#this SHOULD BE YOUR GOAL not your “if only”

[barcaatthemoon]

should be me || leah williamson x reader ||

leah gets jealous when the team tease you about the obvious thing going on between you and rachel daly.

you sat silently in your cubby, ignoring the looks of your teammates. this game against aston villa wasn't overly important, no more than any others you'd played this season. still, you were incredibly nervous about it. your captains were all picking up on it, but they had different approaches for trying to help you.

leah tried to comfort you the best that she could, but it was little more than an awkward shoulder pat and reassuring comment. kim was much more motherly in her attempts to calm you down a bit. however, it was unfortunately katie who was the most effective with her knowing and teasing comments.

"are you excited to see your little girlfriend?" katie asked as she nudged you with her elbow. both you and leah snapped your heads towards katie to glare at her. leah's glare was all anger, but yours was annoyance. "she's been asking a lot about you. i think you've really got a chance."

"whatever," you huffed. truthfully, you would have been more than happy going out with rachel. however, there was a slight problem. she wasn't leah. nobody else was leah, and that was why all of your dates led to absolutely nothing. you wanted to be with leah, but leah didn't want to be with you.

"seriously, she's interested," katie told you.

"drop it mccabe," leah grumbled. katie put her hands up in surrender, muttering about how she only wanted to help her friends. katie didn't understand why leah always got so upset whenever arsenal played aston villa. leah and rachel were friends, at least they were until the teams met up. leah was friendlier with her national teammates who played for chelsea than she was with rachel. "you good?"

"i'm fine leah," you promised her. she smiled as she ruffled your hair a bit. you groaned as you tried to fix your hair again. you were just finishing up whenever kim called everybody to huddle up for a quick pre-game pep talk. you knew that arsenal had this game in the bag, but you still appreciated the little boost to everybody's confidence.

"quick hug before we become sworn enemies?" rachel asked. you hadn't expected to see her waiting for you as the team shuffled out of the locker room. admittedly, you had been a bit eager as you launched yourself into her arms. behind you, leah scoffed as she walked past the two of you. "i'd tell you good luck, but my mates would kill me."

"we don't need it anyway." you gave rachel a cheeky smile before you joined your team. the girls all started to tease you a bit as you found your mascot and spot in line. you knew that you had done it to yourself, but their words still made your cheeks burn bright red with embarrassment.

…

arsenal's win over aston villa was unsurprising. you hadn't scored any goals, but your two assists brought you all the pride you could handle. usually, you found yourself right by leah's side after games like this, but katie was excitedly pushing you away from the team. you were about to question her whenever she directed you towards a downtrodden rachel daly.

"go on, give her something to smile about," katie told you. she gave you a good shove, which leah missed. all the blonde saw was you walking over and sitting next to rachel. the two of you sat on the pitch for nearly 10 minutes together before you got up to take a shower.

you liked longer showers, but a good amount of the hot water had been used up. you walked back into the locker room to the stares of your teammates. this time, instead of katie starting the teasing, it was steph and caitlin. even kim joined in, which was when leah finally lost her cool.

"for the love of god, will you lot stop talking about rachel? i am sick and tired of hearing her name! we get it, she's into (y/n) and maybe (y/n)'s into her too!" leah shouted. you flinched as she stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind her.

"what the hell was that about?" katie asked as she glanced over towards you. in all honesty, you had no idea what leah was on about. she had never been a big fan of the jokes, but it had never seemed like something that would result in such an outburst.

"(y/n), honey, i think you should talk to leah," kim told you. she placed her hand on the small of your back as she guided you onto your feet. you didn't know why, but you were incredibly nervous as you looked for leah. she wasn't mad at you, but there was a chance that she'd blow up on you too. you didn't want to smother her, but the team had decided that you were the best person to find out what was wrong.

"leah?" you called out as you found her in an empty trainer's room. "can i sit with you?"

"surprised you're not off comforting your little girlfriend," leah grumbled. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you stared at her. at the look of confusion on your face, leah suddenly felt a bit guilty. it wasn't you who had been making all the jokes after all. if anything, you were the most innocent in the whole situation. you didn't seem to understand the situation, unlike kim and alessia, who definitely knew all about leah's feelings.

"i don't have a girlfriend. rachel and i are just friends, leah. we grew up in the same neighborhood, we're like sisters," you told her. leah had heard it a million times before, just like most of the team had. "why does it bother you so much whenever they talk about rachel? you two are friends."

"it's not just rachel, it's you and rachel that bother me. this is embarrassing to say out loud, but i get jealous," leah admitted. you didn't understand what leah could possibly have to be jealous about. the two of you weren't dating, and even if you had been, you never ever would have hooked up with rachel. you meant it whenever you said that she was like your sister.

"i'm not yours, so why are you so jealous?" you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice. leah caught onto it, and instead of getting defensive, she decided to play along. if you wanted her to stop, you were more than comfortable telling her so.

"because maybe, i think that you should be mine," leah said. she grabbed onto your jaw and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your lips.

"don't play with me like this," you warned her.

"i'm not playing love," leah told you. you swallowed as your eyes flicked down to her lips. leah caught your gaze and took the hint. she didn't waste any time in teasing you, opting to press her lips against yours instead. you kissed leah back, opening your mouth just enough for the tip of her tongue to dip into your mouth. leah's hands moved to the back of your head as she pulled you even closer.

"take me home." you had been reluctant to break the kiss, but if things had gone any further, you wouldn't have been able to stop yourself. leah seemed to understand that, sighing as she got off of the table.

"not tonight, not yet. i want to do better than that for you. i'll pick you up tomorrow morning for coffee and breakfast. we can see how things go from there, okay?" leah offered.

"i never thought i'd see the day leah williamson turned away such a willing bedmate," you teased.

"trust me, it's not easy by any means, but you deserve better," leah said. you pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks before you leaned in for a final one to her lips. this kiss was softer and sweeter than the one you had just shared, neither one of you pressing too far in any direction. "i'll miss you."

"i never thought you could be such a sap, it's cute."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

[rinbowaman]

H I S M A R K : H E E D A M

WARNINGS: FLUFF, SMUT (UNPROTECTED), ORAL (MALE REC.), REFERENCE TO NONCON SMUT, MENTIONS OF FORCED BREEDING, SEX SLAVERY (HISTORICAL), DUBCON, MYTHOLOGY, ANCIENT HISTORY, SYMBOLISM, MARKINGS, YANDERE LOVE, OBSESSION, POSSESSIVE, FANTASY, MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING, PARANOIA, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, FORCED LOVE, ISOLATION, AND CURSING. NOT PROOREAD (YET).

THIS TAKES PLACE SHORTLY AFTER ‘CHILD OF THE SEA’ DRABBLE. ALL PART IF THE MERMAIDS TALE SERIES ON MASTERLIST.

This Drabble had me feeling something that is surreal I swear. Probably my favorite Drabble yet.

THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL.

For days, weeks, and months, you’ve questioned your sanity. It was the same routine; waking up in an unknown territory, wondering if you’ll ever get to experience freedom again. You’ve tried to calm yourself, but a factor prohibits you from gaining rest. It has been so long since you were able to roam the streets on your own, to visit the bakery that you loved so much, and to sip coffee while viewing the window of your high-rise apartment. It wasn’t that you couldn’t do the things you enjoyed in life, you just had to enjoy it…with him.

Over a year, this man had broken you down, restricted you of using your own senses, and prohibited in exercising your own way of thinking. No. Everything was about him. He made it that way to reflect his own spirit, since for him, everything was about you. You were all he sees, eats, hear, and breathes. It caused his insanity in which formed that insatiable love for you. He wanted you to rely on him, to think of only him, and to love him the way he does you. It’s…sickening. The worst part…was that you were actually starting to succumb to your weak heart.

The other day he made a great effort to impregnate you…the image plagues your mind, no matter what you’re looking at. You’ve tried to erase it completely, yet the view of his exposed throat, his thick neck in full display as he shoves and rests his length deep inside your womb, pumping out each string of release. His hands gripped your hips, slowly sliding up to your waist while he rests in between your legs, and his head remained flung back. His poignant Adams Apple bobs up and down delicately as he restlessly murmurs…’Uh-Uh-huh.”

He tells you that you should be grateful. For the rumors of his ancestors and their harsh breeding methods with Sirens were merely just to produce sons. At least with him, he did it out of love and passion. He tells you of how the sirens would eventually weakened to the desires of an Adams touch, and eventually grew to love their captors…which he predicted would become the end result for you.

‘It’s only a matter of time’ he says.

If only what he said wouldn’t hold any truth, yet as each passing day rotates in and out, you’re slowly coming to realize that he spoke the truth. It may not be out of your own willingness to return that love, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was the end goal, despite it being a result of Stockholm Syndrome. Regardless of his abusive method in claiming you, that love he displayed…it was getting to you.

‘It’s only a matter of time, baby. You will love me…you will, Siren.’

Sirens…a creature only read in mythology books, or poems and mentioning’s by philosophers. Who could ever believe that there was more truth to their existence?

A Siren cannot feel the physical touch, sensation, or feeling of anything. Not even pain at a high scale. Should anyone cut off your limb, or carve out an eye, you wouldn’t feel it. You wouldn’t scream. You wouldn’t even shed a single tear. No matter how many injuries your body would display, you’ll never feel the blister of the injury….unless it was done by an Adam.

