#but there is that same fierceness and 'gotta buckle down and do the thing for my family' that makes me want to cry

[katierosefun]

god i love taylor jenkin reid’s books in that so many of her protags are all so. fuckign unhinged and focused on doing what they want to do, watching how all their dreams slowly but steadily blossom and watching them be absolutely insane in how they get to that point is so. god i love u complicated women i love u flawed women i love u women who are a touch selfish and a lot insecure but trying their goddamn best to live the life they want

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Pussydrunk!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cockdrunk!Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other. From this ask here.

Word Count: 5.4 k

Warnings:

The moment those heavy boots hit the threshold of the apartment, brown eyes are searching for you as Simon’s heart pounds in his ears the same as it had the entire drive over. He’s been gnawing at the bit since even before he returned to base a day ago, aching to get back to the gorgeous being living in his flat. The last month of his deployment he’s been on edge, counting down the days in agonizing fashion as the craving growing in the pit of his stomach gets worse and worse. Fuck, he’s missing you - all of you - something fierce. 

Simon has missed those sweet moans of yours, the way you make his name sound so perfect through the stuttered gasps as you reach that level of incoherence that renders you completely useless; he has missed all the ways your body moves against and underneath him, writhing and back arching as his larger form overwhelms you; he has missed the way you fuck him, body begging for more even as you struggle to fit him all in and how beautiful it is to be inside you. 

It is enough to drive the man insane.

From the bedroom you can hear the door opening and closing and rush to the living room as quick as your legs can move, carried by giddy nerves to see your lover again after so long. You knew he was meant to be in today, but not the time and so you’ve been on edge waiting and listening; as soon as you see him a deepening ache situates itself in your chest. 

Simon clocks you as you come into the living room and he can’t find enough air to fill his lungs; by the way your cheeks instantly glow with warmth and your eyes sparkle he’s sure you are feeling the same tension fill the air around you the moment you two are in sight of one another. You are the one to close the distance as Simon’s limbs feel too heavy to move at first, blood being drawn to other places along his body that need it more now that he is near to the object of his desire. 

“Hey there stranger,” you smile up into those familiar balaclava- clad features as your heartbeat steadily becomes more erratic from your body flooding with that desperate longing to be against him once again. It is always the same: when you two are apart for long periods when he has to be away the moment you are in front of one another again it is like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. “Long time no see.” 

He stares back down at you, light chocolate eyes taking in the face he hasn’t seen properly in too damn long. “Well ‘ello there yerself, pretty girl,” he returns, gravely tone sending chills down your spine as he drops the gear on his shoulder to the floor so that he has free range of motion to cup his calloused hand along your soft, delicate cheek. “It’s been a hot fuckin’ minute. Did ya miss me, luv?”

Before his brain can register what’s happening he senses something brush up against him in the small space still between your bodies and as his eyes travel down he sees that your hand is grabbing at his belt buckle, silky digits lacing themselves around the metal clasp. His eyes jump back up to yours instantly.

You aren’t wasting any time, are you? Fucking hell.

“Missed you a whole fucking lot, Simon,” you say under your breath as you give his belt a firm tug forward so that he has to take a step into you. Your thighs are already being rubbed together where you stand; it’s instant the way he can turn you on just by his presence alone. “Didn’t know when you’d be in; been waiting as patiently as I could, but I gotta say it hasn’t been easy. Got my nerves all flustered. How about you? Are you flustered, baby?”

You just have to do it, don’t you? That one damned gesture that always sends him reeling.

It isn’t a secret how the time apart makes him pine for you as if he is a man dying of thirst: for those hot, breathless moments spent between your thighs, for the way your bodies seem created only for the other, for the intense sensations of euphoria that only you can give him. So when your fingers hook into his belt to pull him in closer, you know what effect it will have on making him crumble, don’t you? 

Eight months is far too fucking long not to have any piece of you and any little touch would have done the trick to do him in, but you know the exact combination that will have him throwing you on your back in a heartbeat. He is a man starved of his addiction and it’s about goddamn time he had another hit. As you tug at the leather with a smirk across your lips, doe-eyed stare not so innocent anymore, all that yearning that had been bubbling right under the calm surface of those autumn-colored eyes for eight long, agonizing months explodes with force. 

No words, not a goddamn sound as that skull mask is ripped up off of Simon’s face in a flash quicker than your eyes can catch. Your body is moved by two strong arms more than capable of manhandling those curves with ease and find yourself slammed into the wall while he clasps your chin securely in his grip so that hungry lips can scramble to aggressively capture your own. While your lips dance, his free hand roams up under your clothes to grab ahold of any piece of available flesh as all that pent up desire surges through his veins like liquid fire. His fingertips tremble as they brush across all that soft, balmy skin along your abdomen and around your hips, making him produce a guttural moan into your open mouth that you are forced to swallow down. 

That huge, hulking body of his with its prominent muscles bulging everywhere even through his clothing overwhelms your own as he pins you harder against the wall while his grip descends to around your ass so that he can bring your hips forward, clothed pelvis rutting into you to catch any extra bit of friction he can as that tenting at the crotch of his pants swells the longer he grinds against you. His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, frantic kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion… and yet you still aren’t satisfied. 

Simon feels your nipples through your t-shirt stiffening as his chest rubs against them, a reminder to his numbing brain that there is even more of a feast for him waiting just beneath your clothes if he can just get them off you; the couple of nudes he keeps in his phone that you send him while he’s away are only a pale comparison to the real fucking thing and he’s been dying see it in person.

You’re close to one another, but not fucking close enough. 

He needs skin on skin, curves molded into curves, cock buried in you deep. That’s the crux of it all - he needs to be reminded of what you feel like wrapped around him, lose his mind as your cunt gives him the sensation he can get nowhere else from no one else. It consumes him in that moment until his thoughts are filled with nothing but the oncoming ecstasy that will soon be his. 

Feverish fingers slip themselves into the waistband at the back of your pants as he continues to rut against you, the few layers of fabric between you about to be reduced as he shoves down taking your pants over the arch of your ass until they fall around your ankles and you can step out of them. Your own fingers are already undoing the buckle of his belt before your clothes can hit the floor; thank fuck that Simon likes to keep his wardrobe uncomplicated when on leave. 

“Christ, I’m so fuckin’ hard for ya, sweetheart,” he breathes the heated, desperate words against your raw lips as hips continue to grind on you and make your work that much more difficult, “it’s been hell being away for so long. I’ve been fuckin’ starved, baby. That sweet little pussy of yours is callin’ my fuckin’ name. I need it, I need ya…fuckin’ can’t wait another goddamn second.” 

The muscles along his abdomen tense through his shirt as you brush against them until finally his belt comes loose and you can move onto the button securing his pants. You finish undoing everything just in time for him to tear that fucking shirt clean off your top half before doing exactly the same to his own. 

The middle of his chest is flushed pink and hastily you lean in to press your lips to it, through the tingle against your mouth from tiny hairs brushing over the delicate skin you can feel he is so warm it’s like he’s heated from the inside out. That broad chest heaves up and down heavily with the weight of his lust-filled breaths as you dot tender pecks along the center before he can’t take anymore and picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and hurriedly drags you off to the bedroom hungry and ready to indulge.  

“That’s it,” Simon says in that brash tone that lets you know he’s reached his limit. “Can’t take this ache ‘nother goddamn second. You and that sweet thing between your legs are mine now.”  

He’s able to make it across the apartment in no time and throws open the bedroom door so that it hits the wall behind it with a booming thud as he stalks to the bed and sets you down on the surface, making sure to remove the pants hanging loosely around his hips as quick as he can along with his boxers. The moment he’s free of the clothing binding him that thick, meaty appendage springs to life, bobbing at attention as the vein along it pulses, and your breath hitches as your eyes are drawn to it; he’s not the only one who’s hungry and its been a hot fucking minute since you’ve laid eyes on all he has to offer.

You barely have time to scramble up towards the pillows at the head of the bed before he is crawling up towards you, a predator’s gaze making his iris’ flash and sparkle with an internal fire in the scant bit of light from the bedside lamp that illuminates the room. 

Simon’s shoulder muscles tense as he moves on all fours until he’s over you, his cock dangling down as he gets between your legs so that it drags over the petals of your pussy. You can feel it throb as it becomes even more engorged with blood at the stimulation and it makes your mouth salivate. A strained grunt echoes through his closed lips as the tip grazes over that silky, heated skin between your thighs; he’s already vibrating with pleasure… what the fuck is gonna happen when he gets inside?

Only one way to find out…

Simon pulls your legs up high around his waist, wide torso keeping you nice and spread for him. You claw at his shoulder blades with your nails as you shove your hips into him, body practically begging for him to get inside already. Screw any foreplay, you can’t afford to wait and let this frantic moment slip by. There is only one thing you want in you and it is already throbbing at its destination. 

“Fuck, please Simon, just get inside me,” your plea sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want to fucking wait…waited long enough.”

Spitting into his hand he applies the moisture to your entrance, lubricating the opening with hard presses of his fingertips along your cunt to help get things moving in the right direction. “Been a while, baby,” he returns as he aligns the tip and presses it against you while trying not to fall apart at the seams, “ya sure ya can still fuckin’ take it all?”

You nod aggressively, the need to be filled out by him overwhelming your every sense. You’ve waited patiently all this time, chomping at the bit for him to get back to you and now that he is here between your legs it’s all you can think about. “Give it to me,” you demand. “I need it baby, please, I’m aching something terrible. I need to feel you inside me again.”

How could he ever deny a request like that from you? 

The world falls away as the tip slips through the threshold of your body and inside and he has to stop as just the head alone stretching you wide sends him spiraling. Your back arches off of the bed as you squirm under him, mouth falling open with half-formed moans that get caught in the back of your throat as the tight space is beginning to fill. Simon shudders with ecstasy, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite down in hopes that the sharp pain will force him to stay sane.  

Another thrust shoves him in a bit more so that now he’s more than halfway there, but still has just a bit to go. Your body doesn’t stand a chance as you lay under him at his mercy. His fingernails graze your waist as his hands hold on tight; he has to fit it in, get to the base, completely surround himself within you. Taking a deep breath he gathers another burst of energy to thrust all the way until he bottoms out and you release a cry into the silence of the room. 

“Goddamn ya feel so fuckin’ good princess, like a goddamn dream,” he gasps out as his head snaps down against your chest. “Pretty girl, my pretty fuckin’ girl, wanna keep ya fuckin’ full ‘a me all the time.”

Simon’s brain is quickly becoming mush as the warmness and growing wetness of your pussy makes his large form quiver at the bliss. You are no better, sanity slipping away as his hefty cock practically molds your walls to his specific shape as it rests inside. Hips begin to rock and are immediately punctuated by a deep-throated groan with each snap as he settles into a steady rhythm.   

Thrust after thrust each one harder than the last pushes your body until it is shoved up and your head hits the wall behind the bed. Simon’s nose nuzzles into your neck as feeble whimpers leave the confines of your mouth and pack his head full. “Missed your sounds too,” he says, amidst another thrust. “Keep this up and it’s gonna be my fuckin’ end, sweetheart.” Another strong thrust follows and then another.  

A yearning need to see himself fuck your gorgeous body suddenly engulfs his mind and so he slow sits himself up on his knees, making sure to keep himself inside you, so that he can get the perfect birdseye view of the beautiful way your body takes him in. It’s perfection and he cannot help but become absorbed in watching as each thrust in and out makes his cock disappear inside that narrow passage only to slip back out covered in more of your juices with each pass. 

Over and over his hips rock into you, the muscles along his abdomen clenching, fingertips digging into your sides to hold you still as his speed steadily increases the longer he goes. Your music fills his head, whimpers of pleasure as he strikes against your g-spot from the angle he’s positioned in, and that is the only thing that is floating in there now as everything else becomes a blur. 

The stoic and collected military officer is reduced to a glorious mess the longer he thrusts, drooling over you, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him all in as they flutter around his cock. It’s been too long, too many nights spent alone without your company stuck half-way across the world with only his hand to keep him occupied when he can get a free moment, which those were few and far between. But nothing, nothing ever could compare to the feeling of you.

“Can’t get enough,” he stammers with a groan, so wrapped up in the moment that speech is near impossible to produce. “Fuckin’ desperate for ya, need more…need fuckin’ more…”

Simon is deep inside you and yet that ache is still monstrous, eating him alive so that anything outside of the ecstasy of your flesh is just fucking gone. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he’s obsessed with your body. It isn’t enough though, never enough. You have completely consumed him; he is under your spell and nothing can break the charm.

His head is spinning, thoughts vacant like he is wasted; fuck, he’s high off the sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Now that he is inside you, there is no way he can leave anytime soon. There’s no goddamn way he’s going to let either of you come yet, not after how long you two have gone without each other. 

That hot coil tensing in the pit of his stomach pulls tighter and tighter, but he will not let it snap… not yet. No, he needs this to last as long as he physically can keep it up and so he knows what he has to do and with all his strength he does it; that once intense pounding slows down until he stops amongst your whimpered mewling. 

“What’re you doing?” you stutter, hips desperately trying to buck against him, but he pins them down for a bit. 

“Uh, uh,” he shakes his head, “don’t ya fuckin’ dare think you’re gonna come yet. Ya feel too fuckin’ good to let go of.”

Oh shit… You were in for it now, but just how much you could have never guessed. 

“No…no, please… I need you to keep going,” you plead as your throat strains to release the words, water rimming the whites of your eyes. That consuming ache is so deep in your bones it threatens to devour you whole, causing you to rip at the very seams as it permeates every fiber of your being until your entire form is primed like an explosive ready to combust. You can’t breathe, you can’t fucking think; everything is focused on how much the feeling of him is consuming all of you like a fire burning through dry tinder.

A shuddering breath escapes his lips; even stopping doesn’t help much, your body just feels too good and so he has to at least rut carefully against it. “I know, baby, I know,” he groans as his fingers dig into your hip to now force you to grind your clit into the base of his shaft. “But ya want this to fuckin’ last, yeah? Ya don’t wanna be done with me just yet, do ya?”

That thick, veiny appendage lay inside you, its girth stretching out the walls of your cunt to capacity as it simply rests there throbbing with the beat of his rapid heart rate, stewing in the filthy mess of juices he’s already made between your legs. You choke on a whimper as the stimulation to your clit sends a shockwave through to your toes and you clench them together, gathering some of the sheets into their grip. 

“No,” you shake your head wildly. “You just feel so fucking good, I can’t help it… feels so good… I just wanna keep feeling good with you, Simon.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he praises as he leans forward and presses his burning lips to the skin on your stomach, knowing that no matter what you would have said he wasn’t going to let you tap out yet; he needs your pussy like he needs air to survive. “It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve been able ta do this…need ta make up for all the lost time.” 

Simon’s dreamt about this the entire time you’ve been apart; insatiable, desperate, carnal fantasies about fucking your tight hole to within an inch of your sanity, making you come so hard that you can’t move for hours after. His cock has been throbbing for months with nothing but his fucking hand to take the edge off as he pictures filling out every inch of your hole until there is nowhere left for his cock to go.

Another couple of minutes of simply breathing, grinding, and focusing on the way the skin of your torso is so soft against his lips and he’s far enough from that ledge that he wants to start thrusting full force again. He leans down and wraps his arms around your body and you take it as a sign that he’s going to start up again, only for him to roll you both until you are the one on top now. The movement is unexpected, but you are more than willing to go along with it if it means you can take control of your own pleasure. 

As he situates himself under you, his hands roam up and down your sides while he takes a second to enjoy how you look perched over him: full tits directly in his face, hair cascading around your cheeks as you peer down into his face, eyes rolling back in your head every time a sensitive point gets stimulated. You are his fucking fantasy when you get on top. 

“I wanna have ya ride me for a bit,” he breathes. “Show me how good ya ride it, pretty girl. Make my cock your toy.”

As long as he stays inside you, you’ll do whatever the hell he wants.    

Placing your hands on his hard chest for support while his hand moves back to your hips, Simon guides you up and down until you are bouncing in rhythm to match his racing heartbeat. Harder and harder he shoves you forcefully down to get as deep into you as possible until you can feel bruises rising where his hands have a hold of you, yet that doesn’t matter at all as you can only comprehend the way his cock is rendering you too fucking dumb to think of anything else.  

Pushing down against his chest you bob up and down on your knees as best as you can, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. He told you to use him, but all you want is for him to make you his living fleshlight as you are forced to take it all. Your movements start to get sloppy after a time as you can hardly keep yourself focused anymore with how good it feels and Simon takes notice, though he is ready with the solution.

His hips start to strike up into your pussy as even though he is beneath you he is more than capable of taking control, not wanting to move into a new position just yet. You whimper and whine with your mouth hung open as each percussive hit sends shockwaves of euphoria ripping through you just like you want. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. 

You can only sit and take every last delectable inch that he gives you as his massive girth stretches your walls with every thrust of his pelvis upward. The room fills with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as he works your hole as if this is the last chance he will ever get to fuck you and he needs to make it count.

Minute after minute, his full attention being focused solely on you, each stroke along that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside your core drives you increasingly closer to that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off at any point without notice. He must be feeling it too, for again his thrusting slows until he is simply grinding against you once again and that building pressure falls away. 

Over and over again this happens, Simon edging you both closer and closer before struggling to back off and changing positions in a constant rotation, each position just as mind-numbing as the last now that you are cockdrunk. You find yourself on your knees with your head shoved into the mattress  and then on your side with him pressed up against your back, bouncing on top with his hand desperately cupping at your tits and then returning to where it all started on your back, all the while the constant humping during the calmer moments keeps you primed and yet just far enough off the edge that each new round keeps building towards that desperate end. 

Goddamn his stamina is something of legend, but when he wants something bad enough he will make it work no matter how hard he must push himself. And right now he cannot get enough of you no matter how he tries. 

Fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard you think you might pass out, the room so warm your hair sticks to the sides of your face, the scent of sex pungent with each ragged breath shared between your close mouths; every single sense overstimulated to the point of barely being able to process it all. You are perched on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together tight with eyes shut. 

Simon leans in to kiss your raw mouth, but even the contact from your lips makes him gasp from the sensitivity. Your legs are shaking violently now as he’s slowed once more, every muscle pushed to its limit as he rocks his hips into you just because it feels too good to ever stop completely. Both of you are sparkling from head to toe, coated with the speckled dew of perspiration to match the absolute mess Simon has made between your legs. 

Smooth thighs glisten with that warm, moist, natural lubrication of your cunt as it dribbles out of you and onto the sheets beneath to leave a noticeable dark spot on the bed that’s still warm to the touch. Simon’s mouth waters as the taste buds along his tongue prick to life at the sight, begging to savor all your sweet nectar, but he tells himself to not get ahead of things. 

The rest of the night you are going to be his and he will get everything he wants of it all before the end.

Just like you, Simon is out of his goddamn mind with pleasure. The sensation consumes everything inside him until there is nothing left; the only way he can communicate is through breathy groans and staggered grunts as if he is only an animal now. He craves to be the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, the only goddamn thing you need. And that is when he knows that he cannot hold off another second. 

Without warning he pulls out of you only briefly so that he can aggressively flip you over onto your back, getting into position by kneeling in front of you as he throws your legs onto his broad, sculpted shoulders before he grips your hips and instantly re-enters you. This is it, though he can’t barely speak, it’s gonna happen whether he is ready or not so he is going to be damned sure to make it go off with a fucking bang.

Again Simon picks up his desperate pace, his abs dripping with sweat as they contract and release after each desperate thrust. Those brown eyes close off to the rest of the world, just absorbing every last second of that mind-numbing goodness that he can before he blows.

“F-fuck, Simon...mmmm…” you whine your plea as you can feel that warmth rising harshly in the pit of your stomach, “p-please… d-d-don’t stop.”

Your mind is all static, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it; it’s overwhelming in its intensity that you actually aren’t entirely sure you want to come yet. If you could just stay suspended in this moment forever, you’d die happy. All that edging has done its job just as intended though and with a few more strong thrusts of him deep in your core, that is it: like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your orgasm rips through you with such force you nearly bolt off the bed as your back arches and your hips buck harshly against him. 

A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he milks his cock inside you, coating your walls in his cum until he has no more left in him to give. He sounds like a wild animal and it makes your body vibrate with exhilaration; you are the one to make him come with such force he is reduced to more basic instincts. 

You fall back against the bed as your body shakes violently with the force of your orgasm. Never has such intense pleasure overwhelmed you so thoroughly that your limbs tremble uncontrollably before and though the exhaustion overtakes you, it is euphoric. Simon slowly slips himself out of your pussy as he sits back, his overstimulated cock twitching with sensitivity as he removes it from your tightness.

You whimper a little, instantly missing the feeling of him stretching you out and honestly wishing he would have just stayed inside even longer, but you know if you don’t have even a small break that you are not going to survive.

His strong hands hold your vibrating legs apart as he sits back on the mattress exhausted and a million miles away as he watches as his cum dribbles out of your pussy like honey; goddamn did he stuff you to the brim. All you can do is lay there with your eyes shut tight, heart thudding against your ribs as you focus all your remaining brain power on breathing. From your head to the tips of your toes you sparkle with perspiration as if you are decked out in diamonds that shimmer in the low light of the room.

“Christ Simon…gonna kill me,” you chuckle lightly as your mouth finally is able to do something other than hang open. 

Eyes still closed, the sensation of his lips brushing against your inner thigh catches your attention. “Not…yet,” his low, gruff voice hits your ears from between your legs, accent heavy with his fatigue. Why did that sound like a promise?

Your mouth is already forming the question when it instantly dies on your tongue as you become aware of a firm grip from those strong hands spreading your legs open even further as his body slides off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor to sit on his knees with his face at optimal level with your pussy.

“Simon?” you ask hastily as you struggle up to your elbow to see those dark eyes peer up at you just over the mound of your sex. 

The corner of his mouth is barely visible, but you can see it upturn. He may have come, but he is nowhere near finished yet. “Still fuckin’ hungry for ya,” he growls before descending down into the ecstasy of the space in between your thighs. 

Simon just needs to buy time until he can get it up again…good thing his tongue is always ready to go. Sharp features are instantly soaked as he dives in without hesitation, the scent of your arousal instantly clinging to his cheeks and making his cock begin to twitch. His mouth is filled with a combination of both of your flavors as his tongue does what it does best: find your clit like a pleasure-seeking missile. He is ready to get completely lost in you all over again, this time with his first favorite activity and all you can do is hold on as he straps you to his face.

Let the feast on your pussy continue…it’s gonna be a long fucking while until he’s done with you.

Tagging: @llelannie @thicksexxualtension @cheolsblkwife @cum-tea-and-towels @sillylittlereader @mesyakee

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter Six

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: angry Col, swearing, M*gan F*x but she goes away soon, emotional Col, Presley being an angel, golden retriever/zero brain cell having Cash, a mushy surprise ending

There's a lot going on in this one, y'all, so buckle up. Hope you enjoy! The smut is returning soon, I promise!

Colson

As I drive, I can’t for the life of me figure out why Cash would ever give Megan Presley’s number.

I was originally planning on going home, but I change my mind and take the exit to Cash’s place instead. I pull up and search for his car, parking when I spot it. I hop out quickly and storm up to the door. Whereas last night I waited until I was calmer to reach out to Megan, there’s not a patient bone in my body.

