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itsybitsybatsyspider · 2 years ago
two of my sisters think that writing fanfiction is a shameful and embarrassing hobby. So please reblog if you disagree because honestly i have to hide a piece of who i am just because they dont like it.
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zoe-oneesama · 2 years ago
Lies Don’t Last
Warning! Chameleon Sneak Peak Spoilers Below!
Please read this with the knowledge I posted this post-sneak peak, pre-episode!
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
Startled from her forlorn gazing, she turned to face the owner of the voice. She’d came back from lunch alone; she sat in her new seat alone; she was ready to finish out the rest of the school day. Alone.
Which is why she was so surprised to see Adrien standing beside her.
“U-um… Sure?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Adrien smiled at her before sitting down and placing his bag on the desk. When he turned to face her he found her staring resolutely at her tablet, causing his grin to drop. The more he stared at her down turned lips and slumped shoulders, the more guilt built inside his chest.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Adrien sighed. “I’m really sorry, Marinette.”
That seemed to get her attention. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “…for what?”
“I should’ve said something.” His head hung back against the backrest in defeat and his eyebrows formed a crease between them. “I should’ve done more to stand up for you. You just didn’t want to sit back here by yourself, right? I should’ve defended you... But I didn’t just because I was too uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
“Adrien…” Marinette began, but paused and cracked a small smile. “It’s okay. I am pretty lonely back here, but you didn’t do anything wrong.” In a small moment of courage, she bumped shoulders with him. “Didn’t you try to give up your seat for me? I promise, I’m not mad at you.”
Adrien’s eye brightened but he could tell from a glance that Marinette was still far from fine. “Is it Lila?”
Her face darkened for a moment before smoothing out into that neutral frown he was starting to hate. “Honestly, I barely care about her.”
Her eyes lowered to glare down at her hands. “I think she’s a liar and I don’t think she really has tinnitus, but honestly, that barely matters to me anymore.” Her glare faded, her scowl softening from a grimace to a gloomy frown. He hadn’t seen her this distressed since she thought her uncle didn’t like her. “It wasn’t Lila who made me sit in the back. It wasn’t Lila who gave up my seat for her boyfriend.”
“Oh…” Alya.
“She didn’t even ask me!” Marinette’s voice rose, her angry tone startling Adrien. “She just decided where I should go! She just decided I’d be fine with being in the back of the room all by myself, where I can see her happily carrying on like nothing’s changed!” She paused for breath, eyes glossy despite her anger. “I mean, what if this is permanent?! What if this is where we’re going to be the rest of the year?! She’s really okay with not sitting next to me anymore?! Does she just not care?! She’s my best friend, but she just kicked me out!”
“It’s not like Lila is magically going to be ‘cured’!” Marinette was getting louder and threw her hands up in anger. He was very glad that no one had left the cafeteria yet. “Oh, but as soon as I get upset about it, I’m the bad guy! Because Marinette’s not ALLOWED to be mad! She just has to be nice to everyone. They can take what they want from her, but who cares if she’s upset that everyone went behind her back-”
Adrien grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her mid-rant. She panted heavily as she snapped back to reality. Adrien swore he could see a flash of purple in the corner of his eye, but he kept his focus on the distraught girl in front of him. “Breathe with me, Marinette. Slowly. In and out. Just match my breathing, okay?” Marinette’s bottom lip wobbled a bit, but she kept her eyes locked on his.
“In… Out….”
They did this for a few seconds until Marinette had calmed herself down. She let out a sniff and viciously rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry…” she said meekly, breaking Adrien’s heart even more.
“Don’t be.” He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. “It’s okay that you’re upset. You have every reason to be.”
“But everyone got so mad…”
“Well everyone needs to get over themselves,” he said dismissively. “It’s easy for them to judge; they don’t have to give up their seats.”
“I thought they were my friends.” Marinette’s shoulders started to tremble under his hands. “I didn’t think they’d turn on me so easily…”
“They are your friends, Marinette.” He ducked his head to meet her eyes. “And when they realize they overreacted, they’ll apologize for hurting your feelings.”
She looked back at him through wet eyelashes. “What if they don’t?”
“Then you’re allowed to be hurt by that, too. You don’t have to be happy and accommodating all the time. It’s okay to be selfish for once.”
She searched his face for a while before letting out another sniffle and finally smiling back at him, wobbly but genuine. “Thank you, Adrien.”
Adrien gave her a grin in return. “No problem, Marinette.” The purple blob he thought he saw was gone.
As she wiped away the remaining tears, classmates started to trickle in slowly. A few raised eyebrows at Adrien but otherwise said nothing. Rose and Juleka looked at each other worriedly when they saw Marinette rubbing tears off her face, occasionally peeking over their shoulders as they spoke in whispers.
When Marinette finally collected herself, she gestured vaguely to Adrien’s bag still sitting on top of the desk. “Are you really okay with sitting here?”
“What do you mean?” he said, taking out his tablet and tablet pen. I’m not leaving you alone now.
“You won’t be close to Nino, you know.”
“That’s okay, he and Alya are so wrapped up in each other that I wonder if he’ll even notice.” His nose scrunched up at the thought and Marinette let out a small giggle. He flushed happily before his hand returned to the back of his neck. “And I missed you.”
“H-huh?” Marinette blushed brightly. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. “R-really?”
“Yeah. I like talking to you, Marinette.”
“O-oh.” She fumbled a bit with her tablet pen,a warm bubbly sensation in her chest filling the hollowness she’d felt all morning. “W-what about Lila? You won’t miss sitting next to her?”
“Ah, well...” Adrien winced before gesturing for Marinette to lean closer to him. Curiosity overcame her nerves as he brought his hand up to whisper conspiratorially into her ear. “If I’m being honest, sitting next to Lila is a little—”
The two jumped away from each other when hands slammed against their desktop. Desperately trying to calm their erratically beating hearts as they looked into the narrowed eyes of the girl they were just talking about.
As soon as Lila had Adrien’s attention, she put on an overly-exaggerated smile. “Adrien~” she cooed in her saccharine sweet voice. “Class is about to start. We really should be getting back to our seats.” She batted her eyes flirtatiously, eager to get the model back to her desk.
Marinette’s eye twitched at the emphasis on ‘our’ - another dig at Marinette’s forced isolation - yet she held her tongue.
“Actually, Lila, I’m going to sit back here with Marinette. So, I’m okay, thanks.” Adrien flashed her a smile before powering up his tablet.
Lila’s eyes shot over to the aforementioned girl before she schooled her expression into an upset pout. “But Adrien! You said you’d help me during class! I’ve missed so much; I’m going to be way behind.” She reached out and gently stroked his left shoulder, ignoring how he leaned away from the contact. “You’re not going back on your word, are you?”
Marinette nearly growled at her. She was clearly trying to take advantage of Adrien’s kindness! How was Adrien supposed to say no to that? Why can’t she see how uncomfortable he is?! Ugh, this is just like this morning.
But Adrien surprised both girls by lightly grasping Lila’s hand and pulling it off his shoulder.
“Actually Lila, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to sit next to each other.” He released her hand but gave the offending limb a meaningful stare. “It seems you’re too distracted to actually focus on your work. Sitting next to me seems a detriment to both of our studies.”
Lila flushed angrily at the implication. She thought the boy was too nice to properly turn down her flirtations, yet here he was, throwing them back in her face! Well, she’d just go for some flattery. Boys liked when pretty girls flattered them. “What could you possibly mean by that Adrien? How could I possibly be distracted with such a diligent student next to me?”
“It’s really hard to focus when you keep touching me, Lila.” He glanced up at her. “My father won’t like it if my grades drop because I can’t take notes. Plus, I don’t really like it.”
Lila shot up ramrod straight in embarrassment. She didn’t expect Adrien to be so blunt about her flirting - and in front of other people! She had to go for the wounded animal route; that would convince Adrien. It worked against Marinette, after all.
Lila widened her eyes to make them water and quivered her bottom lip. “Adrien, if I was making you uncomfortable, you should’ve said something! I’d never want to make my friends feel bad on purpose!”
Marinette rolled her eyes, bringing up her tablet up to block her face from the rest of the class. Anyone with half a brain cell could tell Adrien was physically recoiling from Lila’s touches. Well, anyone that bothered to pay attention, she thought grumpily.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m telling you now though, so it shouldn’t be a problem anymore, right?” Adrien smiled sweetly, but didn’t budge. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding, but I’m still going to sit here with Marinette.”
“But Adrien-!”
“You should probably go back to your seat, Lila. Like you said, class is about to start, and you need to be up front, right? Because of your tinnitus?”
Her poor victim scheme had failed, but Lila was more aware of the rest of the class trying to pretend they weren’t paying attention. She kept up her façade and tried to appear as pitiful as possible as she slumped her way to the front.
When she plopped into her seat, she made sure to turn towards Nino and Alya, hoping to grab their sympathy. She looked up through her bangs, sure to appear extremely put down. “Do you really think I make Adrien uncomfortable?” Tell me he’s overreacting, tell me he’s being unreasonable, that I did nothing wrong, tell me, tell me!
Nino was instantly uncomfortable, not equipped for dealing with crying girls. He fiddled with the back of his hat, looking anywhere but at Lila. “Well, if he said as much, then you probably were. Adrien’s not usually one to tell people off for being too touchy, so it must’ve been more than he could handle.” Realizing how that might sound, he lurched towards Lila, waving a hand to almost dismiss his words. “N-not that I think you were making him uncomfortable on purpose! I know you didn’t mean to, right dude?”
“Right…” Lila shifted back towards the front of the class so he couldn’t see her scowl. She heard laughter from the back and turned abruptly to see Adrien and Marinette giggling over something Adrien was showing her on his tablet. Her eyes narrowed at the hand Adrien had placed on Marinette’s shoulder, as well as the way he looked at her when she accidentally snorted mid-laugh. “Seems he’s okay with her, though.”
“Her?” Alya and Nino turned as well. “Oh, Marinette. Marinette’s different.” Alya said, swinging around to type on her phone. All the girls’ phones dinged, making them grin and glance towards the back of the class as well. They couldn’t wait to talk to Marinette after class to discuss this bit of progress… And apologize for how they overreacted earlier.
“Different how?” Lila huffed, crossing her arms in what she hoped would be read as confusion and not the growing rage she actually felt.
“Marinette doesn’t touch Adrien, Adrien touches Marinette.” Alya answered distractedly, texting the group chat about inviting Marinette out to a café later so they could gossip. “He’s the one setting the boundaries. Plus, she doesn’t clamber over him like his fan-girls.” Her nose scrunched up as she looked up from her phone. “Or Chloé.”
“I wasn’t clambering over him!” Lila objected, shoulders raising in anger. Alya flinched in surprise before narrowing her eyes slightly.
“I never said you were…” Her voice trailed off, one eyebrow lifted in suspicion.
“Oh!” Lila noticed her mistake and cowered back, raising her shoulders and fiddling with her fingers to appear contrite. “S-sorry, I just didn’t like the implication.”
“It’s fine…” Despite that, Alya’s tone remained unchanged.
Mme. Bustier walked in at that point and Lila was eternally grateful for the save. She did not like the shift in that conversation. Alya and Nino exchanged a look before getting their supplies out, deciding to talk about... Whatever that was... Later.
Adrien let out one last laugh, enraging Lila further. It was the first time someone other than Ladybug took something she wanted and she was not happy.
I won’t forget this, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
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joharvele · 7 months ago
dean prays to cas every day. 
on the good days, it’s just twice. once when he wakes up and once before he goes to bed. each time, he holds miracle close and tells cas that he’s doing all the things he’s supposed to do, all the things he promised he would do the first time he prayed to him. he’s waking up and he’s eating and he’s not drinking and he’s taking steps to get out of the full-time life. he tells cas about the network that sam and eileen are developing, about the research, about the way sam and eileen are edging toward being together. about the houses that dean has been looking at on real estate sites. about how he’d always wanted to be the cool uncle, anyway.
on the bad days, it’s every time he inhales. every time he closes his eyes and grips the table edge so hard his knuckles go white. he doesn’t say much those days, usually nothing more than cas. sometimes, he recounts that conversation from a decade ago, when cas was in the passenger seat of his car and dean was mourning another, very different loss. cas had said then that dean got everything he wanted - freedom over paradise. at that time, all dean had wanted was his brother back. now, he has free will and his brother and he hates himself but it isn’t enough. he says that, over and over, to cas. he asks why isn’t it enough. and those nights, after the bad days, he can’t even manage to pray cas’s name. just please, over and over. please.
on the very bad days, dean sneaks into one of the storage rooms and then sneaks back into his bedroom with a bottle of whiskey. he doesn’t do it often. he doesn’t have a problem. most days he’s fine. he can get up and do it all. but he can do those days because, every so often, he drinks himself into a stupor and curls up in his bed and lets the sobs wrack his body. miracle whimpers and whines and wriggles in close to him. she noses at his face and laps his cheeks and dean holds her a little too tight. those days, he rails in his prayers. he doesn’t pray cas’s name and he doesn’t beg, he demands. get back here. who the fuck do you think you are? saying that and then leaving... you always left. you didn’t even give me a chance to stop you. you fucking asshole. you bastard. you stupid son of a bitch. come back. come back right now. he prays that it isn’t fair and he prays that he hates cas and he prays that if he ever sees him again he’s going to kick his ass.
and then.
he wakes up the next morning. he throws up and drinks water. he brushes his teeth and showers and drinks more water. he puts on clean clothes and changes his sheets and feeds miracle and ignores the knowing looks from sam and eileen when he makes it out of his room. he drinks more water. and at night, he prays again. i’m sorry and i didn’t mean it. and just come back, please. please come back and let me tell this all to you in person. 
and always, whether it’s a good day or a bad day or a very bad day, he always ends his prayers the same way, as dutiful as catholic schoolchildren with their in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit, amen.
always, he sighs, focuses on the utter longing eating through his chest, and promises, i love you too, cas.
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mell-bell · a year ago
Fight so dirty (but your love so sweet)
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The Mandalorian x Reader
Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8
Words: 3571                         
Series Summary: You are sent to hunt down a Mandalorian, the odds aren’t exactly in your favor
Chapter: 1/8
Author’s notes: So I haven’t written in forever because LIFE but I love Mando over here soooooo I had to write something but also just finished this at 2 am so if there are spelling or grammar errors my apologies anyways I hope you enjoy!!!!
You had been hired to hunt down a Mandalorian.
When your Commander personally called to pull you out of the field and into Headquarters, you knew it must be for a covert mission.  
Typically, when you were given a new assignment, you would receive a short message on your comlink, which would send you on your way. But a face to face meeting, especially in your line of business, was almost unheard of.
So, without wasting a second, you packed up your encampment and slipped stealthily into the cargo-bay of the nearest ship bound closest to your Headquarters.
The ride itself was bumpy, and as your head slammed against the box you were hidden behind for the umpteenth time, you silently promised yourself to never leave your ship at Headquarters ever again.
A couple of hours later, you stumbled unsteadily out of the ship, not even trying to stay hidden from the crew whose ship you had stowed away on.
As you yawned, almost tripping down the ramp, you heard a shout behind you as one of the crew members caught sight of you. Turning, you threw him a wink and a salute before you took off into the crowd in front of you, vanishing among the vast volume of people.
With your signature red cape sweeping behind you, the citizens in the street immediately steered from your path, trying to keep out of your way and away from your famous temper.
Everybody who was anybody knew who you were and that you were not to be trifled with.
Your Commander and your troop had made somewhat of a name for yourselves on this planet. You served the highest buyers and did whatever needed to be done. Murder. Stealing. Assassinations. Bribing. Threatening. Bodyguarding. Sometimes even peacekeeping. It wasn’t always the best job, but it was a stable one, and it gave you more than enough money to survive comfortably.
You had only been working with your Commander for a few years but had quickly risen in the ranks when you earned her trust after saving her life. It wasn’t rare for a client to try and murder you, but trying to murder the Commander was a different story. But instead of succeeding, he found himself 10 feet underground. Thanks to you.
When you reached headquarters, you entered without knocking, slamming open the door to the Command Center.
Commander Trax leveled you with a glare when one of the rookies, startled from the door, spilled their drink all over her paperwork.
The young rookie went red in the face and took off out the door before you could even say a word.
“You could be nicer to them.”
Trax scoffed motioning for you to take a seat, “That’s how they’ll get killed.”
“I haven’t.”
She squinted her eyes at you, “I’m not nice to you.”
“Mhm, sure we both know you basically adopted me.” You snorted as you settled yourself in the chair across from her, swinging your legs up to rest on the table.
Trax pushed a folder toward you but you didn’t take it yet, instead deciding to relax for a moment leaning back against the chair with your eyes closed.
“I have a mission for you.”
A pause.
“What kind?” You responded.
“Search and recovery.”