The only person that can make you feel things. He knew that…he knew that too well. From the moment he sensed your expression and witnessed it at the party, he knew that something was amiss. He could feel it.

The Clan of Adam is what they are called, singularly referred to as ‘Adam’s’ named after the first man. The bloodline stemmed from the sons sired by Alexander the Great, that much you both knew. At least up until the moment he found the memento remnants of his late grandfather…who met a tortuous end by his grandsons hand.

“Huh…look what I found baby.” He holds the large book in both hands. It was ancient, laced by a gold chained binding, with thin wooden slats, polished to perfection with the inscription carved in the finest font. Elegant and edged with Hellenic images, charts, and astronomical symbols, you could tell that the contents contained knowledge that was unreal…stuff people read out of a fairy tale.

He pulls you back by tenderly holding your waist, sitting you on his lap as he sets the book before you. Resting it on your thighs, he passionately roams his palms up and down your ribcage, taking deep inhales as he whiffs in your scent, burying his nose at the back of your neck. “Mmm, fuck I love you.”

Your eyes begin to form tears…again. Yet each time you calmly sobbed, they became less and less watery. The feeling of touch, while initially had disgusted you, has now become the very thing you embraced. It was something you craved…and only he could give it to you.

“Read it baby.” He sighs out as he takes in another whiff. His hands lower their grip to your hips; his thumbs pressing in right above your derrière, beside your tailbone.

You arch your back as you winced your eyes. Your mind kept telling you to be strong and resist…but your heart told you the opposite. He pulls you in, smoothing your rear to grind and settle right on his bulge. “You’re sooooooo perfect…perfect for me.” He drags a deep tone as he flings his head back, lightly bucking his hips upwards. The sensation formed a familiar knot, a tightness that expanded until it snaps, releasing the flow of intense orgasm and pleasure. “P-please…please don’t—“

You gently spoke your words, moaning them out as you plead. You wanted it and didn’t want it. He reached up and around, turning your head to the side to face him, eloping you in a beautifully tender kiss. He grinds, and you move. He bucks, and you press in. Your bodies became a perfectly tuned rhythm of pleasure…and love.

“H-Heeseung…” you moan in between the small pecks. He lightly groans into your mouth, admitting a long and harsh lick up from your bottom lip to the top. “Aw fuck…yeah baby? You like that?” He doesn’t give you room to answer before re-sealing your mouth into a rather messier kiss. The twisting and twirling of tongue and the stroking of canines has completely melted you, and he could feel it on his crotch.

His hands migrate up and around, unionizing on your tummy. They slowly mesh downward and apply pressure as they rub on the flat canvas above your clit. It didn’t take long for him to find his way under your dress, his hands were so gifted in knowing the in and outs of feminine-styled seams. He hooks your panties and shove them to the side, and God..the way he could move his hands alone was enough to get you heated and moist. So wet.

Not once did he release your mouth. The flaring of your nostrils indicates the struggle for breath, yet the latching proved that it was all worth the struggle. Your lips quiver as your thighs shake; his fingers gently rubbing small circles right at the tip, surfacing a toil of piercing desire that raged within you like the fires of Hell. You moan some more in his mouth, hating how you were loving the way he explored inside you. That damn tongue of his…he was so experienced, being a former playboy, but now a committed husband who only had eyes, a heart, and soul, just for you.

“Oh Heeseung…mmmm! Oh please-“

“Fuck yeah baby. Never felt someone as good as you.”

His heart pelted against his chest, you could feel it underneath in between your shoulder blades as yours felt as if it would explode from within. He played around with your womanhood until he firmly gripped your waist, thumbs pressing against your back as his fingers dig into your torso. He lifts you just a tad, before slamming you down against his clothed groin. He continues to buck up while bouncing you in a momentum that was out of this world. You gasped out a series of yelps, all in sync with his motions. “Pl-please!!! Please..!”

“Please what? WHAT?” He whispers as he buries his nose and lips into your ear. “Fucking tell me what you want. Let me hear it.”

You reach up and gently palm the back of his neck, struggling to move smoothly as the quaking aches of pleasure and desire took over your body. “Ugh…please…please give it to me…”

You can’t believe you just said that…

He smirks. “Oh yeah baby…don’t worry, I’m going to.” He reaches beneath you to unzip his trousers when a sudden knock causes you both to pause.

His growl told you of anger and frustration as he bites down and grits a groan. His hands emerge up and grip your waist, slightly shifting you forward.

You whine out, begging for him to keep going. You cup his chin as you continued to melt against his chest, grabbing onto his free hand and resting it on your pelvis. “Please…please…Heeseung.”

What he wouldn’t give to satisfy you right now. Times like this, he truly sympathizes for you, and wanted nothing more than to give you everything you asked for. He gently takes your hand in his, causing you ti release his chin as he places a kiss on your forehead. “Shhh…I know baby. I know.”

He would have dismissed the person outside the door, instead, he mentally kicks himself in the ass. He was the one who summoned the curator to help translate the book after all.

“Hello, Mr. Lee. My name is Johnathan, I am the curator from the national library, we spoke on the phone. You stated you needed some assistance in translating some family artifacts?”

The young man was polite and well mannered, not at all losing composure, even after seeing you sitting on your husband’s lap, legs widespread. At least Heeseung reinstated the hem of your dress, layering it over the exposed parts. Maybe Johnathan was not at all familiar with the image of sexual desire, but it would otherwise seem quite obvious.

“I am sorry I’m late.” He states as he sets his briefcase on his lap, flipping the gold latches up.

“Not as sorry as I am right now…” Heeseung mutters against your ear, wincing as you admitted small and subtle waving motions at the hip, grinding against his groin. The pulse of desire hasn’t worn off inside you.

“What was that Sir?” Johnathan peeks up with a look of curiosity.

“N-nothing. What can you tell us about this?” Heeseung firmly wraps an arm around your waist as he leans forward, taking the book from your hand and passing it over. You whined as your body shifts forward from the leaned in motion. “Don’t worry…i’m never going to let you fall baby.” He whispers into your ear after taking notice of your hands gripping his thigh, halting the sliding of your rear on his lap. Meanwhile the curator remained completely oblivious as he closely admires the book. “Ah, the literature contains the ancient tongue that the Greeks used early on. It is most notably communicated by philosophers. Perhaps a well known philosopher drafted this.”

Johnathan examines each lettering and symbol, placing a magnifying device to study the engravings.

“Clan of Adam…interesting, I haven’t heard of them. Has your grandfather ever mentioned this clan to you before?” He speaks without lifting his head, keeping his eyes glued to the wooden frame.

“Maybe a couple times in reference to this heirloom.” Heeseung calmly fibs. If there was one thing you both agreed on, it was to keep your ancestries, and the knowledge of, a secret. Excluding the current lesson that was now being taught of course.

“Interesting. It says here that the clan were all male descendants of the first sons…sons of—“

“Alexander.” Heeseung calmly finishes as he pinches his grip, tightening his hold on your waist the moment he spoke out the name.

“Yes that’s correct. Alexander the Great, king of Macedonia.”

The curator continues to look over the slats, rotating the book as he studied the diagram of constellations and Greek symbols. “It says that the first sons of Alexander were hidden away in a monastery, many miles away from their kingdom. They were known as the first of the clan…says here they displayed inhuman abilities.”

Johnathan chuckles. “I see, this seems to be a book that contains speculation of fiction and fantasy. It talks about them battling mermaids—ah, sirens, as they are commonly referred in this book.”

Heeseung’s member twitches at the historical mentioning of your ancestors. You felt the snake-like feature of his size slithering and flickering under your thigh, causing you to gasp.

“This particular page goes into detail about the clans genealogy traits…saying that it derived from their grandfather.”

“Grandfather?” Heeseung raises a brow as he keeps his eye on the curator, yet shifts his mouth to place a kiss against your cheek upon hearing a small whine escape your lips.

“Yes sir…it says here that the late King of Macedonia and his wife, Olympias, was bedded by Zeus. This was recorded in private to a monk residing in the kingdom, and journaled after the king passed. Alexander took over the throne and was exposed to the secret of his origin, by his mother.”

The curator chuckles in disbelief. “Well that would explain why the clan could take down mermaids.” He laughs as he jests, little does he know that everything he had just relayed was whole-heartedly true.

Your eyes widen as he unveiled the truth behind the clans whereabouts. Descendants of Zeus? No wonder they held such tremendous power and combative abilities. They were commonly known as Spartans of the Sea.

Heeseung, being a former SWAT captain, eluded those traits. You’ve witnessed his training sessions he maintained simply for fun. The way he moved, the way he maneuvered in water, and his stamina…it was Godly.

Zeus…Zeus was the true father of Alexander…

“And the sirens were all daughters of —“

“Poseidon…” you calmly interject. Heeseung faintly smirks as he admires your side profile. “Yes ma’am, that’s correct. Have you both read this book?” The curator asks earnestly, subtly surprised by your perfect translation and knowledge of what was inscribed in the book.

“We looked it over prior to your arrival.” Heeseung states.

“Wow…so you both can read Ancient Greek?”

