Pairing: Ron Weasley x fem!reader
Summary: You're trying to finish an essay when Ron comes in and bugs you.
Read on AO3 (account needed)
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Ron was restless. He kept tossing and turning in his bed, unable to close his eyes for too long. After some time of this, he decided to read his copy of the Chudley Cannons for the hundredth time.
Searching for it, he suddenly remembered he left it in the common room. Ron headed downstairs and reaching the bottom step, he recognized you. Your head was bent down, close to the parchment that you were furiously scribbling on.
"What are you doing up so late?" He asked.
You snapped your head up to look at Ron in the dim light. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm finishing an essay on Hellebores for Herbology," You replied, a bit irritability.
"At," Ron checked his watch. "Four o'clock in the morning?"
"Yes, Ronald. I assumed at this time, I wouldn't be disturbed," You huffed, staring pointedly at him. Surprised, Ron widened his eyes. You were clearly not in a good mood.
He sat down on the couch near the desk and said, "Alright then, just asking. But you do know that there's a quidditch game tomorrow, don't you?"
Through gritted teeth, you replied, "I'm well aware of that."
"And won't you need to get some sleep then since you're a chaser?"
You set down the quill and glared at the ginger, "I'll be fine Ron. Why don't you get some sleep," you jabbed a finger at him? "Since you're the keeper."
"Okay, no need to get grumpy," he held his hands up. "I'm only asking."
Without saying anything else Ron began to make his way to the stairs but stop when he heard your voice. "Ron... I'm sorry I snapped you, " Your shoulders sagged as you continued, "I've been up half the night working. It was sideways anger. I'm sorry."
Smiling, Ron turned back to you and said, " It's okay, I understand." He sat down again, saying, "Does this mean you'll get some rest now?"
"Nope. I have to finish this by tonight and hopefully get it done in the next hour."
Ron shrugged his shoulders to your stubborn response, determined he wouldn't leave you alone. " Guess I'll stay here for some moral support."
With that he sat on the couch and began reading Flying with the Cannons. Grateful for his presence, you smiled completing your essay with Ron, book tossed aside and snoring on the couch.
Make your own era-accurate Star Trek episode title cards in seconds. Boldly go!
The sitemaker (Josh Mayfield at https://bsky.app/profile/bean525.bsky.social) has asked for people to come in and kick its tires so he can work out any bugs they turn up. So do give him a hand, if you feel inclined. :)
Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader
Summary: You failed to meet up with Harry to play Quidditch and he starts to worry.
Read in AO3 (account needed)
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Harry walked into the great hall and searched for you. With a quick scan, he realized you weren't there. He sat down next to Ron and Hermione and asked, "Do you know where Y/N is? She's usually down here by now."
"Sorry mate, haven't seeb hegdf," Ron replied. The last part was garbled as Ron had eaten a chunk of sausage at the moment.
"Hermione, have you?"
Hermione looked up from the History of Magic and said, "No Harry. Maybe she decided to sleep in this Saturday.
Harry looked a tad deflated. "But we were going to practice quidditch this morning."
After a quick breakfast, Harry spent some time waiting there while his two other friends left. When it became apparent that you weren't coming anytime soon, he started for Gryffindor common room.
The portrait swung open and going in, Harry saw you. You were sitting at one of the desks in the far corner of the room with your back behind him. Harry walked behind you and asked, "There you are. Why weren't you at breakfast?"
You didn't respond, nor turned around.
"Y/N?" He put his hand on your shoulder and peered into your face. You didn't look well. Your hair was a mess, and they were dark bags under your eyes. "Y/N," cried Harry, startled at your appearance. "Are you all, right?"
You looked back at him with drooping eyes. "Oh, hey Harry... I'm doing fine... just a bit tired," and with that you bonked your head on the desk.
Harry's eyes crossed to the desk to see it littered with schoolwork. There were sheets of parchment out with your handwriting on them, a half-finished sketch of a bowtruckle, and many textbooks lying about either open or closed.
He sat down and shook your shoulder, lightly. "Y/N?"
"Yeah Harry?" You raised your head briefly, then rested it on his own shoulder.
"Did you get any sleep last?"
Without looking up you replied, "Umm... yeah, some sleep."
