#frosty's dark!fics

[frostedfaves]

Stay the Night

Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda came to Westview for a fresh start, but meeting someone new brings back old habits.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, magical mental manipulation (courtesy of Wanda), a bit of forced submission, implied masturbation and sex toy mention, other insinuated things (no questions please 🤠), kidnapping and blood mention, WandaVision AU that completely disregards Endgame to give WandaNat a real happy ending

A/N: it’s been literal months since the last time I posted anything, but I was determined to at least get this first part out eventually even if I only had 3 followers left. no idea what I’m doing going forward because so much has changed with me that I’m not even sure what I want to write, I just know I want to. anyway here’s the ask that inspired this

-

“Where are you headed, love?”

Wanda stops with her hand on the doorknob, the other gripping the handle of a can of paint with a brush resting on top. She carefully turns so as not to drop the unsecured item and acknowledges her wife from across the room.

“I’m going to fix the paint I chipped, Natalia.”

“You mean you aren’t going to wave your magic wand this time?” Natasha’s eyes are narrowed but her playful smile gives her away. “I never knew you were such a handywoman.”

“As if you’re so surprised about what my hands can do.”

The front door is closed behind Wanda, muffling whatever comeback Natasha was beginning to make, and she makes her way over to the corner of the house that didn’t match the rest. With careful strokes, the damaged area is covered in a brilliant shade of red, glistening in the sun as it begins to dry. She’s just about to head in when she hears a voice she doesn’t recognize followed by her neighbor’s door slamming closed and footsteps. Wandering across the lawn to get a better look, she notices a young woman sitting on the porch wearing shorts that are very similar to her overalls and a loose T-shirt with extra fabric that gets trapped between her stomach and thigh when she bends over to fix her shoe.

“Hey.”

You look up from your seat on the porch and notice a woman with reddish-orange hair studying you with hands slightly stained red resting on the fence. Her eyes glance between you and her hands and she quickly catches on, removing them with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m an artist…if you count repairing a scuffed wall as art.”

“Let’s see.” You stand and look over at the spot she was working on. “Yeah, I’d pay to see it in a museum.”

Her laugh causes you to grin as you approach her from the other side of the fence, placing your own hands just an inch or two from where hers used to be as you introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Wanda.” She makes a movement to shake your hand and quickly changes her mind when she catches sight of her own again. “I’m not usually this forgetful, dear. Anyway, I was wondering if you were new to the neighborhood. I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Technically, although I don’t live here. My friend just moved in and I thought I’d visit her now that she’s all set.” You lean in just a bit closer and slightly lower your voice. “She wouldn’t even let me take off work until she had every room unpacked and organized. I made a joke that she wanted to set up her sex dungeon first so I wouldn’t accidentally find any of her tools and she didn’t like it very much.”

“She probably shouldn’t come to our house then,” Wanda teases but your brows raise slightly.

“Our?”

“Yes, I live with my wife. Actually, we haven’t met your friend either. Would the two of you like to come over for dinner later? We’d love to welcome her to the neighborhood properly.”

“I think I can talk her into it.” You turn toward the house when you hear your name called through a cracked window and quickly face Wanda again. “I have to go but I’ll–we’ll–see you tonight?”

“Anytime after 7 works for us. I might go a bit overboard but I promise it won’t be anything fancy. You could even wear pajamas if you want,” she offers and you laugh.

“Be careful or I might take you up on that. Okay, see you then!” You disappear into the house again with an enthusiastic wave as Wanda supervises before heading into her own home to share the news with her loving partner.

“So you invited this anonymous new neighbor and her friend over for dinner…tonight?” Natasha repeats and Wanda nods in response. “May I ask why you suddenly want two strangers in our home?”

“One of the strangers is really cute,” Wanda pouts as she grabs Natasha’s hands, allowing herself to be led over to the sink to have the paint washed off her skin.

“Meaning?”

“New pet,” she admits, growing nervous when Natasha freezes mid scrub.

“No.”

“But Nat–”

“Don’t ‘but Nat’ me, Wanda,” the redhead mocks as she continues scrubbing. “I let you try this already and it didn’t work.”

“I think you’ll like her too.”

“I doubt it.”

“But what if she’s really good? Really obedient? I heard you like that.”

“How can you be so sure? I’ve never experienced it.”

“Rude.” Wanda lightly nudges her away with her hip and reaches for the paper towels. “I’m just saying…don’t let one bad apple ruin the bunch or whatever that saying is. Don’t you think it’d be fun to have something new to play with?”

“I’m assuming you’ve already given her a test run then.”

“Not yet.” Wanda returns to Natasha’s side with a paper towel for her hands and drops her head onto her shoulder. “I figured you might want to help me.”

-

You ring the doorbell at exactly 7:01, hoping Sheri will take your subtle but constant movements as nerves and not excitement to see Wanda again. You had no idea what her wife was like or if she’d even like you, then again you barely knew Wanda either. What you were hoping to get out of this gathering was also still a mystery.

“You’re here! Welcome to our home!” Wanda greets you cheerily as she opens the door and you go to respond with the same level of excitement, instead driving an elbow into Sheri’s side when you notice her staring at the older pair.

“Sorry…No one told me I was having dinner with two Avengers.”

“Technically we’re not Avengers anymore,” a woman replies behind Wanda and she steps aside to reveal her wife, you’re assuming. “Natasha, but I’m guessing you knew that already.”

“So why did you leave the team?” Sheri inquires as she follows Natasha to the dining room and Wanda closes the door behind her, and you don’t miss the way she subtly guides you for a second with a gentle hand on your back.

“I don’t know. Something about half the world disappearing for five years really just…”

“...wears you out?” Wanda suggests as she pulls your chair out for you and Natasha shakes her head.

“I was going to say it makes me want to isolate myself from everything and everyone I’ve ever known, but yes, that too.” She takes a seat and begins pouring wine into a glass. “I wanted to go a bit further than New Jersey, but I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed my time here.”

“Do you mind telling me more about this place?” you ask once Wanda is done serving everyone and takes a seat across from you. “If it sounds good, maybe I’ll move too.”

You were partially joking but something about Wanda’s eyes suddenly brightening and even Natasha’s sudden interest in your statement made you want to consider the possibility.

“What would you like to know?”

-

Two hours later, the room is filled with laughter in response to the latest joke passed around the table. Dinner was even more enjoyable than you imagined it could be, the four of you talking nonstop between bites of food. The atmosphere was so energetic that you were genuinely surprised when Sheri yawned and stood up suddenly.

“I just want to say that I’ve had so much fun over here and I’m so glad you were the first neighbors I met. I hope you won’t be mad if I head home now, though.”

“So soon?” you pout and she sighs.

“I know, but I’m exhausted from all the preparation I did before you came. You’re welcome to stay here though, if you both don’t mind,” she adds with a glance at the hosts, and they both grin.

“Of course we don’t mind!” Natasha speaks up before Wanda can, rising to a stance as well. “After all, we did promise her a movie night. Who says that can’t be tonight?”

“We’re also still in the process of convincing her to move,” Wanda adds.

“Okay, well…You know where the spare is but if you forget, my ringer will be on.”

You all exchange goodbyes with Sheri while Natasha walks her out, even making sure she’s inside before returning to the table. Wanda waves off your attempt to help her clear the table in the meantime and Natasha takes a seat next to you.

“So…how about that movie?”

“Sure! I just have to run to the bathroom and then we can start.”

“No, you can wait.” You raise your brows with a laugh that’s cut short when her hand on your thigh stops you from getting up. “If you think I’m joking, you’re wrong. You’ll go when we say so. Got it?”

After a couple seconds you silently nod. She clears her throat and you almost immediately realize what she wants from you.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver travels down your spine as her fingertips lightly drag across your thigh before she stands, offering the same hand to you which you accept instantly. She leads you into a different room with a couch sitting in front of a projector aimed at the only wall that’s completely empty. Wanda appears a minute later with glasses of water and a blanket that she spreads across your laps once she’s settled. After the projector is set up, each woman scoots closer and rests her head against her hand, elbows pressed into the couch behind you as the movie is played.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed since the movie started, but at some point you notice your bathroom need has become a little more urgent. One of your legs begins to bounce under the blanket and shortly after, Wanda grabs your chin and turns your head toward her, pushing the rim of a glass to your lips.

“Open,” she quietly commands and you obey, reluctantly swallowing the water she carefully pours in. “Good girl.”

The water only touches the halfway mark of the glass now but you feel twice as full. Your attention strays from the movie as your leg bounces even faster now, and you’re practically holding back whimpers with the effort of trying not to piss your pants on the couch. It’s almost to the point where you think that might be your only option when Natasha leans just a bit closer to whisper in your ear.

“Go. You have our permission.”

Wanda throws the blanket aside before you can try to unscramble your thoughts to figure out how to do so yourself, and you follow the path you remember Sheri taking earlier in the night down the hall to the bathroom. You finally sit down and let out a sigh of relief that turns into a gasp when you feel a bit of cum slipping out of you as well. This is a sudden development that you don’t think you have the time or clarity to explore.

Instead, you return to the couch to finish the movie, releasing a very real yawn as the credits roll that prompts the two older women to call it a night. Natasha begins to clean up as Wanda walks you home, that same guiding hand resting on your back the whole way there.

“Thank you so much for coming over tonight, lovely,” she speaks quietly in the still air of the night, a warm smile appearing under the porch light. “Promise to come back soon?”

“Of course,” you answer pretty quickly, surprising yourself. “Although I don’t want to just abandon Sheri. She’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“She’s welcome too, sweet girl. We loved her company as well.” Wanda squeezes your hand and places her palm on your cheek for just a moment, admiring the way you lean into her before she pulls away. “Now get inside and rest for me, please.”

“Okay, I will. Goodnight, Wanda.”

You grab the spare key from its hiding spot and let yourself in, locking the door behind you and watching through one of the front windows as Wanda makes her way back home. Sheri’s loud snores are easily heard over whatever show she fell asleep on, and you carefully close her bedroom door to muffle the sound a bit as you make your way to your room. After changing into something more suitable for bed and grabbing your favorite toy from your suitcase, you turn on your own TV and settle under the covers with thoughts of your temporary neighbors helping you get off.

“You were gone so long I thought you tucked her in for the night,” Natasha greets Wanda as she comes in, and she laughs.

“Not yet, but we’ll get there.” Wanda approaches Natasha slowly and places her hands on her shoulders, taking her time until she can lock their fingers together. “I’ve never known you to be jealous before.”

“Well I did want a bit more time with her but she can’t be rushed. You’re right; she seems very sweet and…obedient.”

“Does that mean we can keep her?” Wanda blinks rapidly with a little pout and cheers when Natasha nods. “You won’t regret it, I promise. We’re going to train her so well.”

“I’m guessing that means you already have a plan to get her to stay.”

-

The next morning, you head into the bathroom to shower and go through your whole routine while replaying last night in your head. You finally resurface once you’re fully dressed, genuinely surprised when Sheri isn’t plating breakfast or waiting with her car keys in hand to go pick something up.

“Sher-bear, you’re the early riser in our duo,” you tease as you head toward her bedroom. “And you’re always hungry in the morning so why aren’t you–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as you open her door, met with the startling scene of glass covering her twisted bedsheets, knocked in from the broken window. What scares you even more is the couple of spots on the carpet stained with either smeared or drops of blood. You run back to your room and grab your phone to call the police, deciding you’ll feel safer doing so in the presence of two Avengers. You’re banging frantically on their front door in less than a minute, not caring how crazy you look with tears streaming down your cheeks and staining your sleeve as you attempt to wipe them away.

“Sweet girl, what’s going on?” Wanda immediately questions as she pulls you through the doorway, giving a quick look outside before locking the door behind you. “Are you alright? Where’s Sheri?”

“She’s gone,” you begin sobbing at the mention of your best friend’s name.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Natasha inquires while entering the room, placing her hands on your shoulders as Wanda rubs your back in an attempt to calm you. “What did you see?”

“I think someone broke in and kidnapped her. The window was smashed in and there was blood on the carpet and a few things knocked over too. I was going to call the police but I thought I should come here first in case someone was still there.”

“You did the right thing by coming to us, love.” Natasha walks out of the room for a second and returns with a gun in hand. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone in while I’m gone.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?” Wanda offers, though her arm is wrapped around your shoulders now.

“No, I’ll be fine. She needs protection here in case there is still a lingering threat.”

“Be careful.” Wanda locks the door behind her, adjusting her robe as she returns to you and you can’t help glancing once at her partially covered bare chest. “Come on, let’s get you some tea to calm your nerves a bit.”

Natasha hides her weapon until she’s inside Sheri’s home, approaching her bedroom and assessing it for a moment from the doorway before closing it up again. She pulls on a pair of gloves and unlocks the basement door, heading down the stairs and silently approaching the soundproofed room.

Sheri’s head is leaning back against the same wall that the chair she’s in is resting on, her arms and legs tied to it, eyes and ears covered and mouth gagged. Natasha quickly pours a glass of water and watches a pill dissolve into it before approaching Sheri. She carefully removes the gag and forces her jaw open with a gloved hand, using the water to muffle her panicked cries and shushing her when she chokes slightly.

“We’re gonna need you to stay quiet for just a little bit longer if this is going to work.”

[donnieluvsthings]

Secret hedgehog gift for @frostios! Happy Holidays!!! <3333

[kpopnstarwars]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a  goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call  you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life in the City 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: I think I'm addicted to thick men.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Tuesday sees a new block in your calendar. The three hour meeting stands out in the internal calendar as its highlighted bright yellow. You don’t know where it’s come from. You’re nervous.

Have you done something wrong? Is this a firing? Does that really take three hours?

You try not to let your innate insecurity get the best of you. You click on it but the new window offers little more than the time. All participants are hidden and there’s no description aside from ‘meeting’. The only other information is the conference room number. Right, so you’re going to implode in the hour leading up to it.

You try to focus but the Excel lines are much tighter than usual. They seem to blur together as you file through a thousand different possibilities and none of them are good. What do you do if you are in trouble? If you do lose your job? You have nothing to fall back on.

You get up ten minutes from the start of the meeting. The building is still new to you and you have to check the placards on the wall to make sure you’re at the right conference room. The door is already open and you slow down as you see Tony strut through ahead of you. This definitely seems off. He’s one of the top execs…

What if it’s a mistake? What if you were added by accident? Maybe you misunderstood it. Maybe it was a notice to stay away. Oh, you’re so confused.

You enter the room and hug your notebook to your chest. The table against the far wall is arranged with trays of catering; pastries, fruits, veggies, quiche, all sorts of delights. Alongside the treats are coffee and tea and a frosty jug of water.

Tony helps himself to a cup of coffee and several tarts. Several other seats are already filled. You vaguely recognise them, not all by name, but you know they’re from various departments. You sit at the table and lay your notebook down, nervously gripping the spiral as you flick your thumb against the tip of the pen slid within.

No one else seems to notice you. They all know each other and chatter among themselves. Five including you. Not very many at all. You wait, wondering who called the meeting as no one seems in a hurry to begin.

The door clicks but you’re the only one who hears it as they rest or deep in conversation. You peek over as Thor strides to the head of the table, stopping behind the high-backed chair.

“I hope you all helped yourselves to the wonderful treats,” he smiles, “don’t mind me as I grab a few before we begin.”

He carries on to the trays and you look down at your notebook. You open it to the first blank page and slide your pen free of the coil. You wiggle it between your fingers as you wait. Surely, it can’t be disciplinary. There’s food and Tony is one of the top guys.

Thor returns, a healthy mound of sweets and fruits on his plate and a steaming cup in the other. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, sighing as he peers up and down the table. You shrink down as you sit at the opposite end.

“Well, we are all here,” he declares, drawing the silence of the rest. They all turn their attention on him. “I think some of you already know why I’ve brought you here but we have lots of time to get filled in. We’ll be taking breaks of course but we won’t waste time, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” your voices reply out of turn.

“We will be working on a very special project. It’s big news that we’ve acquired Onyx Row and it’s all well and good to put a pretty bow on it and send out a release, but we have to handle all that background noise. We have to figure out how that works,” he explains. 

You’re almost hypnotised by his voice and the way he moves his hands as he speaks. He’s so confident and carefree. You envy him as much as you admire him.

