#all i can say is the grind never stops and i always strive to get better

[queen0fm0nsterz]

I saw you post about Seafarers, but to me, your finest work will always be Fifteen Notes to You, reread all of it the other day and... yeah, it still hits like a fucking bullet train.

I genuinely don't think it's possible to capture Mono's descent into insanity better than you did here. It reminds me a little of The Last Weekend from the anthology Inside no.9, in that, you know, both from the story itself and the context it exists in, that it won't have a happy ending, but the humanization of the characters just forces you to cling to hope that something will go right. But that rarely, if ever, happens in The Nowhere.

FNTY... Now THAT'S a name I haven't heard in years...

Thank you so much!!!! I'm super grateful to see folks still enjoy my old stories :)it seems to be the general consensus even among my friends that FNTY is the best complete fic I've put out. Reading thru the comments, I remember one of a person who told me that it made them cry - and the comment made ME cry LMAOOOOOOO😭

I'm very proud of it myself as it was not only my first published fic, but my first multichaptered fic I ever completed as well. Though I am a slow writer (SEAFARERS CHAPTER 5 IS IN THE WORKS😭), for FNTY it was never because I had excessive trouble figuring out what to put on paper - especially never when in regards to the letters themselves. The most troubling parts were the in betweens, funnily enough.

Mono and Thin Man come very naturally to me when writing. I think it may be because I tend to interpret them as having very big feelings... like myself, I guess. And since the story itself is short, I suppose that I managed to make the thing itself feel like there are many big feelings in a tiny box. I will admit I got emotional myself a couple of times... then went on to edit like nothing was wrong LMAOOOO like this is how I looked writing and then editing vvv

For Seafarers, the emotional payoff has yet to come, and it will be different -- considering we have World's Most Emotionally Constipated Woman and Our Strongest Soldier (the PTSD has yet to hit because she's still actively experiencing the horrors) as the protagonists this time.

Six and the Lady are both considerably harder to write for me. I had my chance to write the Big Feeler at the very beginning because the stakes there were skyrocketing from the getgo, but now things have gotten considerably more... silent. The feelings are there but they're all kept in. OUGHHHHHHHHH

I also can't wait to introduce more stuff; I've been writing down concepts for shadow magic and powers, how the Maw works, the various things the Lady of the Maw has to look after to keep it afloat... and the Ladies. Look, I'll say that I'm really happy with what I'm doing with Teapot and Rascal. And with Teapot in general. I really like the characterization I pulled out of my ass LMAOOOOOO and the DESIGN... ok so I'm willing to share a couple of the Teapot's I've doodled

(She's genuinely very silly [read: sick in the head]... i gave all the Ladies some nice additional details because. Ik the point is that they all look very similar but I love designing outfits fuck it this is MY au i do what I want)

So right now I have a suspicion that Seafarers will hit better when it's finished and can be read from beginning to end. Since it's longer (I plan it to be... around 15 chapters? A bit longer if the events require it to be.), there will be more time to let the stuff brew until it reaches its climax as intended.

[venomwrites]

Caitvi having a double date with Timebomb

“The fuck, Ekko?! You painted each other?!”

It’s a surprise when Vi finally staggers back from Piltover’s polished halls. She sure as fuck isn’t supposed to. It’s not part of the plan. Of course Vi doesn’t know there’s a plan. She staggers down all the same. Instead of the broken, screaming woman sliding off the ledge she is the Vi that has appeared throughout Ekko’s life. Brash and loud and a pain in the ass. But she’s alive in this world and that fucking means something. He’s not sure what in the cosmic sense. But when she kicks open the door, he’s pretty sure right now it means she’s about to kick his ass. 

“That’s a weird way to say hello,” he spits back. 

“You painted my sister!” She accuses. 

He’s fucking tired. Sleep is never enough, everything feels sluggish. He doesn’t know if it’s grief or if he managed to fix time and break himself in the process. Ekko’s used to building things from ruins. But it takes time. Right now it’s just frustrating as hell. He’s seen what the world can be, he’s got something to strive for. But that goal feels like when he was a kid and he’d look up at the tall buildings. He can strive for it all he fucking wants. There’s a good chance he’s never going to get it. He’s always cared about possibilities. Even if the odds are against him, there’s still a chance. Now though he knows what is out there. What’s out there and what’s missing here. That is the bitterest pill to swallow for some fucked up reason. 

Also his earlobes hurt. 

“You’re not here about the paint,” he says. 

“Yeah I am,” Vi snaps, “what the fuck? She’s a kid!”

Ekko grinds his teeth. He does not want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to deal with Vi’s protective bullshit. Not when he’s spent all this time listening to Jinx talk about how Vi needs to be up there. Ekko half wanted a sibling most of his life, but the way the pair of them are with each other makes him glad he never had one. 

“No, Vi, she’s not!” He erupts finally, “none of us are! When are you gonna see that?!”

Vi stands still. She’s pissed but Ekko knows she needs to hear it. Someone has to tell her. Tell her in a way that gets through her thick skull so they can all start to heal. He’s not an idiot, he knows how Jinx is without her sister. Both of their plans are stupid. They always have been. That’s why one winds up in jail and one winds up in hell. And then they just fucking switch places, cry about it and switch again. Ekko is tired of listening to stupid ideas. 

Vi is suddenly in his face. Still with that miserable look on her eyes. She reaches out slowly and bats away his hand when he tries to stop her. She pinches the corner of his ear between her thumb and her forefinger. Gently but it’s enough to make him hiss. 

“Geez Ekko, this is infected,” she says. Ekko wants to yell at her, “you do this yourself?”

“No.”

“Seriously? Your ear?” She peers around his head, “both of them? When did you two have the time?”

“I don’t know, how long does it take you to fuck your girlfriend?” He questions. 

Vi glares but doesn’t drop his ear. She shoves her hands into her pockets and pulls out a little bottle. The clear gel she swipes around the fresh earrings make his ears sting but it’s also nice and cool. She huffs again and turns to do the other one. 

“I was in prison and managed to keep mine not infected,” she mutters. 

“Yeah? How’d you manage that?”

“Salt packs,” she says. 

She hands him the bottle. Some nice Piltie thing filled with the clear gel. Ekko wants to smack her hand away but he recognizes the peace offering for what it is. It feels like he’s back in the peaceful version of the world for a moment. Where the divides between the cities aren’t that great. He realizes abruptly that in this world Vi has actually managed to bring some of that here. She crossed that divide without even thinking. Right out of prison, back when they were all too stupid to see what was going on. 

Ekko knows it’s because she didn’t do it alone. 

“How’s the Piltie?” He asks.

“Better,” Vi says evasively. Ekko rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come here to talk abut her!” He just keeps staring at Vi, “I don’t know!” Vi says throwing up her hands. She drags her hand through her hair. Her bad arm moves seamlessly. Another Piltover souvenir, “she’s talking about giving up her council seat. She’s barely eating. All those fucking fancy Piltie doctors do is try to get her to talk. She doesn’t like talking about her feelings.”

Ekko sighs.

This is part of being a leader. 

“Sounds like she needs you,” he says cutting through Vi’s bullshit, “up there.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Vi says.

“So don’t talk,” Ekko suggests, “seriously she kicked you out and your solution was to come all the way down here? Go back there and—“ he hesitates a moment, “just sit with her until she does.”

Vi sighs, shoves her hands into her pockets and rocks back on her heels. For a moment Ekko feels like a kid caught doing something wrong. Even though he hasn’t and Vi’s already yelled at him for what she suspects. It’s not about the paint or the earrings. It’s about Jinx. Jinx let him touch her when she wouldn’t let Vi touch her. Ekko knows Vi hates that. He feels weird about it when he thinks on it too long. Not because of Vi—or not only because of Vi. It’s all their history together. But he said what happened, what he saw. And Jinx believed him way more readily than he would have believed her. It’s weird and knotted and not something he wants to think about too hard. 

“Sit with her until she does,” Vi repeats. 

“Yeah,” he says, “it’s fair—“

There’s a snap around his wrist. 

Piltie cuffs. 

The other locks around Vi’s own wrist.

“The fuck?”

“Sorry, little man,” Vi says, the nickname slipping out, “I’m not going back alone.”

“So you handcuff me?!”

“Handcuff us,” she says, dangling her wrist up, “maybe one day we can walk together normally,” Ekko reaches for his key but only hits the skin that shows above his pants, “next time maybe get a full shirt.”

“Shut up!”

Vi drags him up and away. Ekko plans his escape. He hates walking. Hates walking the Lanes most of all. It reminds him of his failures and the past. When he flies he can leave it all down here. Up there none of it can catch him. Now he drags through the muck. What catches him off guard is the newness he sees popping up. New cans of paint, fresh tarps, resources. Vi catches his stunned gaze and offers a grin as they make their way past. Ekko nearly falls flat on his face trying to get a good look. He wants to drink it all in. But Vi is determined. She drags him up past where the buildings nicer and into a private box. 

“We should have taken my board,” he grumbles as it pulls them higher. 

“I wasn’t letting you anywhere near that thing.” 

He scoffs. 

Hesitates. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to know. Maybe that makes him weak. But what’s the right way to ask what version of someone is awake? It doesn’t really matter. After what he did Jinx and Powder both probably want him dead. He messed up the plan. Instead of flying her out of here like he was supposed to he was unconscious. She sailed out of that air duct with no-one to catch her. He let her down again. He could have gone with her, maybe he should have. But all he could think when he saw her being carted off by fancy doctors with Vi’s hand tight in hers was that maybe she too had a chance at getting away. He’d messed up her trust enough. Something must show in his face. 

“She started talking to Isha two nights ago,” Vi says. 

“Two nights?!” He demands. 

“I’ve been trying to find you!” Vi snaps, holding up her wrist again.

“Why didn’t you start with that?!” He demands. She shrugs and rubs the back of her neck, “what’s she saying?” 

“She’s telling her about you,” Vi says. 

She drags him through the shiny halls of a building flooded with sunlight. He knew Vi wouldn’t let her be thrown into a cell. There are guards everywhere though. But they are guards who nod at Vi even through the disgust on their face. She brings him to a door and undoes the cuff. She hesitates a moment before knocking and opening it up. Ekko hesitates at the sound of whispering. What if he makes this worse again?

“Jinx? It’s Vi. I brought someone to see you,” the whispering stops. 

Vi reaches for him but he bats her hand away and forces himself forward. 

Jinx is crouched in the far corner. Her entire head is cased in white bandages. They match her pale skin and the white garment they’ve put her in. The room is completely devoid of color. The only color is her purple eyes. They regard him from underneath the bandages, surrounded by bruises. She blinks twice and looks to her side like she’s looking for someone. But then like she always does, her eyes flick over and focus on him. Vi inhales sharply when she gets to her feet and makes her way over. 

“I thought you died,” she says simply. It’s hard to swallow, “you were supposed to be there.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says. Her fingers tap his hand and then snatch back. Unsure. He now knows more about the war in her head, but that doesn’t make it any easier, “I broke time.”

“How?”

“Turned it back longer than four seconds,” he says. Her lip curls, “A lot longer.”

“So you made it a bomb,” she says, “did it work?”

“We’re here aren’t we?” 

She freezes and looks around. He feels behind him in Vi’s general directly and pushes. His hand hits some part of her that stands hard and unyielding and needs to get the fuck out. Before Ekko can look he feels her withdraw. Then it’s just him and Jinx in the white room. Her hand goes out and back and out in something that almost looks like she’s swinging her arm. Then it streaks out and latches onto his wrist. He turns his hand as she walks her fingers to his palm and clenches theirs together. Her lips tremble and she looks up at him. 

“It fell apart again,” she says, her voice steadier even as her lips tremble, “I fucked it up.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, gripping her shoulder. She tenses at the contact and but her eyes remain stubbornly focused on him, “I fucked it up too. I broke time.”

“It’s not a competition,” she huffs. 

“Good, because I’d win,” he says. Her eyes narrow, “I broke time,” he reminds her. 

“Seems fixed now,” she shoots back, “seems—slow,” she glances around the room, something annoyed flickering in her eyes, “I don’t like it in here.”

“Okay,” he says, “let’s get out of here.”

She shivers at the thought. Ekko hates that she’s been trapped in this room for even a moment. Though he recognizes this was the safest place for her, it feels wrong. He doesn’t know what the line is though. Safe and tolerable seem to be on opposite sides of the spectrum for her. He doesn’t even know if he can take her out of here. Maybe they’ve both been locked in the room. Still, he resolves to try. He reaches for the door and tugs. Thankfully it opens. Sunlight spills forward from the massive windows. Jinx hesitates next to him. 

“I know it’s a lot,” he says, “lean on me.” 

She puts more of her weight on him and something further eases in his chest. They take the few steps out of the room together. Her other hand comes up and covers her forehead as she looks at the bright blue sky. He knows she wants to fly away but for now she just leans on him. Somehow that feels like enough. He sees a seam in the window and shoves it up with one hand. Only a trickle of a breeze comes through but she closes her eyes. The peace on her face doesn’t make him think of the other Powder for once. It makes him think of the cans of fresh paint in the Lanes. The spark of life surrounded by all the darkness. It’s just a spark, just a pair of tearful eyes on a bridge, but it is there. It’s all that matters. 

“Can we fly?” she asks. 

“We will,” he promises, “but not on an empty stomach.”

Her eyes shoot open and look hopefully at him. He has a feeling even with all the wealth she’s been refusing to eat. Now she looks hungry. It’s something. He looks around for anyone who could bring them food. Maybe he can hid her from Vi long enough to ask. He sees the half cracked door down the hall. Jinx tightens her fingers on him and leans more heavily. 

“Can you trust me this time?” He asks. 

She hesitates and then nods. He reaches up and eases some of the bandage down to cover her eyes. She leans fully on him but matches his steps as they hobble over to the room. Vi is sitting there with Caitlyn. Who also has bandages over her eyes. She’s sitting perfectly straight, her visible eye staring at her hands. Vi looks anguished next to her, but she is sitting there. Waiting. Ekko keeps Jinx on the other side of the door as he cracks it. Vi’s eyes take in the fingers clenched around his and she pushes herself up. 

“I need food,” he hisses. 

Vi looks at Caitlyn like she doesn’t know what to do. Ekko gets the distinct impression all three of them are in their own cells. She and Caitlyn seem to be waiting for someone to open theirs. For two people who keep breaking each other out of prison, they are fucking awful at it. He doesn’t have time for them to figure out which key hits the lock in this moment. Not with Jinx laying her head on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Piltie—“ he grinds his teeth. Her eye blinks like she’s struggling to hear him. Slowly her her starts to move. “Caitlyn,” he hisses. The blue eye meets his, “you want to help? I need food. For her.”

Caitlyn frowns and Vi lets out a ragged breath. Something that sounds like relief. Caitlyn looks around and reaches for something. Vi grabs the cup on the side of the bed. Caitlyn looks from her to the cup and blinks again before taking it. Their hands brush against each other and there’s a wetness in both of their eyes that Ekko would find gross under any circumstances. Caitlyn drinks and reaches out of Ekko’s view. There’s a hushed exchange and Vi appears with a tray laden with food. 

“Finally,” Jinx sighs and Ekko realizes she’s pulled up the bandage. His heart catches as he waits for her to look for one of her ghosts but she just reached out and takes something off the plate, “how’d you get fruit up here?”

No-one seems to know how to answer and Jinx looks between them. There’s something like annoyance on her face at their silence. 

“Kiramman’s can get anything,” he says, “how hard did you hit your head?” He teases. Jinx rolls her eyes and immediately leans more against him, “shit—“

“Bring her here,” Caitlyn says and the authority in her raspy voice has him moving before he remember what a bad idea that is, “Vi—“

“I just need to sit,” she grouses. He guides her into the chair but she tangles their feet and somehow he winds up in the chair and she winds up in his lap. She slings and arm over his shoulders and drops her head onto his chest like that’s normal and looks at the pair of them, “how come you got to keep your hair?” She asks Caitlyn. 

“She didn’t crack her skull,” Vi blurts out. Jinx nuzzles closer to him. Ekko can feel the start of stubble on her skull where the bandages have rolled up, “she—“

“Lost my eye,” Caitlyn says finally. They both look at each other. The blanket moves and after a moment Vi slips her hand underneath. Just enough to keep their joined hands out of view, “my eye is gone,” Caitlyn says with a bit more firmness. 

Jinx sighs and gets more comfortable against him. 

“I wanted to steal a ship and fly away,” she complains. Vi’s throat works as Ekko’s heart jumps. But she’s not away. She’s here. Itching her stubble against his neck, “now you look like a pirate,” Vi covers her mouth with her hand. Caitlyn stares at her. Her mouth frowns and the eases, then almost smiles, “too many pirates,” she sighs, “I’m floating.”

Vi lurches forward and peers at her head. But she doesn’t let go of Caitlyn’s hand. Or maybe Caitlyn won’t let her. She and Ekko look at each other and she shakes her head. No sign of bleeding. Maybe she is just tired. It’s not like they have much leeway when it comes to not eating. Though Gods knew she tried to get out of it enough until he figured out how to make it a game she enjoyed. Now he feels her breathing start to even out and realizes she’s fallen asleep. He looks at Vi who seems painfully caught between being a big sister and a girlfriend—between all the roles that have been put on her. So Ekko chooses instead and gets his arm under Jinx’s knees. She doesn’t move when he straightens up. 

“Is there a normal room?” 

“Yeah,” Vi says. 

She gives Caitlyn’s hand a squeeze and pushes up. She leads him two doors in the opposite direction. It’s a small room but there’s clean sheets and a window. He nods and walks over to the window with Jinx in his arms, cracking it open. The fresh air makes her sigh in her dreams. Vi’s gaze is hot on his neck. He knows where her mind is, where his would be too if he didn’t know. If he hadn’t spent those days living his life in three second increments. Vi didn’t. But Vi stands there silently and doesn’t close the window. After another long moment she nods at him and leaves the room. 

When he goes to put her down he feels a tug at his hips.

Jinx has stuck her wrist into his belt. Ekko knows he could pull it out. He also knows what she is asking. It takes some maneuvering to get them onto the bed facing each other. But he’s contorted himself through worse. He gets them facing each other. His head high on the pillow, hers low but they fit. He doesn’t bother with the sheets as he pulls her into the confines of his jacket. She sighs and nudges forward more, rubbing her bandaged head under his chin. 

“Itchy,” she mumbles. 

He curves his hand up and rubs against the bandages along he skull. She sighs and buries herself even closer, working one of her legs between his. It’s new and familiar at the same time. She likes to be held like this so when she wakes up she can know he’s there without asking. Without wondering. It makes the ghosts go away. He’s never seen her sleep this deeply though. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles into his collarbone. He doesn’t know what she’s thanking him for. But he has a feeling it’s more than scratching her head, “stay?”

“Yeah,” he says, tightening his coat around them both. 

She hums and within moments is back asleep. Ekko wants to stay awake but the feel of her breath is hypnotic. Suddenly, it’s like he’s been awake since before he broke time. Like he doesn’t know how to be awake anymore. It’s hard to let go enough to sleep and not guard against the world. But Jinx keeps breathing steadily against his chest. Ekko feels his own breath catching her rhythm. He relaxes further into the beat between them. 

It’s always, always a dance. 

He never wants it to end. 

[thedirtygridd]

LANDO’S SECRET SPOT…

WARNINGS - 18+, Strong sexual content, Dominant theme

Summary - Lando invites you on a hike, where he then reveals a secret location he likes to take girls. One thing leads to another and you end up getting very dirty with him. (Not my photos)

AS REQUESTED! MORE LANDO!

The hike was tough. You were both walking up the hills around Monaco, you had been going for a few hours now. Sweat starting to drip off both of your bodies.

You had been invited on the walk by Lando Norris. Someone you had not fully met before, only spoken to on Instagram. He slid into your dms a few weeks ago and insisted you came to meet him today.

The young hot shot. The flirtatious, horny, sex-driven male ( so you had heard ). You had heard stories about him and how wild he can get.

After his split with his girlfriend, he had gone all out - sleeping with as many different girls as possible. Trying out as many things as he wanted, because he could. He always had a supply of girls willing to get fucked by him, because look at him!

And he knew it…he was becoming a very sexually confident man. A dominant one.

It was midday, the sun at its highest, the temperature starting to soar. Lando had taken off his tshirt for the remainder of the climb. You found it difficult not to stare. Your eyes automatically flicked over to observe his muscly body.

You noticed his muscles tensing up and twitching as he walked, the sweat dripping down his hard back. You were definitely attracted to him. He had the body every guy strives for.

