#like i already sucked at dealing with my own presence on this planet before i got a full time job and now that i have one..

[yonkimint]

The End is You and I [Taehyung x Reader]

25. A Bad Vibe ✎

PREVIOUS - MASTERLIST - NEXT

“And of course the boys swept the competition,” y/n explains, falling back on Jiwoo’s couch with a definitive plunk. Bogum, Hana, and Mina are still staring wide eyed at the posh Seoul apartment Jiwoo’s husband to be picked out for them. Jiwoo herself has ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ through her sister’s entire play-by-play but now she circles around the loft to offer drinks to her new guests.

y/n snuggles an obnoxiously tasseled throw pillow to her chest and beckons for Bogum to sit beside her. He grins at her, eager to be near her, and settles obediently beside her. Mostly, y/n is thrilled by his presence but there is still a small part of her heart that twinges. Why couldn’t Tae want her like this? As soon as the intrusive thought rises up, she shoves it back down.

To hell with Tae, she thinks but she knows that hating him isn’t in the cards either. She boxed herself into a paradox trying to keep him in her life without revealing her feelings. They are growing apart but they’ll never leave each other’s lives. She’s stuck in Kim Taehyung limbo.

She shakes her head as if this will remove him from her brain and reaches over to take Bogum’s hand in hers. His palm is warm and she likes the way his long fingers tangle through hers easily as if they are meant to slot together. It’s only been a week but it’s easy to be with him.

y/n doesn’t admit to herself that it’s only been easy because Tae and Bogum have yet to cross paths.

Jiwoo pulls y/n out of her muddled thoughts with a glass of chilled red wine and a warning, “If you spill that on my pillows, the hubs might kill you. He’s already mad that I spent so much money on them!”

“Is he coming tonight?” Mina asks from the kitchen where she’s taken up post assembling a charcuterie board.

Jiwoo sighs, “He said he’d try but knowing his boss, he won’t be home anytime soon.”

“Sucks,” Mina sympathizes. y/n loves Mina. She always seems to know when to keep her comments short and when to pull out the dramatics. Maybe she’s learned this from having to deal with Jin’s antics all this time or maybe she’s always been this way and that’s why they work. Either way, y/n is happy they got together.

“What does he do?” Hana asks politely, her gaze trained on Jiwoo’s mini art collection.

Jiwoo laughs and sips her own wine before answering, “He is a boring, old businessman and he’s my favorite person on the planet!”

“He’s literally the Bruce Wayne of businessmen,” y/n amends, “By day, he is boring. By night, who knows what he’ll do.”

Hana, Bogum, and Mina are intrigued by this mystery man.

“Is he some kind of vigilante?” Bogum asks.

“He’s crazy and he’s rich. He took Jiwoo to Paris on like their third date,” y/n explains.

Jiwoo jokes, “The man basically bought my love!”

Before any of them have time to unpack Jiwoo’s relationship, the door to the loft flings open and the Boy Scouts traipse inside. None of them feels out of place in this apartment which is basically an extension of the Jung household and therefore home to them but they still all stop to greet Jiwoo first.

y/n tries — she really does! — not to notice Tae as he walks through the door but how can she not? She’s been aware of his presence since they met in grade school and it’s not as if she can turn off her Tae Radar with a snap of her fingers. She’s tried.

Instead, she squeezes Bogum’s hand and pulls him to his feet so they can greet the other Boy Scouts together. She starts with Hobi, butting her head against his chest like she used to do when they were little. He laughs, ruffling her hair, and pulls her into a side hug so she doesn’t have to break her tether to Bogum.

“You were amazing up there!” she whispers excitedly, “And I think I overheard a scout with the Korea National Ballet say he was interested in you!”

Namjoon, overhearing this, slings an arm over Hobi’s shoulders and confirms, “Our Hoba was approached by several talent scouts tonight actually!”

y/n doesn’t miss the way that Hobi’s eyes flicker to Yoongi at this announcement nor does she miss the way that Yoongi beelines for the kitchen to pour himself a drink. She bites her lip, already brainstorming how she can course correct this.

“That’s amazing, Hobi!” Bogum says, giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder.

“Thanks!” Hobi laughs.

“The rest of you were fantastic too,” y/n says. She gives Jimin a purposeful wink so he knows her comment is very much directed at him. He danced his heart out up there and she knows how important it was for him to win. He blushes and covers his face at her compliment.

The boys all clamor to talk over one another about the competition after that and soon they’ve drifted all around the loft to chat. It isn’t long before their back-up dancers arrive and then several more friends from school and work join the fray as well. y/n is just about to settle back on the couch with Bogum, proud of herself for having successfully avoided Tae, when an all too familiar grip circles her wrist and spins her back around.

They haven’t talked one on one since the night he texted her about her first date with Bogum and she can see the pain in his eyes. It makes her heart leap into her throat and she hopes he can’t read her face as easily as she can read his.

“Do I not get a congratulations from my best friend then?” he asks. Hana swats his arm.

“Don’t be so aggressive, Taebear!” she scolds.

“TAEBEAR!” Jungkook roars from a few feet away and then makes a gagging sound. Tae’s eyes tighten, the only indication he’s embarrassed, but Hana covers her mouth with visible regret that she’s spoken the pet name in firing range of his buddies. y/n would like nothing more than to gag too but she can’t leave Hana to be embarrassed and she immediately diffuses the situation.

Rolling her eyes, she leans up on her tiptoes to wrap her free arm around Tae’s neck, the other still firmly tethered to Bogum, and pulls him close. She means for it only to be a short hug. She means to slap him on the back of the head for being so dramatic but he wraps his arms tightly around her and pulls her other hand free of Bogum.

“I miss you,” he whispers in her ear like the whole party isn’t watching them. Like he hasn’t just yanked her away from her boyfriend who he still hasn’t introduced himself to. Like his girlfriend isn’t right there. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies loudly and, though she’d gladly stand there forever with his arms around her and his breath hot on her ear, she is apparently the only one of them with any decency for the people around them, “Congratulations or whatever!”

She turns back to Bogum to find his usually genial expression replaced with stone. She tosses her head, grinning at him, as if to say, ‘get a load of this guy, am I right?’ Thankfully it works. He holds out his hand to her and quickly twines their fingers together again.

“Oh yeah, you’re the L word guy, right?” Tae asks, leaning around y/n to greet Bogum.

Bogum lifts an eyebrow at y/n and she shrugs. The boys shake hands as Bogum agrees, “Yeah! I guess I am! It’s nice to finally meet you. Tae, right?”

Tae clutches at his chest, pretending to be wounded, “She didn’t tell you about me? I’m only her favorite person ever!”

Why is he being so dramatic? y/n would rather bury herself alive than deal with this second hand embarrassment. She scowls at him, hoping it’s enough warning to get him to shut up, but Tae only winks and 

presses on, “it’s kind of weird that you said the L word to her before you ever met her, don’t you think?”

Somewhere further away y/n thinks she hears Jiwoo mutter something about murder.

“You don’t think she’s appealing enough to be loved at first sight?” Bogum counters. A hush falls over the room.

“Of course she is,” Tae agrees. y/n does not like this stand off that’s going down. She looks helplessly to Hana as if this girl can somehow rein in her man but y/n knows better than anyone that Tae can’t be stopped once he gets going. “I just find it suspicious that you would say it to her so quickly. Kind of makes it seem like you have ulterior motives, you know?”

“I can assure you I don’t,” Bogum says evenly. He even manages a smile.

Hana pats Tae’s arm, sensing an opportunity to pull her boyfriend away from a pissing match, and says, “Let’s go get you a glass of wine! We should celebrate what an amazing job you did tonight!”

Everyone in the loft seems to let out a simultaneous breath and the party resumes.

“I think he likes me,” Bogum says, only the slightest hint of sarcasm in his tone. y/n laughs, pulling him after her to Jiwoo’s balcony so they can get some fresh air, and agrees, “Oh, you’re like his favorite person ever, I can tell!”

The music and chatter of the party waft across the balcony when the back door opens. y/n has carefully been studying the city skyline with Bogum but they both look up at the noise. Hana and Tae step through the door waving politely to the couple. y/n waves back, a signal that they can join them, and then quickly turns to Bogum.

“If he goes off again, we’re leaving, okay?”

Bogum tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiles, “It’ll be fine, y/n, he doesn’t bother me.”

They had spent the last fifteen minutes or so talking about her best friend’s bizarre behavior and while y/n was utterly confused by it, Bogum had a feeling he knew exactly why the boy would be reacting that way. Romantically or not, Tae was jealous but Bogum was old enough now not to be fazed by the antics of jealous boys. Who wouldn’t be jealous of the guy who won the heart of a girl like y/n?

“Hi,” Hana chirps, sliding onto one of Jiwoo’s wicker benches. y/n returns her warm smile before pointedly directing her gaze back to the city without a word to Tae. He sits, chagrined, by his girlfriend and for a few beats all four of them are silent.

“I’m sorry,” Tae finally spits out, “I don’t know what came over me in there but whatever it was, it was no reason to talk to you like that. It’s nice to finally meet you, Bogum, I’m Kim Taehyung.”

Bogum nods, accepting the apology easily enough, and sticks out his hand to Tae. They shake like old friends. The conversation is smooth after that but it’s artificial and y/n wonders if she’s the only one who can tell. Hana and Bogum seem immersed enough, relieved that the tense atmosphere has dissipated but when she catches Tae’s eye, she can see.

He’s putting on a show.

Permanent Taglist: @pb-n-juju @jikooksgirl19 @sopebubbles @halesandy @unadulteratedlyunique @bangtantruffle @danny-boy27 @esteemedsalt @bri-mal @pineapple-hoseok @lilacdreams-00 @jooniesbanoonies @babycoffeefire @jyp1204 @namjoonsillegaldimple @sunflowerbebe07 @fairy-jaykay @brit97 @goldenhoney-cas @hey-itsmina @letmebreathepls @magicalmarauder @bubblytaetae @imaginativedreams @daydreambrliever @90s-belladonna @naajix @kpopsimpstruggles @steffiiirose @manchuria @dragoncharmwitch @shadyfox242 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @mint--yoongs​ @twixxxpie​ @curedblues​ @borahae-reads​ @preciouschimine​ @thoughtfulcollectormaker​ @pamzn​ @cherrybubblesandvodka​ @iwillwaitforyouinthedark @crish-mac​ @proflyndo​ @quentinmetsys @rjsmochii​ @kthvbear​ @hobiicores​ @wholys-corner​

#bts #bts smau #bts social media #bts au #bts social media au #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts imagines #bts fake scenarios #bts fake texts #bts x reader #bts taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #tae x reader #tae smau #taehyung smau #v smau #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts j hope #bts hobi #bts hoseok #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts v #bts jungkook

[kenjiro-kun]

A New Target: Chapter One (Part 1)

Apex Legends

‼️ Fem Reader ‼️

Words: 989

---

Bloodhound sat with their axe laid on the table. It was told that the woman from before was a newly added legend, information about her was kept a secret for entertainment, and that almost ended her life. If it weren’t for Bloodhound and Anita being as great as they were, the little trick would’ve been only painful and in vain.

Bloodhound huffed, the mask muffling it to a silent growl. “Hey’o Houndy.” They found a great. . . friend of theirs causally enter their room with no permission. “What’s on ya mind?”

“Nothing to be concerned about.” They replied, hopefully it would end the conversation they didn’t want to indulge in.

“Sure, nothing, huh?” Fuse made himself at home, not like it wasn’t already a common occurrence for his presence. Bloodhound was used to it, sometimes they waited for it. “You may have been able to fool others, but me? I see all.”

“Is that so?” Bloodhound chuckled quietly. “What do you see?”

Fuse heard the small sound from them, but although his chest swelled, it wasn’t time to get overly excited about it. He took a seat near Bloodhound, resting his chin on his cupped hands on the neck of the chair. “It was quite a surprise to see someone fall from the sky--well not that much, but certainly during a game? I don’t know what to think, worse enough to deal with Maggie, but you saw that lady fall--know her?”

Bloodhound shook their head. “She is unfamiliar.”

Fuse groaned. “Figures.”

“Why are you interested in this woman?”

“I’m not the only one who is curious, this whole ship is! And now. . . a new planet location? I’m all in for the ride; I’d like to get a letter at least, heh.”

“She showed herself capable of holding her own.” Bloodhound traced their finger along their axe. “She won the game for us.”

“Yeah, she did! Made a lot of people angry too, but I guess they didn’t care.” Fuse laughed. “I wonder where she is, Pathy got her bad didn’t she? Sucks, I’d like to bloody meet her the minute she’s healed.”

“I know where she is.” Bloodhound said.

Fuse smiled. “Do ya now?”

“Ye--” The ship shook. “Another time then.” They took their axe, and hooked it to their waist. “We have some exploring to do, unless you wish to stay here.”

“I’m gonna get some shut eye.” Fuse stretched. “That battle made me sore.”

Bloodhound smirked. “As you wish.”

***

She didn’t know where she was, nor did she care enough to dwell on the thought. She could figure she was in a medical center by the atmosphere alone. She sat up, wincing, the faint throbbing sensation along her torso reminded her of the events prior to her injuries. She forced herself to the door, pushing it open and walking through. Everything was too true to be told, she wasn't gifted with the ability to watch the games, but stories from those that did, it was horrifying in person.

She stared deep through the window, past her reflection was familiar lands. Her home was being used as an arena, well a small portion. She continued her strain. She didn’t know her purpose here, was she another figure for entertainment? She didn’t want anything, the games gave her no reason, not like the others that fought day and night.

“You.” She turned her head to meet a familiar face. “Do you have a death wish?” Before the woman could speak, Anita took the back of her pure white hospital gown. “Ajay took her time to aid you, it’s best to not ruin that.”

“I don’t belong here!” The woman tried to pry Anita’s grip, but she was too strong and stubborn to let go.

“I don’t care where you belong, you want those wounds to open up? Keep walking.” Anita jerked the woman, walking past her with the same emotionless expression.

“Why are you people here?” Anita stopped. “This is my home.”

“And you are representing your home, by choice, or not.” She didn’t bother to stay any longer. She took steps back, meeting with the window again, she stood and watched.

***

Bloodhound wandered around. The cold and blinding snow gave them deja vu. Following their instincts, Bloodhound found nothing peculiar about the new planet, certainly nothing beneficial in terms of protection in a fight. Artur flew above, closely watching Bloodhound and the surroundings.

“Out and about, too, mm?” Loba stood on top of a snow mound, her body clothed to protect herself from the unwelcomed cold.

“It is wise to explore.” Bloodhound spoke.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Loba slid down the mound, her heels leaving two parallel lines. “Or did you want to escape such a confined space?”

“Haven’t put thought into it.” Bloodhound felt Artur land on their shoulder. “Just. . . wandering.”

“Is that so. . . That woman,” Bloodhound was almost done hearing about her. “You’ve probably already been bombarded with questions, Anita was with you, mmm, maybe in my dreams. Take care.”

Bloodhound felt a nagging sense at their neck, Artur along with them turned back to the ship to see the woman looking down at them with a sorrowful expression. Were they shamed, or afraid? Perhaps they were both. Loba was long gone now, and now it was their turn to return to the ship. With one step, they went forth, but in an instance their foot sept deeper than normal into the snow. They kneel down, digging to uncover a crack in the ground that led to a small fire at the bottom. They went back to recall the woman at the window, but she was gone from where she stood.

“Take note of this Artur.” They spoke. “I don’t think this is just a new location to fight, perhaps a big evil is approaching.”

They made their way back to the ship, a trail behind them that was soon covered up by a winter storm.

[archieism]

🥀💫

i promise you if we’re friends i also really want to talk to you more. my life lately just feels like... i’m in a boat with 20 holes in it, but every free moment i have from filling buckets and dumping it out to plug the holes themselves, i know i only have the physical capacity to plug 5 of them and it’s a matter of choosing which ones, because either way, there will be 15 other holes that are just as important as the 5 i chose that will go unaddressed and making a mess that i’m pretty sure i’ll never actually find the time or energy to fully and completely fix.

send an emoji on anon or not to tell me what level we are on

#anonymous #answered #does this even make sense #like i already sucked at dealing with my own presence on this planet before i got a full time job and now that i have one.. #my mental and physical capacity to Do Things is exhausted just by working and then coming home to decompress and do it all over again #until my day off which i spend having anxiety over 'patching holes' activities and feeling like i'm wasting my free time #and then woops day off over back to 'filling buckets and dumping it out' activities #and it's just a cycle of that as i try to save up to finally move out with my siblings and just #finally get away from such a shitty environment #i'm really really hoping then i can get a part time job with the knowledge that #i can barely function at all on full time #(like anyone can lmao) #capitalism is going to unironically kill me one day! #until then my friendships have just been decent or awkward conversations for a month and then radio silence for 4 more #and i feel as i talk about myself in the tags for 10mins i need the disclaimer that none of my online friends are obligated to deal w this #this message could've rightly been sent by ANY of my online friends because i do this to like all of them #and i'm a shitty friend and if it's just too much or not enough for any of you to deal with that's okay #no hard feelings; it's shitty to feel like you're being ignored #and in a time where a Lot of people have to choose where they can afford to direct what little they have of energy i #it's completely understandable #damn yeah sorry for rambling in the tags #i don't wanna feel defensive as much as just.. communicating where i'm at but i'm sure a lot of it is just feeling defensive #but that's a me thing not an anyone elses' thing #BUT I'M DONE RAMBLING #i promise anon whichever friend you are you're a good one and an amazing person and even better listener #and as i try to revive my friendships once again after months of silence i can promise it's from a place of genuine interest #but you're also under no obligation to hop back on the wagon with me since i'm very likely just to fall back off of it again #from no fault of yours! and i wish you well regardless and hope these horrifically long tags don't distract from that lmao god

[mandospace]

My Moon (Boba Fett x Virgin!Reader Smut)

Request: Hey!! I really enjoy reading your fics <3 I don't know if you still take requests but if so, maybe something with current older Boba? Virgin, touch starved reader who is so kind but never gets kindness in return? Crushin' on Boba but you don't think he'd ever want you. Thank you for reading. <3

Requested By: @ortizshinkaroff​

Word Count: 5,041

Warnings: SMUT! If you are under 18, DO NOT INTERACT! Swearing, dry humping, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), PinV sex, innocence kink, virgin reader

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this... like, a lot. If Boba could take my virginity like this I would DIE! Anyways, my requests are open so send in any Din or Boba requests you’d like me to write! I hope you all enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“Right behind you, mesh’la,” Boba passed behind you, his large hand splayed against the small of your back as he squeezed past. His touch was fleeting, only a momentary brush of his fingers over the dip of your back, but its effect was lasting. Heat coursed through your body like a tidal wave. It was burning on your cheeks and you ducked your head away from his gaze. He didn’t even notice your reaction to his touch, he just continued on his way up to the cockpit of Slave One, like it was no big deal to touch you. Yet here you were, nearly hyperventilating as you tried to calm your racing heart.

He shouldn’t have this much of an effect on you.

Kriff, he could just look at you and you’d melt into a puddle. You weren’t sure if it was the green and red armor, his walk, his broadness, his voice, his touch-

Oh, who were you kidding? It was everything about him. He was perfect, like the Maker hand-crafted him just for you. Gave him all of the qualities that you look for in a partner- strong, brave, incredibly handsome. He was both heaven and hell for you. Heaven to look at, hell to be near. 

You were perpetually stuck in hell. Boba was nothing but kind to you, always treated you well. Protected you on hunts and provided you with everything you could ever want. Every glance he gave you, every story of his past he bestowed upon you, every lingering touch made you want the older bounty hunter. It was almost painful being around him. He was like a roaring fire that kept you warm but if you got too close, he would surely burn you. 

That small little touch had set your soul aflame. You tried to calm down your racing heart and stop the images that flashed in your mind. You wondered how it would feel to be with him. The image of him coming back from a hunt, dirty and exhausted, pressing your body against the metal hull of his ship made your pussy throb with need. You had never been touched by anyone before, but you wanted him to touch you. To take you apart at your seams and put you back together just so that he could do it all over again. Your eyes fluttered closed at the thought of his large hands mapping out your body, leaving sparks in their wake. A breathy moan slipped past your lips and you rested your head against the cool metal of his ship. You needed to get a hold of yourself.

“Are you okay, mesh’la?” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts of him pressing into you. Heat flushed over your skin and your eyes opened in surprise.