“You have all been handpicked to take this on,” he pauses to look at each and every one of you. “We need a strong team. We’ll have new clients to take it and to retain, we’ll have new profits but new expenses as well, and we have a lot to learn about OR. We all know things are not always transparent in acquisitions.”

There’s a murmur of agreement as you stay silent. You’re still not sure you’re supposed to be here. You don’t have very much experience, just a certificate you got at the end of your degree. You chew your lip as you stare down the table, suddenly caught in the sights of another.

Thor’s blue eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples. You blanch and make yourself sit straight. You uncap your pen and quickly scribble in your notebook; Onyx Row. 

“Today’s strategy planning,” Thor says, “we’ll toss some ideas around until the first break, then after that, we’ll come up with a ladder.” He stacks his hands over and over as he talks, “figure out how we climb it. Step by step.”

There’s typing on keyboards. You regret not unhooking your laptop but your notebook’s just as good for notes. Tony leans backs as he chews a quiche, crumbs dusting down his jacket.

“Stark, why don’t you write something down, eh? You’re not here for a free meal.”

“That’s what you think,” Tony scoffs playfully but lets his chair snap straight and taps on his touch pad to wake up the laptop.

“Right then,” Thor stands, “I’ve a brief presentation to get us started before we start brainstorming.”

Your stomach swims. The displacement remains but at least you’re supposed to be there. Even if you’re not sure you’re the right choice. Everyone else in the room is a veteran and you’re just you. That’ll have to do.

Or maybe you’ll just show yourself to be a total noob.

🏙️

At the midpoint of the meeting, several new trays are added to the spread. It’s a lot for six people. You finally get up to grab a tea, steeping a bag of green in hot water, then take a small triangle of a tuna sandwich and a few pieces of fruit back to your seat. Despite the ice breakers round, you’re still shut out of the clique-like conversation of the others.

You don’t mind so much. Talk for business, nothing else. This is work. Besides, you’re so anxious you don’t know what you would say. You chalk it up as much to your own inaction as to their blatant exclusion.

The empty chair to your other side rolls back, frightening you as Thor sets down another plate of goodies and sits. You gulp and look at him as you quit your nibbling of the sandwich crust. You clear your throat and wipe your fingers on a napkin.

“Sir,” you greet with a cringing smile, “hi, er.”

“Thor will do,” he assures coolly, “are you enjoying the food?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer, trying to brighten up out of your cocoon, “it’s good.”

“Feel free to have more. There’s plenty to go around.”

“Thank you, that’s… I’m good,” you press your thumb to your index and bend and unbend your knuckle nervously.

“Tea?” He muses as he reaches to flick the small tap dangling from your cup.

“Mhm,” you nod awkwardly, “coffee burns my tum–stomach.”

He smiles broadly, “ah, mine too, but I’m stubborn.” He leans his elbow on the table, his chair turned to face you entirely, “are you nervous?”

Your eyes give you away as they widen at his blunt question. You dip your chin again, “a little. I… you know I only just started, right?”

“Yes, but you have your qualifications,” he insists.

“Yeah, uh, but…” you glance around at the others.

“But, I have faith in you. As I said, I picked every person in this room. You included. I know that new minds are as valuable as more experienced ones.”

“Well, er, thank you for taking a chance on me,” you bit your cheek and force a smile.

“You know, if no one had ever taken a chance on me, I might not be sat here with you right now,” he leans in just slightly, “everyone deserves their chance to prove themselves. I have faith in you, and what about you?”

“What about me?” Your cheeks wobble.

“Do you have faith in me?” He rests his chin in his hand, watching you intently.

“Y-yes, sir, uh, Thor,” you crackle out, “thanks, I…”

“Good,” he praises and sits up, “I’ll let you finish your food, if you don’t mind that I stay and do the same.”

He swivels the chair and picks up a cracker from his plate. You hum in acquiescence, barely able to muster words. The only permission he needs is your nervous reach for your tea. As if you would tell him to go. He’s the boss.

🏙️

You’re finally let free but you don’t feel as much. You have so much more to do now. You carry with you the folder handed out to each member of the room with an exhaustive overview of your session and the Onyx Road contract. 

You sit at your desk and take a moment to situate yourself. This is your priority. Everything else is second tier. That’s as much as Thor said but what are you going to do about Dawn breathing down your neck?

You fix the loose button on your cardigan that comes undone now and again, right at the worst spot; the middle. You pull the bottom straight and clear your throat, signing into your computer as you rejig back to work mode. 

As you shuffle through the emails you received in your absence, a figure approaches. You delete a redundant communication before you face them. You expect Dawn but instead, an all too familiar face looks down at you. Sitting, Thor seems to tower over you even more than usual. You feel like you should stand as he bends his neck to talk to you.

“I did forget to mention some things early. As you can expect, some details slip through the cracks in such a big project,” he spreads his hand on the corner of your desk.

“Oh, okay,” you grip the arms of your chair as you peer up at him.

“IT will be around to help connect to the shared drives required for the project,” Thor explains as he leans on one foot, hooking the other over it. “You will be dealing with some very important documents. Confidential so you will also need to relocate…” he looks around briefly, “you will be moved to a private office.”

“Uh, wow, that’s… okay,” you nod with a flutter of lashes.

“It’s a lot, I know, but you will be compensated. At special projects rate, no less,” he intones as he drags his hand up his suit jacket and curls his fingers around his lapel. His fingers are so thick. All of him is. And big. You’re getting vertigo just looking up at him. “You be in your new home by the end of the day.”

“Today?” You ask, almost breathless.

“Yes, we move fast around here,” he grins, “but I also wished to tell you that should you require any support, you will come to me. Your supervisor has been informed of your reassignment and your daily duties will be handed out to your colleagues for the duration of this project.”

“Uh huh,” you croak out, “that makes sense.”

“You understand, this is a big assignment. It could require late nights and… business trips.”

“Yes,” you lie. You really hadn’t considered that. In the contract you signed, it was for a desk, there was no travel, no overtime.

“Another matter for us to deal with. Travel pay, extra hours…” he drones as if bored.

“I understand,” you murmur.

He drops his hand to frame his hip, pushing back his jacket as he stays leaned against your desk. His eyes stick to you as they storm in mystery, “I like that sweater. It’s cute.”

You look down at the flower embroidery and your cheeks singe. Compared to him and the other execs, you were a touch underdressed. That’ll probably need to change too.

“Uh, yeah, I…” you fix the loose button again, “sorry, I’ll… I’ll buy a blazer.”

“I mean it,” he drags his hand from the desk and stands straight, “don’t buy the blazer, that suits you better.”

You crane your neck to look up at him again, “thanks, sir,” you fold your hands in your lap, “I… like your tie.”

You immediately want to disappear as the words trickle out. You sound so stupid. He touches his blue grey tie patterned with white paisley and examines it.

“Not one of my favourites, but thank you,” he chuckles. “Right,” he snaps his fingers, “much work to do. For both of us.” He shifts back on his sole, “don’t forget what I said, if you need anything, I’m your man.”

He winks and spins on his heel. You watch him go as tension raises your shoulders. That was awkward and painful. You’re already doubting your place in this whole thing. Before you can turn your chair back to your desk, you don’t miss the errant gazes in your direction. You ignore them as best you can but they sear into your back. You have witnesses to your humiliation, great.

[insilanar]

Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!

Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!

Here you go, hope you enjoy <3

Lestappen fic rec

Short-ish fics 🩵

control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k

Summary:

Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k

Summary:

“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k

Summary:

‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k

Summary:

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Rating: General Audiences

<3

Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k

Summary:

Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.

Rating: Explicit

-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌

<3

oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k

Summary:

There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.

Rating: General Audiences

<3

you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k

Summary:

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics above 30 k ❤

Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k

Summary:

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

Rating: Mature

<3

To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k

Summary:

Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.

Rating: Explicit

<3

Favorite lestappen authors 💕

NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity

Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌

And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!

[contentloadinggg]

January Blues - Hozier

Author’s Note: Y’all I finally did it. We’re going to pretend it’s still January so this fits. But it’s finally here 🙏. Thanks to my bestie lunaritessane Who’s input made this fic a whole lot better. I love you💚. (Literally, like their beta reading was just delicious.)

Summary: Andrew is feeling down, you make him feel better. Gender neutral!reader. (3k words)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Smut! Smut turned weirdly poetic sometimes?. Kinda Switch!Andrew, sub vibes at the beginning, soft dom vibes later. Descriptive descriptions of Andrew’s long dick. (I have a problem)

This is a work fiction and is not a reflection of who Hozier is.

Inspired by:

“Well you cured my January Blues, yeah, you made it all alright.”

Fic under the cut💙, 18+ only, you’ve been warned.

The further Ireland dipped into the depths of winter, the more Andrew’s mood dropped. Reflecting the rainy, washed-out climate outside the frosty windows of his house. It hardly even snowed this winter, just a cold rain that somehow made his mood worse. Logically, he knew it was likely that the lack of sun on his already pale skin was what had him wallowing. But alas, no amount of tea and books seemed to make him feel any better. So that’s why he’d given up by this point. Gaze zoned out past the pages of his novel and tea now cold on the coffee table. His mind clouded like the gathering storm outside.

“Andy?”

A gentle call of his name had Andrew startled. Usually he would’ve noticed your presence by the sound of your footsteps, but he’d been too far into his head to notice.

“Yes, darling?”

He asked, the tone of his voice reflecting yours in its quiet manner.

“I’m just wondering if you’re alright? I’ve called your name a few times and you haven’t answered.”

You replied. Despite keeping your voice light, he can tell by the slight frown and the furrow of your eyebrows you’re more concerned than you're letting on. Sighing deeply with resignation, he closes the book with a soft snap and sets it aside. 

“I’m just feeling… I’m not sure. Down, I suppose.”

He answers, voice tainted with melancholy. You look even more concerned. A part of him wishes he didn’t worry you over trivial things. But how could he ever resist your questioning of his well-being?

You walk over to him and sit down on the arm of the chair. Running a hand into the long curls of his hair to scratch at his scalp. He hums and closes his eyes, leaning back into your soothing touch.

“Anything I can do to help?’

You ask and he breathes out through his nose with a shake of his head.

“Not sure there’s much you can do, but… stay?”

Andrew replies, aware his tone sounds dangerously close to needy. But you only smile and nod. Sating any insecurities he has as you continue to massage his scalp. 

He hums contently once more, letting his head rest against your hand. The warm light of the room throws shadows over his face and the pale lines of his neck. Shrouding the valleys in darkness and the highlights with warmth. Turning the sharpness of his cheekbones all the more prominent if that's possible. 

Leaning down, you leave a few kisses over his cheekbones. The feeling of warm breath against his face forces a smile to his lips. He turns his head, capturing your lips against his. Your kiss is like a balm on his apathy, replacing it with passion. Your free hand cups the side of his face. Feeling the gentle scratch of facial hair against your palm that’s also felt on your chin. The feeling lures you closer. Pressing into the space between his and your bodies until you’re straddling one of his legs. Lost in the velvety sensation of lips and tongues against each other. You break it off first. Ignited with one simple idea. 

“Let me make you feel better, yeah?”

You prompt, in a lowered, raspier voice. He looks up at you with blown pupils, green irises dark. Shining hot in the orange light from the lamp. He breathes out. Like he can’t believe you’re real. And nods eagerly.

“Please… do what you’d like.”

His breathless agreement makes you smile and melt a bit, moving his head to get access to his throat. A soft sound leaves his mouth as you kiss over the thin skin. Breath hitching when your tongue follows along the groves of his veins. He’s so goddamn sensitive. He has to hold back a few noises, the heat of your breathing brushing over his neck. Goosebumps appear over his arms. He’s becoming more and more aware of your every move.

Andrew lets out a loud groan that he quickly cuts off in embarrassment. A response to the dragging of your teeth over the base of his neck where it meets his shoulder. The skin beneath your lips flushes a pink color. You snicker in response to the noise, and he huffs in irritation.

“It’s okay, I wanna hear you. I wanna know you’re enjoying it. You sound absolutely gorgeous, but that’s no surprise.”

You murmur to him, rubbing his side to subdue his unease. You know he’s listening because the muscles relax beneath your hand. He lets out another moan as you nibble, turning the skin a pale red.

It’s not long before you’ve scattered similar-looking bites over his neck. By the time you’re getting his sweater off Andrew is breathing a little heavier, sweat building on the back of his flushed neck. 

His chest stutters watching you sink to your knees in front of the armchair. Eyes hooded and darkened.

“Just lie back, baby, and I’ll cure all those blues.”

You direct, and he does as you say. His mouth is too dry to try and come up with a sassy reply to your somewhat cheesy line. Not like that would matter anyway. All thought disappears from his head when your mouth lands on his chest. Kissing, licking, sucking down his sternum. Your lips wrapping around one of his nipples has him debating whether or not to beg for mercy. Airless moans slip from his lips without time nor thought to stop them. 

“Fuckin’ Hell, darling. That’s so good.”

Andrew hisses, voice rough, Irish accent thickened, words a little slurred. His hands running into your hair. Using whatever is there to try and get a grip. Large palms grasping at the back of your skull. He can’t help but pull when you tug on his nipple, forcing a quiet moan from your lips.

“Shit, sorry.”

He apologizes in a way that would sound regretful if it wasn’t husky with arousal. You laugh in response to him jerking under your mouth when you suck softly. Your way of telling him it’s okay. 

After giving Andrew’s nipple a bit more attention, just to hear him whine a few more times. And then start slowly kissing down his stomach. Feeling every little twitch and breath beneath your mouth. 

“Darling, please, please, stop teasing.”

There it is, the pleads for mercy. He’s practically whimpering. His voice becomes tight. A struggle for control. You grant his wish, hands moving to his belt. There’s a large bulge beneath his jeans, straining against the fabric. God, that must be uncomfortable, you can feel the heat from here. 

Eventually, with a bit of moving around, you manage to pull his jeans and boxers off. Freeing his cock from the confines of his clothes. It arches up towards his stomach with a surprising stiffness, considering you haven’t even been touching him for that long. He’s decently above average in length. To the point it burns a little to take, but not ridiculously so. The tip is a deep red, swelled with a desperation to be touched. 

Andrew shoots a hand from your hair to the arm of the chair. Gripping it with a hiss when he feels the brush of your breath over the sensitive skin. His cock twitches, the two prominent veins along the bottom throbbing. You decide not to make him wait any longer. Wrapping a hand around the shaft. Andrew looks down at you with hungry eyes alight with reverence, studying your every move. 

“God- fucking, yes.”

Andrew gasps in pleasured relief, a moan quickly following when you start stroking the length of his shaft, giving every inch an equal amount of attention. Just barely touching the tip to tease him. To watch his cravings become unbearable. At first, he accepts the simple touch, relishing in finally having friction on his cock. However, it soon becomes too little and he starts rocking his hips into your hand, eager for more. Slender thighs flexing with the movement. Light shining over his jutting hip bones. He’s absolutely stunning from this angle, chest heaving as he squirms. A thin sheen of sweat glistening over the bridge of his nose and high cheekbones. A stark contrast to the darkness of his neatly trimmed beard. 

“Babe-”

Andrew starts, his words sounding more like a gasp of breath. 

“Fine, I’ll be nice.” 

You relent, not wanting to torture him too much. Dragging your hand over the weeping head, Andrew moans and sinks his fingernails into the arm of the chair. His other hand cupping the back of your neck, trying his best not to grip or pull. You circle your thumb around the very tip of his cock, over the most sensitive glands. Andrew practically whimpers because of it. Legs jerking, he throws his head back. Eyes squeezed shut. Showing off all those pink love bites you left over his throat.

“Yes, just like that. Keep going.”

Andrew manages in that sweet, unsteady voice. It’s like he can’t get enough air into his lungs, caught between moaning and whining. He thrusts his hips into your hand which moves up and down the entire length of his dick. A focused attention with a twist of your wrist over the head. Andrew isn’t the only one getting impatient. You’re interested in doing much more than just a handjob. 

So, when your impatience gets to be too much, you duck your head and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. Causing a high-pitched noise of surprise from the man above. There’s an even sharper noise as you press your tongue against the bottom and suck. Pulling precum from his eagerness. The tangy and sharp taste coating your tastebuds, sticking to your tongue. It fills your senses, nearly overwhelming the musky scent of Andrew’s arousal. 

“Let me see your eyes, please. Look at me.”

