#don’t get me started on the spices and cooking materials

[quercus-queer]

I love corporate merging, I love when companies buy other companies it’s so fun and sexy hahaha… soo anyway… 99¢ store taking over Dollar Tree when 👁🫦👁

[familyvideostevie]

october second

day two: remus lupin you and remus make soup on a fall day | fluff, a bit suggestive | 1.1k

Sometimes the best days of your life are the most simple ones. Today is one of those days.

It’s barely fall but you’re in the mood. You’ve swapped out your flowered dish towels for ones with bright leaves on them, put out the tiny ghost figurines you bought last year, and you’ve packed away your sundresses in bins under your bed. The windows are open to let in the cool air and you’re standing in front of your fridge in a sweater that’s almost certainly too ragged to wear for another season.

The front door to your place opens and you hear your boyfriend’s keys rattle. “Anyone home?” Remus calls.

“Kitchen!” you call back. You think he laughs but you’re not sure. You’re too focused on how you have…nothing resembling a meal in your fridge.

“You look troubled, darling.” Remus leans on the door frame, arms crossed as he smiles softly at you. “Did the milk do something to offend you?”

You sigh. “I can’t figure out what to cook for dinner,” you say. “I don’t know if I’ve got the right things for what I planned to feed you.” Remus often cooks but you’ve been trying to improve your skill and had claimed tonight as one of your nights.

He shoves off the jamb and makes his way to you. You tilt your cheek up and he brushes his lips against it. Before standing behind you, hand on your hip. “Hm,” he says. “Do you want me to go to the shop? I can. I would’ve if you’d told me before.”

“Well, I didn’t know I’d run into this problem, before,” you retort. He chuckles and you lean back into his chest. Remus is one of the most sure things in your life — yes, that’s his personality, but also he makes an effort to be so for you. And you for him. He is good at soothing your anxieties about things going wrong, about problems and your own fears of all the unpredictable things about life. You, in turn, remind him to slow down, to take moments for himself, to ask for what he wants even if it puts you out. (It never puts you out.)

So, sure, a thwarted dinner is something you can handle together.

“Hang on,” Remus says. He shuts the fridge door and moves away from you, one large palm dragging across your shoulder so he can keep touching you as he looks in one of your cabinets. “Just as I thought,” he says.

“What?”

He grins your favorite grin, the one that makes him look boyish and unburdened. “You’ve got everything we need to make Potter soup.”

“Excuse me?” you sputter. Remus laughs and starts to pull things from the cabinet.

“James’s mum has a really great dish thats basically potato curry but better,” he says. “And I’m good at it because she likes me best and taught me how.”

“I’ll be he loves that,” you say. He grins at you again.

“You should have seen his face when she asked me to help make it over the school holidays when we were 17.”

Remus regales you with stories of boyhood shenanigans as he instructs you on how to help him cook. You chop vegetables, simmer water, gather spices. He’s patient when you’re quite slow at peeling the potatoes and plants a kiss on your temple every time he moves around you. You turn on the radio and try to no avail to get him to dance with you, though he laughs.

“You’re a marvel,” he says once the soup is simmering. The kitchen is warmer than it was, the stove and your efforts heating it up despite the now-evening chill coming in through the open window. You hop up onto the kitchen island and he steps between your legs.

“I slowed you down,” you say. He shakes his head.

“No one has ever had a sous-chef as gorgeous as you,” he says. His palms stroke up and down the soft material of your pants. You brush some hair from his forehead and trace your favorite of his scars down through his brow and across his cheek.

“You know,” you say, dragging out the words. “You didn’t kiss me proper when you came in.”

Remus raises his eyebrows at you. Really? his eyes say. “You were a bit busy being cross at the refrigerator, darling.”

“Excuses, Lupin,” you say primly.

“Lupin?” he scoffs. “Wow, I see how it is.” His hands wander up to your hips and he tugs a little, pulling you forward on the counter. You swallow a yelp.

“And how is that?” you say softly. Remus trails his fingers up your sides, making you squirm, before curling them around either side of your jaw.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Your boyfriend is often considered the calm one compared to his friends. He keeps them in check, he’s levelheaded, he’s mature. But he’s also a flirty shit when he wants to be. Like right now, it seems.

“Don’t tease,” you whisper. Remus relents, leaning in to kiss you soundly. It’s the kind of hello kiss you’d expected when he came home, the kind he gives you in public. A firm press of his lips, thumbs stroking the soft skin of your cheeks. And then it turns into something else. You hook your ankles around him and pull him even closer as he licks into your mouth with a moan that could have come from either of you.

He kisses you deeper, pulling away only to get a different angle, to press a finger to your pulse point to feel your heart go wild. It’s so cliche, making out in the kitchen after you’ve cooked together, but you love it. You love him.

You don’t know how long passes but when the timer goes off you have to push him away. His lips are swollen and slick, hair a riot, eyes bright despite their blown pupils. “Well,” he says. “You look a bit disheveled.”

You smack his shoulder. “Speak for yourself.” He backs up and you hop down from the counter to check the soup. “Does this look right?

Remus follows you, hands petting down his hair, and nods. “We made a bit much, didn’t we?”

You hum. “We could call everyone to come over,” you suggest.

He laughs. “We just snogged in the kitchen for who knows how long and now you want to invite all of our friends over for dinner? Are you sure you don’t want…something else?” His hand drags up and down your spine.

You shiver and then your stomach rumbles. “I’m hungry,” you say. “You can be filthy later.”

His expression says who, me?

“Plus I want to see James’s face when he realizes someone else can make this better than he can.”

Remus laughs and heads for the phone.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[basementdoll]

Spanish Inquisition

Wednesday 13

What does this part-time Murderdoll, chicken lovin’, eyebrow shavin’, horror movie watchin’ dread head have to say for himself when Cardinal Doran asks him your questions and applies the thumbscrews? Read on and find out. Noose of the world: Brother Naki.

Weds: “Right, you must be here to ask me lots of offensive questions?”

Hammer: Usually when we do this we only get questions about how gay are you or how much dick do you love to suck, but this time we’ve only got questions about chickens.

Weds: “Cool! Questions from real fans!”

READ THAT YOU HAD A PET CHICKEN, OMAR. DID YOU JUST GET SICK OF LOOKING AFTER HIM AND EAT HIM?

Pear Black, Via Email

Weds: “No. Unfortunately, not being farmers or anything and not knowing how to take care of chickens, he died. We had a little chicken coop at the side of our guitar amps and our drums. It was the summer, we’d go to practice and leave him and he died of heat exhaustion. So I chopped off his legs and made a little memorial for him by hanging them off my guitar but they got ripped off during one gig. Peace Omar.” [Thumps heart emotively.]

Hammer: What benefits are there to having a chicken instead of a normal pet like a cat?

Weds: “None. The reason I got the chicken was cos when I was a kid people always told me that people like Ozzy Osbourne and Alice Cooper used to bite the heads off chickens live on stage and drink their blood. So for me, I’ve always associated chickens with rock’n’ roll. I never wanted to kill the chicken, I just always wanted it to be there. I'd recommend your readers get a cat instead.”

Hammer: But chickens are good for voodoo rituals as well.

Weds: “And for feathers…”

Hammer: Say if you were going to cook a chicken, what recipe would you use?

Weds: “I’m a big fan of Cajun chicken. I bake chicken pretty much every day of my life, except when I’m on tour because you don’t have access to a stove. You put the chicken in the oven and sprinkle it with salt, pepper and spices and cook it until it isn’t pink in the middle - unless you want to get sick.”

WITH ERIK JOINING NAPOLEON BLOWNAPART, BEN IN NOCTURNE, ACEY IN TRASH LIGHT VISION AND JOEY IN SLIPKNOT, IS THERE ANY HOPE FOR THE MURDERDOLLS GETTING BACK TOGETHER?

Decaying Wench, Hell, Third Door On The Left

Weds: “Well, yeah. There’s always hope. Everybody’s doing their own thing. Joey went back to Slipknot and I started doing this so everybody had to find something to do. I can only speak for myself, because I don’t know what the other guys are doing, but I’m putting 100 per cent into this and it is my number one priority, I’m going to tour this record for as long as I want to. But when the time comes right, everybody feels like doing another Murderdolls record and everybody is on the same page, then yeah, I’ll do it. But there’s no way it’ll happen next year.”

Hammer: How has the material off ‘Transylvania 90210’ been going down?

Weds: “Amazing. I was expecting to get raked across the coals but the kids have been digging it and the reviews from the journalists have been really good as well. People are telling me that it’s much more diverse than the Murderdolls; a lot more like a rollercoaster ride and it’s got many different levels to it.”

HEY TUESDAY, DON’T YOU THINK THAT THE MURDERDOLLS SOUNDS LIKE A REALLY BAD GOFF PORN WEBSITE?

Dan, Chiswick

Weds: “I don’t go to goth porn websites and I don’t think it sounds anything like one. Frankenstein Drag Queen sounds more like a goth porn website.”

Hammer: What are your views on pornography?

Weds: “It happens. I don’t find myself ringing lines or going on websites but if that’s what people do and it makes them happy then more power to them. You won’t be finding me turning up in any porn films by the way. Unlike Fred Durst.”

Hammer: He didn’t come out of that looking well.

Weds: “Fred Durst doesn’t come out of anything looking well.”

SAW YOUR TATTOOS IN METAL HAMMER AND WANTED TO KNOW THE TATTOOIST’S NAME?

Chris, South Africa

Weds: “There was this old guy that I used to go to in my home town of Charlotte, North Carolina but the guy pissed me off and I don’t go to him any more. My new guy is called Mark Evans, who did my stitches which are healing up and he did the new Michael Myers tattoo. I don’t promote my old guy because he was a douchebag.”

Hammer: Did you weep like a six year old girl watching ET when you got them done?

Weds: “No. As I was getting them done I was watching Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure so I was laughing. They hurt though. The ones on the wrists, I think I would have been better just chopping my hands off and sewing them back on: it would have hurt less. It was pretty painful.”

AS THE FUTURE PRESIDENT OF KFC, WHICH DO YOU PREFER: POPCORN CHICKEN OR A FAMILY BUCKET?

Cyhiraeth 13, Via Email

Weds: “Family bucket. Popcorn chicken is different here. In America it is actually just what is left over from the other chicken in the bottom of the tray dumped into a bucket. But also the way you guys cut chicken here is totally different. It baffles me, I don’t know what I’m eating. In America you have a leg, a breast, a thigh and a wing. Over here you have a throat, an ass, an elbow…”

Hammer: We don’t have chicken’s elbows.”

Weds: “What the hell am I eating here? It’s all fucking mixed up, I think I had a throat today!”

Hammer: Just say you developed a food intolerance to chicken what would you do then?

Weds: “I’d eat turkey. I’d just move from one bird to another. And turkey’s better for you.”

Hammer: You should try ostrich. Terminator X, the old DJ from Public Enemy, is now an ostrich farmer in the USA, that’s why he doesn’t go on tour with them because someone’s got to stay home and look after the ostriches.

Weds: “I can’t say that I’ve seen a Kentucky Fried Ostrich restaurant yet but when I do I’ll stop by. I fancy a KFO.”

RECENTLY MY MUMMY BROUGHT HOME A BABY CHICK. AS YOU USED TO HAVE A PET CHICKEN, CAN YOU GIVE ME A FEW TIPS ON HOW TO MAKE IT BE QUIET? ITS TWEETING IS DRIVING ME INSANE.

Eddie, London

Weds: “There’s no way to keep them quiet. Keep them out of the heat. Don’t feed them after midnight. They will actually eat anything you put in front of them. They’ll eat chicken, so give your chicken some KFC and watch it become a cannibal.”

IF YOU COULD REMAKE A HORROR MOVIE AND STAR IN IT, WHAT WOULD IT BE AND WHICH CHARACTER WOULD YOU TAKE?

Charlotte Humphreys, Andover

Weds: “Probably The Abominable Dr Phibes and I would be Dr Phibes because he was the master of revenge and it is my favourite Vincent Price movie. He didn’t really even have to talk to be frightening.”

HEY WEDNESDAY, I WAS WONDERING IF YOU MANAGED TO EAT ONE MILLION PIECES OF FRIED CHICKEN IN 2004 LIKE YOU PREDICTED YOU WOULD?

Storm McCracken, Paraparaumu, New Zealand

Weds: “There’s a good possibility, yeah. I lost count along the way but probably. Not this year though because I turned over a new leaf and now I only eat grilled chicken. I’ve been trying to make sure that I don’t have a heart attack before I’m 30.”

Hammer: Speaking as a bit of a tubby bastard, I was wondering how you stay so slim on such a chicken rich diet?

Weds: “It is basically not eating fried chicken. I went on a diet and I lost 40lbs which shows you how bad it can be.”

COULD A REGULAR PERSON KILL A SHEEP WITH JUST ONE PUNCH TO ITS FACE? I DON’T THINK SO.

Ken B Wild, The Fields 

Weds: “Hmmm. It depends on the person. Me? No. I can’t punch a sheep to death but say you’re Tor Johnson from the Ed Wood films, the big guy, he could probably hit a sheep once and break its spine.”

Hammer: I reckon The Thing from The Fantastic Four could waste a sheep.

Weds: “Well, Tor Johnson is probably the closest a human has ever got to being The Thing.

Hammer: What is the biggest creature that you’ve ever killed? Purposefully, that is. Not just forgetting that you’ve left a chicken in a hot room.

Weds: Probably a grasshopper. I don’t hurt animals. When I was a kid I used to do mean stuff but I don’t now. I go out of my way not to hurt stuff.”

DO YOU STILL BELIEVE IN THE EASTER BUNNY?

Goldfinger Rule 502, Via Email

Weds: “Hell yeah! He just came to my house a couple of months ago. He brought my kid a box of candy and $20.”

Hammer: What are your favorite kinds of sweets?

Weds: “I love peanut M&MS. Those things are addictive. I will eat about 10 bags a day if I don’t watch it.”

DEAR WEDNESDAY 13, ARE THINGS STILL TENSE BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR RIVAL THURSDAY 14?

Antibody, Via Email

Weds: “Yeah, we’re still going head to head. One day we’ll meet and slug it out but I will win.”

Hammer: It’s Wednesday the 13th soon, do you do anything out of the ordinary on those days?

Weds: “Not normally but this year we are doing the London show so that should be really remarkable.”

DOES YOUR MOTHER FEEL ASHAMED THAT HER GROWN UP SON FEELS THE NEED TO DRESS LIKE A SPAZZ AND WEAR BAD MAKE-UP?

Eyen, Poshland

Weds: “My mom’s pretty proud of me. She goes out and buys all of the magazines and everything else. She is totally supportive of me and is into what we’re doing.”

WHO WOULD WIN IN A FIGHT BETWEEN A GRIZZLY BEAR AND A SIBERIAN TIGER?

Bobby G, Via Email

Weds: “A grizzly man! You can’t fight a bear! I’ve seen a bear- you can’t fight them.”

Hammer: You saw a bear?

Weds: “On TV. In a zoo. You can’t fight them.”

Hammer: My Chemical Romance got attacked by a moose once. What is the biggest animal you’ve ever been attacked by?

Weds: “I got attacked by a Doberman when I was eight years old. And they can kill you. The dog had cancer and it had this giant tumour on its side and they were going to put it to sleep in a few weeks. But it came up to me while I was on my trampoline and put its legs up and started growling. I was like, ‘Oh shit, what do I do?’ So I decided to try and run down the hill to get home and the dog jumped at me, knocked me down and I ate grass. It never bit me but it stayed right on my ass growling and I just cried all the way home. Which is OK if you’re eight: a Doberman could bite your arm off!”

Hammer: If you say so. Are you nervous about dogs now?

Weds: “I’m not a big dog fan. I like cats and small dogs but big dogs give me the old phobia.”

ISN’T WEDNESDAY A GIRL’S NAME, LIKE THAT BINT OUT OF THE ADDAMS FAMILY? SHOULDN’T YOU BY RIGHTS BE CALLED PUGSLEY 13?

Mr D Monkey, No Fixed Abode

Weds: “Well you know, I don’t have to buy the rights to be named after the day of the week and yeah, I was totally inspired by the character out of The Addams Family, I’ve always admitted that and never tried to hide it. She was always much cooler than Pugsley because he was a little fat guy.”

WHY DON’T YOU HAVE A JASON VOORHEES TATTOO?

War Machine, Via Email

Weds: “It’s in the process. I’m getting Voorhees and Freddie very soon. So gimme some time dude!”

WEDNESDAY, WHY DO YOU SHAVE YOUR EYEBROWS OFF? IT MAKES YOU LOOK LIKE A PLOPHEAD.

He Man, Reading

Weds: “A plophead? A guy with a plop on his head? What is that? If you mean shit head, say shit head. You know, I shave my eyebrows off for one simple reason: my hair is blond. When my eyebrows grow out they are blond, it just doesn’t look good. I don’t have cool eyebrows, so I shave them off. You can hardly see them anyway. I do notice not having them because of the sweat. If you ever see me on stage squinting like this [scrunches up face as if in agony] that means my eyes are burning out of my fucking head.”

[daimyosprincess]

INTERLUDE: IDYLL

—PAIRING: Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader

—SUMMARY: Taking a little inspiration from some literature, Professor Fett indulges you in one of your fantasies.

—WORD COUNT: 10.4k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, professor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is mid-twenties and Boba is late forties), reader described as having enough hair to grab, alcohol consumption by reader and others, Dom/sub power dynamics (Dom!Boba and sub!reader), BDSM elements, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), lots of petnames, praise kink, dirty talk, mild degradation (discussed beforehand, use of “slut” and “whore”) choking, (sugar) Daddy kink, money kink, consensual non-consent (marked in story, can skip over and still enjoy the rest of the spice)

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Welcome back y'all! I hope you guys have a sweet tooth because this ten thousand words of pure sugar baby filth 🤑 I chose the title "Idyll" because of its associations with romance and the fact this one-shot is an interlude between Vols. I and II, and to keep with the literature theming for part titles (and yes also because I think I'm clever lmao).