“Y-yeah, why?” you cleared your throat, hating how desperate you sounded.

“I heard you moaning. I thought you were hurt,” he strode up to you and cupped your face in his hand. The worn leather felt delicious against your skin and his warmth seeped into your cheek. You flushed again.

“I just stubbed my toe,” you lied through your teeth. His forefinger and thumb gripped your chin and Boba tilted your face up towards his. He had never touched you for this long before, this intimately, and his dark eyes peered into your own. If he didn’t stop this, you were going to do something embarrassing. Like kiss him. He wouldn’t want that. “I’m fine.”

His eyes narrowed. “Be careful, princess.” Boba tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before walking back to the cockpit. His touch lingered and it felt like there were live wires littering your skin. You could still feel the pressure of his fingers gripping your chin.

Maker, you had to get a hold of yourself. You couldn’t think about your employer like this. Boba wouldn’t want someone like you, he would want someone stronger and more beautiful. A woman who knew what she was doing both in and out of bed, not some floundering girl that became flustered after one touch. He deserved better than you. Your brain told you all of these things, anxiety pilling on top of each other. The weight sat on your chest and threatened to push you under.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you got back to work. The day quickly passed on the ship due to its regulated timer. Even though the two of you were hurtling through hyperspace, the ship’s internal clock dimmed the lights in accordance with a planetary cycle. You had worked on many different projects during the day, fixing weapons and repairing the various mechanics found in the ship. You tried to distract yourself from the memory of Boba’s touch on your skin. He was so close to you earlier today, his scent so much more powerful due to his proximity. He smelled of blaster residue and rain. He smelled like home.

Shaking your head to dispel the thoughts of Boba, you made your way towards the cockpit to wish him a goodnight. He was in his pilot’s seat, fingers programming coordinates into the ship’s navigation system. The white streaks of stars and planets passing by the ship shined on his painted beskar armor. His helmet was placed on the passenger seat, black visor reflecting the light. He didn’t notice when you came in, or at least he didn’t give any indication that he did.

“I’m heading to bed,” your voice was small, worried that you were bothering him. “Just wanted to say goodnight.”

“C’mere, mesh’la,” Boba turned his seat to face you and held out his hand. His eyes searched your face, looking for any hesitation. Sucking in a breath, you made your way to him. He grabbed your hand when you were close enough and tugged you towards him. You stumbled over your feet until you came to a stop between his spread legs.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he squeezed your hand tighter and looked up into your eyes. You felt your heart stop when his free hand reached up to caress your face, gloved thumb gliding over your cheekbone. “You’ve been a bit... off lately.”

Heat coursed through your veins in embarrassment. You weren’t as slick as you thought you were in hiding your feelings for the older bounty hunter. You tried to say something, anything, but you just stood there- gaping like a fish out of water.

“You can tell me, mesh’la,” Boba tugged on your arm again. This time you couldn’t go any further forward and you fell into his lap. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. The other brought your legs up and over so that you were sitting sideways across his lap. His thumb started tracing patterns into the skin above your knee. “Please. You’re scaring me.”

He was so close to you in this position. His dark eyes met yours and your heart sputtered inside your chest. It would be so easy to just reach out and learn what his scarred cheek would feel like against your palm. So easy to pull him towards you and kiss him.

“Mesh’la.” his tone was pleading and the hand tracing patterns on your skin moved up your leg to grip your hip tightly. You couldn’t help but suck in a shaky breath at his touch. Your eyes dropped down to his chapped lips and you wondered what they would feel like against yours.

“I-“ your voice came out choked, the words stuck in your throat. Being this close to him was intoxicating. His very presence was like a drug to you. How were you going to explain to him that you wished he would take everything from you, take everything you had to offer? To take you on every surface of his prized ship until you were screaming his name?

“Girly, you’re driving me crazy with your silence,” Boba growled low in his chest. The hand on your hip moved up to grip your chin, making you look at him. “Tell me, mesh’la.”

The pressure of his thumb and forefinger gripping your chin and his proximity was too much. His scent was overwhelming. Everything about Boba was too much. Before you could stop yourself, your hand came up and tugged his face towards yours. Your lips crashed against his and fireworks that could rival the destruction of the Death Star erupted behind your eyes.

Boba groaned against your lips, his hand holding your jaw moved up and into your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks. His tongue swiped at the seam of your lips, begging for access which you happily granted him. Your tongue pushed against his and you couldn’t help how you pulled him even closer with both hands. The feeling of him biting your bottom lip made you whimper.

“Boba,” you whined against his lips when the need for air became too great. Need for him pooled in your underwear embarrassingly fast. He had barely touched you and you were already soaking through your panties.

“Mesh’la,” Boba moaned against your skin, his lips trailing across your face and down your neck. He stopped over your pulse point, sucking a dark mark into the skin that was sure to last weeks. His lips made their way back up to yours and pulled you into a bruising kiss. He wasted no time before he licked into your mouth. You had no idea that he even remotely reciprocated your feelings. When you had leaned in to kiss him, you were almost positive that he would push you off his lap in disgust. You never would have predicted that he would want you too.

“Need you,” Boba groaned against your lips, nipping your bottom lip again. The hand in your hair moved down and gripped your hip to reposition you in his lap. He grabbed at your thigh and tugged so that you were now straddling him, your legs on either side of his and pressing against the arms of his chair. Boba rolled his hips up into you and you felt the prominent bulge that was straining against the fabric of his flight suit.

Gasping, you pulled away from Boba in shock. Once again heat flushed through your veins, pooling low in your stomach and resting on your cheeks. His hands gripped your hips and ground your clothed center onto him, rolling his hips up to yours in time. The feeling of him pressing against where you needed him most was too much. You had never done this kind of thing before and you had no idea what you were doing. You didn’t want to disappoint him. “Wait.”

Boba’s lips paused against the skin of your neck before pulling back to look at you. One of his hands released their grip on your hip to cup your cheek. “What’s wrong, ner me'suum'ika?”

You were momentarily thrown off by this new name he called you. You knew it was Mando’a, just like the one he usually called you, but you never knew what he was saying. Blinking away your distraction, you met his dark eyes. “I’ve, um, never done... this.”

Boba looked up at you in confusion. “Done what?”

You were positive that you were burning hotter than any sun at that moment. Here you were, straddling the man of your dreams, his hard length throbbing against you, and you had to admit to him that you were a virgin. That you haven’t done anything before and that you couldn’t please him in the way you wanted to, the way he deserved. “I’m a virgin.”

He blinked twice at you, absorbing your words before a chuckle sounded from his chest. Dread dropped in your stomach like a rock until he opened his mouth. “That doesn’t bother me, ner me'suum'ika. If you want to stop we can stop.”

His soft words warmed you from the inside out. Boba gave you such a soft look when he told you those comforting words. He gently pulled your face to his and placed a soft kiss against your lips. While you loved how soft and gentle he was being with you right now, it wasn’t what you needed. You needed to feel Boba inside of you.

You experimentally rolled your hips over his clothed length, basking in Boba’s moan. His hand returned to your hip and he pulled you closer against him, rubbing his hard cock against you. “Mesh’la, we don’t have to-”

“I want to,” you cut him off with another roll of your hips. The feeling of his hard cock pressed against your core was incredible. With every roll of your hips, the fabric of your panties grinded against your clit in the most delicious way possible. The feeling of Boba pressing into you and his lips on yours was driving you crazy. You needed more of him. “Just-” the words caught in your throat when he pressed his cock against you, rubbing against your clit. “-have to show me how.”

Boba’s eyes darkened with lust at your words. A growl ripped through his chest and his grip on you tightened. “Fuck, baby, I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.”

He crashed his lips against yours and he rolled his hips into you. Your lips parted in a gasp at the feeling of his throbbing length and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth once more. Your hands traced down his chest, trailing over the cool green beskar. Stopping the motions of your hips, your hand palmed his cock through the material of his pants. He felt so big in your small hand and you haven’t even seen him yet. You went to unbutton his pants and release his throbbing length but he stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

“Not yet, ner me'suum'ika,” Boba tsked, pulling your hand away from his groin. 

“But I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Not yet, baby,” he grinned and pulled your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. “I’ve got to get you ready for me first.”

Boba stood up from his chair and grabbed your waist. You squealed at his quick motions and the sensation of falling but he easily pulled you against him and wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you through the hull of his ship and into his chambers before setting you down on his bed. Boba stood between your spread legs and took in the sight of you- chest heaving, hair wild, eyes dark, and lips swollen from his kisses. Maker, he wanted to take you right then and there but he had to be gentle and take his time with you.

Leaning over you, Boba pressed his lips to yours before trailing down your neck. Sighing his name, you relished in the feeling of Boba’s lips against your skin and his hands roaming your body. His large hands pushed the hem of your shirt up, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. He kept tugging up until your shirt was discarded somewhere in his room. Boba cupped your covered breasts and moaned at the feeling of your pillowy flesh. He dipped his head down and pressed kisses over your breasts, licking and sucking marks into your skin. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty,” Boba kissed up your throat. He reached behind you to undo your bra, tossing it to the floor so it could join your shirt. His thumbs brushed over your nipples and a soft moan slipped past your lips. Boba had barely touched you but the pleasure was already too much. 

“Boba,” you whined and tugged his face up to yours so you could capture his lips in a kiss. You trailed your hands down his armored chest, stopping right above his trousers. Gripping his hard cock, you moaned into the kiss. “Please.”

“Eager, are we?” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, ner me'suum'ika, I’ll take care of you.” His lips began to trail down your body, hands cupping and squeezing whatever soft flesh they could grab. Boba licked at one of your pert nipples and smiled when your breath caught in your throat. He made his way down your body and unbuttoned your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your underwear. The garments fell to the floor and Boba laid down between your spread legs, drinking in the sight of your sopping pussy. Your eyes screwed shut when he trailed a gloved finger through your dripping folds, collecting your arousal on the worn leather. Boba’s eyes were dark and the grin on his face was devious when he sucked on his finger, licking away your juices. His resounding moan made your hips buck in need. “Taste so good, mesh’la. Can I taste you again?”

His eyes met yours from between your legs, silently asking for your permission. All you could do was nod your head eagerly, the excitement and pleasure already building up. The answering smile on his face was beautiful, a bright white against his tan skin. Before you could commit the sight to memory, Boba dropped his head and licked a broad stripe between your folds. His tongue was searing against your core- unlike anything you’ve ever felt. The air left your lungs in a gasp at how good it felt to have his tongue on you. Boba licked at your cunt, gathering up and tasting your arousal before he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking hard. You moaned loudly- a little bit embarrassed at the sound he drew from you- but you couldn’t care less. Boba Fett was between your legs, lapping at your pussy like a man trapped in a desert and you were the only source of water for miles.

“Oh!” expletives constantly fell from your lips as he continued his delicious torture on your cunt. You could feel him smirking against your folds, proud that he was making you feel this good with just his mouth alone. The pleasure built up inside of you, threatening to spill over. Boba’s tongue dipped down to your entrance, drinking you in. He brought his gloved hand up to your folds, circling your clit before dipping down to where his tongue licked. Pressing in, Boba worked his finger inside of your tight cunt. It was only one finger but the feeling of it curling against your walls made you throw your head back against his pillows and arch your back in pleasure. Boba just smirked and wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, pushing another finger into your fluttering hole.

“Got to open you up so you can take me, ner me'suum'ika,” Boba hummed against your folds, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. He started to push a third finger into you, the pain of him opening you up stinging just a bit. “Maker, you’re so tight around my fingers. I can’t wait to feel you on my cock.”

His words were like an electric shock to your system. “Please,” you begged, grinding your pussy against his face and fingers. You could feel the coil inside of you tighten as he curled his middle finger against the bundle of nerves. “I want you.”

“Not yet,” Boba chuckled lightly, pumping into your pussy at a faster pace. “I want you to come for me first. Do you think you could do that? Come all over my fingers and mouth?”

Your jaw dropped at his filthy words, mouth forming an ‘o.’ You had never experienced this much pleasure before- your hands had never made you feel this good. You wondered if sex always felt like this or if it was just because of the bounty hunter between your legs. His fingers brushed against that spot inside of you and his tongue flicked your clit and before you knew it you were cumming on his fingers and mouth just like he wanted you to. Your back arched and your hands gripped the sheets under you tightly, a cry of pleasure echoed off the metal walls. It felt like you were floating above your body, watching you cum as Boba licked at your pussy, prolonging your pleasure. Soon enough you were crashing back to reality and the feeling of him continuously lapping at your cunt became too much. 

“Boba,” you choked out, trying to push his face away from your pussy. Before the overstimulation became too much, he pulled his fingers out of you. His eyes seemed darker than they were before as he stared up at you from between your legs. The sight of your cum smeared over his lips and chin made your heart falter in your heaving chest. 

“Did so good for me, mesh’la,” Boba cooed, pressing a kiss to your clit before he climbed his way back up your body. He pressed his lips against yours and you could taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss was passionate and it took what little breath you had away. You had never felt this much pleasure before and you desperately wanted to return the favor. You wanted to know what he tasted like. 

“Not now, little one,” Boba stopped your hand that was palming his hard length through his pants. You whined against his lips but he just chuckled and gave you a quick kiss. “Tonight’s about you. I want to make you feel good.”

“Sucking your cock would make me feel good,” you mumbled against his lips. Boba’s eyes widened at your words, shocked that you could be so dirty. Heat flashed over your cheeks. 

“You’ll get your chance,” Boba smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Trust me, I want to watch you try to take me in your mouth but that’s for another time. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

You couldn’t argue with him when he used such sound logic. Him voicing that he wanted to be inside of you made your pussy throb with need. Nodding your head, you pulled him into another kiss before he stepped back from you and began to shed his armor. 

He was so broad with his green and red armor, but somehow he looked even bigger when he stripped his clothes off his body. Silver scars littered his skin, each one had a story and you desperately wanted to learn them while you traced your lips over each and every one. Boba smirked at the hungry look in your eyes as he took off his clothes. He knew he wasn’t the best looking man in the galaxy but the way you looked at him made him feel like he was. His cock pulsed in his pants with the need to be inside of you. He couldn’t wait any longer after months of dreaming about it. Boba tugged down his pants, freeing his aching cock.

Boba’s cock sprung free and the sight of him, all of him, made you gulp. He was so big, you weren’t sure how he would fit inside of you. His cock was both long and thick, and while you didn’t have anything to compare it to, you were positive that he was well above average. “I don’t think it will fit.”

Boba’s laugh was rich as it bounced off the metal walls of his chambers. “Don’t worry, ner me'suum'ika. It’ll fit, we just have to take it slow.”

You nodded at his words and scooted up his bed, making room for the bounty hunter. Boba leaned over you, arms on either side of your head. His large frame trapped you beneath him. Boba nudged his nose against yours before he captured your lips in a kiss. “Are you sure about this, mesh’la?”

“Of course,” your hand cradled the back of his head and you pressed your forehead against his. “There’s no one else I’d rather do this with.”

Boba was usually a very composed man- never one to show his emotions. But you pressing your forehead against his, unknowingly giving him a keldabe kiss, and saying those words made him flush visibly. The blush that dusted his tan, scarred cheeks was beautiful. Before he could do something stupid, like confess his feelings for you, Boba pressed his lips tenderly against yours. 

Taking hold of his cock, he pumped his long shaft a few times before he dragged the tip through your wet folds that were dripping with your cum. A shiver ran down his spine at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your wet pussy. Boba notched the tip at your entrance, slowly rolling his hips forward and pushing into your tight cunt.

It was slightly painful, Boba’s cock pushing into you. He took it slow, only giving you an inch of his length at a time, letting you rest inbetween and grow accustomed to him. Soon enough, pain melted into pleasure and Boba bottomed out, the wiry hair at the base of his cock brushing against your clit. Your chest was heaving and you could already feel the pleasure building up inside of you again. Boba pressed another kiss to your lips, groaning at the feeling of your walls tightly clamping down on him. You were so tight around him and you felt absolutely perfect. It was like you were made for him. 

“Can I move, ner me'suum'ika?” Boba panted, trying to restrain himself from pounding into you. Burying your face into his neck, you nodded and pressed a small kiss to his pulse point. Drawing his hips back, Boba grit his teeth at the feeling of your velvet walls dragging over his cock. He paused with just the tip of his cock in you, giving you a moment to adjust before he ground back into you. The sounds that you made were heavenly- breathless moans and whimpers mumbled against his skin. Boba slowly rolled his hips into yours, setting a languid pace. 

Your nails raked down his strong back when the head of his cock brushed against that bundle of nerves. A gasp left your parted lips and you moaned his name, unintentionally clenching around his hard length. Boba’s hips stuttered against yours and he pulled your face back up to his. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last,” he sheepishly admitted, nudging his nose against yours. A sly smile made its way onto your lips and the sight of you beneath him made Boba drop his forehead to yours. You felt too good.

“Me neither,” you captured his lips in yours and Boba picked up the pace now that you were used to him. The feeling of him grinding his hips into yours, cock pulsing hot inside of you had you seeing stars. He once again found that spot inside of you and you gasped, “there!”

Boba grabbed your leg and brought it up and over his hip, pushing deeper into you at this new angle. His fingers dug into your thigh and he could feel your release approaching with every brush of his cock against that bundle of nerves. Your breathing was picking up and the moans slipped past your lips faster. Boba brought his thumb down to your cunt, rough pad circling your clit. Your back arched and your chest pressed against his. The feeling of him dragging against your walls and his thumb working circles into your clit was becoming too much.

“Boba, I-” your words were cut off by a sob, tears began to form at the corners of your eyes. You could feel your orgasm approaching faster than before.

“I know, I can feel it,” Boba groaned into your mouth, picking up the pace of both his thrusts and thumb. Your walls were clenching around him and he could feel his own release building inside of him. “Come for me, ner me'suum'ika,” his hips snapped against yours and he licked into your mouth. “Cum all over my cock.”

It was too much- his cock, his thumb, his words- and you came crashing down like a meteor. His name fell from your lips repeatedly in sobs and cries of pleasure. Your nails were digging into the skin of his back and you were positive that you were leaving angry red marks on his tan skin. 

The walls of your cunt clamped down around his cock and he could feel the juices of your release coating him. His hips pistoned against yours as he chased his own high. “Where?” Boba moaned against your lips, feeling his balls start to pull up tight with his impending release. 

“In me,” you mumbled into his mouth. You were still reeling from your release, drunk on Boba. You needed to know what it felt like for him to cum inside of you. “Come for me, Boba.”

Your sultry words pushed him over the edge and he grunted and groaned as he spurted his cum inside of you. The warmth of his seed painting your walls was something you’d never forget- you’d cherish this moment forever. 

Boba’s hips stilled and he could feel the need for sleep overcoming him. You were so warm, so soft- Boba wanted this for the rest of his days. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, gingerly placing a kiss at the edge of his mouth. Boba cupped your face and pulled you into a proper kiss, tongue swiping over your bottom lip. 

“For what?” he questioned, pulling out of you with a groan. Your combined releases spilled onto his sheets, soaking them, but he could care less. 

“For this,” you pressed your face into his chest as he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame. 

“It was an honor, ner me'suum'ika,” Boba placed a tender kiss on your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. You smelled like home.

“What does that mean?” you yawned, nuzzling further into him. “Ner me-me’suu-”

“It means ‘my moon,’“ Boba smiled into your hair. “Is it... is it okay if I call you that?”

“More than okay,” you were glad that he couldn’t see your face because of how flushed it was. You pressed a kiss to his chest. “What can I call you?”

“Whatever you’d like, ner me'suum'ika,” his eyes started to drift close. “I’m yours.”  

______

Mando’a Translations:

Mesh’la = beautiful

Ner me'suum'ika = my moon

#boba fett x reader #boba fett smut #boba fett x you #boba fett x y/n #boba fett imagine #boba fett masterlist #boba fett oneshot #boba fett one shot #boba fett fanfic #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fic #boba fett drabble #boba x reader #boba smut #boba x you #boba x y/n #boba imagine #boba oneshot #boba one shot #boba drabble #boba fanfic #boba fanfiction #boba fic

[thefanbasewhore]

“You can hold my hand if you want.”

Summary: [Number 45 from the prompt list, "You can hold my hand if you want."] Din's search for a bounty leaves reader tired and unable to keep up with him but Din has an idea that will slow him down. 

Warning/Content: soft fluffy din 🥺 relationship is not established between characters (yet lol) but yeah, Din is a touched starved beskar babe 🪐

Paring: Din Djarin/female reader

click here for my tag list! || Masterlist. 