Andrew urges, his voice higher than normal. Looking up at him, his eyes meet yours. And he responds like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. His lips parted, looking down at you with warmth in his eyes. His entire dick throbbing with your gaze on his. 

“God, you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.”

He gasps out. His hand letting go of the armchair and brushing the hair away from your face. So he can see all of you properly. 

“So, so pretty down there.”

Andrew continues in a murmur, the pleasure of seeing you drives his ecstasy even higher. He gently moves slightly further into your mouth, hungry for more of the warm pleasure, more than what your hand is giving him. You welcome him, slowly working his cock deeper into your mouth. Jaw stretching to accommodate until it nearly aches. Your tongue cradles the underside. 

He moans lowly, running fingers over your scalp. The warm and wet feeling of your mouth wrapping around his cock causes his entire body to shiver. Pleasure bolting up his spine. He nearly becomes lightheaded with the rush of blood, cheeks flushing a bright red against the paleness of the rest of his skin. 

The more you take, the more difficult it is to breathe. Andrew stops you for a moment,  letting you take a breath. He caresses your jaw with the backs of his fingers, helping it relax out. 

“Just go slow, breathe through your nose.”

He speaks in a calmly commanding voice. Forcing you to stay in your moment of pause for a few seconds longer before letting you continue. You follow his introductions and breathe through your nose, taking measured breaths as you sink further. Until tears gather in your eyes when the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Pushing at your gag reflex. 

A pleasured rumble sounds in Andrew’s chest. Vibrating back through your bones. He continues stroking your jaw, making sure you can take every inch.  

“That’s good. You’re doing so well, baby. Start moving if you want.”

Andrew says, trying his best to keep his composure so his desire doesn’t get the better of him. It nearly does when you start moving achingly slow up and down the length of his dick. Your mouth is so consumingly tempting, hot and wet and just perfect. Both a gift and a curse. Luring Andrew to near madness with how good it feels. He’s speechless, wordless. Stuck in this version of heaven. You’ve got him absolutely hooked. Even more so when you start to move faster. Suck harder. Letting saliva drip down your chin and glisten on your skin the way it does on his cock.  

“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this. Your so skilled, so absolutely, fucking wonderful.”

He groans behind his clenched teeth. Resisting the urge to bury himself even deeper into your mouth. You struggle to move faster. Gagging on his cock when it hits your reflex. Andrew looks down at you, noticing your struggle. He gently pulls on your hair. Guiding you off his cock.

“It’s alright, let me help you, okay?”

He asks, but it’s less of a suggestion and more of a command if you want to keep going. You nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Andrew takes a careful hold of your hair, holding your head in place as he brings his hips closer to your mouth. The tip of his cock brushes your lips, it’s so red it’s almost purple. Eager and more than ready to slip back into your mouth.

“Ready?”

He asks one more time and you answer affirmatively again. He accepts this and nudges his dick slowly past your parted lips. Guiding himself back into the heat of your mouth. It’s wet, soft and very, very hot. He waits a moment for you to get used to it once more. Before starting to move. Using your hair to move you up and down. His hips rocking forwards into your mouth. His breath hitching as he feels your teeth gaze him. His thighs clasp either side of your head, knees almost on top of your shoulders.

“That’s it, let me help you. Just like this.”

Andrew praises in a tone that does nothing to conceal how good it feels. Carefully thrusting his cock in and out of your already sore throat. You’re so sweet, letting him do this. Willing to take apart every piece of him and put it back together. It’s something only you can do for him. Yet he’s sure you could do it for anyone. 

“God, that’s just right. You’re doing such a good job. You’re an angel.”

He manages, voice trembling. He rocks his hips faster. Guiding you to suck harder. Feeling every ridge moving back and forth across your tongue. The head is just barely nudging the back of your throat. Andrew is gasping, moaning above you like he’s never experienced something quite so amazing in his life. Something beyond any man’s wildest dreams.

His cock twitches in your mouth. His ecstasy reaching higher and higher. To the point his thighs are trembling, skin highlighted pink with exertion (is that how you spell it? idk). You look up at him. Admiring the way his features are painted with pleasure. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut. His long hair is messy and falling into his flushed face. There’s strands sticking to the sides of his face and neck with the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Droplets slide down his collarbones and disappear into his sweater. 

He jerks his cock a little deeper on accident. Coming closer and closer to his finish. Causing you to gag. He opens his eyes with an apology on his lip. But you grasp his hips, pulling him closer. You shove down your gag reflex so you can take him all the way. Tears gathering on your waterline. He takes the hint with widened eyes of surprise and adoration. Carefully thrusting his cock into the depths of your throat, he groans loudly with pleasure. Both hands sinking into and grabbing on your hair. 

Your nose brushes his pelvis. The smell of musk filling your nose. An almost sweet, earthy scent coming from him. You make eye contact through blurry eyes. Andrew’s breath stutters, his legs tensing by the sides of your head. 

“Fuck- darling, so good. I’m gonna- shit. I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Do you want that? Do you want me to cum into your mouth?”

He asks, his words broken and stuttering. Almost failing at forming a sentence entirely. You nod the best you can. Tears and spit running down your face. He moans at your agreement. Somehow feeling hotter and even more aroused by it. 

Andrew thrusts his hips into your mouth. Pushing how much you can take as he chases his high. It’s not more than a minute of nearly reckless movements before he’s cumming into your mouth just as he said he would. His back arching into it as his legs shudder. He moans loudly from the bottom of his chest. His mouth hanging open. Head thrown back with his eyes rolled back into his skull. Shooting warm, thick cum into your mouth. The salty and bitter taste overwhelming your senses, but one you could taste over and over again. You groan around his cock. Causing his legs to jump as he feels the vibrations. 

He pants, remaining motionless in his recovery. His brain needed a moment to recover before piecing itself back together and pulling out of your mouth. There’s a lopsided, still half-gone smile on his face as he looks down at you. Humming happily as you swallow his cum. 

“You’re so amazing, baby.”

Andrew compliments breathlessly. Moving his hands to cup your cheeks and brush the tears away.

“I’m so, so proud of you. Come on, get off your knees.”

The tenderness of his voice is so beautiful. His actions even more so, helping you up off the floor. And positioning you on one of his thighs. 

“Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough with you?” 

He questions, his worries calming when you shake your head. Still recovering yourself.

“Good… can I return the favor?”

Thank you so much for reading my first fic 🫶, any constructive criticism is appreciated. I’m going to go do the school work I’ve been procrastinating over to do this instead now. Hopefully, the next fic won’t take over a month to write and I’ll be more active.

-Thad 💚

[bits-and-babs]

⋆ 𝐏𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃

Dark!Commander Mills x f!Reader

word count: 3.7K

warnings: 18+ MDNI, Dead Dove Do Not Eat; this fic may be unsettling for some readers. Dark!Mills, Chasing Predator/Prey, fear, tense scenes. DubCon [Non-Con Themes?]. Mentions of body hair, Size Difference/Size Kink. Pussy slapping, unprotected p in v sex, tummy bulge, claiming, cream pie

➛ mills masterlist I| main masterlist |I send an ask I| taglist

Jagged bark digs into the skin of your back through the thin, soft cotton fabric of your shirt. You feel the amber tree sap seep into the canvas, sticking uncomfortably to your back and clinging to you as you try to ease your hyperventilation. The cells of your lungs vibrate with alarm, stinging as you suck in mouthfuls of oxygen.

Get away.

The sunshine thrashes you, your skin slick with the sweat that rolls down your temples. Heat ebbs at the edges of your mind, teasing you with the promise of unconsciousness. Rest. It urges you to let your knees slump, to ease your aching body down to the forest floor and close your eyes for a moment– you can’t. You can’t be certain how far ahead you were or how much of a head-start he had conceded.

It had been freezing when you awoke, the cold biting your skin raw even as it thawed. A low hum deafened your ears, subconscious tears frosting your coarse eyelash hairs together and forcing your lids shut. Panicked, you had pushed the heels of your palms to your eyes in an attempt to melt the frosty glue, feeling something slippy and thick smear across the skin of your cheekbone.

The metal tang to the scent that pierced your nostrils indicated you were bleeding, pain leaping forward in your skull and forcing your eyes open in your discomfort. Like a mallet smashed over your head, the sounds of your surroundings cracked through your ear drums. A deafening siren screamed, blurring your vision with the intensity of its volume. Glass tinkled against the metal shell of the cryogenic chamber as you’d wearily pushed yourself from the leather seat you had called home for an estimated double solar-cycle. Your limbs were stiff, unused and preserved in ice for twenty-four months.

Green flooded your vision as you rose to your feet, a flashing light on the data pad of your chamber indicating your apparent survival following defrost. You’d been thankful to see your vitals displayed across the screen– you had felt so awful upon waking that you were almost certain you had died.

Relief that had flooded your veins curdled into distress when the data pad beeped, a cursor swiping across the pixels to dismiss the notification of your stirring.

You hadn’t given the scene much notice from then, jittery fear shuddering over your skin and forcing your feet forward. The ship that had meant to deliver you to Somaris was nowhere in sight, but debris pieces of the vessel had lay strewn across the forest floor. Orange embers still glowed within the metal of some large slabs of metal.

The realisation had been slow to arrive, the throbbing remnants of a concussion sweeping nausea throughout your body as you stumbled over the fallen trees. The piercing ring of the alarm continues to circle your agitated mind, tormenting you with the sinking reality of your plight. Stranded on a planet far beyond the solar system you had come from, surrounded by alien creatures you hadn’t seen stored in information holo-pads and without a ship to re-enter orbit– all while attempting to avoid the person who you had no doubt was hot on your heels.

Initially, you had assumed that the scaly, lizard-like animals were causing the snapping of the twigs in the thick treeline of the forest. While some were humongous, you noticed some were of a smaller size. Even the creatures that reached your hips posed a significant enough threat for you to avoid them by ducking behind tree trunks and bushes, their sharp teeth dripping with saliva when they caught your scent.

Whipping around at the sound of another ‘crunch’, you’d caught sight of him. Long, ebony hair fell in strands in front of his face; his brows pinched together in a stalker's concentration. His lips set in a grim, thin line, recharge-blaster aimed directly at your calves. The amber sap that had coated your skin from the trees appeared to have drenched his eyes, irises burning a bright honey colour in the brutal sunshine.

You hadn’t stopped running since, chest heaving as the cells of your lungs screamed at the intensity of your pace. The thick fabric of your flight suit, coated in leather around the collar, was heavy to carry, your legs aching as you’d lept over each of the fallen trunks in your way.

Shuddering at the memory of the hours you have spent evading capture, you inhale shakily in an attempt to ease your thumping heart. It threatens to crack your sternum, bludgeoning the bone with its rapid pace. Even though you’d stopped for some time, dread kept your heartbeat thrumming like the wings of the birds on your home planet, your blood rushing in your ears and drowning out the squawks of the flying lizards, their beaks long and sharp, wings leathery with clawed hands at the joint.

A stream trickles nearby, the running water rippling around the surrounding rocks. The breeze is cool against your face, tickling your cheekbones in a soft kiss. Despite the rustling of the leaves, the babble of the small brook, and the distant hiss of the hot spring geysers, it’s utterly quiet.

Foreboding chills you to the bone, wringing you dry.

It feels off, this delicate balance of stillness. Trepidation crawls up the vertebrae of your spine and prickles your skin with goosebumps. There’s an ambience; thick with something sinister. It coats your surroundings and lingers in the air like unsparked lighting, threatening to pounce.

Your hair stands on end, blood freezing along with the beat of your heart when you hear it; the zooming charge of a blaster.

“You can’t run from me forever.” It’s delivered with an alarming deadpan, his even voice ricocheting off the tree line. You can’t tell where he is like this, your neck reeling on its shoulders as you frantically search the area.

Darting your eyes amongst the bushes, you spot him- his footsteps cautious as he picks each footfall carefully. He’s learnt from his previous mistake, ensuring not to reveal his position with a snapping twig.

You swallow back a whimper, skirting around the trunk of the tree. Palm pressed to your nose and mouth; you hear your trembling breaths as you attempt to smother them. It’s terrifying, the level of noise you make. You’re certain your pulse gives away your hiding spot- that the vibration of the very cells of your being is connected to an amplifier and blasting through the woodlands.

In contrast, your pursuer is almost silent, barely making a sound as he picks through the undergrowth. You wonder how it’s possible for such a large man to make so little noise. He’s so careful, so silent that you pause your breath to listen for him better. Where-?

“Sweet Thing…” you hear him coo, a slight taunt to his voice that makes your nails dig into the tree's bark. Your lungs threaten to scream, ankles promising to buckle beneath the suffocating pressure.

Crouching as low as you can onto the balls of your feet, you attempt to shuffle around the trunk's circumference. You’re careful to test each footstep, feeling for fragile foliage beneath the sole of your shoe before setting it on the floor. You swallow thickly, wincing as the dried leaves rustle quietly.

It’s as though time momentarily stops. The rubber of your heel catches on the roots of the tree, slipping down the curved surface and sending your foot crashing through the sun-baked foliage with a sickening ‘crunch.’

Oh.

Tensing up all at once, your muscles pinch with fear. You fail to suppress the heaving breaths that rattle through you now, sucking in mouthfuls of oxygen and wheezing in terror when you exhale.

“Hmm,” a hum sounds to your left, loud to your ears. You bristle, the seams of your person screaming that you need to move, to run. Instead, you stay rooted to the spot, fight or flight bested by the primal instinct to be still. To hide. The atmosphere shifts, the chill of the breeze twisting to an icy disquiet.

Don’t. Don’t move, be still. If you’re still, he won-

They crawl across the curve of your jaw at first, fingertips creeping along the line of the bone before gently grasping your chin. White hot fear holds you perfectly still as his thumb pushes into the soft flesh of your cheek, the scrape of his knuckles biting into your skin as they purse your lips together. With your feeble attempt to shake him, his grip turns solid.

“Got you.”

His gruff voice rasps against the shell of your ear, lips brushing the thin skin and raising goose pimples across your neck and down your spine. Breath caught in your throat, you barely manage a whimper of response– the sound cracks in your vocal cords and sounds more like a startled exhale.

Your resolve fractures into tiny shards as he uses the grip on your chin to tilt your head backwards. Tension cracks between your shoulder blades at the awkward angle, your muscles straining as he pulls them taut. There’s a tensity at your throat, too, the thew connecting your jaw and neck almost pained by the extreme flex.

Amber. The thin strips of gold lay stark against the pitch black of his dilated pupils, irises merely a slither as the abyss swallows them whole. An eagerness paints his expression, even as his thick, dark brows pinch together in concentration. The hulking frame of your hunter stands above you, neck practically folded over to stare down at your kneeling form. He’s scanning your face, assessing each aspect of your visage and taking in the details. The paw grasping at your face tilts it left and right as he searches for… something.

Again, you wail as you feel his thumbprint dig into the soft flesh of your cheek. It braces against the edge of your molars, prints embedding– branding itself into the skin beneath it.

“Shh-Shh,” He hushes you softly, voice somewhat soothing now as he sweeps his knuckles across your temple and over your cheekbone. “Quite the hunt. Chased you all over, 70652. ”

The five digits of your passenger number ring through your eardrums like the alarms that had alerted you to your crash landing. It flits across his expression, a smug, mocking look as the realisation strikes you between your ribs like a wet blade—the pilot. Commander Mills, you had been told before cryostasis, was a skilled enough aeronaut to deliver you safely to the destination of Somaris. It appeared he had failed his mission.

“I- I don’t-”

“Everyone in the cryo-bay is dead,” he speaks over you, matter-of-fact in his unwavering tone. Your eyelashes flutter closed, confident Mills can feel your pulse pump blood through your veins as he trails his fingertips down your jugular. It tingles, the feather-light touch, adrenaline rushing over your body in surging waves. “It’s just us.”

“Hngg-” you mewl as he crouches behind you, dragging his lips gently across your pulse point as he breathes you in- the scent of your evasion. Soil coats you in an earthy smell, the metallic tang of blood from the scrapes of the thorny undergrowth. Mills groans against your jugular, scraping his sharp incisors over the thrum of your heart while savouring you.

“Aren’t you lucky?” He whispers, gravelly voice barely registering at this volume. Mill’s hand slips down your throat, calloused fingertips tracing down your central points. Your throat, your sternum between your breasts. The deliberate trail has your breath quickening, an underlying threat of danger making the hairs on your arms stand on end. “Lucky that I found you before those creatures did? Hmm?”

The delicate intonation of his question is deceptive. He’s not being kind- he’s mocking you. Still, the enamel of his teeth sinking into the concave connecting your neck and shoulder has you crying out, wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Mhm,” he lathes his tongue over the indents his teeth leave behind, splaying his fingers wide as he trails his palm over your stomach. Need unfurls beneath the weight of his hand, twisting and coating your abdomen when his fingers dip just beneath the waistband of the joggers you had been provided before entering cryostasis. “This... Is thanks enough.”

Heat creeps across the apples of your cheeks as you feel his hand slip further into your pants and wedge beneath your panties. You can do nothing but turn your hot face away from him, squeezing your eyes shut when his fingers brush through the thatch of curls across the curve of your pussy. Mills hums softly, your only warning before he’s sliding the pad of his finger through your slick cunt.

“Shit,” he grunts softly, the tip of his nose trailing up the length of your jugular. “So wet for me already.”

Sinews in your jaw ache at the force with which you clench your jaw, trying desperately to swallow down the moans that threaten to bubble up from your throat. Mills is circling his fingertip just barely over your clit now, the delicate touch coiling a throbbing heat between your thighs.

It’s a subconscious response, one that bypasses your brain and jolts your hips forward onto his hand. You don’t mean to, your fingers sinking into the soil beneath you as your body tenses. It sends a bright, hot arc of pleasure through your body and you wail raggedly, the short-lived friction enough to blur your vision.

Mills leaps.

Ripping his hand from your pants, he grabs ahold of your waist in a bruising grip, flipping you over onto your back harshly. It’s so fast, the world careening sideways. When you land it almost winds you, your spine hitting the ground with a thud. Twigs and rocks dig into your flesh, but Mills gives you no real opportunity to complain when he pins your body down with the hulking weight of his own.

Urgency spurs Mills on, pushing his fingers under the waistband of both your joggers and your panties before yanking them down your thighs. He doesn’t bother to remove them, abandoning them over your shins. They bunch around your ankles, movements restricted by the fabric. Your body is trembling, buzzing with something far from the fear he had originally inspired in you.

Mills is huge. Broad and muscular, when he leans his body over yours he almost blocks your whole line of sight. His muscles shadow through the thin fabric of his shirt, sweat causing the material to cling to his damp flesh. The chase across the forest seemed to have had little effect on his athletic frame, the exhaustion that had afflicted you unapparent when he pushes your knees back against your chest.

“Just look at you. Trembling. Panting. It’s gorgeous.” Subtle cruelty drips from his tongue when he praises you, watching your nipples harden as your folds are exposed to the cool air. Honey irises drag over your sopping cunt, greedily lapping up the view. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, so exposed to a stranger you had been running for in fear of your life just moments before.

“Please,” you beg, pathetic sobs cracking in your throat at the desperation to be touched.

“You’re in no place to be directing me, Sweet Thing.”

Despite his apparent refusal, Mills is pushing the trousers of his flight suit past his hips to expose his cock. Again, he refuses to waste time in removing them entirely, removing just enough to ease himself out of the confines of the material. You only catch a glimpse of his cock before he hoists your thighs over his pelvis, but your heart seizes at the sight– an angry, red tip leaks precum that smears across the inside of your thighs, veins protruding across the large shaft. You can’t fit tha-

God, he pushes the pad of his thumb into your clit and you yelp, seeing stars. A steady, wicked throb of bliss pulses through you as he applies pressure to the bundle of nerves, swiping his print back and forth. It’s overwhelming, and you can’t help the way your hips jolt as you feel him attempt to breach your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Stop moving,” Mills orders, hand wrapped around his dick as he sweeps through your folds. You’re sobbing now, tears welling in your eyes as he continues to abuse your swollen clit. He slips again, dark eyes flicking up to your face when your hips jolt upwards to chase his touch, the build of your impending orgasm catching you off guard with how quickly it seems to blossom. The third time, when the tip of his dick notches the inside of your thigh rather than taking root, his patience snaps.

Mills suddenly draws back from you, removing his hand from your clit before bringing his open palm down on your throbbing cunt with a brutal slap. Pain bows through you, blending seamlessly with your bliss and causes a sharp, high pitched cry of his name to tumble from your lungs. In your shock, your hips momentarily still. Taking advantage of your dazed state, Mills quickly lines his pulsing cock against your cunt and drives home, swiftly ramming into you with an abrupt snap of his hips.

A haggard gasp rips through your throat at the sudden intrusion, the painful stretch of his cock cracking through you and making your eyes roll back. Dirt cakes under your fingernails as you grasp feebly at the damp soil, trying and failing to find any kind of purchase to ground yourself.

“Take it,” Mills orders, his gruff voice impossibly reaching lower octaves as he pushes his length further into you. He sits back slightly, his eyes almost pitch black with how his pupils swallow them up as they settle on your cunt. Fascinated, he watches your lips stretch around his girth and paint his protruding veins with your slick. “Make it fit— Shit!”

His crude growl scrapes your eardrums as he bottoms out inside of you, hips flush with your own. You can’t breathe, feeling as though he’s big enough to settle amongst your lungs. You heave shallow breaths, your head pulsing with mind-numbing dizziness.

Then he’s moving. He drives forward at first, reaching depths inside you that make your abdomen ache before pulling out of you. The stark emptiness he leaves you with is short-lived, thrusting forward and stealing what little oxygen you had swallowed down.

Heat simmers through you with each shred of the head of his cock against something blinding inside of you. It gives you no room to think, to move, the cruel pace Mills sets. It’s merciless, pummelling into you and driving you up across the forest floor. “Fuuuuck, that’s good,” Mills groans loudly, holding on tight to your hips to prevent you from sliding away from him. You sob brokenly, hitting his chest with the heel of your palm as you struggle against the orgasm that’s practically hurtling towards you. Christ, his dick is so hard, ramming through you and pushing up against your cervix and causing a delightful ache.

The wet sounds of him thrusting into you are obscene, slick and desperate as he begins to pull you down onto the snaps of his hips. Fat tears stream down your cheeks, collecting in your hairline as you sob his name over and over.

“Look at you,” Mills practically snarls, eyes set on the bulge in your lower abdomen and in awe of what he finds there. Fuck fuck fuck. You can see him, see the outline of his cock driving in and out of you through your abdomen. “Mine.”

Through your haze, you feel Mills press his giant palm against your abdomen, feeling himself twitch and thrust inside of you. His forehead drops against your shoulder, hips beginning to stutter as your walls flutter around him.

It’s overwhelming; the intense pace, the brutality of his thrusts, the way your clit brushes against the pubic hairs on his lower pelvis. You sound fucking wrecked, wails spluttering with each devastating rock of his hips.

“Aha-ah- ohfuck,” you babble, eyes rolling back as your body curls inwards. You’re burning, tightening, your orgasm creeping across the pit of your stomach. “I-I’m gonna-“

Mills groans loudly, and your back arches suddenly when he bites into your collarbone. His teeth sink into your flesh, hard enough to draw blood, and the pain shoves you right over the ledge you’d been dancing over. You cum with a scream of his name, clamping down around his cock as ecstasy surges through you from head to toe. Your vision blurs, hearing cuts out.

“Shit,” you hear him spit distantly, despite the close proximity to your ears. Mills’ hips push up deep inside of you, his body lurching and trembling as he cums inside of you. It feels, even in your altered state of consciousness, like it takes forever. Milking him endlessly, his breath shuddering against the wound on your clavicle as he gently grinds into you to ease himself down from the high.

There’s no movement, no sudden release of your body and flopping to the side. Mills stays stuffed within you, your mixed cum dribbling down the inside of your thighs as he squeezes the flesh of your hips with his palms.

Your sobs of his name had been loud, noisy enough to draw in all kinds of lizard creatures, but Mills seems insistent on remaining like this, scraping his teeth across the curve of your shoulder and beginning to rock into your swollen cunt again.

“There’s a few hours before nightfall,” he talks over your garbled string of noises, overstimulated and exhausted from the hours of running and the brutal way he had fucked into you. “You can take me again before then, can’t you, Sweet Thing? Before we head back to the ship?”

Your body resigns to his question, already far too wearied and submissive to argue what feels more like an order than a question— besides, bliss is already pooling in between your thighs when he pinches your clit with the pads of his forefinger and thumb.

“Good Girl.”

END

Join the Tag List Misc Character Taglist: @glassbxttless, @peachyproserpina, @pansa-1-san @htccu7gho9

Gif belongs to @zachsnydered

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[3.42]

― pairing : Yunho x Fem! Reader ― genre : fluff + smut ― content warnings: grease! au - therefore it's the 50's, Yunho smokes weed and has a motorbike, mentions of a car accident but it’s superficial and no one of the main characters is involved, thigh riding, unprotected sex, idk how to describe it?? acrobatic sex??? idk you’ll read it, kinkshaming will not be allowed, inspo for that came from an italian song' MV ― word count : 7.830

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

«I swear, if I hear that song another time, I’m gonna scream bloody murder.» you addressed your colleague with an annoyed groan as you both were busy cleaning one of the now empty tables of the Frosty Palace, the local diner where you worked. She sighed in silent agreement, both of you wondering why your boss decided to let customers choose what to play from the jukebox even during Saturday nights, when the diner was really busy and crowded with people.

«Here comes trouble,» she announced with an amused smile on her face, as she took the plates you were busy balancing on your forearm, before nodding towards a group of guys which just arrived, busy taking their seats. «they’re all yours.» she chanted, quickly leading back into the kitchen with an amused smile.

«That traitor.» you mumbled, before taking your small notebook from your apron’s pocket and taking a deep sigh. Of course you perfectly knew the loud group that just arrived, since you’ve had a crush on Seonghwa since you could remember. His dark and mysterious aura always charmed you, and you could not help but to grow interested in him. 

However, your mother’s advice not to get involved with bad guys always resonated in your head anytime you caught a glimpse of them and their leather jacket or motorbikes, and therefore, you’ve never tried to approach any of them beside work related matters. Their table was incredibly loud but also incredibly polite to you, and if you were to be honest, they probably were the best and most polite customers of the entire evening. Your only interaction with Seonghwa consisted of your eyes briefly meeting, before eventually, you went back to your previous working hurried pace. Low-key, you were glad that you couldn’t stay at their table for more than the essential time needed to take their orders, because you knew that you probably looked like a mess: you’ve been working for nine hours straight, your hair was a mess – even if tied up in a ponytail, and you were sure you had bags under your eyes due to how tired you were. You just wanted to go home and sleep.

«Are you coming to Jisung’s party?» your colleague – and friend, asked you, handing you a glass of water as you were both spending your first shift break leaning against the counter – few steps away from Seonghwa’s table. You quickly hummed, shaking your head while swallowing the water, silently wondering if that was how god’s nectar tasted like. 

«When is it? I’ll probably have to work.» you asked her, unaware that your small talk had caught the attention of both the boy you had a crush on and one of his friends’.

«Next Friday!» she enthusiastically said, her eyes glancing at the diner’s entrance door every now and then in order to check up if some new customers arrived, while yours kept glancing across the room, to see if anyone needed anything else. «Please, come with me! I promise I’ll cover your shifts anytime you want!» she quickly added, as if she managed to read in your mind the fact that you were once again about to say no. 

Perhaps, you agreed because you were extremely tired. Perhaps, you agreed because as your eyes were quickly scanning the room, you shortly locked your gaze with the boy with faded pink hair that was casually sitting next to Seonghwa, with his back leaned against the wall and his black leather jacket draped over his wide shoulders as he uninterestedly rolled a cigarette while occasionally glancing at you. 

«Don’t look at their table, but,» you lowered the tone of your voice, getting closer to your friend and pretending she had something in her hair. «who’s the one sitting next to Seonghwa?» «Yunho.» she immediately whispered back, without blinking or thinking about it. Then, with a surprised gasp, she simply stared at you with wide amused eyes and her mouth slightly open, the sudden action making you giggle. «I can’t believe you’re not asking about Seonghwa!» she whispered, and just like that, new customers arrived and both of you went immediately back to work.

Seonghwa and his friends left around midnight, and as you were cleaning their table, the bright green bill neatly placed under Yunho’s coaster caught your attention; your eyes widened slightly and you immediately looked around just in case it was a joke, but nothing seemed out of place. You folded the banknote, placing it in your apron’s pocket, and as you were collecting the dishes, you saw Seonghwa and his friends talking right outside the diner’s windows, illuminated by the street lamps.

Surprisingly enough, instead of focusing on Seonghwa, your eyes were curiously looking at Yunho, the tall boy that earlier was looking at you; he was quietly chuckling at something his friends said while casually sitting on top of his motorbike, the cigarette he previously rolled was carefully balanced between his lips as he looked for a lighter in his leather jacket’s right pocket. You felt strangely hypnotized by the small action of him lighting up his cigarette before blowing out a puff of smoke while his head was thrown back, but you quickly snapped out of it as soon as one of your colleagues called your name, asking for help.

The walk back home was quick and mostly made by inertia, due to how tired you were feeling; you mindlessly unlocked the door and closed it with a yawn, before taking off your shoes and collapsing on the couch – since your bed was too far away. «Come on,» you weakly encouraged yourself, trying to ignore the numb feeling of exhaustion spreading from your legs all the way to your body. «take a shower and then go to sleep.» you mumbled, «In five minutes…» you were about to drift off, when Yunho’s piercing gaze flashed behind your closed eyelids; your eyes snapped open, and you immediately reached in the back pocked of your jeans, taking out the 10 bucks tip.

A small smile unexpectedly made way on your lips, wondering if he left the tip because he saw you working your ass off or because he had other reasons to do so.  Funny how a banknote helped waking you up, but you placed it on the coffee table in front of your couch, and headed towards the shower. 

Of course, your colleague knew about your crush on Seonghwa and of course, she wouldn’t shut up about Yunho for the most part of the week. 

«I can’t blame you,» she said, cleaning the counter as you were about to close the diner. «He’s hot. And he seems so strong, I bet he can fuck you against-» your colleague’s – and friend, words were immediately stopped by your hand on her mouth, reducing the remaining of her sentence into an inaudible mess of muffled words. 

«Not a word, or I won’t come to the party.» you said, blushing about the intrusive thoughts that thanks to her, were now vivid and oh, so realistic in your head. 

«Are you a virgin?» she whispered, even if no one else beside the two of you were in there; you shook your head, explaining her that beside your first boyfriend in high school, you’ve never had any other experience, nor romantically, nor sexually. 

«I just completely focused on studying, and now here I am: the best waitress in town.» you joked with a sad smile, mentally going through all the future life plans you had which you eventually had to reconsider, and she immediately let go of the glass she was cleaning in order to walk towards you.

«Come on!» she cooed, «It’s the 50’s, love. Fall in love, live a little.» she smiled, her slim arms snaking around your waist. 

«It’s not like-» as you were about to retort that you weren’t that interested in romance since all you managed to have crushes on were obviously bad boys who carried a concerning amount of red flags everywhere they went, she was quick to silence you, once again.

«I bet we’re gonna have fun, trust me, I’m the expert here.» she winked at you, and you nodded with an amused, exasperated sigh.

Jisung’s party was chaotic, and you deduced that it couldn’t be otherwise since he was the most popular and richest kid in town; he spent the evening next to his girlfriend, and you wondered if you would ever be as lucky as her since, judging by Jisung’s looks, he seemed pretty much head over heels for her.

An elbow delicately nudging against yours quickly made you turn your attention back to your friend, which had her head tilted towards the backdoor and she was pointing towards it with her eyes; she looked quite funny, but as soon as you saw what she was desperately trying to point at, you felt your knees go weak.

Seonghwa was standing with his friends, looking as good as always but once again, you felt your eyes naturally drift towards Yunho’s figure, casually leaning against the wall with a red plastic cup probably filled with punch as he was talking with one of his friends – a little shorter with raven black hair. You honestly tried to prevent your eyes from scanning his body from his chest, to his long legs - which looked sinful in high waisted skinny jeans, and as your gazes met, you quickly looked away as quickly as a wild flame has just burnt you. You felt a blush creeping on your cheeks, your heart picking up speed in embarrassment by the fact that Yunho had basically caught you ogling at him, but also secretly turned on by the sudden smirk that he had plastered on his face.

From there, the night went by rather quickly. Surprisingly enough, you managed to have fun, even if it was probably thanks to the few cups of alcohol you drank during the night; you were tipsy – drunk enough to laugh about almost everything but sober enough to still stand without falling on your face, and so that’s how you found yourself in Jisung’s wide garden, sitting next to your friend, listening to two random boys blabbering and flirting with the two of you.

Despite the fact that you were sitting in front of your friend’s crush with the promise of somehow help her out, you never tried to hide the fact that you were absolutely uninterested in his friend’s obnoxious advances, and your eyes kept glancing at Yunho, which much to your shame, caught you the most of times.

Yunho was incredibly beautiful, and he absolutely had no reason to affect you like that; especially, he had absolutely no reason to look so hot as his lips closed on the filter of the joint that him and his friends were passing around. As they were laughing together, you figured that you probably would have wanted to try it, too.

«It’s your turn.» the boy in front of you said, and your eyes immediately fell on the joint that he was carefully handing to you, the filter pointed towards you and the smell of weed invading your nostrils. You politely shook your head, refusing the offer, aware that there was only one particular person that you wanted to try smoking weed with.

You knew Yunho was approaching you, even if you were not looking at him anymore. You could feel his gaze on you since the moment you excused yourself from the conversation you were having with your friend, and all you could feel was anticipation. If you were to be honest, you didn’t do it in order to get his attention – not entirely, but you really needed a break from hearing your friend and her crush flirting with each other and his friend obnoxiously trying his luck with you; so this is why you walked past Yunho and his friends heading to the backyard, where a significant less number of people were chatting.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes, your back and your head delicately pressed against the wall as you waited; you waited both for your incoming headache not to ruin the little party time you had left, and both for something – anything, to happen right before you had to go back home. Your silent wishes must have been heard from some kind of celestial entity, since few minutes later, Yunho was casually standing in front of you, one hand placed on the wall next to your head, and the other still holding what remained of the joint that him and his friends were previously smoking.

«You’re not very subtle at stealing glances.» Yunho smirked, and you felt your knees go weak since it was the first time you were hearing his voice, and you definitely didn’t expect for it to be so deep and melodic.

«Maybe I didn’t want to be.» you answered, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, and the alcohol mixed to the weed you breathed made you act a little bolder than you really were. Yunho’s smirk was all you could think about, the cologne he wore still managed to intoxicate your senses even if he was holding a joint between your bodies; everything you wanted was to kiss him, to feel his skin against yours even if deep down, you knew that boys like him inevitably lead to a heartbreak. Yunho looked like everything you were not, and at the same time, he looked like everything you wanted.

«So, angel face,» Yunho said, his voice a little bit deeper than before, he slowly raised the joint’s filter few centimetres in front of your lips, while his eyes hungrily and repeatedly glanced from your eyes to your lips, «do you want to try this,» he added, nodding to the joint before leaning a bit closer, so that your noses were almost touching and you could feel his soft breath against your skin as he spoke, «or do you want to try me?» your breath hitched at that final question and Yunho probably noticed but, being the gentleman he actually is, he settled for not saying anything and just wait for your answer, a smug smirk plastered on his lips as he made you feel almost naked under his gaze; you had to restrain yourself in order not to grab his leather jacket and close the small distance between you, and you wondered what was wrong with you.

“Am I really that drunk or am I just incredibly horny?” you thought, licking your lips and feeling almost suffocated by the tension that was surrounding both your bodies as the two of you were in your own small bubble.

«Mommy said boys like you are bad news.» you answered with a quiet mumble, knowing he would have heard nonetheless, thanks to the almost non-existent space between you.

«Oh, really?» Yunho cooed, tilting his head, action that you slightly mirrored in the opposite direction while waiting – hoping, for him to kiss you. «Why don’t you find out if that’s the truth?»  you were about to kiss him, you desperately wanted to kiss him, to feel his lips against yours and for him to completely push you against the wall while making out and feel his body pressed flush against yours but of course, your friend had to unintentionally ruin the moment by calling for you, but despite your name being called, neither you nor Yunho looked away.

Yunho grabbed your chin in his hand in a gentle but firm action, the filter of the cigarette pressing against your cheek, and you swore your heart was about to climb its way out of your body as Yunho hinted the action of bringing your face closer to his, but eventually stopped as your lips were few millimetres apart.

«Feel free to come looking for me, when you have an answer.» he mumbled, and you were sure that your lips brushed against each other few times, the faint sensation lingering on your lips from the same moment when Yunho detached himself from you, winking at you while taking a step back and innocently smiling as if he wasn’t about to kiss you in the backyard of Han Jisung’s mansion during one of his parties. You walked towards your friend with a hammering heart, and occasionally touching your lips in order to quench the lust you were feeling; you spent your way back home wondering if you could get drunk on another person’s cologne, because all your senses were focused on the feeling of throbbing desire you felt towards Yunho.

Despite your efforts of avoiding thinking about the party and completely focus on work, you still found your thoughts wildly wandering towards that night every time you had a break. Although your friend kept encouraging you to go talk to him, you always said no, hiding yourself behind the most stupid excuses, hinting that obviously, someone like Yunho could never like - let alone desire, someone like you.

«I’m too inexperienced for him.» you told your friend, which simply scoffed, looking at you like you just randomly grew another head.

«I don’t even know where to start in order to explain how dumb that statement is.» she muttered, going back into the kitchen while she kept mumbling other unintelligible things.

The diner’s entrance bells rang loudly, echoing in the almost empty room on a Wednesday night, and you shortly panicked as soon as you recognized Yunho casually walking towards the counter. It was the first time you’ve seen him since the party, and you didn’t know both how to react and how to greet him; did you have to pretend nothing happened?

«Hi, angel.» Yunho’s endearing smile most definitely caused your heart to skip a beat, and you timidly greeted him back with a smile.

«Are you by yourself, tonight?» you dared to ask, in the attempt of making a small conversation as you were busy preparing his coffee while he sat directly behind you on one of the red leather stools in front of the counter.

«I am. Were you waiting for someone else?» even if you weren’t looking at him, you could hear the smug grin that was dancing on his lips; you immediately shook your head, your eyes locked on the coffee machine in front of you, and you heard Yunho hum, as if he was pleased with your answer.

Contrarily to your expectations, you and Yunho fell into a peaceful and relaxing small talk, and he also listened to you blabbering about how rude and unkind customers have been lately without complaining about you talking too much. Even if he had finished his coffee long ago, he settled for keeping the conversation going, finding you insanely entertaining and attractive to just walk away.

Gradually, you loosened yourself a bit, thanks to Yunho’s natural kindness and his way of talking which made you feel at ease; you slightly leaned on the counter while talking, as Yunho rolled a cigarette in the desperate attempt to keep his mind busy and prevent intrusive thoughts about all the ways he wanted to ruin you from popping up in his mind and suggest things you both might have regretted. As much as you thought that Yunho was a charming and interesting boy, he thought the same about you and so, for the first time in his life, he settled for making things right, following your pace.

«I guess you’re on closing shift,» Yunho said, licking along a stripe that would seal his cigarette, and you nodded as you were busy following the action. «Are you walking home by yourself?» «No, I’m-» «Yes! She is!» your friend immediately chimed in, and you suddenly remembered that you were not alone with Yunho, and she probably had to stand there and suffer from second hand embarrassment since who knows when. Yunho clearly understood that your friend cancelled on you last minute in order to leave the two of you alone and quietly chuckled at your small interaction, the cigarette he had previously rolled now placed behind his left ear. «I can walk you home, if you want.» he said, his gaze never faltering from yours.

Few hours later, you were both sitting on a bench at the now deserted skater park, the full moon watching over you as a pleasing spring breeze occasionally dishevelled both your hair.

«I still have to thank you for the tip you left me.» you said, focusing your attention on your hands, and Yunho simply shrugged.

Of course, the both of you engaged a conversation composed by the most infinite number of topics and of course, you ended up asking him about smoking and Yunho simply looked back at you, rising an eyebrow in surprise by the fact that the request escaped your lips out of nowhere, but also secretly pleased with the fact that you were not acting as if nothing happened few days earlier.

Yunho patiently taught you how to smoke without feeling like you were suffocating, occasionally rubbing your back as he waited for you to stop coughing.

«I can’t die like this, not before I get my monthly salary.» you cleared your voice, wiping the lone tear that escaped your eyes, and Yunho chuckled, his hand moving your hair from your face, so that now your neck was completely exposed to him, like a white canvas that he couldn’t wait to draw on. In order to stop coughing, you tried to focus about the fact that at this point, you and Yunho indirectly kissed through the filter of the cigarette, but it never really helped you, leaving you a bit flustered than you were before.

Somehow, you managed to learn the trick, and as you felt your body relaxing, you also felt becoming incredibly giggly; you knew that you were stupidly giggling at some jokes Yunho said while looking at him with rosy cheeks and a wide smile, but you couldn’t help yourself.

A large quantitative of praises towards Yunho were about to escape your lips but you managed to stop yourself just in time, losing yourself in the boy’s magnetic gaze which made you want more, aware that you wouldn’t even be able to quantify how much was that.

Once again, the thought about boys like him ending up breaking your heart popped up in your mind, but you ignored it.

“It’s the 50’s, love. Fall in love, live a little,” your friend had said, and you decided that, at least for tonight, you could have ignored the part of you which was always and only thinking about work.

Only when the bell tower signalled it was almost three in the morning, Yunho decided it was probably time to go back home.

«But we were having fun!» you whined, taking Yunho’s outstretched hand, which both helped you standing up but also pulled you flush against his body in a swift movement.

«Now,» Yunho smiled, and you had to beg your brain in order to stop the instinct that wanted for you to nuzzle against his chest and breathe in his alluring scent. «but you’re gonna hate me tomorrow, if you don’t get enough sleep.» even if you whined once again, you agreed with him and you both started to walk towards your apartment’s direction.

«Yes!» you giggled, quickly walking towards Yunho’s motorbike. «We’re gonna ride it?» you asked him, stopping next to his bike in order to tilt your head to look at him. Yunho thought that there was no way someone could look so cute after smoking weed for an hour, but yet, there you were, looking at him like you were the most innocent girl on the planet.

«No, angel face.» he said, affectionately ruffling your hair and making you pout. «I don’t have a spare helmet.»

«Next time?» you immediately asked, lifting your pinky finger in the air in an instinctive manner, and the hand which was furrowing your hair a moment earlier, was now lifting your chin while Yunho’s face came dangerously closer to yours.

«Are you sure that’s the only thing you’re gonna ride?» Yunho’s words seemed to spark the fuel that was smeared on your soul, since you were sure that the blush covering your cheeks could be seen from space. As you embarrassedly stuttered while coming up with an answer, Yunho laughed loudly – the sound making your heart do somersaults in your chest, while his long pinky finger gently intertwined with yours, sealing your promise. The both of you managed to arrive at your apartment while you kept giggling about the most random things, occasionally pouting about the fact that Yunho had been smoking too, but he completely seemed unaffected by it.

«Experience.» he simply answered as you unlocked your apartment’s door, immediately turning on the lights and heading for the couch while loudly calling for him to get in as well. Yunho followed you into your small living room, and sighed loudly at the sight of you laying down on the couch, with your arms thrown over your head while the shirt you were wearing was now showing part of your stomach.  

«Yunho.» you called for him in a serious voice, quickly sitting up and waiting for him to crouch down between your legs while sitting on the coffee table. You quickly shook your head as he asked you if you weren’t feeling okay while he carefully brushed  your hair out of your face, and you quietly gripped his jacket, looking at him in the eyes with the most serious expression you could muster. Yunho tilted his head, confused but your action but also intrigued about what you had up in your sleeve, when you definitely managed to surprise him another time.

«I’m so hungry.» you whispered as you were confessing a sin, and Yunho had to cover his mouth with his hand not to laugh too loudly. «But it’s almost four in the morning.»

«What do you want to eat?» Yunho asked back in a whisper, playing along, as if he was implying that your secrets were safe with him.

«I want a cheeseburger,» you smiled, counting on your fingers as you started to list a concerning amount of junk food, «and then, milk and cereal, and then…» Yunho let you finish while looking at you with an incredulous smile, before meticulously asking if you had any cereal in your house.

Less than five minutes later, you were happily munching to your night snack, trying to quench your chemical hunger. You didn’t expect for weed to have such a disastrous effect on you, but you managed to drift off – only after successfully feeding Yunho a couple of times, and eventually, hecarried you to your bedroom and left, not sure whether you’d like to see him first thing in the morning.

Later that night, you woke up with a headache and a bitter taste in your mouth; the fact that you were still wearing yesterday’s clothes was the proof that you did not have a fever dream and last night really happened. Your cheeks flared up in embarrassment, and you rubbed your temples before making up your mind and heading towards the kitchen  to drink some water and have some breakfast.

“I made a fool out of myself,” you thought, completely sure that you’ve blown off all the chances you had to get to know him better, “He’ll never want to see me again.” As you mindlessly grabbed a bowl from your cupboard, you noticed a small yellow paper neatly placed on your kitchen table.

“Hope you slept well, call me.” the paper said, and unexpectedly, there was Yunho’s phone number.

The note with Yunho’s number written on it was carefully taped on your fridge, but you still didn’t call him; four days quickly went by, and you still couldn’t find enough courage to dial his phone number and talk to him. At this point, you had the sensation that, in the back of your mind, the small yellow paper started to lighten up anytime you walked in front of it, only to become more evident and making you feel even guiltier. 

Yunho didn’t show up at the diner, and you took it as his personal way of letting you know that he was respecting your pace, a thing you were glad for.

An almost deafening noise of tires braking on the asphalt and a sudden crash noise made you immediately wake up clutching your chest in fear, sitting up straight in your bed as you tried to understand what just happened. Your heart was hammering in your chest due to the sudden fright, and you scanned the dark room in the desperate attempt to individuate any other noises which could help you identify what happened; as you walked to your bedroom’s window, you also heard the sound of multiple sirens approaching, and your eyes locked with the two cars that crashed against each other almost in front of your condominium. Both the police and an ambulance were quick to show up and take one of the two man back to the hospital, but even if the situation had calmed down and only the police remained with the other man to investigate the dynamics of the car crash, you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down. Work had been particularly busy those days, and the fact that you were stressed was undeniable.  

Perhaps, you were too zoned out to realize what you were doing; perhaps, your brain acknowledged the fact that in that moment, there was only one voice that you wanted to hear in order to feel better.

Therefore, you turned on the lights of your apartment all the way to the kitchen in order to collect that yellow post-it and listen to your brain which, at the moment, was suggesting to do the best thing.

«Hello?» Yunho's raspy voice mumbled from the other line; for a split second, you wondered how cute he looked with his hair messy and pointing in every direction due to sleep.

«Hey.» you mumbled, your voice a little more unstable than you originally planned, wondering if he would have been able to recognize you, and wondering if he would have got angry at you, since you were basically calling him in the middle of the night.

As your eyes glanced to the clock nailed to the wall right on top of your landline, you mentally cursed yourself, since it was literally 3.42 in the morning.

«Hey, angel.» Yunho mumbled again, the sound now a little muffled since he was probably rubbing the palm of his hand on his face in order to somehow get rid of all remaining traces of sleep. «Did anything happen?»

Although you wanted to tell him the truth, that you were okay but a car crash woke you up and you just wanted to hear his voice, you didn't; you spent few more seconds in silence, wondering how could you phrase all the waves of emotions you were feeling.

«Can you come over?» you finally whispered, aware that for sure he didn't manage to hear you, for your voice was almost inaudible; you quickly cleared your voice, ready to repeat your sentence a little louder when Yunho's voice made you close your mouth once again.

«Okay,» you heard him sigh, «I'll be there.» Yunho hung up and still, you stood there, listening to the robotic and redundant sound of the other line being hung up, while staring at the wall as if it was the most entertaining thing ever.

Yunho arrived more or less twenty minutes after your call, the loud rumble of his motorbike announcing his arrival. «I don't know why, but they're not letting anyone in, unless they live here,» Yunho's groggy voice greeted you as he closed the front door behind himself. «If the police officers come and ask, we're living together.» As if you were in autopilot, you quickly walked towards him, snaking your arms around his waist and trying to calm yourself down with his presence. You knew you were acting like an idiot for being scared like that but you couldn't help yourself, the pent up stress made you overreact and you were glad that Yunho still decided to show up after you basically ghosted him because you decided to shy up and act like a coward.

«Come on, let's go back to sleep.» Yunho was taller than you, therefore he easily towered over your frame and so, as he gently hugged you close to his body while placing his chin on the top of your hand, you felt safe.

It was funny how you were standing in your apartment in the middle of the night, clinging to the stereotypical boy your mom always warned you about, as if he was the only way you had to feel better. Inexplicably, Yunho's strong arms made you feel like you wanted to build a home in there; like those wooden houses built on trees some little kids had, where they hid when they wanted to have their personal space and live safely in their own world for some time.

Secretly, you wished you could stop time in order to live this moment for eternity, but deep down, you couldn't help but wish for these moments to become your new, daily routine.

Obviously, you didn't know yet, but Yunho wanted pretty much the same as you did. In his eyes, in that very moment, you looked so small and helpless that he felt the desire of protecting you from everything.

Yunho hanged his leather jacket before the two of you eventually ended up cuddling on your bed, facing each other while laying on your sides; Yunho's right leg was slightly between yours while your left leg was resting over his thigh, your naked skin pressed against the rough fabric of Yunho's denim jeans while his fingertips gently caressed the expanse of your exposed thigh.

Before he arrived, you wondered if the perspective of sleeping with a boy while being so underdressed – a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, was the right choice but you didn't really want to change your pyjamas. Now, Yunho's warm hands made you want to completely feel his natural warm skin against yours.

«Thank you.» you whispered some time later, a faint and tranquil murmur into the comfortable silence you were sharing.

«It's okay, angel.» Yunho sighed, holding you a little closer to his chest. «Anytime you need me, you holler, and I'll appear.» his words were nothing but sweet, and of course, you believed him.

«Don't go away this time.» you mumbled right against Yunho's collarbone, your breath ticking the skin that the wide collar of his shirt exposed. Yunho's answer came in the form of kissing your forehead, and you slowly drifted off to sleep, lulled by the other's slow rhythmic breathing and the feeling of his warm body enveloping yours.

The sound of your alarm woke up the both of you in the middle of the morning. Yunho – now almost completely laying under you, groaned in protest before effortlessly turning the both of you around in a swift and quick movement.

«Five more minutes.» he whined, his voice unexpectedly deep and hoarse. As much as you wanted to chuckle since that action was incredibly cute, you stayed there, almost petrified, as Yunho was now laying with his head on your chest and his legs between yours; he manhandled you so easily you had to close your eyes in order not to give in to the sensation of the heat that was pooling into your panties and consequently to the thought of searching for relief on his firm thigh.

«Why is your heart beating so fast?» Yunho asked, rubbing his eyes as he propped himself on his elbow, now almost completely awake. If you thought that Yunho looked handsome on a daily basis, now you were completely sure that he just earned the status of "breathtaking": his lips were plump and rosy because of sleep, and his cheeks were painted by a faint blush, his hair were dishevelled and looked pretty much untameable. You were used to seeing him surrounded by the "bad boy" aura, you'd never expect to find him so cute you'd want to squish his cheeks.

«Do I make you nervous?» he asked, a mischievous grin on his lips as his cheek was now placed on the palm of his hand while he kept hovering above you. «Well, yes.» you admitted, your glance quickly drifting away from his. «You're... you.» at this point, not only you lost all the ability to think properly, but you were also sure that Yunho thought you were completely dumb.

However, he simply hummed, his long fingertips hovering above your lips which naturally parted; as you unconsciously licked your lips, the fact that Yunho was following the action didn't go unnoticed.

«You'd probably want to be careful, angel.» Yunho's voice made you imperceptibly close your legs around his thigh. «Just because I like you doesn't mean you should try your luck.» his fingers were now under your chin, the feeling of the cold ring he wore on his index finger making your head spin with different scenarios which ended up in the same sinful way. «Otherwise, I won't hold back.» Yunho's words were all it took for you to tangle your hand in the front of his shirt; you weren't pulling him closer nor away from you, you just needed another conformation that this was happening for real. Yunho just admitted he liked you, feeling which definitely was reciprocated; anticipation was clouding your senses, and Yunho prevented you from daydreaming any further by purposely tensing up the muscle of his thigh just to tease you, but it simply ended up in you trying to suppress a needy whine.

«Then don't.» your voice trembled as your eyes locked with his, happy and relieved about the fact that the lust and the passion you found there were matching yours.

«Remember, angel,» Yunho shook his head with an amused grin. «That you asked for it.» you didn't have time to question his words, since his lips immediately found yours in a needy, passionate kiss. You completely submitted to him; you didn't dare to try and take control, you didn't want to. All you wanted to do was to lose yourself on the feeling of Yunho's lips moulding with yours, his teeth nibbling your lower lip and his tongue moving with yours in a messy and passionate pace. You felt the mattress dip under his knee as he balanced his weight on his arms, action which made his thigh press a little more roughly against your heat; instinctively, you groaned, arching your back in the desperate attempt to press yourself even more against the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

That action wasn't nor casual, nor innocent, and you felt Yunho's smug smile against your lips, before he leaned down to kiss your jaw and eventually, leave a trail of kisses for as much as the collar of your shirt allowed. Your mind has already flown on cloud nine long ago; during these years you never really missed sexual contact nor you ever felt the need for a relationship but there was something unexplainable about Yunho's touch that made you feel like you wanted to make up for all the time you lost. And of course, you wanted to do it with him.

«Yunho,» your voice was somewhere in-between from a whine and a surprised squeal as his right hand roughly pulled your waist upwards and towards him; he simply hummed, lost in the feeling of enjoying all the reactions your sensitive body had.

Despite you were most definitely loving how good Yunho was making you feel, you felt the desire of making him feel good as well and so, your fingers gradually loosened from the grip they had on Yunho's hair and gradually lowered until the palm of your hand was completely placed on his half hard length. A wave of pride washed over you as he instinctively jerked his hips forward in your hand, burying for a moment his head in the crook of your neck with a loud groan – which worked wonders for the situation in your now completely wet panties.

«You'll have plenty of time to make me feel good,» Yunho eventually swatted your hand away, pinning it against the mattress. «Today is about you.» he added, proving his point by digging his knee against the mattress so that the friction between your legs would increase. Yunho's sentence somehow boosted your confidence and if his right hand were guiding the movement of your hips for a brief fraction of time, now it settled for hoisting your thigh a little higher, his nails sinking in your soft skin as you grinded against his thigh while your lips were occasionally moulding against each other. Your shorts now completely exposed your inner thighs and the sensation of the rough fabric of Yunho's jeans made your skin almost feel sore, but anytime he tensed the muscle of his thigh, you stopped thinking about it, since the sensation of your orgasm building up thanks to someone else and not your own fingers were all you could focus on.

Yunho, on the other hand, was focusing as much as he could in order not to come at the sight of you falling apart so rapidly under him and because of him. It would have been embarrassing for him to come untouched, but the way you were repeatedly whining against his lips while frantically gripping at his shirt or his hair just to anchor yourself at something made him want you even more.

Yunho's thoughts got interrupted by a sinful loud moan escaping your lips and your body tensing up before relaxing once again, collapsing on the bed with your eyes closed while you were trying to focus on slowing down your breath. As you came, your thighs squeezed Yunho's in a brief but tight hold, brushing against his length in the process, and Yunho was sure that precome was now staining his boxers.

Feeling your heart hammering in your chest for two completely different reasons, you reached out to peck Yunho's lips in a silent and affectionate “thank you”, and he smiled before repeating the gesture. «Are you sure you-» «Yes,» Yunho answered with a small nod. «I could use the bathroom, and then we could cook breakfast?» Yunho somehow answered in a questioning tone, unsure whether you wanted to spend more time with him. You simply nodded, checking the watch on your nightstand before giggling. «More like lunch.» «Brunch?» Yunho answered as, following your gaze, noticed what time it was.

«Just so you know,» Yunho casually addressed you, pointing at you with his index finger as he was still holding his glass of water. «I bought a spare helmet, so I might just let you ride with me.» You nodded, eagerly, happy that Yunho wasn't backing down on the pinky promise you made.

Few days later, you told everything to your friend, which had to stop drinking because she was somehow managing to squeal while doing so. «Yunho has never let anyone ride his bike,» she said in an excited voice, «not even his friends.»

Not only Yunho took you on an insane amount of dates but also, every time his work shifts allowed him to, he'd pick you up from work because he didn't want to let you walk back by yourself. Spending your free days together had become a habit and so, three months later, there was a little corner in your wardrobe only for Yunho's spare clothes. Yunho managed to make you feel the happiest girl in the world, to make you feel desired and loved, and the night Yunho confessed you that his feelings were the same as yours, you felt do happy you swore you could become the sun of a whole new solar system.

Yunho also confirmed your friend’s words: you were indeed the first one he ever let on his bike, and you both loved this privilege but most importantly, you loved to cling to his back to your heart’s contents and enjoyed the little forms of affections he still managed to show. Anytime you were waiting for the traffic lights to turn green once again, he’d mindlessly caress your leg, all the way from your ankle to your thigh; sometimes he’d just trace with his thumb over the top of your hands which were intertwined on his abdomen.

You never thought – probably not even in your wildest fantasies, that one day, you’d be sitting right in front of Yunho on top of his Harley Davidson – your back pressed against the fuel tank and your legs around his waist, as his length rhythmically disappeared inside you.  Obviously, you never suspected he could hide some kinky meaning behind the sentence: “probably you’d be more comfortable wearing a skirt”, but still, there you were, trusting Yunho and letting him fuck you on top of his motorbike while both your helmets were safely placed on the floor and you had the perfect view of the sun setting in the sky due to being on a non particularly popular hill and therefore, completely alone.

«What if someone sees us?» you whined, the sensation of Yunho filling you up so perfectly and roughly – even if his pace was slow and teasing, momentarily clouding your senses and making you think that you probably wouldn’t have actually cared, not when you were so close to your release and Yunho looked like Apollo himself as the lights of the setting sun were dancing behind his back.

«Why, would you care?» Yunho asked back with a groan, a smug smile on his lips and his hands tightly gripping your waist under your high-waisted skirt; the chuckle you wanted to answer with died in your throat as he changed pace in the same moment you decided to sit up a little bit straighter, holding his shoulders to balance yourself. It was undoubtedly messy, and the fact that Yunho was strong enough to effortlessly fuck you in those circumstances made the warm sensation of an approaching orgasm pool even faster in your lower stomach. 

Both you and Yunho managed to almost come together, between breathless chuckles – due to the fact that you were more than willing to try new things as long as you were together, strained moans and passionate kisses. 

«My legs are numb.» you breathed, leaning once again your back on the fuel tank as Yunho was looking at you as you were a work of art, «I can’t get down.» you added, smiling before randomly erupting into a series of giggles, toying with the sleeves of Yunho’s leather jacket. 

«That’s my favourite thing to hear, angel.» Yunho smiled at you with a mischievous wink as he was gently running his fingertips on the expanse of your thighs.

Yunho loved how willing you were to be bad for him, just as much as you loved how willing he was to be good for you.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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[needfantasticstories]

Hi again, @twistedstoryteller!

Okay, LU recs off the top-ish of my head in a sort of organized-ish order:

AUTHORS!

Angst, Action, and Mixed:

Faerule and the No Good Very Bad Road Trip by ImperialKatwala, PolynomialPandemic is a great "Chain Meets Hyrule" fic.

@gintrinsic-writing is phenomenal. A gem. I love all of it, but check the tags to find ones you're comfortable with. AO3 Blood Like Yours is my personal favorite, and the sequel Like Fire in Your Veins by @pocketramblr are both about Hyrule's Blood Curse from Adventures of Link. M for Violence for most of them, but check tags to be sure. If you like it, consider also...

Protector of the Golden Power by Sillus Hyrule centric but he has a different secret.

@somer-writes has a lot of great short one shots, some darker than others. My personal favorite is a sort of character study of the boys at their lowest and how they recover called "Depletion"

For a Sliver of Sunlight by tirsynni: Warrior's dedication to his brothers makes him question his title as Hero.

What are You to a God Slayer by Secretlysheikah BAMF Sky

Brethren in a Cradle by Skyward_Arpeggio BABY!!!! It is adorable, if a bit sad at the start.

Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Linked Universe Whumptober 2023) by Skyward_Arpeggio because in general they don't go above T ratings and write excellent fics.

this year it taught me (lost and ambitious) by qar Also EXCELLENT writer. "Sky has a separate moment with each member of the team"

Whumptober 2023 by Arecaceae Great fics! Plus, "Each story will have warnings in the tags and the story notes as well as a 0-5 whump rating. The ratings will be relative to my writing, so my 5 might not be equivalent to someone else's 5. I don't write MCD, extreme gore, non-con, or extreme emotional angst."

Major's Whumptober 2023 by major_de_speed Major's are also quite clean despite the M rating which is more about the violence.

Linkeduniverse Shorts by Skyward_Arpeggio LU Short fics

A Royal Castletown Wedding by Skyward_Arpeggio This story is so good!!!!!!!!!

Whumptober 2022 by Arecaceae more great fics, rated T.

LU Whump Dump by UnexpectedStormy (ArtemiStorm)  need AO3 account to read, but worth it! Linked Universe Whumpy One-Shots, rated T.

There's one I'm missing, and when I find it I'll add it here. It involves a cursed magical artifact that Legend messes with... it's intense.

Fluffier Fics:

Frosty Reception by Skyward_Arpeggio "Four’s glad to finally be home again, and he’s not the only one happy at his return." Cute fic!

S’more Stories by Ginger375 "A collection of drabbles and mini-fics for LUtober! Day 31: Costumes"

Sentiment by Arecaceae

nine heroes, one spirit by Imjustherefortheangst, uncleskyrule (unclemoriarty) tons of great short fics, all with G-T ratings

Finding Family by Tashacee "AU where Wild's scars are a lot worse and he isn't used to interacting with people. The Chain think their new brother is dope af and are determined to make him feel at home."

My Heart's Forsaken Me by sister_dear "Four looses his sword in the heat of battle, and it's picked up by someone else... Time’s aren’t the only secrets coming to light, and the gang discovers they still have a thing or two to learn from each other."

Ambush at the Bridge by JinxedRuby Very action and healing oriented fic, multiple perspectives on one event.

Dark Clouds on the Horizon by CubanCracker62 "he Chain ends up in Wild's era shortly before the events of TotK."

There are worse ways to stay alive by EliotRosewater one shots rated T.

Crack Fics:

Misplaced Heroes by notOK this had me busting out laughing SO MANY TIMES!

Peak Gremlin Energy by defenestration_nation "Fics focusing on various Links being chaotic gremlins"

Not Necessarily LU, but Adjacent or just LoZ:

Blood of the Hero by Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase: (Wild) Link's parents have to step in to save him when the Shrine of Resurrection gets damaged. His parents are so well written, and Abel makes appearances in LU-related/adjacent fics, The Many Misadventures of Dad Squad and Dad Squad AU by Nancyheart, Silver_Captain82403, Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase

which is part crack and part angst, mostly lighthearted.

Don't Worry Man, I'm from the Yiga Clan: Link makes a Yiga friend due to being a delightful chaos gremlin.

Feature MCD... but might be worth it:

And Still the Cradle Blooms by Solistrix: GORGEOUS literary masterpiece. The writing is unreal. It's descriptions and emotions are incredible. This is more like finding the meaning in eventual death, so of the three here I suspect you'll like this one best as far as not being too hurt by the character's mentioned end.

This is an Adjuration: I'll be real, this is full of action and excitement but yes, it has MCD and is making me cry, but it's also REEEEAAALLY good!

Blood Drops on Roses by HotCheetohatred Fantastic storytelling! Wild centric, Twi is big brother but from day one of Wild's journey. Unreliable young Wild as narrator is an absolute delight. Unfinished, no MCD yet, but it's in the tags so no promises.

Modern AUs for not-big-on-modern-au fans:

As a fellow not-seeker of modern AUs, I personally have enjoyed the following

@skyward-floored Incredibles AU

Wild’s Wolf by HotCheetoHatred "Modern AU where young Wild is a feral forest child, raised by Wolf Twilight. He is captured, separated from Twilight, and put under observation. Time helps him escape." Unfinished, and I admit personal bias here because HotCheetoHatred is my BETA reader.

ARTISTS!!!

@ovegakart: amazing action, gut-busting humor, and captivating storytelling! Does comics

@la-sera: beautiful, ethereal, and gorgeous illustrations and a great storyteller, loves downfall duo but does every one of the boys justice

@dfanart: HILARIOUS and such heartfelt emotions on them boys.

@kikker-oma great art from fluff to whump to action

@1caru has so many fluffy LU gems!

@linderosse has a Zelda's meet AU, does LU, and much more!

@lele5429 great illustrations and abstract pieces of LU fanart.

@theecholegend hahaha... arson.

@ikaishere has so many cute LU ones.

@thepinklink fabulous LU character sketches

@hiimgin BIAS! I got to work with them and they are FABULOUS!

@pluviatrix has art for their fic And Still the Cradle Blooms

@cherrypaii has fantastic illustrations of these boys!

AND MANY, MANY MORE!

(Commenters, please add artists I forgot. I know there are a ton Im missing!!)

Hope this helps you feel welcome!

[rookthorne]

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to them and their irresistible charm – their job, as firemen, was to put out fires and infernos, but you could only hope they'd let the fire they started in the depth of your soul, consume you whole.

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 ༄ Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑲𝑬𝒀 ༄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑭𝑰𝑪 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ༄ 10

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ༄ 19,470

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ༄ This is all thanks to the huge reception these menaces received, and for @sgt-seabass ❤

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ༄ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

⠈⠂⠄⠄ 𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑶𝑾𝑵 ༄ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀  = angst — 𝐖  = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃  = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅  = fluff — 𝐒  = smut

These are in timeline order - this is subject to change as I add entries.

༄ 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

It was an old wives tale that you put no stock in: that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach – though this time, it worked, and it worked better than you could have ever imagined. 

༄ 𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧’, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’ ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

It was only meant to be a visit – to get to know them better, learn of their dynamic and learn just how you would fit in. They, however, had other ideas.

༄ 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

You were quite proud of the joke you had come up with, and you could only hope that they would appreciate just as much as you.

Spoiler alert: they did.

༄ 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

The heat and tension was undeniable, and you felt it the moment you got the simple text from them. What awaited you, however, was something much more than a simple night of games.

༄ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

The urge, while powerful and all-consuming most of the time, never burned this hot. It was always temperable, until it wasn’t – and there was one way to make it better, it was just a good thing that a certain someone was just as much of a trouble maker as you were.

༄ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

There was an unconventional way that both Steve and Bucky passed the time, and you were about to find out just how mischievous the pair could be. 

༄ 𝐅𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

It was always a rocky road, establishing new traditions within a family. Naturally, the two men wouldn’t make it that hard, but they wouldn’t make it so easy, either – it did not mean that it would be any less fun, or any less messy, that was for sure.

༄ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐚 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

A day at the station reveals more truth than you could have ever imagined — not in the presence of your boys and little ones, or how they were so gentle with the young ones in their joy for festivities.

༄ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

You knew with absolute certainty that you meant a lot to both Bucky and Steve — to them as themselves, and to their marriage, but you did not truly understand the depth of their devotion to you, not until a frosty, chilled morning where they revealed just how much they truly adored you.

༄ 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭'𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅

You should have known that things were never going to go to plan within that household — no matter how badly you wanted to start your day by treating your boys, they had other ideas, and accomplices. 

༄

༄ 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

༄ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

༄ 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ By @sgt-seabass

༄ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

Some birthday smut.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st, suicidal thoughts. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

TW: Suicidal thoughts

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Thank you all so much for the love and kind words for the last chapter! It was a heavy one, and seeing you all be excited and seeing your comments really made my day! I'm still feeling a little bit sick, but I really wanted to give you all the next chapter, so here it is! &lt;3 A trigger warning for this chapter: Suicidal thoughts.

Chapter 53: Isolation

There was a sweeping cold in the Red Keep that evening. The room of the chambers grew cooler as the fireplace dwindled. It was a biting cold that made your toes and fingers ache, and the tip of your nose feel frosty.

Not that it bothered you.

You had not moved, nor tried to cover yourself after the events of that evening.

You laid on your side, gown askew, legs bared to the world as your fingers did not relent their grip on your soft, tender flesh. You could feel the pressure of your grip, but no pain. Even the throbbing ache between your legs had dulled. 

Your body could not find sleep even as you grew numb to the world around you. So instead, you kept your eyes on the side of the wall in front of you, looking at the paint and green decor.

The room was dark when he had left, the candles and fire slowly dwindling, leaving the room in the dark shadow of night. You watched the wall slowly brighten with the rising sun. Dark black turned to deep green, until soon you found that the room would not need the aid of a fire to light the space. 

Blinking you shifted, moving to sit yourself up, joints stiff from their locked position all evening. As you moved, an ache ripped up your body, a hollow throbbing between your legs. You moved yourself up, feeling the sharp bruising sting, sliding your legs across the cool sheets.

As you looked down at yourself you saw the evidence left behind from Aemond’s assault. Your inner thighs were stained with dried blood and his spend, and beneath the sheets the same proof that was upon your skin.

Slowly, you inched your way to the side of the bed, until you pulled yourself to stand, an unfamiliar hollowness in your core made your brows furrow. It felt so strange.

You felt strange.

Like it wasn’t you, it wasn’t your body aching.  

You moved across the chambers, in the same dress as the day before, shuffling towards the windowsill, and its inbuilt seat below it. You blinked as you saw the familiar presence of someone in your chambers. 

A welcomed presence.

Lucerys sat at one side of the window seat, looking out at the water, not having turned his head to look at you. He sat, dry and not drenched, as if waiting for you to join him. 

And so you did.

Was this how Helaena had felt?

When she was with Aegon?

Was she subjected to this cruelty, day in, day out, for years? Was this what the Gods had signed her fate to? To be brutalised and assaulted, riddled with pain?

Did she succumb to the numbness? The dark waves that would have swallowed her hole.

Was Aemond just as cruel to her?

Aemond.

Where was he?

His absence confused you, and as you pressed yourself to sit at the window, staring out at the ocean, sun glittering atop its surface, you let yourself look down to the cobblestones below.

In your periphery you could see Lucerys’ red and black robes as he tensed, following your line of sight. 

How did it feel for your aunt to throw herself from her window? 

Is this what she had felt then? 

Did she look down at the stones below and think, ‘What a greater fate than this?’

Did she regret it when she took the leap? 

Or did she finally feel at peace as she plummeted to her death below?

You wondered if it would feel like flying. To be free of the world and its pain. To feel entirely weightless as you made an important, and life altering, life extinguishing choice. 

Or would it feel the way you felt the day you fell.

No control.

Fear.

An anxious wait for the inevitable.

“No.” Came Lucerys soft tone, still not having looked at you, still keeping his gaze on the horizon, yet he seemed to know what you were thinking, even if it was not voiced out loud. 

Or perhaps it had been voiced it out loud?

You let yourself flick your eyes to look at him.

He was the same as you remembered. Small and sweet, with full cheeks that were rosy. His precious mop of brown hair curled, and messy atop his head. No sword was at his side. 

He looked solemn.

As you sat, you heard the entrance of the maids who would now be tending to you in your new chambers.

They were not your maids. They were not Saria and Aella. They were not two girls you had bonded with over years. They had not seen your ups, nor downs. They had not been an ear to your worries, and a soft hand when needed.

They were strangers to you.

Alien.

And they served Aemond.

And so you did not move your head from its gaze of the sea, nor did you answer their calls, nor turn to face them when one touched you with an unsure hand. If it had been Saria or Aella, they would have held you and let you grieve. They would have brought your favourite treat, and fetched a Maester. 

But instead, these maids gave up on their short lived attempts to rouse you from your spot to eat, and dress. And instead moved to the bed, no doubt witnessing the evidence of the reason for your state, and simply pushing through. Ignoring the blood and his spend, ripping the sheets off with practised precision to replace them with fresher ones. 

Was this practise due to dissolving the evidence of Aegon on the many servant girls in the Keep? Of his sins against his own wife, Helaena? 

Or perhaps the sins of Aemond upon her? 

Or Aemond upon the unknown women he surely must have taken to his chambers?

You wondered if Alys had been laid down in the same bed you had. You doubted it was by force, she would have willingly spread her legs, and let him part her folds with his fingers and-

A shiver rolled through your body at the thought.

When the maids in the chambers had finished their fussing, and had thoroughly tidied the space, and changed the sheets upon the bed they left, and you resumed your thoughts of the cobblestones below and if it were worth the risk. 

But what would your parents say? 

What would they do?

Daemon would burn the realm, no doubt, your mother beside him. Jacaerys would stop at nothing, not even if it meant his own life to avenge you. Your half sisters/cousins, Rhaena and Baela would turn the skies to ash.

And that was a risk that you could not take. 

“Dracarys.” The young boy whispered to you from your side.

Perhaps one day, when your mother was finally seated upon the Iron Throne, all Seven Realms hers for the taking, could you meet the Stranger in peace and go with him. Perhaps he would be kind to you, and seek you out himself.

Or perhaps you would have to force your meeting. 

“Stop.” Lucerys spoke.

Aemond did not return to your shared chambers until later that day, when the sun had rose to its peak, and begun to fall beyond the horizon, light upon the cobblestones shifting to a soft orange.

The sky was so beautiful here.

The doors of the chambers opened and shut with little force. No booming slam was heard nor a creeping opening. He was neither sneaking in, nor barging in. It was a casual and calm entrance.

You supposed it was his chambers, despite your presence.

You did not turn your head, but you knew it was him. 

Lucerys did not look to watch his murderer approach you, nor did he turn to look at you, instead, keeping his vision to the ocean. Your core clenched painfully and you curled into yourself further on the window, hugging your sides harshly as you waited for his next assault. 

But none would come.

Instead, he surprised you. 

Again.

Aemond walked across the chambers, and began slow and gentle steps towards you, his feet walking across the stone floors quietly. You could feel his gaze on you, but you would not to turn to meet it.

Your uncle stood nearby, watching you look out of the window, waiting patiently for you to turn to him, and meet his burning gaze, to acknowledge his presence, or greet him. Perhaps even sneer at him or hiss, curse him and call him a monster. And yet you had no strength to do any of that.

“Y/n.” 

You simply blinked and continued to stare out the window, head coming to rest against the glass, its cold pane pressing against your skin. You didn’t turn to meet his gaze, nor move to shift your body. You stayed still and kept your eyes on the cobblestones far below you, at the bottom of the Keep.

You felt the gaze of the young brown haired boy on you.

What if you pushed hard enough on the window, to make him watch you fall?

Aemond uttered your name again, his feet stepping towards you, and you could see the blurry outline of him in your periphery. You could feel tears begin to build in your eyes, stinging your vision, before they fell in fat rivulets down your cheeks.

You could not stop them.

You heard Aemond shift again, clothes rustling, but not moving forward. 

“Did you eat?”

You had not. 

And you would not. 

Food would not have sat in your stomach. It would have worked its way back up your throat, even if you had tried. Even if you forced yourself, your stomach would not be able to hold it.

But despite this, you had no hunger, and felt no urge to drink or eat.

“Zaldristos.” Your uncle said, so quietly, so softly, that it was almost like it wasn’t real.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

Luc sat still, watching you move your eyes to meet the horizon and the glittering ocean again. His presence was so welcomed, and you had missed seeing the boy. And so you concentrated on his form beside you, letting your gaze float to his face as you stared back at him.

His eyes were the same deep brown that you remembered. 

One time, when you were younger, you had been sitting in the gardens together, Lucerys in your lap, as you read to him the tales of Nyra. And when you had looked down at his sweet face, a stream of light had caught his eye, and you saw the wondrous, deep brown they held with golden flecks nestled throughout.

As you watched the vision of your brother, you let the tears fall freely. You knew that he was not there, but even so, you did not wish for him to leave. The ghost of him was all you had. And it made you not so alone in the Keep, you were very much alone in.

“Please don’t leave me.” You whispered to the boy, and he simply blinked at you.

Aemond behind you shifted, stepping forward, thinking that perhaps you had uttered to him. Perhaps you would finally speak to him, but once you saw the movement, you turned your head away again, looking back out at the ocean, refusing to gaze upon your uncle.

“You need to eat.” Aemond tried again.

After standing behind you for some time, Aemond finally left you to your silence, looking at the water with the company of your dead brother. 

You had sat at the window until the sun had set. Not moving to eat nor drink. Not moving to rise from your curled position, nor to look back at Aemond as he attempted to command you to join him in bed.

You did not move as the sun rose again, high into the sky, watching as the oceans surface created the most beautiful colour show. Something unwitnessed by you before. A deep black to dark blue, dark blue to lavender purple, lilac to a blush pink, pink to orange and yellow then finally to the same crisp blue that it usually was. 

The maids came and tried again in vain as Aemond had left for his day. They left food on the table for you, with wine and water. You could smell the meal, but did not move to it.

You were stuck. 

Cemented in place at the window beside your brother. 

The pain was still there, though distant like all things you felt or thought. You felt that you were a whisper inside of yourself, that you had shrunk and could not call out anymore. And so you stayed in the depths of the dark, and enjoyed the numbness that came with it.

But as the sun had begun to set once more, and you still sat where you were, the pain soon began to creep in again, and your surroundings became less muffled. 

A hand touched your shoulder, breaking you from your revery.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[elspethdekarios]

Last Light: Gale x Tav

NSFW!!! 🔞

This fic takes place directly after the crew return to Last Light after defeating Ketheric. It's half emotional and sweet, half smut. Yeah, I know it's unrealistic to think that anyone has enough energy to bang after the Moonrise fight, pls suspend your disbelief lol

I hope you enjoy, I put a lot of time into this and I'm quite proud of it 🥹💜

Before you read, you should know a small bit of background info:

My tav, Elspeth, has a ring she's worn for decades that was given to her by her family's housekeeper, Tessie, who thinks of Elspeth as her own. She's always felt more loved by Tessie than she has her own family. The ring is special to her, and it broke shortly into their journey.

------

A crack ran along the surface of the Selunite dome protecting the Last Light Inn, spreading in fractals like the roots of a tree. Slowly, the dome dissipated, following the motions of Isobel’s raised hands. It was still dark outside, but a different darkness–the inky depths of a night sky instead of a green necrotic glow. The air in my lungs felt cleaner, lighter. All around the inn, tieflings and Flaming Fists and Harpers rejoiced with excited squeals, hugging their still-standing loved ones and marveling at the miracle we were witnessing. A hundred years this blight cursed the land–and suddenly, it was gone. 

“I won’t fully believe it until the day breaks,” Jaheira said from Isobel’s side. “But I will celebrate all the same.”

I sat on the ground nearby, propped up against a trunk of supplies. My limbs ached, my armor was bloodied, my spirit renewed and spent at the same time. I peeled off my gloves to stretch my fingers, the night air cool and soothing on my sticky skin.

“Alright, soldier?” Karlach’s familiar heat told me she was nearby before she spoke. And the smell of beer. She handed me a mug, frosty and overflowing with foam at the top, and clinked her beer against mine. “We fucking did it! You did it!”

“Yeah, we did,” I said as I gulped down the cold beer. It was the most refreshing drink I’d ever had in my life–and beer was never my beverage of choice. “Though I’m not sure how much of me is left.”

“You lose a limb or something?” she asked. I shook my head. “Didn’t think so. You’ll be good as new after some rest.”

I let my head fall back against the trunk behind me. Just keeping my neck upright was exhausting. We watched the celebration unfolding around us–the residents of Last Light draining the kegs, passing around fresh bread rolls and what fruit we had left. Dammon had even left his forge to join in, laughing in conversation with some of the others. Karlach kept looking in his direction, just briefly, before she would conspicuously look up at the sky or crane her head to the opposite side.

“You like him, don’t you?” I asked.

“What? Who?”

“Dammon.” I nudged her shoulder with mine.

“I don’t–” Karlach protested, but paused when she turned her head towards me and sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

“Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, El.”

“I’m not alone. Look at all these people,” I gestured around us. “Besides, I’m about to go and find Gale. Not sure what he’s up to, now that I think about it….”

After we finished our beers and Karlach strode across the lawn to join Dammon, I headed inside. The bar was lively, a Fist and a tiefling pouring drinks for anyone who wanted one, but not quite as crowded as outside. I supposed everyone wanted to see the sky without the shadow curse as much as possible. Among the few patrons was Gale, leaning on his elbows against the bar as he waited for a drink. Two drinks, actually.

“Are those both for you?” I teased as I slid into the space next to him. He was impeccably clean, clothes and all. He had either taken a bath already or used some spell of his devising. I felt even filthier in comparison. 

“That, I am still deciding.” He kissed my forehead and handed me one of the goblets. “You were magnificent.”

“As were you.”

“We make a good team, then.”

“Are you… feeling okay? About your decision, I mean.”

“I will be,” he said. “I’m glad we’re still alive, of course. I’d choose you a thousand times over. I’m upset with myself for being so… willing to destroy myself and the people around me. But–” he took a gulp from his cup. “Tonight is for celebration. I can work through my emotions tomorrow.”

I placed my hand over his with a sad smile. I was trying my hardest to stay upright, my eyelids were beginning to fall involuntarily, my head threatening to do the same.

“Do you want me to run you a hot bath? Might be a good time for one, with everyone still celebrating.”

“That would be lovely,” I said. “But only if you can help me get up the stairs and take this bloody armor off.”

“Deal,” he smiled, offering me his arm.

In our group’s shared bedroom, Gale helped take off my armor, piece by piece, and added them to a pile of washing to be done. First the pauldrons, then the chest plate, and so on until I was only in my underclothes.

“I’ll go start the water,” he said as he walked to the washroom, turning to face me again at the door frame. “Do we have any fresh towels in here?”

“I have some on my bed. I’ll get them.”

I had placed a stack of folded towels on my bed days ago–my bed that I hadn’t been sleeping in. I’d been sleeping in Gale’s. The towels were untouched, still neatly folded where I left them. Only now, a small golden pouch sat atop them, tied with a green ribbon that also held a small scroll. I unrolled the parchment, the smallest hint of magic in my fingertips as I did, and read:

“My dearest Elspeth,

Words alone can never express how much you mean to me. Actions, perhaps, may let me get closer to the heart of it. I know not where our journey will take us. I feel it may be blasphemous to think about the future, but sometimes those fantasies are the very anchor to which I hoist my soul. When sleep is futile or all hope seems lost, I think of you. I imagine holding your hand as I show you around Waterdeep, showing you my favorite spots and learning which places will become yours. I see you curled up in front of the fire in the library, an open book discarded next to you as you sleep without a care in the world. I see a life with you–a normal life. I want that more than anything in the world.

Despite my waxing poetic about our future, this gift is simply that–a gift. I love you.

Yours always,

Gale”

Inside the pouch was Tessie’s ring. The crack had been soldered together with silver, leaving a subtle seam in its place, remnants of the molten metal’s shape before it dried. I looked up through the tears welling in my eyes to see Gale leaning against the door frame, scratching his beard and averting his eyes to the ground.

“I hope it’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries, and I know there are flaws, but Dammon and I–”

I bolted over to him, interrupting his rambling by pulling him into a deep kiss. I could feel the tension in his body melt away as he rested his hands on my waist. The steam from the bath enveloped us in a cloud of fresh rose and mint–where did he even get this soap?

“It’s perfect.” I embraced him, resting my head on his chest as he squeezed me back. “Thank you.”

“I’m so glad you approve,” he said. “I was worried I went too far, altering something so sentimental to you.”

“This means so much to me, Gale. You mean so much to me.” His eyes found my own,

glassy and emotional, juxtaposed against his upturned lips. “Thank you for choosing me. For staying here with me. I… don’t know if I could go on without you. The possibility of our future is the glue that keeps me together. I know it’s hard to talk about, considering everything, but Gale–I’m yours. I want to be yours forever. I want to wake up next to you every day without the lingering thought that it could be our last. To love you with my whole body and soul and declare it to the entire world.” I caressed his face, looking deep into his eyes. “You are so precious to me.”

My voice broke on the last sentence and teardrops stained the blue fabric of his shirt. He kissed me again and pulled me close.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream,” he murmured, forehead pressed to mine, pushing a section of loose hair behind my ear. “I don’t know how else I could have managed to get you to love me.”

“It’s not a dream,” I whispered into another kiss, a gentle one, lips light as air. “I love you. All you ever have to do is exist, and I’ll love you.”

He ran his hands down my shoulders, my arms, and back up again. I took his top lip between mine, my tongue gently moving into his mouth. He caressed the thin strap of my bra with the back of his fingers and gently pulled it down my shoulder, smirking.

“I have to get cleaned up first,” I whispered into his mouth. 

“I can be patient.”

Once I was sunk to my neck in the hot water, Gale excused himself from the room.

“Relax, my love,” he said. “I’ll be back in just a few moments.”

The weight of my body dissipated as the heat worked its way into my sore muscles and aching bones. The fresh, soapy aroma, the steam, the twinkling lights Gale conjured across the ceiling of the dim, candlelit room–it felt like a luxury spa rather than a washroom in a nearly abandoned inn. Alone with my thoughts, images of the illithid colony flooded my mind’s eye. I kept remembering the tendons holding the place together, the bugbear dismembering bodies, the abject image of Ketheric Thorm himself…. I plunged my head under the water, which felt almost scalding hot on my face, and tried to clear the thoughts from my mind, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. I tried to cast a spell to calm my emotions, but my magic was spent. 

Gale returned moments later with two large cups of ice cold water and a knowing smile on his face.

“I think we’ve both had enough alcohol for the night,” he said, sitting down on the floor beside the tub. “We’re already in for a rough morning after such a fight, and nursing a hangover won’t make it any easier.”

After gulping down the water, I began to wash. Gale insisted on washing my hair, his strong hands massaging circles into my scalp. It was enough to put me straight to sleep. Once my hair was rinsed and my body thoroughly cleaned of grime, Gale wrapped my shoulders in a towel as I stepped out of the tub.

“I have another surprise for you,” he said, kissing the pointed tip of my ear.

“Another? Gale, you spoil me,” I teased him and wrung my wet hair into the towel. He only held up a dangling keyring and grinned.

“I asked Jaheira for the private bedroom downstairs. It’s ours for the night.”

“You really know how to smooth talk your way into anything, don’t you?”

“She can hardly say no,” he said. “We just saved this place and killed her sworn enemy.”

I moved to pull on my nightclothes, but Gale stopped me with a gentle hand on my wrist. “No need to get dressed when I’ll just be taking everything off of you.”

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and he could see it, judging by the devilish grin that crossed his face.

“And how exactly am I supposed to get downstairs?”

One invisibility spell and a couple of arcane locks later, Gale and I were lying naked on top of the surprisingly soft duvet in the bedroom downstairs. A very faint steam rose from my skin in the cool air as I propped myself up on my elbows like a sphynx, hovering over Gale’s devoted, sleepy face as I played with his hair.

“You went through all this trouble just to fall asleep on me?” I teased as I watched his eyelids flutter shut.

“Your fingers running through my hair may as well be an enchanted lullaby,” he said before forcing his eyes back open. “In truth, I’m exhausted.”

“I know you are, love. So am I. We can just lie here if you want.”

With a hand on the back of my head, he pulled me close for a kiss.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered against my lips. “I want to show you that when I chose you, I meant it.”

A burst of energy ran through me with his words. I swung a leg over his body, straddling his hips as I knit my hands deep into his hair and pressed kisses into his neck. The musk of his skin was intoxicating, a warm, clean sweetness with a hint of something spicy underneath that was impossible to resist. I ran my tongue over the indented scar that trailed up his neck, sucking soft love marks down to his collarbone, savoring the salt of his skin. 

He sighed with pleasure and trailed his hands down my body, gentle and deliberate–my skin an ancient carving, his fingertips an artist’s charcoal capturing its relief. I lowered my hips to match his, guiding him to me, movement taking over my body as I pressed myself into him, sliding his length through me again and again. His low moans grew guttural. He was perfect–he was everything. Exhausted as we were, I wanted nothing more than to take fully of him until the first hint of morning light.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed into my ear, pushing my damp hair over my shoulder for full access to my neck. I felt his lips start kissing beneath my jaw and move down my tattoo–over the rose, the leaves that climbed towards the center of my neck, and down to the thorny vines reaching towards my collarbone. He took his time, lingering on the dip of the bone to my chest before his hands on my waist pulled me up so that my breasts fell directly over his face. His hands–gods, his hands–were squeezing gently, fingers caressing over the peaks before doing the same with his tongue. 

Gale’s breaths became quicker and he moaned into my skin as I pleasured myself with him, grinding my clit over the ridges of his cock, slick now with my desire. I was lost in him. My face was buried in his neck, my hips becoming the only alert part of my body. All the thoughts and worries in my head had given way to the carnal need I had for him, the ache I felt deep in my core as I looked upon his face. His neck was arched over the pillow, pushing his chin towards the ceiling as exhales and low moans escaped from his lips, the apex of his throat pulsing with each sound. The orb glowed a bright violet from the center of his chest and up his neck. A faint light even could even be seen beneath the skin of his face where the orb’s tendrils reached towards his eye. 

Gods, I loved this man. The curve of his lips when he smiled, the stray hairs that fell in front of his face no matter how many times he pushed them back, the freckle on his temple–I was certain there had never been a more exquisite man to walk the face of Toril. 

As if he could feel me staring, he opened his eyes and began to sit up, holding my waist as he moved me into his lap.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” he asked with a smile, and I nodded as I fervently kissed every inch of his face. “Let me take over, dearest. It was my idea, after all.”

“You said you were tired,” I said between kisses. 

“Mm… not anymore” he mumbled while my lips trailed over his. “Turn around.”

I did as he said. Still upright on my knees, eager hands found my waist as Gale pressed our bodies together and kissed the back of my neck and shoulders, his warm breath sending chills down my spine. One of his hands grabbed my breast while the other dropped between my legs. He ran a feather-light finger through the center, barely parting me. My body twitched in anticipation of his touch, but he only repeated the motion, softly chuckling into my shoulder.

“Gale,” I begged. “Please.”

I expected him to continue teasing me until I was pleading, but, to my surprise, he parted me with two fingers, swirling slow circles around my clit. My hips jerked of their own accord against his movements, and I could feel the climax growing inside me, threatening to come to the surface. I placed my hand on top of his, pulling it away.

“Not ready yet,” was all I managed to say, language suddenly nonexistent in my brain. 

“Okay, love.” Gale ran both hands down my sides and over my thighs, slowly and deliberately, until I was begging for him again. 

He slipped a hand between my legs from behind and pumped his long fingers into me. The breath hitched in my throat as I cried out, his fingers moving in and out at a sensual pace, eager but reveling in the moment. There was no way I could stay upright, so I lowered onto my elbows, positioning myself for him, watching him as best I could from over my shoulder as he continued.

“My beautiful girl,” he said with awe as he took in the sight of me spread fully before him. He removed his fingers from me, glistening wet, and sucked them into his mouth, humming in ecstasy, eyes rolled back like he was savoring a luxury meal. “How did I get so lucky?”

Rhetorical question or not, I had no time to answer before he pulled my hips closer to him and sank himself into me slowly. We moaned simultaneously, his cock pushing deeper until I had taken all of him. His first thrusts were tender, each of us relishing in every ridge, every sensation of each others’ bodies. An involuntary groan escaped my mouth each time he plunged into me, and I was thanking the gods that people were still celebrating outside the inn.

As much as I was enjoying the pure bliss of his unhurried pace, my body was begging for him to take me, all of me, with wild abandon. I found his rhythm, my hips bouncing along with his thrusting until he was slamming into me, my cries feral, his panting loud between moans. Gale pressed me into the mattress with a strong, loving hand on my back before taking full control and pounding into me, all caution gone, carnal desire overtaking him. I could feel sweat beginning to dampen his skin as he panted, huffing with exertion, grunting and moaning and losing himself in the moment. After several minutes of vigorous pounding, his pace began to slow, and he sank back to his knees. I rolled over to face him.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, catching his breath, orb pulsing with the beat of his heart. “I got carried away.”

“Never apologize.” I crawled towards him, gently pushing him onto his back. “I’m yours,” I whispered in his ear. “You can have me however you’d like.�� 

“Is that so?” he grinned and I nodded, dropping a kiss to his lips. “Then come here.”

His hands pressed into my thighs as he pulled me to kneel over his face, his tongue lapping and flicking as I held onto the headboard and tried to muffle the whimpering cries escaping my lips. My hips bucked beneath me, grinding against his face, dizzy with ecstasy and anticipation.

“Can’t… Gale… going to–”

The tight pressure in my core sprung loose. I cried out, gods only know how loud, as Gale held my thighs in place and drank from me deeply as I came. His own low moans vibrated against my already-spasming flesh, tongue still lapping against me as the wave of bliss began to subside and my limbs became impossibly heavy. Hypersensitivity made me squirm and whimper.

“Gale!” I pleaded between sharp gasps and yelps. He finally let go of my legs, a desperate desire on his glistening face when he emerged.

In one swift movement he had me on my back with a leg over his shoulder. I caught only a glimpse of his sculpted cock, stiff and flushed, before he thrust inside of me. His eyes roamed over my body, but settled on the dripping valley between my legs where he watched as he fucked me, biting his lip in concentration. 

I caressed his face, and he kissed the inside of my palm before melting into me with all his weight as he took everything he needed from me. Sweat coated his back where my legs wrapped around his hips. I held him close to me, his jagged breathing loud in my ears and hot on my neck. Wild thrusts took over his body until he unraveled, panting and gasping and crying out until he was spent. He collapsed on top of me and I hugged him close, his chest heaving against mine as we caught our breath.

“I love you,” I whispered, kissing his temple. “Thank you for choosing to stay. For choosing me.” 

Gale let out a long sigh before rolling onto the bed beside me and lacing his fingers through mine. “I love you, El. Although the word ‘love’ doesn’t feel like enough when it comes to my feelings for you,” he said, kissing my hand. “Unfortunately, my brain and body are currently too far gone to find a suitable alternative.”

I laughed and snuggled into his side. I felt safe. Secure. I knew Gale felt the same. We had no need to hide any parts of ourselves, no matter how flawed. We held each other as sleep closed in, our souls as bare as our bodies.

[chrrywvea]

a serotonin boost for today:

✨️imagine married lokius at a christmas market✨️

(or: my brain going haywire at 4 am for these two idiots & leaving me with this half fic half imagine-ramble-story thing)

mobius obsessing over all the little trinket shops

like immediately upon their arrival, he's over the moon

loki detests all the masses of people but nearly melts when he sees how mobius lights up

he does enjoy it later on as well, very much even

sharing mulled wine

butterfly kisses & red cheeks (loki i'm looking at you)

mobius wears the scarf loki made for him for his birthday (personal hc of mine: loki can crochet & knit insanely well)

mistletoes, so many mistletoes

snowflakes in loki's curls make him look even more mesmerising (mobius stop staring please)

mobius gets fairy lights for their apartment

loki shields his tiny husband from all the people bumping into everyone (inspo from the cutest gay couple i saw at the christmas market yesterday thanks guys♡)

they try out all the different food stands together

(since christmas markets tend to have lots of nordic food loki gets to teach mobius about his favourite dishes at home when he was a child)

mobius loves listening to loki anyway, no matter the topic, but hearing him speak so freely of the good aspects of his childhood always warms his heart

they search more quiet spots for breaks when they both get a little overwhelmed

loki sings (though this time only for his husband)

holding hands in each others coat pockets & hand kisses to warm cold skin up

beanies

they try on all the beanies in the whole market (mobius puts them on loki who eventually just surrenders to it)

in the end loki buys them real silly, matching ones (if any artists want to draw this, by all means, go ahead! i'd love that so much but i have zero talent when it comes to drawing)

loki drags mobius to the ice rink, the only thing he's weary of since he's never been ice skating before - but loki is there to help!

he's a pro at it, frosty heritage and stuff

yes i believe frost giants can ice skate really well shush

lots of laughter and banter ensue with mobius attempting to stay upright

the waist hold™ is now reversed to prevent mobius from falling on his butt

but honestly they were gonna be close anyway so

touchy touchy

mobius gets the hang of the whole ice skating ordeal and loki cheers him on when he manages one round around the rink on his own

though he completely rams into loki's back upon his return

when they tire out after a while they get more food, sit around one of the nearby bonfires and cuddle

star gazing when it gets dark & planning for christmas eve

they both sneakily buy gifts for one another when the other's busy with something

mobius gets a little tipsy

too many samples at the liquor shops oops

+ i might add more if anyone likes this but this is what came out for now, enjoy :-D