#I wanted to add a gif where he does that lip caressing to himself while promoting some jewelry

[lilitblaukatz]

The wife, the man and the horse

[awkward-walking-potato]

NSFW Alphabet Logan

Like always my requests are open!

A - Aftercare

Logan is surprisingly attentive when it comes to aftercare. He’s always mindful of your needs, making sure you’re comfortable and content. He’ll hold you close, whispering soothing words, and won’t leave your side until he’s sure you’re okay.

B - Body Part

Logan’s favorite body part on you is your neck. He loves the way it feels under his lips, the way your pulse quickens when he kisses it. On himself, he’s proud of his hands—strong, calloused, and capable of giving both pleasure and protection.

C - Cum

Logan is primal when it comes to finishing. He’s not overly concerned with where as long as it feels right in the moment. Sometimes he prefers to finish inside, savoring the closeness, other times he likes the visual of finishing on your body.

D - Dirty Secret

Logan has a soft spot for seeing you wear his clothes, especially after an intimate moment. There’s something about the way his scent clings to you, marking you as his, that drives him wild. It’s his own way of showing possession without words.

E - Experience

Logan has had a long life with many experiences, and it shows in the way he approaches intimacy. He’s skilled, knowing exactly how to push your buttons and make you feel incredible. He’s patient and takes his time, ensuring you both enjoy every moment.

F - Favorite Position

Logan enjoys positions that allow for deep intimacy and control. His favorite is when you’re straddling his lap, either facing him or turned around, so he can guide the rhythm while having access to your entire body. He loves the closeness, the ability to see every reaction you make, and the way he can easily wrap his strong arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

G - Goofy

Logan isn’t particularly goofy in bed. He’s more intense and focused, preferring to keep the mood serious and passionate. However, there are rare moments when he might crack a dry, sarcastic remark if he feels particularly comfortable with you, but overall, he’s all about making sure the experience is as intense and satisfying as possible.

H - Hair

Logan is naturally a very hairy guy, and he doesn’t bother with trimming or shaving much. He’s got a rugged look, with a thick chest of hair and a bit of scruff on his face. He doesn’t mind if you prefer to keep things natural as well, but he’s also respectful of your grooming preferences. He actually finds it sexy when you embrace your natural state, feeling that it adds to the raw, primal connection between you.

I - Intimacy

Logan is incredibly intense when it comes to intimacy. He might not be overly verbal about his feelings, but his actions speak volumes. He’s all about making sure you feel wanted and adored. He’s the type to maintain eye contact, caress your body with a rough tenderness, and kiss you with a fervor that leaves you breathless. The connection during sex is deeply personal for him; it’s a rare vulnerability that he only shares with someone he truly trusts.

J - Jack Off

Logan isn’t the type to masturbate frequently, especially when he has you around to satisfy his needs. However, on the rare occasions he does, it’s usually because he’s been away on a mission for too long and is thinking about you. Even then, it’s more out of frustration and necessity than desire, as he much prefers the real thing. When he does, his thoughts are entirely focused on you and the way you make him feel.

K - Kinks

Logan has a few kinks that align with his dominant, protective nature. He enjoys a bit of rough play, like light spanking or being in control, but always within the boundaries of consent and safety. He’s also into primal play, where the two of you can indulge in the more animalistic side of your relationship—growling, biting, and really letting loose. Another of his kinks is marking; he likes leaving small love bites or hickeys on you, subtle reminders of his claim.

L - Location

Logan isn’t overly picky about location, but he does have a preference for places that feel safe and private. He enjoys the intimacy of a bed, where he can take his time, but he’s not opposed to more spontaneous locations, like a secluded spot in the woods or the shower. As long as he knows you’re comfortable and there’s no risk of being interrupted, he’s up for it.

M - Motivation

Logan is easily motivated by your desire for him. A simple touch, a suggestive look, or the way you call his name in that particular tone is enough to get him going. He’s also motivated by the need to feel close to you after a particularly tough day or a dangerous mission—sex becomes a way to reaffirm life and the connection between you.

N - No

Logan has a few hard limits that stem from his respect for boundaries and his own traumatic past. He would never engage in anything that involves degradation, extreme pain, or non-consensual scenarios. He’s very aware of his own strength and would never want to risk hurting you, so anything that even hints at crossing that line is a firm no for him.

O - Oral

Logan is exceptionally skilled at giving oral and genuinely enjoys it. He takes his time, savoring every reaction you have, and he’s relentless in his efforts to drive you wild. His approach is methodical yet passionate, using his rough hands to hold you in place while his mouth works wonders. When it comes to receiving, he’s equally appreciative, enjoying the sight and sensation but never demanding or expecting it.

P - Pace

Logan’s pace varies depending on the situation. He can be slow and sensual, drawing out the experience to savor every second, or he can be rough and fast, driven by pure, unrestrained desire. He’s very in tune with your needs, though, and will adjust his pace to match what you’re craving, always ensuring that you’re as satisfied as he is.

Q - Quickie

Logan isn’t opposed to quickies, especially when the situation calls for it—like before heading out on a mission or during a stolen moment when you’re both too impatient to wait. He’s very efficient and can make even a quick encounter incredibly satisfying. However, he prefers longer sessions where he can really lose himself in the moment with you.

R - Risk

Logan is a bit of a thrill-seeker and doesn’t shy away from risky situations, but when it comes to your safety, he’s very cautious. He might suggest something adventurous, like sex outdoors or in a semi-public place, but only if he’s sure there’s no real danger involved. He’s more likely to take risks in the heat of the moment if he’s confident that he can protect you from any potential fallout.

S - Stamina

Thanks to his healing factor, Logan has incredible stamina. He can go for as long as you need, and then some. He’s more than capable of multiple rounds, barely needing any time to recover between them. This means that when you’re in bed with Logan, he’s going to make sure you’re fully satisfied, no matter how long it takes.

T - Toys

Logan isn’t opposed to using toys, especially if it enhances your pleasure. While he doesn’t rely on them, he’s open to experimenting if it’s something you’re interested in. He prefers more traditional, straightforward toys—nothing too complicated or extreme. His main focus is always on ensuring that you’re enjoying yourself.

U - Unfair

Logan can be a bit unfair in bed, especially if he’s in a teasing mood. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, bringing you to the edge and then pulling back just when you’re about to tip over. He enjoys seeing you squirm and beg, taking pleasure in knowing that he’s the one driving you crazy. But he never leaves you hanging for long—he’ll always make sure you get what you need in the end.

V - Volume

Logan isn’t particularly loud during sex, but he’s very vocal in other ways. He growls, grunts, and lets out deep, throaty moans that send shivers down your spine. He’s also prone to whispering dirty talk or encouragement in your ear, his rough voice making everything he says sound even more intense. He’s more focused on listening to your reactions and responding to them, but the sounds he makes are enough to drive you wild.

W - Wild Card

Logan has a spontaneous side that comes out in the bedroom. He might surprise you with a new position, a sudden move, or a change in pace that leaves you breathless. He’s also known to initiate sex at unexpected times, like after a heated argument or in the middle of a mundane activity, turning a regular moment into something intensely passionate.

X - X-Ray

Logan is a firm believer that confidence is the sexiest thing a person can have. He’s not overly concerned with physical imperfections—he’s been around long enough to know that everyone has them. What he’s most attracted to is your attitude and how comfortable you are in your own skin. He’s the type to worship every inch of your body, making you feel like the most desirable person in the world, no matter what.

Y - Yearning

Logan’s desire for you is a constant, simmering under the surface even when you’re not in bed together. He has a deep, almost primal yearning for you that manifests in subtle touches, lingering looks, and the way he’ll pull you close whenever he can. When you’re apart for too long, that yearning intensifies, making your eventual reunion all the more passionate.

Z - ZZZ

Logan isn’t the type to fall asleep immediately after sex. He’s more likely to stay awake for a while, holding you close and enjoying the quiet, intimate moments that follow. He might run his fingers through your hair, trace patterns on your skin, or simply watch over you as you drift off. When he does eventually fall asleep, it’s always with you in his arms, a rare moment of peace for a man who’s always on guard.

[despairots]

can you write...you force miles 42 to take selfies but hes not into it but hell do anything for you?

━━━━━━━━ hey, smile!

earth42! miles morales x gn! reader. just fluff and miles being absolutely hooked for you. spanish translations my not be accurate since they’re from google translate! i always forget to add the translations at the end of oneshot so i’ll try to remember but its school so and i live in canada gasp

does anyone remember that meme with the “hey, smile!” camera shutter? cause i do and i felt like it match so giggles. anyways you must love earth 42 miles — i do too but earth 1610 still my boo.

he hated taking photos, like he really did, and most people knew that he did. but god, he must love you so much to the point where he agreed to do this with you.

miles grumbled at the constant question of, “can i take a photo of you?” from people all a like, especially you and his mother.

his hands caressed your waist, keeping you slightly away from him as you kept trying to take photos with him, “mi vida, please.” he sighed with his hands now on your face, making you look at him.

“eres cojo, miles.” you scoffed with an eye roll, “even your mom agrees, right, mrs morales?” you looked over to his mom with a smirk, she laughed at the two of you.

“[nombre] tiene razón, millas.” she placed a hand on her waist, a smile showing that she was enjoying the lovers quarrel. “mamá!” miles groaned at his mother.

you giggled, giving miles a quick peck on the lip before going over to his mother, “mrs. morales, since miles, here, doesn’t want to take pictures, wanna show me his baby pictures?”

you threw miles an evil smile over your shoulder as mrs. morales squealed in excitement, miles wouldn’t admit it but he did want to take a picture with you.

he went behind you, hugging your waist as his head was in the crook of your neck to hide the light pigment on his cheek.

“aww, he’s so cute when he was adorable.” he could technically feel the way you smiled.

“but he’s a lot cuter now.” you chuckled as you felt miles grumble into your neck, he’s accent, the way he held himself up, the braids in his hair, everything about him was photogenic.

“you guys are so cute.” mrs. morales commented, pinching miles cheek who let it happen. “take [name] to your room while i prepare dinner. es mejor que tu habitación esté limpia.”

“si mamá.” he took you by the hand, guiding you to his room, “you’re such a mommies boy.” you sat on his bed, smiling up at him as he just smirked.

that smirk, you wanted to kiss it off he’s face, your boyfriend is so cute.

“i love you so much, cariño.” miles kissed you on the nose as you glarrd at him for not kissing you directly, “not even a kiss on the lip.” the pout on your lip made you even cuter.

miles lightly chuckled, pushing you onto your back to cuddle, one of his hand caressing your cheek with love in his eyes.

“why don’t you like photos, cariño?”

“i don’t.” he always had a quick response, “then why don’t you take photos?” you propped yourself up by your elbows, “never crossed my mind, mi vida.” he grabbed you by the waist, pushing you back down and pulled you towards him to cuddle.

you smiled and grabbed your phone from your pocket, swiping left to open the camera app, taking a few photos of miles, thinking that he didn’t know.

he obviously knew but he didn’t tell you. he loved you, adored you. he spoiled you so much, whenever you two went shopping, he used his money, his card.

even if you went shopping by yourself—to be groceries or something— you’ll be using his card.

he worshipped you like angel from above that was sent down for him, and as his the prowler and possessive (even though you are too), he wouldn’t let anyone touch you, anger you.

he knew what to calm you down, make you happy, respected your needs, he wanted the best for you. after his father had died, you completely shut himself off until you came back to the city.

you giggled, miles looking over your shoulder seeing that you were sending the photos to his mother. he smiled and placed a warm, chaste kiss on your cheek.

“i love you, mi vida.”

you turned around to look at him, hands on his cheek as you placed kisses all over his face. first on his forehead, his eyelid, his nose and then a quick kiss on the lip.

“i love you too, miles.”

“no nickname?”

“i love you too, cariño.”

[megamindsecretlair]

First of all Happy New Years and how’re you doin?? I really hope you’re doin well and thriving and your loved ones are doin the same❤️

Second of all I had a thought while high that I needa get out:

Imma mess for domestic Taine. Just takin care of his woman an shit. He likes takin care of her mental load and just truly makin her feel relaxed an shit. Which brings me to his hands….he’s so beefy wit protective ass arms and he’s just ugh🤌 like imagine you had a trash ass day (school, work, family, etc) an he just caresses and massages you, tryna soften you up so youn gotta gts upset or stressed. Lights candles, brings out ya favorite oils/lotions, he even rolls a blunt for you both. He’s givin you deep tissue booty/thigh rubs and ik for a fact his strength channeled through his fingers would make me all mushy an shit….

Along that thought, he can’t help (an youn stop him) but spread ya cheeks a bit, just ta peek at ya folds, only ta see em all gushy an shit. That was a mistake because now he reeeally can’t help himself. You’re all pliable under him and he dips his fingers into ya folds “just ta taste” he tells himself. But he’s dippin into you again…and again…and again till he just says fuck it and devours you from the back. I’m talkin the messy, droolin, beard shiny a shit typa pussy eatin. You just cease to exist cuz he feels too too good. Taine is just maneuvering/manhandling your body any which way and you’re loving it, you’re loving your man. And What were you upset bout again? It’s out the window now.

Phew, glad I got that outta my system🤭

Happy New Year! Many blessings to you and ya fam! I'm getting over Covid. That is the literal devil and I'm glad to be on the other side!

And secondly...why you aint on here writing with the rest of us? Tuh. This was hot and complete all by its lonesome, you don't need me for this one, lordt!

Re-reading and re-reading all night because I, too, want that gorgeous man's big mitts on me.

If You Please

Word Count: 691

A/N: Finally a little drabble! I still write a lot but ya'll caught me on a feral night. There's no big warnings besides oral (fem receiving) and Fontaine being a horny mess. This ask was everything. Not sure if you wanted me to add to it, but couldn't help myself! Excuse me while I go re-read and re-read and re-read.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide

And Fontaine is the type to take his time because HE wants to take his time. Because HE can't keep his hands off of you. If you had a bad day? That's okay, he'll work that shit out. Had a good day? He wants to pick you up and taste the happiness from your lips.

But a particularly bad day? Oh, he already had the bath running and candles lit while you talked to him on the way home. How you wanted him to show up with a helicopter and transport you home because you were dog tired. Tiredt!

And after your bath, he does all the work. He dries you off and lays kisses all over your face and body while he towels you down. Leads you to the bed where he lays out a fresh warm towel from the dryer. Makes you lay on your back first so he can rub lotion and smell good into your deep brown skin.

Take his time to work the body cream onto your arms, shoulders, stomach. Smooth it around your breasts because he just can't resist touching you. He rubs the top of your legs, really working his thick fingers into your thighs and finding all these tension knots you didn't know were there.

Then he asks you to flip over and you are putty in his hands. Free to mold you in his arms. To play with your hips and valleys and treasure the canvas God gave him. He rubs your back and your legs. But your ass.

Fontaine is an ass man. Nothin' sweeter than seeing those two big ol' cheeks begging to be claimed by those hands of his. It's so much he can't hold it all. But he loves trying. He loves trying to cup each cheek to see how much he can hold before your ass spills over. He loves to massage your ass.

He loves to watch the grooves and dimples he makes in your ass. The little glimpses of your pussy when he spreads your cheeks are a torture all their own. Got him bricked up and mouth droolin' just from that alone. His tongue glides over his golden grills as he can remember the last time he ate you out, just last night. How pliable and verbal you were.

One little taste won't hurt right? It's your body, he wants you to feel good all over. What better stress relief, right? He wipes his hands on the towel. He can't resist digging his fingers in and suppressing a groan at finding you wet as hell. He knew his hands on you turned you on, but not like this!

Now he really can't resist bringing your sweet essence to his lips and licking his fingers. He can't stop at one taste. Once he tasted you, he had to keep diving in for more. And more until you were sighing and moaning just the way he liked.

"Too tired," you mumbled.

"Too tired to lay there, mama?" He asked.

You couldn't argue with that logic. He didn't need anything back. He just wanted to make you feel good. Making you feel good, made him feel good. And he already got his reward. He was lifting your hips, spreading you wide, and placing his mouth against your pussy and suckling like a starving man to nectar.

He couldn't help groaning and rocking his own hips into the bed, wishing he could flip you over and fuck you. But he wasn't going to be that greedy. He could give. He could give and give until you were a shaking, trembling mess beneath his tongue. Hands splayed on your ass, spreading you open and wide for him.

His nasty little slurps filled the air. His desperate pulls for air blowing against your dripping pussy. Your weak arms grasping the pillow and pulling it close while you came in his mouth. Gushing and dripping all that succulent arousal.

Well, you weren't that tired anymore. As much as you left your job bone tired and weary, unsure how you could possibly go another day, you always found solace in 'Taine's arms.

The Secret Tyrone Files - there's always more!

