Hi there :) could you please write a fanfiction about: Alex getting bitten/scratched by some alien during DEO assignment but she thinks of it as nothing and after work goes home to see Maggie (pizza night). But in the morning she feels really bad and her temperature is rising so Maggie calls Kara. When Kara gets there Maggie is in the shower holding (barely consious) Alex, trying to lower her temperature. Kara decides to get Alex to Barrys Earth (with that thing she got from Cisco) but Maggie wont leave her side so she comes too…? :)
She shrugs it off and she brings home pizza and she smiles
as Maggie fawns over the scrape on her wrapped arm, as Maggie presses soft
kisses all around her bandage, as she dotes on her girl even as Alex insists,
insists, that she’s fine, that it’s just a scratch, that it was no big deal,
But she secretly loves the attention Maggie is giving her,
the big deal Maggie is making; how strong, how heroic, Maggie is making her
Maggie knows. She lays it on extra thick, because Alex has
spent enough time neglecting herself – enough time being neglected – enough
time in the shadow of other heroes, of other injuries, to have hers attended
to, to have hers honored.
But in the morning?
In the morning, they both realize that she wasn’t fawning
over just a scratch.
Because in the morning, Alex is burning up and Alex is dry
heaving and Alex’s temperature is rising by the minute.
Maggie calls Kara with the phone balanced on her shoulder as
she half drags, half carries Alex into the shower, stripping her drenched
clothes to run her body under cool water, to try, to try, to lower her
temperature. To try to keep her somewhat stable until Kara can get her medics
that will know what the hell alien poisons are.
The DEO’s med bay was trashed in the attack the night
before, so for a moment, Kara panics. But only for a moment.
“Cisco,” she calls into the communicator he gave her. “I
need you. Now.”
Maggie knows better by now than to be shocked when a
swirling blue vortex appears behind her in Alex’s bathroom.
“Flash,” Alex giggles vaguely as her head lolls loosely onto
Maggie’s shoulder. “Bastard took Kara. Dangerous. Without me. Need words with
“Shh, that’s right, Ally,” Maggie whispers, looking askance
into the vortex as Kara lands in the bathroom door, ignoring the vortex all
together as she rushes toward the shower.
“What the hell happened?” she asks Maggie, grabbing a towel
to wrap her sister in, switching off the water as she kneels over her. “It’s
okay Alex. I’m here, I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“Kara,” Alex babbles. “Flash vortex.”
“That’s right, Alex. Star Labs is going to help you.” She
glances at Maggie. “It’s gotta be an infection from that scratch last night.”
Maggie nods, and her eyes are wide as she watches her
girlfriend slip in and out of consciousness. She barely notices when two men
appear in the bathroom behind them, breathing slightly heavily, the one with
the strange goggle-glasses with his hand on his chest and a vague grin on his
“Only took one try this time! My man, we’re getting better
at this!” He holds up his hand for the man in red to hit, but the Flash leaves
him hanging as he goes to kneel next to Kara.
“This isn’t how I wanted to see you again. Or how I wanted
to meet your sister.”
“Thanks for coming, Barry.” Kara gives him a sideways hug as
he looks down at Alex’s drenched body.
“Hey, secret identity,” the other man murmurs, but Kara
waves him off.
“Maggie’s family, Cisco.”
Maggie glances up at him – at Cisco – and grimaces a
greeting, too numb with fear to fully register the impact of Kara’s words.
“Looks like an infection, obviously, but metas aren’t
exactly like aliens, so I don’t… Come on,” Barry tells Kara. “We have to get
her back through the vortex. Caitlin’ll come up with something, Kara. I promise.”
Kara nods grimly and picks up Alex’s limp body in her arms
like she weighs nothing. Barry gingerly positions the towel more completely
around Alex’s body while somehow averting his eyes from her nakedness at the
same time, and Maggie immediately decides she likes this Flash character.
She rises to follow Kara into the vortex, and they all look
at her and hesitate.