Your eyes opened slightly, squinting at her, “Thing?”
You rolled your eyes, “Boring. I want something more exciting.”
“He’s a Mandalorian.”
You froze, your face blank as your searched Trax’s face for a lie, “You’re shitting me.”
Trax motioned to the folder in front of you, and you quickly slid your feet off the table before pulling the folder to you, flipping through the pages.
Your jaw dropped open, “This man is a legend, why do we need to find him?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
Your mind was racing and you whispered to yourself, “But who would want a Mandalorian?”
“The mission brief is in there. You find him, and you bring what is in his position. It is called the asset, another life form.”
You hummed thoughtfully to yourself as you continued flipping through the file, before you stood, “Sounds easy enough to me.”
As you made your way past Trax, she grabbed your arm and pulled you in close, whispering in your ear, “Be careful. We are messing with some really powerful people. If you don’t succeed, don’t come back.”
Your eyes flashed for a minute thinking she was trying to get rid of you, but you realized that she wasn’t saying this to scare you. She was trying to protect you.
If you failed, you would be killed.
You nodded solemnly, gripping the file tighter, before stalking out the door.
Your heart was pounding hard as you boarded your ship.
You had grown up with bounty hunters. Knew how to talk like one and work like one. A Mandalorian was different though. You know that it would be hard to find someone who knew how to stay hidden.
But you had a young and trusting face, and you could easily play the victim to find whoever you needed. Even him. All you needed was to make a fool of someone who had seen him.
After arriving on his last known location, and scouring the area for information about a man sporting a helmet and misplaced armor, you were able to scrounge up enough information to begin your search. It took you a few days but you were finally able to locate him. Some low-level dealer had easily been bribed with a few chips.
And that is how you found yourself camped out on the roof of his motel room. The hours passed and it grew colder, but you didn’t move. When it began to rain you groaned, silently cursing this stupid bounty hunter for not being back yet.
As it passed midnight, you began to nod off, but suddenly awoke when you finally heard footsteps and door slam below.
Sliding down the side of the building, you slipped into the room, your hand moving to your stun gun. But before you could even wrap your finger around it, you felt a blaster push into your back.
“Why are you here?”
You held up your hands, “Looking for a man in a helmet, have you seen him?”
The man behind you didn’t say a word, and you took that as an invitation to turn around.
Throwing him a wide smile, you looked him up and down, your eyes lingering on his body,  focusing on the weakest links in his armor and where it would hurt the most to hit him. With a wink, you turned on your heel and walked over to one of the beds, falling down to rest against the headboard, your legs stretched out.
“Hope you don’t mind, I am so tired. It’s been a long day looking for you.”
“Why?” His voice was gruff. You could tell by his stance that he was tired, and the weariness in his voice confirmed it.
You shrugged, “I have my orders. You have yours. Where’s your little buddy I’ve heard so much about.”
His fingers twitched and your eyes flicked down as you watched them hesitate around the trigger of his blaster.
“Get out.”
You tsked, leaning forward to fluff up the pillow behind you, “No can do buddy. Like I said I have orders. If I don’t bring you in, then I die.”
“Not my problem.” He holstered his weapon and moved to stand against the wall.
You sighed, pushing yourself to your feet. You shot forward, standing in front of him in seconds. Startled, the man reached for his blaster. But went he to aim it at you, his arm froze and he looked down at it confused, as he seemed to fight with it.
A sound echoed from the corner of the room and you looked around in confusion, catching sight of something behind the Mandalorian in front of you. Squinting, you stepped around the man, who made a move to try to stop you but growled when he couldn’t move more than an inch.
A floating orb sat in the corner, and as you grew closer you saw a creature inside. Reaching out toward his green hand, his eyes made contact with you as he made a cooing sound.
The man behind you grunted and you spun.
“This is it? The asset? It’s a child!” You whispered horrified.
“I know.”
You ran a hand over your face, waving wildly at the baby, “I can’t give a child to those people.”
“What people?”
“I don’t know!” Your voice was becoming louder, “But my Commander said they would kill me. They would most definitely have no qualms killing a child. You need to get out of here.”
“What about you?”
Your stomach dropped but waved it off with a gentle laugh, and an unsure smile, “I’ll be fine.”
He hesitated.
You stood there. Watching this man who seemed to be at war with himself. A few seconds later, he finally sighed.  
“...could use a crewmember.”
You answered before you could stop yourself, “Yes.”
The man nodded and sat on a bed. When you didn’t move, he motioned from you to the other bed across the room.
Cautiously, you walked past the man and settled down on the bed, fully dressed. With one last look at the helmeted man, who may or may not be sleeping, you closed your eyes.
But you didn’t sleep. Your hand remained wrapped around your blaster all night. And you’re sure his did too.  
Goddamn bleeding heart. Goddamn Mandalorian.
That goddamn man.
He barely spoke. Didn’t respond to any of your questions. Didn’t even stay in the same room as you for longer than a few minutes.
You were slowly losing your mind.
You would help around the ship. Fix things. Be back-up when he went into cities. Or babysit. But you needed connection. Real human connection. Just someone to talk to.
All you had was the child.
And while his cooing was cute. It wasn’t the type of conversation you craved.
It had been two weeks since you joined the Mandalorian and the little green child, who was apparently 50 years old. That was the only thing you had been able to get out to the helmeted man.  And you had tried everything to get closer to him. Or even just learn his name.
You thought you had a chance one night when the man in question came home with a deep cut. You had rushed over to help him, but he had yelled at you to stay away.
You ignored him for three days after that.
Not that he noticed.
However, when this trend of getting injured continued to be a frequent occurrence, you finally stood your ground.
After listening to him grunt in pain for the tenth time, you stalked into his room and stood in front of him. When he said nothing, you growled and pushed him down, “Let. Me. Do. My. Job.” You said through gritted teeth.
He did.
He trusted you more after that. Let you wrap up his wounds. Said ‘good morning’ to you. Even stayed in the room with you now, instead of hightailing it every time he saw you.  
And then, when you saved his life, he was indebted to you.
He had been mad at first because he had told you to remain put he went to grab things from the market. But you hadn’t. You had shouldered your bag, pulling on one of his dark capes from his closet, before taking off after him.
When you had finally caught up with him, you saw him about to be overrun. Without thinking, you opened fire dropping all three of the men within seconds.
Swinging around blaster raised, the man offered you a nod of thanks. More communication than you had had in weeks.
(And he even let you keep his cape.)
A week later and you couldn’t deal with the silence anymore. If you listened to the green child coo for one more second, you thought your head was going to explode. So you sat down across from the Mandalorian and held out your hand.
“I’m Y/N. I worked under Commander Trax before being basically kidnapped by you. I was to retrieve you for.... I’m not even sure who but I’m guessing it’s the people that hired you to find the green baby over there.”
The man looked out your outstretched hand.
He sighed (his favorite pastime) and you waited a moment, hoping he would respond.
And when he did your heart skipped a beat.
His gloved hand engulfed yours.
“Y/N. I know of you. Commander Trax is good people. My family has worked with her in the past. You’re a bounty hunter?”
“More or less.”
“That must be lonely.”
You froze, swallowing hard, “Well, I’m used to it. Especially after spending two weeks with a helmeted man who doesn’t talk.”
He was quiet for a few minutes before moving closer to you.
After a second, he began to speak, softly and slowly about how his family had died when he was younger. How the Mandalorians had taken him in as a foundling and made him who he was today. How he had a family and friends. But had lost too many good people when the Empire fell. After losing his own partner, he swore never to get close to anybody again. He dedicated his time and earnings to sponsor new foundlings.
As he continued speaking, you began to relax in his presence. Everything he spoke of was different than your life but it felt almost the same. You had both experienced your fair share of loss and pain. The way you distanced yourself from others to avoid making connections you would ultimately lose in the fight. Or the way that you followed orders because they had been drilled in your head at such a young age.
A few days later, you finally got up the nerve to ask him where you were headed.
“Need to know.” Was his response, but you could hear the smile on his face.
You were finally starting to be able to read this man. This man who seemingly showed no emotion. But he did. If you looked and listened close enough.
You smiled, “Could we at least spar or something to pass the time? I need to be prepared if something happens.”
“Nothing will happen.” But his voice wavered. He cleared his throat to play it off, but you caught it.
“Something always happens.”
His head turned to yours and though you couldn’t see his eyes you knew he understood.
You ducked as a fist came flying at your head, a smile growing on your face as you knew exactly what your opponent’s next move would be.
Or so you thought.
Your arm darted out, ready to slam into his stomach, but before you could make contact, your legs were swept out from beneath you, and you slammed to the ground.
You slammed your fists into the ground as the man above you chuckled.
“I told you. You won’t succeed”
You tried to push yourself up, but your arm screamed in pain and you crashed back to the ground with a yelp. Taking a deep breath, you blinked away the sparks of light dancing across your vision, letting out an exaggerated groan as a foot lightly kicked your side.
A hand came into view.
Taking it, he hauled you up onto your feet.  
“Enough.” He warned.
Flashes of light were still sparkling across your vision and your body felt as if you had fallen 10 stories, but out of habit, your leg slid back as you lifted your fists.
“Again.” You pleaded.
The man hesitated before his arms rose once more.
You rushed forward but realized too late that he was going to take you down. He swept your legs out again, but this time you took him down with you. You squealed as you realized you were going crash to the ground, the heavily armed man on top of you. But at the last second, the man twisted, taking the brunt of the fall as you fell on top of him.
The man beneath you snorted.
You pushed yourself up on his chest so you could see his masked face. You smiled at him widely. And then froze, as you watched his hand come up slowly before brushing a piece of hair out of your face. His gloved thumb brushed across your cheek and you leaned into his hand.
“I-“ But before you could, a cooing sound startled the both of you.
Your heads shot to the side, catching sight of your little green friend standing not five feet away from the two of you.
Stumbling to your feet, both of you refused to look at each other.
You cleared your throat before rushing over to the little green guy before picking him up, “What are you doing over here!” You exclaimed, before placing him back into his orb.  
“This isn’t over.” The Mandalorian said as he passed by you, a hint of a joke in his voice.  
You sighed in relief, teasingly flipping him off, before quickly rushing out of the room your face bright red.
Things had been going too well for too long. You still weren’t sure where you were going but that didn’t matter as long as you were still alive.
You and the Mandalorian talked more nowadays. You shared things with each other. Talked about stupid things. He was still a man of few words, but he seemed to care deeply. Especially for the little green child he had saved. And you as well it seemed.
After that one day after sparring, you had both been cautious about your touches. Neither of you were sure what it had meant.
But when his hand brushed against your back a few days later and you didn’t jump out of your skin, the light touches began. A shoulder touch. Brushing of hands. Once he had even brushed an eyelash off your cheek.
Everything was going well.
But good things didn’t last forever.
When you landed on a new planet. The Mandalorian had stated you were going to be there for a while. So you figured you might as well go to town to find some supplies.
A woman in the market had helped you pick out some clothing and personal items. Afterward, you had thanked her profusely and tipped her generously.
As you rounded the corner, whistling to yourself, you ran headfirst into a man in black. Offering your apologies, you tried to sidestep him only to be grabbed and shoved back into the wall. You began to fight back but just as you attacked, something hit you hard over the head and you blacked out.
When you woke, smoke was billowing from a fire in front of you.
You weren’t in the city anymore. The desert sand blew around you, no civilization to be seen for miles.
You tried to move, but your arms were tied behind your back. As you tried to shuffle yourself into a seated position, a foot came out of nowhere slamming into your side, causing pain to splinter through you.
Another foot came down, slamming your head into the ground, a rock tearing into your forehead.
“Who are you?” You croaked out.
The men above you didn’t answer except for another delivering kick. And then another. Your lungs were burning from the flames and you were certain they had broken a rib.
Someone spoke, their voice muffled. You strained to hear what they were saying, but all you could hear was the pounding in your head.
“---the bounty hunter.”
“What?” Your ears were still ringing.
“Give us the bounty hunter or you die.”
“If I die, you won’t find him.” You challenged.
“Then we’ll kill her.”
Your brows furrowed, until you looked around, catching sight of the woman from the market kneeling across the fire.
“No, I don’t know where he is,” your heart was pounding out of your chest, “I promise, just let her go, I don’t even know her.”
“Too late.” The man above you smiled, his golden teeth glittering from the blaze of the fire.
You pushed yourself to your feet and managed to get one of the men on the ground, but you just weren’t fast enough. Your legs were kicked out beneath you and you were pinned to the ground, forced to watch in horror as one the other men aimed his blaster at the woman.
You screamed. And he pulled the trigger.
You couldn’t pull your gaze from that woman. Someone you had spoken a few words to. Dead because of you.
The man from across the fire came around and began speaking to you. But when you didn’t look up he grabbed your chin forcing your eyes to meet his. As he began to repeat what he said, you spit in his face, barely flinching when he punched you across the face.
And this time as you laid silently on the ground, they left you there as tears burned in your throat.
You weren’t sure how long you remained there, the fire still burning hot across your face.
You welcomed the pain and prayed for the darkness to come.
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fineillsignup · 2 years ago
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I’ve gotten comments, asks, and messages on here and on AO3 from people who are reading Queen’s Choice(s) but haven’t played the source mobile otome game Mr Love: Queen’s Choice, and for these wonderful readers, I have taken the opportunity to do the fake PowerPoint cheat sheet meme that I have always wanted an excuse to do.
NB that not all of this is accurate to the actual canon of the game.
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killerrogerina · 2 years ago
My Short-tempered Cocky Rockstar
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Pairing: Ben Hardy x F!Reader
Words: 2,182.
Contains: Some fluff, A bit of roleplaying, Smut (18+) pure filth, Rough!Ben, swearing.
A/N: My first Ben fanfic and I haven’t written smut in ages so apologies if it seems bad or cringy, but I tried lol. Also, if you enjoyed this then send me an ask if you wanna see a gentle lover Ben or just pure fluffy cuddly Ben.
Requests are open!
Standing behind the camera crew, you watched your boyfriend banging on the drums with the rest of the cast playing their own part performing one of Queen’s songs. This was your first time on set and you were in awe at the sight before you. You hadn’t seen much of Ben ever since he started filming and decided to surprise him.
However, it seemed you were the surprised one. Seeing him in a 70′s era outfit with a blond wig to complete the look of the Roger Taylor made your heart flutter and your face flushed with a burning desire to jump his bones.
You watched and waited patiently till the director yelled cut before making your way towards Ben.
He hadn’t noticed your presence yet, so you crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. The blond jumped slightly at the contact and swiftly turned around to see it was you.
“Y/N?” He asked confused but also delighted. Placing his hands on your hips he pulled you closer and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. “Is it Thursday already? I thought we were going out for lunch then.”
“I’ve missed you.” Was all you said with a warm smile. His lips couldn’t help but mirror yours then he cupped your cheek lovingly.
“We may live together but I barely see you. We’ve both been busy lately and I took a day off work just to be here.”
“You didn’t have to, babe.” His smile grew into a grin. “But I’m glad you d-.”
You cut him off by dragging your hands from his shoulders to his open chest lightly tracing his abs. Seeing him shirtless in that white vest playing the drums on stage drove you wild earlier. Ben started to shiver then gently grabbed your hands stopping you.
“Y/N-” He said glancing around to see if anyone was looking.
“Hm, wish you wore like this more often and even grow out your hair.” You ignored him then leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “It’s been a month, Ben. I need you.”
You pulled away to see him gulp and blink once before shaking his head. “We’re on set!”
“You have a trailer.” You pointed out with a smirk. “Come on…unless you don’t want to?” You pulled away feeling rejected.
“No, babe. Fuck I want you just as much, but right now I have one more scene before lunch. Will you wait for me?” He looked into your eyes pleadingly with a hint of lust.
You nodded then kissed his cheek “I’ll stay behind and watch.” You made your way back as they announced for everyone to change and get ready for the next scene.
The actual reason for your visit was that you really missed him and wished to spend some time with him knowing that your lunch on Thursday would be very brief. However, now all you wanted was to let him have his way with you in his Roger outfit and hair.
You couldn’t help but get turned on while watching him play out the scene in which Roger gets pissed at Freddie for being late yet again and John manages to shut them up with the amazing riff and giving them the look. You wanted to see more of this side of Ben being rough and angry. You weren’t sure if he even had that side, he’d always been sweet and gentle to you even in bed.
The way he was playing the drums with a cigarette in his mouth was quite a sight to behold. It made you envious of that cancer stick that was resting between his soft plump lips.
As much as you were enjoying it, your patience was wearing thin as you felt that familiar heat growing in your core.
Hearing the word ‘Cut’, you let out a huge sigh and saw Ben approaching you with Joe tagging along with him.