[zujime]

─── astarion a. x f!reader [w.c. 1k]

c.w. no sex, kisses, comfort, fluff, mentions of sex (i think once so minors dni please), astarion not really having a grasp on the emotions he's feeling, established relationship, idk where or when this is taking place...maybe after the epilogue💀

a.n. originally this was supposed to be a smut but i chose not to add that cause i finished playing the game a while ago and didn't want to just make him seem like a sex fiend so, i guess this is fluffy comfort??? wrote it on a plane a bit ago.

Silence. A pleasant silence that’s shared amongst the two of you as you find your perch adequately on the forest’s floor. The air is lavish, yet its earthy scent continues to abide. The night’s azure has never seemed so buoyant—stars glittering its alluring gloom as the serene glow of the moon accentuates both of your features, leaving you content. Though, whilst you revel in the beauty of the night, your undead companion dwells on his despair-riddled anxieties.

He’s unsure of where these feelings emanated, where the ostensibly unending abyss that found its way into his belly derived, but it’s there. Perhaps, not solely fear, but a concoction of unpalatable emotions—still, none that can be properly put into words. He flits glances at you, almost in envy as you remain like you’ve aught but a care in the world while he’s overrun by feelings he can’t even begin to comprehend. Your hands are inches from each other—merely touching—but to his dismay, they aren’t. 

He values your concern—your consideration of his privacy, but at this very moment, he yearns for your warmth—your touch—and he nearly begs for it, but the words get snagged in his throat, and that…feeling, that indescribable feeling he felt before creeps up on him.

Demur? Trepidation? He’s unsure. His forehead creases as he drowns in his thoughts, thoughts that you can virtually hear. “Astarion,” you call out, voice deficient in sonority yet still the changeless melody he’s come to love. You see his achromatic curls sway gingerly as he turns to peer at you with a hum in response. His bewildering, crimson orbs meet your heartfelt ones as you face him.

“Are you alright? I can practically hear your thoughts.” You snicker, yet the sentence remains laced with everlasting care that’s evidently conveyed by your expression. Had he not taken notice of your solicitude, he would’ve blanketed his sentiments behind a pompous remark in hopes of pacifying you, but he noticed and by the look of it, you don’t plan on simply dismissing whatever may be agitating him.

A small noise comes from his gullet—reluctance. “I—I don’t know..” he utters, almost inaudible, though he’s quick to correct himself. “What I mean is… I’m…” his mouth opens just to close as he searches for a word, a word that could properly construe what’s on his mind. However, after what feels like an eternity to him, he finds nothing. Sighing before muttering another, “I don’t know.”

Softly, you smile at him, letting your hand slink closer to his. The cusps of your fingers skimmed his well-kept nails before gradually glissading further—still cautious. He watches—body taut and breathing steady; eyes trained on your palm shrouding his while glancing up at your genial yet attentive eyes.

Your hand finally locates his bleak one, lingering lightly, granting him the opportunity to pull away if need be, but all he does is gawk at your hand over his in crudely repressed awe. It’s almost frivolous—the two of you have held hands before—hells, you’ve even had sex together, but still, the sight, the feeling of you only caressing him is enough to make his heart spur to life. His blood-red eyes are precarious but beholden; grateful that you see him—that you can hear his cries and heed them, even when they’re silent.

The husk of gratitude practically falls from his pinkish-pale lips, but he refrains, instead he tangles his hand with yours, giving it a deft squeeze before exploring your eyes, seeing if you understand his modest gesture. You do, the warm grin that adorns your face grows and shows that more than anything; you understand. And regardless of Astarion generally having something to say, you understand that in plights such as these, the words seem to slip away from him. His lack of experience in such intimacies shows to his discontent, but under your welcoming gaze, he’s all but ashamed. 

His elegant orbs strive to hold your stare, flitting amidst the tree and you—anxious. Your head tips slightly, brows raising as you try to keep his gaze, wordlessly asking “What’s wrong?”. His mouth reluctantly opens purely to close once more as he searches for the proper words. His eyebrows crinkle as he shakes his head somewhat—curls moving with him—before he opens his mouth to speak. “May I…kiss you..my love?” His voice is nearly a whisper—the shell of what his voice once was—and his inquiry is smothered in hesitance. “Is that what you want?” You catechize, not to pester him or belittle him in any way, but to ensure that he wants this.

He chuckles almost, certain of his answer. “Yes, more than anything.” A smile decorates his lips—not smugly or flirtatiously, but fondly; adoringly. His eyes soft and filled to the brim with desire and love. You nod, scooting your body closer to his, hands still interwoven while your free hand tenderly cups the soft skin of his cheek, thumbing at the skin as you take in his grace.

His other hand grasps your wrist gingerly, peering at you before he leans into your touch, letting his eyes fall shut. His breathing coming to a noticeable lull as he waits for the feel of your lips on his. Gradually, you inch your face towards his before closing the gap—before your lips find their place against his. The kiss is a little sloppy but pleasant—warm like a summer’s sun—though, on his end, laced with ambiguity. Not towards you, gods no, but himself rather. He’s kissed more than enough times. What is he possibly unsure of?

Inundating you. The last thing he seeks is to exhaust you with a love that’s been quelled and left to rot for an eternity’s end. He assumes such an influx of intense emotions may seem daunting to you, even after all the absurd things you’ve both dealt with. He’s dubious—not sure if you’ll continue to stick around when these affections are unveiled.

Yet, with a light squeeze from your hand and the compassionate caress of your thumb across his cheek, he caves. Everything embedded within him that was devised to be long forgotten, divulges into the kiss. It remains inept, practically inexperienced, but now it was…devout, filled to the brim with a fondness that’s been obscured for centuries. The palm he kept latched onto your wrist is now firmly planted beside you on the soil as he deepens the kiss with unceasing avidity.

His inhalations up their pace as he inclines further into the kiss, jaded and muffled moans reaching your ears. As lovely as this is, you can hardly breathe. Your head is reeling and it feels like this kiss has gone on for hours, but it’s only been a few seconds.

Astarion’s pale cheek grows cold as you drift your hand down to his chest, pushing him away so you can finally part for air. You’re both gasping for air—more so you than him—but still you giggle and wear that infectious smile he could never get tired of. For once, there’s life—color—in his blanched skin. His cheeks become balmy and tingly with a sensation he’s yet to put a name to.

Once you’ve finally caught your breath, you sigh. “Wow,” you chortle, your grin growing wider by the minute. “I—wow…” he quite literally took the breath out of you—and the words too. “Can you…can you kiss me again?—only if you wa-“ Before you could correct yourself, his lips capture yours anew. They’re gentle this time yet still laden with love. He’s got you in a haze, keeping your attention on his lips as he presses you onto your back, slowly and gently.

His eyelids are heavy, as well as yours as he pulls away. Heated breaths melding with one another. Crimson hues inspect yours for a moment, fanged jaws separating to speak. “Uhm…darling?” He begins, his voice isn’t audibly shaky but his eyes convey his disquiet.

“I want this, I’m sure. If this night becomes one of…well, passion, I know that I would love to indulge in you and all of your allure, but if this does lead to more—would you be alright? H-having sex with me, of course...” he asks in such a hushed tone, as if others were surrounding the two of you.

“Of course, Astarion.” You snicker faintly, nudging a stray spiral behind his pointed ear before cupping his cheek. He feels safe when he’s with you—his home; his sanctuary. He melts in your touch, pliant in your benevolent hands. His lips brush your palm as he turns his head to allot a peck on the skin before stashing his face in the crook of your neck. He has all but the intention of wallowing in the ingratiating taste of your blood. As of now, he simply wishes to cherish you and the time the gods have blessed him with at this moment.

His body abates when he feels you tenderly carding through his hair with your fingers. “Thank you” he emits, prodding at your pulse point with his nose as he finds his place. “For what?” Your tone remained benign but the confusion within it couldn’t be more apparent. Astarion goes mute for a moment, arms bandaging around you tight but not constricting you. “For...everything. I just—I don’t feel pressured, or disgusted when I’m with you,” he’s so quiet—loud enough to hear, but still so quiet, almost as if his voice longs to hide away, but he perseveres.

“With you, I feel…liberated. You view me as—you view me as a person, someone capable of thinking for themselves and not…” he falters for a bit, listening to the rhythm of your heart from your neck before proceeding. “… Not an instrument meant to carry out your bidding or something…along those lines...” His voice is weak, the vocal cracks poorly buried behind his words. “J-just…thank you.” He sighs into your skin and melts when you leave a light peck just below his pointed ear.

The gesture seems to spur him on as his stillness transcends into never-ending pecks on the junction of your neck and collar; slow wet kisses. His hands feel at the plush fabric of your shirt before sliding them beneath it in search of a warm place to shelter his touch-hungry hands. His fangs graze your skin as he kisses it, but never do they puncture you. His touch—though ravenous—is laden with the intent of ensuring something; ensuring that you’re here with him, that you’re real.

His kisses begin to trail up your jaw before snaring your lips. His thumbs rub at your sides as he revels in your serenity. His deathly cold body molds perfectly with your radiant warmth. The lids of his eyes flutter shut as he basks in it, basks in you and all that you do to him.

You make him feel…whole, as if the missing piece in his corroded life had been you and the unending hospitality you grace him with. To you, it’s human decency, but to him…it feels like much more, so much that at times he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Your heat acts as the sun’s rays that he’ll never have the courtesy of feeling on his skin—at least, only in your absence.

He longs to continue savoring your lips for an eternity’s end, longs to withstand the dizzying sensation that comes with it, but he parts—reluctantly. He pulls away and peers at you—at your lips swollen and wet from his, your eyes that gleam back into his, and your face that adorns an expression of pure bliss, something only he can bring upon you. A grin finds its place on your face as you admire him, it’s gentle as you let a hand move to push a stray curl from his face before gently caressing the shell of his pointed ear. He shudders slightly at the feeling, almost letting a pleasurable sigh escape his lips as he rests on you comfortably.

[mamuzzy-creates-stuff]

Hi there ! K, S and V for the rarepair ask game please !!

Hiiiiiiii, thank you for the ask, Hasta~ I go with OrdoMaze :3

K - If available, share a WIP of your ship (fic, art, fanvid, etc., whatever you'd like!). If you don't have a WIP available, feel free to share an idea for a fanwork you'd like to create for them.

I... actually have something angsty in my pocket. xD

Ordo looked up, like a trapped animal, feral and unyielding. Pathetic creature, Maze thought disgusted, Pathetic, pathetic daddy's boy. Daddy's boy was reluctant to hurt him in the presence of Skirata it seems, otherwise his throat would have already been torn out. Maze grabbed Ordo's chin, thick fingers made the Null look at him and he leaned closer to keep his gaze captive as well. "See if your precious daddy will love you after this" he hissed and pressed his lips to Ordo's.

Maze also has a lot of issues.

S - What do you think are their favorite activities to do together?

Maze had to realize eventually that Ordo is not that selfish as he looks. Either Maze chooses places and activities for themselves, like a museum or theatric plays, or going to restaurants because Ordo loves his stomach, or Ordo makes sure that he carefully plans a date for themselves that can make Maze content. It's not because Ordo doesn't have favorite activities (he enjoys cooking and baking), it's just he is so invested in Maze, he starts to adapt to his habits and hobbies, that he naturally starts to getting interested in them. No, he still don't find fiction interesting, nor the dramas, musicals, holomovies Maze is obsessed about, but Maze finds them interesting and that is enough reason for him to get out of his comfort zone. He wants to understand Maze.

On the other hand, Maze is convinced that maybe sex is the only common ground between them.

However Maze is actually allowed to watch Ordo cook their food (they tried to cook together once, kitchen knife ended up in armor that time). Maze is the 'what will happen when we add this?'-type of guys, while Ordo goes 'NO!!! I'M DOING THIS FIRST TIME, NO EXPERIMENTING UNTIL I KNOW HOW SHOULD IT TASTE!!!'-type of rage. Maze finds Ordo extremely cute while does this task with his usualy serious and focused face.

Ordo won't tell Maze that his perfect date is actually is just staying "at home", Maze reading in silence or loud, caressing Ordo's hair while he is napping in his lap.

V - If your ship got married, where would they go on their honeymoon and why?

Ordo is a true mandalorian at heart. If it was for him, they would just say the words, exchange armor pieces and that was it. Maze doesn't want to hear any of this. Their marriage should be something special after all. They need to make memories together!

Ordo doesn't understand the fuss about it, but when Maze states where he wants to go, he follows. Not just follows, he helps in organizing too and he is actually very proud of himself, when Maze is satisfied with the upcoming tours in nature.

Assuming they have enough budget for that I think they would choose something mild-climate planet, like Aldreaan, Chandrila, and similiar planets.

I think they realize here that there is actually something common in them. They both enjoys silent hiking in the nature (Ordo is not fan of dirt though...), doing a little camp for themselves under the stars, sleeping in a tent and falling asleep to the distant sounds of animals. Ordo especially enjoys if he has catch their own meal and doing something tasty out of it on open fire.

[marvelmaniac2000]

~Whipped Play~ (Druig x Reader)

Side notes: I feel like foreplay with food can be fun, but it sounds down right messy though… I hope everyone is having a great start of the year...

Summary: You and Druig licking each other up and down

Words: 993

Characters: Druig x Reader Smut

Subject: Oral sex, Food play w/ whipped cream, 18+ ONLY, NSFW

****Apologies for Misspelling/Grammar (Attempted to skim proof read at best)***

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

“Are you sure this won’t create a mess?” you salivated your lips.

He placed the strawberries on the aluminum foil so they could dry. You watch him in action doing crafted foods. He was bare shirtless with nothing on but his boxers. You wondered if he enjoyed the tease of showing how masculine he was…

He placed the strawberries on the aluminum foil so they could dry. You watch him in action doing crafted foods. He was bare shirtless with nothing on but his boxers. You wondered if he enjoyed the tease of showing how masculine he was…

Druig noticed you watching your every movement and couldn’t help but chuckle at your cuteness. You were damn near ready to devour the strawberries and himself combined. He gave you a playful smile and dipped his finger in the frosting.

“Open” he whispered as he placed his chocolate covered finger into your mouth. You slowly suck on his pointer finger with your eyes locked onto his. Druig groan as he slowly feel himself harden from your wet lips sucking his finger clean. You slowly pulled his finger out of your mouth before asking. “This isn’t suppose to be anything sexual remember?” you wanted this time to be personable but instead it had become another moment to fuck. There was never a chance where both of yall wasn’t able to do these types of things. But you never complained too much. Druig closed the space between you two. Your heart raced in anticipation, as you watched him unhook your silk robe to reveal your naked body. His expression skimmed your body from head to toe, as if it was the first time again. He put his finger up to gesture an idea. You roll your eyes when you see him reach inside the refrigerator to reveal a can of whip cream. A mischievous smile crept into your mouth as you gained more excitement.

“This just got more interesting,” you slivered. Druig shook the can while approaching closer to you. “Who wants to go first?” Druig voice deepened. You couldn’t help it and took the can without answering. You lowered yourself down to eye level of his crotch.

“Let’s see who does it best,” you teased. Druig took it as a challenge and remember how every moment you always gave in to his touch. His eyes looked down to see the sight of you down on your knees. He caressed your chin and looked into your wide eyes. “We’ll see about that love”

Without hesitation Druig removed his boxers and his hard on boner stood within your face. You slowly spray a line of whip cream alongside his heated member. To add more cruel pleasure to him you made sure to have extra cream on the very end of his tip. Druig flinched a little from the coldness of the substance but his dick ached watching your mouth inches away from his member. Your eyes stayed glued to his as you wrapped your lips around his deepened member to the tip. The sweet sugary taste and slickness glided up and down your man's dick.

A loud moan mustard out of him as you bob your head back and forth making sure each stroke was wetter than the next.

“Keep going” he panted. His hand held the back of your head to encourage you to go deeper. You smirk from his desperation for a faster pace. You pushed your mouth back to add more whip cream again. This second time around you added even more to intensify it. You licked the tip more to give a slight tease. Cream begins to slightly run down your mouth as you suck and lick the rest of the sweetness off the base of his dick. After you lick his throbbing member clean off, you arise from your feet to meet his gaze. Druig’s breath faintly quicken but he couldn’t cave in to your tongue doing wonders to his dick.

“That was very precious of you to think you can get over on me but I know how to make you quiver down to your bare knees and feel nothing but the numbness of your toes” He roughly picked you up and placed you on the kitchen counter. With the palm of his hands, your legs spread wide apart on the counter. Druig viciously sprayed whip cream all around your pussy. You gasped at his fast pace movement and let a moan to his mouth devouring the white fluff of cream that laid melted between your legs.

Druig watch your every move as he sucked the lips of your pussy to clean off every last drop of whip cream between your clit and folds. Your fingers brushed through his dark short raven hair feeling him insert his tongue into your opening. Druig raised his hand to squeeze one of your breast to set off you even more. You bite your lip feeling your high almost close by. Druig raised his head up and sprayed cream all over your nipples. You giggled at that sensation before he laid himself between your legs and slowly licked his tongue around your nipples until the whip cream dissolved in his mouth.