“It’s a parallel earth, Maggie. It’s not… the more people we
take over, the bigger the risk of – ”
“Look, I know you don’t know me, and I know you have this
big superhero system on your earth, and I know you have super speed and you
have some vibing shit, but I swear it doesn’t matter what superpowers you both
have. She’s my girlfriend and I am not leaving her side.”
Barry stares for a moment and then nods grimly, once, while
a broad smile grows on Cisco’s face. “Dude, she gay?” he asks Kara. “Nice
work!” He grins down at Alex’s unconscious form, and sobers immediately. “I
guess I’ll… congratulate her when she comes to.”
Kara rolls her eyes and Maggie grins faintly at Cisco’s
enthusiasm for queerness, at his persistent belief, his obvious faith in this
Caitlin person to save Alex, the way his eyes grow somber and focused and
intense as he turns back to reopen the vortex.
“Nothing bad’s gonna happen to your girlfriend, Maggie.
We’re not gonna allow it.”
He reaches back for her hand and squeezes slightly before he
opens the vortex, and Maggie gulps her appreciation, because her throat is too
constricted to allow for any more words.
“Kara,” a beautiful white girl rushes forward when they step
through the vortex. “Lay her right here.”
Kara obeys and the woman – “Caitlin Snow. Best doctor on
this or any earth. She’ll fix your girl. I promise,” Cisco leans in and
whispers to Maggie – slips into mode immediately, with an intensity of focus
Maggie has seen in Alex so many times, both in the field and in the bedroom.
“Do we know anything about the species that gave her the
wound?” Caitlin is streaming through questions with Kara, with Maggie, as she
checks Alex’s vitals, as she drapes a medical gown over her body, as she makes
notes to herself and exchanges significant glances with a concerned-looking
Kara and Maggie are fielding answers as best they can when
two more people burst into the lab, one in a yellow suit that almost matches
Barry’s and one in a pair of jeans that would have Maggie gulping under other
The woman with the jeans falls into Barry’s arms after
pulling Kara into a long hug. “Are you alright? I know what it’s like to watch
a sibling in danger,” she says, shoving the boy who ran in with her gently.
“I trust Caitlin,” Kara says softly, but her eyes are wide
and her eyes are terrified.
“Iris West, and my brother, Wally. Kid Flash,” the woman
holds her hand out to Maggie. “You’re Alex’s girlfriend.”
Barry, Wally, and Cisco all turn to stare at Iris, and even
Caitlin glances up with an arched eyebrow.
Iris shrugs. “Journalist. Also, I know a little something about watching your
unconscious superhero partner get prodded and poked on a medical table: I know
She nods her head toward Barry, but her warm eyes don’t
“Maggie Sawyer, NCPD,” Maggie recites automatically, and
Kara reaches out and squeezes the hand that Iris doesn’t have.
Iris offers Maggie a small smile. “My dad’s a cop, too. He’d
approve of you for someone as amazing as we’ve heard Kara’s sister is.”
Maggie gulps and her hand clenches Iris’s harder without
meaning to. “Caitlin’s the best. Alex is gonna be okay.”
“Alex is gonna kill Barry for letting Kara go fight an army
of aliens without her alien-fighting sister,” a ragged, exhausted voice croaks
from the medical table.
“Alex!” Maggie and Kara both exclaim, and Caitlin smiles as
she steps back from the table to allow Alex’s family to surround her.
“Babe, I’m here,” and “Alex, I’ve got you,” accompany “Damn,
Caitlin, alien infections stand no chance against you!” and “It was simple,
really, and important that Maggie got Alex’s temperature down as fast as she
did” and “Told you Caitlin’s the bomb” and “Please no bomb references, not
after last week” and “Should I leave before she comes to fully? Because I
really think she might make good on her threats to kill me for bringing Kara
over here without her” and “Run Barry, run.”
And Star Labs had never been quite so full of superheroes,
or quite so full of relief, or quite so full of love across earths.
A free woman had everything, a free woman could do anything, a free woman didn’t needed to obey, a free woman was revenged if killed, a free woman was free and happy but you were not. Your fate was not to be a free woman, but a slave to the queen. She was nice, even if she treated you like a servant she was not abusive or mean with you but her sons were not like her. You had to support their gaze on your body every time when you had to fill the glasses, it was both intimidating and terrifying.
