitely going to be sore, but worries of tomorrow were completely banished from her mind. Right now, the entire rest of the galaxy had melted away, all except for Rex. Her hair had come loose from her bun again, hanging around his face as she leaned over him, enclosing the two of them even further. She could see he was wound just as tightly as she was, his brows furrowed as he stared at where he was disappearing inside of her, a centimeter at a time. She gave a few rolls of her hips until she was seated fully in his lap, clenching around him in the dimly lit booth. Rex’s fingers were digging into her hips again, but his eyes were locked on hers, chest heaving as he kept himself in check.

Senna sat up, grinding herself against him. Her palms pressed against the wall behind his head, and her mouth fell open. She panted as she rolled her hips again, searching for the place inside her that would send her hurtling over the edge.

Rex hissed between clenched teeth, and she leaned further forward, allowing the top of her dress to slip downwards. He reached up, pulling it down to expose her breasts to him. The cerulean fabric pooled around Senna’s waist as she shrugged out of the straps, and Rex’s eyes took her in with a reverence she’d never seen from him.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

Senna rolled her hips again, slowly at first until she was building a steady rhythm, fucking herself on Rex’s cock. He was silent aside from the occasional grunt and his labored breathing. It was everything she’d imagined at night with her fingers buried in her cunt, all of it and more. Her mind was screaming that this was a one-time thing, all an act to keep the mission intact, but Senna wasn’t sure how she’d ever be satisfied again, not with how he was looking at her. The air between them had felt charged for weeks, and every stroke of his cock inside of her rippled through her like lightning, finally striking where she needed it most.

But she needed more. More of him. All of him. Anything less wouldn’t be enough.

She gripped the back of the couch to give herself leverage, bringing her breasts closer to his face. He glanced up at her, and she nodded, her eyes silently pleading.

Touch me.

His palm cupped one of her breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze. She arched further into his touch.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”

She kissed him again, her tongue slipping along his lower lip, and he groaned into her mouth. His fingers wrapped around her nipple, tugging lightly and she gasped.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” she whined.

He did it again, and her back arched in response. Rex growled, low and deep and throaty, and heat rushed between Senna’s legs as the sound rumbled in her chest. Leaning forward, Rex took a nipple between his lips, suckling at it. Senna cradled the back of his head as he took the tender flesh between his teeth, gripping her other breast in his hand and rolling her nipple between his fingers.

“J-just like that. Fuck. Don’t stop.”

Senna fucked him harder than she’d ever fucked anyone in her life. Sweat rolled down her neck, trickling between her breasts as she ground him against the place inside her that drove her wild. Rex chased the trails of perspiration between her breasts with his tongue, alternating between tasting her skin and marking her. Frantically, she adjusted, and the new angle sent Rex’s head tilting back against the edge of the couch, banging against the wall with a dull thud.

His hand left her breast, and she whined, but his fingers slipped back into her hair, pulling her forehead down to touch his again as he began bucking up to meet her thrusts.

“Yes yes yes yes,” she chanted, beginning to bounce on his cock, and the grip on her hip tightened. Rex redoubled his efforts, guiding her up and down along his length as she desperately tried to ground herself in his eyes.

“Lon. More. Please. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

The curtain opened and closed a few times, but neither of them seemed to care or notice. At one point, it remained slightly open, and a sliver of light fell across Rex’s face, illuminating the sheen of sweat that had broken out across his skin.

He’s beautiful.

Senna felt drunk on him. She ground her clit against the patch of hair at the base of his cock before lifting herself off of him just enough to leave the head inside of her. She teased him for a moment, enjoying the feel of his member breaching her and then sliding back out before she dropped herself fully back down on him with a wet smacking sound. He whined in response, spurring her on, and she began riding him harder, willing to do anything to hear him make a sound like that again.

We’re just playing a part. We’re a married couple. That’s what this is. We’re doing our jobs. This is our job. Right?

