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blueiight · 8 months

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theres this quote running around from jacob anderson where he talks about how historically black people have been removed from period dramas and how, as suggested by the interviewer (w/ blueiight embellishment ofc), the very few times black charas would show up in these period pieces theyd be side characters delegated to a raceblind narratively incoherent plot to placate an audience ashamed with / of the nuances of blackness. i rly like how he said louis’s character represents both a ‘black and very human story about a vampire… [Black people] do not usually have the opportunity to play such complex and fluent characters’. i think that brings to heart a lot of why this show has my heart, as an armchair historian and r.n. (dont ask what that stands for). u racebent characters in a way that coheres, situate ur black characters in a specific context, and the story never deludes us into thinking the mere existence of an interracial relationship is enough to end racism. in e2 louis literally says “fledgling sounds like slave, dont call me that” and e3 starts with louis telling lestat the history of dismembering runaway enslaved ppl & placing their bodies on the gates of of jackson square.. in his initiation to vampirism, louis is moved from the historically Black creole treme area he grew up in & is placed into lestat’s townhome in the very white, french, old quarter. vampirism as hes initiated into is a loving, powerful, cruel, and isolating existence for louis. bc of vampirism he is able to kill a racist person and not be lynched for it, hes able to echo the historical dismemberment on the alderman by placing his body on the st louis cathedral, but he is unable to kill racist groups & systems that initiate race riots. his connection to claudia in s1 is not so much by the oedipal, but by both their connection as lestat’s fledglings and as Black [creole] people placed in a part of the city largely alien to them both. this connection can be broken down even further. louis saw claudia as his joychild of sorts, ‘[his] redemption’ for his 5 years of pimping but a big part of her tragedy is that a child being made into a vampire cannot redeem anyone, much less redeem an individual from what was a historical inevitability. claudia is adopted into such a stature that she wouldve otherwise never reached by virtue of being made a vampire, but even then that is conditional. claudia is rendered inert from being anyone’s ‘wife’ forever trapped in the confines of immaturity as a ‘daughter’, only hoping at best to be louis’s ‘sister’ and isnt that resonant to bw.. she’s selectively infantilized both a child ‘meddling in the affairs of her parents’ , ungrateful, arrogant, and adultified - presumed powerful enough to ‘poison louis against [lestat]’ , taking on the role of louis’s ‘knight in vengeful white black’ .. the response lestat has to claudia is characterized by him continuing the cycle of abuse he once faced toward her and with a black claudia who was once a poor girl now adopted into this immortal luxury it takes on a racialized element. “bach is beyond you” and claudia bites back with “yes this french music is hmm. not made for these mongrel ears”. the absence of metaphor is striking!! literally the fact that this show does not shy away from the era its set in is why its so good.

#yn.#iwtv #louis de pointe du lac #claudia #family from hell #Wait its more than 5 years. whats 5 (mortal) + 7(vampire) years

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iwishf1wasreal · 1 month

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NSFW F1 Driver Profiles: ✴ Max Verstappen ✴

smut ✴ 18+ readers only please

I. Flirt.

He’s not exactly known as a certified rizzster, but he does carry that Champion’s confidence and aura of success everywhere he goes. That usually works in his favour, but he would only approach if he were solidly in his own element. You’re a guest in the garage? Perfect. You’ve stumbled into the club where he’s having his birthday party in the VIP section? No problem, he’ll get you through the ropes. He’s much better at flirting once he’s in a relationship and you’ve established rapport and trust. He would rather be quiet than look stupid, which pretty much dissipates once you’re officially dating. Then, he’s more than glad to look like an idiot in front of you, especially if it will make you laugh.

II. Propositioning.

He’s honest and extremely blunt. Straight up asks “do you want to have sex right now?” or “can we fuck when we get back to the hotel?” He purposefully enjoys saying it explicitly in front of someone, so it will instantly have your cheeks burning and your eyes furiously glaring at him. Max likes riling you up. He also likes that you smack or kick him in reaction. Then you yell at him about being a true menace to society or punctuate your whacks with You’re! So! Crude! And then he just has to make good on the accusation, doesn’t he?

III. Libido.

It's pretty high. If you ended up fucking every time he felt like it, it might end up being two or three times a day. This isn’t to say that can’t or hasn’t been achieved, but it's not exactly practical when he has such a meticulously timed day, down to the approximate minute he must be asleep. But he’d roll his eyes if you ever told him that you considered him a sexual person. It’s not that he doesn’t think he is; it's just that the entire concept of sexual person seems redundant to him. Humans are sexual. Humans have the animal urge to procreate; therefore, it’s built into the human experience. It just seems like an unnecessary distinction to him. But he craves sex; he loves it and is constantly either thinking about it or talking about it. Despite this, he still has the audacity to turn to you and shape his mouth to say, “oh, so you.” with an evil smirk when he finds out what the word ‘nymphomaniac’ means.

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty.

Tame: Your exposed neck. String bikinis. A thong’s whale tail. When your Dutch isn’t half bad. Back massages. Treating you to nice things. Referring to his cats as your own. When you stand behind him whilst he’s sitting and run your hands down the planes of his body. That time he somehow was able to go to Oktoberfest, and you wore that traditional dress (he’s honestly never stopped thinking about your titties in it). Coming and straddling his lap when he calls you over. When you subconsciously reach for him in the middle of the night. Ignoring other men in favour of paying him attention. Calling him a world champion. Whenever you let him hang all over you.

Nasty: Spanking. The way your ass ripples after getting spanked. Watching you undress while he remains fully clothed. Telling you what to do and filming it. Sundress and no panties. Your scent after sex. You taking control. Your hand around his throat. Nudes taken with his trophies. Cumming on your chest. Doing it in the dark with the big hotel windows open and city lights twinkling. Threesomes but only with another woman...for now. When you talk him through a handjob/blowjob and an orgasm (sometimes he likes it if you’re a little mean, too). When he does something embarrassing or awkward during sex and you just sweep his hair out of his eyes and laugh because it’s no big deal.

V. Self-stimulation.

Porn is definitely an option for Max. He won’t be forthright with it, but he’s seen his fair share of the degrading, aggressive stuff. Obviously, you’d wring his neck if you found out that not only is a multi-millionaire too cheap to pay for his porn, but he’s freeriding on the most misogynist content he could find. Well, now that he’s a spoken-for man, he has a hard time keeping it up for women who aren’t you. It’s like he’s imprinted on you; he can only finish if he lets his memory/imagination or private folder on his phone take over. He’s not above a midnight call to you—really no regard for whatever you might be doing (and that’s kinda part of the fun)---all whiny and horny and begging you to at least stay on the line while he strokes off.

VI. Foreplay.

He lowkey needs foreplay. His ego would never let him admit it, but sex is quite emotional for him. Max has never really excelled with one-night stands because he either finds himself not caring enough or caring too much. He felt like things changed between you once you started sleeping together–in the best way possible. Of course, there are occasions when you’re both just raring and pawing at each other as fast as you can. But generally, he likes to be warmed up and tended to, too. Dry humping is always a good time for him, and he likes watching you work your hips against him (and the patch of wetness that always transfers from your clothes to his) He’s also a big kisser. During sex, before, after, or without even thinking about sex, he wants to kiss you. Likes the heat of your breath, the soft feel of your tongue. Anywhere. Everywhere.

VII. Rhythm.

To be honest, because of his headstrong tendencies and fast-paced thinking, it’s sort of become your job to set the rhythm. It’s not even that he wants to take you fast and hard; he just kind of…does. Even when he’s in a romantic headspace, he can just have a hard time slowing down and enjoying the moment. It’s not really a surprise to you. It’s the same way he is in every other part of his life. He doesn’t always realise that the habit of trying to speed through his least favourite parts of life has bled over into rushing through some of the good things too. No need to worry, though. The slow rock of your hips, the sweetness of your voice, and the patience in your hands is all he really needs. Maybe that’s why even thinking about sex with someone else is hard. You just get him. You take care of him. You give him exactly what he needs.