A big thank you as always to @agirlnamejacq and @rexxdjarin for betaing this series, and thank you to you my beloveds for all the support and feedback 💖

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

<Part V

The idea hadn’t left your head since you read that Maker-forsaken chapter in the book Selena recommended to you. It’s dogged you for days, scrambled your thoughts, and ruined every pair of panties you’ve worn this week just thinking about it. You’d come embarrassingly quickly on your fingers the night before fantasizing about the plan you’d made to turn the chapter’s plot into your and Boba’s reality this weekend. Watching the clock tick down until five o’clock today had felt like literal torture; you’re so ready for the work week to end and your sexy little scheme to begin.

Your nerves thrum with excitement as you make your way to Boba’s front door with your overnight bag slug across your shoulder and the groceries you’d picked up balanced on your hip. Jiggling the key he’d given you in the lock, you ease over the threshold into the house, careful as not to drop anything. Setting your bag to the floor, you begin flicking on lights as you make your way to the kitchen.

Boba had to deliver some materials to another member of his department after class, giving you just enough time to start some dinner to surprise him with when he got home. With midterms fast approaching, he’d been putting in longer weeks and though he never complained, you know he could use a good home cooked meal and a little extra fun in the bedroom to take the edge off.

Once the groceries are sorted, you put on some light music and pour yourself a glass of the sweet wine Boba gets especially for you since you don’t care for dry reds he prefers. The kitchen is soon filled with the fragrant scent of onion and garlic as you busy yourself with the meal preparation, cutting and sauteing and seasoning, losing yourself in the familiar process.

Sometime later you hear the front door shut, signaling Boba’s arrival home. You wipe your hands on the blue-striped dishrag to your left and pluck another wine glass down from the shelf, filling it with the velvety red wine your professor favors.

“Careful, princess,” Boba’s luscious voice warns, “a man could get used to coming home to a beautiful woman cooking his dinner.”

And I could get used to doing it, you think as you re-cork the bottle, especially since this domestic stuff always has him on his knees wanting to have me for dessert. 

You can’t help the flirty smile that blossoms across your face as you take his glass in hand and turn to face him. Your response evaporates from your wine-sweet lips, however, when you see the colorful bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your eyes travel up his arms to his broad shoulders before landing on his pleased expression and twinkling eyes. “Looks like we’re both full of surprises,” you grin—the flowers are your favorite kind. 

Boba winks, “Gotta keep my best girl happy since I haven’t gotten to see her much this week.” He closes the space between you, setting the flowers on the counter so he can link his arms around your waist. 

“And I have to keep Daddy fed so he has the energy to keep up with me all weekend,” you tease before pressing a kiss to his lips. Boba eagerly accepts it and his hand slides down to grab a fistful of your ass, jostling the wine glass in between your bodies. You pull back, doing your best to look annoyed. “If you spill this on me, I’m going to make you lick up every last drop.”

A chuckle rumbles in Boba’s warm chest pressed against you. “Is that supposed to be a threat, sweetheart? ‘Cause it sounds like an incentive to me.”

You make a scandalized noise, your free hand falling onto your chest. “Sir, how dare you! I am a proper young lady who-” You’re cut off by Boba’s mouth on yours, his tongue dragging slowly along your bottom lip and making the rest of whatever you were going to say slip from your mind.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmurs smugly into your kiss, grinding his hips into yours.

You lean back farther this time, arching a brow at him. “Keep it up, professor, and your dinner’s going to be burnt.” After a moment, Boba sighs dramatically in defeat and releases you to peek at what you have on the stove. Pressing his drink into his hand, you shoo him away. “Ah ah ah! No taste tests! Go change and it’ll be ready by the time you come back.” Grumbling, he complies and you watch him disappear off to his bedroom. 

Oh, just you wait until you hear the plans I have for you, Professor Fett.

After dinner, you’re curled into him on the couch with your shared nightcap in your hand. The sated, cozy atmosphere of the room combined with the low light of the lamps lends an intimate feeling to the space as you finish your dinner discussion. 

“So there’s something you wanted to ask me about, pretty girl?” Boba asks, his fingers trailing up your arm leisurely. 

You take a quick sip of the whiskey, not that you need it, and smile up at him. Finally, the time has come to reveal the desire that’s been consuming you all week. “Mmm, yes there is. It’s about what I want to do with you this weekend… something I read in the book Selena recommended to me.” Thrilling heat begins to creep up your neck at what you’re about to describe to him.

Taking a sip of the liquor from your cup, Boba sets it on the side table to give you his full attention. “I’m all ears, princess,” he purrs with eyes brimming with glimmering darkness, his other hand clamping down on your hip to pull you even closer into him. His posture remains attentive, however, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Welllll,” you draw out, enjoying the last of the suspense, “in this book, the girl falls in love with a super good-looking guy who gets coffee at the same café as her, who, as it turns out, is also super rich.” Boba hums in amusement and you have to swallow back the urge to jump him right then and there, though just barely; as tempting as making out with him is, your next words are far more important. “This rich, handsome man ends up taking the heroine out to buy some very expensive jewelry so that he can fuck her in nothing but the diamonds he bought her.” 

Glancing up, you see Boba has a devilish smile on his face. In the beginning of your relationship, you might have gotten a little shy at this point, a bit bashful about the nature of your desire for this god of a man.

Not now, however. With Boba’s reassuring hand and your agreed-upon rules at your back, you’ve sailed into uncharted seas, uncovering more than you ever thought possible along his shores: pleasures and comforts more satisfying and valuable than even the most lustrous of the ocean’s treasures. He is your north star, a guide who impels, rather than compels, as you discover your personal and shared splendors.

 Boba’s large hands snake around your waist to pull you over the thick of his thighs, your knees hugging the outside of his hips. “And has all this given my little princess some ideas?” he prompts with a knowing smirk.

A breathy laugh slips past your lips as he grinds the growing bulge in his pants into your core: your professor can get harder quicker than the boys half his age you’d been with. Focus, you chide yourself, you haven’t even gotten to the good part. Anchoring yourself in the depths of his mahogany eyes, you bite your lip. 

“Lots of ideas,” you confirm, tipping forward to place slow kisses up his jaw, “Ideas about how I want you to give me that full sugar baby experience… designer clothes, shoes, jewelry, everything.” Scalding heat flashes through your entire body as you relay your wicked request. When you reach his ear, you can feel the way his breath catches when you trace its shell with the tip of your warm tongue, his burning heat washing over you. “Then I want you to make me earn every single kriffing penny you spent, want you to make me prove that I’m Daddy’s girl inside and out.”

The unfiltered grit of Boba’s groan has you gushing like sin itself is stroking you between your thighs. “Oh babygirl, you want Daddy to spoil you then put you in your place? Give you everything your little heart desires then take it out of that sweet pussy? Fuck you like that’s all you’re good for?” he grunts, yanking your shirt to the side so he can suck a bruise into your exposed shoulder. His teeth graze over the damp skin under his lips, nipping at the tender flesh. “Fuck, you’re so filthy and perfect, just for me… mmph, just for me. Come here, sweetheart.” 

Cupping your face with battle-worn hands, Boba crushes his mouth against yours, hot, hungry, and demanding. Your chest is already heaving with the weight of your arousal from the mere discussion of your fantasy as he steals the air from your lungs, his tongue greedily licking into the heat of your mouth. Licentious warmth pricks your cheeks and simmers in your belly to see he’s also turned on by your lewd wishes—it makes you want nothing more than to tear into him right here and now.

Boba’s hands are already rocking your hips over the straining fabric of his erection, sending all your blood and attention to the slick apex of your thighs; the sinful huffs of pleasure coming from him are eating through the last of your fluttering restraint. Fisting the collar of his t-shirt to gather your resolve, you pant out the last of your request into your kiss. “A-and I want you to-shit-to shove your money down my brand-new dress and panties and fuck me in it.” 

A deep growl of pure desire claws its way up his throat, and straight to your pussy. “Kark, shit, w-we’ll talk about the rest of this later, filthy girl, I need you right fucking now.” 

You’re in his bed with open arms and open legs before the minute is out.

Clipping the straps of the garter band to the rest of the gorgeous lingerie set, you smile at yourself in the mirror of the elegant dressing room. The entire day has been better than you ever could’ve imagined, and kriffing hell if you don’t look good in this scarlet lace. It’s been worth every minute you spent waiting… and Boba hasn’t even fucked you yet.

He’s taken your fantasy very seriously—wining and dining you at restaurants you didn’t even know existed between trips to stores you’d only ever heard of from fashion magazines—and, if the hard-on he’s rubbed against your ass at every opportunity is any indication, is enjoying everything just as much as you are. You couldn’t help but suck him off in the backseat of his Audi wearing your new emerald earrings and bracelet to show him just how grateful his little princess could be.

As promised, the two of you had negotiated the details of today’s fun after your tryst the night before: materially, you’d get whatever you wanted but you’d have to be on your absolute best sugar baby behavior, meaning no sass, no back talk, and using good manners all day. The professor has quite enjoyed the deal thus far, and hasn’t hesitated to remind you of it every time a brattish look colors your expression. You’d been good though… mostly.

“Careful, little one. I’d hate to have to take you back early and remind you of the rules before you got to pick out something to wear tonight.” 

“What? All I said was that you’re an old-”

“I know my babygirl isn’t going to make the same mistake twice, is she?”

“Erm-I mean no, sir. Sorry, Daddy.” 

For the actual sex itself, you’d gone over the terms, bondage, and acts you both were comfortable with since you wanted a more intense scene than your usual. You made sure to ask what aftercare Boba wanted for the same reason: you’d read about dom-drop and wanted to avoid it at all costs, especially since your boyfriend is being so solicitous of your fantasies. The overwhelming amount of unspoken love in his eyes after you asked him nearly brought tears to your own, even more so when all he requested is to hold you skin to skin in a warm bath—Boba Fett is truly a man like no other. 

You give yourself one last once over in the floor length mirror before parting the dressing room curtains to step into the private viewing room. Boba’s eyes go wide when he looks up to see you standing there: you’re a vision of rosy temptation, ready, willing, and wrapped up in a bow just for him. His hand brushes over his crotch and you spin around so he can see just how much of your ass is not left to the imagination. 

Peeking over your shoulder with big doe eyes, you flash him a dazzling smile. “I really like this set, I think it might just be the one.”

He wets his parted lips with a slow tongue, his eyes sable and voracious as they rake over you. “Oh really now, princess? How about you come over here and show Daddy just why you like it so much.” 

Biting your lip, you bend slowly, pushing out your tits even more as you slip on the red bottoms he’d got you and saunter over to where he’s seated on the plush couch. With your hands on the curves of your hips, you lightly kick his feet wider apart so you can step between his open thighs. He allows it, amber flames dancing in his irises as he watches you preen under his gaze—there’s nothing like his little angel to bring his hellfire to the surface.  

Hooking your thumbs under the bra’s dainty straps, you pull them out a bit and slowly slide your hands down as you keep eye contact with him. “See, sir,” you murmur with a silky voice, “I like the little bows… the ribbons…” When the backs of your thumbs slide over your nipples on their path downward, your eyes slide shut at the sensation. “Mmmph, I like the pretty lace, too.” You release your fingers and slide your palms slowly down your waist; when you feel the garter belt, your eyes flutter open.

Boba’s jaw is clenched and his eyes locked onto where the tips of your middle fingers have come to lazily trace the heart cut-outs just above your hip bones. The skin over his knuckles is stretched tight as he balls his hands into fists on his thighs, the buttons of his crisp shirt are straining from the depth of his breathing. 

“I like these little hearts,” you continue, your tone dropping to sultry smoke as your fingers slip down to the panties, “and this cute bow…” Your dominant hand slithers farther between your legs to stroke over the thin material covering your folds while your other hand finds its way back up your torso to knead your breast. “O-oh, and I… I-I like how these panties feel over Daddy’s little pussy.” Your own breath shakes with your arousal and your head tips back, exposing the smooth length of your throat, liquid heat pumping under your pulse point. 

A ragged curse slips from Boba’s lips and it makes your entire body tremble; you’re unraveling this masterpiece of a man thread by thread without so much as the whisper of a touch. The taste of power is thick on your tongue—he might be in charge, but he is still a man at a woman’s mercy. 

Your fingers slide under the waistband to pull the lower garment up so that it sinks into your slit and your lips spill over the sides. “B-but most of all, sir,” you rasp, bobbing your head back forward to stare directly into his yearning soul, “I like how much it makes you want to fuck me.”

The earth stops spinning for a heartbeat as his pupils blow out to eclipse his umber eyes. “Put your fucking dress back on, princess,” Boba orders roughly, “because the second I’m finished paying, I’m leaving with you in that, covered up or not.”

You do as you’re told, making sure to toss a cheeky wink at the silently judgemental sales clerk on the way out, and another one to the amused woman behind the hotel desk as Boba guides you with a firm hand on your hip up to the penthouse suite he booked for the night. You can practically smell the ozone of the imminent storm that’s been building between the two of you since the night before—all that’s left is to pierce his dark cloud and be washed away down to your most primal being in the tempest of his desire.

No sooner is the room’s door shut then you throw yourself into the howling winds of lust that have been tearing through bones all day. There’s no time to admire how stunning the suite is, not when his hands and lips are on you with a bruising, burning passion that might as well be a force of nature. For a few minutes there’s only him and the sensations he elicits, a wild and unrestrained fervor that almost convinces you that you’ll get away with having him easy. 

Of course, once the eye of the storm swirls around the pair of you, that flimsy hope is banished when Boba draws back from your kiss. “Hey, easy now, babygirl. I need you to listen so we can start.”

The way his glossy, kiss-swollen lips form around his words threatens to derail your focus completely, but you swallow down your fervor as best you can; you won’t get what you truly want if you don’t check in with him first. You squeeze your eyes shut in a hard blink. “I’m… I’m listening,” you rasp, your voice already ragged at the edges.

“Good girl,” he praises gently, brushing his lips on your forehead. “The role play we talked about last night still what you want to do? Any changes you want to make?” His right hand comes up to massage the tension in your neck.

Your heart is pumping hot and ready in your chest, it’s all you can do not to grind your thigh into his very obvious erection. You can’t look at him, not when he’s too tempting with his earth-warmed eyes and sun-colored features. Burying your face into his neck, you sound an affirmative from the safety of your favorite spot.

A cimmerian chuckle rumbles in his warm chest. “You’re so ready, aren’t you, pretty baby? I know, I know. Tell me about the stoplight system we talked about yesterday and I’ll make all your dirty little dreams come true.”

“Green means good, yellow means slow down and check in, red means stop like our safeword and three taps,” you rattle off without hesitation, curling your fingers into his shirt over and over again as electric anticipation crackles through your nerves. You’re embarrassingly wet and Boba hasn’t even done anything yet… Maker help you when he does.

He presses a kiss into your hair, guiding your head up to look into your eyes. “That’s my smart girl,” he beams, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “Now remember, we’re checking in again before the actual sex since this is our first time doing a scene like this.” Accepting your nod of understanding, he asks if you’re ready to start.

“Fucking stars above, yes, I’m ready!”

[start of consensual non-consent]

It’s like a whole new man materializes before your very eyes, one with lurid intentions and inescapable demands as the gentle hand on the back of your neck comes to settle possessively around your throat. “Well then, princess, it looks like you have some debts to settle with me,” he informs you, his canines flashing in a wolfish smile.

Your game has only just begun and the thrill of your vulnerability has your pulse jumping under his thick fingers. You blink at him with wide, innocent eyes, playing along. “But Daddy, what debts? I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boba tuts, the sound lush with false sympathy, his eyebrow arching up in a cruel look. “You think all those pretty things I got you just come for free, little one? That there would be nothing taken in return?” His words are followed by a greedy handful of your ass that crushes you against his chest and makes his belt buckle dig uncomfortably into your soft stomach.

“W-what do you mean?” you whimper, squirming and ensnaring yourself further into his trap, “I-I thought you bought me all those things because you l-love me.” Offering up a flowery smile, you paw at his chest in an effort to ward off his perverse intentions, your heart hammers out danger against your ribs. It pushes you towards fight or flight, but your self-preservation is no match for your fatal attraction.

“Love?” he scoffs viciously, icing out your budding attempt to sway him, “Who said anything about love, sweetheart? Is that what you think this is, is that what you’ve been filling your pretty head with?” His fingers twitch around your throat and your lip starts to tremble pitifully. “Aww, poor baby,” he mocks with a sardonic smile, his hand releasing its grip on your neck so his thumb can roll down your quivering lip. “You gonna cry about it?”

Maybe it’s your latent instincts actually kicking in, or maybe you’re just that much of a brat, but either way you’re not going to let this man get away with everything, especially in that tone of voice. Jutting your head forward, you bite down on this thumb and shove your hands between your bodies to push away from him. You manage to turn and take a harried step towards the other side of the room before you’re roughly snatched back by the hair. Yelping at the sudden sharp pain in your scalp, your hands flying up in an attempt to free yourself.

“Oh no you don’t,” Boba hisses, ignoring your pained protests as he pulls your back against his body, locking his arm around your waist.

You struggle and kick at his shins, doing your best to escape the much stronger man. As sweat beads along your brow and your muscles begin to burn with exertion, you realize far too late that he’s just letting you tire yourself out. “Let… me… go!” you demand with the last of your strength, slamming the ball of your foot down onto his shoe.

Boba sucks in a sharp breath and you know you’re fucking in for it now just from that sound alone, your thighs pressing together against throb between them. “You done now? Made your point?” he asks with a dangerous amount of calm, his voice as still as the sea before a storm. “Because the harder you fight, the rougher I’ll have to be, sweetheart.”

That should not be as hot as it fucking is. His threat has the twin flames of arousal and fear burning you alive from the inside out, your opposing desires for mercy and ruin warring within your chest. “No, wait! I’m sorry," you plead, "Please don’t hurt me, I-I promise I’ll be good!” You sniffle and do your best to well some tears in your eyes, wanting to make your performance as good as your boyfriend’s. “I’ll do anything you want, just… please!”