“Okay we need to stop before we won’t have any left for later” you gasped. Druig reluctantly sighed and took his weight off you. “Oh come onnnn we could’ve just bought another one, I know you wanted more I can hear it” “Even if that was the case babe,I can’t take you seriously with that cream mustache on your face” you teased.

[gildedneon]

Faking It

Summary:  This stupid game you started wasn’t going in your favor.  Somehow you had gotten on the topic of faking orgasms... of course he said there was no way he could be fooled.  So you were trying to prove him wrong.  You didn’t take into account that there was little room for faking when he makes you feel as good as he does.

Warnings: 18+, light choking, dub!sub switch, vaginal sex, cussing, talk of faking orgasms (barely)

Word Count: 900

A/N: Quick thing I wrote while I was putting off working on my main fic. Barely edited.

You slowly ride him.  He’s flat on his back, your hands braced against his chest.  This stupid bet you started wasn’t going in your favor.  Somehow you had gotten on the topic of faking orgasms and he said there was no way he could be fooled.  That’s what every guy thinks.  Challenge accepted.  The problem was that he made you feel so good.  How were you supposed to prove your point when you didn’t have much of an opportunity to fake it?

The only way you could attempt to put on a performance was if you rode him and he just laid back and took it.  So here you find yourself.  At first it was easy, you exaggerated your moans and threw your head back dramatically.  But he filled you so perfectly.  You’d have to go out of your way to not hit that spot inside you with every stroke.  It was impossible to not thoroughly enjoy yourself with him.  You figured in order to win the game, you would just have to go above and beyond to put on a performance.  

Below you, he tried to keep a neutral face.  Holding back any signs of his own pleasure.  Giving off a skeptical front.  So that would be your objective.  Crack his façade and get him to lose himself in you.  This would be fun! 

You change up your pace, emphasizing with each stroke that you were hitting that spot inside you.  Your eyes got a little more desperate with each bounce.  You slide your hands up to grasp the base of his neck with one and his face with the other.

“Fuck, you feel so good.  Every. time.  How is that possible?”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, maintaining his composure.

“God you’re so perfect.  You feel so perfect”  Swiveling your hips in long strokes to drive your point across.  You close your eyes and let a whine fall from your lips, clenching around him.  You speed up your pace and continue to flutter your walls around him, digging your nails into his neck.  Here comes your next act.  Your eyes open wide, pleading.  Staring deep into his blown pupils.  His jaw is clenched, composure slipping away as a groan catches in his throat.  You increase your speed to just about as fast as you can go.

“Please…. Oh god please” You beg and an eager look comes to his eye. His mouth falls open to exhale a curse. 

You had him right where you wanted him.  Metaphorically speaking… literally speaking you needed him to take control and fuck you.

“Please babe.  I am so close but I can’t do it.  I need you.  Please fuck me. Oh god! Make me cum.”  Laying the dramatics on thick, you start to gasp and flutter around him, moaning with need.  ‘

This was supposed to add a bit of fun but it was really turning you on.  It didn’t feel like an act anymore.  The desperation was surging through your body.  His hands come up to caress your face, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip.  

“Lay back baby, I’ve got you.” He says in a rough voice.

You do as you're told and he sits up to settle between your legs, sliding a pillow under your ass.  Your legs fall to the side, shaking, parting for him as he enters you.  His fingers dance along your calves before he picks them up, pulling your legs together tight in his grip.  One arm is wrapped around your shins, holding them to one shoulder, the other at your hip to guide his thrusts.  You feel impossibly tight around him and by the look on his face, you are.  The angle, the pressure, stroking your desire and your rapidly approaching climax.  Your legs pulled tight against his lean torso.  The way his cock is pushing into you and pulling out with a delicious drag.  

“How do I feel?  Hmm?”  His words punctuated with a few hard and slow thrusts.  Your hips writhe against him and his grip digs into your hip bone.

“So fucking good ah please! I’m so close.”  Your hands fist in the sheets, desperately searching for an anchor.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you”  His hand moves from your hip to slide into your folds, circling your clit just the way you like. Your cries become more fevered as you feel the build up of your orgasm.  His steady strokes, angled just right, hitting even that spot deep inside of you.

Your legs try to separate, your impending orgasm taking over your body, but he holds strong against your wriggling.  That sensation of restraint tipping you over the edge, sending you shuddering around him.  Not long after, he is pulling out and thrusting himself between your thighs, spilling himself onto your stomach.  You lay there trying to catch your breath and the sight of him sends you into more shock waves of pleasure.  His head rests against your legs as he steadies himself, peppering little kisses on your skin.  

“I think I lost.  I definitely didn’t fake that…” You laugh.  He fixes you with a strange look.

“You definitely lost.  I faked mine.”  He keeps a straight face as you giggle.

“You’re a dork.  You know that right?” Looking down at the messy evidence on your torso.

“Yeah but that’s why you love me!” He says with a kiss to your forehead.

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 11 - Part XI - The Sixth Year (Part One)

gif was made by @abimess

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. Chapter Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, minor kissing.

A/N> In the previous chapter I said that maybe I would put the fic in Hiatus, and on Saturday I managed to write four chapters. So I believe I'll be able to finish everything by next weekend. Good reading everyone.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Part XI - The Sixth Year (Part One)

Everything is different now.

You can feel it in your bones. You can feel it in the air, in the room, in the way your butler won't leave the radio playing on the kitchen counter because the music has been replaced by news of disappearances all over the magical and non-magical community.

Even now, sitting at the kitchen table while everyone is eating their breakfast beside you, you find it hard to relax. Jarvis doesn't have to turn the radio back on for you to know how things are going on outside the protected gardens of the Stark mansion.

"I've already prepared the fireplace, Mister Tony." Announced Jarvis next, his hands on his back. Your brother murmured, still in the middle of sipping his coffee.

"Thank you, Jarvis." He then spoke, placing the cup on the table. "I'm expecting mail, if Iron comes back with anything, save it for me okay?"

"Of course, Mr. Tony."

"Jarvis?" You called out before your butler returned to the kitchen. He looked gently at you. "Aren't you going to have breakfast with us?"

The man hesitated, straightening his suit vest slightly.

"I've already eaten, miss. But I appreciate the invitation." He says making mention of turning around, you add quickly.

"Where are you going?"

There it is again. The tension you have noticed since you returned from the hospital. Caught in the way Jarvis looks quickly at Tony and your sisters before a smile that doesn't reach his eyes forms. He clears his throat lightly.

"I have my chores, miss." He answers politely. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Is the order, isn't it?"

As soon as the words escape, silence falls on the table. Gamora stops stirring her tea in mid-motion, but you keep your gaze on Jarvis.

"Miss Stark, please, I mustn't be late." He insists and you sigh, nodding. Jarvis walks away, but the table remains silent. You have your fists clenched in your lap, waiting.

And realizing that just as before, when you began to notice the rushed exits, the whispers, the locked doors, and the hiding spells, you realized that none of your siblings would say anything.

So you rolled your eyes and stood up, throwing your napkin on the table and walking out of the kitchen with hard steps.

Tony called out to you, but you ignored him. Gamora reached you when you were already in your room.

"If you've come to tell me there's nothing going on, you can leave." You let her know sitting up in your bed, your mind working on theories. Gamora sighed lightly.

"I'm not." She says as she moves closer to sit beside you. "But I can't tell you everything either."

"All summer, Gamora." You begin. "All summer you guys have been keeping secrets from me. And damn it, I've done it for a long time, and I understand. But I thought...I thought after last year, things were going to change. Everybody knows about the prophecy, and I'm still dealing with it alone."

"You are not alone." She retorts as she straightens up in bed, turning her body toward you, but you continue to stare at your lap. "You're not. We're just trying to protect you."

You give a short laugh.

"I'm not, really, you're right." You sneer bitterly. "I only have Wanda and she is more than enough."

Gamora sighs, but does not contradict you. You stand up looking for a change of clothes.

"Are you going to her house again?" Gamora asks as she sees you rummaging through the closets. You don't face her to speak.

"I don't get lied to in the Maximoff residence."

Gamora rolls her eyes.

"You've barely stayed home this summer." She complains. "We've missed you."

"Ironic you say that since when I am here you guys are having secret meetings without me." You retorted angrily, putting your pajama set into a backpack.

“Y/N…” she starts but doesn't continue. You feel frustrated and impatient, and you roll your eyes at her lack of honesty.

"See you tomorrow." You say before leaving with the backpack.

You went straight to the living room, and ignoring the questioning look from Tony and Nebula at the kitchen table, you made your way to the fireplace.

Before you used the floo powder, Tony was calling you.

"You know you still leave here, right?" He quipped, and you resisted the urge to start a fight.

You stumbled into the fireplace, the magic dust in your hands. Within seconds, you were in the living room of Maximoff Residence.

"Wanda, your girlfriend is here!" Pietro yelled as he turned his attention to the pages."Again." He muttered softly making you giggle as you walked out of their fireplace.

You stepped closer only to shove the magazine he was holding to his face in a childish act and ignore his irritated grunt as you kicked off your shoes, knowing Erik hated getting his carpet dirty.

You had gotten quite comfortable at Maximoff Residence this summer. After St.Mungus, you and Wanda have been spending a lot of time together.

Part of you knows it's because you've been kept out of order, and it's created a nervous tension between you and your siblings, Wanda's house being the only place where no one seems to keep things from you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your girlfriend's sudden presence in the room, and you had two seconds to smile at her before Wanda steps forward from the hallway towards you, her arms around your neck in a tight hug. You felt your face heat up, but soon she was pulling away to place several kisses on your cheeks, making you giggle shyly as Pietro mimicked vomiting noises.

"My god, it's ten in the morning." He complained while getting up, but you ignored it, your hands rubbing Wanda's back as you looked at her adoringly.

"Good morning my love." You greeted her.

"Good morning sweetheart" She replied, looking at you the same way. "To what do I owe this wonderful visit?"

"I missed you."

"I missed y..."

"This is too gay for ten in the morning." Pietro complained loudly again, now walking past you into the hallway and turning into the kitchen as you and Wanda giggled.

“"Have you had breakfast yet?" She asked, bringing her hands to your cheeks, caressing your skin.

You mumbled yes, omitting the part that your meal was interrupted by a little argument to steal a peck from Wanda, who bit her lip when you moved away.

She turned her head to look down the hall for a second and then moved forward, kissing you firmly this time. You smiled against her lips, melting as her hand gently scratched the back of your neck.

She pulled back a moment later, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

"Come say good morning to my dad before he comes to get you himself." She asked as she pulled away, her hand intertwining with yours to pull you towards the kitchen.

As soon as Erik saw you, he put the paper down on the table and smiled, waving for you to sit down, and you did it shyly, Wanda following you.

"It's good to see you, Miss Stark." He says. "Hope everything is alright at home?"

"Probably not since she's always here now." Pietro scoffs before you respond and lets out an exclamation of pain when Wanda hits him in the head with a small wave of energy. Erik shoots her a disapproving look but says nothing.

You get caught up in small talk while you eat together, and you're more aware of Wanda's presence than anything else, but Erik calls to you.

"Will you join us in the diagonal alley?" he asks curiously and you bite the inside of your cheek, uncertain.

"Actually, Tony asked me not to go out in public." You say. "Because of everything that's going on."

"Oh yes I understand." Erik says thoughtfully. "I was in the alley last week, and most of the stores are closed. People are scared, and crime increased considerably with the return of the walkers."

The mood at the table changes, but you feel your body relax with Wanda's hand on your knee.

"What has the order done about it, sir?" You ask and Erik frowns slightly in surprise.

"Forgive me Miss Stark, I assumed your brother was telling you about the delicate situation the order is in, so I didn't mention anything." He says and straightens his posture in the chair. "We believe there is a traitor among us."

You look at him in surprise, as do his children. Erik takes a deep breath.

"Of course any of you shouldn't worry about that." He says. "That's a matter for the members."

"Fury recruited my brother, sir?" You question and Erik hesitates, then nods. You feel your stomach sink. Tony didn't tell you about it. "And my sisters?"

"No. Not them." He quickly denies it. "We voted to add new members, and it needs to be a unanimous decision. I don't approve of adding children to order."

"But you approve Tony?" You accuse with a frown.

"Your brother is of legal age, Miss Stark." He argues. "He is a powerful, resourceful, and talented wizard. He has the right to fight if he wishes."

"He's only two years older than me." You retort. "I don't want him to be in danger."

"He insisted." Erik tells you. "He insisted because he wants to protect you. I had my doubts about that, due to his age, but he asked for my vote. He wants to help."

You swallow the urge to cry, absorbing the teacher's words.

"Jarvis too, right?" You ask and Erik takes a sip of coffee before answering.

"I must not share the order's membership list." He comments lightly jokingly, but you grimace. Erik sighs. "We are trying to keep it as a secret as much information as possible. The situation is too tense with the ministry, and with so many attacks, we are not knowing who to trust."

"You haven't said anything about this all summer, papa." Pietro comments thoughtfully. "Why now?"

Erik swallows hard, putting the mug down on the table.

"Because Wanda is going to Hogwarts next week, and I won't be there to keep her safe."

You can feel Wanda's surprise and anxiety mix with yours, and your hand rests in hers on your knee.

"What are you talking about?" Wanda questions and Erik takes a deep breath.

"I will not be returning to the castle this year." He says. "The ministry ordered my removal."

"What?" The three of you exclaimed together and Erik gestured lightly for you to calm down.

"There are many rumors about the Ministry of Magic's involvement in the rise of Mephisto. The facilities that were granted to the walkers, in addition to the encouragement of the propaganda of purity of blood." He counts. "What happened at the ministry, with you two, created quite a problem for the minister. He can't blame Harkness because she disappeared, but it was only a matter of time before he found out that I was the one who recommended the special classes with her."

"But you were helping us!" You exclaimed indignantly. "And you're on the side of order!"

"Exactly, Miss Stark." He says. "I'm afraid the minister's interest is just that. To remove all members of the order from the castle."

"Papa, what will happen to you?" Pietro asks worriedly, but Erik smiles, giving him a reassuring look.

"Do not worry." He says. "They'll do an investigation, and the minister will prolong my removal as long as he can. In the meantime I'll help the order. Our priority is to finish off Mephisto's brute strength before he regains all his followers."

"What will happen at the castle this year?" Pietro questions worriedly, and you and Wanda share his expression. Erik taps his fingers on the table lightly.

"I have my suspicions, but all the possibilities are bad." He declares. "But Wanda will have professor Stephen and Maria there. Don't hesitate to reach out for them."

"That's not very comforting." Pietro mutters and Erik flashes his son a sad smile.

"But I guarantee that whatever happens at Hogwarts, it will be better than the outside." He says. "None of you have experienced a wizarding war before.Believe me when I say that the backyards of the school are safer, no matter how awful they seem to be."

Pietro sighs.

"I am worried, Papa." He says. "Wanda will be there alone."

You frown. "Hey!"

Pietro gives a short smile. "You know what I meant." He clarifies. "I won't be there, and neither will you. I don't understand why she can't stay home."

"Because it's more dangerous here." He comments. "The only reason you're not coming back to the castle is because of your small act last year, Pietro."

Pietro looks away, grimacing at Erik's disapproving tone. All the times you've been here, the topic of Pietro dropping out of school always made Erik grumpy and created a nervous tension between him and his son.

Erik clears his throat.

"Since you have decided that you will not become a competent wizard, I expect you to help me during this period." Erik declares causing you and Wanda to exchange a look, uncertain about getting into the conversation. Pietro rolls his eyes. "I'm sure your Aunt Raven has some task to keep you busy."

"Of course, papa." Pietro mumbles wryly, laying his face in his arms on the table.

Erik sighs before turning his gaze back to Wanda and you.

"We may be at war now, but your education is still important, my dear." He says. "I wanted to make sure you got your N.E.W.T. We're going to need good witches for when this is all over."

Wanda smiled shyly, and you fell silent again. Your head was a mess, millions of possibilities about the next year flashing by and noticing your nervousness, Wanda excused herself to the table, and led you by the hand out of the kitchen.

She smiled at you in the hallway, but only stopped walking when you two reached her room.

"You're nervous." She commented as she gently pushed you onto her bed.

You sat down, and Wanda settled into your lap, your hands automatically going to her waist as she hugged you. You sank your face into her neck, breathing in her perfume deeply and feeling your whole body relax at once, becoming slightly dizzy with how comfortable you felt.

"I love you." You whispered against her skin, and Wanda pressed you tighter against her, making you fall back against the mattress with a giggle. With her lack of response, you began to caress her back, feeling her breath against your neck.

When she pulled away, she got off you, throwing herself on the bed next while biting back a smile.

"What?" you asked, curious by her expression. She shook her head slightly, her cheeks flushed.

"I just think I have never felt as happy as I do when I am with you."

You smile at the confession, feeling your heart race as you turn your body toward her, resting your face in your hand and your elbow on the bed.

Your fingers come up to her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes to place behind her ear, as she looks at you adoringly.