Your heart was beating in your chest extremely loud as you were filling Ubbe’s glass, you could even feel your legs trembling and you were afraid that everybody could see that. You wanted to retreat back on your place but Ivar motioned for you to come to him. You filled his cup, his hand traveling from your waist, to your thighs.
“Come to my room, tonight!” he demanded, your body shook in fear but you nodded in agreement even of you were scared and close to faint. You were afraid for your own life but after a second thought you realized that you live no life, you’re captive, you’re a slave so if he decided to kill you it will just free you form your pain.
Ivar was waiting for you, only his pants on. You approached slowly, taking off your dress as you advanced towards him. You got on your knees, not looking him in the eye. All that you wanted was for this to end up faster.
“Tell me, are you here because you want to be here or because I asked you too?” he lifted your chin, making you look into his blue eyes, into those merciless eyes that were showing only lust and thirst.
“I’m here because you told me to come.” you whispered softly, afraid of him and of how much he could make you suffer. You saw something change in his eyes but you didn’t dare to question it, instead you let your head down again only for Ivar to lift it up again.
“If I would ask you to be mine now, if I would ask you to give yourself to me, would you?” his voice is soft, covered in honey but you know that it is a trap, that he was just testing you. You didn’t knew how to answer, you didn’t wanted to be hurt or killed you were afraid of him but still a big part of you craved for him, for his touch. You wanted to be his but your worries got the best of you and you were there, stuck, not able to say a word, lost into your mind, lost in the battle between lust and fear.
“I don’t know…” you answered him, still trying to figure it out whom was stronger, the fear of the lust.
“Hmm, I’ll take this as a yes.” he affirms pulling your head up so your lips can meet. He’s not soft, even though this is the first kiss that you share with him and you know that he will never be soft, this is not his way. He was not born to be soft, he was born to be a ruthless leader and you knew it, you knew it from the first moment when your eyes meet his.
Now you didn’t knew what you were waiting for because as he deepened the kiss you started to lose control over your body as you climbed onto his lap and pressed your body to his. You moaned when his hand caressed your back, making you shake as chills were running down your back. You knew that Ivar, unlike the rumors, was a very talented man, for you saw him with other woman and you knew what he could do, you knew that he could bring a woman to her end in a matter of minutes. Your hips grind against his in a steady pace, Ivar’s hands grab your hips, digging his fingers in your skin, you break the kiss still grinding onto his crotch, feeling his hardening manhood under your wet folds. You look around and see a knife next to the bed. You reach for it, feeling Ivar’s intense gaze on your moves. You take the knife in your hand feelings it’s weight, pressing the blade to your lips to feel the sharpness of it. You want to feel that blade all over you, marking you, painting you in red as the blood surfaces. You look at Ivar as you play with the knife and you see his pupils widening.
“I want to use this on me, if you please!” you whispers in Ivar’s ear you see the lust growing in his eyes as he smirks darkly turning you around, his lips kiss yours again, lustfully, mind-blowing. You shudder as the blade cresses the skin of your arms lightly.
“Ivar…” your desperate moan awakes something inside of him, making Ivar to stop kissing down your neck. He pulls away looking you in the eye and his smirk widens.
Ivar looks down at you, moving the knife from one hand to the other, you look at him, needy and panting as he finally presses the blade to your skin in a harder way. He beings from your collars, dragging the knife along your skin, wondering between your breast until he reaches your hipbones, he does it on both parts of your body making you moan and shiver as you feel the stinging pain rushing into you, growing your arousal.
“More, please give me more!” you beg looking into his eyes but he smirks as he puts the knife aside and starts to lick up the blood that surfaces though the wounds. His tongue is soft against the cuts but it still stings making you beg for more and more of that little bit of pain. “Ivar, please!” you beg once again but he refuses to do so.