VIII. How He Likes It.

Personally, he likes it deep. Especially because you are usually in more controlling positions. The eye contact, the kisses, the dirty talk. It’s just so much better. His favourite would be any variation on cowgirl (equally fond of front-facing and reverse–for titties and ass, respectively). He feels best in what some might call the chair position, where you’ll sit on his lap as he sits on the bed or a chair. In this position, he can hit your g-spot almost certainly while one of his hands works your clit. He’ll kiss down your shoulder, your cheek, your neck while your hands roam his thighs and your own body, reaching down to feel the two of you connecting. He’s somewhat willing to try new things but only for so long til he’s huffing and just whining for you to crawl on his lap and take over.

IX. Location, location, location.

Craziest is probably in an alleyway behind a club. Really only is deemed the craziest because of how many close calls you had while trying to do it. You both know it would be a disaster if anyone found out; however… There are not usually many people wandering the streets at 3am and with so many restrictions with his fame and so much alcohol in your systems, it wasn’t that hard to convince you to give it a go. However, his favourite ‘place’ you’ve ever had sex is, for sure, the post-win blowjob he gets after every win. Obviously, some wins are more key than others, so you’ll do the best you can to create unique experiences for him each time. But honestly, he doesn’t really care. Just needs the warmth of your mouth and the shine of pride in your eyes when he’s finished. He also fantasises about Private Jet sex, even came close a few times when he still owned his. But the prophecy was not complete without you.

X. Kink.

Pretty kinky. He’s down to try a lot but also has hard boundaries he has no issue expressing. He can be sweet and gentle and loving just as much as he can be rough and aggressive. He’s pretty good at catering to what you both feel at the moment. If you need him to go softer or just want to feel him better, nuzzling your face shyly into his neck with a soft whine of the request, he’s instantly adapting to what you want. It’s not that you’re “in charge”; he just really wants to please you. Or, if the mood strikes and you feel turned on by the clench in his jaw and the frustration of his voice, you’re more than willing to ask him to take it all out on you. And he can give you that too. The biggest fantasy fulfilled is probably after-race sex of any variety, even with his press officer banging incessantly on the locked door while you try and make use of the three whole minutes you have until his trainer comes back with the key. Despite how common it is, he’s not really into the Daddy or Mommy kink. He’d never outright say it, but he’s got enough mommy and daddy issues; he doesn’t need to confuse his psyche by bringing you into the mix, too.

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys

Feels pretty neutral about toys. Again, his common sense kind of takes over, and he gets why you need it. Does hold on to some hope that you don’t use it while he’s home and he’s readily available. Though if he is gaming all day and won’t tear himself way…Sometimes you’ll just set up the vibrator to rattle loudly against the headboard, so he knows what you’re doing. Almost always, he’ll get off the game and come play with you instead. He likes a lot of lube, if available. If he could squeeze some more ooey gooey stuff all over you just to make it nastier and wetter, he would.

XII. Cum.

He’s messy finisher. Not just on you but generally. He doesn’t care about messing up the bed or leaving too much evidence. To him, it’s sex; how are you supposed to control yourself during it? What, like people, can actually plan where they’ll cum? Perhaps it’s because he grew up relatively wealthy, or he’s just gotten used to people picking up after him. The number of times he’d told you, “just leave it, babe. The maids will get it.” while you scoff horrified at him. You make sure he realises his mistake, flinging whatever soiled garment at his face.

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation.

He’ll go down on you if you’re into it. He tends to think he’s probably a little bit better than he is, but he’s not bad. If anything, he’s got a passion and dedication for it. He likes the feeling of making you finish quickly or making you feel so good you can’t even keep your eyes open. He’s experienced but still clumsy. He knows his way around (mostly) but likes it better when you tell him what feels good or react to what he’s doing. He doesn’t have enough patience to keep the focus on you for /forever/ so he’s not one to spend hours down there but you get your fair share.

XIV. Bonus.

Once you had sex in front of two of his friends who were touching themselves. It kinda just happened. You were out glamping for some EDM festival in Europe, pretending to have the humility of camping with all the five star amenities you could need. It was in the early hours of the morning after you’d been partying all night. One of them had complimented you, telling Max he was lucky to have a girlfriend like you. Then, Max kissed you. Never a huge fan of PDA, you always followed his lead on how much he wanted to show to the public. But then his hand was up yours skirt and when you broke away, he used his strength against you to pull you closer and kiss down your neck. Max was two fingers deep into you by the time you even remembered his friends were in the room. He told you to talk them through it, just like you did for him. But you couldn’t. First, the pads of his fingers had reached deep and found the spot that made it hard to thing, let alone talk. You weren’t much of an instructor, mumbling a few cues before popping the button on Max’s pants and pulling him free. He was breathing heavy and hard in your ear, moans muffled against your skin as you faced his friends. They’d fully thrown themselves into to pleasure, hands wrapped around their dicks and stroking in the same deseperate rhythm you were working with Max. As you neared an orgasm, you spread your legs, giving his friends a better view of how he filled you. It drove Max crazy, he moaned against your neck, a cocky laugh coming off the end of it. His friends finished before you–unable to keep up with the pace you and Max had set. Then, Max who helped you ride out your own after him, brain only malfunctioning a few times as you milked him into overstimulation. He made sure to show off how he’d finished inside you to his friends. Then the two of you just showered and went to bed like it never happened.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fic #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #profile*#mv

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thoughtsforsoob · 3 months

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ways he shows he loves you - stray kids

a/n: I want to write more to stray kids so here you go! I know I have a bunch of request at the moment and while I do plan on getting to them, I have to allow myself some freedom to create what I want as well! please enjoy and as always, requests are open and so is my 200 event!! (omg im past 300 now and I am so incredibly grateful! thank you so freaking much!)

bang chan - taking you home

I feel like chan considers taking you home as a huge step in your relationship, since ehe seems to love home so much.

he has a nice connection with his family so for you to go meet them means he's basically already planning the wedding

he likes to take you to places he remembers from when he was little (which are probably not too many places because he was just a little guy when he started training)

he also loves to make plans for you, his mom and his sisters hang out together

"you three go out! im paying for girls day"

he enjoys seeing pictures of his favorite people out, having fun together and getting along

the only thing he doesn't enjoy 100% is the teasing that collectively happens between you and his siblings against him but he doesn't;t mind it in the end because it just means you're comfortable with them and vice versa

and when he watches you and berry meeting for the first time...again...wedding bells are going off in his head

minho - supporting your hobbies

I don't see him as someone who is veery comfortable with just saying I love you all the time so he pressers to show it instead of say it

his way of doing so is by getting interested in your hobbies and most likely participating in them

lets just say you're a big fan of collection photo cards and trading! along with that, you also like to make bracelets for concerts! (lmao so cliche but this is what I can explain best! feel free to insert your own interests during the following!)

he definitely buys you albums all the time and when you don't pull him from a stray kids album, he rolls his eyes and keeps buying more until you pull him

he also loves watching you pack trades so he goes stationary shopping with you and buys you the cutest packing materials

he even packs a few trades for you and sneaks in a bunch of extra stickers and other freebies

he will also partake in bracelet making every time you attend a concert!

he loves sitting at the table, making bracelets with pretty beads (he insists on buying you the fancy glass beads for this project), watching a drama and eating snacks.

just seeing you happy and in your element and being able to support it is how he shows his love.

changbin - planning dates

idk about you guys but I feel like guys always leave it to their girlfriend to plan dates and come up with date ideas all the time

changbin is the exception

he knows all of the spots in the city and wants to take you to all of them eventually

he has a running list in a little journal he purchased when he first met you and started going on dates with you

he writes down the names of places he wants to take you to and crosses them out in highlighter when you eventually go so you can still see what he'd written down

he plans trips that vary anywhere from 2 weeks in LA to a evening picnic by the river

his favorite are "spontaneous dates" (in quotation marks because to him, no date is really spontaneous. he always puts some work into it, even if it's a late night run to the convenience store or a trip to the mall)

he's always navigating and making sure everything is perfect

his favorite part of the date is when you praise him for being so thoughtful and creative

he is so happy that he's impressing you and making you happy

he promises to himself that even when you both are old and grey, he's still going to sweet you off your feet with his amazing date ideas

hyunjin - remembers everything you tell him

(no bc...when people remember details about me I feel so happy)

anyways, he is such a good listener and pays attention to detail

whenever you mention something in passing, he makes a note of it mentally or if he knows he'll forget, he will write is down in his notes app

one example of this is during one exam season

2 weeks ago, you had told him bout your finals schedule and when it would start

on the first day, right at 6am he shows up with your favorite coffee order (or anything else if you don't drink coffee) and your favorite breakfast! along with a care package for the rest of finals!

the care package includes: two hoodies of his, you favorite candies, chips, ramyeon, and a couple other things he knew you'd find useful

he remember you telling him you had to get up at that hour to start getting ready for your 8am calc final

when he shows you, you damn near cry because of his thoughtfulness

he eats breakfast with you and makes sure your fueled up and able to focus on your test so you can ace it

the way he also thinks about you when he's out doing things like shopping

Oh I brought you back some eggs because I remember you said you didn't have anymore. also, this new toner because I noticed yours was running low last time I stayed the night."

jisung - never letting you pay

his love language is essentially paying for everything he can for you

if you deny him and tell him you're going to pay, just the thought of you doing something he is more than willing to do for yo has smoke coming out of his eyes like a cartoon character

oh boy and when you actually beat him and pay, he is red in the face

"sungie, I just paid for two coffee's. why are you all red like that?"