"What am I going to do without you next year, huh?" you ask, causing her to giggle a little, as she reached up to rest her hand on your waist.

"Do you think we'll be able to talk through thoughts by then?" She jokes putting on a mock expression, making you laugh.

"I wish I had that now, so you could help me with my exams." You retort in the same tone, making Wanda laugh.

"I can help you with some actual studying for your exams." She suggests and you raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, because study sessions work out very well for us, don't they, Miss wandering hands?" You tease and Wanda smiles mischievously bringing your faces closer together.

"It's not my fault you're irresistible." She whispers before kissing your lips softly. You both sigh, but just as you go to deepen the kiss, Pietro is entering the room and Wanda lets out a grumble as she pulls away and sits on the bed.

“Can I help you Pietro?” Wanda asks impatiently.

"Can you let go of your girlfriend for a second to talk to your brother?" He teases causing Wanda to roll her eyes, but you giggle, settling comfortably on the bed. "I need to tell you both something."

"Then stop the suspense and just tell us." You grumble, wishing you would go back to kissing Wanda.

Pietro checks the hallway, then closes the bedroom door. You and Wanda frown.

"I think there's something important going on in the order." He declares. "But I have no idea what it is."

"That's not very reassuring." Wanda mocks making you laugh and Pietro grimaces. " What gave you this idea anyway?"

"Dad's been getting owls." He counters. "You haven't noticed anything strange because you're making out all the time."

"Jealous." Wanda teases, making you laugh, but Pietro rolls his eyes sighing impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys are cute and all, but you don't seem to be noticing the rest of the world." He complains, crossing his arms. "We have a war going on and all you girls are doing is kissing each other."

Wanda sighs, getting up.

"And we'd like to get back to that, so you can leave." She complained pushing her brother by the shoulders, while you laughed at the indignant expression he made while complaining that that was an important matter.

Wanda ushered him out, and locked the door, turning to you with a mischievous grin.

"Where were we?" She asked as she approached, and all you did was open your arms for her to jump into your lap again.

You knew that this was indeed an important matter, but you couldn't focus on much else as you had Wanda on your lap kissing your mouth eagerly, her tongue sliding into yours as her hands squeezed your shoulders gently.

You kissed so many times that summer, but it seemed to get better, and more and more addictive. You had no idea if it was because you were connected to her, or if it was because you were in love, but either way, you didn't want to stop.

But then the door was opening again, and Wanda let out a grumble as she jumped away from your lap, trying to disguise her smudged lipstick and swollen lips.

"Girls, you know the rules." Erik warned with a serious tone. "The door must always stay open."

"Yes, sir." You and Wanda muttered breathlessly, and Erik rolled his eyes before leaving. When his footsteps became distant, you and Wanda began to giggle, and you fell beside her on the bed, both of you trying to normalize your breathing and disguise how affected you were by the little make-out session.

In the silence, Wanda intertwined your hands together, but you both continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Do...do you think Pietro might be right?" Wanda asked next, her voice low. You shifted your gaze to her, waiting for her to clarify. Wanda swallowed dryly before doing so. "About this. About us not paying attention to the war or anything else. I just...I'm afraid he's right."

You straightened to turn your body toward her properly, resting your head on the hand of the arm that you popped your elbow on the mattress. Wanda copied your movement, and you smiled at her as you moved your fingers up to caress her face.

"I think it's unfair for Pietro to say that." You say. "Every time I've tried to bring up order, war, or anything related to that, I've been called a child. So I think it's unfair that just because I'm focusing on the most important part of my life I get called out for it."

Wanda's eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushed.

"You think I'm the most important part of your life?" She asked shyly, making you smile.

"Of course you are, Wanda." You reply as if it were obvious, squeezing her reddened cheek and making her laugh. "My little grumpy witch."

Wanda rolls her eyes, grabbing a fistful of your shirt to pull you close, and give you a lingering kiss. You smile against her lips, and when she pulls away she keeps her forehead pressed against yours.

"I love you." She whispers with her eyes closed. "I love you so much I think I'm going to suffocate."

You sigh, feeling her emotions. She feels love, vibrant, pulsing. You think you might cry if you don't keep your eyes closed.

"I know." You whisper back. "It's like you can't put all the love out, no matter how hard you try."

"Does that scare you?" Wanda asks, her hand coming down on your waist. "Us? How intense it feels?"

You let out a short laugh.

"Scare me?" You retort. "It's the only thing that secures me."

Wanda sighs, pulling away to look at you. You smile, your hand on her cheek, caressing her skin with your thumb.

"You, Wanda Maximoff, are the only certain I hold on to." You confess. "You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. My love for you is the only thing I am sure I never want to lose."

Wanda's eyes are watery, but you know they are tears of happiness. You can feel it too. And you don't need her to say it back to you to know either.

"I can't lose you." She whispers as she lets the tears flow. "I won't survive."

"I'm not going anywhere, Wanda." You assure by looking into her eyes, but she swallows dryly, unable to hold back her tears. You feel her despair, you want to get these feelings out of her, but you don't know how. You hold her tightly, and Wanda lies against you.

When she opens her mind to you, you understand. She still thinks of you in the dungeons of the castle. She shares her insecurities, and her traumas. You take it all in, and the grip tightens. You also begin to cry when she stops sharing.

"I'm sorry." You tell her, and repeat it a few times until she stops crying. When she does, you're both exhausted, and she just pulls away to straighten up, her face buried in your neck, inhaling your perfume.

"Stay with me." She asks against your skin, and you smile with your eyes closed.

"I will." You whisper against her ear. "I will stay forever."

//-//-//-//-//

Hogwarts feels different.

Although the trip to the castle was the same as other years, there is a different tension in the air.

The train was also considerably emptier.

Not that you noticed it so much, Wanda's presence being your complete focus. Your sisters' teasing about it making you ignore your surroundings even more just to look at Wanda.

And when you all arrived at the castle, everything seemed even worse than last year.

"Are those dementors?" Gamora asks in surprise as you all are walking down toward the carriages. You notice the buzzing around the train, the other students also noticing the creatures flying over the castle in the distance.

Wanda's hand intertwined in yours is the only thing keeping you calm.

Before you can show any reaction, Drax, the fighter guard is shouting for everyone to hurry, that it was not safe to stay outside, and you were pushed along with the crowd inside the vehicles.

"What the hell is going on with this place?" Nebula asks as the carriage starts to move.

"I don't know, but having Dementors back in the castle is definitely not a good sign." Wanda comments looking out the window.

The silence of the drive to the castle is filled with speculation about the changes at the beginning of the year, and none of you are excited for Professor Kaecilius' continuing direction. Nobody seems happy with the absence of Professor Erik on the faculty either.

You don't miss the opportunity to tease Gamora about her boyfriend not coming back to Hogwarts this year, but it backfires when she scoffs that not everyone needs to be together all the time like you and Wanda to date.

When you finally arrived, there were aurors in almost every corridor of the castle now, but they were shabby-looking wizards you had never seen before, and no sign of Carol Danvers.

As soon as you made mention of joining the Slytherin table, one of them put his hand in your way.

"Each student must join their house at the opening ceremony." Said the wizard seriously, and you frowned.

"That's ridiculous." You retorted impatiently, taking a step forward. The wizard drew his wand and you widened your eyes in surprise, automatically covering Wanda with your body.

"I won't say it again." Warned the man, and you were ready to duel, but Professor Strange seemed to have emerged from the floor, and touched your shoulder quickly.

"Miss Stark, please, let's all calm down." He ordered, and you grimaced in indignation. The small scene was already attracting the attention of the students who were entering the hall.

"Tell the student to go to her assigned table or she will be punished, professor." Warned the auror and you clenched your jaw, taking a step forward, but Wanda squeezed your hand pulling you back.

"Please, everyone in your seats right now." Strange said. "Let's not start the year with a fuss, okay?"

You ignored Stephen to look at Wanda, who let go of your hand to gently smooth your cloak, moving closer to kiss your cheek, and whisper in your ear "I love you." before turning away, smiling shyly as she turned to the Slytherin table and left.

You sighed, exchanging an angry look with the auror before walking over to the Hufflepuff table, Mantis behind you.

The year's announcements were even more absurd.

"[...] As many of you may have known this summer, as per the announcements of the Daily Prophet, I will be taking over as headmaster of Hogwarts." Announced Professor Kaecilius with a polite smile that made you roll your eyes. Your attention immediately returned to the Slytherin table, and you already found Wanda looking at you.

When your gazes meet, she blushes, quickly turning away, and making you smile.

"Hey, that sounds important." Mantis commented beside you, noticing that you were distracted, exchanging glances with Wanda across the hall.

You mumbled, pretending to pay attention to the director.

"It is clear that this will be a difficult year for us, and typically adverse until the Ministry of Magic faces the dangers beyond this castle." Kaecilius commented and you frowned, finally paying attention to the speech. "It is to prioritize the safety of the students, I have been in contact with the minister of magic himself, and new conceptions have been allowed this year to properly prepare the students for the dangers of the wizarding world."

The hall shared some buzz, but the professor just cleared his throat, continuing to speak.

"This year we will be accompanied not only by the guards of Azkaban, but also by a team of special aurors, sent by the minister himself to ensure the integrity of the castle and the safety of our students. " Kaecilius said, motioning in the center of the hall. "In addition, a change was necessary in the curriculum of this school, due to the disfavor the old direction caused in the education of all of you."

"That doesn't sound good." Mantis whispered beside you.

"I'm sure it isn't." You whispered back, looking at the principal.

"The importance of teaching without ideological barriers has been reassessed, and the minister has decided that freedom is a crucial point in the education of our society." Kaecilius announced, holding out his arms. "Classifications like right, or wrong, are... backwardness. We, as a free society, need to evolve. And we are going to start that here. With our young people."

You're not sure if it was an auror or one of the teachers who applauded first, but soon the hall followed, more out of cordiality than anything else. You did not, nor did Mantis, or any of your friends, and neither did some of the other students.

When dinner was served, you felt too concerned to feed yourself, but Mantis poked you in the ribs.

"What do you think all that speech meant?" She asks and you stir your steak with your fork, sighing before answering.

"Don't you think it's obvious?" You ask rhetorically. "They're going to teach dark magic."

Mantis's eyes widen in surprise, but you feel tired. You want to go back to where Wanda is.

But then Peter Parker is speaking.

"Did you hear what some of the Gryffindors are saying about Minister Schmidt's aurors?" he asked and you and Mantis both deny with your heads. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "They are called the Red Skulls. They were a task force in the first war. And they weren't on the right side."

You become apprehensive at the information. It's as if Hogwarts is being controlled by the wrong people now. You really have no appetite after that. So all you do during dinner is listen to the parallel conversations between your housemates and your friend.

You wished Harley had come back to Hogwarts this year, but she wrote to you over the summer saying that just like Ivy, she would study magic from home now. You missed her lightness when you had to listen to Peter's nervous comments.

As dinner ended, you hoped to join Wanda, but the aurors controlled the lines back to the dormitories, wands in hand.

You clenched your jaw, feeling frustrated and angry as soon as you made mention of leaving the line and the same auror from earlier appeared.

"Let's not do that again, Stark girl." He warned and you held your wand in your robes, staring at him angrily.

"A word, Stark?" Professor Strange interrupted again, appearing beside the auror. He touched the wizard on the shoulder. "Please, Mr. Klaue, I will escort Miss Stark back to the Hufflepuff dormitory when we're done."

The minor wizard stared back at you before turning his attention back to the line and Stephen gestured with his head for you to accompany him out of the hall.

You walked to the corner of the entrance, and Stephen leaned slightly toward you.

"How are things, Stark? Did you have a good summer?" He asked, making you frown.

"The best." You replied dryly. " Everything was awesome until I came back and some jerk kept me from seeing my girlfriend."

Stephen sighed lightly, looking at the rest of the rows that were moving away, the hall quickly becoming empty.

"I'm sorry about that. I wish things were different, but they won't be for long." He says, practically whispering. You cross your arms, annoyed at the way the aurors in the distance are clearly watching you and Stephen talk.

"What the hell is going on in this place anyway, professor?" You ask irritated.

"The same thing that's going on outside." He replies. "Miss Stark, I won't have as many opportunities to talk to you this year. So I'll say it now. Be careful. Not like the years before, going out at night and sneaking out of the castle. No. Hogwarts will not be the same this year. You, as well as your friends, must be careful."

You frowned, but softened your expression as you noticed the pure concern on Strange's face. But before you could say anything, he was looking away and there was an auror beside you.

"Students should return to their dormitories after dinner." The man announced, already grabbing your arm and making you let out a mixed exclamation of surprise and anger.

"There's no need for that." The professor immediately interfered, releasing the man's grip, who took a step forward.

"I would be careful with secrets, Mr. Strange." Warned the wizard. "You don't want to be tried for treason, like that mudblood, do you?"

Strange clenched his jaw, and you think you've never seen him so angry.

"Do not threaten me, Mr Stane." Stephen retorted, and you swallowed dryly as you saw the wizard grab his wand on his belt, but he didn't draw it. The wizard just laughed wryly and made a noise with his mouth, like a whistle, to get you to walk.

You exchanged a look with the professor before doing so, hurrying to keep up with the end of the Hufflepuff line.

//-//-//-//-//

You were too worried to sleep.

And nothing had happened, but just the fact that you knew things were different made you uncomfortable and worried about Wanda's safety.

You had your cloak, and ignoring Strange's instructions, you waited for everyone to be asleep before leaving the dorm, completely invisible in the dark.

Aurors were making rounds through the halls, much more than before. And there were many more wizards, and you didn't know where they seemed to come from.

You thought it best to put a spell on your shoes so they wouldn't make noise, and so you passed through the corridors quietly.

At the portrait door your troubles began.

"Hey buddy, let me in." You warned the painting, which grumbled as it was woken up, squinting and then assuming a stern posture.

"Get out of here, blood traitor!" Retorted the painting causing you to frown.

"Say that again and I will rip you apart!" You angrily warned, but the painting gave a mean little laugh and then began to shout.

"Student out of bed, student out of bed!" His high-pitched voice echoed in the halls, and you hurried to cover your head with your cloak again, feeling your heart race when you heard footsteps approaching through the halls.

You started to run, and only stopped when you were far enough away.

And then you realized where you were again.

You remember the path from your nightmares.

Swallowing hard, you take a step back, but you bump into the wall.

It is the entrance to the dungeon where Agatha took you.

Nothing looks different, you wonder if the ministry even went in there.

You feel your stomach turn, and your heart is racing even more. The memories of what happened come back all at once, but you close your eyes, taking a deep breath and pushing them away.

You are safe.

And you walk away from that corridor quickly, feeling suffocated.

And then you bump into someone, trip over the cloak, and fall to the floor.

"Interesting choice of destination, Miss Stark." Professor Kaecilius comments as you swallow dryly, looking at him while you are still on the floor. He keeps his hands in his pockets."I was hoping for a more mature attitude in your sixth year, but clearly that was a mistaken expectation."

"Sorry, professor, but I'm still sleepwalking." You retort getting up, and are surprised that he gives you a wry smile. You feel nervous then, because he is now so comfortable at Hogwarts that he feels free to laugh at your jokes.

"I should have predicted that you would come back to this place." He then says, looking toward the room for a moment before returning his gaze to you. "If you had asked permission, perhaps I would have conceived."

You clench your jaw, not knowing exactly how to escape this confusion. Professor Kaecilius assumes a stern expression next.

"I don't care for the unruly way that Agatha conducted this school, but I assure you that it will not be the same manner in which I will conduct it." He says and with a flick of his right hand, the fallen invisibility cloak closes and jumps on his arm. You swallow dryly, but say nothing. "Adjusting to the new curriculum will take up most of your routine during this week, but you must learn to value the rules. Your detentions will take place on Saturdays for the next three months."

"Three months?" You exclaim in shock, and Kaecilius sighs.

"Perhaps four would be more appropriate, you have a bad track record."

You bite your tongue, holding back from cursing your teacher.

" Follow me to your dormitory, Miss Stark." Says the professor next, already starting to walk. "We don't want any more incidents, do we?"

The path is silent, but there is a nervous tension.

At the door, Professor Kaecilius turns to you.

"I would sleep now, if I were you, Miss Stark." He warns. "It takes discipline to become a competent witch, and sleep will not be an acceptable excuse for failing your classes."

You frown, but the professor waves, and you walk into the dormitory, the doorframe closing behind you.

Just as you reach your room, Mantis is opening the curtains on her bed.

"Where the hell have you been?" She asks worriedly as you take off your shoes to lie down.

"Wanda." You grumble before throwing yourself onto the mattress, sinking your face into the pillow. Seeing your dissatisfaction, Mantis sits up in your bed, poking you lightly in the ribs.

"What happened?" she asks and you sigh in frustration. When you tell her what happened, she has a mixed expression of concern and annoyance.

"I'm sorry about the cloak." She says. "And well, about the detention too."