“Let’s stop up here…this will be a good spot” spoke lando as he pointed to a quiet spot near the bushes.

As you approached the bushes, you were surprised that lando continued to walk, his arms pulling aside the branches and brambles. He created a path for you to follow.

“In here?” You asked, confused.

“Yeah come on, it’ll be fun…nobody will see us in here, can’t be bothered with the paps seeing me”

You walked in front of him, past where he was holding apart the bushes, and as you did, you felt a shoot of pain hit you as he slapped your right ass cheek. The slap was hard, but also felt good

“What was that for huh?” You asked

“I couldn’t help it, you’ve got such a great ass. It needed it”

You weren’t fully listening at this point, as lando faced you, because all you could remember seeing was a trickle of sweat slowly dripping down from his wide neck, down the middle of his thick chest, and then zig zagging across his what looked like rock-hard abs.

He was panting slightly after the climb. Every time he panted, his abs would grind against one another.

You sat down on the floor , hidden by the bushes in his secret little spot.

“Fuck I need to piss” cried out lando.

He didn’t even hesitate, he immediately slid his shorts down, exposing his jack and Jones boxer shorts. He tight hand entered the front of his boxers, and whipped out his cock. He started pudding in front of you, onto the bushes. He ass half exposed to you as he did. You had never noticed how good of an ass lando had for a guy.

Before you could say anything, lando spoke “get undressed”

He continued to piss, you could hear his flow hitting the ground. He cock sounded powerful…you wondered if it would be in other ways.

You pulled your shorts down and exposed yourself in just your bra and panties. By the point, he has finished and had turned towards you. His hand still gripping his cock, but now he was stroking it at the sight of you.

You noticed how quickly his cock had become erect, his fingers rubbing his hardening tip, you noticed him mix some left over piss with the pre-cum that was now starting to ooze out.

He stood in front of you and looked down at you. You felt so innocent and over-powered. His abs looked even better from down below.

“Suck me” he demanded

You didn’t even have to hesitate, his cock looked so appetising. It stood in front of your face, rock hard, and you couldn’t help but think that it was the best looking cock you had ever seen.

You took him into your mouth, you could feel every throbbing vein on his shaft as you slid your tongue over him.

He tasted very salty, the taste was good. He began thrusting harder, you could hear him begin to moan over the sound of his cock sloshing around your mouth. He took both his hands and grabbed the back of your head as he pushed even further. You started to gag on him, but he continued to thrust.

Spit started dripping out your mouth and onto your chest

At this point, lando pulled out. You noticed ribbons of your spit dangling off his hard length as he stood over you. He masculine hands pulled off your bra and he began smothering your spit around your face, and your tits.

He then grabbed your throat…you felt so dominated. He added “ open your mouth for me baby “ and do you did.

He stepped over you and spat into your mouth. His spit tasted good too. As you sucked on his saliva, your hands smothered his sweaty abs. The feeling of them so hard, and so slippery. You didn’t get long to admire them, before he ordered you to get ready for your next task in pleasuring him

He knelt down in front of you, you placed a hand on his thick and sweaty shoulder, while lando placed his on your chin. He kissed you and then said quietly “you might never have done this to a guy before…but you’re gonna do anything I say aren’t you baby?”

You nodded

“Lick me out..” lando said bluntly.

He faced away from you, showing off his delicious back muscles, and then bent forward, almost as though he was on all fours. His ass was exposed right in front of you

You went closer and began to lick him. You swirled your tongue around his rim, and used your other hand to jerk his hard cock at the same time

“Faster! Fuck yeah” lando groaned. You knew you were pleasing him, his whole body started twitching. Your tongue briefly going even further into him and you rimmed him out

Before you knew it, lando had got too sexually frustrated, and had flipped you onto your back. He immediately slid his tongue inside your pussy. He went further than any guy had ever. His tongue licked up every inch of you down there, the feeling so immense.

And then you finally got to feel every inch of him inside you. He got you positioned into doggy, and entered you. From this position he felt huge. He felt like he was stretching you from all angles. You heard him moaning, as he slapped your ass.

You must’ve orgasmed at least three times as he fucked you like this.

He pulled out, you heard a “slop” noise as he did, all your juices flowing out in pleasure.

Lando flipped you over and spat on your tits. He placed his length in between both of your tits and started thrusting. You used your hands to push them both together, squeezing on his hard cock. The mixture of his spit, and your sweat, creating the perfect lubrication.

And then you felt him tense up…his eyes rolled back into his head, his teeth biting his lip, as he released his load.

You felt his cock pulsate as the warm, gooey, white milk hit you. It splashed up your neck with force, and smothered your tits.

You knew his cock would be powerful after watching him piss. Now he had proven that with him cum shot.

As he finished, you both took a moment to pause. You looked down at yourself and noticed how covered in his juices you were

“Well … that was fun…you’ll have to come hiking with me more often…” Lando flirted.

[pistonhyundai]

Skate 2 at 15: Viva San Vanelona

Skate 2 turned 15 years old this week, and I never stopped playing it. Even when the servers slowly went to hell and made it harder (eventually impossible) for you to skate with other people or watch their clips, I'd still feel the urge to boot it up and screw around. In that eight year stretch where it wasn't backwards compatible with modern Xboxes, I kept a 360 hooked up just so I could always have a way to play it, and even afterwards only felt comfortable unplugging it after buying a digital copy on the 360 marketplace so I wouldn't even need to put the disc in my Series X.

Not many games have this sort of power over me. More recent indie efforts like Session and Skater XL don't capture that same feeling, and even Skate 3, a game with a fair share of features you could only view as improvements to the series, can't quite be as absorbing. So what is it about Skate 2 that's made it a constant for nearly half my life? I guess you can start with the obvious: how it feels to play.

When I think about a lot of my absolute favorite video games—shooters like Quake, platformers like Mario and Sonic, or even a strategy game like Worms Armageddon—the through-line between them is clear: there's a simple joy to the fundamental movement of the game. It goes without saying that platformers live and die by their running and jumping, but Quake is similarly defined by its breakneck speed and movement tech, and even with Worms (where the standard ground movement is deliberately sluggish), the high-risk-high-reward flinging granted by the Ninja Rope item is so ubiquitous to the series that a lot of fans outright ignore entries that don't get its physics right. When something as fundamental as simply getting around in a video game is its own fun, it makes it very easy to play something just for the sake of it, and the Skate series embodies that quality.

Skate's analog stick-driven Flickit trick system is a contentious one depending on who you ask, and when you think about the skateboarding games that came before it, that's understandable. The immediacy of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater's "direction + button = trick" formula came to define the genre in the series' heyday thanks to its approachable, pick-up-and-play nature (even Hawk-era games striving to be more grounded and technical like Thrasher: Skate and Destroy still rely on similar button combinations for its tricks), so of course Skate's idiosyncratic control scheme and the nuance it provides isn't going to be for everybody. Should you overcome the comparatively steep learning curve, however, Flickit becomes immensely rewarding to work with. Getting around feels incredibly natural, and you're given an unparalleled degree of control over things like the speed of your flip tricks, the height of your jumps, and the motion of your grabs—all with movements of the right analog stick. It delivers a level of finesse and a connection between you and the board that feels like nothing else in the genre.

This depth the Flickit system provides (along with the generally higher risk of outright bailing) puts a greater emphasis on landing single tricks than your average skateboarding game. A rail, ramp, or gap is usually a means to an end as part of a larger combo in other games, but like how simulation racers in the vein of Forza and Gran Turismo contrast arcade racers by finding simpler joys in hitting a corner's apex just perfectly, Skate relishes the smaller moments, treating them as setpieces unto themselves. That perfectly smooth grind down a slanted staircase railing. The clean landing of a half-pipe transfer you put that extra bit of spin to. A miraculous rooftop drop onto a nearby incline. Having any one of these things go off without a hitch after throwing yourself at them repeatedly brings a sense of accomplishment that rivals any million-point Pro Skater combo (while the ragdoll physics and crunchy sound work ensure that failure is its own entertainment without getting too graphic), and it's something that makes you look at the world with a different eye compared to other extreme sports games; one that feels a little closer to an actual skateboarder's.

Instead of thinking about how you can link your surroundings together for huge combos, you think about what looks and feels good, approaching individual landmarks from all angles to pick them apart, eventually getting off your board to drag nearby props over to either mutate the spot or slot the object in as the missing piece that makes something skatable with flair. Maybe you'll even want to edit the replay and upload it to the game's Skate Reel gallery of user-made photos and replays—or in these days of dead servers, save it manually with the Xbox's built-in recording. Each Skate game has scoring mechanics and career modes, all with the unique objectives and trappings you'd expect from them, but it's these naturally occurring, self-imposed "I wonder if I can do that?" moments that end up being the best challenges in the series.

And this is where Skate 2 really stands out from the other games in the trilogy as something special: its setting is perhaps as perfect a canvas for its gameplay as you can ask. New San Vanelona, a renovated take on the original game's city (the result of an earthquake that occurred in the Wii and DS-exclusive spinoff, Skate It), is a sprawling skate wonderland full of diverse environments, each brimming with unique opportunities to capitalize on. Every region has its own makeup that feels catered to a specific style of skateboarding: Cougar Mountain's hillside roads are made for careening down, the dilapidated buildings and rooftops of the Boneyard are begging for prop improvisation, and there are multiple skate parks and mega complexes that grant intoxicatingly big air. Proceed for a few seconds in any direction and you'll find an interesting spot to skate, an object to drag around for use in a setup, or some insane drop or steep road you can use to either set up a huge jump or simply eat shit after building up speed. Each location gracefully the flows into the next, with smaller skate spots peppered in along the way, making it incredibly easy to lose hours just mindlessly roving around the city, seeing what corners of the world speak to you at a given moment. The first game's take on the city is decent, but feels a little barren by comparison (it doesn't help that it lacks the moveable props or the ability to get off your skateboard, making it harder to set things up), and the third game's Port Carverton is segregated into three disconnected biomes that can't quite inspire the same creativity as New San Vanelona.

Skate 2's level design is so engrossing that some of its most memorable spots exist entirely by accident, never intended to actually be used. The series is no stranger to glitches, as I'm sure you've seen on YouTube, but it can be used for more than just funny highlights and bails. While they can end up spoiling the competitive aspect of the wipeout-based objectives, certain exploits can be used to bend the rules and get a little extra help in making something happen. Depending on the glitch you use, you can build up speed quickly in a tight location or launch yourself dozens (sometimes hundreds) of feet into the air, and more enterprising skaters can use this to reach new heights that give their surroundings a whole new complexion. One such spot is found by Slappy's skate park, an early-game location that's introduced to you via a roll-in drop that leads into the first major air you catch in the game. It's fun enough to mess around in on its own, but if you exploit a glitch to work your way to its adjacent rooftops, you can make it to the top of nearby hangar that just so happens to line up with the roll-in jump's landing. The result is an enormous leap that dwarfs that original roll-in gap, with a landing that grants you the kind of speed that lets you approach the nearby quarter-pipes and jumps in new ways, clearing huge spine transfers and even letting you jump from the ground to another nearby roof. It adds an extra dimension to what was already one of my favorite stomping grounds in the game, taking what was once well-worn territory over the top. Skate 2 has its own themes of anti-authority sprinkled in (an evil corporation controls the Financial District of the city and has capped rails and hired security to make places unskatable, something you deal with in the course of the career mode), but it's this kind of glitch-induced trespassing through half-finished outskirts of the game that really nails urban skateboarding's spirit of rebellious expression in a way that only video games could. That it was never intended in the first place only makes it that much sweeter.

The beauty of it all is that Slappy's is just a microcosm of what it's like to play Skate 2. It feels like every inch of New San Vanelona is littered with opportunities for all sorts of unique stunts and slams, and the result is one of the most gratifying emergent gameplay experiences I've ever had. For all the possibilities Skate 3 grants with its user-created skate parks and the ability to drop props into the world at-will, it just can't match the magic of Skate 2's four-wheeling wanderlust, and even with an upcoming new entry that has a promising focus on communal creativity (almost like some sort of skateboarding Minecraft), I wouldn't be surprised if I stuck with this game for another 15 years.

[hastings727]

Fighting Games are a Bit Funny for Me

I had fighting games as a kid (smash brothers, soul calibur, tekken, cabinets at random arcades) but I never knew there was more than just mashing. The most I played was melee and soul calibur 2 on my gamecube and even then, I never bothered to look at the movelist (hell I probably didn't even know there was one) and I just played Link and the single player stuff. It was fun! Fast forward to 2013 and my dumb early 20s self having experienced competitive racing in Forza 4 and then the absolute brainrot that is league of legends. But the moment that Cloud 9 signed a smash player is when I smelled colors for the first time, because I realized that cute smash game I played as a kid had a fucking competitive scene for literally decades? So that blew my mind and *LETS JUST GO PAST ALL THE SMASH COMPETITIVE STUFF* Suffice to say I played smash 4 and a bit of melee for a time in my region. Then I watch EVO 2014 finals until 3am, find my local scene for traditional fighting games, and find the brainrot that is Skullgirls as my first fighting game. I will always love SG but the way it plays completely fucked me up for trying to play other fighting games because of how the game works. Fast forward AGAIN past all that wonderful nonsense of finding some of the best friends of my entire life and learning fighting games with them and Guilty Gear XRD drops and I eventually play it and find Faust, my first true fighting game love.

I had fighting game mains before but Faust was the true feeling of love. I loved his goofiness, the items, the random wild moments, the absolute INSANITY of it all. But then, my hubris. I am a sore loser, a sore winner, a sore everything. I took these games too seriously and all of my local friends have been playing fighting games since they were kids, and here my dumb ass is trying to beat them with less than half the experience. It was humiliating for me, and only for me because no one actually insulted or made fun of me, I basically ruined my own mental health.

Fast Forward again because in 2017 the twins were born and I basically had to stop alot of my life for a while. I play sparingly and mostly watch stuff because thats all you have time for as a parent to infants. Alot of games get rollback, I try Plus R and like it until the competitive tryhard brainrot ruins me because another friend who has more experience in these games beats me and I basically give up for a while. Strive drops, I cry about faust being different and play Anji. I play the game on and off for the next 3 years and mostly do other shit.

These days I'm actually very clear minded as I have largely ripped the competitive brainrot out of my head and play these games 110% for improvement and exploring my own ability to get good. I no longer care about the W, only in so much as it signifies that I've improved slightly. That clearheadedness has extended to other game genres I play like FPS' and MOBAs, but grinding competitive ladders is largely dead to me because I just, dont care about winning anymore. Strive is the closest to me in terms of "i grind ranked". But the only reason I do so is because the character levels up faster in the ranked towers than in the Park lol. And I like number go up. I also just, really enjoy strive. For all the work they put in to condense movelists, the characters all largely still do the same thing. I can say certain ones still feel like they need a bit of something (Testament feels like they need one of their old specials back, or some sorta trap mechanic to add to their fireballs and arbiter signs) But largely the game is successful in still allowing characters to do new things while still feeling like their old mechanics. IF you actually took the time to read my shit, wow thank you. You can find me on Strive as Revima and that is also my discord tag. I play Anji and Elphelt and I'm learning more characters for funzies. I also play a bit of SF6, 3rd strike, Vsav, and I'm learning jojos HTFT. I like improving now. I'm so happy I do because I dont want to go back to the brain rot.

[goddesspharo]

fruit emojis asks: 🍒🍌🍈

fruit emoji asks! (I keep wondering how they chose which fruit corresponded to which question!)

🍒 What’s your favorite character dynamic to write? (Can be romantic or platonic, specific or general!)

Idiots in love who don't know it! More specifically, I love antagonistic relationships with an undercurrent of something more. A key example of this was Amy/Dan when Veep was good (so...not the last few seasons). I wish I could've written a line as good as "Amy, the gates of hell have opened and you are my plus one!" because that is ultimately the dynamic I strive for 90% of the time. The enemies to lovers trope is a classic for a reason! (The enemies to enemies who-are-boning to enemies-with-feelings to enemies-who-were-maybe-never-really-enemies trope is obviously the greatest sub-genre of said trope). Another key dynamic is awesome ladies and the himbos they feel begrudging affection towards! Sad sack dudes fighting injustice while being sad! (Basically, The X-Files?!??!?) I love it all! One dynamic that I love so much that I don't think I have enough perspective to write it is the dead girl haunting a narrative trope. (Jackie Taylor, you will always be my number one! Like Lilly Kane and Laura Palmer before you! The Solaris of it all!) I keep toying with the idea of it in different things but the legwork needed to translate what's in my head to something halfway decent feels like too much!

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

I probably conflate a lot of humor with banter because like...no one's telling knock knock jokes here so it's more like the dynamic of the thing is funny or it's not. That said, the end bit in that's what narcissists do cracks me up if for no other reason than because you could throw the line "It's called operant conditioning, dickhead" into Top Gun: Maverick without feeling out of place. (I also think that the Batman/Vampire references re: Robert Pattinson's Bruce Wayne are hilarious every time I write or read them but I'm dumb like that.)

🍈 Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? Free pass to rant about blorbo opinions.

When did we start calling them blorbos? That has to be a tumblr specific thing, right? Or I'm just An Old? Didn't they used to be referred to as Flavors of the Week/Month/Year/Embarrassingly-Extended-Period-of-Time? Apparently all I write anymore is TGM fic (let me stopppppppp) so I guess it would be Hangman? Although I almost never write in his perspective - stay tuned! maybe! this new thing might not see the light of day - so maybe it's Phoenix? I don't know, I think Hangman is a handsome idiot who deflects that he is a marshmallow encased in spectacular abs by being a jackass. And Phoenix has had to grind for every rung she has climbed and applies that well-earned weariness/caution to her relationships outside of the Navy so the only thing she can easily commit to is her lack of commitment.

I think it's almost MORE interesting to have a "blorbo" and have no canon for them. After all, fic is excuse to let your favorite characters be chameleons. If you frame something right, you can get away with a lot of differing ideas so I find that I am more flexible with "headcanons" for characters I love (re: backgrounds; not necessarily the fundamentals of what I think make the character who they are) and can't stop writing than I am for drive-by peripheral characters, to be honest. For instance, I decided while writing we're busy still saying please that Halo was a new age weirdo who was super into burning sage and healing crystals (cue Breaking Bad Hank's "it's not a rock, it's a mineral") and that tiny bit of characterization has popped up here and there ever since.

[wornoutmouse]

Last one I promise to stop bothering you ahhhhh . Can we plz get a Iida Tenya (pro hero age) smut (I love this guy) like maybe you reader catching him jerking off can you imagine prim and proper tenya doing dirty things? And things get crazy after:) thank you for listening to the rambles of a crazy woman

Your wish is my command

We all know Iida has a big dick right?

And yes i looked up black hairstyles cause i just started doing my own hair leave me alone 🤚🏿

Dubious Consent, blackmail, squirting

Working for the Iida family was honest but harsh work. They strived for professionalism and didn’t allow mistakes, no matter how small. With each member holding a leading title in almost every section of Japan, it was a no-brainer that you would choose to work with them. The only problem was, your socially oblivious boss.

One would think that as the new Ingenium’s sidekick, you would have an insider’s look into his personality and lifestyle, but that was farthest from the truth. For the 2 years that you’ve worked alongside him, you had been kept at a distance and forced mainly to handle the paperwork.

According to him, until he was sure you could handle yourself on the field, you needed to stay away from danger. In hindsight, you would have understood that choice and would have been completely fine with it. However the fact you couldn't m could never learn to handle yourself in the feels if you were never allowed on the feels was a glowing contradiction

Spending time with your boss was informative yet draining. He always set an example of a good business deal and would always explain things you didn’t understand.

The downside however, was his obsession with the non-existent dress code. Since you don’t do any outside work lately, you never put on your hero costume. So i you were always dressed in normal clothes, and every last one of them he had something to critique about.

“Here’s your coffee Mr. Iida.” The bluenette man hummed his appreciation and you turn to sit back at your corner desk.“Miss L/n….”

You tense, preparing yourself as the sound of his chair scraping against the hardwood floors announced his incoming presence. His heavy footsteps loomed closer until he stopped just barely behind you.

Your legs are kicked apart and you find your boss kneeling below you with a measuring tape. “I am appalled, your skirt is 4 centimeters away from the recommended 5 inches above the knee, we do not run a brothel here, please respect the code Miss L/n!”

You sighed, it was best to just go along with his antics. “Yes, Mr. Iida, I’m sorry for my ignorance.” As you bowed you faintly heard a small choking sound and Iida’s hands grabbed your shoulders to raise you back up. “I’ll have none of that bowing, it was a simple mistake.” He pushed up his glasses before stiffly walking back to his desk.

When he came back into view, his face was slightly flushed from what you assumed to be the heat, “I am printing something in the room below, do you mind getting it for me?” You nod and headed out the door. It may have been your imagination but you could have sworn you heard a faint curse word coming from your boss’s mouth.

Reaching the lower room was quick and effortless so you sat and waited for the presumed paperwork Iida was printing. Many of your coworkers passed you with pitying looks that you did your best to ignore. You knew that this life was not one strived for by an aspiring hero but you couldn’t just up and leave.

Your head began to itch slightly. Why is it taking so long to print? While you pondered the situation, you watched a short woman walk up to the copy machine and begin copying her own set of work. You felt your eye twitch, there wasn’t anything even programmed to print.

You stood up and quickly made your way back to your office. Stepping inside, you look blandly at your enclosed room. The memory of your boss's large windowed room flashes through your mind and you decide to work out there instead.

As you walked to the door that connected your office to his, you tilt your head curiously as a loud muffled growl comes from inside. "F-Fuck yes, suck that cock!"

His voice was guttural, and the words were something you would never dream of him saying. But what stuck out to you more was where it was all happening. I know this man ain't screwing at work!!

Without thinking you barge into the room and your jaw drops at the sight.

Sitting in your chair, was your boss, Tenya Iida. His hair was disheveled and his suit was reduced to nothing but his white shirt and open slacks. He was flushed from the neck up and sweat had accumulated in his brow.

Held tightly in his right hand was his dick and it was just as dodged as him. It was also bigger than you imagined

….not that you even imagined it in the first place.

Angry blue eyes dart up to look at you through low hanging bangs and you realised you had been staring. "This is uh… Sorry!" You internally cringe at the fact you stuttered.

As you turn around to leave, you are restricted by Iida's voice. "Stop." Almost as if in a horror movie, you turn back to him slowly and it takes all your willpower not to look down as he had shamefully left his manhood out.

You press yourself against the door as you watched Iida remove his glasses and place them on your desk. "It's rude not to knock Miss L/n." You swallow shallowly when he raises a finger to motion you forward and for a moment you lose all rational as you soon found yourself standing in front of him.

His legs were spread wide open and his dick looked like it was ready to bust any moment. The tip had become an even darker red hue, contrasting ironically with the trimmed layer of dark blue curls nestled at the base.

Despite the situation, the man before you sat looking rather relaxed. He slowly rolled up his sleeves and you caught sight of swirling tattoo sleeves wrapping around each bicep. "Come closer Y/n, I promise not to bite very hard."

He had never used your first name before and that seemed to compel you to move closer, allowing him to use your wrist to place you in-between his legs. "There is a very important rule that I have yet to teach you in the world of business."

The trained look he had focused on you left no room for argument as one of his large hands easily wrapped around your upper thigh. A shiver runs up your spine as his thumb strokes your skin slightly under your skirt. "When one has even an ounce of blackmail against you…"

Iida grabs the front of your blouse and uses it as leverage to tug you to the ground. Down there, fingers gingerly comb through your freshly dyed Nubian Twists, "... you need to blackmail them as well, fair trade and all that."

The grip in your scalp tightens and you feel your eyes slightly water at the sharp sting. The other hand still holding his cock, positions it towards your full lips as a silent order. Salty precum covers your mouth and your tongue darts out to lick it off. The sight was porn worthy.

Before you got too carried away, you decided to see how far you could push him. You bring your hands to softly wrap around his member as you gauged his response. "If I agree to this arrangement, what will I get in return?"

Iida sighed as you licked his dick starting from the balls to just below the top, "What do you want, a raise?" You shake your head and kiss a thick vein traveling along his shaft. "I want to work out there, as your official sidekick."

You could tell his patience was running thin as his hips twitched so you wrapped your mouth around the top, pressing the flat of your tongue against the slit. Iida looked down at you, teeth nibbling roughly on his bottom lip. "Why...ah~ why should I let you work anywhere near me after this!?"

In a bout of anger, you accidently let your teeth drag down the sensitive skin. Iida's eyes roll to the back of his head in such a way that you couldn't pinpoint it as a result of pain or pleasure. "I can easily report your victimizing and unprofessional behavior to HR."

Iida's eyebrows furrowed and he yanked you off of his cock. You stand up shakily before being slammed against his glass table. "You got a lot of nerve, making demands yet you're the reason I was being so unprofessional."

Iida slides down to his knees and raises your skirt over your plump ass. You internally groan as you remember the matching baby blue lingerie you were wearing, that was not going to help your case. Iida slaps your right asscheek nice and hard making you moan softly. "Who is this for?"

You decide to play into it, you sway your hips a little and stick your butt out closer to his face. "It's for me, myself, and I." Iida pulls at your panty strap before letting it snap back. You had to admit it stung. Giving attention to your other cheek, a tan hand takes hold of it and squeezes hard.

"And if I let you work with me, what is my reward?" Iida uses his teeth to pull the fabric of your underwear away from your hidden prize. You hummed as if in thought, "Good karma?"

Lips wrap around your clit and suck hard, "Sorry that's not good enough for me." You grind back on his face and relax on his table more. His hot tongue massaged and prodded your lips and clit, but never got close to being inside of you.

"Working as a pro hero is karma filling in itself, but it is stressful. Not enough time for personal focus."

Iida sucked on two of his fingers before siding them up and down your slit, taking extra time to teasingly delve past your opening before retreating just as fast. You groan, "What do you want me to do, suck your dick under the table on weekends?!"

Iida hums as he joins his mouth along with his fingers. You sigh as his large middle finger finally breaches you and sends soothing sparks throughout your body as it rubs against your walls. The combined stimulation of his hot tongue against your clit, and his even warmer fingers barely grazing against your g-spot had you in pure ecstasy.

"As convenient as that sounds, if someone were to find out we'd be in a lot of trouble." At this point you're bouncing back on his fingers giving Iida a show as your pussy squelches around his fingers. Your mouth hands open in soft pants, fogging up the clear glass below you.

Iida stand up as he continues to finger fuck you in the same rythm as he pumps his cock. "How about dinner and we see how that goes? Let's be professional." You side your clenched fists down your sides as Iida removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick.

You wait in anticipation for him to fuck you but he stands completely still, and you then realise that he was waiting for an answer. "You don't think it's a little too late, dinner comes first you know?!"

As much as Iida loved your banter, his dick was so fucking hard that your joke only agitated him.

Leaning over you, he places one hand on the glass table while the other takes hold of your hair, jerking it back. You hiss as your scalp burns for a moment, but that small pain was replaced with a greater one as teeth sank into your shoulder. "If your going to be sidekick material, that attitude is going to have to be worked on now stop testing me before I fuck it out of you."

You roll your eyes and grind down on his dick making him moan, "Fine sergeant dick, I'll be your little trophy wife, in return let me work for once, I didn't go to school for nothing damnit."

Your hair is released so much quicker than you expected that you almost hit your head on the table. Iida chuckles darkly, "Wife? Trophy slut would be a better word for it." Another harsh smack was delivered to your burning bottom, but he was satisfied after long last.

His hips finally press firmly against you as the full length of him is accepted with your pulsating core.You try to talk through the discomfort, "My ring better be huge after this."

Iida laughed sympathetically as he kissed the dark bruise forming from where he bit you. "The biggest money can buy."

The stretch began to feel pleasurable as his thrusts got faster. As a result of course you could feel yourself getting louder as well. "Faster!" Iida grunted as he held your waist to balance himself. Underneath the sound of the wobbling desk, your low groans are heard as the slapping of skin soon becomes more incessant.

"I've been waiting to fuck this lewd bottom for months! Parading around in all them damn form during outfits!"

The feeling of your bosses cock pumping in and out of you was overwhelming as he was ruthless when it came to chasing his own pleasure. Your legs trembled themselves closed, as you received another harsh slap to your ass. By the time this was over, you were sure you were going to be unable to sit.

On the other end, Iida was deeply pleasured by the sight of your ebony skin shaking from the force of each thrust. That's why it was unsurprising when a high pitched moan that most definitely wasn't yours fills the room.

"Ah, yes, I'm going to cum so deep inside of you, I can right? Pretty please!?" The man was practically whimpering as his cock twitched inside of you. If you were honest, you couldn't even answer as you feel his cum fill your insides. Even so, you felt your toes curl as he kept going.

"Come for me Miss L/n!" The shakiness that seeped from his voice as he fucked himself into an overstimulated mess was adorably pathetic. You do your best to reach in between your legs and stimulate your clit.

As you get closer, your cute hole tightens like a vice around Iida's cock and he finds himself coming again in quick spurts just like before. He was unable to take anymore stimulation and weakly pulled out of you before pumping the fingers in your wet heat. "Come on, cum on my fingers Miss. L/n."

You while loudly as you rub your clit faster and like a large wave, an orgasm crashes down on your body making s clear liquid spew from your cunt, wetting the floor.

[washiseverything]

This was first posted on my wattpad account under the same handler. I’ll be transferring my favorite pieces to tumblr.

—

Pairing

Kim Hongjoong x Fem! Reader

—

Trigger warning

Break up sex

__

How did this relationship end up here?

You shivered from loneliness the cold bed gave as your partner was no where to be seen.  You were no longer worried about your boyfriend however, as this isn't the first time he put work above you. And to be quite frank, you were over it.

You laid there on your phone,scrolling through various media platforms,liking and commenting where you deem fit. But a particular post caused your mood to get even more sour.

It came from Hongjoong's personal account and it stated that he was releasing a new song featuring the 3racha,later this week. You scoffed as you continued to the comments. They radiated all good and sweet vibes, with majority saying they couldn't wait for it to release.

As you continued with a scowl adored on your features,the hot topic arrived home with a heavy sigh and tired eyes. His red hair messy from the constant pulling of stress and his dark eye bags becoming more of a prominent feature now. He was excited to see you. And when he realized you weren't stationed in the living room and kitchen like you were accustomed to, he ventured to your shared bedroom.

He saw you and instantly and almost instinctively,he latched his arms around your tiny frame. "Goodnight!" Hongjoong beamed despite his tired features. "I hope I didn't worry you too much," continued the small time rapper who's trying to make it big in the world. To support himself and you along with the family he hopes to share with you one day in the future.

In response to his sweet aura, you added your sour flavor to the mix. You hummed and shrugged in response to his question. Hongjoong released you from his embrace with a confused facial expression. "Are you okay? Is something bothering you?" He asked as he tried to look into your distant eyes.

You sighed heavily. You needed this off of your chest. All this frustration and lonely nights were really picking at you. You love Hongjoong. You know that but his actions is what you didn't favor what so ever. "I'm tired," you started off slowly.

Hongjoong nodded before speaking,"Well,if that's the case,you can head to bed. I'll join you after I-"

"I'm tired of you leaving me for your work,Hongjoong. I'm tired of all these lonely nights. I want you back,I require your love and attention," you cut Hongjoong's statement midway.

He seemed a bit stunned at your sudden confession and seemed to be having trouble formulating his response for you. "I'm sorry I made you feel this way, but you have to understand being in the music industry isn't easy and really time consuming. I told you this before,yes?"

"Then leave," you said calmly. Finally staring in the brown orbs of the older male. He was taken back by your responses tonight.

He tried to crack a smile before speaking to you,"Y/N,you're being irrational here. I think we should just head to bed and call it a night,"

You scoffed at Hongjoong. His response was not what you were looking for. "Did you even hear me before,Hongjoong? I miss how we were when we first started dating. We were so close and always stuck with each other. But then after,I helped you promoting your music and you made it somewhat big in the world,you suddenly forget who put you there," your tone slightly rising as you started poking Hongjoong exclusively hard on his shoulder.

Hongjoong only bowed his head as he started to grow a bit angry at what you were saying. He understands why you are angry but you don't really expect him to give up on his dreams to pursue only you? You both can live in harmony if the efforts are put in on both sides of the relationship but you playing the victim card and saying that he only strived due to your promotions were greatly infuriating him.

"Hongjoong,let me be honest with you. I think we should just break from other," You stated as you started making yourself more comfortable under the padded sheets.

"Are you saying you want a break up?"

"You can call it that,"

Hongjoong's brows went from knitted together with anger to loose with regret and sadness. He was broken honestly. And all over his job.

"I won't allow you,Y/N," Hongjoong said with an obvious frown.

Though,it didn't seem like the right time he kissed you from the cheek first and he progressed onward with a heavy heart. From your cheeks to your lips.

You didn't react much. That was until you felt a burning liquid on your face. You pushed Hongjoong away and with this action to reveal his tears. His simple act of fright in fear of losing you caused you to feel much guilt.

You gripped his cheeks harshly to lock him in place as you dived back in to the kiss. Against his lips you muttered ever so softly,"It's not your fault,"

You spoke from your heart but not from your head. That told you something completely different.

Hongjoong immediately returned your act of love as he pulled you closer to his form. He rested you on his lap after much struggle with the sheets you were entangled with. His arms roamed your body from over your clothes to under as you pecked his exposed neck.

You still stood by your decision however about a break or leaving but seeing Hongjoong in such a state, had you filled with guilt.

Hongjoong's slight moaning to you nibbling against his sweet spot, had you feeling stuff you haven't in a while. He tugged at your shirt as a signal for it to be remove and easily you complied with such a request. The cold air brushed against your exposed skin causing it to harden. And in result causing Hongjoong's mouth to water hungrily.

He nibbled and sucked at your chest as your hand played with his hair. Music that he could never be able to make. His music didn't sound as good either. Your moans to him was the epitome of a perfect song.

This worked you up big time. Your breasts being a sensitive part of you. Hongjoong playing with and sucking on the said skin area made you succumb to his every command and need.

You grind against him for much needed friction. Your body shuddered at the slap he placed on your ass. "Don't leave me," he whispered as his face buried into your neck.

You only hummed as your hands traveled hastily to his body. Your actions being proved as greedy. You touched his shaft that was rock hard and your body thought it best to give a light squeeze. Hongjoong reacted as quickly to this. The moan leaving almost instantly.

"Don't tease me,please," he whimpered as he removed your arm.

He gently took you off of his lap as he gave more room for his shaft to breathe and you removed your garments at the sight of the view. After, you ran back to his lap once more. You gave yourself no prep tonight. You whispered a string of curse words under your breath as you rode Hongjoong.

He seemed a bit taken back at your high sex drive tonight and he surely wasn't in the mood of rough sex either. He tried his best to keep his strides slow and steady but you were demanding and insisted on having a rough time. This action caused both of you to be so out of sync with each other but you surely were enjoying it as the moans never stop leaving your lips. However,Hongjoong's frown never lifted and only small grunts left ever so often. He only wanted a passionate night with you, just this night. He didn't want sex. He wanted love.

You rode and rode,moaned and rode until your high came and gone. It was magical;you were seeing the stars! But Kim Hongjoong wasn't pleased. "Are you still staying with me? Is the break still mandatory for us to heal?" He asked so warily,so exhausted. So worried and concerned. He needed you.

You froze for a few seconds,only to give the answer that cracked the man's poor heart poor.

"Yes,I still think we need to work out our indifferences and think about what went wrong,"

[neon-junkie]

Duality - Chpts 1,2&3

Summary: There's a handful of things you hate, like the men who continue to pester you at the Saloon after you've told them no, or the way strangers look at you when you decide to wear pants. But the one thing you hate that most is Micah Bell. But if you hate him so much, then why are you allowing him to wrap his hand around your neck as he grinds his crotch down against yours? Is he using you? or are you using him?

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: 8837 (ongoing work) 

Rating: NSFW Warnings: Depictions of Violence (Reader is fine)

Tags: Dead Dove: Do not eat, Fights/Arguments, Slow burn, Hate sex, Enemies with benefits, Enemies to lovers, Pity sex, Vaginal sex, Outdoor sex, Creampies, Blood kink, Knives, Choking, Breath play, Rough/Manhandling, Heists & Robberies, Nipple sucking/licking, Making out, Sloppy kisses, Dirty talking, Grinding.

Notes: This fic was inspired by the gang of children that recently decided to start hurdling abuse at me simply because I enjoy Micah character. If he bad then why he make my pussy go brr?? I ain't ever gonna stop writing for him, somebody's gotta love the ratman so I guess I'll volunteer as tribute. This piece is inspired by @deputytrash​ and their work called ‘Micah Bell is a Rat Bastard,’ that I can’t actually link here because Tumblr hates links:))) so please go stalk them for the original fic. shoutout to all the other Micah fuckers out there; we're kinda fucked up but hey, we ain't hurting anybody<3

[Chapter 4]

Some men are born with the purest of hearts; they're full of good intentions, kindness, willingness to help others. They want to see the world go round, they enjoy watching the days go by with their loved ones around them. They want nothing more than love and equality, happiness for everyone, and they strive to achieve that. Those men, such as Arthur, are ones that you obviously enjoy for such reasons, and you enjoy watching them on the sideline, smiling at the way they make everyone happy. You've tried dating those men before and something felt... off about them, almost fake; you wish to enjoy such relationships with the purest of men, but you've never been able to sit in that saddle comfortably. The leather smells off and something constantly jabs at your tailbone. It's fine, honestly, to not sit comfortably in that saddle. Others can enjoy those men, ones who deserve them, ones who are just as pure and wholesome as those men they seek out. You're happy for them, you enjoy seeing them enjoy each others company, they really do deserve it. Only that leaves you with the problem of 'who the hell am I meant to fall for?' There are others who are sometimes split down the middle, with good and bad intentions, men such as Dutch who eventually crack under so much pressure, as expected. But these men have never really taken your fancy either. You curse the Gods for creating you with no intentions to seek out those pure of heart, or even slightly pure of heart. Why can't you be considered normal? You're a good person, yet you don't long for someone as good as you. 

Instead, those who have only ever walked the darker path take your fancy. Those men who have no good intentions in them, who only look out for themselves and sometimes (but rarely) the few people closest to them, if you're stupid enough to get close to them, to begin with. You enjoy the challenge, you enjoy taming the beast, being the one person that someone so wild can trust. It's a generic trope that you've read in romance novels where the princess falls for the villain, but they always seem to have the happiest of endings? and the stories themselves are so juicy, so rich and full of layers. The generic happy couple trope gets so boring, nothing to read into. But if you're given a story about a well-layered villain who softens out within time then you'll eat said story off the dirt if you have to, it's always so rich and fulfilling, though you never expected to end up in one. "Which book are you reading today?" Mary-Beth asks you as she joins you on the beach, leaning back against the log you're leaning against. You do miss sitting on the cliff at Horseshoe Overlook, peering up at the landscape whenever your eyes need a break from being so engulfed in whatever book you were reading. But there's something just as good as looking out at the water, hearing the waves lapping against the shore as you read, enjoying the river breeze on a hot Lemoyne day. "The same as last time, that one centered around the villain," you tell her, your eyes momentarily peeking up to watch as she sits down beside you. "Still? Oh, you and your dark fiction," Mary-Beth replies with a laugh. She'd given your book that nickname after you explained the plot to her. Mary-Beth, as wholesome and pure as she is, couldn't quite understand why you'd get so engulfed in a book where the princess falls for the villain, completely ignoring the stud hero and running off with the bad guy instead. After explaining how layered the villain was, and how his actions were the result of past trauma, she somewhat understood but decided that she's happy with her sappy romance novels. That's understandable, your taste isn't for everyone, and you'd both agreed on that. "Like I said, I just find it more interesting," you reply, your eyes trailing over to the landscape. "Which book have you got?" you ask. "Oh, the same still. I've almost finished it! The poor man in it has finally been turned away from that woman, though they're both in love," she replies. "But from what you've told me, she's not exactly... the best person in the world?" you ask. "I guess not. Maybe I am into a little bit of dark fiction then, hm?" Mary-Beth questions with a soft laugh, finally opening her book to pick up from where she left off. "Maybe-" you begin to speak, but the sound of shouting draws your attention back to camp. You and Mary-Beth peer over your shoulders to watch the commotion in the distance. Ugh. It's Micah again, screaming at Bill for being so kind to the poor dog Jack had found, Cain. He's hollering away, something about not being soft on strays, that they'll only follow you around for food, whatever. You try to hold in your laughter when Micah does the last thing you'd expect, literally barking at Bill before storming off. "That man sure is evil," Mary-Beth comments. "I still ain't sure why Dutch allows him to follow us around, a bit like Cain really," she frowns, turning her gaze away. "He is, funny that he can't see just how much of a dog he is," you laugh along, returning your focus back to your book. "Has he bothered you again recently?" she questions, knowing that your last run-in with him was only a few days ago. "No, he ain't spoke to me, he ain't even looked at me." "Good, probably because he's still got that black eye you gave him," Mary-Beth replies, trying to hold back on her laughter. "Well, he did deserve it." Micah had pestered you a few days ago, stirring up some shit simply because he was bored. You were sat by yourself in camp, playing a solo game of solitaire whilst the wind was quiet, your cards not blowing away for once. He waltzed over, as always, looking like he owned the place; he only acts that way because he sucks up to Dutch, a bit of a teachers' pet, though he's definitely never stepped foot in a school. "Hey," Micah says to you. Well, you were unsure if he was speaking to you as your head was down, focused on the cards, so Micah quickly snapped when you didn't reply. "I said hey. You deaf?" he asks, lightly tapping the back of your shoulder. You let out a long sigh as you roll your eyes and look up. "I didn't know you were speaking to me, Micah," you reply. "Well, who else would I be speaking to, doll? There ain't anyone else around here," Micah says with a laugh, waving his hands about to gesture that nobody was nearby. "I can see that now," you sigh. You begin to put your cards away, knowing that if Micah's here then there's no way you'll be able to play this game in peace. Whatever, you were stumped anyway, considering calling this game quits, and Micahs appearance had encouraged you to do so. "What're you doing?" Micah questions. "I was playing solitaire," you reply, shuffling the cards back together and returning them to their container, an old mints tin that you found fits the cards much better than their old paper box. "And why have you packed up, hm? Is it 'cause I'm here?" Micah asks, knowing the answer. "It is," you say as you stand and put the tin in your pocket, beginning to walk off. The last person you ever want to talk to is Micah, but it seems he really wants to talk to you as he begins to follow you. "Where're you going? I ain't that bad. I know we don't exactly get along but you can't fault me for trying to right these wrongs with you," Micah begins, playing the white knight card as always, batting his lashes as if he hasn't made a handful of remarks towards you in the past, ensuring there's a thick barrier between the two of you. "I ain't interested in making friends with you, Micah. Now leave me be," you snap back, picking up the pace as you storm past Dutch's tent, hoping he'd pick up on the small commotion but his head is buried deep in his current Evelyn Miller book. "Such mean words coming from such a pretty face," Micah pouts, still on your trail, letting out his generic laugh. "Wouldn't you rather have friends than enemies?" "I'd rather have nothing to do with you, Micah," you tell him as you come to a halt, stopping in the dead center of camp. If Micah won't leave you alone then hopefully someone will step in, as their eyes had begun to peer over to the commotion; even Dutch has put his book down. "Easy there, sweetheart," Micah coos with his generic laugh. He goes to speak again but you're quick to cut him off. "I ain't your sweetheart, Micah. Quit calling me those names," you huff. "Of course, you ain't. I like a bit of fire in my women but you're just a bit too reckless for my taste," Micah tells you, his tone slowly turning to frustrated. He's quit the innocent act, lowering his hands as he had them raised as he followed you throughout the camp. If he can't win you over then he'll ensure you never even slightly consider him a friend, beginning to insult you to burn whatever was left of that bridge. "Good, I'd hate to be your taste. What an unlucky woman she must be for the likes of you to have eyes on her." Micah lets out another laugh as he takes a step closer to you, a little too close, and you're quick to cut him off before he can open his mouth. "Back off, Micah. Don't you try and get close to me," you order him. "Why not, hm? You scared someone is finally gonna put a woman like you back in her-" That's enough. Without hesitation, you clench your fist and swing for that vermin of a man, if you can even be kind enough to call him a man to begin with. You were aiming for his nose but hit his cheekbone instead, which is just as good as his eye had swollen up from the impact. Micah stumbled back and hit the ground with the most satisfying thud you'd ever heard, the sound still making you smile whenever you think about it. You didn't stick around much after that, burning the image of Micah lying on the floor clutching his eye into your memory before turning heel and marching off, wandering off into the trees so you could cool yourself off and devilishly admire your bruised knuckles. You refused to bandage them up, even after Charles had practically begged you, but you were eager to show off your trophy, even flaunting it at Micah from a distance whenever he came into your line of sight. His eyes hadn't met yours since, but you could feel his burning glare on you whenever you two were within ten feet of each other. You'd even overheard him attempting to bitch about you to Kieran, who simply nodded along to prevent himself from getting pulled into this mess. Needless to say, you and Micah do not get along. There's a handful of camp members that don't get along, but your burning hatred for each other seems to stand out the most. You're always eager to step in whenever Micahs attempting to chew someone's ear off, and he always gives you that same laugh as he attempts to mock you, but he often turns heel and storms away, calling you a bitch or whatever petty insult he has on his mind. But since that interaction, Micah has stayed well clear of you. Dutch probably told him to stop pestering you after you'd almost knocked his lights out, though you doubt that as Dutch ended up doing something that only seemed to make your 'friendship' worse. ----------- Another day, another dollar, or whatever the civilized phrase is. It's a quote you've heard within towns and cities, something bosses drill into the minds of their workers to stop them from realizing that they're being used as workhorses for less than pennies. At least out here you can work on your own terms, your only boss is Dutch and he always ensures that everybody gets a fair cut. Why slave away in a factory when you can rob some folk that needs robbing and make a few hundred off them? Dutch has a heist planned for you today, one that he says needs a woman touch. Karen is the only other gunwoman in the camp but Dutch has told you that she's a little too reckless for the job. Dutch knows that Sadie is also a gunwoman but she's still in mourning, arguing with Pearson every so often, but she isn't ready to step up to that rank yet.  "And that's why I need you for this job. It's genric and old fashioned of us, but there's a payroll heading up into Rhodes and I was thinking you could play the damsel in distress, hunched over at the roadside, pouting sweetly as you ask them for a ride into town," Dutch tells you outside his tent, a week or so after your last run-in with Micah.  "And if they don't stop?" you question.  "Why would they not stop? A pretty lady such as yourself asking for a ride? When they're already heading that way? They must be some cold-hearted folk in order to turn down such a simple request," Dutch explains.  "What will you and the others be doing?"  "We'll be hiding nearby, waiting for that opportunity to rob them. Once you're on board then they should hand over the cash, I don't see why they'd want a poor innocent woman to be hurt. Hosea will be waiting in Rhodes to bring you back to camp, and you won't need your guns for the job. A kind, working woman such as yourself wouldn't carry them anyway," Dutch replies with a grin, stubbing out his cigar with the toe of his shoes.  The plan seems simple enough, and what have you got to lose? So, you agree to the heist, heading into your tent so you can change your appearance to look like the average working woman. You dress in a simple skirt and shirt, your hair neat and your makeup simple, just how the women in Rhodes dress.  Arthur gives you a ride to the location, your horse staying back at camp, as well as your guns. You feel a little uneasy heading out of camp without them, but the boys are hiding behind what's left of a wall nearby. You overheard Arthur protesting with Dutch, saying they shouldn't be robbing folk so close to camp, but Dutch assured them that this would be fine.  Dutch has brought along Arthur and Lenny, and unfortunately, Micah, who still hasn't spoken a word to you, but his eye is now unfortunately better. Dutch didn't even mention to you that Micah would be coming along, seeing as your paths weren't meant to cross. This was meant to be a simple holdup job after all, only this gang seems to be cursed as things always go wrong.  You're walking along the road, acting as if you're exhausted. The sound of a wagon approaching can be heard, and you peer over your shoulder to see it coming into view. You begin to wave your arms, signaling for them to stop, and thankfully, they do.  "Are you alright, Miss?" one of the men questions, the one driving the wagon. There are two more men on horseback behind them, not many guns for a wagon that's carrying payroll.  "I do apologize to ask such a request but my horse bucked me a while back, I'm only trying to head into town. Are you heading that way? Would you be able to give me a ride?" you question. You play out the usual body language, slouched shoulders, batting your lashes, and pouting your bottom lip. This is a mans world, after all, but you know exactly how to play the game. The driver and the shotgun speak to themselves quietly, clearly bickering about the fact that they're carrying payroll, but they eventually come to an agreement.  "You're welcome to climb on the back of one of the horses, though we can't let you on the wagon, Miss," he replies. Well, that's good enough, at least you're still somewhat of a hostage. "Oh, thank you! I really appreciate it!" you smile sweetly, heading over to the nearest hired gunmen and climbing on the back, loosely holding onto his shirt as you get comfortable on the horse's rear.  They return to their journey, barely making it a few meters down the road when one of those slimy Lemoyne Raiders appears from behind a boulder and attempts to hold them at gunpoint. Your eyes peer over to where the gang is hiding and thankfully, Dutch steps in, one gun pointed at the driver and the other at the rival gang member. You're still unsure on what Lemoyne Raiders are. Inbred? Wannabe military? Either way, they're stupid enough to fire without warning, and completely miss Dutch, though Dutch doesn't miss him. The plan goes to shit and you're caught in the middle of the gang war, your gang and the Lemoyne Raiders fighting each other, as well as the wagon.  The gunman that you were holding onto slouches over his saddle, a bullet ripping through his side, thankfully missing you. You think Arthur had shot him, but either way, you're pushing his body off and stealing his horse, riding out from the commotion. What help are you now without your guns? It's best that you run away and fast. As you near the camp, you notice a small group of white hats approaching round the bend - lawmen, so you decide to keep riding forward towards Braithwait Manor, dipping off into the trees before they can notice you. You'll find somewhere to hide out until nightfall, riding through the thick forest until you find a shack down south, close to Shady Belle, but far enough from the commotion so the law shouldn't tread down here.  The stolen horse is hitched by a tree and you're about to head inside, but the sound of hooves approaching startles you. You hide behind the tree, not providing much cover, but hopefully enough so you can decide how to approach the incoming stranger. If it's a lawman then you can simply burst into tears whilst saying that the horse bolted and you couldn't steer it up into Rhodes, and if it's a fellow gang member then you'll be fine. Well, it is a gang member, just you were hoping for anybody but Micah. He slows Baylock to a halt as you come into his line of sight, stepping out from behind the tree looking like an angry kitten.  "You alright?" Micah asks, swinging his leg over the saddle and hopping off his mount.  "Go away, go find somewhere else to hide. Shoo," you wave your hands at him, only making Micah laugh instead. "What's a matter? Can't I hide here with you?" he questions as he approaches you.  "No, you can't. Go bother someone else, you're the last person I'd ever want to hide from the law with," you huff. Micah isn't budging, he continues to approach you until he's stood in front of you, grinning from ear to ear as he lets out that awful chuckle of his.  "You don't mean that. Besides, how're you gonna defend yourself without your guns, huh?" Micah questions, resting his hands on his gunbelt. "Well, you know that I can swing a punch, can't you, Micah?" you tease, giving him a smug smile which wipes the grin off his face, turning into a frown.  "And here I was just tryna look out for you. Nasty thing, aren't you?" Micah spits.  "I am, and I ain't welcoming to you, Micah," you huff again, resting your hands on your hips.  "Now, I'm gettin' real sick of the way you talk to me, girl. I ain't been nothin' but nice to you," Micah tuts, taking another step towards you. He's pressed up far too close to your chest, puffing his own out as his icy blue eyes scowl into yours. "You may be a big girl in the eyes of Dutch, but you ain't to me."  "I don't care, Micah. I don't need your approval, nor your company, so scram!"  This time, Micah goes for you, reaching out to grip ahold of your arm. He takes a firm grasp of you but before you can find out what he was planning on doing, you're pushing him away, shoving him back by the chest. He stumbles backwards but doesn't slump to the ground, catching his own fall as he glares at you. His death glare makes your face turn sour and you begin to foresee that one of you isn't going to make it back to camp. Micah lunges for you again, grabbing onto your shoulders as he begins to try and tackle you to the ground. You manage to shove him off and land a punch to the same cheekbone, only it's not enough to stop him. He continues to fight you, eventually managing to shove you to the floor. He tries to climb onto you, attempting to pin you to the ground but you land a swift kick to his baby balls. He lets out a choke as his body goes limp and you jump at the opportunity to shove him onto his back, pinning him down instead.  Micah attempts to grab onto you but you're quick, taking his own knife from its holster and pinning it beneath Micahs chin. He stops, freezing up and removing his hands from you, lying in the dirt with his swollen eye locked onto yours. There's silence, no words spoken from either of you, just heavy panting and the sound of the trees rustling. Micah licks his lips, tasting the blood that has trailed down from his nose, and eventually speaks.  "Go on, girl. Do it," he tells you, his Adam's apple bouncing against the blade as he speaks. You don't reply, so Micah jumps down your throat again. "I said do it! Show me what a big girl you are," he says with a laugh. "If I am to kill you then I'd rather do it with my bare hands," you spit at him, pressing the knife sharply on his neck. From the way Micah attempts to flinch back, you're certain you've managed to cut him. Good, he deserves it.  "Do it then. Go on, get rid of me already. Just do everyone a favour," Micah replies, his hands raising yet again, doing that generic innocent pose even as he has a knife held to his throat. As much as you'd love to, you know the consequences for killing other camp members. You could say he died in combat but Dutch knows that Micah can take on a bunch of Lemoyne Raiders with his eyes closed. Plus, it's far too suspicious for you to be the one breaking the 'bad' news. But you might as well scare some sense into Micah, maybe choke him unconscious then bail back to camp before he can wake. Hopefully, he'll finally get it into his thick skull to stay away from you, though you doubt it, but at least you'll have fun.  You remove Micahs own knife from his neck, stabbing it into the earth beside his head. He watches you with wide eyes, attempting to look at his knife but you grip onto his throat. You know how to choke someone to death, and you know how to choke someone unconscious, so you go for the second option and tighten your grip under his jawline, avoiding his windpipe so that he doesn't stop breathing.  He lets out a choked exhale as you begin jabbing your fingers into his throat, pushing more than hard enough to eventually knock his lights out. You know you look a mess, covered in dirt with scruffed up hair, a glare on your face that could easily kill a man; Micah looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, keeping his gaze locked onto yours as he attempts to breathe. You can hear the pressure on his throat with every breath, his lips remaining parted, blood still trickling from his nose, and his eye swelling up more by the second. His clothes are just as dirty as yours, his hat has fallen off his head a long time ago, his white pants are almost brown from rolling in the dirt, and his red shirt is missing a few buttons from where you've grabbed him.  Micahs parted lips quickly turn into a grin as his eyes begin to fall shut. You've never seen him pull a face like this, but he looks... pleasurable. He somehow has enough energy to reach up and grip onto the waistband of your skirt, trailing his fingertips along the band before settling each hand firmly on your hips. He's... enjoying this, isn't he? Your thoughts are confirmed when Micah opens his eyes again; his pupils are blown, wide and full of lust, gazing up at you like a piece of meat, ready to pounce on you (if he could.) You want to feel sick. Why don't you feel sick? Why isn't your stomach turning at the sight of Micah taking pleasure in your attempt to kill him? You push down harder on his neck, wishing you were gripping onto his windpipe instead. His smile eventually fades away, his eyes rolling shut as he lets out slower muffled breaths. His grip on your hips falls limp and you know he's finally unconscious.  This was meant to be the part where you run, heading back to camp before he can wake, praying he never even looks at you ever again. But you remove your hand from his throat, noticing how his body twitches as he begins to breaths properly again, and using the same hand that you just choked him with, you land a harsh slap right across his face. It's loud and sharp enough that it echoes throughout the forest, startling the horses and scaring a few birds away. You instantly regret your decision, your hand throbbing from how hard you slapped him, but the way Micah jolts awake gives you a sickly satisfaction.  He begins coughing, propping himself up on his elbows as he attempts to catch his breath. You don't move off him, sitting back on your knees, his legs beneath yours, watching in delight as he returns to the conscious word. Micah lies back down, his deep breaths eventually turning into a chuckle as his eyes meet yours.  "I knew you were just like me," Micah says with a sniff, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. His nose is still bleeding, turning his moustache red, and now his cheek as he's smeared his own blood across his face. "I knew you were sick..." he laughs.  "I ain't sick, Micah," you frown.  "If you ain't then you won't enjoy this-"  Micah somehow has enough energy to flip your bodies over, pinning you down to the ground, narrowly missing his knife that is still jabbed into the dirt. You attempt to push him off, trying to kick him in the balls again but he's pinned you down as well as you had pinned him down. He does exactly what you feared he'd do, wrapping his own rough hand around your neck, pressing on those spots under your jawline that you unfortunately enjoy.  You try and fight it, attempting to gulp down air, attempting to push him off. But the more you fight him, the more he holds you down, and the more you find yourself enjoying it.  "Give in to it, sweetheart. Just let it happen," he tells you, the words that you didn't want to hear, but only because they're sickly yet tempting.  Micah adjusts his grip and finally hits the nail in the coffin, your mind turning cloudy, the blood pulsating through your brain. That feeling in your stomach begins to burn, trailing down your body and making your pussy clench. You hate this man so much, yet you're allowing him to do this to you. "Atta girl," Micah praises you as you stop fighting him, letting your eyes shut and your mouth part.  You're weak enough for Micah to shift his weight, parting your thighs with his knees and sitting between them after he bunches your skirt up. One hand remains on your neck whilst the under sneaks underneath your waist, pulling your hips up onto his knees. His crotch pushes against yours, his hand trailing over your clothed thigh, moving up to your knee as he adjusts your legs so they're wrapped around his waist. For some reason, you cross your ankles, only encouraging him to grind his crotch against yours, rutting his hard-on against your pussy.  The mewl that escapes your lips is definitely accidental, but Micah tilts his head up to let out a hum of approval as he watches the colour continue to drain from your face. "Such a pretty sound coming from that pretty face of yours. You're goin' pale tho, darlin'. Least you ain't still spittin' venom at me," Micah smirks. The blood from his nose drips down onto your own face, painting your cheek, and the sight of his blood on you makes his pupils turn wide again, licking his lips as he finally removes his hand from your throat.  You gasp, gulping down air, letting out a few coughs as you manage to fill your lungs back up. Micah barely gives you enough time to come back to reality before he's crashing his lips against yours, pinning your hands on either side of your head, grinding his crotch down hard against yours. You let out a whimper as he manages to brush his crotch perfectly against your clit, making him chuckle against your lips as he kisses you. Are you kissing him back? Unfortunately so, but only because the taste of his blood on his lips is making your arousal grow, and he's grinding against you far too perfectly to ignore.  You eventually lap away at his blood, his nosebleed finally coming to a halt, and the feeling of his prickly moustache becomes more and more prominent. It's far too annoying for you to make out with him and ignore it, and it eventually irritates you to a point that you break the kiss.  "What'cha stopping for?" Micah pouts, halting his grinding for the moment. "Your 'stache is too long, it's itchy," you tell him.  "Well, I'll make sure it's trimmed for next time," Micah replies as he rolls his eyes. "There ain't gonna be a next time, Micah," you scowl back.  "Oh, that so?" Micah chuckles, doubting your claim. "Well, I'll just have to make this worthwhile," he informs you.  Micah moves his hands off your wrists, sitting up on his knees and pulling his knife out of the ground. He wipes the dirt off on his jeans then grips onto your undergarments, pulling the fabric away from your skin so he can slice down the crotch, ripping apart the garment and leaving a large hole right in the middle of them. "Micah!" you snap as you sit up on your elbows. "I'll buy you a new pair," Micah monotonously replies, a large lack of sympathy in his voice. You could have sworn he rolled his eyes as well. He holsters his knife and rips apart the hole even more, almost ripping the garment in two, exposing your pussy for his pleasure. Micah hums in appreciation as he gazes at the sight, pushing your thighs apart as he dips his head down and spits onto your folds. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it, and Micah picks up on the glisten in your eyes as he straightens his back up and begins to unfasten his pants, leaving his gunbelt on the ground beside you.  Micah pulls out his cock, an average looking one, rock hard and flushed pink at the tip. You're surprised that his pubes are neatly trimmed, just as dirty blonde as his hair, but he keeps his pubes neater for whatever reason. He ruts his cock over your folds, slicking himself up with his spit and your juices; to say you aren't wet is also a lie, you've been soaking the second he put his hand around your throat.  Micah finally pushes into you, slow and steady, letting out an "ooh" once he's fully sheathed inside of you. "It's always tighter if I don't finger you," he comments, licking his lips as he moves his hands underneath each knee, spreading your legs apart as far as he wants. Why are you allowing this man to fuck you? You're not sure, though you don't regret it, especially when he begins to thrust into you, surprising you with the way he rolls his hips, the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside of you with every thrust. If someone had told you this morning that you'd end up spending the evening with Micah Bell thrusting inside of you, after the two of you had had a fight and ended up aroused by it, then you probably would have punched them too after informing them that they're drunk. But here you are, allowing Micah to fuck you senseless, pounding you into the dirt as he lets out surprisingly pleasant sounds. "Shit!" you gasp as Micah shifts his weight, moving his hands off your knees to wrap around your waist. He pulls you up into his lap, lifting your ass off the floor and angling your body perfectly so he's directly hitting your g-spot with every roll of his hips. Micah's fucking you like a rabbit, fast and unforgiving, eager to make your walls tighten around him so he can fill you up with his cum.  Micah begins to bare his teeth, hissing through them as he pounds you. You're a moaning mess beneath him, not holding back on the volume of your moans as nobody is nearby, and your volume level is filling Micahs ego more and more by the second. "That's a good girl," he tells you, his hazy eyes meeting yours. "I always knew you'd be a good fuck, the feisty ones always are," he chuckles.  You roll your eyes at his comment, making him laugh instead. Ugh. That stupid laugh of his, the one he always drags out only because he knows it gets on everyone's nerves. You think fast, moving one hand back onto his throat to cut that dreadful sound out. His lips remain parted, slightly smiling as he continues to fuck you, enjoying that irritated glisten to your eyes. You tighten your grip on his throat, forcing a choked moan from Micahs lips. Micah's already hunched over you but you pull him down to your level, speaking right against his lips as you order him to "fuck me harder." "With pleasure," Micah manages to reply, gasping and straightening his back the second you let go of his throat. Micah keeps one arm underneath your waist, holding you firmly on his lap, whilst the other moves between your legs. His hand rests on your stomach, his thumb moving down to begin massaging your clit, flicking the bud in circles, his cock throbbing every time your muscles begin to shake. He's returned to letting out moans, followed by the occasional grunt through gritted teeth. You've seen Micah come undone before, you've seen that feral look in his eyes as he loses his cool and guns down an army of people. But this? This was a different look, just as feral but fueled by a mixture of lust and spite. Is he just using you for a fuck? Yes, but you're doing the same with him. And do you think you'll end up fucking him again? Possibly, but only if you can watch the life drain from his face again. It's sickeningly arousing, but Micah seems to enjoy it too. "You're gonna make me cum," you sigh, your thigh muscles beginning to shake, your eyes scrunching shut as your head rolls back in the dirt. "I know," Micah confidently replies, rubbing his thumb even firmer against your clit. What a cocky piece of shit, though you admire the confidence. You can't believe you're moaning his name as you orgasm, panting and shaking, wrapping your legs even tighter around Micahs waist as he pushes his cock deep inside of you and earns his own release. His hands grip onto your hips, his forehead eventually slumping on your chest as he pants and groans, filling you up with god knows how many months worth of cum, maybe longer, depending on whoever else has been stupid enough to sleep with him.  Micah eventually straightens his back and pulls out of you, letting your legs slip from around his waist as you untangle your body from his. He looks debauched, his hair and clothes scruffy and dirty, not to mention the dried blood smeared across his face and moustache. You're certain you look just as bad, spending your evening rolling about in the dirt with the man you hate the most. Hate? Or hated? as you somewhat like the sight of Micah like this. Maybe you could tolerate him under these terms, and only under these terms. You attempt to sort your appearance out as you stand up, stretching your legs, hearing your knees click after being bent for so long. Micah does the same as he pulls himself up, tucking his cock away then picking his hat up. He whistles for Baylock who had wandered off into the forest, probably not wanting to be around... that. The horse you'd stolen has managed to unhitch itself and disappear, and you honestly don't blame them, but that means the only way back is hitching a ride off Micah or walking for an hour.  "Looks like you're riding with me," Micah tells you. "I don't want to be seen trailing into camp with you, not when we both look like this," you tell him as he mounts Baylock.  "How's about I drop you off on the edge of camp then spend a few hours away? Would that make you happy?" Micah offers, holding out his hand at the same time.  "It would," you tell him, swatting his hand away and climbing up onto Baylock on your own terms. "So, you'll let me fuck you but won't even take my hand?" Micah chuckles as he clicks his tongue, letting Baylock go at a soft pace as you ride side-saddle.  "Yep, and don't forget that you owe me new underwear," you remind him.  "Oh, I won't forget to buy you some new panties, Miss. I'll buy you a whole set of lingerie if it means I get to cut it off your body," Micah teases but you know he's serious.  "If that's what you want," you reply with a shrug.  "You'd let me?" he questions, peering over his shoulder at you.  "I would," you reply. For some reason, you lick your thumb and attempt to wipe some of the dried blood from his cheek. Maybe the sight bothers you, but Micah doesn't seem to mind as he lets you clean him up, his eyes occasionally flicking onto the road.  "You wanna give me a kiss when you're done with cleaning me up?" Micah asks with a smirk.  "No," you frown, pushing his face away from yours. He laughs as he looks forward, returning his focus back to driving.  You and Micah don't speak another word on the short journey back, apart from a "thanks," from you as you slide off Baylock. He drops you on the edge of the forest, letting you walk down the path back into Clemens Point. You manage to sneak back into the camp; the only person who saw you in your state was Charles who simply said "I won't ask," when you gave him a look that said 'please don't.'  You feel much better once you've cleaned yourself up and got cozy in bed, though your body aches from fucking in the dirt, and you're almost certain you're going to have bruises around your neck by the time morning is here. But the fresh memory of having hate sex with Micah only seems to arouse you again; just like Micah said, you are sick, just as sick as him. But if this unspoken arrangement is a good way of letting out anger then why not continue it?  --------------- It's been a week since your accidental encounter with Micah. He's still not replaced your underwear, nor has he spoken a word to you, but you've picked up on those disgustingly arousing glances he sends you from across the camp. You've been tempted to chew his ear out about not paying you back yet, but he's not been in camp often, and when he has been in camp, it's been during the day and around others. The bastard knows what he's doing, and he definitely knows that you're still angry that he hasn't repaid you yet. You've been assigned guard duty tonight, doing lap after lap around the outskirts of the camp until 3am, which is when you can tap Bill awake and send him on his way to take over. Well, 3am is here and that's exactly what you're doing, prodding Bill awake and handing him the shotgun.  You somehow didn't notice that Baylock had appeared amongst the horses, but you do notice that distinct white hat on the edge of camp. Micahs stood on the beach, looking out at the water with his arms crossed, a cigarette between his fingers. Finally, the opportunity to chew his ear off. You stroll over, ensuring nobody else is awake, not wanting to question why you're eagerly approaching the man you despise.  "Micah," you greet as you stand next to him.  "There she is, just the girl I was looking for," Micah greets you as he exhales his cigarette smoke.  "You ain't looking for me, Micah. You're stood here having a smoke," you roll your eyes.  "I was hoping I would have fucked that attitude out of you. Seems I ain't fucked you hard enough," he says with a laugh. You peer over your shoulder, reminding yourself that nobody is awake, nor nearby, but you don't want to risk your chances. "We don't talk about that in camp, alright?" you threaten. "Fine, whatever you want," Micah shakes his head as he finishes off his cigarette, flicking it onto the floor and stomping it out. You're about to begin questioning him on your missing underwear but he begins to walk off, heading further along the beach.  "Where are you going?" you scowl as you follow him.  "Over here so I can sit down. Was gonna ask if you're joining me but it seems you are," he says with a laugh, leaning back against a large boulder. You frown at him but settle beside him, turning your attention to him again.  "I only came over here to ask you-"  "-s'on your bedroll," Micah tells you.  "What?" you question.  "That new underwear I promised, I've just placed it on your bedroll whilst you were on guard duty. Plus a little something extra to make up for how long you've waited for it," Micah answers, his eyes fixated on the water.  "Hmm..." you ponder, unsure if you believe him.  "What? Don't you trust me?" Micah questions as he finally looks over at you.  "Not at all," you scowl again.  "Well, you'll see that I'm telling the truth sooner or later. Go check now if you want, I don't care," he shrugs.  You stare at him again, trying to look for any signs of lying, but he gives you none; his nose doesn't twitch, his eyes stay glued to yours, he doesn't rub the back of his neck. Micah is probably telling the truth, knowing that you'll whack him over the head with a bottle next time you see him if he lies to you.  "See, told you I ain't lying," Micah snickers as he looks back out over the water. You don't reply, you just lean back against the rock and turn your attention to the landscape. Your brows remain furrowed, arms loosely crossed, enjoying the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, the moonlight only just providing enough light as you're far enough from camp.  A few minutes pass and Micah turns his attention back to you. "Why're you still here?" he bluntly asks.  "I ain't sure, I'm going to bed," you shrug. You begin to stand, barely getting off your ass when Micah reaches out and grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down onto his lap with a slight thud. "What do you want?" you snap, picking his hands off your waist in disgust, making him laugh at the sight.  "Just wanted to spend some quality time with my favourite camp member," he replies, though you're unsure if he's being sarcastic. "Well, you ain't my favourite," you huff.  "Always so feisty towards me, ain'tcha? What's wrong? You still hate me even after you let me fuck you?" Micah questions with a throaty laugh, grinning from ear to ear.  "I hate you even more now," you tell him, shuffling about on his lap until you're straddling him, one leg on either side of his hips, your chests almost touching.  "That'd explain why you've just got comfortable on my lap rather than walking away," Micah chuckles again, knowing he's damn well in the right. He slips his hat off his head, placing it on the ground beside him, not wanting it to get in the way. You let out a sigh as you roll your eyes. "Ain't I allowed to just take some attention from you, Micah?" you question, batting your lashes and removing the frown from your face.  "You're allowed to take whatever you want from me, s'long as I get something in return," Micah tells you as he wraps his arms loosely around your waist. "So it's agreed? That we'll just... enjoy this pity sex? But only because it lets off some steam," you place the offer down, finally trying to decide on this agreement.  "It is agreed, sweetheart. You can call it pity sex or whatever else you want, but maybe I'll just fuck you so good that you'll end up likin' me?" Micah chuckles, pulling you onto his lap more as he speaks to you in a husk tone. "I ain't your sweetheart and I ain't ever gonna like you, Micah Bell," you spit. "Sure you ain't," he grins. So, this is what it's come to. You're sleeping with the enemy, pity fucking the man you hate the most, allowing him to pry into your private life and between your legs just for a little bit of satisfaction. Do you care? No. Should you care? Probably. But you're getting pleasure, finally, after waiting for so long. The gang is always on the move, running from the law and whoever else is chasing you, depending on where you are and who you've pissed off. You've flirted with other gang members before but it's never escalated anywhere, so if sleeping with Micah means you'll finally stop humping your pillow every night then why not?  And maybe you can fuck some sense into him, maybe a bit of kindness of basic respect? You doubt it, but it'd be nice. A life where Micah isn't chaotic would be perfect, or one where he entirely didn't exist. But this is the way the world currently is, so you'll just have to make do with what you've got.  You're still going to bark back at him whenever he kicks up a fuss in camp. If anything, you're eager to put him in his place. Maybe you can punish him every time he steps out of line? Maybe this... enemies with benefits, or whatever you want to call it, could whip Micah into shape and prevent him from being such an annoyance towards everyone. Probably not, but you can still hope.  Micah tightens his grip around your waist as he lets out a pleasing hum, tugging you down to his level so he can kiss you. You're reluctant as his moustache was so irritating last time, but to your surprise, Micah has trimmed it to prevent the irritation, his 'stache brushing against your upper lip rather than prickling it. Micahs kisses are a lot more tender this time, not covered in blood and heavy breathing, not battling for dominance whilst both your minds are hazy from all that choking. Micah moves one hand up to entangle his fingers in your hair, cupping the back of your head.  Your lips soon slide open, your tongue greeting Micahs. He bites your bottom lip softly, letting the skin slowly slip from his grasp before kissing you again, earning himself a soft moan as you shuffle onto his lap more. Things are slowly turning heated, Micahs kisses getting sloppier yet firmer by the second, drawing more moans and whimpers from your lips as he continues to make out with you.  You pray that nobody has woken up, not wanting them to see... this. How would you attempt to explain this? Could you say you tripped and fell into Micah after not seeing him sat there, and you'd just accidentally kissed him on the way down? Could you say this way a new way of fighting, to show him what he's missing out on if he'd just be a good boy? Yeah, those excuses are rubbish. But you're sure you'd hear anyone approaching, not unless they're stealthy.  Micah moves his hands to your chest, unbuttoning your shirt, stopping at your lower ribs. He breaks the kiss so he can pull your shirt open, cupping each of your breasts and leaning his head into them. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking at it surprisingly gently, flicking his tongue over the nub, tenderly kissing it. His hand massages them, kneading them softly. Micah moves onto your other nipple, repeating the process, sucking on your tits as he lets out a satisfying hum.  "I ain't sure what my favourite part of you is, these things, or that nasty bite of yours," Micah says with a soft laugh between kisses. "Oh, you have such a way with words," you roll your eyes. "You know, I think we'd get along much better if you'd just tease me with these things in camp," Micah replies, returning his focus to your breasts. "I'll remember that in the future," you say, making a mental note. Maybe you could find a way to manipulate him? Using your womanly charm to tame this beast? It's a push but it's worth a try. He continues to suck at them, making your arousal grow, and you know he's getting aroused as you can feel it pressed against your thigh. Micah moves off your breasts and gently pulls your head down, enjoying another kiss, still tender, not the style you expected a man such as Micah to have.  Micah breaks the kiss, urging you off him. "Now, come on. Before I start thinkin' with my dick and fuck you right in the middle of camp. But you'd like that, wouldn't you, you whore?" he questions, buttoning up your shirt for you.  "You admit to thinking with your dick, yet I'm the whore?" you smirk, pointing out the flaw to his logic.  "Real smart, ain'tcha girl?" Micah mocks, shooing you off his lap once your shirt is fastened. Micah stands first, pulling you up afterward. His hand lingers for a little too long in yours, though you don't move your hand away either. He begins walking with you back to camp, readjusting his hat as he walks. Micah dips before you approach camp, not wanting to risk anybody latching onto your agreement. Thankfully, nobody is awake, but you head straight to your tent anyway. You fasten the tent flaps behind you, lighting your lantern, and begin getting ready for bed. You notice the tailor box on your cot and open it up, revealing the replacement underwear, as well as the 'little something extra' that Micah had promised you. It's a full set of lingerie, an expensive-looking set too, a frilly white chemise, corset, and stockings. The chemise is definitely that short for a reason; you wonder what Micah's planning, though he did say that he wanted to cut it off you. You hope to at least get some use out of it before he does that.

[yayamazin26]

Soooo while working in the city

I met this cutie

We were both apparently striving for a better position at work

And the way he always helps and never once told me no

Just confirmed me wanting him in my throat

It was after our lunch shift that he suggested we talk

We went for a walk

After work by the seaport

After a couple of drinks

Somehow we had a quarrel

It turned me on

The way he raised his voice

W such force and power

My panties were soaked

Right after he stopped and I noticed a few people looking

I kissed him on his lips

He smiled and said let’s leave this shit

What I proclaimed

Where are we going

He threw money on the table and grabbed me by both hands

As we jetted out

The uncertainty made me get butterflies

He said 3 blocks away there’s a spot

As I waited while he got the key

I could feel my nipples getting erect

He stood in front of me

And lead me towards the elevator by my neck

Yes was sooooo wet

We get to the floor and I’m ready to explore

He holds my waist and says

Tonight you are my little whore

I shake my head yesss

And he licks the back of my neck

Bites my cheek

Slaps my ass

Finally get to our room and once we’re in

Fucks me on the desk

Throws me to the bed

And tells me to give him head

So I suck deep throat and gargle his balls

He grabbed me by my hair

Now lay down on your stomach

Your new daddy is here

I’m excited and leaking w pleasant juices

He eats me from behind

Then puts he’s two fingers up my ass

And started to grind w his big thick cock

As I try to move my hips and whine

I just cave in to him

Yes fuck me

Fuck me hard

He grabbed my hips w both hands

Pulled me up so I’m on my knees and hands

Takes it out and admires my ass

He whispered I hope I can last

I giggled at the thought

But as he put himself back in my wet throbbing pussy

All my thoughts went away

He was so strong and it’s so long

I cried w joy and pain

Nothing has ever felt the same

He pushed down on my back as he held my hair

Pumping back and forth

In and in deeper than before

Call me your whore now

I said

He grabbed me by my throat and said

My whore you will always be from now on your body needs me

And god he was right

He fucked me straight for 3 months

And every night

He did it right

Sucked me dry as we got high

Off of coming at the same time

Wishing he was still mine

Damn his cock was fine

Just smooth thick and just the right size

Miss him between my thighs

[arc-77]

PROMPTS I'D LIKE TO RECEIVE, PART 1 (Not not-accepting!)

(Also sent in by @stubborn-amphibian and @viperofmandalore gosh this one was popular that's gotta say something about my chosen hyper-competent portrayal huh)

This prompt was surprisingly difficult, hence why I'm finally coming back to post it just over two weeks after the fact. The adversities that my Fordo faces are typically temporary, because I enjoy writing him as someone who rises to the occasion and triumphs. He's the best, the elite, he always knows what to do, after all. He does not know an unsolvable problem, he'll grind himself against it like an unstoppable force until it bends to his beskar resolve. Wish I had that!

But here's two long-lasting adversities that I think qualify for the question.

The first he faces is prejudice, and there's little he can do about something so innate. Being born as a clone trooper meant that he lacks the rights of citizenship under the Republic, that he's so often disregarded and dehumanized, not viewed as the individual he strives to be. He lacks legal agency, he's treated more akin to property than a living being. This is compounded once he's forced into the Dark Trooper program and modified with extensive cybernetics. Not only is he viewed by many as a lower-class, his very humanity is placed in constant doubt. It infuriates him, needless to say.

Were he not the driven, skilled individual that he was, Fordo would never have been able to establish himself as an Imperial Officer. It is only through his service to powerful individuals in Imperial Intelligence that he earns the privileges of an Imperial citizen and the legitimacy of being more than just a clone. Even still, this would do little to stop other, older officers from viewing him with suspicion. He can learn to ignore it, but the only way to truly escape it is to wait for the Clone Wars to fall out of living memory... something few clones will ever get to experience.

The second struggle is his independent nature, and the way it comes into conflict with the Empire's hierarchal systems. Alpha-Class ARCs are stubbornly independent, and they are prone to develop strongly-held beliefs. Fordo is very much an example of this. He doesn't merely believe he knows what's best, he knows he knows what's best. When Fordo sees the inefficient and poorly designed aspects of the Empire and its military, he wants to change them. He's full of criticisms, and that is an incredibly dangerous thing to be under such regime that previously viewed him as property.

Knowing when to carefully meter our those criticisms of established practices and when to fall in line is a constant challenge, perhaps the greatest of his career. He leads a precarious existence, one that he keeps afloat by continuing to produce impressive results. If the Empire hadn't begun to fall apart when it did, who knows how long it would have been before he made a fatal misstep and was cast down, disgraced. It's an eventuality he prepares for, because abandoning his nature is out of the question.

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

A Moment of Peace

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral (m & f), daddy kink, thigh riding, dom/sub, grinding, fluff, and some angst (I’m sorry it just happened I swear)

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: So I like to think I’m getting better at writing smut. We shall see. I also didn’t mean for some angst to seep through but I’m fucking terrible when it comes to that so I apologize in advance. The next chapter is a little filler one before the last two before hiatus. As always, requests, prompts, and taglist are open!

The Mandalorian’s Love Series

The Mandalorian could hear laughter. They were pure, chimed in a natural sense. Not completely sure on which planet he was on, Din inspected the green land laid out before him. Behind him was a cottage, beautifully decorated on the outside; he smelt hints of smoke in the air from the direction of it. There were fields and fields for miles, soft colors of flowers coloring patches around the fields. The air was fresh, and the distinct smell of rain was tanged in the sweetness of it, though the sun burned bright and heavy; his skin, beautifully tan, basked in the glow of it. This was a different kind of warmth, one Din had not felt in years; not as free now. He could feel it on his face too, and the simple feel of the rays terrified him at first. Din was shocked to see skin when he looked down at his hands. There were no gloves – considered to be second skin by nature – no helmet, no beskar armor or a weapon’s belt.

Before he could get over his shock, he heard his name being called out from afar.

“Go get him!”

It was Y/N. Even as disoriented and confused as he was now, the sound of her voice was enough to make him snap back.

He couldn’t get a good look of her though when two small figures abruptly tackled him with a giant hug. They giggled as he ‘oofed’ and nearly fell back.

“Hi daddy!” They said in unison.

Daddy. They called him dad.

“Hey, go easy on the old man!”

Din snapped his head up towards the tease. Y/N stood there, smiling that beautiful toothy smile that made him smile in return without fail; she was wearing a light blue dress, stopping just barely above her kneecaps. Her Y/C/H pulled in a half bun, Y/C/E still holding that gleam that Din could only describe as being solely hers; mesmerizing, unwavering.

The two moving kids still in his arms brought his attention back to them. On his right side was a girl, about near eleven years old, who resembled Y/N so much that it was scary; but there was no denying Din was there too, with the same pouty lips and small dimples. To his left, a boy, who looked to be six or seven; he definitely got his looks from his father, hair and eyes just as dark as Din’s, but somehow, he had Y/N’s smile.

“What’s wrong dad?” The boy asked.

They both pulled away to look at him, and Din found that he already missed their little arms wrapped around him.

“Uh,” he had to clear his throat. “N-nothing. Just… feeling a little off is all.”

Y/N pursed her lips, obviously seeing through the lie. Not that it was a complete one anyway.

“Go run around a little, kids, we’ll join you guys in a minute.”

They both screamed with excitement and ran down the small hill leading to the field. Y/N strolled to Din’s side, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was natural instinct to lay his hands on her hips to bring her closer.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered gently.

Din should’ve shuttered at the constant feel of her skin against his like this, under the warmth of the sun and the feel of wind breezing between them; unfiltered and no defining barrier between them. He never felt this kind of stimulation before all at once, the sensory overload being nearly too much and yet he was so calm, so used to the feel of it at the same time. It was like switching back and forth between this Din Djarin and the old Din.

He wanted to say that they didn’t have this. That there was no possible way they could have this, at least not now. That maybe this was too good to be ever be real, because Y/N always deserved much more than what he could give her, and yet she still stayed, and she was still in love with him. That, he would never be able to really understand how or why, maybe not until Din was absolutely sure this is a reality for them.

Instead he said, “Nothing I’m just… I’m just happy.”

And that was true. His doubts, fears, and any insecurities they haven’t battled yet could all say that this was impossible for someone like him, but this moment of peace and content is enough to say that he can have a peaceful and happy life, so long as Y/N was still a part of the picture. He always prided himself on his independence, but he wanted to depend on Y/N, or more specifically their love; no matter how tragic or bitter, though he never wanted to think about it, their relationship could ever end, he would still want her love because it would always be a part of his happiness for him. It would always hold the part of him that finally felt worthy of the peace he longed to capture, that was capable of good and change.

Y/N grinned at him, pecking his lips softly. Din chased her lips, going in for a more slow kiss, mapping out her mouth as if this was the first; missed her taste.

She broke it with a soft giggle, placing a hand on his chest; his heart thudded softly against her palm.

“Now Djarin,” she drawled with a poke to his nose. “Save that for later,”

Din laughed and gave the tip of her nose a sloppy kiss, grinning even more at her squished expression.

“Yes, my lovely wife.”

They both turned to watch the boy and girl run around the meadow, giggling and screaming. Din smiled softly at the sight and hugged Y/N closer.

Din gasped. The first thing he felt was the soft scratchiness of his blanket against his face. The room was pitch black. The bed was cold, empty without Y/N. The hatch door was closed, but he could still hear the faint sounds of her voice, no doubt talking to the Child. He slowly sat up, feeling around blindly for his helmet as sleep was still evading his mind. When his knuckles brushed up against it he hesitated to put it on, remembering the dream and how free he felt. It shook him to the core, the hesitation; how far he was willing to go to get what he desperately desired.

He didn’t bother putting on his boots as he trudged off the cot, rolling and stretching his muscles; they were usually tense from the armor and the stiffness of the cot, and it seemed to be getting worst with age.

“Hey!” He heard the soft coo of her voice.

Walking towards the fresher, his heart stopped at the sight before him. Y/N was on her knees, hair pulled back in a bun and a bucket of water next to her, gently splashing water onto the giggly Child. The Child bent down to try and splash the water back and Y/N had to grab him before he could flop on his face. He found himself smiling at them, leaning against the doorway.

His wide brown eyes found him first. He raised his little green hand towards him, cooing at him. Y/N turned her head around, smile bright and whole.

“Hey,” she greeted. “There’s some food for you by the cockpit. Eat while I finish up here.”

Y/N wished she could see the smile that she didn’t doubt for a second crossed across his cheeks in that moment. She naturally leaned into his touch as he caressed her cheek, hands bare for now. He gave a gentle swipe across her cheekbone and bent down – she bit down her giggle at the creaks of his bones as he did, the soft, quiet grunt that quickly followed – to give the baby’s ear a soft caress of his own.

“Alright big guy,” Y/N exclaimed. “Let’s actually clean you up.”

The Child babbled back, plopping down on his little butt and going back to splashing. Y/N didn’t mind the water that spilled over her clothes. She washed the little gray hairs on his head gently, making sure none of the soap got into his eyes. After he was clean she let him play for a few more minutes in the water; he needed this, just as much as Y/N and Din needed this small but perfect moment of peace.

They were on a backwoods planet, nearly no habitants on the small, gray planet. It wasn’t the most ideal, but it would take at least a day or two before their signal was traceable again. There were on day two of their stay and would have to start moving as soon as night fell.

This was the first time since she started travelling with him where they could actually sit and relax, even for a little bit, without the threat of every bounty hunter known in the galaxy hovering over them. Y/N had to force Din to sleep the night before, because she was one-hundred percent positive that there were definitive dark circles under his eyes; the sluggish way in which he started to move and talk proved right.

He refused to sleep until she was next to him, wrapped up in her arms. She held him to her chest, gently messaging and scratching his back. His soft groans and sighs of content made her heart tighten, in such a good way, though it felt as if it was going to implode; she knew it was never going to go away. Din no doubt could hear it but chose not to say anything about it much to her relief. He needed to rest, and this was probably the only time he would be able to like this for a while.

It made her feel angry, and even more defensive and protective of him. He was on his own for so long before her and the Child came into the picture, and Y/N strived to make sure that he knew that no matter what, she was here now; that he could relax a little, could rely on someone else without the fear of them leaving.

The Child, now cleaned and clothed, snuggled into his pod, snuggling into his makeshift blanket. Din and Y/N only found out recently that the baby slept better with the scent of them pressed against him, so an old, tattered sweater of hers laid out underneath him as padding and one of his shirts laid atop the Child’s blue blanket.

Y/N gave him a small kiss on the forehead, smiling as his beady eyes shut. The kid was going to be out for a while, Y/N and Din having tired him out by playing various little games with him until his eyes started to droop.

Y/N saw a side to Din that was new to her as they played with the Child. She always knew he loved the green creature, despite how much he could get annoyed with him. There was never a time where Din wasn’t gentle with him, and, though he could have a temper, never ever raised his voice at him when the Child would mess with the switches or spill something on the ship or in a cantina. Din was patient with him, and during the games nothing by playful – it came out awkward at first, testing the waters – but eventually he couldn’t hide the small laughter that mixed with the Child’s own giggles. Y/N fell even more in love with him if that was possible.

But now, as Y/N sat on the edge of the bunk, she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that washed over her. They had to get rid of the imp responsible for the bounty over the Child’s head. Otherwise, they would never stop coming for him. She knew that this was logical, but the eeriness of the situation was starting to plague her now more than ever. Tomorrow they would travel back to Sorgan in need of Cara Dune’s aid and Y/N was happy to be seeing Cara again. She just wished that she could shake this feeling off.

Unbeknownst to her, Din was feeling the same way. He knew how dangerous and risky this plan was, but it was for the Child, and possibly the only chance they’ll ever get at ending this whole thing. Whoever was after him was persistent, dangerous all on its own. Y/N was already stressed enough, so he didn’t tell her that he was completely unsure on if he was going to make it through this. Not to say he’s never felt this before; in almost every single job he took, he kept in the back of his head that this day could very well be his last. It didn’t bother him as much when he was alone. But now the thought of leaving Y/N and the Child stirred fear deep into his core. He was aware that Y/N could take care of herself and the baby without him, and that alone always made him feel better when there were blaster shots grazing him or knives being thrown at him. Because he wouldn’t be leaving them behind underprepared and no defenses.  

And the dream? It certainly didn’t help the situation. Never once did he ever imagine himself as a father until then, until Y/N. Truth be told, Din liked the fights. Maybe it’s because he was raised into it, but he often found himself hesitating when it came to family. He chalked it up to fear, which wasn’t a lie on its own.

He didn’t remember finishing up the last of his still warm meal. Didn’t remember making his way to the bunk, mindlessly searching for his love.

“I’m sorry,” Din apologized, sitting down next to her, shoulders pressed tightly against each other. “For sleeping for so long.” He added at her frown. The moon was already almost up.  

Y/N shook her head, placing a hand on his knee. “Nothing to apologize for. You needed it.” She gave his knee a soft squeeze.

Din could only nod. She felt the way his muscles relaxed at her touch and the way his shoulders sagged. Times like these were where Y/N could really see just how exhausted and aged he was. When he didn’t have the strength to hold himself back, his true colors shown brightly; most times they were sad, lonely. Only the comfort of her warm hugs and melodic voice could soothe them away, make them disappear like the sun does with the clouds.

“You do too,” he finally whispered back.

Y/N gave him a stern glare. “You let me sleep all the time.”

The look in her eyes told him not to argue. He decided that it was best he didn’t. Their time seemed precious now, and he didn’t want to waste it with arguing. Instead he wanted it all. He wanted her to see him in the light, allowing her to feel him without the use of the dark, hands searching blindly. He wanted to spend what could be their last peace inside her, around her, just everything that you can do to be as humanly tied; tethered by a strong, unbreakable thread, two souls embracing with the stars above them. He could no longer deny her the sight of him.

But the Creed. It was a constant reminder of the oath he was sworn into, the people that took him in and raised him when they didn’t have to. He thought back to the dream, the clear, alluring atmosphere that surrounded them. Din wanted it more than anything in the world. It’s just the timing was all wrong. He needed it to be perfect, for when they were both ready to settle down and out of danger. He realized as this being slightly selfish, and that Y/N had just as much as a right as he did. But he owed the Mandalorians that much.

“I – I want to try something new.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. She saw that he was deep in thought and that something was bothering him, but she knew better than to push. He’d tell her when he was ready, always.

“Close your eyes.”

His voice was gruff, heavy even behind the decoder. Y/N didn’t hesitate to close them, breath even as she heard the shuffle of him getting up and closing the Child’s pod. She heard the hiss of the helmet being taken off, the rustle of his clothes being pulled off. Din couldn’t help but swoop in for a kiss, then a small peck before placing the helmet back on.

“Open them.”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she opened her eyes. Her lips parted at his body, shed of all clothing. She always felt the soft muscles on his arms and back, the soft fat of his stomach – still holding strength and just as beautiful to her – but to actually see him bare to her like this. It made her want to cry, because this was a big deal for the Mandalorian. Because he trusted her, loved her, wanted her.

He was nervous at first but seeing the way her eyes shined with awe and then lust, exploring every inch of him, not only relaxed him, but it made him incredibly hard. Y/N trailed down his stomach, soft patches of curls that lead down to his sprung dick, which she had to smirk at. She stood up, hands reaching up to lay on his shoulder and chest. She wanted to kiss him, but she knew the only way to do that was to either blindfold herself or complete darkness, and she was too intoxicated at seeing what she was only aloud to feel.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Y/N found herself whispering. Din sighed, outlining her lips with the tip of his finger. He really, really wanted to kiss her.

Y/N’s leg brushed up against him as she pulled her shirt over her head, making him let out a hiss through his teeth. She smiled in apology, wrapping her hand around his length and giving it a slow but firm pump.

“Lay down,” she whispered by his ear. It made him shiver, and he did as he was told. His hands laid on his sides, itching to touch himself.

Y/N was starting to breathe heavily as she shimmed her pants down her legs, kicking them off as if they were an insult. She was just as naked as he was when she crawled over him, straddling his right thigh. They both sighed as her wet pussy rubbed against the meat of his leg. Her hands trailed down his arms, down his chest. He tensed his thigh when her fingers brushed playfully against his nipples, grunting. The sound made her whine, hips rolling on their own accord. The hairs of his leg felt divine on her bundle of nerves, tickling her in a delicious way.

She smiled devilishly and ducked down. Her lips met his collarbone, biting down and sucking until there was a purple mark. Din moaned softly and rolled his leg up in time with her hips, making her nip at his chest, just above his left nipple. She kissed it before enveloping it in her mouth. He cursed and bucked his hips up against her stomach. She let go with a pop, trailing more kisses down his stomach until she settled herself between his legs. Y/N groaned at the loss of his leg under her, but she had to taste him.

Din looked down just in time to see her envelop his entire dick in the cave of her mouth, gagging as the tip of him hit the back of her throat. He moaned loudly, cursing and clutching a handful of her hair. His hips stuttered up, and she had to tap his hip to let him know to take it easy. Her hand gripped what her mouth couldn’t fit, sucking lightly at the head of his cock. His grip on her hair loosened only a little, the other holding the hand that was now on his thigh.

Y/N pulled up for air, a trail of saliva trailing from his dick and her mouth. She kissed up the length of his girth as she continued to pump him slowly. He almost came when she sucked lightly at the skin of his balls. He pulled her before she could continue, taking in her shiny lips and watery eyes. It was a sight he would fully commit to memory. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips moving against his in perfect symphony, needed to have her taste lingering in his mouth and –

“Ow!”

Din did not estimate just how close she was before going in for a Mandalorian’s kiss, banging his helmet against her forehead.

“Shit I’m so sorry!” Din fretted, petting her head back to check for any forming bumps or bruises.

Y/N laughed on top of him, shaking off his concern and going in slowly for what he failed to attempt. They both closed their eyes at the contact, though Din could not feel it. She stared into his eyes through the T of his helmet, kissing where his lips would be.

Din lightly trailed his nails down her spine, making her arch her back, her own hands caressing the skin of his stomach; they tickled down his sides, making him squirm.

They both took their times exploring each other. Y/N lost herself in the language of their caresses, untainted and honest. Din couldn’t get enough of it, the feeling of her against him, the way he felt the goosebumps rise on her arms. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get quite used to it.

He used the grip on her hips to line her dripping entrance over his dick, watching intently as she lined herself up and sunk down ever so slowly until his length until he was fully sheathed inside her. They moaned loudly at the feel of each other; the stretch of him left her pulsing around him, velvet slick walls begging to be used and filled up.

Y/N finally gave an experimental roll, moaning at the curls that scratched her pulsing clit. Din moved in sync with her, rolling his hips up as hers came down, hitting her as deep as possible; she wouldn’t be surprised if you could feel him in her stomach.

He was hitting the soft, spongey spot inside her repeatedly with every thrust, leaving her moaning and whining any chance she drew breath. Their pace was hard but slow, dragging out their pleasure. He clenched his teeth, wanting to go faster but needing to fuck her slowly.

“I want to kiss you,” you pleaded softly. “Please, Din, baby.”

Din moaned and eventually nodded, waiting for her to close her eyes tightly before he tugged the helmet off and yanked her down; their teeth clashed, and it did hurt but they didn’t pull away.

“Shit -.” He broke the kiss with a groan when she swiveled her hips. “F-fuck keep doing that, beautiful. Just like that.”

Y/N did, the friction against her folds a little painful and utterly amazing. Her teeth scraped against his neck, just under his jaw. He bared himself to her, inviting her.

She wondered how she survived the fire that burned in lower stomach, how she could ever live without the feel of Din’s cock hitting her g-spot to near perfection every time he was inside her. It was too much and not enough.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Din continued to moan. He palmed her breast, gripping it tightly. “These tits? They’re mine,” he snarled.

It was hard to keep her eyes shut at the dirty talk. It was making her wetter, and Din already almost slipped out of her pulsing cunt once from the sheer slickness of it.  

He abruptly flipped her onto her back, covering her eyes quickly with his hand before she accidentally opened them in surprise. His thrusts remained slow and powerful, propping one leg around his waist and the other on his shoulder.

“This pussy? This beautiful, dripping cunt is mine,” he growled.

Y/N cried out – almost pornographically – and gave a weeping cry when he pulled out of her.

His hand was still over her eyes, and she could hear him breathing heavily; his hand gripped her thigh painfully hard, but she said nothing.

“I -.” He gulped, running a hand over his face. “I wanted to take this slow. But - ”

“Fuck me,” Y/N interrupted. “Please daddy, fuck me.”

His eyes widened, and hers would’ve as well. This was a kink never discovered or discussed until now, and she held her breath as she waited for his reaction. Without so much as a warning he plunged deep into her, making her body shift upwards and her mouth open in a silent cry. His pace was hard and unforgiving, her tits bouncing furiously and hands gripping onto his biceps; her nails dug in sharply enough to draw blood, but he didn’t mind. The pain only increased the pleasure, both going hand in hand with the drag of his rigid cock across her sensitive walls.

He thought back to the dream. The thought of her belly round with their growing children was enough to make his hips stutter, for some primal urge to overtake him. With her hips in his grip again, he bounced her on his cock, grunting at the nonsense babble that was dribbling out of her mouth.

Din started to mumble what she could only describe as praises above her in Mando’a. He had started to teach her the language of his people only recently, so she was still fairly new to the language. She would have to ask him what he said later.

“Gods Din,” she moaned wantonly. “I’m gonna –‘

He jackhammered his hips into hers, and Y/N was sure that this was it, this was going to fucking destroy her and she’d let him over and over and over again. Her mind was a fog as the pool in her stomach started to coil, walls clenching furiously around him.

“Your pleasure is mine,” Din grunted. “Maker, you can feel it too, can’t you?”

Y/N could. She knew just how much Din loved her and the Child. Knew how much he hated the thought of them in any type of danger. And the longing. Yes she felt that as well, for a life akin to peace and normality. It was new for Din, awkward even, as it was for Y/N. It was a tread they would have to cross carefully.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh yes Din! F-fuck I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

His mind zapped to when she got shot, how scared – no petrified – no. There is no word to properly describe how he was feeling that night. He could’ve lost her if the shot was just a few inches to the right, and he wanted to say everything his heart wouldn’t let him spill, and it fucking hurt him.

“I love you too!” Din gasped. He tasted salt on his lips; he didn’t even notice he was crying. “Damn it, how could I not?”

Y/N dug her nails into his skin as her orgasm was fast approaching, his admission only making her wail. They were music to her ears, and she was so fucking happy she heard them before blood started rushing into her ears.

“Shit princess I feel you,” he growled. “I’m gonna cum in that t-tight little pussy. Fill you up so good that you’ll feel me for days.”

The thumb on her clit triggered her release. Y/N croaked out a mix of a moan and a scream, her pussy tight and throbbing around his dick, still thrusting. He fucked her through her orgasm, and when he felt the familiar pool he kissed her sloppily, tongue twirling with hers in an erotic dance.

“I’m fucking cumming,” he growled.

Y/N fisted his hair, licking around his earlobe before biting down on it.

Din let out a deep, loud grunt mixed with a snarl that was downright sin and gave one hard final thrust before she felt the warmth of his cum deep into her cervix. He was right, she would feel him for days, seeping out of her.

He gently placed her leg down and propped himself up on top of her, careful not to crush her. Their hairs were a fucking mess, tangled and mused. He found it to be gorgeous on her.

“Is it… is it okay if I stay? I just… I just want to feel you.”

Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, and kissed his head sweetly, eyes still closed. Din kissed her once, twice, then three before burying his head in her chest, arms wrapped under her.

He said it he said it he fucking said it.

She didn’t question the taste of salt on her lips from when he kissed her, or the way his cheek was cracked and dry from the tears. She knew him well enough to know the meaning behind them.

“I think you should call me daddy every day,” Din mumbled into her skin, pushing her away from her thoughts.

Y/N laughed and could feel the grumble of his. “Okay, daddy,” she teased with a sultry voice.

Din groaned and lightly slapped the side of her ass. “Damn fucking right.”

She hummed and scratched his scalp, relishing in the afterglow. After a few moments Din shifted, causing them both to squirm from the short burst of pleasure. She was still very sensitive, and when he pulled out of her slowly she couldn’t help but hiss and whine at the loss.

He started to pepper kisses down the slope of her stomach, nipping at her hip bone before kneeling down at the edge of the cot. His hot breath hovered over her quaking pussy, her juices and his cum leaking out of her.

“Oh Din, I don’t – fuck!”

Din licked a broad stripe up her cunt, moaning at the combined taste of their cum. Y/N’s thighs immediately started to shake and quiver around his head, whining and moaning pathetically. She thrashed when he attached his lips to her clit, giving it a powerful suck.

“Fuck Din I’m – I’m gonna cum again!” It was breathless, high pitched, and fucking music to his ears.

He groaned into her, lapping up every ounce of her release before crawling back up to catch her lips with his. He tasted sweet, tangy and salty.

“You have one more in you, princess?” He whispered hoarsely into her open mouth.

Y/N nodded desperately. She could see white flashes behind her eyelids, dancing through the pleasure.

She felt him line himself up at her now definitely swollen lips, only letting the tip of his cock into her, teasing her.

She gave him the best glare she could give considering her state, which made Din chuckle darkly.

“What is it sweetness?”

That motherfucker. She tried rolling her hips, but he held down with a firm palm on her belly. Y/N huffed.

“Please daddy, please fuck me. I want your big dick inside me, daddy. Please,” she begged.

She was awarded with a slow thrust into her gaping heat. All the air seemed to leave her body, chocking on what little of it she had left before he pulled all the way out to the tip before thrusting back in. She felt the cot dip as he covered her body with his, grinding into her.

This was soft, slower than what had just taken place before. He caressed her eyebrows, cheeks, lips as his own lips sucked a mark onto her pulse point. Each shift of his hips brought a new sense of euphoria to the both of them, the chorus of soft moans filling the air.

“I really do love you,” he whispered, forehead resting against hers. “More than life itself. And I’m so fucking sorry that I don’t tell you enough, th –.“ He paused when she clenched around him, cursing under his breath as his hips sped up. “That I’m holding you back. Nothing could ever compare to your love, my sweet, sweet Y/N.”

Y/N hated it, but she started to cry. “You’re not holding me back,” she whimpered. She tugged his hair back to give him a sloppy kiss, their orgasm’s near.

“You could never do that to me, Din. And you don’t have to tell me with words. Fuck you s-show me every day. When you let me sleep in, listen to my stupid stories, the way you pay attention to me. You fucking bought me that pin at that stupid market we stopped at twice because you remembered that it reminded me of my mother.”

They both let out small chuckles at that, breathless and so so close. His pubic bone was shifting just right against her clit. Din’s hands slivered over the sides of her breasts, palming her ass and lifting her up to meet his thrusts.

“Gods daddy, make me cum,” Y/N cried.

“Daddy is gonna take care of you,” Din promised. “Always gonna.”

It was amazing, the whiplash between something so honest and heartfelt to something so fucking filthy. But hey, it worked for them.

“Ca -  can I cum on your tits?” Din suddenly asked. It came out nervously, slow. She’d let him do anything to her and thank him afterwards.

“Of course, daddy,” she purred.

“Then play with your pretty pussy.”

He didn’t need to tell her twice. She reached down between them and with a few flicks of her finger she came hard around him. He pulled out with a growl, pumping himself vigorously before grunting loudly, thick ropes of cum spraying across her chest.

“Shit you - .”

They both giggled. Y/N gathered up some of the cum onto her finger and hummed at the taste of him. If only she could see the way his dark eyes lit up.

He reached around, grabbing an old used cloth to clean her chest before collapsing next to her.

“Just give me a minute,” he grunted before she could open her mouth to speak.

Y/N could only nod, her throat becoming sore from the screams. She felt satisfied, her body spent. Din eventually got to his feet, dressing himself slowly as he helped Y/N do the same, giving her a kiss before placing the helmet over his head. It felt heavier now. She checked on the Child as he climbed up the ladder to the cockpit. Bringing the sleeping child up with her, she laid him down in his makeshift seat as Din started the ship.

“Hey,” she whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders, now covered in beskar. “We’ll be okay.”

He remembered he said the same thing to her before she got shot. But this time, this time he believed it, because she did. Because he had to, for all of their sakes.

“I know.”

   Tags: @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @outlawers​, @hejahockey​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody​, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​, @angel-hunter-winchester​, @tedpicklez​, @momc95​, @sailorflowermoon​, @creatingjana​, @stories0fhope​, @pascalisthepunkest​, @coffeeandtodd​

[perish-after-dark]

Act of Submission

Pairing: Top!GP! Mothra x Bottom! Ghidorah

Summary: It is Ichi’s turn to pick a partner for the evening, and of course he just had to pick her. 

There was no reason to be here like this. Or at least, that’s what the outer two heads believed. But for the center head, Ichi, this is the exact place he wanted to be. They tried to convince him otherwise, but he bit back via saying that he endured their sexual adventures with their selected lovers, so now it was his turn. 

“This...is unusual,” Ni comments as Ichi makes their legs spread. The center’s eyelids were lowered as his pupils stayed focused on his selected partner. Here they were, on their back with their belly exposed and private offered. And offered to who? Why that blasted Mothra! 

Ichi purrs as their tail wags beneath them. He always wanted her. But while his brothers strive for being on top, he felt the urge to be below her. To take her. To let her inside of him. And now that urge if being addressed and met. 

“Mothra~” Ichi whimpered as she landed in front of him, her blue eyes scanning his shared body up and down. He loved it. 

“Heh, excited to see me?” Her cocky tone made him moan. 

“Yess,” He spread those legs wider, showing off the moist slit that was damp with anticipation. “So excited~”

She chuckles and looks at the other two heads. 

“Are they excited too?” 

“Pfft,” Kevin spits. “Not like we have a choice.”

“Yeah,” Ni adds. “Honestly do you think YOU can compare to us? We’re the ultimate top.” 

Mothra gives the equivalent of a smirk as she lays herself on their body, yet not letting out her sexual device. She crosses her arms and stares down the three heads with an intense glow. Ichi moans under his breath.

“I’d like to have you know that I have rendered your precious bird AND the all mighty king to begging bitches in heat. Being a bit smaller does have it’s perks. More manageable positions and swifter thrust. I’ve had Rodan’s belly pumped. And Gojira couldn’t walk right for a week. I also so far hold the record of releasing the most genetic fluids, something bottoms really like,” She winks. “Now, how’s that for a comparison.” 

Her rough yet blunt tone made Ichi want to be pounded into nothing. And his brothers, well, blushed a little. Though they still don’t like this. She could just be making this all up after all. They did agree that if she did a bad job that they’d never be obligated to bottom like this again. 

“Hah, Mothra please fuck me already,” Ichi quivered. Mothra smiled, extending her tool and shifting down just a bit to where the two sensitive parts met. 

“I’m still considering,” She responds, grinding her length against that slit. Ichi threw his head back and whined. Kevin and Ni turned their heads and used their wings to cover the blush on their faces.

“M..ma’am please,” Ichi groaned. “Oh please fuck me. Ah, I want it so bad~” 

“Aww,” Mothra cooed, rubbing her head against their chest. “Heh, okay. Since you asked nicely and admitted it.” 

“Hah! Ooooh god~ Nghhh,” Ichi moaned out loud as Mothra pushed in. Damn, she was bigger than they thought. Kevin sucked in his breath while Ni just huffed air out his nose. They refused to moan or show any signs of enjoying this.

“Hey boys,” Mothra sang. “This is required audience participation.” She pulled back and pushed back in, hitting against their tender insides.

“Mothra,” Ichi cried. “Oh, Mothra, please. Oh breed me~” 

Kevin had to bite back his moan as Mothra responded to Ichi’s plea with a powerful thrust. But also because of Ichi’s sweet moans. Call him weird, but the combination of her humps and the center heads moans turned him on. 

“C'mon you two,” Mothra teases. “I want to see your faces.” She slams in hard, beating against their sweet spot directly. 

“OH GOD!” Kevin finally screamed, joining in on the uncovered cries. 

“Fuck boys, your body tightened up for me,” Mothra leans down and whispers. “You want it so bad.”

“Yes,” Kevin said before Ichi, catching the latter off guard. “I want it. I want it hard please Mothra~” 

“Mmmm perfect, two out of three,” She turns her gaze to Ni, who’s still covering his face with his wing. Mothra smirks, keeping her eyes on him as she speeds up her thrust. The other two heads moan like the sluts they are but Mothra is trying to get at least a whimper out of the last one. 

“Playing hard to get, baby?” Mothra slams in deep and grinds her body against theirs, rubbing her length against their inside with a rhythmic motion. 

“Ah~” Ichi musters up just as Kevin places his head under his chin. Both their eyes are shut due to just how damn good it feels. 

“C’mon Ni,” She eggs on, pulling out some. “I’ll stop if I don’t hear you.”

“F..fuck-” Ni finally says, giving up on his useless attempt at hiding just how good she is doing. She smiles and resumes fucking them like there’s no tomorrow. 

“Hah yes! I love you! I love you so much please!” Ichi cried loudly, toes and legs shaking. 

“Breed us,” Kevin moaned. “Breed please.”

“Cum inside~” Ni added. “Fill us up~” 

Mothra had once again reduced a headstrong male into her beta bitch. And she loved it. She wrapped her arms around their sides and hugged close. Then, she lifted herself out. The three heads begged her to come back in, but she winked before using all her strength to send in her most powerful blow.

“MMMMPHH!”

“YESS! YESS YESS YESSS!!”

“OOOOOH GOOOD~!”

The three-headed being climaxed first, spraying their clear fluids against her shaft. She grinned and kissed each head sweetly on the lips. Well, she did turn back to Ichi and placed her front pair on his head, keeping him kissing her. He didn’t mind of course. 

Mothra increased speed and power as she kissed him. The other two heads whimpered and moaned more and more as Ichi’s only sign of enjoying this was his eyes rolling in the back of his head. 

And then she climaxed. She removed her mouth and tongue from his own so she could hear the sweet chorus of their reaction to being filled. Her tongue hung from her mouth as she watched them cry out again. 

“Hah fill us up~”

“Oh get us fat with your babies~” 

“Don’t pull out~” 

Mothra sang to them. She felt her body convulse and pulse as she released her essence inside them. They stayed still for a moment, waiting for her load to empty. In the meantime, each head nuzzled against her and purred. 

When she pulled out, the entire party moaned. Her shaft disappeared back into her body. Yet a part of her wanted it to come back out. 

Ghidorah’s slit was dripping her fluids, and her heart tightened at that sight. It was once tightly sealed and now slightly gaped. Ghidorah looked down at her with love in their eyes. 

“Keep giving me those eyes and I’ll have no choice but to fuck you again.” 

Of course, they kept giving her those eyes. 

There’s that. Had this in my docs for months. It was around when I first started to ship them sexually. 

[soybeantree]

pairing: johnny x reader

genre/warning: fluff, magic!au

word count: 3k

description: you hated him. his stupid face smiling. his stupid charisma that would always woo the customers - of which you had no doubt was aided by the use of magic. his stupid cousin - that you actually adored and would kill to have him even notice you, but who continuously chose johnny over you for assistance. and most of all you hated how your lungs forgot their one job whenever he was within 5 feet of you.  

a/n: from the essem: rosemary by moonlight universe. not necessary to read that first, but some things may not make complete sense.

"I'd like an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and a pump of pep. To go." The customer rattles off her order as she approaches the counter, never sparing you a greeting or even a glance. From her clean-cut bob to her khaki shorts and salmon button down, you know exactly how this conversation is going to go.

Contorting your cheeks into your best customer service smile and using your most pleasant tone, you inform her, "I'm sorry ma'am, but any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the cafe."

Now, she glances at you, her wallet poised in her hand as her face falls into what you refer to as the entitled scowl. "Excuse me?"

“Any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the café.” You repeat, despite the fact that you enunciated clearly the first time. To help with any possible confusion, you gesture to the bright golden script at the bottom of the menu which states the same.

The woman scoffs, and you inhale a deep, imperceptible breath. “Why?” Indignation laces the word and colors her cheeks red.

Many reasons. Most of which revolve around negligence and exploitation, but that explanation drags. Reminding yourself that you want this job and have jumped through hoops to get it, you dredge up every ounce of patience in your body. With a smile still in place, you say. “We strive to abide by the standards set forth within the Council’s Magical Charter. I would be more than happy to complete your order, but any drink with magical add-ins must be consumed on property.”

“I-“ You brace yourself for the entitled tirade, but the woman’s face melts into a bewildered smile. A glance over your shoulder reveals the reason. Johnny, your fellow barista, stands behind you, his cheeks pulled back by a swoon worthy grin. 

With a sigh, you step away from the counter and let Johnny work his magic. Quite literally. Johnny, like you, has the skill of enchantment. As a member of the Essem Family, he has had access to training and knowledge all his life. You on the other hand come from a no name family who has one grimoire passed down from generation to generation, and the two-page section on enchantment only works for curing melancholy. 

In moments, Johnny has the woman pacified with an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and no pump of pep, to go. She sends him another smile before she nearly collides with the door on her way out. After a giggle which Johnny echoes, she is gone, and you’re ready to vomit. 

"Did you add a shot of charm to your coffee this morning?" You ask as you resume your position.

Johnny flashes you a grin while raising a single smug eyebrow. "No, I'm just naturally this charming." You gag as you turn away which elicits a chuckle from him. “What, you don’t think I’m charming?”

“I think you are a talented witch.” You say as you reorganize your station. While leaning over the counter to schmooze the woman, Johnny managed to throw the entire place into disarray. You return the business cards to their holder and the pencils to their cup.

“You really think I’m using magic when I calm irritated customers?” 

A twang in his voice draws your attention back to him. Glancing over your shoulder, your stomach twists. For such a tall man, he can make himself appear so small. His shoulders hunch in as he fiddles with the ties on his apron. The posture throws his long bangs into his eyes, obscuring them from your scrutiny.

The answer to his question is “yes”, but the answer brews from a petty spite which you stoke every time Minseok, the café’s owner and the foremost expert on enchantment magic, chooses him as an assistant over you. The whole reason you strived for a position at the café was to become Minseok’s apprentice, but every day he chooses Johnny to help with his brews. While you enjoy blaming Johnny, you know the favoritism is due to the inclusiveness of the covens. After all, Johnny is Minseok’s cousin. 

“Since when do you care what I think? I thought I was just the hired help.” 

His head snaps up, the ties of his apron forgotten as he gazes into your eyes. The contact cools your spite, and it sours. Your stomach rolls at the discomfort, and you clear your throat and return to your reorganization.  

“Minseok doesn’t hire just anyone to help in the café.”

You know this. You badgered him for a job ever since Johnny told you about his cousin and his café. Minseok had been the sole employee for years after the café’s inception, hiring Johnny only when the café’s popularity grew. Eventually, the work became too much for the two of them, and rather than hire a qualified enchantment witch, Minseok had hired the girl with little-to-no skill who practically lived at the shop.

“Whatever.” You grumble as you throw another pencil into the holder. The force sends the jar spinning. It falls on its side spilling its contents across the counter. With a growl, you reach for the scattered pencils, but Johnny’s long arms reach around you. The pencils disappear into one hand as his other rights the holder before returning the contents. 

You duck out from under Johnny’s unintentional embrace, your cheeks burning. He has to be using his magic. You hold tight to this belief as you breathe to calm your racing heart. 

“Minseok likes having you here. You’re as detail oriented as he is.” Johnny nods to the front and back counters both of which have everything in their place and a place for everything. “I’m pretty certain you’re the only person in the world who understands his organizational method.”

“It’s not that hard. Ingredients are organized first by purchase date and then alphabetical. Supplies are..." You trail off as you catch sight of Johnny’s smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You really expect me not to think you’re using magic when you always seem to know exactly what to say to distract me?”

He shrugs, but his smirk only grows. “There are other reasons, I might know that.” Before you can question him further, the bell above the front door jingles. “Duty calls.” He tips his head to you before disappearing back into the brewing room. 

With a deep breath, you shove the conversation from your mind and rattle off the customary greeting as you turn to face the new customer. 

“Good morning, Y/N. How goes the grind?” You blink a moment as your brain registers that your cousin is here. She misses your confusion as she is too busy chuckling at her pun.

"It’s great. How goes your fruitless endeavor to start a school of magic?"

She scowls which brings a genuine smile to your face. "It's not fruitless. It's slow moving because covens are full of stuck up assholes who refuse to share their knowledge because of what? They're afraid it will diminish their power and their prestige. They need to get their heads out of their asses and think about how much better the world would be if we all worked together and shared our knowledge." 

This tirade is as familiar as the Entitled tirade. "And yet, you always get coffee at an Essem café?" You comment as you punch her order into the register.

"Minseok has the best coffee.” She hands you her card. “Everyone in the city knows that. Everyone in the world probably knows it too."

"But you're supporting the coven with the most stuck up assholes." You return the card to her.

"You're working at the coffee shop."

"But I don't have the same issues with them that you do." Not mostly at least. You would appreciate it if Minseok occasionally asked you back into the brewing room. 

She shrugs. “Did you place that order for here or to go?”

“To go?” You raise a brow. 

“I need it for here.”

“Why?” You stretch the word into two syllables. 

“Because I’m staying here.” Rolling your eyes, you adjust the order. "I'm supposed to be meeting up with Yuri." She explains as she checks her watch. "But, she's late as usual."

Your finger pauses above the register as you gawk at your cousin. "Yuri? As in the hedge-witch of the Stahn Family?"

"Yuri is much more than a hedge witch."

"Okay, whatever,” You hold up your hands, stopping whatever tirade she will surely start. “But she’s a Stahn and this is an Essem cafe?"

"Yes,” she crosses her arm, and there is no stopping this coming tirade. “Why is it so hard to understand what me and the Fantagios are trying to do? We want to create a world where people can see beyond their family covens and share knowledge for the benefit of the world."

Leaning forward, you shorten the distance between you and your cousin. The more heated she becomes the louder she gets. The customers have already started to side eye her, and the last thing you need is for Johnny and, especially, Minseok to hear her. "That's great and all. But your dream is not reality and you agreed to meet up with a Stahn on Essem territory. They're basically mortal enemies. This could end in bloodshed, and I could lose my job because I'm related to you."

"Calm down. Yuri wouldn't have agreed to meet here if she was worried for her safety."

You swallow your rebuttal as you hear the hinges of the brewing room door squeak. Your cousin’s eyes grow to the size of saucers, and you wonder why Minseok is delivering her coffee. He rarely leaves the brewing room, leaving all the deliveries to Johnny.

Minseok extends a mug to your cousin who whimpers a “thank you” as she takes it. She sips. Her cheeks flush, but whether that is due to Minseok or the heat of the coffee only your cousin knows. 

“Is it good?” Minseok’s question raises one of your brows. In the year and a half that you’ve been working for Minseok, you have never heard him ask a customer’s opinion of his work. Pink tinges the tips of his ears, and you have to refrain from pinching yourself. Maybe, this whole day has been a dream.

“It’s delicious.” Your cousin, the queen of social justice tirades, simpers.

The nausea from earlier returns as you suffer through the ensuing conversation. Despite your effort to tune it out, you hear Minseok comment on your cousin’s frequent visits to the café. She explains that you’re her cousin, which you wish she would have left out given what is about to happen, and that he makes the best coffee in the city. His whole ears brighten at the compliment, the red creeping into his cheeks. Surely, a customer is bound to come in soon and end this disgusting display of emotions.

“Y/N can keep you company while you wait.”

 Your name snaps your attention back to the conversation. You blink as you search your brain for the lead into the statement but find nothing. “What?”

 “I was telling Uko,” Your cousin must have introduced herself while you attempted disassociation, “that you can take your break early to wait with her.”

“Oh, I mean sure if you’re okay with that.” The look on Minseok’s face screams that he would be okay with anything that your cousin wanted. 

“Go ahead.” He motions for you to be on your way, and with a slight nod, you head into the brewing room which offers the exit into the main area.

Johnny, busy at a cauldron, eyes you as you walk past him and remove your apron. “Where are you going?”

“I’m taking my break.” You say with a shake of your head as you hang your apron on its hook.

A glance at the clock scrunches up Johnny’s face and puffs out his already large lips. “But, your break’s in an hour?”

“Listen,” you say, turning to face him completely. “I don’t know what I just witnessed out there.” You gesture to the door behind which you are certain the uncomfortable situation is continuing. “But, Minseok said go to break, so I am going to break.”

“What did you witness?” Johnny grabs a mortar and pestle from the counter and adds three pinches to his cauldron. A faint smell of strawberries wafts through the room bringing with it the image of sunlight fields and a gentle breeze. He’s brewing happiness. The ingredient he added was green. Was it an herb? A stone? A mixture of different things? “Y/N?”

“What?” Your mind snaps back to the moment as you remember that Johnny did ask a question. “Is your cousin dating anyone?” You ask rather than answer.

Johnny pauses mid-stir and stares at you. “No.” He draws out the word as he slowly starts to stir the cauldron counter clockwise. “Are you asking for a friend?”

Your eyes narrow at his tone. “No, I’m asking because he’s currently flirting with my cousin, and it’s gross.”

“What?!” His whole face lights up, and he nearly spills the cauldron in his haste to reach the door to the order counter. Sprinting across the room, you reach the door before he does and block it with your body.

“What are you doing?” You pant as your lungs struggle to refill.

“Our family, at least the cool people in our family, have a bet going that Minseok has a wife and two kids in hiding or that he is a celibate monk. I bet that he hasn’t found the right one. Now move, so I can prove I was right and win the bet.” He tries to shove you to the side, but you dig your heels in and refuse to budge. “Come on.” He whines, pulling his bottom lip up into a pout.

“If you want me to move, then you had better use your magic because this is already ridiculous enough.” Fortifying yourself for the oncoming attack, you blink in surprise when Johnny steps back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to. I can ask Minseok about it when he comes back here.” He returns to the cauldron. The potion has turned a putrid shade of green, and Johnny hisses as he tries to fix the problem. 

Staying would provide you valuable knowledge, but Minseok has yet to approve your assistance with the brewing. Staying also means you would witness the next installment of this non-thrilling saga.

Minseok and your cousin are still talking when you exit the brewing room into the main area. They probably haven’t even realized how long you’ve been gone or that their conversation was almost interrupted by an overly inquisitive mind.  

“There’s a free table over there.” You bust into the middle of a conversation about magical vs. non-magical cleaning products. 

“Right.” Your cousin looks to you, then back to Minseok. “It was very nice talking with you.” Her smile stretches across her face. “Maybe we could talk more later.”

Minseok’s smile is more subdued than your cousin’s, but it’s more than what you witness on a typical Tuesday. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Minseok.” Johnny’s head pops out of the brewing room. “I need your help with something.” The stench of rotten fruit leaks through the open door. Minseok mutters a quick apology before disappearing into the brewing room. 

You take a seat at the free table, a smug smile on your face. Your cousin is slower to take her seat, her smile still in place. “Is this really the first time you’ve met Minseok?” You ask when she finally settles in her seat.

“Yes,” she answers though her eyes remain on the brewing room door. “He had already graduated when I started high school. I heard about him from the upperclassmen, but they did not do him justice. He is one fine man.”

“Gross. Can you take your thirsty ass and get out of my place of work?”

“You work in a coffee shop, a place where thirsty people are literally supposed to come.” She quips back, finally glancing at you.

“Please, people don’t come to cafes because they’re thirsty. They come to work, socialize, or take aesthetic photos, and maybe sometimes for caffeine.” 

Before she can formulate a rebuttal, the bell above the front door jingles, and in walks the reason for your cousin’s visit. In your disgust, you had forgotten the threat to your job. Panic races through your veins as your attention shifts to the counter. You wish for all the luck in the world, but luck abandons you. Instead of Johnny coming to greet the new customer, Minseok emerges once again. Habit controls him as he smiles and gives the customary greeting. Only after the last word leaves his mouth does recognition register in his eyes. 

"Yuri." The name is a question and a greeting.

The hedge-witch tilts her head a fraction of a degree in the semblance of a nod. "Minseok." She returns the greeting. You wait - breath held, heart racing - for the coming altercation.

"Kyungsoo's been looking for you. He seems to be worried about something. Is everything okay?"

"You can mind your own damn business." She huffs, her arms crossing over her chest.

You flinch, but Minseok chuckles. "I'm merely a messenger."

"Well messenger, you can tell Kyungsoo - and please make this verbatim - 'I'm fine. Thank you. You can suck my dick'."

Minseok jots the message down on his guest check book, glancing up at Yuri when he finishes. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all."

"Would you like to order anything?"

"Hell, no. I'm here to meet with someone." She glances around the shop. 

You shrink down in your chair, hoping to avoid detection, but your cousin shreds that hope. She waves her hand, drawing both of their attention to you two. Minseok’s eyes rest on you for a moment before shifting to your cousin. 

Yuri returns the wave as she walks to your table. "Hey Uko, sorry I'm late. The potion needed to brew a little longer this morning than I anticipated. I blame this muggy weather. It's messing with everything I make. Is this your cousin?" She nods to you as she plunks into the last of the three chairs at your table. Uko nods her head. "Nice to meet you."

"You might not think it's so nice. She works here."

A hiss slips out as Yuri shakes her head. "Why must the young always be corrupted?"

"Don't worry. I might not have a job for much longer." You sigh as you push yourself out of your chair. "Breaks over. I’ll find out soon enough if I do or not."

"Minseok might be an Essem, but he's not going to fire you because you have a connection to me.” Yuri assures you. “If he does though, let me know and I'll kick his ass." Yuri grins, showing all of her teeth, and you chuckle despite the anxieties waging war in your stomach.

Walking back into the brewing room, you grab your apron and slip it on while keeping your back to Minseok and Johnny. With a deep breath, you turn to face them. Johnny stands over the cauldron which is a deep forest green and simmering pleasantly. You breathe in the smell of strawberries and hope the happiness has rubbed off on Minseok who is standing beside Johnny and whispering instructions. 

With a glance up, Minseok pats Johnny on the shoulder and walks towards you. Lifting leaden feet, you meet him by the door to the ordering counter. 

A volley of words waits on your tongue, but they retreat when Minseok asks, “Can you give this to your cousin?” The “this” he is referring to is a folded scrap of paper.

You take the paper, nodding as you slip it into the back pocket of your jeans. “Sure. What is it?”

A small smile lifts his cheeks, and his voice is soft when he says, “My number.”

You choke on your response, and you can hear Johnny chuckling as you attempt to regain your breath. Minseok offers to get you a drink, but you wave off his concern. “What?” You finally manage to get out.

“I forgot to ask for your cousin’s number when we were talking.” He pouts. “I was hoping you would give her mine and tell her she can text me whenever.” 

“Sure.” You pause before asking, “Should I go back to work now?”

“Of course.” His response is instantaneous and a flood of relief washes through you. “And thank you.” He adds, the corners of his mouth quirking up. With a nod, he returns to Johnny’s side. 

Exiting the brewing room, you shake your head. On the plus side, you still have your job. On the negative side, your cousin might start dating your boss which may not be a complete negative but it definitely isn’t a positive.

[afterhoursfic]

I haven't been able to stop thinking about feral, calm power bottom Vesemir. Like Lambert's being snarky and teasing, so Vesemir holds him down and rides him till he can't think straight. Geralt fucking him over the dining table, eskel kissing and touching him whole he demands for more. He's a bidet man, you have to be to train cubs, and that def transfers into the bedroom. He's a man who knows what's he wants, and that's to be fucked senseless by his strong cubs.

This is literally platinum tier thinking anon

They can always tell with Lambert because he gets even more unbearable, always has a bit more venom in his words, and throws around insults whilst during training he’s constantly doing bad techniques to put the others off and do a dirty trick to try and get them face down into the stone. That’s when Vesemir steps in and practically scruffs the wolf before bringing him to his chambers with the order to strip, Lambert, of course, tells him to fuck off and in a quick movement, Vesemir has him turned, arms pinned behind his back and his neck bared as he tugs at his hair. They stay like that for a moment before Lambert relaxes a little in his grip, lets out a reluctant fine before shaking free of his grip to remove his clothes, it was all part of the game though, if Lambert hadn’t wanted this he wouldn’t have so easily let himself be dragged through the keep.

It’s easy enough to get Lambert on the bed, Vesemir holding the younger witchers hands above his head as he slowly starts to ride his cock. Sure he may be old but he’s still strong and he proves that by squeezing his grip around Lambert’s wrists, lets him know that he won’t be moving soon and will have bruises which won’t disappear until the next day, and he knows Lambert feels it too by the shudder that goes through him. It’s only when he gets a rushed apology from lambert and the promise to behave that he finally gives them both some relief and eagerly starts riding the other witchers cock. Even with their stamina he had been teasing and grinding and doing a whole manner of tricks for the last couple of hours in an effort to get Lambert to beg so it could almost be embarrassing how quickly they both come. He comes first and can already hear the old man joke on Lambert’s tongue, so with a couple rolls of his hips and a trick he learned decades ago in Novigrad he has Lambert coming soon after him, a dazed expression on his face as if he can’t quite believe it either.

Thankfully it’s not long before they’re hard again and he has a couple of more rounds where he gives riding Lambert his all and has the other witcher come a handful more times before he gives Lambert a bit more control, lets him dig his feet in and thrust up into him, the kind of mindless fucking where the goal is purely to get off and now it’s Lambert’s turn to get him to come over and over until the early hours of the morning. It’s then when they’re both sweaty and frankly gross given in how covered, and in Vesemir’s case, filled with come but Vesemir content that Lambert is more subdues now rolls them over so the younger witcher’s on top, lets him have complete control as they fuck one last time that night, coming together with small groans before Lambert cleans them both. Lambert is visibly different the next morning, still sarcastic and a bit of a brat, but tolerable, hell he even apologizes to Geralt for breaking his nose the day previous.

.

Geralt is very different in that he just wants to take all the time, or at least tries to. Often he will walk up and bend Vesemir over the table, either at breakfast or when he’s making decoctions to pull his pants down enough to slip a couple of slicked fingers into him. Some mornings he gives in, lets Geralt get away with the hasty prep and the brutal fucking afterward that leaves bruises on his hip from his fingers and on his neck from sharp teeth. Most of the time though he stops Geralt, makes him slow down, and strives to pleasure Vesemir rather than just himself and at least doing something more than just getting his dick wet.

So that’s how Eskel and Lambert find them most mornings, with Vesemir bent over the table and Geralt eagerly eating him, spit trailing down his neck with his cock out, hard and leaking precome over the floor whilst Vesemir insists they eat before training. Of course, he makes sure Geralt eats too, eventually, he pulls Geralt away and sits him in a chair, quickly taking his place on his lap and sinking onto his cock.

Slowly over breakfast, he’ll ride Geralt, feeding him bits of fruit or bread and cheeses, and only when Vesemir’s happy he’s had enough will he brace himself on the table and start eagerly riding Geralt, grinding his hips every now and then but snapping his hips up and down as he drives them both to orgasm. When he has a sheen of sweat covering him will Geralt grab his waist and start fucking up into him, the other two witchers having finished and cleaning up after breakfast until with a handful more thrusts and a hand on his cock first Vesemir comes over the table, the floor, even some on Geralt’s leg, but Geralt’s quickly following after and he lets the other witcher suck another mark onto his shoulder before he pulls away. He leaves Geralt to clean up their mess whilst he cleans up and gets ready for practice, because whoever would win their little bout would likely be fucking him over lunch.

.

Eskel is different in that he is so affectionate, eager to kiss and lick and worship every inch of him before slowly making love to him, because with him it never just felt like sex, it always felt like more. Sure time with all his pups were special but Eskel he felt like the center of the universe and it was heady having that sort of power.

The first few times the almost worship had been uncomfortable, at the end of the day he was still a witcher and he’s used to people being disgusted by him, and because of his age people were even less eager than brothels to be with him, no matter how much coin he offered.

However, one night when he made out with Eskel for literal hours, the younger witchers' hands roaming his back his sides, tracing his scars and turning away to kiss along his jaw or neck, made him breathless and desperate for the other man’s touch. Often times he has to direct Eskel otherwise they’d never get to having sex, sometimes he just lets the boy do what he wants whether that’s eating him out for hours, keeping his cock warm with his mouth, or just massaging across his whole body with firm but gentle fingers only to do it all again but with his mouth.

.

There are very few times where they all fuck Vesemir together. They all have different techniques and when they’d tried in the past they constantly fought over who got to fuck him, who got to kiss him, they would criticize each other on how they fucked when Vesemir really couldn’t care less he just wanted to get railed tbh, but decides it’s for the best, there’s still time to train them later. They work better on their own for now, occasionally two of them will team up on him and being split open on both ends is always wonderful.

During winter though they each chose a random day to be their birthday, they’re far too old and have been through far too much shit to remember their actual birthday, but for one day whoever’s birthday it is is king of the keep and essentially whatever they say goes. With Vesemir it’s always easy, it’s just bringing enough food into his room and the three of them for once fucking Vesemir any and every way he wants for days because that’s what he deserves with the last day culminating in having two of them in his ass and another in his mouth, they rotate every few rounds and honestly, Vesemir has never been so blissed out. Afterward though they all need to take a few days off not just from fucking but training as well to recover their strength.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

White Lace

Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader

As requested by anonymous: Can I request a chubby!bucky and reader on their wedding nigh?

Warning: smut

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Bucky pulled you in with a big smile on your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands and planting a big, loving kiss to your lips. The attendees all burst into cheers and hollers throughout the duration of the kiss. Employees of his company that you came to know and love as your family, business partners, company partners, all people you’ve come to know from Bucky’s work, proceeded to grow louder as you and Bucky walked down the aisle hand in hand. 

Bucky flopped onto the hotel’s bed with a little less than grace. The top few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned to reveal some of his chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the tie he once wore was long gone. His shirt was previously tucked into his slacks, hugging the curve of his round belly, now untucked and slightly wrinkled from all the dancing and nonsense that occurred during the reception.  

He stares up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the suite, shining and sparkling above him, with a big smile on his face. Bucky was the CEO of Winter Corp. and always strived for the best, therefore, with you being his wife, you deserved the best hotel suite in Manhattan to share the night with your loving husband before you’re off to your honeymoon. He still couldn’t believe that he was married to the most perfect woman in the world.

“I’m beat, babe!” he called out as you were in the bathroom “freshening up”.

“Hopefully not too beat, husband,” you say teasingly as you step out wearing a white lace corset with matching lace underwear and white stockings with a lace trim. 

Your adorable husband abruptly sat up, “I’m awake now,” which made you giggle.

You make your way over to the bed, crawling over Bucky to then settle on his lap. His hands immediately go to your waist and you smirk, “Wanna open my wedding gift to you, baby?” your finger grazes along his neck and down his chest causing him to shudder.

“Oh yes I do,” he growls and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours, “My beautiful bride,” he murmurs over your lips before pressing his against yours. The bottom half of his body grinding down on you, your legs automatically opening up to welcome him. 

You hook your legs around him, pulling him in closer. His clothed semi-hard erection meets your clothed heat and you both moan into the kiss as he ruts against you. 

While Bucky’s lips pepper kisses along your jaw and neck, a hand slides down your body and into your panties, his fingers meeting your wet slick, “All mine, Mrs. Barnes. All mine forever,” he mumbles, fingers sliding up and down your slit, to then stop at your clit, circling around the nub a few times, before proceeding again. 

Your hips are thrusting up into his hand, “More, Bucky, please,” you whine. 

He chuckles, “I thought this was supposed to be my wedding present.”

You groan in frustration as he continues to play with your pussy, not inserting one finger inside you, “Asshole,” you grumble, which makes him laugh. 

“Come on, sweetheart, this is supposed to be all slow and romantic. You’re making it very hard for me to take my time.”

“I don’t want you to take your time!” you whine again, “I’ve been waiting to jump your bones ever since I saw you at the end of the aisle! You looking all hunky and sexy in this goddamn suit! Ugh! Why do you look so good in everything?!”

He giggles and leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “I appreciate the sentiment, Mrs., but this is our wedding night, c’mon, humor me.” he takes in your pouty face and proceeds to slowly grind himself onto you, “Please?” he kisses your lips again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he murmurs, fingers slowly grazing over your clit. 

Your breath hitches, “F-Fine,” you stammer out. 

“Good.” 

Bucky removes his hand from his panties and slides down your body, coming face to face with your laced cover crotch. His nose sliding along the lace. He sniffs and moans, “You smell so good, Mrs..” he then hooks his thumbs long the band and slowly pulls them down. He moans again when he gets a sight of your pussy, “And you waxed for me? Baby, you really shouldn’t have.” He opens your legs wider and hums when you rest them over his thighs. 

“Been so hungry for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs before his mouth delves into you. 

“Fuck!” you hiss when you feel his tongue lick up your slit, sending a few flicks over your clit.

“Mmmm, best thing I’ve had all day.”

“Bucky,” you moaned his name, fingers weaving through his brown tresses, grabbing hold and tugging. He moans into your pussy and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out in pleasure. 

As he continues to lick and suck you, one hand grabbing hold of your breast while the other slowly starts to pump two fingers in and out of you. 

“Shit, yes!” you cry out, finally getting what you want. 

“You’re very greedy, Mrs. Barnes, all you wanna do is take,” he mumbles with a smirk.

You look down at him with a challenging gaze, “Take your dick out then and I’ll show you what I can give back,” you quip.

Your husband pulls away sitting up and undoing his slacks. As soon as he pushes them down, along with his boxers, his fully hard cock comes free. You then crawl over to him, gripping his shaft and begin to pump it. Bucky’s head falls back when your mouth lowers onto his cock. 

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, putting a hand on the back of your head to push you down further. He arches his back a bit so he could get a better look at you over the top of his stomach. Your y/e/c eyes are staring up at him and he feels like you’re staring into his soul.

“Such a good baby, my beautiful wife,” he grunts as he starts thrusting into your mouth, “So fucking good.”

You continue to stare up at him as he fucks your mouth, your own hands playing with your pussy. You let out a pleasurable moan as Bucky reaches down and starts playing with your nipples, pinching and tugging. His eyes glancing from your mouth on his dick to his hands on your breasts, and to your fingers working on your pussy. 

He could feel his balls tightening and his grits his teeth, pulling his cock out of your mouth, “Gotta be inside you, Mrs. Barnes.”

You smile as you get onto your back once more, “Then get inside me, Mr. Barnes.” Your legs are wide open once more, glistening with your juices. 

Bucky quickly rids himself of his pants and shirt, then kneels in-between your legs, his hard cock in hand. He slowly strokes himself as he gets a look at you, his wonderful, beautiful wife laying before him. 

“Wait,” he reaches over the bedside and grabs his phone, snapping a picture of you.

“Bucky!” you squeal, trying to grab at his phone.

He keeps it away from you with a smile, “Don’t worry, babe. My eyes only. Promise. Just wanna have a little something to remember this night.” he tosses his phone back onto the table and then slowly inserts himself into your heat. 

“Oh fuck. Bucky!” you head falls back, your eyes close, and your mouth hangs open. You and Bucky have had sex before, but you’ll never get tired of how well he stretches and fills you. 

His thrusts start off slow, it allows you and him to really feel how his cock drags along inside of you, causing a slow build up to the pleasure that will unfold. He bends over, pressing his body against yours, his arms keeping him slightly up, for he doesn’t want to crush you. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you whimper out as his thrusts become sharper and faster.

“Love you too, baby. So fucking much,” he kisses you again, moaning into your lips as his pace starts to quicken, “Play with your pussy while I fuck, sweetheart,” he mumbles, eyes watching yours as your hand snakes down and begins circling you nub. 

His lips twitch up when he sees a slight change in your eyes and facial expression. Your eyes start to flutter close, but Bucky cups your face, “No, no, eyes on me, Mrs. Barnes. Wanna see your eyes when you cum.”

You whimper out his name as he starts fucking into you hard and rough, your hand matching his pace on your clit. Your other hand grips his shoulder, nails digging into his skin causing him to hiss. A pleasurable pain that is welcomed. 

“Bucky-”

“Go on, baby. Cum on my cock. Cum on your husband’s cock, my gorgeous wife.” Your eyes start to close again, but then Bucky stops you, “No. I told you, eyes on me. Now come on, let go. Cum for me, Mrs. Barnes.”

You let out a combination of a squeal and a moan, your eyes looking directly into Bucky’s as your walls tighten and you cum on his dick. 

He continue to thrust into you, giving you words of praise, “That’s it, sweetheart. My good baby. My good wife.” he grunts and then sits up, cock still inside you, “My turn, honey.” he takes your legs and wrap them around his waist, hammering his dick into you with haste.

“Fuck! Fuck! Y/N!” he groans as his hips still and his seed spills into you. He gives short and curt thrusts until he’s spent, pulling himself out and flopping onto he bed beside you. 

Both of you lay there as panting, sweaty messes. 

“Ready for our happily ever after, Mr. Barnes?” you ask with a teasing smile.

He chuckles, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close, “So ready, Mrs. Barnes.”