"I could've paid! now you have to let me pay for the next 100 things we get together!"

you roll his eyes at him when he makes these silly compromises with you and just rolls with it

for him, it's not that he thinks you can't pay for yourself because ehe knows you are more than capable

if anything, he's proud that his baby is an independent person and can take care of themselves

the reason he does it because he wants you to save your money and spend it on things for you and he wants to take care of you this being the best way he knows how

oh my god...

god forbid you buy him any gifts

he's all flustered and whining about how you shouldn't "waste your money" on him

after talking with him, he lets you pay sometimes but it's rare

felix - matching jewelry

it's all fun and games until you both get exposed...

before we go there, let's talk about how this started

for your first anniversary, Felix wanted to give you something special but had no ides what it should be

he was scrolling through TikTok one night and he came across a repost from you and it gave him the perfect idea

you reposed a couples post about a necklace with the bf's initial on it and he immediately got one made

you better believe hat we went to a famous custom designer and everything to get this made just the way he knew you'd love it

you gives it to you on your anniversary and to your surprise, not only do you have a "f" on your necklace, he get's a matching necklace with your initial on it...

he can't wear it out much but he always put's it on in private

one day...little sunshine over here has to leave to the airport with the group for an overseas concert and he forgets to take off the damn necklace...

"WHO IS (y/i)?" stays are going wild online and trying to find out who it is

from now on, Felix is more careful but now everyone knows his secret :0

seungmin - bring affectionate in front of others

look, this boy is not very affectionate, much less in front of other people

he's a very 'behind closed doors' type of person

when it comes to you though...he's not afraid to show his affection

the first time you noticed it was when he first invited you to meet his member at the dorm for dinner and movie night

he picked you up and brought you inside

you greet all of the members but right afterwards, he immediately just starts to cling to you

he has a hand on your thigh during dinner and during some shot periods, he's actually straight up holding your hand while eating

the boys look at him like he's finally gone insane and you're looking at him with such a confused expression

finally, jeongin of all people, breaks the silence

"hyung? I know you like (y/n) a lot but you're not letting her eat by holding her hand."

his face goes red because he's been caught and he lets go of your hand, putting a low apology to you

when the movie portion of the night comes around, he insists on your sitting right on his lap but if you decline, he is sitting so close next to you that he's literally going to merge into your body

jeongin - sharing clothing/shopping with you

(cw: I know not everyone feels comfy with the idea of sharing clothes for whatever reason and it's totally valid so I made two different options here!)

as we all know, jeongin loves fashion and anything that has to do with it

it's only natural that he wants to involve you into his hobby!

he wants to dress you up all the time!

sometimes, he'll drag you to his room and start to pick items from his closet to replace what you're already wearing...

you have to glare at him so he won't change your whole outfit

he also loves to take you shopping!

he walks into every store with you and asks your opinion on everything because he knows you're actually the one wearing it so you have to like these items too!

shopping can be a very stressful and traumatic experience for some people (ME!)

he understands if this is the case for you and tries his best to give you all the time you need and not overwhelm you with trying too many things on at once and not showing you 101 options all at once

if you don't like how something fits, he will never pressure you to show him anyway

he also never pressures you to go shopping if you're not in the correct headspace for it

there is always assurance from him that no matter what, he loves the way you look in clothes you both pick together!

he also loves to take ootd pics of you and he lets you take his!

he def never pressures you to do this either if you don't wanna

his soft launch of you is a pick of your latest ootd together but your face has a cute little fox sticker over it :D

#stray kids headcanons #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids headcannon #skz fluff #skz texts #skz #skz imagines #chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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saradika · 30 days

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— invisible string

din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader

rated e - 1.7k

tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements

a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You feel as if you are always out of step.

Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.

As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.

As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.

You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.

But you're not sure what to do with this.

The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.

Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.

The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.

After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.

To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.

Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.

Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.

It’s not your problem.

Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.

You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.

There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.

Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.

It’s nice.

It follows you, back to your room.

You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.

Somehow you know it’s out there.

But it's not time.

The next day, your ship takes off again.

There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.

Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.

It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.

You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.

There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.

But you still go out, day after day.

It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.

It should frighten you… but it doesn't.

It feels like an inevitability.

Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.

"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.

And it's him.

There's something about him, this man.

You're not sure what that something is...

But think you are finally ready to find out.

His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.

You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.

Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.

For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.

You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?

And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.

An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.

Had grieved with him, after.

You think this had been your place all along.

This liminal space, in those months that follow.

Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.

It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.

But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.

He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.

Before it’s just him and you.

His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.

Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.

You think he did. He does.

And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.

Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.

The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.

“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”

“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”

He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.

Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.

Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.

To leave you, again.

But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.

And in the dark - he stays.

“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”

His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.

Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.

But you had left early, and he had came late.

“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”

There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.

“Yes.”

It is enough, for now.

You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.

Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…

You think that he would feel it, too.

thanks so much for reading!! 💖

cyare - beloved

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #ts drabble challenge #din djarin imagine

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exhaslo · 15 days

Text

Corruption Ch18 (End)

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15, Ch16, Ch17

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, public sex, creampie, breeding kink

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

D-Day

The weather was chilly as the first heavy snow of the season finally started to flutter. Your eyes sparkled as you watched from Miguel's office window, adoring the view of the city. The city of Nueva York was beautiful before you.

Shivering slightly as you touched the window, you started to wonder if you were going to be okay for tonight. You had found out that Miguel was now Spider-Man. He secretly enhanced himself somehow and was doing who knows what.

"Yet he says I can't be a hero," You said with a soft pout.

Returning to your seat on Miguel's desk, you started to tap away on your tablet. A whimper escaping your throat as you rubbed your legs together. Miguel had been consuming both your body and mind and it was showing.

Trying to focus back on your work, you started to think about how Miguel was at home. He was such a romantic. Always taking care of you, pleasuring you and treating you like a queen. It felt so strange from someone who loved to torture people.

"(Y/N), I have another meeting in a half hour, correct?" Miguel asked as he quickly entered his office.

You snapped out of your dazed state and checked the tablet. Agreeing to his comment, you watched as Miguel cussed lowly and grabbed a drink from his fridge. Jumping off the desk, you approached Miguel and stroked his cheek,

"Are you okay? Do your eyes bother you?" You asked out of concern.

"Hah, still so worried about me," Miguel said with a smirk, "You need to start focusing on yourself."

"Mhm, it's pretty cold today," You cooed softly.

Miguel stroked your cheek before grabbing your hand. He had you follow him to the lab that was destroyed from the explosion a while back. It was being rebuilt rather quickly. To your surprise, Miguel had Lyla activate a tablet that was locked away.

"Until I set up a second location for a secret lab, this will be where I conduct my experiments for our Spider powers," Miguel said in a whisper and showed you the tablet, "Starting with a suit for you that generates warmth."

"Oh! Miguel!" You smiled brightly, hugging your boyfriend, "How long have you been designing this?"

"Since I found out," Miguel said honestly as he pulled out the suit, "You're going to need it for tonight."

You jumped in glee, pecking Miguel's cheek as you went to observe your new suit. It had some subtle changes, but nothing that you truly worried about. Miguel made you this suit and you were going to happily wear it.