"It's okay." You mumble. "I just wanted to see my girlfriend."

"I'm sure she's fine." Mantis says, and seeing your grimace she giggles. "Can't you feel these things? If you're not sensing anything, she's asleep, right?"

You sigh, nodding. Mantis is right. You just miss her, but other than that, you don't have any chills or anything. Wanda is safe.

"Thank you, Mantis." You say shyly, playing with the threads of the pillow. "Sometimes, I don't remember that, and I worry for nothing."

"It's okay." She says. "That's how it is when you love someone."

You smile and Mantis gives you a wink before getting up, and returning to her own bed.

"Now, let's go to sleep please, I'm thinking we're in for a busy week." She comments and you murmur in agreement.

You are afraid that " busy" is not the best adjective to define it.

//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout

[inkyblinders]

Dancing with the Devil

Pairing: Luca Changretta X Reader

Author’s note: So excited to share my first fic on this blog! I’m still trying to figure out the ins and outs of Tumblr as it’s been a hot minute since I’ve last used it, but if you like my writing please repost and follow for more :)

The story (part one of many, hopefully) is set in early Season 4 and is in second-person, but you’re also a character with a name.

And in case you can’t tell...I think Luca Changretta is criminally underrated.

Warnings: Some mild smut.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is a stranger in the Garrison tonight.

He isn’t a shipyard laborer, neither tired nor grimy from the perpetual muck that belongs to Small Heath. In fact, he is more polished and well-dressed than anyone you’ve ever seen, except for perhaps the Shelby brothers who frequent the Garrison.

But this man is no Peaky Blinder.

He leisurely surveys the customers in the pub, eyes obscured by a fedora that slants on his head. An unlit cigarette hangs between thin lips. It’s a halfhearted attempt to blend in, as if he’s doing this as a courtesy but cares not in the slightest if he rouses suspicion.

You are used to breaking up bar fights and mopping up the bloody aftermath, but this man makes you more uneasy than any roughhousing drunkard you’ve dealt with. He is too quiet, his eyes too sly.

“This must be the trouble Tommy was expecting,” you think to yourself.

When he catches your gaze from behind the bar, a hawk-like smile cuts across his face. He winks then, and you flush even as something dangerous spikes in your throat. The whiskey you hold in your hands is just like his. Another prop, another facade.

“Anything else for you then, sir?”

He looks up from beneath the brim of his hat. His face is slyly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a striking nose you crave to run down lightly with your fingers. Now you understand why he tries to keep himself hidden.

Here is a face that, once seen, would not be soon forgotten.

A tilt of his head, a voice as like raw silk as you shiver.

A tilt of his head, a voice as like raw silk as you shiver.

“Your daddy owns this place?”

So he’s not from Birmingham, after all. Every man within a fifty-mile radius knows who owns the Garrison. They might have never met the man, but they certainly know the name of his younger brother.

“No sir, he doesn’t.” Your voice is carefully polite but clipped, praying it doesn’t betray the pounding of your heart as you watch him take off his hat and run a hand through dark, slicked-back hair. You’ve seen Tommy talk like this with men he mistrusts, and he mistrusts a lot of men. No matter what, you are not volunteering any more information than necessary.

He waits for you to say more, and his smile doesn’t falter when you remain silent. “Well then, signorita, will you tell me who does?”

The Italian. So it is him.

Fuck.

“The Garrison is owned by...a family from these parts. Do you have business with them,” You can’t help but add impulsively, “Signore?”

His dark eyes widen with pleasure at your flippant remark in his own language. He is playing a game, and you are playing along with him.

“What business would I have with Gypsy fucks like them?” He leans forward, “But sweetheart, you on the other hand...”

Working for the Shelbys means minding the pub when Arthur’s gone, and spying for Tommy when he needs intel on whoever he’s feuding with at the time. It’s more serious than simply turning the other cheek when there’s a cutting in the streets. But you are not prepared to face an enemy alone.

Even if he is as charming as the devil.

Even if he wants you, and you want him back.

For the millionth time, you silently curse Tommy for forbidding you from having a gun, a knife, anything to protect yourself while in the pub. You had asked him about it one night, afterwards, and he only replied, “It’s bad for business if a girl like you gets caught with a weapon she can’t handle.”

“Then teach me,” You had retorted, balling up his trousers and chucking it at his head, “You think you can protect me. But what about when you’re gone?”

Tommy had looked up from buttoning his shirt then, his gaze steely and blue. “I have eyes in all of Birmingham. And besides,” He smiled ruefully, “You’re never in danger unless I put you there myself.”

In the pub, the Italian watches your expression. And in a moment of madness, you almost take up his veiled flirtation.

But then there is Tommy. Tommy with his inscrutable blue gaze. Tommy with his whores. And now you are angry at yourself for thinking of him when he was probably fucking some other woman in Camden Town. For business, he would explain, avoiding your eyes.

“What business would you have with a barmaid like me?” A whisper of regret fills you as you turn to leave. You are halfway up the stairs that lead to your room above the pub when you hear a caress of a single word that turns your blood to ice.

“Isabel.”

The Italian is leaning against the banister, eyes drinking in your figure. And now he saunters up the steps. You scamper up the rest of them but he is quicker. In a flash he spins you around, his body snugly against you and the second-floor wall. An arm over your head, caging you with his tall frame.

The intoxicating scent of tobacco and roses fills the crevices between your bodies.

Your eyes flash dangerously as he bends down, daring him to force a kiss. But he only murmurs into the crook of your neck, “Where is Mr. Shelby tonight?”

You answer breathlessly into the shoulder of his freshly-pressed suit, “He could be at the betting shop. Could be with his wife at home. I don’t-- ”

“The other Mr. Shelby, Isabel.”

Maybe he already sent his men after Tommy. Maybe Tommy’s already dead in a ditch, in godforsaken Camden Town. Or maybe, just maybe, this man really doesn’t know where he is, and you are the only person who can tell him.

He has you good and compromised. No one can help you, so you must save yourself. Instincts kick in, your mind feverishly formulating a plan. It won’t be the first time you’ve done something like this, and on Tommy’s orders nonetheless.

Loose lips sink ships, and men are so pliant after a romp in the sheets. Mindful of your mission now, you angle to ask for his secrets, anything you could find out that gives Tommy an advantage.

Only this time, your heart actually catches as you gaze into the mafioso’s lethal eyes.

A pause then, wondering how much you should reveal, and you confess, “Tommy doesn’t tell anyone where he is until he’s already there.” It’s a half-truth—he told you.

“So he’s Tommy to you then?” The man is pleased with your slip of the tongue. You’ve told him a secret he already knows.

“You are his woman.” He caresses your face with the back of his hand, etched with ink. A cross. Rosary beads. And there, a black-palmed hand. Just like the ones he sent the Shelbys.

I want to see where his tattoos lead to.

“You are his woman,” he continues, and something dark and sweet fills his voice as he purrs, “And you are not afraid of me.”

“I’m not giving up Shelby secrets even if you seduce me,” You stifle a whimper as he wedges a leg between your skirts, and you think of nothing except the way you ache for him to come even closer, until there is nothing between you but skin on bare skin.

“Tommy has whores who might give him up for a pound or three. Although,” you smirk, “I won’t tell you where you’d find them, either.”

“Oh sweetheart, didn’t you hear me?” So close you can feel his heartbeat with your fingertips, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

A deathly promise.

“I’ve come for you.”

He slants his mouth, his lips pressing hotly to yours as you surrender to desire. The kiss is swift and hard. The two of you come together, again and again, like lightning and thunder. As he cradles your head with one hand, the other slips underneath your blouse to palm your breast. You arch against the wall. The onyx rings on his hand are cold, and they pucker your nipples as they bite your skin.

Somehow you find your fingers seeking him too. But it’s not enough to touch the exposed skin between the gaps of his buttoned shirt. You want more.

When you pull apart he is panting, lips apart and wet. His once slicked-back hair now mussed, you imagine yours is too. For the first time this evening, his arrogant face is a little shocked, as if the taste of you affected him more deeply than he expected. You unclench your fists from his shirt and slowly take his face into your hands. You draw a line down the bridge of his nose, feeling all its bumps and ridges.

You murmur huskily, “Why did you really come to Birmingham?”

He tilts his head expectantly, and you are lost in his devastating eyes as he replies.

“Pleasure.”

[anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya]

Wager - Roope Hintz

A/N: Guess who was talking and came up with this idea? Yes, we did @nhlandotherimagines​. Goth Barbie is still in progress do not worry!

Word count: 1175

I pout for about the 30th time in the last hour. I sit comfortably on the couch with Roope’s head placed in my lap. The tips of my fingers brush the sides of his face, tracing the outlines of his facial hair. I scowl at the abomination above his upper lip.

“Stop frowning or you’ll get wrinkles.“ He mumbles with his eyes trained on the TV.

I scoff, not taking my eyes off of his beautiful face. “There are worse things than that. For example this thing.” I tap his mustache.

“Babe I know you don’t like it and neither do I, but I have told you. I lost a bet and now I have this.“ He gestures with his hand towards his face, shrugging his shoulders.

“A really dumb bet, might I add.” I scold him again for the stupid wager he took up. 

“It’s you who’s dating a dummy.“ Moving his shoulders once again, he grins, biting his lip in the process.

Sighing loudly, I keep on complaining. “I get the haircut. As much as I miss the pig tails I get it, but why the hell this barbarism?”

At that he laughs with his entire body, making a smile stretch on my lips. “Barbarism? Babe, it’s just a mustache.” He shakes his head and looks up at me. “Just one month and then it’s gone. I promise.” He turns his head and kisses my palm, his blue eyes pleading with me.

“You better.“ I mutter bitterly, to which he only chuckles again.

//

I turn around reaching for the warm body with my eyes closed, only to be met with a cold and empty side of the bed. I groan into the white pillow, pouring my entire heart into the sound leaving my throat.

“Oh, you're up.“ A deep voice states. I make grabby hands towards the source of the sound not moving any extra inch. The bed dips and his arms engulf me.

“Where were you?“ I ask, placing my head on his chest. One of my hands reaches up to caress his face when my skin makes contact with something it shouldn’t. My eyes snap open and I lift my head from his chest. “Roopeli.” I whine at the sight of his mustache. “It’s been a month.” I pout, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

“I was waiting for you to wake up.“ He says, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Why?“ I furrow my brows in confusion.

“So you could shave me.“ He states. “Please.“ The word comes out unsure, as if worried he has overstepped.

“Yeah, okay.“ I say softly with big eyes, in complete awe at his request.

Taking my hands, he slowly stands up making me follow his actions. He leads me to the bathroom and lets go of me, only to step towards the cabinets and begin his search for his razor. Meanwhile I take a seat on the edge of the bathtub, watching him with complete and utter love.

He fishes out the razor and some shaving foam, and turns to face me. Motioning for me to come closer, I take a couple of steps to stand right in front of his beautiful face. Putting the accessories on the counter, he then leans down place a soft kiss on my forehead. Grabbing my hips, he lifts me up, placing me onto the counter. Stepping between my thighs, he places both of his big palms on each side of my body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, leaning in. I nod my head with a smile, which he gladly returns with one of his own. He places another kiss to my cheek and then hands me the bottle of foam. I spray it onto my hands and then spread over his cheeks. I lock my legs behind his back and give Roope an innocent look to which he merely raises his light eyebrows.

“Would you spray some more onto my hands?” I ask, my palms facing up. He chuckles and does just as I ask. He even adds a small dot on my nose, at that I jerk backwards, letting out a displeased squeal. He lets out a chuckle at my ridiculous antics, to which I let a huge grin spread on my lips.

“Don’t forget I am the one with the razor here.“ I tell him as I cover his terrible mustache with foam.

“Would you purposefully cut me babe?“ He asks, feigning hurt.

“Of course not, but it’s a fair warning.“ I say. “Just in case you know?“

He shakes his head and I turn to wash the extra foam off of my hands. After drying my hands off on a fluffy blue towel I grab the razor, inspecting it.

“Don’t stress about it. If you cut me, it won’t be the first time I got cut while shaving.“ His large fingers caress the side of my face. I look up staring deeply into his bright blue eyes.

“I don’t want to cut that pretty face of yours, though.“ I sigh, running a hand through his short blonde hair.

“You won’t. I am sure you’re gonna do great. I trust you.“ He smiles, looking incredibly ridiculous with his face covered in light blue foam.

“Okay.“ Taking a deep breath I raise my hand to his face. Placing the razor to his skin, I slowly drag it down. Seeing I have done no damage I smile and turn to wash the razor, going for another stripe. I spend extra care at getting rid of his mustache, not wanting to get his pink lips busted.

It’s when I am almost done do I scratch his chin with the blade. Cringing immediately at the painful grimace he tries to hide.

“Oh my, I am so sorry.“ I exclaim loudly, covering my mouth with my hands. “Oh shit. I am really sorry. Fuck.”

“Kulta, it’s okay.“ He gets a hold of my wrists, successfully stopping my panicked ramble. His thumbs rub the skin of my wrists, calming me down. “Want to finish it or should I?” He asks gently.

“I don’t know.“

“Come here.“ Still holding my hands he drags me to the edge and I jump down. He turns me around wrapping his palm around the hand that still holds his razor. “Let’s finish this together, okay?“ He asks, staring into my eyes through the mirror. I nod weakly. He uses his free hand to boop my nose and get some foam on his finger too. He then boops his nose, just to make me giggle. And I do, letting him use my hand to shave himself.

After he’s done, he washes his face while I search for a disinfect to tend to his wound I have caused. I dab his chin gently, then turn to hand him his aftershave.

“Not too bad for a first timer babe.“ He says, kissing my cheek.

“Please, I literally cut you.“ I scoff at his praise.

“Worth it.“ He shrugs with that dorky smile of his adoring his face.

//

Translation:

Kulta - honey/babe (literally gold)

[disasterofastory]

Join Part 2 (Finan x Reader x Sihtric)

Join Part 2 Warnings: smut Finan and Sihtric have to go on a mission, but when they come back, they are ready to take the next step before somebody gets Y/N’s heart.

Your days go by uneventfully, but at the back of your mind, you notice the change on Finan and Sihtric. They spend much more time in your company. They come to the alehouse every morning to say hi, and they wait for you every night to accompany you home if you work late. They kiss your cheek, hold your hands and hug you without reason. They become a part of your daily routine, and that is why you feel so lost the day they have to go to King Alfred with their Lord.

It’s still early in the morning when you go to the gate to say goodbye. Your throat is tight, and your stomach is in knots as you walk closer and closer to them. Finan is ready to jump on his horse when he notices your approaching form. He smiles at you, standing back on the ground.

“Y/N,” he greets you, hitting Sihtric’s shoulder, who looks at your way with a matching smile. “I thought I come to say goodbye,” you tell them, a little bit embarrassed. At home, it sounded like a good idea, but now that you are here, you are not sure about it. “We are always happy to see you,” Sihtric reassures you. “When will you come back?” “Hopefully, we will not be away more than two months,” Finan answers, squeezing your upper arm to calm you down. “Take care of yourselves,” you tell them, almost like an order as you step closer to Sihtric to hug him. His arms go around your waist instantly, kissing your temple. “Take this,” he says when you move back from his embrace. You look down to see what he is talking about, and you notice a small dagger in his hands. “I don’t…” you start to argue, but the Dane doesn’t let you. “Please,” he says, and you take the weapon from his fingers to place it in your belt. “Where is my hug?” Finan smiles cheekily to cheer up your sullen mood. You laugh at his trying and walk into his waiting arms. He squeezes you close to himself, kissing your hair. “Don’t be reckless,” you tell him, looking up at him. “Don’t anger anyone if it’s not necessary.” “Aw, it’s like you don’t know me,” he winks at you, and you hit his arm playfully as you step back from him. “Just… be safe,” you tell them at the end when you notice Uhtred and Osferth coming your way in their horses. “You too,” Sihtric says. “We will miss you,” Finan adds more seriously. You watch them outside the gate till they disappear from your sight.

You almost feel pathetic. It’s ridiculous how much pain you feel in your chest, thinking about the long weeks without them. They are your friends and nothing more. You are still a silly little girl if you think otherwise, and your heart will break if you don’t sober up from your pointless dreams. You have to focus on your own life, and before you know, the two men will be at the alehouse every morning as usual.

The two months have become almost a year.

The only reason you can keep your sanity because you always hear about them from travelers. They talk about their mission and the new Dane village they burned down. The months go agonizingly slow, and you never can be sure they are still well and safe. You try to move on with your life. You can’t be worried for the two men who don’t even feel the same as you.

You are at the market when you hear the news and see the gates opening. They come back. At first, you don’t want to go there. They are not your men to wait for, but before you know, your legs take control over your decisions. You watch them hopping off their horses with smiles and happy shouts as the others circle around them until they disappear behind the people. You bite your lip, thinking of your next move. You could go and welcome them, or you could go home and don’t let your hopes up. You have a date tonight. You should concentrate on it. You have a life beside the Lord’s men, and if you want to do something with your life, it has to stay that way.