“No, I think I have had enough of this. And my little slave we will have endless nights to do this again and again.” Ivar’s voice makes you shiver and your hips start to work again against his with fast movements you want nothing more but to reach that high point that will make you shutter in pleasure but Ivar haves other things in mind. He grabs your hips pinning them down on the bed so you can not move. “Don’t be so eager little one, you didn’t earned your finish yet.” he informs you before releasing your hips. He leans on his back and takes his pants down and you can’t help but stare at his it’s so much more than how you imagined it would be and it throbs with the need of release. You don’t wait for Ivar to tell you what to do but you grab him in one of your hands and you lower your head over it, taking it in your mouth and starting to suck it fast, it made you feel so good to know that you have all the control over him but soon everything changes as his hands press your head down and he starts to move his hip, hitting the back of you throat but you still like it, the feeling of being dominated feeling so normal and pleasurable.
“Good girl.” Ivar breaths out as he pulls you away from his cock, you look him in the eye licking your lips as his gaze follows the marks that he did on your body with the knife.
“Tell me, did anyone touched you like this before?” his hands slid between your legs caressing your little wet womanhood. It feel strange to have his hand down there caressing you so lightly, making you moan.
“No.” you breath out leaning closer so you can kiss his lips. Ivar pecks your lips and pulls apart from you. “ Then we will do this later. Lay on your stomach.” he commands and you obey feeling the ache between your legs as it grows stronger.
Ivar lets you settle before he goes on you back pushing his cock inside your little cunt, he bites your shoulder and your neck as he slowly slides in. You moan deeply as he does so, feeling him completely inside you, stretching you like no one else before. It’s mind-blowing and so pleasurable. Ivar starts to thrust fast inside of you, his moves rough, making you feel both pleasure and pain and it makes you lose your mind, your already aching core finding it’s release way to fast, but Ivar doesn’t stops he is still moving inside of you, making you throw your head backwards feeling overwhelmed by pleasure, the soft furs rubbing against your clit.
“Ivar…” you moan out his name and he hits your ass lightly with his hand.
“What do you think little slave? Would you like me to do this to you again? Would you like to feel this again?” he asks , lips almost touching your ear, you can’t say anything as your brain seems to forget how to work but Ivar spanks you all over again, the sting on your ass making your core ache again.
“I want you , deeper, harder… please take me Ivar!” you breath out and he starts to move faster inside of you, you’re both panting and you know that he will cum soon by the way in which his cock throbs, hie pace is no longer steady but wild and rough, you throw your head back as you feel that you break apart in pleasure again and Ivar does the same. He stays on your back for a while, trying to catch his breath, he rolls over and you curl up against his side, you feel his semen inside of you, a little bit of it running out but it does not bother you.
“Do you want me to go?” you ask after a while of looking at the walls, waiting for him to do something.
“No. I want you to stay.” he whispers, one of his arms wrapping around your waist so he can bring you closer to him. “You’re mine, now and always. You’re my little slave.” he tells you before you fall in a deep sleep right besides the man that you always desired, beside your dark prince.
The night is dark and full of Stricklake, she whispers…
AND I FOR ONE AM HERE FOR IT!
Dedicated to @humanityinahandbag & @bifacialler, my fellow shipmates in Stricklake Hell and who deserve all the love and encouragement in the world! Ler my love, please feel free to think of this as an early birthday present =)
Fair bit of warning, folks, it gets quite steamy here. Nothing that warrants an Explicit or Mature rating, of course, but…well, if you read An Amorous Attack, you know what’s in store.
As always, I hope you enjoy!
know…you didn’t have to walk me
arched a brow at her as they made their way up to her porch, the gesture making
those (so unfairly gorgeous) green
eyes of his glint as his mouth curled into a half smile, the same one that had
made Barbara’s heart do such a strange little spasm when first seeing it that she
had been worried until she realized that oh,
had been followed by Oh God, what the hell are you thinking, getting a crush
on your son’s teacher?
“It is obligatory on you O Muslim woman to obey your husband in matters of good. It was narrated from Abū Hurayrah – Allāh be pleased with him – that Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:
“If a woman prays her five (daily) prayers and keeps her private parts chaste and obeys her husband, she will enter Paradise from any of the doors of Paradise she wishes.” [Reported by Ibn Hibbaan in his Ṣaḥīḥ]
It was narrated from Abū Hurayrah – Allāh be pleased with him – that Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:
“It is not lawful for a woman to fast while her husband is present unless she has his permission. And she must not allow anyone in his home except with his permission.” [Reported by Al-Bukhārī and Muslim]
Also it was narrated from Abū Hurayrah – Allāh be pleased with him – that Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:
“When a man calls his wife to bed and she does not come to him, and he spends the night angry with her, the angels curse her until the morning arrives.” [Reported by
Al-Bukhārī and Muslim]
And in the report of Al-Bukhārī and Muslim, the Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:
“By the One in whose Hand my soul is, there is no man that calls his wife to bed and she refuses him, except that the One who is above the heavens is displeased with her until he (the husband) becomes content with her.”
From the rights the husband possesses over his wife is that she fulfills the duty of tending to his household and not coming out from it except with his permission.
The Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:
“The woman is the caretaker of her husband’s household and she will be questioned as to her responsibility.” [Reported by
Al-Bukhārī and Muslim]
Another right he possesses over her is that she fulfills the duties of the household and that she does not make him hire a female servant, which will cause harm and due to which there will be a risk of danger for himself and his children.
Shaykh al-Islām Ibn Taimiyyah – Allāh have mercy on him – said commenting on Allāh’s saying:
“Therefore the righteous women are devoutly obedient and guard in the husband’s absence what Allāh orders them to guard (i.e. their chastity).” (4:34)
“This mandates the unrestricted obligation of a woman obeying her husband, in all affairs, such as serving him, traveling with him, assisting him and other matters, as is indicated in the Sunnah of Allāh’s Messenger.” (Majmū’ al-Fatāwā [32/260-261])
The great scholar, Ibn Al-Qayyim, said:
“Those who say that it is obligatory for the woman to serve the husband use (this ayah) as proof in that those who Allāh directed His Speech to (on this occasion) considered this to be from al-ma’rūf (good). But as for the woman relaxing and having the husband serve her, sweep, grind the flour, knead the bread, wash the clothes, fix the bed, and serve the household, then that is from al-munkar (evil).
And Allāh says:
‘And they (women) have rights (over their husbands) similar to those (of their husbands) over them.’ (2:228)
And Allāh says:
‘Men are the protectors and maintainers over women.’ (4:34)
So if a woman doesn’t serve her husband, but instead he acts like a servant to her, then this means that she is the protector and maintainer over him.”
He (Ibn Al-Qayyim) further said:
“For indeed Allāh obligated him to spend on her, to clothe her and to provide her with a place of dwelling in exchange for his enjoying her and her serving him, as well as what the habits of the spouses call for.
Likewise, the binding marriage agreements require that the spouses live in kindness. And kindness means a woman’s serving (her husband) and taking care of the inner affairs of the household.”
And he (Ibn Al-Qayyim) said:
“And there is no difference as to whether the woman is prestigious or lowly, or if she is poor or rich. Just look at this woman who was the most prestigious of women in the world…” - al-Hadī (5/188-189)
He is referring to Fāṭimah – Allāh be pleased with her – for she would serve her husband and come to the Prophet (ﷺ) complaining to him, but he would not complain about her.”
Optional sequel to “Grand Finale.” While her mother-in-law is helping her through a painful childbirth, a terrified Ashi has to believe in herself that she will be a better mother than her own ever was. Meanwhile, her husband and father-in-law are planning for the child’s education to be just like its father’s. Post-finale rewrite, with a baby who brings joy to all!
Not a request, but a oneshot I was dying to do since seeing that beard. This is also fuelled by the collective beard fantasies/conversations with @momis30@thedevilsmomma and a few anons.
“Should I get a skin fade or leave a bit of stubble?” Roman asked nonchalantly as if asking what the weather’s like for the day.
Y/N lowered her magazine and eyed him wearily, “In terms of what?”