Harry lifted your head to his own and opened your eyes with his thumb and index fingers. "How much sleep exactly?"
Taking your time to answer, you mumbled, "Hmmm... twenty minutes?"
"Twenty minutes!" Harry yelled, surprised.
"What?" You looked surprised as well, wondering what was wrong.
"Only twenty minutes!"
"That's what I said," You answered, getting annoyed with him. "I've been getting behind on my homework, so I've had to pull some all-nighters for the past three nights."
Harry jumped in his seat and shouted, "Three nights! It's been three nights since you've slept!"
"Well, not really..." You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "I've grabbed a nap here and there between classes and lunches." You slumped in the chair. Harry sighed. Irritated, he massaged his temples and stared at you in disbelief.
A part of him felt bad that he hadn't noticed before. You hadn't appeared for lunch the past few days and he didn't question it. Nor did he notice the tired aroma surrounding you. He stood up and scooped you up in his arms.
"Will you take to my room, Harry?"
"Uh, I would but I physically can't," he remembered the time Ron tried and the result was an alarm going off and the stairs turning into a slide.
"Take me to your dormitory then please," you mumbled, nestling your head on Harry's chest.
"Okay," Harry repositioned you in his arms, grabbed Quidditch through the Ages, and walked up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Thankfully it was empty. He laid you down on his bed and covered you in a blanket.
Immediately, you snuggled into the soft pillow and warm blanket. Harry smiled, lied down next to you, and opened the book. Together, on his bed, you rested and relaxed in each other’s company.
For Kinktober, would you consider Knife Play for Snow White? The way I envision it is the reader is threatened by Regina, and Snow uses a knife to protect the reader. Seems like an effective way for Snow to show off her badass bandit skills (and maybe give Regina a bloody comeuppance).
I love this set so much, great idea!! If Snow has the knife, she sure as heck needs to show them off! And the fact that regina gets roughed up in the process is the cherry on top.
Hello! I love your fics and I'm always excited when I've seen you've posted a new work and I was over the moon when I saw you'd reopened your requests.
I come before you humbly to ask for an Ar'alani x fem!reader fic where Ar'alani is really stressed after the day's events and reader (her long-time partner) offers to make to her feel better and she basically eats Ar'alani out. Pretty please! There's so little content for my beloved Ar'alani>﹏<
Thank you, dear 💓Smutty Ar'alaniiiii 🎶 First time writing sapphic smut, I hope it's good!
Ar'alani x F!reader
Tags: Smut, cunni, established relationship, Ar'alani pillow princess for once, short and sweet
"You're coming to bed, Ch'acah?" You ask, scrubbing your hair dry with your small towel.
As you receive no response from Ar'alani in the living room, you quickly put on your pyjamas and exit the bathroom. You find her weary and dead silent, slouching on your couch with her boots and uniform still on, indicating a level of distress unheard of from her.
You have no problem with her staying in her uniform while on her leave, but you both always hated shoes inside the home and especially on the couch. You sit down next to her, taking her hand in yours to caress it with your thumb.
"You okay, darling?"
She sighs, her hand pressed on her eyes, lying there, inert.
"Ar'alani?"
"…Yes." She finally speaks, her voice empty of all emotions, sounding ghostly.
"Is it… About Officer Thrawn's trial?" You ask again.
You are a mere civilian, never around any kind of military people or infrastructures, but Ar'alani made it a point of honour for you to meet her colleagues and friends. During informal caccoleaf rendezvous or during military galas, allowing partners.
You met Mitth'raw'nuruodo, her cadet in ranks and age, but she insisted he was here to meet you as her friend. You… Liked him? He was a bit… Weird around the edges, but overall non-dangerous and intelligent, and he had the courtesy to remember your favourite drink the next time you met all 3 together.
He was on his way to become one of your own frie… Pals. To become one of your pals. But something happened. Something a civilian such as you had no business learning about, and Ar'alani did not spill anything to you. You learned in an article that an anonymous Mitth Officer would be brought on trial for undisclosed reasons to the Press, and you asked her if it was about her friend.
She did not respond. Only lowered her eyes as she was closing her white jacket and promptly left for a new shift.
It was enough for you to know.