You go home without welcoming them with a tightened throat to get ready for tonight. You invited over the farmer boy who asked you out a few times till you said yes. You are still unsure if you want something from him, but it’s the first step to move on, and you have to do it. You make chicken with tomatoes and cheese. When you are done, you go back to your room to get dressed. You braid your hair and put on your prettiest blue dress with darker blue motives. You feel pretty and satisfied, but it still feels wrong. Your cleavage feels provocative, but it doesn’t show more of your bosom than usual, and you want to hide under one of your pelts despite the warmth of the house. When the boy arrives, at first, it feels pleasant. He brings you flowers and compliments on your appearance. He talks to you about his day, and he seems respectful and kind, but as the night goes on, the awkwardness becomes too loud between you two. When you are done with eating, he looks around desperately to find some topic you could talk about while you wish he would go home. He is a nice guy and you sure he will find a girl who will be lucky to be with him, but it isn't you. The knock on your door saves the unpleasant silence, and you almost jump up from your seat to answer it. “H-hey,” you murmur, looking up at the two men. They are still in their travel wears, and their face is stoic as they look down at you and over your shoulder. “You didn’t come to see us,” Finan says, offended. He looks like a kid who doesn’t get his favorite toy, while Sihtric looks like a… Dane. His expression is hard and unfriendly, and you sure, a wrong move from the guy behind you, and he is ready to fight with him. “Could we talk to you?” He asks, and without waiting for an answer, he walks in next to you. “Alone,” he adds, staring at your guest. “It’s better if I go.” The boy says, standing up from his seat. “We will talk later. I enjoyed your company,” he continues. He has to squeeze himself out because Finan doesn’t move to let him go so easily. When he is gone, Finan steps in, closing the door behind himself. You feel guilty under their gaze, although you didn’t do anything. You are pathetic. You feel like you cheated on them. You love these guys so much you are want to be loyal in a nonexistent relationship. “You didn’t come to see us,” Finan repeats it again. “I’m sorry,” you answer, still confused. “Who was the boy?” Sihtric asks angrily. You never saw him like this. If you wouldn’t be sure about his relationship with Finan, you would say he is jealous. “Do you love him?” He asks when you don’t answer immediately. “No,” you shake your head. “We are not together. It was our first date.” You don’t know why do you feel the need to explain yourself. They are not yours, and they were away for almost a year. “We need to talk,” he answers. “We should have talked to you before our journey.” He looks over to Finan, who nods and guides you to a chair before he follows Sihtric’s moves and takes a seat in front of you. “Are you okay?” It’s your turn to ask questions. “Something happened?” “Don’t worry, we are alright,” Finan rushes to calm you down, reaching over the table to grab your hand. “We want to talk about us.” “Us?” “We love you,” Sihtric says, plain and simple. Your whole body froze. What does he mean? “Why did you do that?” Finan asks his boyfriend when he sees your reaction. “What he tries to say… We care about you a lot. We wanted to talk about it before we went away.” “I care about you too,” you answer them. “Good job,” Sihtric says sarcastically to Finan. “As I said, we love you. We want to be with you. We want you to join our relationship. I mean, of course, if you feel the same.” Your ears ring as you hear their words. Your whole body is numb, and you can’t move, doesn’t matter how much you want to. You are afraid if you move or say something, you wake up alone in your bed, far away from Finan and Sihtric. It’s not hard to believe them. Seeing their care for you and their touches and kisses with this knowledge, everything seems whole and easy. The only thing you have to do is not wake up from this dream. “Y/N,” Finan says, leaning closer. “Do you hear us?” “I-I...” you stutter. “Do you feel the same?” Sihtric asks you. “Or do you see a chance to feel?” “I-I…” “I think we broke her,” Finan notes with a half-smile. He tries to suppress his nervousness with a joke. “I love you too,” you answer after a while. Your voice is quiet and shaky. “Both of you,” you add, looking between the two men. You don’t care. If it’s a dream, you will enjoy every minute of it. “So the boy…” Sihtric starts, but Finan doesn’t let him continue. “Leave it,” he says. “She loves us. You love us?” He asks, turning to you. “Yes,” you laugh at his expression. “For a while now.” Both of their faces lit up, hearing your answer. The weight they carried during the whole journey leaves their shoulders. The past year was hard on them. There wasn’t a day when they didn’t think about you or the possibility you find someone else, and maybe you got married while they were away. When they didn’t see you in the welcoming crowd, they thought about the worst, and when Gisela told them about your date, they couldn’t run fast enough to stop whatever is going on between you and the stranger. “We missed you,” Finan says much calmer, standing up to pull you in his arms. His palms caress your sides as you stand against his hard body. His breath is warm on your face, and you have to cling to his shoulders because of your weakened knees. He leans closer till his lips touch yours. The kiss is careful and soft. His beard tickles your skin until he deepens his movements. Your breath is stuck in your lungs, and a moan leaves your mouth as you feel Sihtric stepping behind you. His hands grab your hips, kissing your shoulders and neck. Your whole body shakes under their tender touches. Your stomach is in knots, and the warmth between your legs becomes too much. As you decided before, if it’s a dream, you will enjoy every moment of it. “My room…” you sigh breathlessly when you Finan breaks the kiss. “Are you sure?” Sihtric asks behind you. His breath is warm on your ear, and hearing his low voice, you turn around to stand on your tiptoes for another kiss. His kiss is much different than his boyfriend's. He knows what he wants and doesn’t care about tenderness. He grabs your hair at your nape to pull you closer and doesn’t stop till you push him away for breath. Your lips are red and swollen, and before you know, you are in your bedroom still between the two men who you are in love with for so many months. Sihtric stands behind you to untie your dress. His fingers move skillfully as he leans closer to peck your shoulder here and there while Finan starts to undress himself. His clothes fall on the ground at the same time as yours. His skin is hot, pulling you to his embrace. His fingers move up and down on your sides gently till he reaches the skin under your breasts. In the back of your mind, you hear Sihtric shuffling with his own clothes, and not long after the quiet noise, you feel him again behind you. The room is probably cold, but you feel nothing of it. Between the two men, your skin is warm, and your blood pumps your heart like it wants to jump out of your chest. You caress Finan's arms up to his shoulders and down to his hairy chest. There are scars on his sunburned skin from his past, and you lean closer to kiss them. You feel his heartbeat under your lips, and you can’t help but smile at it. Everything feels so real. The Dane grabs your hips to push himself against your backside. You can’t help yourself but moan at the feeling of his leaking length on your skin and the pressure on your breasts as Finan moves closer to you. His hardness is on your stomach, and you reach between you to grab him. He is hard and hot as you move your fingers up and down on him, and he moans in your neck. While you play with Finan, Sihtric reaches over to grab your breasts. Your nipples peak against his warm palm. “Harder,” you pant, pushing yourself more into his hands. “See?” Sihtric says to Finan. “She is not as fragile as you thought,” he chuckles mockingly, and the other just growls in answer. You giggle at the sound, but your voice turns into a squeal as Finan grabs you. He sits down at the head of your bed, pulling you between his spread legs. You back against his chest, and he squeezes your breast before he reaches between your legs to give space to Sihtric. The Dane is skinnier than his boyfriend but not less muscled. While Finan is thick everywhere, Sihtric is lean and long. He kneels on the bed to lean between your thighs till you feel his fanning breath on your pussy. “W-“ You want to ask what is he doing, but your words stuck in your throat when he licks you. His tongue burns your folds as he plays with them, and you moan when Finan pinches your nipples. “Gods, I never want to stop it,” Sihtric says hoarsely between two licks, and Finan's chest vibrates behind you from his laugh. “He is really good, no?” Finan asks you, biting your earlobe. “Yes,” you pant. Your fingers grab the man’s hair between your legs, and you lean more to Finan’s chest to give him more access to your pussy. The Irishman reaches down on you to open you up more to his boyfriend. Your whole body burns and shakes as your back arches from your orgasm. Sihtric waits and plays till you calm down and sits on his heels. Finan's hand doesn’t leave your body, and soon you feel his one and then two fingers in yourself. Sihtric reaches down to his groin, and his breath shudders as his fingers wrap around his cock. His muscles tense from the pleasure and his eyes become hooded, staring between your legs. Finan plays with you for a while until you are almost ready to cum again, but to your greatest displeasure, he pulls out of you before you can reach your high. He licks his fingers and hums, looking up at his boyfriend. “You are right,” he says, pecking your neck before moves out behind you to change position with Sihtric. The Dane hugs you close to himself, one of his hands on your breast, massaging it as he lays down more with you on the pillows. You can feel his hardness on your back, and Finan spreads your legs till he is above you and your legs are around his waist. “Are you still sure?” He asks you, panting. He caresses your cheek while his cock bob at your folds. “Please,” you mewl, reaching up to his neck to pull him down for a kiss. He pushes himself up, reaching down to position himself to your entrance. Your breath shutters, and you would swear you can see stars before your eyes as he fills you slowly and steadily. As you try to grab to the reality, you sense he moves above your shoulder till he reaches his boyfriend. You could cum even just hearing them kissing. You never want to wake up from this. Your heart races and you sure Sihtric can feel it as he still plays with your tits. Your neck is red from his slight beard, and at some point, you can’t tell the difference between his and your rapid breathing. You try to move your hips at Finan's pace, but he gets faster and faster till the only thing you can do is cling to his shoulder. If Sihtric wouldn’t hug you, you couldn’t stay at a place. “Where can I come?” Finan growls into your ears. “Wherever you want,” you pant. Your legs squeeze his waist, and your nails deepen into his skin as your head falls on Sihtric’s shoulder and cum with him at the same time. You can feel his seed inside you as he moves lower on your body. He pecks your chest up to your shoulder and face until he reaches your lips. “I love you,” he tells you, and you want to say the same, but the only voice that leaves your mouth is heavy breathing and mewling. You caress his cheek, and he understands you because he kisses into your palms and lays down next to you on the bed. Sihtric leans over to Finan to kiss him one more time before he straightens and moves out under you. “Can you do one more?” He says, and you are definitely not sure about it, but you nod. “Turn around love,” he says, helping you. Your face on a pillow and your bottom in the air waiting for Sihtric’s next move. Finan moves closer to you. His face lays before you, smiling and whispering sweet nothings. He tells you how beautiful you are and how much he loves every part of your body. The Dane grabs your hips, pulling you to his groin, and it’s enough for you to moan out his name. You need him. You are tired and sensitive, but you still need him inside you. “Please,” you beg him. “Of course,” he pants, still playing with his cock between your folds. You feel Finan’s semen leaking out of you, and soon enough, Sihtric length pushing into you without difficulty. You shut your eyes and squeeze the pillow under you as he starts to move back and forth. “Y/N,” he moans breathlessly. He is much more vocal than the Irishman, and every one of his moans and grunts and growls enough for you to reach higher and higher. You are sensitive and ready, and you are not surprised when you cum before him. Your legs are numb, and every part of you tingles. He has to steady you as he starts to move faster to finish himself. The inside of you almost burns as he cums, still moving. You can barely open your eyes as you feel hands on you moving you to your back. You feel beard and lips on your cheek and neck and something between your legs as they clean you up. You grunt from the pain. “I know, I'm sorry,” Sihtric whispers, dropping the rag he cleaned you off with. After he is done, he lays down next to your other side. Finan pulls you to his chest, and Sihtric hugs you from behind. You feel his warm breath on your nape and the Irishman’s gentle caresses on your arm. “Sleep, Y/N,” he says quietly, kissing your temple. The darkness consumes you between the two warm bodies.

When you wake up the next morning every part of your body is still tired and in pain but in a good way. You need some minute to notice the two men around you and their hugging arms on you. You don’t dare to move from the shock. It wasn’t a dream. They are here, and you are awake. “Good morning,” Sihtric whispers, moving closer to your still-naked form. “How did you sleep?” He asks you. His voice is low from sleep, but his smile is honest and happy as he stares at you. “Good,” you squeal. “Are you okay?” Finan asks from behind you. He kisses your shoulder blade as he moves to look over at your shoulder. “I-I thought it was a dream,” you confess. You really had sex with the two love of your life. “But you didn’t regret it, did you?” Sihtric asks you concerned. “No, no,” you answer immediately. “I love you, I was honest, but I really thought I was dreaming.” “So you dreamed about us before?” Finan asks you cheekily, resting his arm on yours. “Tell us more. Maybe we can make them true.” “Oh, shush,” you hide your face into your pillow. You aren’t awake for a few minutes, and your skin is already hot from shyness. “I will make breakfast,” Finan tells you, giving up on your entertaining torture. “And we can speak about our new relationship.” “Sounds good,” Sihtric nods, petting your back. “Are you really okay with it? We don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want.” “I want it,” you reply, looking up at his gentle expression. “I want both of you equally.”

[twinklelilstarkey]

Kicked Out - Rafe Cameron

Words: 1.8k+

Type: Angst

Summary: Rafe is kicked out of the house by Ward and runs to you when it happens.

Warnings: Being kicked out. And a whole lot of crying. This is so depressing, jeez louise.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

(You can imagine this with canon Rafe, since it’s based of a scene from the show. But that literally doesn’t change a thing to the story, so... do what you’d like)

Credits

Tears are already dry on Rafe’s face. They’ve stopped running down his cheeks as he was able to walk his way out of the Cut. And now, he’s just a few steps away from his home.

Or at least what he used to call home.

His phone is already low on battery, but from the times he checked it, it has been almost an hour since his dad left him with Barry.

The muscles of his legs are aching as he continues to walk his way to the front door. The front door and front garden are illuminated by the automatic yellow lights, which almost seem blinding his sensitive eyes.

He unlocks the front door with his key slowly to try and keep the house with its natural silence.

He steps in, head pounding under his fingertips once he brings them to his temples.

And all he can feel is pure exhaustion.

Passing through the lobby of the house was easy, his shoes didn’t make any loud noise to catch anyone’s attention and he didn’t knock anything over. But that invisibility to his family only lasted until he walked past the living room.

“Rafe?” Wheezie says over the sound of the TV, still sitting next to her mom.

“Shit” He whispers to himself.

He ignores his stepsister’s voice and forces his legs to move towards the stairs and up to his room.

The small girl, with the absence of his answer, gets up from the couch and walks towards the door. But as she got there, Rafe has already made his way up the stairs.

She follows him, without a care in the world, only trying to make simple conversation. But as soon as her eyes land on him, she frowns. He looked tense and seemed as if he was careful to even step into the floor of his own home.

He opens the door of his room and sighs, taking in the last looks before he has to leave.

Wheezie, equally as careful with her steps, walks to his wide-open door and is surprised to see him grab a duffel bag and a backpack from the last drawer of the wardrobe.

“Are you going camping or something?” She finally talks.

Rafe looks up quickly, alert by the loud sound of his sister’s voice, and the girl scowls at his face.

Eyes swollen and red and cheeks flushed. Which could mean many things. But his sniffles were the last clue.

“Have you been cri-” She starts but a voice stops her.

“Wheezie what are you doing in Ra- What are you doing here?” Ward asks as he peeks inside the room and sees the son he just kicked out.

“I- Uhm... I-I’m packing” Rafe answers, careful with his words.

Ward studies his son with a rigid look on his face and clenches his jaw.

“Make it quick”

“Yes, sir” He answers, looking back down to his bags.

Rafe, right there and then, turned to his wardrobe and grabbed everything he could see, shoving it into the bags.

“What is going on?” Wheezie asks her brother loudly as he runs through the room, trying to find everything he might need.

“I got kicked out”

Rafe sniffles again and opens one more drawer, grabbing all the socks and underwear he could see.

The silence fills the room once more, and this time it’s heavy and dense. Almost making it hard to breathe.

Wheezie stands in the doorway, holding her own sweaty hands while watching Rafe pack up all of his belongings in silence, not knowing what to say or ask.

Rafe grabs his charger from his desk and shoves it in the already full bag. He stands straight quickly and pulls his phone out of his pocket, 2%.

He quickly unlocks it and scrolls through his contacts, clicking on your name. He stares down at the contact picture before bringing it to his ear, as wave of warmth and comfort washes over him as he stares at you.

His eyes fill up in tears and he stares up at the wall, bringing the phone up to his ear, listening to the ringing and waiting for you to pick up.

Voice mail.

“Fuck” He whispers to himself.

He can always sleep over at Topper’s but that doesn’t seem... right.

He turns back to his bags once more and closes them, throwing both over his shoulder as he checks around the room to see if he forgot anything.

“Where are you going to stay?” Wheezie asks, making the boy look down at her again.

“I don’t know yet” He answers, voice cracking slightly at the end.

Rafe clears his throat as to act as if it wasn’t what it sounded like and Wheezie’s eyes fill with tears at the sound of it. Rafe looks away, biting his lip as a way to fight the wave of emotions that’s coming his way, and walks towards the doorway, closer to her.