-------

Miguel just smirked as he watched you get all giddy with joy. Yes, he included a heating element so you could swing in peace, but he also added so much more. That suit was to represent to the city that you were no longer a hero to them.

You were Miguel's.

"Now, I have a meeting to get to. Why don't you finish reviewing the paperwork of the restorations?"

"Okay~"

The more obedient you became, the more Miguel craved you. It started to become unhealthy and Miguel noticed, but he didn't care. As long as Miguel still got what he wanted, then he believed he was allowed to have everything.

Parting ways with you for the moment, Miguel kept a calm composure. He was debating on telling his idiot father about his new found powers. The reason? To take control of Alchemax and the shareholders.

Miguel had big plans for both the company and the city.

Everything was going to belong to him.

Everything.

---------

Your smile stretched from ear to ear as you wore your new suit. It fit you perfectly. Standing on top of the Alchemax building, you inhaled deeply. The cold weather wasn't bothering you thanks to your new suit. It was great!

"Enjoying the suit?" Miguel asked, appearing in his suit. You gasped, approaching him,

"Wow! I didn't get a good look last night, but you look amazing in that suit!"

It was hard to tell if Miguel was smiling at the compliment due to his mask. His attire was different from yours, but also quite nice. It made you wonder how long he was working on this. Giggling at the thought, you hugged Miguel,

"This is so cool. We can work together~"

"About that-" Miguel stopped you, grabbing your chin, "This will be your last night as a hero."

"Wha-"

You were at a loss for words. Miguel's fingers stroked your thumb, unmoving from his comment. You were no longer going to play a hero? There was no way Miguel could take on the role. You were hoping to guide him.

"But-"

"What did I say?"

You gave a small pout, "To do as you say," You said and gasped as Miguel pulled you into his embrace.

"Good girl," Miguel chuckled darkly, "Besides, I'll take over. I'll make sure this city is taken care of."

"Mhm....but....You've never fought before," You whispered, melting against his touch.

"Neither did you when you first started."

Touché. Miguel got you there. Agreeing to his decision, you gently tugged on his suit, wanting to go for a swing across the city. This would be your last time doing so.

--------

Miguel was holding back from laughing. How far you've come from trying to change him, to being his obedient good girl. There was something about tainting you that brought chills up his spine. Miguel enjoyed breaking you.

"Come on~" You cooed, falling off the building.

Like instinct, Miguel went to reach for you. He withdrew as you laughed and started to swing. He let out a soft sigh and followed you, making sure that you didn't go far. There was one last lesson that Miguel needed to teach.

Swinging above some reporters, Miguel just chuckled darkly. He hurried towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist before swinging you onto of the nearest building. You whined softly but stopped as Miguel started to rub against your clit.

"M-Miguel...n-not here...a-anyone could watch," You tried to protest. Miguel just found you cute,

"They won't know it's you. All they will see is Spider-Man giving Spider-Woman the time of her life."

"Mhm~ B-But-" You gasped as Miguel rubbed your clothed clit harder.

Miguel just chuckled as he looked down at the reporters. They were trying their best to get a shot of the two of you. Turning you around, Miguel undid the bottom of your suit. You were already dripping in anticipation for him.

What a good girl.

Miguel held your hips as his suit disappeared only around his dick. With a simple thrust, Miguel had you under his spell. You were gripped the edge of the building, moaning as he slapped his cock deep within you.

"Not so shy now, huh? Did you want those reports to watch me breed you? To have them watch the once hero, Spider-Woman get fucked stupid?" Miguel taunted.

"N-No~" You cried out. Miguel hummed as your pussy fluttered around his cock,

"Could have fooled me."

Miguel grunted as he held you in place. All those reporters could see was Spider-Woman getting railed by Spider-Man. This showed them who was in charge. To show them that there were no more heroes left in his city.

"Mhm~!" Miguel covered your mouth as you moaned, wanting to make sure you didn't say his name.

"I hope you're ready to answer some questions." Miguel said with a wicked smirk.

You just raised your hips and whined as Miguel fucked through your orgasm. With a few more thrusts, Miguel gave you his first load. Unamused by the amount, Miguel made sure to fill you up before your interview.

"Now, you're ready."

--------

You leaned over the building, panting heavily from Miguel's quick sex session. Your mind felt dizzy. Miguel was so mean. Fixing your suit, you shuddered as your body felt full. You were going to get pregnant at this rate.

"Come on,"

Wrapping your arms around Miguel, you hummed as he swung you over to the reporters. You couldn't think straight. All you wanted to do was behave for Miguel.

"S-Spider-Man....W-What...What are you doing here?" One of the reported asked, terrified, "A-And what have you done with Spider-Woman?"

"Hm? She seems fine, don't you?" Miguel said, motioning towards you.

"Mhm, I'm fine," You replied.

"H-How long have...have you two been together?" Another reporter asked. Miguel's hand wrapped around your waist,

"What do you think?" Miguel held you close as he snatched a microphone away from one of the reporters, "Since I have you all here, time to lay down some ground rules."

Everyone could only gasp.

"There are no more heroes left to save you. If anyone dares to confront me, they will perish. Nueva York is my city now and soon the world. Spider-Woman and I shall bring forth a new breed of advance humans to rule over you tiny incest's-"

"There's no way she would agree to this!"

"Oh? Well, what do you think, my dear?" Miguel whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver.

"I belong to him, so I will do as he says," You cooed, trembling as Miguel whispered, 'Good Girl', in your ear.

"As you can see, I have already corrupted your hero."

Humming lowly as Miguel pulled you close, you smiled as he kept speaking to the public.

"Listen to me, and you'll be fine."

A simple ask. Miguel treated you like a queen and all you had to do was listen and do what he says. Nothing crazy. Feeling yourself being lifted, you wrapped your arms around Miguel's neck as he swung away from the terrified reporters.

"Best make do on my promise."

"Yes, Miggy~"

What was once a dream of being a hero and saving both the city and Miguel, turned into nightmare.

The hero was corrupted by the villain and didn't even know it.

But, you weren't complaining. You just stayed as Miguel's good girl...

Forever

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

WOO-HOO!!! I hope you all enjoyed this story!!!! I, for one, will miss it truly!

I didn't hesitate to start my next story, haha! I PRESENT:

Over-Time

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo @cicithemess @babyprofessorsharkpalace

#spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader

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lady-phasma · 1 month

Text

In the fading light

Daemon Targaryen x fem Dornish!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, but I was going for soft!Daemon so I don't think there are that many warnings this time.

Summary: Daemon comes to visit you at Godsgrace, the seat of House Allyrion, in Dorne. Kind of an AU in the sense that Rhaenyra isn't the object of his love, nor his motivation for "ending his marriage" to Rhea. 2.6k words

From the request here - romantic Daemon inspired by the song "kalam eineh" (Words of his eyes) by Sherine. I was able to work in a few lyrics as well ("the one whose eyes the moon envied" and "get lost in his beauty").

a/n: Dorne is a very big place and all of the houses are as different as the Northern houses. So as I write more Dornish!reader fics I start to see them uniquely in my headcanon. Godgrace is on a river from what my research tells me, so I think it worked out perfectly that Sherine is Egyptian. I've dropped some Egyptian elements into Godsgrace and that's how it is in my head now. (If there was a face claim for a location think Thebes/Luxor landscape.)

A warm breeze wafted onto the balcony where you and Daemon sat. The sun sank low against the horizon. The river in the distance shone with golds and pinks. A falcon screeched nearby. You turned from the gorgeous view of the Godsgrace river oasis to look at your Prince. He sat, reclined, opposite you. You slid your toes up the inside of his leg, teasing him. He stroked the top of your foot, your ankle, up your shin. Your smooth skin reflected the light of the setting sun much as the river did. Daemon slipped his fingertips under the hem of your thin skirt. The contrast of his pale hand under the bronze fabric was delightful to you. This Northern prince, so accustomed to clouds and darkness. Such a dreary land he came from.

You watched him as he looked out over the Greenblood river. It would be so easy to get lost in his beauty. His hair, his eyes, his mouth, everything about him was entrancing to you. You glanced back out at the river, the people going about their evening paying no attention to the lords and ladies so high above them. Birds circled above fishing boats as the nets were pulled in. Lights began to flicker in windows across the city. You smelled roasted meat and fresh baked bread on the warm air. You would have to dress for the evening meal, if you didn’t request it in your quarters.