And now, 1 week later, she is still affected. Understandably. You know she doesn't let a single emotion out in public, but in private, with only you, she sighs all day long. Tired. Demotivated.
She takes a deep breath and sits down properly.
"Yes. But we shall not speak of that."
"Do you want a drink, or a dessert, or some chocolate?"
She snorts, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.
"No need, dear. Let's go to bed."
______________________________________
This night again, Ar'alani twisted and turned under the cover next to you, standing up to go grab a glass of water, then returned, sighed as she tried to sleep but failed, and again, and again and again…
You turn toward her and circle her waist with your arms, pulling her in a hug, her large back pressed against your breast.
"You're not sleeping." She says.
"You're not helping."
"I know… I know the rule is to leave our work stories at the door, but…"
"It's okay, love." You stop her, "We are only chiss. Not super beings…. I wish you could talk to me about it and alleviate your worries."
"Me too. And in the meantime, I'm not present for you, or giving you attention, I'm sorry. Do you want to go to the gym together tomorrow?"
"Sure, if we can go eat a dessert after!"
"Okay." She snorts, "I think I'll watch a holo for a bit. Sleep well, I-" She stops her sentence and her movement as you grab her arm.
"Stay." You demand, "Stay with me. I barely see you…"
"I know…" She sighs again, lying back to hug you too, "We are always so far away from each other."
"I miss you for months on end." You complain.
"Me too, love…"
"I want affection, but you're always away." You snuggle in her embrace, placing your head on her chest.
She caresses your back and hair silently, letting you listen to her heartbeat. You press your cheek down her breast, her musc titillating your nose deliciously.
Teasingly.
Maybe she wants affection too, but she never, if rarely, vocalises her desires. Force of habits.
Unnaceptable.
You peck her clavicle and start kissing your way down her stomach.
"(Y/n)?" She chuckles at the butterfly touch of your lips, "What are you doing, darling?"
"Shhhhh, Ch'acah. Let me take care of you. You are tired, empty your head and let me do the work tonight…" You whisper and promise in the same breath.
You reach the hem of her shorts, and you press your lips to her Venus mound, tenderly kissing it, brushing your cheek against that delightful little pouch made of love. You grab the shorts'hem and let it slap her flesh playfully, making her jump with a slight mewl of surprise and… Anticipation.
"What got over you, suddenly?" She asks, her breath deepening by the second.
"What?" You hook your fingers in the fabric and pull her shorts down, "Am I not allowed to take care of my wife when she is feeling down?"
"You are always welcome to…" She retorts, her fingers digging in the sheets, "But I thought you-"
"Shush. We are taking care of you right now. Relax…"
You caress her waist, right above her panties. A soft touch, just the finger pads, barely a feather's brush.
But the effect is immediate.
"Do… Do not tease me like that, please." She gasps with her deep voice, heavy with a growing desire.
"Okay." You smile at her in the dark.
You grab the panties and pull them down too, joining the now discarded shorts, lost somewhere in a corner of the marital bedroom. You slide your hands between her closed thighs to open them, kneading the meat of her thighs with pleasure.
You kiss her inner left thigh gently.
Sensually.
Wickedly.
Just as she always loved.
You keep them wide open as you focus on her vulnerable and exposed pussy.
All for you to feast on.
To devour and to leave no crumbs and no drops.
You toy with her a bit, blowing on her outer lips, feeling her thigh muscles contract in your hands, and hearing her take deep breaths as she adjusts in a comfortable position in the bed.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
No fuss.
No false modesty.
No shame.
Just a clear response.
It's all that you need.
You press your greedy lips to her pussy and start working her up. You lick her outer lips nice and good, lathering them with your saliva, marking her with your smell for any competition she might meet.
This woman is yours. And rivals need to know they are fighting a lost battle.
You keep making out with her pussylips lasciviously as she undulates her spine on the mattress, feeling her trying to cage your head between her thighs. You keep them open, but by the Warrior, she has strength in those. She doesn't skip leg days, and you are far behind for your arm days!
This lean body is for you only to enjoy and to please till sun's birth… You are blessed among the blessed of the Warrior.
You mewl and groan, your lips sealed to her cunt, your flexible tongue travelling her flesh and crevices to your heart's content, tasting her like you would taste fresh water in a desert. You part her pussylips and locate her clit, which you hasten to. You whip it and drum it with the tip of your wet limb, helping her sing delicious melodies and songs only for your ears and pleasure.