I pound on the door and when Cash opens it, he flashes that goofy smile of his. But when he sees me, the smile falls. “Kells?”

“I’m coming in,” I tell him, and push my way inside.

Cash shuts the door behind himself and cautiously approaches me. “What’s going on?” he asks worriedly.

“Why are you giving people your sister’s number?” I snap. I’m breathing hard and seeing red. I’m furious.

Cash’s brow furrows, his eyes filling with confusion. “Huh?”

I stare at him like he’s dumb. “Megan Fox?”

Cash looks confused and then realization washes over his face. “Ohhh,” he says with a slow nod. “Yeah. Ran into her at a restaurant and she was chatting with me. Said she likes my sister’s look and wanted to reach out to her about some modeling.”

I go still for a long few moments. Then, I let out a breathless laugh. Fucking Megan. Always the lying manipulator. The fight goes out of me and I completely deflate, going to sit on Cash’s couch. I drop my head into my hands and rub my eyes. He follows me, keeping his distance like I’m a rabid dog.

“Why…why is that bad?” he asks slowly.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. I totally forgot: he doesn’t know about me and Megan. Our relationship began and ended before he joined us on tour. 

“Cash, I’m sorry,” I say, full of remorse. “I’m an asshole.”

Cash frowns and sits on the other leg of the couch. “I’m so confused,” he says.

“Megan is my ex,” I say. 

Cash blinks and then nods. “Oh. Got it.”

“She isn’t actually interested in Presley’s modeling skills,” I say.

Cash slumps. “She was trying to get to you. Fuck. I’m so sorry, Kells,” he says, brown eyes filled with guilt.

I shake my head. “Don’t be,” I say. “If I had been in your shoes, I would've done the same thing.”

“So what did she want?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. “She texted Pres some bullshit trying to convince me to talk to her. It worked,” I mutter. “She wants me back. Obviously I turned her ass down.”

Cash winces. “I’m sorry, man, I didn’t know.”

“Exactly, so there’s no need to be sorry,” I assure him. “I’m sorry for barging in here making accusations.”

“You’re all good, brother,” Cash says cheerfully, and just like that, all is well again.

“I gotta go talk to Presley,” I sigh, and Cash nods, walking me to the door. “Love you, man. Sorry again.”

“It’s all good,” Cash assures me. “You and my sister doing okay?”

I can’t help but smile. “Yeah,” I reply. “We’re great.”

There are many reasons that I love Presley Carver. 

Her sense of humor and her laugh. Her compassion. Her creativity. Her gentleness. The way she listens and understands me. The way she just gets me. 

But I fall in love with her even more when instead of reacting to my confession with anger, she gets up and hugs me. 

I’m completely shocked when her arms slide around my neck, but I’m not going to fight it. I wrap my arms around her waist in a fierce hug, holding her to me so tightly that my arms tremble a little. Suddenly, I’m overcome with emotion. I can’t even really process it right now.

“Are you okay?” she asks, playing gently with the hair at the nape of my neck.

“I…I’m not sure,” I admit, closing my eyes, comforted by her touch.

Presley sighs and snuggles me closer. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

“You’re not mad?” I ask.

“No,” she says, rubbing my back. “You did what you had to do to figure out who betrayed you. It makes sense. Do you feel better knowing no one actually did?”

“Much better,” I say. “I should’ve never believed a word Megan said.”

“It’s okay. It’s over now,” Presley soothes. “How can I make you feel better?”

I can think of a few ways, but for now, I just need to be close to her. I bend to wrap her legs around my waist, scooping her into my arms. She clings to me as I carry us upstairs to our room and settle her on the bed. She reaches for me and I let her pull my head to her chest, her long nails gliding against my scalp in a way that makes me shiver with pleasure. 

“You know I would never go back to her, right?” I mumble into her chest.

“Of course.” Presley’s voice is quiet. Even and calm. It soothes me even more. “I know you love me, Col. You do a perfect job of showing it.”

I relax even more, most of the tension now gone from my body. I close my eyes and hold my girlfriend close. “How did I get so lucky?” I ask.

Presley’s fingers continue moving in my hair, slow and soothing. “I ask myself that same question every day,” she admits.

I look up at her. She smiles at me, those green eyes so beautiful and full of love, and I know all at once that I want to marry her. There’s no more fear or doubt. This girl is my future wife. I lift my face to hers and kiss her, trying to convey all my love with the gesture. My heart pounds at the thought of putting a ring on her finger, giving her my last name. I just hope I’m lucky enough for her to say yes. 

Presley

Colson has been weird ever since the Megan thing, and it’s making me sick.

He’s been at the studio way more often, sometimes leaving before I’m even awake. When he gets home, he avoids me. I have no idea what I did wrong, but my mind is moving a million miles a minute. Does he want Megan back? Is he regretting moving so fast with me? 

I’ve been an anxious mess all fucking day, so when Colson finally texts me, my hands tremble so hard that my phone clatters to the ground. When I pick it up, I curse. A huge crack runs right down the center of the screen. My lip trembles and I sink to the ground, taking deep breaths as my eyes burn. I will not cry right now. I won’t. 

After composing myself, I carefully open up Colson’s message. Sophie’s on her way over. I frown in confusion, liking the message. I don’t respond otherwise. His coldness is scaring me and I don’t want to reply in case it triggers a conversation about him ending things. I’m glad, at least, that I won’t have to be alone anymore. 

Sure enough, Sophie arrives quickly. I let her in and immediately, she can tell I’m upset. “Oh, pet,” she says, wrapping me in a hug. Her touch is what finally breaks me and the tears well over. “Shhh, you’re okay, love,” she soothes.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I admit miserably. “Colson has been so distant. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m sure,” Sophie says softly. She pulls back from the hug. “You know what? Let’s go out.”

I blink at her. “Yeah?”

Sophie nods. “Yeah. Can I borrow a dress?”

“Of course,” I say.

Upstairs, Sophie and I take our time getting dressed, doing our hair and makeup, and making ourselves look pretty. Sophie insists on going somewhere nice, so I decide on a blue satin dress that hugs my curves and makes my legs look even longer than they already are. I slide into a pair of heels and look at myself in the mirror. My long hair is swept up into a pretty updo and my makeup is flawless. It feels good to dress up again. It just sucks knowing this isn’t for Colson.

“You look amazing,” Sophie says, coming to stand beside me in front of the mirror. “Let’s go out. Forget about Colson being weird.”

I nod, determined to have a good night. “Let’s go.”

Sophie and I have dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in the city, and we end up having a great time. We each have a glass of wine and the food is incredible. Once we’re finished eating, I feel so much better. I don’t even care if Colson wants to act weird. He can do whatever he wants.

“Ready to go?” Sophie asks after we pay the bill. I nod and get to my feet.

“Let me just freshen up quickly,” I say. Sophie nods and I make a detour to the bathroom. I touch up my lipgloss and fluff my hair. When I get home, I want Colson to see what he’s been missing out on for days of weirdness. 

Sophie and I go to her car and take off towards home. I busy myself with checking notifications on my phone and I’m so distracted that I don’t notice we’ve gone a different way until Sophie is pulling the car to the side of the road. My brow furrows.

“Where are we?” I ask.

Sophie hands me an envelope that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. Her expression is a perfect poker face. “Hop out and open it, babe,” she says. I do as I’m told, tearing open the envelope while I wait for Sophie to join me, but instead, she speeds off. My eyes widen in shock.

“Hey!” I call after her, so confused. What the hell is going on? It’s then that I notice where I am. I look up in awe. 

It’s dark outside, so the twinkling lights are even more noticeable. I’m at some sort of greenhouse with plants and fairy lights twinkling everywhere. It’s stunning. I tear my eyes away to pull the card out of the envelope. I blink slowly before reading it.

Meet me in the middle of the greenhouse. Xo colson 

Startled, I tuck the note back into its envelope and step into the greenhouse. I swallow hard and wander towards the middle, looking around as I do. This place is absolutely stunning with all its greenery, flowers, and sparkling lights. It smells beautiful, too, like fragrant flowers. Finally, I look forward and that’s when I spot my boyfriend.

I think, for not the first time, that Colson is pure wonder.

He’s the most stunning person I’ve ever seen, of any gender. His cheekbones and eyelashes should be illegal. His lips are soft and his eyes are twinkling and warm. However he wears his hair he looks amazing, but I love it just like this, slightly shaggy and long. He’s wearing a suit that hugs his body perfectly, and fleetingly, I want to ask him to turn around so I can see his butt. An almost hysterical giggle bubbles out of me. 

“What the hell is going on?” I ask as I stop a few feet in front of him.

Colson’s eyes slowly wander my body. “You look stunning,” he says.

“Col,” I say, shaking my head. “What is happening here?”

Colson’s throat bobs and he steps a little closer to me. “Pres,” he says.

“Yeah?” I ask skeptically, taking in his nervous body language. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been weird the past couple of days,” he says, eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, my heart starting to race. I’m lost. 

Colson wets his lips and steps closer, taking my hands. His thumbs rub over my knuckles and just his touch is enough to soothe me slightly. “Presley.” His voice is a little croaky and he clears his throat. “We’ve been through a lot together. I still can’t believe I fell in love with my guitarist’s sister.”

I can’t help but smile, squeezing his hands. “Me neither.”

Colson grins and kisses my knuckles. “I’ve never been so happy,” he admits. “You make me better, baby. You make me want to be happy. You make me want to take care of myself. You inspire me every single day.”

My heart starts to race as I listen to him, and my ears start to ring. Oh my god. Is this really happening? Is he going to–

Colson drops onto a knee in front of me.

I gasp, bringing my hands to my mouth. “Colson,” I squeak.

He smiles and flicks his hair out of his eyes. He fishes into his pocket and comes out with a black box the size of a ring. My breath completely leaves me and my eyes start to sting. “Oh my god. Oh my god,” I whisper into my hands.

Colson laughs and meets my eyes. “Presley Maeve Carver,” he says. “I’ve never loved anything more than I love you. I don’t want to live without you, baby. Please don’t make me.” He bites his lip as he pops open the box and my eyes go huge. The ring is massive and stunning and so perfect. “Will you marry me?” he asks.

My tears spill over and my knees buckle, and I fall to my knees in front of him, grabbing his face. I can barely speak through my tears but I nod adamantly. “Yes,” I say tightly. Colson beams and hugs my waist, pulling me close. We kiss deeply and slowly, my hands glued to his face, unable to stop touching him and feeling him and breathing him in. Holy shit. Colson just proposed. 

When we finally pull back from the kiss, we’re both breathing hard and my heart is pounding so hard it’s making me a little dizzy. Colson takes my shaking left hand and slides the ring onto my finger. I gasp when it’s on my hand and I stare at it in awe. “Cols,” I say. “You just proposed.”

Colson laughs and holds my face, kissing me gently. “I did.”

“You just asked me to marry you.”

“Yes, that’s what proposing means,” he teases and I lean in to nip at his lip. He laughs, eyes twinkling. 

“Colson,” I say. “You’re my fiance.” 

Colson grins widely. “And you’re mine. I love you, Pres.”

“I love you, too, holy shit,” I say, lunging forward to kiss him again. Colson chuckles into the kiss and holds me close, and that’s when I hear the cheers. We pull apart and I look around. There’s Sam with his camera. The entire band is here and Cash’s eyes look wet as he holds up his phone, snapping pictures. 

“This is why you’ve been acting so weird!” I exclaim and Colson laughs, nodding. I turn to Sophie. “You knew!”

Sophie snickers. “I sure did. That’s why I insisted we dress up.”

“Oh my god,” I say. I’m so overwhelmed but I’ve never felt joy like this before. I’m shaking hard and I look down at my ring again. I can’t even believe this is real life. I’m marrying Colson. I’m going to be his wife. Presley Baker. I’m going to have a husband. Holy shit. 

Surrounded by the people I love, I kiss my fiance again. I can’t believe how quickly life went from feeling meaningless to this. I’m never, ever going to let this man go. I pour all my life into our kisses and hold him close, hoping he knows just how much I love him, knows that I’ll do anything for him. That I’ll be with him until our time on this earth is over. 

Taglist:@triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen @feroniakutenpuu @hxllywoodwhxree

[drabbles-mc]

Babysitter

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: If you're up for it, could you do -insert whoever you want- and the reader either talking about leaving their kid with Chucky or actually leaving their kid with Chucky. He is a sweet strange bird that we don't get enough of 🥰

Warnings: language, Angel being a protective dad, Chucky being the absolute best human on the planet

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I would take a bullet for Chucky with no hesitation. I love that man and I’m so glad he has found a family in Mayans. I love including him in my stories because he’s just??? The sweetest.

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“It would just be for a couple hours!” you sat on the bar stool next to Angel, “You’re telling me that she can’t stay here for a couple hours? She’s a baby, Angel. It’s not like she can get up and run off.”

“I’m not leaving her with these motherfuckers,” he shook his head.

Angel loved his brothers in the MC. He would take a bullet for any one of them. Which is why it was so surprising to you that he didn’t want to leave your daughter with them. He didn’t mind it when you brought her around the clubhouse, as long as one of the two of you always had eyes on her. He was fiercely protective of her, which was adorable, but it also made it difficult for the two of you to get any time for yourselves. She was six months old and it had been much longer than that since the two of you had some quality couple time.

“Angel, they know how to feed and change a baby. Coco has more kids than we do!”

“Then he can go watch those ones!” he was adamant, “I ain’t leavin’ her here.”

While the two of you were arguing, Chucky appeared from the back room with a few cases of beer. He saw the car seat sitting on the bar top and immediately set down the boxes to come and investigate. He’d met your daughter on a few occasions but there were always so many other people around.

He gently rocked the car seat with a smile, whispering things to her that neither you nor Angel could hear, but you heard her contagious giggles. You turned and looked to see who had her laughing like that, and you couldn’t hide your surprise when you saw the gentle, loving look in Chucky’s eyes as he let her reach and hold onto his prosthetic fingers.

Your heart melted at the way he was smiling at her and the words came tumbling out of your mouth, “You wanna hold her?”

He looked up at you, eyes as wide as his smile, “I would be honored.”

You laughed quietly as you stood up and carefully unhooked the straps that kept her safely in the seat. You lifted her up and out before passing her off to Chucky, who cradled her in his arms as if it was second nature to him. Chucky had always been a bit of a caretaker by nature but this was surprising even to you.

“Like you’ve done it a million times before,” you commented as you watched him bounce her gently on his hip.

“Maybe not a million, but close,” he didn’t take his eyes off the baby.

“Oh yea? You have kids?” you really never gave a lot of thought to what Chucky’s life was like when he wasn’t working at the scrapyard. You knew that he had quite a long history, but you never asked about the details of it.

He shook his head, “Haven’t had the good fortune of that yet. But I spent a lot of time with Jax Teller’s boys when they were babies.”

It was the first time that he had spoken to you about his life in Charming. He spared a momentary glance over at you as he said it before returning all of his attention to the baby on his hip. But even in that split second you could see the wistful look in his eyes. Sometimes you forgot about the fact that he uprooted his entire life to come to Santo Padre.

“Do you have plans tonight, Chucky?” you asked.

Both he and Angel whipped their heads to look at you, their expressions vastly different. Angel knew exactly where this line of questions was going and he wanted none of it. Chucky, on the other hand, had never looked more excited.

He shook his head, “Not a single plan in place, Y/N.”

You smiled, “You think you could watch our little pumpkin here for a couple hours while Angel and I get some Mommy and Daddy time?” you drummed your fingers on the bar, “It’d only be for a couple hours. Just to get some dinner and alone time.”

“It would be one of my life’s greatest pleasures,” everything he said always sounded so sincere.

You chuckled, nodding, “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Y/N,” Angel gently wrapped his hand around your arm, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You nodded, “Sure, what’s up?”

He tugged you towards the opposite side of the clubhouse, getting the two of you out of earshot from Chucky, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What?”

“You just wanna leave our baby girl here with Chucky?”

You shrugged, “Why not? He seems like a goddamn baby whisperer.”

“Yea but—”

“And you heard him—he’s been around kids a ton before. Look at him,” you nodded towards Chucky, who was pretending to do some sort of ballroom dance with your daughter, “There is not an ounce of uncertainty in that man’s body. You telling me that any of the guys are ever that confident while holding her?”

Angel sighed, not able to deny that you had a point. Your daughter could smell fear from a mile away, and she could definitely sense when her tíos were getting nervous whenever they held her. You found it amusing because you could literally see the panic set into the eyes of the very tough group of bikers once she started to sound like she was about to cry. They would instantly try to locate you and glad you down to make you put out the fire that they inadvertently started.

Despite all of that, your daughter seemed happy as a clam as she waltzed around the clubhouse with Chucky. You could tell by the expression on Angel’s face that he saw what you saw, he just didn’t want to admit it.

“C’mon, baby,” you smiled and nudged his shoulder, “They make a good pair.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, “Two and a half hours tops. We’ll skip dessert if we have to.”

You beamed, clapping your hands, “Oh this is going to be amazing.” You pressed a kiss to Angel’s cheek before bounding over to Chucky, unable to try and tone down the huge smile on your face, “You really meant it about tonight?”

He nodded, “Of course. Anything for you. For her,” he looked at your daughter with a smile.

“You’re a gem!” you immediately started formulating a timetable in your brain, thinking out loud, “Okay I gotta jet home real quick to take care of a few things. Plus I’ll pack a bag of essentials for her to have here with you. And I’ll shower and get ready for dinner. I should be able to get back here by…6ish? Would that be alright?”

“That would be perfect.”

Angel sat back, watching the two of you make plans together while Chucky held your daughter on his hip. Despite his initial urge to reject the idea, he had to admit that there wasn’t the same knot in his gut about the idea of Chucky babysitting as there had been about literally any of the other guys. Chucky’s brain operated on a different level from the rest of them for sure, but realistically he was probably the most responsible out of all of them. Which was a strange thought.

You waved Angel over so that you could have him walk out to the car with you and the baby. You watched as Chucky carefully got her situated back into her car set, buckling and tucking her under her blanket. You wrapped Chucky in a hug, promising him that you would be back by six.

Angel carried the car set and got it situated in the back seat before turning to you, a smile on his face, “Drive safe, alright?”

You raised your eyebrows, “Wow, no smart comments?”

He chuckled, pulling you into a hug, “I’ll keep ‘em to myself…for now.”

“A true gentleman,” you laughed into his chest for a moment before pulling back to kiss him, “I’ll be back in a couple hours, okay?”

He nodded, “Whatever you need. Text me when you get home. I love you.”

You gave him another quick peck on the lips, “I love you too.”

You had packed everything that you could possibly think of into the diaper bag that you were bringing to the clubhouse. You had clothes, toys, formula, blankets, pillows, and of course diapers. It was impressive how much you were able to jam into the bag. Your daughter was babbling happily in her car seat as she watched you get everything set for her stay with Chucky. It was the first time that she was going to be away from both you and Angel for more than a couple minutes, and you were much more nervous about it than you wanted to let on. Not that you didn’t trust Chucky, but it was tough to leave your baby, even if you wanted some one-on-one time with her father.

When you rolled into the clubhouse, Angel was standing outside with Chucky and a few of the guys. Taking a deep breath you threw the car in park and got out, slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder before opening the back door and getting the car seat out. All of the guys looked at you expectantly as you approached the front steps. You could tell that they all had a hard time wrapping their heads around the fact that you were really about to leave Chucky in charge of your first and only child.

“Didn’t know that this hand-off had turned into a group affair,” you chuckled as you gently set the car seat down on the deck so you could get the bag off your shoulder.

“We just didn’t think that Angel would ever let anyone watch her,” Bishop piped in with a laugh, “Had to see it for ourselves.”

You made small talk with the group of them for a couple minutes before politely hinting that you and Angel had places to be—that was the whole point of this anyway. You unclipped your daughter from her car seat and picked her up, giving her a hug and a kiss before handing her to Angel so that he could do the same.

“I’m sure things will be fine, but if anything happens or if you have any questions at all, don’t hesitate to call me or Angel,” you gave Chucky a hug, “Thank you again for doing this. If anyone has got this under control, it’s you.”

You could see the pride on Chucky’s face as he soaked up what you were saying. Angel had the baby perched on his hip as he spoke to Chucky, “Anything happens to her and I’ll gut you like a fish, got it?”

Chucky nodded, not flinching one bit, “I accept that.”

Angel gave a nod of approval before handing the baby over, giving her one more kiss before doing so. He rested a hand on Chucky’s shoulder, “Thank you for doing this, Chucky.”

You didn’t know if Chucky had even heard what Angel had said—he was already enthralled with your daughter. You chuckled and shook your head as you tugged Angel back towards the car. You could hear the guys as you walked away. Coco must’ve picked up the diaper bag because you heard him call after you to ask if you had filled the thing with rocks instead of diapers, because that’s the only way it could be that heavy.

“What’d you put in there, querida?” Angel asked with a laugh as he got into the car.

“Just the essentials.”

Dinner was quiet, and just what the two of you needed. And, much to your surprise, you didn’t spend the whole evening worrying about if things were going okay back at the clubhouse. You trusted that Chucky would call if he needed assistance. You doubted that he did, though. Angel didn’t seem too flustered over it either. He checked his phone a few times just to make sure that there weren’t any missed calls or texts, but other than that he let it lie.

When the two of you got back to the clubhouse, everything was quiet. It wasn’t nearly late enough for it to be so dead, but you didn’t hear music or ruckus of any kind coming from the clubhouse. It was almost eerie.

You and Angel walked into the clubhouse to see that a large space in the center of it had been cleared of any and all furniture. Chucky had laid out all of the blankets and pillows that you had sent and clearly had come up with some of his own, and made quite the expansive play area for your daughter in the middle of the floor. She was fast asleep now, tucked safely in her favorite blanket with stuffed animals surrounding her. Chucky was sitting cross-legged next to her, just watching her to make sure that she stayed happily in her little dream world.

The icing on the cake was all of Angel’s brothers sprawled out across the blankets as well, also fast asleep. You giggled quietly as you leaned into Angel’s side, both of you walking over attempting not to wake anyone up, but especially the baby.

“Looks like you’ve had things perfectly under control here,” you whispered as you sank down and sat next to Chucky.

“Smoothest sailor out at sea,” he said back quietly with a nod.

“The boys can stay here,” you gently nudged Chucky’s shoulder, “But this little lady needs to come home with me. I’ll come by for the blankets and pillows tomorrow.”

You carefully got your daughter situated in her car seat without waking her up. Your daughter was luckily a very heavy sleeper, which would serve her well growing up surrounded by motorcycles. She hardly even flinched as you buckled her in and draped the blanket back over her again.

You hugged Chucky tight as you thanked him again, and you could tell that he felt it with his whole body, “I really appreciate you doing this for us, Chucky. Would you mind if we called on you again down the road?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” he looked back and forth between you and Angel as the three of you stood on the steps to the clubhouse, “Thank you, Angel Reyes, Y/N, for trusting me.”

“You’ve earned it, man,” Angel said with a nod.

The smile that spread across Chucky’s face could’ve melted the coldest heart in the world. The three of you said one more round of goodbye’s to each other before you and Angel headed off to the car, your sleepy daughter now in tow.