“Did you come only because the fool Prince Martell forbade it?” You were genuinely curious. “Or because of your brother?”

“You know that is not the reason,” he spoke softly and continued to stroke your leg. “Their approval means less to me than you think.”

“You risk much coming to Godsgrace.” You wiggled your toes against his thigh.

“It is a fair price,” Daemon replied.

“Surely you are quite rested now, my love,” you goaded. “It is a long journey up the Greenblood, but not so tiring that you would ignore me.” You flashed your eyes at him. They were nearly the color of burnt umber in the fading light. Soon your maids would light torches and candles in your chambers. You would hear them through the diaphanous curtains that hung in the entry of the balcony. Though they would never dare to disturb you, even if you had your Targaryen on the floor in front of them.

Daemon turned his violet eyes toward you, finally pulled from his thoughts. Gods, you thought, even the moon could envy those eyes! The last pink of the sunset caught on his silver hair as it swung freely about his face, tendrils caught in the breeze.

“Quite rested,” he smirked as he spoke. He slipped his hand behind your knee and, reaching forward, grabbed your other leg and pulled you, bodily, to him. Your chair legs screeched against the stone floor as you threw your head back and laughed. When he had you where he wanted you, he smoothed his palms up the inside of your thighs. You rested your bare feet on the seat of his chair on either side of his legs. He pushed your skirt all the way up to your waist as he stared into your eyes. His thumbs grazed the creases of your thighs and you sighed.

“The journey was too long, but certain hindrances are now resolved,” his voice was low and quiet. “I am no longer married.”

You raised an eyebrow at these words. You trailed your fingertips down one of his forearms.

“I hope that it was painless, my prince,” you both knew the mocking of his title was not malicious. He was not your prince and you enjoyed reminding him of that. “You know, you could have stayed in Godsgrace and I could have sent one of my women to dispatch the issue quickly.” Your grin was knowing, yet seductive. Daemon’s response to Northern morality was curious to you. He didn’t want his wife, but could not bring himself to have another while she lived.

“I did not say I did the deed,” he tried not to smile. “Only that it was resolved.” Oh, he was deliciously vile when it suited him. You chuckled at this.

“Well, I had no trouble with the situation,” you grazed his thigh with one foot. “I needed only your devotion, not your marriage.”

“That you will always have, my lady,” he replied as he sank to his knees in front of you. You moved your foot to his shoulder, the other still in his chair, as you languidly spread your legs to make room for him. He looked up at you again, catching your eyes with his as he kissed your thigh, then your belly. You stroked one hand over his silky head as he lowered it and kissed the dark hair between your legs. You heard him inhale, smelling you, and you became even wetter.

Daemon licked the full length of your slit and paused at your pearl. He circled it with the tip of his tongue and you gripped the arms of your chair. He slid an arm around one thigh to steady you. Then he grazed a finger through your folds, finding your entrance quickly, as if he knew your geography by heart. He teased and didn’t slide inside you yet. He used two fingers to circle your opening, almost matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. Your hips rocked. You tried, and failed, to get his fingers inside. He stilled you as much as he could and continued for a moment that felt like an eternity.

When he finally slipped his fingers into your wet heat he sucked on your clit and your hands flew to the back of his head. You moaned and pushed against his mouth. You thought you felt him chuckle. You didn’t care. You ground your hips on his mouth and fingers.

“Daemon,” you whispered, as that was as loud as you could manage. “That’s it, just there. Please.”

He rubbed his fingertips against the spot that drove you wild, fighting against your clenching muscles. His tongue resumed its circling movements, but with a slightly quicker pace. Your breathing was becoming shallow and the sounds you made came deep from your chest. He pumped his fingers harder into you, knowing the pressure you needed to reach your climax. Your toes curled on his shoulder. You let go of his head, gripped the arms of your chair again, and your body curled forward as your climax overwhelmed you. You yelled his name, moaned incoherently, and then laughed. He hadn’t stopped, tongue still lapping causing your thighs to twitch. You playfully pushed at his forehead to give you peace.

You leaned forward and cupped his face in your hands. His expression wasn’t playful, as yours was. The look was full of something akin to admiration. You kissed him, roughly. You licked yourself from his lips, his tongue, and moaned into his mouth. He reached up and tangled his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, letting some of it loose from the pins that held it in place. Without much grace, he blindly began to release your hair from its confines.

Daemon broke your kiss and began to stand up. You let your fingers trail down his body as he did. You grazed your fingers over his pants, deliberately avoiding the hardness straining the fabric. He pulled pins and a comb from your hair, tossing them on the floor with abandon. You looked up at him, a playfully displeased look on your face for the carelessness he showed for your jewelry, and shook out your hair. It fell in near-black waves down your shoulders and back.

“I need you,” Daemon breathed. His eyes were dark with lust. Still looking up at him from your chair, you pressed your palm over his erection. His eyes nearly closed. His chest rose and fell, trying to maintain his composure. You pressed just a little harder. He grabbed your wrists. It didn’t hurt but made it evident that he couldn’t be teased this evening. You stood, your wrists still in his hands. You raised to tiptoes and pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth. Your eyes narrowed in defiance against being so restrained.

“That’s enough!” He threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and laughed, kicking your feet and pounding your fists lightly against his back. Your laughter bounced off the stone walls as he carried you through the curtains into your chambers. You pushed against him, raising your head to look at the two startled maids, and laughed harder.

“Let me go!” You giggled and kicked your feet but he only held your ankles as he walked you to the bed. You heard the two girls scamper from the room, giggling and twittering.

Daemon dropped you lightly on the bed. You were breathless from laughing. He smiled down at you, but that look was back. What had changed since he had gone North? Your laughter faded into giggles, which in turn faded into quick breaths as he knelt on the bed and kissed his way up your feet, calves, and thighs. He began to unfasten the ties of your skirt at your waist and you helped him with the small buttons of your delicate top.

He licked and kissed the curves of your exposed belly. He nuzzled his nose between your breasts, then kissed each of your nipples. You played with his silky hair, enjoying watching him worship you. When he reached your neck and jaw you began tugging on his shirt, pulling it toward his shoulders. He straightened long enough pull it over his head, then bent down to your mouth again. You kissed him back, hands gripping his neck, stroking his shoulders, down his biceps.

Daemon moved with you, still kissing, as you began to sit up. You gently pressed his shoulders back and guided him to lay down. You straddled his thighs and began pulling at the laces of his pants. He groaned at the pressure of your fingers. You stroked his freed cock, watching your hands move slowly. You enjoyed making him wait but you couldn’t wait any longer. You released him and begin to remove his breeches. Once you had both struggled with that for a moment, you trying not to giggle during the endeavor, you climbed up him and placed yourself on his belly. You could feel his cock pressing against your buttocks. You leaned forward and kissed him and he cupped both of your breasts in his hands.

You lifted your hips enough to reach between you and guide him into your wetness. He growled and squeezed your breasts a bit harder. Slowly, you took him inside you. You raised up, allowing him to keep his hands on you, and pressed your hands against his stomach as you rocked your hips. You took his cock as deep as you could. Gradually, at first, then setting a gentle pace that brought sweet sounds from Daemon’s lips. You leaned forward slightly, finding the angle you needed. He moved his hands, one to your neck, one to your hip. As you settled on a rhythm, he began to match you, thrusting upward slightly each time you rocked back on his cock.

You let your head fall forward, you hair sweeping forward, framing your face and his. Your fingers curled against his chest. You kept this pace as long as you could before your cunt began to ache with the beginnings of your climax. You slowed and Daemon took over. Gripping both of your hips, he fucked up into you, harder than you had been able to manage. His grunts made you squeeze around his cock. They were wonderful sounds that only increased your need for him.

You rested your face against his, pressing your cheeks together. Neither of you could stay quiet. Your name fell from his lips as fluidly as the curses he uttered. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you down onto each of his upward thrusts. The sound of flesh against flesh, lewd and satisfying. Your bodies glistened with sweat in the torch light. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him but the pleasure was too great.

“Yes, please, Daemon,” you whined in his ear. Your lips drug across his cheek as you searched for his mouth. You tried to kiss him. Instead you panted and moaned against his mouth. As your climax began the wave that would drown you, you heard his voice, much calmer than yours could have been in that moment.