You unconsciously press your thighs together, putting pressure on your own awakening pussy, titillated by her high, lewd notes, and her pearling on your tongue.
You dig your nails in her thighs as you circle her bundle of nerves, tapping it lightly, then making it roll between your teeth. She gasps and moans and pleads for more, her fingers curling around your locks, keeping your head between her legs, dripping in your mouth. You drink it up, you drink it all, leaving not a drop to go to waste.
That would be sacrilegious.
As you love her like a religion.
And she loves you like a devotee.
Soon, she undulates her hips against your lips, grinding her pussy against your mouth with the most obscene and delightful sounds. She rides you like a Queen, like a true Chiss Warrior, taking all that she wants and leaving you tired and panting, and blissed out.
She usually takes the lead in your bed, but sometimes, you enjoy doing it for her. To give is also to receive in return. Work carries the fruits of its own reward, or whatever they might say, and you are happy with that.
Your jaw is getting sore, but you endure through it. Right now, you focus on Ar'alani, not your poor excuse of a bone structure. To help forget the pain, you imagine how she will sound when she'll cum, how her thighs will cage your head, preventing you from breathing. Would it not be to die for?
Yes. Yes, it would.
You lap and lick her wetness away, suckling in her rosebud and doting on her pussylips. You can feel her powerful muscles tensing and contracting around your head and in your hands, the thin veil of sweat on her deep blue skin, her breath short and hasty.
She rarely pours her pleasure out with words, but the faintest of her gasp is worth more than any speech. You just enjoy her wails and moans as they come, and when you do really well, she can't help but shout your name out, to your neighbours' misery.
"I-I'm so… Close. Don't stop, Ch'acah…" She pants, her voice halted by the pleasure.
You know she is close, she is literally dripping in your voracious mouth, and her muscles contract rapidly, signs of a fast-approaching orgasm.
So you give her your all and accelerate despite the pain in your jaw.
And soon, she cums in your mouth. She slams her thighs shut around your skull, forcing your head against her slit, arching her back like it was about to snap, with a silent scream, mouth wide open and eyes closed shut.
You cannot breathe, but what bliss it is to be here, with her.
She squirts on your tongue with pitiful yelps, and you happily lick her clean, accompanying her in her descent from the Warrior's sky domain.
And soon, too soon, her body relaxes, releasing you from her legs' embrace as she takes her breath back, slouching on the mattress, her long, silky hair spread all around like a blooming black flower.
You stand on your elbow, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, licking the rest with your tongue.
You both remain silent, listening to her quick breath returning to normal, until you take the floor.
"Still not sleepy?" You tease.
"Idiot." She snorts, rising up to grab you and pull you in bear hug, "Come here, you mocking bird."
You chuckle together, feeding off the warmth of each other's bodies, embracing tightly.
She starts purring, her nose buried in your hair, enjoying your scent after a long day.
"What should I do about you, heh? You are mocking an Officer of the CDEF." She gently bites your earlobe.
"I don't know… Keep me like a trophy wife for your years of service?"
"I'd need millennia of services to be worthy of such a trophy."
"It's your luck, I'm at a discount just for beautiful, cunning female CDEF Admirals!" You keep playing, circling her waist with your legs.
"I am lucky indeed…"
And she captures your lips for a tender yet ravaging kiss, only she has the secret of, while her hand sneaks along your stomach until she slides it into your panties.
"Did you intend to speak on it, or go to sleep aching and wet?" She demands, biting your lower lip.
"Is there a good answer, Admiral?" You playfully pout.
"Obviously, Miss, and I hope you will answer correctly, or I'd have to… Spank some senses into you…" She devilishly grins, her red eyes glowing with all the promises of Csilla.
it’s more the reader (preferably female) that has the kink & just really enjoys watching newt take care of his animals because responsibility and being caring is HOT!
Pairing Julian Bashir x fem!reader, Rao Vantika x fem!reader
Summary Julian Bashir makes an excellent host for Rao Vantika during his brief stay on Deep Space Nine and he plans to use every advantage that this body has to offer.