“Let’s go.” The words catch the static of the hissing vocoder making her eyes shift to him with confusion. The planet they landed on was one she never heard of before somewhere far in the galaxy but none the less looked like any other planet. The Mandalorian had been tracking this bounty for weeks but that’s not was surprising, no man or woman is a matching for him. It’s the fact he pushes the button on his arm and sunlight squints eyes as it lower with a slow hiss. “This planet is a scumhole, I’m not leaving the kid or you here on the ship alone, let’s go, he’s close.”

The fob beeps with flashing red to prove him right. She doesn’t reply just nods an understanding while the child is tucked into the bag that lies across the beskar clad chest. She tries to move but the sudden close proximity of him only inches away from her face makes her freeze, gloves reach for the sling of the bad lifting it over his head to lay it against her shoulders watching the way it forms between the valley of her breast - it’s tempting, hard not to tilt his head when they’re so close but with a deep breath he manages to keep his eyes against hers. “I want him to stay with you. Use your blaster if you have to and if I said run, you run, understand?”

It’s a silent nod, eyes averting his gaze at all costs while it’s not intentional she can’t help how nervous she feels under the gaze of the visor but gloved fingers bump the point of her chin to gently lift to what she guessed is his eyes. “I need to hear you say it. You and the child’s safety comes first.”

“I understand Mando..Shoot anyone that’s not you and run.” Even through the gloves he can feel the softness of smooth skin and wishes he could stay here forever with his fingers pressed against her cheeks but the act is too intimate for just partners. There are so many lonely, sleepless nights Din has to remind himself that it’s not more than that, nothing more then a business deal. 

The sun was bright, temporarily blinding the trio as the reach the threshold of warmth from the outside, the heaviness of his boots already carry on before she can even realize he’s heading towards the woods, taking long strides that still were no match for the Mandalorian. 

By the time they reached civilization the sun started to set over the horizon, a small yawn from the woman a few feet behind him has him turning over his shoulder to see the exhaustion etched across soft features. He stops for a second as he squeezes his first with frustration, it’s aimed towards himself mostly guilt because well he’s been trained his whole life to be a warrior, to be able to endure walking for hours but the woman who doesn’t realize he’s stopped and crashed into the hardness of his back with a soft ‘oof’ isn’t built for such things. 

“Are you...” He turns to face her, eyes shifting from drooping eyes to watch her cross her arms around her chest to rub palms against the bare skin of her arms, goosebumps rising as the body’s attempt to keep internal heat as she feels fingers beginning to numb from the last few hours. “Are you cold?”

Before she can even answer leather gloves reach behind his head to bunch the cape and pull it from the collar and drape it over her shoulders. It’s thick, dirty and torn in some places but was instantly warms the tingling skin.

“Just a few more hours, he’s in town and then we can go back, I know you’re tired.” His hands never leave her shoulders as an attempt to warm the skin, press closer for his body almost flushes against her own shivering body. 

“I’m fine, baby is asleep though. I’ll be right behind you, promise.” He doesn’t like the though of leaving her behind, drifting unprotected behind him all because he didn’t know how to slow down. No matter how much the helmet helped enhance his senses it wasn’t always guaranteed especially with the linger presence of the woman that scrambles his brain, he couldn’t concentrate with her so close.

“Come, I want you in front of me.” She knows the hand against her back doesn’t mean much just a means of a way to direct her towards the front of him. One foot in front of the other, he wonders how someone can be so slow but still manage to be so noisy. It can’t be stopped, the way his chest hits her back with accidental force, long nights of discipline make it almost impossible to not walk over here.

He takes a deep breath, stopping just to give her a few feet to walk before his one stride meets with her again, he let’s out a frustrated huff that makes her turn towards him. “I’m sorry Mando, I’m trying. I don’t -.”

The way her voice falters as her voice drops with frustration to meet his own. Despite not being able to keep up with him, running through the woods for hours with no food or water but still managed to fight against screaming legs and an aching back, he was impressed to say the least, she’s always filled with such an intense fire and he couldn’t help but drift towards it. He wishes she would realize how strong she is, see herself through his eyes. 

Din tenses behind as the words almost fall effortlessly from his lips, “You can hold my hand..if you want too.” 

Cheeks turning red under the helmet and for more times then he can count he’s glad for the shield that separates him from the outside world. It’s starting to get hot, her gaze across his skin heating the nape of his neck, words fumbling out in embarrassment, rejection as moves his extended arms back towards him. “This way I know I’m going to fast.”

One heavy boot touches the ground as his attempt to get as far as possible from the lingering silence. She knows it takes a lot from his to offer this, to say those words and for the moment is too shocked to move. It’s uncharacteristic, the way his fingers touched her chin early, took his own source of heat to wrap it around her shoulders as well as rub the smooth skin of her hands and then offering this. 

Before he could manage to stride ahead, small fingers reach for his forearm to stop him, a small smile makes his heart jump in his chest. He’s thankful they’re still in the wood, no one here to see how ridiculous he looks stiffening with her touch, his throat drying as the hand slides down the whole length of his arm to fill the gaps of his fingers with her own. Din tries not to stare, a heavy haze of tension filling the air.

It’s unspoken but truthfully had been lingering for months but even though it’s not bare skin, it’s intensified and he can’t help but stare at the roundness of her bottom lip as his other hand reaches up to press a thumb against the plumpness, moving closer and closer but stopping with as his helmet bumps against her forehead with a small gasp of pain.

His cheeks are ablaze as he can’t believe he forgot that the helmet was there. Her touch temporarily blinded him, all senses void the only thing that mattered was how beautiful she looked in that moment, tiredness weighing down eyelids, lips swollen from sucking on them. A breath is stuck inside his throat with realization, her own curious gaze lifting to meet his eyes then down to his lips exposing just what he wanted to do. “Kifff, are you alright I didn’t mean-.”

His own words drop as the small fingers press against the coldness of the helm, the decreasing temperature didn’t help the shivering but at the moment she can’t care less. Her head tilts slightly pressing a kiss against the coolness of the beskar right where he lips lie under it. It’s not what he wants but all that can be given in the current predicament. It’s the way unsure eyes roam over the helm looking for any reinsurance but is only met with the coldness of zero emotions but the lingering is so sweet he feels his ears ring, lips twitch with the briefest smile.

He pauses, can’t move due to the way the linger thought of how those lips would feel against his own, against his skin. If this was the feeling he got from just them lingering against his helm he can’t imagine the way his body will explode with goosebumps, he feels something stir deep inside him. He wants to turn around and return to the crest to continue this in the dark, wants to feel his skin flushing hers but he hesitantly pulls his fingers from her cheeks with a shaky sigh.

“Let’s go.” Fingers tighten their hold on his own, pressing his forehead against the heated one in front of him. “Stay close sweet girl, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

tags: @victias , @altarsw, @coonflix, @mudhornchronicles, @buckysalefty, @capsheadquaters, @ilikemymendarkandfictional, @maileecabudol, @mermaidbrina​, @godohammers​, @nikkixostan​, @fangirlmendes 

#din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the mandolorian imagine #the mandolorian x reader

[damn-stark]

Lightning pt.3

Thor Odinson x Odinsdottir!reader, Loki Laufeyson x Odinsdottir!reader

Summary: After the death of your brother Loki, and Frigga, things in Asgard change drastically, just like your father. Where he was cold and distant before, now he’s caring and attentive. And you didn’t mind his change, in fact you loved that he had this new time for you, yet when you find out the truth behind his actions, how will you react?

Warning- Fluff, violence, angst

———-

Bright colors flew past you as you were suddenly traveling through the rainbow bridge up to Asgard, traveling at a speed that you were used to and could handle, but one that was overwhelming at the moment because of the fact that you were being chased by some new and psychotic older sister.

You had the instinct to throw her off course. But when you looked down, as you were going to attempt hitting her, you noticed your older brothers were in the way and you couldn’t hit her without accidentally hurting them.

Yet you had to try something, she was catching up too fast—“Loki!”

At your warning said man looks down at the threat below him and tries to throw her a dagger through the whirlwind of colors surrounding all you, but as he did, she swiftly caught his dagger and threw it back at him, throwing him off course with one hit and causing you to yell out for him, “Loki! No!”

You watch as Hela catches up to Thor and begins to fist fight with him, creating a sword to hurt him, but before she could, using the rage building up within you after she hurt Loki, you create a lightning bolt and throw it at her and manage to hit her arm. Thor finds a chance to get out of her grip and pushes her off him, but in doing so he pushes himself off the course and disappears just like Loki had. Leaving you to deal with Hela as she was trying to catch up to you too.

“You know I’ve always wanted a sister!” She exclaims through the rainbow bridge. “I’m happy to know that I have one now! Kneel and I'll spare you!”

You scoff and offer her a smug smirk, “you know I’ve also always wanted a sister! Give up on your foolish dreams and let’s go be what our father could never give us! A family!”

Hela rolls her eyes and creates a sword to attempt to hurl it at you, but as she tries, you also create a lightning bolt and throw it at her at the same time. Causing both objects to crash into each other and create a big explosion that throws you forward and back home, while she gets thrown back, giving you some time before she came to do something.

“Princess! What’s going on, where are your brothers?!”

You look back to Thor’s warrior friends and give them the answer they seeked with a shake of your head. You stretch your hands out and create more lightning bolts in both hands whilst you try to shout back at Volstagg. “Close it! Close it.”

The man doesn’t question you and before he could, he was too late and Helas figure had already taken shape at the entrance, she once again tried to throw a sword at you, but as it flew towards you, you caught the movement and moved at the speed of light. In doing so, slowing down everything around you.

Small sparks flashed around you and you had the chance to look at your surroundings much clearer, you had the chance to go towards the sword and clutch it in your own hand as an idea sparked in your head. Instead of throwing the sword at her, you threw it to the side and sprinted towards her to tackle her out of the bridge without caring that you would also fall out as it was closing.

However as you moved and were about to wrap your arms around her, you caught her eyes following you, somehow moving at your speed and creating a black dagger that she punctures through your chest, moving quickly and throwing you back to knock you out of your moment and forcing you back to normal speed—“shit,” you hiss.

You clutch onto your aching wound and wince, you try to refocus on your surroundings, on the fight going on in the same room, but your injury left you dazed and slow. You heard your blood pounding in your ears and saw your eyesight blur. The thought of giving up and staying on the ground sounded easy, it sounded like a pleasant dream, but the fighter within you didn’t allow you to just stay on the ground. You had to get up and fight back; for your planet, for your family and for your people.

So you roll onto your stomach and groan out loudly from the pain. You slowly push yourself up, but as you do, you feel someone else’s familiar presence in your head. Heimdall.

“You’ll die if you try to fight her. Your people appreciate your fighting efforts, Princess, but you’ll do them a better service if you escape now.”

You part your lips to rebuttal, but he cuts you off before you can.

“Don’t speak, you’ll give yourself away. Come find me and I’ll help you.”

An image flashes before you as if you were seeing the forest yourself and you knew that was your answer. So with what little strength you have left, you finally stand to your feet and speed away. Finding Heimdall exactly where he had shown you he’d be.

“Heimdall,” you groan, “I’m sorry, I'm sorry I didn’t do anything to stop him from kicking you out.”

Heimdall grabs your shoulder and assures you, “it’s not your fault, you were tricked by Loki, just like we all were.” He begins to walk you to sit on a large rock and has someone bring first aid. “Now let’s patch you up, you have to help your brothers return home.”

Your eyes brighten up and a hopeful smile tugs on your features. “They’re alive?”

“Yes and they need your help.” He informs, “you need to come back and fight your sister together.”

——

“He’s off again,” you mumble as you watch your father walk Thor off. “And he’s going to return in a couple days, but father acts as if he’s leaving for years on end. It’s my birthday and he’s gone all day without saying a word.”

Loki finally stands at your side and looks down at what you were watching and lets out a sigh before he tries his best to assure you. “Thor remembered, so did Frigga.”

“Not father.” You point out as you push yourself off the railing and begin to walk off. “Not like it’s a surprise.” You see Loki follow you at your side and he watches you carefully as you try to maintain unbothered. You walk to the throne room and look up to the portrait on the ceiling. “At least we’re up there right.”

“You know I can start teaching you some magic, or we can do something you like,” Loki suggests, “for your birthday or what not.”

You drop your head and look at him and shoot him a sweet smile. “I thought you said I couldn’t do magic.”

Loki shrugs, “maybe I was wrong and well it’s something to prove to father.”

“Okay,” you grin, “Sounds good.”

——

As you land in this unknown, ugly, trash planet, you begin to maneuver through the celebrating crowd and look for Thor.

Heimdall said he was here and you trusted him. Yet was it worth your energy coming to this weird planet.

….yes.

Nevertheless you avoid being pulled to where the crowd was going, and ignore the green monster they were all celebrating. You keep your eyes out for Loki, but he, like Thor, isn't around. No one let you talk to even try to ask for your brothers, and your wound was hurting making everything much harder and everyone much more annoying.

And it wasn’t until around twenty minutes later, did you finally accidentally bump into the person you were looking for. Even if at first you didn’t recognize him. “Sorry.”

“Y/N?”

You stop and look back to see your brother walking your way with something covering his head. “Y/N, is that you?”

“Yes,” you mutter as you curiously study his face, “is that really you?”

“Yes! Did you not recognize me because of my disguise?”

You scoff and shake your head, “no, your disguise sucks. It’s your hair, what happened to your hair?”

“Some old man cut it off.” He explains still leaving you confused. “Come on let’s talk later, right now I’m looking for a friend.”

“A friend?” You question whilst you begin to follow at his side and continue maneuvering through the crowd. “Where’s Loki?”

“He’s—” Thor cuts himself off as his attention seems to get stolen by someone. He quickly grabs your wrist and pulls you with him until you stop in front of a huge beast. Yet before either of you could fight it something flies on its neck and electrifies it. When it falls down there's a single woman standing there that your brother greets. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she greets bluntly.

“I was gonna do that.” Thor adds.

“Yeah well I did it first.” She quips.

Whilst they have their little conversation you look at the man behind you over your shoulder, he meets your gaze and tilts his head while his eyes search your face as if trying to piece you together and find a name to a face. When you look away you try to figure out who he was and if he was the friend Thor was looking for, or if it was the beautiful woman before you. But basing off the fact that Thor had protected this little man, you had to come to the conclusion that it was him.

Nonetheless you followed Thor and his new friends, but not without questioning him about them. “Thor, who are they? Are these the friends you were looking for?”

Thor points to the man behind you and adds, “yeah him. That’s a friend from earth.”

“One of the avengers?” You question excitedly. “Is that, Iron Man?”

“No, it’s Bruce Banner!”

You blink and look over your shoulder for a brief second, “oh.”

“Who is that?” Bruce asks, pointing at you.

“My sister!” Thor shouts over the crowd.

“The evil one?”

“No!” Thor scoffs, “my little sister. Y/N.”

You clutch onto your wound and groan softly, Thor doesn’t notice, and you don’t want him to just yet. Before he could even do so, or question anything else about you, you ask about the woman walking ahead. “Who is that?”

Thor leans towards you and talks in a loud whisper, “that’s a Valkyrie.”

“Really?!” You exclaim as you look over at her wide eyed. “That’s so cool! I never thought I’d seen one anymore.”

Ever since you were a child, you’ve heard great stories of the fearless warriors that were the Valkyrie, you’ve always admired them and always wished to become one. That was until you found out that they had all died. That was a bit disappointing.

“What are those things on her eyes?” You hear Bruce ask Thor. “Are those people that she's killed? She’s so beautiful and strong and courageous.”

“Who is this guy?” She finally turns and asks once you were in another dirty building. “I feel like I know you.”

“I feel like I know you too,” he points out while you all continue to follow her. Stopping a couple minutes in as she turns to face your brother.

“Look, I’ve spent years in a haze, trying to forget my past. Sakaar seemed like the best place to drink and forget, and to die one day.”

“I was thinking that you drink too much and that probably was gonna kill you.” Thor interjects after her.

“I don’t plan to stop drinking.

“Oh.”

“But I don’t wanna forget, I can’t turn away anymore, so if I’m gonna die, well, it may as well be my sword through that murderous hag.” She finishes confidently, making you smile proudly and in admiration.

“Good,” Thor nods.

“So, I’m saying that I wanna be on the team. Has it got a name?” The Valkyrie queries.

“Yeah, it’s called the Revengers.”

You pinch your eyebrows together and you tilt your head to question the name. “Revengers?”

The Valkyrie and you share a look to question the same thing before paying attention to Thor’s explanation.“Because I’m getting revenge,” Thor explains to the group, “you’re getting revenge,” he directs to the Valkyrie. “Do you want revenge?” He turns to Bruce.

“I’m undecided,” He stammers out, letting Thor finally turn to you.

“You want revenge too?”

You discreetly grab onto your wound and nod with a smile on your face. “Of course!”

“Also,” The Valkyrie adds, “I've got a peace offering.” She proceeds to walk to a room, opening a door and revealing that splendid surprise; your older brother Loki.

“Surprise.”

#avengers #marvel #Thor odinson #loki laufeyson #lightning #hela odinsdottir #Valkyrie #bruce banner #thor ragnorak #Thor odinson x odinsdottir!reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson x odinsdottir!reader #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #odinsdottir #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "What If...T'Challa Became a Star-Lord?" from Marvel Studios' What If...

Salutations, random people on the internet who already scrolled past this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

You know, a lot of people lost so much when Chadwick Boseman died. His family has lost a husband and a father, his fans lost an inspiration, and to fans of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, we lost both a hero and a king. His performance as T'Challa/Black Panther is by far the best the character has ever had, nailing the essence of the character while delivering so much more. So with the second episode of Marvel Studios' What If... one has to ask: Was Chadwick Boseman's final performance his best, or did the series failed to honor his legacy? Only spoilers can answer that question, so be wary as we analyze the second entry into Marvel's most ambitious series.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

T’Challa himself: I enjoy that because his story has changed, so did T'Challa's personality. There's this sly cockiness that we've never seen from the character before, showing how much influence Yondu and his Ravagers had on him. And it's actually pretty fun seeing a character who was so calm and collected now act so...not that. With that said, just T'Challa is now Star-Lord, that doesn't mean he's a copy of Peter Quill.

The major differences lie in the impact that T'Challa left on the galaxy. Instead of stealing for himself, he chose to steal for planets in need as his own version of Robin Hood. And that, in turn, is a way more intriguing and compelling character to me than Peter Quill ever could be. There's just something about the nobleness of choosing to be a heroic outlaw instead of being strictly an outlaw. It proves that despite having his history altered drastically, there is no erasing that perfect and intelligent King that we all know and dearly miss. It sucks that we'll probably never see him again, but at least the last time we did it was to leave one epic impression for the fans.

Korath is T’Challa’s #1 Fan: Not what I would have expected, primarily since the character never acted so goofy, but I appreciate this change nonetheless. Because it's oddly wholesome seeing how much Korath admires T'Challa, to the point where he honestly believes that they're best friends. Also, it's funny. Like, really funny. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that this version of Korath is the funniest character in this episode. He's just too good.

It’s All Funny: Hey, we're on the Guardians of the Galaxy side of the universe. I'd personally be offended if it didn't have a sense of humor.

Yondu: Yondu seems to be the only one who hasn't changed that much through T'Challa's presence. Sure, he went straight because of it, but personality-wise, he's still the same. He still gives off the energy as this king of the idiots when dealing with his Ravagers, and you how he's this thief with a heart of gold. It's just that only T'Challa brought it out more than Peter did. Other than that, I personally don't mind that not much has changed. Yondu was already a fun character, to begin with, so I'm more than alright seeing him unaltered if it means we get to witness more of him.

The Galaxy is Better Because of T’Challa’s Influence: No, really, it is. Drax still has his family, Thanos renounced his genocidal ways, and Nebula not only remained in one piece but even has hair...somehow. It's impressive to see just how better everything turned out, and, in a way, it's also kind of funny when you think about it. Like, I wouldn't go so far as to say that the universe was in shambles because of Peter's existence...but it wasn't really better either, and I can't help my chuckles when witnessing how better off things were because he stayed on Earth.

Thanos: Not much to say here. It's fun seeing how chilled out Thanos is when he's not hellbent on wiping out half the universe. And I definitely chuckled a couple times when people called him out on his genocidal bulls**t. It's pretty enjoyable and made me glad we got to see his very surprising return.