“Beard,” he said, speaking with his hands before resting them on her legs that lay on his lap.
But Y/N sat up and intensified her stare, shaking her head in confusion, “Ummm and why would you do that?”
Roman noticed the stress in her voice as she challenged him. He stroked the beard, thinking of a good way to word it. He knew how much she loved it.
“It’s getting hotter, I can’t cope with a damn forest on my face,”
“Babe, we’re in Florida. It’s hot every day of the year, bullshit, don’t you even dare,”
“It’s my beard,” he mumbled, pulling a childish face.
“I said you’re right,” he winked. “Nah but for real, I need to get it trimmed for that GQ shoot,”
“Fuck them, y'can’t shave it. I need you to keep it!”
“You wanna tell them that for me?” he smiled.
“Hell yeah, me and a load of other women, I’ve checked the stats, I know I have a backing,” Y/N said confidently, putting the magazine down.
This was serious business.
“Keep it please? I rarely ask for favours, do this one for me,”
“For what reason?”
“Other than you look so frickin’ sexy?” She asked, biting her lip as she admired him, always, with or without the beard. “It feels so good when you kiss me…”
“So you want me to keep it just for kissing?”
She shook her head no and climbed on his lap, straddling him and cupping his face.
“Noo, you look hella good with it, and without. But with it, you’re like the equivalent of a man in a suit, it does things to me,”
“Oh yeah?” he smirked, shooting his brow up. “Things like what?”
“Inspiring a looot of dirty thoughts,” she whispered in his ear before nibbling and gyrating against him. “Wanna hear what else?”
“Uhhh yeah, I guess so, maybe one or two,” he said tryna act cool about the whole thing, but he was dying inside, aroused by the mere prospect of her being turned on.
“I love it when it grazes my thighs when you go down on me,” she said daringly, watching him for his response.
He smirked, and shifted slightly in his seat, “I believe you told me this before,”
“Have I also told you that it feels nice on my pussy?”
“Dirty girl. I mean, I forgot, but we can always reenact this, jig my memory a bit,”
“Yes, and for demonstration purposes,” she hissed.
He rolled her over onto her back, not wasting anytime, he put his hand down boy-shorts before looking up and giving her a ‘really’ look. She smiled, biting on her finger seductively.
“Oops,” she shrugged with a giggle.
He groaned and sat up for a second, slipping them off and admired how wet she was for him. So pretty, ready and welcoming.
“Y'know what it does to me when you don’t wear any panties,”
“And y'know what it does to me when you grow your beard,” she retorted.
He licked his lips and grabbed her legs, drawing her closer to him. He leant down and kissed her, distracting her and slipped himself inside her. She moaned in his mouth, accidentally biting his lip as he rested all the way inside her. He pulled away and gazed down at her, expecting to see the disappointment or frustration for not going down on her first, but she looked satiated, waiting for him to rock into her.
“C'mon baby,” she urged, her legs wrapping around his waist and egging him on.
He followed command, gyrating slowly but with power, filling her all the way in each time. She gasped in his ear with each thrust, nibbling her neck, biting her ear and then back down to her neck. And when he took a break from that, he was nuzzling against her neck, his beard rubbing against her smooth skin.
When he felt her walls contract and her nails digging into his biceps, he pulled out slowly, much to her disappointment. His body tightened at the cry that left her lips.
“Roman,” she whined, vocalising her disappointment.
“What sweetie?” he feigned oblivion, his voice light.
“Y'know what, I was gonna cum,”
“Too bad,” he smirked deviously at her and winked.
He began the trail at her décolletage, peppering her body with kisses, enough to make her forget the missed orgasm. She shivered as he descended on her body, he was sucking her breasts tenderly one second, the next, he was at her naval, or tracing the line where her thighs joined the rest of her body.
Her mouth watered at the promise of his lips on hers, drinking from her fountain, suckling, nibbling and biting. And he did just that. Her legs tightened around him, securing him in place as he nibbled at her nub. With each tug, his beard grazed the inside of her thighs. She trembled at the feeling, automatically gripping his hair in a balled fist. He lapped at her again, enjoying her sweet romantic serenades she was blessing him with.