Boba bites down into the soft flesh of your shoulder and you have to stifle a moan. His hand in your hair loosens fractionally, allowing you enough movement to give him access to your neck, which he greedily claims with harsh kisses. “Anything you say? But princess,” he taunts, his breath hot on your damp skin, “you were already going to give me whatever I want… you know why?”

Heart in your throat, you choke on your own lust-fueled words so that all you can do is shake your head in the negative. His absolute dominance and your prurient desire are melting away the last of your reason and restraint, especially when his lips find that sensitive spot just below your ear. Alternating between sucking his mark into your skin and muttering into your ear, he continues in a coarse, strident tone. “Because I own you. From the top of your pretty head down to all ten of your princess toes, you’re mine. You’re Daddy’s girl and you’re going to do just as he says… isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

As sinfully delightful as all this feels, Boba is way too smug for your liking. The wheels turning in your head are spinning furiously to come up with another escape plan to further provoke him and draw out your game. Grinding your ass back against his crotch, you sigh and go loose like you’ve given up, even letting a few small moans slip past your lips for good measure. Boba takes the bait—and truthfully, you think about taking it too—releasing your hair and hips so he can grope your tits.

Now!

Forcing all the air from your lungs, you slide down out of his grasp, stumbling a bit in your high heels but making out of his reach all the same. Boba growls and you can feel the flurry of air as he makes to grab you again, but you duck and manage to dodge him. Heart pounding in your ears, you make a run for the next room, hitting the lights so they go dark. Panting, you lean against the wall next to the door to suck in a lungful of air only to have it knocked right back out of you a second later when you’re slung over his strong shoulder.

You howl in dismay at being caught so soon, kicking and pounding on Boba’s back as he hauls you over to the king-size bed. He asks for your color and you answer “green,” to which he squeezes your hip affectionately before falling back into character. “You sneaky little brat, you really thought you could get away from me?” he laughs cruelly, slapping your ass with a stinging palm. He reaches the bed in a few strides and tosses you onto the mattress like you weigh nothing. 

It makes you gush, your pleasure in your core already beginning to tighten as your ass cheek prickles and burns. Head spinning and vision blurred at your sudden change in position, you scramble up the sheets to put distance between the two of you in a final desperate attempt to elude the man you so desperately want to catch you.

“You got a tight little cunt and a warm little mouth that will pay off your debt nicely. There’s no point in fighting it, sweetheart,” he continues to taunt, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt with practiced ease, “Might as well enjoy it, because you’re not getting out of it.” He discards his shirt, his tattoos gleaming in the sunlight peeking in through the windows; he’s as handsome and dark as a panther about to pounce on its prey. 

In all your haste, you’ve tangled yourself in the bedclothes well within his reach, and the wet heat slicking the inside of your thighs and underwear is bleeding the fight from you. That’s not going to stop me from giving this old man a run for his money… literally, you smile to yourself. You have one more trick up your sleeve but you don’t have much time with the way Boba is prowling toward you with the ease of someone at the top of the food chain. 

“W-what are you going to do to me?” you whimper, doing your best to distract him from the fact you’re untangling your foot. 

He gives you a chilling smile. “Oh, little princess,” he husks with a tantalizing, twisted heat, “I think you know exactly what I’m going to do to you.” 

He leans down to grab you, but you pull your knee up to catch him in the center of his chest with your designer heel. Boba’s expression flashes with wicked desire at the challenge, a hungry smirk turning up his lips. “Fast little thing, aren’t you?” he grunts in pleased surprise, locking his grip around your ankle, “Won’t save you though. I like my girls with some fight in ‘em.” His brown eyes are blown so wide with lust that they’re an abyss of black—maybe even a shade darker. In a flash, he snatches up your other ankle and yanks you back down the mattress, riding your dress up and rubbing your skin hot from the friction.

“No, no, no! Please, no!” you cry out, kicking your legs uselessly as his eyes zero in on the damp fabric nestled at your apex. No matter how much you pretend you don’t want this, you can’t hide your traitorous arousal.

Ignoring your pleas, Boba forces his way between your thighs, shoving his crotch against yours and making you gasp a moan. “Stop fighting,” he warns, crowding into your prone space, “I know you want this, dirty girl, you’re fucking soaked. Quit with the dramatics and Daddy will give you everything you want, just like he did earlier when he bought you all those nice things.” His hips grind into your center enticingly, accenting his offer.

You whimper and give a final kick before falling still, your only movement the heaving of your chest. Your blood is hot and torrid in your veins and sweat slicks your skin; you couldn't escape him even if you really wanted to and it burns you up. Knotting your fingers into the bedspread, you dig in your nails to keep from reaching for him—you’re enjoying your game far too much to give in and let it end now.

“Promising to spoil you makes you give it up quick, huh?” he smirks, kissing up to your ear, his right hand releasing your ankle to skate up to your damp panties. “Yeah, I know this is what you want. You want Daddy fuck you senseless in all the pretty things he bought for you, don’t you? To be his sweet little baby he uses however he wants? You can admit it, princess, you don’t have to pretend for my benefit.”

“Fuck you!” you spit back, knowing it would seal your fate. “I’m not some whore you can buy off and screw!”

[end of consensual non-consent]

Boba has the gall to laugh directly in your face. “That’s not what your panties are telling me. In fact,” he pauses to fish something out his pants pocket, “They’re telling me that if I make a little deposit… you’ll let me do whatever I want to you without a single complaint.” Before you can even ask, he pops the rubber band off a half-inch thick stack of hundred dollar bills with one hand. Your eyes widen and you clench around nothing, stunned into silence. 

He smirks, his shoulders set and his eyes glinting dark with desire. “Oh, is a few thousand dollars all it took to make you learn some manners?” he mocks. “Of course it is, my filthy girl, you’re spoiled rotten and all mine. Daddy knows how to get you to behave, doesn’t he?” You open and shut your mouth several times but you can’t get your tongue to form any words in your hazy, aroused shock. “Well now, if you’re not going to answer my questions, I might as well put something in that pretty mouth.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he reaches back into his pocket and stuffs his wallet in your open mouth.

All you can do is moan, your eyes rolling back inside your skull as carnal desire overtakes you. Your teeth sink into the buttery-soft material, the tang of leather flooding your taste buds as you writhe on the mattress seeking any sort of friction to quell the overwhelming need in your core.

Boba groans your name, long and deep, the rumble accompanied by the sound of a belt dropping to the floor. Your eyes flutter open to see him stroking his leaking cock with his free hand, his own eyes heavy with desire. “Look at you… so needy and pretty like this. I can’t wait to feel that perfect pussy strangling me.” He gives himself a few more tugs before releasing himself to ease his wallet from your lips, placing it and the money on the nightstand.

A whine sounds in your throat and he shushes you gently, coming back around to massage your thighs. “We have to check in, remember? How’re you feeling, babygirl?” 

Jagged shards of lust lodge themselves into your sweat-slicked skin, sharp and urgent, and every beat of your racing heart continues to pump unrelenting need into veins. “Everything is good, green, just keep going, please!” you beg, your mind spiraling closer to frantic desperation as the coil in your belly begins to unwind.

“Shh, shh,” he eases, stroking your hair back from your damp forehead. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, princess, but this isn’t optional. Do you need help calming down?” he asks in his even, guiding voice. Squeezing your eyes shut as hard as you can, you nod. “Okay, sweet girl, keep your eyes closed. I’m going to move and I want you to sit up. You want a pillow to hold?” 

Nodding again, you roll up to a sitting position, the empty loss of his touch soon soothed by the pillow he places in your arms. Boba praises you gently and guides you through a couple deep breaths and soon the overbearing buzz of desire wanes enough for your muscles to relax. After a few more exhales, you’re able to come back into yourself and you open your eyes, blinking against the sunset filtering in from the tall windows. Boba is standing in front of you, his drawn look of concentration melting into a smile.

“Better now?” he questions. You hum an affirmative in response and reach out a hand. He takes it, stepping closer so he can brush a kiss over your knuckles. “Ready to talk, sweet girl?” Taking a deep breath in and out, feeling your racing pulse slowing; when you’re sure you can focus, you confirm you’re ready. 

Boba sits on the edge of the bed, holding open an arm in invitation knowing that you need the added comfort of his touch during breaks. He waits until you’ve made yourself comfortable in his lap before continuing. “I know how bad you wanted to keep going, princess, so thank you for listening and being honest when I asked if you needed help.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Emotionally intense scenes like this one can be much different in real life than in our heads… sometimes it can catch up with you all at once and become overwhelming in a bad way. I want to give my little princess everything she wants, but I can’t do that unless I know everything’s alright up here,” he says, kissing the side of your head.

 “I understand, Boba, that’s why we have our rules and discussions to keep us safe.”

A warm smile spreads across his handsome face. “That’s exactly right, my smart girl. Now that things are calmer, how’re you feeling about everything? Anything that made you uncomfortable or want to change before we continue?”

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you hug him as tight as you can; Boba is everything to you and you want him to feel it in the strength of your arms and the beat of your heart. “I like it, like really, really like it. You’re amazing, all big and bad and mean… you’re so goddamn hot it drives me crazy. Makes me want to rip off all your clothes and ride your co-” 

Boba clears his throat, eyeing you sternly to remind you to stay on track and you snap your jaw shut with a sheepish grin. Rolling your gaze up to the high ceiling, you watch the patterns of the sun’s final light while you ponder his question. You certainly would never dream of acting out this kind of thing with anyone else, that’s for sure; not only because Boba is the only man you trust with such a fantasy, but also because it was precisely that, a fantasy, make believe. It ran so counter to who Boba is and how he treats you—that’s what made it so damn sexy.  

After a few moments of quiet consideration, shake your head. “There’s nothing I didn’t like or want to change. What about you, what did you like?” you ask, turning the question around and snuggling up against his warm chest.

He hums in dark delight, pulling you in tighter to his body. “When you kicked your leg up and got me in the chest, kark, sweetheart,” he puffs out his cheeks, “I almost lost my cool. Wasn’t kidding when I said I like a little fight in my women.” He pinches your ass playfully and you giggle, wriggling away from his fingers.

Sensing things are turning back towards continuing the fun, you twist around to straddle him, though keeping your hips still against his. “Well that’s no secret, professor,” you tease, linking your wrists behind his neck. “Don’t think you’d be with me if you didn’t.”

Running his hands up your sides, Boba’s fingers wrap around the swell of your ribs. “Mmm, I suppose that’s true,” he chuckles with a wry grin. When you ask him about any dislikes, he shakes his head, but there’s a caveat in his deep set eyes. “I’m enjoying it all and I definitely want to do it again, but…” He trails off, his brow furrowing in that pensive look he got when he’s trying to string together words to describe his feelings. You know it’s still a new practice for him, so you wait patiently, tracing little shapes on the nape of his neck. “But, not every time,” he concludes after a few moments.

Setting your forehead against his, you mumble in agreement, “But not every time.” You have a feeling you know why, not that you wanted it every time either, but that is a discussion for another day. For now, you would tuck it away in your heart. “Boba?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Thank you,” you smile, big and genuine, hoping he can feel all the emotion and gratitude behind your words, “For everything, for all of this. You’re amazing.” Pulling back, you capture his face between your hands so you can place a languid kiss on his beautiful lips. “I love you.” 

The way he always seems so surprised and hungry to hear those words is as endearing as it is heartbreaking; he should’ve heard that sentiment more often in his life.

“I… you,” he stammers, his usual stability thrown off.

“Shh shh,” it’s your turn to soothe, giving him another kiss, “I know.” You both hold the golden glow of affection between your bodies, warm and safe, for a few peaceful minutes, silently basking in its rays. When Boba begins to shallowly roll his hips against yours, a grin lights across your face. “If you’re ready, Daddy, I think there’s something your babygirl needs finished.”

“Oh, yes I think there is,” he agrees, nipping at the plush of your bottom lip with a devious grin. Sliding his hands under your thighs, he hoists you up with him as he stands to walk the pair of you to the long side of the bed. “Why don’t we get rid of this,” he suggests, tilting his chin down at your dress, “so Daddy can get a good look at his sugar baby all dressed up.”

He lets you down on your feet and you happily oblige his request, sliding the dress off your curves and tossing it in the direction of his clothes. The heat of his gaze as it rakes down your body is enough to brand your skin and reignite the coals flickering in your core. Brushing your hands over your tits and waist, you admire how the red lingerie flatters your form—as well as the effect it has on Boba. 

“Well,” you drawl slow and saccharine, batting your lashes, “if I’m not getting out of this terrible debt, I suppose I might as well enjoy it like you said.” As you echo his previous words, you sink back onto the bed behind you, spreading your legs wide. As one hand traces over your nipple peeking through the lace, your other one follows Boba’s hungry eyes down to the wetness staining your panties.

Your fingers dip under the damp fabric and swipe through the copious amount of slick coating your folds before coming up to breach the seam of your lips. “You make me so fucking wet, Daddy…” you moan, hollowing your cheeks, you softly moan as you suck the tang from your digit. Trailing your spit-cleaned fingers down your chin back towards your cunt, you simper up at him. “Wanna taste?”

Boba groans, his slitted gaze trained on your mouth as he smears pearled precum over his stiff length. “Oh, sweetheart, there’s a lot of things I want from you.” He enters your space, taking your jaw into his large hand. “Like this hot little mouth, for starters.”

Humming and blinking big blowjob eyes at your boyfriend, you grin and stick your tongue all the way out, tilting your head back for full effect. The air whooshes from Boba’s lungs in a debauched sound and the muscle in his neck twinges as his jaw clenches. “Such a sweet little angel when she wants to be…” he murmurs under his breath, almost to himself, collecting a leaking drop on his thumb to deposit on your waiting tongue. 

The salty taste of him has the coil of your release forming in your belly once again, salacious and hot. You lean forward to lap up more of his delicious taste, alternating between kitten licks and suckling at his tip while Boba continues to pump his shaft. Being the greedy little thing that you are you soon become unsatisfied with what small bit he’s allowing you—so you ask for more.

“Please, I want more,” you whine with a pout, “I want all of it.”

“Careful what you wish for, princess.”

You were, in fact, not careful for what you wished for and quickly became quite the little mess. Ravaged and ruined, and spoiled by the enjoyment of his cock down your throat as he clasped a diamond necklace around your neck. Your knees are now raw, hair wild, and your makeup is running down your cheeks. You’re a complete wreck.

You fucking love it.

Boba is standing over your kneeled form, gloriously naked and slowly stroking his dick that’s lubricated by a generous coating of your saliva. The dark look in his brown eyes and viperous grin send a shiver of arousal down your spine. “This is all you’re fucking good for isn’t it, sweetheart, spending my money and sucking my cock? Kriff, I think you like being a little slut as long as it gets you what you want.”

You blink up at Boba’s broad frame through clumped lashes. “Well, what can I say? We are living in a material world and I am a material girl,” you grin with puckish charm. You shimmy your shoulders just enough so that your tits jiggle and the light catches the trails of spit that have begun to dry on your neck and chest. You’d long given up your innocent act for your usual bratty self.

Boba huffs in amusement, rolling his eyes. “Do the jokes cost me extra?”

“Seeing how your dick’s not in me,” you reply blithely, “they absolutely do.”

You don’t even have time to pout before he snatches your face up in a tight grip, his thumb and fingers digging deep into your cheeks. “You really are a greedy little thing,” he chuckles, turning your head from side to side to appreciate the way the jeweled necklace sitting on your chest glitters in the low light. Hot arousal streaks through you, leaving shimmering trails of lust in your veins.

You try to shake off his hand but he only pushes his fingers in father. “There’s only one thing to do with greedy brats… you know what that is, sweetheart?” he asks with poisonous condescension. You glower up at him, unable to speak through his grip. “It’s to fuck it right out of them. You want more? I’ll give you more. I’ll give it to you until you’re begging and crying for me to stop, and then you know what?” Boba crouches down, resting his warm cheek against your burning one to hiss into your ear. “I’ll stuff those pretty panties in your mouth and keep going.”

The strangled groan that sounds in your throat is unlike anything you’ve ever made as you push out your chest to get closer to him. You’d give anything for him to fulfill that threat of promise because when he gets like this, it means you’re getting the fucking of a lifetime. Watching Boba as he fucks you is a treat in of itself, but witnessing that galaxy-stopping moment where he slips into that all-powerful, unshakable dom state? A truly indescribable delicacy.

Boba releases your jaw, yanking you up by your shoulders and roughly shoving you back on the bed. “You really are a dirty little whore,” he sneers, his lips quirking to a self-satisfied smirk, “begging for me fuck you to tears while you taste yourself. You’re lucky I’m in such a generous mood, princess, because you are absolutely ruined for anyone else.”

And the Maker knows it's true. “Daddy,” you whine, opening your legs wide in invitation, “please, I want you inside me so bad, please fuck me!” Boba likes to hear you beg and you’re all too happy to do it when it gets you what you so desperately want.

He looms over to you, his shoulders set and his eyes glinting dark with desire. “You finally learned some manners, have you? Figured out good little girls get more of Daddy’s money than bad ones?” He’s toying with you now. You both know what you really want: to have him filling you up over and over on a pile of the money he has stacked neatly on the nightstand where he left it. 

Truthfully, you’d do anything he asked at this point anyway—all this sugar daddy play has you step away from selling your soul just for a single stroke of his thick, perfect cock. You suppose it wouldn’t kill you to stroke his ego a little more if it speeds the process along. “Oh yes, sir, I’ve got it all figured out,” you answer agreeably, a picture of sweet submission, “I’ll be so, so good if you fuck me, I promise.”

“I bet you will, sweetheart,” he chuckles with a glint of mischief, “now that Daddy’s got you so well trained.” He’s testing you, seeing if you can keep up your obedient act, his dark eyes sparkling in challenge. When you swallow back your snarky response for a genteel smile, he relents. “Go put the heels back on and crawl back to me,” he commands, scooping up the stack of bills.