Once she was situated and you and Angel had gotten buckled in, you turned over to him with a smile on your face. He shook his head, not even needing to look at you to know that you had a smug expression.

“Just fucking say it,” he said with a laugh.

“I told you so!” you said in a loud whisper as you playfully slapped his arm.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he threw the car into drive, “Yea, yea. You told me so.”

[silvysartfulness]

Xue Yang and Hunger/Food

For a character with so comparatively little screentime, Xue Yang probably spends as much of it interacting with food as he does committing acts of violence and still I haven't seen a lot of meta about it! So - tough job, someone's gotta do it, etc. Buckle up!

We know that Xue Yang grew up ”without parents or money” and that he could only watch others eat sweets ”with envy”. And that he made himself a vow that ”once I became successful, I would always carry candy with me so I'd never be without again.”

A hungry street kid, much like Wei Wuxian (who could be argued to harbour that same trauma-instilled hunger, and whose obsession with alcohol fills a similar niche.)

Both the novel and The Untamed spend a lot of time describing Xue Yang eating, yearning for or otherwise interacting with food. Starting with The Untamed - have a compilation of all the times Xue Yang handles food, eats or has things put in his mouth by others (innuendo absolutely intended)

Xiao Xingchen saving his life and giving him a healing elixir while he's still unconscious.

Eating candy while sharing some with a-Qing.

Food is very serious business, and heaven have mercy upon the merchant trying to fleece Xue Yang - and his new little family - out of proper dinners! He will stab a potato.

No food depicted, but this is a crucial scene in the novel, that the tv-series cut out for inexplicable reasons, with them telling stories around the fire. Xue Yang tells the story of ”a child” that is very clearly himself.

He was promised a plate of pastries if he ran an errand for a stranger, and since he – a penniless orphan – never usually had the chance to eat such things, he delightedly accepted. The errand (sending a ”fuck you” note to some big angry dude the original man had beef with) ended with him beaten, dragged through town by his hair, beaten some more, whipped to the ground, and finally having his hand crushed by the wheels of the cart of the man who sent him on the errand in the first place - Chang Cian. At age seven.

Needless to say, ”the child” never got his sweets. (It's after hearing this story, minus the mangled hand part, that Xiao Xingchen starts leaving candy on his pillow.)

One of the things that really gets to me in this scene is how careful Xue Yang is with his little basket of groceries. Here's disaster scenario number one playing out, facing a super-powerful enemy with the skills to kill him or at the very least tear his current happy life apart – but he damn well takes the time to gently put down the food before fighting. Food is serious business. You don't toss it around or risk losing it!

In the novel, a-Qing pretends that the reason she's so red-eyed and twitchy when she comes home after seeing Xue Yang fighting and orchestrating the death of Song Lan, is because she has been bullied - and Xue Yang attempts to cheer her up by giving her apple slices cut to look like little bunnies. Food as a love language!

More grocery shopping, and again, even despite the absolutely dire circumstances, it's rather carefully dropped even as he's literally stabbed. In the novel, this scene has an added apple that he's in the middle of eating as Xiao Xingchen attacks him.

This breaks me a little bit. Food as a love language. Not only is Xue Yang absolutely certain Xiao Xingchen will come back to life any moment, but he makes sure to prepare a romantic candle lit dinner for two to celebrate apologize. He even pours him a drink!

Back to being fed things, in this case with the pros of it being by the hands of his necromancy idol - and the cons of it being absolutely awful food. Never meet your heroes. :C

He made the antidote taste sweet. He literally made candy flavoured antidote to his own poison. Nerd.

Everything is pain here. Holding on to that last piece of candy for over seven years. The one sweet thing our resident sugar-addict couldn’t bring himself to eat, because then the last thing Xiao Xingchen gave him would be gone...

”Once upon a time there was a child who loved sweets very much, but because he had no parents or money, he could never have such things. So he'd been dreaming – if only someone could give him a candy every day... How nice that would be!”

Food... as a love language... 😭

In the novel there's also a fun extra chapter, called Villainous Friends, that follows Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao hanging out for one day, in the earlier days of their acquaintanceship.

During that one chapter, Xue Yang is constantly stuffing his mouth – the very first opening lines describes him eating dumplings in sweet rice wine, and then knocking over the vendor's stall as a helpful bit of critique that he ought to make his food sweeter.

”The dumplings were nice. Add more sugar next time.”

Then, the moment he meets up with Jin Guangyao (who is complaining about having to reimburse the vendor for the wrecked stall, since Xue Yang is a Jin guest disciple at the time) he shoplifts some tanghulu (which his friend also patiently pays for.)

They go to Xue Yang's private playground fierce corpse research center and have tea. (Xue Yang makes tea with cut-out tongues for extra spice. We as a fandom don't talk much about this, which may indeed be the appropriate response.)

”This is tea I prepared with my own hands. Why don't you want to drink it?”

”It's precisely because you prepared it with your own hands that I don't want to drink it.”

They then head off to a brothel to try to pick a very drunk Jin Guangshan up from his daily whoring, and Xue Yang swipes an apple along the way that he happily eats while waiting.

In short, food is a huge theme for Xue Yang.

The hunger instilled in him as a child never quite left, translated into an ever-unsated hunger for everything - strength, knowledge, the freedom and power to do as he pleases, never again having to depend on the cruel whims of strangers.

And he always carries candy with him, so he will never have to be without again.

[fictional-thoughts]

Poisoned

the mandalorian x fem!reader

warnings: smut, rough messy sex, slight dom/sub elements, sex pollen (dub/con), language, breath-play, fingering, one (1) spank

words: 6k+

a/n: this is genuinely the smuttiest thing i’ve ever written...enjoy

The Mandalorian is walking too fast, he’s gaining speed, leaving her behind in the foggy dark green forest. She’s desperately trying to keep up but her body’s seizing up and trembling and soaked in sweat. His cloak sways behind him and she’s try to not feel dizzy as the tanned colour of it clouds her blurry vision; but the planet is spinning in time with her twisting nerves and white hot muscles.

He’s clumsy, ducking under banches almost too late and his boots catch on thick veiny vines that litter the forest floor. The air smells damp and of pollen, of fluorescent flowers, dripping their sickly sweet scents and luring their prey. Deathly and dark violet the bulbous and puffy flowers hang in thick bunches, taunting the bounty hunter, teasing him with their lavender faces.

He should have known something was wrong. It was too silent. Too dark.

“Wait, wait,” she’s sweating under the thick and flexible armour, it feels as if there’s a million suns spanning the vast sky above her, burning down in fury from the gods. Skins slicked and her underclothes are sticking uncomfortably, melting to her frame. Her hairs a mess, damp and knotted and frizzy with humidity. “Damn it, Mando — somethings wrong.”

Mando nearly freezes in his tracks at her words voice high and broken; fuck, he knew it. She’s got it too, she has be feeling the same, weakened, chest constricted, halting breath in the lungs and skin burning like a forest fire, tongue parched and dry in the mouth, it’s death but only slower.

“What did you say?”

She coughs. The pit of her stomach is pulling towards an unseeable object, ripping through muscles in curling motions, thighs and hands trembling. The forest is so dark and bushy and green and lush she’s having trouble telling what is in front of her, eyes bleary and blinking in and out.

She hears the Mandalorian speak and nearly crash into the brushes under her heavy boots, the hot curls of pain unfurl inside her, a caged animal, clawing to be free and rid of her wretched body.

Something is really wrong.

Her hands find a mossy tree trunk and she’s barely keeping herself up, she’s holding her head in her shaking hand and has got her eyes screwed shut to block out the sight of the Mandalorian pushing his way back through the trees to get back to her, his long rifle catching on the vines and boots thumbing on the ground that seems to sway, a gentle and giant seesaw of lush greenness is the planet, twisting into a thousand vines.

He’s getting closer and it’s all she can do but not scream. Don’t, don’t come any closer.

“You okay?” He grips her forearm tight in his gloved hand and her skin erupts in goosebumps, prickling her skin with an override of electricity. Her mouth drops open as a thousand fluttering beings swarm inside her stomach as he’s connected to her.

“Don’t touch me,” she’s frantic and he’s pulling away from her, his gloved hands raised, almost in defence. Her own clammy hands are pulling at the thick straps and buckles of her armour, it’s too tight and she can’t breathe.

The Mandalorians mind is racing, thinking back to every single second they they’ve been on the godforsaken planet, it’s a slipping of details, they’re all a blur, pieces fell where they shouldn’t be and he’s so confused, why can’t he remember what happened to them? Why does it seem to be affecting her more then it is him?

Then he realizes.

The Mandalorian growls a soft swear, “shit,” and she whips her head to look at him, pupils dilated and forehead glazed with a sheen of sweat, she’s a breathtaking disaster.

“What?”

“This is your fault.” He’s harsh, condescending. He angrily snaps his rifle over his shoulder to free up his movements, he’s handling the weapon roughly and she’s watching with slight awe. Every second he’s in hot pain, it’s pulling him closer to her every second and now he’s absolutely certain. “Now —” he tries to explain but she’s already lashing out in that bright red anger.

“You bastard, how is this my fault?” She stumbles and nearly falls but catches herself with some dignity, ignoring the Mandalorians hand moving to help her, if need be. Her raised voice causes his chest to lurch and he’s trying not to look directly at her. He’s now absolutely certian and trying to remain calm.

-

They’d been wandering through the thick forest, stepping through shallow streams and climbing over moss covered rocks protruding from the planets crust. She’d been walking along, weapons slung across her chest, just absolutely entranced by the canopy of violet flowers that hung in thick and heavy looking bunches over their heads; the red suns of this planets atmosphere did their best to shine through the long winding leaves of the plants, but as the bounty hunters continued on, the darker their surroundings became.

She was ignoring the Mandalorian, angry at him once again for getting them lost, but his argument in retaliation was she had simply forgotten to pack the ships tracker back at base. Packed into a steaming argument she then proceeded to send him surly glares and refuse to speak.

The Mandalorian didn’t mind much, he liked the quiet, and quite honestly, he enjoyed it more when he knew she weren’t going to start speaking. He’d never been much of a talker, but going on this mission with a fellow (amateur) hounty hunter, he’s been forced to converse, pleasantly or not.

They had been walking under the flowers for ages, time didn’t exist there, a loop of the hours that dragged on forever. Then that is where everything was her fault.

She touched a small fluorescent flower, curled her slim fingers around the velvety petal she smoothed skin of the plant under her palm and turned to examine the bright pollen covering her flesh.

She caught his gaze for a moment, a hazed over kind of glint in her eyes, then looked down at her pollen covered hand, then back at the innocent looking plant, a light violet powder covered her hand, and imprinted on the large petals was her very handprint.

“It’s just a plant. We should keep moving.” He turned and strode away, pushing down the idea that she had looked beautiful, surrounded by soft colours, it was different than her usual aesthetic. She only smiled, her frustration melted away, and brushed the rest of the pollen from her palm, together they watched it soak into the air, soft and aesthetic it slid between the panels of sunlight that peeked through.

The faces of flowers watched the hunters leave the forest; poisoned and deadly.

-

“You gotta be fucking kidding. Fuck.” The Mandalorian sighs deeply and he’s trying not to stare as she’s stripping from her metallic armour, her hurried fingers untying the laced up straps of her chest piece he’s kneeling down and helping her before she can yell at him. His gloved hands graze the skin of her collarbone exposed between the laces of her white undershirt and she’s whimpering.

She can’t strip right here. He’s not sure what will happen if she does. “Stop.”

“I said don’t fucking touch me,” she’s pushing him away and glaring, dark and deep.

“Do you know what that was?” He’s cooled down, thinking of what to do, that pulsing and burning need is brimming within his chest, begging and a slur of sinful thoughts seep into his mind. “The flowers?”

She’s sunk down to the brushy forest floor amongst the fluffy ferns and little white dotted flowers with red cheeked and filled with fierce bemusement she answers him. “The hell should I know.”

His shoulders droop with his heavy sigh and he’s scanning the trees around them, wondering if it’s the pollen affecting his sight too or if the wooded plants really do look as if they are bending over them, creaking and contorting into an arch as if to protect the two hunters, watch over them. “I’ve heard of these before, and this has to be it — why you’re in pain.”

The Mandalorian makes no comment of his own deplorment, controling desire morphed into threads of pain. He’s keeping it under wraps but having her so close to him, so bare and soft, as much as she exists to him as an enemy rather than one he’s thought of in such a way its throwing his attention askew.

“I’m not in pain,” she’s snapping at him again, short words and a steely tone she’s already turning a cold shoulder, never accepting the fact that she’s not immortal.

Inwardly she knows she’s lying, but it’s a half lie, she’s in pain but it’s a familiar feeling, the warmth pooling inside her, trembling hands and thighs, she can just feel the dampness at her core, hot and slick she’s absolutely soaked.

“I’m just —” she cant string the words together, looking up at the stern Mandalorian she’s fighting back the urge, the longing and pathetic urge to crawl into his lap and have him fuck her till she can’t breathe; to sink himself deep inside her with a hand around her neck and to just fuck her senseless.

“I know.”

-

They’re back at the ship, the night air is cold and there are few stars alive in the sky. The Mandalorian and her are only feet apart, he’s across from her in his chair, back straight and unmoving, facing the dash. She’s sitting on the ground with her back against the rough cooling wall, the metal grated floor is hard and her ass is sore but if she’s sitting anywhere else she’s close to the Mandalorian and she can’t have that.

WInd howls outside and the huge trees sway in the darkness outside the Mandalorians ship.

She’s got her eyes closed, jawline accented in the semi darkness she’s leaning back to the wall, bottom lip caught under her teeth she’s biting down harshly and tapping her foot in an anxious beat as sweat drops past her sternum and slides over her skin between her breasts, she feels every milimeter of her skin crawl and its rolling in waves, the slick and pushing arousal, its sliding under her skin and got its grip on her chest so tight shes stripped her shirt off.

Her forgotten armour and boots lay in the middle of the open space within the ship.

This isnt ending soon.

The Mandalorian watching his fist curl and uncurl, the wrinkles of the leather gloves he’s wearing bend and fade, he’s unfocused and can only think of her, she’s ten feet away and hasn’t spoken to him since they made it back to his ship. He’s thinking of how she uttered a moan as he brushed her lower back, her eyes closing, slipping into a world where the affects of the pollen are taken care of. 

He’s wondering just how long the effects last when the she speaks up, her voice hoarse and taunt in her lungs. “How the hell is this not having any effect on you?” His fist clench one last time and he’s shifting in his chair, through the visor his eyes close momentairly, pondering of what to say.

“I never said it wasn’t.”

For all the wrong reasons heat pools within her core at the Mandalorians tender voice, smooth and rich its all she can do but imagine how he sounds next to her ear, telling her how good she feels around him, how wet and tight. “You feel this too?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s still blaming her, still wrapped in the idea she’s at fault. How could she have known? In turn, he was at fault as well, getting them lost and failing to recall the deadly flowers.

Then she’s saying something he’d never expect.

“I’m so sorry,” she’s muttering, rubbing the heals of her hands into her eyes, blurring her vision — childlike, innocent. “This is all my fault,” grimacing, she moves her legs to be more comfortable. “It hurts,”

An apology. In the moment the Mandalorian finds it amusing that it takes fucked up pollen fever to force her to apologize for something.

The Mandalorians chest is pinched, painful, and he sighs deeply, she sounds so wrecked, her voice soft, weak. He hears her shifting on the floor and his ears ring witht he rustle of clothing — everything is sensitive. “I know,” he says her name in the short sentence and she’s whimpering in reply.

They could be anywhere, planets away, flying past suns and stars, holed up in dingy towns or broken cities — no, they’re ten feet apart and both have managed to inhale sex pollen straight from the deadly plant itself.

“Mando,” she whimpers again, sliding her hands down her torso, her palms press over her nipples and her back arches; she’s forgetting her hatred for the Mandalorian, letting his annoyance to her everyday life slip from her mind — she’s opened her eyes and he’s there, standing, the shadows curved around him you can only see the outline of his form. Her eyes linger on his arms, his now bare hands and the warmth tugs somewhere deep inside her.

Eyes darkened and filled with a lingering prederatory hilt, she’s pulling herself to her feet, the Mandalorians watching her, a warrior, torn and wrecked, chapped pink parted lips and lashes fluttering over her bright eyes — unstoppable, seductive. He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about her beyond the dealings of companionship, of partners in they crimes they commit.

“We gotta do something about this, Mando.” Its killing her, she’s sure of it. Her eyes break into his beskar, drag over his bulky body.

“There’s nothing... we just wait it out.”

“I can’t,”

“I don’t care.” He’s back to cruel words in the place of his longing rule the flood of things he wants to say, to bend close to your ear and whisper. Fuck me.

She’s stalking closer to him, wetting her lip with her tounge its only moments before something has to happen, its damp and rushed in the hazy red lights inside the ship, they’re furious and watching the Bounty Hunters below.

“I hate you, you know that?” Her words are dripping burning silk — she’s never hated him. And thats her immortal demise, a secret, tucked away in her heart.

“Feelings mutual.” He turns his head to stare into her eyes, her widened and starlike eyes. His own dark eyes trail down past her collarbone and land on her breasts nearly pushed from her tight covering, rising ad falling in time with her breaths. His hands ich to just touch. 

She purrs. “We can hate eachother,” she’s stepped closer to him and he’s not moving, allowing her to invade all idea of personal space she’s so close he can smell her. She seems to forget where she was going with her sentence, looking up at him its like she sees right through him.

“Can we?” His voice breaks through the mask. She chews on the idea, wonders what kind of pretty words it would take to get him to fuck her. Her cunts soaked and throbbing, the push of the material of her pants aren’t helping.

 “Have you ever been with anyone?”

There it is.

“Dont ask stupid questions.” He’s turning away but she’s got a hold of his arm, her warm hand in contact with his is taking ridiculous affect, lurching up and and through his chest the Mandalorians heart is in his throat. “We cant,”

He’s thinking it too.

“Its not wrong,” she’s sliding her hand down to slip her fingers through his, stiring up the growing fire. Its hot and heavy, weighs him down. “Mando, please,” she’s begging, caught on whimpers she’s breathing heavier and heavier. The Mandalorin pulls his hand from her grip, raises it and he’s brushing a forlorn tear from her cheek.

Please. “I can’t stop it,”

He’s slowly going insane, at the touch of her skin something within him snaps and he’s pulling her close, pushing her to the wall of the ships interior, his arms trapping her in. Their breaths match, and she’s so close to him, her eyes softening her mouth opens to beg, of pathetic desperation and drunk on the flowers bitter poison. The Mandalorian stops her, a bare hand agaisnt her mouth he’s silenced her. The touch of their burning skin nearly has her dropping to her knees. She looks into the visor of the hemlet and searches of emotion, a flicker of life behind the face of a machine.

The Mandalorians body is pressed to hers, compact, brimming with the poisonous affections, they’re drowning in the stuff. She shudders in his grasp, the mix of metal and weapons, of leather and the soft material of his shirt, its all too much, burning and keeping her of air its not enough.

He’s looking away from her, forcing himself to keep his cool. Its a rippling fire, lurching and spreading as if alive, the thick coils are heavy. Mando tempts a movement, his cock hard against her and it’s so good — she whines info his hand, her leg slinking up his own, trapping him closer.

“You really don’t know what you do to me, huh?” The Mandalorian’s rough, distracted, caught in grinding out as much friction against her as he can, chasing away the clouding thoughts, screaming at him that everything is wrong.

But those fade, sink into pure silence when her free hand slides up his wrist, nails dug into his skin, she’s pulling his hand away from her lips, her heavy lidded eyes dance with seduction. He’s watching her turn his hand, help him cup her jaw, half spread over the side of her throat, his thumb glides over her lip, she’s turning her head, leaning into his grasp she’s taking the digit between her wet pursed lips, sucking, biting down.

Fuck.

“Please Mando,” hoarse voice in his ears and shooting a pool of warmth straight through him. She’s sinking into the wall, dark eyes pouring into him. Desperate. Longing. “What, you want me to beg?”

Mando freezes. A growl pushes its way through his chest. “No,” she’s ruining him, breaking him apart by the seams. Her brows knitted, eyes wide, pleading. A selfish, dark part of the Mandalorian wants to force her to her knees, maybe turn her front to the wall, press deep into her and fuck the burning urges away.

Her tones smooth and sinking into his skin, drugging him. “Wanna watch me get off? Maybe that’s what you’d like, Mando?”

She pushes him back, forcing stumbling steps, using what’s left of her strength. It’s wickedly wrong, she needs him so bad it hurts. She wants to drop to her knees, taste his cock on her tongue, strip the beskar off, drag her nails down his skin, make him moan her name.

Her words are nearly fucking unbearable. The burning sexual tension hangs in the air, choking them. The ships inside is warm and sticky, her half bare body is covered in sweat, her skin flushed and eyes dark, she matches what earthquakes seem and what passion wishes it could be.

The last dregs of self control fade, his minds hazy with greed and the absence of her burning fever touch has him desperate.

“Get on the floor.”

Quiet. Commanding. She’s obeying instantly and sinks to the floor of his ship, grated metal digging into her flesh, the ground is filthy and gritty and she’s biting back harsh words, only for the moment, thick and heavy need is in place of hatred. Her poisoned gaze burns into him, watching him pull away weapons and leather, heavy cloak and chunks of beskar — not all all of it though.

He’s over her, burning touch that’s melting to her skin. She falls into a moan, her stomach tense with arousal, spreading through her body, following his hands. “Fuck you need to touch me,” everything is begging her to delve into him, rip apart from their restraining history, make amends and build up something new, something in which he can fuck her and hate her at the same time.

And maybe he is.

Through the visor of his helmet, glitching into view, her body spread and displayed, his core deepens, eating him from the inside. Mando pulls her to his lap, her cunt right over his centre, throbbing over his cock. A hot moan drips from the helmet, he closes he eyes, letting her move against him, spine arched beautifully; Mando slides an arm around the small of her back, keeping her close with a spread hand. The other gropes her chest, further pulling down the tight material covering her tits.

“I need—” a whimper slides over her lips, her hands settle over his broad shoulders, drag him closer. “I need something...your hands — fuck — your lips on me.”

“You’re not getting that.” He promises, his helmets not coming off, he’s barely taken any armour off — and she’s bare over him, albeit tight underclothes. His hand slides down her skin, past her navel and dip down past her underclothes, shoving them aside. She gasps loudly, releasing her breath in a shaking moan as his fingertips brush her softness.

That aching pull, it’s deepening and she’ll surely run out of breath before the Mandalorian can properly touch her. She’s forgotten it’s not affected him as much as her — not that it matters, he’s got his hand on her cunt and his dick is hard and thick under her. “Please, oh my god.”

The helmet tilts, the coolness brushing her skin. He’s watching her, arched into his grasp, silently begging for anything. Then he’s curled two fingers into her, gathered in slick and crooked just right and she shrieks, shatters over him. Blood red lips and wild eyes, she’s moving, urging him to fuck her through the drug, bring the heavyness to an end. Its not enough.

She’s falling back, legs untanged with his, she’s gripping him and pulling him close, collasping onto the floor, his hand leaves her for a moment, tugging an empty ache back into her gut. “No, no --” she’s whimpering, “please keep going.”