You beamed and fell into Joe’s welcoming arms. “Y/N! So happy to see you. Wasn’t sure when you’d stop by for a visit. He’s been getting cranky.” He said pointing at Ben. Your man huffed and rolled his eyes in response while crossing his arms. “See?”
A chuckle escaped your lips as you moved closer to Ben and wrapped an arm around his waist giving his side a small squeeze.
“I’m not cranky!” He tried defending himself, his voice getting louder, but further proved his friend’s point. “Sorry.” He then added softly.
“You better fix him, Y/N. I want my old Ben back.” He said patting your shoulder before walking away. “Or we’re through, Ben!” Your eyes darted towards the man next to you with a mischievous grin. “So you got a boyfriend now? When were you going to tell me?”
“He wishes.” He muttered and made his way to his trailer dragging you along.
“You know you lo-“
“Can we not talk about Joe right now?” He snapped while opening the door to his trailer and waited for you to get in with a straight face.
“Alright, what is up with you today?” You asked a little bit irritated by his behavior and it turned you on at the same time. He’s never acted this way in front of you.
He pushed you against the door making you yelp then his lips met yours harshly. His body was fully pressed against yours and his tongue found its way into your mouth deepening the kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made you weak in the knees. And Ben knew that as his hands made its way to your hips then nudged your legs apart with his right knee to pin you against the door lifting you up slightly.
Out of breath, you pulled away placing your hands against his chest.
“I saw you.”
He pressed his knee even further making you moan at the much needed friction against your clothed core. “I saw the way you were looking at me when we were shooting earlier.” His blue orbs staring at you intensely and filled with lust. “Try to be less subtle next time, love. Pretty sure some people noticed it too.”
He leaned forward kissing your neck hungrily and once he reached your collarbone he began to suck and bite that sensitive spot. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment then you moaned his name. “B-Ben.”
“Hm what?”
“Call me Roger.”
Your eyebrows furrowed as your hands cupped his face before he could carry on where he left off.
“Why would I call you Roger?”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Ben, babe. Why would I want anyone else when I already have you?”
“Oh, I thought you wanted me to roleplay as Roger.”
“We can definitely roleplay, yes. But I want my short-tempered cocky rockstar Ben and not someone else.” You gazed into his eyes lovingly and hoped he understood what you meant by it. Coming up with sexual fantasies and roleplaying them as different personas was exciting for the both of you and it wasn’t something you haven’t done before, but you wanted him to still be Ben.
“God I love you.” He blurted out with a genuine smile. You didn’t know why you were being emotional. It hadn’t been the first time he ever uttered those three lovely words that made your heart race. However, he hadn’t said it in a long time and hearing it now melted your heart.
“I love you too.” You replied back and kissed him in a heated frenzy.
“So, I’m your groupie?” You giggled as he grabbed your thighs and carried you towards the couch and laying you down.
“Guess so.” He was about to unbutton his pants when you stopped him. “Let me.” You got up and removed his red jacket first, his shirt following close behind.
Your tongue darted out leaving wet kisses on his strong jawline then your lips attached to his earlobe. Biting it gently at first then nibbling on it sent shivers down his spine. He let out a shaky breath feeling your hands tracing his abs then lowering yourself to graze your teeth against his hardening nipples.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have much time to worship his body. Lunch break would be over soon and you didn’t want him to be late. You got on your knees unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his already hard member from his boxers.
He hissed at the sudden contact of your wet tongue on the tip of his cock and decided to take control of the situation. Pulling you closer by tangling his hand in your hair, you relaxed your throat as he slowly went deeper. “Fuck, Y/N.” He pulled back and repeated the same action making you gag. Usually, he would be concerned about hurting you and you noticed the worry in his beautiful eyes, but in order to keep up with the role he kept silent about it.
His head fell back at the sensation, biting his lower lip and tightening his grip on your hair and pulling it. “God your pretty mouth feels so good.” He kept thrusting into your mouth till he felt himself getting close. It was then that he pulled away breathing heavily and made you stand up.
Pressing his lips against yours, he tasted himself which fueled his lust even more. His hands in a rush, removed your top and unclasped your bra and your jeans soon followed. Not wasting anymore time, Ben scooped you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he laid you down on the couch and hovered over you.
He left a trail of wet kisses over your body sucking and biting harshly on the skin. They were definitely going to bruise, but you could care less about that. You were enjoying his rough handling more than you thought you would. His expert hands reached your core and he could already feel how turned on you were.
“You’re dripping, love.” He could feel the wetness seeping through your panties and onto his hand. Suddenly, he lowered his head and pulled your underwear aside then pushed his tongue inside your core without warning.
“Jesus, Ben!” Your breath hitched at the sensation.
He pulled away giving his member a few strokes before entering you fully. You breathed in not expecting to suddenly feel so full. A groan escaped his lips as he pulled out all the way before moving back into you and set a rough and fast pace.
“Y/N…Forgot how amazing you feel.” He was biting his lip trying not to moan too loudly. Anyone passing by the trailer could easily hear you.
Ben sat up, still inside you, and pulled you with him making you straddle his waist. “Ride me.” He ordered with a deep voice and gave your ass cheek a sudden smack then gripped both cheeks encouraging you to move on top of him.
You whined at the stinging feel on your cheek and started moving your hips against his. Seeing that you enjoyed it, he gave you a few more spanks making sure to leave red marks. This fueled you to go up and down faster on his hard member.
The blond leaned forward catching your lips in a heated kiss to silence both of your moans. He then lowered them to your collarbone and bit on the soft skin driving you mad.
“I’m so close.” You said in a shaky breath and your hand extended to your clit rubbing it roughly to reach your peak.
Ben noticed your movement and swatted your hand away and replaced it with his. He raised his blue orbs gazing at you then growled lowly “Look at me.”
You looked down, your eyes meeting his intense ones. That look alone was enough to make you orgasm.
“Cum for me.” Those three words were enough to make you reach your high. Your walls clenched his member tightly and you kissed him to muffle your sharp cry of his name then fell against his chest trying to catch your breath.
He started to thrust upwards quickening his pace as he was chasing his release. “Fuck.” He pulled out just in time and after a few strokes came over your stomach.
Your eyes fluttered open still in a daze. “That was incredible.”
Ben captured your lips giving you a passionate yet gentle kiss “Wish we had more time.” His hands still on your butt, he gave them a squeeze. “The things I wanted to do to you.”
“Try to come home early tonight then.” You winked at him before getting up to find a towel to wipe the mess.
He had already beaten you to it as he grabbed one neatly folded on his chair and stepped closer to clean your front. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.” His voice laced with concern. Ah, your Ben was back.
“No you didn’t and I rather enjoyed it…a lot.”
“Good.” He gave you that cute toothy grin before capturing your lips into yet another passionate kiss. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Ben.”
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deartholland · 2 years ago
starboy | tom holland
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pairing: tom holland x reader
word count: 3,813
summary: You never really liked Tom, but after a party, you two get into the intimacy and things get out of control.
chapter warnings: a lot of smut, angst, unprotected sex.
a/n: I’m the worst person to write a smut but I swear I’ve tried!
When you think teenagers couldn't be stupider, they just prove that you were wrong. For some reason a boy has thrown himself completely naked in the pool, being almost freezing outside. Luckily you don't feel the cold, because the human warmth that is inside the room makes you feel warm. You hold your beer bottle tight and frown when you see your best friend kiss the fifth party boy.
Ah, yes. Fraternity parties. They are always a disaster. Everyone always ends up drunk, vomiting on all the furniture and with the greatest hangover possible. You wanted to be home by updating your favorite series, but no, Lindsay, the girl who abandoned you in the first ten minutes, said you were going to have a good time, it was a party on the college campus and there would be few people.
How innocent you were. It was ridiculous.
A long breath came from your lips. Your eyes went down to the now warm liquid inside the bottle. After all, why were you holding a bottle of beer if you didn't even drink? There were so many things to be answered, the main thing was, what the hell am I doing here? When the most popular guy on campus decides to throw a party because he's just in the mood, things get out of hand. Lindsay was always saying how Tom Holland was the hottest kid on campus, but you just thought him arrogant. He was always pacing back and forth with that convinced smile of his, bragging about how many girls were wanting to be with him and stuff like that. That was one of the things you hated.
You looked at the screen of your phone and realized that it was about midnight. Your eyes automatically turned. You felt like an old woman trying to fit in. There were so many people clinging to every corner that it was a little difficult not to notice. So you decided that you needed to go to the bathroom and even though it was almost impossible to get past all the people, you went up the marble stairs and had to be careful not to step on a drunken girl sleeping on the floor.
"Jesus Christ." You held the wall and left the bottle anywhere on the floor, it would probably vanish in a few seconds. The fraternity was great, there were so many rooms that you would have to open door to door to guess where the bathroom was. The first was a completely dark room. In the second part there were two girls kissing on the bed, you promptly apologized and closed the door, heart racing. At the third door you got it right, but you had a surprise. "Oh my God, I'm sorry... I was looking for, um, the bathroom." You turned your face away from facing what was in front of you.
Tom was inside with a redheaded girl. She was on top of the sink without the top of her clothes and he was kissing her the moment you opened the door. The girl quickly dressed in the clothes looked completely annoyed to you. The boy just laughed and watched his last flirting go through the corridor with her messy hair and the strap of her blouse down.
You stepped back and put your arms back waiting for him to come out of the bathroom, but he didn't leave. Tom stood on the doorframe, analyzing you from above. A crooked smile came when he noticed the little navy blue dress you wore. He highlighted all of your curves, showing all of your towering beauty.
You raised your eyebrow and took a deep breath. "I just wanted to use the bathroom, sorry to interrupt." And just as you were about to turn down the stairs, he finally spoke.
"Too bad, it would be really fun if you joined us."
You stared wide-eyed with the audacity of the boy in front of you. "Excuse me?"
"Do I know you? I don't think so, but what's your name?"
You hesitated a little. Obviously you knew who he was, the most arrogant of all college, how not to know? And for some reason, whether it was alcohol or just the malicious side, he was flirting with you.
Tom could not let a girl like you pass before his eyes without even knowing the name. He hardly knew your name, but he was completely fascinated.
"Y/N you won't believe what... Hi Tom." Lindsay smiled a little drunk. He just waved at her and gave up because he already knew the name of the most beautiful girl at the eparty.
"Lind, is everything okay? You're completely drunk."
"I know, yes, I know. Sorry?"
"Let's go home. Now."
"No, Y/N, I'm having so much fun..." She pouted, looking over her long black lashes.
"Lindsay..." You took a deep breath, but then you felt Tom move.
"I think your friend is fine, she's having fun, just as you should be, too." Tom said smiling, it was another smirk, malicious, with pure malice.
"See, Y/N? I'll be downstairs, probably with Kyle... I guess."
You saw your friend disappear down the stairs and you ran your hand over your face, feeling some anger at Tom. He didn't have to get involved in anything, but he got in and now probably Lindsay would drink so much until she forgot her name.
"See you down there, Y/N?" Tom moistened his lips, staring deep into your eyes.
"Whatever." You finally entered the bathroom and closed the door. Meanwhile, Tom went downstairs and joined his friends.
You spent more time than you should in the bathroom. The music was extremely loud and you didn't want to have to deal with Tom again, but a girl hit so hard at the door that made you leave, as she was almost dying to pee. The smell of alcohol and nicotine invaded your senses and you were led up the stairs again. The party seemed to have gotten worse by a hundred percent. There was a girl with only panties on the table while other people drank something straight from her body. Some couples were almost naked in the corner of the house, others danced, talked, it was difficult to understand what was really happening.
As you walked through the crowd, your eyes fixed on him. Tom was across the room talking to some of his friends. For a moment you allowed yourself to think more calmly. Your eyes fell on his wavy brown hair, his well-designed jaw and nose aligned. He wore a red jacket that favored his body and skin, his jeans were a bit tight, but he still could look good. After all, you concluded that the comments about his beauty were true. Tom held the neck of his beer bottle as he gestured and laughed at the same time. The same redheaded girl now bit his ear and said something, but he didn't seem to care so much.
Until he saw you. That devilish grin grew on the boy's face and he made his way to you.
Tom walked over to the table behind you and pretended to get another empty bottle, but he had other intentions. He turned, his lips pressed to your ear. "Did I mention how fucking good you're in that tight little dress, love?" His voice was pure lust. You almost choked when you felt the hot breath on your skin.
"What do you want?" You tried to keep up, but it was almost impossible.
Tom touched your arms and gently touched the back of your neck, leaving your hair to one side. You felt the cold on his fingertips because of the beer glass. It was deliciously dangerous and made your body bristle. Seeing that you had dropped your head slightly, Tom smiled devilishly. "You won't regret it, darling. I assure you."
"What if I say no?" You took a deep breath, wishing he'd touch you again just for you to feel the electricity in your body. It was ridiculous, you didn't like Tom, he was the stereotype you hated most, a rich and spoiled boy who lavished his money and charm on the girls.
"It's your choice, love. I just want to make you feel good." He moved closer, leaning against your back.
You sighed, feeling your muscles tighten even more tightly. He knew what he was doing and knew all too well. You were vulnerable, excited with only half a dozen words and nothing would make you understand how he could do this to people. But the carnal instinct was much stronger than the mere consciousness of the human being.
"I hate you. Did you know that, Holland?" His name came out like a beautiful song from your lips. Tom closed his eyes for a few seconds and continued to smile. He pressed his lips to the lobe of your ear, nibbling at your skin and pulling her then. He was a good player.
"You hate me? Show me then how much you hate me."
A soft moan was ripped from your lips. There was no escape from that. You were basically given to him. And the worst part of it all was that you wanted to.
"Not here." You with all the strength you possessed, pulled away and found the way out. Tom waited for you to leave to leave the beer on the table and follow you to the university campus. You walked quietly to your apartment, followed a quarter meter back by Tom. The students' apartments were basically across the street, and Thomas thanked greatly for it, because he couldn't last another second without touching you.
The five minutes to your door were quiet. When you turned the knob and turned on the light, Tom stepped into the apartment and you began to wonder if you had done the right thing, but there was no time for doubt, after all Tom was pulling off his jacket, showing his black shirt that was glued to his arms. You sighed as he walked toward you.
"You look so good in this dress that I almost want to fuck you with it." Tom's words leaving you in shock, ecstatic, anxious. "But I think I'd prefer you without him."
Tom held both hands on your face and buried his lips in yours. It was a mild taste of alcohol and mint, something exotic, but completely sensual. His lips moved precisely over yours in a kiss wet and full of desire. Tom didn't have to ask where your room was, because when you realized it, you were already in it. He tightened his grip on your waist, making you gasp over his lips. You came closer, wanting a little more body contact with him. Tom grinned and bit your lower lip, letting a faint moan escape your lips. "Someone is needy."
You were a little exhausted that Tom was always saying everything, doing everything, so you decided to take some action that you hardly knew you had. You pulled away from him and pushed him to the edge of the bed. Tom sat down, laughing softly and biting his lips, looking forward to what was to come. You took off the high heel you were wearing and slowly lowered a strap of the dress. At that moment Tom hesitated and drew in as much breath as he could. His gaze was fierce, fulminating. On the edge of the bed you allowed him to touch your body. Then the other strip of the dress fell on your shoulders. Without breaking eye contact, you undid the zipper of the dress until it easily fell on the floor.
Tom's eyes widened. He was surprised. "Holy shit." He whispered audibly.
You were wearing just a black lace panties and nothing more. When he thought he might touch you once more, you climbed into bed and pushed his body against the mattress.
"Damn, princess... You're fucking perfect."
You smiled devilishly, just like him. Tom took the black shirt off and tossed it to the floor. He had a wonderful sight of your breasts almost on his face. You sat on Tom's abdomen and spread your hands across his chest, slowly running your fingernails around. Tom growled low and smoothed your thighs. His hand reached around your waist and you moved back and forth, feeling the touch of Tom's warm skin on your core that by now was already completely wet. Tom moaned, feeling the moist fabric of lace on his skin.
"Come here, princess. Let me make you feel good, huh? I want to hear you scream my name as you ride on my face." The words if Tom made such a big effect that you moaned weak. He held on both sides of your waist until you adjusted with legs next to his head. Without even caring, Tom made the lace panties just turn a torn rag. Slowly he lowered your body until his lips were completely connected to your intimacy. When you felt his hot, soft tongue on your clit, it was as if an electric current had hit your body. You put your hand on the wall in front of you and looked down, watching him move his lips and tongue deliciously over your pussy.
"Oh my..." You just couldn't say anything, just moan loudly, feeling your belly burn. "Tom." You closed your eyes tight.
Tom tightened his grip on your waist while his other hand caressed your breast abruptly. His tongue snaked deliciously over your folds. You tried to reach your clit just for more impact, but he forbade you to touch. Instead, he lowered his fingers to your clit, stimulating and making your body snake on his tongue. A trickle of sweat trickled down your temple. Your hands gripped Tom's messy hair and you opened your lips, feeling your climax arriving. It was just paradise. His tongue was fiercely perfect. He licked your entrance and stepped away for a second just to continue to stimulate your clit.