You both stayed silent as Johnathan’s innocent smile slowly fades. A moment of awkwardness fills the room. “Well…anyhow…there was a war between humanity and the sirens, and the godly descendants produced by Zeus engaged, becoming a formidable opponent to the sirens. In fact, it says here that the clan nearly wiped out the entire ocean of them, causing them to go nearly extinct.”

Heeseung taps against your thigh, vaguely whispering for you to stand just for a moment as he thanks the curator for his time.

“I’m sorry to tell you this book hardly exposes factual knowledge regarding your family, however, you’ll be pleased to know that it is a genuine artifact that is priceless. Should you ever care to get an appraisal, please do not hesitate to call us.”

“Without hesitation. Thanks.” Heeseung places the book to the side as he sees the young man out.

You sat by the window.

Descendants of Zeus…and Poseidon…you, and Heeseung.

He cups your cheek, gently forcing you to face him. “That pretty head of yours thinking about the history lesson we just got?” He smirks as he kneels down before you, reaching up as he strokes your hair. “All that talk about Gods and our lineage got me thinking baby…”

You gave an inquiring expression. “About what?” You calmly issue as he pulls you in for a kiss, never divulging an answer. “You’ll see.”

…………….

“Welcome to Brewery’s Coffee, what can I get for you?”

“Tall chocolate cream latte, and a venti Americano.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the name for the order?”

“Heeseung.”

The barista labels the cups. Handing the receipt, she admires the devastatingly handsome stranger as he walks to a table. Something catches her eye as she ogles his neckline. A small mark, looked to be of a tattoo, printed nicely and centered on the back of his neck. It was symbolic in nature, though she had absolutely no idea of what it entailed. “Do you see that?” She whispers to a fellow co-worker. They both admire the mark, when the latter recognized the main structure of the symbol.

“Oh! That’s the symbol for Pisces. The symbol represents commitment, and togetherness for eternity. I’m a Pisces myself, but I don’t know what that small symbol to the right of it is supposed to be.”

Heeseung takes a seat across from you, admiring how you sat patiently while he ordered the drinks. Not like you didn’t really have a choice, although now it seems he did manage to tame the shrew. You found yourself accepting the concept of belonging to him, especially after reading the history of his lineage.

Taking your hand in his, he rubs the back of your palm with his thumb. “You didn’t feel a thing, did you?”

You shook your head. “Me neither.”

Of course he wouldn’t. He’s too damn strong, some needle punctures would hardly faze him. You reach up and delicately smooth the tips over the back of your neck, yet couldn’t even feel your own phalanges as you attempted to search for it. He chuckles before reaching across the table. “Here.”

He takes your fingers and places it on a certain spot behind your neck. “Right there baby.”

You still couldn’t feel anything, other than the brush of his knuckles as he guides you to the matching mark. The sign of Pisces, with the respective symbols of the Gods that fathered both your ancestries. His, with Zeus, and yours with Poseidon.

Combined and side by side, it would form the Union of love…the love that he inherited for you…the love that you were forced to adapt to.

It was entirely his idea, of course. You recalled how he vividly told you of the theory in Zeus transforming Aphrodite and Eros into fish, paired together so that they may escape from the clutches of Typhon, the monstrous being. You laid on your stomach as the artist took his time to delicately outline the unique features of the custom symbolic nature of love and commitment.

After coffee, he brings you back home where he had every sense of focus to finish what was started earlier.

“Come here.” He gently calls to you as he flips two fingers up and flickers them, signaling for you to respond to his calling. His voice was tamed and gentle. So very calm and sensual.

You kneel before him as he took his seat, holding onto your hand. You lean forward in between his manspreading legs, guided by the subtle grip of your chin. He lures you directly to his bulge. “My woman…my life…my everything.”

You knew what he wanted, and you would never admit it aloud, but you wanted it too. The pains of yearning never left, it remained lodged deep inside your womb even after the curator left.

You unzip his trousers. It didn’t take long for him to whip out his cock, waving it in front of your face as if he was teasing you with it. Like quenching thirst, you caught the very tip of it with your parted lips, immediately swallowing as many inches as possible—and there were many. The man was gifted, such was expected as the descendant of a mighty God.

He groans out, holding the base of his shaft for you, while encouraging you to keep going. He collects your strands, and grips it in unison. Holding up your poneytail, there, in full view was the beautiful tattoo…his other half. Resting in the same spot as his, it nearly glows. He watches and maintains sight of it as you continue to bob for his girth.

“Thatta girl…keep going darling…get it while you can, I’m about to conquer you.”

You swipe your head up and down, motioning it with a sensual passion that could only be found in a love like this. One that was filled with so many contradictions, yet hold so much history. And with that history, came progression and transcendence. It was both frustrating and peaceful. Forceful, and yet consensual. It was…it was…

“Fuck! Get over here.”

“H-Heeseung!” You gasped outright as he used his god-like strength and lifts you up. He stands tall and straight, leaving you suspended in air against his chest as he grips your thighs, forcing you to straddle his groin. You hug his neck, embracing it against your breasts as you remain higher up while he cradles your rear, stabilizing his hold. Slowly…slowly, the moment you breached for all day, he finally inserts his stiffed muscle in between your slit. “Oh my God..!” You breathe out as he breaks you, inch by inch. The feeling was so different from the other day. This was different. The painful yearning that pounded your womb from within, sending tingles up your spine, and released a rushing flow of blood through your veins. All you could think about was being touched, being fucked, and being kissed over and over again, and he was the only one who could give it. The key to your release.

“Ah! P-please! Oh god please don’t stop!”

The very second he sat you against the hilt of his pelvic floor, he began thrusting at a phenomenal pace. God, was he perfect. He was so good, you just couldn’t contain yourself as it slipped…

“B-babe! Baby please!”

He pauses for just a second as he smirks against your neck. Did he just hear you call him ‘baby’?

He continues to grin as he slowly pumps up into you.

Realizing just what you had done, you found it useless to make excuses or to continue to fight it. Finally, after all that he’s done to trap and torment you mentally, he finally had you…all of you. You wave the white flag and surrendered. If it wasn’t in the endearing pet name that you sputtered out, it was in the tightening of your embrace as you pulled him close, thighs shaking and your derrière jiggling from the quivering jolts of pleasure…so good, it hurt like Hell.

“Say it again.” He snarls against your skin as he licks the underside of your chin. You shook your head, wincing your eyes as you refused initially, but he had his ways to make you give in.

One, two, three…no, four. Five! God…maybe it was twenty times, or more, he held you firmly and smacks his cock inside. It was brutally pleasing as he thrusts upwards, splattering the juices of his labor—and yours, everywhere. The offensive sound of his cock squeezing, squelching, and sliding in and out as his balls smack against your skin while he went in fast and hard, causing you to scream. Your mind blows away as you absorb his rhythm. “Ah! Fuck! Baby!”

There, he got what he wanted, and did he ever love it. He could hear you call him that, over and over again. And he did.

The undercarriage of your buttocks were painted with white, thick splatters of creamy and sticky fluids. The constant and solid tempo of his thrusts acted as a beater, stirring the semi-clear residue and turning it into a thicker consistency. A product of the love you both shared.

You scream out his name, gasping for air as the soft spot inside you releases, all thanks to the constant punching of his tip, and the pounding of his thick and lengthy cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders, the overstimulation makes you beg for him to tone it down but he doesn’t.

“TAKE IT!!!” He yells out against your skin as he holds and squeezes your cheeks together, creating a bubbling image of skin and muscle as your derrière becomes abused by the harsh grip.

Shooting everything he’s got inside, he holds you steady, burying deep. Pelvis to pelvis, hilt to hilt, you feel the pressure of his grip holding you down against his groin. A few minutes of his cock pulsating, pumping, and pushing, he finally loosens his grip. You slide down, legs still grasping his waist as he embraces your waistline, tumbling back. Bringing you down with him, he lays next to you on the silky bedding.

You both lay, admiring each others glistening skin. The beads of sweat dripping down your foreheads, the heat exhausting from your breaths, and the panting and heaving of your chests.

He pushes the wet strands away from your brow, leaning in and kissing you so passionately, he would have done his deity ancestor proud.

“…I love you.” You mutter out, nearly shamelessly and defeatedly.

He smirks as he gulps down a subtle swallow, already knowing, just waiting for you to say it. “I know.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, instead, you look away as he caresses your cheek, not minding the shyness you were displaying. “I could never be anything in life without you…daughter of the seven seas…you got me all to yourself. I live only for you.”

And with that, concluded this night, but birthed many more. This was only the beginning, what new life exists for you both? Now that you have each other…

And so the war between the Adams and Sirens came to an end, resulting in generations that mirrored the forbidden love between the two descendants. Mixing the bloodlines of Poseidon and Zeus, the clan formatted the ultimate beings, part God and part mortal. Despite the many rumors of the hostility the two parties initially held against each other, let it be known that no matter the history…no matter the bloodshed…by the prime example of sea maidens and sons of Alexander the Great, love conquers all.

@hoonieshoney and @sweeheehees 😏 they not cry or explode. Because I certainly almost did both when imagining heedam….BRO JUST TOPPED THE LIST.