Nebula: But this shocked me more. Korath becoming a T'Challa stan? Sure. Thanos acting as a respectful ally? Whatever. But Nebula becoming T'Challa's sexy thieve-in-arms girlfriend?! I don't think anybody in their right mind would have predicted that!

But putting aside the shock, this version of Nebula was surprisingly entertaining. It's nice seeing what she would've acted like without the tragedy as she acts like she's free as a bird but still a little devious. Although, despite having a much better life, that doesn't mean there isn't animosity between her and Thanos. He may not have torn Nebula apart as much as he did in the universe we know, but take notice of how she still has cybernetics in her left eye. That shows that T'Challa didn't get to fix everything, and I appreciate that the writers hadn't glossed over how much of a bad father the Mad Titan is, just because he's all sunshine and rainbows now. It allows a chance for Thanos to prove he really did change and gives Nebula an arc to forgive him. And while the pacing for that could have been better, it's still somewhat believable for me to get behind it. Thus surprising me even more with how not only did Nebula make a phenomenal appearance, but one that left quite the impact on the story.

The Collector: It's not just better heroes that T'Challa created. The Collector, for example, somehow became a genuine threat in this timeline instead of that pathetic dweeb in Guardians of the Galaxy and Avengers: Infinity War. This again amazes me with how T'Challa miraculously created a buff-supervillain in his universe, where Peter did jack all. Maybe the galaxy really would have been better off without him...

Howard the Duck: This is the best way to utilize Howard the Duck if you ask me. He's a character that doesn't really scream "leading character" to me (unless given the correct type of writers), so it's better to let him stick to brief cameos and occasional supporting roles. It allows a goofy type of character to shine without causing audiences to roll their eyes over the idea of a talking duck saving the day.

Wakanda Theme Playing when T’Challa Found the Ship: It's just a cool callback. That's all.

Yondu Lying About Wakanda’s Destruction: A pretty solid reveal that shows how even though Yondu loves the kids he steals, he doesn't have the best intentions. What more can I add?

The Collector’s Wall of Weapons: The callbacks are nice, but I like implications from seeing Captain America's shield and Thor's hammer on that wall. It could mean that while the universe is a better place from T'Challa's influence, not everybody made it out alright.

Yondu’s Speech to T’Challa: I'm sure these beautiful and sentimental words have some implications toward Chadwick Boseman as an actor, but I was too busy being emotional to notice them. Well done.

What Happened to Peter Quill: Ok...I think we can just stop beating Peter down for dooming half the universe. Because how much lower can you get when finding out that this other guy practically saved everything with very little effort, only for you to end up as a worker at Dairy Queen? I'd honestly feel bad if I kept doing it at this point. The poor bastard…

(Sidenote: Love the implications that the world is still in danger because Ego still gets to Peter. It shows that despite the more interesting changes, not everything turns out all hunky-dory.)

The Tribute to Chadwick Boseman: A well-appreciated sentiment to cap off a perfect episode...or what would've been a perfect episode. 'Cause ya boy's got some nitpicks!

WHAT I DISLIKED

T’Challa Being Called Star-Lord: A small thing, but the reason why Peter called himself Star-Lord was because it was a nickname his mom called him. What's even the reasoning here? Because it makes no sense when you sit down and think.

The Black Order are still Boring: Out of all the improvements we've seen, it is still disappointing that these four remain as nothing more than cannon fodder for our heroes to go through before fighting the main boss. And pathetic. Immensely pathetic. I mean, for f**ks sake, THE MAW GOT KILLED BY THE PINK GIRL FROM GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY! Psychic powers and he still goes out like a b**ch!

Thanos Got Nerfed: The guy nearly killed the Avengers, with and without Infinity Stones, yet he can barely hold his own against these people who worked for him. C'MON NOW!

IN CONCLUSION

But those were just nitpicks. Despite them, I'd still consider this episode a solid A with 9.5/10. It was fun getting to see the changes T'Challa made to the galaxy, added with some pretty entertaining moments with other iconic characters. You couldn't have asked for a better final performance from Chadwick Boseman, and here's hoping that wherever he is, he knows that he shined brighter than any star in the galaxy.

#marvel studios' what if...? #marvel cinematic universe #mcu reviews #t'challa #t'challa star lord #yondu udonta #nebula #thanos #korath #what i thought about #what if reviews

[crossroadsdimension]

hums in thought

You know, when you think about it, the the final boss(es) of Tales of Arise wasn’t actually all that unexpected. Spoilers below if you haven’t gotten to the endgame dungeon/don’t want to be spoiled.

Okay, so I’ve seen some people complaining about how the endgame was weird and unexpected, but to be honest, the story did a good job of foreshadowing the Great Astral Spirit Rena as one of the end-game bosses. If you recall, they showed that it was possible for astral energy to form into a sentient monster as far back as the fight with Balseph, when the fire-based spirit vessel broke and released the beastie. I’m still not quite sure on how it broke, but I bet it had something to do with how much energy the spirit vessel was getting. I’d have to play through the story again to really know for sure.

So, they had the Fire Avatar’s presence kinda waiting at the back of everyone’s minds as we went through the story. I was half-expecting the other spirit vessels to break in the same manner, though. It really could’ve helped to hammer home the idea that “hey, we’re dealing with a monster made of astral energy here, be ready,” but then again, there is such a thing as too much foreshadowing. Sometimes it’s better to not hammer your players/readers/viewers over the head with something, because then there’s a high chance they’ll lose interest in the game.

And then, when we reached Elde Menancia and saw the hollowing effect, that was meant to bring Rena and the Crown Contest into question. Why were we siphoning energy off Dahna using the master cores for this stupid contest? Was it because the Renans had killed their planet by hollowing it out themselves? It had more to do with the Astral Spirit’s attempts at staying sentient and sucking its own planet dry, but we didn’t learn that until much, much later. They spread out that realization well, in my opinion, and I’m eager to play through New Game Plus in order to see if I can catch more glimpses of those hints.

Speaking of -- I’ve noticed that some people wanted to see more of Vholran. While I agree, he is an interesting character I would’ve liked to know over time, the question of how to do that without making him lose that fear factor is very difficult, and I think Tales of Arise pulled off his encounters well.

If Tales of Arise did what Square Enix did with, say, Sephiroth in Final Fantasy VII Remake, I’m pretty sure Vholran would’ve lost some of that unease and pure terror I got whenever I saw him. Square Enix was able to pull it off because we knew Sephiroth already. Keeping him secret the way they did in the original game might not have hit the same way as it once did.

We did not know Vholran before he first showed up in Tales of Arise.

I could ramble on about this more, but honestly, I think Vholran and Alphen deserve to have their own post, and this was mostly me pointing out that the Great Astral Spirit wasn’t actually that much of a surprise.

#cross' rambling #tales of arise #tales of arise spoilers #tales of arise analysis

[lizzy-williams]

𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟿: 𝚃𝚘𝚢𝚜

🎃⌒👹⌒🎃⌒👹⌒🎃⌒👹⌒🎃

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝 (𝟷𝟾+), 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎

.

𝑨𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕'𝒔 𝑳𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒆 - 𝑯𝒐𝒛𝒊𝒆𝒓

kinktober masterlist

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓

𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 

𝑨𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕'𝒔 𝑳𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒆 - 𝑯𝒐𝒛𝒊𝒆𝒓

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You never thought you would be the kind to own a vibrator. Why would you? You literally had one of the most sex driven men on the planet as your boyfriend, not to mention that man had wizard hands.

But when he was away, you needed more than just your fingers to get off. And when you confided in one of your friends, guess what they fucking surprised you with the next day?

A long, vibrating, pink dildo. 

You weren’t opposed to the idea of owning it. But you just never thought it would come to this. You were almost not going to use it. Maybe give it to one of your single friends. 

That was, until you used it.

When it first touched you, you jolted back. You had never really felt anything like it. But once you experimented, you found out it brought you to some of the most explosive, euphoric orgasms you had ever had.

So when Colson was away, you used it so much more than you thought you would. You were addicted to the way you felt. Even when you were cumming for the 5th time, it felt as good as the first. 

Just like tonight. 

You were writhing pathetically under the toy’s touch, already cumming two other times that night. But all the while, you were pretending that it wasn’t a machine making you feel this way, but rather Colson, is head between your thighs, licking and sucking you was if you were his last meal.

You wanted him so bad, but the vibrator would have to do.

Colson, on the other hand, was enjoying in the view from the doorway, your back arched just the way he liked it and the most delicious noises falling from your mouth. 

You see, he planned to come home early to surprise you, as cliché as it sounds, and yet, you didn’t think about that. 

So now, his eyes were glued to you. He wanted to be mad. Partly because you never told him you owned something so sinful, but mostly because if you were to touch yourself, he wanted to watch, whether it was recording yourself or something over call or Facetime.

He couldn’t help but wonder... how many other times did you touch yourself without him knowing?

He couldn’t help it. He was posessive like that. You were his. That was his pussy. 

He watched as you drove yourself to the edge, and waited until you came to make his presence known. 

When you heard his throat clear, you snapped open your eyes, gasping when you saw him.

“Colson!” you panicked, pulling the covers over your nude body.

He tsked, “Come on, princess, you know not to cover up around me...,” he walked up to the end of the bed, slowly pulling the covers away from your body, savoring your body was being uncovered inch by inch. 

“I didn’t know you would be back so early,” you tried your hardest to diffuse the sexual tension. 

“Surprise,” he smirked, but his expression froze when he saw the soaked sheets, “How many times did you cum?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Liar. Tell the truth.”

You hesitated, “Three...,” 

In all honestly, it wasn’t that many times, but to Colson, it was a big deal. His jaw visibly clenched, and you could see how much he wanted to grab you and shove you over his knee.

“Hands to the headboard,” he commanded, immediately taking off his belt.

You blinked, “W-What?” 

“Don’t make me repeat himself,” he hissed.

You didn’t make him ask twice.  

He tied you up tightly, “Do you know how fucking beautiful you looked?”

You whimpered, looking down and seeing him painfully hard, his lips dragging across his bottom lip.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, pretty girl,” Cols said in a low tone, starring right into your eyes, “Because you came three times without me, we’re going to double that. That’s a total of 6 times. But it won’t be on my cock. Because you seem to like your little toy so much,” he clenched his jaw, “why don’t we but it to good use..,”

You swallowed hard, “Colson, I can’t, I”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll add more. This is punishment. You aren’t supposed to like it...,”

You simply nodded your head in obedience, not daring to go against his wishes. You were skating on thin enough ice already. 

“Now you are going to take what I give you, and you’re going to say thank you.”

“Thank you...,” you muttered, your thighs squirming at the thought of him touching you... just a little bit.

“Good girl. Now relax. If you take your punishment well, I might give you a little gift,” he leaned over and gave you a soft kiss on your lips, and you desperately leaned in, starving for contact, but as soon as the kiss got too hot for his liking, he pulled away, “You ready.”

“Yes,” you whined, wanting this to be over with. You were going to be so sensitive.

“Spread your legs, baby,” he commanded, and you were quick to comply, opening your thighs, exposing your most sensitive places.

He then swiped his fingers across your slit, gathering your precum and sticking his digits into his mouth, making you whine out.

“Shush.”

He than took the vibrator and turned it on to a medium setting, watching your reaction as you squirmed. He slid it inside your swiftly, making you whimper, the sensitivity from the previous orgasm still present.

He then sat in a chair that was in his room, slowly pulling down his pants and boxers in one movement, smirking as he watched you watch him, his hand starting to tease his shaft. 

1...

You were comfortable, but you knew this was only the beginning. 

2...

3...

You were getting more sensitive now, and you were only half way done. At this point, Colson’s hands were moving quicker, louder grunts coming from his mouth as he stroked.

4...

The pressure on your clit was getting more and more sensitive with every passing moment, and you could tell that your boyfriend was getting close, his breath becoming labored and hitching every once and a while.

5...

You were almost done. But you felt as if you couldn’t take it. It was so intense and the sensations were incredible, almost too incredible. Colson was moving his hand as fast as possible. Soon enough, he came with loud groans of your name, the word spilling from your mouth like a prayer, even though his actions were the farthest thing from holy.

6...

With your final orgasm, you were as sensitive as ever, your legs shaking and your body covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your pussy was glistening, your lips swollen and your cheeks a new fluorescent shade of pink. 

“Aww, is my good girl done with her punishment?” he teased, getting up from his spot, his eyes locked on yours as he stalked over to you, his shadow hovering over you like a rain cloud.

“Please, I can’t...,” you whined, “I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“Please just kiss me! Touch me, please, I want to feel you touch me!” your words came out almost incoherently, Colson smirking at how pathetically weak you were. He had you just where he wanted you.

He leaned down, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead before stripping completely, watching you the entire time, looking at how wrecked your body was. Soon he was on the bed with you, and he had yet to untie you from the bedpost.

“Such a good princess...” he said, lowering his body, and soon enough his mouth was hovering right above your throbbing clit, “Think you can handle one more for me?”

((YOU ALREADY KNOW MY GUY))

#mgk #mgk fanfiction #mgk imagine #mgk x reader smut #mgk smut #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly x reader smut #tickets to my downfall #smut #kinktober #kinktober 2020

[obiwanobi]

In the Sith Senator au, I imagine that sheev introduces them either at a dinner party or maybe at a gala? anakin is in his robes as always and obiwan is super dressed up because he's a respectable senator thank you very much and he calls anakin darling and sweet thing and stuff like that and within an hour he has anakin wrapped around his finger

Okay, so WHY NOT BOTH? The last long post about this AU was painful, so have some “hate at first sight” and “0.2 sec for Obi-Wan to fix it and learn that banter and endearments can turn Anakin into a very charming mess” 

The first time they met, Obi-Wan has just been elected Senator after working in politics on Stewjon for years, making enough important friends and empty promises to be re-elected even without showing his face on Stewjon until the next decade. It’s his first month back on Coruscant, close to Sidious after years on his own. He needs to show him that his presence here, so close to his Master, is right, and can only benefit their plans. Even when everything isn’t… great.

The committee of small planets of the mid rim is pestering him to join their sad little club of useless dustballs, he has dozens of demands of various needy mayors, dignitaries and even ministers from Stewjon to reply to, the Senate security staff are a bunch of lazy bastards who still haven’t given him his pass and badge to enter and exit the building whenever he wants to and keep pretending not to recognize him even though they force him to go through a full security check every morning, and he can’t find a decent assistant to hire. 

You could say that Senator Kenobi is a bit on edge. 

He really, really doesn’t need to be late to his first real, private meeting with Sidious, especially because his only excuse is ‘I forgot how busy traffic was on Coruscant in the morning, don’t blame me I’m used to the countryside and seeing more sheep than ships on my way to work”. That would probably not go too well.  

Looking at his chrono every twenty seconds, he doesn’t pay enough attention to where he’s going and doesn’t notice the man turning at a corner on his side, running fast enough to come crashing against him without having the chance to do anything about it.

One second, a sharp cry, a flurry of dark robes and a cup of tea flying, and they’re both on the ground.  

Obi-Wan isn’t pleased. You could say he’s even a bit exasperated, lying on his back, a stranger’s elbow digging in his stomach. And then he turns his head to see who’s stupid enough to run in the Senate’s corridors on a Monday morning and almost curses out loud when he recognises Jedi robes and a stupid Padawan’s braid. 

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s used to suppressing his Force-presence so no one can feel him and he’s not going to make a scene to attract more attention. He’s going to inhale and exhale slowly, accept the deepest of apologies from the stupid Jedi with a benevolent smile, repress his need to do something harsh, and be on his way.  

But then the Padawan groans, rubs his head and asks reproachfully why Obi-Wan didn’t watch where he was going. 

It’s eight am, half of his (expensive and only sold on Stewjon) tea on the floor, and Obi-Wan already wants to strangle a Jedi.

So, there is a shouting match.

Words like “pathetic life form” and “karking useless politician” are thrown, and it takes almost half a minute for Obi-Wan to realise that he’s arguing with a dumb teenager and that they’re still on the floor, half on top of each other. He, very politely, asks the Padawan to get the kriff up, doesn’t take the time to even look at the remains of his cup of tea after salvaging his wet datapad from the puddle on the ground, and leaves with one last silent death glare. 

“You’re not even going to clean that?” the Padawan yells in his back, sounding revolted. 

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. What are droids for these days? 

*

“You’re late,” Palpatine says flatly the instant the door of his office closes behind Obi-Wan. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

“Yes, Master.”  

“Call me Chancellor for now. I want you to meet someone and he should be here soon. He could become important, maybe even crucial for our plans.”

“Oh? Another Senator or representative to charm?” 

“Even better,” Palpatine smiles. And that’s what gets Obi-Wan interested. He knows this is the reason he’s here and the reason Sidious wants him in the Senate. Obi-Wan is a smooth talker, a nice face and a warm smile all in one. Someone who, with enough time and efforts, could make anyone believes in anything.

Palpatine always said that he was made for politics. 

“He could be a decisive piece in this game. It will take a lot of careful manipulation and dedication to bring him to our side and I don’t have this kind of time to waste, so you’ll do. With enough care and patience, I think he could be the most loyal and useful… support, we could have.” 

“Who is he? What do you want me to say and how far am I allowed to go?”

A knock at the door interrupts them. “For now,” Palpatine says in a low voice, sitting behind his desk, joining his hands together above it, the picture of old and trusted wisdom, “I just need you to make him like you.” 

That’s not going to be a problem, Obi-Wan thinks, as the doors open. He straightens up, gets ready to put on his most radiant smile and displays an inviting openness and friendliness that few can resist. 

The Padawan enters. 

This is going to be a problem. 

*

“Ah! My favourite Jedi!” Sidious exclaims loud enough to be heard over the music and raising his cocktail above their heads. Anakin Skywalker smiles as he sees him, and dutifully comes closer. The Chancellor makes a point of clapping his hand twice on his shoulder once Skywalker is in front of him, and leaves it there as he introduces him to his new chief of staff. If anyone is wondering what a Padawan is doing at a Senate party that should only include political staffers and a few dignitaries, no one breaths a word of it. 

It gives Obi-Wan time to gauge, assess and appraise Skywalker, his reactions, body language, and anything he can learn from a simple conversation between Sidious and him. It would be his turn to do it soon. Relieve me from the burden of having to stroke the boy’s ego regularly so I can take care of more pressing issues, his master had snarled disdainfully. Right now, he’s playing the part of the dotting and proud fatherly figure to perfection, Obi-Wan has to give him that. 

Attention, approval and respect, Sidious had told me. That’s all you need to be in Skywalker’s good graces. The boy will soak every bit of kindness you can spare, as long as he considers you someone worth his own devotion.

It didn’t stop Obi-Wan from learning absolutely everything he could about him, from his lightsaber technique to his favourite food because Obi-Wan is and will always be a very thorough man who doesn’t rely on luck or unprecise sciences like basic psychology. Especially from his Master, who probably never encountered an emotion or feeling he couldn’t twist to fuel his ambition. 

Admittedly, Obi-Wan doesn’t share his Master enthusiasm for charming the brat and make him fall. He’s all for turning him against the Jedi, sure, that he can get behind and happily endorse, but having to deal with a moody teenager on a regular basis for the foreseeable future? It would be painful for everyone. Especially for Obi-Wan’s nerves.

 Anakin Skywalker, reckless, volatile and troublesome former slave and actual Padawan, wasn’t the type of Sith candidate Obi-Wan would have chosen. Not at all. Too many variables, too many chances to go wrong, a wild card that he would never risk. 

But Sidious is adamant. Doesn’t care for any of his arguments. He wants Skywalker, and Obi-Wan has started to realise why when he learnt all about the prophecy. Stealing the Jedi Chosen One and turning him against them in a last-second betrayal was the kind of symbolic irony Sidious loved and would gloat about for years to come. And when Sidious decides that he needs something, there is no going back. 

But this time, Obi-Wan has to do all the hard work himself. He calculates that getting close to Skywalker, especially after their more than tense official introduction, is going to take months, maybe even (and Obi-Wan shudders at the thought) a year. Trapped at playing nice with an overgrown child who hates being told no and likes to think he’s above the rules. For no direct and personal benefit but the approval of his own Master.

Obi-Wan really, really hates it.

But that’s not going to stop him from completing his mission perfectly, as he has always done. 