Scalding heat flashes through your body to settle between your thighs at his order, mixing with the excitement of finally having him inside your aching cunt. You jump up and eagerly hurry around the other side of the bed where you’d shed your shoes earlier. After slipping them back on your feet, you settle onto all fours and make your way across the expanse of the large bed, keeping your lust-dark eyes fixed on his own. 

The luxe bedding pools coolly between your fingers, the raw skin of your knees skimming pleasantly over the material; when you reach him, he caresses your face in a moment of tender affection. Before you can lean too far into his warmth, however, it’s over: he yanks down your bra and stuffs wads of bills into it. Wasting no time, he spins you around to continue slipping money under the edges of your lingerie, layering in a few bright slaps to your ass as he covers you in his paper wealth.

Your ears and cheeks are aflame by just how fucking dirty he’s treating you: like you’re a set of holes to be bought. It sets off a goddamn waterfall between your legs and you know he can see the slick starting to spill down your thigh—Boba Fett has corrupted you totally and completely, and kark if you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

“Look at you,” he goads, shoving a hand between your shoulder blades to force your front down and ass up, “such a greedy little whore, fucking dripping from just a bit of Daddy’s money.” He’s begging to be tested, pushing and prodding you for a reaction. Boba likes your submission, yes, but he wants to earn it, wrestle it out of you. He craves a challenge and you’re his favorite one, his perfect, bratty little match.

He slaps the blunt head of his cock against your ass and notches himself at your entrance. Just as he’s about to push in to feel that first bit of your sinful heat, you bow up your back so he slips out. “Ah ah ah,” you crane over your shoulder, smirking up at his genuine look of surprise, “I might be a whore but I’m not a cheap one. Don’t think that just because you can lay down some good dick that I’m going to give you a discount on this million dollar pussy. Finish paying up, old man.”

Boba grins like the devil, barking a sharp laugh. “Fuck, you’re so in for it, little girl. You and that kriffing attitude.”

You wink, jiggling your ass just out of his dick’s reach. “Aww, I know you like it when I misbehave, that’s why I do it just for you, Daddy,” you tease in a sing-song voice.

“I know it’s just for me, naughty princess, ‘cause no one else is ever gonna treat you this good or fuck you like I can.” Boba starts thumbing bills off his stack so they flutter and twirl like autumn leaves, landing around you. “So tell me when I get to enough, sweetheart.”

Biting down hard on your lip, you let the hundreds fall for a couple seconds until you can’t stand to be empty of him any longer. “That’s a start, but don’t get stingy on me.”

“Behave and take my cock like a good little princess and I won’t,” he retorts smugly. Tugging your hips back flush against the furnace of his skin, he smooths a roughened hand up your spine to massage your neck. Then, more gently, he requests, “Tell me what you do to make things stop, babygirl.”

“Kamino or three taps anywhere,” you answer dutifully, doing your best not to wriggle and grind against him while he checks in, your desire to have him inside you just barely kept in check.

Pleased, Boba hums and places a quick kiss to your shoulder blade. “Good girl. Because I’m not stopping for anything else, not when… fuck, when I can smell how much you want it.” Grinding against your thigh, he fills his hands with the globes of your ass. “Now, let Daddy see his pussy.”

How can you deny him when his voice is pure honey, sinful and spiced with everything you could possibly dream of? Sliding forward and widening your knees, you put yourself on full display for him, arching your back in a seductive curve. You’re rewarded with a deep, throaty groan from your professor and two quick slaps across both your cheeks that quickly dissolve into tingling pleasure. 

Pulling your ruined panties to the side, Boba groans again. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he traces your curves reverently, bending to lavish pious kisses your dimples of Venus. “Fuck, I’m gonna tear this little pussy up... I'm gonna do it just how you like it,” he promises, his deep voice scraped with desire. 

Your response is snatched from your throat when he enters your dripping heat a second later. Gasping and cursing at the sheer girth of him splitting you open with each rut of his hips, you bury your face into the duvet, your eyes rolling back into your head. The sinful stretch burns you from the inside out in the most gut-clenching, obscenely delicious way that all you can do is moan into the mattress. By the faint sounds making it through the thick haze of pleasure fogging your brain, it sounds like Boba is fairing about the same as you are.

“Fucking kark,” he pants through gritted teeth, “Always s-so tight and wet.” He snaps his hips in the final way, making you both exclaim in pleasure; it feels like he’s throbbing in your damn throat. “Ready, pretty baby?”

Turning your head so he can hear you, your response comes out as a desperate warble. “More, please, more, you feel so fucking good!”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart, Daddy’s gonna spoil his little princess, gonna fuck her full of his cum just how she likes.” His free hand grips your opposite hip so he can pull you back into the roll of his thrusts. “‘Cause that’s what you really want, isn’t it? To be so full of me that you can’t take a single step without remembering who owns this pussy, who takes care of you and makes you feel this fucking good?”

You’re already losing your mind, all the build up of your fantasy and your extreme angle making it so his tip is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you already. Throwing a hand behind you, you curl your fingers into the bouncing flesh of your ass to spread yourself farther, desperate for more of him deeper, faster, harder. You feel the feather-light touch of more money brushing your skin as it rains down on your back, making the well of desire inside you roil and churn as you bear down on him. “W-wanna see, wanna see… please,” you beg, unable to form any more of the necessary words, your brain melting from the blood boiling in your veins.

“Does my little girl want to watch Daddy’s money while he fucks her? Hmm? Tell me.”

Part of you wants to continue bratting, summon the last of your strength from some hidden cavern within you to bite back at him, come up with some scalding quip to throw in his face. A larger part of you, however, wants to delight in everything his dominance has to offer, revel in the way Boba can fuck and make love at the same time. “Yes, sir, please, sir!”

You’re on your back, legs over his shoulders, with his dick sinking back into you before you even fully register him pulling out. He gives your clit a few sharp smacks with the remainder of the cash in his hand before he starts flicking it out over you again, making you cry out in ecstasy. “Aw, you like this, sweet girl? You like how I treat my pretty princess?”

You’re already on pleasure’s cusp, waiting to ascend into its unholy heavens when he leans forward to hear your answer, hitting your g-spot perfectly and making your insides bloom with the heat of release. “Oooohh fuck yes, r-right there!” you cry, throwing your head back into the downy mattress, “Please don’t stop, t-this is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“Not yet it’s not,” Boba chuffs between grunts, reaching over to the bedside table. Before you can utter the first sound of protest or question, Boba slings the rest of the bills onto your heaving chest and stuffs his wallet back into your open mouth. Your pleasure snaps so tight at the familiar taste of the leather that you scream around the makeshift gag. He immediately starts rubbing wet, slippery circles on your clit. “That’s it, this is what’s gonna make you come, isn’t it, pretty baby?”

Time slows down, or maybe even stops, stretching out into oblivion on either side of you, divided by this infernal ecstasy Boba is pounding into soul. Tears of pleasure spill out of the corners of your eyes and you can’t seem to catch your breath before his thrusts force it from your lungs again; all you can do is moan some semblance of a response around his wallet and take him deeper into your waiting walls.

That’s when it happens, that subtle shift that brings Boba into that raw, glorious version of himself where he is the master of your twin universes, all-powerful and all-mighty. It’s in the set of his jaw, the snap of hips, and the inky depths of his eyes that it happens, where your energies fall into flawless, seraphic balance. You become two halves of the same whole as he gives and you take, as he pushes and you pull in unspoken harmony. You’ve never had a religious experience, but at the risk of blasphemy, you think this is what one must feel like.

Where else would the divine exist except at the meeting of two souls?

You’re blubbering what you can of his name over and over as your one and only prayer, knowing that your devotion would reap all that it sowed. It’s so much, it’s all so terribly, perfectly much: the pressed open stretch of your ankles over his shoulders, the impossible fullness of his cock inside you, the force of his powerful hips—you need something to hold you against his unrelenting tide. Releasing the sheets, you throw your right hand over your head, curling and uncurling it to tell Boba you wanted his hand in yours.

“I got you, cyare, I got you,” he assures between ragged pants, leaning down to redistribute his weight to interlace his fingers with yours. He shoves his other hand under your hips to adjust your angle and you arch up with a cry when he hits that spot dead on. You know he can feel it too, his eyes screwing shut against the overwhelming pleasure. “Fuck, baby, you feel s-so good, you’re taking me so well. I-I know you’re close, beautiful. Spoil Daddy and come for me… strangle my cock w-with that perfect cunt. Come on, sweetheart, l-let go and let me feel you.” 

You’d do anything for him, anything: fight off his many demons, kiss away all his pain, and protect his heart until your dying breath. Coming on his perfect dick when he sucked your nipple between his teeth was the least you could do, right after being his little angel who took every last drop of his cum when he pumped it into you a few bruising thrusts later. Rutting and cursing, Boba rides out both your orgasms, prolonging your combined pleasure until his muscled arms begin to shake with the effort of holding both you and him up. 

Blissed out and impossibly, wonderfully content, you enjoy watching how Boba’s dark eyebrows knit together and how his pretty lips form around his little pants as he comes down from his high. When his eyes finally flutter open again, they’re the luscious color of exotic wood polished and shining in the tropical sun—he’s so beautiful all you can do is stare and appreciate the wonder that is Professor Boba Fett.

Gazing lovingly down at you, Boba smiles softly and removes his wallet from your mouth so he can sprinkle sparkling kisses all over your face. “My beautiful, perfect girl,” he coos between the brushes of his lips on your skin, “my sweet, precious babygirl.” Without pulling out, he rolls the two of you over so you’re resting on his chest, your arms wrapped around his neck and your head tucked under his chin.

You slowly come back to your senses together, wrapped in one another’s warmth, easy and unhurried. Saving your post-scene debrief for your bath later, you lazily trace over the ink decorating Boba’s chest, over the slopes and planes of his pectorals and ribs, while he massages your back and shoulders. Much to your dismay, he has to slide out of you so you can sit up and drink some water; he just feels so good, so right inside your velvet walls that you never want him to leave you empty.

Setting down your water bottle after draining its cool contents, you pick up one of the hundreds scattered around the bed, now curious in your orgasmic glow. Holding it up to the light, you curse and sit up when you see the watermark through it. “Kriffing kark! Are all these real?!” you exclaim, shocked at your discovery. You hadn’t dwelled on the details during your romp in the sheets, but now that you're more clear headed, it dawns on you just how much money is in your presence.

Boba watches with open amusement as you repeat your test a few more times to find that the other hundreds in your reach are indeed genuine. “Why wouldn’t they be?” he questions with an impish smile, “I only get the best for my babygirl.” He’s smirking, doing his best to stifle a laugh at your obvious amazement.

Smug, wonderful, sexy bastard, you grumble to yourself, shoving at his shoulder. “Quit laughing at me and get in the bathroom, old man,” you order with mock annoyance, “I’m sucking your dick as soon as you can get it up again, and maybe even before then if you’re lucky.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, still chuckling as he swings his legs off the bed. “Order us some room service and I’ll be all ready for you to choke on.” He winks and you roll your eyes as you head towards the room phone. “Oh, and say whatever you want, princess,” he throws over his shoulder, “but no one's ever made you wetter or come harder than this old man.” 

Damn if it’s not true, you think with a shrug and a smile—not that you’re going to tell him that, not yet anyways. Looking over the menu placed next to the handset, a warm feeling of contentment washes over you pleasantly, like sunny waves lapping at your mind’s shore. Fucked, filled, and happy with the man of your dreams, you can’t imagine it gets better than this.

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

cyare - beloved, love

<Part V

[f0point5]

Oooooh my god the feels from this chapter!! The drama! The emotions! Those two babies 🥺

Whenever you make it sound like those two aren't supposed to end up together as a couple, I'm stuck thinking about it, wondering if you're right. Reading this part I honestly don't see them ending up with anyone BUT each other.

There is so much emotional damage and hurt for both of them and they do need to grow from this and learn how to really trust in a relationship, how to not fear a repeat of their own parents marriages, how to love and be loved and not run from this.

BUT seeing how y/n speaks about Elliot and their "relationship" and how she deals with that makes me believe she's never gonna trust any "normal" boyfriend the way she trusts in Max and their "relationship". She said she needs him. And we can all see how he needs her too. They can learn together. They understand each other's fears and they can work with that. They're already acting like a married couple, just without marriage and the intimate part of a relationship. But everything else is there, all the emotions, the trust.

I can see it. For the first time since you brought up the question whether they might possibly be better off as friends, I can clearly see how that doesn't have to be the way it goes.

The texts between Max and Daniel felt kinda illuminating... I've made this ask a couple weeks ago, how I felt like there's been sth happening in the past that made Max believe y/n wouldn't see him as more than a friend and him reacting to that in a way that made her believe he wouldn't see her like that.

Well... what if that something was the blind date that Clara set up for them? If what Daniel wrote is true to some extent, Max might have been a lil more keen on her back then than she'd thought he was. We only got her side of the picture, saying Max drew his line. But what if he didn't? What if she just thought he did and made it seem like she isn't interested either?

I think I remember y/n once said to someone that Max takes what he wants. But would he now? If he thought there's not a chance in hell she'd like him for more, he wouldn't try. No doubt. I'm not saying he's insecure in that department. But I feel like he's not always aware of how people perceive him. And he might not care about that, especially with anyone else. But be seems to care with her. If I think back to him telling her off for the Twitter posts, I wonder if it was him becoming all self-conscious because he's just not sure how to take those things from her. And if he really thought, like way back in the days, she's not attracted, doesn't see him as boyfriend material, whatever, it might explain his reactions to her publicly discussing how hot she thinks he is (let's put it like that).

Because he might start to think she means it. And it's probably a can of worms he doesn't want to open. Firstly, because of all the obvious reasons and their shared panic of relationship commitments. And secondly, because he might need to rethink the path he's taken with her all those years back, missed chances and all. And Max isn't one to ponder on the past.

Just my feelings about this part and some rambling... sorryyy for the long text again. 😅

Love your work!! 🧡

Right so. I waited until I had time to answer this because honestly it took me a while to formulate an answer for many reasons.

You. Be. Cooking. Like…yes. You and I are cooking from the same stove but you don’t have all my spices, if you catch my drift.

I keep going backwards and forwards whether I’m going to do a flashback part with the actual dinner date because on the one hand I want everyone to know what happened but on the other hand I like the idea that such a big part of their story is this mystery that the characters get to keep private. IDK ITS HARD. Because the story of why it wasn’t a date is illuminating but then also in the grand scheme of things doesn’t make too much difference.

I will say obviously it affected the trajectory of their relationship but there’s more to Max’s thought process than what happened in 2017.

Ugh your rambles always SO tempt me to reveal things that I want people to pick up on more but then it’ll make the plot slightly less surprising.

I will just say that Max and Y/N have known each other a LONG time. And Max has been a public figure for a LONG time. Both of things have shaped his perception of the situation maybe more than even he likes to admit. I mean…it’s kinda hinted very vaguely in a bonus part.

YOUR ASKS ALWAYS MAKE ME WANT TO SHARE EVERYTHING WITH YOU!!!

Keep cooking. It’s smelling good ;)

[coffeefueledmachine]

A Day in My Life

by Rubie Ryan G. Cabigas

Today is another day but nothing’s new in what I do every day. Everything in my life is like a programmed code for machines, it’s all the same. Well, it’s not like I am complaining about it but I do sometimes wish that something exciting happens in my life just to spice it up a bit.

Going back to the main topic, this is how I start my daily life. I wake up around 7 to 8 am and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I then go to my dogs’ little rooms and get them out one by one for them to have some exercise and defecate outside (don’t worry, I always clean up my dogs’ mess after they finished their business outside). After having a bit of exercise and defecating (obviously, not me but my dogs), I bring my dogs back to their little rooms and then I get my shovel, “walis ting-ting” and dustpan to clean up the mess done by my dogs. I sweep and then bury my dogs’ feces. Then, I will go and check my plants. My plants are onion chives, red bell pepper, lemongrass, aloe vera, and spinach. I create my own concoction of fertilizer by using organic materials that are in front of our house, like dead leaves and fruit peelings. After checking my plants and giving them liquid fertilizer, I will head out and buy some bread for our breakfast, and sometimes, I also buy some fish (rejects, “tamban” or “sigarilyo”) as viand for my pets (dogs and cats). I usually buy around 2 kilos of fish as long as it doesn’t exceed my budget (which is around 150 pesos) but if it exceeds my budget, I will only buy half a kilo of it. After purchasing bread and some fish, I and my mother will now have our breakfast which consists of bread and some hot drinks. My hot drink is semi-sweetened hot cocoa with a bit of coffee because if I don’t drink caffeinated drinks (especially coffee), I will experience another painful migraine that lasts a day. After having our breakfast, I will start my household chores which consist of removing the dust from the furniture and then sweeping the floor of our house. And that is the end of my chores for the first half of my day.

Before continuing to the second half of my boring daily life, I just want to tell you, my readers, that things are going to get more boring at this part. I hope you will stay and continue reading this.

For the second half of the day in my life, I start by preparing our lunch right after a few minutes of cleaning the house. We usually have our lunch around 12:45 pm, just in time before It’s Showtime starts on Youtube. After eating our lunch, I start preparing my pets’ food by mashing the fish into a paste before mixing it then to the cooked corn rice (bugas mais) so that my pets will eat everything instead of just eating the fish and leaving the rice. While they are eating, I will flush their pee out of their rooms to keep it clean. After flushing the urine away and after they finish eating their food, I will get their plates and wash them and leave them to dry. I will now then start working on my school requirements and my side hustles cryptocurrency mining sites and apps, and play-to-earn sites and apps). But most of the time, I just do my school requirements before the deadline because my laptop might not work again and cause me a lot of problems. Around 7 pm, I will temporarily stop doing my school requirements to prepare our dinner before my little sister arrives home from work. After our dinner, I will now prepare my pets’ dinner by doing the same thing I did for them during their lunchtime. After feeding and making sure that my pets will finish their food, I will get their plates and wash them. Then, I will now start washing our plates and the utensils that my little sister used in her work. After finishing my final household chore, I will continue working on my school requirements. I will then sleep around 2-3 am after finishing 60% of my requirements.