So, when a woman, believing him to be Bashir, makes advances towards Rao, why shouldn’t he take advantage of it? It’s not like that fool of a doctor will ever face the consequences of Rao’s decision.
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A/N This takes place during and a little after Season 1 Episode 9: The Passenger.
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Read on AO3
Rao Vantika strode through the dimly lit hallway of the Deep Space 9 space station at a brisk yet composed walk; certainly not the way an adult human male might walk if he had just thrown the Kobliad Security officer, Ty Kajada, off a third story balcony. Rao had been on the run for long enough to know when to blend in with the crowd and when to make a mad dash.
Of course, blending in was the best option given he was currently inhabiting the body of chief medical officer, Julian Bashir. It would take those Starfleet fools ages to figure out his genius methods of using a biocoded message imprinted onto glial cells to transfer his consciousness to Bashir's brain. By the time they did—if ever—he would be long gone with a whole ship full of deuridium.
Rao licked his lips in anticipation; the taste of victory was sweet, more so since he’d permanently incapacitated Kajada. She’d been a thorn in his side for twenty years, but not any longer. In less than a day, he’d be on his way to Klaestron IV where a nice, isolated lab was ripe for the taking. Surely, all that magnificent Klaestron equipment would be put to better use in his capable—
“Hello, Dr. Bashir. It’s a little late for a starlit walk, don’t you think?” Rao stopped in his tracks, turning slowly around to face the speaker. Hidden in a shadowy alcove was a person. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out this late.”
The voice was female, perhaps human or at least humanoid. Was this woman intimately acquainted with Doctor Bashir? To give control over to the human would only exacerbate matters.
He forced an explanation out; the words curling unfamiliarly around the thick, flabby human tongue. “No—it is not—too late. I have—bus-in-ess—on this lev-el.”
She released her breath in a low uneven manner, which passed for laughing in humans, he recalled. “Careful. With a suspicious answer like that, someone might think you’re up to no good.” She stepped forward, allowing him to see her better. She wore a Starfleet jumpsuit with a gold top, paired with a lazy smile and narrowed eyes.
He bit back sneer. Why did people have to be so nosy? There always seemed to be an annoyance who wanted to pry his secrets from him. And seldom was it simple inquisitiveness, not in his precarious circumstances.
With a shrug of the shoulder, he inched forward pretending to be indifferent to her accusation. If the conversation went sideways, he wanted to be within arms reach to strangle her and toss the body out the nearest airlock.
“Then again, I’m not gonna begrudge you keeping secrets. Not if you’d like to keep another one.” With surprising ease, she slipped around him and cornered him into the alcove where she’d been moments prior.
He permitted this maneuver, curious to know what her intentions were. He detected a sultry edge in her voice, and her eyes were hungry as she held his gaze. “Would that be amenable to you, doctor?”
Rao released a breath, deciding what was best to say. Surely the smart thing to do was rebuff the woman this instant and continue on his way to the infirmary and relinquish control to Bashir so as to avoid suspicion.
No doubt Kajada’s body would be found soon by that sniveling Ferengi, and the dear doctor would be called to perform an autopsy. When she traced her fingertips along his jaw, the subtle scent of her perfume wafting over him, Rao made his decision.
For too long had he denied himself the pleasures of the flesh in pursuit of his scientific goals. A quick tryst with a delicious female wouldn’t harm any of his plans. Rao gripped her shoulders and captured her lips with his own. He felt her gasp at his sudden force but paid it no mind. She’d wanted his attention and now she had it. Completely. It was too late to back out.
He wrapped one hand around her waist and the other trailed down to squeeze her breast, firm yet soft and much too covered by the stiff uniform for his liking. She smiled beneath his lips and shoved him hard against the wall. Rao was not used to this particular treatment from females but couldn’t lie and say that he was not intrigued by it.
Her hands wandered leisurely over his body—it was Rao’s body now, not Bashir’s—taking their time to map every inch before descending further down to his groin and the prominent bulge that lay there. The resulting heat flushed through his system, extinguishing what little sense there was left in him.
Rao wondered if this woman regularly stalked the station’s corridors for men to seduce. If so, then the doctor was a fool to have never taken advantage of her yet. He would not make the same mistake. A public hallway wasn’t an ideal place to engage in sexual activities, though it did add to the excitement that at any moment they could be caught.