"Do you like it when I eat your pretty little cunt, princess?" Tom increased his movements, leaving you only weak and sensitive. "Tell me, huh? How do you feel?"
"Damn it, Tom. It's so good, so..."
"Has anyone eaten your pretty pussy like that? I bet it doesn't." Tom sucked your pussy again and you felt the first orgasm coming. It was strong, intense, devastating.
"Tom, I'm almost there... Oh God!"
"That's it, love. Come to me, eh?"
It was too much. The erotic words, the sensation of having him there in your most sensitive place was too much. You disintegrated right there, a wave of heat and pleasure reaching into your body at once that made your toes curl.
"Tom..." You were breathless, unable to reason right. But he hadn't even started with you yet. Thomas stood up just to remove his pants as you lay down, sweaty and tired of a powerful and strong orgasm. There was such a large bulky mark on Tom's underwear that it immediately made your body ache.
He lay on top of you and carefully kissed your wet lips. Tom jerked your legs almost involuntarily and thrust two fingers into your cunt. You widened your eyes and cringed beneath his body. Tom nodded, watching you scramble for air as him moved in and out his fingers on your wet pussy. "Yeah, use your words love, I want to hear you."
"You're killing me, Holland." You closed your eyes, saying huskily.
"That's the intention, love." He laughed and moved his fingers inside you slowly, as if he were torturing you. "Your pussy is so tight, damn it. I can't wait to be inside you." Tom rubbed his wet fingers on your clit and you moaned deliciously beneath him. He brought both his fingers up to your lips and slowly put into your mouth. You wrapped your tongue between his fingers. Tom admired you completely fascinated. He could just cum watching you lick and suck his fingers. And you did so well, like a real pro. "I'm still gonna fuck that pretty mouth of yours." He ran his thumb over your lips and kissed you again now that you had tasted your own taste.
"Ass up for me, princess." He simply commanded. You had lost all the determination of domination that was a few minutes ago, now all you wanted was for him to fuck you until you lost all sense. You turned around and stood with your face on the pillow while Tom stroked your ass. He smiled and slapped it hard, leaving the skin irritable.
"Damn it, Tom!"
"You're a good girl, right, Y/N? Of course it is." He removed his boxer and made soft strokes on his own cock before brushing the tip into your entrance. You gasped, feeling your pussy ache just from anxiety to have it inside you. As he slid inside you, Tom let out a brutal groan as you just moaned as much as you could. He paused for a moment, feeling the moisture and how tight you were for him. Tom gripped your waist and moved slightly. "Hmm, Y/N, you receive me so damn good. Look at how your cunt gets my cock so well, damn it... I'm gonna fuck you so fucking hard you'll never forget this."
"Please, just fuck me good..."
"Yes, princess, as you wish..." He groaned as he moved faster inside you.
Things were getting more and more intense, the whole building would be able to hear their groans with Tom's and the sound of your skins getting into friction. But it was a good sin, deliciously good. You rolled your eyes, feeling your whole body numb. Tom leaned over to say hot, erotic things in your ear, which was driving you into madness. He was so close, for some reason he didn't know why it wasn’t taking so long, it was something in you, like a drug that made him crazy and vulnerable, about to erupt.
"Damn, Y/N, I'm so close..."
"Fuck me like that, Tom, just keep baby... You're fucking me so good!"
Tom pulled at your hair and with his hand on your waist, he brought you close. Your sweaty back were now clinging to Tom's breast. He held your breasts while his other hand circled your clit deliciously. You tried to lean on anything: the bed, the wall, but nothing seemed to hold the overwhelming sensation that was taking over your body. Tom's cock had hit a spot right inside you and you were slowly clenching around him, making him insane.
"Tom, I-I'm going to cum..."
"Cum all over my cock, love, do that for me, huh?" He bit your ear lobe as he slammed into you harder.
Then again you undid, but this time inside Tom. Your body erupted. Tom held you tightly to his chest as your walls tightened around him. Tom groaned something, shouting your name. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
"Tom, baby, cum for me. I want to feel you, please!"
It was the last for him. He closed his eyes and somehow captured your lips in a completely sloppy kiss. You lay on the bed and Tom lay on top as you slowly strocked his cock, feeling his cum fall on your stomach. Tom was a mess just like you. Hair stuck to his forehead, sweat all over his body, and his breath failed. He propped himself up by the elbows and looked up at you. Your breasts rising and falling rapidly, your hair was glued to your forehead and shoulders, red lips and scrapes all over your body. You were a mess, but at the same time you had an innocent look and Tom didn't know how after seeing what you were capable of.
He lay down beside you and ran his hand across his forehead, pulling all his hair away. His muscles were more relaxed now. He looked at you and couldn't not smile. You had your hands on your face hiding all the mess he had done to you. He laughed and pulled your arm away. You closed your eyes and it was as if you were hiding.
"Are you really trying to hide from me after what just happened?"
"No...?" You peeked open one eye and then closed it again.
"Where do I get a towel?" He asked before getting up.
"In the bathroom, first door on your right."
Tom nodded and put on his underwear that was on the floor in the bedroom. You lifted up a bit to look at the mess you two made. Your head was aching like your whole body. Tom had taken a little rough, but in a totally good way. Some thoughts hovered around your head, like, how the hell did I end up fucking the guy I hate the most?
You barely knew how you were going to tell Lindsay, she'd probably freak out if she found out. But it was too late and you had already done it. And done well, after all.
Tom returned to the bedroom with a towel and sat down beside you on the bed. He touched the towel on you stomach and cleaned you up. You watched every detail of it. His hands, his dark chocolate eyes, his completed hair slipped back and how he managed to be charming without even straining. He smiled to see you watching him. You whispered a thank you and got up, looking for the black shirt he was wearing before. Tom leaned back against the headboard and watched you dress the shirt with a smile on his face.
When you finished, you put your hands on your waist and made a pose for him. "How do I look?" You mocked him.
"Fucking delicious, love." You rolled your eyes and came over, sitting on the bed.
"So what now? Are you going away and pretending that none of this happened?"
"Is that what you want?" He questioned, a little seriously. You stopped to think. That could be something else, but you knew him by reputation and knew how he was like girls and creating a false expectation wasn't something you wanted. "How about you think about that? But first I wanted to know if I could stick around tonight."
"Is that what you want?"
"Yes. I don't feel like going back to the party."
You were silent. He really wanted to stay. In the same bed. With you.
"It's alright. I think I'm going to need a shower now." You shrugged and stood up. Tom nodded, but said nothing. You turned around before entering the bathroom and made a thoughtful face. "Will you join me?"
"Oh, love. You're going to be the death of me..." Tom said as he stood up completely bewitched by your smile and your body.
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mell-bell · 3 months ago
They say we’re out of control (and some say we’re sinners)
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The Darkling (aka Aleksander) x Reader
Words: 3069
Series Summary: You and the Darkling were one and the same. Until the King betrayed you. When you’re finally reunited, what lengths will you and Aleksander go to make everybody pay for the pain you both suffered….
Chapter: 1/?
Author’s notes: Don’t even know what this is…I love Ben Barnes okay. I love villains I’m not even sorry. This will be dark. Reader will be dark as well. This will be a lot of revenge for the pain both the Darkling and the Reader went through. That being said….enjoy.
A loud bang echoed through the room, the abrupt sound ripping you from your sleep. Groaning, you rolled over burying your face into your pillow. It was still dark outside, too early for you to rise. If for some reason you had to be up early, someone usually had to physically drag you out of bed, that person often ended up with a fist-full of burning sun.
Another bang echoed through the room and you groaned again, squeezing your eyes shut hoping that you had a few more hours to sleep, “What time is it?”
Another bang.
“Genya?” You called, hoping she would stop the offending noise.
“It’s five in the morning.” A deep voice rumbled from behind you.
You shrieked, shoving away the unknown body, inadvertently tumbling off the bed in the process. As you struggled to free yourself from the tangle of blankets, you squinted through the dark room trying to piece together who was in your bed.
“Must I come get you or will you be able to make your way back into the bed?”
Your breath caught in your throat as you sat up and peered over the bed, “Aleksander?”
The Darkling was reclined against the pillows, a book in his hand.
“What are you doing in my bed?” You whispered.
Aleksander finally deigned to look at you, his brows lifting, “You’re in my bed, actually.”
“I….” You looked around. This wasn’t your room. And as your hands slid against the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, you realized that most definitely wasn’t your bed. You stood slowly, wrapping the blankets you had torn off the bed around your cold body.
You stood motionless for a second, you and Aleksander just staring at each other. The man himself somehow still look perfectly put together, no matter that he was dressed in sleep clothes. You glanced down at your own outfit, socked feet and a long man’s t-shirt.
Sighing, you walked back towards the bed and didn’t think twice before curling up into his side. As you relaxed against him, his arm raised to wrap around you automatically as he turned back to read his book.
You snuggled deeper into his warmth and closed your eyes, willing sleep to return. A moment passed. And then another. Aleksander cleared his throat and your eyes opened to lightly glare at him.
His fingers began to trail nonsense designs against your bare skin, “You’re staying? Do you not want to know how you got here?”
You shrugged, reaching out to grip his shirt as you closed your eyes once again.
There was a time, years ago, when you used to shy away from touches. But something had changed with Aleksander. One day, it had started with a touch on your back. An arm around your waist. A gentle hand brushing your hair back.
You didn’t realize it was strange until one of the Inferni mentioned it. Nobody touched the Darkling. Nobody even looked at him for fear of his wrath. But with you…he didn’t seem to mind your touch.
You had known him for so many years at this point, you had forgotten what it was like to live without him and truthfully you weren’t sure you would be able to.
And it was in this moment, lying next to him, that you realized the safest place in the world was in his arms.
“Tell me in the morning.” You murmured as you drifted back to sleep.
You felt his chest rumble as he laughed, “It is morning.”
“Shhhh,” You grumbled.
Aleksander quieted down and you quickly fell asleep against him.
Three years later:
The whip came down hard, slicing into your back. Biting down hard on your lip, you tried not to cry out, but as the whip hit you again and again, a scream ripped from your throat.
Your hands were locked tight above your head preventing you from summoning your sun to fight back. And even if they had been free you weren’t sure you would have the strength to fight back.
The deep rumble of the man’s voice behind you echoed through the room as he counted, the unknown language flying through your ears as if it were gibberish. You had tried counting as each strike passed, but as the pain spread, you had lost count. Hearing silence above you, you assumed it was finally over, but when you heard the unmistakable sound of his clothes rustle, you braced yourself as the whip hit you one last time.
The chains on your wrists were released and you collapsed to your knees. Bent over the filth ground, bits of metal biting into your knees through the thin fabric of your clothes. Your head was hanging low, hair hiding your face.
You had been sent on an easy recon mission. Aleksander had not wanted you to go but the King had insisted. Little did the two of you know it had been a trap. Some good will between the King and the Drüskelle. Giving the Fjerda the Darkling’s prized possession, in return for gods knows what.
When two boots stopped in front of you, your mind flashed back to the last time you were in this position, when you had looked up and met Aleksander’s eyes during your sparring match. But when you looked up this time, the man before you was a stranger. He motioned for you to stand.
Gritting your teeth, you braced your bloody hands on the ground and forced yourself to your feet, another soft whine escaping your mouth unconsciously. You swayed on your feet, feeling the blood dripping down your back. But you looked straight forward, your face blank; you knew what to expect next. You had been through this before.
The man who had been standing silently in the corner stepped out in front of you. He took a step forward, his boots clicking like daggers against the dirt floor. Reaching out grabbing your chin, his nails cut into your face as he forced you to meet his eyes. You had never understood what people meant when they said someone had dead eyes. But this man - sometimes you believed he wasn’t human.
“This is what happens when you disobey. I told you not to play with your power. This is what happens when you do. Do you understand?”
You stayed quiet, knowing if you opened your mouth you would attack him. But when his eyes narrowed and his grip on you tightened, you growled, “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. Let’s go, you have work to do.”
Fury built in your stomach, as you stumbled after the man down the cobblestone street. The people on the streets moving quickly out of your way.
Grisha were monsters here. Caged, put on trial, and then burned. However, you hadn’t been sent to your death. No, you had been sentenced to a fate worse than that. You had been sold multiple times, but your newest master had sworn that he would never let you go.
You were a slave. All to make a statement. That Grisha could be broken. That they could be beaten. That the Fjerda would eventually win this war against the “witches”. The whispers floated, if they could control the Darkling’s pet, they could defeat any Grisha.
Almost a year you had been here. Caged. Handcuffed. Beaten. Stabbed. Your freedom gone.
You had tried to escape. Multiple times. But then one of your master’s had let it slip. That you had branded a traitor among the Grisha. That if you ever escaped and went home, they would kill you on sight. At first you didn’t believe it…but then you realized, what would he gain from lying.
You had given up after that. Stopped calling upon your power. Shut your brain off and did whatever was asked of you. When you weren’t doing the dirty work for the man who had bought you, he took pleasure in using and abusing you. Breaking you in, as he put it.
The first time he had ordered you to kill, you had resisted. But when he had beat you to oblivion, you gave in. It was the first time you killed with a weapon other than your sun. You had stared in horror at the bloody sword in your shaking hand.
But although you physically gave up, you never truly stopped fighting back. It took everything within you not to lose your humanity. You were just worried for the day when he grew bored of you resisting and finally put you down.
It was times like this that you wondered where Aleksander was. If he was alright. You knew that you had been sold out by the King. But what of him? Was he alright? Did he know you were still alive? Was he fighting to find you?
Aleksander poured over the maps in front of him, his shadows stirring around him. A hand grabbed onto his shoulder and he turned, immediately sending out a wave of his power.
Zoya ducked out of the way.
Without so much of an apology, Aleksander turned back around and focused on the army formations in front of him.
“You need to do something other than-“
“Other than what?” He snarled and Zoya took an unsteady step back at the shadows swirling around him.
“It’s been a year. She is gone, you need to focus on stopping the Drüskelle and on tearing down the fold.”
His shadows expanded closer to her, and he could see the terror in her eyes.
It had been over a year since he had lost you. After you had vanished, he had gone after you. But it was like you had ceased to exist. He couldn’t track you or your power anywhere.
Everybody told him you were dead. And sometimes he wished he was as well.
“You’ll need to move on eventually.”
Aleksander blinked, his face blank, “I will move on, when she is back in my arms.” He droned on in monotone as if he had become so used to saying it, that it had just become second nature.
Zoya would never forget the day he had returned to the Little Palace. It was like the sun had vanished. The darkness that swirled expanding through all the halls, all the rooms, reaching out to people like death.
But although his shadows were strong, he was fragile. Zoya had never seen someone so broken. Someone so full of anger.
In his pain, he had struck out, attacking anyone that got in his way. He had stalked through the halls, bowling over people, shadows breaking objects left and right.
In the months following, he tried to play the perfect General. The King had threatened to stop the search parties looking for you, if he didn’t do his job.
So instead, he pretended. He played the role everybody expected of him. But in secret, he began to reach out to secret contacts. People that may be able to find you.
He hadn’t thought anyone was paying attention until Zoya warned him.
“They’re watching you. Show the King you’re his perfect General again.”
But he hadn’t been convincing enough.
A few months after the incident, he had been escorted to Grand Palace.
There is nothing more dangerous for a warrior than emotion.
Prove that you are worthy of your title.
They could try to make him forget about you. But each night he would do everything in his power to find you, and when he failed he would find you in his dreams. They couldn’t take that away from him.
It had been fourteen months since you had been taken. And you finally had a way to escape. A way to get away from the Fjerda and stay far away from the Grisha.
Because you were Grisha, it had been difficult making people trust you. But when you stumbled around beaten, bruised, barely able to walk, people began to sympathize with you.
You eventually managed to gather bits of information by trading your services. You didn’t have anything to bargain with except your mind and your skills. The villagers didn’t mind, because most everyone was poor and your skill set was looked upon favorably.
It was nearing dark and you had been leaning against the wall in the back alley for the past two hours. You knew that if your contact never showed up, you would be getting a beating tonight.
Mika jogged into view you sighed in relief, “Please, tell me you’ve found a way for me to escape.”
The woman before you smiled wide before nodding.
Loud bangs echoed from above and the buildings around you began to shake. You ducked down as pieces of stone began to rain down on your, “What the hell?”
Mika crouched down next to you, peering out and pointing toward something on the shore, “That’s what I was trying to beat. The Grisha, they’re here.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you watched the ships begin to appear from the fog in the harbor.
Mika’s brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?”
Debris fell around you as you dodged left and right, running in and out of innocent civilians trying to get out of range of the Grisha, who were descending in waves.