“Will you visit?” She asks.

Her voice is low, almost a whisper. Almost sounding as if she’s scared of what words to use. But filled with sadness and shaking at every syllable.

“I don’t think I can” He replies, voice as shaky.

Wheezie, with that, wraps her arms around Rafe and hugs his torso. A sob escapes her mouth and Rafe looks away from her again, not wanting to break down once more.

(...)

You’re deep into your sleep at around midnight, notifications off your phone and random episodes of a random reality show play as background noise.

You’ve had a rough week with college, but you’re finally done with your tests. You only have to worry about projects now.

A light knock on your door awakes you and you stare at the darkness of your dorm in confusion. Who in their right mind is knocking at your door at 3am?

You try and ignore it, hoping that it’s just a drunk college student, trying to find his room while intoxicated.

But the person doesn’t give up.

You sigh loudly while throwing your covers off you, letting the cold air touch your warm skin. You shiver slightly as you put on the hoodie that rests at the end of your bed but it’s warmth quickly calms you down.

You walk towards the door, trying your best to not trip over anything on the dark room, and open it.

“Rafe?” You ask in a whisper.

You cringe at the strong lighting of the hallways and your boyfriend stares down at you. You turn on the light beside you and you frown at him.

“What’s wrong?”

Rafe visits you every weekend, so seeing him at your door at a Friday night is not too rare. But he’s never this late.

Or with bags this full.

“Can I come in?” He asks, low tone.

You nod and open the door widely so he can walk in comfortably.

The warmth of the room welcomes Rafe as soon as he steps in, and he puts down both of his bags beside the door.

You grab his hand, not only to get a hold of him but also to get his attention, and he looks away from the floor to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” You ask with the sweetest tone you could pull off.

Rafe lifts his gaze somewhere else at your question, not wanting to continue eye contact. He just shakes his head as a ‘no’, as emotions overflow him and make his chin shake.

You pull his hand towards your hip and quickly wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Rafe does the same, wrapping his arms around you as he lays his head on top of yours.

He doesn’t want to cry in front of you, but it’s getting harder and harder as he holds it in.

“You can tell me anything” You whisper into his chest, voice muffled by his shirt, “You know that”

“I know” He says, this time louder, but shakier.

You lift your head up to look at him and the sight just breaks your heart into an uncountable amount of pieces.

“Let’s sit” You tell him as a way to try and make him feel more comfortable.

He nods and let’s go of you for that minute, slowly. You grab his hand again and pull him to sit next to you on the bed. You sit quietly looking at him as his hand grabs onto yours tightly.

“Dad kicked me out” He whispers while looking at the ground, not wanting to see your reaction.

“What?” You ask shocked, “why?”

“I fucked up” He replies, shrugging his shoulders, “Like always” he adds.

With that you let go of his hand and cup his face. His warm hand now sits on your cold leg as you force him to look at you.

Tears have escaped Rafe’s eyes as he stared into the ground, and when staring at you, it only made it worse.

“Bubba, I-”

“I fucked up really bad” He emphasizes.

You clean his tears with your thumbs and he stares at you silently.

“Do you have a place to stay?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

Rafe looks away again, blinking his new tears away as he pretends to look out of the window. Your hands now resting at his jaw and back of his head, caressing him.

“You can stay here, with me” You offer, “I don’t share this dorm with anyone... And they almost never check who is sleeping on each dorm, anyways”

He stares back at you and clenches his jaw.

“Can I?” He asks, “It will be temporary, I- I promise”

“Of course, you can. As long as you need”

Rafe gives you a small broken smile and wraps his arms around you again, pulling you towards his side in a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and give in to the tight hug. One of your hands rests over his hair and you play with it slowly, as a way to comfort him.

You two stay like this for a bit, just until you need to go lock your dorm room door again and turn off the lights.

Rafe lays with you as you come back to bed, and after you offered to give him more blankets or even more comfortable clothes (previously stolen a few months back from his room).

You lay over his chest, letting him play with the ends of your hair as always as you watched whatever is on the screen of your laptop.

You fell asleep almost an hour later of cuddling and laying in the silence.

But Rafe didn’t. The first minutes of you being asleep were calm and quiet. Almost made it seem like he was back to his past reality.

But he didn’t blink an eye the whole night. Because that’s his true reality now. He’s not ready to walk alone for the rest of his life. Even with you. He’s not ready for anything.

Nobody prepared him for this, especially his own dad. And he’s scared of it. Maybe even terrified of what’s to come.

And there’s nothing he can do but let it happen. And that terrifies him.

- - - - - - -

Why do I only write angst? Is this too depressing? I’m so sorry.

My requests for Rafe are still open! You can request anything (except for smut)!

[Ask Box]

[layniapetrovnaaa]

DOFP Logan X Reader Smut

Summary: Logan travels back to the past and sees you, the reunion was not what he was expecting considering your history; but when you fail to stop Raven, you find yourself scared for the future and you feel the need for his love again.

Warnings: Smut, choking kink, swearing, mentions of drug use (just weed), mentions of alcoholism. The beginning is kinda shit, but I think I did good with the smut lmao.

"Laurie was a young lover, but he was in earnest, and meant to 'have it out', if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuousity, saying in a voice that would get choky now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady...

"I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo, couldn't help it, you've been so good to me. I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me. Now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer."

"I wanted to save you this. I thought you'd understand..." began Jo, finding it a great deal harder than she expected."—the book slammed shut.

The noise wracking the school made it hard for you to focus on your book–one that you were thoroughly enjoying–so you got up an went to go investigate.

As you exited your room and walked into the hallway, you met Charles.

"What the hell is that noise?" you asked him, agitation lacing your voice.

"I have no clue." he sighs and the two of you trudge down the stairs.

You couldn't help but snort at the sight in front of you. Hank hung from the chandelier, while his victim lay on the table below him.

"Get off the bloody chandelier Hank." the professor, who stood beside you at the top of the staircase, spoke.

You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing.

Hank jumped down and as you walked down the stairs you recognized the man.

"[Y/N]?" Logan spoke, surprised to see you again.

"What? You know him?" Hank asks, slightly out of breath.

You ignore both of them and continue to walk toward Logan until you are standing in front of him.

SMACK!

"What the hell was that for?!" he groans, bringing his hand up to is cheek, replacing where your had just briefly been. You laugh bitterly.

"What do you mean 'What the hell was that for?' You left me!" your tone was raised and angered but not quite yelling.

Charles and Hank stood there awkwardly, while Logan stood there bewildered.

"I left you?" he asks, is tone completely serious as his hand slips from his cheek.

Your laugh was sarcastic, as was your response.

"What'd you just lose your memories all of a sudden?"

Logan flinched at your words, but didn't answer.

All you could do was shake your head and grumble to yourself as you walked back up to your room, not even inquiring what he was there for.

Truth be told he didn't remember leaving you. After what happen with Stryker and losing his memories, the professor helped him to get some back, but he could only remember bits and pieces of really important events or people, and you were one of them. But he still couldn't remember much, only parts of your time together, the best parts.

***

Hank sat at the edge of the bed, you were laying on your side, your back facing him as you fiddled with the loose strands of the blanket you laid atop of.

"We talked to Logan." he states blankly, and you don't respond.

"He needs our help [Y/N]."

You scoff at that.

"Oh please.” You murmur. "What does the oh-so-great Wolverine need our help with?"

"[Y/N]" he sighs "what I'm about to say may be hard to believe, but your just going to have to trust us." he pauses, then continues "Logan was sent from the future, he needs our help to stop Raven."

At this you roll onto your back and burst into laughter. Wiping a stray tear from your right eye as your laughter starts to calm down.

"Well, I was not expecting that." you state, sitting up and slapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for cheering me up Hank." You smile before getting up off the bed and going over to your dresser to find a joint. As you are rummaging through your drawer he speaks again.

"I'm-I'm serious [Y/N]. Even the professor believes him."

You slam the drawer shut and start to search through your jewelry box that sat on top of the dresser.

"Well the professor is also an alcoholic." you state rather harshly.

"Please [Y/N], we need all the help we can get."

You let out an agitated sigh and turn around to face him.

"Fine." you point a finger at him "But if I find out that this is just some silly ass shit, I'll beat your ass.

"Yes ma'am." he smiles, his tone playful yet serious.

***

After coming back from Paris that night and watching the news saying that they had already gotten Ravens blood sample, you couldn't help but feel completely defeated. You were sure everyone else felt the same way as well.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, that when you stopped at the door in front of you, you only then realized it was not yours, it was Logan's. The door was cracked open just enough for you to peak into his room and see him smoking a cigar on his bed. After staring at the door for a few moments you decided to knock, then enter the room. He turns his head to face the door as he blows out a puff of smoke. You close the door behind you softly and he raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up." you scoff, and he cant help but chuckle as he turns his head back to face the wall in front of him and take another puff.

"I always loved the smell of those." you said softly as you walked over to the bed and sat down.

"I know." he hums as he removes his hand from from under his head to sit up against the headboard.

Your hand slides back and forth over the sheets as you stare into his eyes intently.

"Logan?..." you whisper

He puts the cigar out in the tray that rests on his bedside table. He moves to sit next to you and puts his hand atop of yours, which had stopped moving as soon as you felt his touch. The face he gives you is so sincere, almost as if he was trying to say: tell me anything and everything.

"In the future do I-" you lean into him closer.

"Don't. Don't do that to yourself kid." he says softly, but firm.

You eye his lips, and then they are crushing your own.

The kiss is passionate, so passionate, and warm. You had kissed Logan many times before, but none felt like this as he grabbed your waist, pulling you to him as close as he could given the position you were in. Your hands fly up to grip his face and push his lips harder onto yours. He balances himself on his left hand which rests behind you on the bed. Deep breathes and the smacking of lips can be heard as your mouths dance together in a sensual and loving way.

He pulls back and your foreheads rest against each other, your noses nuzzling gently.

"I'm sorry for leaving." he whispers and you can feel his breath on your lips. You pull back slightly to look into his eyes.

"I forgive you." you just couldn't stay mad at him.

The green in his hazel orbs shines bright and you wonder how you were able to live without him for so many years.

"Make love to me." you let out in a breathy whisper.

All he does in response is kiss you hard and lay you on the bed gently.

His hands travel all over your clothed body, stopping to squeeze and caress certain areas.

As his lips kiss your neck you are reminded of the first night you two had been physically intimate. It was 1953, you had gone to see the movie "Roman Holiday", it was cute. You especially liked Gregory Peck, and even though he still wouldn’t admit it, Logan was a little jealous. And so you two kinda just ended up just making-out the whole time. That's when he took you home and professed his love to you physically, and promised he would love you forever.

He sits back and pulls the dingy white tank top he was wearing off. You bit your lip as you took in the sight in front of you—Jesus—its like he was hand crafted by god himself. He leans back down over you, and fits himself nicely between your legs. Grabbing your wrists to raise them above your head as you continue to make-out.

God, could this feeling just last forever? The weight of him on top of you, consumed by his musk, and the way his lips made you feel as if you were as high as a bird, as if gravity didn't exist. 

You two sat up and you took your shirt off, having not worn a bra, you were completely exposed to him as he took off his belt and unbuttoned his pants. 

"Jesus Christ" he breathes, both his hands being immediately drawn to your breasts, he starts to fondle them and you cant help but giggle slightly at the enamored look in his face before he sits back and you straddle his lap. 

His hands caress your waist, up to your back, then down to your hips a couple of times as you starts to embrace his neck with your lips. Your hips start to move back and forth slowly, the friction almost killing you as you both let out soft moans and he grips your hips tightly.

“F-fuck” he stutters as you continue the sinful swishing of your hips. You pant softly at the feeling of your sweet spot getting some stimulation.

Logan grabs you and rolls you two over before getting up and taking his pants and underwear off, you do the same. He sits back on his knees in between your legs, admiring the sight in front of him.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” His thumb rubs up and down your thigh slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, captivated by the looks on his face, his eyes never leaving your core as he hums in satisfaction.

He leans back over you kissing your chest and flicking his tongue over your nipples. His hand slowly travels down and he starts rubbing your clit slowly.

“Aghh Logan” you moan, his middle finger dipping down to trace your hole, feeling the natural lubricant that excreted from it.

Slowly he starts to enter you with his longest finger, starting to move it inside of you. Feeling the influx of wetness he adds his ring finger.

Sighing and moaning softly into his mouth as you kissed. He always seemed to know exactly what to do to make you feel so good.

Once satisfied with how wet you had become he removes his fingers and you suck them into your mouth, remembering how that would always set him off.

His mouth hangs open as you look him in the eyes while your tongue flicks over his fingers.

Slowly he pulls them out and they release with a small wet popping noise.

“You always know how to make me fuckin’ crazy.” he groans.

His hands slide from your collarbones to your breasts, groping, jiggling, and smushing them together.

“I would die for these tits.” You laugh lightly at his statement before you bite your lip and reach out to grab his cock.

“I wanna taste you.” You hum, slowly stroking his member, maintaining eye contact as you knew that was something he loved.

“Another time baby, right now I wanna be in this tight and wet little pussy.” You release him, and sit back on your elbows.

Sighing erotically at his words you spread your legs further and he lines himself up at your entrance. He starts to slide in slowly, only going about halfway at first due to his size.

“You good baby?”

“Mhmm”

He starts to enter you fully, groaning as he does.

“Jesus fuckin Christ” he breaths, and you moan slightly, throbbing around him. You had to admit it was a bit uncomfortable due to his girth, length, and your size. But, it still felt really good having him inside of you.

He stilled for a moment after he had entered you to the hilt, feeling like it would kill him (in the best of ways) if he started to move.

Yet, he prevailed and started to set a relatively fast pace, one that made your breasts jump withe every thrust, and felt like goddamn heaven.

One of his hands took a hold of your wrist, lifting it above your head, his elbow digging into the mattress. His other hand flew to your throat and you let out and obnoxiously loud moan. Your free hand reaching down to stimulate your clitoris.

His breathing was heavy as his hips continued to buck into yours. Groaning and growling as well.

His pace slowed down for a moment and he gave you several deep, hard, and fast thrust, ones that made you grab his wrist (the one connected to the hand that was wrapped around your neck) as you squirm, moan obscenely, and dig your toes into the mattress sharply.

He starts to thrust into you faster again and he releases your neck and wrist. Running your hand down his toned abdomen, you feel the muscles tense lightly at each swish of his hips. Your arms wrap around to his back, your fingertips digging into the hard flexing muscles. Your mouth hanging open, moans escaping it every second, staring into his eyes as he fucked you.

He looks down and watches where the two of you connect and you squeeze him slightly, feeling his hips stutter when you do.

“Ohh shit baby, do that again.” You comply and he groans.

Its not long before you hear that saying you love so much.

“I’m gunna cum.” he moans out and you throb at his words. 

“Oouu fuck” you moan as his pace picks up ever so slightly, running your hands up to his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. 

You two separate and you can tell hes at his tipping point as he lets out a shaky breath.

A string of slightly high pitched, but throaty and guttural groans fall from his mouth and echo in the crook of your neck. Fuck, if that wasn't one of the most amazing noises you had ever heard...you didn't know what was. 

He stills as deep inside you as he can get while his high takes over. You moan at the noises he makes and the feeling of his load inside of you, just being completely stuffed full of him, and you squeeze him as he orgasms. 

Once he starts to come back to reality he kisses you in a dirty and sloppy manor, and pulls out of you. Your cunt clenching around nothing at the loss. 

He runs his hands down your torso before kissing your left rib, then putting his face right between your legs.

He takes a deep breath in and hums, savoring the delicious smell of your sweet wet cunt. You squirm and shutter in anticipation, remembering that this was one of Logan's favorite activities to do while you were together. 

He caresses your thighs a few times before finally giving you what you had been longing for so long.

His tongue circled your hole, dipping in a few times before flicking your clit.

He knew all of the tricks to make you absolutely melt.

He continued pleasuring you-- like no one else ever had before-- with his very skilled tongue.

“Auhh” you moan harshly as he inserts a finger into your sensitive core.

He never lets up, not even for a second. 

You never wanted the moment to end as you felt that feeling in your stomach build faster than you anticipated. 

“Oh fuck I’m close” you moan out, hips bucking up and down uncontrollably. 

“That’s it baby.” he growls, and holds your hips down so he can keep his mouth on that divine pussy. 

Finally releasing all of the wonderfully built up tension, you orgasm, and you orgasm hard. 

Everything goes white as you stay in your high for a solid 15 seconds. Your toes dug into the bed sharply as your back arched and you pulled on Logan’s hair. 

You become sensible again, and watch as he slides his finger out of you, licking it clean before doing the same to your overworked cunt. Flinching slightly as his tongue makes contact again. 

He gets up, and your immediate reaction is to tell him to stay. 

“You do realize this is my room, right?” 

You bite your lip and giggle slightly as he climbs into the bed and under the sheets. 

You snuggle into his hairy chest and let out a content sigh. 