His hand pushes the mess of hair from her face, looking right into her wretched eyes. Through the rush and anger, he feels a bit of softness, a bit of longing mixed with a likeness, she must be well under the drug, for she’s never been one to beg just that much. His bare hands slide back over her body, dipping past her hipbones and blunt nails dragging down her thighs. Her cunt glistens, Mandos caught in wondering just how she’d taste on his tongue, his head between her thighs, tight around his ears.

“Mando,”

The helmet tilts again and she catches a glimpse of skin, tan under the material and beskar. It’s the column of his throat, leading down where his collarbone would be. The sight sends her into fresh, delicious delirium.

“You need me to fuck you.” He’s buying time, seeing how far she can stretch, the looks of her all soft and longing is turning him on a little too much. It’s not the girl she normally is.

Half a sob curls up, painfully pushing at her throat. She needs him so bad. “Isn’t that fucking obvious.”

There she is.

Without warning he’s over her and his hand on her cunt, two fingers sunk deep in her wetness, pulling her into a painful arch from the grated flooring. She shakes, her hand finds his shoulder and grips tight, nails nearly digging into the thick material of his shirt. Living vicariously through the feeling of his fingers in her cunt, he’s back to thinking just how she’s taste, how she’d writhe and shiver under his tongue. The thoughts are burning through him and his dick is painfully hard — her thigh brushes him and he nearly comes right there.

He’s fucking her slowly, roughly; thumb brushing her clit through the plush wetness of her cunt, she biting down on moans and quivering, lithe in his grasp. “Mando please, I need —” she’s got her eyes squeezed shut, rolling through another wave of wanton poison, it’s bleeding into every nerve.

“I know what you need,” he’s got her. His voice soothes her, his rough hands pull her thigh up, three fingers slathered in her dripping elixir, they’re flat to her clit and pushing in short circles. His touch is chasing away the heat in her skin, derived under influences of lust, she’s collapsing under thick waves of it. She needs his hands, his lips his dick — anything. What the Mandalorian is doing is not enough.

“Mando, just shut up, please —” the slip of his fingers on her clit is sloppy, pressing hard and soaked in her honey. “I need something.” It still hurts, the pollens clamped itself inside her system, taking ahold of her hot muscles, her running heart and flushed skin.

He’s got her pinned, ragged sounds tear from him, the helmets speakers crackle with his breath. Mandos hovered above her, ire trained on her face, down her chest to her breasts rising and falling, pert nipples and soft curves. She’s so damn soft, angelic in a ruined sort of way. Mando groans, her hands found his cock, palming through the fabric.

“Take of the mask,” she’s panting, her free hand leaves his shoulder and slides down the metal, right where she imagined his cheekbone would be. His movements slow. “Wanna have your fucking mouth on me.”

“Helmet stays on.” He’s pulled her closer, sinking down to cover her bare body with his metallic and leather clad one, his right hand digs under her thigh, raises it to his side, slim fingers gripping her pretty curves. She’s frustrated, all that hate and anger comes back in droves, her hand leaves his cock, much to her displeasure and leaves him chasing the feel of it, she’s temping him, fueling a spark of anger.

“I don’t care.” She hisses, eyes scathingly dark.

Smack! His hand slaps the outside of her thigh, burning the skin a deeper colour and bringing a cry of surprise to the edge of her breath. Fuck, the spank shot the air from her lungs, swollen lips parted but not a noise leaves them.

The sudden sting and roughness of it was painful — she wants it again. Her cunts tight around nothing and she’s pulled on an edge.

“Could blindfold you,” the voice through the helmet is deep, it sends her further into an intoxicating trance. “That what you want?”

Fuck no. She’s biting her lip and pushing herself up and onto him. Her tits press to his beskar and it’s cold to her skin, covered in goosebumps and sweat, chills run rampant over her form. She whimpers, his rough hands find her cunt, dip into the warmth once again.

“I’m not putting a blindfold on, fuck that.” She’s panting, arched up to him as his fingers leave her cunt, slicked and tasting of her sweetness. She’s mewling and its not enough, she needs the real thing. She’s begging him to fuck her properly between the sounds of metal clinking, the heavy rustle of fabrics — he’s not wasting a second before he’s half torn from the beskar.

The Mandalorian smooths his bare hand over her cunt, watching her shiver — wretched art, she’s beautifully twisted. She’s palming her own breast, arching info the feeling, her body calling him, a siren luring.

Fuck it. He could do no blindfold.

“Fine,” he’s growling and grips her hips, hands dug into her skin he’s flipped her over, her chest pressed onto the dirty floor of the ship, the Mandalorian runs a hand up her smooth back, his hand curves around the back of her neck and she’s pinned down.

His free hand rips the helmet off, it clatters fo the floor beside her, the empty metal visor staring, watching. Basked in fresh air and the smell of sex, Mando leans over her, a large hand slides up past her tits and circles her throat. She whines and bends to his will. Mandos rough and unforgiving, a newfound freedom without the helmet has him pulling her body right to his broad chest, teeth scraping her neck, damp moans and mutters of curses fall from his hungry lips.

“Gods, gods you’re so good,” his raw and ragged tone is thick in the air, finally free of his helmet, still mysterious to her, it’s the sinking reality of just how attracted she is to him, how pathetically desperate she is, letting a man fuck her and never let her see his face; but the feel of his hardness pressed against her along with leftover leather and beskar mixed with his lips on the lobe of her ear is enough.

She wants the Mandalorian to show her how good she is. All that blinds her is pure need, flower drunk and trapped in the world of fever dreams.

Sliding her ass against him, his cock hard as fucking marble between them, she moans, ripping through another wave of arousal, she’s growing wetter by the second its evident on the inseams of her thighs, shiny and coated. The Mandalorian shoves harshly her down again, his knee knocking hers to the side, spreading her apart, bending over her his lips and teeth find her shoulder blade and between her yearnful sounds, stuck in the darkness of the fever, she’s struggling, eyes squeezed shut.

Then sliding past all that, pushing through shuddering breaths, Mando grips her tight and sinks himself into her. Its instant relief, a fall into icy rushing water and the world becomes clear again, everything is felt differently. She’s warm and wet, every inch delved deep in her cunt is pure bliss.

“Oh-h stars—” curling, tense pressure mounts within her, she’s sensitive and trembling, he’s breaking her open, it’s everything she’d been desperate for and more. She’s writhing in his grasp, tangled in pleasure, her form caved to his touch.

The Mandalorian moans, exilariated he’s pulling back only to slam himself into her again, arms supporting him he’s leaned over her, pressing messy and wet kisses to her shoulder, sinking his teeth into her soft skin he’s forcing her to cry out, to bend at his will and crave him only more. She’s stretched, a sleek feline, muscled and curved, her knees are spread and the metal of the floor is digging into her skin, its painful but she doesnt feel it in the moment.

At a loss of words, her lips part and she’s stuck, caught in thick webs of flowing pleasure, running in hot waves through her bloodstream, her nerves and bones. The Mandalorians pace is off, deep and hard, he’s sloppy and rough.

Its a race to the edge and she finds herself taunt, her thighs tremble and she’s already close, taking it hard she covers her mouth with her hand, pushing forwards as the Mandalorians movements twist into something other than, something primal and urging on what the poison called them to do.

Her body half broken under fatigue, Mando’s strong arms grip hers and gather her up, spine curved again, her ass pressed to his hipsbones, the new angles deep and he stutters his movements, head falling tight to her shoulder, resting for only a moment.

He’s fucking her harder, messier. One arm wrapped around her chest, hand clasped with hers and the other winds around her throat, forearm pressed over her chest. Fingertips pressing to the sides of her neck, he knows just what he’s doing — right amount of pressure, the slight squeeze, it’s got her gasping and hungry for adrenaline. She curled an arm back, holding the back of his head, fingers threaded through his thick hair, soft under her palm.

“Mando, fuck you’re good,” maybe it’s the drug, maybe she’s sunk under the influence, thick with lust but each show, calculated fuck against her has her wondering why they’ve never done this sooner.

He squeezes once, a warning. “Quiet,” and that’s why, she remembers, slurring thoughts mix through her foggy mind, he’s controlling, he’s rough and merciless — but it doesn’t matter now, she’s halfway to orgasm and the calling relief is so much better than her hatred for him.

She’s trembling on the edge, the Mandalorian fucks her hard and fast, chasing after release and turning the lust into something wickedly beautiful. Each hit has her breathtaking moans, a little gift to his ears, furthering his seeping arousal. She’s tight and hot around him, fucked out at a perfect angle and lashing against his grip, then it’s all blinding and his release comes from nowhere, coating and warm inside her she’s gasping at the feel, triggering her own fall from grace.

Slow and gutteral moans, shaking breaths and molten energy, they’ve fallen on the same brink of time, waves of lighting crash through her, the heavy coil snapping, evolving into sparks of rabid pleasure. She muffes shrieks into her hand. Mando’s never come harder, so unexpectedly torturous, she’s impossibly wet around him and it’s hard to keep a grip, her thighs shake. Three more leisurely thrust, deep in her cunt has him tripping through the moment, head dropping to her shoulder, teeth gritted tight, he’s a mess and it’s wrecking him.

“Fuck,” he bites down on the swear, she shivers as he pulls away, hands releasing her throat and waist she’s shaky and not able to hold herself up. Mando doesn’t speak, his mind filled with one thing.

Through the darkness of the Crest, the thick taste of sex in the air and sounds of her intoxicating whimpers, he sinks down and helps her lie back, her form shifting under him, she’s facing him in the darkness, breathing through the aftershocks. “Holy... shit,”

“Don’t move,” chasing the trembles down her ruined form, he drops between her legs once again, dangerous hands pawing at her thighs, her knees had knocked together, tensed in the throes of pleasure but Mando’s splitting them open and burrowing his head between.

She jolts back into reality, haven drifting into some kind of post orgasmic dream. His velvet tongue slides up through her cunt, finally having a taste of her, drinking all she has to offer. Wet and heavy moans shift from his lips to her slicked cunt, his whole body is pressing forwards, rebuilding the release. She’s choking on moans, the sensitivity is on the verge of pain, tipping past pleasure. The sounds of her cunt to his lips, his nose ridged against her clit, churning out a new rush, white hot and bathed in carnality.

“Yes, oh-h my gods,” her hands fumble, her form is numb to feeling, every nerve is retracting, drowning in the new burning coals and blackened skyes. It’s ruined daylight and broken stars. It’s only been seconds after the release, and another ones building. Hot tears threaten to escape, renagade and borne by exhaustion, sensitivity; and the Mandalorians not slowing down, sinking into her begs on the edge of sin, his tongue delves deep, flicking and curling around her bud.

She’s split apart, the half on verge of passing out, the other riled up, curling her leg around his shoulder, pushing him further and fuck she’s so close, pooling warmth and the rushed feeling of tightness, the burning coil taunt. Through the darkness, she’s wretched — faces of flowers coat her vision, blinking in and out, she’s lost off the world. It builds, stacking and mounting and she can’t control it. Shuddering, her spines arched and she feels chills climb the ridges of her bones — her thighs close tight, stopped by his rough hands, pushing her open but it’s too much, the fires alit and burning through her.

His mouth slants over her cunt, closing around in a wet kiss paired with slurred words, close to her slick the Mandalorians telling her to come on his tongue, that he’s got her, he’ll work her through it and then she’s suddenly shaking — pleasure rips through her form, unbearably shocked.

“Fuck, fuck, Mando —” she’s gasping and he’s addicted to her taste, sweet and sharp on his tongue, he’s breathing deep, his tongue slip against her core and he’s fucking her slowly through her release; she’s close to sobbing, the pressures releasing ever so slowly, the motions of orgasms bend and fade, twisted in her mind and body. Her hips pressed to the ground, keeping her still, large hands gripping, tight to her scalding skin.

His lips leave her, the urges come back.

The poison — cursed pollen, exchanged sinfully through their bodies, it’s not been purged, still thick in her veins and fogging her mind, she’s gasping for air as it locks into chest.

The Mandalorian feels it, somewhere deep and dark.

They’re right back at the beginning, her thighs ache and her hands feel numb, lips bitten red and skin coloured with marks, she’s an art form of desperation and need. Through the musky darkness, his hands find her body again, she’s in a daze, staring up at the red lights above them, watching them fade and glow. She floats back to the planet, back to the ship as his lips graze her neck, fresh with anew urge of ecstasy and hands smooth over her breast.

They’re going to be there for awhile.

-

feedback is always appreciated!

[tags / some of these are from the previous list, please tell me if you’d like to be removed or added] @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8 @fantasticwizardnerd @flipping-fan-tastic @thatoneemosithlord @dontbetricked @bamfkurt @m-is-for-mischa @otherthingsinhead @christiandior @ccordiform @darlingbravebelle @aj-2187 @boogiebunnies @charlotte-solane-writes @allihave-arememories @pedro-pascal-online @iprettybirdi @toasterking @jedi-dreea @s-v-e-l-t-e @http-user-eraser @fxcastle @titahnics @captianstartights @banana-batman @biolo-tea @raveviolet @aroseamongthestars @bitchasaurus @imconfused28 @rebelwriter95 @nyashi-kaages @bigtoughswordboy @stonertokoyami @sailorflowermoon @sleepingdeath007 @gothtechie @skys-luce-stellare @missalyssx

[dreamingofmilk]

Sugar Babe Chapter 3

Word Count: 2,025

Synopsis: And the trip begins...

Warnings: slight smut, cursing

Early the next morning you struggled to get your baggage down to the lobby by yourself. Steve, your driver frowned when he saw you exit your building with all your stuff for the trip. 

“Miss, you know I could have helped you. Mr. Stevens would have my head if he saw you right now.” Steve ran up to you to gather your stuff and put it in the trunk of the sleek new black Audi. 

You smiled softly at Steve, he was always so polite and helpful to you, even when you assured him that you could handle it. 

“It’s fine Steve, I got it down here didn’t I?” You pressed a kiss to his cheek as he opened the car door for you. You slid into the back of the car and buckled in. You were supposed to meet Erik at the airport in about an hour, but you lived about 45 minutes away from the airport so you had a bit of a ride ahead of you. 

You were excited for the trip, you loved to travel and looked forward to opportunities that work provided for you to do so. But you never got to travel like this, much less with Erik. 

Usually when you traveled, you traveled alone to audit or conduct meetings in place of Erik. And you just went to the big airport downtown to fly business class. Your trips usually didn’t take three weeks to conduct either. Erik could never go without having you by his side for more than four days. He swore the incompetence of the other employees made him considering making his company a two man one. The days you came back from traveling usually involved calming Erik down from firing everyone. Thank goodness you had no problem keeping his anger under control. 

You packed entertainment for the ride to the airport and for the trip. You reached into your bag and pulled out the kindle Erik bought you randomly last year. 

Giggling at a story you were reading, you glanced up to make eye contact with Steve in the rear view mirror. Steve’s cheeks quickly turned pink and he looked back to the dark road ahead of him. 

“You okay Steve?” You asked him curiously, you’d worked with Steve for the past year and he’d been one of the best drivers Erik had ever hired. You considered the two of you friends easily, car rides with him contained engaging conversation and joyous laughs. 

“I’m fine Miss. I uhh didn’t know you were dating anyone much less engaged?” His eyes shot to your ring finger in the rear view mirror before putting them back on the road. 

You felt your face become hot. You remembered Erik’s text that came in right before you woke up this morning, reminding you that he put a ring on it and he can’t wait to see it when you meet this morning. 

You also remembered how his body felt pressed against yours, and the things he said. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You were scared. You were scared of how strong your feelings for him were, how far gone you already were. If you weren’t careful you could get caught in the storm and never make it out again. Erik never kept a relationship for long, he was a hardworking man who would always be more dedicated to his job than anything else. As his assistant you’ve seen first hand just how little he fought with his exes when they complained about his work schedule. You’ve seen how upset they looked when they stormed out of his office, and you’ve seen how unaffected he was by it all. 

Erik was a tornado, blazing through everything in its path, and you couldn’t allow yourself to get caught in the wreckage, no matter how strong your feelings were.

 “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.” Steve pulled into the parking lot of the airport and stepped out to open the door for you. 

“It’s okay Steve.” You smiled and hugged him. “It’s just all new to me. I guess I better get used to the question though huh?” You pulled back and smiled up at your friend. He grinned back at you in his eyes, twinkling with a bit of sadness. He opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by Erik making his presence known. 

“Glad to see you made it safely.” Erik’s tone was quiet and calm, his eyes hard and focused completely on you. You quickly jumped back out of Steve’s arms and turned towards Erik to greet him. 

“Steve.” The tip of Steve’s ears turned completely pink. 

“Sir.” 

“Grab her bags please. The plane is ready for us to board.” Erik used his business voice, his eyes flitting to Steve briefly before focusing back on you. His stare made you hot and your knees weak. You nimbly lean back into the car to grab your carry on bag and purse. 

You approach Erik slowly, his eyes watching your moves. 

“Hey.” You smile and pull out your phone to go over notes for the flight. There were a few business things that needed to be handled on the flight over. 

“What was that?” Erik asks quietly. 

“What was what?” You respond as you start to move toward the jet tarmac. 

“Nothing.” He works his jaw and glances back at Steve getting your luggage. “Let’s go there’s a lot to go over.” He places his hand on the small of your back and guides you to the plane. 

*****

“How long have we been married?” You ask Erik on the plane. You’ve been in flight for a few hours and after completing all of the necessary paperwork for the new acquisition preparation, the two of you decided it necessary to practice questions you may get. 

“3 years. We could take a break you know. I’m tired and I feel like we have it down.” Erik patted the seat next to him, his smile devious and hopeful. “Come join me, they are going to bring our lunch soon.” 

You definitely wanted to sit next to him. But there was no need to. No one was watching, the two of you should enjoy the last few hours of not having to put on an act. 

“I’m fine over here Erik, much more spacious without a giant like you taking up half of the seat.” You smiled and put away your laptop preparing for the delicious meal you smelled. 

“Sure you're fine over there. But if you sit with me we could practice cuddling.” You narrowed your eyes at him and kissed your teeth. 

“Why would we need to practice cuddling Erik. In what public place would people need to see us cuddling?”

Erik chuckled and leaned back in his seat spreading his legs wide, he licked his lips as he stared at you. 

“Not everything has to be for show baby girl. But we gotta practice you getting used to my touch don’t we? A husband can touch his wife in public right? And every time I go to touch you you flinch.” Erik rubbed his beard while eyeing you. 

“No I don’t. Stop lying Erik.” You rolled your eyes. 

“You do. I’m not lying. I always peep how you respond to people. You didn’t flinch when Steve touched you though.” His stare turned hard and you could feel something turn inside of you. You grimaced and looked away briefly before standing up to sit next to Erik. You hated when you upset Erik, it didn’t happen often. But when it did you knew. 

“I do not flinch when you touch me.” You reiterated, your eyes daring him to touch you.

Erik of course took you up on your silent challenge. His smirk shouldn’t have so much of an effect on you. It was disrespectful really. 

“You’re calling me a liar Y/N?” Before you knew it he grabbed your wrist and pulled you hard enough to launch your body out of your seat and into his arms. You couldn’t fight the shiver that ran through you as his hands caressed your back so softly you weren’t sure if he was even aware he was doing it. You quickly shoved your face into his chest to hide the small whimper that escaped your lips. 

You couldn’t help but flinch when you suddenly felt Erik’s lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He spoke softly, but there was steel behind his words, “Baby girl, let me make myself crystal clear. You are my wife. Mine. I don’t take well to sharing, I never have. If I see you flirt with another guy again I’mma handle you, you understand me?” His hands slowly worked from your shoulder blades, down your back, to rest firmly on your ass. “My ring is on your finger, not Steve’s, or anybody else. Don’t forget that.”

Thank goodness Erik couldn’t see your face because your eyes were about to bug right out of your head. Where the fuck was this coming from? Erik has never been a possessive guy. Hell he had an open relationship with over half of the girlfriends you’ve seen since you started working for him. This was unprecedented. You calmed yourself down before moving back so you could look into his eyes. It was time to get back on the same page. 

“Why do you keep bringing out Steve? What does he have to do with this?”

Erik scoffed, “You tell me. You were hanging all over him this morning.”

What the fuck?! “I just hugged him Erik. What the hell is your problem?”

“I don’t take well to being disrespected, Y/N. How am I supposed to feel when I show up, all excited to see my girl and she’s hanging onto some guy?”

You grabbed his face harshly, your frustration getting the best of you. Before you could talk yourself out of it, or think, you pulled him into you and kissed his passionately. He immediately responded, pulling you in as close as he could and tonguing you down something fierce, his hands still palming at your ass. You gasped when he moved his hands behind your thighs and picked you up, wrapping your legs around him to keep yourself from falling over. Erik quickly walked you both to the nearest wall, shoving you against it just hard enough to make you gasp.

“Not worried about him now are you, baby? That’s right, only I can do this for you.” Erik growled against your lips, barely taking the time to say the words before claiming your mouth once more.

You pulled away, finally remembering the reason you kissed him in the first place. “I’m not interested in Steve, Erik. I never have been. He’s my friend. I was just hugging him to say goodbye because we’ll be gone for a bit. That’s all, I promise.”

Erik scanned your face for a while, both of you catching your breath. “You’re right, I’m sorry baby girl, I overreacted. I can never seem to think clearly when it comes to you.”

You rolled your eyes and started to massage your fingers into his scalp, his eyes closing immediately. “You will never have to worry about that. I’m not that kind of person and you know that.”

He nodded, “I do know that.”

You watched him closely, the question bubbling up until you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why were you so angry anyway? You always had open relationships with your girlfriends. Why are you mad about the possibility of your fake wife flirting with someone else?”

Erik smirked, slowly shaking his head. “Y/N, if you have to ask that question then I have my work cut out for me.” 

“Well I guess you better get to it because I don’t understand. But first put me down so I can eat.” You nodded your head to the food that had been placed on the table behind you. 

Erik smirked and let you down slowly sliding his hands over your ass and hips. 

“I’ll make sure to show you.”

Taglist:

@aislinnsilver​ @wawakanda-btch​ @chaneajoyyy​ @marvelmaree​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @raysunshine78​ @fdwrites @soufcakmistress​ @girlsneedlovingfanfics​ @toniilaney​ @amira88 @bugngiz​

[chemicalpink]

Homewrecker ♡ Park Jimin

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader with Jimin x Taehyung on the side

Genre: oh dear where to begin smut, angst(? 

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: The good are never easy and the easy are never good. And love? it never happens like you think it really should. Deception and Perfection are wonderful traits, one will breed love, the other, hate.

You’ll find me in the lonely hearts under ‘I’m after a brand new start’ but I don’t belong to anyone.

Warnings: i personally don’t think this is a warning but hey what do i know, its more of a tag, Jimin is bisexual on this one, m|m not that explicit sex, threesome, vmin, cheating.

A/N: HELLO YES I did NOT forget my series I’ve just been through it, you know? but I stay true to my word and this was kind of a though one to write but I like how it turned out, please let me know if you liked it! MMM yeah I kinda feel a depressive episode around the corner BUT i will do my best to keep on posting, my plate is just FULL FULL right now. Anywho I hope you enjoy this!

“Listen, Y/N, you asked me to spice things up! I’m just suggesting things, okay?” your boyfriend’s voice remained calm but you could hear in it the desperation at your surprise when he so casually suggested a threesome during movie night. 