“I’m glad to see you, Chancellor,” Skywalker says softly, his quiet tone already at odd with what Obi-Wan expected. He grew taller than the last he saw him, and Obi-Wan hates it. His braid is a bit longer and his robes are a shade darker than a few months ago. Something passes in his eyes when the Padawan notices Obi-Wan’s presence next to the Chancellor and his head snaps up defiantly. “Senator Kenobi,” he grits out like the words pain him. 

Obi-Wan needs to change this right now before Sidious deems him inapt for this mission.

He hates this a bit more. 

The opportunity is given quicker than he thought when Sidious excuses himself and leaves their little group to mingle with other demanding sycophants. Obi-Wan gets stuck with Skywalker, Sidious’ chief of state who’s apparently only here for the free drinks, and Keneg, the senator of… Corulag? Barl’leth? One of those rich Core planets that hate anyone who isn’t them but need to be kept around for their credits, who always seems to suck years of his life every time Obi-Wan is forced to speak to him. It takes thirty seconds for all of them to grow bored of Keneg incessant complaints about how the lower levels of his planet are “ruining its reputation” and that the problem resides in their too lenient immigration policy, especially concerning poor and uneducated races.

Skywalker’s face is a journey. At least twelve different emotions play through his eyes, the twists of his mouth and raised eyebrows like a theatre actor in a dramatic scene at each careless word coming out of the Senator’s mouth, and Obi-Wan wonders if anyone has ever told him that Jedi are supposed to be masters of their own emotions first and foremost. Especially around politicians. 

But it doesn’t matter right now, because that’s the opening he was waiting for. 

“Excuse me Senator Keneg,” He cuts him off politely before another endless tirade. “I’m afraid I have to go, I see the Senator of Botor and I’ve been trying to talk to him for months. Surely you understand. Padawan Skywalker, may I ask for your assistance? We could use some Jedi wisdom in our debate, if you don’t mind.” 

Skywalker looks torn between being relieved to be offered an out from an awful conversation, but also have no desire to spend more time with Obi-Wan. 

“Sure,” he ends up mumbling, apparently judging that he was the lesser of two evils. 

“Wonderful.” Obi-Wan doesn’t pay any attention to the betrayed look Sidious’ chief of state sends him after being left alone with Keneg.

“So,” Skywalker says, resigned, following Obi-Wan who’s making a beeline for the bar. “Where is he?”

“Who?” 

“The senator of Botor? And what’s your deal with him?” 

“I don’t even know what he looks like,” Obi-Wan replies, trying to ignore the casual tone Skywalker shouldn’t take with a Senator, even one he dislikes. 

“What? Then why did you ask me to come with you?”

“Aren’t you relieved that I saved you from dreadful hours of xenophobic discussions about how poor people should be banned from showing their face in public because it doesn’t please Senator Keneg?”

“You didn’t save me,” Skywalker grimaces, but still seats beside him. “Is it… Is it always like that? I mean, I know Core worlds politicians can be a little…”

Obi-Wan weighs his options, and decides that Skywalker would probably appreciate truth more than carefully chosen words and subtle hypocrisy. Pretending to be the last nice man in politics is out of the question with the way they met, so Obi-Wan opts for sincerity.

To a degree. 

“Snobbish? Disconnected from reality? Shameless bastards with no souls?” Obi-Wan says while signalling the bartender for Trandoshan ale and a cocktail.

“Well, yes.” 

“Welcome to politics.” 

Skywalker opens his mouth like he’s going to protest. He puts his hands in his sleeves, probably hoping to pass for a wise Jedi Master, but his pouty lips and frowned eyebrows make him look like a sulking youngling. “You’re part of it, you know. You can talk about it like you’re not one of them, but I remember you insulting me and leaving without caring about your tea and cup all over the floor.”

What a brat.

“My tea- My dear, do I have to remind you that you barreled into me at full stupid and made me spill my tea everywhere? Some Senators would have made a diplomatic incident out of it,” he huffs, a bit more irritable than he wanted to. 

 “You said I was a brainless child!” 

“Because you ar—” Their drinks arrive at that moment, and it gives Obi-Wan precious seconds to compose himself.

This isn’t how he’s supposed to play it. He didn’t expect Skywalker to be this whiny and petulant, despite Sidious’ warning, and was planning on letting him think he was the one in control of the situation. He’s supposed to be a Jedi for Force sake, not someone who can’t control their tongue and get into pointless fights with politicians! 

No, no. Grin and bear it. Obi-Wan should recall the last remnant of Jedi philosophy still in him. 

“Padawan Skywalker, I’m sorry if my words offended you,” Obi-Wan says with the voice he normally uses for debates where he wants to appear as the most sincere and reasonable party. He holds a glass of ale to Skywalker, as a peace offering. “I admit I wasn’t in the most pleasant of disposition at that time, and I may have been harsher than I realised. I hope you can forgive me.” 

This seems to mollify Skywalker a bit. He doesn’t look like he’s going to forget it, but does take the offered glass. “At least the Chancellor is different,” he sighs and Obi-Wan represses the urge to burst into laughter. 

Oh, Skywalker is truly the most naïve boy around. Perhaps twisting his mind will turn out to be fun. 

“Wait,” Obi-Wan exclaims suddenly as the Padawan holds the glass to his lips, “are you even old enough to drink?” 

“Oh come on, I’m 19! I can handle a beer and I’m a Jedi, don’t forget,” he brags, like being Force-sensitive changes anything about his (probably low) alcohol tolerance. To be fair, a regular politician wouldn’t know anything about what the Force could and couldn’t do. Skywalker’s probably relying on lack of awareness about the magic and mysterious abilities of the Jedi to get away with it. It’s almost endearing. 

 “I don’t know, Padawan, you did look like an adorable sulking youngling just a minute ago.”

“Ador- I’m not adorable!” He yelps as his cheeks turn into an interesting shade of pink. 

“But you don’t deny the youngling comment,” Obi-Wan teases good-naturedly between two sips of his cocktail. He can’t help it: It is way more intriguing to follow the colours on his face spreading to his neck than being on the receiving end of his frowns and accusing words.

Unduly flustered for such an innocent comment, Skywalker stutters a few syllables, huffs, and narrows his eyes at his glass, Obi-Wan’s playful smile, and his glass again. He downs the whole thing with his head thrown back before Obi-Wan can say anything, surprised by the sudden motion and too busy watching his throat moving until the empty glass is back on the table with a resounding clank. Still wiping his mouth, he calls the bartender and asks for another. Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the ‘don’t you dare stop me’ glare. 

This isn’t how he imagined befriending him, but Skywalker is still seating next to him and getting into a rant about how he’s a capable man, thank you very much, and yesterday his Master even said so, well, not in these words, but he’s not a youngling, and absolutely not adorable, he’s a warrior, a protector, but he doesn’t suppose a politician can understand, and if Obi-Wan wants to know, his sabre technique is exceptional, really, it is! 

His whole speech is supported by hands flying around to illustrate his words and mouthfuls of ale, because he is a man and not a kid, remember that, Senator Kenobi. It doesn’t prevent him from flushing a bit deeper and spluttering even more when Obi-Wan, listening attentively with a smile on his face, throws an indulgent of course you are, darling.

Skywalker turns his face away from him, desperate to hide his embarrassment, and orders another ale. 

Adorable. 

 Obi-Wan can work with that.   

*

Hours later, once Skywalker is happily sloshed and dangerously leaning toward crashing against his shoulder, Obi-Wan calls him a hover cab.  

“Thanks, Senator Kenobi!” Skywalker exclaims as he climbs into the cab, like Obi-Wan is now his favourite person to be around. His cheerful and warm demeanour has stopped being surprising after his second ale. “You’re not as awful as I thought!” 

Obi-Wan can’t help it, he laughs, truly laughs at that. It’s probably the most sincere compliment he’s gotten since he arrived at the Senate. “I’m glad you consider me a slightly better man than Senator Keneg,” he says, leaning forward toward Skywalker, hands on the cab. 

Skywaker grins and raises an eyebrow at him. “And more handsome too!” 

For once, it’s Obi-Wan who must look baffled. Despite his careful planning, all his diverse estimations and assessments about the different ways he could charm Skywalker, he didn’t consider actually seducing him. That’s… a whole new point of view. 

Interrupting his thoughts, Skywalker yawns and starts hugging his robe around himself, smiling contently like he’s in the best place in the galaxy, barely trying to blink away sleep from his eyes. Adorable.  

On an impulse, Obi-Wan leans closer to him and tugs on his braid. The reaction is worth it: Skywalker makes a small surprised noise, eyes suddenly wide, and the slight flush on his cheeks worsen in an instant.

Obi-Wan almost considers touching his face, just to see how warm his skin is. And maybe even brushing his parted lips with his thumb, just to see how warm it can still get. 

But Obi-Wan feels merciful.

For tonight. 

“Sleep well, Padawan,” he purrs, winding the thin braid around his finger one last time. Skywalker looks like he’s going to melt.  

Obi-Wan can work with that too. 

*

Two months later, Sidious tells him that he’s going to be the victim of an assassination attempt right before the Military Act vote. It would be acceptable for the Chancellor to be concerned about the protection and security of all Senators, of course, so he will push for Jedi protection and is certain to convince the Council to send one particular Padawan as a bodyguard. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t hate the idea. 

#these two asks were in my inbox for like... 2 months #I'm very slow but I don't forget! #sith senator kenobi au #anon #asks #obikin

[ninjakitty15]

Steering Clear (Loki Oneshot)

Loki couldn’t understand why he was pressured into this trivial, useless and utter waste of time lesson. It was all beneath him, these midgardian contraptions, when he could just as easily get the same results his own magical, mischievous way without needing to lift a finger or get a license for it. Really the only reason why he eventually agreed to the very idea of it was because he wasn’t the only one that was reluctant to go along, the one giving the lesson definitely didn’t sign up for this either and was even less pleased by this whole situation than Loki was. Loki of course found that more than amusing and therefore worth the small amount of time he would actually waste doing this. There was an ongoing joke among his assigned teacher’s friends that said teacher already had a resting murder face but seeing that there was even a darker than murderous look on his face in agreeing to this lesson put a smile on Loki’s instantly. 

“What’s got your feathers ruffled now, Barton?” Loki asked none too innocently.

Clint jerked his head sharply in Loki’s direction then with an expression that promised a lifetime of slow, painful deaths. “Shut up and get in the fucking car. You’re lucky we’re stationed in America or this would suck so much harder for both of us.”

Loki arched an eyebrow at the second part as he had come to understand America wasn’t as a great a country as it probably could be, it wasn’t even the second greatest country on this planet, probably not the third either. Nonetheless he graciously did as he was told and slid into the car smoothly, opposite side as Clint. “How do I adjust my seat exactly?” he begrudgingly asked.

“There should be a lever next to your seat to adjust the back, another one to move it forward or backward for leg room.”

Loki reached below his left side seeing as there was absolutely no way to reach down the right and found both levers, fixing his spot accordingly till he was completely comfortable. He glanced at all things needed to control the contraption, how much different could this be than the ships in Asgard? Besides the fact these ones weren’t made to be airborne, a shame that was as he actually enjoyed flying when it wasn’t by his oaf of a brother’s doing. He glanced over at Clint expectantly then and held out a hand. “I believe you have something I need.”

“What’s the magic word?” sneered Clint right back.

“You really don’t want me to say any magic words in your presence as a great many of them wouldn’t give you any peace of mind, something I’m sure you’ve already experienced,” growled Loki right back.

Clint considered chucking the keys he was harboring out the window but as this wasn’t even his car and he was the assigned supervisor for it, he would be the one in trouble for losing them in the end. He also considered a few scenarios where he would get out of the car right before a freak accident occurred with Loki still inside but he reminded himself as the car was still his responsibility in the end and Loki was after all superhuman, he would still be the only one hurting from it. Not worth the pain on his end. What would Natasha do? Probably blind him in one eye that would hinder his ability to drive without depth perception and make it look entirely like he did it on purpose.

“What exactly do you need from me? Ask me nicely,” Clint retorted before realizing how sexual that sounded and inwardly cringed, it sounded a lot better in his head.

“If you would give me the keys to this death trap, Barton, that would be ever so kind of you,” Loki in turn purred, not at all bothered.

Clint reluctantly handed it over, already done with the verbal sparring and just wanting this whole thing to be over already. He suddenly had a desperate need to take a long shower and scrub himself raw. 

Loki took no time at all figuring out which key actually worked for the car and turned it till the engine came to life for him.

“Check your mirrors first,” grumbled Clint, earning him an eyeroll from his student driver. “How can someone so much older act so childish?”

“You’d be better asking that question to my older brother who has yet to reach maturity himself despite being the crown prince.”

“I would but I’m stuck here with you instead. Gently press your right foot on the brake pedal on the left then firmly pull the stick shift from P to D.” Clint decided to blame Tony for his mind instantly thinking that too sounded dirty, he couldn’t have been any more uncomfortable doing this if he was wearing a thong and Natasha’s super suit.

Loki did as he was told and was tempted to read Clint’s mind seeing how even giving the god instructions seemed to grind his gears the wrong way but decided against it as he too wanted this over with. 

“Take your foot off the brake pedal and gently press it on the accelerator pedal on the right, slowly please. Keep both hands on the wheel as often as possible on either side of the top center or ten and two if this was a clock.”

Loki threw a glance around him before he got bored of simply following instructions to the T and pretended to slowly drive forward before applying more pressure on the pedal and bolting forward, peeling out into the driving course parking lot and weaving his way through the orange traffic cones, tires screeching the entire way with every sharp unorthodox turn. He stole a glance at Clint whilst driving like a Fire Giant out of Muspelheim who was sheet white and pressed back against the passenger seat, knuckles just as white while one hand gripped the seat and the other hand grasped the latch over the window. He then stopped short in front of a stop sign temporarily stationed ahead before lurching forward and quickly figuring out how much to turn the wheel and brake at just the right time and pressure to miraculously park between two other SUV’s to check off parallel parking on the list of driving achievements. He put the car back in park and turned off the car before turning to Clint fully for his reaction.

“How’d I do?” Loki asked once again not too innocently or as innocently as the god of mischief could sound.

“What the actual fuck was that? No, don’t answer that! I’m gonna need a moment to hold down my lunch and a clean pair of pants after that stunt.” He looked over the list he was given to decide if Loki passed the test or not and was dismayed to find there was no spot for comments or complaints. He was even more dismayed to find that Loki despite his antics and speeding had somehow managed to check everything off the list, well almost everything, he didn’t use his signal lights though to be fair, that seemed to be a dying art among drivers depending on where you were driving. “How the hell did you pass, this is some bullshit.”

“What is it you Midgardians would say? Ye of little faith?”

Clint snorted at Loki’s smug commentary. “This is why I’m atheist.” He snatched the keys from Loki once more and the two got out of the car, Clint glaring at Loki the entire time. “If there really were such things as gods then one of them would show some mercy and put me out of my misery by now.”

“Why Barton, all you had to do was ask and I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Loki cooed.

Before Clint could lunge at the cocky god like he so desperately wanted to do since shooting him wouldn’t do anything, Fury interrupted their verbal battle himself and directed his unforgiving gaze at Clint in warning. “How’d he do?”

“He fucking passed! I’m done with this fuckery! I’m going home and having a shower and a drink, maybe at the same time and I’m never doing any more favors for you ever! Peace!” He tossed the paper in the air dramatically and stormed off without another word or a glance back.

Fury caught the paper before Loki could and read down the list curiously before glancing up at Loki who was smirking proudly back at him. He then took out a cigarette and a lighter and promptly set the paper on fire. “You didn’t think I’d notice the format had been changed and the list shortened, did you?”

Loki scoffed. “Consider me surprised you notice anything with only one working eye.”

“Consider yourself a pedestrian until I decide otherwise and if there is an otherwise it will be either myself or Romanoff as your tester and you can bet we won’t take any of your bullshit tricks. Until then, you better start walking now if you want to get back to the compound by the evening.” Fury then unlocked the car behind the one Loki had parked and smoothly backed out and sped off.

Loki watched Fury drive off and rolled his eyes before disappearing in a flash of green then reappearing right where he last stood and looked around. He sighed, shook his head, and repeated disappearing and reappearing two more times. “What sorcery is this?”

“Mine actually,” another familiar voice spoke up before a sparkling gold ring appeared behind him and out stepped another sorcerer in a red cape and blue robes. “When you can drive, you can teleport again, no shortcuts or cheating.”

“I thought you didn’t want to deal with the Avengers.”

“Oh I don’t, but putting you in your place again made their lesser annoyance worth it. Start walking, no taxi, lyft or Uber will pick you up either, I made sure of it.” He stepped back through his gold ring before Loki hurled a dagger he had summoned at him and disappeared from the parking lot, leaving Loki alone and stranded.

Loki tried once more to teleport only to remain back where he stood before again and cursed in his native tongue before eying the remaining car left. He couldn’t teleport clearly but if he could summon daggers, his magic wasn’t completely cut off. He snapped his fingers and the car unlocked for him, the mortals were fools for teaching him how to drive. He slid into the car and started it up with magic, smirking in satisfaction as it came to life at his command. Rob Zombie’s Red, Red Kroovy came blasting on the stereo and his smirk widened. The sky might be Thor’s but the roads were now his. He glanced up at the rear view mirror before peeling out of the parking lot, the black SUV shimmering into a forest green sports car as it sped off into the city. As if he needed anything but himself to get what he wanted or where he wanted. 

#Loki oneshot #loki driving lessons #avengers #clint barton #hawkeye #Fury #Dr Strange #Loki #for @kaogasm #challenge accepted

[jemej3m]

Yo. Yo. Yoo. A Highschool musical au. Yeah you heard me.

bruh cross clique relationships are my jam

pt. 1? maybe

*

When they’d first met, Neil had been hiding from everyone else on the roof of the ski lodge. Wymack had brought him on holiday and encouraged him to join in with the teen party going on in the karaoke lounge with Dan and Kevin, but he’d taken one look and noped the hell out. 

Curled into a ball, he had never expected his angsty teenage silence to be broken by another short, bad-mannered boy, equally as distasteful of loud gatherings and soda-stupid teenage shenanigans. 

There had been something very familiar about him, like Neil had seen him before.

He also had a pack of cigarettes. 

Neil had yearned for one, like he yearned for his mom, and Andrew had asked for his name in exchange for the lighter. They’d sat in silence, letting the dulled sounds of music and cheers wash over them like a particularly persistent draft.

When Neil flinched away at the first pop of the fireworks, Andrew had frowned. And when Neil had explained they sounded too much like gunshots, Andrew gave him his number, scoffing at Neil’s old flip phone. 

Then he’d proceeded to bitch about his cousin, the one who had dragged him and his twin brother on a ‘bonding’ trip, and was then forcing him to move across the country so they could all live together. it distracted Neil from the gunfire overhead: whether or not that had been Andrew’s intention, Neil thought he’d never know. 

He assumed he’d never see Andrew again. 

But then school started up again.

Guess who was the new kid?

*

Andrew didn’t think that high school movies were actually grounded in reality till he moved to Palmetto State high. But the minute that he walked in through Palmetto State High’s front doors, he was instantly proven wrong. 

Aaron, who had already done his freshman year and half his sophomore year here, seemed unfazed. He was a generally unfazed person, expect when Andrew purposefully ignored him and then smashed his ass at Mariokart. Then he’d lose his temper but ultimately be angrier at himself, because he didn’t want to be anything like his mom had been. 

Andrew never had the chance to meet Tilda. She’d died just before they met: her will was the only reason that Aaron had found out about Andrew in the first place.

Aaron shoved his glasses up his nose and neatly ducked past a set of boisterous jocks who were bouncing a basketball to one another. 

“I already hate it here,” Andrew muttered, following after his brother. 

“It gets worse,” Aaron sighed. “Wait till you see the Exy jocks. The cheerleaders are - ” his face screwed up for a second. “Not all bad.” 

“What are you?” 

“We,” Aaron insisted. “Are nerds. Did you think you’d be able to escape the fact that we’re identical?” 

“I’m not a nerd,” Andrew muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the bracelet he wore. Bee had given it to him as a parting gift: it was the solar system, to scale, with the space between the planets made out of carbon fibre. 

“Are you kidding? The only thing you moved in with was a box of books.” 

“Whatever.” 

They brushed by the office, Aaron ignoring the freshman’s offer to take Andrew on a tour of the school. Her name-tag read Robin and she was clearly unfazed by their complete disregard of her presence. 

“History first,” Aaron huffed, squinting at Andrew’s timetable. “Good, we’re together. History sucks: we have Mr Moriyama, and his shitty nephew Riko is in that class too.”

“What’s so shitty about him?” 

“You’ll see.” 

Fantastic, Andrew thought. The day was shaping up to be an absolute nightmare. 

“Mr Minyard,” drawled a nasally man who lingered by the door. When he saw Andrew, his eye twitched. “And Mr Minyard. So the attendance sheet wasn’t an error.”

Aaron just muttered something under his breath and dragged Andrew by the sleeve. The tables were set up in spaced-apart rows, but the back was already claimed by a group of delinquent-looking attention vacuums. The others were all crowded around one boy, who had his feet kicked up on the table in front of him and an uncanny resemblance to the history teacher. 

He looked between Andrew and Aaron and sneered. Before he could open his mouth to say something, his uncle clapped his hands and called the class to attention. 

Just as Mr Moriyama was about to start the lesson, what could only be described as the human embodiment of disaster. 

When Andrew recognised him, his cheeks went red. 

“Mr Josten,” Mr Moriyama said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How is it that you are always late to my class, when your brother’s already here?” 

The brother in question looked nothing like Neil. He was taller, paler, with black hair and green eyes. He was also glaring at Neil, like that was going to make a difference. 

“My bad,” the red-head shrugged. 

“Detention,” Mr Moriyama said. 

“I have practise,” Neil retorted. And - oh, god, he was a jock. A smart-mouthed sporty boy. Fuck. Andrew thought he’d never see the boy from the rooftop again, but here they were, sitting in the same history class. 

“Should have thought about that before you were late,” the greasy man sneered, sending Neil on his way. Neil slumped his way past the desks till he saw Andrew sitting behind his brother, eyes widened with shock. 

Andrew, involuntarily, found himself giving Neil a small salute. Neil’s lips quirked up as he slid into his chair, letting the first lesson of the day finally begin. 

*

Neil jogged into practise late. This wasn’t surprising to anyone, least of all Wymack, who was leaning against the plexiglass with a knowing frown. 

“Could you stop antagonising Mr Moriyama’s own nephew in his class?” 

“In my defence,” Neil admitted. “Today’s detention was because I was late, not because I accidentally spoke my thought about Riko out loud instead of reciting them in my head.”

“Get on the court, you little shit,” he said, though not without fondness. Neil had been adopted by the Exy coach at the end of his freshman year, when he’d figured out why Neil was breaking into the changerooms to sleep. 

He jogged up to Kevin, who was less than impressed as he stood by the goal. 

“What the hell, Neil?” 

“The only reason I was so late was because Gordon still hasn’t forgiven you for getting him kicked off the team and he likes to hang around my locker to take it out on me!” 

Dan, Wymack’s other adopted child and team captain, was standing nearby and laughing. “Don’t try and flip this on Kevin: you just like picking fights with Seth.” 

Neil grinned at her. “It’s so easy.” 

“Oi!” Wymack called out. “We running drills or not?”

When he saw the blonde head of hair bobbing up and down, Neil’s grin faltered slightly. He was still in shock that Aaron had a twin, that the twin had moved here, and that twin had been the exact person Neil had met on the roof of the ski resort a few weeks ago. 

No wonder he’d found Andrew’s face so familiar. He was truly an idiot for not picking up on it.

Andrew sat down, high in the bleachers. Neil felt a strange prickle at the back of his neck, like he had when they’d talked for hours up on the roof. 

Practise went too fast after that. Neil stayed behind to help his coach pack up, Kevin and Dan bickering about plays as they went off to the showers. 

Coach went off with the equipment, giving Andrew a cursory glance. Perhaps he recognised Aaron’s face: the boy had nearly done tryouts for the team at the start of freshman year but chickened out. 

Neil skipped the steps, leaping up three at a time. Andrew was lounging on the bleachers, head cocked to the side. 

“So,” Neil said. “You never mentioned that you were moving to Palmetto.”

“We were in a random Colorado ski lodge,” Andrew rolled his eyes. “What were the chances?” 

“Clearly high enough.” Neil perched on the seat beside him. “So, Aaron’s brother, huh?” 

“Obviously.” 

Neil grinned. “Give me some slack: it was dark. I suppose you’ll be following him around, at first?” 

Andrew just shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do.” 

“Do you like Exy?” 

His eye twitched. “I’ve played before. Why?” 

Neil felt his grin widen. “You should try out.” 

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. “Aaron says I’m doomed to be stuck with the nerds, so long as I look like him. Apparently that’s a big deal here.” 

Neil faltered slightly. “Well, yeah. Everyone kinda sticks to their own. I’ve always wanted to join the Olympiads, but they’d never let me on the team. I’m good at math and physics, but I’m on the Exy team. They don’t associate with jocks.”

“Olympiads,” Andrew mumbled. “Jesus Christ.” 

“Hey!” 

“This entire school is a disaster,” Andrew said, notching a cigarette between his lips and spun the lighter between his fingers. “I don’t give a shit about their stupid cliques.” 

Neil felt something warm in his chest. He’d always felt the same. “Careful. If Riko thinks you’re kicking up dust, he’ll retaliate. He likes to think he owns the place and prefers that everyone just sticks to their own.” 

Andrew trotted down a few steps before looking back over his shoulder at Neil. “Well, he can just get in line.” 

Huh, Neil thought, when he couldn’t get Andrew’s smirk out of his mind for the rest of the day. This is new.

*

gosh, teenagers r so melodramatic 

@filteredred don’t call me out on hypocrisy 

#andreil #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #high school musical au #the foxhole court #jock/nerd trope #very cute very nice #i was going to make it longer but i also wanted to get smth out because i havent posted writing in a whlie #so here ya go #the foxes #david wymack #fluff

[gamerdamemedia]

Test Case

So, for a couple weeks now I made a fatal mistake for all fanfic writers: I watched something different that inspired a story idea, & I haven’t been able to get it out of my head & distracting me from other things.  So, as I write to exorcise ideas from my head to make space, I decided to put pen to paper this afternoon... or fingers to keyboard, I guess, & write some of it out.  Not sure I’ll actually ever share it, as it might stay just my personal pet project, but I figured I could at least share the start.  Even writers needs a little side project just for their own enjoyment.  Now that studying is done & I’m back from vacation, hopefully I can get back to some regular schedule.  I’ve been out of sorts during this crunch time before the big test.

           In the grand scheme of the cosmos, freezing to death while drifting along the Etherium wasn't the worst way to go.  She could think of many worse ways to die after being spaced.  She could fall into the vacuum of space and suffocate, or stray too close to a star and get pulled in by its gravitational force to burn up, sucked into a black hole, or starve (or more likely die from dehydration).  But it seemed fate had seen fit to deal her a slightly kinder hand.  A hand that still said she was screwed, but only in the gentlest way.  With fancy silk sheets and plenty of lubrication.

           She would've laughed, but that would exacerbate the splitting headache she already had, so she settled for a chuff.  Clearly the delirium of losing core body heat was setting in.

           It seemed a rather appropriate bookend to her story, short though it may be.  Fitting that her last memory should be bobbing freely along the Etherium waves to wherever they deigned to take her, as it was also her earliest.  Gazing up at the endless, twinkling abyss, she could almost imagine the hard wooden deck of her grandfather's old longboat beneath her back.  Or maybe the rough fabric of his overalls, with the button that always seemed to poke her in her shoulder blade as she reclined against his portly torso.  She smiled to herself then.  That's a nice thought, she said to herself, letting her head drift back, supported by nothing but the lack of gravity.  It was almost enough to fight off the creeping chill that raced ahead of the numbness as her limbs stopped receiving vital blood. She'd always ridden the waves as they came, be them Etherium or fate, letting them take her where they willed. Why should the end be any different? "A man's heart devises his way, but fate directs his steps," her grandfather would say.  Smart man, for just a farmer.

           The irony wasn't lost on her, even as her brain began to sluggishly flit around poorly connected thoughts.  The woman who always had an escape plan, always left a way out... Lady Luck had robbed her of her one vice.  Not that she hadn't tried.  It was getting out that had landed her in this situation in the first place.  She'd booked passage on a small transport ship out of the Calyn Abyss to... actually, she didn't remember where the vessel was enroute to.  Away, was all that mattered.  A deal had turned particularly sour, and she needed to disappear in hurry.  With enough money in the right hands and a vessel about to pull out of port, nobody asked questions.  She'd stepped onto that dock as Absence, and left as Tammy Righte.

           Things had been going well, until a bit of turbulence from a passing comet had caused some sort of electrical malfunction.  As the transport rocked and swayed, the occupants had tied their lifelines, hoping to ride out the waves.  That was when everything started blowing.  Something must've shorted, creating a fire below deck.  She remembered people screaming as the deck shook. A particularly violent blast caused the ship to tilt and lurch, bucking like a mad bonzabeast, throwing her from the deck.  She remembered feeling weightless as she escaped the protective sphere of the ship's artificial gravity.  The last thing she remembered was something metallic from the ship hitting her squarely in the face before blacking out.

           When she woke an unknown amount of time later, she found herself adrift in space, far from anything to save herself with.  Her face ached something fierce, and she'd touched it to feel blood. Without gravity, it couldn't really pour, but she felt it oozing with each pounding pulse of her heart, trickling along her face whenever she turned her head.

           Despite the name, one couldn't swim through Etherium currents like water.  You went wherever they took you.  The knock from the ship had sent her essentially careening through space, and she'd keep going that way thanks to the lack of friction unless something intervened.  Not wanting to die, as any warm-blooded being wouldn't, she'd tried to find some way to stop or change her course.  But she wasn't near anything.  Eventually, hypothermia started to set in, and her limbs became too leaden to move. At that point, she'd resigned herself to her fate.  Why die tired?

           She reached up a hand to wipe the blood trickling in the corner of her eye, but her aim was sloppy due to not being able to feel her hands anymore. Don't spend your last moments thinking about such things, she told herself.  Shouldn't her last moments be happy?

           Relaxing back into the Etherium, she went back to imagining herself on her grandfather's boat, bobbing along.  They'd spent many a'night floating aimlessly in the sky, the green plains of her home rolling peacefully below them in the breeze.  As a little girl, she would sometimes lean out over the side of the longboat, so far her grandfather would have to pull her back to stop her from falling.  She'd giggle as he tickled her, tucking her safely to his chest.  "Tryin' to fly away, little bird?" he'd ask. "Ya' too young for that, yet." Some nights, if the weather was clear, he'd teach her about the different stars and planets.  He'd tell her tales about his brief stint in the Navy, or some adventure from his wild youth-- sometimes they'd even be true! Other times, they'd fall asleep drifting, only to wake up in some random place and go on an "adventure" to get back home.  Basic navigational and map-reading skills were an essential pick up.  He liked to pretend he was teaching her, but she knew better.  Man couldn't find his way out of room with a single door some days.

           Her favorite nights, though, were when he'd pull out his old harmonica and play for her.  On particularly clear, cool nights like this, his tune would be slow, the notes dragging on for long periods before warbling, bobbing like the waves.  She always felt like she was rising and falling in time with the tune.  Her hand came up to rest on her breast pocket.  Despite not having feeling in her fingers anymore, she knew the harmonica was still safe within.  She felt its outline pressing into her chest.  Briefly, she thought to take it out and play one final song on the old instrument in memorial, but with her hands as they were, she wouldn't be able to play.  And she didn't want to lose it.  So, she settled for letting her hand rest there, taking comfort in its presence over her heart.

           Everything felt heavy now, to the point she almost expected to start sinking.  The organ beneath her hand was beginning to slow as it lost the fight to keep her warm. Non-vital organs would start shutting down soon.

           She forced her mind back to more times with her grandfather, this time on land.  "Don't think you're too good to put your hands to hard work, little bird," he'd tell her... usually while making her do something around the farm he didn't want to do.  Chasing down some ornery creature that didn't want to be hemmed up, most likely.  Or time spent fishing at Mrs. Neelie's pond. She didn't actually like to fish, didn't have the patience for it, but she always went to watch him.  She swore, her grandfather could be in the middle of an ocean, miles from anything else, and still manage to get snagged on something. Or there was the time he tripped coming down the hill and nearly knocked old Mrs. Neelie into the pond.  She'd had to sit down, she'd laughed so hard. "Go ahead, laugh at the old man," he’d warned her.

           Her laughter melded into a sob at the end, lips pulled back in a grimace. The stars around her shined even brighter in the light of her tears stuck to her lashes.  She felt her lower lip wobble.  No one was around, what was the point?  She allowed herself to cry, flailing in impotent rage.  "I don't want to die!" she shouted to the heavens. Maybe this close, someone would actually hear her and take pity.

           There would be no one to mourn her, no one to even report her missing. Absence would be hunted for a while until her pursuers gave up and cut their losses.  Tammy Righte would be listed as death in absentia, another sad statistic.  All her other alias would only be missed when a contact tried to reach her for something, but swiftly forgotten as they looked elsewhere for someone to do their dirty work.  Her more frequent clients might wonder, but it would be a passing question, like the fate of a childhood schoolmate.  She'd ghosted through life, taking different names along the way.  She went through names like normal people went through clothes: you pick one as needs demand, it gets a little too dirty, discard it and pick out a new one.  So many names and alias and identities.  Her real name safely locked away.

           There was no one left who knew who she really was.

           The brief burst of indignation warmed her a little, but the almost absolute zero temperature of space just as quickly sapped it from her, the cold once again cradling her in its loving embrace.  Fear threatened to creep up faster than the cold.  She'd never been the religious sort.  She didn't know if there was anything after this. But if there was, she was sure she'd be going to same place as her grandfather, and that thought offered some bittersweet comfort.  Likely not heaven, but if he was there that would be heaven enough.  She wrapped her arms around herself as best she could, imagining it was the warm embrace of her grandfather.  Droplets floated up from her lashes as she smiled.  She'd held his hand when he died, a smile on his face. She kinda wished she had someone to hold her hand, now.  "Meet me at the bar, old man," she whispered.  "I'm buying this time."  Then she closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift to happier times as the cold, gentle embrace of death shrouded her.

#writing #side project #pilot #curious if anyone will know what this is even from #fiction #fanfiction

[alienisticxo]

X Angel - Chapter Two

Elon Musk x Reader

{Authors Note} Thanks to some encouragement on AO3 I will be continuing this strange little story. So if you happen to come across it, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: An uncomfortable instance.

Bright white camera bulbs flashed in every direction, the shrill ringing of screams filling my ears until I couldn’t hear myself think anymore. I was blinded by the light that flooded with every rapid click, snapping away at my every move as I exited the Cybertruck I’d been driven in. I was already fashionably late to a discreet -or maybe not so, now- meeting set up by the head representatives of my record label, Astra Records. My manager had decided to tip off the media, and my publicist decided to make it an event without it exactly being one.

It was a complex task, staring into those brazen flashes without so much as a flinch, but that was what was required of me. That was my job and life’s mission for as long as I held the position I did. The ‘drugged out’ smile I was known for never faltered as the flawless chrome of my body reflected every photographer's shining glamor shot right back into their lenses. Despite being surrounded by personnel, security and otherwise, people still clawed and clamored their way forward in an attempt to invade my space as I walked toward the large building before me.

“{Y/N}, over here!” one yelled.

“Give us a wink, will ya?” yelled another.

“I’d fucking die for you!” a shriek made itself heard over everyone else in the roaring crowd.

I just smiled and continued to trek, my {H/C} hair drifting around my face and behind me. I concentrated on my gait, my posture, the way my expression felt as I stepped past my adoring audience.

One misstep and it’s all over, of course.

Occasionally I thought about what a strange thing fame was. People would die or kill for you, just to see you or speak to you. We were all the same, deep down. No matter the wiring or blood that ran under our skin, or chrome. The only ones who seemed to place others on pedestals for no true reason other than a little talent that thousands of others had and would never get the chance to share, were other lifeforms. What really made someone want to know me more than another being who can do the same things, maybe even better? The only difference between myself and someone who possessed the same talents was that no one except the other party’s close circle of friends and family knew of their capabilities. We did it to ourselves, really. If only everyone were looked at the same way.

My security guards pushed against me then, catching me off guard in a crucial moment that could’ve been dangerous for me in more ways than one. They were blocking a rogue fan who’d been dying to ‘feel me.’

I tensed up in the absolute slightest manner as I followed Jett, my manager, into the tall metallic building that was made up of glass, but reflected the entire city skyline on its exterior, catching the neon glow, Saturn and the twinkling stars above with it. Privacy was a must, of course. Being able to see out but not being able to see in was imminent for any corporation’s design. The large double doors that disappeared with a glitch as we approached, reappeared behind us as we stepped further into the lobby of Astra Records. The noise of the rowdy crowd just beyond the front steps of the building sounded as though it was sucked back outside and muffled, like someone had put a lid over the heaps of people screaming my name.

“You’d think they wouldn’t need those old school cameras anymore,” I commented, the exasperation in my voice clear as I relaxed a bit more from escaping the masses, disappearing deeper into the lobby until the sound was no longer audible at all.

“{Y/N}, how else are they going to send the pictures back to Earth?” Jett asked me, a hint of condescension in his tone before pausing.

“People sure are different here aren’t they? They worship you celebrities like gods, worse than little fangirls back on Earth.”

I stared ahead, continuing my trek to the teleportation pad without entertaining his thoughts.

“Fuck, I’m in the wrong business,” he continued in slight disbelief to himself. “Maybe I’ll figure out how to go chrome and become a star instead of managing all you shitheads,” he joked snidely, a nasty grin on his metal-grilled teeth as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at me.

Jett had come to X from Earth after having no luck finding any clients to manage once the great exodus of the rich and famous began. Places like Los Angeles, New York City, London and Tokyo had already been cut throat with the industry players. Once everything fell out, no one trusted a soul to handle their affairs anymore.

It wasn’t hard to see that Jett wasn’t exactly a clean cut looking person to begin with, either.

It was my luck I’d be stuck with him at Astra, but I knew in all aspects I was just that— lucky. I didn’t complain. How could I?

However, as he put it, he hitched a ride on the next flight out and got to work right away with the record label. It was just that easy, and he was just that good.

Sure.

“It doesn’t work like that,” I finally responded in a flat tone to his statement, my eyes scanning the confines of the space as we stood a few feet from the pad. Jett pulled the oversized and black-reflective shades from his eyes then, turning his body to look at me. He lecherously stepped closer before running his -what I assumed to be- warm fingers down the side of my cold cheek slowly, his eyes raking up and down my frame. My jaw clenched unbeknownst to him, and I kept my gaze straight ahead.

“You are a sweet design, I’ll give them that… If it weren’t for security on your ass all the time…”

His eyes moved to the front doors in the near distance behind me as my security team approached us from their previous position handling the crowd, and with that, he let out an abrupt howl, snapping his fingers against the palm of his hand and turning back to lead me upstairs with a cocky gait.

It was moments like that that made my stomach churn. I had to deal with the disgusting remarks and actions, to take them like a champ without even indicating that I acknowledged them at all.

If I did, it was my life on the line.

I was just glad that was the extent of it from him. Even more grateful that that was the extent of it from anyone.

With a silent exhale, and no outward show of disapproval, I swiftly followed behind him onto the teleportation device, ignoring everything he’d said like it simply never happened. With one quick scan of our bodies, as fast as I blinked my {E/C} eyes, we were standing outside of the boardroom I’d only seen twice before. Once to meet the representatives, and the last time to sign myself away to them. As my security team entered next, I searched my surroundings again. The whole floor, who’s exterior wall overlooked another angle of Drax City and a beautiful moon above it, felt familiar as I caught sight of the usual decor. It was dark save for the neon buzzed along the walls, palm trees that were coated in a glittery powder that grew on the leaves as per a new gardening experiment sat in pots in corners next to chrome coated lounge couches and translucent coffee tables. A muted holographic television screen played Astra’s channel on it against a wall, and I saw myself there, giving the last corrupt public service announcement that the Planet X Space Association worked with the label for so long and so hard to have me release to the masses. PXSA was our form of government and space flight. An odd combination, but one nonetheless. I didn’t necessarily believe in the things they forced me to read aloud; fill the heads of the unwise and naive with. But the check was nice, and I was in no position to decline their wishes.

The large area was cast in purple, blue and pink light as nostalgic pinball machines blinked from a short distance away, offering a “glimpse into the past.” Another client, brand new, sat on a couch and played a video game through the latest virtual reality headset, the images they saw being cast across another holographic screen while they waited. It was all very pretty, really, very modern and yet fantastical as I had remembered it from before. But despite the ethereal atmosphere, I still felt uneasy.