Little did you know only a short while later he would be leaving just as before, never to see him again, until about 30 years later...

[the-witty-pen-name]

Plenty of Time

The Necklace Part Three 

Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader 

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, 18+ ONLY 

Based on this Request: 

“If you still need that inspiration… maybe an obi-wan thing where he makes the reader a beautiful necklace when they were young padawans and they get separated bc reader goes om a long mission but when they meet again as adults she still wears it and then he confesses his feelings (a bit of anakin teasing his master about his obvious feelings sprinkled in perhaps😂)”

Part One // Part Two 

A/N: Sorry it took so long to finish this series up. With coursework and other projects I was inspired to write, I had a hard time overcoming my writer’s block for this project! It is shorter than I hoped it would’ve been but regardless, I hope you all enjoy! Thank you again to @katevino for the inspiration for this series. 

Also, this is unedited!  

I didn’t include tags on this part because no one has specifically asked to be tagged in works containing smut (except for you all on my Deadbeat taglist!) but if you want to be on my general taglist, message me I’ll be sure to add you! 

Tags and Requests are OPEN

“I’m not leaving you again,” you whisper softly.

“Darling,” he mumbles, guiding your face gently to look him in the eyes. “Please don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“I love you,” you respond quickly, “Obi-Wan, it- it’s always been you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, his thumb runs across the beads that lay securely around your neck. He smiles, “I can’t believe you still wear this,” he marvels.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” you tease and he grins.

He leans down and presses his lips to yours finally. It’s feverish and passionate, and it takes you by surprise. It felt like he had taken everything he buried deep inside him for all those years and put all of it into that kiss. You melted at his touch, and nothing else mattered.

For the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan just let’s his emotions guide him and he just allows himself to explore everything he had denied himself the pleasure of knowing. He wants to the savor everything in the moment as much as he can before you both are hit with the realization the moment won’t last.

You run your hands through his hair and the little noises that escape your lips are just the best sound he’s ever heard. He memorizes your touch and memorizes how you feel. He pulls you are close as possible, but it’s still not enough. He pulls away from the kiss, and looks at you again. You see that his blue eyes are darker and clouded. You feel the atmosphere in the room had changed. As real as you knew it was, it still felt like a dream. He’s silently begging you to let this progress further and you tug gently at the hem of his tunic to let him know you need this just as badly.

You kiss him again, while you both undress each other. Perhaps that could have been an experience to savor, but you both were too needy to feel each other’s skin. You both work quickly to undress each other, only separating yourselves from your frantic kisses if you really needed to.

He helps guide you to the bed and he’s so attentive, making sure you’re comfortable. He waits for your permission before letting his hands freely wander every inched of your exposed skin. The feeling of his hands make you shiver and he laughs softly at the effect he has on you even after all this time. He leaves a trail of kisses and marks on your neck, and his beard gently scratches your skin. You love the feeling.

Your hands run up his torso, and he moans at the feeling. It’s deep and full of lust, and it sends a wave of excitement right through your whole body. His lips move further down your neck and collarbone, even pressing his lips to the necklace that still remained around your neck. His mouth moves down to the valley of your breasts, and then takes one of your nipples in-between his lips while one of his hands massages the other. You bite your lip at the sensation and your hands tangle themselves in his hair, tugging gently.

“Darling,” he groans against your skin at the sensation. He leans up and kisses your lips again, this time much softer, slower, very purposeful. While his tongue slips past your lips, he brings his hands down to between your thighs, rubbing your fold teasingly, and then rubbing your clit. You moan against his lips and you can feel his smile.

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispers in your ear and then trails kisses down your jaw and neck, as he pushes two fingers in. Your whole body reacts to his hand and your hands run down his back, scratching very lightly. Your hips instinctively buck up gently at his touch, and he chuckles, his hot breath on your skin. “Tell me what you want, darling?” he coos, and you have trouble answering.

“You’re the only thing I want,” you manage to say.

“Well, you have me, darling,” he replies as he adds another finger making you cry out in pleasure. “Always have.”

“Please,” you beg, overwhelmed by the feelings throughout your whole body from just his hand. “I’m close.”

He stops and you whine when he pulls his fingers from you. He presses his lips to yours again, suppressing your moans, as he pushes into you. You gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, but he mumbles praises against your lips while you adjust.

“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he praises, gently caressing your face. Soon the feeling turns into pleasure and you wrap your legs around his waist. You move your hips up, signaling him to move and he holds your hips as he moves.

His pace is slow, and sensual. With every movement he’s savoring the feeling and watching your every reaction so intently. Neither one of you were thinking about anything or anyone else besides each other. You both allow yourselves to just for once be incredibly selfish and put yourselves first. It’s absolute bliss. You move your hips, meeting his rhythm and he’s in awe of how you look. He watches your reactions to him, and his eyes linger on the necklace and how it moves across your collarbone.

“I love you,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he whispers, moving one of your legs over his shoulders and picks up his pace. The new angle allowing him to hit deeper, making you cry out in pleasure. Your eyes roll back at the new sensation and your head falls back into the pillow. “Cum for me, darling,” he begs, feeling his own release building up.

Your head is foggy when your orgasm affects your whole body, and before you can recover from your own, Obi-Wan finishes as well. You both are panting heavily, and he waits a few moments before pulling out. He takes a minute to just exist with you in the moment, running his hand through your hair, pushing the strands back that are fallen out of place. He pulls out gently, and then lays down next to you. He pulls you close against his chest, giving you both a minute to recover before you both go to clean up.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly, fear and vulnerability evident in his voice although he does his best to mask it.

“I’m not going to return to Alderaan,” you confirm, resting your head onto his chest. “I’m staying here.” You feel him let out a sigh of relief and he kisses the top of your head. Finally, you both are able to truly relax. For the first time in a very long time, you both have no battle with your emotions and everything feels so clear.

“We have a lot of time apart to make up for,” he chuckles, rubbing your back.

“We have plenty of time.”

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Six

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+, fluff, implied smut, angst, mentions of war, military technicalities

A/N: We are back to Captain Sy and Sgt Liv and they are adorable together. But! It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, right? A big thank you to @thelastsock​ for being the best beta ever!

<Chapter Five

Title: Captain Six

“We have support from the locals. Not all of them. But plenty.”

Sy nodded in understanding as Liv informed him about their recent advancements with the villagers. She was dressed in her fatigues, her hair neatly tied in a bun and standing with her hands behind her back. She stood confidently beside Sy’s Lieutenant, the soft city girl disappearing under the strong demeanor of a soldier.

“They want to stay hidden for the time being. But they trust us.” Pepps added, his gloved hands holding the straps of his vest.

“It won’t turn out like the teacher from last year?” Sy asked, glancing from Pepps to Olivia. He remembered the horrible incident where the one person who had decided to help them had been charred to death. He had reached the school to witness a wailing woman and spectators watching as the burnt corpse was being taken to shelter by his brother. The deceased’s wife was shouting curses at them which still to this day kept ringing in Sy’s ears.

“Not currently.” The confidence in Liv’s voice had faltered, her tone dropping an octave. She looked at Pepps nervously with pursed lips.

The Captain let out a sigh. He rubbed his beard and brought his arms up to cross them over his chest. Glancing at the soldiers standing in front of him, he leaned back on his chair. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Pepps picked up his gun from the chair and left the office, throwing a nod towards the Captain. Sy watched his Lieutenant walk out the door, leaving only him and Liv in the office. Away from prying eyes, Liv relaxed her shoulders and stood at ease. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she yawned while looking at Sy from the corner of her eyes.

An amused smile crept up on Sy’s bearded face. “Tired?”

Dragging another yawn out of her mouth, Liv smiled lazily at him. “I have been up since…I don’t know… Yesterday? Noon?”

“You had the night shift.” Sy remarked. He had noticed her posted at the barracks with Sloan as he was returning back to his room. She had been animatedly describing something to her comrade, laughing as Sloan had snorted in return.

“I could really take a nice massage.” She rubbed her neck while rolling her shoulders.

Sy smiled at his girl. He was absolutely enamored with the red-haired, gun wielding beauty. A week ago, he had finally kissed her tantalizing lips after agonizing over the thought for so long. He had felt his heart swell, hypothetical butterflies fluttering in his belly. She had tasted sweet; her soft supple lips had glided perfectly against his. The dipping sun had casted a soft glow on her face, making her hair shine like tendrils of lustrous copper.

“Come here.” He commanded with a flick of his hand. Liv raised an eyebrow at him with her hand resting on her neck. Sy tilted his head with a smile as he waited for Liv to move. With a moment of hesitation, she took slow steps towards him. In the week that had followed after their first kiss, they had stolen some more chaste kisses around the camp. Both of them, without voicing their choices, had resorted to keep their budding relationship on the down low. Even if two of their own Sergeants were parading around, openly declaring their love for each other, Sy and Liv could not risk that kind of behavior. They were leaders of their units after all. As much as Sy would love to kiss Liv out in the open, there was a decorum to maintain and Liv agreed.

“Close the door first.” Sy nearly chuckled as Liv’s eyes widened and she hurried towards the worn-out wooden door to his office. Swiftly shutting it close, Liv walked back to him. Sy glanced at her expectant eyes looking down at him. He spread his legs out on the chair and opened his arms, inviting her to sit on his lap.

Liv shook her head at him, rolling her eyes and gracing him with her beautiful smile before climbing on his lap. She straddled him, her hands circling his neck as Sy looked into her golden orbs. He placed a peck on her lips and brought his hands up behind her to work on her tensed shoulders. He pressed down gently on her aching muscles, which elicited a low moan from her. The mellifluous undertone of her voice stirred an arousal in his loins, her thighs rubbing against his crotch not making it any better.

“Now where would you get your massage back home?” He asked, distracting himself with releasing the taut muscles of their tension.

“There’s this place in Tribeca that I frequent when I am on leave.”

Sy felt Liv’s body ease against his as he kneaded his way through her back. He watched as she closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of relaxation. Her warm breath washed over his face as Liv let out appreciative mewls as he rubbed the aching spot behind her neck. She clutched his t-shirt tightly in her hands as he increased the pressure on the sore spot. Her hips jerked forward, rubbing against his groin making Sy take in a sharp breath.

“Easy there, little birdie.” Sy breathed out. He brought one hand on her cheek, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone and making her open her eyes to look at him. A glint of mischief danced in her whiskey-colored eyes matched by the quirk of her lips. She rocked her hips lightly against his whilst bringing her hand to caress the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

A shuddering breath escaped Sy’s lips as Liv’s crotch rubbed against his waking arousal. He brought both of his hands down to her hips, grabbing them tightly and stilling her from performing her ministrations on him. Her lips drew out in a pout, her bottom lip sticking out in disapproval.

Sy would have wanted nothing but to take her in his office. Fleeting thoughts about her sensuous, naked body sprawled beneath him had made him jerk off in the privacy of his room. Imaginations had run particularly wild when two nights ago, Sy had pulled Liv into the empty gym hall in the dead of the night. He had pushed her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head, capturing her in place. He was addicted to the feel of her hands on his chest, her lips on his and the breathy moans she elicited. Their chaste kisses had turned to a steamy make-out with tongue rolling against each other, hands grabbing at every inch of their bodies. He had kissed down her neck, pulling her shirt aside to run his warm tongue over her collarbone while Liv had palmed him over his shorts.

Sy knew they would have crossed the line if it wouldn’t have been for the night patrolling unit to come running down the stairs, just outside the gym.

“I think I should retire to my quarters.” Liv commented, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. “I need a long night’s sleep.” She muttered against his skin, yawning again.

Sy ran his hand soothingly over her back. He held her close to his body, listening to her breathing as she drifted in and out of sleep. He was aware she was overworked. Besides running their main objective of fetching the food truck, she had also immersed herself in the work of the Special Forces. Liv made sure to go out to the village and speak to the inhabitants with Sy’s men, trying to understand their problems and sympathizing with them. To add to her schedule, Sy and Liv woke up early most mornings to catch the sunrise whilst drinking tea. It was like a routine for them and Sy wasn’t complaining. Although everything was sunshine and roses for them at the moment, he also wanted her to open up to him.

Sy had spilled about his entire life in front of her. He did not want to keep secrets from her, and he wanted to know hers. His life was like an open book to her now but all he could do was read the title of hers. Liv was a closed off person, hiding behind snarky comebacks and friendly banter. Sy had tried asking about her life back home, but all he could gather was that she had a younger brother and her parents, all residing in New York.

He listened to her snore lightly as her arms fell down from around his neck. She felt feather light against his body, her lean thighs resting effortlessly over his thick ones. He couldn’t let her fall asleep on his lap for the night, but he decided to let her take a quick nap for a few minutes.

“You are so comfortable.” She mumbled after a few minutes. “Like a life-size teddy bear.”

Sy chuckled softly. Liv turned her face on his shoulder and started peppering kisses along Sy’s neck. He breathed in slowly, goosebumps rising on his arms. His shoulders were circled by Liv’s arms again, her hands resting lightly at the back of his neck. She left a wet trail of kisses from under his earlobe to the crook of his neck. Sy closed his eyes as desire stirred within him. He felt her breasts press against his chest as Liv arched her back while blowing her hot breath on his warm skin.

“Liv,” he drawled her name out. His hands rested on her waist pulling her closer to him.

Sy wanted to give his all to her. He wanted her to be his in ways more than one. But he knew so little about her. He wanted to connect to her, mind and body. Sy understood he was seen as someone who would sleep around, whoring his way around town. He was anything but.

“I don’t know anything about you.” He whispered out loud stilling Olivia in his arms.

She pushed herself away from him to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

Sy took a deep breath. He knew he would sound like an insistent, clingy boyfriend if he barraged her with questions about her life. Maybe it was too soon for them, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know her.

“I don’t know where you live and I’m not talking about the city.” He adds as her mouth opens to interject. “What about your family? Your friends? Your life outside the army?”

“Where is this coming from?” She tilted her head to the side and rested her hands on his chest.

“I told you about my first time in high school and so many embarrassing childhood memories. Things I haven’t told anyone before. Things people don’t expect me to remember.” He shook his head at himself, overwhelmed by his own vulnerability.

Olivia’s eyes softened as he blabbered about himself. She placed a hand on his cheek, gently rubbing his soft beard. “I feel honored to know such private details about your life. I’m not hiding anything.” He leaned against her hand, nodding in agreement. “Okay, so, I live in Brooklyn, not with my family. I have a whole of two friends outside the army and one distant cousin in Minneapolis. Schmidt is my best friend, as you must have noticed, and I didn’t go to college because I joined the army right after I graduated from high school.”

“You didn’t go to college?”

“Did you?” Her eyes widened at him.

Sy rubbed the back of his neck and adjusted in his seat. “I have a degree in political science.” He watched Liv’s mouth drop open and she blinked several times.

“Wow. You just got a whole lot sexier, Captain Syverson.” She leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips. “Lot more intelligent than silly me.”

Sy laughed at her silliness. He placed both of his hands on her cheeks and gazed at her, his eyes tracing every details of her face. His thumb grazed over her lips. He felt content with the new information about her life, but a particular question kept nagging him. “Were you with anyone before me?”

He watched as she shifted awkwardly on his lap. Her eyes dropped down to focus on his chest, her mouth pressing into a thin line. He looked at her with expectant eyes practically hearing the wheels turning in her mind.

“Everyone has a past.” She said, the mirth in her voice disappearing with her finger twisting in his t-shirt. “Let’s just say, for now, I shouldn’t have messed with someone’s feelings and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Sy could see she was uncomfortable talking about it. She refused to look him in the eye while she spoke, fixating on tracing circles on his chest instead. He brought his finger under her chin to make her look up. Her eyes held veiled emotions, silently pleading him to not coax her into talking about it any further. He smiled at her softly, nudging her nose with his.

“Okay.” He whispered, pecking her lips reassuringly. “Now you should go to bed. Food truck retrieval tomorrow.”

Sy let Liv climb off his lap, an emptiness filling his being at the loss of warmth from her body. He raked his gaze over the curve of her body as she stretched her arms above her head.

“See you in the morning?” She asked, walking towards the door. Her hand rested on the latch, waiting for his answer.

Sy nodded at her, watching as she opened the door and walked out into the corridor. The bustling sounds of the camp greeted his ears, bringing him back to the present, away from the cocoon he had with Liv.

That was twenty hours ago. The scorching desert heat beat down on him as they hurriedly drove to Camp Warhorse. Sy ached for those hours now. He wanted nothing more than to share more about her life. Engulf himself in her presence again. Comms blaring, commands coming from every direction. The SOS message from Echo team assigned to the food truck still rang in his ears.

"Chopper hit. We're under attack."

Sy’s heart was beating in his chest, thumping against his ribcage. Their engines roared as he pressed down on the accelerator, blowing sand as his tires skidded along the dirt road.

Blood chilled in his veins when the second message came through, clear in the chaos.

"Repeat, under attack. 3 wounded. 1 KIA."

Chapter Seven>

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