“Look at me.” You did. He didn’t stop fucking you, but he held your gaze with those perfect eyes. “I love you. I would kill for you. I would kill anyone who kept us apart.”

Something in his eyes, not just his words, was your undoing. Your climax spread over you at the same time as it curled up inside you. You squeezed your thighs against his hips, almost stopping his movements entirely. You bent to him and kissed him, moaning and sighing, as you came.

Suddenly Daemon’s large arms encircled you and in your delirium you could hardly notice that he was moving you. You clung to his shoulders as he somehow, and gracefully, managed to lay you on your back. He had not pulled out. You wrapped your legs around his hips and ran your hands into his hair.

Daemon fucked you without restraint. You were coming down from your climax but your cunt gripped him tight and he grunted with each deep thrust. He shifted his weight to one hand and deftly scooped one of your legs into the crook of his arm. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him. He was watching you.

“Touch yourself,” he panted. “Come on my cock again.” His smile was enough to convince you, if his words hadn’t been.

So you did. You rubbed your fingers quickly, and in time with his strokes. When you were close again, you arched under him, head thrown back, Daemon’s mouth on your exposed neck. Then he pressed his hips against you as hard as he could. His cock buried completely inside you as he came. Your cunt spasmed around him and you both felt his seed fill you as your climax peaked. He cursed and tried to gently lower your leg. Your body shook and you were unable to help him. He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

As he slowly pulled out and away from you, you mewled and groaned, closing your thighs and squeezing them together. Daemon lowered himself down next to you, on his side. He rested his head on your chest. You smoothed his hair away from his forehead in a long stroke down to his back and sighed. You let your hand rest on his shoulder. He held you close to him.

The cool night breeze wicked the sweat off your skin. The torches guttered slightly. You wrapped one leg over Daemon’s. You wanted every part of your body touching his. You breathed in his smell mixed with your own and the dusty sweetness of Godsgrace coming in through the curtains.

“No one will come between us,” Daemon whispered against you.

“I know, my love, my dragon” you replied, lips brushing against the top of his head.

The sun had set and, perhaps, the dark was what he needed. In the light of day The Rogue Prince was rakish and disreputable. But at night, with you, he could shed that facade.

Masterlist

Tags: @black-dread

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leonw4nter · 4 months

Text

Is It The Look In Your Eyes Or Is It This Dancing Juice?

Husband!DI!Leon x Reader

It’s 2002 and you’re deep in the Amazon rainforest on a mission called “Operation Javier” to track down a drug lord involved with bioterrorism. It was a cold and punishing night: pouring rain, winds that you swore could tear the roof from you and Leon’s shared tent, and the deafening cracks of thunder that followed after a bright flash of lightning. An unspoken pretense of being asleep lingered in the tent but you both knew that sleep seemed impossible to have that night.

“Can’t sleep?,” you softly ask first.

“You too?,” Leon asks back.

“Yeah,” you sigh. You shift in your sleeping bag, turning over to face Leon. He laid on his back, forearm on his forehead. Your gaze followed the veins in his arm, thinking to yourself that he would look breathtaking with a rolled-up dress shirt and maybe some gel to his pretty hair.

“You’re staring,” he says after some time.

“I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, right.”

You two fell back into comfortable silence, staring at the roof of the tent that shielded you both from the harsh elements. You remembered how you adored rainy nights like these back in Raccoon City, fondly reminiscing the soft pitter-patter of raindrops against your bedroom window. You wish you still had that fondness of rain to make your current predicament feel better, even for just a little bit.

“I used to own a walkman. I loved the hell out of that thing– took it to school, the park, church– everywhere basically,” he says. A fond chuckle leaves his lips and you close your eyes, relishing in how adorable he sounded.

“I only had five songs in it but I never got tired of each one. I listened to those songs on repeat no matter the mood. On nights like these, I fell asleep listening to the songs to drown out the thunder but the walkman’s lost now. I don’t know what happened, it’s gone now. I miss him,” he finally says. He finally turns over, looking at you with what seemed like a sliver of a smile on his slightly chapped lips.

“Seems like you really loved that thing.” “Yeah, could possibly qualify as my greatest love.”

“Greatest love? Big thing to say about it.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You proved to Leon that he’s wrong with his walkman being his greatest love because he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him ten years after this conversation. Now you’re on your shared bed in your shared home, surfing through eBay for walkmans from his time. You remembered how his blue irises served as a sky for the stars that shone when he talked about and you never thought his eyes could shine brightly for anything or anyone else but that’s where you’re wrong. After a few minutes of scrolling, you managed to find a walkman from the 80s in perfect condition and some tapes with songs you know he likes. With a few clicks, you placed the order and paid. Lucky for you, the order would arrive a day or two before his birthday. Smiling, you turn your laptop off and return it to your drawer. Leon was on the other side of the country, currently on a mission. Many times you have convinced Leon to lay back and retire but you both know that it’s easier said than done.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Hunnigan managed to get me a month-long vacation. I’m all yours for an entire month,” Leon says as he walks out of the shower, towel in hand to dry his brown locks.

“You deserve it, honey. How does a tropical getaway sound? Or would you prefer we stay at home instead,” you ask.

“I’m content with anywhere as long as it’s with you and you’re happy about it,” he says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, his stubble tickling your skin.

You were about to say something when the doorbell rang, prompting Leon to temporarily stop drying his hair and turn his focus to the door. You excused yourself, skipping to the front door and only parting the door slightly so Leon wouldn’t see the package you got a week or two ago. You handed over the bills you were going to pay with and thanked the delivery man before walking back to Leon, the box behind your back.

“What was that for?,” Leon asked.

“Nothing,” you say as you fight back a giggle.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me,” Leon remarks.

“Seriously, it’s really nothing!”

“Fine. I’ll let this slide because I love you.”

“You’re the best!”

It was hard to hide the surprise from him not because he was actively trying to find out what it was but because he was home most of the time. It wasn’t like you could slip out of bed while he was sleeping and wrap his gift up, he’s a light sleeper and the crinkling of paper would wake him so the only solution you found was to send him on a grocery run. As soon as he left the door, you quickly took the walkman and the paper bag and began wrapping it. Since you still had time to spare, you decided to quickly draft a heartfelt birthday greeting and placed it inside the brown bag. Your gift was complete, ready to make Leon’s special day.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon had opted for a simple get-together at home, along with Chris, Claire, Jill, Rebecca, and Hunnigan. Unlike the others, Leon didn’t touch a single glass of alcohol since he’s recovering from his drinking problem and instead settled on cakes and the pasta you made. He was coming into the kitchen for another slice of cake when you walked up from behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Happy birthday, big boy,” you softly say as you press your cheek into his firm back.

“Thanks honey, I really appreciate all this,” he says with sincerity as he turns around and hugs you back.

“Save that for when I’ll give you your gift” “Oh?”

You take the brown paper bag from where you’ve hidden it and give it to him. He looks to you, silently asking permission to open it up to which you nod. He tries to guess what you could’ve gotten him, saying whatever item comes to mind. “A shaving set? New wallet? Gift card?”

“Just open it up!,” you excitedly say.

“Alright, alright!”

He opens the bag up, his hand reaching until his hands feel something and pulls it back up. His eyes widen and he nearly drops the walkman due to his surprise. He stares at you, mouth parted as all the words get stuck in his throat.

“Honey! A walkman! Oh my God, thank you so much,” he happily says. He walks over to you, pulling you in for a rib-shattering hug and rocks you side to side. He pulls away and peppers your face with kisses before settling on your warm lips, a smile pressed against your own.

He spends the rest of the evening tinkering with the walkman, proudly showing your present off to everyone in the room. You decide to busy yourself with doing the dishes, giving Leon some time by himself to relish the fact that you helped him relive his childhood.

“I’m so lucky to have them in my life, Hunnigan, you don’t understand!,” you overhear, which prompts laughter from the guests.

NOTE - Happy New Year everyone! Hope everyone's feeling great, 2024 will be your year! I don't exactly like this work but I still hope you'll enjoy it 😭 I'm tempted to write another hockeyplayer!Leon fic since I'm currently having a brainrot over him and Russ Callaghan from Wildfire. I'm also planning to make a directory post to all my fics (maybe later). I might start to post less later this week because class is starting and I've got so much tests waiting for me (wish me luck!!) That's it and Happy New Year again!!!!!