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enha x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #yandere heeseung imagines #heeseung yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenario #Heeseung fantasy #enhypen fantasy #fantasy fics #dark fantasy #yandere imagines #yandere fantasy #Spotify

[thesuperiorrobin]

➳ Reminder that all of these are Female reader insert

MASTERLIST 2!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── one shots ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ꨄ | If looks could kill |

⤷ Your jealous gets sense by your husband, and he reassures you your his one and only

ꨄ sorrow letters|

⤷ you’re Reality will always beat your fantasy’s

ꨄ |A goal made with love|

⤷ HockeyPlayer!Damian shows his love for you through a goal, proving why you should always attend his games

ꨄ Animal love

⤷ Damien’s trained his pet to be ruthless to other people he didn’t like. But they like you

ꨄ Better

⤷after a horrible time at Homecoming, Robin tries to comfort

ꨄ Transportation

⤷ You two end up taking the bus instead of calling Alfred to pick you both up at night.

ꨄ Flowers do not equal love

⤷ Damian comes storming into his lovers flower shop asking for flowers either negative meaning for someone special

ꨄ Ice ice baby

⤷HockeyPlayer Damian; Teachers reader how to ice stake but it doesn’t go as planned.

ꨄ Slipped out his mind

⤷ Damian Wayne forgets a planned date with reader and Robin is there to comfort her

ꨄ Safe and sound

⤷ Damian Al Ghul recalls the safety of his wife

ꨄ Winter season

⤷ Nanny! Reader helps Single Dad! Damian set up the Christmas with his children while he’s locked away in his office. The Christmas list has a surprise!

ꨄ Trustworthy

⤷ The reader is a damsel in distress

ꨄ Long awaited

⤷ Damian hates being away from you. And it pains him when he’s away for more than a day.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Headcannons ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ʚɞ Damian’s high vocabulary

ʚɞ Damian and weird nicknames

ʚɞ Streamer!Damian Wayne

ʚɞ Types of kisses

ʚɞ Platonic jealousy headcannon

ʚɞ Potential love troupes?

ʚɞ Horror movies

ʚɞ Healing for tongue action

ʚɞ Single dad Damian Wayne

ʚɞ In a world of boys he's a gentleman

ʚɞ S/O that eats a lot

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── scenarios─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

‹𝟹 Damian’s rough night

‹𝟹 Shaving Damian beard

‹𝟹 Damian and pierced ears

‹𝟹 Learning to love 

‹𝟹 Sound sleep

‹𝟹 Cats and birds

‹𝟹 Worst nightmare

‹𝟹 Lip plumper vs Damian

‹𝟹 Moving on is hard

‹𝟹 Studying hard

‹𝟹 Softly new

‹𝟹 Green lace

‹𝟹 Peel orange theory

I feel like I’m missing something

But anyway here’s the second part of my Masterlist 🤗

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian scenarios

[copperbadge]

Immediate Writer's Block

Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:

constant-state-of-self-discovery Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol

I do have some advice on this!

I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.

An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.

Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.

And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.

So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.

#writing #constant-state-of-self-discovery #writer's block #inspiration #archive

[flight0fthenavigat0r]

A Goodbye to The Bad Batch

I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.

One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.

This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.

It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.

Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.

The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.

But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.

At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.

But then I started The Bad Batch.

I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.

I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.

I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.

I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.

What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.

That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.

That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.

That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.

That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.

That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.

That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.

That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.

My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.

But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.

It's very difficult to believe that this is it.

Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.

I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.

We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.

Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.

The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.

Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.

“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb #star wars tbb #sw the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #tbb crosshair #crosshair tbb #crosshair bad batch #tbb tech #tech tbb #tech bad batch #tbb wrecker #wrecker tbb #wrecker bad batch #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #hunter bad batch #tbb echo #echo tbb #echo bad batch #tbb omega #omega tbb #omega bad batch

[couldtransitionsaveher]

it seems like a lot of people treat the polls like they were asking "should she transition" and that's really annoying to me. these characters are transitioning anyway. it's only asking if it would save her (and honestly for most of these characters transitioning would not fix their problems. i dont think estrogen would prevent a zombie outbreak. maybe it should though)

Saving doesn't necessarily need to be saving from material conditions, it could also be an emotional saving. If I may borrow your zombie outbreak example, let's say that there exists a terminally depressed zombie apocalypse survivor named Boyd Mulder. Obviously, if Boyd Mulder stumbled across a VHS instructional video on how to brew estrogen at home, this obviously wouldn't end zombie-itis. However, if Mulder knew that she could make a better life for herself, maybe she'd fight just a little harder to pursue that life. Maybe she'd reach out to more survivors to acquire the resources she needs. Maybe she'd develop a series of larger goals to work towards beyond just finding food to eat and a place to sleep. A couple years in, she may have even made a proper life for herself beyond just survival-- something she didn't even have before the outbreak.

Is that not in its own way salvation?

That's how I understand it, anyway.

#mod post #mod answers #tw depression #tw zombies

[thecuddlycauldron]

Pick a card!

What do I need to focus on next month?

✩°｡🧸𓏲⋆.🧺𖦹 ₊˚ These are general readings, only take what resonates and leave the rest! These are only meant to be for fun and nothing else. Trust your intuition and don't overthink. If nothing resonates, feel free to move on. If you stay, I hope you enjoy what the cards have in store for you today! ✩°｡🧸𓏲⋆.🧺𖦹 ₊˚

🪺 Card 1 (Queen of wands)

The queen of wands symbolizes energy, enthusiasm, and a strong sense of determination. Explore your creative side and pursue activities that ignite your passion. Whether it's art, writing, or any other form of expression - let your creativity flow freely. Believe in yourself and your abilities. Don't be afraid to assert yourself and stand up for what you believe in. Your confidence will inspire others to follow your lead. Focus on endeavors that truly excite you by investing your time and energy into projects that align with your passions and bring you joy. Maintain a positive outlook and approach challenges with optimism and trust that you have the inner strength and resilience to overcome any obstacles that may arise.

🪺 Card 2 (Page of wands)

The page of wands represents excitement, exploration, and the pursuit of new opportunities. It suggests that you should focus on embracing a spirit of adventure and being open to new experiences. This could involve trying out new hobbies, learning something new, or embarking on a journey of self-discovery. Step out of your comfort zone and take bold actions towards your goals. Don't let fear hold you back from pursuing what excites you. Embrace the unknown with courage and enthusiasm. Try to eek inspiration from your surroundings and the people you encounter. Pay attention to the signs and synchronicities that may be guiding you towards your next adventure or opportunity.

🪺 Card 3 (4 of cups)

The four of cups indicates feelings of apathy, discontentment, or boredom. It suggests that you may be feeling emotionally stagnant or disconnected from your surroundings. However, it also serves as a reminder to look inward and reevaluate your perspective. Shift your focus from what you perceive as lacking to what you already have in your life. Try to take time to address any underlying feelings of discontentment or dissatisfaction and reflect on the root causes of these emotions and consider seeking support from friends, family, etc. Use this period of emotional introspection to gain insight into your desires, aspirations, and personal values. Consider whether your current path aligns with your authentic self and make any necessary adjustments to realign with your true purpose.

Love, Willow

・⊹₊˖𓂃 ・ 🐌🌿🍄🌿🐌 ・ 𓂃˖₊⊹・

In-depth & fair priced readings on my esty!

・⊹₊˖𓂃 ・ 🐌🌿🍄🌿🐌 ・ 𓂃˖₊⊹・

#pac tarot #pac reading #pac tarot reading #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a card tarot #tarot witch #tarot #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #free tarot #free tarot readings #tarot reading #my tarot reading #tarot community #witch blog #witch community #witchy #witchblr #witchcore #witches #witchcraft #poc witch #woc witch

[ruporas]

Hey sorry if I’m being annoying but. I see posts of dungeon meshi every so often and I came across your harpy piece (which is AMAZING btw) but why does falin (I think that’s her name) turn into a harpy?? If you know please spoil me I just I have to know if it’s doomed yuri or not

haha not annoying at all! here’s my debrief of it

important thing to note is that Falin dies in episode 1, like first minute, she is dead and the entire journey is about defeating the red dragon that killed her in order to revive her before she gets fully digested. long story short, she DID get digested with only her bones and strands of hair as her remains which makes standard resurrection impossible, but marcille is then revealed to been studying ancient/black magic and is able to revive falin using monster parts aka the now defeated and dead red dragon. falin gets revived, they’re happy for a night and talking about going back to the surface with the rest of the party, yay!

the dungeon lord senses a disturbance after his red dragon is killed though and shows up. in resurrecting falin, the red dragon’s soul had intermingled with hers so she ends up being overtaken by the dragon’s soul upon the dungeon lord’s appearance and strictly follows his orders from then on. next time she shows up in front of the party, she ruthlessly kills/injures half the people they were with and showed basically no falin-ness in battle except for a brief moment with laios (which i assumed was bait).

that’s how falin gets turned into a chimera! there were harpies that showed up with her in the recent ep, but she herself is like. a weird dragon chicken thing.

i should also note marcille and falin are childhood friends, they’re very close to one another and marcille, despite the odds, adamantly joined laios in getting falin back. i think the importance falin has in marcille’s life has been enforced so falin becoming half monster, alive but not as herself entirely and becoming wrapped in a situation where they must defeat the Dungeon Lord in order to get her back (potentially) is kind of devastating. and in the recent episode, laios nor marcille knew how to approach falin, they just knew they didn’t want/couldn’t hurt her. this entire situation is new in their world, it’s not certain whether falin will ever return to herself. they’ll continue onward in the journey, but everything is probable! so not 100% doomed, but still, devastating.