And that’s all folks, this is how a day in my life goes by. I know it’s kinda boring. Yeah, that’s what I also feel actually but it is better than doing nothing. I hope you “enjoyed” reading about how a day goes by in my life. Until next time, I guess. Bye and have a nice day ahead.

[biowareruinedmylife]

10 people you want to know more about!

Thank you to @hawkeshep for the tag!! I’m tagging @callista-curations @r0guewon @whiskynorocks @combustiblecake @otemporanerys @kuraiummei @supplemental-material @iheartgarrus @rusya-pics @ameyvolcano and basically anyone who wants to do it. No pressure tho <3

Favorite color: Blue, any shade of it. But especially petrol blue.

Favorite food: This is a tough question because I love food. At the top of the ranking you could find caprese salad, most types of cheese and nachos.

Song stuck in your head: I always have one song or another stuck in my head, but right now? Monument - The Inevitable End Version by Röyksopp.

Last thing you googled: The weather forecast for this week.

Last book you read: On Writing, by Stephen King.

Last book you enjoyed reading: The Odyssey. I had a blast with that one.

Last book you hated reading: Probably Narcissus and Goldmund. I like Hermann Hesse, but I disliked that one in particular and it was the only book I had available for a week I spent at the beach last year, so I ended up despising it lol

Favorite thing to cook/bake: I don’t know how to bake, but I love cooking Moroccan lamb tagine. The smell of honey and spices alone is heavenly.

Favorite craft to do in your spare time: I craft handmade dice sets with resin, and it brings me a lot of joy. I also find sanding and polishing them very relaxing.

Most niche dislike: Heat waves. Broad beans. Having feelings.

Opinion on circuses now and in history: I don’t like them, I never have. Exploiting animals and people is not fun.

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what is the worst way you ever got lost: I have an average sense of direction, but it gets worse every day. I got lost once and I started following a random guy with a backpack, because I assumed he would also be going to the bus station. Turns out I was right! but it wasn’t the brightest idea and I was very distressed lmao

[interiordesigncambridge]

How To Make Your Cambridge Home More Autumnal

You know when you walk into a home and it has got all of the required autumnal feels. It’s got bouche couches, wooden decor, wicker, pumpkin-spiced vibes with a log burner to match. I am personally all about the autumn season as it has all of the colour schemes that are my favourite — in essence it’s all about the earthy browns. The spaces we like to inhabit in the autumn are usually warm, calming and cosy spaces that help us get away from the increasingly cold weather that will befall us in the coming months.

On the calendar, autumn begins on the 23rd September. Admittedly I will jump-start getting over-excited and preparing for autumn in the first week of September as my birthday approaches. I can’t help myself, the jumpers get larger and my socks get pulled up higher. But enough about me — Here are the top four interior designer tips from Interior Design Cambridge to welcome you to autumn this season.

Number 1 Materials 

Let’s be honest, Autumn is all about the beauty of nature. Natural materials are celebrated and. rightfully so in this season. The best way to bring this into the home is by adding organic patterns materials and colours of the outside world in. These can include natural wood, wool, wicker, and leather alongside greens and hints of blue.

Number 2 Forage the Outdoors 

Less time outdoors means you need more plants and foliage in your space. It’s time to swap out fresh flowers for earthy-toned, dried flowers, this could include dried lavender and pampas grass. You can even forage around your back garden and bring in some of the beautiful oranges, reds and yellows that surround your outdoors.

Number 3 Bedding is Everything

As the weather starts getting cooler we all have a moment where we store away our thinner duvets and bring out their indulgent goose feather counterparts. Once the passing of the baton has taken place, why not add extra layers to your bedding with a quilted bedspread, large knitted blankets and throws? At Interior Design Cambridge we recommend layering to the max and having a standby basket nearby to unload the layers you don’t need. It’s time to cosy up and bring out all your blankets.

Number 4  Soft Furnishings

An upgrade in soft furnishings is probably the easiest way you can change up your interiors seasonally. It is time to move away from lighter and brighter colours that you may prefer in the summer, to earthy and darker colours for autumn and winter. With small changes in decor, pillows and throws.. your space will look and feel completely different! Candles and blankets are key here — Get creative!

Number 5   Cosy up their kitchen

Decor-wise the kitchen is always somewhere that is always overlooked as it is also a very practical space that needs to function well. I always find that a kitchen that is designed well together with an aesthetic appeal is where I feel most inspired to cook. The kitchen function is about the outdoors being invited into our homes, into our meals. Why not add some seasonal products such as sage, mint, spinach, parsley, basil and rosemary? Inspired to cook yet?

Written by Interior Design Cambridge

[comradekatara]

Do you think any of the members of the gaang have hot takes on food?

when katara informs zuko that she simply cannot stand spicy food, zuko is like “you know, azula hates spicy food too. but she’d always eat the spiciest thing on the table anyway, just to prove a point.” and katara’s like “wow your sister’s dumb as hell” and zuko’s like “lol.......yeah.”

toph maintains that “rich people food tastes worse” and the best meal she ever had was a bunch of leftover dim sum she found in the garbage

aang’s really intent on repopularizing lychees after the war. he just thinks everyone should be eating more lychees, always

sokka’s “hot take” on food is that he has a teenage boy metabolism and if he does not shovel as much sustenance of any kind into his mouth hole as frequently as possible, he will get very cranky. fine...........crankier.

suki always carries fruits on her that are easy to peel and eat on the go, and whenever one of her warriors/friends/cranky boyfriend seems tired she immediately procures a snack, as if materialized out of thin air, at exactly the right time. it’s one of her superpowers

zuko will only drink tea if it’s been made by someone he loves. otherwise, he’s just drinking hot water with loose garbage in it, and what’s the point in that??

toph is actually the best tea-maker in the gaang. she understands the ritual, the artform, the waiting, the listening. as much as zuko tries, patience was never one of his virtues. sokka has tea-making down to a science, and katara pours love into every cup, but only toph’s tea could truly be mistaken for iroh’s. it’s a very slight difference, and only iroh can truly sense it, but he knows, and toph knows.

sokka is the first to notice that mai never actually eats. like, sure, she eats, but it’s always so slow and methodical that it seems more like a ritual, or a forced habit, than anything else. she takes a couple bites, and then she sets her food aside, mechanically, every time. but the thing about mai is, she loves food. especially “junk food,” desserts, bread, all the stuff she refuses to indulge in because whenever she tried to as a child her mother would scold her, ask her if she was trying to get fat, hmm?? sokka laments to toph and suki that they need to find a way to get mai to eat more, and so they’re always subtly inundating her with snacks, taking her out to eat, encouraging her to bake more. mai loves baking because it combines precision and artistry and eating desserts (she bakes with aang and suki a lot). eventually she starts feeling more comfortable around food. the voice in her head telling her that she’s taking up too much space is now replaced by suki peeling her a clementine.

azula would eat even more regimented and ritualistically than mai. she would only eat if she had performed perfectly than day, and when she did eat, she would single out rice by the grain. when zuko told jin that she had “quite an appetite for a girl,” it was simply because he had never known a single female human in his entire life to appear to enjoy the taste of food. part of azula’s recovery involves her learning to eat with her hands, with abandon.

whenever ty lee cooks for mai, she always tries to arrange whatever she’s made into a smiley face. and every time mai’s like “I can’t eat this. I’ll ruin your masterpiece” and ty lee’s like “if you don’t eat this whole thing so help me god I will be so hurt and offended I will have no other option but to divorce you.” and mai’s like “but we’re not married.” and ty lee’s like “DID I STUTTER!!!!!!” and then mai eats the whole thing in under a minute flat. they do this bit every time, and it never gets old.

aang and suki bond over being the only vegetarians in the gaang. after becoming a kyoshi warrior, suki manages to convince ty lee to join them. while they appreciate that katara and sokka could never actually be vegetarians, for they respect their cultural/regional diet and traditional/sacred hunting practices, toph, on the other hand, has no cultural attachment to meat, other than the fact that she simply loves steak.

when it comes to vegetarianism, zuko is torn because on one hand, the thought of killing animals horrifies him, but on the other hand, he grew up eating meat his whole life and he has no idea how to give up kebabs. yes, aang, he knows it used to be an animal, but now it’s just a lump! a very delicious lump! sokka’s like “oh so this means it’s a go on cooking the turtleducks?” and zuko knows that he’s only saying that to provoke him but. it works regardless.

katara always claims that she hates doing all the cooking, but also refuses to let anyone else try to cook when she has appointed herself head chef. she claims that the secret ingredient to making soup is waterbending, and no one else has the right touch. even aang, who is also a waterbender. sokka’s like “don’t bother arguing with her over this she has a whole complex over this and trying to unpack it would take way too long.” only like thirty years later does zuko admit that he’s always found her food....kind of bland. katara’s like “oh so now u wanna colonize my soup too, with your racist spices??? typical.”

katara hates papaya, but she dutifully ate one for breakfast anyway, because aunt wu told her to. having noticed this, aang assumed she liked papayas, and always makes sure to get some for her whenever the opportunity so arises. the gesture is so thoughtful that katara doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. she grows to like papaya.

[velvetyh]

⌜08:54⌝

꒰ PAIRING ꒱ bf!sangyeon x (tallish?) fem!reader ꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ sangyeon finds you in the kitchen and he’s very pleased with the sight. ꒰ WORD COUNT ꒱ 738 ꒰ TW ꒱ none, just cheesy love. ꒰ NOTE ꒱ this is very short because im not doing my best rn but i hope that some sangyeon content will get appreciated (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) (no bc i crave this pls sangyeon come over) ꒰ REQUESTED ꒱ no!

୧ ‑‑‑‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑

Sangyeon drowsily patted the spot in bed next to him, opening his eyes as he found it empty. Sitting up while frowning, he tamed his bed hair as he tried to remember if you had to go somewhere he had forgotten. But since no appointment came to his mind, he got out of bed, determined to find you.

Humming a slow song, you stood in front of the stove, spatula in hand, creating a little line in between the two fried eggs you had decided to cook for breakfast to separate them. The sizzling of the food warned you that it was almost done and you reached for the spices to season them one last time.

“Ah, there you are,” a tired, cavernous voice coming from the door frame reached your ears, making you turn around with a smile. Sangyeon’s eyes widened at what you were wearing, blood rushing south. “Good morning, babe! How’d you sleep?” you excitingly exclaimed with a smile as he stared at your body, his eyes flickering back to reality as you innocently turned around, focusing on your eggs again.

He was so used to see you in one of his t-shirts or long, unflattering pyjamas that discovering your body clad in only a short, white nightgown had resulted in his head spinning in desire. Your legs were on full display, just for him, his favourite body part of yours leaving him speechless and aroused. As he took a seat at the table, he could only thank the weather gods and their beautiful ideas of forecasting a heatwave where you lived. It was a rare sight to see, and he was eager to enjoy it while it lasted.

You kept humming the soft melody as Sangyeon remained dumbstruck mute, letting him emerge from his slumber and get back to his senses slowly after what he had just seen. You smiled as the eggs were cooked, and you reached up to grab some cutlery that were in the cabinet above your head.

Sangyeon’s eyes widened in awe as his hands supporting his head up landed flat on the table, your nightgown raising up as you grabbed the plates. Letting out a small sigh, you lifted the pan to drop the eggs in each plate, giggling as two hands snaked up your hips, caressing your skin under the satin fabric of your nightgown. You turned to the side, letting Sangyeon capture your lips to what you thought would be a soft kiss, huffing as his mouth roughly moved against yours as his hands now started toying with your underwear. Your body almost jolted as he went lower, his teeth seductively capturing your bottom lip as he caressed and groped your ass with his needy hands.

“Since when does my sweet innocent Y/N wear a… thong? I didn’t know you owned that,” he teased as he started kissing down your neck, his fingers kneading the plush flesh of your bottom cutting the air from your lungs. “I-I was at the mall when I saw the set on a mannequin, I found it very pretty. You- don’t you like it?” you asked, suddenly worried that his remark was a critique. “Darling, darling, listen. I love everything that you wear, but seeing you in such a light nightgown drives me crazy, and that thong is just the cherry on top,” he breathily whispered in your ear, teasingly biting your earlobe as he played with the lacey material with one hand, the other slapping your ass cheek, making you moan his name. He smiled against your skin as his mouth rushed lower, teeth grazing the skin right where your heart was hammering, his hands still feeling your ass like he was touching it for the first time.

“You’re so sexy, I love you so much,” he praised, and you smiled, cupping his cheeks to bring his face back up and press your lips against his. “Can we do that later? I’ve just cooked some eggs for breakfast, and I’m hung-” “Sit and eat your eggs, darling, I’m hungry for something else,” he stated while removing his shirt, throwing it on the chair before lifting you to sit on the counter, kissing down your chest, pushing the hems of your nightgown up to reveal the lacey thong he was fascinated and whipped about.

If you had doubts that he wouldn’t enjoy this set of lingerie, now they were just faint memories.  

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 8}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 2752

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Athena

– Goddess of wisdom, reason, intelligent activity, literature, handicrafts and science, defense and strategic warfare

Rowan felt ridiculous.

He had spent the last hour cleaning his apartment and was currently pulling all of the food out that was meant to be prepared for dinner.

Steak, carrots, green beans, potatoes, a wide range of spices.

Thanks to the internet, Rowan knew what to do with them all.

It’s not like it was that big of a deal - Lorcan and Elide were joining him and Aelin for dinner.

And although he had hosted Lorcan and Elide a million times for dinner, Rowan had never cooked, nor had he introduced them to someone he was crazy about.

And he was crazy about Aelin.

She didn’t have classes on Fridays, something he wished he had been smart enough to plan when he was in college, so she’d done his grocery shopping while he was teaching all day. When he got home, he was expecting her to still be there. But his apartment was empty.

I have to get ready, she’d explained when he called her. I wasn’t expecting Lorcan the other night, but I have to impress Elide.

“You could have gotten ready here. You shower here all the time.”

We have sex in the shower, I don’t use it for functional purposes. Not yet anyway.

So here he was, laptop open to a recipe for pan-seared steak, making sure he had everything he needed.

Aelin had promised she’d be here before Lorcan and Elide, and he had been hoping to impress her with his skills in the kitchen, too, even if they were rough.

Now he was hoping not to set the smoke alarms off as he turned the stove on and put way more butter than he was used to using in the cast iron pan.

As it began to melt, he was already considering his meal a success.

Just as he was dropping the steaks into the pan, the front door opened and Aelin was letting herself in.

“Follow the sound of the sizzling,” he called, and Aelin came into view a second later.

She whistled, brows raised. “I like a man in the kitchen.”

Rowan laughed as he met her halfway, giving her a kiss. “Hopefully you still like it after you eat what I make.” Another kiss. “You look beautiful.”

She scoffed. “I’m wearing leggings and a top.”

“And you look beautiful in them,” he replied, turning back to the stove. “Just like you do in everything.”

“You’re a shameless flirt,” she said, beginning to chop the vegetables. But he saw the blush creep across her cheeks and ears.

Although they were cooking a homemade meal, he’d made sure she knew this wasn’t going to be anything fancy.

Elide would never let me live it down.

Rowan had always got along well with Elide, although he had absolutely no idea how she ended up with Lorcan. Rowan loved his oldest and closest friend, but he was a natural asshole.

Elide was the opposite.

“I have to confess,” Aelin began, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I’m a little nervous.”

Rowan’s brows rose. “Why?”

“Well, these are the people we’re going to be spending a lot of time with, I assume, since they’re two out of four people that know about us.” She gestures between the two of them. Their unorthodox relationship. “If she’s as sweet as you say she is, I’m worried my sarcastic ass will offend the woman.”

Rowan couldn’t help the laughter that shook his body. “Do I need to remind you that she’s been with Lorcan for the last five years?”

Aelin whistled. “Five years and still no ring? That gives me good material to ruffle Lorcan with.”

He froze and glanced over a shoulder at her. “Maybe don’t bring that up.”

Aelin was instantly grateful she had mentioned it now, and not in front of Lorcan directly. “Why?”

“Lorcan is…” Rowan trailed off as he flipped one of the steaks over. “He’s complicated. He’s not great with commitment. Elide is the only girl he’s been in a real relationship with as long as I’ve known him.”

“And how long is that?” Aelin asked, transferring the chopped veggies into a baking dish.

“We’ve been best friends since elementary school.”

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Oh. Wow. Okay, I won’t bring up anything to do with weddings or babies or any other lifelong commitments.”

“Good idea,” Rowan chuckled. “It may not seem like it, but as of now, Lorcan likes you. Imagine how cranky of an ass he would be if you got on his bad side.”

“Almost as bad as it is for someone who gets on mine,” Aelin grinned, and that mischief sent a thrilling chill down Rowan’s spine.

He opened his mouth to respond, to say something along the lines of lets do it right here, right now, before they get here, but a single knock sounded on the door.

Aelin whistled. “Even Lorcan’s knock is grumpy.”

“It’s also early,” Rowan mumbled, setting the tongs he’d been using down beside the stove and heading for the door. On any other occasion, Lorcan would have let himself in, like usual, but he knew how important this night was. Or at least was to Rowan.

He opened the door and found Lorcan grimacing, while the petite girl with dark hair was bouncing from foot to foot.

“Is she here?” Elide asked, grin growing. “Or do I have time to grill you about this alone before she shows up?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to grill us both,” Aelin said, appearing from the kitchen, a smile on her face.

As Rowan shut the door behind them, Elide’s mouth popped open into a little O and her eyes narrowed.

Aelin’s grin grew. “Hello, Elide.”

“Aelin,” she breathed. “Aelin Aelin? As in…Aelin?”

“I’m guessing it was the same Elide,” Lorcan mumbled, carrying a covered dish into the apartment. “Elide made dessert.”

With that, he was going into the kitchen to place it on the table.

The two women ran towards each other and embraced. Rowan kept his mouth shut as he watched the scene unfold.

Elide stepped back. “You don’t seem as surprised as me. Why don’t you seem as surprised as me?”