“And let you fuck another woman?” 

“It’s actually Jimin” you paused dead in place at your boyfriend’s statement, turning to look at him in disbelief

“Jimin?” you repeat “Jimin as in… your friend Jimin” Okay so maybe giving it a second thought, Taehyung and Jimin are the closest you have ever seen two people be, dare you even say Jimin is closer to Taehyung than to his very own boyfriend, a dude you know from around campus a few years younger than you, Jungkook– but to drop the bomb and ask Jimin for a threesome was unbelievable, even for Taehyung.

Just as your ragged breathing was beginning to calm down and your mind settling, a mop of blond hair walked through your apartment door “Oh-bad timing”

“No, it’s fine” you found yourself saying after a quick glance at the man, as weird as things had just turned, there was no denying that Jimin was a beautiful creature, tousled blond hair that framed his cherubin-like face, body to kill for as a result of him being captain of the varsity dance team; you couldn’t say much about his personality, but as far as Taehyung let you know, he had to have passed his high standards’ vibe check if they hung out as much as they did.

“Y/N, please don’t feel pressured, Taetae is just trying his best” he approaches you and smiles a sweet smile your way, leading you to take a seat beside him, you feeling as if you were about to get lectured, but you could already feel an instant charm coming off of him, most certainly the reason why your boyfriend was initially drawn to him “You can always just say no, we just thought, you know, with Tae and I being close friends and all if you guys  wanted to be more… adventurous, I could be your shot” 

You could already feel your acceptance rolling off of your tongue as his eyes found yours, his gaze staring right through you as you felt yourself blushing when he combed his hair back, your eyes fixing on his hand, cladded with rings and may someone please get you out of your haze but you couldn’t help but wonder how good those chubby fingers would look on you, the coldness of the metal against your skin, or Taehyung’s “It’s just- I don’t know, is Jungkook okay with all of this?”

“Jungkook? Oh sweetie, yeah, absolutely” there was a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes as he smiled at you when he answered, which should have been your way of knowing that maybe, just maybe this wasn’t your smartest idea yet– or Taehyung’s.

“Yeah, fine, I’ll give in” the pair share a look and a smile for a few seconds before Taehyung takes a seat beside you, leaving you in between their bodies, Tae starts caressing your inner thigh in the way that he knows gets you going before setting your hair aside to grant himself access to start kissing and nibbling your neck; before your eyes close in delight you can catch a glimpse of Jimin’s hand settling on top of Tae’s and caressing his knuckles before the blond sets his pillowy lips under your jaw, just inches away from your boyfriend.

Jimin’s mouth finds yours before Tae’s, which you should have seen coming, if the way he had so desperately marked your skin was anything to go by; letting yourself get lost in it for a few too many seconds, fingers cradling through his scalp in a futile attempt to bring him closer to you, to explore his mouth further, the way his tongue toyed with yours absolutely delicious, before he nibbled your swollen bottom lip, separating for air and finding Tae’s face in front of yours, eyes heavy with lust, grabbing your face so he could have his go at kissing you, very much more forcefully than Jimin, but you loved it either way, parting when you had the utmost necessity to breath; things seemed to slow down as the two friends looked into each other before approaching their faces with you squished in between, still catching your breath, both of them just a few centimetres away from you, their lips dancing an all too familiar rythm for it to be their first time, the image causing the bottom of your stomach to fire up, both of your hands coming up to grab both of their clothed hard ons, making them separate their mouths.

“We should probably move this to the bedroom” Jimin mentioned, voice a little raspy, lips red and swollen as he helps both of you up to let you lead the way, Taehyung trailing behind and Jimin at the end, all three of you discarding pieces of clothing as you went further into the apartment, a few giggles escaping both of them but all you could think of was just how the night had turned a full 360º.

Once inside the bedroom Jimin just goes for it as Taehyung takes a seat on the edge of the bed, caging you against a wall and licking up your neck, his teeth finding a spot behind your ear, making you moan out loud, already putty in his hands, your fingers unconsciously reaching out to grip Jimin’s thigh "Be gentle with her," Taehyung instructs from his seat, “Make her beg”

“Ever begged for a cock, Y/N?” Jimin whispered in your ear, nibbling it a little, which had your knees buckling, his hand keeping you up, you could already feel your panties wetting.

“Please”

Jimin can see his friends’ knuckles tighten around a piece of the bedsheets, to which he can help himself but tease further with a wicked smile “Please what, Y/N?”

"P-Please, um," you stutter, squirming a little. Jimin’s hand falls to your inner thigh, dangerously close to your core, your breathing heavy and uneven at his ministrations and the idea of Taehyung just watching his girlfriend and his best friend going at it unashamed of his presence in the room.

“Aren’t you just a fucking treat” the blond is about to reach a hand down your underwear when Taehyung stands and walks up to the both of you, splitting you two up to press the shorter against the wall, kissing him ferociously  "You look hot with my girlfriend’s tongue in your mouth," he growls, and for a split second you visibly shiver at the realisation that you had built up your orgasm based solely on Jimin’s actions. Tae is still kissing his friend, inducing you to just start enjoying the act too "You taste like her, too."

Your hand unconsciously reaches down to your core, playing with it while leaning against the wall for support as you watch your boyfriend and his best friend kissing, nude torsos colliding, boxers doing very little to conceal both of their hardened lengths, noticing just how both of them twitch inside their underwear and their mouths run a bit more fierce at the friction when they accidentally bump their clothed cocks against each other, a moan escaping your lips that makes both of the men turn their attention towards you.

"My turn," Taehyung demands, nudging Jimin out of the way before he could get to you, throwing you on the bed, skilled hands ridding you of your panties as his fingers start playing with your folds “You’re already so wet for us, babe”

"I wonder how he tastes," Jimin ponders from his spot beside you on the bed, and not even five seconds had passed before Taehyung offers him his slick-coated fingers, which the blond wastes no time in licking clean “Mmm absolutely delicious, Tae” 

Taehyung rapidly makes way for Jimin to take his place in between your legs, hot tongue against your cunt, teasing your entrance before capturing your clit and having you a wriggling whimpering mess against the mattress, your boyfriend pinching and toying with your nipples as his friend had you shaking "How's Chim’s tongue, baby?" he uses his free hand to spread your legs a little further apart to grant Jimin better access “Talented, isn’t he?”

You settle for whimpering a little “yeah” incapable of saying much else as the two men continued to worship your body, arching up into the touch, nearly sobbing as Jimin crooks his finger and hits your G-spot at the same time. "Fuck! Jimin, please, o-oh!" you cry out, and you can clearly hear how both Jimin and Taehyung moan at the same time, Jimin humping against the mattress as Taehyung finally starts stroking himself.

"Put it in," you exhale, already knowing that you can’t hold on much longer if they keep on delaying actually fucking you “Please, Jimin, Tae, fuck me, fill me”

"What a dirty fucking mouth you have," Jimin growls "Bet you want Tae to fuck your cunt, huh? Just look at the mess you’ve already made, baby" He turns to your boyfriend, sharing a quick, sloppy and wet kiss, in which they can both taste you on their tongues “Hm not yet, you gotta earn it, TaeTae, why don’t you show Y/N how good pets behave and maybe then I’ll let you fuck her, huh”

You can’t even recognise your very own boyfriend as Jimin manoeuvred the two of them on the bed, Taehyung on top of him as the former springs free his member for the first time in the night, your boyfriend positioning his cock against his hole with much-practised ease, slipping on it with a few hisses from both of the men, leaving you not knowing whether you should be fuming at what your gut was telling you– this was not their first time doing it– but you found the sight absolutely hot nonetheless, you were probably just reading too much into things anyway.

Jimin found your gaze and held it as he licked his lips, hips bucking up further into Tae, which had resorted to arching his back for better support, moans escaping his lips “Come on, Y/N, play with us”

The only thing that could be heard in the room are skin against skin of the two friends, wet noises from you fingering yourself at the image, gasps, ragged breaths and moans "Holy shit," Taehyung sobs, hands braced against Jimin’s chest. His whole body shaking before Jimin stops his movements and tosses him to the side.

“I’d say she behave well, Tae, let’s give her a little something”

You are soon to take Taehyung’s place on top of Jimin, inhaling sharply as you allow yourself to be accustomed to his girth.

"How's she feel inside, Jimin-ah?

"So tight," Jimin gasps, hands gripping your hips, hard enough to bruise.

“Please” you whimper

"What happened to you thinking this was a bad idea, Y/N-ah?" Jimin gasps, giggling as Taehyung encourages you to bounce a little faster, slapping your thigh as Jimin squeezes your waist.

Jimin is no longer able to hold himself back as he starts pistoning into you, Taehyung’s silent moans mixing with your own as he jerks himself off, his free hand tracing your occupied entrance curiously before slipping it inside along with Jimin’s cock, stretching you a bit more deliciously, making you cry out as you finally feel your orgasm washing down on you, thighs shaking, toes curling as your boyfriend’s friend rides you through it.

All three of them moan simultaneously as Taehyung slips inside you from behind along Jimin and immediately starts thrusting as hard as he can, chasing his own built-up pleasure. Tears run down your cheeks, but you can't tell if they're tears of pleasure, of pain, of humiliation, or any of the three combined. Your body is limp against Jimin’s chest as both men use you as nothing more than a hole to fuck and you’re absolutely loving it. You’ve never been this full in your life. 

"I'm not gonna last," Jimin moans from under you, more to Tae behind you than you, who has also just realised they are both spilling their seed inside you once he feels Jimin’s hot release mix with his own.

"Holy shit," you choke out, hurriedly opening your eyes to look down and see for yourself the mess you already know is there, staining the bed as them both slipped out of you. You whine, squirming before taking your side of the bed, eyes already closing with sleep, distantly hearing your boyfriend and his best friend talking.

“Well, my job here is done, Tae” 

Your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the night your boyfriend, Jimin and you shared, every time Tae was gone for a little too long while going out to hang out with Jimin, the way he had so easily submitted to him, how they easily found their way around each other and from time to time you had become just an accessory to their game, now, you know that following Tae is horribly wrong– and exponentially a toxic trait– but you just had to know if your mind had been playing tricks on you when you had seen them both together.

You parked your car a few meters away, far enough for Taehyung not to see your car following his to his best friend’s house and onto a suspicious looking back alley of a closed night club but near anough to have a complete and unbothered view at the automobile–so perhaps something had gotten into you, your friends’ joking words saying that Jimin and Tae had something else to their friendship– it was stupid.

You’re about to start your engine and drive away since you had been staring at them seated and talking for nearly five minutes when you see it. Jimin pulls your boyfriend in for a forceful kiss, your mind can’t even begin to process the image when the blond one is guided to straddle the other– rather uncomfortably– on the driver’s seat, his hips grinding down as the brunet threw his head back in pleasure; they are both stumbling out of the car in a hasty manner and without being able to keep their hands– and mouths off of each other, you could feel your chest growing heavier and eyes prickling with fresh tears, head spinning and most probably on the verge of passing out when Taehyung presses his friend against the hood of the car, ridding both of them of their bottom parts of clothing in record time as you guess he presses himself into the other man, if Jimin’s pleasured face was anything to go by. You can feel your breath speeding up, a thousand memories of your relationship with Tae flashing by as you are still staring at the actions of the two friends, when you can swear you and Jimin lock eyes for a second and he throws a smirk your way as he continues to get pounded– or maybe him knowing you’re watching and that being a kink of his, or Taehyung’s is just a product of your imagination, then again, at the moment you can’t really say you know Taehyung anymore; once the tears fade, only anger remains as you race your car out of the parking spot and into the night to your apartment.

“What had I ever done to you to be treated that way?” the words burst out of your mouth in a rushed anger as Jimin opens the door to his apartment

“Well hello to you too, Y/N”

“I know”

“What exactly do you know?”

“You and Tae”

“Oh yeah, I know that”

“And I- wait. You knew?” you turn to face him, already facing you and offering you a cup of something, tea? as he smirked his infamous smirk before taking a sip out of his cup.

“Yeah, kinda hard to miss your buddy’s girlfriend following you around, you know?”

“Why would you- he had a girlfriend!” words start to try and pour out but they die before making it out of your mouth, confusion clouding your mind completely and your rehearsed string of curse words completely gone to waste as the conversation took an unwanted turn. He shrugs in dismissal.

“It was fun”

You can already feel the fire pit bubbling inside you again “Well he’s all yours now”

“Oh no- honey, you don’t get it”

“Why don’t I get, asshole?” you point a finger at him in a menacing manner but he doesn’t move an inch even when you walk towards him, accentuating each of your words “That you fucked your best friend WHO HAD A GIRLFRIEND? after you FUCKED ME TOO? What game could you possibly be playing, Jimin?”

He rolls his eyes at you as his hand brings your finger down t your side, as if he’s dealing with a kid “None, sweetheart, I don’t belong to anyone” he turns his back to you “If it is any of your interest, you were such a good laid too”

“Are you seriously trying to get in my pants right now?”

“That depends, is it working?”

“Not in the slightest”

“Oh really? Y/N answer me one thing, do you honestly think it was easy to get Tae to fuck me? that man might have loved you!” there was something accusing and almost mad in his eyes as he stared back at you, to which you cross your arms in distaste

“If he did he wouldn’t have done what you two did” you say matter of factly

“Oh Y/N-ah I have my ways to make my way into lonely hearts” he steps closer to you but you refuse to give in to him once again  “It's a blessing, really, as much as you two were a couple, his heart was such a dark place, Y/N,  you never gave him what he craved for, unconditional love” he is so close to you that he rests his forehead against yours for a split second before he closes his lips around yours in a chaste kiss “You and I are much more similar than what you think, Y/N, we both crave to feel alive again”

Jimin did have a charm on him, having you captured in his unhealthy but effective ways as you both treasured each other the way you had once seen him and Tae do, while also being aware of how many others like you he kept around.

“Jimin?” 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why do you do all of this? Doesn’t it break your heart to see people come and go?” you asked sincerely, deep down knowing that this rodeo was up his alley, he could already tell how attached you were growing to him in such a short period of time.

“Sweet Y/N, I break a million hearts just for fun” he playfully pinches your nose, making you laugh “I might even break yours one day, huh?”

You hum in acknowledgement as the smile vanished from your lips “Sounds fair”

Months went by, fairly quickly as Jimin kept his word and effectively broke your heart sometime that week after you had asked, though really, you could understand he wasn’t the settling type – you guess that was what made the two of you different from each other “Oh my god- JIMIN!” he was laying on the ground, more like doubled over himself almost lifelessly on that goddamn back alley that had once changed the entire course of your life and love as you had known it, you approach him and try to get him to stand up, supporting his weight on you as he coughed up some blood to the ground “God, I told you someday some or your lonely hearts was gonna fight back, dumbass”

“You and Tae didn’t” your heart clenches at the memory, things did worked out pretty weird for you and him for someone who had found out his boyfriend sleeping with his best friend

“Are you still seeing Tae?” 

He groans, whether in discomfort or acknowledgement, that is for him to know.

You somehow manage to get you both a cab, cleaning him up nicely and lending him a change of clothes you found in the back of your closet that once belonged to his best friend, which he knew, given the smirk he gave you when he takes them from you.

He laughs a dry laugh– very in character of him, really “I guess you could say my life is a mess but hey, I still look pretty in this” he clutches his side in discomfort – you’re positive whoever did this to him, they had quite the force to break something.

You show him his room, him smiling at you sincerely for the first time since you had met him, nothingness in his eyes, making you ache for both of you and how life turned out to throw him at you for the second – or third time. “Thanks, Y/N, after everything that’s happened”

“Sure, Jimin” you want to make yourself believe he wasn’t right all along and you two were very much alike and forget the time you had begged him to stay, he’s said it before and stays true to his word, Jimin doesn’t belong to anyone.

You wake up alone in your apartment– no surprise there. Except, there is a video waiting to be played on your phone, an unknown sender and Jimin’s face on it, sounds from what seemed to be the airport filled the background, thick sunglasses perched on his nose to hide his very much there black eye “Y/N-ah, I want to apologise, for everything. I know you’ve tried and again and again to bring me to the light but Y/N, I’m only happy when I’m on the run” he exhales loudly as his smile disappears “Deep down, all you want is love, the pure kind we all dream of but Y/N, we cannot escape the past, so you and I would never last, I will always treasure you in my heart just please, don’t contact me ever again”

[catharrington]

I don't know if you have time/desire for more catboy but if you do...

Steve getting something gross stuck in his fur (maybe Billy's bubble gum or some candy?) and Steve's trying to contort himself to clean it, but it's in a spot he just can't quite reach so they have to figure out how to get it off when a bath just makes it worse.

Time? None at all. Desire?? Overflowing with it, babe!!

Oh my gosh let me take this opportunity to enjoy some Halloween time!! I imagine cat boy Steve loves Halloween because hey free built in costume he always wears! Him and other cat people just have the best All Hallows ever!

Steve didn’t have much when he first came to Billy’s, just the ears on his head and the collar that got unceremoniously dumped into the trash can. Billy convinced him to go shopping together once, and Steve didn’t care for it much. Felt far too close to a date, too close to what he wanted from Billy— but not what the other wanted from him.

So soon billy just started leaving money on the coffee table where he could. Small amounts. Just enough for Steve to use it to feel some sort of independence. Because billy was stepping far too over the line— no way Steve actually wanted to be in a serious relationship with the guy he nicknamed ‘kidnapper’.

Halloween was different, Halloween was everything goes. Steve had gotten a job at a library just down the Main Street of town, not a 5 minute walk from their apartment. He would sit behind the counter tapping his long nails across a hard back book, most days, using his pointy ears and flicking tail to point out teenagers making too much noise. And the older woman who worked there all fawned over him.

He took the later evening shift, he said it was to help the old bats out, also I’m by myself! Don’t have to worry about them touching my ears or calling me ‘kitty’ to my face!

He would stumble home every day with his ears low on his floppy brown hair, and his shoulder bag filled with books across his chest.

Billy told him he shouldn’t be walking that late at night, don’t care how far, makes me worried someone might want a pretty cat like you?

And Steve would laugh, strip down to a pair of flannel pajama bottoms he stole from Billy, giggling the whole time, and lay down so his head is on Billy’s chest. Let those rough from work hands relax the tension in the muscles around his ears.

They didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. They felt like two jigsaw puzzle pieces meeting. And those don’t have to talk to know they fit.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see the side of Steve that wasn’t soft sweaters or library books. Wasn’t a fierce independence acting as a wall againt the trauma of abandonment. Of abuse.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see Steve in a skin tight black cat suit. Designed for cat boys and bought because there’s a bar right down the block from the library and it’s free drinks for cats tonight! I’ve just got to go, Billy, that’s so rad!

Halloween was when Billy followed Steve around, not the other way around. Pulled out an old leather jacket he was surprised still fit him at all. Didn’t talk about the way Steve was going for an all black look but didn’t make any move to take off the brown leather collar Billy got him as an apology gift.

Didn’t talk about the way the wet look pleather on Steve’s cat suit matched. Didn’t mention they looked like a couple. That Billy might hinder Steve if he’s looking to ride a dick that night.

No, he just smiled and walked arm in arm down the block as the sun set. Pretty oranges and red filling the sky. Leaves crunching underfoot the same color as Steve’s pretty hair, all styled up with hairspray and perfect as could be.

The building is lit up with strings of bright purple, a lime green naked bulb sits in the front door where a bouncer stands and collects Billy’s head fee while Steve just flicks his tail to get it.

The bar is crowded with ghouls, and goblins, witches line the bar with their pointy hats. Decorated with arching white spider webs.

Billy knows Steve really only drinks wine because it actually tastes good unlike the piss Billy drinks, so he ain’t surprised when he orders some candy-apple monstrosity. Laps it up with his devilish pink tongue when he gets it. Catches Billy watching over the rim of his tall beer glass.

Steve downs the martini in one gulp before grabbing Billy around the hand, pulling him with a naughty glint in his eye towards the dance floor.

He turns around, moves Billy’s hands around his hips, purrs dance with me, nice and slow?

In a question that doesn’t sound like a question. His tail wrapping possessively around Billy’s legs. Billy groans back, right into the chocolate fudge swirl of his sensitive ear, set the pace, pretty cat, you know I’m good for it.

They let go for song after song, rolling into the next like their bodies roll. Billy’s belt buckle shimmering and catching against the fabric of Steve’s cat suit. Both a mess of sweat, dripping off their foreheads into their greedy open mouths. But they don’t care, they don’t stop.

Not until Steve’s ear gets yanked by another bar patron. Billy’s got his face burrowed into the side of Steve’s neck, drowning the way his wild flower and musk cologne always lingers on the plush leather, so he doesn’t realize anything happening until Steve’s hands move off his own. They lift from where they were cupped around Billy’s own to swat at another hand hovering around his head. His ears. They stayed at if risking another grope.

Steve hissed low and mean, warning three’s a company, creepy bastard! Now back off before I show you how quick I can bite off a dick. His voice nothing like Billy’s heard it. It made his head snap up so quick.

The guy wouldn’t let up, his face ruddy with alcohol and his golden Roman crown as lopsided as his sheet he’s trying to pass off as a costume. He pops a sucker out his mouth to reply. It’s made his whole mouth cherry red, Billy hates to look at it. Hates the words he’s spewing even more.

Steve only lets him get a sentence into his explanation about how a wild cat like you needs a firm hand before he’s shoving with two fingers into the center of the guy’s chest. Backing him up with a sharp nail that disappears into the fabric. Hopefully to leave a prick of blood.

Billy’s hand snaps forward of its own accord, pressing his huge palm flat into the guy’s shoulder and sending him stumbling backwards. He’s always up for a bar fight, knows a drunk bastard like this wouldn’t win always. He shouts out I warned you man, and now I gotta kick your ass! But doesn’t get that far.

He’s caught by two hands on the lapels of his jacket. Yanking him to the side where Steve’s turned from the ass hole. Watching Billy with those nervous dinner plate eyes again. All glittering gold and chocolate chips, making his knees weak. He’s not worth it, Steve purrs. And he’s right. The guy isn’t worth it. But Steve’s worth winning one bar fight and so, so much more. He’s worth the world to Billy. So he listens and follows as they dip to the bathroom.

It’s not until Billy’s coming out of the stall he used to take a leak does he notice that creepy bastard’s pop stuck in the fur of Steve’s tail. It’s amazing he doesn’t feel it, all glossy and red and clutching at the silky fur, but it’s a testimony to how thick his tail really is. Billy knows, he’s had the honor of running his fingers through it enough times.

He offers let me help, get some soap and try to scrub it out.

But Steve just laughs, bracing himself on the side of the cracking porcelain sink, lifting one leg up while the other held his weight, then twists around until the flat of his tongue can lick across the base of his tail. Gathers spit by licking and licking, grooming the pop off his fur inch by inch until it detached into his mouth.

He drops his leg from the sink with a sigh, a dreamy moany thing that Billy’s never going to get out of his head.

Watches as Steve rolls the pop around in his mouth a couple times, savoring the artificial cherry flavor. Savoring the way he wasn’t about to let that ass hole ruin his Halloween. Then he pressed to open the trash bin with one stomp before spitting the pop away.

Billy’s never been more turned on, never been more grossed out as the same time he’s so hard. Never wanted to taste the lingering bubble pop cherry flavor from another pair of lips before.