“Right there. Fuck. Right there, Valla.”

Senna maintained the angle, driving him against her inner walls as though her life depended on it. She was gasping against his ear as he held her close.

“Rex, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Fill me up. Fuck me. Rex please.”

She didn’t even notice she’d switched to his actual name until he gripped her tighter, pulling her close.

“Say it again,” he snarled. “Say my name like that.”

“Lon. Please.”

He adjusted her so that their foreheads were pressed together again, his eyes burning into hers. “No. Say my real name, Senna.”

Her heart fluttered and her cunt clenched at the way her name fell from her lips. She never wanted him to call her anything else again.

“Senna.”

Fuck.

She ground against him frantically, leaning forward to whine in his ear. “Don’t stop, Rex. Please don’t stop. I’m so close. I want you to fill me.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you until I coat your insides, Senna?”

“Yes. Rex. Please. Fuck. I need it. I need you.”

He kissed her, and his hips stuttered. She felt him spurt and twitch within her, and that sent her hurtling over the edge, her head tipped backwards in a silent scream as he grunted, emptying himself into her. Her vision was obscured as it whited out, and for a moment, she wondered if she was about to wake up from a dream again and find herself alone in her bed. The feeling of a hand on her cheek, thumb stroking over the skin, brought her back down to Lothal’s surface, and when she opened her eyes, she found Rex’s brown ones staring up at her.

“Welcome back,” he whispered.

Senna had no response, only managing a dopey grin.

She laid her head on his shoulder as her bliss faded to a buzzing in her ears. She thought she’d want to get up, be able to leave easily, but all she wanted was to feel the heat of his body against hers for a while longer. His cock slipped from her, and she adjusted to let him tuck himself away. His heart was pounding in his chest, and she laid still, listening to it slow until he finally looked down, brushing some hair out of her eyes.

You love him.

“We should get back.”

Everything around Senna shattered.

What did you expect? We played the part. Did what we needed to do. Fooled everyone.

She stood hurriedly, pulling the dress back over her shoulders and finding some wipes to clean herself tucked into the booth. Rex stood, watching her for a moment. Senna tried to keep her face neutral as she offered him the wipes to clean himself off, turning her back as he accepted them. She felt suddenly self-conscious, as if this man hadn’t been buried in her cunt five minutes ago.

Just an act.

“Senna-”

“Let’s go,” she whispered, turning to face him. She gave him a tight smile, trying desperately to keep her emotions at bay. He watched her for another half a beat before pushing the curtain aside for her. She stepped past him, her head still feeling fuzzy.

What just happened?

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @meekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @rennyboo9 @djarrex @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#karrde writes #in command #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #fanfiction #fan fic #captain rex #captain rex x ofc #captain rex x oc #captain rex x original female character #OC Senna Aven #slow burn #romance #friends to lovers #idiots in love #post order 66

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loganslowdown4 · 2 years

Text

I’m gonna attempt to break this down and point out all the stuff in the guys’ rooms for the newest episode because there’s a ton of Easter eggs in here and it’s fun to compile a list!

🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸

And I’m a complete nerd 🤓

Ok let’s start off with

PATTON’S ROOM!

* Ernie plushie (Sesame Street) in homage to LNTAO

* Light blue dad pyjamas

* Chocolate (baby Pound Puppy plushie) from Moving On

* Winnie The Pooh quilt

* Reindeer plushie bean baby from the 80s (I literally used to have these)

* light blue Cat poster

* Orange tabby cat statue (he loves cats, ok?)