The film dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#fluff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #rebhfun #real ones know which song i titled this fic from

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 days

Text

The Man 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A few days pass as the humiliation of your big lesson clings in the air. You think about it too much. Enough that you find yourself cringing to yourself on your bike ride home or even when lying in bed. You’ve never been the most socially adept so the encounter leaves you reeling.

As you help Bre with opening, you feel your heartbeat pick up once more. You need to chase the elephant from the room. You puff out and wet your lips as you glance over at her. She measures out grinds into the silver machine as her eyes pinpoint on the task.

“Um, so, Bre,” you approach her warily with a fresh sleeve of cups, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm,” she grumbles groggily. She’s on her second coffee already and she only just got there twenty minutes ago.

“So, um, that guy, from the other day,” you rub your boiling neck, “with the mustache. You said he’s the boss. So he owns this place?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she shuts the lid of the machine and turns the silver dial on the front. She shakes her head as the machine starts to brew and she plants her hand on the counter in front of it. She faces you, her other hand going to her hip.

“Mr. Hansen? Lloyd. Hansen.” She enunciates as if you should know the name.

Your lips downturn and you shrug, “is that his name?”

“Are you new in town?” She asks hotly.

You nod, “yeah, actually. I used to live about forty minutes out of town but there was nothing there--”

“It shows,” she retorts, “he owns this shop, he owns the street outside, he owns me, he owns you. He owns this city. Got it?”

You hum and nod as you look thoughtfully to the ceiling, “not really. But he’s important, got it.”

“Just if he comes back in, come get me and say as little as you can. And please, for the love of god, do not ask him for money,” she snips.

“Oh, alright,” you deflate, “I didn’t know--”

“Now you do. Just trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to fuck around with him. If he tells you to pour boiling water on yourself, you’re better off just doing it,” she sneers.

You wince, “okay, sorry, Bre, I was just asking.”

“You ask too many questions,” she turns and goes into the backroom. She returns, dangling a keyring from her finger, “open up. It’s time.”

You take the key and go to unlock the door and flip on the sign. You retreat back behind the counter, swallowed up by the tension between you. You regret asking. You thought it might help clear the air but now you can barely breathe.

When the first customer enters, you volunteer to help them. Bre just mutters and slurps from her coffee. She might have less of a headache if she takes it easy on the caffeine. You don’t say as much to her, nothing really at all as you work through order after order.

She hops onto prep as you man the till while the queue grows. The morning rush is in full effect as you slide baked goods into little paper sleeves and hand them over before sending customers down to the window to wait for their drinks. The hectic flow helps you forget about the awkward start.

When at last the crowd trickles down and the cafe hums with voices sitting at the tables, you have a moment to catch your breath and center yourself. You like this job, it’s just like your last one, but the company isn’t as pleasant. Bre taps her thumb on her phone screen and ignores you.

The ebbs come with hide tides and soon lunch has you scrambling once more. The smell of toasted bread and cinnamon has your stomach grumbling. You’re too busy to let the emptiness bother you for long. When high noon influx subsides, Bre yawns.

“Lunch,” she announces, “I’m going to head down to Tabitha’s. They’re having a clearance sale.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree, not mentioning that she said earlier you could go first, “I’ll be here.”

She doesn’t respond as she disappears into the back to get her things. You hear her leave through the side door that leads through to the alley. You sigh out and watch the sit-in customers on their laptops or chatting with friends.

You resist the temptation of the tarts staring at you from the display. You can hold out until it’s your turn. The door jingles and a new customer enters. You’re too fixated on the painting of a latte to glance over. Not until you sense the sudden shift in the air. Several people quiet and pack up to go.

Footfalls scuff across the floor and customers leave their unfinished drinks on the table as they hurry for the door. You peer around then at the approaching shadow. It’s him. Oh no. Bre isn’t here.

“Um, hello, Mr. Hensen,” you smile shakily, “how are you?”

He stares at you as he comes to stand across the till from you. His blue eyes darken as he lets a long exhale out through his nose. You gulp and your cheeks tremble. He tilts his head and arches a brow.

“Hansen,” he corrects.

“Right, Floyd Hansen, I remember--”

“Lloyd,” he hits his fist on the counter and you gasp. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He leans forward and bares his teeth, “get that through that thick fucking skull.” He reaches for you, grabbing the front of your shirt, “you won’t forget who I am.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m bad with names--”

“Shut up,” he twists the fabric until it strains against the back of your neck, “if you weren’t so goddamn pathetic, I’d drag you across this counter.”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. He’s only an inch away from you. You shiver as he opens his hand and presses the vee of his index and thumb to your throat. You’re frozen, terrified. Who is this man?

“Get me my fucking coffee,” he squeezes then shoves you so you choke.

You stumble back and bring your hand to your neck. You nod, eyes glittering with unspent tears, and look around. You can’t remember what he ordered. You’ll just have to make something up. Or maybe you could just sneak out like Bre...

#the man #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #drabble #series #au #mob au

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heartsandhischier · 1 month

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stranger

luke hughes x reader

summary - 1k words. In an attempt to unwind during the All Star break, Luke finds himself captivated by a stranger in the club inspired by the song: strangers - jay hayden

author's note - I've been kind of obsessed with writing about Luke lately, I have tons of drafts I've already written... lol

warnings - mentions of alcohol

The club pulsated with energy, a kaleidoscope of lights and thumping bass. the sparkling lights casting an ethereal glow over the dance floor where bodies writhed and moved in perfect synchrony with the music. All in contrast with the hockey player's introspective mood as he tries to unwind during the All Star break. Amidst the vibrant nightlife of New York City, Luke and some of his teammates sought solace from the usual grind of early morning practices and back-to-back matches. Yet, the unfamiliar surroundings left Luke feeling out of place, longing for the familiar embrace of the ice beneath his skates.

His teammates were a blur of motion and laughter, their voices blending together in a cacophony of excitement as they raised their glasses in toast after toast. They were in their element, basking in the freedom of the moment, but for Luke, the scene felt foreign.

He longed for the familiar comfort of the ice rink, where the rules were clear, and his place in the world was defined by the swift glide of his skates. But here, in this crowded club, he felt adrift, his confidence waning with each passing moment.

Trays of drinks arrived at their table with alarming frequency, each one greeted with cheers and whoops of delight from his teammates. Luke tried to join in, tried to lose himself in the rhythm of the music, but it was no use. Without his stick and skates, he felt like a stranger in his own skin, disconnected from the world around him.

His eyes scanned the throng of dancers, searching for something – anything – to distract him from his growing sense of unease. That’s when he spotted her. A vision of confidence and allure amidst the chaos, she moved with a grace that mesmerized him. Clad in a sleek black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, she seemed to command the attention of everyone around her. She was dancing, moving her body without a worry, the music seemed to dance around her rather than the other way around.

Luke felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched her, his heart pounding in his chest with a rhythm that matched the pulsating beat of the music. His teammates noticed his fixation and wasted no time chirping him mercilessly, their laughter ringing in his ears like a taunting melody.

“Hey Luke, what’s got you all hot and bothered over there?” Dawson jeered, nudging him with a playful smirk.

“Yo Luke, check out that hottie on the dance floor! You gonna make a move or what?” Alexander chimed in pointing towards the woman swaying her hips in the middle of the crowd.

Dawson again, playfully nudged Luke with his elbow, “Yeah man, you’ve practically drooling at the sight of her. Time to put on your big boy pants and go talk to her.”

Alexander chuckled at his comment as he made his way towards them from across the table, drink in hand. “Come on, Luke, what’s the worst that could happen? She turns you down? At least you’ll have a good story to tell.”

Their encouragement spurred Luke on, with each passing moment, his confidence grew. Finally, Luke built up the courage to push himself out of his spot, he took a hold of his drink downing it in one big sip as a form of liquid courage, before making his way towards the confident stranger.

As he approached the captivating stranger, his palms grew sweaty, his nerves threatening to get the best of him. But then she turned to face him, her eyes meeting with a playing glint, and suddenly everything else faded away.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice barely audible above the music. “Mind if I join you?”

The stranger's smile widened as he looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment before she spoke.