the manga is finished so i highly recommend reading it if you’re curious about what happens. i feel like the yuri is better enjoyed if you know more about the world and of marcille’s character too, because her goals and desires makes everything she has to experience a bit more tragic. if not the manga, then definitely the anime!! watching it is very fun and i believe they’ll stop the anime at a good point. but anyway i hope this answers your question! ^_^

#asks #uhhhhh. iguess this is more in depth ill tag this as #dungeon meshi spoilers #no spoilers of the manga though just the anime #but if u havent read/watch dunmeshi #go do it!! it’s very good. i can’t explain it better than how the author portrays it all

[the-catboy-minyan]

are you aware that hamas was funded by Bibi?

my pinned post is temporarily unpinned because if my new main but like. yeah. I'm aware. I am very much anti-Netanyahu.

did you know this before October? i knew it for years, and not only that the man is a literal criminal and most of his government is consistent of criminals. he shouldn't be in charge.

what does knowing Netanyahu gave Hamas money tell you except that Netanyahu is bad? does it make Hamas's actions any less horrific? does it mean he's actually controlling Hamas and is personally responsible for October 7? it tells you he funded them. because he's a fucking wannabe dictator who needs to make sure his enemy is alive so he can scare the population into voting him.

but Hamas' goal is to literally eradicate all Jews, they said it on live tv multiple times. they see Palestinian civilians as human fodder and that the more people die the more they can justify their cause. I hope I don't have to remind you, but an organisation that is acting as your government usually shouldn't want you dead.

Netanyahu bad ≠ all Israeli civilians are evil or Israel as a state is inherently evil and should be destroyed. Netanyahu bad = fucking dismantle the government already and put someone descent in charge.

Americans elected Trump. fucking Trump. and you're judging our sorry excuse of a prime minister, when at least we had an actual political crisis over it trying to kick him out.

#asks #i/p #fuck netanyahu

[solitary-traveler]

Ascent to Oblivion part 1 - airborne embrace

The heart imposes how one should act. How they should feel. So how can a puppet constructed without a heart exhibit such distinct qualities?

Notes: This one is very self-indulgent. I swear I wish there was an option to catch him during this scene—

Warning: reader is not traveler btw, slight angst?

A heart is regarded as a mirror that reflects someone’s soul. A sovereign ruler that ordains decrees that the body is meant to follow. 

The heart imposes how one should act. How they should feel.

So how can a puppet constructed without a heart exhibit such distinct qualities?

He doesn't have a soul, nor a heart for that matter. Yet Scaramouche doesn’t fail to display the epitome of humanity. The emotions he claims are cursed act as a substitute; an artificial heart that ushers him in the direction of the deepest desires that he sought after. It spreads within his body like a burning infection, leaving a bitter taste of rage and fury that will never be quelled. Come hell or high water, his resolve never wavers. His ambition to prove to everyone that he is destined for more perseveres. He sprints to his goal like a marathon. To conclude his journey and prove to his mother that he has always been worthy of the gnosis.

That was your understanding of the 6th Harbinger, the Balladeer.

You stand beside the Traveler, along with the Archon of Wisdom you had liberated earlier. You encounter the rising "god" of Sumeru—the existence of who you know as Scaramouche—as he presents himself as the Shouki no Kami, the Prodigal, Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom. A long drawn-out battle that persisted 168 loops before you and the Traveler snatch victory from the harbinger.

You were tired and on the verge of collapsing. Bruises and scars are scattered across every nook and cranny of your skin. Yet despite everything—every word, every truth, every lie—you can't bring yourself to hate him. 

You wanted to hate him.

But why couldn't you?

Was it because you felt pity? Because the solicitude of his sorrows softened the fortification encircling your heart? 

Or was it because sympathized with him? Maybe you too knew how it felt when the cruel jaws of life gnaw on the strings that control destiny, only to give birth to nothing but misery and hatred toward the world?

Your heart throbs. Was this the one you were supposed to hate? A misguided child who grew up hating himself and everyone around him because of accidents he interpreted as his fault?

As you looked up, you saw the electro gnosis in Nahida's possession. The puppet yells, an anguished wail of cries as every word laced with desperation begs to have the gnosis back.

"No! Anything but the gnosis!"

"That's mine!"

It was strange. Watching someone like Scaramouche throw away their pride and dignity, just for one measly gnosis. A gnosis that shaped his entire identity. An item he's been promised when he was fabricated, a promise the Raiden Shogun never kept. 

Scaramouche's slender arms extend to seize the gnosis, to grasp the adhesive that was holding up his fragmented individuality. One by one, the tubes embedded in him fracture. Pink liquid sloshed out like waves, smearing pigments on the platform. But he couldn't care less. He wanted the gnosis. He needed it. With a hushed click, your eyes widened.

He fell.

And you jumped.

Despite the burning sensation of the wounds you had accumulated from the puppet, you rise without hesitation as the overwhelming urge to catch him coursed through your veins. You create a whirlwind that propels you in his direction, with the aid of your anemo vision. Time itself decelerates as you can only hope to reach him. You were praying to any go out there that you haven't miscalculated.

One.

Your arms wrap around Scaramouche, cradling him closely to you. You caught him. Thank the archons you caught him. 

Two.

You were to land swiftly on the ground—but having exerted the last of your energy—your touchdown wasn't as smooth or graceful as you had hoped. Your feet slipped, causing you and the harbinger in your arms to skid towards the rubble of rocks. Even then, you squeezed him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Three.

A deafening crash resounds in the domain as you smash into the massive debris. But your clutch doesn't waver. You held the puppet in your arms, a testament of your newfound will to protect him. To keep him safe. You could no longer watch him be cheated out of everything good. He deserves some peace, a tranquility you were willing to give. In spite of your best efforts to remain awake and asses how Scaramouche was faring, your brain started to deprive you of your consciousness.

Four.

A hand clutches your clothes firmly, as you feel the cold porcelain pressed against your skin. Before you collapse into an unconscious state, you overhear a broken sob. A sound only those with a shattered soul can let out.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact fanfic #scaramouche #scara fanfic #the balladeer #genshin scara #scara x reader #scara x y/n #scaramouche x reader #gender nuetral reader #genshin x reader #wanderer genshin #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer #wanderer x y/n #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #scaramouche fanfic #wanderer fanfic #scaramouche brainrot #i just want to catch him #hoyoverse please

[nunalastor]

Hello! Continuation of Snow White + Tangled AU (@grimfeywizard suggested "Findling Charlie AU" and I liked it, thank you), set right after Alastor scolds Lucifer.

Two months. It only took Lucifer two months to ruin things with his daughter. Is it pathetic to think that it was an achievement?

He doesn't really understand what he did so wrong, but after that kidnapper, that sinner dared to scold him like that, Lucifer can't help but think that he should reevaluate his interactions with his daughter.

First there were the gifts. He had to make up for so many birthdays, he was determined to keep his goal at least one a day, but he probably overwhelmed his daughter.

Secondly, his daughter's business. He didn't understand, he didn't see the reason why his daughter would want to do that charity work. Of course, his daughter would have a good heart no matter what, but he never saw sinners as anything else than what they already were, absolute monsters, and after his daughter was taken, his opinion only worsened.

Third, their interactions. Since finding her he has treasured every second he has spent with her...but he is ashamed to admit that he doesn't remember much of what they talked about. She was always so cheerful and had a beautiful smile on her face, and he couldn't help but daydream that this was exactly how it should always be. And unfortunately that meant he wasn't really listening to her, too focused on looking for any resemblance between them.

Fourth, and least important, the sinner, the overlord, Alastor, the Radio Demon, or whatever his name was, the damn kidnapper. He was always there, even when he didn't see him, he just knew he was there, whether doing his job as the hotel host or acting as a guard dog, keeping an eye on them from a distance when he was with HIS daughter. Lucifer wanted to enjoy his time with his daughter, but he couldn't help but want to tear off the sinner's head or make some comment to provoke a reaction in the kidnapper, perhaps in this way Lucifer would get the sinner to reveal himself as he really was and his daughter would like to get away from her kidnapper.

He was so wrong.

That day he simply...couldn't wait any longer. He wanted his daughter to come home with him, he wanted to show her her room and help her decorate it. He wanted to get her away from these sinners, from her kidnapper, who were clearly putting ideas in her head just to take advantage of her.

It was exactly what he told her, he just wanted her to realize how bad this whole situation was. But the look in his daughter's eyes, her frown, her smile fading, seeing her taking a step away from him.

He didn't realize when he opened the portal to his palace, he didn't realize that he was trying to reach her. He only realized his words when he had the kidnapper in front of him.

"Don't act like nothing happened, like almost 100 years haven't passed."

"Don't you dare dismiss her ideas, as if she were a girl who knows nothing about life when she formed them by seeing the situation up close."

Lucifer understood the message when the sinner began to recount moments of his life with Charlie. The sinner wanted to say "I am not a good person, but I have been her father."

Lucifer wanted to be angry, he wanted to tell the kidnapper that it was his fault, that he shouldn't have taken his daughter, but he listened, he felt the sincerity in his words. He saw her daughter hug that sinner, and he saw how the sinner eyes and that creepy perpetual smile softened.