* Mrs Fluffy Bottom (bunny plushie from Prince vs Villain short)

* The creepy glowworm from babyhood

* ‘You make me want to die.. of laughter’ misleading compliment card from Virgil from the 12 Days of Sanders Sides (Xmas)

* His glasses

* A plate with a cookie (and a second cookie because he earned it)

* Framed photo of friends (combats the lonely feelings)

* Catholic Youth Bible (from swearing Oath in SvS)

* Braided friendships bracelets in the Roman Virgil and Logan’s colours

* Embroidery thread to make more friendship bracelets in his, Janus and Remus’ colours

* Pizza plushie (from opening shot Thomas saying ‘YouTube Time’)

* Light blue lamp

* The smell of Christmas (in a box!) from Moving On nostalgia episode

* Stitch plushie from opening scene ‘YouTube time’

* Plus the room has the glittery quality that his room did in the moving on episodes

ROMAN’S ROOM!

* Red plush blanket and red silk pillow case fit for a prince

* Red/pink full face cooling sleep mask for beauty sleep

* Wearing his (Beauty and the) Beast onesie from ATHD

* Up poster (part of his 101 Disney poster collection) (plus it mentions ‘adventure’ which is what Roman would want to dream about)

* Glitter/sparkle aesthetic in his room magically flying around; also a soft rainbow glow overlay

* STAR THINGIES (he got them back from the echo-y mind palace)

* Reading Lord of the Rings (TFOTR) (red and white cover!) plus dudes on an adventure with a king and hot elf? It does scream Roman, doesn’t it?

* Plus multiple bookmarks so he can reread his favourite parts (or find parts that the other sides would like)

* Oh hey Katana

* Little Roman fan made wooden dolls

* Pictures from skirt PS, 80s PS, selfie as Prince from vine days

* Sticky notes (red): YOU GOT THIS PAL! (either from himself or Patton); WWLOJD? (What Would Leslie Odom Jr Do?) plus a picture of the man himself (a crush? 😏); Take Dance Classes AGAIN (is this in reference to Thomas can’t dance? ‘I can box step with the rest of them! 5 6 7 8 no need to demonstrate!’)

* Scented candles for sleep

* REMUS omg was I right about them sharing a room? Hahaha he steals a star thingie because he knows Roman loves them

* Roman Youtooz toy from last year

* Lavender sprays for sleep

* Moisturizer for skin care (a prince has got to slay)

VIRGIL’S ROOM!

* Dark aesthetic from Accepting Anxiety episode

* Purple and grey bedding

* Watching a Jack the Ripper conspiracy video on his computer (re: what videos he would make if he had his on YouTube channel from Q&A)

* Green Day t-shirt (specifically American Idiot album) (also featured album on wall in Accepting Anxiety episode)

* Plain purple sleep hoodie (the man cannot be without a hoodie)

* Whiteboard with ‘# of days since last total disaster: 5’ but who knows what his definition of disaster is…

* Black dry erase marker for whiteboard

* Cobwebs on night stand

* MARCUS! Plushie spider

* Patton’s FamILY card

* Huge (almost empty) purple bottle of melatonin (used to aid sleep)

* Book for Grimms fairy tales (decidedly did NOT swear on his ‘bible’ from SvS)

* Nintendo switch

* Not sure what the things standing up are? Maybe candle/lights?

* Also a mood light off to the side

LOGAN’S ROOM!

* The periodic table on the wall with rainbow colours (that’s just perfect)

* Dark blue dad pyjamas and eye mask (probably for a proper nights sleep) plus he replaces his glasses with an eye mask

* Dark blue matching bed sheets because UNIFORMITY

* All the plushies! All of them. I think he needs the most comfort

* Gravity Falls journal #3

* Another self insert fanfic from Roman! (Possibly not the Sherlock one that Roman wrote for Christmas because this is thinner and has different stickers on the cover, but ahhhh that’s so SWEET)

* Blank cue cards for new slang words to learn

* A FINISHED Rubix cube

* His glasses

* A crossword day by day calendar

* A blue alarm clock 11:30pm? (although it’s pretty late, Logan, is that really a good sleep schedule?)

* An empty jar of crofters (because they are so darn collectible)

* A 10th doctor funko pop (and a Tardis underneath all the plushies!)