I had no idea who I was meeting and what I was meeting them for this time. No one ever seemed to feel the need to tell me much of anything when it came to business affairs. I was told where to go, I showed up on schedule or a little late, and I did what I had to do as I learned what that was upon arrival. The rest was simply code and programming to the people who ran my life; there was no room for error, and I had to learn fast and according to the individual's expectations of me-- or better. I followed Jett down the long purple hued hallway just off of the lounge area, his sleazy demeanor seeping from his pores as he stalked his way to another pair of double doors and stopped as it scanned his body. He looked back over his shoulder at me once more with a smirk before turning and walking through them dramatically, announcing my presence as though I were some prized show pony come to a town where nothing ever happened.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only, Drax City’s own, {Y/F/N}... {Y/L/N}!”

That was my cue.

He stepped aside, his hands reaching out and over to exhibit my presence once I made my way through the doors behind him and stopped in my tracks, my heels still seeming to echo through the large room. Holding my head up high -chin slightly in the air like the small, but statuesque figure I was- was expected from me. And as I held my position, I immediately noticed eleven pairs of eyes sitting around an iridescent boardroom table that were set on nothing other than me as they quickly and quietly gasped and gawked.

“Her figure, the quality,” one drew out.

“I didn’t expect her to be so… so lifelike, in person,” said another.

“Oh yeah, she’s a real beauty,” said Jett, stepping around me then, his hand tightening around the metallic surface of my waist before raking through my hair as though I were a child’s doll. “X hasn’t seen a model like this… Ever. She’s the most famous pop star on our planet— They can’t get enough, eat her up like candy. That’s why she doesn’t come cheap, boys.”

He patted my side then, making me feel like a used car being sold by a greaseball salesman.

That caught my attention, though. My head turned just a hair, but I caught myself before anyone could realize my reaction. I ground my teeth, trying to compose myself through the abrupt shock I was facing. Quickly fixating my line of sight on a neon lamp in the shape of a star that burned in the corner, I desperately attempted to hold my composure. My ears seemed to have failed me however, my thoughts taking front and center as the men briefly discussed things amongst themselves.

Are they going to sell me? To who? Why?

“Oh, we know all about her on Earth. That’s why we want her. We can imagine she’s a planetary treasure here on X, but she’s interplanetary. Labels, execs, people, would just kill to get their hands on her,” one man said, looking at me with a fever in his eye. I guessed he might’ve been the catalyst for my… purchase. The word tasted bitter on my tongue even as a mere thought.

“They’d listen to anything she tells them to do.”

Jett smirked, lifting a shoulder and asserting dominance in his own way.

“She goes to the highest bidder,” he responded blatantly. “And none of this ‘cash’ bullshit. She’s obviously makin’ us a lotta crypto. No one else can afford her. That’s why she’s still with us here at Astra.”

I allowed myself to slowly absorb the situation, then. Astra was trying to deal me away to Earth, the very place I’d almost died trying to escape, all for monetary gain. It wasn’t unheard of, stars being sent to Earth and even back again, but I was X’s golden girl. Or maybe chrome…

They needed me. More than they thought, I now realized. They couldn’t replace me.

Or maybe I was the one mistaken, maybe they could.

As my eyes scanned the area, I also noticed the nature of the collective individuals that sat before me. All in black and gray pressed suits, all male. They’d come here solely to make a deal, an offer Astra couldn’t refuse, and they weren’t leaving without a signed contract, empty pockets, and my life. Fight or flight kicked in, hitting me like a brick, but I couldn’t react. Everything was in slow motion, and it was killing me from the inside out, not being able to protest. It wasn’t in my nature, but I had to play ball now, and well.

One of the suited men stood up from a chair that floated behind the iridescent glazed table, which I now noticed held the reflection of the cityscape that could be seen through the windowed exterior wall as well. He walked over to me with a drilling stare, his stride confident and assertive.

“And this is 100% cybernetic?” He asked Jett, as though I weren’t even in the room.

“Yes,” he spat incredulously.

“What model is she? From who?”

The man stood before me, eyeing me from top to bottom. I wanted to scream.

“That’s the thing,” Jett began again, moving to lean against the table. “We don’t know. She was left at our doors with a letter to the CEO, like some orphaned child. Said she had no recollection of anything other than her programming. We’re lucky her programming was to be a singer,” he finished with a snide grin.

The man snorted then. The tale was unbelievable, sure, but they had no choice but to believe it. There was simply no other excuse for me. A.I. was common, but I was as human as they were going to get, at least for the foreseeable future. That alone made me quite the commodity, something to be revered by other corporations, enterprises and record labels who needed a workhorse without the demands of humans. People saw themselves in me, they felt they could relate, or become just like me someday. This kept them eating out of the palm of whoever’s hand I spoke for and persuaded them to.

Still, the way my mind worked was not the same way as other A.I. beings. I had real demands in order to work, not lifting a finger otherwise, and I made sure they learned this once it was too late— once they couldn’t let me go anymore.

Unless you had enough crypto, apparently.

The older man examined what he could of my body with no regard for my own thoughts on the matter, looking everywhere for any indication of a branding or a code. His brow furrowed when he found none.

“Who are you?” he asked me then, seeming quite perplexed.

“{Y/N},” I smiled. “Drax City’s very own.”

“Where are you from?”

“Planet X, sir. Made and programmed. It’d be an honor to work with you and your people,” I lied. “This city gets kind of boring when you’ve done it all,” I finished exasperatedly.

“Very realistic,” he commented to Jett, his eyes still studying my face. “A.I. just keeps getting better and better. This is incredible. She’s so… human.”

“Did you think we were fuckin’ lying to you? I’m sure you’ve seen her all over TV, she might as well be a person. She thinks, she feels. Hell, I think I’ve seen her cry before,” he said, taking an apple that sat untouched and forever ripe from a bowl on the table. “And she doesn’t even rust.”

They conversed between each other then, deciding my fate with nothing more than cryptocurrency hanging between us. I wasn’t listening anymore, maybe it was a coping mechanism. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the notion that they would just sell me away to Earth. Maybe I just didn’t want to think they would. They used me for everything they did, advertisements, sold out shows, records— even virtual reality experiences. They made crypto over crypto, dollars upon dollars, thanks to cutting government deals as long as I told everyone to listen. I showed up to every event, knew everyone who was anyone, and then a few more people. If they needed something, I’d do it. If I needed something, they’d do it. That’s just how this worked.

Until now.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when a man standing near the corner closest to the window that I hadn’t noticed before, finally spoke up.

The lights from the city beyond cast a glow over his features, mixing with the neon that lit up the room itself. I knew exactly who he was the moment my attention turned to him, not only by his face, but by his deep voice as well.

Attractive, tall, dark haired and with a presence that could command a room despite the quirkiness that he was often known for, it took everything in me to keep from going slackjawed and wide-eyed. His eccentricities were a staple of his personality, and enigmatic wasn't a word enough to describe him and the aura that surrounded him. Anyone would’ve recognized the man, no matter where they hailed from, and yet, his presence certainly caught me off guard. He was even better than the photos.

He was Elon Musk.

Elon was one of Earth’s most influential people, if not the most influential person. But on X, there was a mixed opinion of him that wasn’t exactly warranted. Though he had helped humans become an interplanetary species, among so many other things, as artificial intelligence became more prevalent, it began to turn on its creators. This caused quite a rift between the cyber world and the human world, lending more firepower behind the crime that had already begun to lace the streets due to the advancement that kept average people struggling to make ends meet and survive in the new world.

Elon was blamed for the downfall despite the warnings he’d cautioned the public with for years. It wasn’t until Neuralink was released to the public for use that humanity began to appreciate him again on a grander scale. He seemed to single handedly salvage humanity, curing medical issues that otherwise had no solution, allowing humans to live for much longer with far better quality of life. Of course, until Earth fell apart again.

Planet X, though, was built on technology; on futuristic ways of existing that he himself had paved the way for, thus causing its inhabitants to maintain far less respect for him. To Xians, futurism was par for the course. Elon wasn’t special there anymore. They ate advanced technology and cybernetics for breakfast, and spat it out into something better for lunch.

But to me, he was still a hero. Though we’d never so much as come close to each other, he had never let me down before. From electric vehicles to space travel, to underground tunnels and mock flamethrowers, his creative and profound mind was something I’d always admired from the moment I learned of his existence.

He had his share of blunders like much everyone else, but overall, I knew he was a decent man. No one had ever made it their life’s mission to help humanity on such a large scale with the capability he had, especially in some of the worst times of what we knew to be Earth’s existence. He valued helping humanity, and he was always honest about doing so. Elon Musk’s intelligence was beyond comprehension, in a way that made anyone want to sit down and pick his brain. And, well, he had a sense of humor on top of it all that made him feel more real than the idea of him even seemed.  

I wasn’t sure what to think of him on a personal level, most people had good things to say, others horror stories. I never thought about it too much or imagined him to be any kind of way, not wanting to tarnish any of the admiration I already had for him. I never expected to meet the man himself despite my position in the galaxy. I was a star, but he was far beyond me. Deep down though, I just hoped he was kind, nice; even if they say to never meet your heroes, because they’re usually quite the opposite.

It took every ounce of control to remain the composed little package they all expected me to be in the moment.

“I’d like to see her on my own,” he stated, every head in the room turning to face him as he did so.

#elon musk #elon musk x reader #elon musk fanfiction #fanfiction #elon musk fanfic #spacex #cyberpunk #fanfic #darklydreaming #x angel #writers #slow burn #fanfic writer

[ediths]

Arrangement

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 6.1k+ (I AM SO SORRY THAT IT’S SO LONG)

Summary: Tom gives you an offer you can’t refuse

Warning(s): It’s not edited, sorry.

A/N: This is my submission for the throwback writing challenge that @naturallytom is doing! I hope you enjoy!!

Add yourself to my taglist here 

Masterlist

How did I end up in this situation? You ask yourself as you stand arm in arm with the one and only Tom Holland. There were flashing lights all around you, temporarily blinding you. There was nothing that you could possibly focus on. Nothing at all, except for the way that he held you to keep you steady.

Oh, yeah, I’m crazy. You think as you begin to walk slightly farther down the red carpet in a dress that costs more than you make in an entire year at your job. But are you really crazy? Who in their right mind would turn down an offer like the one that he gave you? You couldn’t think of a single person, which made you feel slightly better about the situation.

*

It had started as a normal Saturday. 

Your alarm went off at seven a.m. sharp. Your eyes snapped open, slightly disturbed by the blaring noise. There were broken rays of sunlight flowing into your room, making everything way brighter than it needed to be. You groaned to yourself, dreading the day you had ahead. 

You groggily pulled yourself out of bed, almost tripping over your own feet a million times. You stumbled around your room, finding everything you needed to take a quick shower. Once you found all the necessities, you quickly went to the bathroom to clean yourself and try to get you looking presentable. You stepped out of the shower less than 15 minutes later, having washed your hair and your body in record time, while also remembering to shave since your uniform consisted of a short sleeve shirt and a skirt - since the weather had turned almost unbearably hot. 

Your brain wasn’t even fully functioning yet, you were just going through the motions, doing what you do every morning when you have to go into work for an early shift.

With a cup of freshly brewed coffee and your keys in hand, you rushed out the door. You didn’t want to be caught in traffic, knowing that it would set you back by at least 30 minutes, which would in turn make you late for work. Traffic always ruined perfectly good mornings, and you wanted today to be a good day. 

*

You got to the small, corner side cafe where you work almost twenty minutes before your shift was scheduled to start, so you sat down at a table and pulled out your laptop to get some writing done. You barely have any time to write, so when you did, you seized the opportunity. You had been working on the same piece for weeks, and you were beginning to lose hope in ever finishing it, so having this time to work on your piece made your day just that much better.

You had gotten almost four pages of the story done when your manager walked up in front of you, carrying herself like she was the best person in the world. Her face held her signature smirk, letting you know that the day was about to take a turn for the worse, at least until she left in a few hours.

“Time to clock in, y/n. Wouldn’t want to be late. You heard what the boss said if you’re late again.” You shut your laptop and put it away carefully in your bag. 

You are completely aware of what he said to you. If you’re late one more time, whether it be because of traffic or not, you’re fired. He doesn’t care if you live forever away and the traffic sucks, he even went so far as to suggest that you find a job closer to home.

After you clocked in and laid your computer in the back room, you went to the schedule to see where they had you working for the day. You were assigned to man the cashier, which you normally wouldn’t complain about, but there were barely any customers. Within the first four hours that you were on the clock, maybe ten customers walked in and ordered something. And the last five were together. There were barely any orders, which meant that you spent the majority of your time at work wiping things down, making sure that everything was spotless, until a customer came in.

It’s going to be a really uneventful day, You thought to yourself. Days like these always were. They were the kinds of days that wore you down and made you feel even more tired after a shift than if you had been running around all day

Little did you know, this was not going to be one of those days.

Less than an hour before close, a man walked in. At first, you paid absolutely no attention to him. You were still wiping off a counter, waiting for him to come up to the register so that you could take his order. You had barely even looked up, just paying attention to how far away he was from the front counter. 

But when you actually did look at him, the air was knocked out of your lungs. 

Harrison Osterfield was standing right in front of you.

It took everything in your entire being to make your voice not shake when you asked, “What can I get for you today?”

He flashed you his award winning smile and rattled off his order. Surprisingly enough, it was quite simple. You quickly typed it into the register, assuming that the coffee would be the only thing he ordered seeing as he was alone. Before you could tell him his total however, he stopped you. 

“One second, love. My mate, Tom is coming too. Just got the text, let me get a tea for him, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Will that be all for today?” There was a slight shake in your voice that time, you having no luck concealing it. Tom Holland? Thomas Stanley Holland was about to walk into the small cafe that you work in? What are the odds?

“Yeah, that’s all, love. Thank you.” He hands you a fifty dollar bill and says, “Keep the change. Buy yourself something that’s almost as lovely as you are.”

You couldn’t help but blush as he walked away. Usually, you would take this as an insult, but the way he worded it made it seem like less of one. Usually the guys that left you tips were old men that either took pity on you or waited around after one of your shifts to see if you’d sleep with him because he gave you an extra five bucks.

But this was Harrison Osterfield, he wasn’t that kind of guy. Or at least, he seemed to not be that kind of guy.

A few moments later, their drinks were ready and you carried them out to Harrison so he wouldn’t have to get up again. You didn’t usually do this, but come on, these drinks are for two of the best actors you had ever come across.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He says with a smile as you sit down the drinks.

“No problem.” You all but mumble as you turn around, slightly intimidated by his presence. You keep your eyes trained on the floor so that nobody can see how much you're blushing. Maybe it’s how he’s literally one of the most attractive guys on the planet, or maybe it’s because of the accent, but everything that he says seems to be getting to you today.

That wasn’t your brightest idea, however, looking at the floor in a cafe when you should be watching where you were going. Before you knew it, you bumped into something hard.

You look up, expecting it to be a wall, since it didn’t move one bit. You’re pretty clumsy. 

As soon as your eyes lock with the chocolate colored ones attached to the brunette in front of you, you wish it was a wall that you had run into. That would have been a lot less embarrassing. 

“Are you alright, darling?” Tom asks you, putting his, rather large,  hands on your shoulders, ensuring that you’re steady and won’t trip in any way. 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you were clumsy enough to foolishly run into someone as important as him.

He chuckles, making your eyes shoot back up to meet his. Great, now he’s laughing at you.

It seems almost idiotic of you to think that today was going to be a great day. Yeah, it had started out that way, but all great days can change in an instant.

“No, no, it’s all on me. I was blinded by how gorgeous you are. Should’ve been focusing on not running into you and ruining my first impression.” His cheeks immediately turn a slight shade of pink, making him look even cuter than he already is. For a moment, you find it hard to believe that someone as perfect as him could be blushing and calling someone like you gorgeous.

“Oh, please, you could never ruin your first impression. I mean, just look at you.” You compliment, hoping you’re not being too forward, not wanting to scare him off when you just met him.

“Why, thank you, darling. I’m Tom.” God, that accent will be the death of you.

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to see that you still introduce yourself to people.” Most famous people that walked into this cafe expected everyone to know exactly who they were, even if they had only been in two episodes of a TV show or one film.

“Of course I introduce myself, I can’t automatically expect you to know who I am. For all I know, you hate movies.” He has a shy smile on his face, kind of like he was hoping you did like movies.

“Well, Tom, I do, in fact, like movies. But it’s sweet that you’re so humble about your major role in the film industry.” 

“It’s not that major, love. I’m just Spider-Man.” He talks about the role like it’s not that big of a deal, but you can see the way his eyes light up and the large smile that comes to his face.

“You are not just Spider-Man. Sorry if I’m being too direct here, but, in my opinion, Spider-Man will forever be the best superhero.” It’s your turn for your cheeks to tint pink. You can’t begin to process why you’re being this forward, this flirtatious. It’s the accent. Has to be.

“Is that so?” He smirks.

Oh what you would give to know what he was thinking at that exact moment. You may never know, however, because your boss interrupts the conversation you’re having.

“Y/N come back here, we have other customers than the Holland kid.” You roll your eyes at her and flash Tom an apologetic smile before reluctantly walking back to the counter.

There was not another customer in sight. There were barely any cars in the parking lot or on the street surrounding the cafe. Sounds about right, your manager had a long list of crazy rules for when she was the highest authority in the store. One of the biggest was that you’re not supposed to mingle with the customers for too long. She could have at least come up with a better excuse, though. Maybe Tom had liked your little cafe, and because of the rude comment, never wanted to come back.

*

The store is about five minutes from closing when Tom walks up to the register. 

“When’s your shift over, darling?” He has a cheeky smile on his face. For a split second, you let yourself internally groan. You had hoped he was different, that he wasn’t like every other guy that tried to pick you up after shifts. 

But then you realized, this was Tom Holland. There was no way in the world that he was like that. 

“Try to be more subtle, Holland. The directness doesn’t look too good on you.” You joke, knowing full well that it looks great on him. And honestly, if that’s what he had been asking, you would have pushed aside the part of you that was internally groaning and went right with him. Because, come on, it would be crazy to say no.

“I don’t want to sleep with you, love. I want to talk to you about something.” He smirks, obviously amused that you assumed he wanted to take you home with him.

You blush at that, embarrassment setting in. “I get off in less than five minutes.”

“Alright, sweetheart, my mate and I will be waiting in the car.” He points to an Audi sitting out front. “Meet us there. I’ll make Harrison sit in the back.”

“Alrighty, Tom, I’ll see you in five.” You give him a sweet smile, although you were extremely confused as to why you would be meeting him in his car.

Was he going to kidnap you? Who cares? He’s hot.

He turns and walks out the door as you rush to get everything done.

*

When your area is cleaned, you all but sprint to the back to get your laptop bag.

“Bye, everyone. Have a good night!” You yell, making sure everyone hears you. You always tell everyone goodbye before you leave, it’s just something that you’ve grown accustomed to. You started it the day that you began working at the cafe, and everyone liked the idea of it. So, it just kinda stuck.

You walk out of the cafe and head to the sleek, obviously expensive, silver car awaiting your presence. You open the passenger door and slip into the seat.

“Hello, love.” Tom greets you at the same time as Harrison says, “Dang, I owe you.”

“Hello, Tom. Harrison, why do you owe Tom?” The confusion is written all over your face as you look between the boys for an answer.

Harrison visibly gulps before replying, “I bet Tom that he scared you away and that you weren’t going to show.”

“Well, he was quite forward, but what person in their right mind would be told to come meet you two and not show up to, at least, see what it was you needed to talk about?” You sure couldn’t imagine someone turning down the offer.

“Exactly, Harrison. But, love, we do need to talk to you.” Tom says, turning your attention back to the actual reason that you are sitting in a car that costs more than probably three years worth of paychecks, with two very handsome men.

“Alright, fire away. What is it?” You’re more curious than ever, wondering what could be so important.

“So, my management is pushing me to find someone that will attend events with me.” His face contorts in embarrassment, already seeming to regret his decision of asking you anything. “They say that ‘a young bachelor like me will draw more attention if I am seen with a pretty lady by my side.’” He doesn’t exactly look embarrassed anymore, it’s more of a look filled with disgust at how his management team worded their statement. “Something about being more desirable if I’m taken. I don’t know. However, I do want to please my management, no matter how stupid they sound. And when I was talking to you in the cafe, you seemed to be sweet. And you’re gorgeous. And I felt like our conversation just kind of flowed.” He hesitates for a second, as if to see if you were following along or if you were lost.

