#they were too busy admiring all the pretty jewels on their hands and necks

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

DP x DC Prompt

This, but it's because their flight home was canceled due to Gotham's airport being destroyed. And they didn't want to drive all the way back.

The reason it all started was because Tucker was really bored and was getting a bit frustrated when he couldn't get past one of WE's many firewalls. He had already skimmed through everything else and concluded that Gotham's Brucie Wayne was a literal angel sent from heaven to one the worst cities in the world because he committed a crime so horrific that not even God could look him in his pretty little face anymore and that firewall proved it!

So to cool his head off, he decided to hack into a bank. Banks were pretty easy, right? Almost anyone could do it with just enough knowledge and the proper equipment. What he DIDN'T expect was just how EASY it was to do so. Laughably so, to the point it made him cry.

Did Gotham's rouges or Gothamites in general not like money? Not even the small-time rouges? Because he KNEW those operations that they try to pull off cost money. Shit tons!

So when his laughter became so disturbing that his friends and even his frenemies got concerned, all he had to do was show them what he found out. Which sent them spiraling into laughter as well. Like, c'mon, even Amity Park's bank was more secure than that and they only had fucking GHOST CRIME!

As the tears began to dry, and the laughter turned to giggles, one of the girls suggested something.

Star: Why don't we, like, rob it or something?

The hotel room went silent and Star started to fidget. Then she started to ramble.

Star: I mean like, we don't have to. It was kind of a joke anyway, since their security's so bad ya know, and I'm pretty sure we're gonna be here for a while and-

Dani: Star, baby, sweetie, honey. Why are you justifying yourself when we were all probably thinking the same thing, right?

Nod and hums of agreement filled the girl with relief.

Wes: Besides it's not a class trip unless we cause some trouble right?

They all then pilled into the bed and around Tucker as his finger flew across the keyboard.

Tucker: So, where are we hitting up first?

[aphrogeneias]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐧 — anal sex

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: use of a butt plug. anal fingering. slight dom/sub undertones. a tiny brat moment from reader.

"Feeling okay, honey?"

Lying on your stomach in the middle of the bed, you hummed a positive response. Steve was right behind you, big hands running up and down your bare back, kneading the meat of your hips, soothing you with his touch.

He learned down, crowding you with his broad body, and gently brushing your hair out of the way, leaving warm and wet kisses down the side of your neck, your shoulder, and making his way down your spine. Slowly and deliberately, the anticipation making you squirm in place.

When he stops, you almost forget how to breathe. You find that he'd positioned himself right behind you, lowering his torso until he was facing your ass, hands massaging the supple flesh of your cheeks. Your breathing got heavier with each touch, each movement.

"Can I take it out?"

You, once again, nodded. "Yeah. Please."

A small thing that's been tormenting you all night. A gift from Steve — a silver plug, adorned with a pink jeweled base. You'd mentioned you wanted to try it, and your boyfriend, as always, obliged. He put it in you before you left for the night, a night out at a new club, and you were almost regretting it, because you felt ready to explode all night.

The pressure was… something else. It didn't help that Steve took his time teasing you, and fingering you in the bathroom before you decided to all but drag him home.

Now, you were both naked and ready — but he was still taking his time with you.

Steve removed the plug slowly, and suddenly you felt too empty. His fingers teased your entrance, and though you were a little more open, his digits still felt some resistance on their way in. He slides one finger in, and then two, picking up speed.

"I wish you could see yourself right now. All eager, all pretty, and all for me. All mine." His voice was deep and rough with desire, and you couldn't see him, but you knew he was looking at you like he could eat you alive.

You'd let him. You wanted him to. "Mhm. All yours, baby."

Your pussy clenched around nothing, your hips ondulate to meet his fingers. It was too much and not enough, all at once. "I need more. I need you. Please, Stevie? Please, fuck me."

"Shhh. It's okay, honey. You gotta take my fingers first, okay? Take my fingers like a good girl, then you can have my cock."

You looked back at him, pouting over your shoulder. "I want your cock now."

A loud smack is heard through the bedroom. Steve laid a swift hand to your ass cheek, — the hand that was fingering you not hesitating for a second — leaving a tingling imprint behind.

"You'll have my cock when I give it to you. Be patient."

Whining, you relented. After what felt like an eternity, teetering on the edge of something more, but never enough to push you all the way, Steve pulled away. The emptiness made you moan, the feeling of something missing an overwhelming one. You hear him open a condom packet, and slide it on himself, and waited.

Next thing you knew, you were manhandled into your back, Steve towering above you. He positions himself between your spread thighs, pumping his cock with one hand, prepping himself with lube. This time, you're speechless, admiring him the only thing in your mind. His tousled hair, the pink flush on his skin, the freckles littering his tanned body.

"Wanna see your face when I fuck you."

He leaned down for a kiss, holding you by your neck. His kisses were languid, slow and tantalizing, letting you suck on his tongue and moan in his mouth whilst he thrusted in you, inch by inch. You stopped kissing him, too busy with the sensation, the strech eliciting a long gasp from you.

Forehead with forehead, Steve reassured you. "Doing so well, honey. I knew you could do it."

You planted your feet into the mattress beneath you just as he started to finally move his hips, sinking his cock in and out of you in earnest now. The stretch was unlike anything you felt before, melting you from the inside out, insides turned into a wildfire.

Steve held your body close, shallow thrusts and his own groans and whimpers coaxing your orgasm, your nails creating red trails on his back. Feeling your desperation, his fingers move to the small space between you, swiping them over your clit, and moving them down to your other entrance, gathering the slick there and sliding it up, using it to rub your clit in quick circular motions.

"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you? Gonna make a mess all over me, pretty girl? Huh?"

His voice was right beside your ear, nose nuzzling your cheek, and all you could do was frantically nos your head, whispering "yes, yes, yes" over and over as you felt your orgasm wash over you, a longer wave than usual. You shook in Steve's arms, clinging to him like he was your only salvation.

He hissed as he found his own release, spilling into the condom. You vaguely felt the warmth of it inside of you, and for a moment, you wished you could feel all of it, keep some to yourself. You didn't have time to think about it too much, as Steve pulled himself out of you, but not going too far.

The condom is disposed, knotted and thrown to the floor — a problem for the future you. The current you was still in Steve's arms, and he wasn't some with you quite yet. His fingers find your pussy once again, reaching down and spreading your entrance with two fingers, circling it, but not yet entering it.

"Now, I think this one deserves some attention too, don't you think?"

[praeluxius]

Kitten's Gift - Aespa Winter

18+ Aespa Winter x Male Reader Smut

Masterlist

Word Count: 5,500

In the centre of the breakfast bar by the door to your penthouse apartment, the purple silk ribbon is tied in a neat bow atop a flat square box—a dark object on a white granite canvas. 

A snowstorm is invading the heated penthouse. The door is where she enters, sweeping through the opening like a cold breeze of the season she’s named after—an ethereal figure dressed in white. Like freshly fallen snow, her skin glistens. Her legs and a slither of midriff are shown to you after she slips the long coat off her shoulders. She carelessly throws it onto a coat hook on the wall opposite you while sliding her shoes off her feet.

On the other side of the countertop, you stand ready to greet the love of your life. The apple of your eye. The stars to your night sky. There’s a certain irony in how cold your home feels when Winter isn’t there. For one whole week, you had been without her warmth, but you understand why she left—not everyone is invited to the main stage of Coachella.

“AH! What the hell are you doing just standing there?!” Winter jumped quite literally off her feet into the air in surprise. Her hands cover her mouth to hide her open jaw, a jaw as wide open as her eyes. The round jewels in her face contain a merry glint.

Her socks slip on the wooden floor as she wheelspins from her standing start, stumbling then stabilising. Winter runs around the counter and into your waiting arms. She pulls her body close to yours with her face buried into your neck and her arms under your own. She takes handfuls of your shirt behind your back. One week without her in your arms—and bed—was far too long.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t be home for another ten minutes?!” She looks up from your shoulder, her face just millimetres from yours, and her icy breath hits your lips. 

“Surprise,” you say with a soft smile.

“I’ve missed you so much. I hate that you couldn’t come with me. I missed your arms around me and other things.”

“It was hard to sit here and watch you on screen, but you did great. I’m sure it was amazing to watch the brilliant Winter up on stage doing her thing.”

A small giggle escapes her mouth in reaction to your compliment. “Don’t call me Winter at home. You know the names I prefer you to call me, but I did look good up there, right?”

“You always look good, Minjeong. Those guys—and girls—at the front got a perfect show in that outfit.”

“OH SHI—! My outfit!” Minjeong breaks your hug and looks down at herself. She is wearing her stage outfit from Coachella. “I was going to do a whole surprise reveal for you when you got home. I guess you ruined that.”

“Don’t worry; it had every effect on me you could have wanted. You’re unbelievably sexy, Minjeong.”

“I know.” She winks at you before twirling to give you a view from all angles. Thank physics for the centrifugal force that lifts her skirt up as she spins, her sculpted athletic legs on show from ankle to hip. Her slim waist becomes a blur of light flesh. Her smile has become a toothy grin as her face comes back into view. She was used to receiving all kinds of compliments from her members, fans and pretty much everyone she saw. The past week was no different. The compliments flooded in both in-person and online, but none of them affected her like one from your mouth.

Silently, you stand and admire her. Minjeong places her hand right in your face, her palm almost touching your nose and waves, so her fingers become a bur in front of your eyes. “Helllloooo?”

“Huh? What’s up?” you ask.

Her hand drops to her side, revealing her pouted lips. “I just asked if you missed me? Were you too busy checking me out?”

“Guilty,” you admit. Her pouted lips are just too tempting. It’s been a week since you tasted them, and you couldn’t wait any longer. The thin layer of satin pink lipstick will not last much longer. You finally provide an answer to her question through your kiss. Her lips meet yours in a slow, sensitive dance. You take hold of her face by cupping her cheeks. Similarly, Minjeong wraps her arms around your neck. You both pull each other close.

“Wow, you have missed me,” she says after breaking the kiss. “Do you want to show me just how much?”

Words were only obstructions to getting Minjeong to where you want her. You lift her onto the counter with a hand on each thigh. With legs locked around your hips, she holds you tight against her body. She invites you into her hot mouth. A ferocious assault begins. Your tongue tangles with Minjeong’s, clashing like two swords in a fencing match. Two equals set in a lustful fight born of passion. This lasts only until you concede, with the next step of your plan to come.

“I know how much you missed me, Minjeong, but I got my surprise for my little pet, and you’ve yet to acknowledge it.” you tease.

“Huh?”

“Take your eyes off me for a moment, and you’ll see it.”

She turns to the flat black box with the purple silk ribbon. “Oh, a gift for me? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re after something, and I might just give….” She grabs hold of your crotch. “It to you.”

“I think you should open it first.”

“I’ve already figured it out. It’s the necklace I picked out at the store when we were out last month.” Minjeong says with an arrogant tone in her voice.

“Oh, bless you.” You stroke her cheek, but her pouting face doesn’t flinch. Her lips purse, and her eyebrows furrow. “Silly kitten thinks she knows what it is.”

Her eyes open wide. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard.” Your hand moves down her cheek, slips down to her neck and squeezes lightly. “Kitten.”

“Well, daddy, Kitten doesn’t want to open the box.” She smiles smugly. Minjeong loves when the two of you play like this. Sometimes the two of you just need to fuck, anytime and anywhere. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve snuck off to bathrooms, closets, your car and hell, you even made her sing in a noraebang once. But when you had the time, you both enjoyed playing much more exciting games. 

“Kitten does what daddy says. Now open your present.”

“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head sharply.

Winter was very flexible in the roles that she takes in your private time, and this time she was reprising her favourite—the naughty kitten. You often wondered how netizens would react if they saw her like this. To see her act like a spoilt kitten who had one thing on her mind—to be fucked until there was nothing on her mind.

“Is my kitten forgetting who owns her? Maybe this gift is the perfect reminder.” You reach to your left, picking up the black box. You lean back slightly, just enough to hold the box between you, before pulling on the purple ribbon to loosen it. “Take the lid off now.”

She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed grunt. “Hmph. Okay.”

She lifts the box's lid slowly before tossing it to the side; the piece of cardboard skids across the counter before hitting the wall and falling to the floor. Minjeong lets a small smile slip as she looks down before returning to a blank expression. She refuses to show her excitement.

“Isn’t it great, kitten? It’s real leather, and the inside is full of soft faux fur, so it’s still comfortable when you wear it tight. Oh, and it has a loop here for your lead, but my favourite part is these custom tags I made just for you. Look, this one says 'Daddy's little kitty', and this one says 'Spoilt brat', and that one says 'Fucktoy'. Oh, and this is my favourite: 'Cumslut'. I think it suits you perfectly." 

Minjeongs upper lip quivers as she tries to hold back a smile. She takes a deep breath to compose herself.

"What if I don't want to wear that collar? You can't make me wear it. It isn’t my style."

"Your style is whatever I say it is, Minjeong. If I want to put a collar on my pet, I put it on. If I want my pet to have a fluffy tail, she will have a fluffy tail. And, when I want my pet naked, she will be naked. Understand?"

"And if I want to go take a nap, I will. I'm not wearing the collar; it just isn’t my style. Maybe you can just get me some outfits for next year's Coachella? And maybe you can bother to come with me next time!" She lifts her right leg right over your head to turn away and then slides off the counter in a dazzling display of agility.

"Listen here, Minjeong. Only good little kittens get treats. And, well, naughty kittens get punished. Next year's Coachella won't happen if you don't treat daddy right because naughty kittens stay in the house. It's up to you." As you speak, you move across the room and into her path.

"Ha, you really think you can keep me here? You can't stop my company from sending me wherever I want."

You grab her hand as she attempts to pass you and then pull her into your arms. She doesn’t return your hold and opts to pout with her arms by her side.

"You know full well that you aren't international superstar Winter when you're in here. You're my Kim Minjeong—kitten, fucktoy, cumslut. Now get on all fours on the couch, little kitty."

"Make me. So far, you're all talk and no action.” She pushes you back away from her. “I knew I should have just found some hot guy at Coachella to fuck my brains out." She had no limits when it came to incurring your wrath. Her mouth was a weapon to spur you into action.

"How fucking dare you even tease about another man. You know that no one there that could satisfy you as I do. Kitty's got an itch only I can scratch." You grab winter by her hair. A whine escapes the lips of her shocked face as you throw her down to the couch and her face plants into the leather. 

"Maybe I wanted to taste something different, drink someone else's milk?" she says, looking over her shoulder with a smirk. Though the fabric of her white skirt may soften the blow, you know there's only one way to tame a naughty kitten. A firm spank on the right cheek of Minjeong’s ass sends a ripple down her thigh. 

"Naughty kitty needs a lesson in treating her daddy right."

"This is supposed to be a punishment? And it seems like someone is jealous. There were so many handsome hot, sweaty bodies that were just aching to fuck me at Coachella.” Minjeong pauses for a moment to place her hand on her thigh. She runs her hand up her legs and lifts her skirt to expose the flesh of her ass. “If you had come with me, I wouldn’t have had to think about all those guys. We wouldn’t have this problem.”

"Yes, all of them desperate to fuck you, I'm sure, while you run around on stage with your short skirt, showing skin to everyone.” You take hold of her other thigh with a firm grip and slide your hand up her slim legs to the hem of her skirt. You lift the other side of her dress a little further and reveal that she’s not wearing underwear.

“But you know that even if you wanted to, you can't fuck any of them. You are daddy's little kitty." You strike this time on her left cheek, harder than the first. An audible grunt forms inside Minjeong's mouth and her smirk turns into a grin as you continue, "No matter how horny you were, you knew that only daddy can satisfy you." The third strike matches the second in strength, back to her right cheek.

"How often did you sit here and jack off to me in this outfit? How badly did you want just to ruin me?” She pauses to bite her lip while she raises her ass slightly from the couch, shaking it side to side lightly. “Am I yours? It seems like nothing was stopping me from filling my hole with whatever Californian dick I wanted."

"You're such a fucking whore. A cock hungry little slut. But we both know you spent those nights at Coachella touching yourself, thinking of my cock pounding kitty's little pussy. One week without daddy, you must be dripping wet." You wind up for another strike to her ass, and Minjeong closes her eyes in anticipation. Instead, you fake her out, placing your hand between her legs, right over her crotch. The warmth of her core envelops your hand. You pull her up, lifting her hips further from the couch. "I feel how warm and wet you are. I feel how needy my little kitty is."

Minjeong just smirks. You never noticed her retrieve her phone, which she now held in her right hand. With a flick of her thumb, she begins an audio recording. “Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck! So this is what American dick is like? Tell me, how much did you like our performance? Hmm. Hmm. Oh shit, right there."

In an instant reaction, you spank her ass again and hold nothing back as you force a yelp from Minjeong's mouth. "You fucking whore! You think this is funny?" You snatch the phone from her hand while she rubs the pain on her ass.

"What are you going to do now? Because you might call me kitten, but the only pussy here is you."

You stop the clip and throw the phone across the room. She had pushed the limit now. "I'm going to show you what a real cock is like. I'm going to use this dirty little kitten as a fucktoy and then leave her in a mess. Now put your fucking collar on." 

You grab the collar from the table, unbuckle it and then take it to Minjeong's neck. Her hands try to stop you, but you overpower her and pin her arms under your knees as you climb over her. She lies helplessly on the couch. You step over to grab the lead you had hidden in the room. You fasten it to the collar and pull her through the house into the bedroom, making her walk on all fours, dragging her faster than she could keep up.

"Wait! Slow down—I—I'm sorry! The clip was a fake—!" Minjeong stops her pleas as you yank on the collar, and she scrambles to keep up. 

Ignoring her meaningless words, you drag her to your bedroom. "You think that was funny, huh? Well, Kitten's going to be punished until she begs for forgiveness. Now sit!"

Minjeong wanted to rile you up, but maybe she took it too far? But the truth is, it was exciting. To her, limits were made to be pushed, and your skin was made to get under. 

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry." she sits on her knees obediently and lowers her head down in shame as you take your place on the end of the bed.

"Your words aren't enough, kitty. You're going to show me how sorry you are. Take your top off and tell me what you are."

She does as you tell her. "I'm daddy’s little kitten."

You grab her face by the chin, making her look up at you. "And now your bra. And tell me what else you are." Minjeong unclasps her bra and lets it fall from her arms. "I'm your spoilt brat." "Good. Now take off the rest. And keep talking." 

Minjeong pushes her skirt down from her waist to her knees before adjusting to remove it entirely. She returns to sitting on her knees in front of you. "I'm your fucktoy.” You pull upwards on her lead, bringing her face closer to yours and making her sitting position uncomfortable. "That's better, my little kitten. But, my kitten only has her collar; she still needs her ears and tail."

"Yes, Daddy." You slack the lead to allow her to crawl over to the wardrobe, which she then slides open. After retrieving her ears from your box of toys, she places them on her head, then takes the fluffy tail—carried in her mouth—and brings it to your feet. Minjeong drops it and turns around, so her ass is facing you. She stretches forward with her palms flat on the floor, leaving her ass in the air. "Would you like to put it in me?"

"You're mine, and don't you ever forget it. A kitten belongs to her owner." You prepare her tail with a drop of lube from the bottle in the drawer by your bed. You hold it right outside her puckered hole, the cold liquid touching her skin and making her squirm. "You're forgetting the fourth tag; what else are you?" 

"I'm you're cumslu—AH!" Without warning, you slip the plug into her ass, and her hole swallows the toy right up to the flared end.

“Ah! Daddy! Fuck, that was fast!” Minjeong pants heavily in reaction to the sudden stimulation in her ass. “Fuck… I haven’t used my ass in over a week. It’s so tight. You should have warned me.”

"You don't get a choice. I will use my kitten however I want after she's been such a naughty girl. I'm going to stuff whichever hole I want." You slap her ass again, slightly red from earlier. "Now turn round and sit." 

She sits on her knees again and places her hands by her face like paws. The collar hugs her neck tightly. The cute little ears sit atop her hair, and the fluffy tail trails behind her. "I'll be your good kitten. I'm your little fuck toy, and you can use me however you want."

"Use that tongue and sassy mouth of yours, kitten, suck my cock. I'm going to stuff your naughty mouth."

Minjeong leans forward towards your crotch, reaching for your trousers. Her ass rises to the air, and she shakes it a little. The tail from her plug sways in the air. She doesn’t use her fingers and instead paws away at your trousers until she pulls your zip down slowly. She uses her mouth to undo the buttons on your jeans. After an arduous task, finally, your kitten can pull down your trousers. Minjeong purrs with excitement as your cock springs free.

“This is the only cock you will ever need, kitten. Play with your favourite toy.”

She looks up at you with innocent eyes, refusing to speak and pretending to be confused by your demands, as she is far too immersed in her role. "Here, little kitten," you say as you push your cock closer to her mouth. With a confused look, she sticks out her tongue to give a tiny lick on your tip. Again and again. She repeats like she's playing with a toy. 

"Only good girls get to play. Naughty girls have to please their daddy." Standing slightly from the bed, you push forward, placing your cock between her plumped lips. Her tongue goes into overdrive on the end of your cock as she sucks gratefully. You return to your seat on the bed. Minjeong’s mouth chases your cock, adamant in her refusal to let it escape her mouth. 

"That's my good girl. My pleasure always comes first, especially after the naughty shit you pulled today, your sass, that recording, earn my forgiveness, kitten."

Minjeong always knew what was needed when she had been a brat. She needed to make it up to you and quick. She barely stops for air as she bobs her head on the end of your cock at an increasing pace. Her tongue moves wildly around the head of your cock—her playful side never leaves her. She grazes her teeth lightly on the side of your cock. "No kitten, be careful. You don't want to be punished further." The corners of her lips upturn slightly. She knew exactly what she was doing.

She pounces up onto the bed next to you. You shuffle back and lie down flat against the silk sheets. Minjeong is on all fours again, her head right above your cock. She knew that her only option was to pleasure you so she could receive her reward.

Minjeong cups your balls in one hand before placing her head right over your cock and then sinking it onto your twitching length. Her head moves fast—eager and full of energy. She sucks your cock with all her strength. Slowly, she moves her legs toward you until they're right beside you and then places one leg on the other side of your chest. Her fluffy tail is above you; the plastic fitting stretches out her asshole. Through the valley created by her slim thighs and perky tits, her head continues to bob rapidly on your cock.

You grab hold of her tight ass above your head with a firm grip, kneading her flesh as you desire. You use a finger to wiggle the plug inside her asshole. The pleasure only encourages her to work harder on you, taking your cock further into her mouth with each head bob.

"Take it all, kitten. This is your punishment. Take all of my cock until my first load is shot into your slutty mouth."

Minjeong struggles for air but doesn't fight against her need to suck your cock. Coughs and splutters occasionally interrupt her rhythm, but she knows what she must do and only increases her pace each time it falters. The blowjob becomes messier and louder; the wet sounds of her mouth are all that can be heard in the otherwise silent room.

"I'm going to cum! Fucking take it, kitten!"

The sloppy sounds stop. You fill up her mouth with your hot liquid. Her mouth is full. Her throat is full. "A good kitten doesn't waste a drop of milk." Acknowledging your words, she holds the seal of her lips around your cock. Each spurt she swallows only draws more out of you. If she's not careful, she's going to suck you dry. She stops just in time. You save some for her second filling. Because the best way to tame a pussy? Fill it with cum.

"What do you say to Daddy for you feeding you such a tasty meal, kitten? What do you say to Daddy's generosity, even when you're being a brat?"

Minjeong crawls around in a circle on the bed to bring her face close to yours. "Thank you, daddy, for treating me so well. I'm so sorry for being a naughty kitten." You scratch her head behind her ears. This brings out a smile, and then she nuzzles her face into your chest. A false sense of security, a wall you break down as you take hold of her hair and pull her face back up to yours. "But you know I'm not finished." 

She allows a wide grin to fill her face. "I'm sorry, daddy, you can punish me more. You can teach me a lesson. I've been a bad kitten. Use me. Use my body for your pleasure. Do anything you want to your little kitten. Fill me up. Fucking breed me, now."

You let out a soft growl at that last part. "Oh? Does my kitten think she deserves my seed? Do you deserve to have your pussy stuffed with all of my load?"

"Daddy, please let me take it for you. I want you inside me. I want you to fill me. You deserve it." She continues to paw at your chest. "Please put it in me. Fill. Your. Kitten."

"If I breed you, that'd be the end of your idol career. I don't think you're serious. And you know Daddy doesn’t like it when you lie."

"I don't care about any of that shit right now. Winter is an idol, but Minjeong is your cumslut" She purrs into your ear, which blends into a soft moan. Realisation sets in that she has been rubbing herself while talking to you. 

Minjeong continues, “I want your hard cock inside me. I want you to pump me full." Her dirty words trigger blood to fill your length again, something Minjeong realises. "Mmmm, does daddy like hearing how badly his kitty wants to be filled?"

"Keep talking, kitten. Tell me how fucking desperate you are for my cock and my cum. And stop rubbing yourself. You don't pleasure yourself, only I pleasure you, got it?"

"Oh, have I been a bad kitten again? Oh noooo. Does that mean you're going to punish me?" Minjeong rubs herself faster, whining into your ear. "Go on, daddy. I've been such a naughty kitty. You better punish me. Punish me by filling me up. Use me."

Growling again, you grab her wrist to prevent her from rubbing herself. "I told you to stop. You fucking brat." You lunge at her and take control. You climb on top of her and ‌kiss her roughly on the lips while palming at her breasts. Meanwhile, you use your other hand to hold both of hers above her head.

Minjeong writhes under you, struggling against your hold. "Oh, is daddy getting mad? Go on. Get angry with me, daddy. Your kitten has been so naughty. You should be furious. Maybe next time I will get some real American cock and see how you punish me. Would you breed me then?"

That did it. Absolutely livid beyond belief, you take your hand from her breasts and jam two fingers inside her pussy. Her slick juices that have been building since she entered the apartment allow you to slide right in. The sudden action took Winter by surprise. You were going to break her, break her so much she'd never pull this shit with you again.

"AH! What the fuck?!" She lets out a shriek in shock. After several pumps with your finger into her tight cunt, she stops squirming and submits to you. "Oh yes, go on. Stretch me out." A third finger and an increased pace make her unable to speak. Her tight little cunt suffocates your fingers as you stretch her walls. A fitting punishment for such a naughty kitten. No longer fighting your will, her arms go limp above her head, no longer need to restrain her. Your free hand pushes one of her flexible legs out to the side. You to reach around to her ass. You apply pressure to the plug, moving it around to serve a course of pleasure with a little pain on the side.

"Is this what you want kitten?"

A waterfall of syllables falls from her mouth but none of them makes sense. What does make sense is the look of pleasure on her pretty face. Minjeong’s eyelids flutter as she struggles to keep her eyes open under the pressure you apply inside her. "Are you mine? Am I going to use you? Tell me." 

She uses all her strength to muster a single word: "Yes."

"Louder. Are you mine? Am I going to use you? Fucking tell me. Who do you belong to?" you say aggressively.

"YES, YES, YES! I'm your naughty little kitten, and you're going to fucking use me because I've been so naughty! Please fuck me. Your kitten needs it."

You smirk. This is what you lived for, to watch her break down and crumble before you. You inch closer and closer to her wanton hole with your cock, just stopping shy of entering. You take great pleasure in teasing her further. Her dripping pussy leaks onto the bed in excitement for her filling. "Daddy, please!" Minjeong pleads.

"You really deserve my cock? Why don't you head back to America and get yourself a fucking California cock, huh? Isn't that what you wanted? Why do you need my cock, kitten?"

Her bratty defences had utterly broken down; nothing more than her hunger for your cock fueled her words. "All the cocks in America couldn't please me as yours does. I need punishment for everything I ever said. Please, please, please fill me." Her hands grab your shoulders, and her claws dig into your skin. "Please stop teasing me. Your kitten needs filling."

You finally insert your cock into Minjeong's begging pussy—savouring the sensation of finally breaking her. 

"MHMM! Daddy! I've been so bad… Fuck me."

And ruin her you will. There's no holding back, just animalistic instincts as you pound into her. Your stiff cock stretches her tight hole. The lubed plastic plug inside her ass only creates an extra obstacle to blow past as you dig deep inside her. "How's that kitten? Is your tight pussy stuffed full?" 

"Yes, daddy—what are you—?" 

You stop for a moment, hold her in place, and pull back, so only the tip is inside her. "This is for not putting your own collar on." You slam hard into her, to the hilt, hitting your crotch against her tight ass. 

"This is for lying to me." Another hard pump, and she lets out a squeal as you fill her again. 

"This is for the audio clip." Another one. Deeper again. Minjeong lets out a scream followed by a whimper. You hit her cheek lightly, then grab her face by her cheeks, making her look at you. "You're such a naughty little slut, aren't you? Say it." 

"I'm a naughty slut. Your dirty little kitten. Your fuck toy. Your cum slut." 

Incensed by her expressed desire to be filled with your cum, you continue, “you're not fucking going to Coachella next year because I'm going to fucking breed you. Your shit today made me realise I need to tame you, mark you as mine properly."

You take both of her legs, stretching her into a full spit—a position someone so flexible can quickly achieve. Your cock reaches into the depths of her tight pussy, your hips slapping against her submissive body each time you slam forward. 

"Go on, daddy, fill me up. I don't give a fuck about my contract rules, the comebacks, the performances, just fucking fill your little kitten." Minjeong pulls her own legs higher so her knees are on either side of your upper body. She wraps her legs around you to place the heels of her feet into the small of your back. She pulls you into her, begging you never to leave. "Go as deep as you can, daddy, all the way in." You press forward into her tight pussy, her walls clasping your cock. She fits you like a glove, one you've worn plenty of times but still fits as snugly as ever around you.

The metal tags on her neck play a simple tune as they rattle together—her shaking body allows the makeshift instrument to provide the backing track to her high notes.

You bury your head into her neck and concentrate on the chase to your high. Minjeong’s sweet nothings fill your ear between her high-pitched moans and rattling collar.

Right there… Harder… Give it all to me.

Go on… Faster… Fill me…

Cum in my tight pussy… Please… Breed me.

The pressure in your body becomes too much. Your seal breaks, and your second load is released into her body. In response to the feel of your cum inside her, Minjeong reacts with her own cum, a satisfying orgasm in sync with your own. The pressure of two synchronous loads inside Minjeong's pussy almost pushes you out, but you dig deep and allow your cum to fill her up. Spurt after spurt of your hot lead filled her tight pussy.

“Oh my god, yes! You filled me up! It feels so good to have you inside me. I am yours, daddy. I fucking love having you cum inside me.” 

You don’t respond right away, with your head buried in her neck. You let out a few grunts as you force yourself to pump a final few times inside her, milking your cock inside your kitten.

“Are you sorry now, kitten?” 

“I am sorry, daddy, but I don’t regret what I made you do. I can’t believe you filled my tight pussy.”

You let your body roll off of Minjeong’s and take your position by her side in the bed. Both your chest and hers heave up and down in sync. Nothing but pants fill the room until you both fall into silence. Minjeong is the first to speak. “Daddy, if I go break something, can you fuck my ass next?

[hanayumi]

Yandere Koko that showers darling with money and affection but darling doesn't want to spend his money because they're scared,,,,, <\3

aHHAHH!!! i like the way you think ;)

tw yandere, sugardaddy vibes, slight insecurity on the reader’s part but writing this made me so soft eugh

“k-kokonoi…” your voice rings out as a quiet, meek whisper, much to your own dismay (strange, it always seems to catch in your throat when he’s around).

you’re as stiff as a pole in this position but he seems quite the opposite — with his arms slotted around your hips, chin resting on your shoulder, the both of your reflections staring back at you in the full-length mirror. it’s stifling. it’s almost like he knows that you hate when he dresses you up like this. elegant gowns and intricate jewellery are not your style, they were never your style. (more like you never had the liberty to afford them anyway, because you’ve always had your hands full with scraping at funds and making ends meet…)

but all of that’s gone now, thanks to him.

you should be grateful, that glinting, tear-shaped crystal weighing like steel on your collarbone whispers. he breathes out a shuddering sigh, as if caught in a daze somehow, and the smell of perfume fills your nostrils (rose with a hint of sweetness, not choking or pretentious but mild and refined — he chose well); you swallow. you should be grateful. and you are. you are.

he’s given you everything a girl could ever want, really. and you’re grateful, because god knows where you’d be if he weren’t there to extend his help to you that day… dead in a ditch somewhere, maybe. because your parents couldn’t give a damn even if their own flesh and blood got caught up in their own debts. kokonoi hajime, tall and handsome with millions of cash at his disposal — he’d stepped in and saved you without a speck of hesitation. can you believe it? no, even after so many months since he’s taken you in, a part of you still can’t.

it was uncalled for. a miracle. an act of kindness. you’re so grateful.

it’s just…

“kokonoi,” you try again, a little louder this time, barely catching the attention of the man clinging to your waist. he’s too busy staring—no, admiring—the pretty jewels that adorn your neck, the shiny things worth more than you could ever comprehend, that honestly make you want to hide away every time he comes home with a new pair. he burns through thousands of cash like it’s absolutely nothing. it’s something you’ve grown accustomed to, as unnerved as it made you since the beginning; as much as it lit a fire in your bones watching him throw chunks of gold away as if you hadn’t worked your ass off everyday to even earn a fraction of what he has.

something small like this wouldn’t make a dent in his fortune anyway.

he’s content, sated, with holding you like this — fingers tip-toeing over the soft silk draped over your curves, massaging your flesh through the fine fabric, hooded eyes drinking up the sight of you, all dolled up for him. he is seemingly unaware of (or ignoring) your quiet pleas. at least he’s satisfied, you think, biting your lip to keep from squirming.

“hajime.”

his voice is smooth as satin when he corrects you (so he was listening). there’s a beat of silence as if he’s expecting you to echo his name, so you do, just above a whisper. hajime. he hums in approval; you’re learning.

his index finger trails downwards, teasing at the curve of your hipbone through the dress, then moving further up — feeling, counting every rib of yours as it ascends, through the thin and smooth fabric. goosebumps feather up on your forearms as you tense up. he halts.

“what’s wrong, my dear? you don’t look too happy.”

“i am! i am happy. i-it’s just, well,” you begin, but already the words are dying in your throat from how intently he’s staring at you through your reflection — with a flicker of concern in those pretty eyes, like he’s concerned that all the luxuries he’s handed to you are somehow not enough to make you happy. (oh how wrong he is)

you gulp in a breath, trying to calm your thudding heart, and when you close your eyes all you can recall is the king-sized bed with silken sheets, the walk-in closets lined with lush clothing, the wine-red steaks that make up plenty of your dinners, the gold-legged ottoman that he always tells you to rest your feet on, minutes before he offers you a massage…

“i haven’t really, um, earned any of this...” your eyes dart to the mirror, giving yourself a hesitant once-over, as if ascertaining that yes, you truly don’t fit in this dress. never mind that it’s hand-tailored and custom-made as per his specifications, never mind that if anyone from your old neighbourhood were to see you now they’d no doubt mistake you for some well-to-do aristocrat.

he gives it all, gives everything, to you in spades — his money and his love and his heart and you haven’t earned a single thing.

oh, but you have, he wants to say, but he settles for a questioning hum.

(he never told you about the deal struck with your parents in exchange for freeing their crippling debts — their precious, adoring daughter’s hand in marriage — without any interference, cutting ties forever. as long as you’d be his without objection whatever cash he’d have to dish out didn’t matter. that, and they never deserved you anyway.

…actually, he never tells you about a lot of things, but he figures he likes to keep you in the dark that way — quiet, pliant, always giving in to him. it makes things easier.)

you frown when he doesn’t reply, straining a little against his grip. the reflection in the mirror, the girl who radiates elegance and beauty — it doesn’t feel like you. it looks like a replica that makes you so disgusted that there’s bile piling at the back of your throat. is that really you? have you done anything to deserve this? your heart continues pounding in your chest, suddenly everything feels wrong—

aren’t you just leeching off of him, for god’s sake?

“hey, look at yourself.”

one hand cups your jaw, so gentle that it makes you wince. he tilts your chin up, so your gaze aligns with your reflection instead of the wooden floorboards, and presses a lingering kiss to your hair. “you’re gorgeous,” he breathes. a calloused thumb rubs your cheek; you squeeze your eyes shut.

“i don’t… i’m n-not—” you slump in his grip, a tremor starting to creep into your voice. “you shouldn’t have to do this for me.”

it’s his turn to frown.

wordlessly, he angles your head towards his, bringing your lips to his. your eyes pop open. soft. his lips are soft when they melt against yours. like stealing your breath away with every muted groan, with every lick his tongue gives at your bottom lip. you smell a tinge of his sweet cologne, taste his favourite red wine in his mouth, and oddly, it makes you feel at ease… how does he do that?

eventually he pulls away, but not without leaving you flushing from head to toe and gasping for air. see? he nods his head at the mirror. you steal a glance at the reflection — rosy cheeks, reddened lips glistening with spit, glittering necklace, and a man who looks like he wants to make you all his.

gorgeous.

“everything i do, i do for you alone,” he tells you softly. “your desires are my desires.”

he dips his head, lips brushing against your ear and nipping, albeit tenderly and the action has a soft gasp leaving your lips. “of course, i won’t stop you if you’d like to repay me sometime.”

[adorablele]

perfume

↬ member: lee donghyuck x reader ↬ genre: suggestive, party!au ↬ wc: 1215 ↬ summary: haechan is obsessed with your neck ↬ a/n: happy haechan day! I don’t have much to say about this drabble aside from the fact that this idea stemmed from reddit and tiktok :)

trigger warning(s); mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, they/them pronouns were used but this drabble was created with a female reader in mind

“Who are you looking for, Hyuck?”

Donghyuck darted his attention to Jisung who had asked him the question. He placed his hands in his pockets and answered, “No one.”

Jeno snorted before taking a sip from his red cup of alochol. 

“We all know that that’s a lie,” Renjun deadpanned. 

Donghyuck didn’t pay his friends any mind and surveyed around the area of the living room. As usual, Chenle’s house was filled to the brim with friends, friends of friends, strangers; all of whom were either dancing, drinking, kissing or a combination of all three. There were occasional people sitting or leaning against the walls vibrating from the music, but none of those things were important to Donghyuck.  

Jaemin joined them by the beer pong tables and smirked, “Bet he’s looking for Y/N.”

“Yeah, apparently they’re supposed to be here tonight,” added Chenle who followed right alongside Jaemin.

“Are you finally planning to make a move,” Mark queried, “because I cannot stand the tension between the two of you any longer.”

Chuckles of agreement were shared in the group. In response, Donghyuck gave a look of disdain to all them, but before he could say anything, Jisung perked up.

“Hey Y/N!”

There you were, walking towards him and his friends with glimmering eyes. 

“Hey guys,” you greeted, smile bright as you looked at him, “hey Haechan.”

“Hi,” he responded, heart thumping at the nickname. 

Donghyuck had no clue as to what you were discussing with his friends, for he was much too distracted by the silk white tank top you were wearing. The noodle straps did nothing but accentuate your bare neck that was adorned by a necklace. One day at the mall, he commented how nicely you would wear that necklace, but nicely was much of an understatement. 

You brush back some hair over your shoulder, feeding him with a wider view of your exposed skin. His eyes traced the necklace down to your collarbone and he swallowed, hard.

He thinks back to earlier that week when he was in class with you. While he was taking his exam, he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye. It was you, squirming in your seat right across from him. The zip-up sweater╾one that he leant to you which was why it was a bit big on you╾slipped off one of your shoulders. You proceeded to push back your hair and expose the sweet skin of your neck╾untouched, unmarked, in full view of him. Your hand rubbed along the muscles in your neck to relieve them of discomfort that was, presumably, caused by the long hours of sitting at a desk.

Donghyuck snapped out of his daze when he got slapped on the back. Jeno smiles at him, “Well I’ll be going too, Jaemin needs a beer pong partner.” before fully leaving, however, Jeno quickly whispers, “You’re drooling.”

Hyuck was quick to close his mouth. Luckily, there was no actual drool, but unluckily, he was stuck here with you. Everyone had already dispersed throughout the house to partake in different activities. 

“I’m going to go get a drink,” he excused, hoping to escape away to the kitchen. His plan would’ve worked if you hadn’t decided to tag along. 

The two of you made your way into the kitchen, secluded away from everyone. Hyuck busied himself with plucking two red cups from the stack sitting on the counter. He poured the drinks and handed one cup to you. 

When you took it, he smiled before sipping from his own cup. You smiled back, but it was smile that Donghyuck was apprehensive about. There was something about the glint in your eyes that didn’t sit well with him. Perhaps escaping to the kitchen, alone, with you wasn’t the greatest of ideas. 

“How do you like the necklace?” 

His gaze only loitered back in that dangerous area for a split second. “It looks good,” he replied, eyes wandering around the kitchen as he sipped again from his drink. 

“Just...good?” you asked with a lilting voice. 

He blinked, watching closely as your hand caressed the heart shaped jewel hanging from your neck.

“It’s just good?” you said with a small pout, “but I wore it just for you.”

Just for you. That was all Donghyuck could think about, all that he could hear; such dangerous words that were close to starting a fire within him. He needed a drink. When he went to take a swig from his cup, however, it was empty. 

“I-” was all he could utter, face warming at the intense stare from you.

You laugh and let go of your necklace, “I’m teasing Haechan!”

There you were again, calling him a nickname no one else did. 

“Oh,” was all he could say. He turned around to pour himself another drink.

“I got new perfume,” you mentioned, “the same day I got this necklace.”

It was quiet for a moment before you added, “Do you want to smell it?”

The question caught Donghyuck off guard. It led to his eyes being glued to the conjunction between your neck and your shoulder. He knows he should say no. He knows that he should make an excuse to get out of this stuffy kitchen, any excuse, say anything to get him out. Instead, he finds a hoarse ‘yeah’ graveling off of his tongue. 

For a brief second, you were taken aback by his response, almost as if you didn’t think that he would actually say yes. You mask it quickly, though, and place your cup down on the counter. Donghyuck follows suit. He then moves closer to you, heat radiating from both of your bodies. His heart beats faster with each centimeter that lessens between the two of you. Finally, he catches a whiff of your perfume, and he’ll be damned if it isn’t the most heavenly thing he’s ever smelled. 

He inhales deeply, “You smell amazing.” His voice is a little lower, a little huskier. 

Your breath hitches. Neither of you move for a good second. 

He then drags his fingers under your necklace, the metal laying atop his hand as he gently slides his slim digits from your shoulder down to your chest. When he gets to the pretty little heart at the center of the chain, he grips it and tugs ever so gently. 

You let out the tiniest of a whimper at the gesture which he pauses at, a small smirk forming at the edge of his mouth. He leans in until his nose is touching your skin and he relishes the way you intake a sharp breath. He hums, slowly making his way up from your chest. He stops at your ear, hot breath tingling your senses. Once more, he tugs on your necklace, a little harsher this time which results in another whimper. 

He chuckles, “You like that?’

“Mhm,” you hum. 

Donghyuck lets go of your necklace and uses the same hand to softly wrap around your jaw. He gently turns you towards him, admiring the haze in your eyes, lids drooping, lips parted slightly. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jawline, “all dolled up for me.”

“Please,” you whisper, “kiss me haechan.”

That was all he needed for the fire in him to ignite. 

[wangshuus]

no love left | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: diluc ragnvindr/gn. reader

genre: angst

wc: 3.2k

cw: mild cussing, brief mentions of violence, probably lore breaking too lol. 

summary: falling out of love is painful but maybe it’s what you needed.

note: please read the authors note after the story ESPECIALLY if you’re confused because i’ve implemented a few odd aspects into this story. i was just typing out whatever so essentially it’s more word vomit (again lol) but uhh yeah. most of the important stuff is at the bottom so like i said before, read that authors note at the end!!

lightly proofread, please don’t mind any errors

fic below the cut.

When the esteemed bachelor Diluc Ragnvindr finally settled down with a lover, the news did not fail to spread across Mondstadt like a wildfire. It was the talk of town for who knows how long but as time passed, the people settled down and the buzz eventually died but no one ever failed to acknowledge the young Ragnvindr and his beloved when they were together. Although the two preferred to keep a composed look to the public eye, the admiration they held for each other burned as bright as a summers day in their eyes at all times when they were together; from that alone, anyone could tell they were in love

So where did it all go wrong?

You sat across from Diluc at a table in the winery, the air thick with a suffocating tension that felt like it was going to swallow you whole at any minute now. Your hands rested on the table in front of you as you barely managed to keep your hands from trembling as a storm of emotions stirred inside of you as you felt your composure on the brink of cracking any second. You decided to finally break the silence as you spoke up, a slight tremble in your voice.

“What is it Diluc? Huh? I was hoping you’d have the decency to speak up about whatever the hell is going on instead of leaving me in the dark but it’s been far too long now. Now tell me Diluc, what’s going on?”

Oh the way your words slipped from your mouth made the room feel so cold, even if you didn’t wield a vision of any sorts. Diluc took a deep breath before he decided to speak up.

“What went on between the two of us was purely business.” Was the simple statement he gave.

Was?

“They’ve shown themselves to be quite the individual, wielding good etiquette with both business and a weapon.” He spoke out once more.

“God sake Diluc you’re fucking stalling at this point. You know what, I’ll make it easier for you. Do you still love me?”

There was a pause. A long painful pause. You already had your answer.

“(Y/n), I still care for you more than you can ever imagine, I truly do.”

The words felt like knives piercing through your form and from that, you felt the first tear slip down your face.

“Diluc, are you even aware of how terrible I feel in this situation right now? I’m watching my lover from a far doing lord knows what and you expect me to just tolerate it? I trusted you enough which is why I never pried at it but fuck Diluc, it’s just unbearable at this point.”

“I never did act upon anything in fears of making the situation worse--” You cut him off.

“Making the situation worse huh? So you were out here trying to do some crowd control weren't you? Was if for the sake of not hurting me or or for the sake of not tainting your pristine reputation?”

“I said before, I really do care for you still.” His hand reached towards your own as he held your hand with utmost gentleness. You were almost convinced he still loved you as much as he did in the past.

“However, I can’t deny that our dynamic has indeed changed. I…” His grip on your hand tightened.

“I can’t lie to you and say that I love you the way I did before.”

There it was.

“You don’t look at me the way you used to, you know? Your eyes used to be so full of love whenever you looked at me but that look is reserved for someone else now, isn’t it? You’ve looked at me with nothing but sorrow and pity nowadays and I guess my assumptions of the worst were correct.” You said as your voice trembled even more.

You wanted to pull your hand away so badly, the hand that once brought you such warmth now felt as if it was searing your skin. But you couldn’t. Not when this was mostly likely the last time you’d ever feel such an intimate touch from him. You found yourself to be conflicted as to whether you wanted to pull away out of pure frustration or savour the moment as it could be the last of him you would ever get to have for yourself.

“(Y/n), from the bottom of my heart, I’m truly sorry. I’ve loved you for so long and you’ve given me more love than I could’ve ever imagined. I never wanted things to change but I suppose fate had other plans. I’ll never stop caring for you however, I’m afraid I’ve stopped loving you in the way you’re used to.”

The truthful words were ones that felt like hell to swallow. You didn’t want to believe it but you knew damn well he was telling the truth. The sincerity and softness in his voice made it so hard to be completely mad at him. He was so gentle with his words but the truth of them did nothing but make your heart hurt and ache. An empty chuckle left your lips as your features were now graced with a bittersweet smile.

“Ah, I think I would’ve appreciated it if you were meaner with your responses. Maybe then I wouldn’t have such a hard time letting you go.” You finally managed to look him in the eyes, his reflection showing on your glossy orbs.

He felt his own heart churn with remorse and guilt, seeing as he terribly hurt the one person that he had sworn to love and protect for the rest of his days. He felt sick over the fact he failed to keep part of the promise-- the part where he said that he would continue to love you.

That was one of the last times you had ever seen Diluc Ragnvindr.

--

Your body shook as the freezing temperatures of Dragonspine overtook your senses. You sat up against a rock, your back leaning onto it as you struggled to keep yourself upright. You were barely holding on by a thread as you physically felt numb. However, your mind swirled with a storm of emotions, almost as strong as the last day you had seen your ex-lover but this time, you reminisced on your time as you felt like this would be your final moments.

You pondered over the fact that this might’ve been the reason that he no longer loved you in the way you wished to be loved by him. You wanted his affections, you wanted his love, you wanted him. But you were too weak. That was it. He let you go for someone that was strong, so very strong; both mentally and physically. God, you couldn’t even compare to the likes of them, being nothing but a measly old adventurer, one that wasn’t even fortunate enough to wield a vision. You were nothing but weak in your own eyes; that's what brought you to your demise.

In your hands, you clutched one of the last treasures you had found in the cursed mountains. It was a pretty little collar that held a jewel that twinkled so beautifully despite the dull, hazy environment.

“You do not wish to be weak anymore do you, little one? Do not be afraid, put me on and I’ll grant you the desires you so wish to obtain. Abide by my rules and obtain for me the essence of life and together, we can make sure that everyone will hail before you.”

A voice echoed inside your head as your mind began to spiral. All morals, memories and feelings began to drown out until you were barely hanging on by thread.

“Hurry, time is of the essence! Quick!”

With little energy you had left, you were able to hang the new found possession around your neck. The second you let go of the clips that held the piece together, you felt a tight constriction around your neck, the feeling was suffocating. Just like the last time you had seen Diluc. For a moment, you thought of the red haired male you once held to dear and close to your heart. It ached for him once more in that very moment because he was the very essence of warmth and it was something that you so desired in such a moment like this. The way he held you against him in the coldest of nights in an attempt to keep you warm and oh how it worked wonderfully. It was a memory that slowly faded away with your conscience. Your hands graced themselves lightly around your neck as you struggled to breathe even more than before, your body finally running out of any sort of energy as you fell limp against the cold and soft snow.

Anything. From this point on, you would do anything to get stronger. You no longer cared for any mishaps that happened along the way. You had no love left, nothing but the hunger for power that drowned out the aching void that was now left behind after everything was torn away from you.

“Sorry... to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me.”

Within the bustling harsh winds of the Dragonspine mountains laid a girl with a jewelled necklace as well as a cold, icy blue orb that shined brightly against the blizzards.

--

“The expedition out in Dragonspine was a complete disaster! The winds were harsher than usual and how could we predict such a nasty storm would’ve been upon us? We planned so far ahead and yet it ended up utterly terrible.” One of the adventurers commented as they were in the process of recovering after descending from the unforgiving mountains.

“Did everyone that went on the expedition come back? There’s absolutely no way we can risk going up there again, at least not for a while.” Another commented.

There was an excruciating silence within the camp.

“Has anyone seen (Y/n)?”

--

Diluc had set out once the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning came upon him. He continued to lurk from the shadows and deal with whatever trivial matters that had to be dealt with in the dead of night as he always did. He had heard of a few nuisances that arose near the outskirts of Dragonspine that hadn’t been dealt with yet. Of course the knights wouldn’t bother with this anyways, as per usual what he thought to himself.

Though the male held a pyro vision, the sharp and bitter cold of Dragonspine was something that never failed to make him uncomfortable.

He swiftly made his way to the location, being stealthy and fast with his movements in an attempt to get the job done faster to refrain from being caught. Once he had made his way to the destination, he remained hidden while he examined the area. In the far distance, he saw camps, hilichurl as well as Fatui camps that were not too far off. His face held a look of distaste as his eyes laid upon the familiar trademark symbol of the Snezhnayan organization.

Just as he was about to step out and deal with the hilichurl camp himself, a figure emerged from afar and into the camp. The movements of said person were agile, fast and swift, ice shards being directed in the direction of every living being on the camp. A blizzard stirred so fiercely upon the camp and as the barbaric bitter winds of the snow died down, there was almost nothing left of the camp that once stood there.

Not a single soul.

Diluc very cautiously moved closer to get a better look at the strange person that appeared before him. His eyes widened in disbelief as he started to make out the figure, his mind refusing to believe what he saw in front him, almost regretting letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“I wasn’t aware that you people are unable to take care of a measly little hilichurl camp. I specifically stated to clear the area before anything else and you couldn’t even follow instructions as simple as that, or perhaps I wasn’t clear enough with my statement?” An icy voice boomed out towards a trio of Fatui skirmishers.

That voice was all too familiar to Diluc. It was so familiar yet it sounded so different, so harsh, so cold. Yet, it was the voice that confirmed his unruly suspicions.

“Make up for your poor performance by getting the camps set up in a decent manner at the very least. I’d rather spare myself the trouble of punishing the likes of you people. You don’t wish to cross me any further, do you?” A cold, hard glare very evident on your fact that was directed to the three in front of you.

They frantically shook their heads, sputtering out a series apologies in an attempt to ease your annoyance.

“Make use of yourselves and set up immediately. By the time I come back to supervise the area, everything should be set up in a manner that is nothing less than perfect. If you wish to please me this time, do as you’re told this time. Now go.” You shook them off with a wave of a hand as they saw themselves away in an instant.

You took your time to avoid the now empty camp that rid itself of almost all remains. A hand placed itself atop the jewel that gracefully sat between your collarbones. The voices that swirled in your head chanting for more power and more life eventually died down as the constrictions of your beloved collar began to loosen, just enough so you could breathe. You let out a breathe that you had been holding before regaining your composure. You stood up straight with a proud stature before speaking out.

“I know you are there, may as well come forth voluntarily unless you want be to bring you out myself.”

Diluc’s blood ran cold when he realized that that you were most likely referring to him, baffled at how you were able to pick up on his own presence. He cautiously revealed himself and made his way a little closer to you. The second you laid eyes on the redhead, you felt like your world stopped for a second. The initial shock was replaced with amusement as the scene unfolded in front of you.

“And to think that last time we saw each other would be the last.” You said before bitterly chuckling.

Diluc took some time to muster up words and recover from his initial shock.

“You never came back from that mission. You were claimed to be dead by the guild the day after and yet here you are. The people mourned over you. I mourned for you. What has become of you, (Y/n)?” Diluc spoke out, pain and sadness laced within his tone.

“Ha, they mourned? As well as yourself? Don’t make me laugh Ragnvindr. Was your mourning perhaps an act in an attempt to keep up your reputation. Would not surprise me in the slightest if that were the case. I refuse to accept the pity of others, and I absolutely detest if it is empty and meaningless. Pity is for those who are weak and as far as I’m concerned--”

You stepped closer to Diluc before you continued.

“I’m not weak anymore.”

“(Y/n), you were never weak--” Diluc said before he was cut off.

“Bullshit Ragnvindr. Utter bullshit.” You harshly spat.

“I wasn’t able to handle myself before. I was nothing but weak. It was one of the reasons you fell out of love with me, was it not? You wanted a strong individual that could take care of themselves and you sure got one, but it wasn’t me at the time. Look now Ragnvindr, I am strong now.”

He took a better look at you as the realization of your position has begun to sink in.

“You... you’re…” In one of the rare times of his life, he was at a loss for words.

“Ah, Ah, Cat got your tongue? Poor boy can’t even muster up any words.” You chuckled mockingly.

“Fatui Harbinger, Ragnvindr. Number 12. Surely you’ve heard right?” You boldly stated.

Yes, he did hear. The Tsaritsa had taken another Harbinger under her wing yet the news and information of said Harbinger was extremely scarce and yet, No.12 stood right before Diluc.

No.12 was once his own beloved.

“What exactly led to all of this? What caused all of this to happen? What have you done to yourself?” The questions kept pouring out from Diluc’s mouth.

“It was quite simple. I got sick and tired of being weak and having things being taken from me. I have lost too many things to count and I have sacrificed many things to become who I am today. I do not regret a single thing I have done since I have started being selfish and being selfish has kept me from getting hurt again. I do not need you anymore, I do not need anyone in fact. I live for myself and to serve the needs of the Tsaritsa to repay her for giving me a chance to live the way I should’ve been all along.” You look at him with a taunting smirk on your face.

The (Y/n) (L/n) that was once known to be the beloved of Diluc Ragnvindr was dead. They died the moment you stepped out of the winery for the very last time. You were (Y/n), No.12 of the Fatui Harbingers. You were the one that sacrificed yourself to a curse upon the Dragonspine mountains in exchange for power to fill the void that was left behind. You no longer had the longing for love; you had none left after all. You craved for power and leverage over others and you refused to let people trample over you like they did before. You refused to be weak again. With the help of your new found vision as well as the curse that now burdened you, you would conquer the world and burn the old one away, along with your old self.

With no love left, there was nothing left to lose after all.

A/N: SOOOO the whole choker thing might be a little confusing but BASICALLY i took the whole concept from the “Love me, Love me, Love me.” song where the girl gets that cursed necklace/choker and i changed the concept around a little bit so that in exchange for power, dear reader has to basically slaughter things to keep the choker from killing them LOL (I’m tired pls my mind if SPIRIALING rn lmfao)

the italics in the second chunk are the weird choker speaking to the reader since it's a whole ‘curse’ thing and the bold italics in the second chunk is basically a quote from genshin from the cryo gemstone thingies and i used it to signify the reader getting a cryo vision^^ there’s a lot i wanna say but i’m too lazy to elaborate sorry lol. kinda feel like making more parts to this bc i feel like the story could go one but ehhh we’ll see how I’m feeling. i really just wanted to make a oneshot where the reader goes batshit after so ahahahahhaha. (also this fic feels lore breaking as fuck but its ok LMAO)

[loveacrossteyvat]

Birthdays through the years (Diluc x reader)

.........*years ago*.........

You stood in front of the large doors of the Dawn Winery, your hands fiddling with the wrapped box with both nervousness and excitement. You really hope that your best friend Diluc would like the gift. You jumped a little when the door opened, revealing Crepus who saw you and gave a warm smile.

“Ah, you arrived. Diluc has been anxiously waiting for you, (y/n).” Crepus said, opening the door for you. As you walked in, Crepus called out for his son, who immediately ran out from a room. Large red eyes widened with excitement and ran into you to hug you tightly, squishing your cheeks together.

“(y/n)! I’m so happy you came!” He cried out with a big smile. You laughed as well, pulling back a little and petting his fluffy red hair. The two of you left Crepus to head into the dining room where his adopted brother, Kaeya was waiting in and gave you a small wave. Despite being the son of a famous man in Mondstadt, Diluc preferred having small birthdays with his family and best friend. You came from a humble family who worked with Crepus for a time. During that time, you often visited the Dawn Winery with your parents where you met the brothers and became close friends with them. You and Diluc became especially close to which you two never seemed to separate.

“(y/n) look at this. Kaeya and father made me this for my birthday.” Diluc said as the both of you sat down and he pointed to a white cake with red frosting, two slices cut out for the brothers.

“Wow, that looks delicious.” You complimented, causing the blue hair boy to blush shyly. A maid proceeded to cut you a slice so you decided to pass Diluc your present. “Here Diluc. I hope you like it.” Diluc thanked you and took the present, opening it rather quickly. Kaeya peeked over a little as Diluc pulled out a red gem attached through a gold rope. “My mom taught me how to make it. It’s supposed to go around your collar, like a necklace.” You explained, feeling a little nervous as Diluc stared at the present.

“This is really pretty. Thank you, (y/n).” Diluc thanked with a bright smile, immediately relieving you of all the anxiousness you’ve been feeling. 

.........*a few years later*.........

Time passed and much has changed in your life. You started taking a liking to making trinkets and jewellery. You have made a number, including a blue earring for your friend Kaeya, and women started to take notice of them and wanted some for themselves. Thus you became quite well-known in Mondstadt and noticeably grew more independent from the nervous child you were before.

As you busied with your hobby-turned-job, Diluc and Kaeya grew to be strong young men who joined the Knights of Favonius. You knew it was a dream of Diluc considering the number of times you played knights with the two of them. And you were happy to see him rise up well, gaining much respect and admiration among the other knights. Kaeya seemed to have just tagged along with his brother but he too made a name for himself as a man with wits and skills.

Despite not being able to spend as much time together as when you were kids, you and Diluc still had a strong relationship. When you were both free, you would meet on a quiet grassy hill to talk about your lives. Diluc would share about his training with the knights and the people who he has met, including the successor of the Gunnhildr Clan Jean. You shared about the new materials from different regions which you tested making trinkets with, sharing how you would love to travel to those places yourself one day. No matter how tired Diluc was from training, he always seemed to make time for you. You were after all a dear friend of his and he liked the idea of having you involved in his life.

Every time you two talked, you always noticed the red gem hanging around Diluc’s neck. A present from you which he has held dear to all those years. It was just one of the quiet actions which the boy has done to show how much he appreciated your company. Other than that, many have noticed how much happier Diluc seemed when he was with you. Crepus liked to joke about how he felt relieved of leaving the Dawn Winery one day to the both of you, to which made the both of you shy about the thought.

Though, Diluc never once denied it.

Speaking of the Dawn Winery, you were right now decorating the living room for Diluc and Crepus’ arrival. It was Diluc’s coming of age ceremony and you wanted to give him a surprise when he returns home. So you came early and worked with the staff to get everything ready. You headed to the couch where you rummaged through your bag and pulled out a small package. It was a handmade lanyard which you hoped would be useful for Diluc with his new rank as captain. You were thrilled when Diluc shared the news and you immediately went to work on this as your way to say congratulations.

You smiled to yourself and placed the present on the table, waiting with the rest of the staff for the masters of the house. But all of you would have never guessed the horrible incident which would change everything which seemed normal.

.........*current year*.........

It was late at night in the Angel Share and the red hair bartender was cleaning the last of the glasses for the day. He had gotten a good amount of information for his personal mission and was ready to head back home to prepare for his quest. He heard the door opened and was about to remark about the tavern being closed when he saw who was standing by the door and his eyes widened slightly.

“Diluc. I’m glad to catch you before you left.” You said as you pulled down your hood and walked over to the bar seat.

“You know the bar is open during the day, right?” Diluc remarked, placing the glass on the tabletop.

“There’s too many people during that time. This is the only time I can talk to you without anyone bothering us.” You said. Diluc hummed in response and went to the bottle shelf. Meanwhile you quietly observed him, smiling softly. It had been three years since the unfortunate incident and it changed your lives.

Obviously Diluc became more distant and somewhat cold, an irony of his Pyro vision. The death of his father and his leave from the Knights of Favonius made you see him less, sometimes not at all. You tried to reach out to him but something told you to keep your distance for the time being, only showing your silent support on the sides.

It was only when Diluc needed help with a commission and he knew that you usually travelled across lands for your job. He trusted you and let you in on private affairs of his, including his persona as the Darknight Hero. You jumped at the chance to help him in any way you could, which included gathering intel from people of different cities and bringing new materials back to the Dawn Winery.

Because of that, the two of you begun to spend more time together. Your more optimistic nature and light talk of what you’ve seen in your travels slowly broke the walls of Diluc’s heart and the man started to become himself around you. You counted the times he managed a small smile in front of you, being happy with yourself every time he did. 

“How was your trip to Liyue?” Diluc asked as he passed you a glass of your favourite drink.

“It was great. Working with the jewellers there was inspirational. Plus the experience of their culture was a nice refresher.” You answered and took a sip of your drink. “Also, I got some good information about the Abyss.”

“Sounds good. We’ll talk about more about it back in the Winery.” Diluc nodded and said. You both shared a silent moment with short chats for a while before you remembered something.

“I almost forgot. I got you something.” You went through your bag before pulling out a parcel. “It’s a speciality tea from Liyue. I know you don’t like alcohol so I thought you might like to try this.” Diluc took the parcel and a nice natural aroma wafted into his nose.

“It smells good. I’ll have someone make tea for us when we return.” You nodded and hopped over the counter to wash your empty glass. As you were, you jumped a little when strong arms wrapped around your waist and a warm breath hit the crook of your neck. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing how touchy Diluc actually is when in private. And judging by his action, it would seem that someone missed you.

“You know, I only managed to come back this quickly because it’s your birthday tomorrow. I know you don’t see the need to celebrate it but do you think you want to do something special? Just the two of us.” A small smile formed on Diluc’s face and he lifted his head to place a feather-like kiss on your forehead.

“I would really enjoy that.”

[happyselves]

Wine { Daniel Ricciardo x reader one shot }

You were invited to a garden party, one of your neighbours was throwing one for the launch of his wine or something, you heard of it before receiving the invite in your mailbox. Weird cause you didn't really known anyone here since you just got here and that neighbour, he was never here but you know from his house that he was rich as fuck.

Anyways you weren't planning on going but free food convinced you, but what to wear now ... to a garden party ? At 7pm ... who does that ? He must be an arrogant prick. You were torn between a sexy dress or a chill outfit ... and you end up with a combination of both, a sexy top and a chill pants . You didn't forget your purse and took your keys, do you really want to drive there ? Well no you were living next door but you did make the walk barefoot cause you didn't want to have sore feet already.

You arrived at your destination and entered the huge house and gave your invitation to a security guy, he did look at you with questioning eyes cause first you still weren't wearing your shoes and secondly you weren't really the type of guest this reception was expecting. What the fuck were you doing here plus more you were actually looking more you didn't see any other neighbour that you recognize.( you didn't know them personal but you always greet them when you see them )

Your shoes back on you start to look around, pretty decoration, very aesthetic and very chic but simple, a bit like yours but you could see some helmets and paintings of cars ? Super cars like the one being driven on circuit ... Formula 1 it was called ... ohhh that would explain a lot about your neighbour ... he must be a F1 driver then. The curiosity was growing inside of you, you knew Lewis Hamilton from this sport, you mean ... knowing is a big word, you've heard his name and saw a picture of him from one of your friends somewhere. If all the drivers were as handsome as Hamilton then your neighbour was getting interesting. What was his name again dammit.

You found the food and took some, not too much to not sound like a bizarre person, you were already underdressed and you were alone, that does look suspect. Socializing wasn't really your forte but some of the guests came to talk to you, they were wearing chill outfits like yours, you felt relief in your heart, like a big weight lifting up, those you will stick to them all evening that was decided. They were his friend to that mysterious guy that you only remember the first letter D. So the friends of D were making you feel at home and asking you random stuff not pressuring you but making you feel so comfortable, so maybe D will not be a prick after all if his friends are this nice. One of his friends, Scott, directed you towards the true star of the party .... THE WINE !!

As soon as you tested it your taste buds went into paradise, the sweet texture, the raspberry taste that was prominent, you liked it right away and wanted to have more. During the whole evening you end up maybe drinking more than you should have and food wasn't making it better. You weren't drunk like a crazy drunk. You just felt more relaxed and laughed with D' friends until you excused yourself because you wanted some water and there was none in the living room. Scott points at you in the direction of the kitchen and tells him you will be back in a sec. His friends were so nice and it felt like you've always known them, they have the same vibe as you and you were already planning on seeing them again this week.

What was strange is that after all this time you still haven't seen the host of the evening, you thought he was speaking with everyone but you would have met by now, you were with his friend after all.

In your thought, the glass of wine in your hand you didn't see the tall person in front of you as you entered the kitchen and kinda crashed into him, the glass of wine ruining his cream pullover. Fuck ... you watch the red spot trying to clean it but you made it worse.

You : Oh I'm so sorry I was in my thoughts, my lord come down here.

You close your fist on his pull and bring him towards the sink without even looking at him or asking him if it was okay. The dude just follows you without complaining, you turn the water, get the closest thing you could get to help and clean it. You were so focused on the spot that you didn't notice he had put his hands on your arms, very warm hands and his chest was firm.

You : Nah take it off I won't be able to take the wine off on you.

Stranger : It's okay really

You hear his voice for the first time and what a voice, sweet like honey but deep as well, from what you could pick from it, he feels amused. You finally look up to see your interlocutor's face and you stay shocked at his, you couldn't react, you froze literally and your cheek went red ... he was handsome and you had way too many glasses of alcohol to behave like a normal being without being embarrassing. Trying your best to put some composure on you but of course he noticed it.

Stranger : We should introduce each other before you take off my clothes, don't you think ? He joked

You throw your name so quickly which made him giggle.

Stranger : Hi nice to meet I'm Daniel

He tried to shake your hand and that's where it hit you, Daniel !! Your neighbour Daniel, the host, the one with the wine !!! You were freaking out in your head but shook his hand

You : Oh I see, I was wondering where the host of the evening was, but I see hiding in the kitchen.

Dan : And I was wondering where the neighbour that my friend kept talking about was and invited me.

You were feeling the alcohol in you taking the place and you knew that the next phrase coming out of you will be out of character.

You : Well if I knew that you were this handsome and hiding here I would have come get water much sooner.

It was his turn to feel shy and scratch his hand, looking away from you he cleared his throat.

Dan : Well I know that's kinda impolite of me to not be with my guest but I've been on the phone all evening, it wasn't planned at all. I'm sorry, am I a bad neighbour ?

You : Don't apologize and you don't have to explain yourself, you are a busy man after all from what I saw. But not to sound too neat freak, your pull over might be ruined. I should be the one apologizing for that.

Dan : Oh it's okay it's not like it was my only clothes.

And with that he took it off, finally you whispered in your head, or by the face he just made you think it was in your head. Damnit ... again not in your head freaking wine

Dan : Ah I see you liked the wine ? I will give you some bottles then, free of charge in the house cause I'm a terrible host.

You both went silent, it wasn't awkward but he was curious about you and why you were looking at his chest like that ... he was wearing a white tee shirt underneath, not like he was naked.

For you it was the layered gold necklaces that threw you off, you loved men wearing jeweled jewelry especially because you had a thing for neck, large neck and god damn that an F1 driver had to have a large neck. You snapped out of it, almost feeling dizzy.

You : Wooo I'm sorry I zoned out ... I think it's the wine, I'm not a bad drinker but the raspberry touch in was my favorite.

You didn't notice you were getting closer to him, like night butterflies attracted to light, your hands were moving on their own, putting the wet tissue you had in one of your hands since you started cleaning his shirt, on the counter and bringing it to his necklaces playing with it. Daniel didn't move, he couldn't. It was like a flash of lightning was striking him down on his feet. He was looking at you helplessly, catching the counter with his hand to keep you both balanced cause he felt like his legs were about to give him up at this instant. That were he takes the time to admire you, how beautiful you were with that sunset lightning hitting you

from the window. His secondhand automatically pushed away the hair that was stopping him to look at your pretty face.

You : I don't know what's happening, you breath out

He heard you thought

Dan : I don't know either but it's not like I want to stop.

You lock eyes with each other and in a last movement you close your fingers against his necklaces, bringing him closer to you, collapsing your lips together, the taste of wine was intoxicating. He responds to your kiss instantly, slowly catching your lips and making you forget every kiss you had before him. You both were in sync, kissing slowly but deeply that it was sloppy. His hands were now on your hip, not letting you go and you were glad anyway cause you just couldn't have enough of this man. The romantic kiss turns to a more ferocious one, bringing teeth and tongue to the party. He was making you moan at every chance he gets cause it was already obsessed with the sound that was leaving your body. You were soon out of breath and had to make your lungs full of oxygens again so you were the first to break the kiss not without having him complaining with a groan.

Your eyes still close, you take a huge amount of air.

You : That was ...

You didn't had the time to finish

Dan : Unexpected

You both : but so good

You both opened your eyes at the same time, they were different from earlier, dark and full of lust for each other.

After a little while catching your breath you were both fighting the urge to kiss again but control yourself.

Dan : Well I'm so glad my friend invited you, they said I needed to know my neighbours, I thought they would invite everyone but I guess they only saw you.

You : Well I'm glad to have forced myself to come even if I didn't want to.

You both laughed and his hands joined yours on the counter, first caressing your skin before intertwining your fingers.

Dan : So do you think it would be impolite of me to just tell everyone to leave ?

That picked the curiosity in you

You : Perhaps yes, since you didn't even show up but I might have an idea.

Dan : I'm listening ...

You : You could simply eclipse yourself by the back door with a couple of wine bottles and I join you outside so we can go to my place and finish whatever is going on between us right now.

Dan : Ouuhhh I dig that plan a lot.

He quickly catch oyu lips before leaving them again

Dan : Meet you outside at 5 ?

You : Yes

You find your best lie to excuse yourself from Daniel's friends, telling them that the wine was getting into your head and that you needed to go home, it wasn't technically a lie though. Of course they ask you if you needed someone to come with you until you're home safe but you reassure them that it was only 200meters away and they let you go.

You felt like a teenager again, meeting Daniel outside of his own house, ruining as quick as you could to go back to your house and spend the most scandalous night you ever experienced with a man.

Masterlist

[magicrowiswritingstuff]

"Rings" - Din Djarin x female!reader

(GIF by Me ... this was a hassle to create, I tell you guys)

Summary: You give something up that is very important to you to save Din's life.

Warning: injury/blood, a bit of violence, near-death experience, death of someone close to the reader (only mentioned)

Disclaimer: I normally try to give the reader as little backstory as possible but that wasn't an option here. So, please just roll with it.

Category: angst/fluff

Words: about 8.000

Note: Today’s my birthday (it’s already the 30th December where I live) so, have this piece of my writing as a sort of present from me to you! I must say I’m very proud to have finished this before the end of 2020. Letting you decide what I should write next and just reading your interest in my ideas definitely motivated me to write. So, thank you! <3 Note 2: I hope y’all enjoy it, I was a bit nervous because I rewrote a lot of it since it always felt like something wasn’t right or missing. The first draft was 4.000 words and I only wanted to check for any grammar mistakes and … well, you see what happened xD I also wish y’all a (early) happy New Year! I hope 2021 will be better for all of us.

_________________________________    

“Rings” – Din Djarin x fem!reader

You sat on the pilot seat of the Razor Crest, staring outside at the dark void of space speckled with star streaks. Mando was sleeping, the Child too, so you had some time for yourself that you didn't know how to spend efficiently. The autopilot was on and the ship wasn't in the need of any repairs, so you didn't even need to be awake right now but you didn't feel tired enough to fall asleep either. Absentmindedly you twisted one of your rings in your fingers to pass the time. It was a metallic-silver ring that looked like two intertwined ones, nothing engraved into it, no jewels on it, quite uneven. It was an unremarkable ring, a simple ring. Still, from all the rings on your fingers this one meant the most to you. This ring was your go to distraction when you were bored and your comforter.

 "What are you doing?" a modulated voice asked behind you. Flinching you dropped your hands in your lab and spun around in the chair to face the Mandalorian. You furrowed your brows at him to silently scold him. How was he able to move without making a single sound in that metal armor of his? After a while you shrugged your shoulders in answer. "Nothing, really." Turning back around you stared out of the window again with a sigh. "I'm just ... bored." A small smile found its way on your lips as you crossed your arms before your chest and leaned back in the chair, knowing fully well that Mando stood dumbfounded behind you because you were sitting in 'his' seat. Though as long as he wasn't saying anything there was no problem, right? You had to suppress the small snort that would have threatened to spill over your lips otherwise. "Is the Child still sleeping?" you asked instead after a while in which you hadn't heard the Mandalorian move at all. But for all you might know he could have already walked back down or he could stand right behind you. "Yes" he answered shortly, his voice still sounded like he stood in the doorway to the cockpit. So, he hadn't moved. "Good" you retorted before standing up, thinking you had tortured the silent Mandalorian enough, and sat down on one of the co-pilot seats. Mando stood still for a few moments longer before also sitting down in his seat. You two stayed silent after that and after a while you resumed back to twisting the ring between your fingers in boredom.

"Do you ever take those rings off?" His rough voice startled you once more. Perplexed you looked up to see him slightly turned towards you in his chair and just blinked at him a few times. Then you raised one eyebrow at him with a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Do you ever take that helmet off?" you shot back with a grin. You of course knew the answer and Mando knew that too so you didn't expect more than a short huff from him. He let out a snort and shook his head in what you guessed was amusement. Sometimes it was hard to read his body language but you were proud to say that you slowly got better at it. "What do they mean to you?" he tried again. "Awfully chatty today, aren't we?" you teased but you had to note that you were grateful for him seemingly opening up to you more. Mando shrugged in answer. You looked back down at your hands and the many rings adorning them as your smile fell. "Most of them mean nothing" you explained. "I just think they're pretty. I like shiny metal." You shot the man in shiny armor a side glance and a sly grin, trying to fall back into a more carefree attitude. If he understood your teasing he didn't react, though you could swear he had wide eyes underneath that helmet of his. But maybe you were just projecting. After a while he cleared his throat which made you giggle. He had understood it after all.

 "You said most of them, so which do have a meaning to you?" You grew quiet, staring back down at the ring you had twisted in between your fingers until now. The grin vanished from your features and only left a frown behind. Your throat closed up. You have never told anyone about this but some part of you wanted to share this with the Mandalorian you had grown closer to after all these months on the Razor Crest. "It's sentimental and stupid" you began and removed the ring from your finger. You held it over your face and turned it in the dim light. "My father made it." "Is he a blacksmith?" You felt your body stiffen up and slid the ring back on. "He was." The silence was awkward and filled with tension as your eyes hardened in an desperate attempt to hold back the tears. You wanted to tell him this but you refused to cry. You wouldn't cry in front of him. Everyone had lost somebody. "I'm sorry." You shook your head, quickly wiped the wetness round your eyes away so he wouldn't notice and leaned back into the chair, crossing your arms before your chest once more and closed your eyes. "Don't be." You heard the Mandalorian busy himself with switches and buttons after that. Opening one eye you saw him facing away from you, shoulders tense and squared. Another small, and this time more strained, grin formed on your lips. You forced to look more cheerful again. "And as you just saw, I do take them off, tin head." The Mandalorian huffed a short, modulated laugh as you closed your eyes again, twisting the ring, your comforter in between two fingers once more.

  _______________

  "Where is it!?" Your desperate cry echoed through the Razor Crest, alarming the Mandalorian who immediately jumped up from the pilot seat and climbed down the ladder. When he turned to face you, his heart beating painfully against his ribs, he saw you kneeling on the floor, your hair still wet from the shower you had just taken, damping the shirt around the area of your shoulders and neck. He paused, furrowing his brows in confusion. "What are you searching?" he asked perplexed, his heart slowing down again when he realized you or the kid weren't in any danger. "My ring!" you exclaimed panicked. "I took them off to shower and now I can't find the one I- the one my father made." The Mandalorian's gaze followed you as you scanned the floor, worrying that it might have rolled away. With all the boxes standing around it would be impossible to find it if it really had rolled into the clutter of materials. You huffed under your breath. Mando let his eyes trained on you before a delighted squeak caught his attention. Slowly he turned to face the kid who was sitting on his cot, admiring a shiny metal ring in his tiny hands with big, round eyes. You, however, continued to mutter under your breath, cursing yourself and swearing to never take it off again. Only when you heard Mando's chuckle did you pause and stood up to face him. You stared at him in confusion, your eyes wide. You had never heard such a soft sound leave his modulator before. He did laugh around you sometimes, that was nothing new, but it only ever was a short snort of a laugh or a dry one. Never such a soft, pure sound of delight. And then it had to be the moment your heart was racing and your hands were shaking in fear of having lost something forever. You furrowed your brows. "What's so funny?" you asked irritated. Thinking about how he would react if he couldn't find a piece of his armor, or his helmet even. You knew it was petty. After all you had only lost a ring and Mando's armor was part of his creed, deep-rooted within his beliefs. You couldn't help feeling slightly angry though.

 The Mandalorian didn't answer and instead tilted his head to his cot, your gaze following his movement. And when you laid eyes on the Child holding your ring, you had to control yourself to not slap your hand against your forehead hard. Instead, you buried your hot face in your hands and groaned. How wasn't this your first instinct? You straightened up and sat down in front of the kid "Kid, give me that please" you demanded nicely with your hand outstretched. The Child tilted his head and looked at you with his big, round eyes in curiosity. "Please" you pressed staring at the ring that hovered dangerously close to the kid's mouth. You could try to snatch it out if his grasp but you didn't want to risk him accentually swallowing it if he refused and defended his newly found treasure. Mando watched you in silence, arms crossed before his chest. He was almost about to speak up, he wanted to remind you that the kid wouldn't give it back so easily. He as well as you knew that because of the small ball from the switch in the cockpit the little one always stole. But before he could even open his mouth the kid let the ring fall into your palm, leaving the Mandalorian in a loss for words. The Child looked at you, his eyes saddened as if to apologize. You slipped the ring back on immediately, staring at your fingers that now all had their respected ring back. Then you squished the Child's cheeks in thanks and he squealed in joy. "I almost had a heart attack" you jokingly said and looked at the still silent Mandalorian as a breathy laugh left your lips. It was this moment did he realize what a strong bond you and the Child had built over those months you had now been on the Razor Crest. And it left him with a feeling he couldn't quite place in any category. Was it joy? Pride? Maybe both, maybe something else. He shook his head, directing his attention back at you as you straightened up with the kid in your arms, an exhausted smile on your lips. "Crisis overcome" you joked, the relief in your voice however was unmistakable.

  _______________

  After that little incident you never took that ring off again. All the other ones weren't that important, you didn't care if the Child grabbed one of them but the ring your father had made was of limits. But you knew that Mando was interested in it, about its story and the importance it had to you. He hadn't told you much about him so you hadn't told him much about you either when he had first approached you with the proposition to you give you a job on the Razor Crest. Back then you didn't really care who he was, you just needed some credits and the Child was cute so that was a plus. You were mostly a mechanic for the ship and the weapons at first but you soon fell for the little one’s charm and became somewhat of a caretaker for him as well. Mando had offered to raise your wage many times since you took on more than he had planned but you always had and always would refuse. You cared for the Child because you wanted to not because you were paid for it. And to be honest, the credits he did gave you for repairs on the ship and looking over the weapons every once in a while, you always ended up spending for the kid or for something that was needed on the ship anyways. So, it really wasn't that much of a job anymore to you and rather ... a strange companionship of sorts. And because of that you decided to offer a deal to the Mandalorian because you also grew more interested in your mysterious travel companion. After months on board, you wanted to finally get to know him more.

 "Since you seem so interested in my ring, I'm going to propose a deal" you proclaimed, straightening up in the co-pilot seat you had sat down earlier. The pilot seat turned to you so Mando could face you more comfortably, his helmet tilted in question. You grinned, proud to be able to at least distinguish the different head tilts he had. "I'm going to answer the questions you have if you tell me something about you in return" you continued after quickly shaking your head to sort your thoughts. You weren't obviously to the way the Mandalorian tensed in his seat, seemingly expecting to have to answer the questions that were burning on your tongue ever since you grew to like him more. So you shook your head at him as an answer to his silent question. "I'm not going to ask you something directly so you can choose what you want to reveal about yourself. I'm satisfied with anything." He nodded, agreeing to your proposition.

 You removed the ring from your finger and grabbed Mando's hand, he stiffened up again immediately. You let out a short chuckle. "Relax" you snorted and placed the ring in his palm. His head shot from his hand to your face in what you knew was shock and confusion. With a toothy grin you shrugged your shoulders. "I know you want to know more about it. You aren't that hard to read after a while" you explained with a grin. "And I know you won't eat it, unlike the Child." That made the Mandalorian laugh in agreement before looking back down at the sliver ring in his palm. The soft sound of his real laughter and not the stifled snorts he would normally only let out made you shiver for some reason. For a while he just stared at the ring in complete silence, obviously not knowing where to start. Then he cleared his throat and tilted his helmet only slightly upwards, almost unnoticeably but you caught it, knowing that he was now looking at you. "You said your father made it?" You nodded but knew he wanted to ask more, however, he seemed unsure of how far he could go so you decided to elaborate a bit more. "Yes, he did. He was mostly an armorer, though" you declared. "That ring was the first and only jewelry he ever crafted which is why it's so bumpy." You let out a short laugh and leaned back into the seat, staring out of the window and only glancing at the Mandalorian from the corner of your eye from time to time.

"He taught me a lot about different kind of weapons which is why I'm so good at repairing them, not so much with creating them from scratch like he was though." You crossed your arms before your chest and bit your lip, just letting yourself think for a moment and trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill again. "Back then I never thought all that knowledge would come in handy. I often complained because I wanted to go out and play with my friends and not look at melted metal all day" you resumed, trying to distract yourself with it. "I never thought I would need the things he taught me to save a Mandalorian's ass." That made Mando laugh once more but this time in protest. "If I recall correctly, I save you much more often" he pointed out. "You recall incorrectly" you teased but knowing the truth in his words. You would never admit it out loud, though, you liked to joke around with him too much.

 "Something else you want to know?" you asked, distracting him from your teasing since he had grown quiet after that. The Mandalorian nodded. "Yes. You don't have to answer if it's too personal or you don't want to but-" he started, seeming conflicted. "How did he die?" You gulped, not having expected that kind of direct question from him. Your gaze returned to the large window, staring at the sparkling void that was space again. "He was killed" you stated, your voice suddenly sounding rather strained. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to carry on. "He got caught in the crossfire of some stupid criminal organizations on my home planet." You saw Mando slowly nod from the corner of your eyes before he stretched out his hand to you for you to take your ring back. You straightened up again and turned to face him, reaching for it. "I'm sorry" the Mandalorian said in a soft, quiet tone. Even fainter than the chuckle you have heard from him before. You froze mid motion before shaking your head and swiftly grabbed the ring, sliding it back on your finger. "As I said once already, don't be. It's been forever ago." You suddenly felt a bang in your chest and a tightness in your heart. It still hurt. And before you could prevent it you let out one sharp sob, clutching the finger with your father's ring on it with your other hand and bend over. You missed him, even after all this time you still missed him more than anything. After that one sob only silent tears dropped down your face but you didn't hear the Mandalorian standing up. Only when you felt his hands on your shoulders did you realize that he was in front of you. Your head snapped up to stare at the black of his visor through your tears. The touch felt soothing and you realized that you craved more. You didn't feel like you were allowed to hug him tough, so you stayed put, lowered your head and tried to calm down under his gaze and touch. When the tears finally ran dry, you nodded to tell him that you were fine and he could sit down again but he didn't move. You glanced up, raising one eyebrow at him in question. He didn't say anything and just stared back from behind his visor. Then he moved his hands from your shoulders to your face, cupping your cheeks. You froze with wide eyes as he wiped away the last traces of your tears. For a few moments you just stared at him, mouth agape but before you could form any words -even though you had no idea what you wanted to say anyway- he moved away and let himself fall stiffly onto the pilot seat. You two just sat there, still facing each other but neither dared to speak up. You were shocked and flustered. And the Mandalorian probably felt the same way. Out of instinct you began to twist the ring in your fingers again. Your mind was blank. Did this really just happen or had you hallucinated all that? You shook your head and cleared your throat. "So, ehm ... what did you decide to share with me?" you asked, changing the topic and distracting yourself from your thoughts. "What secret do you want to expose?" The Mandalorian didn't move or react, probably thinking about what to say, what to reveal or still wondering about what he had done just now. After many moments in which your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear echoing in your ears he finally spoke up, saying one single word.

 "Din."

 Confused you furrowed your brows at him. "Din?" You tested the foreign word on your tongue, weighting it as if you could understand its meaning that way. But you couldn't recall ever hearing it before. You shook your head, signaling him that you didn't understand. "Din Djarin. It's my name." Your eyes widen in surprise, your mouth opened and closed without producing a sound. You didn't expect him to reveal that. "I thought you would tell me something like, I don't know, you secretly like to dance or something like that" you stammered, caught off guard. The Mandalorian laughed. Not a small, soft chuckle but a load, heartfelt laugh that made his shoulders shake as he leaned back into his seat. You joined in, his laughter was too contagious not to, you didn't hear it often enough to not enjoy it.

 "Din..." you tested the word, his name, again after the laughter had died down. A sly grin found its way on your lips, the tears from before already forgotten but the ghost if his touch still lingered. "I wasn't that far of with ‘tin‘ head then." This made the Mandalorian snort. After that the ship grew silent once more and the two of you were staring out the window. After a while you leaned forward to steal a glance at him. "Do you like to dance?" you asked curiously with one raised eyebrow, shattering the silence without a second thought. "Wouldn't you like to know" he teased back, his grin audible by the challenging tone of his voice.

  _______________

  You stood there, the Child tightly pressed against your chest in a protective manner, body frozen, your eyes wide in worry and disbelief. You couldn’t remember how you ended up there, everything had happened so fast. One minute you and Mando stood next to each other near the arena of the dirty rust planet you were on (you had just wanted to get some more food and supplies) and spoke to some guy that had approached you. His eyes had something in them that made your skin crawl and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in uneasiness but you couldn't even open your mouth to share your concerns. The next moment the guy had pressed a button on his wrist band and Mando fell down a hole, ending up inside the arena. You ran to look over the railing to see him standing in the mud in the middle of the stadium that was halfway full with hungry eyes of spectators. Even from the distance you could see the anger radiating from Din by the way his shoulders squared. With an equally as angry glare you turned to the guy. "What do you think you are doing?" you snarled, pressing the kid against you protectively with one hand and grabbing your blaster with your other one, aiming it at the guy's head. "Release him this instant!"

 "If you shoot me" the man growled, pressing another button. "Your friend will be eaten alive." You heard the screeching of a metal gate and when you turned to look at Din again you saw a huge beast had entered the arena. The thing was at least three times larger than a mudhorn and immediately aggressive towards the intruder, towards Din. The beast ran towards him, it didn't even bat an eye when the Mandalorian aimed his fire thrower at the beast’s face. It clawed at him, grabbed him and hurled him across the stadium. Din landed on his back many meters away. Slowly he rose again, probably groaning in pain but you were too far away to hear anything except for the beast’s roars. He was only barely able to dodge another attack of the monster. You turned back to face the guy, your blaster slowly lowered until it was aimed against the floor. "What do you want with him? With us?" you asked, placing your blaster back into its holster on your hip. You needed to figure something out, fast. Or Din would get seriously injured if he wasn't already. "Do you know what a spectacle this will be? Spectators will come weeks after his defeat, hoping to see something equally as thrilling!" You shuddered, wondering what kind of sick planet you once again ended up on. You couldn't believe the audacity that guy had. Trapping a Mandalorian? Did he know what the Mandalorian could do when Din would get his hands on him? You turned to look down at the stadium in concern once more, just able to witness the beast pinning Din down with one of its claws. Any sound he could have made, very cry for help that could have been directed to you was drowned out by the cheers of the audience. Any bleeding injury he might have had was covered by mud, he might have suffered a concussion too by the way the beast had slammed him against the ground but you couldn't do anything and only watch in horror. The Child in your arms grew restless, obviously worried about the Mandalorian, too. You instinctively began to rock him in your arms and shielded his eyes with your body. He shouldn't have to watch this.

 "What do you want?" you questioned, spinning back around. "There is nothing you can give me" the man stated with a disparaging look. "What do you want? I'll give you anything if you just release him!" you yelled, your eyes wide in worry. Your heart beat against your ribs so fast you feared it would spring free any moment. You had never sounded so desperate in your life before. You had never feared so much for Dins' life before. The ringmaster took his time, however, stroking his chin theatrically. Seconds seemed to last for hours as the cheers of the audience echoed in your ears, your eyes tearing up in frustration. "Please!" you pressed, desperately reaching one hand out to the man. His eyes landed on it. "How about those shiny rings on your hands? Shiny metal is rather rare here on this rusty planet" he proposed. You froze, staring down at your outstretched hand. He wanted ... all your rings? "Deal?" he asked just when another roar of the beast shook through your bones. "Deal!" you yelled immediately, anger heating up your eyes. The man nodded and pressed a few buttons. You turned and saw the beast suddenly slumped over, lying unmovingly in the mud. The audience grew silent. Din didn't move. You grabbed the railing, leaning over as your eyes darted over his unmoving for still underneath the beast claw, unable to focus as your heart hammered against your ribs. "Mando!" Your scream echoed through the arena, your blood ran cold. Oh Maker, what if you hesitated for too long? You opened your mouth to scream again when you saw movement. Din freed himself from under the monster’s claw with huge effort. You sighed, your body almost falling completely limp and only help upright by your grip on the railing. You only dared to breathe in when he stood on his legs again. "Time to pay up, girly" the guy demanded as two guards walked up to Din to probably bring him out of the arena. You slowly turned around and gritted your teeth. The sleezy man had stretched out a hand for you to put your rings in it. With your eyes hardening you began to remove the rings from your hands. You heart seemed to break when you slid the last ring from your finger and laid it in the guy's hand. But you didn't hesitate, even though you felt like you just lost a part of yourself. The man nodded satisfied and put them in his pocket.

 "(Y/N)?" You span around when you heard Din's faint voice behind you and immediately ran towards the Mandalorian. You held the wriggling Child against your chest with one hand and put your other one on Din's chest in a small attempt to steady him. "Are you alright?" you asked in a hushed tone, looking him up and down with in worry furrowed brows. You couldn't see any blood, just mud. But that didn't have to mean anything. His ribs could be broken for all you knew. Your eyes landed on his side where his clothes were ribbed. Din winced, answering your question that way. Without another second to waste you stepped to stand beside him and wrapped your free arm around his middle. He didn't even protest and just leaned against your side, as you led him away from the arena and back to the Razor Crest. "Let's get out of here. Fast."

 Back on the Razor Crest you put the Child in his orb, closing it so he wouldn't have to see his adoptive father in that state. When you turned you saw Din slumped against the wall of the ship, his chest heaving. "For the love of- Din, sit down!" you yelped, grabbed his shoulders and pressed him down against the wall so he could still lean against something. He winced again as you ran to get the med kit. You kneeled down in front of him and scanned his body for wounds but you still couldn't see anything with his mud-covered armor in the way. Your eyes focused on the whole in the clothes by his side. "I need to take your armor off" you announced, your voice wavering even with your efforts to suppress it. "Not the he-" Din began but you cut him off. "I know! Maker, I know. Save your energy, please!" You didn't mean to sound so harsh but you were unable to control your voice as you felt the panic rise in your chest. You began to try and take off his armor but your hands were shaking so much you could barely hold onto the pieces. "(Y/N)" Din mumbled and grabbed your hands. You head snapped upwards, you opened your mouth to ask him what he needed when he suddenly slumped forward. "Din?" you asked with wide eyes and shook his hand that was still loosely around your own. "Din!" He didn't react. Cursing and with tears already threatening to spill out your eyes you let go of his hands and instead sneaked two fingers underneath his helmet and to his neck, searching for his pulse. You sighed. It was still there, he was just unconscious. You swallowed the panic down, put your arms underneath his armpits and heaved him away from the wall so you could lay him down on the floor. Not the most comfortable place but the most practical. Then you quickly removed his armor. When he only wore his shirt, pants and helmet you had to force yourself to keep going as you saw the blood had already covered most of his side in a deep red. With no time to lose you opened the med kit, grabbed the scissors and cut open his blood-soaked shirt. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you saw the deep cut going down his side. You couldn't even curse, you just froze. The scissors fell down to the floor with a clutter. You could stitch up wounds and treat smaller injuries but you weren't medically trained for this. You weren't qualified... How were you supposed...?

 The squeak beside you made you jump. Your eyes darted around aimlessly until they finally locked into the Child who was standing next to you. "How did you-?" you were unable to complete the question as the kid walked towards Din. Your eyes widen in realization and you immediately held the Child in your hands to get him closer to Din's wound. He stretched out his tiny hands and closed his eyes in concentration. At first nothing happened, the silence in the Razor Crest was deafening. Then the wound on Din's side finally began to close up and your heart leaped into your throat. The kid whimpered before he went limp after the wound had closed up completely. "Good job, kid" you praised and pressed him against your chest, your voice strained but relieved. You didn't put him in the orb this time and instead in the hammock above Din's bunk. "Get some rest" you whispered and stroker over his head. He would be fine. You furrowed your brows in worry and glanced at Din. You weren't sure about him yet. You patted the little one’s head one more time and then kneeled back down next to the still unconscious Mandalorian. You took a deep breath and began to look for more injuries he might have. But luckily you didn't find any more open wounds, only bruises that would continue to hurt for a few days if not weeks even with the bacta you could put on them. And even though he wasn't in mortal danger anymore, you still had to force yourself to keep going, your hands were still shaking violently.

 After you had treated his bruises and had made sure none of his ribs were broken you somehow managed to get him into his cot where he could find some rest. With a heavy heart you had decided to retreat into the cockpit. You had set a curse and activated the autopilot after that. With a sigh you slumped into the pilot seat. There was nothing left for you to do and even though you felt the tiredness in every fiber of your body you couldn't find any rest. Your hands were still shaking from all the fear and adrenaline and your mind was racing in tight circles. You were still worried even though the kid had healed his otherwise fatal wound and you had done everything else you could have. Absentmindedly you reached for the ring, wanted to twist it in your fingers like so many years prior to get some sense of comfort only to grab nothing. You flinched and stared at your hands in shock. For the first time you really felt the absence of your rings against your skin. You gritted your teeth and tried to blink the tears away. The frustration and anger rose inside your chest as you grabbed your hair, tearing at the roots as sobs tore through your throat.

 You must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time you opened your eyes and moved in the pilot's seat pain shot through your back, making you wince. What even woke you up and why were you in the pilot seat? Confused you let out a groan and stretched your back. "Are you alright?" You spun around in shock. The moment your eyes fell onto him you remembered what had happened. "Din!" your voice was sharp but your face was painted with worry. "I should ask you that. Why are you even up here? You should be resting!" You stood up, looked him over and were about to place your hands on his chest when you froze. With your hands hovering over his chest, you stared up at him. The only armor he was wearing was his helmet still but he had put on another shirt. "I'm fine" he said but immediately let out a wince after that. You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right. Sit down" you commented and grabbed his arms to carefully direct him to the pilot seat. You let your hands on his arms as your eyes looked him up and down. "What is still hurting?" you asked and directed your gaze back to the visor. "It's fine" he repeated and let out a strained cough. You shot him a glare that made him clear his throat. "It's just the bruises." You bit your lip, holding your breath as you feared you would start crying again. You let go of him and wanted to sit down onto the co-pilot seat to take some deep breaths before heading down to get him some medications. But he caught your hand in his before you could, pulling you back to him. His visor lowered and he stared at your empty hands, not one single ring was adorning your fingers now. He knew what you had done to get him out of that arena and to say he felt guilty would be an understatement. "Thank you." You shook your head. "The kid healed you, I... I didn't do much" you explained, patting his gloved hand that was still around yours. "No" he shook his head. "Thank you." You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell down to your hands. You furrowed your brows as you looked at your empty hands in sadness. "You gave them all up?" his voice was quiet, barely a whisper his modulator struggled to pick up. You nodded, eyes hardening. "Yeah? They were just stupid metal anyway, don't worry" you blocked with a shrug of your shoulders. You freed your hands from his. "I'm going to check on the kid and get you some painkillers. Don't move" you warned him with a small and what was supposed to be a playful smile but it turned out more like a strained grimace. Even with the false cheerful tone in your voice, you both knew that you had lied about the rings. The traces your tears had left behind were enough prove for that.

  _______________

  To say you didn't notice the absence of your rings, the absence of one in particular, would have been a lie. Even after weeks you still missed the metallic clank they would make whenever you touched something on the ship. You missed absentmindedly twisting the one ring between two fingers. You felt their absence more heavily than when they had been on your hands. You distracted yourself as far as that was possible. The first days you busied yourself with tending Din's bruises. You had already used all of the bacta on him but you had found some salve that should help against the swelling and pain. After maybe a week he was fit again so you had to find another distraction, which was the kid. And when the kid was asleep you busied yourself with repairs on the ship until you would pass out in your own bed. Din wasn't oblivious to your state and you knew that he felt guilty. After all you had traded them in for him. And even if you told him it was alright, you knew he didn't believe you. He would continue to feel responsible for it no matter what you told him which was stupid because his life meant more to you than some worldly possession. You still missed them but you would always act the same. So, you tried to not show him your gloomy state. But he noticed it anyway. He knew what that ring meant to you after all.

 You laid in your makeshift bed -too tired to busy yourself with any work today- while the kid played by your side with something he had found. You only paid attention halfheartedly, just enough to be able to react should he try to eat it. Din had gone out to the nearest town's market, asking you to stay on the ship with the Child. You didn't put up a fight, nodded and laid down immediately after he had left. The less you had to move the better. But Din had been out almost all day now, it was already getting darker and you began to worry. You wanted to grab your comlink you had placed next to you only to find nothing. Sitting up you scanned the floor, but the squeal of the Child attracted your attention. Slowly you turned to him and stared at the thing in his hands: your comlink. You smiled at him and stretched one hand out. "Can I have that back, please?" The Child stared up at you with his big, dark eyes, tilting his head in curiosity. "You can have it back after I called Din" you added. And if he understood you or not was open to debate but he let the comlink fall into your hand either way. "Thanks, buddy" you said and stroker over his head with a strained smile before booping his nose. He squealed in delight. Chuckling you placed him on your lap and let him play with the fingers of your free hand while activating your comlink with the other. "Mando, come in. Where are you?" you asked. No answer. You waited. You were about to repeat your question when the device sprang to life. "I'm on my way back" was all he said before the comlink in your hand fell silent again. Shrugging your shoulders, you gave it back to the kid, watching him play with it more closely than before.

 You were still sitting on your improvised bed, the Child had fallen asleep in your lap, when the ramp on the side of the ship opened up. Unmoving you watched as Din walked in, the ramp closing up behind him again. He didn’t address you but he seemed strangle energetic as he put the supplies he bought away. You raised one eyebrow at him in question but he didn't look your way. Only when he was finished did he walk up to you, coming to a halt a few inches before you. Tilting your head upwards you just watched him questioningly. "I have something for you" he said and by the sound of his voice you were pretty sure he was smiling. With a puzzled look you furrowed your brows. For you and not the Child? He nodded as if he had heard your silent question. Still confused you stood up, sitting the still sleeping kid down in Din's sleeping pot. "What is it?" you asked intrigued, unable to suppress the childlike wonder shining in your eyes. The Mandalorian didn't speak up and instead just opened up his hand. You froze. "What?" With wide eyes you stared at the small silver ring lying in his palm. A ring that looked like two intertwined ones. Your mouth fell open as your eyes shot up to meet his dark visor. "What is this? It's not the original one, it's far too shiny, unworn and too skillfully made but- what?" you rambled before your eyes fell back down. Hesitantly you reached out, grabbing it with two fingers and inspected it in the artificial light of the Razor Crest. The ring was fairly similar but... "It's ... heavy" you stated. Not necessarily 'heavy' just ... it weighted more than the metal rings you had worn before.

 "It's made out of beskar." Your mouth fell open once again as you stared into the black visor. "I let it be made out of a piece of my armor" he sounded strangely flustered, body stiff and unmoving. You were unable to say anything so you just smiled at him. It was small but grateful, the first real smile after you had traded them in. You realized that this was his way of thanking you for your sacrifice. You couldn't suppress the rolling of your eyes. Then your attention went back to the ring in your palm when you suddenly noticed something engraved into the inside of the ring. "What is that?" you asked him, tilting the ring so he could see it too. He chuckled slightly. "May I?" he asked as he reached for the ring. You nodded. He took the ring to read the words out loud to you. With a puzzled look you just stared at him. "It's a phrase in Mando'a" he added. For some reason you felt your face heat up. He let something engrave in it in his native tongue? "What does it mean?" "It translates to: 'I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.' It's supposed to be in remembrance..." he didn't finish but he didn't have to, you knew what he meant. You froze, blinking unmovingly up at the Mandalorian. He stretched out one hand, signaling you to put yours inside. When you did that, he pulled you a bit closer to him and placed the ring on the finger where you had always worn the one made by your father. You were stunned and opened your mouth to thank him but he spoke up first. "I know it won't replace the actual ring but I wanted to give you something because I ... I feel responsible." Your face fell as you drew your hand back. "Din!" you scolded him harshly, making the Mandalorian flinch. You would have laughed at that if you weren't so frustrated. "Stop that! It's okay, they were only metal. Even with the sentimental value it was still just an object." The Mandalorian shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head down as if he was embarrassed. With a heavy sigh you stepped closer to him and grabbed both his hands in between yours. "It hurts to have lost something my father had made" you continued, staring unblinkingly into the black of his visor. "But do you really think I would have let you die for it? You mean more to me than some stupid ring!" Without a second thought or any hesitation you wrapped your arms around Din and hugged him tightly. The armor was a bit uncomfortable but that didn't matter to you in that moment. Burying your face into the cold chest plate you furrowed your brows. "Sometimes you're such an idiot" you mumbled into his chest, tightening your clutch on him. The Mandalorian stood there like a rock, frozen in place and probably with wide eyes. Then, very slowly, he wrapped his arms around you too. And in that moment, everything felt worth it. Silent tears dropped down your cheeks. "I thought you would die, Din!" you pressed out between gritted teeth, burying your fingers into the fabric of his cape. "I thought I-" you couldn't continue as a lump formed in your throat.

Din hummed in an attempt to soothe your tears but it only made you sob more. Slowly he pulled you off of him. Your gaze fell to the floor, silent tears still dropping out of your eyes. When you felt his gloved hands cupping your cheeks you let him direct your gaze back onto him. He had bend down a bit, so your faces were almost level. "I don't know why I'm crying" you said helplessly, your eyes darting over his helmet, searching for an anchor. "It's okay, (Y/N)" he whispered. For a few seconds you just looked at each other in silence before he pressed his forehead against yours. The coldness of the beskar made you shiver as you stared at him wide eyed. "I'm fine." You couldn’t hold back the sobs as you cupped his helmet like he cupped your face. Pressing your forehead against his, you closed your eyes. And suddenly you realized that those tears were all the words you didn't say since that day at the arena. All those worries and fears you had felt in the moments you thought he could be dead already. All those pent-up emotions finally broke free. Only now did your brain realized that Din was alright. And when your tears eventually ran dry, did the fear clutching your heart for all those weeks vanish.

  _______________

  Later that night you sat in one of the co-pilot seats again, watching Din closely as he started the ship and left the planets orbit. Or at least you tried to because your eyes often fell back down to your hand, to the ring Din let be made for you. You two didn't talk much after your tears had finally dried out but you didn't have to. Everything that needed to be said had been with that little gesture of his. With a sigh you sank back further into the seat and took the ring of, twisting it in the light to look at the engraved words once more. A soft smile found its way on your lips. "Hey, Din" you spoke up after a long time of silence in the cockpit. The Mandalorian hummed, tilting his helmet in your direction. "I want you to know that you didn't have to do that for me" you said, staring into the darkness of his visor. "I don't blame you, I never have. I would have gotten over it eventually..." "I know" he answered, turning the seat so he could face you fully. "But I wanted to." He fell silent again but because he was still facing you, you suspected he wanted to say more. So, you waited. "Do you like it?" he finally continued after a long pause. "The ring, I mean." Your smile grew as you nodded. You straightened up and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. "I love it" you whispered, your eyes filled with honesty and gratitude. "Thank you."

[cali-holland]

Risk It All- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader

Prompt: (Royalty!AU) As the princess, you have to hide your relationship with Tom, the stable hand. When your mother sets up a jousting tournament with the prize of your hand, Tom must risk it all to win your heart.

Word Count: 4100

A/N: This is for @geminiparkers ‘s writing challenge under the AU brother’s best friend and the scenario forbidden love and special thanks to @duskholland for proofreading this and correcting me when i literally made up a word

~ Also a melee is a tournament where two groups of knights reenact a battle, and i’m pretty sure we all can picture a joust… but i’m not historically accurate with any of this so oh well

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Moodboard is mine, pics used are not *

~~~~~~

The castle was quiet that afternoon. Harrison was off attending to some royal duties with your mother, and you found yourself making your way down the familiar path to the stables on the far side of the castle. You smiled to yourself as you crossed the cobblestoned road. You pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside, your gown catching the stray pieces of hay that lay on the floor. Your smile grew wider as you saw a familiar figure, reorganizing the hay bales to make room for tomorrow’s import.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Tom said, not even sparing a glance in your direction as you came over to him.

“Are you really going to tell a princess what to do, stable boy?” You asked teasingly, a smile playing on your lips. “No one followed me. We’re safe.”

With a laugh, Tom turned around to face you, dusting the hay from his hands on his raggedy pants. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. You leaned into his touch, your hands roaming underneath his old shirt, ghosting over his abs that rivaled those of any knight in the kingdom. He pulled away, regretfully admitting, “We shouldn’t- the other stable hands will be here soon.”

“Right.” You let out a small sigh, but neither of you made any effort to move out of each other’s arms. “I wish that we could be together, really together.”

“I wish that, too, but you know the law.”

It was a risky business, all of this sneaking around to be together. You were the princess, you weren’t allowed to marry anyone less than a knight, and Tom was a stable boy, whose family served yours for generations. Despite his status, you would trade your silk gowns and other luxuries for him in a heartbeat, but he wouldn’t let you. Tom feared you’d be unhappy if you left your family, your status, your life for him. The rendezvouses were your only chance at being happy with Tom, even for a few moments. If anyone found out and turned Tom in, he could face dire consequences, and it would be out of your power to protect him.

“I have a gift for you.” Tom said, his hand left your side to pull the gift from his pocket. You looked in awe of the delicate necklace. With one diamond hanging from the silver chain, it was simple, but beautiful. It was much smaller than any of your necklaces, ones that had been made from the best jewels in the world, but it was by far the best necklace you’d ever received. You felt a pit grow in your stomach as you realized that this necklace must’ve cost a fortune by Tom’s standards. “I know it’s not much, but I had the village jeweler make it special, just for you.”

“Tom, it’s beautiful.” You smiled at him, “How much did this cost you?”

“Don’t worry about it, princess. It’s a gift, I don’t expect or need repayment.” He insisted, holding up the necklace, “May I?”

You nodded, slowly turning around so that he could put it on you. The chain was long enough that you could conceal the diamond underneath your dress because, while you admired it, it would draw attention to the two of you. You turned back around in Tom’s arms and leaned in to kiss him again.

Hearing the handle to the stable door creak, you and Tom stepped away from each other’s embrace. He returned to his work, moving the bales of hay around, while you turned to your horse, acting as if you were simply in the stable to care for her. When Harrison stepped through the door, you knew you were being beckoned away from Tom.

“Mother would like to see us.” Harrison told you, and you nodded, stepping away from your horse. He turned to Tom, who had paused his actions, “I’ll be going on a hunt tomorrow with the knights. You should come.”

“I’ll have the horses ready.” He replied. Although Tom was not a knight, Harrison always treated him better than a regular stable boy. In fact, you’d dare to say that Tom was Harrison’s best friend with how the two often spent time together, whether it be on a hunt or training. Tom was a knight, all but in name.

You followed Harrison out of the stables, not bidding Tom more than a simple goodbye. As Harrison fell into step beside you on the way to the throne room, you spoke up, “Did mother say why she needed us?”

“No, but it sounded important.” Harrison replied, his shoulders shrugging a little. “What were you doing in the stables?” It wasn’t an accusatory question, but it certainly felt like one. “I was tending to my horse.”

“That’s what the stable hands are for.” He stated. A small smirk grew on his face. In a hushed tone, he teased, “Was there a certain stable hand you wanted to tend to?”

You bit back an unladylike scoff, “There most certainly was not.” You insisted, acting as if you weren’t currently wearing a pendant from said stable hand.

“I have a hard time believing that.” Harrison dropped his voice even quieter as you two came to a halt outside of the throne room.

You didn’t have time to question him before the grand doors opened, and you two were greeted with the guards lining the throne room and your mother sitting rather anxiously on her throne. Hesitantly, you and Harrison stepped forward until you were directly before her.

“Mother, you called for us.” You said graciously.

“Us? No, I asked Harrison to find you, so that I may speak with you alone.” She corrected you, and you looked over at your brother skeptically.

“I thought perhaps Y/N would feel more comfortable with my presence.” Harrison explained. When your mother just nodded, you spoke up again.

“Have I done something wrong?” You asked, your eyes trailing back to your mother in confusion.

“No, my dear. It has come to my attention, though, that you have caught the eye of suitors within and outside of our kingdom.”

“Suitors?” You didn’t want to believe that you heard her right. Surely, she couldn’t mean-

“Prospective husbands. Princes and dukes alike have taken notice that you are of age and without a suitor.” Your mother stood from her throne and stepped towards you, taking your hands in hers. “I have made the decision that there will be a tournament for your hand.”

“Do I not get a say in any of this?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady, but your racing mind, clammy hands, and aching heart made that difficult. All you could think about was Tom and the beautiful necklace secretly dangling around your neck.

“No, our family has done tournaments with the price of the princess’s hand for centuries. Your father had to win a tournament to earn my hand, remember? It will start in two days' time.” You wanted to say something, wanted to tell her that your heart already belonged to the best suitor, but your tongue was caught in your mouth. You wordlessly nodded, though it broke your heart to do so. Your mother smiled and let go of your hands to return to her seat, “It is settled then. The princes and dukes shall arrive tomorrow. We need more servants in the castle to tend to our guests.”

“Will they not bring their own?” Harrison asked, and she shook her head.

“We cannot expect our guests to bring their servants with them. After tomorrow’s hunt, I want all the stable hands to serve our guests.” She insisted. You spared a glance at Harrison, and you could’ve sworn you saw his nose twitch in disapproval. “That’ll be all.”

You and Harrison silently made your way out of the throne room. As Harrison tried to rush off to his bedroom, you grabbed him by the arm, effectively stalling his plans.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “You knew there was going to be a tournament for my hand, and you didn’t say anything. How long has mother been planning this?”

Harrison let out a sigh, “She’s been corresponding with the other princes and dukes for a month, but I promise I only found out today. I wanted to stay because I knew you’d be crushed by the news.”

“Crushed? Harrison, my life is being sold off to the champion of a vicious sport. I’d say I’m well passed crushed.” There was no hiding the bitterness in your voice. You let go of him and turned to leave to your own chambers.

Quietly, Harrison called out to you, “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Harrison didn’t even have to say the name because you both clearly knew it was Tom he spoke of. You looked back at your brother and with a sad nod, you answered, “Yes. He is not a prince or a duke, and I love him anyway.”

The corridor was quiet for a moment before Harrison spoke up again, “Your secret’s safe with me, but be careful. You both mean a lot to me.”

That night, you hardly slept. You couldn’t stop thinking about Tom and the fact that, in mere hours, you’d be meeting the men championing for your hand. When the sun rose, you stood from your bed and watched from your window as the night was replaced by morning. From your tower, you could see Harrison and his group of knights walking across the courtyard to the stables with the castle’s best hounds, where Tom was waiting for them. As the men all settled onto their horses, Tom looked up, his eyes catching sight of you from your window. Though he was far away, you could tell there was a smile on his face.

He didn’t know yet. You didn’t have time to sneak off to see him yesterday, and you weren’t sure how to deliver the news. You stayed at your window, watching as they all rode off through the castle gate and into the nearby woods, the hounds close at the horses’ sides. A knock on your door from your own servants told you it was time to get ready for the day.

“Bit slow this morning?” Tom asked Harrison as he rode beside him on the familiar trail. The knights were ahead of them, keeping up with the hounds as they searched for today’s kill.

“Not particularly looking forward to tonight.” Harrison muttered, an unimpressed look on his face.

“My mother said there were guests coming. Who are they?” It was a simple question, but it stirred a regretful feeling in Harrison. Tom’s mother was the queen’s closest servant— she knew exactly who was coming. Why she didn’t tell Tom, Harrison didn’t know, but he had a guess.

“Suitors.” He replied. “There will be a tournament, beginning tomorrow for Y/N’s hand.”

Tom immediately stopped his horse, coming to a standstill in the forest as the rest of the nights rode on. Harrison halted as well and turned his horse so he could face his friend. “Oh, I didn’t realize-“

“Tom, I know about you and Y/N.” When he registered the fear in his friend’s eyes, Harrison quickly spoke up, “I won’t tell. You’ve always been a good friend to me, and you don’t treat me differently as the crown prince. I have no reason to wish you or my sister that kind of misfortune.”

“Thank you.” Tom said, taken aback by the prince’s words. They continued their walk as Harrison continued his explanation of the dire events to come.

“My mother’s put together an entire tournament, and the suitors will come tonight. She also expects the stablehands to act as servants to the guests.”

“You mean I’d have to serve one of the suitors?”

“I’m afraid so.” Harrison let out a sigh, and Tom grimaced at the thought. Not only was he going to have to sit back while you married some noble prince or duke, but now he’d have to humiliatingly serve your future husband. Harrison paused in thought, “When we get back to the castle, remind me to look over the tournament scrolls.”

“What use are the tournament scrolls to you?” Tom asked.

With a small chuckle, Harrison responded, “I think I know a way you and Y/N can be together.”

Tom opened his mouth to question him, but the hounds barking ahead pulled them back to the reality of the hunt. The two hurried to catch up to the other knights, ready to partake in the hunting party.

That afternoon, when Harrison, Tom, and the rest of the hunting party returned, the word had spread around the castle of the coming guests. While Tom and the other stable hands took care of the horses, Harrison made his way to the castle library. He searched through the library until he came across the specific tournament scroll he had been searching for. With a smirk on his face, he took the scroll and hurried to find Tom before the welcoming ceremony.

Meanwhile, you adjusted the tiara on your head as you looked yourself over in the mirror again. As much as you dreaded this moment, you just wanted this ordeal to be over with; you’d never be truly happy if you weren’t with Tom. When your servants left you alone in your room, you slipped the small diamond necklace on, letting it fall underneath the material of your dress.

“Y/N? It’s time, my dear.” Your mother called to you from the other side of the door. You stepped out of your room, smiling at your mother through your discomfort.

“I’m ready.” You told her. You walked with your mother down the halls and stairs to the throne room. Your names were announced, and everyone parted ways for the two of you to walk down the aisle. Your mother took her seat at her throne, right in the middle, while you sat in your own throne beside her. Harrison was already seated at this throne on the other side of your mother, his own crown shining brightly under the candlelight. Beside your throne was a small desk, and the royal advisor was seated there with a quill and scroll, prepared to take down the names of the princes and dukes.

By just your third “it’s a pleasure to meet you”, you were bored with the welcoming event. None of the princes or dukes or even knights caught your eye as potential husband material. Still, you remained polite in your kind smiles and words of faux genuinity.

“Prince Arthur, your highness.” A young, blond prince said, bowing respectfully to you. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You had heard many stories about him; he was the best jouster in his kingdom. He was by far the most attractive of the suitors. Your eyes didn’t remain on the prince for long as he moved on, and you immediately recognized the next suitor.

“Tom, your highness.” A nervous, yet determined smile played on Tom’s lips while he looked at you. Before you could speak, there was a call from the crowd.

“He’s a stable boy, not a knight!” The bystander exclaimed. Tom’s eyes shifted anxiously over to Harrison, who calmly stood up.

“If he is a stable boy, he cannot-” Your mother started, but Harrison shook his head.

“By law, a tournament is open to any man of age, not exclusively knights or princes or dukes. Tom may proceed in the challenge.” He announced, definitively. 

As your mother went to speak again, you cut her off, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You bit back a smile as Tom proudly walked off.

The names went on, and, with each additional suitor, you wondered if Tom could succeed in this tournament. Tournaments were a demonstration of military and combat skills, both of which he had limited experience of in comparison to the others. It was a deadly tournament; you just hoped he knew what he’d gotten himself into.

While Tom was allowed to enter, he still had to act as a servant to the castle guests, which meant that, later that evening, while all of the other suitors were asleep, Tom had to work. He was used to cleaning equestrian tack as a stable hand, but he wasn’t used to cleaning them in the dead of night. He was already tired from the preparation for and cleanup after the hunt, and now he was stressed over this upcoming tournament. At this rate, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to clean his own armor and tack in time.

Meanwhile, you could hardly sleep again. From your window, you could see the candle light illuminating the stables, and you knew Tom was down there. Grabbing a couple blankets, you slipped out of your bedroom quietly. You snuck down to the stables, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Perched on a hay bale as he worked on polishing a helmet, Tom jumped from the sudden noise.

“You scared me.” He said, quietly, bags already forming under his eyes.

“I thought you might need some company.” You replied, sitting beside him on the hay. As you draped a blanket over his shoulders, he smiled gratuitously.

“You should be sleeping.” Tom insisted. He began to polish the helmet some more, making sure it was spotless.

“So should you.” You cuddled into his side, seeking his warmth from the cold night air in the stables. “It’s going to be dangerous, you know that?”

“Yes, but Harrison and I have been training together, so I can work a sword.” He replied. “Plus, how hard can a melee be?”

“Tom, it’s a joust, not a melee. I don’t think I’d let you fight if it was a melee.” You laughed a little, and he paused his polishing.

“You don’t think I can win a melee?” Tom asked, looking down at you on his shoulder. You sat up to face him properly.

“I don’t know. These suitors all have military backgrounds. And I’d rather run away with you and abandon my title than have you die trying to win my hand.” You answered, quietly. “A joust isn’t nearly as dangerous, but please, be safe.”

“I will.” Tom gave you a quick kiss, “And I will win tomorrow.”

“My knight in shining armor.” You smiled as your hand ran through his hair, appreciating the messy curls.

“I’m no knight, and I don’t know about shining, but it’s armor.” He nodded over to the rusted armor in the corner. “I’m borrowing it from the widowed milkmaid.”

“Tom,” You laughed a little, knowing exactly how that milkmaid was widowed, as if the crack in the breastplate wasn’t a give away enough. “You can’t wear that.”

“What do I wear then? It’s a bit late for me to ask the blacksmith to custom make armor.” He joked with a small yawn, and you shook your head at him, cupping his cheek.

“I’ll handle it.” You assured him as you pulled him in for another kiss. Tom dropped the helmet and the polishing rag, the metal clanging on the cobblestone of the stable floor, and his hands found your waist. Though the next few days would determine your future, tonight was all about Tom.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of the stable door opening. It took you a moment to figure out why you were in the stables before you realized that you had fallen asleep there in Tom’s arms. Tom woke up startled, just the same. You both thought that this could be it, the end of it all, until you realized who was there.

“Y/N, get up before your servants come looking for you.” Harrison urged. You and Tom hurried to stand up and gather blankets. “I thought I told you both to be careful.”

“It was an accident.” You stated, but he just sighed.

“Come on, I need to sneak you into the castle. We can’t have the suitors seeing you like this.” He gestured to your nightgown, which covered you modestly, but he was right; it was rather unladylike to be out in a nightgown. As you and Harrison went to leave the stables, Tom started to finish his job from last night, cleaning Prince Arthur’s armor. “Oh, and Tom, ride my horse for jousting today. He’s never lost a joust.”

Tom looked at his friend incredulously before looking over at the stallion in the stall. “Thank you.”

“That reminds me,” You spoke up, “Harrison, where’s your old armor?”

In just a few hours, it was time for the joust. You sat in the front row of the arena with your mother seated beside you. The suitors began to emerge from their private tents along the sidelines as the announcer called out each name. Harrison came out of Tom’s tent, bearing your own house sigil, and made his way to his seat beside you. Your brother gave you a playful nudge as Tom’s name was called and he stepped out of the tent. It was odd to see him wearing the same armor Harrison had retired just last year, but you felt a sense of pride overcome you. The armor wasn’t bad, but the royal men got new armor every year; besides, Harrison hadn’t been to war, so it wasn’t used much.

The tournament’s first round began, and each suitor got ready for their respective joust. It was a simple jousting tournament; each suitor would take on one other suitor, and the winner would progress to the next round. The rounds would progress until there was one distinct winner left.

You did your best to conceal your nerves for Tom, though one of your hands played with the small chain around your neck. As Tom mounted his horse (technically Harrison’s horse), he got ready for his joust- the first one of the day. He picked up his wooden lance and adjusted the helmet to cover his face. You watched with bated breath while he and his opponent took off, riding towards each other at full speed. A breath of relief coursed through you as Tom’s opponent was struck, falling to the ground.

He had won, but it was the first of many jousts that he had to win. Removing his helmet, Tom sent you a cheeky wink, one that did not go unspotted by your mother beside you. He dismounted and led the horse away, leaving the arena for the next joust.

“So far, so good.” Harrison mumbled to you. He wanted Tom to pull this off, just as much as you did.

“Let’s hope your horse’s winning streak keeps up.” You whispered back to your brother.

The jousting tournament continued on, and every time it was Tom’s turn, the same hopeful nerves came back. Finally, it was down to the last two suitors- Tom and Prince Arthur. As the two got on their horses and into position at either end of the arena, Harrison’s hand slipped into yours, reassuringly squeezing it.

“Come on, Tom.” You muttered under your breath, eyes fixated on him. You held your breath anxiously as the horses went barreling towards each other. Your heart jumped when Tom’s lance made contact with the prince’s armor, and he went crashing to the ground. Tom took off his helmet, and his eyes immediately found you, smiling victoriously.

“He’s a stable boy.” Your mother breathed out incredulously.

“Mother, if he must be a knight to marry Y/N-” Harrison started, ready to wholeheartedly defend Tom, but she cut him off.

“Please, Harrison.” She shushed him, “Prepare the other knights. We’ll have a knighting ceremony this evening. Now,” She paused, smiling at you, “I do believe Y/N has a victor to go meet.”

You looked at your mother in surprise, a smile of disbelief on your face. Wordlessly, you stood up as Tom made his way over to the three of you. He bowed before you, making you let out a laugh. “You won. You did it. And mother will make you a knight, too.”

“A knight? We can really be together then?” He asked you, and you nodded. Without hesitating, Tom wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, happy that now he could kiss you publicly. “I love you, my princess.”

“And I love you, my future prince.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker @miraclesoflove​

Tom Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland

[writings-of-dumpy]

Night Crawling: Punk!George Weasley x Reader Smut

Summary: Based on the song Night Crawling by Miley Cyrus and BILLY FUCKING IDOL.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit.

The lights in the club were daunting to anyone who hadn’t seen them before and a disco ball hung above the lasers and fog. The dance floor was heating up as the night wore on. Fred and George frequented this club and enjoyed their wiles with the mix of witches and wizards. The twins prowled the dance floor and enjoyed the attention from the girls that they got, but they’d never take their flirting too far. They mostly did this to relive the stress of their days and to get out the extra creative energy out of themselves. Not that their clients were particularly testy, but they had become a rather popular tattoo shop in Diagon Alley so busy schedules and time crunches sometimes made their jobs as artists not as fun. George loved being a tattoo artist, though, and wouldn’t change it for anything. Fred felt the same.

The thumping of the club’s music egged George on as he danced like an animal with strangers. He loved the attention his body got from various girls, which he figured was partly why he loved his tattoos and piercings so much. Not very many wizards had recreational body art, but it was becoming more acceptable in their world. Fred and George had started their business idea after venturing through London in their first year and seeing all of the colorful and unique patterns on Muggles' arms. The pair were fascinated and as soon as they were old enough, they both started getting tattoos. George had found that pierced ears were fashionable, too, so he now often sported various jewels and hoops in his earlobes.

His movements were interrupted by the need to use the bathroom. The club had a small and dingy bathroom that was relatively soundproof. Although he had no proof of that, he was sure that nobody would be able to hear anything in the bathroom anyway. He relieved himself and as he turned around to wash up, he accidentally scraped his arm against the bathroom wall.

“Fuck,” he hissed and looked at his arm that was now bleeding. He washed his hands and looked for something to sop the blood up with, but suddenly the door clicked open.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t—are you okay?” a girl in a crop top and mini skirt said to George gesturing to his bloodied forearm.

“Cut meself on the wall there, careful, love,” George said in a charming voice. He looked her up and down and felt his eyes grow hungry. Normally he wouldn't do more than flirt with the pretty girls in the club, but he had never seen her before and the beating in his chest told him he might break that rule.

“Oh no, let me help,” she said and entered the bathroom letting the door close behind her.

George let her sop up the blood with a few paper towels from the dispenser and he let his eyes wander over her body. He felt himself licking his lips as he watched her.

“What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked. The more time he spent with her, the more he seemed to realize that she wasn't the usual girl to walk into a club like this one.

“My friend is getting married next week, we're having a celebration,” she said with a smile. George felt a smile creep onto his face.

“Oh yeah? Congratulations to your friend then! Good of you to celebrate with them,” George said.

The girl smiled and shrugged. “This usually isn't my scene, but I'm glad you think I'm being nice.”

George admired her work and the two cracked a jokes about the dingy bathroom. Once she was done placing a bandage on him that she had pulled from her bag, he caught her chin with his thumb and fingers.

“Thank you...” he said. They made eye contact and George could see that she was blushing.

“It's no trouble at all,” she said to him and made no effort to move away.

“I have the urge to kiss you,” George thought aloud.

“By all means,” she said. He smirked and crashed his lips to hers. Their kiss was sloppy and full of tongue, George was impressed. He'd snogged plenty of girls before, but this kiss gave him meaning. He flicked his wand to lock the door and hoisted her up on the small counter that was attached to the sink. A small moan escaped her lips as George's tongue found its way to her neck.

“I cannot believe I'm making out with a stranger in a club,” she said just above a whisper. George smirked devilishly and kissed her neck more gently.

“What's your name, love?” he asked between kisses along her jaw.

“Y/N... Yours?” she said and gripped his black and loose-fitting shirt.

“George, darling,” he said.“Got a boyfriend?”

“Psh, no,” the girl scoffed.

“Good,” George said and made a dark mark on her neck. He felt connected to this girl. Underneath his exterior, he had always been a hopeless romantic, and this kind of interaction gave his club trips meaning, this was just what he needed.

Their lips found each other again and George pulled her impossibly close to him as they kissed fiercely. He didn't want to push her too hard or make her uncomfortable, so for the most part he let her take the lead. Moans escaped their lips and their kisses became more and more like a fight for dominance that George absolutely won. They found themselves out of breath with Y/N pinned against the wall and George's hands holding her wrists above her head. When their kiss slowed, George let go of her with a smirk and saw the bruises  starting to form on her neck.

“That was nice,” she said with a small laugh.

“Next time I'll take it farther,” George said with a wink and slipped hr a piece of parchment with his number on it. He glanced at himself and saw several bite marks and purple bruises starting to form on his neck and he smirked, then walked back onto the dance floor. He was  hot and bothered, but he didn't want to make a one-night stand of that girl. He wanted to see her again, but was worried he might not be able to control himself.

“What the bloody hell happened to you tonight, mate? You were gone for almost an hour!” Fred asked as they exited the club. “Oh my god, you shagged someone, didn't you! Look at your neck!”

George rolled his eyes. “Not quite, but damn was she hot.”

~*~

The next day, George distracted himself with his work and made sure each client went home happy with their new artwork. He wore the hickies from last night like a badge of honor and reveled in glances toward them. He looked at his schedule and his heart jumped when he saw that his last appointment was under the name Y/N.

As if on cue, Y/N walked through the door and they made eye contact. He smirked widely and strode over to her.

“Well, hello there, Y/N. What can I do for you?” he said with a smooth voice.

Y/N looked shocked, but pleased. “Well, I'd like a tattoo.”

“Perfect, you've come to the right place,” George said with a wink. He brought her over to his station and thanked the heavens that Fred decided to go into the office.

Y/N showed him a picture of some lettering and a heart, and he smiled at her.

“And where would you like it, love?” he asked her. His heart jumped when she pointed to her hip.

“I was thinking here? Do you think that would look good? I don't want it any place too obvious... not that daring yet,” Y/N said with a small laugh.

“That wasn't my impression of you,” George joked. She blushed a deep red and George called her over to his station in the back corner of the shop.

She sat in the chair and George smiled at her as he sat down and drew up the stencil.

“So... can I ask why you haven't given me a ring?” George said. “I won't be offended, I promise.”

“This may come as a shock to you, but I don't often get serious offers. I assumed you were drunk last night,” Y/N said with a hint of sarcasm.

George's face fell and he began to worry. “I wasn't drunk. Were you?”

“Not at all,” Y/N said.

George relaxed and smiled at her, then instructed her to pull her shorts down enough for him to place the stencil. She ended up unbuttoning the pair and pulling half of them down, which gave George a peek at her purple panties. His eyes, he was sure, went darker with lust and his pants tightened as he gently placed the stencil on her skin. He pressed it down gently and he saw goosebumps form around where his hands were.

“Go ahead and look in the mirror and see what you think,” he said and gestured to the mirror behind him on the wall. Y/N smiled and nodded, then walked past him and looked in the mirror. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander across her, and he snapped his head away as she looked up. He remembered the way she felt against him and smiled to himself as he got set up for her tattoo.

“Looks great!” Y/N said and turned to him with her thumb holding her panties and shorts down. George smiled and patted the bench for her to lie on once again and he put his gloves on.

“You ready, doll face?” he asked her. She nodded and he got to work.

“Oh. This isn't bad at all,” she remarked once he had made a few strokes. He laughed.

“Some people are more dramatic than others...” he said. He smiled at her and finished the tattoo in pretty short order what with it not being very big. She smiled widely at the finished product and thanked him.

“Alright, I'll wrap it,” he said and pulled out the cling wrap from his drawer. He ripped off a long piece and started smoothing it over her middle. He noticed her lick her lips and her chest started to move quicker. He smiled devilishly and dangerously slowly smoothed the wrap over her middle.

“George...” she whispered breathlessly. George smiled and ran his hand over her back and kissed her neck.

“Gotta listen when the Devil's calling, love,” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh, yeah? And what's being said?” she said with her head tilted toward him.

“Fuck this girl,” he said in her ear and bit her lobe lightly. He gripped her hips, careful of her new ink, and pressed himself against her. He flicked the sign to closed and locked the door with his wand and turned her to him.

“Well I suppose we should do that, then,” Y/N said and no sooner did she finish speaking did George have her pinned to the opposite wall and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. She moaned and he ground his hips against her. His hands smoothed over her chest and then slipped under her shirt. He grabbed a fistfull of her breast and squeezed, eliciting a moan from her.

“Sometimes my thoughts are violent, dear,” he whispered into her ear.

“Sometimes I stab people in the back,” she responded with a suggestive look.

George made quick work of getting her naked and on the couch that sat in their waiting area. He attached his lips to her breasts and sucked and bit much like he did to her neck the night prior. His hands freed his throbbing dick from the confines of his pants and he hovered over her.

George grinned and slipped his hand over her chest and wrapped it around her throat. Her eyes went wide in delight and he smiled after confirming that this was a welcome move. In one quick motion he applied pressure to her neck and thrust into her. He was egged on further by the guttural noises that she emitted. The wet and warmth that surrounded him sent his body into a frenzy. He bucked into her and howled like a maniac in response to her moans.

“Fuck, baby doll, never knew I'd get such a good shag,” he moaned in her ear.

“George, don't stop,” she gasped out.

“Oh darling, I'm not stopping until we're done,” he assured her. His hand moved from her throat to her nipple. He pinched it hard and sent her to arch her back and nearly scream in pleasure.

“George!” she howled. George momentarily looked up to make sure he was out of view of the office and saw Fred with headphones on facing the other way.

“That's it, baby girl,” he moaned. He hoisted her up and pressed her against the wall and fucked into her with purpose. She WOULD come for him.

He could tell he was getting close but he refused to hold out on her. He pulled out of her and directed her to crawl on all fours and he pressed into her from behind. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her up so her back was against his chest. Her hands wandered over her body until she started circling her clit.

“Oh-ho-ho, baby that's it... come on dirty little girl,” George encouraged. He could feel his own climax approaching and suddenly, Y/N went rigid and cried out for him with breathless gasps. He laid her down on the couch once more and finished into the bin next to the couch with a deep moan and cry of her name.

“That was intense,” Y/N commented and reached for her clothes. George laughed and dressed himself next to her.

“I've never done that before,” he admitted.

“Me either... Now, how much for the tattoo?” she asked and pulled out her wallet.

“A date,” George said. “A real one.”

Y/N blushed. “Alright...”

[basicjetsetter]

The Fall of Deus

♡ Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x BlackFemale!Reader

♧ Setting: The Terrace Room in The Plaza Hotel, New York

♤ Warnings: Heavy Suspense, Language, Adult Themes, Violence, Gambling, Drinking

♢ Word Count: 6.5k

☆ A/N: No joke, this took me about two years to conceptualize. Two freaking years. But I can 100% say it was worth it to write every word. This is by far one of my most creative works and I love that I get to finally share it with you all. Please hit like if you enjoy it, leave me a lil’ comment and a reblog if you love it. Happy reading!

You couldn’t help but notice and admire how pretty the sky appeared when it was tinged in the auroral haze of an autumn morning and backdropped by the twinkling glass panes of New York’s notorious skyscrapers. Though autumn’s end isn’t for a couple of weeks, the lukewarm season allowed Manhattan a preview of winter’s frigid air. The city's constant roar hummed down to a distant lullaby as you walked up the steps and in through the doors of the Metropolitan Detention Center.

It’s an impressively modern building, one you’ve become intimately familiar with in the past couple of years. Everything inside screams order, from the plain white, bleach-scented linoleum floors to the rows upon rows of caged boxes containing a range of one-time offenders, serial criminals, and constant jailbirds. The first time you ever entered the establishment, it struck you just how much the atmosphere felt devoid and depraved, almost as if hope and happiness got stopped, frisked, and turned away at the door. You never liked staying more than necessary.

None of the four guards stationed along the main lobby walls paid you any attention as you marched up to the reception desk. Their inattention didn’t spawn out of contempt but out of fear. They knew who you were here for.

The receptionist, on the other hand, wouldn’t care if the Queen of England herself hop-scotched through the front entrance, bowed, and bestowed him the coveted Royal Crown on a jewel-encrusted platter.

He certainly never took an interest in your frequent visits. The first time you set foot into this building, a bright-eyed attorney anxious to speak with her first client, the oaf of a man merely grunted at your carefully constructed introductions and waved you off like a pesky fly. On a typical day, your exchange of words consisted of him curtly asking you to state your business while he half-listened to your response and stabbed at his keyboard with blunt fingers. Detaching his gaze from the monitor might have required exhaustion of his half-assed energy.

Today wasn’t unlike any other day. Phillips told you your client's location, even though you both knew the area by heart. Third floor. Cell Block E. Number 7. Always Number 7. Lucky Number 7.

Most of your ordinary clients got shipped to this facility and locked up with the rest of the inmates until you picked up their case. Unlike this particular client you planned on springing today, those other men lacked the say-so to determine their cell. None of them came close to his status. They didn’t have the power nor the money to hire a personal attorney, and none of their crimes could ever match those of the calculated, cunning man who controlled all New York's avenues and boulevards.

In the streets, he’s known as Deus. Depending on how close you are in his circle, he's either Parker or Pete. The name in the system is Peter Benjamin Parker. Your fiancé.

| Last Evening  |

“Stop fidgeting with your collar, Peter.”

“This fucking bowtie keeps… shit… it keeps choking me.” He growled out his frustration. “I’m going to fire that damn stylist.”

You threw him an exasperated glare as he ripped off the accessory. “Maybe if you hadn’t told him to pick any old bowtie, you wouldn’t be whining so much.”

“Remind me again why you're forcing me to wear this, anyway?” He paused for effect, placing his hand under his chin like Rodin’s The Thinker, and then snapped his fingers in dramatic realization. “Oh, right! Because Stark is a pretentious asshole, who thinks tuxedos are mandatory at all events thrown in his honor.”

Peter may hate the idea of wearing a formal tuxedo for the whole night, but you were going to enjoy every last minute of him in that attire, mainly because he resembles a model who stepped right off the page of a GQ cover. The low-lighting in this limousine certainly did its best to heighten your mood, highlighting the sharp angles of Peter’s clenched jaw. You’d have to remember to send Pepper a Thank You basket for planning the event as Black Tie.

“Can you at least pretend to get along with Tony tonight?” To see if his jaw could tighten any further, you coyly add, “He is the new Governor of New York, after all.”

Mission accomplished. Peter leaned his head back against the headrest and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, the light that glinted off of his platinum Rolex creating a scattered array of lights against the black leather seats. You pried your eyes off the extension of his neck as he spoke. “Great,” he huffed. “That’s exactly what I need right now. A gloating Stark who’s now legally duty-bound to hound my ass. One more thing to think about.”

As the limo pulled up to a slow halt in front of the Plaza Hotel, you grabbed one of Peter’s hands and held it until his eyes met yours. You gave him a reassuring smile and said, “Everything’s going to be alright, baby.”

The driver opened the door before Peter could speak and held out his gloved hand for you. You’ve been to the Plaza Hotel on many occasions, mostly business, and yet the sight of the château-styled building at night, with its myriad of lit windows and its luxurious lobby never ceased to leave you breathless. The view effectually took your gaze away from Peter’s tux, but not for long. The moment he stepped out of the limo, bathed in the golden light of the building, you felt transfixed all over again.

Peter discreetly tipped the driver and then turned to face you, clearly not as impressed with the Plaza Hotel as you were. He placed his warm hands on the swells of your hips and pulled you in front of him. His eyes appraised you, from your stiletto heels to your tight-fitted, off the shoulder evening dress, traveling up to your chunky Senegalese twists elegantly laid over your shoulder. He let out a low whistle and said, “If looks could kill…”

You straightened his collar and opened up the top button of his gingham dress shirt for both your sakes, then swiftly leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Parker.”

He wolfishly grinned as you quickly detached yourself from his borderline caressing hold. You knew he’d want more than a short kiss, but you couldn’t afford to get sidetracked tonight.

“Behave,” you chided.

“And if I don’t, future Mrs. Parker?” he prodded, a huskiness in his tone that sent a delicious shiver through you. His steps slowly brought him closer and closer to where you stood, and you weren’t sure if you’d have the will power to move away again. One proper kiss wouldn’t hurt…

A disembodied voice groaned in your ear. “Book a room!”

Peter chuckled unabashedly. “Sorry, Ned.” Though he tried to appear unaffected, Peter made an effort to clear his throat and tugged at his collar. “You ready on your end?”

“Yeah. Mic’s clear. Computer’s up and running. I’m all set. Can’t say the same for you two.”

You glance accusingly at Peter, who waggled his eyebrows at you. “We’re ready. Sorry about that. You know how Peter gets when I wear twists.”

Ned verbally shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I still refuse to sit on my couch, by the way, even after washing it four times! You owe me a new couch, dude. For my trauma.”

Peter half-heartedly grinned at the ground and said, “Dude, if we pull this off, I’ll buy you a whole new furniture set.” The one half of his grin faded away, replaced with a grim line of determination and sobriety. “Where’s he at?”

A few clicks rang through your ear-piece, then Ned replied, “Not far. About twenty minutes away, on Queens Boulevard in Elmhurst. Might be a while before he reaches the Plaza, though. There’s a jam on the bridge.”

“Cool, thanks. Keep us updated.” Peter didn’t want you to catch his expression, but you didn’t need to directly see it to realize he’s in business mode, cold and calculated, little to no warmth or playfulness left in his brown eyes.

Copying your move, he took your hand and held it until you both stared at each other. Briefly, with your eyes locked in place, he searched for any sliver of doubt, giving you one last option to ditch and save face while he executes the plan solo. You did not doubt that he and Ned could somehow pull it off without so much as a hiccup. Odds always work in Peter’s favor. For the past three years that you’ve known him, he’s never lost a gamble. Tonight, though, the gamble must include you, a new piece to his complicated game—a variable. If anything were to head south, the last thing Peter would want is to implicate you.

You understood the risks: the potential loss of your career, your squeaky clean record, and possibly your life. You wouldn’t be here, with him of all people, if you didn’t trust the plan. So you didn’t sway, letting your eyes confirm where you stood on the matter. I’m sticking with you. This exchange passed in absolute silence, ending with a small nod and a lingering kiss to your palm.

It’s always surprising to see Peter without a trace of humor or good-nature in his eyes. It took you a while to acclimate to his night and day demeanor and even longer to trust which emotions were real and which served a purpose. As he slides a cocky smile back onto his face, one that graces every part of his features, and holds out his arm for you, you knew. He’s in his element.

The game’s begun.

♢ ♤ ♡ ♧

Not even five seconds into the Terrace Room and your jaw hit the floor. Pepper sure knows how to out-do herself.

The room displayed the same historic French charm as the outside façade, but much more grand, decorated with multiple crystalline chandeliers, large stone semicircular archways, and classical art adorning the ceilings. Somehow, Pepper’s touch of cream-colored table cloths, bouquets of immaculate white peonies, golden napkins, and floating candle holders added the perfect ambiance for Tony’s celebration.

True to his fashion.

The Man of the Hour is currently giving his speech at the head table as the Maître D’ checks your reservation and prompts a server to escort you and Peter to your table. It’s located not too far away from Tony's, near a stone wall and a divider separating the other tables. You weren’t entirely familiar with the three people who were already seated, but they graciously offered quiet nods of welcome. Peter grabbed your chair for you and smoothly pushed you in before taking his seat next to you while you strained to catch the last bits of Tony’s speech.

“… and I can truly say that without you, my amazing colleagues, friends, and organizers present tonight, this win would not have been possible. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And um, yeah. Thank you, all.” Tony lifted his champagne flute into the air with a flourish and a winning grin. Peter rolled his eyes. “Here’s to an awesome four years as New York’s new Governor.”

Everyone stood up to give him a round of applause, Peter’s claps more grudging than encouraging, but you were glad he put in some effort. When he looked your way, you flashed him a loving smile and mouthed Thank you. He rolled his eyes again, playfully this time, and quirked his mouth up in an amused grin.

Live music picked up as soon as Tony took his seat, soft jazz that blended well with the onslaught of muffled chatter and clinks of silverware against glass plates. Servers incrementally brought out the main course of roasted beef filet dressed in tomato tarragon sauce and a side of arugula salad. Peter stifled a chuckle as he heard your stomach growl when a server placed the plate of food in front of you.

As another server leaned in to pour you a glass of wine, you held out a hand and gave him a polite smile. “No, thank you. May I just have some water, please?”

The young man nodded, but Peter piped up before he could head off. “Got anything stronger back there? Bacardi? Whiskey? Rum?”

“We have Vodka, sir,” the server stuttered out.

“Excellent. I’ll take a whole bottle of that,” Peter grinned and pressed a couple of $100 bills into the man’s palm. Peter’s effect on people never got tiring to witness. He and the server appear to be around the same age, somewhere near the 25-year mark, yet Peter's vibe reduced the server to stutters. You’d say the tux assisted with his air of importance, but you’ve seen Peter have that same effect on businessmen while wearing a shirt that read “I lost an electron. Are you positive?” and plaid pajama bottoms.

The server vigorously nodded. “Right away, sir.”

“Don’t drink too much,” you cautioned in a tone low enough for only Peter’s ears. “You know how you get, and I don’t want Tony to have an excuse to place cuffs on you.”

Peter scoffed and mumbled around a bite of salad, “If I looked at him wrong, Tony would cuff me.”

“Now that’s a little presumptuous, ain’t it, Petey?”

You jumped up from your seat and wrapped Tony up in a hug he warmly returned. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, Governor Stark.”

Tony waved a hand, yet a big smile remained plastered on his face. “Ah, come on. It was bound to happen. Policy is the new name of the game, but I’ll sure miss that courtroom. You missy, on the other hand, deserve all the praise in the world. Best and youngest attorney in the whole state. Mentored by yours truly.” He trailed off, glancing in Peter’s general direction. “Though I question why you waste your talents on the likes of him.”

Now sitting ramrod straight in his chair, Peter slanted his eyes toward yours as you silently pleaded with him to be cordial. Once he brought his eyes back to Tony, he jerked up his chin in recognition. “Stark.”

Tony nodded at Peter. “Baby-faced Criminal.”

“Hey, now!” Pepper swooped in, pulling Tony back a little so she could see you better. “Just look at you! Always a beauty in everything you wear,” she gushed, then put on a stern face for Tony and Peter. “No roughhousing, tonight, boys. I mean it.”

“I was just making a valid critique on my star pupil's decision to become the Personal Attorney to a well-known arms dealer, is all,” Tony defended. He threw up his hands and drew up an innocent expression that might have worked had it not looked so derisive.

Pepper, pursing her lips, nodded sagely. “Right. Okay. So you were being an ass?”

“Pep!” Tony protested incredulously. Peter didn’t even try to hide his triumphant smirk.

You rolled your eyes in defeat. Oil and water can never mix, no matter how hard you try. No, Tony did not take the news of you becoming Peter’s PA well, and he’s made sure to rake you over the coals bout it every time the chance arises. You’ve been Peter’s attorney coming up on two years, and there’s not a sign from either of them that the grudge will ever be let go, not even for your sake, though they do try when threatened.

“I want you two to say something nice to each other and then let the rest of the night go on in peace. Go ahead,” Pepper ordered, indicating for Tony to go first.

Tony took in an excessive amount of air, then puffed it out. “Alright, Parker. Um… I like how you ostensibly don’t know the rules to a Black Tie Event.” He ended with a gesture to Peter’s lack of a bowtie. The poor thing lies in a mangled heap on the floor of the limousine.

Peter ticked up his eyebrow. “I like how the stick up your ass seems to reach new heights every time we speak, Stark.”

Pepper sighed and grabbed Tony’s arm. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’ll take what I can get. Come on, you. There are many more guests to greet.” She tugged him along, throwing you an apologetic smile over her slim shoulder as they walked away.

Almost out of earshot, you could hear Tony say, “He calls himself Deus, for Christ's sake!”

They left you two in heated silence. Peter refused to meet your glare, instead choosing to chug down the freshly set out champagne flute filled with Vodka. He immediately flushed as he poured himself another glass full.

“Peter—” you started.

“Don’t say it. I tried, alright?” He slumped against the back of his seat, then shot you a surly frown. “You didn’t even mention our engagement to him. Again.”

You looked down at your untouched food, suddenly not hungry.

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Were you ever going to tell him?”

An anchor of guilt plummeted to the pit of your stomach, chasing away the desire to eat anything for the next few hours. Your answer came out sounding whittled and nearly swallowed by the music. “Pepper knows.”

“And that tells me all I need to know,” said Peter, pushing away from the table and taking the bottle of Vodka with him.

You tried to stamp down the rise of startled panic by clearing your throat and evenly asking, “Where are you going?” A high octave managed to slip in on the last word.

“To socialize. Play some cards. Place a few bets. Criminal stuff. You want in?” He didn’t wait for you to answer, moving further and further away as a wave of hot anger replaced your shame. “Oh, my bad. Sorry. I forgot you probably don’t want your mentor seeing you ruin your perfect image with, what was it? The likes of me?”

He swaggered off, not a mere hint of his hurt evident in his show of arrogance.

You gingerly sat back in your seat, careful to ignore the inquiring stares from those who caught most of the argument. Your nails came close to puncturing your palms, and if your jaw clamped any tighter, it would snap. An annoying, persistent inner voice chimed out, He’s right, you know. It was probably Ned.

You understood Peter enough to know that Tony not being clued in on your engagement wounded him. He told everyone in his life about you—told Aunt May the second you finally agreed to go on that first date with him, nearly shouted to all the rooftops in Queens “SHE SAID YES!” when he proposed three months ago. Yet here you are, dragging your heels on telling Tony, one of the most influential people in your life, that you’re marrying the love of your life. He wouldn’t understand. Or, rather, he would, and he’d abhor your decision.

You’re not sure you could ever explain to Tony how Peter is your favorite star in the night sky. A big, glowing ball of light you spend hours upon hours admiring and appreciating. One that just burns brighter than all the rest.

Your engagement ring sparkled at you, winking as you moved it side to side and marveled at the simple yet elegant details of the inlaid sapphires and diamonds. Peter told you he picked it out a week before the proposal, but you knew he carried it around in his pocket for months, biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. When he asked, you couldn’t say yes fast enough. At that moment, Tony and his aversion to Peter never crossed your mind, but it’s lingered ever since.

Guilt returned as a salve for your anger.

“Trouble in paradise?” asked a woman sitting at your table, a slight accent in her voice. She appears to be young, almost too young to be at this function. The glimmer in her eye and the hitch in her smile denoted a wise person. Goddess braids sat on top of her head like a crown, and she’s wearing a simple black dress with pearl studs that nicely accentuates her dark brown skin.

You uncurled your hands and blew out a held-in breath, kindly smiling back. “Something like that.”

She held out a hand. “Shuri Udaku.”

That name came with an inkling of recognition, but you couldn’t quite place it. You shook hands with the young woman, giving her your name. When you momentarily looked at your clasped hands, your eyes dropped down to catch the jewelry on her wrist. They weren’t pearls like her earrings. They were onyx and emblazoned with ivory symbols on each bead: Kimoyo beads, a technological revolution currently sweeping the nation, manufactured only by one woman. The realization hit you hard. “Hold on a second. The Shuri Udaku? Founder of Vibranium Tech, Shuri Udaku?”

“The one and only,” she answered, her smile growing wider.

This confirmation launched you into a field of questions and acknowledgments. It turns out she knows of your work as New York’s youngest attorney, but you know a bit more about her line of work because Peter always voiced his interest in her growing business. On the surface, Vibranium Tech is like any other technology company, issuing out new and improved ways of communication and medical treatment. In the underground, there’s been rumors of her interest in creating weapons—technological weapons unlike any the arms dealing business has seen before.

You didn’t want to bring up that facet of knowledge just yet. The normal conversation worked wonders on you, loosening your tense muscles and clamped jaw, all of them singing sweet relief once your body naturally released the tension.

“So, did I hear Tony correctly when he said your partner is the Deus?”

You winced and found yourself searching the room for a glimpse of your fiancé. He’s commandeered a table in the back of the venue, showing off his black and gold deck of playing cards to a group of interested guests itching to play a hand.

“Yeah, that would be him.”

“That’s so badass,” Shuri mused, leaning in conspiratorially. “Is he like the mob bosses in TV shows and movies? Like does he have henchmen? Bad-temper? High-speed car chases with the police?”

You genuinely laughed. “Not exactly. Henchmen, kind of. Bad temper is rare. And he’d never shut up about having a high-speed car chase with the police. No, he’s a little more lowkey than all that.”

Long ago, back when you were innocent to the life Peter led, you assumed that that’s precisely what it entailed—an exhilarating life of high stakes, exorbitant amounts of money, strong-armed goons, and reckless shoot-outs. That might be the case for a few bosses, but not Peter. He’s too strategic, and the ins-and-outs of his trade are too complicated to pin on just one person.

“Well, I, um…” she stopped, considered her words. You unconsciously drew in closer. “I may have a business offer for him.”

You kept your smile on, but it felt more commercial-like than friendly. “What type of offer?”

Shuri gulped down a generous amount of her red wine, then darted her eyes side to side before speaking lowly. “Would he be interested in high powered weapons?”

You raised your eyebrows but kept up your cool front. “Depends. In exchange for what?”

“Protection.”

A voice in your ear announced, “He’s here.”

You ignored it, focusing on Shuri. “From who?”

Shuri peeked around again to make sure no one paid any attention to your private conversation, but her examination stopped at the entrance. “From him.”

You cautiously slid your eyes to the main entrance, heart hammering a thunderous rhythm in your chest.

Brock Rumlow. Peter's rival and leader of a group named the Scorpions. A peddler/enforcer for the East Coast's largest mob: Hydra. Of course he’d try to pressure Shuri for the weapons.

He didn’t come dressed according to the occasion, opting for his usual tight-fitted black Tee and gray tactical pants. The visible half of his tattoo, a scorpion’s tail curling out from the cuff of his shirt, stood out against his tan skin. Two other men stood behind him, wearing almost identical clothes to Rumlow and sporting the same scorpion tattoo on their right bicep, not exactly hiding that they carried concealed weapons. All the voices in the room hollowed out to stiff silence, and even the band took its cue to halt. Your eyes found Tony in time to see his jaw tick for the briefest moment, and then he slid right back into a restrained version of his good cheer.

“Hey, hey! This is still a party, people,” Tony called out, addressing the guests. “Eat, talk, have a good time.” He signaled to the band to pick up the music, then crossed the room to chat with Rumlow. You’ve never seen him so keyed up.

You touched Shuri’s hand comfortingly, not taking your eyes off Rumlow. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She deflated gratefully. “Thank you.”

You nodded, already out of your seat and rushing to the back of the room, stopping short once you arrived at Peter’s table. He’s thoroughly invested in this round of poker, glancing back and forth from his cards to the nervous twitches of the five men and one woman at the table. You recognized four of them: Judge Nicholas Fury, Lieutenant Steve Rogers, Manhattan’s Chief of Police Sam Wilson, and District Attorney Natasha Romanoff. Sweat is perspiring on Steve’s forehead, Sam’s leg can’t stop bouncing up and down, and even Natasha, a woman known for keeping her cool while in the line of fire, is chewing on her lower lip. Fury's not fazed. He just seems tapped out.

From what you can estimate, about six hundred dollars lies in the middle of the table.

Sam and Steve speak at the same time. “I’m out.”

The other men followed suit, muttering their defeat. Fury dropped his cards down on the table facedown.

Peter wickedly grinned, zeroing in on Natasha. “Got any last words?”

Natasha squinted her eyes at his taunt. “Kiss my ass, Parker.” She put her cards down face up, showing her hand, and quirked up an eyebrow that dared him to top that: three Queens and a pair of twos. Full House.

Peter laid down his hand. Four 3’s and an ace. Four of a Kind.

A chorus of fucks circled the group as Peter cleared the table of the crumpled bills. Two new bottles of opened Vodka sit on the table as well, along with seven shot-glasses. Steve’s glass remains untouched, but the others look like they’ve drained two shots each.

“Bucky’s gonna kill me for losing so much money,” Steve muttered, twirling around his wedding band.

Sam sadly shook his head. “Dammit, man. I thought we had him this time, too.” He eyed Peter with suspicion. “What you got, kid? X-Ray vision?”

Peter ran a hand through his hair, causing a few curls to escape its sleek style. “Nah, jus’ luck.”

“Yeah, well, here’s to hoping your luck runs out,” said Fury, raising his shot glass and slamming it back.

You inched closer to Peter’s side. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes are glazed over. You wonder how he’s even capable of sitting up, let alone playing people out of their money.

“Peter,” you whispered, putting your hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t shake you off. “Rumlow’s here.”

The remaining people at the table began to disperse in a collective gripe of loss. Peter didn’t say anything, only jerked his head in acknowledgment.

Your hand itched to slap him back into reality. “Peter, baby, listen. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I should have told Tony about our engagement.” Desperation sapped into your words. “It was stupid and childish not to, and as soon as I get the chance, I’ll tell him. But for the love of God, this is not the time to—”

“Well, well, well! Look who we got here! Deus, in the flesh!” boomed a disturbingly baritone voice. Rumlow, shadowed by his two men, plopped down in one of the empty chairs, sitting right across from Peter. He glanced at Peter first, then languorously landed his gaze on you. “And who’s this pretty lady you got here?”

“My fiancée,” answered Peter monotonously. He said it as if the words synonymously meant: just some chick. A dull kind of ache slashed through your chest as you dropped your hand back down to your side and took two steps away from him.

Rumlow pretended to miss the interaction, appearing to be in deep thought, and then clapped his hands once. “Oh! The attorney. I don’t believe I ever formally introduced myself.” He offered his large hand to you, grinning with his whole teeth on display. “Name’s Brock Rumlow.”

You reluctantly let him take your outstretched hand. His skin is blazing hot, to the point where your hand nearly felt suffocated. He brought it to his lips for a small kiss that twisted your stomach in knots. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rumlow.”

Rumlow winked. “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart. And call me Brock.”

“Fuck do you want, Rumlow?” Peter bit out, picking the cards up off the table and shuffling them.

“Ooh,” tsked Rumlow. He made sure to lay another grin on you just to irk Peter. “Come on, Parker. Can’t a guy just enjoy some company once in a while? It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.” He watched Peter’s movements, the cards haphazardly sliding back and forth from one hand to the next. “Playing cards, huh? You up for a quick game?”

You butt in with a pressed laugh. “Actually, we were just leaving.” Drunk Peter is overly confident. If Rumlow found that out, you knew he’d take Peter for everything he’s worth.

“So soon?” Rumlow glanced down at his watch. “It’s not even ten yet. What’s the rush?”

Peter cut you off. “No rush. I’m staying. You play Draw Poker?”

“ ‘Course I play Draw Poker, but that seems too simple for you, Parker. Don’t you wanna make it hard for me? A little Texas Hold ’em?”

“Draw Poker,” said Peter, splitting the deck against the table and flexing the cards enough to have them rapidly collapse into place. “Take it or leave it.”

A dark, mischievous smile brewed on Rumlow’s face as he watched Peter fumble with the deck and, at some point, entirely losing his grip. You discreetly watched him size up his opponent, dismayed to find that he likes the assessment. Hair is stubbornly falling into Peter’s eyes, eyes that anyone a mile away could point out are bleary and bloodshot. The flush from earlier deepened on his neck and flashed scarlet across his face—an easy target for a skilled player.

“Deal me in.”

The first game played out exactly as you feared it would. Rumlow and Peter agreed on a $100 ante to get the ball rolling, both pulling out a single bill from their pocket and placing it in the middle of the table, then they settled for a pot-limit. Though Peter’s shuffling skills lacked his usual finesse, he expertly dealt each of them a hand of five cards.

You leaned against the back wall with your arms crossed over your chest and watched the game unfold. Rumlow processes his hands at the speed of a bullet, snapping his eyes to his cards once he’s drawn, and immediately discards the ones he doesn’t like when it’s his turn. Other than the minutest crinkle in the corner of his left eye, you couldn’t tell when he felt confident or when he bluffed. He gave nothing away, not even an involuntary scratch to his five o’clock shadow. He was so in the zone he began to partake in the Vodka bottle close to his side of the table, swigging straight from the mouth.

On the other hand, Peter moved as if a millisecond was the equivalent length of ten years, scanning his cards more than several times with pursed lips, looking up at Rumlow, scanning his cards again, once, twice, three times, then reluctantly discarding some. He frequently shoves a hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyesight, but the same unruly strands find their way back to impede his vision. He scratches the shell of his ear when he’s about to draw, and Rumlow’s picked up the tell.

Rumlow never even had to do more than call. The confident drunk in Peter always raised.

The pot increased to about $1400 before Peter folded his hand.

As Rumlow collected his winnings, he suggestively lifted his eyebrows at Peter. “Care for round 2?”

Confident drunk Peter never backs down, even when he’s the dumbass who can’t remember that he’s brought fists to a gunfight.

You step back up to the table and put a restrictive hand on Peter’s wrist to keep him from picking up the cards. “Enough, Peter. You’re done. Let’s go home.”

“No, I’m not done,” he said, snatching his arm away from your touch. “Go talk to Tony or somethin’. I’ve got this.”

Rumlow caught your bewildered stare and shrugged his broad shoulders, a gesture that didn’t match his cocky smile. He has Peter right where he wants him, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him because Peter is a willing participant running on alcohol and no critical judgment.

You should have left right then and there, but your feet stayed rooted to the floor. You couldn’t leave Peter like this. Sighing, you pulled up a chair to the table and sat beside Peter.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on him,” said Rumlow, putting on a smile too sardonic to be comforting. Too artificial to be genuine.

His lie didn’t surprise you. The hole Peter dug himself did.

The second round went similarly to the first. Flash decisions from Rumlow and molasses-like contemplation from Peter. This time, though, the ante came up to $200. As far as you knew, Peter is only carrying about $2500 in his pockets.

By the time the fourth round started, Peter’s Rolex lies on the table. The ante is up to $1000. Somehow the pot-limit became no-limit.

By the fifth round, Peter made paperless bets. Ante is $10,000. Rumlow knew Peter’s pockets went deep, and he’d keep at it until he struck gold.

Nothing you said stopped him. Peter hadn’t won a single hand. He’s desperate for at least one good hand; he’s got something to prove.

Rumlow kept drinking with each win.

By the seventh round, a crowd is around the table, watching in horrified interest as Peter raises the bet to one million dollars. The most significant amount you’ve ever seen him bet. So far, he’s held this hand for three draws.

Peter’s hair lost all semblance of its previous style, hanging over his forehead in disarray. He’s hunched over in his chair, his jacket’s off, and he’s rolled up his dress shirt’s sleeves to his elbows. His group’s signature tattoo stands out stark against his inner wrist: a roughly sketched spider.

Rumlow, eyes now as bloodshot as Peter’s and face just as flushed under his tan skin, asks, “Think you got something, Parker?”

“Do you?” Peter countered.

“I just might.” Rumlow ran a finger against his bottom lip, then smiled at his hand. “Why don’t you say we make this last Showdown a little more interesting, eh?”

A terrible queasiness wrapped around your gut.

Peter listened intently, his silence Rumlow’s indication to continue.

“$10 million. And the best trading routes. Including foreign connections. I want everything you got.”

You turned to Peter, placing your hand on top of his until he finally looked at you. Your eyes begged him to listen to you for once tonight. “Please don’t do this.”

His reply sounded tortured. “But I can. I have to.”

“Is winning really worth losing everything?” you asked, your voice cracking.

Rumlow chuckled ominously. “Oh, that’s not everything, sweetheart. We both know what’s left.” He gave you a meaningful stare.

Your eyes widened in disgust.

Peter snapped his gaze to Rumlow. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“No, but I want her. Imagine having New York’s best attorney in my arsenal. How many charges has she saved your sorry ass from, Parker? Five? All felonies, right? You lucky son of a bitch.” Rumlow’s smile is sinister. “Not that lucky tonight, huh?”

Peter spoke through gritted teeth. “Back off, Rumlow.”

“To have Deus wrapped around her finger, she must be pretty damn good. Is she, Parker?” goaded Rumlow, ignoring Peter’s warning. “Is she any good?”

Instinct controlled your hands as they seized Peter’s cards before he launched himself over the table and landed an ear-splitting blow to Rumlow’s jaw. Rumlow must’ve known the punch was coming. Still, he hadn’t expected the impact to be that forceful because his eyes blinked in astonishment. The two men behind Rumlow didn’t react fast enough, missing Peter as he stood above Rumlow, grabbed the handgun hidden in the waist of his pants and pressed the muzzle deep into Rumlow’s temple, finger on the trigger.

Rumlow shifted his eyes up to Peter. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Peter’s voice is lethally calm. “Say one more goddamn word about her and you’re dead.”

“Put that gun down, Parker!”

Tony. Shit.

Peter squared his jaw, never taking his eyes off of Rumlow. About six off-duty policemen and the venue’s guards have their weapons trained on Peter.

“I said put the gun down! Now!” Tony had pushed his way through the crowd, Sam and Steve right behind him. You didn’t notice until now how quiet the room became, everyone holding in a collective breath.

“Put it down, son,” Steve gently ordered. He spied Rumlow’s men, their hands tightened on their guns, and shook his head. “Don’t even think about it.”

Peter didn’t move a muscle. His chest rapidly rises and falls with each breath.

Sam, holding a pair of cuffs in his hand, tried getting through to him. “It’s over. Drop the gun, kid.”

A slow grin spread across Rumlow’s face.

“Peter,” you spoke softly.

His red-rimmed eyes met yours.

“Everything’s gonna be alright. Just put the gun down, okay? Please.”

Two heartbeats passed before his grip on the gun slackened, and he begrudgingly lowered his arm.

Steve and Sam seized on the opportunity. Steve disarmed Peter while Sam restrained Peter’s arms behind his back and tightened the cuffs around his wrists.

Rumlow massaged his injured jaw. “Guess that means I win, Parker.”

Sam yanked Peter back before he could charge at Rumlow. When Peter looked your way, he saw you still held his cards. “I’m still in play.”

“Wait,” you protested. Sam began to guide Peter up to the entrance. “Peter, I can’t—”

He nodded his head furiously, talking over his shoulder as Sam lead him away. “Yes, you can. You know you can, baby. Play the hand.”

You stared helplessly at Peter’s retreating form. It was all on you.

Rumlow watched, unperturbed; his cards still held tight in the hand that wasn’t nursing his jaw.

Slowly, you lowered yourself down into Peter’s chair, sitting directly across from Rumlow’s smirking face. Tony stared at you incredulously. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. The room’s chatter never recovered, either. All eyes stay glued towards the standoff.

The game is in your hands. Exactly as planned.

[downondilaudid]

Harmless Flirting

Reader gets jealous when a coworker gets a little too touchy with Spencer. Reader takes it into her own hands to show him who he belongs to.

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Smut, and SLIGHT angst. Bear with me this is my first time writing Sub!Spencer

“You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.”

― Margaret Atwood

The sight of Samantha hanging all over Spencer made your stomach burn with jealousy, like the shiny new wedding band on his left hand wasn't obvious enough. Usually, you wouldn’t be so bothered by another female flirting with Spencer, he was a smart boy, and would politely decline their advances. But this time was different, he allowed her advances, and subtle touches to his bicep while delivering coffee. Samantha was a newly hired intern, she wasn’t exactly fit for the job, but her father was chief of the department, and that speaks for itself. 

You would be lying if you said Samantha wasn’t pretty, in fact, she was almost gorgeous. It wasn’t her beauty that intimidated you, it was the fact that Spencer allowed her flirting, whether he didn’t notice, or was trying to be professional. It was absolutely infuriating.

Your eyes followed Samantha as she held a paper cup full of warm coffee, prancing her way into the room where the BAU had set up. You worked for the SVU, a career choice Spencer had pushed you to try. He thought your compassion and motivation to help others would be perfect for the job, and as always, he was right. You loved your job, it allowed you to make a difference in the world, even if it was one family at a time. Rarely did your job overlap with Spencer’s, but, when it did, the both you swore to keep things professional. 

Granted, it was hard to be professional watching Samantha lean over the table, practically suffocating Spencer with her breasts. You scoffed, crossing your arms and shifting your weight uncomfortably. You weren’t going to say anything, there were more important things to worry about, like the string of missing little girls, who turned up a day or so later, their bodies mangled and burned. 

Samantha set the coffee down on the table, you assumed she had gotten it for Spencer. On the bright side, he was definitely uncomfortable, he pressed his back far into the chair, putting as much space as possible between him and Samantha. Spencer continued to work, his eyes vigorously scanning a hot pink diary of one of the victims. 

Despite how visibly unavailable he was, Samantha continued to lean over the table, trying her hardest to gain Spencer’s attention. Spencer finally responded, saying something you couldn’t understand from your distance. Samantha giggled, smacking her hand against the table in a fit of laughter. Spencer yelped as the coffee Samantha had brought him tipped over into his lap. Samantha’s eyes went wide, rushing around the room to grab some tissues, then running back and very inappropriately patting his lap.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking, this is totally my fault.” She said, hands still pressing against his thighs. 

Spencer attempted to stand up, only to be pushed back down by Samantha, “Y-you don’t need to do that, it’s f-fine, s-seriously.” He croaked, his hands feebly trying to push Samantha away. 

If you weren’t pissed five minutes ago, you were totally pissed now. You stomped into the room, your heels clicking against the floor. Your hand wrapped around Samantha’s arm tugging her off of Spencer, “you’ve done enough, Samantha, don’t make it worse.” You spat, releasing her arm and narrowing your eyes at her. 

Spencer stood, his hands wiping his slacks, “it’s fine, Y/N, really.” 

“No it’s not! I totally spilled hot coffee all over you like an idiot!” Samantha cried, attempting to move forward to help dry Spencer off again.

“Samantha, you’re not even supposed to be working today. What the hell are you doing?” You snapped. Usually you were never this rude to Samantha, she was a sweet girl, but right now, she was testing you. She was practically giving Spencer a handjob when he was obviously uncomfortable and married!

Her head turned to you, eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. “Um, well, I-I thought you guys could use some help.” 

You sighed, trying to hold back your obvious anger, “We’ll call you if we need you, for now just go home, okay?” You softened your voice, trying to sympathize with the embarrassed girl. 

She nodded her head, rushing out of the room to grab her things. 

“It was just coffee, Y/N, it’s not that big of a deal.” Spencer defended, taking the tissues Samantha was using and attempting to pat himself dry. 

You scoffed, an incredulous look dawning your face, “you’re fucking kidding right?”

Spencer huffed, tossing the dirty tissues onto the table, “we're on a case Y/N, be professional.”

“Professional, you’re telling me to be professional? That bitch had her hands all over your dick!” You yelled, quickly covering your mouth. He was right, this argument could wait, those little girls were depending on you. 

The case ended that night, even with your head clouded by anger, you were able to figure it out. 

You and Spencer had driven separate cars, and fortunately, you arrived home first. Immediately, you set your plan into action, stripping your clothes off and taking a quick shower. As soon as you dried off, you began blow-drying your hair. 

Spencer needed to be put in his place, he needed a reminder of who he belonged to, and you knew exactly how to do that. You searched through your bottom drawer where you kept your lingerie, yes, you had your own drawer for that. Honestly, might as well have a separate closet for it, Spencer loved it when you wore lingerie. 

This is why you stood in front of your wooden full-length mirror, glancing over your appearance, adorned in a black lace falbala. Accented by multiple golden rings on your fingers, one of which included your wedding ring. 

Right as you finished admiring yourself, the faint sound of a door closing rang through the house. A sly smile curled your lips as you exited your bedroom, quietly making your way down the hall. 

You rounded the corner, met with the sight of a pant less Spencer, his dress shirt unbuttoned. He probably shed his coffee-stained pants the minute he walked through the door since there was no time to change during the case, he was forced to wear them for the rest of the day. He hadn’t noticed you yet, busying himself by popping a k-cup into the Keurig. 

“You’re home” you commented, making your presence in the room known. 

His head snapped up, his eyes widening at your appearance, “woah, y-you look good.” 

You let out a velvety laugh, walking around the kitchen bar and to where he was standing. “You really pissed me off today.” Spencer groaned turning to you with an annoyed look, “Y/N, you’re overreacting, it was just harmless flirting.” 

Rage bubbled through your veins, that bitch was all over him. She literally patted his dick, his dick! Did he not see anything wrong with that? “It was not harmless flirting, Spencer, she was practically hopping on your dick!”

“She was not… a-actually it’s relatively impossible for a woman to be able to literally jump onto a man’s p-woah” He was cut off from his unnecessary explanation by your hand on his chest, pushing him back, pinning his body between your own and the cool granite counter. 

Warmth spread to your core as his teeth dug down into his bottom lip. “You’re very mouthy tonight, baby” you mumbled as you laid soft kisses to his neck. 

Spencer let out a slight whimper as you nipped lightly at his collarbone. Your hands ran up his chest, pushing the sleeves of his dress shirt down his arms and to the floor. You pulled away, your eyes bearing into his, lips parting with a low moan as you ran your thumb over his bottom lip. “You have such pretty lips” your thoughts wandered as you stared at him, a light chuckle rumbling in your chest as you spoke, “you really are a pretty boy.” 

Your thumb pushed past Spencer’s lips, his eyes widening at the intrusion, but his mouth eagerly sucking on it, allowing his tongue to swirl around it. “Hmm… your lips would look a lot better wrapped around something else. Get on your knees.” Your voice was strong and as smooth as silk. 

Spencer was relatively quiet when he was in a submissive mood, as opposed to when he was dominant he was rather loud. You didn’t mind it, but sometimes, you needed to hear him, it was your reassurance that he wanted this, that he wanted you. 

He fell to his knees, his head perfectly aligned with your center. “Not much to say now, baby?” You ran the tips of your fingertips over his bare shoulder, watching as goosebumps appeared on his skin. You ran them up the side of his neck, sneaking around to the back of his head to tug sharply at his roots.

He yelped, his hands shooting up to rest against your thighs to steady himself. “Use your words, pretty boy.” 

“Yes” he groaned as you tightened your grip in his hair, and his brows furrowed slightly. You hummed in approval, releasing your hold on his hair, causing his head to fall forward, and his chest to heave with an unreleased breath. You presented your left hand to his face, your perfectly manicured nails shimmering in the faint kitchen light. “I think you know what to do, sweetheart.” 

Spencer moved his head forward placing a light kiss to your wedding ring, then moving to pull back. Immediately your hand met the back of his head, immobilizing him. “Ah, ah, you’re not done yet.” You taunted, a smirk on your face. There was nothing better than seeing your man on his knees in front of you. 

His lips found your ring once more, this time, wrapping around the sizeable diamond that perched on top of the band. You watched as his cheeks hollowed, lightly sucking on the jewel. “Good boy,” you praised, pushing some of his chocolate curls out of his face.

“That’s enough” you stated, pulling your hand away from his face. “I want your mouth somewhere else.” You pulled up the frilled fabric of the lingerie with one hand, using the other to slide the little black panties down your legs. 

Spencer’s tongue darted out, running over his bottom lip, “please” his voice was soft and low as he begged. 

You chuckled before lifting one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, your hand braced against the counter to steady yourself. “Go ahead, baby.”

Immediately Spencer brought his head forward, his tongue flicking out to kitten lick at your clit. A light groan left your mouth, “fuck, there you go.” Your encouragement seemed to inspire Spencer as his delicate licks switched to sweet suckling as he wrapped his lips around you. Your eyes fluttered shut, it was so easy for you to get lost in the pleasure. It was no secret Spencer had amazing lips, but they were even better working hard against your cunt. 

“Shit” you cried out, Spencer’s tongue swirled around, his darkened eyes staring up at you. Your hips rocked lightly into his face, your body craving the sweet bliss of an orgasm. The tension in your stomach began to build, Spencer sensed this, his cheeks hollowing more as he sucked harder, the tip of his tongue running over your clit. 

Every muscle in your body seemed to tense as your orgasm overtook you, a loud moan of Spencer’s name leaving your mouth. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and your chest heaved for air. Nothing on earth could compare to the feeling of coming undone on Spencer’s tongue, you almost liked it more than his cock, almost. 

Spencer pulled back as your eyes fluttered open, greeted with the sight of him on his knees, his chin slick with your arousal. “God, you’re so good with your mouth” you stated, causing the both of you to let out a laugh. 

“M’kay lay down,” you said, motioning to the cold kitchen tile. 

His eyes rounded and a red flush covered his face, “what? O-on the kitchen floor?” He stumbled over his words, clearly surprised at your demand. 

Your soft demeanor vanished at his question, your voice hardening with authority, “did I stutter?” 

He shook his head, quickly moving from his position on his knees to laying flat on his back, hissing as the cool tile sent goosebumps down his body. “Such an obedient boy” you grinned, falling to your knees as gracefully as you could. 

“Let’s get these off” your hands wrapped around the hem of his underwear, nails scratching lightly against his skin as you pulled them down. His cock sprung free, the head slick with precum. 

He let out a strangled moan as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your thumb running lightly over the head. “Y/N” he groaned, squirming lightly in your touch. 

But you didn’t want to give him what he wanted just yet, you wanted to hear him beg for you. “How bad do you want it, Spence? How bad do you want me to fuck you?”

“Please, please, Y/N?” He begged, his brows furrowing as he whined when your warm hand left his cock. 

“Who do you belong to, baby?” You asked, moving to straddle his waist. 

A gasp left his mouth, and you almost gave in at the mere sight of him. His body covered in a layer of sweat, hair tousled, and his lips red and swollen. Instead you began lightly grinding into him, your arms outstretched, braced on either side of his head. 

His hips bucked greedily to meet yours, before muttering out “yours, I’m yours Y/N!” 

Your response came in the form of a sudden jerk as you allowed yourself to sink down onto his cock, the both of you groaning in the process. Your hips set a frantic pace, knowing neither of you would last long. “That’s right” you moaned, leaning forward slightly to work your hips faster. “You’re mine, mine only.” 

Spencer’s head lifted from the tile, his neck straining to watch his cock disappear into your cunt. Your hand met his neck, pushing his head lightly back onto the tile. You leaned in closer, your hot breath fanning over his face, “you want me to kiss you?”

He moaned, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. At that moment you wished you could take a picture so you could freeze the image in time. Spencer was so fucking beautiful, especially when he was a moaning mess under you. “Y-yes” he stuttered, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

You granted him his wish, your lips finally meeting. He was close, you could feel it, as were you. You couldn’t wait to see him unravel under you. The two of you swallowed each other's moans, both of you chasing your orgasms like animals. You pulled back to speak before capturing his lips again, “cum, cum for me. Samantha couldn’t make you feel this good, could she?”

It was the last words you were able to force out before you were thrown headfirst into your orgasm, trembling on top of Spencer. The feeling of your walls tightening and releasing around him sent Spencer into his own orgasm, groaning into your mouth. 

Spencer had a point, it was harmless flirting, only because you knew Spencer only had eyes for you. But you would never pass up an opportunity to ride Spencer like there was no tomorrow. 

You pulled off Spencer, and instead of crawling off of his waist you laid down, resting your head against his chest. His heart was still pounding rapidly, and yours was too, both of you still recovering. 

“Sorry” you giggled, the realization hitting you that you had just ridden Spencer on the gross kitchen floor. 

He laughed, the vibrations rumbling through his chest, “yeah, maybe next time we should try and make it to the bed.” His hands ran up and down your back, lazily playing with the lace of your lingerie, “I’m sorry about Samantha, I-I should’ve said something to her.” 

You nuzzled your face in his neck, enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours. “It’s not your fault she’s stupid.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous about, baby. I only love you.” He laughed.

A lovesick smile made its way to your face as you spoke, “and I you. But you can’t deny, you love it when I’m jealous!”

Spencer pushed off his arms, into a sitting position, taking you with him. “Only because I love it when you get all egotistical and dominant.”

You scoffed playfully, pulling your head back to glare at him. “Excuse me, sir? Egotistical?”

“Okay, we’ll use the word confident instead.” Spencer corrected his lovesick smile reflecting your own.

“You want to take a shower then crash on the couch and watch Doctor Who? I’ve been aching to watch the god complex again.” You offered, stretching out your muscles before either of you moved. 

Spencer chuckled, tilting his head up to peck your lips, “sounds perfect.” 

[harrysweasleys]

save a life // d.m

Summary: You know what I always thought would be so cute if the reader is a Weasley and dating Draco in secret and he gives her an amulet and if the person wearing it gets hurt instead of dying it turns into a sleeping spell and during the Battle of Hogwarts she saves Fred and ends up on the floor instead and Draco rushes over and just loses it and then he sees that you're still wearing necklace and kisses you and it's angsty but with a happy ending sorry I'm a sucker things like these

Warnings: violence, language, blood

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: so i changed up the request a tad, sorry about that, but nonetheless it’s pretty much what the request wanted! my requests are still open but i’ve got a long list to get through so sorry for the wait. xxx (gif not mine)

-

“Draco, I can’t accept this, it’s far too expensive,” Y/N’s mouth was agape as she stared down at the necklace in the little black velvet box. The charm on the end, which Y/N immediately recognized as a Protective Amulet — which they had studied in DADA — was glistening brightly, showing off its worth.

“No, it wasn’t,” Draco replied, placing his hand on hers before gently kissing her knuckles, “Besides, this can save your life, therefore it’s priceless.”

She looked up at him, still stunned speechless. She knew that Protective Amulets were rare, nearly impossible to find as they were in such high demand at this time of crisis, and she had never in a million years expected to receive one.

“What about you? You need to be protected too,” Y/N raised an eyebrow, closing up the box and placing it in her pocket, keeping it safe and away from the prying eyes of passing students. Her and Draco, although public with their relationship, tried their best to keep it as private as possible. She hated the attention they always got for being together.

“Don’t worry about me,” he brushed her off, “You know I’m in a very different position than you are.” He tapped his left forearm as a reminder that he was, in fact, fighting a very different battle than she was. When he showed Y/N the Dark Mark for the first time, they had spent the entire night crying, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

She knew it was coming. Hell, anyone who knew about Draco’s situation knew it was coming. But it didn’t change the shock and heartbreak that Y/N felt looking down at the dark ink permanently etched into the pale skin of her boyfriend. She hated looking at it. It was a reminder that Draco had no control over his life, that his entire legacy was built for him, that this was the reason he didn’t sleep nights. He was just as terrified as she was.

“You’re still dealing with You Know Who,” she pressed on, tossing a strand of her ginger hair out of her face, “If anything, you’d need even more protection. You know I always worry about you, I hate not knowing if you’re okay.”

“Love, it’s okay,” he smiled softly, sadly even, placing a hand on her shoulder and gazing into her brown eyes, “Don’t you worry about me. I can handle my end of the fight.”

Y/N squinted her eyes at him, ready to keep pressing the subject, but decided against it, “Fine. Thank you, though. It’s beautiful.” It truly was beautiful. The red gem in the centre caught her attention right away, the way that it almost seemed to glow under the bright lights.

“I’m glad you like it,” Draco said softly, placing a light kiss on her forehead and interlacing his hand with hers, “Now, should we get a move on to dinner so we can make it in time for pudding?”

Y/N grinned, placing a light kiss to his lips — which he gladly reciprocated — before the two of them made their way into the Great Hall. Draco waved ‘bye’ before making his way over to the Slytherin table, and Y/N made her way over to the Gryffindor one, sitting between her siblings.

“What’d he give you?” Ginny asked, peering over to her sister with a pressing look on her face. She had clearly watched the encounter between the two of them outside the Great Hall, making Y/N’s cheeks flush a light pink.

“A necklace,” Y/N grinned shyly, helping herself to come potatoes, “Protective Amulet, actually.”

“A what?” Ron’s mouth was agape, “Where the bloody hell did he manage to find one of those?”

Y/N shrugged, placing her fork down and taking the little box out of her pocket, making sure no one else was looking, and opened it up. Ginny and Ron looked awestruck, while Fred and George seemed to be too busy paying attention to their food to notice the commotion. Y/N placed the necklace proudly around her neck, letting the Amulet dangle between her collarbones.

“Damn,” Ginny nodded approvingly, “That little squirt has some good taste.”

Y/N giggled, admiring the way the candle light reflected off of the gems. She wasn’t one for fancy jewellery, having even told Draco not to buy her any once they started dating, but this felt like more than a show-off gesture. Him giving her something that would save her life felt like the biggest gesture he could possibly give her, one that really showed how much he cared.

When they started dating about a year ago, it was as if a fire had spread throughout both of their lives. Y/N’s family — her father in particular — were in no means ‘fans’ of the Malfoy family. In fact, although Arthur Weasley denies it, his dislike towards Lucius Malfoy grows exponentially by the day. And Draco’s family on the other hand loved to call Y/N and her family ‘blood traitors’ and ‘disgraces’ as well as making sure the fact that they were poor was very much a topic of conversation.

Both their parents were still iffy about the entire concept of their kids being together, but Y/N’s siblings had learned to accept it, much to her gratitude. Ron took longer than the rest, having dealt with Draco’s bullying first hand for five years now, but he eventually came around as long as they didn’t ‘flaunt their love’ in front of him on a daily basis.

“I reckon he didn’t get one for the rest of us, then?” Ron asked, glaring at Draco on the opposite end of the Great Hall while picking at the chicken legs on his plate.

“If you were his girlfriend I’m sure he would, Ronald,” Ginny replied, chuckling at her brother’s reaction. Y/N laughed as well, her hand still playing with the jewel around her neck as the dinner plates vanished, filling the table with multiple assortments of puddings.

“Always the best part,” Ron shoved his fork in, filling his plate to the brim.

Y/N looked over to the Slytherin table, catching Draco’s eye, and smiled widely at him, pointing to the necklace she was now wearing. He smirked at her, winking and shooting a thumbs up, going unnoticed by everyone else, but causing her entire body to flutter.

— —

“What do you think life will be like after the war?” Y/N was twirling a strand of Draco’s hair, overlooking the grounds of Hogwarts as the two of them sat comfortably in the fresh air of the Astronomy tower. They had used this location for most of their private moments, using it to talk about anything and everything. And of course, it was a good makeout spot.

“Peaceful, I hope,” he replied, gazing up at her quickly before turning back to watch the setting sun. Their sixth year hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. Voldemort had returned, Dumbledore was missing constantly, and with Snape as the new Defence professor, Y/N Weasley was worried their education wasn’t preparing them well enough for their eventual battle.

“Do you think we’ll win?” she asked, pulling her hand away from his hair and turning to face him with a more serious expression, “By ‘we’ I mean anti-Voldemort people. You know, the good guys.”

Draco, although his parents were forcing him to join the ‘dark side’, was still secretly fighting alongside Y/N. She had helped him overcome the urges that came with his newfound Dark Mark, and promised him she’d stick by his side no matter what. He was prepared to leave the Dark Lord’s orders if it meant keeping her safe.

“I do,” he said softly, sitting up, “I think that once the war happens, we’ll be prepared enough to take him down.”

Y/N smiled softly, brushing her hair out of her face, “Dad says he thinks it’ll happen soon. Everyone at the Ministry is in a frenzy. And Fred and George are basically the only open shop in Diagon Alley, no one wants to go out anymore. The entire Wizarding world is in a panic.”

Draco sighed, gently placing a hand on her cheek, his other hand twirling the Amulet necklace she was wearing, “Love, I can’t promise everything will end up being the way it was before, but no matter what happens, I am not leaving your side. And as long as you wear that—,” he pointed to her Amulet, “—you’ll be by mine as well. And that’s all I want. You.”

“I love you,” she grinned, pulling him in for a tender kiss, “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

“Of course, my love.”

— —

The war had come.

As another wall came crumbling down mere meters from her, Y/N dodged out of the way, her wand still gripped tightly in her hand.

She had been preparing for this for two years now, ever since Harry had emerged from the Triwizard Maze with Cedric’s lifeless body. They had prepared for this when Dumbledore’s Army came to life, all of them training constantly to fight back against the dark forces that were bound to come.

But, as Y/N gazed around the crumbling Hogwarts, watching some of her friends die before her very eyes, she realized that nothing could have really prepared her for this.

“Petrificus Totalus!” she shouted, the Death Eater that was standing in front of her now tumbling down the staircase as stiff as a board. She watched him fall for a long while before deciding to take off down another hallway, gliding against the wall to avoid being seen. She had intelligently decide to wear all black clothing to believe she’d be well hidden, but completely ignored the fact that her bright red hair gave her away instantly. It wasn’t her best moment.

“Y/N!” Hermione and Harry came barreling around the corner, frightening her nearly half to death, followed by Ron, Percy and Fred shortly after.

“Oh, thank Merlin, it’s you guys,” she hugged her brothers quickly, noticing the deep cut on Ron’s cheek and the blood coming from Percy’s hairline. She herself had a few deep scrapes and bruises as well, the blood smeared across her face and hands. Some of it hers, some of it not.

“Why are you all alone?” Harry asked, eyes darting around the corridor with full alertness, “We should all have backup.”

“I lost Ginny after a chandelier came crashing down,” Y/N said, her voice shaky with adrenaline, “We took off in opposite directions.”

“Is she okay?” Harry’s eyes were wide, the panic evident in the way his head snapped violently towards her.

Y/N grinned softly, clutching her wand tightly, “She’s safe, Harry.” He let out a sigh of relief, nodding his head slightly.

“Snape’s dead,” his voice was quieter, almost regretful.

Y/N felt her heart drop. She was never fond of Snape — he hated her and her family to his very core — but he was still someone she had looked up to, “Oh, that’s awful. An awful way to go, in the middle of a war.”

“Where’s Malfoy?” Ron asked, looking out the window that was facing the grounds, green and red flashes blasting in countless different directions.

“I—I don’t know,” Y/N admitted. She had seen him not ten minutes ago, he had arrived with his parents looking very sunken and gloomy, but they hadn’t had a chance to speak two words to each other since the battle had begun. She was worried for his safety, but she figured no one was really after him. Students didn’t know he was a Death Eater and Narcissa would protect her son until her dying breath.

Her heart sunk thinking about him. Since the end of their sixth year, things had been weird. She didn’t blame him, he had insane pressure being thrust upon his shoulders. His parents wouldn’t let him leave their side and Y/N’s parents would let her leave the house or even send Owls. She had pretty much lost all contact with him.

After the summer holidays and after Y/N attended her older brother Bill’s wedding, she had not spoken a single word to him.

Were they even together anymore?

“He’s here, though,” she spoke up once realizing she had been silent for a while, “I saw him.”

Hermione nodded understandingly, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. Hermione, who had been falling for Ron since third year, was the only person Y/N really confided in about her relationship. She didn’t even tell Ginny much. The only reason she confided in Hermione was because she knew about her feelings towards Ron. They often had late night chats about boys and their futures — those chats were some of the best moments in Y/N’s time at Hogwarts, really.

“Look out!” Ron shouted, but it was too late. Y/N was sent flying backwards, crashing into a stone pillar, violently hitting her skull and spine. She could feel the blood oozing out of the back of her head, her eyesight becoming insanely fuzzy, but she opened her eyes in time to see Fred hex the Death Eater, who went flying out a broken window.

Y/N’s eyes started to droop again, and that’s when she noticed the Amulet sitting on the ground in a tiny pile of rubble. It was no longer on her. Panicking slightly, she cleared her throat, blinking rapidly to regain her proper vision.

“Fred—,” she croaked out to the closest person, lifting her hand to point down at it, “Can you get it for me? The Amulet?”

Fred picked it up, rushing over to help his little sister stand up. After she was on her feet, still reasonably dizzy and lightheaded, a bright green flash had flown by, blinding them all for a good moment.

“Avada Kedavra!” Y/N ducked down, her heart skipping a beat. Someone was going to die. 

Fred’s hand — that had been linked with her own — was now gone. The spell had hit him right in the middle of his chest and he was sent flying back, his body lying limp on the floor in a heap of broken stone.

Y/N thought she was going to vomit. She rushed over, letting Percy and Harry deal with the Death Eater, and picked up Fred’s head, resting it in her lap. His hair was standing on end as if he had been electrocuted, and his skin felt hot to the touch, but it didn’t stop her from attempting to shake him awake.

“Freddie?” she asked, her voice still trembling but this time due to the fact that she was holding back tears, “Freddie, please wake up.”

Ron was slumped against a wall, his eyes red and his breathing irregular as he watched Y/N try to wake up their brother. Hermione was comforting him, leaning her head against his shoulder, also trying to keep her emotions in.

Y/N couldn’t take her eyes away from her dead brother, whose eyes were still open wide, a faint smile on his lips that had been there before he got his with the blinding green flash.

“Fred, please wake up,” Y/N cried softly, ignoring Percy leaning down next to her and holding Fred’s limp hand in his own. She shut her eyes, letting the tears flow freely. The feeling of loss was horrendous. She was never going to hear Fred talk, or hear another one of his stupid jokes—

“Reckon I better thank the Slytherin git.”

Y/N’s eyes shot open, looking down at Fred, whose face was now in a painful grimace. His eyes were still closed but he was breathing. His eyelids flickered open and he coughed violently, dust and bits of stone coming out of his mouth.

“Fred?” Y/N dropped his head, placing her hands over his chest to check for a heartbeat to make sure she wasn’t imagining things, and thankfully, there was one, “Fred, you’re alive...”

“Do I have Harry’s scar?” he asked, eyes opening slightly and his infamous grin making its way back onto his face as if he hadn’t just died, “On my forehead, do I have one now too?”

Y/N, too shocked to do anything, glanced up at his forehead, “No.”

“Damn,” Fred muttered, still coughing, “That’s rather unfortunate.” Y/N couldn’t believe he was still alive. But as she looked down to his hand, which was now open, she could see the bright glow of the Protective Amulet glistening brightly. Fred had it. 

“It saved him,” Ron muttered, his eyes wide as he leaned off of the wall, walking over to see his siblings, “Y/N, you had him pick it up for you and it saved him.”

Y/N was still speechless. Her own heart had regained its beat, but her head was still spinning, and the feeling of wanting to vomit was probably even stronger now than when she thought he was dead.

Fred carefully made his way to stand up assisted by Ron and Percy, while Y/N still crouched on the floor next to where he had been laying, her eyes glued to the floor in shock.

“You good, little sis?” Fred asked, sticking his hand out to help her up, “I’m the one who nearly died but you’re the one who seems to be on the verge of passing out.”

“I need to go see Malfoy,” she stood up hastily, rubbing the dirt from her hands onto her pants before pulling her brother into a bone-crushing hug, “Believe me, I’m thankful you’re alive. You have no idea. But I need to go see him.”

“What a roller coaster,” Ron ran his hand down his face, shaking his head before pulling Fred in for a hug as well, “George will have a laugh.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll find his twin brother almost dying hilarious,” Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms, “Y/N, why do you need to go see Malfoy? Isn’t he, you know, not on our side?”

Y/N shook her head vigorously, eyes wide, “He’s always been on our side. He had a weird way of showing it, but he’s never been evil,” she leaned over to pick up her wand off the floor and proceeded to place it in her inside coat pocket, “He’s been forced by his parents to become dangerous. I need to go help him.”

“But why now?” Percy asked, eyeing his little sister with what could only be seen as suspicion. Percy had been the only vocal sibling about his dislike towards Malfoy. Working alongside the Ministry for so many years now, he had heard horrible tales of Lucius Malfoy and tried to keep his youngest sister away from that family the best he could. Unsuccessfully, of course.

“Because he saved Fred, Perc,” she replied, her voice firm, “Well, indirectly, but still. He helped me. I need to go help him.”

The rest of the gang was silent, no one wanting to argue with Y/N — the fire in her eyes was burning bright and there was no way they would attempt to put it out. She was determined, and no one stops a Weasley.

“Do you want backup?” Harry asked cautiously, “Just incase his parents are around, that is.”

“No,” she shook her head once more, “I need to go alone.”

And without another word, she bolted down the nearby staircase, careful not to step on bodies and trying her best to avoid tripping on large chunks of rubble. The school that she had been practically living in for seven years looked unrecognizable. Walls were blown away, blood was smeared on the floors, unfamiliar bodies littered the corridors, and the constant flash of spells reminded her of a violent thunderstorm.

She continued rushing downstairs, luckily avoiding any encounters, and barged into the Great Hall, where she did indeed find Draco. His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lip was quivering. He was naturally very pale, but he looked even more ghostly under the faint light and the fact that he was surrounded by at least a dozen Death Eaters.

Her heart caught in her throat as she noticed all the eyes in the room now locked on her, Draco’s as well.

“Well, well,” Bellatrix Lestrange’s cackling voice reached her ears and she could feel her fingers begin to shake as they gripped her wand even tighter, “It’s another Weasley, is it not?”

Y/N locked eyes with Draco, who seemed even more panicked now that she was in the room. He nudged his head towards the door, silently telling her to leave, but she shook her head and stood her ground.

“Bella, don’t intimidate our guest,” Lucius Malfoy’s voice reached her ears and she grimaced. He had never liked her, and she doubted he would play saint right now.

“My name’s Y/N,” she said weakly, ignoring the laughs of the Death Eaters who were thrilled by her discomfort. She only recognized a few of them, having heard from Draco who they were, but some were unfamiliar, and the uncertainty of the situation she was in was starting to settle in her chest.

Lucius chucked, running a hand through his greasy blond hair, “Yes, yes, I am familiar with you. Draco, this is your little... girlfriend... is it not?”

Draco’s eyes were wide and he shook his head, tossing his hair back and forth aggressively, “No. We broke up.”

If Y/N wasn’t already devastated, she was now. Was he being honest, or was it just to get Lucius to leave her alone? The coldness in his eyes told her that it was true, but the way he was silently pleading her to leave the room also made her believe he was just trying to keep her safe.

“Ah,” Lucius nodded his head, holding his wand and twirling it through his fingers, “Then why are you here? You’re hardly Death Eater material.”

Y/N froze on the spot, having no idea what to say. Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open, and her entire body trembling in both fear and adrenaline.

“Isn’t it clear?” Narcissa Malfoy emerged from behind her husband, her face fierce but her eyes showing the same uneasiness as her son, “It doesn’t matter why she’s here. It matters what we do with her.”

Lucius’ smirk widened as he faced his son, “Ah, yes. Draco, would you do the honours?”

Y/N took a step backwards, wishing she could leave but knowing there was no chance of that now. Draco’s face fell and his lip opened to speak, until he was cut off by his mother once more.

“I highly doubt we should do this here. I’ll escort Draco and Miss Weasley out, we will do this privately,” Narcissa demanded, glaring at her husband, “This is a war, but have some respect for your son, Lucius.”

Narcissa approached Y/N, who was still standing rooted to the floor, face pale and hands balled up into fists so tightly that all colour had left her hands. She knew Narcissa was more fond of her than Lucius, but she didn’t think that she would be the one to force Draco to kill her.

“Come with me,” Narcissa whispered in Y/N’s ear, grabbing her wrist and pulling her out of the room. Y/N was being pulled around so quickly she didn’t have the chance to look at Draco, who was following in tow with tearful eyes.

“In here,” Narcissa pushed Y/N into a dark classroom, pulled Draco in behind her, and shut the door forcefully. Y/N was holding back hot tears, reaching into her jacket slowly to pull out her wand, prepared to defend herself if ever she was going to be attacked by one of the two people in the room with her.

“No need for that,” Narcissa snapped quietly, “I’m not going to make Draco kill you.”

Both Y/N and Draco’s heads snapped up to face her, their expressions nearly matched.

“I’m not a horrible person,” she scoffed, “I know you two need a moment. I will stand guard outside this door.”

With a swift movement, she was outside, the door shut behind her. Y/N and Draco were alone in the room, heavy breathing being the only sound either of them could hear. It felt strange being alone with him, they hadn’t really interacted or been together in such a long time. A lot had happened, and by the looks of it, Draco wasn’t exactly doing any better.

His hands were clenched around his wand, fingers white, and his eyes glued to the floor.

“The Amulet saved Fred,” Y/N spoke up first, wiping away the tears that had threatened to spill, “I wanted to say thank you for giving it to me.”

“You could have been killed,” Draco snapped, taking a seat on top of one of the desks, running his hands through his hair and then down his face, frustration laced into his features, “You know how dangerous this lot is.”

“Yes, I do know,” Y/N replied softly despite the bubbling frustration she was feeling, “But you helped me. I needed to come try and help you.”

He shook his head, locking his eyes with hers, “I gave that to you to save you. I don’t need you to return the favour.”

Y/N had gotten used to his insane stubbornness, but she was beginning to get irritated. They were in the middle of a war, this was hardly the time to get into an argument about a necklace.

“Draco, please, let me help you,” she placed her hands on his, and thankfully, he didn’t pull away like she expected him too. His hands were hot, the feeling of his skin touching hers making her entire body relax.

“How? How can I just leave them?” his voice was no longer accusatory, but gentle and vulnerable, “I want to, believe me, but I can’t. It’s too dangerous. And they’ll know you were involved.”

Sitting next to him on the desk, Y/N wrapped her hand around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug, not thinking twice. He relaxed against her touch, resting his head against her shoulder and letting his hands fall around her waist. It was an awkward hug, considering they were sitting down, but Y/N loved it nonetheless.

She leaned into him, running her hand through his matted hair and placing her forehead against his shoulder, “It’s going to be hard, I know, but I’ll be by your side. I just want to save you the way you saved me.”

She was extremely cautious of pressuring him too much. Draco had spent his enter life being pushed into things, ordered around. When they had started dating two years before, he was careful not to let her see too much of who he was. But when he opened up, Y/N jumped at the chance to make sure he knew she would always be there. She reminded him every second of the day that all she wanted to do was help him. Watching him become a Death Eater was the hardest thing she had ever gone through — she couldn’t imagine what it was like for him.

If she wasn’t currently giving Draco her undivided attention, she would have missed the way he nodded his head softly, mumbling a quiet ‘okay.’

“Okay, good,” she pulled away from him, flashing the best smile she could muster despite the weight on her shoulders, “Your mother is outside this door. She can help us. She can tell the others that you killed me or... performed the Cruciatus curse, no?”

“I guess she could,” Draco replied, standing off the desk and standing in front of Y/N, “She told me I could make up my own mind. And I’m doing just that.”

Y/N felt her heart swell. She hopped off the desk too, linking her hand with his. He smiled softly down at her. It didn’t reach his eyes, but she could tell he really did appreciate what she was doing for him. He had never been able to actually get help before, but now that she was standing here in front of him, he couldn’t leave her.

“Come on,” she started leading him towards the door, but as she tugged on his hand, he stayed still, “Draco, what—?”

“Are you wearing the necklace?” he asked softly, eyes scanning her neck.

“Yes,” she replied, reaching under her shirt and taking it out from where she had placed it back on while running down to the Great Hall. Despite the dark room and the tense atmosphere, the jewel still glowed brightly.

Draco looked at it, his eyes softening, and pulled Y/N to him, pressing his lips against hers like she was his life source. Their lips moulded perfectly, as if everything around them ceased to exist. The distant screams could no longer be heard, and the darkness in the room seemed comfortable.

They pulled away from each other hesitantly, both of them having new found determination in their eyes.

“I think I’m ready,” Draco presses his forehead up against hers, his hand reaching to fumble with the Amulet, rolling it between his fingers, “I love you so much. And I didn’t mean it when I said we were broken up, you know.”

“I know. And I love you just as much,” Y/N replied, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, her heart soaring, and pulled her wand out of her pocket. They laced their hands together once more, walking towards the heavy door and pulling it open, ready for what was to face them.

Narcissa, looking slightly more frazzled than before, looked between them, then down to their interlaced fingers.

“I have to go,” Draco’s face was set, all trace of vulnerability he showed in the room were now gone. Y/N squeezed his hand tighter, supporting him. He squeezed back as a silent thank you.

Narcissa nodded, “I understand. Be safe, Draco.”

Draco nodded, turning to face Y/N, and proceeded to run down the hall with her by his side. Not in the direction of the Great Hall, but towards the battle, where both of them could save the place and people they grew up with. As they reached the courtyard unscathed, Draco pulled out his wand.

“Together, yeah?” he asked, clenching his jaw and gripping the wand in his hand, his other one still linked with Y/N’s.

“Yeah, together,” Y/N replied, lifting his hand to kiss his knuckles, “Let’s go win a war.”

[silksandcravats]

Training (part 2) Kylo Ren x You

Summary: Kylo has a long and brutal punishment in store for you after your behaviour this morning. Read part 1 here for context

masterlist

WARNINGS: explicit language, smut, dom!kylo, mean!kylo, blindfolds, handcuffs, collar, anal play, slight painal, mention of caning, wax play, crying during sex, PIV sex, generally a bit rough, aftercare tho don’t worry

A/N: Accidentally deleted this b/c i’m dumb so reposting. I apologise this took me ages to write but it’s here now! and it is LONG so i really hope the wait was worth it! (ps gif is basically a visual representation of what he does to you… you da helmet b.)

You managed to keep yourself busy for much of the remainder of the day. You could have any food delivered to your quarters, but today you ate at the furthest dining hall possible, trying to kill time. But it would seem that the more you tried to occupy yourself, the more you found yourself coming up blank. In fact, you couldn’t seem to remember a single hobby of yours, instead your mind forced you to relive the events of your morning again and again.

You refused to acknowledge any form of remorse for your actions, but you couldn’t help it when the anxious knot that had grown in your stomach seemed to tighten further and further with each passing hour. It was only after you had given up your game of playing busy that you were forced to face your waterloo. 

You were sitting on one of the sleek lounge chairs, facing the glass wall that stood between you and the endless mass of glittering stars and indefinite darkness, when the doors opened. You listened to heavy steps enter the quarters, and you closed your eyes for a moment, collecting yourself, bracing for whatever was next to come.

“Come along kitten, we have much to discuss.” He called for you, opting to forgo any pleasantries. You took a deep breath, before standing, following his voice to another room in your quarters. Technically, it was your bedroom, but the room was so large it served multiple purposes, to one side sat a bed, two bedside tables, a door leading to the refresher, and another door to a large closet, on the other side of the room was a few sleek shelves and an excessively large desk a few feet from the wall, and between the two sides, a large expanse of empty floor.

“Bring me your collar.” he said, already holding something in his massive fist you couldn’t quite see. 

You nodded, remembering to add a “yes sir” after he cleared his throat, going to collect the black piece from it’s home in your bedside table. You brought it back to him, setting it down in his waiting hand, before dropping your hands awkwardly to your side, unsure what he wanted you to do with them. He noticed this, but offered you no guidance, grabbing your chin and thrusting it upwards so he could fasten your collar around your neck. He was sorely tempted to pull it too tight, to make you gasp and turn your face a pretty shade of pink, but you would need your breath for what was to come.

 Once the collar was secured he began undressing you swiftly and quietly, face void of emotion. If he was aroused by seeing you nude, he didn’t show it.

He then circled around you, stalking his prey, stopping behind you he moved to blindfold you, robbing you of your sight and encouraging you to tune into your other senses. Once it was on tightly you heard him take a few steps back from you. You stood there a few moments before you heard him speak.

“Kneel.” The addition of the blindfold made the simple task more complicated, as your sense of balance was altered. You did your best not to tip over as you fell to your knees quickly, you knew he was expecting blind obedience, and if you failed to comply immediately he would roughly push you to the ground himself. 

“I must confess pet, I was under the false impression that we were making progress in your training.” He mused circling to your front again. “But your infraction today has made it apparent I have been entirely too forgiving with you. That will have to change.” He paused and could him shuffling next to you and then you felt his hot breath fanning against your ear. “You look so pretty and vulnerable like this baby.”

“Thank you sir.” you purred, grateful for the compliment. 

“It’s too bad I have to punish you for being such an insufferable brat.” he sneered, grabbing your ear tightly, and standing. You winced in pain and followed him up as quickly as possible trying to ease the pressure, but he didn’t let up. He walked to the other side of the room with you staggering blindly just behind him. Using only the grip on your ear, he practically flung you forward so you fell against his desk bent over. Your hands coming to catch yourself a bit too late.

He pulled your arms back meeting them just over the swell of your ass and you felt the unmistakable sensation of standard first order cuffs locking around your wrists. You nearly rolled your eyes, wondering what he had in store for you that he felt the need to restrain you. You were left to wait for a while before you felt contact again. His hand reached your ass grabbing one cheek and crudely pushing it to the side, and then you felt his now slick finger prodding against your back door. You squeaked and tried to move forward but there was nowhere to go.

Self defence wasn’t the only training Kylo was guiding you through. He was obsessed with the idea of claiming you- all of you. And that included every hole. The past few weeks he had begun working you towards taking him up your ass, and while you found the idea of it totally arousing, the painstaking slow path towards it was a pain in the ass, literally. You hated the way it felt so cold going in, the stretch was painful, and at the end of it all it felt like there was no real relief as a plug would usually sit ideally in you, taking up space but not providing you the stimulation you craved. 

Tonight Kylo had decided to use this distaste for anal training against you. You groaned at the feeling as his finger pressed firmly inside your unwilling hole, sliding right in, two knuckles deep working into you. 

“I’ve got a new plug for you tonight little one,” he informed you, pressing his finger all the way in so it sat deep inside you.

“Is- is it bigger?” You asked nervously, trying your luck as you weren’t sure if you were even allowed to talk right now.

“Indeed kitten,” he answered, it seems your question was allowed for now. He continued pushing in a second finger. “I’ve skipped a few sizes, this one’s bigger than you’ve ever taken. And it’s going all the way up your ass.” you shivered at the thought. 

He didn’t prepare you much more before you felt his fingers withdrawal and the tip of a cold steel plug pressing against you. You couldn’t help the grunt of discomfort that fell from your lips as you instinctively clenched tightly, denying him access.

“Don’t fight me.” he commanded calmly, pressing harder against you. You squeezed your eyes tightly under the blindfold, your entire face scrunching with discomfort.

“Don’t want it.” you complained. Suddenly the pressure stopped momentarily.

“Fine,” he relented, tone still eerily calm. “Then you can help me put it in. Hold yourself open.” Your eyes flew open.

“I-I can’t.” You tried, holding your cuffed wrists up slightly as an excuse.

“I won’t repeat myself kitten,” he warned. Not wanting to provoke him further, you elected to oblige. With a pink face and shame filling your guts, you pushed your hands back, grabbing your own ass you pulled yourself open, fully presenting your little hole to him. The position was entirely humiliating, but that was what he was going for.

“The little slut can listen,” he mused, once again lining the steel invader with your entrance. When he pressed again you were unable to resist the way you had earlier, and much to your disappointment you felt yourself beginning to stretch painfully in an attempt to accommodate the foreign object. You could already tell this one was a good deal wider and longer than any of the preceding plugs, and you felt all too sorry for yourself as you thought about how your only option was to lie there and take it. 

“You are going to learn that I have final say of anything and everything that happens to this little hole, and every other inch of your body.” he lectured, pushing deeper and deeper. “This body belongs to me, you are mine, and whatever happens to you is entirely up to me. I will see to it that you learn to listen to me better than you listen to your own body. I know what is best for my pet, and you will listen to me.”

You let out a small whine as the widest part slipped inside of you, but otherwise the plug was fully seated without much further protest from you. Finding yourself too overcome with shame to fight your situation anymore. Once it was all the way, he took a moment to admire the shiny and excessive jewel at the end of the plug before batting your hands away. You worked to even your breathing as he stepped away from you, you could hear his footsteps echo as he walked across the room.

“Open” he came around to your front, placing something hard and wooden, a cane, between your teeth, you bite down, realising he wanted you to hold the implement. “We are going to try something new today, it is intended to be a punishment, although I suspect being the little whore that you are you will find some way to enjoy it. This is practice for you. It will be quite intense but you will not move an inch because I told you not to. Since it’s so hard for you to  follow instructions, you’re going to hold this in your mouth the whole time. If you so much as step a toe out of line, I will cane you until I draw blood, understood?”

You nodded quickly in response to his threat, knowing full well he was not bluffing. 

“Good” he muttered, patting your face and moving behind you again. He allowed you to wait in wonder as he worked behind you. Anticipation swirled in your belly as you wondered what new trick he had in store to make you squirm. 

Suddenly your curiosity was answered as you felt something scalding hot drip onto the top left of your exposed back. You gasped, but fought against your instincts, remaining entirely still. The burn was intense but short lived, You felt white hot pain for the briefest moment, before the substance cooled and hardened against your skin. You quickly realised he was dripping hot wax along your back. 

“How does that feel?” he asked curiously, running a line down a portion of your spine, moving lower down your back towards a region he knew would be even more sensitive.

“Hurts.” you slobbered slightly against the cane holding your mouth slightly agape, fighting your body’s instinct to wiggle away from the sensation. You yelped aloud as you feel a small puddle of wax pool in one of the dimples of your back. Oh how you wanted to arch your back in response. You found that when the wax made contact with the lower portion of your back the sting only halfway subsided when it hardened, a soreness remaining. 

Kylo felt himself hardening at the sight of you. You were purring out pathetic little whines every time he splattered more red wax against your poor flesh. You looked stunning like this, clearly so desperate to move but forcing yourself to be still, to be good for him. Ever the sadist, he continued his work until your skin was practically covered, and your little whines had begun to shift into little moans. Though he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he was rather proud of your resilience, and decided to reward you by trailing his hand down to your dripping, neglected center.

“Just as I expected. Soaked.” he hummed, spreading your labia to expose your clit and opening to the cool air. “It would seem the little painslut enjoyed herself,” he ran his finger just along your opening, but didn’t give you the pleasure of entering you. “I supposed we better take care of this greedy little cunt.” he withdrew his prodding fingers, moving his hands to your wrist. He released you from the cuffs only to grasp your wrists in one of his big hands. With his other hand he grabbed the top of your right arm tightly, pulled you up so your entire naked backside was flush against his clothed front. 

Once you were standing he kept his grip on your wrists but let go of your arm to reach around and pull the cane from your mouth. It was more than a little wet from where you had been holding it in your mouth and you wished your hands were free so you could wipe the drool that had run down your chin. 

“I suppose this will be saved for another time.” He muses, tossing the cane to the side. His next move was to release you from the blindfold, granting you sight again. Your eyes immediately squinted and blinked, trying to adjust to the harsh fluorescents of the room again. He kissed down your neck sloppily, overwhelmed with arousal at how well you had taken the experiment. You basked in the shift of attention for a while before he pulled away from you abruptly. You whined at the loss of contact but he shushed you, pulling away entirely letting your hands go.

“Go wait on the bed for me.” He commanded, softly. You nodded moving to the bed still stark naked to wait for him while he undressed. Your attention was once again drawn to the large plug invading your back entrance, as it shifted inside you with every step you took. You wondered to yourself if he would notice if you reached back and pulled the kriffing thing out. But you decided against it as you crawled onto the bed. Of course he would notice. 

He hadn’t told you how he wanted you to wait for him, so you opted to lie on your back, propped up on your elbows, watching as he finished undressing himself and moved over to you. He crawled onto the bed, hovering over you, pressing his mouth against you and you kissed back eagerly, opening wide enough that he could poke his hot wet tongue around, exploring your mouth. His hand slid down, grasping your breast and tweaking one of your nipples between his fingers, making you groan into his mouth. 

You bucked your hips up into him as he twisted and pulled. “Patience,” he warned against your mouth, moving his hand to give your other nipple the same treatment. You whined, and continued bucking yourself upward against his hardened cock, trying to provoke him to hurry up and fuck you already. Suddenly he ripped away from your mouth, grasping your throat roughly and shoving your head back against the pillows.

“You don’t cum until I tell you. Is that clear?” he snarled, pressing just firmly enough to restrict the blood flow to your head. 

“Yes s-supreme leader.” you gasp, knowing the effect his title on your lips had on him. 

“Good girl,” he seemed pleased, releasing your neck, moving his hand down between your legs. His fingers grazed past your entrance, but kept moving further down to where the little plug sat, nestled in your back hole. He twisted and tugged at it, to which you responded with more wiggling and groans. “How’s the new toy treating my little toy?” he pulled it out so that the widest part of the plug was stretching you open again and you squeaked.

“F-full sir, really full.” you tried to respond.

“You better get used to it.” he slammed in all the way back in suddenly, making you jump. “When I shove my cock in there soon, you’re going to feel much more full.”

“Please,” you begged, his words making your pussy clench on nothing and your asshole tighten around the plug.

“Please what?” he hummed, watching you practically writhe on the bed.

“Please fuck me.” You sounded so desperate.

“Fuck you?” he asked in a mocking tone, teasing your clit, his touch was feather light but in your state it was enough to make you jerk your hips.

“Yes, yes please.”

“Have you learned anything today, kitten?” His tone is condescending.

“Yes yes! And I’m so sorry I’ll be so good, please.” you word vomit, hoping you’ll say what he wants to hear.

“You’re sorry?” he taunts, lining himself up.

“Yes, yes I’m really sorry!” you plead, shrieking when he slams into you. 

“Hmm, I better see if I can fuck any last bits of brat out of you, just to be sure.” He begins pounding into you harshly, finally giving you what you want to feel. The sensation of his cokc ramming in and out of you rapidly is only further amplified by the shiny object plugging up your back hole. You felt entirely stuffed, the feeling was overwhelming. “Look at you, I’m going to make such a mess of you kitten, aren’t I?”

“Y-yes supreme leader.” you moaned, every stroke reaching a new depth within.

“Who do you belong to?” He growled, sweat beading on his forehead as he pounded into you.

“Y-you sir.” You pant. He pulled back suddenly, grabbing both of your ankles, he pulled them up and pressed them back as far as you would stretch. You felt the ache grow in your muscles as he slammed into you from the new angle. “Fuck! Kylo I can feel you in my guts!”

“Shit kitten say my name again. Who fucks you so well?” He growled as trying to get his words out straight as you tightened against him.

“You do Kylo! Shit! Kylo!” you were practically howling, tears streaming down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelmed you. “Kylo, k-kylo please, please can I cum?”

“Hold it.” he moved his hand down toying with your clit, making you scream. 

“I-I can’t!”

“You can and you will, what did I just teach you?” He wrapped his free hand around your throat twisting it away from the pillows so he could glare into your glossy eyes and watch you cry.

“Stars! I’m t-trying sir please!” you cried, feeling the familiar knot in your tummy.

“You can do it kitty, make me proud, just a little longer.” He grunted, snapping his hips into you again and again. You cried harder but nodded, watching his concentration as he fucked you into the mattress. He’d make you wait longer, but he was nearing the edge himself.

“Kylo!” You cried, the sensation was building and you knew you couldn’t hold off much longer.

“Shit, come for me angel, be a good girl and cum on my cock. SHIT!” He yelled head twitching inside of you, unloading his seed deep inside of you.

“Kylo!” You cried the knot inside of you exploded and he released inside of you, squeezing again and again as he continued rocking into you. You sobbed loudly, totally blissed out, and entirely overwhelmed. 

Finally, his hips slowed, he let out a grunt, not bothering to pull out of you yet, he collapsed onto you, his heavy weight pressing you into the mattress, comforting you. He buried his face in your neck, panting and you weakly reached your arms up to wrap around his neck, still sobbing into his shoulder as you came down from your high. 

“I’m here angel, I’ve got you.” He pet your head as you cried his name. You could feel his heartbeat, steady across your chest as you came down. Soon your crying was reduced to slow ragged breaths, and you seemed to re-enter your body, all too aware of the wax still stuck to your back, your wrists aching from the cuffs, your pounding head, the foriegn presence in your ass, and the overall feeling of achiness and exhaustion. 

Kylo and his impressive stamina recovered much quicker than you. He pulled his weight off of you, kissed your forehead, and scooped you up, ignoring your noises of protest, he moved and carried you to the refresher. He sat down with you in his lap on the edge of the tub, leaning to plug the tub and turn on the water. 

“Did so well kitten, I’m so proud of you.” he muttered, tightening his hold on you, kissing your temple. 

“M’sore.” you grumble softly. 

“I know baby, here.” He stood and moved you to stand on your feet. You whined again when he let go of you and pressed you slightly to lean over the sink. “Shh, just taking this out.” He hushed you softly, reaching down to work the plug out of you as gently as possible. When more sad noises left your lips, he reached his free hand out for you to grasp. You took it quickly, squeezing a few of his thick fingers in your fist every time you felt a stretch. He let you without complaining, you weren’t really hurting him, especially compared to what he had put you through. 

When he was finished he tugged you up into his chest again, and you nuzzled against him. You were still wobbly from being so fucked out, but his tall, sturdy frame took on most of your weight. He ran his hand up and down your back slowly, cooing more praises to you, about how proud he was, and how good you had been. The skin to skin between the two of you was all too comforting, and you felt your eyes drooping shut to the sound of his thumping chest and the sound of the bath still filling up.

[clanoffetts]

Tales From Bespin, Vol. III: Someone Different

Lando Calrissian x Reader x Boba Fett

Warnings: porn with a smidge of plot (18+); anal play, butt plugs, lando is an extravagant bisexual who loves fashion; boba is a reserved bisexual who only cares for the color of butt plugs; threesome!!; name calling?

word count: 5.6k

“Good afternoon, love,” a smooth voice says from the doorway. “Your room is still suiting you well, yes?” 

“Yes, Lando, they are” you reply, turning to look at the man. Clad in extravagant burgundy robes today, he was a brilliant contrast to the constant bright white of everything in Cloud City. 

He smiles, allowing himself to venture further into your room. “I’m glad, darling,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Always with the nicknames and the flattery, Lando was. Today he seemed to lay it on heavy, though. 

“Something is wrong,” you say. It is not a question, and Lando knows that. 

And yet he answers with, “No, my dove, nothing is wrong.”

Your eyebrow arches at him. You’d learned enough from him over the past few months to know better than that. 

“Yes, it is,” you insist. “You’ve been wanting to gain my trust, and yet you lie.”

His voice is a whisper now, and he leans close. “It is not without good reason. Lord Vader is coming.”

You suddenly wished you had let him lie. “What?”

“Lord Vader is coming to Cloud City. He requests I negotiate with him,” Lando says. There is worry in his eyes, he can’t out-talk Vader, much less out-smart him. 

You pull him into a hug, clinging onto him tightly. You’d never held him this tight. Not even those days and nights on the ship when you’d woken up in his arms in the shared bunk. Nor when you’d kissed him. Nor when you’ve fucked him. 

Lando wanted so badly to relish the feeling of your arms so tight around him, your forehead in the crook of his neck. But he couldn’t, not with the fear of Vader’s impending arrival, not with the feeling of your tears on his neck. 

“It’ll be alright,” Lando says. “We must cooperate.”

“We?”

He nods. “Yes, darling, we. I must cooperate with the Empire, you must cooperate with me.”

“I’m a grown woman, Lando. I can handle myself.”

“No one can handle themself when it comes to the Empire,” he says. “We will move your things into my rooms. They’re bigger, they’ll be more comfortable for you to stay in while Vader is here.”

You pull out of the hug enough to look at him. “Am I to be held hostage by you, Calrissian? Is this not the same as the situation you got me out of?” 

Your words are a dagger. When Lando’s heart began to swell with attraction on the ship after he’d rescued you, he’d promised you a place in Cloud City. And that he’d never harm you. 

“My dove,” he sighs. “You don’t have to. But it will be safer, I think. Besides, I can’t take you with me to negotiations, stormtroopers will be everywhere, and this room will get boring.”

You’re uncertain still, more out of stubbornness than anything else. “Lando, I don’t know. And it’s not like you’ll always be with Vader, right? We can still dine like normal. Stormtroopers won’t harm me if I keep to myself.”

His hands find your forearms, holding them in desperation. “Darling, if you dine with me like normal, if you follow me around the city, Vader will know you are important. They’ll know how much you mean to me.”

A smile spreads across your features despite your worry. It’s been a long week of waking up early, letting Lando press one of the many plugs into your ass, going about your business meetings and fashion fittings, and then having Lando fuck the soul out of you every night. Sometimes you’d wander back to your room if you’re done quite early and Lando leaves to play a game of sabacc, which you’ve learned can accomplish more than business meetings often could. There wasn’t a title on what the two of you were, but you were certain he’d gladly call himself your boyfriend. And you’d gladly be his girlfriend. 

“You’re important, too,” you say. “But I guess you can’t hide away in your room.”

The smile he gives you is dripping in pity. “Darling, I’m sorry. But they shouldn’t be here long. At least, Vader shouldn’t.”

You sigh. He just wants you to be kept safe, how can you be mad? After all, he’s seen much more of the galaxy than you. There have been a lot of dangerous criminals come through Cloud City, and this is the first time he’s been properly worried. “Alright.”

His eyes light up. “What should we bring? Your sewing stuff? Fabrics?”

“Well,” you start. “Do you think the Empire will be here long? If not I could use a break but if they’re here for a while I’ll need to keep working…”

“Better safe than sorry darling,” he replies with a smile. “I have a threepio unit get on that. For now, though, let’s have one last lunch outside.” He offers his arm for you to take, and you do. 

Out on the little balcony there was a table set with sandwiches and other snacky things, along with different juices. Ever the gentleman, Lando pulls out a seat for you. When you sit, a small whimper escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright, beautiful?” Lando asks with a smirk. 

You roll your eyes at him. “Of course I am.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks at your shared secret. The secret? The dark red jeweled butt plug that Lando had worked into you earlier that day. You’d gotten used to it for the most part, but somethings still send shivers up your body and sounds out of your mouth. 

“Wanted to ask you something,” Lando says. 

“And what’s that?”

“You mentioned something the other night,” he starts. “About all three holes…”

“Lando!” you gasp, looking around for anyone who might’ve heard him. “Someone could hear you!”

He laughs a little. “Darling, there’s no one else out here. I promise.” You sigh, and motion your hand for him to continue. “I was thinking I could start looking for someone. You know to help fuc-”

“Lando!” You whisper-yell. “At least be quieter!”

He lowers his voice this time, “Someone to help fuck you. Unless you already had someone in mind?”

“I’m not sure,” you reply. “Not a friend or anything. Or someone who’s here too often, I wouldn’t want things to get weird.”

“Well, I’ll keep my eye out,” he says with a wink.

The lunch was nice, though somewhat bittersweet because of the Empire’s dark shadow that looms over the planet. But it also filled you with excitement. The mix of the plug pressing in your ass and the talk of a threesome had you on edge for the rest of the day. Well, most of the day. The first Imperial ships arrived at dusk, casting shadows over the usually bright planet. All of your essentials were moved into Lando’s room and so you spent your evening designing new clothes, working on orders, and scrolling through the news feeds to see what people were saying about the Empire’s presence. Of course, most of it was positive, but a few negative things slipped through the filtering. 

You were already exhausted from being in Lando’s room, but you knew he was under enough stress having to entertain the Empire without having to worry about you.

-

Lando’s mouth hurt from fake smiles. His voice ached from fake laughter. Finally, he slipped away from the Moffs and Admirals and other people who find themselves to be extremely important. Lando maintained Cloud City’s reputation, though. There was lots of drinking and gambling and fucking, and usually Lando would indulge, but he really did wish to be back in his room, with you, easing out the small plug for a larger one...what he wouldn’t give.

Instead, he slipped away into a darker corner that he thought was unoccupied. “If it isn’t Lando Calrissian,” a deep, modulated voice said from behind him.

Lando whipped around, cloak swishing violently. “What is a Mandalorian doing in Cloud City?”

“Bounty,” the Mandalorian replied. A lightbulb went off in Lando’s head. Maybe this bounty hunter could be the third in your threesome. Especially if he’s only here on work.

Lando held out his hand. “I’m Lando, though you already knew that.”

The Mandalorian shifted his blaster so he could take Lando’s hand. “Boba Fett.”

“Do you like Alderaanian toniray, Boba?” Boba nodded curtly. “Let me buy you a glass then. Gotta get some before it’s all gone.” With Alderaan destroyed not that long ago, toniray had become a hot commodity. And not one that Lando offered freely. However, he’d wine and dine anyone if it made you happy. 

“As you wish,” Boba said and Lando led the way to a private booth. Well, it would’ve been private if it weren’t for the stormtroopers stationed outside any secluded place that could be used to conspire. 

Lando tried to spark conversation with the Mandalorian over the glasses of the light blue liquor, but it did not work. Boba did not even remove his helmet. He’d brought a straw. “You know, it tastes better if you don’t have to suck it like that, it messes up the taste,” Lando had said but Boba obviously didn’t care. 

Eventually, they just sat and listened to the stormtroopers talk. Boba had said one thing, though, and it was, “They’re so dumb, it’s entertainment.” And, Maker, he was right. 

After some quite dumb debates over little things, one of the troopers said, “You know the female orgasm is a myth?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Read it on the ‘Net. In every species, too, not just humanoids.”

Lando turned to look at Boba, who also turned to look at Lando. Lando couldn’t see Boba, but he knew that Boba was, at the very least, grinning at these two idiots.

“You sure? I’m pretty sure I’ve made a girl come,” a trooper said.

The other trooper replied, “No, man, it’s, like science or something. I read it on the ‘Net.”

Lando turned to Boba and said, “I really didn’t think any men thought that.”

Boba nodded. “It’s a shame really, so many women don’t come,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“My girlfriend told me about that the first time we slept together,” Lando hoped you wouldn’t mind the oversharing if he brought back this hunk of a Mandalorian. “Fixed that, though.”

Boba chuckled. “Good,” he said. “Women deserve more than idiots like that can give them.”

Lando started testing the waters now. “She’s gorgeous, my girl. Beautiful when she comes. Beautiful when she squirms, too.”

“Yeah?”

Lando nodded, tipping the rest of the toniray down his throat. “In fact, she’d be willing to show you. If you wanted to see, of course.”

“You’re offering me a threesome?”

Lando nodded. “We’ve been talking about it. You seem like her type.” It was a lie, Lando didn’t know what your type was. The Mandalorian believed him.

“Well, where is she?”

“I’ll take you to her.”

-

You sat on the huge bed, watching some holovids when the door creaked open. You still wore the gold dress that hugged your chest and then flowed like a river down the rest of your body. “Lando!” 

“I have something to tell you, darling,” he says as you rush to hug him. You cocked your head. “I think I found our third person.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a Mandalorian named Boba,” Lando says. “He’s not necessarily nice but I’m pretty sure we can trust him. And I’m definitely sure he’ll make you feel good.”

You smile. “If you trust him, I trust him. Where is he?”

Lando motions to the door, and you open it. Standing there was a man clad in green Mandalorian armor, it’s seen better days, but it seems to have held up pretty good. He’s not super tall, but kriff he is imposing. The weapons on him alone are enough to intimidate but his entire aura is commanding. His presence is so similar to Lando’s yet so different.

“Hello, Princess,” Boba says. “Or should I say Baroness?”

He’s said all of seven words to you and you’re already at a loss for words. You knew Lando was a Baron or whatever, but you’d never thought much of it until now. 

“I’m not really a baron,” he says. “But she does like being called names.” Lando is beside you, an arm around your waist. “Alright, gorgeous, what are your limits for tonight?”

You bite your lip. “I’m not really sure. I mean, nothing too hardcore, but maybe just ask me before you do something?”

“I figured Calrissian would’ve shown you enough to know your limits,” Boba teases. 

You suddenly feel defensive. “He has- He has shown me a lot,” you babble, your face heating up. “Just haven’t arrived at my limits.”

Boba just nods and moves on. “Surely we aren’t going to fuck on a sofa?”

Lando chuckles and shakes his head. “Bed’s through here.” Lando leads the party through the door and whispers to you, “Remember, we can stop any time.” You nod and squeeze his hand.

Lando leaves your side for a moment to draw back the tapestry that covers the large mirror at the end of the bed. Meanwhile, Boba has made himself comfortable in a char near the foot of the bed. “Why don’t you hop up on the bed, little one,” Boba suggests, motioning his hand towards the bed.

You feel awkward hoisting yourself up on the large bed with Boba’s eyes boring into you. The visor of his helmet gives nothing away, and while the mystery turns you on, it also scares you. But if Lando trusts him…

“Gorgeous, darling,” Lando says with a warm smile. He climbs onto the bed behind you, pulling you to rest against his chest. “Let’s present you for our new friend, hmm?” He lifts your legs up over his, spreading your legs and hiking your dress up so much so that you’re sure Boba can see your bare pussy. 

“She is very pretty,” Boba remarks. And that’s all. He has sat the blaster on the floor next to him, and you count that as him getting comfortable. 

Lando hands are running over the smoothness of the dress, and he finally stops at your tits. “You want to show Boba your tits, darling?”

“Yes,” you whimper, glancing over at the dark visor. Kriff, you wish you could see his eyes. “Boba,” you say, and he perks up a little. “Could...Could you take your helmet off?”

Lando tuts. “You’re forgetting your manners, darling,” he says. 

“Boba could you please take your helmet off? Please?”

He nods. His fingers mess with clasps and then there is a hiss and then there is his face. He’s gorgeous, tanned, scarred skin, strong brows, and poorly trimmed curly hair. You smile at him, but all he does is nod. 

“Now I think we can show him your tits,” Lando murmurs. And you nod and whimper a please. Lando’s hands come to the straps of the dress and gently ease them down before easing the tight bodice over the well of your breasts down to your stomach.

As each breast pops free from the tight restrictions of the gown, you faintly hear Boba suck in a breath. “Gorgeous tits, mesh’la,” Boba murmurs. You don’t know what the foreign word means, but it makes you feel warm inside.

Lando presses a kiss to your temple as he squeezes your tits and teases your nipples. “He’s right, pretty girl,” Lando says. “Gorgeous.”

Lando’s hand runs from your breast down to your stomach, pushing the dress even further down. He’s looking at you like one of the many art pieces he’s acquired over the years. “Bounty hunters like Fett don’t know how to appreciate works of art like I do, sweetheart.” His hand runs up to your breast again, tweaking a nipple and smiling when you gasp.

“And little rich boy love-makers like Calrissian,” Boba says, standing from the chair. “Don’t know how to give them a good fuck.”

You can’t help but giggle at the two men bickering over who could treat you the best. You’re not sure your body can handle it. 

“Then why don’t you show me,” Lando says. “Show me how to give her a good fuck then.”

“Gladly,” Boba smirks, approaching the bed. “Move out of our way, Calrissian.” Lando moves from his place behind you to sit beside you, watching with awe at how Boba approached. 

“Let’s get you out of this flimsy little thing,” Boba says, and you lift your hips so he can pull the dress all the way off. He tosses the gold fabric over his shoulder without a care in the galaxy. “So kriffing pretty,” Boba says, running a hand over your stomach to your hip and giving you a squeeze. “Your boyfriend was telling me some filthy things about you, princess.” 

Your breath grows ragged as you think about Lando and Boba discussing your sex. “Oh?”

“Mhm. Told me you’re pretty when you squirm,” Boba’s gloved hands were starting to warm up on your skin, as he continued to rub the skin of your hip. “I’d like to see you squirm.” 

You arch your back up, trying to push your tits up so that he’d touch them. “Mesh’la, you’re already so desperate,” he tuts. “She always this fucking needy?” He asks Lando.

Lando’s hand comes to pet your hair. “Always. I have a little trick, though.” Boba raises an eyebrow. “Turn her over and find out, Fett. You’re supposed to be the teacher, not me.”

With curious hands, Boba helps you turn onto your belly. “What’s your boyfriend’s little trick, mesh’la?” He asks, gently rubbing the globes of your ass. “Can I spank you, little one?”

“Please,” you whisper. 

And he does. He lands a fairly soft smack to your ass, but you felt it deep inside, thanks to the plug. “Hmm,” Boba pretends to think. “I think he’s plugged you up, am I right?” You whine, and Boba’s hands are spreading your ass. Nestled between your cheeks is a gorgeous dark red jewel, and Boba groans at the sight. “Very pretty jewel,” Boba says, applying some pressure to the plug and gently moving it around. “However, I think you’re matching your boyfriend.” Of course Boba had noticed your coordination with Lando’s capes. 

“Coincidence,” Lando laughs.

Boba shakes his head. “I wasn’t born yesterday. We’re going to have to change that, little one. Got any dark green plugs?” 

“She’s got every color,” Lando smiles as he goes to retrieve the box of plugs. And when he returns and presents them to Boba, he chuckles. 

“You’re both dirty things, aren’t you,” he says, selecting the medium sized emerald green plug from the box. “Grab her some lube, Calrissian,” he commands.

You clench your thighs in anticipation. It’s really starting, now. “Gonna take this out of you, mesh’la,” Boba murmurs against your back. “That ok?” He presses a few opened mouth kisses as you whimper a yes, and then his hands fly to the plug. He grasps the rounded jewel and gently eases it out of you, twisting and teasing a little along the way. 

Lando returns with the lube as Boba spreads your ass cheeks again, “Look at that tight hole,” Boba says. “Stretching it little by little.” 

“She’s doing so good training her asshole,” Lando praises. “Gonna take my cock one day, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Maker, yes,” you respond, voice breathy and needy. 

Lando is back beside you as you hear the bottle of lube open. “Ready for a bigger plug?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

Lando pets your hair again and whispers, “Manners, darling. That’s no way to treat a guest.” 

“Yes, please,” you correct and as soon as the last syllable leaves your mouth, you feel the cool lube on your hole. “Please,” you whine a little louder this time.

“Patience is a virtue, mesh’la,” Boba teases, but you don't have to wait long before the tip of the plug nudges against the tight muscle. “Gonna split you open, mesh’la,” he says as he pushes the plug deeper, and finally your hole closes around it and the rest of the way is easy. “Much better,” he says, tossing the dark red plug to Lando. 

Boba’s leather gloves are back on your hips, manhandling you back onto your back. “Open your mouth, princess,” he commands, and you obey. He slips a finger in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around it. You can only describe the taste as leather with a hint of Boba, some kind of musk from the underbelly of the galaxy that you’ve never visited. “Bite down.” You do, and he pulls his hand from the glove, leaving just the leather in your mouth. He takes the glove and tosses it to join your dress, and then has you repeat it with the other. 

“Now, go give your lover a blowjob, princess,” he says. “Put that pretty mouth to use.” You obey, crawling up towards Lando who was already freeing himself from his pants. He was hard, precum already leaking and you ached to have him inside you. “Go on, mesh’la,” Boba encourages. “Suck Calrissian’s cock like a good girl.”

You pump Lando’s cock with your hand a few times before taking his head in your mouth, sucking softly. Your knees are folded under you, and you go to move, but Boba holds you in place. You gasp around Lando’s cock as something wet touches your clit. It’s Boba’s tongue. 

“Boba,” you moan, popping off of Lando’s cock. 

“No, no,” Boba reprimands. “Don’t let me distract you. I told you to be a good girl and suck Calrissian’s cock.”

You nod and return to Lando, taking his cock as far down your throat it would go without gagging. Boba also returns to his ministrations, and as you moan around Lando’s cock, his hand tightens in your hair. “So pretty with a cock in your mouth,” Lando praises. “Making me feel so good. Such a good girl.” 

You continue sucking Lando’s cock, swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand strokes his shaft. Boba’s slow licks to your cunt bring you closer and closer to the edge, the pace impossibly measured. You try to grind down on Boba’s face but his hands quickly move to hold you in place, his tongue never missing a beat. You slip Lando’s cock out of your mouth to whimper, “I’m going to come!”

Boba’s tongue is gone just as quickly as it came. “Not yet, mesh’la,” he says. “We want to see you squirm.” 

Lando strokes your cheek. “You gonna be good and not come until Boba lets you?” You nod. “Alright, good girl, ask Boba what he wants you to do next.”

“What do you want me to do next, Boba?” You ask quietly, growing shy again. 

Boba grabs your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “I want you to suck my cock now, pretty girl.” He relaxes back against the pillows now, shedding the codpiece of his armor to reveal his bulge. “What do you want Calrissian to do, mesh’la?” You tear your eyes away from the outline of Boba’s cock to look at Lando. 

“Will you finger me, please?” 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Lando says with a smirk.

You turn back to Boba, who has finally freed his cock from his pants. And kriff  he is huge. He’s average length, but he’s so fucking thick. Lando is longer, though not as thick. “I don’t think staring constitutes good manners,” Boba taunts. 

You swallow as you bend down to take him in your mouth. You work your lips around him, already feeling so stretched. You almost forgot that you’d asked Lando to finger you, but as he spreads your thighs apart you remember. “Your pussy is swollen, pretty girl,” he says. “Barely gotten any attention and she’s already swollen, Fett.”

“She’s a needy little slut, aren’t you, mesh’la?” You hum around his cock and then truly moan as Lando works two fingers inside your dripping hole. 

“I think I prefer the red plug,” Lando says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

Boba’s hand is buried in your hair now, pulling harder than Lando would. “Funny, Calrissian,” he says, and then groans as you whine around his cock. “But green is obviously her color.” Boba starts guiding you on his cock, never making you take him too deep. It’s almost as if he can read your mind. Especially as you started to think you couldn’t do it anymore, your jaw was getting sore, and Boba pulled you off him. “Good girl,” he praises. “Are you close to coming?”

“Almost,” you whine, pushing back on Lando’s fingers. He curls them in just the right spot and you moan, “Lando, please, please, please,” as he keeps pushing his fingers right into that spot, over and over. 

“You want to come, pretty girl?” He asks, and you frantically nod. “Then you’d better beg Boba.” 

You turn your attention back to Boba. You study his face, the slight curl of his lips, the wide bridge of his nose, the crinkles by his eyes. You stare so intently into his dark eyes and beg, “Please Boba, please can I come? I’ll be so good, I promise, please,” your babbling gets more and more incoherent as you continue but you don’t care. You want to come so bad. 

He tilts his head, offers you a smile of pity, and says. “No. You cannot.” Lando’s fingers slip out of you and you collapse onto the bed. “But you can take my cock in that pretty little cunt.” 

You whine at the thought, the idea of the stretch of his cock, of the release it would bring. But you know he will deny you again. “If it’s too much, tell us,” Lando says, and Boba hums in agreement.

“Not too much,” you say. “Wanna take Boba’s cock like a good girl.” 

Lando helps you onto your hands and knees, and Boba makes his way to your ass. Lando caresses your face with a smooth hand. “There’s my good girl.” 

“Alright, mesh’la, here we go,” Boba says. Your mouth hangs open as he pushes in, the stretch bigger than anything you’d felt, and while he couldn’t reach the same spots as Lando, he’d found his own. “So fucking tight, wow,” he groans as he bottoms out. “You want to know how to fuck, Calrissian? This is how you fuck,” Boba drags his cock out slowly before slamming back into you. 

“Boba!” You cry, and you can already feel him pulling out again. You brace yourself on Lando as Boba slams into you again, mouth hanging open and drool pooling on your tongue. 

Lando coos, “So good, baby, so good.” Lando is on his knees in front of you, holding his cock in hand, and says, “I’m going to put my cock in your mouth, gorgeous, since it’s hanging open so pretty.” 

The only response you can muster is a nod as Boba relentlessly fucks into you. It’s so different from Lando, and you liked it, but you ached to have Lando’s fast yet gentle strokes. Not that you were opposed to coming on Boba’s cock, of course. 

Lando being back in your mouth gave you a thrill. All three holes. You felt full, to say the least. The feeling intensified when you moaned, barely able to hear it because of Lando’s cock and the slapping of Boba’s skin against yours. You felt your release coming, again, as Boba slapped your ass. “Take cock so well,” he grunts. “So -nngh- fucking good!”

Boba’s hand is in your hair, and he pulls your mouth off Lando’s length. “Don’t you fucking come, pretty thing. Not yet.” 

You let out your loudest, most pathetic moan of the night as Boba gives one final thrust and then pulls out quickly. You thought the next thing you’d feel was his cum on your ass, but you don’t. “Get back here and make your girl come, Calrissian,” Boba demands. Lando and Boba switch spots, Boba’s thick cock back in front of you. “Lando’s gonna stuff your pussy with cum, and I’m going to fill your mouth, mesh’la.”

You feel Lando’s head against your hole. “Going to be such a good cumslut, aren’t you sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you whine. “Yes!” And then you’re full. Again. Boba gives a shallow thrust into your mouth and Lando sinks himself into your cunt. Your moans are muffled again, but this time there are more, they’re needier. 

“Listen to her, Fett,” Lando says. “Adorable little whines.”

“Pathetic moans,” Boba corrects. “For a needy little girl.” 

The filthy words are too much, Lando’s consistent, deep, and yet somehow gentle thrusts are too much, the stretch of Boba’s cock in your mouth is too much. You try to warn them that you’re going to come, and miraculously, Boba understands. “Go on,” he coos. “Come around our cocks. Make us fill you with cum.”

And you do. You come in a mess of whines and muffled begging, squirming towards Lando but not wanting to move from Boba. Your body shakes with the orgasm, toes curling, fingers gripping the nice duvet. You finally regain some of your senses to hear the two men moaning. All because of you.

“Ready to take my cum?” Lando grunts, and before you know it you can feel him spill inside you, coating your walls so deliciously. You don’t know what it is about Boba that brought out the rougher, meaner side of Lando, but it was amazing.

And then it’s Boba’s turn, “Going to come, mesh’la,” he moans, and then your mouth is full. You’re so full. Boba slips out of your mouth. Both men are sitting back on their haunches, regaining their breath as you flop onto your side. Fucked out and full of cum. “Show me,” Boba murmurs, and you do, opening your mouth and showing him his load on your tongue before you swallow it. Once it’s gone from your mouth you open again. “So good,” he praises. 

Both men get off the bed, Lando helps you down off the bed for a moment. “Let me turn the sheets down, darling,” he says. You give him a blissed out smile, and his heart feels like it’s going to explode. Kriff, he’d employ Boba and do this every night if he could keep that fucked-out smile on your face. 

Just as Lando helps you up under the covers, Boba returns with a towel, damp on one side. “Here you go, mesh’la, let’s clean you up.” He wipes some of the cum from your thighs, then the cum from your chin. “There you go, princess,” he says, getting back up to take the towel to a basket. 

“Let’s take that plug out, pretty girl,” Lando coos, and you turn onto your side, allowing him access to your ass. As he eases the plug out of you, he apologizes everytime you wince. Finally, the plug is out and on the nightstand and you feel empty. You whine. 

“Hey, shh,” Lando comforts. “Give us a moment, we’ll come cuddle you.”

“We?” Boba asks.

“You gonna pump and run?”

Boba shakes his head. “Most people prefer that.”

“Not us,” Lando says as he starts to strip down to his boxers. 

Boba tries to conceal his smile. No one’s ever wanted him to stay the night before. And sometimes he didn’t have enough credits for that long. “Alright then,” Boba replies, starting to unclasp his armor. He’s not sure if it’s the warmth in Lando’s smile or the warmth of your pussy that makes him feel like he can trust the two of you, but he relishes the feeling, because tomorrow when finally secures Han Solo, he probably won’t be seen as a friend anymore.

Eventually, after lots of armor clanking on the ground, you’re nestled between the two men. Your head is on Lando’s chest, Boba’s head is on your belly, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You can tell the Mandalorian hasn’t felt too many soft touches, and your heart aches for him. Under his scars and his muscles, he’s a softy, you can feel it. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” Lando murmurs against your head. “I’m glad we got to do this.”

“I love you, too, Lando,” you reply. “And thank you, Boba. I think it’s safe to say you’re always welcome in Cloud City, if you want to stay. Or, at least, pay us another visit.”

Boba wishes he could. But the knowledge that you wouldn't say that if you knew he was here by a tip from Lord Vader himself or that he’d be capturing and probably killing one of Lando’s oldest friends. “As you wish, princess,” is all he can muster before he lets himself succumb to the warmth and comfort that he gets to have tonight.

@delusionsxfgrandeur @hansonveggieclub @fuckyeahbeskar @tibbietibbs !!