* A blue mood light behind the plushies

* And he has a Clapper lol

THANKS FOR READING EVERYONE!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #can plushies improve our health #sides rooms #Easter eggs sanders sides #sanders sides things you missed #sander sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts roman #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil #ts theories #ts theory #ts details #long post

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writteninlunarlight-years · 1 month

Note

(May 9 2024: Hi Luna! Just cause I'm worried mine was one of the ones that got deleted I'll resend my ask and if it didn't get deleted then please ignore this!)

-----

Gender:

Female

Pronouns:

She/Her

Race:

Rock gnome

Class:

Multiclass Paladin/Cleric (Probably an Oath of the Ancients paladin and a cleric of Lathander but I haven't given it much thought yet)

Alignment:

Neutral good

Sexuality:

Straight

Appearance:

3.2ft tall with tan skin, curly dark auburn hair that falls down to the middle of her back, middle parted bangs dyed blonde that frame her face falling down to the bottom of her ears and thin blonde braids falling down to just above her shoulders. She has bright amber eyes and visible eyebags, her face giving off a feeling that she's tired and been through a lot, but learning to be content with the life she's lived.

Personality:

Around people she's unfamiliar with she's quiet and reserved at first, worried about how they would perceive her but once they've gained her trust and given some of her trust in turn, she's bright and outgoing. She likes to talk about anything she can think about that interests her or would interest the people around her. Regardless of whether she's opened up or not though, she's incredibly loyal and would fight for their safety if needed. Having lost many people in her life - whether they intended to leave her or unintentionally because of tragedy - she's deathly afraid of being abandoned which is why she works so hard to be good and to do good by others, hoping to quell the nagging voice in her head that tells her she's never good enough or kind enough for anyone to really stay in her life. She tries to hide her overwhelming fears and insecurities with her bubbly personality but often times at night, in the comfort of her tent or in the darkness that veils all secrets, she lets out all the worries she's been holding in all day and just... cries it out until it's time to get back up and continue on with the journey.

Likes:

Tea - both hot and iced, animals but mostly cats above all, a nice blanket to just wrap around herself when she's relaxing or resting, reading, would doodle from time to time, salty snacks, not-too-sweet sweets, magic and the possibilities it offers has always been a wonder and beautiful to her, the rain, the feeling of being helpful and useful to others, and being alone

Dislikes:

Vegetables, coffee, VERY strong smells/scents, spiders give her the creeps but she also would not like to kill them, being in large and loud crowds, and being alone

Extra fun fact:

Once she's opened up, oh boy she's a yapper. If she finds something that extremely interests her, she will not stop talking about it for weeks. Sometimes she will stop herself before saying anything because she's scared that the company she's with will find her annoying, but a lot of the times her Need To Talk will override her feeling of being a burden and just infodump you with why this thing is so interesting oh please listen to her she just HAS to let it out or her average sized 3.2ft body will explode.

-----

(May 9 2024: I will also add this other request of mine in the same ask again)

Also as a separate request (hopefully I'm doing this right or if it's okay) as a Galemancer could I please ask for a Gale x Stelle falling in love and learning to love again type of story?

I had already planned on having Stelle romance Gale in the playthrough I'm planning but I genuinely want to see your take on who would be a nice matchup for her whether that end up actually being someone else entirely!