He continued after you nodded for him to do so. “So basically, y/n, what I’m asking is, for the proper compensation, would you be that girl for me?”

“Wait, wait, wait. You, Tom Holland, are asking me, y/f/n y/l/n, to be the girl you take to major events?” You’re trying your best to wrap your head around the situation. 

“Well, not just that.” Harrison pipes up hesitantly.

“What else could there be?” Your voice is laced with confusion, and you know by the way that he places his arm on your leg to calm you, that Tom hears it.

“You would have to stay with me for a little while. Don’t worry though, if you say yes, we have guest rooms, so it wouldn’t be too invasive.” You can tell that he’s trying his best to make you as comfortable as possible with this. “You would need to go places with me, outside of these events. Nobody could know that the relationship is fake. Which means that our families and friends will have to be involved. Everyone, besides my management, and the three of us, would have to believe that it was real.” He avoids eye contact with you for a second, as if he was embarrassed to be asking something like this. 

You understand, though. He’s 23, he shouldn’t have to be tied down by a woman just because of his management. He should have the ability to choose what he wants to do with his life, especially the romantic aspect of it. 

“You can say no, of course.” Harrison says from behind you. “We wouldn’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

“Yeah, there’s no need for you to do this if you don’t wan-” Tom begins, reaching a hand behind him to scratch his neck.

“I’ll do it.” you interrupt, surprising both of the boys in the car.

“Wait, really. That easy?” Tom asks.

“You seem surprised, Holland.” It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. You worked at a corner side cafe for a manager that absolutely hated you, and you had no relationships, so you were completely free.

“Well, I kind of am, love. I didn’t expect for you to say yes that fast. If at all. I expected for you to have to think about it for a few days. And then ultimately say no. But, alright. I’ll set up a meeting with my management so we can go over a contract and what your payment should be.” He pulls out his phone to put everything in his calendar.

“There’s no need for payment. I don’t need your money. I’m just here to help.” In reality, you probably could use the money, but that wasn’t the kind of person that you are. You like to help people, and you never, ever ask for anything in return.

“You really know how to pick the perfect girl, don’t you mate?” Harrison says. You look back at him and he has a smile on his face. He doesn’t seem to be joking. That thought makes your stomach storm with butterflies and your cheeks instantly heat up.

“Seems like it. Everyone else would’ve wanted my money. You just seem like you’re doing this to benefit me. Nobody seems to be that genuine these days.” Tom says, his eyes never leaving yours. Of course you’re genuine. Just because he’s famous doesn’t mean that he’s any less of a human being. You would help anyone in a situation like this. If they needed you, you wouldn’t hesitate to be their fake girlfriend for a week or two.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But would you really say yes to just anyone? Probably not. At this point, though, you’re just telling yourself whatever helps you sleep at night.

“Well, I just figured that you could find someone worse than me. And if you really need this, who am I to make this hard for you? Plus, I don’t need your money. I have a job that I really like and it pays the bills.” You’re surprised that they seem to think so highly of you already. They don’t even know you. It’s nice to have someone think of you as more than an employee to boss around. Although, with this whole thing, you’ll basically be working for Tom. Just with less money and more touching.

“You’re about to have more than enough money. You won’t be needing to pay rent if you’re staying with me. If you want, you can move the stuff that you really need or want with you to my house. And the rest, we can put in storage if you want, it’s up to you.”

“That sounds alright to me. I can start packing tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Yeah, yeah, if you send me your address, I can come help you. Harrison would probably come as well, if he isn’t busy.” Tom says, looking back at Harrison for confirmation.

“I have a meeting in the morning, but I can come after lunch.” The blonde says from the back seat.

“Tom?” You say, getting his attention again.

“Yes, love?” He looks at you instantly, his eyes trace your face over and over, looking for any sign that you changed your mind.

“I don’t have your number. I can’t send you my address without it.” You smile, and place your hand atop of his, which was still on your thigh. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Hand me your phone darling.” You do as he says and he enters his number. “Text me the address and then anytime that you need anything.”

“Sure thing, now if you two gentlemen don’t mind, I think I’m going to head home. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“See you then, darling.” Tom says, watching you get out of the car.

“Goodbye, y/n.” you hear Harrison call before you shut the door.

You spend your drive home thinking about what in the world you just got yourself into.

*

Over the next few days, you had gotten closer to Tom. Your entire apartment had been packed up. You sent the things from your bedroom and other things that you wanted to make sure were with you to Tom’s house. The rest of your belongings went into a storage building that he wouldn’t stop pestering you until he got to pay for. That man was the most persistent person that you had ever met. 

You refused to let him pay for anything else, however. You didn’t need his money. And you didn’t want him to think that you only took his offer for the financial aspect. You genuinely just wanted to help him. 

You hadn’t started with your outings yet. You first had to have a meeting with his managers and some lawyers so that you could sign a nondisclosure agreement. Basically you just had to say that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this agreement with anyone. The whole thing would just end up blowing up in both of your faces. 

You could see the headlines now if this were to ever leak.

‘Tom Holland, 23 Year Old Heartthrob has to PAY for his Girlfriends!’

‘Y/N, Just Another Golddigger’

There was no way in the entire world that you would ever tell someone about the fakeness of the whole thing. The consequences would be catastrophic. And you could not be the reason that Tom’s career fell apart.

*

A week later, the NDA had been signed and you were hanging out in Tom’s living room. You were talking about absolutely nothing,but the conversation still flowed as if you were talking about something important. He was giggling at something that was on his phone when you had an idea.

“Let’s go out. To lunch. You know, like a date.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed for some reason. It’s not like you were actually dating him. This shouldn’t be scary. But it is. This is Tom Holland. 

What if you mess up? What if his fans hate the two of you together? What if his management regrets this decision? What if he regrets this decision?

That’s what’s running through your head as you wait for his answer. The silence that is radiating from him seems to be an uncomfortable one. The entire mood has shifted, and you hate the feeling of it.

“You-You’re asking me on a date?” You look up and he’s shocked. He’s looking at you like he can’t believe that you would ask him such a thing.

“Yeah, Tom. The public has to be introduced to me at some point. And it’s probably better to do some outings before the first event that you’re going to drag me to.” You try to explain, hoping that you thought right.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll go on a date with you, love. Where do you want to go?” He questions.

“I’m not sure. Where will we get the most exposure?” You’re trying your best to get this out there without having to do something like him posting it on Instagram.

You’re just trying to help him get this moving so that his managers have absolutely no reason to gripe at him. 

“Doesn’t matter. What’s your favorite place to get food?” He brushes the exposure idea aside, making it seem as if he really just wants this date to be just that, a date. 

Now you’re thinking crazy y/n, you think to yourself.

“Well it’s not really a restaurant, but I’m kind of a sucker for the Gains Bowls from the Body Energy Club.” 

“I have to say that I have never been there, or even really heard of it.” 

“You wouldn’t have. It’s over in the states. California.”

“Is that where you’re from?” He seems genuinely interested in the answer, so you answer honestly. 

“Yeah. Born and Raised. I moved out here to London so that I could stay with my best friend. He moved over here to go to college and I thought that was what I wanted too.” 

“What do you mean, you thought?” 

“I really just wanted to be a writer.”

“Do I get to meet this best friend of yours?”

“Oh, no, that won’t happen.” You want to leave it at that, as it is a sore subject for you, but you know that Tom’s going to ask why so you continue with, “We stopped being friends when he decided that my dreams were stupid. Told me that I would never make it as a writer.”

“Well, forget about him. You can be whatever you want to be. Don’t ever let anyone come in the way of what you want the most. I know the perfect place. But first, we need to get you into a dress.” 

“Are we matching?” You ask, wanting to know if you should coordinate with what he was wearing or not.

“No, not on dates, that would seem too staged.”

“Alright.” With that, you leave to go find a dress. 

When you signed the contract, you were also given a new wardrobe. Two, actually. One for dates that required dresses and one for non formal events that a dress should still be worn to.

The major events would have more extravagant dresses, of course.

So, you walk over to the rack in your room that holds all the ‘date dresses’ and you immediately pick the one that had been holding your eye since you got it.

It’s a blue high neck, lace cocktail dress. There’s a bow around the waist. It stops around mid thigh. You hope that Tom will like it. You remember him rambling about absolutely nothing in particular and accidentally telling you that his favorite color was blue.

You walk out of your room after fixing your hair and getting the rest of the things that you need.

Tom is standing in the living room in a white shirt, black blazer, and dress pants. Simple, yet perfect at the same time. How the hell can someone look that good? How the hell did you get so lucky? You know he isn’t really yours, but it’s a privilege just to be around him.

“You look ravishing, darling.” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“You look really, really handsome. Like, wow.” He chuckles at this, and your cheeks immediately heat up.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, love. I’m not the best at taking compliments, that’s all. Now, would you like to get going?” Tom says, trying to calm the nerves he can not only sense, but see due to the tint that has made its way to your burning cheeks.

You walk outside with him and get in the car. The ride to the restaurant is pretty quiet, the nerves having silenced you. 

“Darling, are you all right?” Tom asks, looking over to me when we came to a stop at a red light.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Tom. Just nervous about it all.” You say, looking down at your hands.

“What are you nervous about, sweetheart?” He looks over at you, concern evident in his voice.

“What if someone sees us and then they take pictures? I mean, I know that’s the point and all,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “but what if your fans hate me? What if they hate us together?” You’re completely out of breath now, the nerves not allowing you to get the proper amount of oxygen into your lungs.

“My fans will be fine with you, love. You’re gorgeous. We look great together. Plus,” he reaches over for your hand and gives it a light squeeze, “we don’t have to look at what they’re saying. They’ll warm up to the idea if they don’t instantly love you.”

His words do little to soothe your insecurities that have made their way to the surface, but you give him a smile anyway. 

He gives your hand another squeeze. He can tell that you’re still on edge.

“We can just go home if you want.” He suggests, just wanting you to be comfortable.

“No, no, it’s fine. I promise.” You assure him.

After that, the car ride goes back to being silent, but it’s no longer tense or awkward. 

It’s comfortable.

*

When you arrive at the little restaurant he brought you to, you look over at him.

“I’m gonna get out and get your door, alright love? Just breathe, you’ve got this.” He says, trying to reassure you.

He does as he said he would. He opens his door and grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips and giving it a warm kiss.

“Such a gentleman.” You coo at him, causing him to give you a sweet smile.

“I try.” He smirks at you, letting you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing, making your heart flutter lie nobody has been able to do in a long time.

You make your way into the restaurant, being seated almost immediately and then having someone bring your drinks of choice. 

“I miss moments like these.” Tom admits, although you don’t know what he means at first.

“Moments like what, Holland?” You question, wanting him to elaborate.

“Moments when I can be myself and not worry about saying the wrong thing because I know that someone is writing everything down.” This makes your heart swell, knowing that he feels this calm and open with you. 

“Well, I’m not writing anything down, darling. You can tell me anything you want and nobody will ever hear a word about it.” This makes him genuinely smile, and you can tell how happy he is to know that.

“Well, what do you wanna know, love?” 

“Hmm, what’s your story?” 

“That is such a cliche question!” He giggles.

“I know, I know, but I’m genuinely curious. The whole world knows Tom Holland: Spider-Man, but I just want to know Tom Holland: the person.” 

“Well, there’s not much to tell darling.” 

“That’s nonsense-” You were in the middle of your thought when the waiter came back up to you to take your food orders.

After he leaves, Tom looks at you and begins, “That’s not nonsense, there’s nothing exciting about me that you probably don’t already know.”

“Hmm, well, because of the media, I know that you have three brothers, all younger. You have a dog named Tessa. Two loving parents. You used to dance and you play golf sometimes.” He gives you a look that radiates surprise that you even know anything about him in the slightest. “However, I do not know your birthday, your favorite color, what made you want to be an actor.

“I don’t know what your favorite pastime is - unless it’s golf of course. I don’t know the little things.” He’s giving you a look of pure adoration, and you let yourself wonder for a second what this would be like if it was real.

“Not a lot of people take the time to get to know me like that anymore.” He says, barely above a whisper. You know instantly that it wasn’t meant to be heard, so you say nothing and let him continue. “If you must know, my birthday is June 1, my favorite color is blue, I was born an actor, darling, there wasn’t a question of whether I wanted to or not.” 

You giggled at that before motioning for him to continue. 

“And, honestly, unless it’s just hanging with Haz, golf probably is my favorite pastime.” 

“See? It wasn’t that hard to tell your story.”

“That’s not a story, y/n. That’s just details.” 

“Details make the story, Holland.” 

*

After you finish eating, he insists on paying, which you end up letting him do. But only because he brought up the fact that you were on a ‘date’ and no man in their right mind was going to make their girl pay, especially on the first date.

You’re on your way back out to his car, both laughing about nothing, when you get the sudden feeling that this may have been the best decision that you ever made.

*

A week later, you’re in a whirlwind of stylists, makeup artists, and managers. All getting you ready for some red carpet event that Tom was invited to. 

They’ve picked out an extravagant dress for you, one to match Tom’s suit. It’s a maroon, flowy dress. Very modest, neckline not showing too much, legs completely covered. But you still look like a princess, at least that’s what you think.

“You look ravishing, darling.” Tom says from behind you, shamelessly looking you up and down. 

You turn to look at him and all of the air is knocked from your lungs. “You look really handsome, Tommy.” 

He smiles at that. The first time you called him by that nickname, he seemed hesitant, thought it was too childish, but the name on your lips made it perfect.

“Thank you, darling. Are you ready to head out?” 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go show the world how absolutely amazing that Mr. Holland looks tonight.”

“Don’t forget that we have to show them how I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You cock your head to the side, wondering what he means by that. 

“I get to have someone as stunning as you accompany me, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” You can’t stop the blush that appears on your cheeks.

*

You stand arm in arm with him. There were flashing lights all around you, temporarily blinding you. There was nothing that you could possibly focus on. Nothing at all, except for the way that he held you to keep you steady.

There’s something about the way that he’s holding on to you, his arm slightly tighter around your waist than it needs to be, that makes your heart flutter, even though you know that there’s nothing going on between the two of you.

Right?

You push the thought fro your mind, almost completely. Although you can’t stop yourself from wanting to do something. Something that you’ve been trying your best not to do since the night you met him.

When he puts his arm back around you, you put your hand on his shoulder and lean up, giving him a kiss on the cheek, letting it linger there for a second before pulling away.

He looks shocked, and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake, moved too fast.

“I-I’m sorry. Was that too much?” He’s blushing profusely, and you begin to see that he’s trying to suppress a smile.

He leans down to your ear and whispers, “No, no, not at all darling. Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

And with that, all those little butterflies in your stomach multiply. And there’s no stopping them now.

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @babebenhardy, @akila-stilinski

Tom Holland Taglist: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts, @averyfosterthoughts, @thorsangel, 

#allysthrowbackwc #tom holland #th #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland au #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #ho #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield angst #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield imagines #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield x reader #pp #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #imagine #imagines

[sparklingchan]

Why,why? || Kang Hyunggu(Pentagon)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Kino.

Word count : 1k+

Warnings : Suggestive.

Genre : Fluff, romance, boyfriend au, established relationship.

Description : Just like the stars in the sky, there are an infinite number of reasons as to why you love Kang Hyunggu.

Author’s Note :  Guess who’s still crying over Ptg’s first win…. I’m so happy y’all  >_< So here’s a lil something to celebrate it<3 Repost because tumblr sucks ass.

Please do reblog , like and comment if you like this. My DMs are also open so if you want to gimme a review , feel free.

Enjoy!

They say that one cannot count the stars in the sky , but on rare times like this , you strictly disagree with that statement.

You stare at the dark purple sky above you , your brain now having counted upto a hundred stars just to prevent yourself from getting overwhelmed by the presence of the person beside you.

“A penny for your thoughts, y/n.” The feeling of Hyunggu’s soft tender fingers playing with your hair brings you back to reality, making you lose count of the stars above you as you concentrate all your attention on the one beside you.

“I’m not thinking anything ,really.” You reply , staring up at his face from his chest.

The moon shines on his face just enough to illuminate his best features - his eyes , his plump lips , the mole under his eye.

And you suddenly want to grab his face and place kisses on every inch of it ,even though you had done it just a few minutes ago.

But who can blame you , a man as beautiful as Hyunggu belongs in an art gallery and it is unbelievable that he still chooses to lie down on the moist grass with you in his arms, talking about everyone and everything.

“I love you.” you breathe into the fabric of his shirt , drawing small circles on his stomach with your fingers.

He has heard you say those words many times before ,yet they still make him feel giddy everytime you say it. It’s hard for him to believe that someone out there actually harbours such feelings for him, despite all his flaws and mistakes.

It feels surreal to him , just as it does to you, for true love is an emotion not many people know. One can offer their hearts to many people in one lifetime, still it needs luck to have the same people give their own hearts in return.

“Why.” Now that is a new response from his side - the answer to which you’d assumed he already knows.

“Why? Why is ’ why ’ even a question, Kang Hyunggu?” you roll your eyes , smiling sheepishly.

He shrugs as his free hand ghosts over your fingers for a few seconds and then he laces his fingers through yours. You shiver and you blame the fact that you’re wearing a simple shirt and track pants when in reality, it is his touch that chills you down to your bone. But , again ,in your defense, you’d never really fallen so sincerely in love with a person before - this is all so familiar yet exciting to you.

“I don’t know.” he replies with a mischievous smile, “You tell me, y/n.”

Hyunggu surely does know how to play hard to get , and it has never failed to make you feel all flustered .

It’s like a tug of war game , for it is unsure which side will win at the end but everyone enjoys it nevertheless.

You pull away from him , just enough to flip onto your stomach and rest your elbows on the grass and your face on the heel of your hand.

“Okay , so reason number one,” you start with a grin on your lips , “You’re an insanely talented musician.”

Hyunggu shrugs like it’s not a big deal at all , trying to be modest ,but it is a big deal. To you at least.

His devotion and passion towards music is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.The dark circles under his eyes , the outline of his headphones on his cheeks , the ink on his hands , you notice everything but never once have you seen him complain about it.And the way his eyes sparkle with joy when he talks about his songs and music is a sight to behold.

Hyunggu ’s entire existence revolves around music , like music were his sun and he were a planet. Planets cannot survive without a sun.

“The second reason is your personality. ” you place your hand on his cheek, stroking it gently. He smiles into your touch.

Anyone who’s ever met Hyunggu can confirm whole heartedly that he is the human personification of a warm blanket on a chilly winter night.His presence is so warm and alluring and comforting that you sometimes wonder how you had survived so many years without him. Alone. Cold and lonely.

“The third reason is your smile.” You say as you bend down to quickly peck him on his luscious, pink lips. He blushes under you.

His smile is a treasure you’d like to protect with everything you have ,for as long as you can. He has a smile that looks like it were the bright crescent moon on a cloudless night, carved by the gods and blessed by the angels.

You would do anything to see him smile. In a heartbeat, without a second thought.

“And the last reason has to be your eyes.” You whisper. Hyunggu wraps a firm arm around your waist , pulling you closer , “Now that’s something I’ve never heard before. Care to elaborate?”

“Well , you know how much I love stars, right? I feel the same way about your eyes because they’re so shiny and calm.” You sigh.

And you decide to not add the part where you think that his eyes look like your own two personal stars. Specially sent for you from the sky.

His eyes , nose , lips , heart , mind - everything was given over to you

He’s yours, just how you are his and this is how it will be till the end.

Hyunggu pokes his nose into your cheek , pulling you out of those self indulgent thoughts.

You giggle , your hand resting on his chest as you lean in to kiss him properly this time. Desperate and passionate. With tongue and teeth and tight embraces. You would never get tired of this , you realise. Never in a billion years. Even after your names have been forgotten and your bodies have turned to dust.

You would never get tired of Hyunggu.

#kpop #kpop au #kpop bias #kpop imagines #kpop ff #kpop icons #kpop imagine #pentagon #ptg #pentagon imagine #ptg au #pentagon au #ptg kino #pentagon kino au #ptg x reader #ptg fluff #ptg smut #pentagon imagines #ptg angst #ptg kino imagine #pentagon kino imagine #kpop fluff #kpop idol x reader #kpop smut #kpop angst #pentagon fics #pentagon gifs #pentagon gfx #please appreciate this #tumblr