"Stop acting like a wallet and start acting like a father."

What could he respond to that? He only takes the things that the sinner gave him. When he crossed the portal to his palace he felt cold, he realized that until that day his daughter had not hugged him.

"Take your time to get to know Charlie."

The first thing he sees is the clothes, the ones she was wearing the last time he saw her. He himself put his daughter in that pretty blue dress, adorned with a duckling on the chest, as if it were swimming in a pond. "Charlie" sewing in white letters just below the duckling.

The second thing he sees is the basket. A black basket with a red blanket. The sinner kept saying that he found Charlie in a basket. He never believed a word, but the basket looks worn, it doesn't look like something someone would acquire just to decorate their lie.

Then look at the books, a photo album and a scrapbook. In both there are brief messages written in crayons next to the photographs or memories. It feels like he's reading a diary. Look carefully at each photograph, moments in his daughter's life, in Charlie's life, her birthdays, places she went ("Aunt Rosie's emporium, the rose bushes of pride, in front of the angelic embassy"), people she met ("Grandpa Zestial is taller than Dad, Aunt Carmilla and her daughters are lovely, Niftty followed Dad home, Dad says Husker can be my pet since he won't give me a puppie"). In the scrapbook were some entries to "Lulu's World" ("Best day, thank you daddy" written in pink crayon. "Quite a pleasure, my deer" written in black pencil and a smiley face drawn on the side), the photo of an expensive diamond necklace, next to a diamond from said necklace glued to the side (the drawing of an angry face in pink crayon, "Brilliant things are not the same as brilliant minds" written in black pencil).

He spends his time carefully studying each page of both books. He thinks he can understand where he was wrong.

He is concentrated, he does not notice the passage of time, and when he reaches the end of both books, when he has already thought of a thousand apologies, he sees a piece of paper in the back of the scrapbook.

It's a note that says "Take care of her" signed by someone he never thought he would hear from again.

Every thought escapes his mind, the only thing he knows now are two things.

First, the sinner, Alastor, told him the truth.

Second, he must contact Roo.

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #snow white #tangled #tangled au #alastor #radioapple #lucifer

[devouredbyflame]

Being so afraid of being wrong that you can’t move is actually the worst thing you could do for your practice.

You aren’t imposing on anyone.

You aren’t insulting the Gods. Arguably, you don’t actually know what would be considered insulting unless you’ve actually asked Them.

You’re not going to be beaten up and told you are the worst devotee ever.

You aren’t going to be told by any Deity you are morally imbalanced or impure.

The only thing the Gods are actually concerned with is the ability to get you to listen to Them which means peeling away layers and layers of trauma, biases, and patterns that take you away from Them. They would not forcibly remove you from Their attentions just because you wanted to try something new or do something that no one else is doing.

The ultimate goal of any Divine relationship for either side should always be to draw nearer to Them, not be pushed away because your discernment is inaccurate while you are learning.

#deity work #devotional polytheism #mysticism #norse gods #norse paganism #norse polytheism #paganblr #deity worship #lokean #pagan blog #divine communication #oracular divination #discernment #deity communication #deity devotion #devotional mysticism #mystic #norse heathen #heathenry #norse deities #norse pagan #polytheism

[paigehughes28]

Luke Hughes~Fate

Backstory: you are friends the Sturniolo triplets and you guys go to a New Jersey Devils hockey game and you run into Luke afterwards by accident

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Liked by christophersturniolo, matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo, and 549,500 others

yn_diangelo: off to a Devils game with my boys🫶🏼

Tagged: christophersturniolo, matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo

christophersturniolo we should be going to a Bruins game not this

| yn_diangelo you have your team and I have mine Chris😐

nicolassturniolo gorgeousssss

| yn_diangelo Thank you Nick🫶🏼

| nicolassturniolo always

User1 omg are you gonna meet Luke?!

| yn_diangelo sadly no

matthew.sturniolo 👥👥❤️✔️

Liked by yn_diangelo

User2 take pictures for us!

| yn_diangelo planned on it!

———————————————————————————

As Nick, Matt, Chris, and I got to the Prudential Center Matt parked the car and we got out. As we were walking to the stadium I smiled and got all giddy. “You all excited about seeing Luke Hughessss?” Matt teased me and I glared at him playfully. “Yes but I’m also happy to see my whole team play and watch them kick the Maple Leafs asses.” I said now with a smile as we walked in through the doors. We showed the front people our tickets then walked to our seats. Right behind the Devils bench. Warm ups started and I took some pictures of the Devils coming out and them doing warm ups. I was specifically eyeing Luke which I guess the triplets noticed cause they all sent me a smirk when I looked over at them. I snapped a quick picture of Nico at the bench beforeI put my phone back in my pocket then the game started. I watched intently as it started and the Maple Leafs had the puck. Marner passed it to Matthews who tried to score but it was blocked by Jake Allen. “Yeah!!” I, the triplets, and all the other Devils fans stood up screaming cheering the Devils on. After that we sat back down when the Devils had the puck. At the final minute of first period Nico scored the first goal of the game. I cheered them on as loud as I could as the timer went out for first period. Both teams went back to the locker room and soon second period came and went. The score was currently tied at 2-2. “Don’t worry y/n. They’re going to win, I’m sure of it.” Chris said placing a hand on my shoulder as he noticed me getting worried as third period started and I looked over at him. “Even if I may not exactly like this team.” He whispered and I laughed a little. I turned my head back towards the game to pay attention to it. Jack had the puck, he passed it to Dawson, who passed it to Luke. Luke is skating towards the goal when suddenly Matthews comes out of nowhere and slams into him. Almost the whole arena stood up shocked at what happened as Luke fell onto the ice holding his arm in pain. Jack skated over almost punching Matthews but the refs stopped him before he could. “Let Jack fucking punch his ass!” I yelled angrily as all the other Devils fans yelled in agreement. The refs made Matthews go to the penalty box as Jack followed his brother to the locker room. As they went by I glanced over at Luke who just happened to look up as I did and we made eye contact. I looked away and sat back down. “He better be okay or so help me god.” I muttered angrily only so I and the triplets could and the game went on and the Devils had a power play. Holtz scored the Devils third goal during the power play and closer to the end up the period Luke came back out and was playing again. As the timer ran out ending the game the Devils won 3-2. “Go out to eat now?” Nick asked and I nodded as the four of us got out navigating through the crowd back to the car and headed to a restaurant near by.

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Liked by sturniolo.triplets, njdevils, nhl, and 498,870 others

yn_diangelo: took some picture of the Devils before the game started during warm ups

njdevils it was nice seeing you and the Sturniolo triplets there all the way from Boston!

| yn_diangelo anything for my home team!

Liked by njdevils

christophersturniolo you guys should have seen her when Luke got hurt by Matthews, she was LIVID

| yn_diangelo damn right I was that’s my favorite player😭

yn_diangelo was followed by njdevils, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, nicohischier, and nhl

———————————————————————————

“Oh my god!” I screamed in the car looking at my phone at who just followed me. “What happened?” Nick asked leaning over to look at my phone. “Oh my god!” Nick also screamed. “What?” Chris asked confused looking back at us while Matt gave a confused look through the rear view mirror. “The New Jersey Devils, Jack Hughes, Quinn Hughes, Nico Hischier, and nhl just followed me on instagram.” I said still in shock from what I saw on my instagram. Luke was the only Hughes brother to not follow me but who was I to complain too much? I just had three hockey players follow me, the nhl follow me, and a hockey team follow me. “Let me see.” Chris said as we pulled into the restaurant parking lot. I gave him my phone to look. “No way.” He said looking at my phone then showing Matt who had the same reaction. He handed back my phone to me and I put it back in my pocket. “We’re eating outside. Grab a seat while I get our orders.” I told the boys as we got out the car. “Got it.” They said and walked ahead of me to get inside and find a seat while I went to order our food at the register. We come here all the time when in New Jersey so I already knew what to get. I ordered our food and thanked the cashier giving her a tip then turned around to go find the boys when I bumped into someone. A very tall someone because my face slammed right into their chest. “Luke you’ve done did it again. Walking right into people.” I hear a voice say laughing as the man whose name I’m assuming is Luke grabs my waist as I almost fell to keep me up. I look up at the man and my jaw drops. It’s Luke Hughes. “I… uh..” I stutter and curse at myself for stuttering but blushing madly as he still has his hands gripping my waist, also realizing I still had on a Luke Hughes jersey. He lets go and I almost miss the touch. “Hey, you’re the girl at the game that Luke made eye contact with when he got injured and wouldn’t shut up about right? The one I followed on instagram?” A voice asks and I look to see Jack Hughes. “Yeah I am.” I say giving an awkward smile. “I was not talking about her!” Luke whisper yelled at Jack as his face turned red. “Sure.” Jack said sarcastically and I laughed awkwardly. “Well it was nice to meet the both of you despite uh… how it happened but I have to get back to my friends.” I said scratching the back of my neck. “Yeah.. have a good rest of the night.” Luke says with a small smile and I smile back. “You too.” I say walking away to find the triplets as I’m blushing fiercely. I find them and sit down across from Nick and Chris, next to Matt. “What happened to make you blush like that?” All three asked at the same time. “I may or may not have quite literally ran into Luke Hughes.” I said trying to stop blushing but it wouldn’t work. “Tell us the rest.” Nick said and I groaned. “I almost fell and he had grabbed me by the waist and Jack recognized me and might’ve revealed that Luke wouldn’t shut up about me after we made eye contact after he got injured.” I said then put a hand over my mouth to cover my smile and blush. Chris took a photo of me like that and I glared at him. “Someone’s gonna get their selves a boyfriend.” Matt teased poking my side. “No I’m not.” I said hitting him in the arm playfully. They came out with our food soon after and we ate indulging in a conversation as two or three of the Hughes brothers came outside and sat down near us. I looked over to see Luke already staring at me. We both smile and I swear I see him also blush then we look away. All of a sudden I got a notification from instagram.

lhughes_06 has followed you

A/n: I hope you guys enjoyed that for my first imagine! There will be a part two soon to this.