I really appreciate you resubmitting! I had yours written in my notebook, but since you were an Anon, I didn't know how to notify you! I was swayed about what to choose, but I am confident.

~~~~~ MATCHUPS ~~~~~

BG3

Gale

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

Gale is less than pleased with the turn of events in his life. First, Mystra dumps him and leaves a bomb in his heart, then a mind flayer ship kidnaps him, probing his mind, and now he is on an adventure with a band of misfits.

Well, the bright side is that you were there. Yes, you were sometimes quiet and reserved, but you were one hell of a leader.

You were kind to all your fellow companions, never turning anyone down for their weird habits or issues.

You were also quite attractive. When you fought, you were ferocious like a tiger, but when you were at camp, you were calm and docile like a house cat.

When he opened up to you about Mystra and his Tryssem Tara, he was surprised by your eagerness to know more about the cat than about a God.

He found you interesting; all your morals, hobbies, tics, and everything was so fascinating.

When the news came of his potential death, and you were so worried for him, he felt light, happy even.

He was scared to love again, even if he liked you a lot. He was too scared to love you and be hurt once more.

As time passed and he continued to live for you, he fell harder and harder.

He could listen to you talk for hours on end about so many things. You made life bright again, even with a ticking time bomb.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

After a long, hard battle, the group went to camp; you and many others had wounds far exceeding what was expected in battle planning. Shadowheart and Halsin took turns healing the group; you were the leader, so you asked to go last and just heal yourself. Heading to your tent, you passed all the comrades you grew to call friends. All had agonizing faces due to the pain from their wounds. The feeling of guilt began to gnaw at you. You could have saved everyone this pain if you had just made some better callouts, were a bit stronger, or faster. What stung the most was passing by Gale's tent. He had requested a magical artifact before battle, being fresh out due to some bartering. You told him you'd give him some after the win from today. All you could think, looking at him wincing in pain while lying there, was, 'Stella, how could you be so damn foolish.'

You made your way to your tent, and once inside, you undressed. Slowly relieving yourself of the heavy armor, you started looking for your wounds. You weren't as severely scuffed up as everyone else. Sadly, they all took a lot of hits for you Dressing the wounds you did have every sting and bandage felt like a penance, you should have been just as injured not your poor friends As you dressed the last wound a crack of thunder was heard Peeking out the opening of your tent you saw everyone healed and resting, you all would definitely need a couple days of rest to recoup fully though The rain began soon after, you closed your tent now alone it all came to a head.

The overwhelming emotions took over, and you couldn't help but drop to your knees and cry. The storm ragging on outside covered your cries of pain and torment. How could you let this happen? Thinking back on it, you realize the person who took the most hits for you was Gale. He has always done so since you two had a rendezvous to learn about the weave. The one you lov- no cared about was injured and starving due to you. The tears kept coming, holding yourself close, letting the pain and anguish leave your body. Why were you chosen for all of this? What plan did Lethander have for you? As your body wracked with quivers, suddenly you felt warm. Tan arms were wrapped around you, and bristly chin pressed against your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Jolts ran through you; turning around in the stranger's arms, you were shocked to find Gale there. He looked down at you, reclaiming his hold on you. "Don't you normally love rain? No need to cry, my love, just rest. If you need to cry don't cry alone I will be here for you Stella."

As if breaking the damn, you let it all out, wrapping your arms as best you could around Gales's neck. Crying profusely, he just held you and cradled your head. As the whimpers died with the storm, you two soon found yourselves wrapped together, warm in your tent. Gale cradled you against him, his warm chest below your head. He stayed with you the whole night. As day broke and you had awoken you saw him there resting peacefully, though still injured he was alright and you can only assume he found something to curb his hunger. Smiling, you leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I, Stella, vow to always love you, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep." As you moved to get up, you were pulled back down into said man's chest. "And I, Stella, vow to stay by your side and love you." A couple extra minutes in bed with your loved one couldn't hurt.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(You were brewing some tea for yourself at the fire. The camp was resting for a bit before heading on the next lead for the brain.)