“Depends,” she replied, her voice teasing. “Can you keep up?”

Luke felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he met her mischievous gaze, every nerve in his body suddenly nowhere to be found as a sense of determination washed over him.

“Only one way to find out,” he said, returning her smile with a confidence he didn’t know he possessed.

She playfully smirked as her hands snaked up his chest sending shivers down his spine. She took a hold of his arms gently but confidently placing them on her hips, before resting her own around his neck. Lost in the rhythm of the dance, the world around them seemed to blur into insignificance. With each sway of the hips pulling them closer and closer together. The energy of the club, the throb of the music, all of it paled in comparison to the current crackling through the small space that separated them.

Then, as if drawn by a force greater than either could resist, they found themselves closer still, the tension between them sparking with the promise of something more. It was in this charged atmosphere that Luke, emboldened by the moment and the undeniable connection he felt with her, made his move. Their eyes locked, a silent agreement of lust passing between them, and then their lips met in a kiss that sent shockwaves through them both.

The kiss was electric, a fusion of longing and passion that seemed to stop time itself. Around them, the music and the crowd faded into a distant hum, the only reality that mattered was the feel of her lips on his, the taste of her, the way she seemed to melt into him as if she belonged there. It was a moment of pure exhilaration, a confirmation of the attraction that had been simmering between them from the moment they'd locked eyes.

But as quickly as the moment came, it was torn away. The stranger was suddenly pulled back into the sea of dancers, a playful wink her only goodbye before she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Luke amidst the pulsating lights and music, his heart racing and his lips still tingling from their kiss.

The abrupt end to their connection left Luke reeling, a mix of euphoria and confusion swirling within him. The kiss had been real, the sparks undeniable. Yet now, as he stood alone on the dance floor, her absence felt like a sudden chill, the warmth of their encounter a memory that left him yearning for more.

#luke hughes #new jersey devils #njd #nj devils #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #hockey fic

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maiios · 7 months

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My Rainworld AU: Dried AU!!

This au takes place after five pebbles' collapse but instead of endless snowstorms, the skies turn blazing hot and the once heavily rain filled terrain make for a heated wasteland in which all creatures (and iterators) have to learn to adapt to this new type of environment.

After gaining a second chance from being washed up ashore on the, once in tact, shaded citadel for cycles and saved by a familar explosive slugcat, he searches on a much contemplative and obligated journey to find his big sister, Looks to the Moon. He, begrudgingly, plans to apologize and try his hardest to make it up to her, if he even finds her alive, but first and foremost, he must learn to forgive himself, if he ever could.

A wandering iterator on the lookout for her lost brother, she has searched high and low for his puppet with companionship of the one who had repaired her systems with a, presumably stolen, rarefracture cell. Firstly, she has repaired her damaged puppet at her, once beautiful and flourous, city that laid on top of her submerged structure, which was currently easier to roam because of the water that covered the facility had since evaporated.

A gatherer and his companion, a hunter, with many purposed, deceased, organisms in their posession. He scours the land searching for objects and the like that spark an idea for whatever it is he plans to create for the iterator populace's benefit to give them a second, livelier chance at life that the anciets had stripped away from them.

Farther from the west of the outer expanses give way to one of the most dedicated researchers, set on find what else the world that they have been trapped behind in a can has hidden from them. Exceptional with the crossbow and spears provided by their trusty messenger, given the name Dusk, they set off to record and document everything about this new world. They seem to keep pearls containing poetry and artistry, with seemingly no interest in the matter, for unknown reasons that they refuse to share with anyone.

if anyone is interested and would like to learn more about my au, feel free to ask away in my askbox! id be willing to draw doodles/art for specific asks too :>

credit and thank you to my partner, @basilirl for helping me with the scug designs!!! <333 (i cannot design animal patterns at ALL)

credit to @lyss-butterscotch for the gjinka inspiration for the designs!! i was very inspired to many elements i absolutely adore about her designs to be able to make my own au!!!

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theroguescientist · 2 years

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Many other fantasy authors are great because of how meticulously they plan everything in advance. They’ll come up with a bit of worldbuilding or a plot point or a character as early as the first book in the series, then hold on to it for the next seven books, dropping only enough hints that it won’t come out of nowhere when it finally makes a real appearence. Terry Pratchett is great because, quite often, he just makes things up as he goes along.

He was probably a few books in already when it occurred to him that the Discworld would end up being a series of “at least ten books, probably”.

A lot of his worldbuilding starts off with a silly joke, but as soon as the reader is done laughing, the author goes “hey, what if I take this seriously?” and somehow it gets all deep and surprisingly real.

Like, why do you never see any female dwarfs? Well, you do actually, but they look just like the males. Here’s a few jokes about dwarf courtship. And now that it’s an established element of the setting, here’s an openly female dwarf, the struggles she has to deal with and some commentary on gender roles.

And the City Watch series is pretty much one big happy accident. Guards! Guards! was going to be a standalone book, but then there were more stories to tell about these characters, and then there were more characters, and stories to tell about them, and so it became a whole series. Carrot was going to be the main character, but then Vimes sort of took over the plot. Sybil is one of the best love interests ever specifically because she probably wasn’t invented as a love interest. But the plot required a dragon expert so here she is and, oops, it looks like she’s flirting with the captain? Sure, why not?

Hell, the whole thing started out as a lighthearted parody of fantasy tropes popular at the time. But somehow it turned into the perfect setting for other stories, and satire on all kinds of topics, and drama and mystery, and deep commentary on the human condition, and...

#discworld #thoughts

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faetreides · 2 days

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modern!feyd thoughts? is he crazier than modern! coryo? i feel like modern feyd would be like a underground boxer or something

this ask is crazy because it’s so good. like i haven’t even considered modern!feyd before but the underground boxer element is 😋, went with the typical opposites attract hello kitty s/o trope again SORRY, mdni (AFAB reader)

Yeah something that like or mixed mma, i do imagine him in a more athletic field but it’d have to be one where he’s allowed to make a spectacle of being violent. The rookie that has a borderline demonic reputation because he’s so vicious. And sometimes he doesn’t even go into fights with winning being the first thing on his mind, he wants a good show as much as the audience does and he wants blood in whatever capacity he can get it.

He’s for sure crazier than Coryo, like lock them into a room together and Feyd’s skinning and deboning him like a fish. Still far removed from how he is in canon obviously, but i think that he does do the same extreme facial expressions during a match to psych his opponent out. Feyd wants to make it big, yes, but more so because he wants a bigger “stage” to have more people see him at his most raw and real.

But he stays because he knows no professional organization worth their salt would turn the other cheek when he loses control and kills his opponent. Not that that’s a common occurrence or anything, but the chance of it happening is never zero.

(His uncle definitely has a hand in the betting that goes on at his matches, and even places his own bets from time to time. Feyd’s resentment grows with every rigged match. He’s an unhinged freak with a penchant for blood lust, but he does still want to win at the end of the day when he’s done playing with his food)

You’re in the crowd for one of his matches. Attracted by the mystery and the taboo nature of what he does. You look nervous, rocking from side to side as your eyes follow every punch and dodge. You’re out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb in your tennis skirt and hello kitty necklace. There’s no date hanging on your arm or friend chatting your ear off, which leaves you ripe for the picking.

He keeps an intrigued watch on you out of the corner of his eye, hollering and crowding his opponent against the ring. He hopes you’re watching as he pummels his fists into the sorry bastard’s face. The low lights and the cheers from drunks and gamblers get his blood pumping. Even through all that background noise, he hears you softly gasp as teeth clatter to the floor.

Underground Boxer!Feyd who stares you right in the eyes when he’s declared the victor of the match, clocking how much you’re playing with the hem of your skirt. He smiles, a gross expression stained crimson and spits at his feet. It’s a good thing you’re so strangely accepting, his muscles are too sore to chase you down through back alleys and city streets.

He’ll burn through his winnings to give you the life you deserve, and he’ll wash the blood off you both when you get home after a fight. He can’t wait to see how you react to the motorcycle he’s got parked outside.

Fucks you against the cage when no one else is there and on his motorcycle. Gives you backshots in the shower, killing two birds with one stone. Bends you over his prize money and makes you squirt until you pass out on top of it.

Mean mean mean bf but he loves his favorite cheerleader with everything he has.

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