Flames flew past you and you dodged right, slamming hard into a crumbling building, your shoulder screaming at the pain. A fist flew toward your face and you ducked, swiping out your leg, taking down the Inferni. She slammed to the ground with a thud and as you tried to step over her, she grabbed onto your leg. You tripped, twisting around as she climbed onto you, slamming her fist into your face. Bucking your hips you threw her off, picking up a stray stone, you hit her hard over the head.
She went down with a thud. You took a deep breath as chaos rained down around you. The buildings were on the brink of collapse, the civilians screaming as the Grisha attacked.
You rounded the corner, skidding to a halt when you saw a lone Grisha, wearing a red kefta, standing amongst the rubble.
“Stop!” You screamed, your voice carrying over the screaming and chaos from the explosions around you. The Grisha’s back was to you. His whole body tensed as he froze. Your brows furrowed in confusion as the man didn’t turn. Your hands were shaking as you tried to summon your sun for the first time in months, the ball of light flickering uncertainty in your hands.
“Turn around.”
You began to creep cautiously around the debris on the ground, circling wide around the Grisha, trying hard to keep your attention solely on him, instead of all the innocent’s running by trying to flee from the fighting.
The Grisha hadn’t moved but you knew that he was trained to kill. He wouldn’t hesitate to put you down. But you wouldn’t hesitate to repay the favor.
However, you needed him alive. As you moved around toward the front of him, your heart was pounding. This could be somebody you knew.
And when you caught sight of his face, your heart dropped.
“Aleksander?” Your voice cracked.
It was as if your voice had brought him to life. He shot forward, pushing you back against a wall. His hand wrapped around your throat, his shadows raising up slowly up your body.
His eyes were blank. You had never seen him like this. And truthfully you weren’t sure you even knew him anymore. You had no idea what he had been through this past year. Neither of you were the same people you had once been.
“Aleksander, please.” You whispered.
“How dare you try to trick me.” His flat voice struck hard as if he had stabbed you straight through the stomach.
“You may have trouble killing me, I was trained by the greatest Grisha in history.” You managed to gasp out.
And it was as if a switch had been flipped.
“Shut up!” He screamed, his gaze focused at your chin as if he was unable to meet your eyes, but eyes had a rage in them that you were unfamiliar with, “How dare you use this face. How dare you.”
You could feel him shaking against you, and you reached up grabbing onto his arm, “Aleksander. It’s me.”
For a second, the man before you faltered but then he just shook his head, “No. She’s dead. And you’re going to be next.”
Aleksander took a step back, his hands raising, the shadows forming to strike. You watched as his hands shook, but his shadows remained steady.
You lifted your hands in surrender.
“Show me your true face.” He spat out.
But you just shrugged, “I can’t.”
“Do it!” He screamed, taking a step forward.
You cleared your throat, “Remember that day I woke up in your bed for the first time?”
“I fell off the bed. Still remember those bruises, by the way. But I climbed back into bed with you and something changed that day. But neither of us acted on it because we wanted to be the ‘perfect soldiers’. Everything was so much easier back then.” You let out a tiny laugh.
“Stop playing games.”
“Do you remember when we first met-“
His shadows shot forward and you swallowed hard.
“-it had to be…. god, years ago now. I was a new-faced Grisha ready to take on the world. And I walked into training only to see dozens of men and women terrified of you.”
“Enough.” His voice shook.
“About ten minutes into training, I walked right up to you and told you the first joke that popped into my head, which looking back at it now was completely shit-“
His arm dropped, the shadows around you vanishing.
You had only seen Aleksander cry once in your life. But as a tear rolled down his cheek, you shot forward and wrapped yourself around him, his arms not hesitating for a second before they wrapped around you, fingers digging into your wounds that still hurt from the whipping, but the pain told you that this was real. He was real.
You pulled back slightly and Aleksander reached out brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb lingering against your cheek and you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch for the first time in a year.
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joharvele · 4 months ago
Dean doesn’t fuck Donnie.
He warns himself, every time he slides into the bar You will not fuck him. Because Donnie is a nice guy and this is the only cool bar within range of the bunker. Dean doesn’t shit where he eats, he knows better (he’s learned better).
He does not fuck Donnie.
But that doesn’t mean he can’t look.
He watches as Donnie smiles for the regulars who sling in, bringing their dates or their husbands. He watches the strength in his hands when Donnie is wiping down the bar, pulling out a draft. He watches the way his shoulders tense long and tight across when it seems like a fight might be about to break out.
And he catches the way Donnie will take a second look at him. The way Donnie will meet his eyes from down the bar and offer him a smile.
Dean doesn’t fuck Donnie.
Some nights, though, he’s the only one around when Donnie is closing up so he’ll help. He’ll flip chairs onto tabletops and empty ashtrays. Sometimes, if it’s been a good day, Donnie will fumble with the speakers and put on some Mellencamp or Eagles or something. They’ll laugh and smile to each other and sway a little in their respective tasks. 
One time it was Denver’s Leavin’ on a Jet Plane and Donnie sang along, almost without realizing he was doing it. He got louder as they went through it all and by the end, Donnie was belting it out and Dean was singing along with him. It felt like childhood, or some childhood that Dean never had -- goofing off with friends and laughing at yourself without having to mean it. 
Donnie looked him right in the eyes when he sang kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you’ll wait for me but Dean broke the gaze quickly.
Because it would be easy, to fuck Donnie. To bow forward and kiss him sweet, to pin himself back against the bar and let broad shoulders hold him there. He could do it while Denver’s guitar strummed through the background, before the playlist flipped over to a Van Morrison joint, or something James Taylor. He knows, the way he always does, that Donnie would kiss him back, smiling into it. He can almost feel the shade of Donnie’s hands on his hips, sliding up under his tee shirt (he’d shucked the flannel off sometime in that evening), can see it happening, them sliding into the backroom and then up the stairs that lead to Donnie’s apartment above the bar.
One night, he almost does it. Plants his hands wide on the bar counter with Donnie directly across from him. They’re both grinning something sly and the Eagles are telling him to take it easy. Donnie keeps passing a rag under and over his hands, twisting it. Dean tells him goodnight and Donnie just hums out an “mhm” and Dean almost does it, just then. 
But he likes Donnie. He likes this bar and he likes the dynamic they have here, even if it’s tenuous enough to snap at a second’s notice. Dean likes what he’s got. He’s not about to risk that, risk it all, just for the chance of maybe something more.
He doesn’t fuck Donnie.
He goes back to the bunker, each night, and he trails the hallway to his room. Maybe, most nights, maybe he lays a hand on the jamb that would open into Cas’s room. Maybe he waits, just a second, and wills himself not to pray out loud. Maybe he counts out minutes and reasons and tells himself, you’re not gonna risk it, risk it all, just for the chance of maybe something more.
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crzangel · 2 years ago
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Part 1.
Deku’s texts got imported with his numbers too. Thanks to Explodo292 for giving me the idea with their comment xD
Read the fic this belongs to: Kiss Kiss You’re My Love
@staarcade hehehe
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8th Year, Draco is tentative friends with the trio, they study together. Draco and Harry are shagging in secret (everyone knows Draco is with someone, no one suspects Harry.)
Harry snagged some cauldron cakes and passed one to Draco.
“Fattening me up, Potter?” Draco asked, even as he bit into it. “I am capable of feeding myself.”
Harry snorted. “Wouldn’t know it from your skinny arse.”
“Look at my arse often, do you?” Draco smirked.
“It’s a fine arse,” Harry said, winking at him.
“Watch yourself!” Draco snapped playfully. “This arse is taken.”
“Quite often, I imagine,” Harry couldn’t help but reply.
Across the table, Hermione inhaled sharply, and Ron choked on his mouthful.
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mell-bell · a year ago
Fight so dirty (but your love so sweet) - Part II
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The Mandalorian x Reader
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8
Words: 4773                       
Series Summary: You are sent to hunt down a Mandalorian, the odds aren’t exactly in your favor
Chapter: 2/8
Author’s notes: I did NOT expect the love that I received from the first part of this so I just want to say thank you for all of your messages and responses you have made my week! Literally cried reading all of them. I wanted to have this up sooner but it became long as shiiiit so lots of editing and there may still be mistakes so apologies because it’s late and I’m tired haha. But worth it for you guys. Pretty sure I tagged everyone that asked, it not please just let me know! Anyways I hope you enjoy!!!!!!
You had prayed for darkness. But it didn’t come.
As you laid motionless on the ground, you knew the end was near. And there was nothing you could do about it. No one could save you now. Not even your Mandalorian.
You weren’t sure how long you had been there, but soon after the fire died out you felt your limp body being dragged against the ground, the rocks buried in the sand beating into you, birthing more bruises.
When the ground beneath you became smooth and solid, you knew you had made it back inside. And although it was a welcome relief to your body, you could only imagine what awaited you.
The men dragging you stopped abruptly, your body jerking in their hold, a groan escaping your throat.
Loud footsteps echoed across the empty walls in the hall, until two boots stopped in front of you. You swallowed hard before looking up and meeting an unknown man’s eyes. They were dark and sunken.
On either side of him stood Stormtroopers. It was then that you knew your initial suspicions had been correct. These were the men hunting down your Mandalorian and your little green friend. You could only hope that they were far away.
The older man stepped up to you and you flinched as his arm moved forward, his gloved hand slapping across your face. With a stinging cheek, you turned your gaze back toward him, meeting his eyes. His own widened minutely as if he was surprised you dared to look at him.
“Seems we have a fighter.”
He waved his arm, motioning for the troopers and men to follow as he turned on his heel.
The bare halls passed you by as you were dragged along, your gaze searching for any means of escape. But you found nothing. Just one door at the end of the hall that was quickly coming into view.
The door opened and a cold jolting gust of air settled deep into your bones as you descended the stairs.
When you reached the bottom, the contrast to the world above was disturbing. The cold stone walls seemed to be caving in toward you, the unlevel stone floor cracked, fresh blood still evident on the ground. You began to struggle against the men holding you, but their grips just tightened.
Rather unceremoniously, you were thrown into a cold and damp cell. You turned just quick enough to watch the door slam shut behind you.
And then you were alone.  
You pulled yourself across the filthy ground until you propped in a seated position against the wall.
Carefully you began to move your limbs one by one testing for broken bones or dislocations. When you thankfully found none you moved to push yourself to your feet when a twinge shot through your side and you fell with a yelp.
Tears streaked down your face as you clenched your hands tight, nails biting into your skin. You took a deep breath before pushing yourself up, your head rising, almost thinking for a second that a familiar gloved hand would be there to help you.
But it wasn’t.
You managed to make it to your feet, and as you swayed unsteadily, you took in your surroundings. Stumbling to the corner, you tried to dig at the walls in desperation, your hands turning bloody as fear settled into your bones. There was no way out of here.
With a scream of defeat, you fell to the ground in a slump.
A part of you waited for your Mandalorian to come bursting through the door. But logically you knew he wouldn’t come for you. Why would he? He had to protect the child.
You tried to rest. Tried to prepare for what was coming. You had been kidnapped before. Been tortured before. But not by members of the Empire. Commander Trax was right, you were as good as dead.
You closed your eyes but sleep wouldn’t come.
Haunting wails echoed through the stone walls and you wrapped your arms more securely around you trying to ward off the cold.
Hours passed by... And when they finally came for you, you were ready. You knocked three of them out before they were finally able to take you down.
And then you were taken to their leader.
This man. The Client as he called himself, was determined to make you talk.
He threatened. Had you beaten so frequently you were becoming numb to the pain. 
He had become so furious one day that he had a trooper stab you so deep in your side you had lost your breath. But even after that you still remained silent. He just sighed and had the troopers take you away.
It must’ve been at least a day later when you snapped and stabbed one of the troopers with a rock you had sharpened in the dead of night.
And from that moment on you, your arms and legs were shackled at all times.
He never let you have a moment of peace.
He would continue to call for you again and again. Threaten you. Beat you. Ask you the same questions over and over about the asset.
But all you did was lie on the ground, silently taking it.
It could’ve been days later when the door finally opened again. Expecting it to be the Stormtroopers again, you just laid there on the ground, defeated.
But when you felt someone pulling at your chains, you looked up. It was a different man. He was much younger than the man in charge, donning a white coat, and wearing some strange type of eyewear. You had seen him lurking in the back of the room while they interrogated you.
“Who are you?” You said squinting at him, trying to steady your blurry vision, your head throbbing from the bright light in the room.
The man was twitching, wringing his hands together as he threw rapid glances at the door to your cell, “Is the asset safe?”
Your head swam and you mumbled something incoherent.
The man reached out shaking you hard and you flinched at the pain it caused.
“Is it safe?” He said louder.
You nodded.
The man visibly relaxed and your brows furrowed.
“Why do you care?” You mumbled.
Startled, the man stood abruptly.
“No, wait!” You reached out toward him, falling from where you had been propped against the wall, “Where are you going?”
“Keep him safe.”
And then he was gone.
The next time you woke, you felt a familiar gloved hand brush across your face and you almost wept in relief.
It was him. He had found you.
Something soft and warm wrapped around you, and you pulled it closer, trying to breathe in the scent you had become so used to.
Through the dark, you tried to reach out to him.
Arms wrapped around you, carrying you down the hall. And as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you tried to catch sight of his helmet. Just to know for certain that he was actually there.
But then you were dropped to the ground.
Your eyes opened.
And the man before you sighed.
“I knew I should’ve just killed you.”
“So, why haven’t you.” You croaked. You had been certain he was real this time. That he had actually come for you. But he hadn’t. This reoccurring hallucination had been haunting you for a while now. Thinking you were saved when in reality you were still a prisoner.
The Client began to pace, but your eyes were drawn to the strange man in the white coat standing behind him, wringing his hands. You met his eyes for a minute, before he looked away, scurrying from the room.
“Because I’m curious.”
Your brows furrowed, turning your attention back towards the older man.
“About the Mandalorian.”
Your heart was pounding as you tried to furtively glance around the room. This was the first time he had mentioned the bounty hunter.
“Ah, so you do know him. He’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“That’s what I would like to know. You must have been to his hideout. His ship.” He questioned, stepping up close to you.
“No.” You lied.
The man huffed before reaching out threading his fingers through your hair, roughly pulling your head back.
“No more lies. You have wasted too many of my days.”
You spit in his face, but he didn’t even flinch. He pulled back slowly and wiped off his face with a handkerchief. Not pulling his gaze from you, he raised his hand and the door opened, a group of Stormtroopers storming into the room.
“You won’t find him.”
He let out a noise of realization, “You care for him.”
“No.” You swallowed hard, looking away from him.
He tsked, reaching out once more grabbing your chin and raising your gaze to his, “You do know that the Mandalorians are a complex people. He will never let you see his true face, his true self. Why protect him so?”
You bit your lip hard, remaining silent.
“We’re done for today.” He sighed in exasperation.
The Stormtroopers grabbed onto your arms, hoisting you up onto your feet. But as they went to turn you around, you ripped from their grasp and ran up to the man. You got within five feet of him before you felt a blaster aimed at your back.
The man in front of you seemed unconcerned as he looked down at you.
“You’re going to die.” You said.
His eyes flashed and a sinister smile crossed his face before he turned and swept out of the room.
You had only just been returned to your prison when the door to your cell slammed open, the Stormtrooper who had been guarding the door falling to the floor, blaster burns smoking from his chest.  
Your eyes were wide as you looked out the open door. Before you could even blink a heavily armored man flew past, his arms locked in combat with a Stormtrooper. And your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him.
For a moment, you allowed yourself to smile but then you froze unsure if this was another hallucination or if he was actually here.
You moved slowly, peeking out into the hall watching as he fought, shooting Stormtroopers left and right, knocking them down with his staff, and disintegrating them before they could fall to the ground.
You were in no shape to fight, but when you saw five troopers round the corner at his back, you swung into action, grabbing a blaster off the ground and shooting each of them point-blank.
The bounty hunter must have sensed your presence because when he finished off the last trooper in front of him, he turned slowly, his gaze landing on you.
And you could see the tension pour out of his shoulders.
This was real.
He was here.
You threw him a wicked smile.
Just as you took a step out of your cell toward him, you felt a blaster press against the back of your head. Raising your arms immediately, you dropped the gun in your hand onto the stone floor.
You both watched the Mandalorian shoot a twitching Stormtrooper on the ground before he turned his gaze to you and began walking slowly up to you.
He raised his blaster at the man behind you.
“Ah, my good friend. Come to return the asset? I’ll give you this one in return.” The Client said shoving you forward a little.
The Mandalorian stepped closer, his armor glinting under the harsh lights overhead.
“Though I wouldn’t trust this one.” He chuckled, one arm wrapping around you pulling you tighter toward him so that you covered the majority of his body.
You stiffened in his arms at that comment but refused to pull your gaze from the Mandalorian in front of you.