Y/N: A nice fresh cup of tea really solves all issues.

Gale: I beg to differ. Coffee is much better.

Y/N: How could you say such a thing that's disgusting?

Gale: (Laughing) No, it is much better than leaves from a plant.

Astarion: Gale, are you numb? Coffee is also from plants.

#x reader #bg3 #baulders gate 3 #bg3 x reader #match up #headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios x reader #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #gale

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Scrapbook: Chapter 1

Title: And Now My Bedsheets Smell Like You

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Mike x Black!OFC (Dimples)

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld

Word Count: ~2.2K

Summary: A collection of moments with Mike and Daisy (Dimples).

Chapter Summary: How Mikey and Daisy met.

Warnings: dry-humping, a very drunk secondary character, sexting

A/N: I owe Mikey after what happened in Make That Kitty Purr, so this is part of my amends. I know Mike is perpetually in his early 20s, but let’s take a leap of faith here, people! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Spotify Playlist is here.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t try and introduce you to Derrick’s roommate,” Jasmine says, checking her lipgloss in the mirror.

“Jas, I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But Derrick is terrible and any friend of his is probably equally as terrible,” Daisy starts twirling her braids around her fingers, her 5’3 frame leaning back against the sink, “So, thanks. But no thanks.”

“He’s literally out there right now waiting to meet you, Daisy.” Jasmine pleads, in the way a horny friend does.

“Fine. I’ll take him off your hands, but you owe me.” Daisy relents and allows Jasmine to lead her back into the party.

Walking back into the large crowd, Daisy regrets coming. A bunch of college kids, drunk and/or high, grinding on each other and shouting over the music to try and have a conversation. This wasn’t her speed, but she refused to have Jasmine here by herself. And if she was honest with herself, she also needed a break from reality.

“Jas! Over here!” Derrick’s booming voice travels over the crowd and Jasmine pulls her best friend over in that direction.

“Look, Mike. Her roommate is super cute, just entertain her so Jasmine and I can have some ‘quality time’.” Derrick proceeds to make a gesture with his hips that makes him wanna slap his friend.

“Fine, but please don’t ever do that again or you’ll never get laid.” Mike pats Derrick on the shoulder and takes a sip of beer looking off into the crowd before Derrick is getting his attention again.

Jasmine is now in front of Derrick, gesturing to Daisy and then to Mike. “Hi, Mike! This is Daisy. Daisy, meet Mike.” No sooner did she introduce them, were she and Derrick playing tonsil hockey.

“Seriously, guys?” Daisy steps closer to Mike and pulls him away from the two lip lockers.

“Easy, Sweetcheeks. You’re gonna pull my arm off.” Mike complains as he’s dragged to another room of the party away from the dull roar of the stereo.

“Sweetcheeks?” Daisy smiles from ear to ear, stopping in her tracks to swing back around to look at Mike. The smile makes her dimples show up and Mike smiles back.

“Look at that! Forget me calling you Sweetcheeks, you’re ‘Dimples’ from now on.” Mike blurts, his smile taking up half his face.

“Dimples, huh? I’ll only let you call me that if you can find a quiet place in here,” Mike notices Daisy isn’t enjoying the party atmosphere and nods.

“Yeah, of course,” He grabs her hand and leads her in the opposite direction to the stairs, “Follow me, Dimples.”

Daisy follows Mike up the stairs and down a hallway before being ushered into a room. A bedroom.

“Wait, Mike, if you think–” Daisy starts, but Mike cuts her off.

“Trust me, Dimples. I won’t try anything,” He crosses his heart, “Unless you want me to, that is.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he pulls a laugh from her.

“I mean, you are kinda cute. Maybe I wouldn’t get bored if you kept trying.” She winks at him and goes to sit at his computer desk.