How he might deal with that situation unfolding without letting his host become aware of it would be difficult, but the growing friction between his legs made it harder and harder to concentrate on such trivial things. Becoming impatient with the layers of clothing between them, he searched for the zipper or clasp that would undo her uniform.
Blast it! Where could it be!
A small chirp interrupted their quiet groans and a voice sounded from the badge on his chest. “Cohen to Bashir.”
Rao drew back just enough to tap his combadge and respond, “Bashir here.” He’d barely said the words when the woman once more connected her mouth to his.
“Dr. Bashir, an emergency has occurred. A person’s just been found after falling from a balcony at Quarks. Serious injuries sustained. We’re transporting her to the infirmary.” Rao let out another groan, quite different from his previous ones. So, Kajada wasn’t dead. No matter, he’d find some other way to silence her for good.
In the meantime, he had to scrounge up as much willpower as he could to disengage himself from this alluring female. It wasn’t too tough; Rao hadn’t gone as far as he did in life by succumbing to every whim and fancy that struck him.
Nevertheless, it was with some regret that he finally pulled away. She followed him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “Ugh, great timing,” she mumbled. She glanced at him, her eyes burning into his, begging him not to leave. Her teeth dragged across her bottom lip and she asked, “Care to continue this later?”
Rao gripped her chin, weighing the pros and cons of killing her. She might become a loose end and it’d be better to snip it sooner rather than later before it became a problem. Although people might start asking questions about her disappearance; there was the slim chance that it’d lead straight back to him. The voice sounded again, urging Bashir to hurry.
There was no time to murder her. Besides, this trollop was not important enough to dispatch. Rao enveloped her in one last long kiss, then muttered, “See me—at your—dis-cre-tion.”
Perhaps, they could finish what they’d begun before he left the station. Pushing her aside, he straightened his rumpled uniform and alerted the infirmary of his—or rather Bashir’s—imminent arrival.
୭ ˚.
Julian stood silent and still in the empty infirmary. Sisko, Dax, and the others had left a few minutes ago to attend to their duties, relieved that the trouble with Rao Vantika was over. It was over and done with, so there was no use in dwelling on the incident any longer. At least that’s what Julian told himself as he stared at the blank monitor screen.
Running his hands through his already mussed up hair, he let out a shaky breath. Kajada had said that Vantika’s actions weren't Julian’s fault and he could see her point of view to a certain extent.
In theory it made sense. He did not know Rao was in possession of his body, therefore, he was a victim as much as everyone else. But he should’ve known. Somehow, someway. What troubled him the most was how powerless he’d been.
Some doctor he was!
What ached more than the throbbing in his head was the humiliation; it hurt worse than a mehax wasp’s stinger. To be brought down to such a level by a mad scientist was a shame almost too great to bear. But bear it he would because that was what a Starfleet doctor ought to do in trying times.
If only Julian could convince himself of that. He grabbed his PADD, checking what appointments he had scheduled for the rest of the day. Sulking never did anyone any good and Julian would be damned if he allowed himself to wallow in his failure for even one more minute.
The faint pitter-patter of footsteps was the only warning he received before a body hurled itself at him at what felt like maximum speed. For one heart-wrenching second Julian was afraid it was Rao Vantika miraculously alive, determined to exact his revenge for his near death.
Then he felt arms wrapped around his neck, not in a murderous strangler’s grip, but in a passionate embrace—how a person might hold a lover. A mouth attached to his lips in an impatient kiss. Julian—normally quite receptive to all forms of affection—was too stunned to return it.
Though this didn’t seem to bother the woman kissing him. She carried on as if they were standing in front of an altar, vows said and rings exchanged! She broke off with an almost audible pop! and said in a rush, “Oh, Julian, I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner but my shift ran late. Stupid pylons kept breaking.”
She pecked him on the cheek, snuggling closer to him. Julian felt the spot where she kissed him and looked down to see lipstick smudging his fingers. “Whoops, I guess I got some on you. How about that? Doesn’t look too bad on you though.”
Julian was used to women often launching themselves at him. After all who could blame them with his dashing good looks, charming personality, and captivating intelligence and wit. But it had never been this literal! Yet this unknown woman was hanging off him as if they’d been lifelong lovers. He asked, “Who are you?”