#jackhughes #new jersey devils #newjerseydevils #luke hughes #lukehughes #imagine #hockey men

[split-spectrum]

Concessions

Chapter 3

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Tags: SMUT (MDNI), oral sex (male receiving), orgasm denial, dubcon, noncon, Obi Wan gets chained to the wall and edged within an inch of his life

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that prevents him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him.

☆☆☆

You should end this. 

For the sake of your friendship. For the promise you'd made to help him finish the Nikkama. For your own sanity. You should really end the call. But it seems too cruel, now, after what you've done. 

When you'd sent the pictures, the most you'd expected out of him had been irritation. Your goal had been to disrupt his thoughts; possibly to ruin his day with distraction, the way he'd ruined yours. Revenge may not be the Jedi way, but sometimes with Obi Wan it's so difficult not to give in to the urge to tease; to toy with him. Now, the only question left is how far you're willing to go to atone.

The right thing to do would be to shut off your commlink. To look into his glassy eyes, ignore his indecent, combative gaze, and click that impossibly merciful button. But no matter how long your finger rests at it, you can't bring yourself to press down. 

Obi Wan hasn't said another word. He's hardly moved. But what little patience may have remained in his expression when he'd answered is now gone. The deep blue of his irises is hidden within the gradient of the hologram, but the black of his stretched pupils is easy to pick up when he widens his eyes accusingly. As if to say, "Well?"

He's waiting, against his will, to be put out of his misery. Cut him loose; end the call, or...

"Give me a moment."

You shut off your commlink before he can respond, then dress yourself, tying your robes with clumsy, hurried fingers, and slip quietly out into the hallway.

Trying to remain true to your promise of only a moment while keeping your footsteps soft enough not to wake any of the other Jedi in their quarters, you reach Obi Wan's door, rapping twice before he opens it. You find him in a state of half-undress, trousers fastened at his waist, but mid-section still bare. He's pulled his arms through his light undershirt, still working on wrapping it around his torso and tucking it as he steps back from the door to let you in. 

"You're dressed," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady as you walk forward, closing the distance between you. "I said I would only be a moment."

He finishes tucking his shirt, the open neckline still giving ample view of the soft curls that are begging you to run your hands over his chest. "Yes, but a moment for what, you didn't quite say."

You look down his body, backing him toward the corner of a wooden dresser near the doorway. You line your hips up with his, watching as he mirrors you, either consciously or subconsciously. "You're awfully clever, Obi Wan. Let's not pretend it wasn't obvious."

His bright pink lips hang slightly open when he stares down at your hands, traveling upward. The blush begins to creep into his face. "I... couldn't possibly be so presumptuous."

Your hands find his stomach, your noses now inches apart, and the soft smirk on your face evaporates when you draw your gaze back up to his. Using your thumb to peel open his shirt, you loosen it from his waistband and slide your other hand across the warmth of his skin, feeling him shudder at the contact. 

Your lips naturally gravitate towards his, when suddenly a thought stops you painfully short: This isn't a passion-soaked tryst between two lovers. This isn't the closing of a romance that's long been harbored beneath the working partnership of two friends. This is you, helping him find relief, and nothing more. 

You drag your eyes away from his mouth, down to his neck, and the urge gushes to taste the skin there, too. Instead, you pull back while turning your hand down into his waistband. His eyes, which had been fixed on your face, roll to the ceiling. 

"You shouldn't-" He shifts, rubbing up against the dresser. "This is hardly-" he tries, not finishing either thought. 

One of his hands comes up to the small of your back, touching you with a respectful lack of weight or pressure, somewhere between holding you closer and warning you off. When you slither your palm between his legs and stroke it over the hot, dribbling length of him, though, he changes his grip. He grabs your waist and squeezes, looking down between your bodies, watching you touch him. 

You hadn't realized until now just how much you'd wanted his hands on you. Feeling him grip you hard, pulling you closer as his hips start to shallowly draw up with each pull of your hand - you're starting to ache. Bending the fingers of your other hand around the fabric, you start to pull down his trousers. 

His hand flies to your wrist, and you freeze. His eyes are closed, his breaths shallow. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. 

"No," he pants. "No, we- we can't."

He opens his eyes and you nearly pull away before you catch the way he's looking at you. It's clear he's being serious. But there's also... something else. A certain kind of frustration; almost desperation. 

You flatten your hand, grazing it over him, watching his eyes go foggy and his brows knead tight. He doesn't let go of your wrist, but he doesn't pull away. 

Suddenly, it all makes sense - why he chose you to help him in this; to be his witness. 

He trusts you. And more importantly, he knows you. He knows that when he needs it, you'll find a way to bend the rules, while allowing him to keep his lofty ideals intact. Because you've done it in the past, time and time again.

Though he'd never admit it, your willingness to compromise has often been an asset to him. You could skirt the rules, blurring the edges of the safe, moral choices, while he got to feign uninvolvement. Whether intentional or not, he'd chosen you because some part of him knew this.

And lucky for him, you know a path you can take, just as you always do. 

"Obi Wan, let me ask you something," you say, enjoying the unsteady breath he takes when you slide your thumb slowly up and down his shaft. "Do you trust me?"

You graze his head, then slip your hand away, and he drops your wrist, immediately gripping the edge of the dresser behind him. He gathers himself, and eventually, he nods. "Yes. Of course."

You straighten up, fixing his clothing back in place. "I hope you're not about to change your mind. Because I have an idea."

--

A few minutes later, after you've convinced him into one of the small cargo ships the jedi temple keeps on hand for communal use, Obi Wan is no further enlightened on the details, and he's starting to lose patience. 

"And why can you not just tell me the location?"

You force an easy smile, though your stomach is buzzing with anticipation. You need him to have faith that you know what you're doing. And you do. You convince yourself that you do. "I already gave you the coordinates."

You'd sent them directly from your commlink to the navicomputer, yet Obi Wan had insisted on flying manually. He glances down at the screen in front of him, with glowing numbers and no map. "Yes, somewhere in the Federal District. Very helpful. Is there a reason you haven't chosen to be more specific?"

With a smirk, you answer, "As I said before, you're clever enough to know the answer to that."

He glances out the window, clearly suppressing a scowl, then brings his attention back to the lane in front of him, shifting a hand to adjust his speed. "In other words, I won't like it."

You press your lips together, watching the shadows roll over him as you speed through the flashing lights of Coruscant nightlife.

"I never said that." You pause. "But you certainly wouldn't approve of it."

He shoots you another look, then brings his gaze forward again as you reach your destination. He can't take his eyes away from the monitor since he's in the middle of landing, but his scowl grows more pronounced. The Center for Republic Military Operations looms in front of you. 

"What in blazes are we doing here?"

"I thought you were trusting me."

He follows you down the ramp, keeping his voice low. "Yes, but the extent of my trust is rather proportional to the circumstance." He nods at a passing Coruscant Guard solider, then catches up to you. "And at the moment, they're about even."

You just smile. "Good. I can work with that."

You turn to enter the main building, Obi Wan trailing close behind. More soliders pass you on either side of the hallway as you make your way to security check-in. You walk past the manned stations and head straight to the automated keycard wall. You find the number you're looking for and enter your security code.

"You've dragged me here to work an extra shift in the detention cells?"

At that, you can't help but smile wider. You pick up the key card when it appears in the slot, then brush past him to head down the hallway. "In a manner of speaking."

You get the attention of one of the guardsmen as you near the end of the cell block. "Officer, we're conducting an investigation and we need to inspect cell 98. Please tell the other guards we are not to be disturbed."

The guard accepts your orders, assuring you they'll be passed along, and continues on his way. You swipe the keycard and, hesitatingly, Obi Wan follows you inside. You look both ways down the hall before closing the door, double-checking the lock. 

"Well, if you were looking for privacy, you've certainly found it, but that wasn't-"

"I wasn't looking for privacy," you interrupt, stepping toward him and reaching out. He looks around warily, but allows you closer. You take his wrists in your hands, walking him back. "I thought about what you said."

He raises his brows, saying nothing as you clasp around him gently at first, then start to firm your grip. "I do want to help you through this." 

His eyes widen and he glances behind you to the empty walls of the cell. "You don't need to-"

"Oh, I know that," you tell him sweetly, then press his arms upward. 

He pushes back, shaking his head as his back hits the wall. He hisses your name in admonishment. "The cams."

"Are broken," you assure him, lifting his arms above his head as his resistance lessens. "And the cells are soundproof, as you know."