Taking off his hoodie, he hangs it on the back of his bedroom door before sitting on his bed. “So, if you’re not really into parties, what are you doing at this one?” When Daisy whips her head around, he follows up with, “Not that I’m complaining! Just seems odd.”

“Jasmine is really pushy. And since she’s my roommate, she has the ability to bug me nonstop. Plus, she wanted to see Derrick and wouldn’t shut up about it. Plus, I feel like I’m not exactly having the ‘college experience’.” Daisy rolls her eyes and busies herself with spinning in the desk chair.

“There are tons of ‘college experiences’, ya know? Going to class hungover, finding out your limit for sleep deprivation, making out with someone you barely know at a party.” He reaches over and stops Daisy in the spinning chair before pulling her over to him.

Daisy reaches up to Mike’s shoulder to steady herself. “Ok, I’m a little dizzy but I’m sure I heard you say something about making out, right?”

“That was only to get your attention and see if you were listening to me,” Mike pokes at Daisy’s dimple and chuckles to himself when she bats his hand away, “Unless you’re interested, that is.” He bites his lip and hopes for the best.

“Maybe. I kinda like it when guys take charge. The whole pick me up and put me on the nearest surface thing is very hot. Hint hint.” Daisy winks at him and Mike’s demeanor changes in an instant.

He stands up to pick up Daisy and places her on his desk. “How’s that, Dimples?”

Daisy reaches up and tangles her fingers in Mike’s hair, pulling him down to crash their lips together. Surprised by the softness of his lips, she moans into his mouth. Taking the lead, he slides his tongue between her lips. He groans into the kiss and moves to mouth his way down her neck to suck a hickey into it.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Mike picks her back up and she does as she’s told. Latching back onto her neck, he turns around and lays them down on his bed. Leaning up on one hand, he cradles her face in the other after moving one of her braids out of her face. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s more than okay.” She pants, reaching down to grab his ass.

He growls, grinding into her and locking their lips together again. He can feel the heat coming off of her core beneath her skirt and whimpers into her mouth before he can stop himself. Resting on one forearm, he snakes a hand to her boobs. When she writhes beneath him and wraps a leg around his, he massages her breasts before using a thumb to tease her nipple through her shirt.

Pulling back from their kiss, Daisy pipes up. “Mike, as much as I love my tits played with, I kinda would love it if you moved your hand a little down south?”

Mike smiles and moves his hand to her tummy before tickling her until she is laughing uncontrollably and begging him to stop.

“What was that for?” She asks, catching her breath.

“As much as I wanna put my hands everywhere on your body, I’d much rather do that after we have our first actual date?” He does that cute little lip bite again.

“Mike, are you asking me out?” Daisy leans in to nibble at Mike’s neck.

“Dimples, you are making it hard to stay focused right now. I’m trying to…ask you out…while I still have…higher brain function.”

“I’d love to go out with you, Mike, but I have one condition.” Daisy sits up and dons a serious expression.

“Anything, just ask me and I’ll do it.” Mike runs a hand through his hair and not so subtly adjusts himself.

“Promise that we never have to go on a double date with Jas and Derrick. I don’t think I can handle their inevitable public breakup.”

Now it was Mike’s turn to laugh out loud. “Trust me, Dimples. I guarantee that we will never be available for a double date with those two. That sounds absolutely terrible and I plan on our dates being phenomenal.”

“Phenomenal, huh? That’s a tall order, Mikey.”

“Luckily, I’m tall,” He moves off the bed and stands to his full height, towering over Daisy, “And just so you know, I kinda like you so I kinda wanna impress you. Did I just say the quiet part out loud?” Scratching the back of his neck, he laughs nervously.

“It should be illegal for you to be this cute, Mikey,” She stands up on his bed and wraps her arms around his neck, “I kinda like you too, by the way.” She slots their mouths together with a smile on her face.

Picking her up and setting her down on the ground, Mike continues the kiss until there is a knock at the door. He goes to open the door to Derrick who looks both tired and excited somehow.

“Hey, man. You doing alright?” Mike probes as Derrick holds up a finger and rushes to the wastebasket next to his bed. “Well, that answers that question.”

“I should probably go and let you take care of…all that.”