“Fuuuuck,” she squealed, her back lifting off the couch.
He flicked his tongue at her nub, then sucked it gently until he felt her legs shaking, before relocating to her opening where she oozed out, trickling into his mouth. He suckled at her, wrapping his lips around her and enjoying each taste. She found her back lifting off the couch and grip on him tightening. And as hers did, so did his on her thighs. She was gonna hate him tomorrow for this, for that beard that lusciously caressed her skin, with a prickly graze.
“I know you’re cumming,” he commented, eyeing her up from his position as he feasted on her, tasting every inch of her sweet flesh.
She nodded in response, her thighs clamped tighter around him so she could savour that facial hair on her skin. She rolled her hips emphatically beneath him, because she couldn’t get enough but she wanted to come undone at the same time. He was in no rush so he continued at his pace, and thought to spice things up a little bit more. He dipped his index finger in there, then another followed.
“Roman…baby…fuck,” she shrieked, attempting to free herself from him to get a moment to breathe and recuperate from the sensory overload.
The pinpricks of his beard brushing over her wet folds sent her over the edge, stimulating her clitoris and he felt the effect of it when her walls clenched around his fingers.
“Do that again,” she begged.
“Mhhh?” he asked, intentionally so that he could vibrate against her.
“Do it again…I wanna feel your beard on me,” she managed to say in between breathy moans. “Yes! Yes! Yessss!”
He obeyed his woman, watching her as he did so, how she fell apart with that gesture alone, even though it was her own command. He could see the impending agonising yet blissful release building up in her, so he was gonna give it to her.
“Come for me,”
“You’re…uhhh…touching…” touching her g-spot, she wanted to moan but the words escaped her.
His fingers mimicked his shaft; separating her lips and stroking her as he lapped at her simultaneously. He gazed up from between her legs, wondering why she’d let go of his hair and saw that she’d closed her eyes and pinched her stiff nipples, rubbing them between her two fingers. She could have sworn she’d just touched the sky. He grabbed one of her hands and replaced it with his mouth, and then she came; thrusting her body upwards into him. She trembled, and gasped, too weak to scream any profanities, even as she watched him suck her juices off his fingers, and her lower half tingled from the constant friction. It was so worth it.
“Well…” she began, speechless. “Wow,”
“You okay?” he chuckled.
“Yeah,” she reciprocated the chuckle, lost in thought. “Give me a minute baby, I need to catch my breath,”
“Who said this show’s about me?” he questioned her before curling his arm around her, hurling her into a sitting position.
And when she realised just what was happening, she could’ve sworn she’d cum at the thought alone.
“Oh jheeze,” she cried, holding onto the couch head rest as he helped her lower her.
“Uhhh…oh my fucking Go- Roman!” she thrushed against him, rolling her hips on him frantically as her lips seperated at the mercy of his tongue; his beard freely brushing against it. This was heaven. It was pure bliss.
Y/N sat at her desk at work the following morning, fidgetting as she struggled to find a comfortable position. Her legs ached. Her thighs ached. Her thighs burnt. Her pussy felt sore, all from the intensive session last night.
She’d complain, really she would, had the pain not derived from a such a euphoric night. The lasting bittersweet pain of his beard grazing whatever part of her skin it made contact with, made her salivate at the mouth, wanting to do it all over again. Right there. On her office desk, legs splayed out for him as he brought her right to the edge of the table and feasted on her like he did last night. But she glanced up and counted four and a half more hours until she’d go home.
Roman: What’s up? 😕
Y/N: I can’t sit down properly
Y/N: And I’m walking like a freshly fucked virgin. I’m so sore.
Y/N: Help! People at work keep asking me what’s wrong
Roman: LOOL! 😏 what can I say?
Y/N: Seriously, fuck you
Roman: Poor choice of words
Y/N: I’m using leg day as an excuse for walking funny 😔
Roman: Lame. Tell them what really happened
Y/N: Fuck off
Y/N: I hate you and your stupid beard
Roman: You weren’t saying that when you were sitting on my face though. It’s fine, I’ll get rid of it.