"How do you-"

You activate the switch on the wall beside his hands. "I was down here last week with Master Sinube. We had to move some prisoners and we couldn't use this cell for that reason." The binders glow softly above Obi Wan's head. "Cams won't be fixed until next week."

He follows your gaze upward and a beat of silence passes. You wait for him to protest. You wait for him to rip his arms down and push you off. But all he does is drop his gaze and let out a low breath of air. The sound he makes, sighing softly through his nose, is disapproving, but the intensity of his stare betrays what he really wants. 

You press the button, locking the binders around his wrists, then stare back at him, watching the emotions swirl in his eyes. It's like you can see him traveling through all the same thoughts you'd had when this idea had come to you back in his quarters.

In any other scenario he would be giving in. He'd be at fault for not stopping you. But now... You've taken away his choice. You've lifted that burden from his shoulders. All he can do is protest. And you're ready to see if he's willing to do so, or pretend innocence as he's done so many times before.

You sink to your knees in front of him, sliding your palms down to his thighs, then running your hands up beneath his tunic. Your fingers curl at his waist, slowly dragging his clothes down, and you feel his cock twitch when you graze your thumb over the bunched fabric. You snap your eyes up, waiting from him to say the word. 

His chest is rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. His eyes are piercing you with an aching, tight-jawed, guilty look. But he's silent.

Overwhelmingly, obliteratingly silent. 

You finally free him, staring with an obscene lack of restraint at the glossy river of precum soaking down the side of his dick. 

"Oh," you murmur softly. "Obi Wan..."

At the edge of your view, you see his eyes flutter heavily when you say his name. You gently settle your fingers around him, enjoying his soft breath of relief. Sliding your thumb up along his shaft, you spread out the slick, coating more of his skin. 

This should be a utilitarian exercise in urgency. You should be using your hand to get him off, hard and fast. But you left 'should' behind a long time ago. So you slowly turn your wrist, pumping your hand a few times, not with any real pressure, just for the pleasure of running up and down the full length of him. Then you lick your palm and do it again, listening to him suck air above you. 

You swallow, caught gazing up at him, and have to urge yourself to keep going. You want to go slow; wring out of him every carnal desire he's pent up for the last several months. But you're already pushing it by drawing it out this long, and part of you is still afraid he'll ask you to stop. 

When you finally lower your mouth to his pulsing, straining cockhead, you suck at the tip, flicking your eyes up to look at him again. His hairline is dark with sweat and he's panting like he's losing an agonizing battle. You lock onto his gaze and flatten your tongue to lap slowly at the slit of his cock, watching his eyes widen as your mouth drops open to swirl lazy circles. 

"You taste so good," you drawl before slipping your lips around him, suckling softly. 

"Ah- hmm..." That earns you a sound something like a sudden, abrupt hum. Like he's trying to get ahold of himself before words begin to fall out. 

You drag your lips back up to the tip, then spread them wide and push his head inside the wet heat of your mouth. He goes rigid. Closing your eyes, you focus on giving him all the warm, soft pressure he needs. You engulf his thick head like he's going to pull away at any moment, hollowing your cheeks to suck him sweetly, realizing to your dismay that you could do this for hours.

When you open your throat and take him deeper at last, he rewards you with a loud, plaintive groan. He hits the back of your throat, making you gag for a moment, tears springing to your eyes. You squeeze your legs together, soaking between them, and swallow his twitching cock. You make a small sound in the back of your throat as you wrap your hand around him and start to bob your head, one hand pushing into the back of his leg to bring him closer and the other hand drowning in your own spit, pressed tight below your mouth and running over the length of him as you find your rhythm. 

"Stars-" he grinds out. You open your throat and take him even deeper, watching his mouth fall open at first, and then watching him snap it shut to look down at you, face screwed up in a pained expression. His eyes crinkle hard at the edges and his brows pin together, a deep line creasing his face between them. 

"This feel good?" you pop your mouth off for a moment to ask him. "You can tell me."

You slide him back in, falling right back into your rhythm, waiting for an answer. But he says nothing. You want to be generous. You want to keep going. In fact, nothing could possibly make you want to stop. But you need to hear him say it just once. You won't be doing this again, and you can't pass up your one chance to hear him say that he liked it. That he wanted it. 

You feel his cock throb beneath your tongue, but he doesn't answer. You pull away again, pumping him with your hand. 

"Come on." You lower your voice. "You can say it."

His teeth are just visible when he opens his mouth, almost baring them at you. His gaze is somewhere between warning and pleading. 

"Tell me it feels good, Obi Wan." You're practically suffocating him with your mouth between interrogations, now. You squeeze him with your slippery hand, lips gliding over him in punishing, repetitive strokes. 

You gasp off, panting, "Does it feel good?"

"Yes," he moans. 

You're practically dripping, pulsing between your legs at the hoarse groan he lets out. You can't help it. You want to hear more. You pull off again. 

"Would you like me to keep going?"

His head lolls to the side and a harsh sigh escapes from deep in his chest, as if to say you know the answer. As if he's scolding you for asking it, and desperate not to reply. 

So you relent, and you give him back the slick, perfect heat of your mouth until he's bucking his hips softly with each dip of your head to meet you, and you look up again to see the wrecked look on his face. His cock is pulsing, his breath wild and ragged. It's like he's ready to come, but for some reason, he's holding back. 

Then you realize it. You haven't told him, and he can't ask.

"Mmf," you mumble, pulling his cock free of your mouth one last time to tell him, "You can come in my mouth, just like this. Please. Come down my throat."

"Oh, fucking-" he spits out, then seems to melt into your grip, hips falling out of rhythm as his head tilts up-

...only to snap it back down, his body curling in and shuddering violently to a stop when the door lock clicks open. 

His cock pops free of your mouth, bouncing when he jerks away, and you're already standing up and scrambling to put his clothes in place before your mind can fully register what's going on. 

The door swings open just as you desperately slap the button to free Obi Wan's hands and straighten your own clothes. A pair of soldiers look extremely surprised to see you. 

"Master Jedi," one of them says, trading his looks between you and Obi Wan, clearly not sure whom to address first. "I... I didn't know this cell was, um, occupied."

You take a step to the side, trying to block anything unprofessional in Obi Wan's appearance. "Yes, I checked in and gave orders not to disturb us. We are... investigating the... presence of the criminal who occupied this cell last week."

"I see," the guard answers. He doesn't seem suspicious to find you here. They both just seem put-off by your jumpy demeanor. 

"Yes, so if you would be so kind as to-"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, no one told us the orders. I've escorted the security technician down here to work on fixing the cams. I'm afraid you'll need to come back later."

"Oh, I..." you trail off.

"That's quite alright, gentlemen," Obi Wan finishes for you. "We can report our findings thus far. Have a nice evening."

He gestures calmly toward the door and you obediently join him in leaving, grateful for the end of the conversation. 

It's a long, stiff, quiet walk down the hallway. Thankfully, you don't cross paths with anyone else on the way out. You're nearly at the other end of the hall before you dare to lean in and whisper, "We can, um... We still have the ship."

He gives you a quick head shake in response, and you can feel the frustration in it. "For thirty more minutes before Master Fisto will be looking for it. We need to have it back at the dock before the next shift."

You take a breath, realizing that wasn't a 'no'. 

"Well," you say slowly; carefully. "We still have your quarters."

Back at his quarters, he can't pretend innocence anymore, but perhaps you've pushed him past that.

You wait. And wait. And he doesn't answer. 

And you board the ship. And he doesn't answer. 

And when you land back at the dock a few minutes later, you realize: He's given you his answer. 

--

A/N: The next chapter might be the last; possibly two more, depending on how long it ends up. Please feel free to comment or message me to be added to the tag list. :)

Taglist: @slinkygail @wheres-mylove @millercontracting @cacti5539 @b0xerdancer-writes

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#obi wan x reader smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #fanfic #obiwan #obi wan x reader

[earlyh0minid]

another rizz tip is avoid answering questions literally. if someone asks u a question and you're trying to have fun (which should be your goal... in a convo, most ppl are only trying to exchange info and look cool... these ppl are rizzless. don't be like them. your big priorities should be entertaining yourself and putting the other person at ease. in that order), the most fun answer is probably not the literal one. of course you can't always think of something clever and funny or cute, so it's perfectly fine to answer earnestly, but always be looking for other opportunities. the non-literal answer is usually more charming

[dawnbreakersgaze]

So I know most people understand otome is fantasy and these situations are fake but I've seen an uptick in folks being sad that they'll never find their 'perfect Dr. Zayne' or whatever because "men aren't like that"

I'm here to tell you that there are actual men out there who will see that you had a shit day, fuck you until you can't remember your name, carry you to the shower, lovingly wash you, help you get dressed, go buy you boba tea, make you dinner, and let you sit in the comfy chair all night while you cackle like a gremlin about silly internet things.

That shit IS real. Don't be discouraged. You too can have these things and I promise they're out there for you ♡

#besties i just want you to know you dont have to feel like this is unattainable #this SHOULD BE YOUR GOAL not your “if only” #kay's personal #kay's mumbles #i dont ever go personal on here but yall are breaking my heart talking about “settling for less than” im crying for yall #you deserve this #if he aint leaving you wobbly and then buying you boba you find someone who will- you hear me? #auntie Kay has spoken