“Yea, probably. But, he’ll be fine for a minute or two, come on.” Grabbing her hand, he retrieves his hoodie and steps out of the room just as Derrick retches loudly. “Here, take my phone and put your number in and I’ll put my number in yours.”

They exchange phone numbers and give each other back their phones. “Oh shit, Jas texted me earlier saying she left after a fight with Derrick.”

“I’ll walk you home, Dimples. I mean, if that’s ok?” Mike holds out his hand, which she takes with a smile.

“That sounds great, Mikey.” She stands up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Let’s get out of here.”

Mike and Daisy walk down the block to her dorm. He eventually wraps her up in his hoodie when she shivers just once. She decides she definitely likes him at that point. As they come up to the front of the dorm, some girls are outside. She spots Jasmine in the middle of the group, no doubt badmouthing Derrick and looking to be comforted.

“Something tells me the last thing that group wants to see is a man, so I’m gonna say goodbye here if that’s cool?” The look of fear on his face makes her wanna kiss it away.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Text me tomorrow?” She begins to take off his hoodie, but he stops her.

“I’ll text you tomorrow. And hold onto the hoodie,” At her confused expression, he continues, “Give it back to me on our date, Dimples.”

Her smile brings forth her dimples again and he is smitten. She pulls him down to give him a quick kiss then ends up being a bit steamier than either of them planned. Pulling back, she ruffles his hair and ushers him back down the street before the girls can see him.

Waving goodbye, he walks backward and watches her until she is out of sight.

He makes it back to his dorm. The last of the stragglers either fell asleep in the various living areas or left. Heading back up to his room, he finds Derrick sprawled across his bed having stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt.

Mike settles into his bed, pulling out his phone to text Daisy.

M: Is Jasmine still pissed at all men on the planet?

D: Probably? I came up to our room to get away from all that negativity.

M: So you’re in your bedroom…alone?

D: Yup. All alone and in sexy jammies too.

M: The urge to ask you for a pic is overwhelming.

D: Good thing you’re not asking.

D: [image sent]

M: IS THIS THE REWARD FOR NOT ASKING?

D: It’s your reward for being a good boy, Mikey. Plus it’s just me in my nightgown.

M: Yeah, but it’s a tight nightgown and you’re curvy and your nipples are poking through and I’m salivating…

D: You really like boobs, don’t you?

M: Yes.

M: Especially yours. You’re very responsive.

D: Sensitive nipples, Mikey. Just say it.

M: Fine. I like the idea that your nipples are sensitive because all I wanted to do was suck on them so I could hear your sweet little moans.

D: Fuck!

M: Just remember that when you wanna try and tease me again, Dimples.

D: So I shouldn’t mention how I’m gonna give you the most enthusiastic head the next time we hang out?

M: Fuck.

M: Ok, truce? We’re just gonna go back and forth here and I’m only so strong.

M: Having you underneath me was just too good.

D: I liked being underneath you, having you grinding into me.

M: Dimples, you’re killing me.

D: Sorry!

D: I just feel comfortable talking to you, like I can tell you all my dirty sexy secrets, and instead of judging me you’d just experiment with me.

M: Of course, I would experiment with you. I feel like I created you in a lab. You honestly can’t be this perfect.

D: Did you just reference Weird Science? That’s the sweetest nerdiest thing ever.

M: I am so turned on by you. Honestly, my dick cannot get any harder than it is right now.

D: The idea of your dick pressed up against me is back on my mind again, Mikey.

M: Would love to have you on top next time.

D: I love being on top!

M: God, you’re perfect. I can’t wait to take you out on a date and then throw you over my shoulder and bring you back to my room and have my way with you.

D: You know the way to my heart. And I’m getting tired.

M: Alright, let’s go to sleep. Dream of me?

D: As if I could do anything else. Night, Mikey.

M: Night, Dimples.

Chapter 2

A/N: The song for this chapter is Shape of You by Ed Sheeran. Yes, this will be my third ongoing series. Yes, I made the story art before I realized I would break this up into chapters. But, like, it’s Mikey with a family!! I couldn’t say no to him.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @geralts-yenn

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 (I think you asked to be tagged?)

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

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