When he made a slight motion with his hand, you instantly knew what he planned and dropped to the ground while he shot at the man behind you.
Turning around, you prayed to see the man dead on the ground, but he was gone and before you could move to go after him, the Mandalorian threw you over his shoulder as he took off.
You bounced painfully against his armor as he sprinted to his ship. When he made it to the pit, he all but dropped you into the seat beside his before he took off fast as possible, setting course to his nearest safehouse.
You sank into the soft seat and breathed a sigh of relief. You were alive. And safe.  
A small green hand came into view as it reached out toward you and you smiled, reaching over toward him, the child cooing at you.
When you began to feel a tingle in your arm you looked down and watched as the wound begin to knit itself back together.
“What?” You whispered.
An arm pulled you back as the little green child fell back, falling into a deep sleep.
“He does that.” The Mandalorian’s voice was gruff as he pushed the child’s orb into a darker part of the ship.  
“I see. I-”
“Are you alright?” He cut you off.
You offered him a small smile, “I am now.”
You must’ve fallen asleep because a while later you were shaken awake. You raised your head off of the Mandalorian’s shoulder where it must’ve fallen.
Standing, your Mandalorian offered you his hand, but with a quick look at your bloody hands, you instead grabbed onto his forearms and pulled yourself up on to shaky legs.
“When did we land?”
“An hour ago.”
You tsked in annoyed, “You should have woken me up.”
“You need to rest.” He argued.
You rolled your eyes as you slowly followed him out the back of his ship, watching as he lowered the ramp.
But when it lowered you were met with a line of Stormtroopers.
The Mandalorian shoved you back, raising the ramp back up, the sounds of blaster shots hitting outside echoing through the ship.
“How did they find us?” You gasped.
“It was you.”
“What?” Your heart was beating painfully as he turned toward you.
“You. You led them here. They couldn’t have known where I was going.”
“No, I....” Your hand involuntarily reached down to the cut on your side.
Stepping forward, his gloved hand ripped your shirt up, showing the small incision almost invisible above where you had been stabbed.
“A tracker.”
You took a step back and when you looked back up his blaster was aimed at you.
It was if your voice had brought him to life, because he shot forward, pushing you back against the wall. His hand wrapped around your throat, his blaster resting against your side.
You had never been scared of him. Never had a reason to be. But standing there as his supposed enemy, you were terrified.  
“I didn’t know. You have to believe me. What would I gain out of being a spy?” You pleaded.
“You’re a bounty hunter, you work for money. We all do.” His flat voice struck hard as if he had stabbed you straight through the heart.  “You’ve been working for them since the beginning. The Empire.”
You could feel him shaking against you, and you reached up grabbing onto his arm wishing he wasn’t wearing that god-forsaken helmet so you could see his eyes.
“Please, you know me.”
He looked at your hand and for a second you thought he believed you.
But he just shook his head.
You growled, “You were the one who invited me along! I was more than fine being left behind but you ‘needed a crew member’ don’t put this on me.” You shoved at his armor, but he didn’t move an inch. 
You took a step toward him, he took one back.
“Tell me the truth.” His voice was low, but you could hear the slight waver.
But you just shrugged tired, “I did.”
He holstered his blaster.
“What did I do to lose your trust? Not turn you in when I found you? Save you from getting shot all those weeks ago? Help clean you up after all your fights. All those talks we had. Do you really think I faked all of that?” Your voice cracking.
When he didn’t reply, you continued motioning to your body, “Did I beat myself up for fun? Broken ribs, a black eye? Do you think I stabbed myself just to keep my cover so I could turn you in?” 
His hands tightened into fists and you took another hesitant step forward.
But before you could speak, the ramp to his ship burst open and Stormtroopers began to pour in.
You flinched as the crate next to you shattered into a million pieces.
The man before you had turned away from you, running down the ramp throwing a glance back at you and his ship before diving into the fight.
You followed, jumping on a Stormtrooper, taking him to the ground before rolling off him and grabbing his weapon. You shot him before turning blasting another trooper who had just rounded the corner.
“Give me my blaster!” You yelled at him.
Everything was exploding around you but the two of you just stared at each other, the sounds fading away. As he reached down toward the blaster he had shoved in his holster, the world blew up around you. Your body flying back to slam into the wall behind you.
You blinked your eyes wildly trying to get them to focus through the dust. Your eyes were burning and you frantically rubbed your hand across your face, wincing as the dirt from your hands fell into your eyes.
Pulling at your shirt, you scrubbed it aggressively across your face until you were about to make out your surroundings.
Everything was destroyed.
Rubble was falling from buildings and smoke was rising from fires that littered the ground. The combination of dust and smoke made it hard to breathe and you couldn’t see far in front of you. As you tried to call out you choked on the dust and coughed.
You rolled over on your side trying to pull yourself up onto your feet when you caught sight of the Mandalorian lying a few feet from you. Finally stumbling to your feet, you took off towards him. You tripped over some debris, falling to your hands and knees and all but crawled over to his motionless body.
Your hands fluttered over him, hesitant to touch him.
Was he breathing?
As more Stormtroopers exited the building before you, you hauled him up and began to drag him back up the ramp to his ship. A blaster shot landed right by your head and you dropped to the ground, pulling the blaster out of the unconscious Mandalorian’s holster before taking down the offending trooper.
You kneeled over the man beneath you, shooting Stormtroopers left and right. When you finally felt him stir beneath you, you pressed his blaster into his hand before giving him a slight smile.
“I hope you won’t forget me.”
You took a step back and as he reached for you, you threw yourself from the ship, taking the hail of bullets from the Stormtroopers.
You turned, “Go!” You screamed.
And he did.
He had left.
And you were alone.
A loud explosion sounded nearby and you dove for cover, your heart racing. You reached for your blaster, finding your holster empty. He had taken your weapon....when he thought you had betrayed him.
You couldn’t blame him. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.
Another explosion sounded and you threw yourself to the ground once more, covering your head as stones rained down around you.
Using your shaking hands, you quickly shoved yourself up and stumbled to your feet, your legs weak from being shackled for so long. You clambered through the rubble, the stones cutting into your already battered hands as you tried to steady yourself. As you slipped into the building the Stormtroopers had been pouring out of, all you found was chaos.
The Stormtroopers had already torn this place apart.
And it was all your fault. You had led them here.
As you ran down the hall, you stopped picking up what looked like a metal bar, which you hoped would pass as a makeshift weapon.
Room after room was empty and you began to give out hope that the Client was still here.
As you continued running, you passed dead bodies, mutilated bodies, people crying, people fighting. The citizens were fighting back against the Stormtroopers and it looked as if they were winning. All you wanted was to stop and help them but you needed to take care of the Client first. With him dead, this whole thing would finally be over.  
When you finally reached the last room, you paused, clutching the bar tighter in your hand before pushing open the door.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
You twisted the bar in your hands and took a step forward. You could see the fear in his eyes.
“Let’s make a deal.”
You shook your head as you grew closer to him, “There’s no deal I would ever want to make with you. You tried to kidnap a child. An innocent child.”
“For the greater good.” He stood up, his eyes mad.
“If this is your greater good I want no part of it.”
“With that creature, we can do such great things. Bring back the peace to this universe that we had under the Empire.” He implored.
“I won’t let that happen.”
“You can’t stop me.” He said, but you could hear the fear in his voice.
“You’re wrong about that.” You smirked, raising the metal bar out like a sword.
The man reached down grabbing a blaster from a fallen Stormtrooper and brought it up aiming at you. He shot at you wildly, the shot going wide hitting a beam in the ceiling. You circled around him and he quickly moved trying to follow you, still shooting erratically, the shots splintering into the walls around you.
A loud cracking sound sounded through the room and you looked up watching a wide crack form in the foundation of the ceiling. As pieces of stone began to fall, you shot forward, grabbing the Client’s wrist twisting it around. You pulled the blaster from his grasp before slamming the bar of metal in your hand straight up through his stomach.
He collapsed to the ground.
And the last thing you saw was your Mandalorian standing in the doorway, right before the ceiling caved in on you.
An alarm echoed loudly, the abrupt sound ripping you from unconsciousness.
A coolness spread across your brow and you squinted your eyes as they strained against the bright light in the room.
“Sorry.” A soft voice mumbled above you, turning off the offending noise and dimming down the lights.
“Where am I? What time is it?” You mumbled, pushing the hand away from your face as you tried to push yourself up.
“It’s five in the morning.” The deep voice rumbled before you, gently pushing you back down onto the bed.
Your eyes focused. It was him. He had come back for you.
“Am I in your bed?”
“This isn’t exactly how I imagined it would happen.”
You heard him snort, and you chuckled lightly, pain shooting through you. He froze, his hands hovering above you, as you caught your breath. Once you settled down, he continued gently cleaning the blood and soot off your face.
He worked in silence.
You wanted so badly to ask him what had changed his mind. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
When he was finally finished he stood to leave, but you grabbed his arm before he could move out of reach.
“I.... would you stay?”
You wanted to tell him that you didn’t blame him. How his training had kicked in. How if you had been given time to talk to him he would’ve seen reason.
He stood motionless for a second, you and him just staring at each other. You were sure you looked worse, but the man himself looked exhausted even through all the layers of his armor.  
He gave a barely perceptible nod and for a second you thought you had imagined it. But then he moved. And settled into the chair beside the bed.
You turned on your side facing him.
You weren’t sure if his eyes were open or not, but you stared steadily at his helmeted face.
Reaching out, you touched his hand that rested on the bed and when he didn’t move it away you threaded your fingers through his and closed your eyes.
Even after everything, you realized the place you felt safest in the whole world was next to him.
“We’re going to talk in the morning.” You murmured.
“It is morning.”
You grumbled quietly before falling asleep, missing the soft caress of his hand over your hair and the quiet, “I’m sorry” that fell from his lips.
It was a week later.
You were healing slowly but steadily. The worst of the pain coming from your cracked ribs and battered hands. You tried to move around more, but your masked savior had all but forbidden you from leaving the bed for more than a few minutes.
And you were going stir crazy.
He wouldn’t talk to you and he wouldn’t even allow you to see the little green child, because he kept trying to overexert himself and heal you.
However, one morning, he went into town to grab some supplies. And not five minutes after he left, you snuck out of the ship into the forest where he had landed.
It was peaceful. Far from any civilization.
Wrapping a stolen cape around your stiff body, you made your way over to the brook, sitting on a rock by the water’s edge.
Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath, enjoying the cool air and calming sound of running water.
That’s how he found you a few hours later.
You were surprised when he settled down onto the rocks next to you, instead of reprimanding you.
You ignored him, continuing to play with the tiny child who had joined you outside about an hour before. You threw a pebble into the air smiling softly when he froze it in the air and then shot it across the brook.
When he caught sight of the Mandalorian, his soft coos toward the man who had saved him made you laugh.
After a moment, you broke the silence.
“That man.... was powerful.” You paused, “How did you get away with the child in the first place?”
“I gave it to him.”
Your head snapped to look at him, “You?...”
“And then I went back and killed everyone I could.”
“Good. They deserved it.” You looked down at your hands, still wrapped tightly with bandages, the seemingly never-ending shaking that hadn’t gone away since you had gotten back.
The man reached out, grabbing one of your shaking hands and placing it between his own.
You hummed quietly, as he sat there silently. Out of nowhere, he whispered, “I almost killed you.”
You froze. Neither of you had so much as mentioned it.
But you knew he felt guilty about it. A few days ago, you had gone to hand him his morning drink like normal, but when he had reached for it you had flinched away from him. He had immediately stood and left the room. And you didn’t see him for two days after that.  
You weren’t sure if it was for your benefit or if it was his own guilt. Either way, it had been a tense week for the both of you.
“But you didn’t.” You stated.
“But I could have. I would have.” He whispered. The tremor in his voice made your heart clench.
Turning toward him, you hesitated before you reached out, placing your hands on either side of his helmet. You leaned forward, your forehead meeting the cold of his beskar helmet.
“You wouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” You said.
He turned away, pulling away from you, your hands dropping in defeat.
You shivered, and he reached over pulling the cape that had fallen to the ground around your shoulders.
“What do you think they want with it?” Both of you looked at the little green creature playing in the brook, chasing after a toad jumping on the rocks.
“I don’t know.”
“What do we do now?”
“Fight back.”
Tagged: @sargesbestgirl @abysswhiskey11  @yourfavoritearchangel @pedro-pascal-online @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8 @damnittjim @trickei @countessren @fun-sized-widow-bites @thefandomzoneisdangerous @ichigomiluku @bakerstreethound @clonesdeservelovetoo @bananyaaa @loveleah @javert-delacour @zoogrl05 @live-the-beautiful-game @maryan028 @ignimbritetcax @kaidad @kaimoar @yana-versio @peitromoximaff @alittleraincloud @fuckhead-writer @dottie-witch @nowheredreamer @pandalandalopalis @loveharrington @sw0rd-girlfriend @lex0h @piquantbarnes @go-commander-kim @finefangirl​
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yesokayiknow · 2 years ago
just thinkin about donna accepting ten’s first offer and
she makes him take her to a hospital first because shut up okay she wants to get vaccinated against various stuff first because who knows what kind of germs they have in space spaceman????
just her luck that the hospital they go to gets taken to the moon
it’s kind of a thing he does, ten says, not looking at donna, that when someone saves the world like martha did then he kind of?? offers them a trip?? maybe??? and donna’s like oh thank god it would be so much easier with another human don’t look at me like that martian i already love you but like. have you seen yourself
they pick up martha and it’s meant to be just one trip okay just one because he’s already got a new companion he doesn’t need another one
it’s more than one trip
donna yells at him every time he’s awful to martha because she’s spent so much time being treated as second best that she can’t stand for it to happen to someone else and martha’s never had anyone fight for her like this and it slowly builds up her own self esteem while also knocking ten’s ego down a few notches
one day donna yells very, very loudly at him and he’s like but i don’t mean to be like this i just really miss rose and she’s like i’m sorry but that’s not martha’s fault!! and ten apologises and takes martha to meet hippocrates and then florence nightingale because he’s better at actions than words
i mean he’s still a bit of a dick but like. less so now
martha and ten geek out over biology together which sometimes makes donna feel less intelligent but they also have ‘let’s see who can validate donna more’ competitions because they love her so much and they want her to see it too
they have to hold each other back from yelling at donna’s mum because they know it could cause more problems for her in the long run so instead they just make Very Pointed Comments and glare a lot
donna mercilessly teases martha over her crush on ten because like really?? him??? he’s so skinny what even is there to crush on
meanwhile ten teases martha over her crush on donna because martha jones is a helpless bisexual who falls in love at first glance and like have you seen donna noble
unfortunately ten and donna both have so much self loathing that they can’t imagine anyone would ever like them in that way
martha spends a lot of time sighing in her room while the tardis laughs in her head
donna and ten have this instant connection that martha’s sometimes a little jealous of because sometimes she feels like she’s thirdwheeling them but they just love each other so much that it’s hard to feel resentful
plus donna yells at ten if it looks like he’s leaving martha out
ten gets frustrated a Lot because martha and donna have all these human injokes and shared qualities and things he doesn’t understand and he’s constantly worried that he’s too alien for them and that they’re gonna leave him
this is obviously nonsense
the most scared martha ever is is when she’s alone in the shuttle on midnight as the doctor gets trapped by something in his own body and there’s no way to contact donna and what if he dies while she stands by doing nothing and
they don’t split up on adventures for a long while after that
ten: okay long story but we need to pretend to be normal humans for a while so i’m gonna hide us in 1913 donna, who knows that martha probably won’t argue about that even though she’d be subjected to some really awful abuse in that time: Think Again ten: .......2020?? donna: better
wilf adopts ten obviously but he also adopts martha. oh she already has a family?? tough. they don’t appreciate her so He Will. martha gets into the habit of picking up souvenirs for wilf on their travels along with the other two and he’s so ridiculously pleased by everything they get him
every now and again ten and donna end up having their own mini trips while martha’s taking exams because yes she knows it’s a time machine but like she won’t remember all this info forever okay?? they always go out to parties when they pick her back up to celebrate except ten and donna spend most of the party telling martha in extreme detail what they did so she doesn’t feel left out
jack and donna get on like a house on fire. ten is very jealous while martha rolls her eyes a lot
she tries to tease donna about her crush on jack and donna’s like excuse me you also have a crush on jack and so does the doctor and so does everyone who likes men and like. true
martha doesn’t have to walk the world alone because she has donna noble who is so full of life and anger and love and they keep each other alive over the long months and everything is so dark but donna glows and
she dies
she dies and martha is alone and all she has is the promise of the doctor’s story and she’s so tired and she just hides away for a few weeks and stops
and then she keeps going
ten knows as soon as he sees martha standing alone on the valiant and he knows what will happen when the year reverses and he could never do anything permenant to the master but he. for a moment he
a gun near him and the master’s the reason donna died and he almost
he doesn’t. but it’s very close
the year reverses and donna’s alive but she doesn’t remember what happened and martha’s still alone and she just. she just can’t. holding a year that never happened hurts and donna doesn’t understand and she looks at martha like there’s something fragile about her and maybe there is but she doesn’t want that and donna’s face is clear of pain but it was slack it was empty she was dead and
she gives donna her phone. hugs her hard and tells her to expect a call sometime soon
she does the same to ten and then steps back to cup his face in her hand while they just look at each other. for the first time, they’re on the same page while donna watches them both, confused
don’t ever let her go through something like that, she says, without words
i won’t, he promises
and then she leaves. she has a family to look after and an equally traumatised immortal to find. maybe she’ll be fine. maybe
well, ten says, as he pilots them into the vortex, now what shall we-
and then the titanic crashes into the tardis
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elfpen · 2 years ago
Good Shot
A/N: I’m procrastinating, have a thing.