He simply leans back against another sink and whistles, says that was something else, Stevie, where all can you reach?

And Steve doesn’t tell him. Huffs out the side of his mouth while he rolls his eyes. Blushing pretty. Says I seriously need another drink now. And something not cherry!

And Billy follows him back to the bar, decorated for Halloween and dripping with spider webs, with a smile.

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

I Would

The Mandalorian x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Language, Fluff, Soft Couple

Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: Thank you to @whiskeyslasso​ for requesting and being very, very patient with me ❤️ if anyone else would like to request or just talk/ask, my inbox and anons are open (multifandom!)

This could also be read as Part Two to Beautiful, as they are essentially the same characters/mindset

-

“We’ll be okay.”

“You say that all the time.”

“Yeah, and here we are. Still.”

The Mandalorian sighs. “Okay,” he relents. “But if anything happens, anything at all, you—”

“Radio to you and have my blaster on me at all times.” You smile. “I got this, Din. But we do this every time, this isn’t my first time being left alone without a certain Mandalorian hovering over me.”

You walk to him and wrap your arm around his neck and let the other trail up his chestplate and to his shoulder; his arm wraps around your waist, resting at the base of your spine. You don’t want to hurt his feelings, but he can be overbearing at times, especially when you have the Child with you. 

He sighs again, quieter this time, but nods and gives you a playful slap to your ass, making you giggle and smile up at him. 

“I want this ass when I get back. Understand?”

Your heart skips a beat and you pout your lips. “Promise?”

He growls, making you giggle again and give a light kiss to the beskar. Before Din can reciprocate—in whichever way he feels like—you feel a tug at your pants leg. The both of you look down at the little goblin, staring back up at you with beaty round eyes and a grimace. 

“I think he’s a little jealous.” You muse teasingly. 

Din grunts in agreement. “Of course the womp rat is.”

You chuckle and bend down with a small groan—you really need to see about finding some comfortable padding for those cots—and pick the Child up and sit him by your side. 

“Say ‘bye’.” You coo, waving his hand at Din playfully. 

The Child babbles unintelligibly, but Din nods as if he understands him. “I won’t be long. Stay safe, cyar’ika.”

You nod and blow a kiss. “Be careful.”

“Always am.”

And it’s always hard watching him leave.

–

By the time Din gets back, you’re sitting on the floor with the baby surrounded by various items and toys you bought from a market not too long ago. The Child attempts to sit up, but stumbles in his footing; your hands hover by him, waiting to catch him. He turns to you and gurgles, one green, grubby hand pointed towards you and the other towards the hull, where you can hear Din moving around. 

“You’re so cute!” You exclaim in a mimic of a mother’s adoration. “Just the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen! My little guy!” The Child laughs.

Din freezes just as he steps over the last step, but before you can ask what’s wrong he stalks towards the mess and glances down. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “Nothing new.”

He picks the Child up, giving his head a soft caress. It never fails to make your heart glow with a fierce fondness you’ve never felt before. “Did he eat?”

You hum in affirmation as you start to clean up the messy area. When you look back up, Din is already gone with the baby and you’re left alone, sighing and throwing the various items into their respectful boxes. 

“Well,” you puff with your hands on your hips. “That’s do—”

Everything goes dark. Pitch black. You can barely see in front of you, even with the small patch of light drifting through the Crest’s glass. 

“Din?” You call out. 

Your body starts to tremble. The fear that someone or something has actually gotten on to the ship somehow floods through you like a freezing tidal wave, and you’re about to reach blindly for your weapon when a pair of bare, soft hands stop you. 

“Stars!” You gasp, resting your hand over your racing heart. “You can’t scare me like that, Din.”

Nothing but your breathing. Then, “I don’t like it when you say that.” That’s a little to the right. 

Your face scrunches in confusion and you tiptoe until you feel you’re directly in front of where his lovely, baritone voice came from. “Say what?”

“What you said to the kid. It makes me feel... good, and secure when I leave knowing he’s safe but... puts ideas in my head.”

You raise your head. “Well, I would do anything for that bugger so you don’t gotta worry about him.” Your eyebrows wiggle playfully, just for your amusement. “And that’s not such a bad thing.”

“I know.” He says quietly.

“C’mere.” You bring him into your arms.

The two of you stay in the hug for a few moments, just revealing in the warmth and the close proximity of each other. It’s—it’s amazing, holding him in your arms like this. With his job, with your lifestyle, it’s hard to find moments of peace like this; to be able to actually sit for a minute and isolate from the outside world, even if just for a second. Sometimes, there needs to be a reminder; you know that Din needs this more than you do. 

“C’mon,” you gently pull away from only far enough to grab his hand and start to lead him—one arm stretched in front of you—blindly to your shared bunk. “You made a promise.”

It takes a few bumps and some inaudible curses, but when you finally feel that empty space and the scratchy fabric of the blanket under your fingertips you sigh in relief. It’s short lived with a welcoming tap of encouragement by the Mandalorian behind you and you immediately take the hint and crawl onto the springy, hard cot. You wait and shiver in anticipation as you lay on your back, legs already spread and pussy wet and wanting. 

Din practically collapses on top of you with a small groan mixed with your oof as the weight of him settles on top of you.     

“You’re heavy, old man.” You giggle nonetheless. 

An offended noise erupts from his chest, his breath heavy on your cheek as he hovers over you. “Old man, huh? I don’t see you complaining about that when I’m balls deep inside you.”

The crudeness has you shuddering and your legs tightening around his hips. “Eh, you’re not that bad.” 

His fingers ghosts over your ribs and before you can fully realize what he’s up to, it’s too late. 

“DIN!”

He continues his attack on you, tickling your sides as you writhe and wither beneath him in heavy fits of laughter. His own, though softer than yours, joins yours and this—these moments are nothing but treasure to you; better than any quarry, any job, any credit, and you find in this precious time how much you truly appreciate and love him. 

“A-alRIGHT alright stop I yield I yield!”

Din finally, finally stops and lets you pant as your body settles from it’s electric shock. His hands travel down the slope of your body, stopping at the soft fat of your thighs and gripping, pulling you impossibly closer; your hips clash, his half-hard erection grinding against your clothed pussy, making you moan quietly at the delicious friction. 

His unruly curls brush against your forehead as he leans down to give you a kiss. You moan into it, opening your mouth and accepting his tongue with an less than equal match, but you’re more than happy to lose to this battle. Your hips move against his, picking up a steady rhythm as you feel him become harder. When his lips disconnect from yours, you whine and tug at his hair to bring him back; he growls and meets your desperate kiss with a bite to your lip. 

“Take off your shirt.” He orders you. 

You don’t hesitate to tear the flimsy fabric up and over your head and behind him. Your nipples perk under the cold draft that seems to always come naturally with the ship and a light tap to your hip indicates that you need to lift them. Once you’re out of your pants, you hear him start to work on his, all the while one of his hands cups your now bare cunt; he whistles softly at the pool of juices gaping from your entrance. 

“Maker.” He whispers, almost in awe you think. “Already so fucking wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

His thumb circles around your clit, causing your hips to lightly buckle into his touch. “Just for you, daddy.”

Din groans and dips a finger into your pussy as reward. You moan at the slight stretch, his thumb unwavering in its tease. 

“I don’t think I can wait, not this time mesh’la.” He gasps and you hear a slickness that’s both coming from your pussy and him as he thrusts his cock into his hand; at least, that’s what you’re assuming, given that you still can’t really see. 

“I-it’s okay.” You whisper wantonly. “I’m ready. I just need you.”

You blink and next thing you know, you’re flipped onto your hands and knees, his hand pressing down on your neck. You take the hint and lay your head down on your pillow, clutching at whatever you can find to anchor you, thrusting your ass against his hips; the tip of his slippery head slides against your cheeks, earning you a hearty moan from the man above. 

“Your ass is perfect cyar'ika.” He praises with a slap. You whimper and wiggle your legs, spreading them even further apart. “A needy little one, aren’t you?” Another slap, this time harder than the first. 

“Y-yes daddy.” You whine. 

“‘Course you are.” He seems to mumble to himself. 

Before you can say something, anything at all, you hear a lewd squelch—that doesn’t come from your pussy this time—and his hand slides up your slick folds, an extra warmth and wetness coating your cunt and mixing with your juices. Your knuckles are probably pale white by now with how hard you’re clutching the blanket and you’re about to scream at him to do something to you before you implode by your own horniness; it’s been a while for you, too. 

Without any warning, he thrusts into you with one, smooth motion. You cry out as he sinks into you until he can bottom out, holding himself deep within you as he attempts to calm down as you adjust. 

“Move daddy.” You beg. “Please.”

Din moans, shuddering and already panting when he slowly pulls out until the tip is in and thrusts back inside with a hard snap of his hips that sends your body forwards; his heavy grip on your hips holds you steady. You mewl as he does it again, each thrust harder and harder until the slaps of skin against skin echoes throughout the cockpit. Your pussy envelopes him, welcomes him back into your slick and tight canal until he’s a moaning mess. 

“Ma—oh Din.” He stops, taking a breath and shifting his hips. That gets him to hit that spot inside you. “Shit ri—Din that’s so good, keep going.”

“Yeah?” He grunts and scoots closer to you so that his thighs are pressed tightly against the back of yours. “Gonna cum, little girl? G-gonna—kriff.”

The coil in your lower stomach is already burning you. His thick, long and beautiful cock stretching you, hitting every spot inside you that either gets you closer to your impending orgasm or hits your cervix rather painfully, but it’s a welcome pain that the pleasure he’s giving you easily soothes. 

“Y-you-r pussy is so fucking tight.” It sounds like he’s talking through gritted teeth. “So w-warm and tight. Clenching around me—”

You moan loudly and reach an arm behind you to grab on to his thigh, digging your nails into the hot skin as he stutters in his thrusts; you can feel him pulsing and twitching inside you, every vein and wrinkle scratching against your walls. You clench down on him as it starts to feel impossible to breathe, incomprehensible and nonsense babble escaping your lips like a dam broken and your legs shaking under the weight of your release. Your clit throbs without any attention, and you have to beg him,

“Please please daddy, touch me.”

“I—shit I am, princess.” 

“No,” you whine, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to find the words you’re looking for. It doesn’t help the intense and welcoming pressure building deep in your core, travelling through your pussy. “My—my clit, Din. Touch me, use me daddy.”

He stops deep inside you and leans over and down so that you feel his hair on your face again before he kisses you. They’re short, sloppy pecks, but satisfying. He pulls away and fits his hand underneath you, cupping your pussy—to the point where he can feel his slick dick push into you on the tips of his fingers—and circles your aching bundle of nerves with a rough thumb.    

“I’m—” Your throat is closing up and your tummy coils with the boiling need that’s overwhelming in its nature and fuckfuckfuck everything is going white—

“That’s it. That’s it little girl, cum all over me.” He rasps. 

You do. The pressure is blazing and your cunt holds no restraints against his weeping cock, desperate to find his own release. It feels too good, impossibly and otherworldly good, and your lower body follows the rest of yours as you finally fall. Din still thrusts inside you, faster and practically putting all his weight on your lower back as he holds you down. 

“Shit—princess I’m cumming.” He growls, harshly and deafeningly. 

“Yes. Yes.” You encourage with breathless whines. You do your best to move with him, and after a few more thrusts he abruptly pulls out and spills all over your ass, painting the pudgy red flesh with pearls as he whimpers and groans; the soft splats of his hand around his cock and his cum spilling onto you makes you twitch and your cunt clench painfully and tearfully around nothing. 

Din falls down next to you, panting along with you. You stay on your stomach, too tired and fucked out to move, feeling his cum dribble down your ass cheeks; some even drips down to your wet, abused pussy. 

He says your name. It’s quiet and calm, and your eyes droop as you mumble, “Yeah?”

“Think you have another in you?”

You grin. “Always, daddy.”

    Tags: @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @softpedropascal​, @domino-oh-damn​​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @dadzawas-eyebags​, @moonstruck-witchy @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​, @vikingqueen28​, @tedpicklez​, @blunt-cake-yes​, @agoldin​, @lustriix​, @readsalot73​, @kateb013​, @eupphoriaaa​, @imalovernotahater​, @everything-lost-and-unsaid​, @dlmafa1, @hoodedbirdie​, @drunkenliterary, @fioccodineveautunnale​​, @fangirlfree​, @mrsparknuts​, @amarvelousmandalorian​, @ironheart-hanako​, @bunniotomia​, @thisisthe-way, @sando-rann, @meganoid1997​, @adikaofmandalore​, @cahooter​, @charliepeaceout, @dreamgirl-67, @phoenixhalliwell​, @acrylics-and-sunshine​, @sunkissed-winter​, @oloreaa​, @equalstrashflavoredtrash​, @dyn-djarin​             

[thunderdilf]

What your MK OTP says about you

(based on ships I enjoy and/or have seen in passing)

[feel free to rebagel and add—ship hate will mean insta-blockage, for whatever that’s worth! I’m using the ship names I’ve krafted, and ballparking with others. I hope they give ye a giggle. If your ship isn’t here, PLEASE add it! I just went from memory. I love y’all.]

Caged Heat (Liu/Johnny): you’re here for a good time, not a long time—you like good tiddies and the word “angorny” means something to you. There is passion in both kombat and throwing someone’s luggage off a dock. Sparks, I tells ya.

Sonya/Johnny: you appreciate pegging and Cassie Cage (who doesn’t?). You like the story of a jerk with a heart of gold showing his true colors to a woman who is NOT easily impressed—and who also tops.

Shaolin Rowdy Boys (Liu/Lao): you’re here for a good time, not a long time… literally—you crave childhood friends to unexpected lovers and secret banging in temple broom closets! You see the value of a best friend who’ll go to bat for you, even against a 10,000 year old turboprincess, or maybe you ARE that friend.

Jadetana (Jade/Kitana): Kitana bottoms for NO man, but for Jade, she’d do anything. You love that dynamic of unswerving loyalty which secretly hides deep, abiding admiration and maybe a little lust—or a lot! Who knows what freaky shit Edenian gals can get up to in their private time? You. YOU know and may The Elder Gods™ bless you for producing kontent.

Thermodynamic Equilibrium (subscorp): old guy love is just the ticket—you crave the maturity of years, but you don’t want it boring; someone is getting speared because the love is more intense with age. Kombat to lovemaking is your kryptonite.

Warring Exes (Shang Tsung/Raiden): old guy love, but make it fashion—opulence meets chastity in a clash for the ages; you want an emotional roller coaster of “what if” and “why not”, where a mortal may teach a god to love himself, and love being loved… or perhaps not. Tragedy abounds. There’s enemies to lovers and then there’s this roller coaster. Do you really want good things for Raiden? Debatable.

Faraday Cage (Johnny/Raiden): old guy love, again, but this time it’s two dads finding comfort in a time when they need it most—you REALLY just want good things for Raiden and honestly, who doesn’t? Johnny is, decidedly, a good thing and you’ve decided that nicknames like “1.21 gigawatts” and “electric slide” are acceptable forms of foreplay. 

Cassie/Raiden: Faraday Cage 2: Electric Boogaloo—you might be a spite shipper (rock on) or you just dig visible age gap (because you know that every ship including Raiden or Fujin is EXTREME age gap) and you just want Cassie and Raiden to have nice things.

Jacqueda (Jacqui/Takeda): you watched them grow over the course of X and you were smitten. You’re convinced love really can bloom on the battlefield and kombat spouses appeal to you. The idea of Jacqui throwing down with Scorpion for Takeda’s hand appeals to you as well. Same.

Liutana (Liu Kang/Kitana): all those voice lines and character endings mean something to you—in fact, you may have cried; they’ve been fiddling about since 1995, goddammit, you just want good things for them! Is that so much to ask? I say make it happen.

Royal Pain (Shao Kahn/Sindel): the term “power couple” means something OTHERWORLDLY to you—you took one look at this terrible twosome and went “get me a freak like that” but no one was sure which one you meant and that was okay with you. You’re enamored with their grisly Gomez/Morticia aesthetic. They are awful and you LOVE it. Good on you!

Windwolf (Nightwolf/Fujin): you played Aftermath. ‘Nuff said. JK I’m never done. You love the dynamic of middle-aged person and deity falling in love, which is bizarrely specific, but you’ve found your niche goddammit and you’re going to fill it. You appreciate the koncept of the “god” not always being on top of things, or put-together and the idea of a mortal comforting such a being titillates you. The way Nightwolf stands, holding his belt buckle is, you’re convinced, what sold Fujin; it’s also what sold YOU. 

Windserpent (Shang Tsung/Fujin): you played Aftermath and while you didn’t think of it at the time, you’ve seen some REALLY nice art and batted the idea around a while and then settled on “yes this is for me”. The appeal is in the danger, from both sides—a nigh-immortal soul sorcerer and a god. Perhaps you crave a redemption arc, or a corruption arc; either way, this ship has serious potential and you intend to exploit it. How Shang Tsung of you.

Honor among thieves (Erron Black/Kung Jin): you dig age gap, unironic cowboys, and the idea of a couple of people who haven’t always been on the right side of the law finding themselves and their points of strength in the Kourt of an Outworld emperor. 

Kotal/Jade: you only needed a few cutscenes to tell you that these two are MADLY in love; what we lacked in pure kontent (after all, the game didn’t CENTER on them), they made up for in passionate exchanges. You appreciate the dynamic of respect between them and pegging is NEVER off the table.

Kano/Raiden: the aesthetic of filth-meets-purity appeals to you something fierce. The dynamic is unique and you love the potential for a redemption/corruption arc(s?). 

Shang Tsung/Kano: you saw the club scene in MK95 and you went “yes they’re boning”. Whether there is actual affection or not varies with your mood. You love the idea of disaster gay and refined gay coming together to make something dastardly. 

Bi-Hanzo (Bi-Han/Scorpion): you crave old wounds and aches and angst, drowning in memories of what never could have been, and regrets of what might have been prevented. This is an angst fest and it is YOUR cup of tea; drink that shit down, my friend, no sugar, no cream. Have at it.

Sonya/Jax: team mom and dad aesthetic appeals to you on a spiritual level. Someone’s gotta be in charge of this chicken shit outfit. AMERICA.

The Storm (Fujin/Raiden): your aesthetic includes the difficulty of a mortal’s inability to truly connect with and understand immortals and immortals finding themselves and each other in that realization. These entities who have existed since the beginning of all things understand each other better than anyone else could. Shine on.

Sindel/Raiden: this is team parents aesthetic on ‘roids. You’re probably a fan of the brainwashed Sindel theory and you’re of the opinion that only the love of a god is remotely worthy of the ultimate scream queen. Honestly, you’re probably right. Body worship is on your list of goals, right alongside worthy equals in a relationship—kinky. That being said, pegging is always a possibility.

Mileena/Scorpion: your aesthetic is danger—but alongside that is “lost souls finding love” and “shared burdens of infinite AGONY”. You dig angst and the potential for star-crossed lovers, meeting each other’s eyes across the arena of kombat. The idea of Scorpion as a consort (Kahnsort?) for Mileena might also appeal to you.

Rain/Mileena: the song “hatefuck” by the Bravery is probably your jam. You know there’s little love lost between these two, but perhaps kombat will bare their souls in such a way that they find some redeeming quality in the other—and the sex is VICIOUS. That’s what you’re looking for and by The Elder Gods™ you’ve found it.

Fanblade (Kitana/Sonya): you saw MK95 and went “I can fix this”. Kombat futch meets ancient warrior princess futch—this feels like hardcore xenabrielle vibes with a side of GORE because it’s mortal kombat, let’s be real. You feel as if Kitana would be foolish not to claim Sonya as her lover after watching her snap Kano’s neck with her thighs. You would be right.

Taleena (Tanya/Mileena): rebel, rebel—we love a good usurpation, don’t we? Power struggles are hot, both politically and in bed. Your kinks include overthrowing the bourgeoisie (even though you ARE the bourgeoisie) and seizing the means of production (meaning the flesh pits, probably). 

Shaiden (Shinnok/Raiden): your motto is fight and fuck—or enemies to lovers, for the more refined shipper. Maybe you prefer enemies AND lovers. Go hard or go home, I say.

Nightwolf/Erron Black: old guy love, but make it reformed criminal. The appeal here is that, very likely, someone has to convince someone else that he really IS out of the woods, to show him his true worth, and maybe give him some time off from the violent grind of kombat life.

Kablam (Kabal/Erron Black): black dragon buddies! In the depths of mercenary work, there isn’t time for love, not really, so you want to see these two assholes find some semblance of peace and pleasure amidst illicit activities. Whether or not Kano knows depends on what kind of quickie sex appeals most to you.

Jacquass (Cassie/Jacqui): military lesbians, friends to lovers, BFFs, this ship has it all. You’re in love with the idea of a couple of people who grew up together, suffered and fought and bled together, stumbling away from a battlefield, carrying each other and finding that perhaps they can keep carrying the other, maybe forever.

Kotal/Erron: The idea of watching someone go from bad to the bone, to actually CARING about something other than himself thrills and excites you. That kind of loyalty can’t be bought, even though you keep pretending that’s all it is. Very tsundere.

Kano/Kabal: “he’s a lowlife, piece of shit scumbag; you’re gunna love ‘im.” Nuff said.

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 17: Dinner at Home

New chapter, new plot. Plus got to see a little bit of Danny in this 'verse. :D

And plans are in motion now. What's gonna happen? Stick around to find out.

Stacy sighed as she got into the truck, undoing the professional looking bun her hair was in. Scout popped out of her bag when she set it in the passenger seat, gasping over-dramatically.

"Oh stop that. You're fine." Stacy told her, buckling herself in. She started the car, and got ready to back out of the parking spot.

"Says you! You aren't spending eight hours a day in a fucking bubble!" The puppet flopped out of the bag. "Are we going home yet?"

"No, we've gotta go grocery shopping." Scout groaned and threw one arm over her eyes.

"Aw man. I hate Walmart." She grumbled. "There's always too many kids staring at me."

"It'll be fine. We can go look at movies again before we get the food."

"Okay fine." Scout climbed up the door to look out the window. "But I want Pop Tarts this time! Real ones!"

"I think I can do that." Stacy agreed as she pulled into the parking lot. She reached over and grabbed her wallet before grabbing Scout, letting her settle into the hood of her jacket as they entered the store.

They checked movies, though there was nothing new out yet that they hadn't seen, and then went on to collect the items on Stacy's list. A quick checkout later and they were finally on their way home. It could not have come soon enough for Scout.

The way home from Walmart wasn't too long, maybe a ten minute drive on a bad day. So they got home quick enough, and Scout watched as Stacy started to juggle the many bags. She ended up having to sting them onto her prosthetic in order to get them all into the house, but did succeed in getting all the bags to the kitchen.

Will was downstairs, as he usually was at this time of day. Though, whether he was working on computers or his... hobby, was anyone's guess. Scout certainly wasn't going to go down there to check, either way. Instead she Jumped to her room, which was almost more of a closet with how small it was. But, it held a bed(in her own size!), a charging station for the Switch, and sometimes Stacy's laptop when she could be bothered to drag it in there. The walls were lined with multiple shelves  with rope ladders connecting them, giving her a lot of storage space. Most of it was still empty, but she had collected a few things over the past several months.