Her smile faded and the joy in the eyes dimmed somewhat. Her grip slacked as she replied, “Don’t you remember? That night in the corridor? You told me to meet you again at my convenience so we could continue our little rendezvous…”
Dammit.
Last night Vantika had taken control of his body, manipulating it like a hapless doll. Apparently, pushing Kajada off a balcony hadn’t been the only thing the criminal scientist had accomplished. That lunatic had taken advantage of a darling young woman, believing him to be the real chief medical officer and then . . . and then exactly what he didn’t know.
Oh curse that Kobliad! He was dead and he was still causing troubles for Julian. What he needed to do was explain to this stranger that who she met in that corridor wasn’t actually Julian but an alien who used an ingenious method to implant his consciousness into his body, taking over only at select times.
She edged closer to him; her breath was sweet, acting as a soothing balm for his bruised ego. “Julian, is something wrong?”
Julian had a thought. What if he looked at this opportunity as a parting gift from the unwitting Rao Vantika, a boon of sorts for all the headaches he had caused. Yes . . . maybe a nice pick me up was exactly what Julian needed right now. And this lovely, fresh-faced woman in his arms seemed eager to give it.
He cupped her cheek, drawing her in, nuzzling his nose across the tantalizing skin of her neck. Pressing feather-light kisses to it, he whispered, “No, no. However, I might require my memory to be refreshed. If you’re willing and able to, of course.”
She let out a small moan at his tender ministrations and sighed, “It’d be my pleasure, Julian.”
Do any of you lovely chuds have reccomendations for luke/reader fics on other websoites since there are only a handful of star wars gooners on this hellsite, thank you.
Some authors to definitely check out are Hostiles_on_the_hill, @lavandula-ipsum, @silkendress, @sonofthedunes, @eleonoraalbright, @lex-the-flex, and @pomplalamoose
@dailydragon08 also has a luke/jedi reader series that I really like!
There are more authors and fics that I love but I’m very tired and can’t think of them all right now. So if I forgot about you I am sorry!
hi!! are you still taking kinktober requests? if so, i'd love to see breast play with kurt wagner... him wanting to touch with his hands, his dick, his tail, his mouth and such
YES, I'm still taking kinktober request! Until every last one is filled!
YAY a Kurt request!! I'll most happily write this! Tysm <3
Happy New Year, I hope it’s going wonderfully for you so far!
I have a question. We all know how Luke canonically loves hot chocolate, so I was wondering if you could write some headcanons of him reacting to the reader making this recipe for his favorite drink.
1. Put tiny marshmallow in the cup first (so you can fit 40 or 50)
2. Pour the hot chocolate so it just fills in the cracks
3. Use syrup instead of milk
4. Eat with fork
How would Luke react? Horrified? Excited? Nonplussed? Idk that’s why I’m asking
(The recipe is from an old Calvin and Hobbes comic btw)
So sorry for the very vey late reply!
I think he'd be open to trying it, for sure. Whether or not he'd like it is the real question. It really depends on how big of a sweet tooth he's got. I personally headcanon him as having like a mid-tier sweet tooth, whatever that means.
He's from Tatooine, and I don't really see that planet as having the luxury of a variety of desserts. It seems like life on that planet is very much survival and necessity-focused. Any dessert-like food or drink is likely hoarded by Jabba and his gang.
So I think that the first time luke has something really sweet, like hot chocolate, he's instantly hooked. But, he's got a limit. I don't think he'd be used to sugary food/drink, so things that are too sweet probably aren't for him.
This recipe is like 90% sugar and I honestly think it'd be too much for me! If it's too much for me (an American raised on high fructose corn syrup 🦅🦅🦅 *eagle noise that suspiciously sounds like that of a red tailed hawk* 🦅🦅🦅) I think it'd definitely be too sweet for him.
He might enjoy the first couple of bites, but that'd be about all he would want to eat. He's going to be very polite about it and thank you for letting him try it, but he's going to be honest and tell you that it's not for him. He would then go drink the remaining hot chocolate that wasn't used for the recipe, and he'd make sure to compliment you on it (he thinks you make it the best hot chocolate).