Edward Elric did not consider himself a traumatized person, and he did not think of his childhood as particularly traumatic. Despite this determination, the trauma of his youth was both objectively true and patently obvious to anyone with a brain. Edward’s brain no longer noticed. The tumultuous Amestris of yesteryear was, for better or for worse, the world that had raised him. That fact was as comfortable around his memories as an old, worn coat, a coat that needed a wash and a patch and was two sizes too small, but was too familiar to go about replacing. In short, he was used to it.
Maybe that was why, when he arrived at work one blustery afternoon to find his place of business swarming with a fully armed battalion, Edward Elric only yawned.
“Aw, hell,” he said to no one in particular. Final grades were due in seventy-two hours and he hadn’t even gotten started yet. Ahead of him, the Alchemy Building of Central University loomed large against a snow-heavy sky. All around the front steps, a throng of people gathered, held at bay by a line of blue-uniformed soldiers. Was a it a fire? A flood? Both meant water, and water meant smudged ink and desecrated paper, and that meant his final grades wouldn’t be in on time.
But why the military? Slowly, like a rising wail, bomb sirens filled the air.
“Damnit.” His icy sigh hung in the air and whirled apart was he stepped through it to march into the crowd.
“This is outrageous! The whole building?” Edward couldn’t see the man’s face, but judging from the prodigious height of his white quaffed hair, he was willing to bet it was the Dean.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step back, we need to keep everyone at a safe distance,” replied an anxious-looking warrant officer.
“On what grounds? What is this all about?”
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to-”
“I will have you know that I run this college, young man, I demand to know why you’ve commandeered my-”
“Excuse me, Professor Elric?” Ed turned to see a half dozen of his students huddled in coats and mittens, craning their necks like geese to get a better view of the front steps. One called Mary was asking him. “Do you know what’s going on?”
Ed glanced back at the Warrant Officer and the Dean. Their tiff seemed to have drawn attention from a nearby lieutenant, who was making her way over to intervene.
“No, but whatever it is I hope it wraps up quick, I have work to do.”
“I’ll say,” one of the students, Josef, laughed and blew into his mittens for warmth. “Do you think Dr. Wolfgar will fail me if I miss my final because of a military occupation?”
“Military occupation?” Teased the slightly older Henrietta, “What, do you think this is some kind of coup d’etat?”
“Oh please,” Edward found himself saying. “Last time we had a coup, Central Command was nearly erased from the map; this is just a university building. If they’re trying to do anything big, they should blow something up first.” He thought he’d been being funny, but amid the sirens, his students had fallen uncomfortably quiet. Edward sighed, annoyed by the reminder that even for college students, his humor was dark. “Whatever,” He said. “I don’t have time for this.” He elbowed his way through the crowd.
“Dr. Elric? What are you going to do?” Josef asked. He glanced at his classmates, and then followed after their professor. The others fell into step behind him, so that unbeknownst to him, Edward had a trail of six college students following him like a mother duck.
“Lieutenant,” he spoke above the chatter of the crowd. “Excuse me, lieutenant,” he waved. The lieutenant looked wearily in his direction and marched over with practiced indifference.
“Yes sir?”
“I’m going inside,” he stepped to the front of the crowd. She reached out a hand to stop him.
“Sir, for your safety, I cannot allow you to go any further, we need to-”
“I said I’m going inside,” Edward repeated, digging around in his pocket until he could find his silver watch. He held it out. Scratched and worn, the dragon sparkled in the overcast sunlight.
“-ssor Elric is a state alchemist?!” he heard Mary say.
After a brief hesitation, the lieutenant’s demeanor transformed. She stood to attention and saluted.
“Now tell me what’s going on.” He stepped further up the stairs without her stopping him.
“Sir,” she turned toward him, away from the civilians, and spoke quietly: “Central Command intercepted multiple threats against this campus early in the AM. Three separate witnesses reported seeing at least one suspicious person enter the building through a window. We’re not sure who they are, what weapons they have with them, or what their intent is. Our General has advised severe caution.”
“And who is your general? Is it Mustang?” Edward asked, purely out of curiosity.
“Major General Mustang, yes sir.”
“Oh is that what they’re calling him these days,” Ed grumbled over his shoulder. “Alright, well, anything happens, we’ll just blame him.” The lieutenant seemed unsure how to take this. “Thanks. And sorry about the Dean - he can be a bit of a dick, though you didn’t hear that from me.” He began up the steps.
“You’re the Fullmetal Alchemist, aren’t you, sir?” She asked.
“What about it?”
After a moment of thought, the lieutenant unholstered one of her two pistols. “Sir,” she offered it or him. “Just in case.”
Edward looked at it, and at her, and shrugged. “Fine,” he took it.
“Hey, we’re with him,” Josef was arguing with the warrant officer, trying to following Edward up the steps.
“No they’re not,” Edward turned and fixed them with the same look he used on his children. He pointed with the hand that wasn’t holding a gun. “You stay right there, all of you. Do what the lieutenant says.” All of the students’ eyes followed his hand as he shoved the gun into his coat pocket. “If Wulfgar gives you an F, I’ll deal with the registrar myself.”
Edward Elric jogged up the steps, digging around his pockets for his keys. Behind him, his students watched in confusion and awe.
“Did she say Fullmetal Alchemist?” said Henrietta.
“Yeah,” said Josef. “Why?”
Henrietta’s face moved in stages from confusion to realization to open incredulity. “Holy shit.”
Once inside, Edward brushed snow off his coat, rubbed some heat back into his hands, and flipped through his ring of keys. The jingling drew unexpected attention.
He looked up to see the frowning, serious face of Riza Hawkeye marching down the hall.
“Oh, hey, Captain! Good to see you,” Ed grinned as if they’d just bumped into each other at a cafe. He fiddled with the lock on his door. “Didn’t know it was your men they’d sent over this way. How are you?”
Riza was unmoved. “Edward, what are you doing in here?”
“I work here,” he unlocked his office door, jimmied the handle, and slammed his shoulder against the door. It came unstuck and squeaked open. He switched on the lights.
“Oh good,” the disorganized heaps of paper were exactly how he’d left them, untouched by water or fire. “Diane would have killed me.” He opened his briefcase and began shovelling papers into it with one arm. Riza stood by the door, holding a pistol ready at her side, casting looks over both shoulders.
“We have a secure perimeter, how did you get in here?”
Ed held up his watch and dangled it until she looked. “The lieutenant let me in.”
“Edward, you can’t just…” but she knew that, technically, he could. Technically, he still outranked her. “We’re in a bit of a situation, you can’t just sit here and grade papers.”
“I know, I know,” Ed leaned on top of his briefcase to force it closed. It squeaked, so he put more weight onto it until it snapped shut, leather bulging. “Don’t worry about me, I’m prepared,” he reached into his pocket and brandished his borrowed pistol. Riza started.
“Where did you get that?”
“The lieutenant. She seemed worried when she heard who I was. Kinda rude, if you ask me. What have you been telling them about me?” He shoved it back into his pocket and held a small remaining stack of papers in his teeth while he put his gloves back on.
“Do you have your things?” Riza asked, ignoring the question. “I’ll escort you out.”
“Hhh-ine,” Ed grumbled around the homework. He rolled them up and put them in a pocket. “If anything else gets destroyed, I’ll direct the Dean to you.”
Riza called up two sergeants to cover her post while she escorted Edward to a side entrance of the building.
“Make sure Lieutenant Fletcher gets her pistol back, she shouldn’t have given it to you in the first place. She’ll be in a lot of trouble if it goes missing.”
“It’s not missing, it’s with me,” Edward retorted.
“Well in any event, I’m going to have to reprimand her anyway. She can’t just hand out her firearms just because you can’t do alchemy. Ed?” Pistol still at the ready, Riza paused and turned. Edward had frozen in the middle of the hallway. All traces of his carefree fatigue had evaporated, replaced by the kind of instinctual alarm that had helped him live to adulthood.
“Edward?” Riza called.
Ed was looking down an abandoned hall of classrooms, eyes fixated on room 103. Its door, like several of the other classrooms, was cracked just ajar. Unlike the other classrooms, there was a light on the other side of the door.
“Did you search these rooms?” He asked suddenly, not turning to look at the captain.
“Yes, when we arrived an hour ago.”
“Did you search them again?”
Ed ignored her, and walked carefully down the hall. Riza hesitated to follow him. She heard his pistol’s safety click off.
“Edward?” She edged toward the hallway, and peaked around the corner. Ed stood in the doorway of classroom 103, silhouette framed by an ethereal blue light. Lightning seemed to crackle from within the room. Alchemy.
“Shit!” Edward practically fell backward, slamming the door shut. “Out! Out! Everybody out!” he shouted. Riza was holding up her gun, ready to shoot whoever was in pursuit, but there was no one. Edward passed her toward the door. He did a double take when he realized she wasn’t following him. “Lieutenant,” he called her out of habit, “move!” He grabbed her by the back of her collar and yanked her out of the hall right as the explosion went off.
Seconds or minutes later, Edward looked up from the ground to see Riza shouting orders at her men. She was bleeding from her temple but looked no worse for wear, a gun in her hand and angry as hell. He could not hear what she was saying, and became increasingly aware that one or both of his eardrums must’ve burst, leaving his head ringing. His hands ground against drywall and plaster dust as he pushed himself upright. A figure ran in front of him. They were not in military blue. They were not in university dress. They did, however, have chalk in one hand and a transmutation circle tattooed on the other.
“Lieutenant,” Edward tried to say, but coughed. “That’s the… it’s the same circle, he’s,” he coughed again, and realized no one was going to hear him. “Damnit,” he slurred, unable to hear himself except the part of the voice that echoed in his bones. With difficulty, he rose to his feet, using his briefcase to shield himself from falling rubble as he jogged toward the front door.
There were military personnel everywhere, running and shouting with guns drawn. Most of the crowd had the sense to run, too, but some lingered, unsure of what to do or where to go. Amid the crowd, Edward spotted a man running away sans coat, sans scarf, covered in plaster dust with a circular tattoo on the back of his hand.
“There!” he pointed. “That’s him, there, there!” He jogged down the steps and almost slipped. No one seemed to be listening. He’s going to get away, damnit. “Lieutenant!” But neither Hawkeye or Fletcher were there to hear him. His ears rang, his eyes stung with cold, there was blood tickling his face, he felt like he was going to be sick. The terrorist looked back at him, saw him, and ran faster. Edward’s hands twitched, itching to clap together and bring this bastard down by force. He felt a weight in his pocket. He grabbed it.
“Josef!” He yelled, spotting his student in the way. He leveled his gun. “Get down, now!”
Josef fell to the ground. The trigger offered more resistance than he’d expected. Kickback. An unexpected burst of red, and the terrorist fell to the ground. After a moment, the figure stirred and clutched at his injured knee, which leaving a bloody red pool on the ground. Military swarmed, and Edward fell back into a seat on the stairs so he could hold his head and wait for the world to stop spinning.
After his hearing began to come back somewhat, he found Lieutenant Fletcher. “You did not give this to me,” Edward told her, holding up her pistol with a single finger.
“I abused my authority and took this from you, understand? It’s my fault, not yours. I’m going to surrender this to your Captain, she and I will handle it from there.”
“Y-yes sir,” the lieutenant said, and then glanced at either side of his face. “Sir, you need medical attention.”
Edward looked down at himself, and realized he’d ruined his best winter coat by bleeding all over it. “Oh,” he said. His ears had even bled onto the essays stuffed into his pocket. “Great.”
They had the university open two days later, but they’d siphoned off the alchemy classes to the math and geography buildings while they cleaned up the carnage. Edward’s left ear would be healing from a perforated eardrum for the next several weeks, but with his right, he could hear the chatter in the halls:
“I heard he used to be a student here,”
“Ex military?”
“Angry about the reinstatement of Ishval,”
“Targeted against General Mustang, I think,”
“My mom says she’s been worried about something like this happening…”
“Something about the Fullmetal Alchemist?”
“Change, of course people will be angry. But this?”
“Seems a bit drastic.”
“Fullmetal who?”
“That’s what they called him - he was joking about a coup d'etat!”
Edward pushed open his classroom door, and the chatter stopped. He dumped out his briefcase onto his desk and shuffled through its contents. He scratched at his forehead beneath the large bandage that ran over his ear. Most of the essays were already in alphabetical order, but there were four unfortunate outliers.
“Uh, Tasha,” he climbed up to where Tasha Miller sat in her usual seat on the third row. He tried to ignore how everyone else watched him. “I’m very sorry, I wasn’t able to grade your entire essay, I uh…” he was speaking quietly, as he always did with students about assignments, but the hall was unnaturally silent today. “Part of it got, uh, part of it got blood on it, but,” he quickly  reassured her, misunderstanding her horror for disgust, “I was able to retype it, hopefully my comments are helpful, you seem to have a good understanding of the topic.” He scratched at his bandage again. “Good work.” He shuffled through the three other re-typed essays in his arms. “Martin Kovacheck? Oh, there you are. You guys need to stop swapping seats on me.” He laughed. He was the only one who laughed.
He moved around the room in an apologetic round before they moved onto the lesson. As he gathered up the regular essays to distribute to the class, his right ear caught wind of a frantic whisper:
“No, not about Tuesday, I meant the coup d'etat. With Mustang. He was there.”
Edward had a feeling he wasn’t going to hear the end of this.
“Well, sir,” said Josef quietly, when Edward went to return his graded essay, “They blew something up, all right.”
Ed felt his ear throbbing. “Yeah, I guess they did.” 
Josef smiled as if it were a joke, and Edward realized that it was his humor that the boy was absorbing. His heart weighed him down.
“You’re not too bad a shot for someone who doesn’t like guns.” Roy Mustang signed his name, flipped the page, and signed again. Flip. Sign. Flip. “If I issue you your own firearm, this won’t be so much of a headache next time.”
Edward Elric scowled at him. “There won’t be a next time.”
“Really?” Roy didn’t look up. Sign. Flip. “Winry called me earlier and asked me if I thought you needed a gun, after what happened. She also told me that dry cleaning isn’t going to save your coat.”
“What are you doing calling my wife on a Friday afternoon? You know, sometime you could try minding your own damn busine-”
“She called me, Fullmetal.”
Edward scowled harder. His ear was healing but ached terribly. He sulked, and signed the forms that Roy shoved to his side of the desk. “No guns,” he said. “The last thing I need is another reason for my students to ask me about Back Then.”
Roy paused in his signing. Resumed. “Oh?”
“They want me to guest lecture in the history department. The History Department. We’re history now, apparently.”
Roy chuckled. “You should be flattered.”
“I’m pissed off.”
“And why’s that?” Roy passed him another round of paperwork. Edward was staring at nothing. It took him a moment to take the paper.
“Because it’s not history. It was my life.” He scribbled out his signature.
Roy smiled to himself. “I know how you feel.”
It wasn’t the sort of conversation Edward was wont to have with the General, and he didn’t want that to change. “Do you.” Sign. Flip. Sign.
“You’re not the first person to live through a war. You’re not the first alchemist to do horrible things and regret it.”
Edward looked up at him, and they made eye contact for a few fleeting seconds. They turned back to their paperwork. Sign. Flip. Sign.
“I was just a kid,” Ed said quietly, irritably.
Roy was quiet for several beats. “Yeah.” Flip. Flip. Flip. Sign. Flip. He glanced up at Edward. “So are you going to sit in that chair and mope about it? Or are you going to move forward?”
For the briefest of moments, he was eleven years old again, but this time he was much bigger and far, far more tired.
“You don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want to, you know,” said Roy. “You’ve already pissed off half of the Central U faculty, from what I hear. What’s one more department?” Flip, flip, sign.
“Yeah, I guess,” Edward said, taking the papers and signing them without reading them. Flip. Flip.