“Lorcan told me where you were from and how you moved around last time I was graced with his presence.” Aelin shrugged, that grin remaining. “I had a hunch, but wasn’t sure. Besides, if it did end up being you, I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

Elide turned and glared at her boyfriend. “A little heads up would have been appreciated.”

He was already halfway to the fridge, heading for a beer he knew Rowan would have restocked for them. “What she said. I didn’t want to get the story wrong or your hopes up.”

Rolling her eyes, Elide looked back to Aelin. “Men.”

Ending up back in the kitchen, Aelin finished up the veggies and was putting them in the oven when Elide asked, “So Aelin, how exactly did you two meet?”

Aelin glanced at Rowan and then back towards Elide. She was sipping her wine as she leaned against the counter, looking like the picture of innocence. Lorcan was shaking his head where he stood next to her.

Clearing her throat softly, she took the safe route. “In class.”

Elide’s eyes lit up. “So he really is your professor.”

“I thought that had been established,” Rowan mumbled, covering the steaks with foil to rest before they ate.

“I wasn’t sure if you two were just trying to mess with me again,” she said, eyeing Lorcan and Rowan. Turning to Aelin, she said, “I’m so glad I won’t be the only girl anymore. You have no idea how awful it is being the third wheel with these two.”

“You’re the third wheel with these two?” Aelin asked, brow raised.

Elide barked a laugh. “Absolutely. The more time you spend around these lovebirds, you’ll see what I’m talking about. Their bromance is out of control.”

“Bromance, huh?” Aelin grinned as Rowan rolled his eyes.

“It’s cute, really,” Elide said, then slowly shook her head as she met Aelin’s eyes. “Wow. I just can’t believe it’s you. It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Aelin said, and Lorcan cleared his throat from where he stood on the other side of the room.

“Are we done with sappy pleasantries?” He asked. “I came to eat.”

Elide pointed to the oven, where the vegetables were still roasting. “Five more minutes in the oven, but you and Rowan can set the table if you don’t feel like hearing us talk.”

She gave him a brilliant smile, which he scowled at, but Rowan indeed clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and led him from the room.

“Are you still close with Aedion? How is he?”

Elide asked, perching on one of the bar stools as Aelin refilled their wine glasses and stirred the pot of mashed potatoes on the stove.

“Yeah, he practically lives with me,” Aelin replied rolling her eyes affectionately. “He’s dating my best friend, and graduates in the spring, like me.”

“What’s he studying?” Elide asked, then added. “I thought he was older than us.”

“He is, by two years. He took a year off to find himself,” Aelin snorted, holding up air quotes. “Then he changed his major twice, which gave him a few unexpected setbacks. But he’ll have a degree in sports medicine and will be going back at some point to get his specialization in physical therapy.”

“I remember him being big into sports,” Elide nodded. “Good for him.”

“And you?” Aelin asked, leaning her elbows on the counter. “College not the path for you?”

“Oh no,” Elide said, chuckling. “I went for a few months before deciding it wasn’t for me. I started serving and making good tips, so I didn’t pursue anything else until recently. About a year ago I started getting really into pottery. I started my own little business a couple months ago, that I do for just a little extra cash and for the hell of it.”

“Really?” Aelin asked, brow raised. “That's incredible. What do you make?”

Elide opened her mouth to speak, but it was Lorcan that said. “Vases, mostly. She’s incredibly talented.”

Aelin hadn’t even heard them come back in, but as if on cue, the timer behind her went off. She turned to pull the vegetables out of the oven, but glanced back over her shoulder and Elide, who was smiling softly at Lorcan. “You’ll have to show me,” she said, setting the baking dish on a trivet. “I’d love to buy one.”

Elide’s smile was almost as radiant as she was.

*

“Okay. No more ordering in when we come over,” Elide said, setting her fork and knife down on her nearly empty plate. “You’re cooking from now on, Rowan.”

Everything had been delicious, even if the potatoes had been instant. Rowan was pretty damn proud of himself. “Aelin helped,” he said, his hand finding her knee under the table.

“Then you better keep her, because that was delicious and take out isn’t going to cut it anymore.” Elide sipped from her wine and winked at Aelin from across the table.

“Even I can’t protest that,” Lorcan said, throwing his arm around the back of Elides chair.

“And I didn’t help that much,” Aelin said, holding her hands up. “Rowan started cooking this afternoon. I just put veggies in the oven.”

“Well, either way, it means Lor and I are on clean up duty. You two go relax,” Elide said, and rose, beginning to pick up plates.

Lorcan groaned but followed his girlfriend’s lead, nonetheless.

Aelin laughed quietly as she took Rowan’s hand and pulled him into the living room.

“I like the hold she has over him,” Aelin said, once they were alone. “It’s inspiring.”

Rowan hummed as he put an arm around her and pulled her against his side. “That’s a great way to describe Elide. Inspiring.”

Aelin thought of the murky memories she had of the young girl. She’d moved to Perranth right around the time Aelin’s own parents had died. Sadly, that move had been prompted by the same reason. Elide’s parents had also passed and her uncle had received full guardianship of her, and he lived in Perranth. Rather than uproot his life, he decided to uproot Elide’s. She had been too young for a cell phone, so there had been no way to stay in touch at the time, but Aelin was glad to see her back in Orynth. She was sure Aedion would be happy to hear about it, too.

“I think she likes you,” Rowan murmured, his lips by her ear.

Her laughter was soft as she rested her head against his shoulder. “I’d hope so. She’s known me since we were children.”

Rowan scoffed. “That means nothing. I’ve known

Lorcan since we were children and half the time

I hate him.”

Aelin’s head fell back as she laughed a little louder. “Well, that’s understandable. But me? I’m a peach.”

“Yeah, you are,” he whispered, and kissed her, softly. She held onto him a little bit tighter, and she couldn’t help but think how perfectly the night had gone.

If only the people who currently knew about their relationship would be the only people that knew about their relationship, Aelin wouldn't mind it. At least, not for a while.

“Elide was right, though,” Aelin muttered. “Your food is delicious. I’m continuously impressed by you.”

He shook his head and laughed quietly. “Thank the Internet. I can just follow directions well.”

The two fell into silence as they listened to Lorcan and Elide’s banter from the kitchen, and Aelin couldn’t help but laugh. It was clear they had been together for a while, with how comfortable they were, and Aelin was happy for them, if not a little bit jealous. She knew it was something that couldn’t be rushed, but feeling like that with someone, like that someone was home, was something she hadn’t experienced in a while.

“He’a different around her,” Aelin quietly mused as Lorcan’s deep rumble of laughter reached them from the other room.

Rowan nodded slowly. “Their story isn’t mine to tell, but… He helped her out of a dark place, but she also saved him, in her own way.”

She understood that. Hopefully, she and Elide would become close enough that she’d feel like she could open up to her.

It’d be nice to have another girlfriend, like Lysandra.

“You should come over one night this week,” Aelin said, looking up into his face. “So you can get to know Aedion and Lysandra.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I think Lysandra and I got a good start on that in class.”

Aelin grinned as she framed his face with her hands. “She’s a little extra, but so am I, so you shouldn’t mind that too much.”

Rowan scrunched his nose but sighed. “I guess that would be fine…considering they already know about us.”

“Kind of hard to hide from my best friend and roommate,” Aelin muttered. “And obnoxious cousin.”

“We could always go up north for a weekend, too,” Rowan suggested. “With Lor, Elide, and Lysandra and your cousin. I have a cabin there.”

“Of course you do.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “Spoiled, rotten rich kid.”

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, but before she could ask about it, or even begin to apologize, Elide was sweeping into the room. “Dinner is all cleaned up and I still have room for dessert. Anyone else?”

“Depends on what it is,” Rowan smirked, his arm still around Aelin. That hurt was gone and Aelin wondered if she’d imagined it. “Not your attempt at a crockpot apple pie again, is it?”

“That was one time and had too little liquid. My crockpot was too large,” she huffed, but crossed her arms. “It’s a triple chocolate cake, actually.”

Aelin’s interest was immediately piqued. “Oh, there’s always room for chocolate cake.”

Elide grinned and took her hand, pulling her off the couch and into the kitchen. Lorcan took a seat on the other side of the couch and sighed.

“The two of them together is terrifying.”

Rowan smiled. He was sure they could get into some trouble, but it was nothing he and Lorcan wouldn’t be able to handle.

He was happy, he realized, trying to shove back the dark memories he’d accidentally dredged up. He was happier than he’d been in years, and Aelin was the reason.

He just prayed nothing happened to end that happiness.

[disasterofastory]

Three times when Ubbe wants to make you a free woman (Ubbe x Reader)

Three times when Ubbe wants to make you a free woman Ubbe x Reader Warnings: slavery

I.

The Queen bought you from a merchant who wandered around the world to make money selling slaves for everyone who can pay. You are free from him, but you still hope he drowned in the sea when he set off after the Vikings bought you. He was a cruel man with yellow teeth and a hooked nose from fights. After him, everything was a pleasant change, even if you were still a slave or a thrall as they called you.

You serve Aslaug’s oldest son for two years now.

Your job is mostly to take care of Ubbe’s needs. You wash his clothes, sharpen his swords and cook for him when he wishes it. He is nice to you. He never hits you and doesn’t force you to do anything you don’t want. It’s more than a slave deserves.

One day you sit before the fireplace, sewing one of his tunics. The blue material is soft and warm between your fingers in contrast to the brown dress you wear. Your skin was irritated for a month before you got used to the rough fabric.

You are grateful you chopped the wood yesterday because the snow starts to fall while you sew the prince’s third shirt.

You are so busy with your task you don’t even hear Ubbe’s arrival. He stops at the entrance watching you work with a focused face. Your tongue even peaks out between your lips as you try to follow the shirt’s line. Your hair is loosely braided and a little bit messy after cooking and washing.

“It’s cold outside,” he says after a while, and you jump a little in fright.

“Oh, my prince,” you laugh a little at your reaction and nod at his words. “Yes, but you have enough wood for a few days.”

“Thank you,” he says, walking to the bowls full of food. “It smells good.”

“I bought new spices from a trader.”

“Come, eat with me,” he nods at the other chair, sitting down at the table.

“I can’t, my prince. I still have things to do,” you argue softly, lifting his tunic in your hands as proof.

“You can do it later,” he replies stubbornly. “I am your prince.”

You feel awkward sitting down in front of him. You start to eat silently, fidgeting on your chair. Ubbe sees your uncomfortableness, but he says nothing. He enjoys these few minutes. He almost imagines another scenario where you aren’t his thrall but his wife.

II.

A few weeks later, you heading towards Ubbe’s hut after you bought a few more spices and pelts for the prince. The winter is colder than you expected, and you can see your breath in the air. Your hands are red because you forget your gloves and you didn’t have the chance to go back for them. You still grateful you escaped from that man who thought he could attack you early in the morning. You know you should be more upset about it, but after a few years of slavery, you get used to it.

“Y/N!” Ubbe yells after you, and after a few steps, he catches up with you. His face a little bit red from the cold and the furs on his shoulders make him much bigger. Like a bear.

“Good morning, my prince,” you greet him with a slight smile.

“Do you need help?” He asks but doesn’t wait for your answer, grabbing the pelts from your arms.

“I bought them for you as you asked me,” you tell him. “The trader said he killed the animal with his bare hands.”

“And you believed him?” He laughs.

“Not really, but he gave them cheaper because I seemed impressed,” you answer with a shrug.

When you get to Ubbe’s home, you put away the spices and the fresh loaves of bread before you set more wood on the fire. You take off the pelt from your shoulders so you can start the breakfast.

“What happened with your dress?” He asks when he looks down on your clothes. At first, you don’t know what he is talking about, but then you notice the tear at your hips. You can see your skin through the hole.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you try to distract him. “Fish will be good for breakfast?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Y/N, what happened?”

“Somebody tried to…” you start but can’t end the sentence. “It doesn’t matter,” you say stubbornly.

For a few minutes, he just stares into your eyes, opening his mouth, but he says nothing. His blue eyes cloudy with conflict, and he chooses to say silent.

III.

The winter does not spare the village. The cold has no mercy, and the snow just gets bigger and bigger every day. Ubbe bought you new boots and warmer clothes and forbade you to do chores outside the hut.

For the last two weeks, the prince acted strange around you. You caught him staring at you several times, and sometimes he looked like he wanted to tell you something.

“It feels like the winter never ends,” Ubbe says from a chair, sharpening the knives you want to use to slice the meat.

“The spring will come. You have to be patient,” you reply. “How is Prince Ivar? I know he hates the cold.”

“The spring will come. He has to be patient,” Ubbe repeats your words with a smile. “He will be fine if his wife doesn’t strangle him in his sleep.”

“She learns patience before their child comes,” you joke.

“Do you want kids, Y/N?” He asks you, handing you the knives.

“A bunch,” you squeak before you return to reality. “I mean… I don’t know,” you continue more calmly.

Ubbe doesn’t answer you, just smiles and goes out to chop more wood while you start cooking.

When you finish, and Ubbe comes back, the sky is already dark, and the outside world is silent.

“If you don’t need me, my prince, I would go back home while I can,” you tell him politely, looking out the window.

“Stay for the night,” he says. “It’s too dangerous.”

“No, I-I…”

“Y/N, please. I would hate it if something happened to you. Sit down and eat with me till it’s warm.”

“Thank you,” you tell him in the end. You know the prince, you wouldn’t win this fight.

You want to sit down at the table, but Ubbe grabs two plates with food and sits down before the fireplace, waiting for you. You feel a little bit embarrassed, but you enjoy it too at the same time. Of course, you could imagine your life without being a thrall, but you are still lucky with Ubbe.  He treats you like a human being who helps him and not like something he could kill at any moment.

When you wake up from your thought, both of your plates are empty, and you want to grab his so you can wash it, but he doesn’t let you. You look up at him, and he is already watching you. His braided hair is messy, and his blue eyes are hypnotizing. The snow is long gone from his beard. Yeah, he is handsome. You never saw Ragnar, but everybody says his son looks exactly like him.

“Do you want more?” You ask him. You don’t understand why he doesn’t let you take his plate.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I thought about something. Honestly, I thought about it a lot for the last few weeks.”

“Something is bothering you?” You ask him. Sometimes he tells you about his problems, and you listen to him and try to help him.

“It does not really bother, but…” he shrugs. “Everybody says I need a wife.”

“Oh,” you moan breathlessly, but you are not surprised. He is right. He needs a family of his own. Are you jealous? Of course, but you know it’s only natural. All of his brothers are married already. Even Hvitserk and everybody thought he never finds the right woman.

“But there is my problem… I know the woman I want, but I’m not sure she feels the same.”

“Of course, she feels the same,” you tell him. “You would be a good husband and a good dad.”

“And I’m a prince,” he tells you, but you shake your head.

“If that woman really loves you, she doesn’t care you are a trader, a blacksmith, or a prince.”

You want to apologize because you feel you crossed the line, but when you look at him, he smiles at you and grabs your hand to pull you closer to him.

“You are the woman,” he tells you, and you forget how to breathe.

“What?” You ask him, searching his eyes. Maybe he is joking, or you heard him wrong.

“For you to be my wife, you have to be a free woman,” he tells you, and the only thing you can do is nod. “Don’t say yes if you don’t want to. You are a free woman from now on, whatever you say yes or no.”

You don’t even have to think about it. You don’t love him yet because you never let your feelings go that way, but you know you don’t have to force yourself to fall in love with him.

“Yes.”

[octania]

Benimaru Shinmon x Reader ( NSFW, 18+)

Word count: 3.8 k

Warnings: NSFW,smut,oral sex,sexual teasing, orgasm prohibition

Short description: You were in love with this man for over a year, but your bratty mouth an denial of your feelings got you in a situation where Benimaru will teach you how to behave in very teasing and heated way....

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The air was filled with the scent of a variety of traditional dishes and enriched by the happy shouts of excited residents through the streets. This time, the festival did not mean destruction, this time it was celebrated by making delicious dishes and socializing with each other. The celebration itself began at dawn, when they brought out their wooden tables and portable stoves, beginning to enrich the street with enticing scents of a variety of spices and ingredients. You could also hear the gentle sound of kota, whose strings were gently touched by the pale hands of young talented musicians. While these were all just preparations for the big ceremony that would start when sun kisses the mountains, everyone shared their joy throughout the day. His dark hair fluttered in the morning breeze around his narrowed eyebrows. Ruby eyes barely opened as he passed like a shadow past people. Although it was not visible on the expression on his face, he secretly enjoyed the liveliness that spread through the streets of his hometown. Countless greetings lined up behind him, giving him words of praise and support to which he only nodded a few times, nothing more, and continued his walk. The silence of his thoughts was broken by a hoarse female voice. Although it was rough, it sounded kind of gentle. He soon discovered to whom it belonged, when a plump old woman with black hair streaked with gray strands stepped in front of the captain. Her wrinkled face wearing a smiled from ear to ear, her eyes squinting at the young man.“Benimaru, my boy! I have something for you, please do except my gift in honor to you and the members of your squad.”- she was direct, not talking his ear off, just bowing slightly after her words and handing him a medium sized package. He stared in the thing wrapped in light blue material with a lack of interest that he did not hide not even the slightest. “Tempura and sushi, to hold you till the festival tonight.” – she explained getting back up from the slight bow. After a couple of lazy blinks, he raised his hand and responded. “That is alright, we will wait till the festival.”- without waiting for a response, he passed the woman in attempt to leave, but she was not letting go so easily. Shoving the thing in his hands, she smiled again, not bothered by his behavior.“Nonsense! Twins will love it, and we all know Konro could use a break for cooking today.”- Benimaru sighed, pushing the package slowly back at her, but before he could say anything, a female voice sharp like katana echoed the street. “Obaachan, can you please stop giving food to the people who clearly have no decency to even say thank you? Rudeness should not be rewarded.”- (Y/N) stood at the door of their restaurant, squeezing the sleeves of her kimono. Benimaru didn't say a word, looking at the young girl with the expressionless face. The lack of his reaction only made (Y/N) even angrier as she furiously crossed her arms over her chest. “(Y/N), you watch your mouth! You are addressing our beloved captain, to whom you owe your safety!”- obaachan scolded her, raising her finger as a warning, but that didn't stop (Y/N) from responding with even greater ferocity, targeting Benimaru with a look of utter contempt. “Because he is a captain, he should show more respect to his people and their offerings! Shouldn’t leaders be role models? Poor us if that is the case. People usually pay for the food in our restaurant, and yet he shows no gratitude even when his meal is free!”- she did not waver, her stand proud and determent, not showing even a bit of fear from the man who is the head of this town. “Child, hush! Go back inside right now! Sol help your rude mouth!”- Obaachan started waving her hands, showing (Y/N) to go back inside the house, turning to Benimaru. “I apologize captain Shinmon, (Y/N) did not mean it.”- the elderly woman bowed again, with clear expression of shame smeared around her wrinkled face. Still speechless, Benimaru watched the girl, who was now biting her lower lip in frustration as if it were chewing gum. Eventually, he slung the bundle over his shoulder, turning on his heel. “Thank you for the meal madam (Lastname of your family).” – that was the only thing he said, strolling down the dusty street without turning around again. Even though he wanted to allow his mismatched eyes to gaze upon the fearless woman one more time....

The celebration that had its core in the great hall that belonged to your family, otherwise intended for weddings and large feasts, was already spreading like wildfire. People were raising glasses full of sake, feasting on specialties they had been preparing all day, but they preferred to treat their palates to desserts that belonged to your family restaurant. Young artists danced a traditional dance with fans, attracting curious glances with their gorgeous and colorful kimonos. Outside, the streets were crowded with people, gazing merrily at the early fireworks that ate up the starry sky with their tantalizing shapes. You were in charge of serving the guests who sat on the heated floor of the hall in front of the beautifully carved tables. Countless comments on your beauty and grace have accompanied you in your assignment, while you have given a kind smile to anyone who would praise you. No one has noticed that your eyes jump restlessly from person to person, searching the room in hopes of encountering the phlegmatic face of the man who was the source of your deepest suffering.You were afraid that your sharp tongue had resulted in his absence, that he wouldn't show up for the rest of the evening, maybe not after either. Did you overdo it... or didn't you? He was rude after all! Yes it is true, he is guilty of this! You weren't even aware that your angry thoughts betrayed the state of your mind on your face. You eyebrows narrowed, lips squeezed in a straight line, your body tense, as you rushed towards the kitchen, when a familiar voice addressed you. “(Y/N)! Your family always knew how to make the best celebrations, I congratulate you.”- a tall man with a kind blue eyes  that resembled a calm and mysterious sea, smiled at you, holding the door of the kitchen open for you. “Konro! I..”- you stopped for a second, almost dropping the mountain of dirty dishes you were carrying,  as your eyes finally find the one they’ve been searching for. A smile almost escaped your lips, but you prevented your rooted emotions to show. Behind the tall man, Benimaru was standing, scanning the room full of cheerful people. He did not even look at you once, and you could feel the frustration rising in you again. Who does he think he is? No matter how much you were bothered by his disinterested posture, your eyes wandered over his crossed arms on his chest, the muscle that adorned his forearms reached to the very core of your desire. The hands filled with veins always looked tense and ready to fight, as if  he was waiting to defend the whole world with them, alone. You could no longer resist the sight, you had to run away. Blubbering a couple of thanks to the lieutenant, you ran past his arm into the kitchen, kicking the door with your foot behind you to close them. You took quick steps to the sink and nearly broke half the porcelain plates when you threw them inside. You grasped the edges of the sink, closing your eyes shut and taking a deep breath. Before you could muster your whirlwind of thoughts, a young woman approached you from the back.“You know, if you were not such a proud and bratty thing, you would be breaking beds now and not dishes.” – (B/F – name of your best friend) mocked your state without restraining one bit. Your nerves were thin, and being called out like this only made you react like a cornered animal.“Shut up, I don’t know what you are talking about (B/F). Seriously, if you worked even the half of the time you spend teasing people, we would actually get something done. “-you snapped at her, pulling out  bamboo boxes filled to the brim with colorful mochis. “Sure, if you had a bite to support all that barking, maybe you would get something done. I think Benimaru would appreciate your teeth on his skin more than your mouth just bullshiting all the time.”- she did not back down,wrapping the strands of hair around her finger, (B/F) continued before you could counter attack.“How long has it been since you started drooling over Waka? A year? Year and a half? Oh my God, when I remember how pissed you were when you though he was dating that girl from company 8th just because she brought some papers a couple of times.”- the more she talked, the more did rage boil in you, so much that  it seemed that steam will start going out of your ears. Her voice only rose as she continued through laughter.“Damn, you made me wait  around corners like crazy people just so we can see if they are a couple or not. And when it finally turned out they were not, I will never forget your jumping in the air from excitement.”- before she could say any more , something gooey and sticky landed right on her forehead. She whined in surprise, as the pieces of mochi started falling down her face.“Anything else you want to add?!Huh?!”- you lifted your hand high, ready to throw another mochi at her.“Maybe if you threw yourself on Benimaru in the same way you are throwing this mochi, you would get some and your nerves would calm down!!”- she screamed before ducking down as your hand catapulted another one at her.  You didn’t even know that your little show didn’t go as private as you thought. The high tones of the people from the main hall were unfortunately not enough to cover your voices, and one curious ear absorbed every word. Benimaru lowered his head, starting to walk away from the kitchen door. Under his raven hair, a grin was hiding.

He sat quietly watching the people around him fiercely try to get his attention. Some were male neighbors praising his fighting skills, their speech interrupted by hiccups from too much sake was almost humorous, while on the other hand a couple of girls discreetly tried to gain his favor, but all they got was a restrained smile. He brought the glass to his lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid, but there were no more inside. Your grandmother, who was actually only a few seats away from him, noticed the lack of refreshment for the beloved captain, and of course, called your name instantly. “(Y/N)! Fill the captain’s cup!”- you kept away from his table. Actually, you targeted those behind him, in order to better avoid a face-to-face encounter. The things (B/F) told you bothered you too much, and you didn't just want to deepen your cravings and quarrel with yourself over the feelings you carry for this man. Hearing your name, Benimaru tilted his head, looking over his strong shoulder with his glowing eyes. That deep gaze made you swallow, barely keeping you composure. You knew if you came any closer you would break, and you will not give him that satisfaction. You lifted you chin up,  pushed back your shoulders, and turned on your heal as the cold answer followed.“He has hands. He can fill it up himself.”- without second thought, you walked away, but you swore you could feel a set of burning eyes following you.

The hallways were empty, all the guests retreated to the main hall. As the night went on, even the workers began to relax, completing their work and joining the rest of the town in celebration. There was no longer a need to bring the food from the kitchen, at least for the time being, the tables were full. (B/F) was the last person leaving the kitchen, as you said you will join her shortly, you just wanted to finish a few things up. Carrying the empty bamboo boxes, you took a turn into the hallway bathed in dim light, crashing with your shoulder into something big and hard. You blinked in shock, barely managing not to drop the boxes on the floor. The thing in front of you was a person, and seeing him made your heart race. Benimaru Shinmon stood there silently, his eyes half opened, shoulders relaxed, while he studied you.  You almost bit your lip, but seeing the man baring that uninterested expression once more, made your blood boil instead. “Excuse me is the words you are looking for! You should watch where you are going.”- you said irritated, trying to go pass him, hiding your flustered face beneath your hair. A feeling of slight pain spread throw your back as it crashed on the wall. It took you a couple of seconds to figure out what was going on, that is, you needed to believe that this was not one of your dreams. Pressed with his hips on your abdomen, Benimaru towered over you. He seemed stronger than usual, more dangerous, but there was not a shred of fear in you, just excitement. “Wh..what are you doing?! Get off!”- funny you should say that, when in reality you didn’t wiggle or struggle at all, your big mouth once again just stood in your way in order to show your true feelings. But Benimaru was no fool. He did not respond on your demands, instead, he tilted his head on the side, like he was checking something, then returned his gaze on you. You could feel the ground disappearing under you. You gasped at the unsettling feeling, trying to grab onto something from pure instinct. But the only thing you managed to grab was the one making you lose the floor under your feet in the first place. Benimaru picked you up by your waist, his forearm adorned with prominent veins wrapped around your waist like a snake, not letting go of his prey. He was fast, pushing the door of the kitchen that was empty and dark, kicking it again as they closed with a loud bang that made you flinch, while he turned the key in the lock. “Benimaru ! What the hell? I said let go!”- in reality, you hated the thought of his hands leaving your body. The feeling that flowed through your veins when you were this close to him, almost took over even your insolence, but the bits that were left now squirted like popcorn from your lips. “You are too huffish, (Y/N).”- his voice smooth like honey, but a bit dark. The sudden feeling of falling down made a muffled whine to escape your mouth, but you did not hit the ground. He held you in his lap while he sat down on a kitchen table. Your permanent denial tried to strike for the last time, making you turn around furiously, facing the man who dared to pick you up like a helpless and fragile thing. But the sharpness of your words did not come down from your lips, when sweetness filled your taste buds. The warm flesh of his lips now merged with yours. The bitter taste of the sake he drank from didn't bother you, because for you he tasted like cupid's wine, intoxicating you, maddening your thoughts and driving your senses wild. You felt dizzy from the heat that rushed into your cheeks when he first ran his tongue over yours, caressing its soft surface with his tender muscle. You tried to get some air in your lungs but you didn't know how to breathe, you were so enchanted by his kisses. You almost swore in displeasure when he pulled his lips away from yours.“If you just did this, we would be able to skip the punishment.”- confused, you did not even manage to answer his statement when his hands that were resting on your waist till now, pulled you down and flipped you across his lap. Your knees landed on the wooden surface of the table, as you kept your balance on your elbows in the front. “What…what are you doing?”- you asked with a shaky voice, seeing how his hand hold you by the material of you kimono on your lower back, keeping you steady. “I declined the home made meal from your obaachan today because I knew we already had a meal prepared for the day.”- he said sliding his rough palm of his free hand across your spine, down to the your lower back, all the way to your peachy ass. You bit you lip, shivering when his touch did not stop, traveling down your thigh, then taking a handful of fabric of your kimono.“Taking more would mean throwing it away because it would not be eaten. And that would be disrespectful.”- he jerked your kimono abruptly, exposing your entire lower body. Your perfectly shaped ass made him discreetly lick his lips, while you covered your face with your palms in shame. “I-I…I didn’t k..know that ..”- you tried to explain yourself, but in vain, as his voice  responded harshly, accompanied with his finger movement, slipping under the side of your panties. You whined loudly as his index finger brushed along your folds.“You did not bother to ask. But fortunately as you said earlier, I do have my hands. And with my hands I plan to teach you how to behave.”- the sound of tearing fabric filled the kitchen. You bit your hand when you felt the exhaled air from his mouth pass over your naked cunt. He was so close that he could feel the heat coming from it, barely restraining himself from biting into that cookie. You stirred a little, the discomfort ate at you up, the feeling of arousal overcame you.“Don’t look there….Benimaru, please I-….”

“You know how to say please already? Well, I wonder what it will take to teach you to say sorry.”- his fingertips crossed over your silky pussy lips, gently caressing the rosy flesh. You whimpered at the slow pace of his movements. He didn't remove his head, he calmly watched the wet glow slowly appear on those folds. He pushed his finger closer to the opening, collecting some sticky liquid with his fingertip. He didn't push his finger inside, but continued to draw a line along your slit. “Oh my Sol!”- you cried out, squirming already, but that did not even make him flinch. He pushed his digit a bit harder, make it sink into the sensitive flesh, brushing over it all so gently. “Sol will not help you (Y/N), but some manners might. Luckily again, as you said, captain should be a role model, showing the people the art of good manners.”- his thumb slipped across your clit, making the rough skin stimulate it so greatly it made your icing flow more intensely. You yearned for him to do it again, but you were out of luck. This was not supposed to be something to reward you with, this was a straight up lesson to teach you what will happen when your bratty mouth bump into an opponent like Benimaru. He settled his thumb above your throbbing nerve bud, adding another finger to the game. His index and middle finger pulled your pussy lips slowly, massaging them between them. The sensation you were feeling made you feel dizzy. The overwhelming pleasure that arose in you now got your legs shaking without stopping. The feeling was unbearable, because he touched all the sensitive places but leaving the critical ones empty and eager. This teasing was so arousing your juices now strained down your thigh. The crystal like liquid did not go unnoticed by Benimaru, as a grin appeared on his face. Without a second though, he lowered his head, sticking his tongue out and pressing it on your plushy thighs, collecting the juices in long strokes. “Beni!!”- you moaned like a whore, voice filled with begging desire and maddening need, but he did not plan to be interrupted. He slid his hand under you, finding your mouth and sticking the fingers coated in your icing in it.“Clean this up, while I clean you down here.”- he lifted his hand a bit to make you close your mouth around his fingers, pumping them in and out to insure you will do the job well. You sobbed in a low voice as you sucked on your own cum, barely concentrating on his order when the feeling of him patiently licking off the wetness along your thighs and getting closer to your cunt made you almost faint. His soft muscle finally found its way to the grand prize, as he brushed it on your folds and around your entrance in circular motions. You could not take it, you started to push your ass back, trying to make him stick his tongue in, touch your clit, anything to give you the sweet release you so desperately needed. But he will not grant you that. He pressed his mouth right on your heated hole, and started sucking, gathering the last of your juices. You body was on the edge, you could feel your heart skipping a beat, lungs barely catching air and muscles tensing, begging for that much needed release, but the only thing you got was a tender kiss on your clit, before he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and lifting you off of him. He placed you in the sitting position, spreading your legs so your cunt was fully exposed to him once more. Your own wetness was smeared around your lips. You lowered your gaze, seeing something that made your mouth drop open. On Benimaru’s loose pants, there were more than clear outlines of his thick dick. You never saw something like that before, stretching the fabric mercilessly. He was not big, he was huge, and you wanted every damn inch buried inside of you. But you again forgot that this was not your lucky day….“You can only watch as I get the release that you are forbidden to reach tonight.” he slid his hand under his pants, giving his length a couple of experimental pumps before exposing the beast to you.“If you will behave, next time I will reward you, this time you will only swallow your bratty words…and my cum.”- he started slowly jerking it off, gazing at your plumb lips where his load will end.

If you want to support my work, you can leave me a small tip on Ko-fi 💖 . It is highly appreciated. 🥺 😍

[buttterknifeee]

Hey! Can you do headcannons for Cyborg and Aquagirl!reader (platonically) spending a day making food together and just hanging out and at the end of the day all the titans eat together and keep complimenting them for their awesome food! Please and thank you so much, but also no pressure if you decide you don’t like it much. Have a good day 💚🖤

Hey!!! I love this idea I hope you're having a lovely day as well!!! Here's a small blurb sorry it took so long haha

.

You and Cyborg have this tradition. Every Sunday you team together and make a load of food for the rest of the week. It’s really relaxing, you listen to music, try new recipes, and just talk about life like teens do.

You woke up and quickly got ready. Skipping over to the kitchen, you saw that Cyborg was already there, apron on and everything. You always laugh at the sight of him in an apron: he’s a 6’2 guys made of metal that could crush you if he wanted to, but he also had a little cartoon robot on his apron.

“Morning Cy!” you cheerfully, putting on your own apron. It was white with a little fish on it that you painted yourself. “Where are the others?”

“Morning A.G.!” Cyborg yawns, getting out pots and pans. Today you were going to attempt to make a giant lasagna, with homemade pasta.

“Beast Boy’s playing video games, Raven’s doing some spell stuff in her room, Star’s probably still asleep, and Robin is patrolling the city.” he says, taking his collection of spices out from a cabinet.

“So that means a whole day of you and me making pasta!” you concluded.

“You know it!”

You spent the rest of the morning making pasta dough, putting it through those flattener things, until you had nice sheets of pasta ready for cooking. You Cyborg started to make tomato sauce while you got sandwiches ready for the other Titans. They were lined up neatly on a cutting board for each of the Titans to grab.

Robin rushed into the room, grabbing a sandwich and stuffing it in his mouth. He mumbles something through his vigorous eating then leaves, continuing his patrol.

Starfire flies in, holding something behind her back.

“Glorious day, friends! May I suggest a Tamaranean ingredient for your cooking endeavors?”

“I dont-”

“Here! It is a fruit from the scaly growths in Tamaran! This is much of a delicacy in my home, as long as you don’t breathe in the fumes for too long!” She plopped an oozing piece of fruit into your hand, grabbed a sandwich, and flew away. Your hand tensed as the fruit continued to ooze, your other hand over your nose. Cyborg also held his nose and took out a pair of tongs. He proceeded to grab the fruit and dump in it the trash, tongs and all. He turned to you, your hand covered in suspicious smelling fruit juice.

“You might wanna wash that,” he said.

Beast Boy walked in after the fiasco died down. He recoiled at the smell.

“Dude, did something throw up and die in here??” he squeaked, covering his nose.

“You don’t even wanna know,” you groaned. He shrugged and took his sandwich, plopping down on the couch to eat it.

Raven materialized out of nowhere, causing the three of you to jump. Beast Boy turned into a mouse and scampered away, sandwich in his mouth. Raven silently tooked the sandwich and left, a small portal created by her magic taking her to her room.

It was later in the day, and the lasagna was baking in the oven. You and Cyborg were sitting at tables near the kitchen, talking about the other titans.

“Did you see the way Robin looks at Starfire?” Cyborg says, you giggling.

“You should see how Starfire talks about Robin on our girls nights!” you laugh. You heard a ding indicating that the lasagna was done. He takes the bubbling dish out of the oven and a warm smell overtakes the tower (you have thrown out the whole trash can containing the fruit in a dumpster on the other side of town). You two high five in satisfaction. The delicious smell drew out the other titans, and soon the other four titans came trickling out of their rooms. You all sat together to enjoy the delicious food you and Cyborg made.

“This is great you guys!” Robin says, looking at the two of you. You smile at his compliment.

“Yeah, and thanks for making mine vegetarian!” Beast Boy says through his stuffed mouth.

“I still don’t-” Cyborg mumbled, but you cut him off.

"Of course B.B.! Extra tofu, just like you like it!” You say with a wink.

“Thank you for this delicious meal, I assume that the fruit I have given you is in this layered dish?” Starfire asked, her eyes sparkling like a puppy dog.

“Um, we’re actually uhhhh… saving it for another dish!” you stutter, thinking of the trashcan you left it in on the other side of the city. “Yeah… it’s in the fridge… but behind a bunch of vegetables so there’s no point in looking for it haha.”

Before Starfire could respond, you Cyborg changed the subject. “Man, I am stuffed!”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” Robin said. “Well I better get go-”

“Ahp. Stop right there,” you smirk. Cyborg also smiles. “You know the rules.”

“The people who cook don’t have to clean!” Cyborg says. The other titans look at the giant pile of dishes you used in your cooking. It's going to be a long night for the rest of them.

[itsallyscorner]

Ooooh can I do positions with Sebastian Stan???

Omg hi!!!🖤 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like it!🥰

Thank you for the requests!! And thank you for the support love! I hope you enjoy this and my other requests (which I need to do soon)!🖤🥰 @its-izzys

💌.

positions

a/n: Decided to switch it up for this one and made the song about Seb’s feelings towards the reader:)

warnings: Some smut for you filthy animals😉

Heaven sent you to me

I'm just hopin’ I don't repeat history

It has been known that Sebastian has poor judgement in romantic partners. Now, that doesn’t apply to everyone he’s dated but there are a few who were just out of line. Everyone knew he wasn’t the best at relationships. His family, friends, heck even his fans could see through the facade of his so called “girlfriends”. He could never tell the difference between someone who’s using him and someone who genuinely liked him. Sebastian was one to be intoxicated with his feelings and loses himself in the moment. Which was probably why he never found anything wrong with the ‘candid’ paparazzi pictures or the constant posting of proof that someone was with him.

You were different from all the other girls he had dated. You were like Spring to his Winter. You symbolized a new beginning for him. Like how Spring would mark the beginning of a new season with its blossoming flowers and the awakening of animals, you brought liveliness to his cold and dark life. You actually terrified him to the core. He was afraid to fall for you because you were well off on your own. In his head you didn’t need him, but he needed you. You kept the grown man on his toes and without you he was not sure how he would survive.

Unlike the other girls, he was scared to loose you. Not only were you the most loyal, selfless, kindest, and caring person he knew. But he knew you genuinely loved him for him. He knew that you could care less about the fame, his social status, or the money. You wanted him for him. You wanted him at his worst, at his best, all parts of him. And it terrifies him that he could fuck it all up in an instant and loose you completely. If that happened he wouldn’t know what to do because he’s never experienced a love like yours. Compared to the others, he wasn’t going to repeat history and make stupid decisions, this time he was going to try and not fuck it up.

Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday

Then make a lotta love on a Monday (Ah, ah)

Never need no (No), no one else, babe

’Cause I'll be

Sebastian would do anything to make you happy. Seeing that contagious smile on your face always gave him butterflies in his stomach that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Hey Sebba?” You asked as you knocked on the wall of his home office one day. Sebastian’s eyes leave the script he had been reading for the past hour and a half as he turned to your figure leaning against the doorframe. You were cladded in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of those biker shorts that made your bum look incredible.

“How was your nap, draga?” He was about to get up from his swivel chair when you motioned for him to stay. You settled yourself onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Resting your cheek against his head you began to play with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“It was good. Except someone wasn’t there when I woke up.” You softly answered as Sebastian pressed light kisses along your neck.

“The bed was cold without you.” You frowned against his hair. The scent of his shampoo filling up your senses.

“I’m sorry, I got excited when the script came and I couldn’t help myself.” He apologized as his squeezed your hips.

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckled as you leaned back to look down at him. He stared up at you with those ocean eyes that you just wanted to constantly dive into.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you.” You jumped in his lap as you remembered the text your mother had sent you earlier that morning. Sebastian nods at you, “What’s up?”

He saw how you slightly shrunk into your body and how your arms unwrapped around him so you can fiddle with your fingers. A little tic you had when you were either nervous or embarrassed. Sebastian comfortingly pressed his large warm hand against your back as the other took one of your hands into his.

“So...um. My mom’s birthday is during the weekend and we’re planning on having a dinner party with the family.” You started as you looked at your and Sebastian’s connected hands.

“My mom said she’d like it if you came along. She wants to finally meet you and she thinks the rest of the family would too.” You finished as you glanced up at him.

You were quick to tell him that it was his choice. You didn’t want to pressure him into suddenly meeting your family. Though it would be nice for him to finally meet everyone, you had to respect whether he was ready or not.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to come!” He immediately agreed, a wide smile on his face that made the sides of his eyes crinkle. Your head snaps up to him in shock. You were expecting to find a playful glint in his eyes but it was nothing but sincerity and joy.

“Wait, you want to meet my family?”

“Of course I do, draga. It’s your family we’re talking about! They’re the most important people in your life and it’d be an honor to meet all of them.” He explained as he gripped both of your hands. Sebastian felt himself smile when he saw the corners of your lips raise to your cheeks.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Seb. Thank you!” You excitedly wrapped your arms around him again pulling him into a suffocating hug. You felt his chest vibrate against yours as he chuckled.

He hummed as he savored the feeling of your limbs wrapped around him and how elated he felt when you were around him. Wrapping his arms around your figure he mumbled into your ear, “Plus, I should finally thank your parents for creating the love of my life.”

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do

That I won't do, switchin’ for you

The aroma of spices lingered around the house after the delicious dinner Seb had cooked. You guys decided to have an at home date night since the two of you weren’t in the mood to get all dressed up for a restaurant. Plus Sebastian had just gotten back from the airport after months on end of filming in Atlanta.

The two of you were now out on the balcony of your shared apartment sipping on glasses of wine. The two of you looked out towards the city as you leaned against Sebastian’s chest. There wasn’t much talking, just the sounds of the city and each other’s breathing.

“Thank you for dinner. Although, it should’ve been me cooking for you, because you literally just came back from filming.” You turn around in his arms as you admire the man in front of you.

“No, I wanted to cook for you. You’ve been so understanding with my job and the hectic schedules. Plus we had to be apart for so long, I owe you.” Sebastian explained as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

You shook your head at him, “You don’t owe me anything, Seb. You’re just doing your job and I understand that.”

“No, I do. I get that we had our night time calls and FaceTime sessions but it just isn’t the same as being in person with you.” He started.

“You’ve been so supportive and patient with me. While I’ve left you waiting here for so long.” He shook his head at himself before looking down at you. His blue eyes now dark with longing and lust. He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. His plush lips leaving a lingering kiss on your own.

“Let me take care of you, (y/n).”

Perfect, perfect

You're too good to be true (You're too good to be true)

But I get tired of runnin', fuck it

Now, I’m runnin' with you (With you)

Sebastian laid you down gently on the cool comforter of the bedroom. The atmosphere around you two felt heavy as your lips clashed together with desperation and passion. Though the months of not seeing each other were miserable, it began to all feel worth it when you felt his touch for the first time again.

Your hands roamed his body, only stopping when they were hovering over his sweatpants, where a bulge was starting to form. Sebastian pulled away from your lips and took your hand, placing it to rest along his shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you, I just want to focus on you.” His voice was soft and quiet compared to the events that were about to go down between you two.

He gazed down at you for a moment before his palm came up to rest against your cheek. He latched his lips onto yours, nipping at your bottom lips to grant his tongue access into your mouth. Your tongues poked and licked against each other. The heat below you was getting hotter and hotter, making your heartbeat race and a thin layer of sweat to form on your body.

Sebastian moved on to kiss along your jaw and neck. He stopped at your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin until a mark began to form. He helped you take your shirt off, throwing it aside to land on the floor. He watched as your breasts bounced in your red lace bra as you landed on your back again. He sucked in his breath as he looked at you through hooded eyes.

“Take this off, Sebby.” You voice was low with sultry as your nails teasingly dragged on his abs. He yanked his shirt off and threw it to the side. He dived down to claim your lips again, his hands running down to grip your thighs and wrap them around his torso. He ground down on you causing you to softly moan as his clothed crotch pressed down on your mound.

His mouth teased your nipples through your bra. He grazed his teeth along the lace material before sucking on your clothed nipple. He repeated the same action on your other nipple. You pulled on his soft hair as you watched him concentrate on pleasuring you. Your nipples were now peaking against the lace, wanting to be freed from the material. One of his hands flatten on your back and fiddle with the bra until it comes undone. His warm tongue attaches to your breast as soon as they’re exposed, giving them both the attention they needed.

He helps you take your shorts off before removing his sweats. He shifts himself so he’s laying in between your legs with your soaking heat in front of him. You feel his breath against your core causing goosebumps to form on your arms and legs.

“Draga I could smell you all the way here. I’ve been making you wait for too long, huh?” His voice teased you with hints of dominance. He enjoyed the effects he had on you. The way you instantly opened your legs for him and how he was the only one who could make you dripping wet without even doing anything.

You nodded against the pillow and looked down at him. A smirk was on his lips as his nose swiped along your clothed slit. He pressed a searing kiss above your mound as his eyes remained connected to yours.

“Who made you this wet, baby?” He asked huskily against your heat. He felt you clench around nothing as he kissed the wet lace that covered your pussy.

“You did, Seb.” You breathed out.

“Damn right I did.” He pulled your panties off you, the cold air meeting your heat. His mouth was agape as he was met with your heat glistening with arousal. He moaned at the sight and stuffed his face between your thighs. You let out a moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

His tongue flattened against your folds until he found your bud. His mouth latched onto it, sucking and licking at your clit. You emitted a moan, your back arching, as his mouth helped release the tension that was building up in you. He hummed in approval as he brought his fingers to spread your wetness through your folds. His finger teased your entrance before it smoothly slipped in. Sebastian groaned as he felt you clench down on his finger. He moved his finger in and out until he felt you ease up around him. He added a second finger stretching you out a bit more. He made a come hither motion with his fingers as they rubbed against your walls. When his fingers began hitting a familiar spongy area, your toes curled as you hips rutted against him.

He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you down. You were a mess above him. One of your hands gripping the sheets as the other pulled on his hair. Your head was thrown back, your hair sticking to your face as you moaned at the immense pleasure Sebastian was giving you.

“I can feel you. C’mon baby, cum on my fingers.” He rasped out before his tongue flicked rapidly at your bud. Your knees had came up to your chest as the tension in your body had reached a peak. With the harsh and fast movements from his tongue and fingers, you came with a loud choking moan as your body trembled above him. Your cum spilling all over his hand. Sebastian licked you clean as you came down from your high. He kissed your thighs before coming up to rest his forehead against yours.

“I missed the taste of you. Missed you so much.” He muttered as he licked his fingers. He left some of your cum on his fingers so you can have a taste of yourself. You sucked on his fingers until they were clean of your juice.

Sebastian pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with you. One hand interlocked with yours while the other led his cock into your sensitive entrance.

“Te iubesc.” He said as he pushed himself into you. Your breath hitched as your walls hugged onto his length. You were filled with him to the brim. You felt the veins along his length and the weight of him in you.

“Si eu te iubesc.” You whimpered as he pushed even deeper into you. His eyes intensely locked onto yours as his hips rocked back and forth. His cock pushing in and out of you. He was dizzy with the feeling of you around him. You were like a drug and he was addicted to you. Everything about you was perfect. He fit into you like a puzzle piece, like you were meant for him, and he didn’t need anyone else. Just you.

This some shit that I usually don't do (Yeah)

But for you, I kinda, kinda want to (Mmm)

'Cause you're down for me and I'm down too

Sebastian would do anything for you. If he could, he would take you around the world to show you new places that you’ve been dreaming of visiting. He wasn’t afraid to show you off. Of course, he was private when it came to your relationship, but when he had the chance to show you off he always took it. He was proud to take you to premieres and introduce you to his friends and co-stars. Everyone could see how deeply in love he was with you. They’ve never seen him so entranced with someone. From the way he looked at you to how his hand was always protectively on you.

Sebastian thanked his lucky stars as he watched you lean against the balcony railing of the hotel you two were staying at in Paris. You were watching the city below you as the wind blew against your hair. The sun shined on you enhancing your natural glow. You looked so relaxed and carefree as if you’ve never had experience a day of stress in your life. He saw a small smile on your face as your fingers skimmed the rail.

You turned around to see Sebastian sitting on a chair inside the bedroom. He was staring at you, a dreamy look on his face. You smiled at him and giggled.

“Get over here and look at the city with me.” You motioned for him to come over as you held your hand out for him. He got up and took your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles. You turned around to lean against his chest as his buff arms wrapped around your figure. His head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against the bare skin every few minutes.

He could stay there for eternity. You in his arms as you both silently watched the hues of pink, purple, and orange take over the sky in Paris. You were all he needed, it didn’t matter where he was, he just needed to have you with him.

draga ~ darling

te iubesc ~ I love you

si eu te iubesc ~ I love you too 

[volchi]

Hearth Magic

Lately I have been very fascinated with fire cooking, and the potential for spellwork using the fire, pan and food itself. The advantage here is the consumption of the spell; you can put people under your control, empower them, weaken them, heal them, by having them literally put the magic inside them and carry it around with them so you dont have to snoop around hunting for taglocks for malefic curses or have the disadvantage of somebody needing to carry a protective charm on them which they may be likely to lose.

I was heavily inspired by a post made by @/qedavathegrey detailing the practical similarities between witchery and cooking. I cook frequently over a fire so I was wondering if I could lay a trick over bread or pastries using fire. So anyway:

First you need to know how to cook over a fire. I dont fuck with charcoal briquettes! And a lot of potency from the spell can come from the type of wood you use. For example:

Apple or sugar maple wood for love workings

Mulberry wood for spells intended to make others obey you

Cedar wood for ancestor work

Oak wood for jovian and abundance work

Pine wood for protection and empowerment/healing anxiety

And so on. In these types of spells I would use fires from materials that are as natural as possible. In some places "living fire" or fire that you started by rubbing two sticks together is very powerful in spellwork. I don't know about you but I am absolutely not able to start a fire by doing that, so if you cannot start the fire like so I would at least breath on it to stoke the fire. While making the fire you can also raise a lot of energy -- it's a pain in the ass so making a fire while pissed off can't hurt for a curse.

Also if you don't have a bunch of different types of firewood at your disposal, you can also add things to the existing fire to help it power the spell. For example, herbs, objects and things such as written psalms, sigils, tarot cards and playing cards can be thrown in. One possible method for herbs close with water could be to gather the herbs, wet them, and put them into tinfoil with holes poked in it so that it is constantly steaming as the fire is burning. (this also keeps bugs away. :) Around the area that you are starting the fire, you could also draw a circle in the dirt for extra protection during the spell. The whole idea is to enchant the fire so that whatever you cook with it will also be tricked.

When you're actually cooking the food, it takes a little while to adjust to using a fire so i would give it a few tries. I always use my cast iron cauldron, and you ALWAYS cook over the coals unless you're like boiling water or something. Don't fall for the cute little larpy pictures of people cooking over the high flames! You'll end up with half of your food burnt to shit, half of it ice cold and ALL of your pan completely black and charred.

Also you don't really want the coals to touch the bottom. Because it will burn. It just gets way too hot. My cauldron has little legs to keep it high up but if yours doesn't you'll want to suspend it from a chain or prop it up between 3 rocks, maybe a little metal grill.

If you're cooking soup or frying something you just need coals on the bottom, but if you're making bread or cake you'll want to actually preheat the cauldron like it's an oven, and shovel coals on the lid too. My bread keeps getting burnt on the bottom so maybe put more coals on the top. Bread holds up pretty well to cooking over a fire actually, in my opinion because it's wild and temperamental just like that fire.

And, once you're done cooking, if you laid a malefic curse over the food you can also save the salt used to clean the cast iron for future curses. :)

Anyway here are a few possibilities!

Blessing/Protection Strawberry Pie (for safety and ease at sea)

Start a fire from pine wood. Into the fire, put herbs St John's Wort, Angelica root, Hawthorn, Blackberry thorns etc you favorite combination of empowerment and luck herbs with "fuck off" herbs. To tailor it for protection at sea i will also be adding psalm 64 and swallow feathers.

It's for one person so we'd be making a mini tart, let's say strawberry rhubarb because of strawberries being sweet and lucky. You could also use blackberry for its protection. Or any medley of berries. Into the tart you can also slip some powdered/tinctured st johns wort, chamomile, etc lucky or soothing EDIBLE herbs. maybe not too much to change the flavor? but funny tasting witch tarts seem to be part of the charm LOL

So to cook a small tart you'll need a small pie tin, and you'd need to preheat the oven itself to about 350 fahrenheit. Maybe lift it off the bottom so it won't burn. You can blind bake the pie crust if you want. Its small so i would put the pie crust in with the filling, brush with egg and sprinkle some sugar, and cook for 15 minutes.

When it's done, you can whisper psalm 64 over it or what corresponds with your intention, and whoever eats it will be protected.

Otnovo --

Good Old Fashioned Love Spell Bread

This one is folksy and not a hundred percent ethical but it's just for educational purposes and I'm not your mom so. Make a fire from apple wood or maple wood. To this fire add sunflower petals, apple peels, orange peels, rose petals and ferns.

In the bread, if you can, mash in a (whole, fresh) mole heart in the liquid, maybe make it a beer bread to mask the meat flavor, or maybe make it stuffed bread and mix the mole heart with spiced pork or chicken, it's all up to you! If you don't have mole meat just lying around you can add coriander to the bread and similar love herbs and spices (take care that it doesnt taste like shit)

Preheat the oven by shoveling coals underneath but mostly on the lid and let it be for 15 minutes. It should be about 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Put the bread in, cook it for 20 minutes, and give to the person you are interested in.

Those two were examples so let me know how they work if you do them, obviously this method heavily depends on what you have accessible to you so just use what you got! Happy spellwork :)