Including clothes, apparently. Stacy had expressed concern with Scout running around with Mortimer's face on her shirt, and had enlisted Lisa to make her some new ones. Not that Scout could take her "shirt" off, of course, but she could wear other ones over it. Her favorite so far was a green one that said "eat dick and die". It was the best one, no contest, but Stacy wouldn't let her wear it outside the house.

"It's crude, and while I know you love that stuff it's not a good idea to wear that to my job. Someone could go to HR about it." Her Host had told her. Scout thought that was just stupid, but had agreed not to wear it to the workplace.

Stacy, meanwhile, worked on putting groceries away. It was good practice for her arm, especially in not crushing the groceries. She managed to mangle to bread only a little bit this time,  and figured she was probably doing better than she usually did. Scout reappeared a moment later, wearing the green shirt Lisa had made her. She handed over the Pop Tarts to the puppet, who immediately tore into the box to grab one of the foil packets.

"It's almost suppertime, so don't eat too many of those." Stacy warned her, only to be met by a muffled grunt in response. She sighed, and just collected the stuff she needed; Kraft macs n cheese, premade burger patties, and some green beans for a vegetable. Maybe not the best dinner, but Will was still working and they needed some food.

As she got the stove going, a pan of water for the mac set up, and the pan for the burgers got oiled. She selected three patties and put the rest back in the freezer for another day while things heated up. The beans she dumped in a  third pan on the back of the stove, adding a bit of salt for taste.

Scout watched all of this while softly crunching on the Pop Tarts. Months in the Host World, and she still didn't understand why Stacy wanted to cook. It was much easier and quicker to just grab one of the snacks laying around. Then again, maybe it had to do with that "nutrition" shit Will had told her about once.

As Stacy cooked she started typing out a message to Will on her phone, mostly to let him know dinner was done. He may have been just right in the basement, but she didn't want to go down there if she didn't have to. But as things finished cooking and she started to set the table, Will still hadn't come upstairs or even answered her text. And so, with a sigh, she covered the food and made her way downstairs.

"Will? It's time for dinner." She called as she reached the bottom of the stairs. No answer, but the muffled beat of heavy metal and the high pitched whine of a buzz-saw. She went through the door and was greeted with a mess. A wooden doll was stretched on the exam table in the middle, and Will was standing over it with the buzz-saw, shouting over the pounding music and whining noise.

"Hey, bitch! Make your boyfriend turn it down!" A red haired doll in a welded shut dog crate yelled over the music. She ignored it and instead punched a nearby gong with her metal fist. The resulting metal bang startled Will enough that he almost dropped the saw. He looked over and, once he spotted her, rushed to shut everything down.

"Yeah babe?" He asked, like he hadn't been threatening a sentient doll. The puppet in question was gagged, but sending a quite fierce death-glare at him.

"It's dinner time. Finish up here and come up, I made burgers." She told him, smiling a little as his face lit up.

"Score!" He quickly shoved the saw away before turning to take the doll off the table and put it into a cage. It swapped it's glare to her as he shoved it inside the crate, but Stacy just stared stonily back at it.

"Yeah, you keep trying that buddy. Nothing stops these two assholes. Ow!" The red headed doll sent Stacy his own death glare as she kicked his cage, knocking him over.

"Keep quiet." She growled out, not even looking at him. "Be thankful you're not tied up too."

"Yeah yeah. Go back to your favorite toy, Bitch." He huffed out. "Can't believe you keep that thing living up there with ya. If you had any kind of integrity, she'd be down here, in a cage, with the rest of us. Ow! Fuckin' shit would you stop that?!"

"Chucky, be quiet." A nearby doll in a ripped wedding dress scolded. "You know better than to antagonize her."

"What, it's true! That thing up there is just like us, but she gets to live in the lap of luxury! Hey!"

Stacy propped a foot up on the cage, tipping it onto it's edge and leaning down to glare at the toy inside. "You wanna stop talking now? Or do you want me to come back down here after dinner, Mr. Ray?"

The dolls said nothing more and Stacy righted the cage as Will finished up. The went back upstairs, locking the door behind them.

On the table was Scout, with half a burger patty in her mouth. She froze when the two Hosts walked into the room.

"Scout, seriously?" Stacy asked. "You're supposed to wait for us before you start eating."

Scout spat out the half eaten patty. "You were taking too long. I wanted to eat."

"You still should have waited. We only took a couple of minutes."

"But I didn't want to wait."

Stacy just sighed, and grabbed a bun out of the bag to squirt some ketchup onto. This was a fight just not worth getting into, especially when it wouldn't change anything.

Instead they made up their buns and sides, and were sat down to eat. Will prayed, and Stacy waited for him to be done before digging in. Scout didn't even wait, and just finished off her meat patty before digging into the macs and cheese.

The trio ate in silence, too hungry to talk at first. But eventually Stacy swallowed a bit, and decided she was sick of the quiet.

"So, you make any progress with the Gardner job?" She asked Will. Doll torturer or not, he did still have a "real" job, same as her.

"Eh, a little. Gotta ask who usually uses the computer, though. It's full of viruses from porn sites."

"Ew. Do they have a kid, or just a really stupid adult?"

"They've got a twelve year old girl, so she's the most likely suspect." Will swallowed another bite. "Miss Gardner is always away and working, like, three jobs so it's gotta be the kid or a friend she has."

"Who would go on a porn site? It's just naked sweaty Hosts, they're gross."

"Uh..." Stacy wondered how to handle this. And then wondered if Scout had ever gone on one of those sites, to know about that part. "It's... just a thing. Some people like to look at." She coughed. "Don't question it."

"Sure." Scout comped down on a green bean, and Stacy gave a soft sigh of relief. Scout was bad enough with her language already, and Stacy didn't want to risk her learning more words and terms.

Dinner ended soon after that, with Will loading the new dishwasher when everyone was done eating. He went back downstairs to finish up what he'd been doing. Stacy and Scout meanwhile went to play video-games. Well, Stacy played, while Scout watched her do quests from her lap.

"Go down that tunnel! Go! The left!" Scout pointed forcefully, waving her arms when she was ignored.

"No, that's where we came from." Stacy sighed, annoyed yet also a little amused. "Would you rather be the one playing?"

"No. I can't hold the controller." The Puppet waved her off before suddenly yelling. "You're not looting the bodies!"

"And you won't shut up." The Host muttered, looting a single body before going back to chasing the objective. "Are you sure you don't want to play?"

"How would I even fucking do that? Don't answer that."

"Okay." Stacy fought a few more Drauger. She thought about mentioning that she wouldn't really mind it, if Scout wanted to play, but decided against it. The body swap was still a sore subject, and she didn't want to ruin the good mood.

A ping from her phone, and she paused the game to answer a text from her brother. Being the nosy Puppet that she is, Scout tried to see what she was typing. "Who's that? I thought you didn't have friends."

"It's my younger brother, Danny. Doc wanted me to talk to him more, so I am."

Scout blinked. "You have a brother?" She thought back, tried to think if she'd ever seen any pictures of Stacy's family, but couldn't remember. Will she knew had a picture of his mother, but other than that neither Host talked about their families that much.

"Yeah." A couple of swipes, and she lowered the phone to show the Puppet a photo of a younger boy. He had the same reddish hair she did, but with much paler skin and brighter blue eyes. He was also wearing an absolutely atrocious looking sweater. "He's about eight or nine years younger than me, depending on who's had a birthday at that point."

"Oh..." Scout stared at the picture. "Why is he wearing headphones?"

"Those are part of his cochlear implants. He's deaf." She swiped back over to messaging to finish her text. "But he got the surgery at a young enough age that you pretty much can't tell. He's just got a little bit of a weird sounding accent."

"Oh, cool." Stacy finished her text and went back to the game, Scout watching quietly this time. "I have a brother."

Stacy fumbled an attack, but recovered quickly enough that she didn't die. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah. And three sisters." She squirmed a little, playing with the hem of her shirt. "... They probably all have Hosts by now. They were a lot better at... fitting in, than I was."

"Oh." Stacy paused the game, considering. "I'm... uh, do you you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah. I just thought you should know about them." She settled back, and Stacy unpaused the game. "I doubt I'm ever going to see them again, anyways. They were all assholes."

"Sounds like it, if they were able to "fit in" over there."

-------

Canon huffed, doing her best to try and suck in air. This was the... she didn't know how many times she'd been almost torn apart by the spells Mortimer was working on. Not really, of course, but it certainly felt like it. Like there was a scalpel carefully slicing into each stitch, cutting the small threads one by one.

"Hmm, looks like things are going well. I think I'm just about done with this spell." The magician commented, ignoring how the smaller Puppet lay limply on the floor. "Yes this plan has come together splendidly! Soon your sister will be right where she ought to be."

"... Great..." She groaned, trying to force herself upright. She failed, falling back to the floor with a soft thump. "I... can't... wait..." She had to finish the rhyme, at least, no matter how much it hurt.

"Indeed." He smirked, then grabbed a phone off the wall. "Oh Riley, we're just about ready to start! All we're missing now is the star! So gather your tools and a henchman, and go warm up the car."

"Preparations have already begun!" She relayed with an excited giggle. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

[putas-in-suffering]

6, Angel porfis! Extraño a mi Angel 🤤🤤

You watched the fight within the cage with wonderment and mild fear. Every time the guys did this you found yourself looking away on most occasions, too squeamish to watch the blood spurt from another cut on someone’s face. And tonight was no different.

You and Angel were on the porch of the clubhouse, away from most of the crowd as you watched the fight taking place. You were leaned against the railing, sipping on a beer as Angel’s hands cradled you hips. He’d been talking on and off to his brothers that would pass by, subconsciously rubbing your hips with his fingers as he spoke. When they’d walk away, he’d go back to watching the fight with you.

But in the last few minutes, Angel had gotten handsy. And you were trying very hard to keep his focus on the fight and not on the arousal growing between you two. 

“Angel,” You warned, feeling his lips hit your neck and his hands trying to reach under the hem of your dress. 

“What?” He asked, faux innocence coating his tone. His hands continued to move upwards, albeit slowly. You reached out to stop him, mindful of any eyes that may decide to look your way.

“You can’t.” You protested weakly, not giving him much of an admonishment. Because at the end of the day you always wanted his hands on you. If you had it your way, the man would be inside of you 24/7. 

“I’m not gonna do anything, baby.” He tried to reassure you, the effort half-assed. 

“Someone could see, Angel.” 

You leaned back against him, despite your words. You found comfort in his arms, feeling untouchable…invisible. If only that were true. 

“I’ll be careful.” He insisted, hands still sliding up your legs. His rings sent a chill through your already overheated skin, the heaviness of the metal appealing to your body immensely. You momentarily got lost in the sensations, the words dying on your lips as you let him graze your skin. 

He tensed when he reached your core, the realization of what he’d found making him stop. You prepared for his reaction, knowing he wasn’t going to be happy about your situation, hence your apprehension. His hands immediately fell from beneath your dress, allowing the material to fall back into place. 

“Seems like you forgot to wear any underwear tonight.” He said darkly, the arousal in his voice making the words come out thick and heavy. 

You squirmed against him, now fully aroused and begging for more. “I couldn’t with this dress. I’m s-,” 

“You were gonna let me show that pussy to everyone? Let them see what’s mine?” Angel cut you off, mouth right by your ear and breathing hotly down your neck. 

“Angel-,” You started, but knew the effort was futile. The damage had been done. 

“Come on.” He ordered, pulling at your hand. He didn’t give you a choice in the matter. 

You didn’t bother asking where you were going. You only followed along dutifully as he led you through the clubhouse and towards the bar. He pulled you behind it, the space momentarily abandoned while everyone was outside. The whole clubhouse was still in fact. No one would hear you scream.

Angel gestured to the bar top, but you only looked on, puzzled by the meaning. He sighed in frustration as he reached for your hand again.

“You wanna run the risk, you gotta pay the price.” He said, suddenly hauling you off your feet and setting you on the worn wood of the bar. The surface was cool and you flinched at the feel of it against your bare skin.

Your eyes moved to the door frantically, worried someone would come in. Angel caught the acton and chuckled as he stepped between your legs. Even with the added height, he still towered over you. His hands ran up your thighs, spreading them.

“Everyone’s busy outside. But even if they did come in, its what you wanted right? No panties so anyone could see what I was doing to you?” Angel taunted, closing in on your space. 

You let your hands keep you upright as he pulled you closer to the edge and got onto his knees. You felt your pussy tremor and all your blood rush to the center of your legs at the sight. He licked his lips as he moved in closer, his intention obvious. 

He wasted no time. 

His bearded mouth assaulted you without mercy. He hit all your spots, knowing your body like the back of his hand. You cried out at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, tangling your fingers in his hair and clenching your thighs around his head. 

His mouth suctioned against your clit while his fingers hit knuckle deep inside you. His dark eyes watched you writhe and whimper, the satisfaction reflecting in them making you wetter than ever. Your eyes continually cut to the door, the fear of one of the guys seeing you like this still radiating in your mind. 

“Fuck, Angel…” You moaned, gripping hard at his thick locks. He pulled away, facial hair coated with your essence, fingers still sheathed within you.

“I want you to cum hard, baby. Let them know.” He angled his chin towards the crowd beyond the clubhouse walls. 

You shook your head.

“Do what I say, querida.” His fingers punctuated the aggressive words, forcing you to try and jerk away from his touch. It was too much. The whole thing, it was too much. His mouth, his fingers, the risk of anyone walking in and seeing you perched on the bar while Angel ate you out…it was all too overwhelming. Your body agreed because in the next moments you were cumming. 

“Oh, god…” You moaned, pushing Angel’s face into your pulsing pussy. Your body went rigid with ecstasy as you released, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. 

“Shit, you look fucking perfect like this.” 

The blood was rushing through your ears, but you could hear Angel’s voice through the white noise, complimenting you with such reverence that you shook with an aftershock of orgasmic bliss. You whimpered and shoved his hand away when the oversensitivity kicked in. You struggled to catch your breath, looking down at your man between your legs with a lopsided smile. He was pleased with himself. Hair tousled from your fingers and beard glistening with your juices. 

He licked his fingers clean as he stood. 

“I’m hard as fuck.” He rubbed himself with one hand while capturing your lips in a messy kiss, making you taste yourself. Your hands went to his belt buckle, but he stopped you. “No time.”

You nodded in understanding, but the pout on your lips said otherwise. 

“None of that.” He chastised, tapping your bottom lip. He helped you down off the bar, steadying you on shaky legs. He tipped your chin up towards his, pinning you with a hard stare. You could see the love swirling in the dark orbs, though it was eclipsed by his fierce arousal. 

“Don’t pull that shit again without telling me.” 

“Okay.” You responded obediently, not caring to pick a fight with him about it. His was possessive. You’d always known that. And as much as it could get in the way, it also made you impossibly wet, however archaic that sounded. 

The door swung open instantly, bodies flooding in from outside. The music filtered in, along with the cigarette smoke as people scattered across the space. Coco, Gilly, and EZ approached the bar, eyes questioning the two of you.

“Fight over?” Angel asked his brothers, pulling a beer from the fridge. He screwed off the lid and took a long pull before handing it to you, allowing you to do the same. 

“Yeah, Pedro got knocked out. Can’t believe you guys missed it.” Gilly said, accepting the new bottle of beer Angel handed to him. 

“Needed some space.” He explained vaguely, the men not pressing the matter. 

“You spill your beer or what?” Coco asked around his cigarette, gesturing to Angel’s face.

“Nah, why?” 

“You got a little something.” EZ motioned with a smirk, already knowing what his big brother had been up to.

Angel wiped at his beard, his hand coming away with clear stickiness. You tried hard not to laugh as he wiped his hand off on the paper towel you handed him. 

“Got splashed with something.” He said cooly, his face a mask of impassiveness. He was convincing, but you were surrounded by a bunch of men…men with facial hair…men with facial hair who ate pussy on the regular. 

You hid your smile behind your beer bottle, simultaneously mortified and amused. You couldn’t look any of them in the eye, least of all EZ.

“Sure.” Gilly said with a chuckle, the rest joining them. 

Angel held you against his side, unwilling to detach from you. He was going to make you experience this moment of humiliation. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. 

[baskervilleshound]

Her Cookies Were to Die For (PART 7)

((ahhhHHHH Hi frens. This particular chapter is very emotionally charged so ya better buckle up them seatbelts and get ready for some FEELZ. I’ve been like, kinda really stressed with all this madness going on in the world lately, so it actually felt very therapeutic to write this chapter. 

Anyways, I hope that you are all doing okay through these hectic times, and I love all of you. Enjoy!))

---

Hat Kid swallowed hard as she gazed at him in wonder for a moment, gently tilting her head.

“You were…him. The Prince,” she softly said, admiring the spectral creature with a smile. “You looked like the old you again.”

Hat Kid had rather enjoyed seeing Snatcher sleep so peacefully after the rough couple days that he was having. She almost regretted waking him up.

Snatcher, however, looked appalled by the entire thing. He immediately sat straight up, and began wringing his claws. It was only then that he noticed how empty inside he was feeling. He had expelled so many souls in the last few days, and had replenished none of them.

And by what the kid was saying…he was getting weaker, and quickly. His form shouldn’t have been changing- not without him manually doing so!

Snatcher heaved a deep sigh and shook his head, his long tail flicking and curling in agitation.

“You…why don’t you look like that more often?” Hat Kid asked as she slowly scooted herself closer to the ghost.

“Because that’s not who I am anymore, kiddo. That identity is long gone, and it won’t be coming back.”

“But that is who you are. You can’t just change entirely…can you?”

“Sometimes…yes. That’s just how the world works. You get hardened by time. And sometimes your untimely death.”

Snather huffed another deep breath and looked around Hat Kid’s room once again before looking at her directly in the eye.

“I have to go, kiddo,” he said, as he propped himself up on his claws, preparing to get back up. He needed to go eat something if he were to stop getting weaker. He needed a soul or two, and quickly.

“NO!!” A childish voice squeaked harshly into the air, as if she had heard the worst thing ever.

The kid’s shrill voice took Snatcher aback. He even began to shrink back into the pillows a bit. Did Hat Kid just…yell at him?

“Excuse me, young lady, but you can’t just…!”

“I said no, Snatcher!” Hat Kid cried once again. She had a finger pointed at the ghost, and her shoulders were shaking. Hard.

“Don’t go away, please! I don’t want you to go get hurt again! Every time you go back, you puke, and then you pass out, and I have to bring you back here because you can’t move…!”

Without warning, the girl actually began to break down into sobs. Her broken voice filled the air as bubbly tears spilled down her face in large waves. Snatcher began to wring his hands uncomfortably as he stared at the child in shock. He had never seen her act like this. She was always so happy and carefree, but now, she had tears trailing down her face, and her cheeks were bright red with upset. Her usual smile was now twisted into one of absolute dread.

Snatcher’s face began to burn. If he were still human, he would have begun to sweat.

“No, kid, you don’t understand…I…I need to,” he started to stutter.

“No, please, Snatcher…!” more sobs erupted from the girl before she threw herself against the ghost, gripping him with all her might in a fierce embrace. She buried her face into his body and wept.

Snatcher froze for a moment. He absolutely could not believe how hysterical Hat Kid was getting. It actually hurt him somewhere deep inside. Snatcher normally didn’t mind hearing the cries and screams of those who dared to trespass into his forest, but this…this was different. This person wasn’t crying because they were begging for mercy, or wanted to try to persuade him to let them go. No, this was the complete opposite.

Hat Kid didn’t want to let him go. It was a bit ironic considering the fact that Vanessa had clung to him and wept the same way, begging him not to go to college. That entire incident had been terrible, and had ended in an awful fight right before he left the following day. Vanessa’s cries had been those of bitter selfishness.

However, with Hat Kid, this was not the case. These were cries out of genuine care, perhaps even love. It was painfully obvious that these were of no malicious intent. For some reason, that in itself made Snatcher’s chest ache with something that he hadn’t felt in ages, and hadn’t even realized he still could feel.

Compassion.

“I don’t want her to get you. I don’t want her to hurt you…!” Hat Kid sobbed once again, gripping the ghost even tighter. “I found the note Snatcher! She gave you something, and I have a feeling it’s why you’re so sick. What did she do to you?!”

Hat Kid was crying so hard that she could barely breathe at this point. Snatcher honestly couldn’t blame her. She was only nine, and a lot of scary things had occurred very recently.

“Whoa, kiddo, hey,” Snatcher began. He paused for a moment, and his long arms hovered around Hat Kid’s shoulders awkwardly. “Let’s just try to calm down, okay?”

After a few moments and swallowing rather hard, the ghost finally allowed his long arms to wrap around her in an embrace.

“Calm down, kiddo. It’s okay. Calm down.”

His voice, for the first time in decades, actually sounded kind. As kind as a distorted ghost voice couldsound, that is.

“She didn’t do anything to me. She sent me cookies, and I ate them. That’s it.”

“B-b-but then you threw up…and now you keep throwing up and passing out,” Hat Kid whimpered. “I don’t want you to die, Snatcher. You’re my best friend, and I love you so much…”

Oh, that hurt. That hurt horribly. Snatcher found himself swallowing back on a small lump in his throat before shaking it off. No one had said those words to him and meant it in ages. However, he chose to laugh it off, or else he may cry. He wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with the emotions he was feeling. He felt so gummed up inside, and confused. The Snatcher didn’t have a soft spot for anyone. He had vowed he would never trust again, and yet, here he was getting choked up over some bratty little kid.

He quietly laughed, shaking his head as his tail flicked.

“Kiddo, I’m not going to die…again. The shackles already did that for me years ago,” he let out another laugh and sighed.

“No, no. I just need to eat.”

In an instant, Hat Kid finally tore herself from Snatcher’s side and glanced up at him, hope filling her vivid blue eyes.

“I…I can ask CC to make you all the bacon you want. You can have anything in the fridge that you want, in fact, I even have a secret stash of candy from that earth Halloween holiday that you can have. Whatever you need, you can have, okay?”

Regardless of the fact the kid was now speaking full, unbroken sentences, she was still obviously crying as tears littered her cheeks.

“Kid, maybe you need some candy. You gotta stop crying. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

He immediately stole the kid’s hat before placing it atop his head and lounging back into the pillows, curling himself into a noodle-like pile.

“Besides, it’s not human food that I need. I need souls. That’s why I’m feeling so weak, and need to get back to my forest as soon as I can. I need to eat.”

[mxvladdy]

Dinner for Two

Hello again! Hope y’all are doing just groovy. 

Here’s another fic! It can also be found here ! 

I got some WIPs in the works so it’s back to the coal mines for me. 

Chapters: 1-2-3 

The world spun again, more forceful than before. Reaching out blindly you grasp for the closest thing to you. This time it was your friend Genji. Cool metal wrapping around your forearm helping you steady yourself as you breathe through the wave of nausea.

“Doctor! Are you alright?” His scarred brows raising in worry looking for a place to let you rest. He leads you slowly to a nearby bench and away from your workstation.

You wave off his concern resting your fevered brow on your knees taking steady gulps of air in hopes to alleviate the sick feeling. “I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just exhaustion, haven't been able to sleep well of late.”

“Hmmm.” He sat nodding knowing the feeling all to well. “Missing your bear?” Genji joked releasing his hold on you to give you some space, his tone still laced with worry.