“If they don’t let you off the hook, direct them to me. I can guest lecture, if they want the real story. Heaven only knows what lies you’d tell them.”
Edward thought he was joking, and laughed. “Thanks.”
“I’m not joking,” Roy told him, and waited until Edward looked up to add, “Really. If they push the issue, just give me a call.”
Edward was not used to tone of compassion in the General Bastard’s voice. It wasn’t comfortable like the taboos of alchemy and the sounds of gunfire. He did his best to ignore it.
“Of course.” Sign. Flip. Flip. Sign. Date. Flip.
“God, this is a lot of paper,” Ed complained.
“Then get your own gun, Fullmetal.”
“Would you get off my back.”
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killerrogerina · 2 years ago
Gonna Give You My Love
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Pairing: Virgin!Roger Taylor x Virign!F!Reader
Words: 2416 words
Contains: Fluff, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected sex (18+)
Requested by Anonymous: do virgin rog where you take each others virginity please im begging
@disaster-rose  If your request are open I have one. Virgin roger and best friend. They’ve been friends since babies basically, then every thing changes when Queen gets off its feet. He comes back to their apartment and catches her on the couch in a tank top wait for him and it gets hot and heavy from there.
A/N: For the purpose of this fic, let’s pretend Roger was a virgin till he was 24/25 but not a complete virgin if you know what i mean. And yes I was listening to Led Zeppelin’s whole discography while writing this. Anyway, enjoy my loves <3 let me know what you think pls!!
Requests are closed for now!
The year was 1974, on a hot summer day. It was so hot that day that you opted to wear your Led Zeppelin tank top and panties. You were laying down on the couch, a book in hand, with the fan turned on facing you. It was a good thing Roger wasn’t home or else you wouldn’t be able to prance around in your underwear. You and the drummer of Queen had been best friends since…none of you remember exactly how long, because you practically grew up together. You were the inseparable duo. After graduating, you both decided to live together since you couldn’t afford a place of your own.
You were too engrossed in the story you were reading to hear the front door open and close. “Y/N! I’m back!” The voice startled you as the book slipped from your hands and fell on the floor with a loud thud.
Roger knew you’d be home, but he was expecting the sight before him. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare legs, one knee bended and swaying side to side giving him a nice view of your clothed core.
Noticing his leering, you blushed and swiftly threw the blanket draped on the couch over your bare skin. “Roger! I wasn’t expecting you to be back from tour already.” You sat up leaning against the arm of the sofa.  
“I’d say you were expecting me, dressed like that.” He smirked before sitting down next to you wishing you’d be comfortable being half naked around him like he is with you.
“Not everything is about you, Rog.” You rolled your eyes. “I was feeling hot and I forgot you’d be back at this hour. Or else I’d wear something more suitable.”
“Pff it’s nothing I haven’t seen, love.” He scoffed recalling the time he walked in on you showering…more than once. You didn’t learn from the first incident to always lock the door.
You were starting to get warm under the wool blanket as your face flushed. Roger noticed that raising an eyebrow then grabbed the end of the cloth. “So you’re not feeling hot now?” His fingers tugging it teasingly while biting his lip and watching your reaction.
It was pretty obvious what he was about to do. So you tightened your grip on the woolen material, your eyes narrowing at him almost daring him to even try to pull it off. “I’m fine, thanks. Shouldn’t you go unpack?” You tried to find ways to make him leave so you could go put on shorts at least.
“I’d rather unpack something else.” He roughly tugged, your hold loosening slightly before gripping it tightly again. Roger always teased to get a rise out of you. He enjoyed getting under your skin and see you get flustered. The truth, however, was that he was in love with you. All those teasing and flirting he took them seriously whereas you thought it was because he was a shameless flirt. Which the blond definitely was, he never missed the chance to chat up a pretty girl when he saw one.
It took him a while to realize he was in love with you. Mainly, Brian talked some sense into him when he was drunk and frustrated a few nights ago. He couldn’t fathom why, when it came down to it, he wasn’t able to have sex with anyone. Sure he’d let groupies give him handjobs and blowjobs before, but even when he was jacked up he never went all the way and something in his brain always told him to stop.
Guilt. Guilt was plaguing his mind. His poodle haired friend helped him realize that he subconsciously felt remorseful for his actions. You, however, never knew this fact. He always came back to your flat boasting about his latest conquest. You were certain he’d lost his virginity long ago, but boy were you wrong.
You came up with a plan. It all depended on how fast you could escape from him. He seemed to be tired from the tour, so you thought you had a pretty good chance of running away. You watched as his fingers danced along the material with a playful grin on his lips. Before he dared to pull again, you quickly got up and tried to make a run for it. However, he was fast enough to yank the blanket and you along with it making you land on his lap and the material fell on the floor.
“Ro-” He didn’t give you enough time to react. His hands grabbed your cheeks and smashed his lips against yours. You let out a muffled squeal at the sudden contact, your body tensing. Noticing this, he ran his thumb across your cheek in an effort to calm you down. It worked for a few seconds till you realized what was going on.
“Roger Meddows Taylor, what was that?!” You tried to get up, but his hands slid down to your waist and held you in place with your legs straddling him.
“I love you, Y/N.”
Hearing those words, you halted your movements and stared at him in shock. You grew nervous at the confession not knowing how you really felt about it, about him. Sure you found him attractive, you’d have to be blind not to, but were you in love with him?
Thinking back on all those moments you were there for him. You were there when his heart got broken by his first love. Those days he threw tantrums, you were the only one who could calm him down. The nights he’d be pissed drunk and you’d be there to take care of him, sleep next to him when he begged you to. You cared for him deeply, but were in denial of your true feelings for him all this time.
Roger gently shook you to snap you out of your trance. He was nervously waiting for some kind of response. He bit his lip and looked up with his deep blue eyes. “Y/N? Please say something.”
­­­You let out a shaky breath and chuckled nervously before admitting “I love you too, Roger.”
You’ve never seen him grin that wide as he locked his lips with yours eagerly. His hands caressed the smooth skin of your thighs making you shiver. Suddenly, he’s kissing you harder and deeper with fervent urgency that left you dazed. You knotted your fingers in his long hair gripping it lightly. He groaned softly and pushed you back on the couch hovering above you. His grind his hips against yours and you started to feel the heat grow between your legs.
“I want you, love.” He said out of breath.
You froze and shyly avoided his gaze. You wanted him just as badly, but were insecure about your lack of experience whereas he’d been with many experienced women, or so you thought.
He lifted your chin to get you to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Let’s face it, you’ve slept with lots of women who are way better than me. I’m a virgin, Rog. You know this.”
He chuckled shaking his head “So am I.”
“Oh, please.”
“No, I really am. I never slept with those women.” He tried to convince you, but you weren’t buying it. You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Fine, I’ve done oral before but that’s as far as I’ve gone.”
“And why is that?” You were really trying this hard to believe.
“Apparently, I’m so in love with you that I can’t have sex with other women.” He said then added “Brian’s words. He helped me realize that the other night. Look.” He cupped your face and gazed into your eyes lovingly. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’d settle for your sweet kisses till you’re ready.”
Your response to that was knotting your fists in his unbuttoned shirt and pulled him harder towards you while you sucked on his earlobe catching him off-guard. “I’m willing to offer you more than that.” You purred in his ear making him shiver and buck his hips.
His hand reached your breasts, kneading them through your shirt while his lips were occupied leaving love bites on your neck. “No bra, huh?” He relished on that discovery. Then, without warning, he started to rip your tank top apart.
You gasped “That’s my favorite top!” He carried on tearing it to pieces before throwing them on the floor with a satisfied smile.
“No girl of mine is going to wear a Zeppelin shirt.” He growled before latching onto a nipple and suckling it.
You felt that familiar ache in the pit of your stomach as he alternated between your breasts giving each equal attention while his hands roamed south. You weren’t having it that he was still dressed, so you pushed him back slightly and helped him shrug off his shirt and unbuckle his pants.
He went to remove his metal necklace and choker, but you stopped him. “Keep them. It’s hot.” His cheeks started to heat up, surprised at your words. “As you wish.”
He lowered himself, placing kisses from the valley of your chest till he reached the edges of your underwear. His eyes asked for your permission and you nodded breathing heavily. His fingers pulled them down then off of you. Your heart started pounding, feeling so open and exposed to him.
“You’re so beautiful.” He reassured you. “Every inch of you.” His eyes scanned your body in admiration, his fingers ran up your thighs before reaching your folds.
His middle finger traced up and down your slit making sure to apply extra pressure near your bundle of nerves, at least he hoped it was there. From the sound of your moans, he had found it. He picked up the pace rubbing circles on it making you wet enough, preparing you.
“Relax, love.” You gripped the back of the couch feeling him insert a finger slowly. “Roger.” You moaned his name for the first time. It send a jolt of pleasure to his already hardening cock. He couldn’t wait to hear more of your delicious moans. Feeling you stretch enough around his finger, he started to thrust in and out while watching you.
When he added the second finger, you groaned and tried your best to breathe and relax around his fingers. “You’re doing amazing.” He encouraged you and leaned up to kiss you, darting his tongue in your mouth. You moaned against his lips finally feeling the pleasure from his thrusts. Your hips started to move with the pace of his fingers.
“So good.” You managed to let out. “I’m getting close.” At those words, he raised his thumb to circle your clit while picking up the pace of his thrusts. “Cum for me, Y/N.” You let out a loud moan as you came undone, body shaking. He helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling out his fingers making you whimper and licking them. “Mmm sweet.”
That alone was enough to rouse you again. You tried catching your breath meanwhile he started to get out of his underwear. His hard length was free of its confinements. He noticed you staring at him with pink dusted cheeks and smirked. “You can touch it, you know.”
Roger guided your hand to his cock and helped you set a pace. Once you got the hang of it, he gave you full reign. You started to move hand slowly across his entire length. “That’s it, love.” He shuddered at the feel of your soft hands stroking him, your movements becoming more fluid.
“Does it feel good?” You asked innocently, fully knowing how you were making him feel. The blond closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He groaned as you started rubbing him faster, his breathing quickened. “Slow down. I don’t want to cum yet.” He grabbed your hands to stop you.
Once again, you were on your back. He teased your entrance making your hips buck. “Stop teasing, Rog.” You moaned and he was enjoying seeing you an absolute mess because of him. “What do you want, baby?” He grabbed your legs wrapping them around his waist and nibbled on your collarbone.
“Fuck me, Roger.” He shivered hearing you beg and slowly entered you. You let out a soft hiss and breathed in feeling him stretch your walls. “You alright, love?” His voice laced with concern as he stopped his movement letting you adjust to his size. You took a moment to get used to the fullness then nodded.
Roger sunk himself all the way in and groaned loudly. “Christ, you’re so fucking tight.” He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to last long. He’d never felt such pleasure before and neither have you. As he kept thrusting slowly, any sign of discomfort slowly vanished from your body. Your hisses turned into moans and your head forced itself back.
He took this opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck, his long hair tickling you. Your hand tangled itself into his blond locks as you gripped on them tightly knowing he’d enjoy it. His hair was already sweaty, some of the strands sticking to his toned back.
“Fuck, Y/N.” He started moving in and out of you faster, you tried to match his rhythm. You both knew you couldn’t last longer.
“Roger…faster.” You urged him and he complied picking up the pace making you moan louder. The pleasure you were feeling at that moment was explosive. There were no other words to describe it. Your whimpers were spurring him on. He started to thrust harder and groan louder with each sloppy plunge.
Your walls tightened around his throbbing length as you both reached your high simultaneously. Roger collapsed on top of you trying to catch his breath. Your hand still in his hair stroked his head gently. He hummed relaxing under your soothing touch. His own were caressing your side gently.
“That was amazing.” You were the first to speak. Roger squeezed your side in agreement then added “I wish I confessed sooner.”
He slowly raised himself and started peppering your face with kisses “Because, you were simply divine.” His kisses were now tender and sweet unlike earlier. Your fingers left his hair and slid down to trace his back. He shuddered and his half hooded eyes gazed up at you, smirking devilishly.
“Round 2?”
Taglist: @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg, @bitemerog, @queenssparrow, @hiken-no-stark, @downbesideredfirelight, @kazzys-queenblog, @erinhardytaylor, @angelichardy, @taylorslamps, @dreamy–far-off–look, @fancypeterparkermarvelous, @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank, @babydazz, @violetpond, @magicwithaknife, @blessupblessup, @patrick-the-stumping, @tryingtosurviveasafangirl, @tara-jadet1ffen, @otterboydotjpg, @hypottercrisy, @winchestergirl907, @prblmtclvs, @rogerfckintaylor
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yesokayiknow · a year ago
okay so hc that thirteen likes to root through charity shops and one day she runs into bill in one.
they bump into each other while looking through tshirts and thirteen just freezes (bill also freezes because oh no this very pretty woman who’s covered in rainbows is very close to my face). bill ends up panicking and saying some awful chat up line and thirteen can’t help it she just like nervously laughs (tbf its really bad) and is like youre......adorable but uh it wouldn’t work ok bye. and she leaves because that’s what the doctor does when they panic.
when they bumped into each other
the sonic fell out of her pocket.
and it’s very clearly something weird & alien, so bill takes it to twelve.
twelve takes one look at it and is like what did he look like and bill’s like um she(?) was wearing like bright colours and braces?
twelve, mentally: oh cool am i female presenting?
also twelve: bRACES AGAIN????? WHY??????
he just puts the screwdriver in his office safe and figures that future him will come and get it when he’s not there and he’s like ehh it’ll be fine bill don’t worry about it which like technically true?
but bill still wants to Know so she hangs around twelve’s office when he’s not there hoping she can catch the woman again when she comes back for it.
and, a couple of weeks later, she does.
i mean first of all she. she falls in through the window
and she like crawls on all fours over to the safe and she probably throws a lil roll in there too and she thinks she’s being super sneaky.
and she gets her screwdriver out the safe and turns round and sees bill sat at twelve’s desk.
thirteen: long were you...?
bill: the whole time
thirteen: ah.
and the thing is, bill’s really smart okay? she’s smart and she’s quick and she’s had a few weeks to think about why the doctor knew it was a screwdriver straight away and why he knew the person that left it but not what they looked like and why he was so adamant that they wouldn’t turn up while he was there
(and she’s especially been thinking about the look the stranger gave her before they fled the shop. that quick glance of complete and utter loss)
she still wasn’t 100% sure but now the stranger’s looking at her again and it’s the same look and
you’re him, she says the doctor. aren’t you.
thirteen smiles and it’s the same quiet but fiercely proud smile twelve makes whenever bill does something that impresses him
you always were so smart, she says. well. apart from that one essay, but ill let it slide.
it’s not a yes, but then, bill thinks, she wouldn't be the doctor if she'd given a straight answer, would she?
there are so many things she wants to ask, but she knows that they probably won't be answered, so instead she just asks one thing
i know you're a different person now but. are we still friends?
and thirteen just laughs. always, she says, and forever.
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alazic02 · 2 years ago
she takes his hand, carefully lacing her fingers with his and examining the honeycomb pattern that catches the dim light of her bedside lamp.
she picks up his other hand and holds them both close to her face. his gloved palms are warm. it seeps through his suit and adds more color to her flushed cheeks. lidded eyes travel up his arms to his face.
his vibrant green eyes are staring right back at her, peering through the mask and piercing her heart. he is centimeters away, both of their heads lying on her pillow.
“you’re blushing,” she whispers.
“so are you.”
his breath tickles her nose.
“may i kiss you, Chat Noir?” she can barely hear the words as she says them. she sees his pupils constrict as he suddenly sucks in a breath.
“yes.” his lips hardly move but his voice echoes in her head, competing with the sound of blood rushing through her ears.
she pulls his hands down from her cheeks and holds them tight against her heart, using them like a lifeline to cross the tiny space between them.
there’s a bit of fumbling and noses being everywhere but eventually she’s able to press her lips against his. they’re soft, and he presses back oh so gently.
her eyes flutter closed.
she can taste his orange-flavored chapstick and worries that her lips are dry. not that it matters.
she pulls back and finds his eyes again. they’re glowing, pupils dilated and reflecting the lamplight, looking back at her, through her, full of something that she doesn’t have the words to describe.
it fills her with warmth.
“your eyes look like they’re full of fire,” he says, voice catching on the last syllable.
“so do yours.”
he smiles. “this conversation sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?”
“except now it’s your turn to ask.”
“may i kiss you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”
x || x
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polyglotplatypus · 10 months ago
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woohoo, chapter 2 of my grimon fic is out! with art, tears and some humour.
(link in source and notes)
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beca-mitchell · a year ago
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Famous!Chloe Beale and her arrogant, insolent personal assistant, Beca Mitchell.
They totally do not get along. Not at all. Especially not when they’re making out and Chloe has Beca sitting on her vanity.
But they definitely don’t get along.
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