Y/N: NO! NO! Keep it around…for demonstration purposes
Roman: We’ll see
Roman: 😏😏😏😏 If I keep it, it’s for my fans…not you, y'don’t deserve it
was no reason outside of pure, unfiltered laziness. Well, and busy
with the steady influx of job requests that kept the whole guild
busy. Still, she had made a terrible mistake.
Her lax attentions have left her with
one too-tight shirt, shorts that she had sworn she got rid of because
of their scandalousness, and a bra that was classified as seductive
lingerie. All of these she handled. It was the panties that posed the
The only pair of panties left for her
while she waited for the wash were black and lacy, not really out of
the ordinary for her. The problem was in the design of them…and the
battery operated pad that was stitched in along her cleft and down
between her folds.
Alas, her negligence had left her with
a single pair of vibrating panties until the washer and dryer
She was walking on glass, trying to
ignore the fact that she was indeed secretly wearing a sex toy around
the entire guild.
It wasn’t like she could do her own
laundry at her apartment. The landlady had claimed the machines first
and with mountains of clothes; Lucy had no time to wait. There was
only this day before the team left for a job tomorrow morning. She’d
have to wash, dry, fold, and put away all before the train pulled out
of the station.
The only other option was to brave the
embarrassment and wash an emergency load at the guild. At least she
could try and save face by acting normal. The key was to pretend she
wasn’t doing something scandalous.
“Hey Elfman! Have the new jobs been
posted?” she asked as casually as she could, approaching the
muscled man that was towering over the cork board.
The man glanced at her with a grin,
flashing a sheet of parchment that he had just ripped from the board.
“It has! Are you man enough for another round of work?” he
bellowed, letting her scan the request for a team to run off a flock
of bats that were terrorizing a town.
She grinned back, “Aye sir!”
He nodded in satisfaction before
turning away, pumping his fists as he went. “Alright! Let’s do this
Fairy Tail!” he cried out, the guild echoing cheers in unison.
Laughing, Lucy returned the cheer,
feeling that she gained some form of normality. That was, until a
light buzz of the vibrator to her cleft stole the breath from her
lungs, crippling her legs with pleasure. She crumpled down with a
heavy gasp, fingers gripping her thighs harshly.
‘Whoa! Are you okay, Lucy?!” Gray
yelped, leaping to her side from the table he sat at, hands hovering
carefully over her shoulders. Even Jet and Droy pressed forward in
concern, them being the second closest to her.
Aside from the suffocating horror that
her panties were probably malfunctioning, Lucy desperately grasped
for any lie to escape the truth. “I-I’m f-fine!” Her hands
struggled to even move from her legs and accept the help the men were
offering. “I t-think I tripped!”
She staggered up, smiling at the
concerned looks, “Seriously, it was an accident! I’m fine!”
*casually drops in after a week’s absence with surprise fic*
So I didn’t think I would ever write the beginning of Vader’s double agent career, but marajadesbutt sent me an ask about what Anakin’s initial motivation for turning double agent was, and to my surprise, fic happened.
I pondered a lot of different ways all of this could have started, but ultimately, Anakin rebuilds himself in the image of the survival narratives of Tatooine slavery. So it seemed fitting that everything should begin with a story.
(Also ftr I’m going with the idea that Palpatine actually drained Padmé’s life force to keep Anakin alive, since imo that makes the most sense of how Palpatine knows that she’s dead at all.)
His Master liked to say that Vader was born in fire on Mustafar. But Ekkreth was born in the desert.
Tatooine hadn’t changed.
The suns still blazed, and the heat still beat down, and the sand still got everywhere. That last, especially, was true. Vader could feel it grinding against his metal bones.
He didn’t feel the heat anymore, not within this climate controlled life support suit. And he didn’t feel the burning of the suns, either, or need to shield his eyes against the light or his skin against the biting wind. But he still felt the sand. That would never change.