You chuckle dryly emerging from your ball to lean back, resting on the metal wall behind you. You did miss Jesse. It would have been a down right lie to say otherwise. His warm body encased around you, shaggy chestnut hair fanning out on his pillow. The whiskey smoke smell of him, an oddly comforting scent.

He was halfway through a six month mission with Soldier, Winston, and Angie to America looking into a Talon lead. As an infiltration mission, it requires time to build trust and connections. Meaning it was a pain in the ass for everyone.

I've been missing ya somethin’ fierce doll. Can't stop thinking about ya. Bed’s too cold nowadays. I wish ta god you could have come along. But can't be puttin’ all our medics in the field. His low timbre reverberating through the tinny speaker of your phone. Everytime he called it was a double edge sword, you were overjoyed that he was alive and safe. Yet it made the miles apart feel even longer.

You look up at Genji's patient expression. “I do.” You admit accepting the ninja's help getting up, the sickness passing as quickly as it had come. Genji nodded sagely heading back to your station where you had been working on an upgrade for his respiratory system. Your work was on par with Angie's, making the head medic feel comfortable dividing her workload with you.

“Perhaps you should take a break for the rest of the day? I'm not going anywhere and the upgrade isn't critical yet. Why not join Reinhardt and myself for lunch?” Genji nudged, placing his hand between you and your work. You agreed hoping a break would make you feel better.

It did not. Instead you retired to your quiet room curling around Jesse's pillow and drifted into a dreamless sleep stomach tossing and turning . This was your day to day life for the next three weeks. But it was only getting worse. Nausea, bloating, headaches, and fatigue plagued you as sleep evaded you. You hid;  brushing off concern with the same line.

“ It's just stress .” You sigh dismissing Ana's hand on your shoulder but graciously accepting the hot mug of tea. Enjoying her company in the common room after getting fed up with sitting in the spare medical lab all day.“I don't know how Angie does this.” You sigh dramatically.

“I sometimes wonder about the both of you. If I didn't know better I'd say you and Ziegler are secret masochists.” Ana chuckled. You flush, skin darkening as Ana levels you with a knowing smirk. “Ahh~Thought that was more you and Jesse's shtick.”

“What's more my shtick?” A deep southern drawl purrs behind you. A deep purr you thought you still had another two months before you could hear it in person. You didn't get a chance to turn before two strong burly arms wrapped around you. He smelled of sweat and gun oil. The staleness of the airship hung over him telling you more than anything that he just arrived.

Ana rolled her eye at your sequel when he lifted you into his chest spinning you around to capture you in a soul stealing kiss. “I was under the impression I still had another six weeks of peace.” Ana joked, raising to pat his back as he lowered you to the floor. His attention not wavering from you.

“You know me Ma’am, can't be kept away from ya.” Jesse winked his smile damn near blinding. “But the mission went off without a hitch, got all the data we need to put a hurtin’ on the next Talon operation.”

“Good,” Ana nodded curtly, looking at her com. “Ah… Soldier wants us all at the debriefing in five. Best be heading over.”

You both watch her leave arms still wrapped around each other. Jesse breaks first brushing his lips down your throat pulling a giggle from you as his beard hairs tickle you. Your good mood doesn't last long though as your nose seems to really pick up on his scent. The pleasant sweat and gun metal smell from earlier now astringent and overpowering. You gag choking back the bile in your empty stomach.

“Damn,” Jesse pulls back watching you cup your hand over your nose and mouth. “I smell that bad doll?”

“No. Sorry I've just been under alot of stress of late. My body is protesting.” You cough forcing yourself back into his arms.

He coos sympathetically rubbing your back. “M’ sorry sunshine, let me make it up to you tonight huh? Hot bath- a few drinks. Hell I'll even sneak out an’ get us some food from town, your choice. Maybe a movie if I can keep my eyes open long enough. Just gotta get through this damn debrief,” He looks at his com cover your shoulder checking for messages. “which we are ‘bout to be late for so let's get gettin’.”

You arrived only a few seconds late. Reinhardt holding the door for you and Jesse beaming brightly at you both. You took your seat next to Angie and Ana while Jesse sat by Genji and Lucio. Nodding politely at the two women you settle in listening to the monotone drone of Winston's debriefing scrolling through the file in front of you. He took an hour before Soldier started.

“Is it hot in here?” You whisper leaning over to Ana when 76 had his back to them. Ana frowned, shaking her head noting a slight sheen of sweat gracing your dark skin.

“Not really. Do you need to step out? This many bodies in a room could heat it up.”

You shake your head thinking maybe you were just overreacting. Instead you pour yourself a glass of water sipping slowly, losing focus. Ugh, that pesky nausea was back making the room swim. You could feel it at the corners of your vision. Had you eaten today? It wasn't abnormal for you to miss a meal or two. You ate ridiculously late last night, a sudden craving as you watched Hana play video games. So skipping breakfast shouldn't have been that bad an issue. Besides Lena had needed assistance with a nasty sprained ankle.

“You are looking a little under the weather my friend!” You jump glass shaking in your hand. Reinhardt sounded so distant, like though water. How odd…

You try to speak but your tongue seems to be cemented to your mouth. The room's axis tilts dangerously as you try to steady yourself. The swimming wasn't just at the corner of your eyes anymore. A blonde blob took up your vision. The blob speaking softly trying to take you with it.

A bad choice. Your knees buckled the moment you rose, the swimming in your vision turning violent. The water in your ears turned to crashing waves disorienting you as your vision went black.

You woke in darkness a faint light to your side illuminating flat white tiles above you. Your vision was steady but blurry as you took in your surroundings. It was the medical wing. You could tell that much by the stiff mattress and scratchy sheets covering you. A pressure in your arm gives you pause. Shifting in the sheets you touch at it recognizing the tug and pull of an IV drip.

“Ah! You're awake!” Angie chipper voice emerging from thin air to your side. “Gave us a fright back there.”

“What happened?” You asked, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion trying to focus on her uncharacteristically tight smile. She hums bringing up your charts.

“Low blood sugar. Very low blood sugar. Bordering on coma inducing, you banged your head rather hard when you passed out; but it's fine. Everyone is fine.” She friendly tone turning professional and curt, her hands busy adjusting your IV and raising the lights in the room slightly. “Are you too hot? Too cold? What was the last thing you ate? You should have come and told me sooner.”

Angie helps you sit up adjusting the bed and pillows to your comfort. “Angela I'm fine. I have been just so caught up in work, you know I get stress sick sometimes. I'll be more careful.”

Your friend stopped midway into checking your vitals. “Are you- I had thought as much. It's unlike you to be so reckless.” She finishes jotting down a quick note before handing you your medical records.

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You scroll through blindly feeling ill for a whole new reason. How could you have been so stupid to have not picked up on all the subtle changes. You backtrack the past months counting the days. Your period, while erratic and hard to chart was never this late.

“How…” Your voice cracks lowering the tablet to your knees. Angie waits putting a supportive hand on your leg watching you process. “I'm a fucking doctor, and I miss that I'm pregnant!” Your laugh was empty, on the verge of hysterics. Shaking in a mix of awe and panic you place a hand  against your midriff. How could you miss this?

Fat is soft and malleable when you gain it. It grows in multiple areas at once, not collecting in one area growing steadily for so long. Dread fills you. You had been foolish thinking you were eating too much, so you cut back, taking up walking with Mei and hikes with Lucio. You had been starving yourself. Your child.

“Don't,” Angie cut into your downward spiral of guilt. “I'm not the most well versed in this but I did as thorough a check as I could and everything looks fine. You're underweight for the start of your second trimester but other than that you're fine,” She squeezes you leg reassuringly. “ they are fine .”

Falling back on the bed you bury your face in your hands groaning out. “Angie how did I fuck up this bad.”

She chuckled against her better judgement, but knowing you the worst had passed for now. “I can take some of the blame. I did dump a lot on you before I left. I knew I could trust you to stay focused on our work. I guess I underestimated how focus you would get. We are much in the same on that front. Stress does strange things to the body, as we both know. I, if I was in your shoes, would probably write it off as stress too.”

You gripe folding your arms defensively over your belly remembering Ana's comments from early. Jesse. “What do I tell Jesse? Did you say anything to him?” You snap rounding on your friend.

“I have kept everyone out including him till I could assess what was wrong, as per protocol. No matter what that man says otherwise.” Angie frowned looking towards the door. “You haven't been under for more then three hours. But I doubt he has left his vigil at the door. Do you want me to get him?”

You shake your head vigorously wrapping yourself over your stomach defensively. You had never discussed children. Anything really outside of dating. How would he react? What would this mean for you in the newly reformed Overwatch? “I need some time. I have to think this over.”

Angie rose nodding in agreement. “Let me know whatever you decide. I'll be there anyway I can.” She helps you lower the bed and turns off the lights again before leaving. You hear her exit and immediately start talking with someone on the other side of the door.

It was two days before you allowed visitors deciding to spend those days cramming as much knowledge and food into you all while talking things through with Angela. You had decided to tell Jesse and go from there, notifying Winston you could do nothing but wait to see what this meant for you for work and living on base. Angie was adamant she would pressure him to let you stay on as a medic on base until you were ready to take leave. As for housing well; maybe you could find a nice flat off base if it was an issue. You didn't think your shared room with Jesse was large enough for three. If there would be three.

As if beckoned by your thoughts Jesse was there knocking softly on your door not a few minutes after Angie sent out a notice that you would be allowing guests. He flashed you a crooked smile raising a plastic bag with a little smiley face on it. “I promised ya a hot bath and food...bath might be later but I thought maybe you would like some non-Angie approved food.” He fidgeted holding back his want to dash to you, his fears threatening to overflow. Watching you just drop at that meeting almost took him down with you. You looked ill when he greeted you but he didn't think it was that bad. Angie said it was low blood sugar from lack of food and sleep. But he knew better, there was something else on top.

He waited watching you shift the massive amount of blankets around you, burying yourself further in their warmth before smiling shyly. Boots thumping loudly on the floor he approached his grin freer this time pulling up a chair and your floating tray. “Oh. Did ya already eat doll? I can come back later if you want. Ang’ been saying your still feelin’ a little green ‘round the gills.” He frowned, noticing the scraps of foods on your discarded plate. It looked like the remains of something he would eat. Fattening and full of greasy meat, a few half eaten fries were left.

“I could always eat more. That's why I'm in here.” You laugh reaching for the bag while Jesse placed his hat and wrap on a nearby coat rack. You groan loudly pulling out a take out box of sweet and sour chicken, sticky rice and dumplings. Jesse watched shocked as you dove in stuffing a dumpling whole into your mouth only noticing his stares after you crudely stuffed another in your mouth “Wha?”

“Nothin’ sugar. Glad you're eating. Though I didn't think you would take my box. I got you a healthier one… you and Angie always watch what ya eat.” He smiles fishing out the other box. “But I guess we can switch every once and awhile.” He winks toying with you not expecting the look of horror on your face, a stock of broccoli halfway to your lips. “It ain't a big deal! ‘sides you are always on my case about eating better. Eat up! Can't have my sunshine starving. ” He jokes taking a bite out of the baked fish in front of him.

“Ya.” You chuckle nervously lowering your fork. Turning your face from his. You spoke so softly he barely heard it. Your words slipping out like a ghost.

Since I'm eating for two…

It caught him like a sucker punch, the world moving at half it’s normal pace. Surely you didn't mean… “I- I don't think I'm getting the joke doll.” Jesse muttered mind reeling for an explanation for your comment, other than the obvious one. Because that one didn't make sense. Right?

You turn back fist gripping your blankets, knuckling white and hands shaking. “Every symptom has a cause. I fainted and I thought I was suffering from just exhaustion and fatigue. Turns out they were just symptoms too.” Brushing aside the quilts you touch your stomach gently refusing to look at him.

“Are… how long?” Jesse asked voice no louder then your ghost like whispers.

“Angie said four months give or take a few weeks.”

Jesse leaned back quietly. “How long have you known?” Why didn't you trust him to tell this? Had he done something to make you think otherwise? You never brought up children but never talked negatively of it either. His heartbeat ecstatically thoughts flashing a mile a minute.

“When I woke up. I didn't realize until then,” You finally turn trying to fight back the tears of panic threatening to break free. “I swear. I would never have been so foolish if I had known. I would have told you.”

Jesse rose whipping a stray tear from your cheek and wrapping you in a tight hug, shoulders trembling from unshed tears himself. “I know, I trust ya. Jesus baby meeting you was the blessing I never deserved.” He kissed you then, peppering little kisses all over your cheeks, your nose and lips never settling for one place for long.

“You want this? Jesse I won't force this on you.”  You ask, starting to realize your fears may be unfounded.

“Whatca’ mean ‘if I want this’? I love ya, every bit I can get! I mean I would have done this a bit different. A cute little house with a cute little dog.” He paused licking his lips debating for a moment before continuing. “The nicest damn ring I can afford… But what's life without a few curves?” He smiles warmly a soft flush gracing his cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh in shock. The words warming you completely making your heart flutter. It was a sweetness that made you feel good, feel safe when he pulls you in tighter murmuring hopes and promises into your ear. You smile snuggling in close, kissing his cheek and rubbing his broad shoulders wondering why you worried in the first place. This could work. You knew he would try and you wouldn't back down either. You loved him too much to not at least try.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Off Day: Ten

 Bucky kissed your nose and brushed hair out of your eyes tenderly, “You don’t have to do this,” he said softly.

“But I do,” you murmur. He cocks his head, “Why is this so important?” he asks gently. When you look away he tilts your chin up, “Don’t get me wrong baby girl, I’m willing. I’ve wanted to do this a long time. I just want to understand.”

“I didn’t have time to go Christmas shopping,” you tease meekly.

“Y/N,” he chuckles, “Really, why?”

“I just want to feel something that doesn’t hurt,” you murmur, “I just want everything to feel normal.”

Bucky kneels in front of you and kisses the hands he’s holding. “Well now I feel used,” he teased, chuckling.

“No- I-” you look shocked and a little panicked and he kisses you quiet lovingly.

“Baby,” he chuckles, “It’s okay. I understand. I do. I spent years chasing tail and drinking to do just that. I just don’t want you to regret doing this now.”

You shake your head blushing, “How could I? It’s you.”

Bucky kisses your hand again and looks up at you, “Alright,” he soothes, “Wait here for me?”

You nod and swallow hard, suddenly nervous.

Bucky kisses your cheek and sets about making sure the room in comfortable, lighting the candles he lights after he cleans his house and adding a few more blankets to the bed for more comfort. He wants you comfortable. Once he has candles lit he flips off the room light and  pulls you gently to your feet.

“Do you trust me?” he asked quietly.

“I trust you, Bucky,” you answer, reaching tentatively towards the hem of his shirt to get him out of it. He nods, smiling softly and pulls it off, tutting playfully, “Impatient?”

You blush, “Maybe a little.”

“Well,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna take my time with you baby girl, I been dreaming about you for 20 goddamn years.”

“I- really?” you murmur.

“Really,” he answers, helping you strip him out of his jeans as your hand fumble with his buckle. He doesn’t mind your inexperience the way he had before with some of the women he’d had. He wants you to be comfortable. He wants you to experience this. Experience tenderness. He slows down when he gets down to his boxers and steals a kiss, reaching for your sweatshirt. He really hopes that dimming the lights helps. He knows you don’t like people seeing your scars but he can’t bear not making love to you where he can see you. He wants to see you. Admire you. Lavish affection on. All of you. Even the things you hate. 

When you nod, swallowing hand, he strips you out of your sweatshirt gently and ghosts soft kisses across your collar bones, “Don’t be nervous,” he soothed, “I’m gonna take care of you, baby girl.” When your pants join the head on the floor and you’re half naked in front of him he lays you down on the bed. He doesn’t waste any time, he lavishes soft kisses over every inch of your skin he can reach, looking for places that make you make sounds he likes.

He isn’t disappointed. 

You’re not loud but somehow the ocassional quiet gasp and soft sigh and breathless giggle do more for him than all of Char’s loud moans and screams. That had been for other people, a performance. This? This was all for him and he adored your every tentative touch and shy kiss. “Good girl,” he rumbled, “You’re doing so good for me.”

He palms your cunt slowly, chuckling when your hips jerk, “You’re so wet for me,” he breathes, kissing your belly as he keeps his hand against you, rubbing slowly. It makes you squirm and Bucky watches, enjoying the view for just a moment. “Bucky,” you pant, breathless, “oh fuck- I- don’t stop?”

You look up at him and he grins, “Oh sweetheart,” he rumbles, “that’s good. That’s very good. I wanna make you come for me. Wanna make you come until you can’t take anymore.”

He increases the pressure just a little. His cock aches and he wants to sheath himself inside you and take you both to bliss, but he can’t yet. He wants to see you come. He’s not ever really touching you yet. You’re so sensitive that just this is gonna bring you off for him and he wants to see. He wants to know how you come apart. When you do, he almost loses it. You arch into him, crying out sharply, hands tangling in the sheets with a shudder and a moan that make him groan in response. “Bucky,” you whisper, reaching for him and he scoops you up, bringing you down gently, covering your face in kisses until you giggle. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “You did so good for me, baby. So pretty when you come for me.” While he talks, he strips you out of your bra and panties expertly, taking time to lavish kisses on your bare breasts, licking lovingly at each pierced nipple. “So naughtly,” he rumbled approvingly, laughing when you arch into him for more. You’re blushing as he ghosts his thumbs over the pebbled flesh and he kisses you, “When did you get them done?” he asked.

“A while ago,” you answer, “Some time during art school... It was all a bit of a haze then, to be honest. I don’t really remember.”

He grinned, “Partied a little too hard huh?”

You shrug, “Acid is really fun once you figure out to just chill on the floor and listen to music and look at the pretty lights on the ceiling.”

Bucky snorted, “What’d you listen to?”

“A lot of Janis Joplin. Early Beatles. Elton John... Anything past like CCR just did weird things to the lights. Too cluttered I think.” you answer.

Bucky laughs, “Fucking hippies, man.”

“Hey,” you pout, “Don’t knock it til you try it.”

“Would you ever fuck on acid?” he teased.

“Maybe? I haven’t done acid since college either though.”

Bucky shifts you over to be on top of him and swats you on the ass affectionately, chuckling when you yelp.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna have to be careful with you if we ever get adventurous.”

You blush, “Sorry- I,”

“No,” he said sternly, “No apologies baby girl. You haven’t head-butted me in the dick. We don’t have any rules for you to break, I just never realized how... little it takes for you to get going. All that means is I need to pay attention so I don’t do too much and leave you feeling... exposed.” It wasn’t the right word but Raw wasn’t right either. Still, you seem to understand as you nod and snuggle against his chest. Bucky never wants to move. You’re warm. And Naked. And on top of him and he is very, very in love. Everything about you feels right. Feels like home.

And here you are, in his bed, shy and sweet. experimentally kissing his chest and tracing the lines of his abs, your light touch ticklish and arousing at the same time. Bucky lets you have this, kneading your ass and hips in his hands, staying quiet but to praise you when you do something that feels good. Hell. It all feels good. Even you carefully, cautiously touching his aching prick, but he stops you gently, “No ma’am,” he drawls, popping your backside firmly, “As much as I’d love to teach you all about that, that’s for another time. This is all about you baby. I’m not gonna come until you’re wrapped around me.”

“Then why are you still wearing boxers?” you ask, smirking at him.

Bucky’s grin as he flips you onto the bed easily and strips out of his boxers before pinning you to the bed and lavishing hungry, heated kisses down your body, makes your heart pound. The way he’s kissing you and the rasp of his stubble against your skin coaxes a soft moan from your lips and he nibbles lovingly on the inside of your thigh, “Have you ever used toys before?” he asked quietly. You nod, cheeks turning scarlet. “Have they ever gone inside you?” You nod again, biting your lip and he kisses you, “Good,” he said softly, “It means I won’t hurt you. Or at least you’re kinda familiar with the feeling... And it means I have more things to use to make you come and I- oh darlin’ I am a fan of that.”

You giggle and he smiles, settling between your legs, rolling a condom over his prick before pushing himself at your entrance making you gasp. “You’re sure?” he asks. And you nod, claiming his lips in a kiss that makes his brain go foggy. “We’re gonna do this the old fashioned way, baby,” he murmured, “I gotta keep my girl comfortable.”

You nod and he pushes in slowly, relishing the feel of you pulling him close. “That’s it,” he murmurs, giving you time to adjust, “That’s perfect, baby.” When he starts to move, you can’t help but wrap your legs around him and he smiles. You’re a cuddler, he knew. He figured you’d respond pretty well to the pressure of him being on top of you. Of feeling warm and safe. That’s what he’d wanted for you. Comfort. For the first time in his long string of lovers, he could actually say he was making love to a woman. This wasn’t just sex. This wasn’t a fuck. This was love as he looked into your big soft eyes, he felt warm all over. Not just from the exertion. It was something else. It started in his chest and radiated outward. Swirling in his belly like a shot of good whiskey on a cold day and wrapping him up in comfort of his own. 

He keeps the pace steady, covering your face and neck in kisses, basking in hearing you getting close for him again. He knows he could draw this out, keep you hovering in sweet agony waiting for release, but. He can’t brink himself to deny you. Not now. Not when “Please” sounds so pretty on your lips.He lets you come, crying out for him quietly and he follows, kissing you fiercely to keep from being too loud and ruining the quiet, sweetness of the moment. He smiles down at you and kisses the tip of your nose, “Thank you,” he murmured.

“For what?” you ask, burying your face in his neck.

“For this. For trusting me to take care of you.”

“I knew you would,” you murmur.

“How?” he asked, withdrawing from you slowly.

“You never meant to hurt me, Bucky. You’re a good man. Even if you were an asshole as a teenager.”

He snorts, “I’ll be right back.”

You nod and snuggle in under the blankets, chilled now that he’s not near you. Bucky cleans himself up carefully and joins you again, pulling you close.

“I should have gotten you naked sooner,” you murmur, “It’s not fair for someone to look that good.” 

He laughs, and kisses the side of your head as you snuggle close eagerly. “I have similar feelings about you,” he murmured, Frowning when you shake your head. “Baby, it’s true. I know. You hate that you’re all scarred up. But trust me doll,” he paused to kiss your nose, “I been with a lot of girls okay? And none of them. Not one. Has ever been as beautiful to me as you are. None of them have ever made me feel the things I felt just now. Baby, you’re so fucking perfect, please. Please don’t think you’re less than. I promise you, there’s nothing about you that’s ugly.” You look up at him, eyes over bright and he wipes tears away gently. You’re emotional under normal circumstances but right now you’re a little extra vulnerable. He might not have pushed limits, but he’s willing to bet this is still emotional for you on several levels. Hell, he may not be tearing up but he feels a little raw. Not unpleasantly so, mind you, but raw none the less. He smiles gently, “Let’s find a movie, huh? If I keep talking I’m bound to put my foot in my mouth and you need some sleep.” You nod and he finds something to watch. A Christmas Movie. Something calm and low stakes. Something that can lull you off to sleep.

“Bucky?” you murmur, half awake and starting to drop off.

“Hmm?” he answers, tucking the blankets around you.

“I love you.

“I love you too, Baby girl.”

Tags: @lancsnerd @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess