#but this mental image has been dominating my brain all day

[pool-core]

Crystal blue water and vibrant pink flowers

The smell of vanilla and sea salt

The sound of flowing water and rustling leaves

Warm wind blowing over you and the gentle rocking of cool waves

The knowledge of a soft towel and a clean bed waiting for you

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XXV. Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by @thekingofkawai​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors. 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, AMAB oral receiving, penetrative sex (AFAB+AMAB)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello there dearest readers. Here it is. The final chapter of Remember Me, Special Dreams. I won’t replicate all the sentiments I wrote about in my post here but just know that I love and appreciate every single one of you who has read this story. Until next time, all my love, Saskia ❤️

Sandman Masterlist  

-----------------  

5 Years Later

The weekend bag weighing down your dominant hand is what you focus on as you de-materialise in an eddying haze. Despite having travelled this way countless times, you still get anxious about doing it alone. Getting out of your head by connecting with your senses was a good way of diminishing the feelings but the only thing that could truly banish them was the sight of your destination, the heart of the Dreaming.

It had only been a couple of days but you had missed it keenly.

You taste the fresh, nurturing air as you gratefully inhale a breath. Welcome images of both pure realism and fantasy beam from your optic nerves to your brain. Faint sounds of ripples across the surface of the lake are a soothing soundtrack. Your tension from travelling melts away.

You journey across the bridge that leads to the front doors. Sure, you could have appeared inside the palace but you like the walk to soak in every detail of the approach and converse and check in with Dreamfolk that you see on your way.

You have timed your arrival to coincide with the end of Morpheus' audience hours in the throne room. You take the familiar route to the place now.

With a careful press of your palm, you noiselessly push one of the doors open and slip through the gap. While neither of you can see each other yet, you are aware that Morpheus knows you are here. He would have felt your presence as soon as you re-entered the Dreaming.

You leave your luggage to the side of the door frame and walk to the bottom of the curving staircase. The resplendent glass panels that serve as a backdrop eke gorgeous pastel shades over the marble that makes up the cathedral-like room.

As you look up to where Morpheus sits on his throne, a warm smile touches his rosy lips, one that you cannot help but return.

"My love," his voice oozes with the sweetness and warmth of honey and ginger.

"My Lord."

You ascend the steps, each footstep invoking a growing anticipation. To be close to Morpheus again is your only wish.

Once stood in front of him, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his mouth. His lips touch the ring on your left hand; a silver band set with a black opal. The iridescent speckles in the stone reflect colours of red, blue and green onto his pale skin.

He keeps his eyes locked with yours throughout, enhancing the intimacy.

You pull your hand away gently and rest it on the back of your neck as you are overwhelmed by the feelings blossoming in your chest.

Even after all these years, he is still able to make you giddy and delirious.

"Hi Morpheus," You say shyly.

"Hello, Y/N." He stands and puts his hands firmly on your waist. "Tell me how you are, how were your parents?"

You smile broadly as you mentally recall the weekend you had spent together. Afternoon walks and conversations that lasted long into the night. Wholesome food and non-stop tea drinking. Reminiscing and planning for the future. So much love and affection.

"It was lovely. They were on sparkling form, although they seemed a bit disappointed that you couldn't be there."

"Next time, I promise." He pulls you into an embrace. His clean, comforting scent is a balm.

You mumble your next words against his chest. "I think they might also be starting to notice that I've stopped ageing."

You are melancholy about this; their realisation means it will bring about change and you have grown quite accustomed to your life in its current guise.

"Do you regret your decision?" He whispers.

Pulling away, you cup his jaw with a hand. "Not at all. I promised forever in our wedding vows."

"And I promised to support you in times of difficulty.”

"It's okay. We always knew this day would come."

"We should decide what to tell them."

"I agree,” you lighten your tone. “But first, you must let me know how you have been."

Morpheus looks wistful. "I have missed you, My Queen, as I always do when we are apart."

"I missed you too. Especially at night."

You are referring to the necessary measure where you are shut off from the Dreaming when you spend a night in the waking world. It is something that you know saddens Morpheus, for it brings him great satisfaction to feel you enjoying dreams again after choosing to live predominantly in the Dreaming, particularly the dreams he makes especially for you.

"I thought about you a lot when I was alone," you confess in an afterthought.

Morpheus raises his eyebrows. "Did you think of anything in particular?"

"I think you can guess."

He chuckles with a playful smile. "I have an inkling but I would much prefer you tell me."

"I would much prefer to show you."

You push on his shoulders to get him to sit once more and then sink down onto your knees. Your long black coat, deliberately reminiscent of Morpheus’ own, pools about you.

“May I?” You ask as you trace an index finger around the circumference of the button on his trousers.

He nods and a little thrill electrifies your core. While it was not the first time you had done things in this room, you always find it exhilarating to be able to pleasure your King atop his throne, and even more so when you are the one taking charge of the situation.

You free his erection and steady it at the base with your hand. His tip is dripping with arousal; you lap at it with your tongue and he gasps.

His reaction makes you grin mischievously. You tease him with little licks and kisses until he is tense with need. He has never begged verbally yet you know that this state is the closest he will get to uttering the words and a cue that he is desperate.

The instinct to quell his torment is all-encompassing.

You open your lips and take him into your mouth. The groan he issues as you envelop him is guttural.

You take in as much as you can handle without bringing yourself discomfort and then look up at your husband. Lustful darkness glints in his eyes. You move.

Dragging upwards, you suck all the way to his swollen tip, swirl your tongue around and then dip back down. You repeat this at various speeds and pressures, and use your hands to provide extra sensation. Scandalous, wet noises and breathy panting fill your ears and turn you on.

You slow a little and peek up at Morpheus. His hands are gripping the arms of the throne, clearly showing the strain he is bearing in order to keep himself under control. You know that he wants to let his hips rise up. You tighten your lips and move faster to compensate. He begins to twitch.

“Y/N,” he calls.

You withdraw.

"I want you in my lap."

You stand, and as you do so the clothes covering your body dissolve into nothing. It is a feat that never fails to impress you.

Morpheus moves to sit further forward on the throne and you place yourself so your thighs are either side of his hips. His expectant expression and the feeling of skin on skin makes you quiver with delight.

You fix your attention on the enchanting, exquisite face that you adore, at the person you love so dearly and your heart stumbles. You sometimes wonder how the universe pulled this off however you are glad it managed to.

Morpheus draws your face to his and you kiss deeply, running your fingers through his wild, wispy locks. His own fingers massage your breasts and your nipples harden against his soft palms.

Without breaking the kiss, you position your entrance to hover over his cock. You pull back and look deep into Morpheus’ bottomless blue eyes.

"Do it," he says darkly, as his smouldering gaze consumes you.

You drop down with a controlled flex of your leg muscles.

The groan that rumbles in his chest is like the growl of a jaguar. Your own groan is higher in pitch but just as vehement.

You find a rhythm; a shallow yet sensual one that keeps you from knocking your knees or Morpheus' back into the upright of the seat.

You stare at each other with wonder. All that pent up longing seeps away, replaced by relief.

Your forehead falls to rest on his shoulder. From your new viewpoint, you have full sight of the place where your bodies are joined. You blink in surprise.

Literal constellations are swirling, dancing on your skin.

Shades of blue, purple and pink highlighted with twinkles of silver, they caress the insides of your thighs, hips. Everywhere that Morpheus’ skin is touching yours.

You have no idea whether he knows what he is doing.

You stop your rutting and raise your head.

"My love?" He questions with concern.

You look down again and he follows suit.

Morpheus sees the galaxies. His lips part in surprise.

He experimentally trails his fingers up your neck and across your jaw. You can’t see however you know that the same is happening because of his expression of fascination.

His hands are then everywhere. Brushing over your lips, eyelids, breasts, stomach, leaving stars in his wake. He's painting you with his very essence. Making you shine with the same radiance of the ceiling above you.

He then places a palm over your heart. “I love you, Y/N,” he intones delicately.

“I love you, Morpheus.”

You kiss again before you grip the back of the chair and lift yourself up a little. Morpheus' hands grasp your hips and making full use of the newly created space, he begins to pump up into you.

Burying your face against his neck, you gasp with every thrust as he hits a spot inside you that makes you feel like you are on the way to losing your composure.

You allow him to do it. You let yourself be swept by his currents, higher and higher into the boundless night sky above you.

He then makes a sound that has been echoing in your mind since the very first time you had sex. A deep, drawn out moan of pleasure that makes your walls start to constrict.

You relish the cooling flood of liquid that he spills inside you and the shuddering of his release triggers your own. Morpheus' long fingers then engulf your clit with sweet friction and your body arches with ecstasy.

You are suspended, floating in the vacuum of space. The stars that float around you, the same as the ones marking your skin.

Your lips are forming a single word. His name, but you can't hear the sound in your current orbit.

Morpheus' voice pulls you back through the atmosphere and down to somewhere more grounded.

He is murmuring praises that tickle the shell of your ear.

You are weak, unable to reply with anything but laboured breaths. Your legs shake so much that you are afraid you will fall if you try to get up. All you can do is cling to him like a koala on a eucalyptus tree.

Morpheus stands, still buried inside you. Your surroundings transform into your bed chamber.

You whimper when you feel your centre of balance shift as he goes to lay you down on the sheets. You don’t want to leave the safety his arms provide.

"Relax, my love," he murmurs.

He lets his cock slip out from your warmth. Pillows cushion the back of your head and cotton meets your bare skin. He clears his release away with a wave of his hand and drapes the covers over your exhausted frame. Suddenly, he is gone from your vision field.

"Morpheus?" You sound fearful.

"I am here, Y/N." He reassures.

He settles into the space beside you. You smile as you feel his hands stroking your face. Soothing you this way was something he excelled at.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

You shake your head, fighting to keep your eyes open. “No, thank you.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

"Sleep, my love. I will watch over you until you wake."

It was such an inviting idea. The light in the room begins to dim, as if Morpheus has read your thoughts.

You give in to the lull, but before you are drawn under, you grab onto Morpheus’ hand.

"Don't leave me, please," you implore.

He lies down beside you and pulls you flush against his chest with his lithe arms.

His reply is a promise, spoken with his usual sibilance of storm clouds and sea breezes, a promise that would last for eternity.

"I wouldn't dream of it.”

-----------------

"So let me sleep where I live. With a murder of crows that live in the boughs of my brain. See me when I float like a dove. The skies above are lined with trees. I'm on my knees, I'm singing please. Come and take me away."

A/N II: A happy ending! Hope you enjoyed it. Would love to know your thoughts. Have a good evening ❤️

Also. Send help. I watched The Boat That Rocked and On The Road last week and I am now more in love with Tom than ever.

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch ​@layla2-49 ​ @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 ​ @boofy1998 ​ @dotieeee ​ @ponysboy-sunsets @fangirlmary ​ @littledollll ​ @fatimakinney @jamiethenerdymonster ​ @rosaren2498 ​ @mr-sandman-bring-me-a-dream ​​ @madiebear ​​ @sandman-33 ​​ @sallysal9 ​​ @asiludida164 ​​ @elf-punk ​​ @grungeisntmything ​​ @sapphireonline ​​ @seninjakitey ​ @emarich7 ​

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 35

Gale and I step into the building of the Inn after a fresh stroll through Waterdeep, which smells of freshly baked sourdough bread and blueberry muffins. Quite the pleasure to the senses, I must say. It reminds me of innocent days where my mother would bake me a delicious homemade breakfast twice a week before going to the temple to pray to Sȇlune. As we enter the Inn, I notice a couple high elves and a dwarf playing some morning tunes on the lute and flutes to set the mood for those morning people. Rolan is sitting down at a table alone with his cup of coffee. Rolan’s face lights up as he notices us approach him.

“Ah! My friends, come sit!” Gale and I accompany him at the table and immediately a waitress hands us our menus. “It’s good to see you both. And how nice it is to get away for a little while.”

“How has it been at the tower?” Gale asks with a welcoming tone. “Are you practicing becoming a master wizard? I wouldn’t doubt it if you’re there already.”

“Ah, you’re too kind. Unfortunately, I’m not where I want to be just yet. I’m only improving every day. I’m having to partake in my studies more frequently, as well as teaching Cal and Lia the wonders of magic. Just in case anything happens to me. Enough about my life story.” He studies our baby, smiling but looking rather perplexed. “Say, you’ve had your baby for a while now, right? Or am I going mad as a hatter?” Crap! We never told him our situation and that Jenevelle won’t ever age.

“Whew, it’s a very long story, but here it goes,” I mentioned, mentally preparing myself for his reaction. I go into detail with him about what happened with Jenevelle and how the devils needed her soul to destroy Raphael. How we were promised immortality and that the outcome would have been torture if we didn’t do what we did. As I explain, he looks rather astonished and I can’t exactly tell if he’s judging me.

“Oh Gods, I’m… I’m so sorry. That could not have been an easy predicament to be in. I’m glad it all worked out in the end, at least.” Abruptly, as Gale begins speaking to Rolan, the sounds around me become muffled and my vision fades to darkness, but like a cloud of smoke. This has happened to me before, ages ago…right after I had Jenevelle. Images of Gortash, Orin, and even Ketheric appear right in front of my very eyes, and it’s as if they’re actually here. Holy shit.

“Hello Emmy.” Gortash’s voice still sounds the same, though I can tell hatred is being spat right at me. I swallow the fear and horror as his haunting voice speaks to me. Tell me I’m fucking dreaming and this isn’t happening. I guess if mind flayers can change forms and hags can curse people, anything is possible.

“Well, are you going to say anything, or just sit there silently, mentally squirming at our words as we claw our way into your soul? You’re wasting every second that could be used to slaughter every breathing piece of flesh left standing,” Orin teases, flashing her bloody teeth as she smiles.

“Quiet, Orin. Emmy, dear, we’ve been watching you. My, you are quite the impressive specimen, killing not only all three of us, but the netherbrain itself. You even destroyed countless assassins of Bhaal. I’m impressed. It’s a shame you didn’t put that talent to use and dominate the brain like I instructed before. So inconsiderate and stupid.”

I try to speak, but I’m interrupted by Ketheric’s haunting voice.

“If you make a single sound, your husband, your friend, and everyone else in this building will hear you. Choose wisely,” he growls, smirking at me. I clench my fists, feeling rage flush through me as I fight off the urge to speak.

“Now, as I was saying,” Gortash retorts, cracking his knuckles. “Imagine all of the lives you could have saved by dominating the brain. You could have controlled all the Bhaal cultists –”

“No, no, no, no, NO! You tyrant, are you listening to yourself?!”

“Unlike you, Orin, I crave control. Power. Not the deaths and flesh of millions of people. Not the screams of the innocent begging for mercy.” This is absolute chaos. Why do they feel the need to harass me, even after their deaths? How is this even happening? They must have been the unsettling presence I felt last night; what else could it be? So many questions are rummaging through my head, gnawing at my brain like animals.

“You will pay for what you did. On the contrary…we are able to summon another elder brain,” Gortash adds. How I want to respond to his pathetic words, how I want to pin him against a wall and kill him again.

“If our gods are willing to provide the means of this happening,” Ketheric chimes in, his eyes practically staring Gortash down as a means of dominance, which is a foolish idea. They must not realize I’m immortal. If they do, they’re really good at pretending to be completely unaware. What I do know is that they know something I don’t; at least Gortash does. His disturbing and ominous smirk is hinting that he’s hiding some sort of secret from me.

“Oh, poor little baby, too afraid to speak. To cry. To do our bidding or ask questions.” Orin laughs as she speaks, licking her bloody fingers as she gazes hauntingly into my soul with her pale eyes. Gortash closes his eyes.

“We’ll speak again soon.” Those words alone were the most disturbing out of everything he said; what does he mean by that? I know damn well Gortash is keeping something from me, and it’s making me uncomfortable on every level.

My vision is back to normal and I can hear every sound around me now; was time somehow frozen? It appears Gale and Rolan are completely unaware of my temporary absence from reality. The waitress comes back again to take our order, just shortly after I zone back in, but I’m too stunned to speak.

“What would you like to eat, my love?” Gale asks with a kind smile on his face. I order the strawberry cream pancakes, which honestly sounds beyond incredible right now. I look down at Jenevelle, who is lying comfortably in my baby-wearing wrap. She reaches up at me, gazing at me with her sweet, angelic brown eyes as if she’s saying, ‘It will be okay mommy.’

I hate that I saw those three again. I hate that Gortash tried to guilt trip me for not dominating the brain. Why can’t they just stay dead like everyone else who passes away? I want to tell Gale about this, but will he believe me? It all sounds ridiculous when I think it through.

As we finish our breakfast, I hear the door open and, surprise, here comes Karlach and Wyll, who we seem to bump into a lot considering Waterdeep is a relatively large city.

“Rolan? Emmy? GALE?!”

“Karlach, why are you the most surprised to see me?” Gale questions with bewilderment. I stand up and bolt toward them. Karlach greets me with open arms, ready to embrace me with one of her famous hugs, but all I can think about is how anxious I am.

“Karlach! Listen, I need to talk to you. Could you and Wyll drop by later?”

“Sure thing, Em! Wait, what did you do?” I playfully roll my eyes and sit back down at the table. I let everyone chat to catch up, but Gale notices I’m not acting myself; he’s good at that. Damn it.

What pisses me off is that I had so many questions I needed to ask, but I couldn’t and those dead chosen bastards knew it. I’m not going to be playing their preposterous games. I need to let it go, maybe I’m overthinking the entire situation.

[thoughtsofacunt]

July 30, 2023

Recovery from surgery hasn’t been too bad. I have been amazed at all that I can accomplish and having the ability to navigate and find ways to adapt for doing stuff. I am stronger than I give myself credit for most days. The part where I falter and I am weak is mentally when it comes to my body image. I have definitely become softer, weaker, and I feel very much less desired. I want to be taken and ravished, but the last two weeks I don’t feel desired or sexy because it feels like I am not seen as sexy or desirable right now. I know that there is the worry and fear of hurting me while I am healing, and he is working like crazy from sun up to sun down, but I know we both need it. I am thankful that there have been a few moments these past two weeks were I have been able to get him off, and last night when he got home, he came in and just started to manhandle me, but I long for him to make love to me and fuck my brains out. It is not a mystery that I want this. I fear that my outspoken need for this has turned him off in addition to me being crippled. This has been extremely hard. I feel extremely and deeply loved through all of this, and that I am thankful for. For now, I will just stop expressing my need and desire to have sex. I guess I am being too forthcoming and dominant by saying what I need.

[vintagegeekculture]

So, how important was the Lensman series anyway?

The single most important contribution to pop culture the Lensman series ever made was that it is the exact origin of the idea of charging space marines in power armor, an image so powerful that an entire genre of it came just off of that minor detail in the series. Heinlein, author of Starship Troopers, worshipped Doc Smith, and early Heinlein novels were essentially Smith pastiches. Rocket Ship Galileo (1947) was essentially Skylark of Space except with no girls, and Space Cadet (1948) was essentially the first few chapters of Galactic Patrol, before the arrival on the Overlords of Delgon (Lensman with no lens), expanded into a full on novel. Heinlein was a lifelong friend of Doc and Clarissa.

The other thing that Lensman could do was that it could think big, and nobody had ever done that before. Say what you like about Smith, his strengths and limitations as a writer, but he thought big at a time when nobody thought big. Nearly every single interstellar battle was absolutely apocalyptic. His mental power battles in Lensman were essentially Dragon Ball Z, where hundreds of bystanders drop down dead from parried mind bolts. His interstellar armadas were composed of millions of starships. He understood the sheer scale of a truly interstellar civilization in a way nobody else did but Asimov, where, scribbling on the back of a napkin, he figured out that Trantor required 17 agricultural planets to sustain it.

Also, it's kind of known for being the first series to have an interstellar police made of different species. It kind of bothers me that people say Lensman inspired Green Lantern, as there are more differences than similarities, but Broome, Kane and especially Julius Schwartz (a member of First Fandom who attended the first con in 1936) clearly had Lensman on the brain, especially the fact they were ruled by mysterious Guardians of Civilization who were terrifying super-intellects. But the one difference is that the Guardians of GL were never as truly awe-inspiringly cold and frightening as the Guardians of Civilization on Arisia.

Take this case in point, when the blue skinned space pirate Helmuth landed on their forbidden planet:

"Inflated overweeningly by your warped and perverted ideas, by your momentary success in dominating your handful of minions, tied to you by bonds of greed, of passion, and of crime, you come here to wrest from us the secret of the Lens; from us, a race as much abler than yours as we are older--a ratio of millions to one.

"You consider yourself cold, hard, ruthless. Compared to me, you are weak, soft, tender; as helpless as a newborn child. That you may learn and appreciate that fact is one reason why you are living at this present moment. Your lesson will now begin."

Then Helmuth, starkly rigid, unable to move a muscle, felt delicate probes enter his brain.

Though its star has certainly fallen from the lofty perch it previously occupied, in its day, Lensman was one of the unifying, foundational "shared touchstone" books behind early science fiction fandom. In a genre of fiction at the time defined by anthologies, it was a well-defined setting visited again and again with recognizable characters (Kimball Kinnison, Surgeon Lacy, Clarissa, Pilot Henderson, Tregonsee, the dragon-like Worsel), and recognizable technology (ultra-waves, inertialessness, etc), and consistent alien species (Chickladorians, Kalonians, Tomingans, Valerians). It had a characteristic of SF properties that get a strong sense of identification from fans: you could imagine or project yourself into it. There's a reason Star Trek, not the Twilight Zone, is the most emblematic series of 60s science fiction with the more crazy-devoted fandom: we care about recurring casts. Case in point, I've been able to find some Lensman cosplays from the 1940s, like this one:

My all time favorite display of how significant Lensman was to its first fandom was a wedding at Worldcon that was based on Gray Lensman Kimball Kinnison and Clarissa's wedding on Klovia:

You might want to try some Lensman cosplay yourself - especially if you look good in the color gray.

[mandoalorian]

ohh hi!! I love your writing so much! I was thinking about that part where max is making wishes come true... how about reader touching him and telling him that her wish is... you know... ksksksks it would be a great plot for a smut 🥵

Lord of Desire [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT *sex pollen*

Word count: 4.3k

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT; sex pollen (with that comes it being a dub-con too), overstimulation, cock warming, Dom! Reader, Sub! Max, oral (m! and f! receiving), p in v, slight yearning, reader has a crush on Max, happy ending.

Masterlist

You were one of his many assistants. One of his many assistants who were constantly at his beck and call, who would do anything and everything for him. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't have the biggest, fattest crush on Maxwell Lord. And you'd be lying again if it didn't bother you— the way he'd fuck a different assistant every day, without a care in the world. He did it meaninglessly, discarding whatever they wanted so he could get whatever he desired. Because it was always about him. He took charge, he was the boss.

You heard the other assistants gossip on their lunch breaks about their fantasies, sharing and gushing over their private moments between themselves and Maxwell. You preferred not to say anything about your own experiences, instead, you'd stand in the corner and sip on your tea, listening intently. You were someone who enjoyed your own company, who liked to keep yourself to yourself. You were certain the other assistants didn't even know your name.

"He went down on me." Raquel announced one morning, emptying a packet of sweetener into her latte. Your eyes widened slightly, although you kept them down, not wanting to illustrate any emotion to your colleagues. Deep down, you couldn't help but feel the pot of jealousy begin to stir up in the pit of your stomach. Why— why did all the other assistants have these wild stories about Max and all you could talk about was the way he'd bend you over his desk and fuck you with no remorse? You'd dreamt about it, you'd imagine the way his tongue might lick through your folds, his perfect nose nudging against the bud of your clit. They talked about it like they were competing with each other. Some were even delusional enough to think that Maxwell actually loved them back. You swallowed away your jealousy, held your head up high and for the first time— you said something.

"Liar." the single word dripped with envy and you hated the way it rolled off your tongue. The three assistants, including Raquel, snapped their heads up to stare at you. Raquel's glare was furious.

"Excuse me?" she asked, both her eyebrows raised incredulously.

"Mr Lord doesn't go down on anyone." you fired back. It was true. You knew him— you'd worked for him for the longest time. You knew he wouldn't do that. But if you were so certain that she was lying, why did you feel so jealous? If he was going to go down on anyone, it should've been you.

You didn't care to hear whatever Raquel had to say. You had to go see Max— pay him a little visit— find out the truth. You were finally going to confront him. You were fueled with jealousy and your rage was a blinding light as you stormed through Black Gold Cooperative, earning a few curious glances as your heels clicked against the marble floor. You wrapped both your hands around the two door handles that led into Maxwell's office, and pushed them open without even a knock. Maxwell, who was knee deep in paperwork, quickly looked up at you as you barged over to his desk, hand on hip. He swallowed nervously, dropping his gold embellished pen and offering you a polite smile.

"Not like you to just storm in here without knocking," Maxwell smirked, an eyebrow quirked at your sudden change in behaviour. "You've worked here long enough to know the rules," You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. But before you could reply, Maxwell opened his mouth again. "But I'm glad you're here." he revealed, looking at you with those big, chocolate brown eyes. "Come, sit." he pointed at the empty chair that was opposite him.

You found yourself softening at the sentiment. He never, ever would say things like that. He'd never offer compliments or be genuine. Everything about his nature was cold and distant, but in those five words, his tone was sweet like honey. In a way, it brought you comfort. That completely through you off course. You sunk into the plush leather chair and began to nervously fumble with your fingers as he leaned over his messy desk, propping his elbows against the expensive oak wood. "I've discovered something amazing," he said breathlessly. "Something that can change the world."

You blinked. "What is it?" you hated the way your voice sounded small and timid. That's not the type of person you wanted to be in front of him, but it was always the type of person he made you out to be. With you, he would always exert his power— his dominance. When he fucked you, he'd whisper murmurs of praise in your ear. He wouldn't let you touch him, kiss him, he'd show no affection. He'd pin your hands together and take you from behind— and you'd let him with no question about it. Just for once, you wanted to explore a different side to Max, a side where you could be in control.

"Take my hands," he held his hands out and you cautiously looked down, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. You took in the image of his thick, ring clad fingers and already felt your panties begin to dampen with arousal. Max curled his fingers, encouraging you to take his hands rather than just stare at them indefinitely. You caved, finally resting your palms flat in his. He interlocked his fingers in yours, his grip tight but firm. You could feel the coolness of his solid gold rings against your soft skin. "Make a wish."

You blinked again, this time completely dumbfounded. Make a wish? Had he finally lost it? His whole mantra was ‘if you want it you can have it’ — or something like that. But this whole wish thing? This was new.

"I don't-" you bit your lip, glancing from your hands to his face. His eyes were set heavy into you though, boring into your face and taking in every feature of yours that he admired so much. "I don't know what you mean." you sighed eventually, wanting to pull away from your boss. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

"What do you wish for?" Maxwell rephrased, flashing you that same smile he displayed so much for the world to indulge in on television. You hated it. It wasn't real. It wasn't him. You'd seen his real smile when he'd occasionally laugh at one of your jokes, or when he'd spy on you from the corner of his office as you played with Alistair. The small, toothy grin and his little dimple that would appear in his left cheek. Just for once, you wished he'd show you that beautiful smile of his to your face.

No, that wasn't it. You wished for more. You wished for every single dream, every single fantasy you had about him to come true. Could this be your opportunity to reveal all your pent up feelings and jealousy? Maxwell waited patiently, practically seeing the mental cogs turn in your brain as you thought this through. You rubbed your thighs together as your slick had seeped through the thin lace material of your panties.

He had taken everything from you. Now it was finally your turn to take something back.

"I wish," you started and watched as Maxwell closed his eyes. The fact he wasn't looking at you was about to make this so much easier. You were just going to say it. You could do this. "I wish… I wish that just for once, you'd let me fuck you. You'd let me take control. You'd beg and plead for me, be a good boy and do everything I ask of you. And you'll take it," you smile to yourself at the mere thought. "And most importantly, I wish that while we do this, you would just pretend to love me. Pretend to care about me," you felt your eyes sting from the tears you didn't realise had been penting up. That was what it all boiled down to— the helpless crush you'd had on your boss for the past three years. "Please." you finally huffed out.

Maxwell's eyes shot open as a gust of wind blew through the room, knocking the stacks of paper from his desk and breezing through your hair. When you finally looked back at Max, his eyebrows were furrowed together in bewilderment. He looked around his office, slightly dazed, and when he finally looked back at you, you noticed his eyes had darkened considerably. They were almost black with desire.

"Wh- where did that wind come from?" you asked, pulling your hands away from his and quizzically looking around the room. Not a window was open, the fan wasn't on…

Maxwell looked down where, already, his erection was strained against his tailored suit pants. "Holy shit," Maxwell muttered. "It worked. It actually worked." Max dropped his hand to his crotch and began to palm himself through the material, his fingers tracing the outline of his cock. He was painfully hard, trying to ignore the desperation which urged him to get off right then and there.

You gulped, standing up. "I'm sorry Mr Lord," you shook your head feeling embarrassed. You didn't know what had just happened— if your boss had played some kind of sick prank on you, but you weren't willing to stay and find out. "I- I best get back to work."

"No!" Maxwell choked out, rising to his feet and slamming his fists on the desk. The noise was enough to make you jump. "Please," he whispered. "Lock the door and...stay."

You blinked momentarily as you took in his instruction. You'd never heard him speak to you like that before. You slowly stalked over to the double doors, flicked the lock in place before turning back around to face your boss. His hair had fallen slightly out of place, dark blonde strands tousled over his forehead.

As you got closer, you noticed the pearls of sweat that beaded his hairline and the way his eyes became glazed with lust. He swallowed, not saying a word. He just started at you, his gaze following your every movement.

"Mr Lord?" you asked hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

Maxwell's lips parted slightly. "I…" you caught a blush creep upon his cheeks as you walked around his desk. Your eyes widened when you saw the thick outline of his cock pressed against his light grey pants. There was already a small damp patch from his precum.

"Jesus," you whispered. "What- what just happened?"

"K-kiss me," Maxwell pleaded. This was so strange— Max would never plead. He'd never beg, and he'd certainly never ask for you to kiss him. Was he toying with you? But how did he get hard so quick? So many questions. "P-please, I've been a good boy." Your eyes widened at the use of the words 'good boy'— the exact words you had used when he'd asked you for your wish. You stood there, perplexed as Maxwell let out another groan, hastily reaching down to undo his zipper.

"Wait!" you called out, stopping him. You looked over to the unoccupied leather sofa in the corner of his office that was draped in a furry, animal print blanket. "Let's go over here."

Maxwell nodded, shakily standing up and following you over to the sofa. "If… if I lay here will you-" you paused, shaking your head. "I'm going to lay here," you rephrase. "And I want you to fuck me with your tongue."

Maxwell gasped, already licking his lips greedily and nodding his head with excitement.

You kicked off your heels and pulled your skirt down, along with your lace panties, throwing them to one side. "Can I take my pants off?" Max groaned, his fingers grazing the clips of his suspenders as you unbuttoned your blouse.

"No," you shook your head, wanting to deprive him. He'd get the satisfaction he craved eventually, but now it was all about you. "You can take your jacket off though." you shrugged and as if by magic, he shrugged out of his designer suit jacket and let it fall to the floor amongst your clothes.

You sat on the sofa and opened your legs, beckoning Maxwell to come over with your fingers. He slowly stalked over to you, his gaze not tearing from your perfect form once, and he kneeled down in between your legs. "You're so pretty," he whispered, trailing soft and affectionate kisses along the softness of your inner thighs. You moaned, feeling the plumpness of his soft lips and the small trail of saliva as he gently licked and nibbled at the skin. You moaned wantonly, already feeling your toes curl as his face drew closer to your weeping cunt. "Always wanted to do this," Maxwell revealed. "You have the prettiest pussy in the whole fucking office, always wanted to taste."

Max licked a stripe between your folds, his low grumbles vibrating straight through your core. "Agh," you closed your eyes as he licked another stripe. The room began to fill with lewd wet noises, and you felt your cheeks heat up as he lapped at you. "Why- why didn't you taste me sooner?" you asked, genuinely wanting to know an answer.

Maxwell sucked on your clit, holding it between his teeth as he swirled his tongue against your bud in perfect little circles. He pulled off with a pop and a groan, and you managed to get a glance of your juices and how they coated his face, glistening under the amber, artificial lighting. "Afraid," Maxwell groaned, swiping his tongue over his lip and tasting what you had left on him. "Afraid of feeling powerless and not in control. I want you- I wanted you to think of me as someone who makes rules, not follows them."

"But sometimes it's nice to lose control, just a little bit. Let go of your inhibitions…" you smiled, reaching down and letting your hand tangle in his hair. Maxwell mumbled something incoherent before reattaching his lips to your pussy. "F-fuck Max, see? This- this is good, you're so good. Shit." you praised, and it only stirred Maxwell on even more. His cock was throbbing in his pants, it ached for some kind of release. Maxwell pressed the digit of his index finger along the entrance to your hole, teasingly rubbing it as his tongue flicked over your bundle of nerves. "O-oh, you want to finger me?" you chuckle, and feel Maxwell nod against your cunt. "Okay." you grant, and his thick finger immediately presses into you, as he pushes the full way in. As he pumps his finger in and out of you, you find yourself shaking, muttering soft words of praise at him for being so obedient. He curls his finger perfectly so it hits that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust, and his tongue doesn't stray away from you for one moment. He loves the way your walls tighten around his finger and he imagines it was his dick instead— the mere thought making his manhood jump with excitement in his pants. His kitten licks grow more intense as he pulls you towards your first orgasm, your thighs involuntarily shaking around his head as you cum on his tongue. He removes his finger as your climax washes over you, and stares at your cunt with admiration, watching it clench around nothing.

You find yourself heaving and panting as your high washes over you, trying to process everything that just happened. "I've never done that with an employee before," Max revealed, shakily raising to his feet again. You can't contain your smile, knowing that Raquel had been lying earlier. "You tasted just as good as I imagined. So sweet, like fucking candy."

You shuffle upwards to sit up, noticing your wetness on the leather sofa. "When we're finished," you breathe. "I want you to clean up all the mess. Not the cleaners, I want to watch you do it. Okay?" Maxwell nodded obediently and your lips curved into a smile. There was something so satisfying at the thought of a big name CEO like Maxwell Lord clean up after himself. Even more satisfying knowing that he'd be cleaning your cum from the sofa his business associates will be sitting on in just a few hours.

"We're not done?" Max asked, his eyes lit up with hope. You pouted, shaking your head as you crawled over to him. On your knees, you reached up and unclipped his suspenders from the top of his pants, pulling them down his arms and letting the straps fall by his sides.

"No baby," you purred, taking your time to palm his cock over the material of his pants. "See, I could just leave you high and dry, you could've just been my quick fix. Because that's how you see me, isn't it?" you tilted your head and Maxwell frowned, looking away from you with shame. Your fingers found his silver zipper and you slowly pulled it down. "But I'm not like you," you whispered, finally pulling his pants down and freeing his aching cock. You tsked, shaking your head. "Not even wearing boxers. That's naughty of you…"

"W- will you punish me?" Maxwell asked, his puppy dog eyes glistening with desire.

You didn't reply with words, but instead, simply offered him a hum as you wrapped his fingers around his cock. Your eyes widened in surprise at his reaction to your mere touch as he let out a wanton groan and tossed his head back in delight. You spat in your hands and slowly began to pump his long, thick length with one hand. You bring your other hand down to his balls and cup them, rubbing your thumb along the curves as you feel them tighten as you jerk him off.

"C-can you- f-fuck-" Maxwell squeezed his eyes shut as you increased speed.

"What is it baby?" you ask softly. "Struggling to get out your words? Tell me, what do you want? I'm feeling generous."

"Y-your lips, please, your lips around my-my-" Maxwell chokes back a moan as you wrap your mouth along the head of his cock, sucking his tip playfully, your tongue flicking along the small slit that was beaded with precum. You moan as you taste his familiar saltiness. As you continue to suck at his head, you let your fingers grace the column of his cock, rolling your digits softly over his ridges and veins as your pussy twitched at the thought of feeling them inside you. You were desperate to feel him fill you. You were desperate to take full control. But right now, you were too drunk on the idea of overstimulating your boss. Give him a time he'll never, ever forget.

Once you're certain you've milked him of all his precum, you take his full length, gagging slightly as his head pushes against the back of your throat. He's so thick that your jaw aches as he stretches your mouth wide open, a trail of your saliva dripping down your chin. You bobbed your head up and down, thriving on the way he moans your name and strings out low, sleuthy curses of affirmation.

"Can I cum?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Your cunt quivers at the way he asks you for permission. Now you understand why he loves taking control. "I'm close- I'm gonna cum." Max groaned and you began to feel his cock involuntarily twitch in your mouth. You quickly double back, pulling off him and looking up at him with beady eyes. "N-no!" Maxwell gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"Problem?" you asked with a smirk. "Oh baby… you wanted to cum in my mouth?" you frown apologetically. Maxwell nods his head and you take in the way his tears are pricking his pretty brown eyes. He's a mess and he's your mess. "I know somewhere better you can cum." you coo, rising to your feet and pressing a soft kiss into his jaw. "Sit." you command, pointing to the same spot you made yourself comfortable in on the sofa.

Maxwell obeyed, walking over with hunched shoulders holding his cock in one hand as he slowly touched himself. You looked at him with complete desire. You knew how wet you were, but you had never seen him so hard before— you were actually wondering if you'd be able to take him.

You wrap your legs around him, straddling him, and slowly sink on his aching cock. A long, strained moan escaped Maxwell's lips as you pushed yourself all the way down, gasping as he filled you completely. Max half expected you to start riding him, he wished you'd just bounce up and down and milk him for all he had— but of course, you didn't. You stayed seated on him, warming his cock as you adjusted yourself. You began to slowly unbutton his work shirt, pulling it off him and throwing it to the floor. You pressed your hands against his chest as you shimmy even deeper, this time his balls are pressed against the curve of your ass. "Feels so good." you whisper.

"M-move." Maxwell groaned, his eyes tight shut.

"Did you just tell me what to do?" you quizzed and Maxwell quickly shook his head.

"N-no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it…" Maxwell replied in a quick fluster. "I just….fuck…"

"You're just so desperate to cum, aren't you?" you sighed, smoothing out his dark blonde hair.

"Y-yes." he answered.

You reached down to your clit and began to rub circles, getting yourself off as you sit on his cock. "So here's what's going to happen, I'm gonna cum on your cock and you're going to take it like a good boy. You're gonna feel my pussy clench around you— and you're not— you're not fucking allowed to cum, okay? You're going to take it."

Maxwell tossed his head back, and rested his hands on your hips as he watched you play with yourself, full of his cock. It stirred him on as he gazed at the pretty sight that was before him. You were so good, you had him completely wrapped around your finger. It wasn't long until your walls were tightening around Max, and his perfectly manicured finger

-tips dug into your back.

"You're so beautiful when you cum," Max murmured and you smiled as you let yourself unravel around him. "Fuck, you feel so good. You always feel so good. The- the best,"

"Shit," you moaned. "Wanna cum pretty boy?" you asked with a wicked grin. Max nodded desperately and you adjusted your position, laying back down on the sofa. You whimpered at the loss when his cock slipped out of you, but he was quick to thrust back into when you gave him the command. "Fuck me until you cum then."

The words alone almost made Maxwell explode. You wrapped your legs around his body as he pushed his whole length deep inside you, quickly picking up the fast and brutal pace you were used to. He didn't last long though, and you weren't surprised considering you had edged him this long already. His cum splayed inside of you, painting your walls as he grunted and groaned on top of you, his arms shaking as he tried to stop himself from collapsing on you.

"Fuck," Maxwell gasped, trying to catch his breath. He felt himself soften inside of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. He was cherishing the moment and savouring the feeling. He missed your pretty pussy so much. He wanted to live in this moment forever. As his climax washed over him, he felt the magic of the wish leave his body too. You were a heaving, panting mess but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Max leaned into you, pressing a brisk and gentle kiss on your forehead, down to your nose, and then against your lips. "I love you," he admitted, whispering against your mouth. You felt your breathing catch in your throat at the revelation. "I loved you from the moment I met you. But I- just… was scared."

For a second you thought it was just the wish that was making him come out with these things— but the moment he revealed that he was scared, you knew for sure Max's words were coming from his heart.

"Scared of what?" you asked quietly, still drunk in post-coital haze. You drew lazy circles into his bicep as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his neck. He was so warm, the smell of his expensive cologne filled the room, it was intoxicating.

"I don't know…" he mumbled. "Disappointing you?"

"Oh Maxie," you whispered, pulling him in for another kiss. "You could never disappoint me. I love you too."

Maxwell smiled, his eyes glazed with unshed tears. "I've always dreamed of the day I can show you off… call you mine."

"So let's start from today," you told him, dropping your hand to his and holding it gently.

"Wait, you'll be my girlfriend?" Maxwell asked hopefully.

You nodded with a smile and he kissed you once more, passionately and filled with affection. You could really get used to this.

Taglists — (let me know if you wish to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya

Maxwell Lord: @mrschiltoncat

This fic: @lizzowinkyface @dindjarinswhore

[remsmoonlight]

— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

                    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open !   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

“ What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

[missallsundayyy]

"You're just saying that"

ANOTHER LAWBIN DUMP BECAUSE I SHIP THEM LIKE A MAD WOMAN ITS INSANE! here is just Law being a simp for our fave straw hat archeologist, Nico Robin <3

“You’re beautiful”

“You’re just saying that”

“No Im not”

Law crawled towards Robin who was fully naked and tangled in between the sheets and smiled at her. He had a goddess on his bed and today was the last day she was going to be on his ship before she had to return to the strawhats. His head bowed and his lips connected to her long slender soft legs, he peppered kisses in a straight line and went towards her thick thighs. “You’re going back to your ship tomorrow Robin-ya” he muttered in between kisses. Robin had her head thrown back against the soft pillows with a contented sigh “Yes i do”

When it comes to pleasure build-up, there was no one better than Trafalgar Law, he made her horny beyond words and he could go for hours and hours just making sure that she was satisfied and pleasured magically. Since he was a doctor, on god he knew where all the good spots were and fuck did he rub, kiss, touch and reach all these area well. All her weak spots were mentally printed in his brain and he touched her so well because he knew her body like the back of his hand.

Law didn’t just wanted to please the historian but he worshipped the fuck out of Robin’s body. She was the definition of beauty and his ideal woman. Her hourglass figure, her large bust, her porcelain skin, her long luscious raven hair, her waist that was meant for his hands, her scent when she was turned on...oh how fucking addictive she was. He could go down on her for hours craving for more and more even when the historian was sore but no he could never get enough of her. “You make me so hard Robin-ya, you look so fucking absolutely mouth watering.” he grunt out licking her soft thick thighs in long strokes. His hands were already parting her legs wide, giving the sight he’s been craving to see. She was already dripping wet for him.

“La..law-kun...please…” Robin moaned softly, her hands reached out for his head and gripping his hair ushering his face forward to her wet core. He smirked and licked her pussy with one long and teasingly slow stroke. Her head dived deeper onto the pillow at the contact even though it was minimal. “You’re already looking so fucked out my love, did i keep you waiting that long?” He teased her by bringing one digit and plunging it into her hole without warning and going at a rough pace.

“A..ahh!” she moaned and fisted his hair roughly. Law was unrelenting; he added the second...third...and fourth digits into her wet hole that was gladly accepting his intrusion. He fucked her with his fingers hard and fast never stopping to let her adjust or catch her breath. He pulled out JUST for a second much to her dismay, her blue orbs adjusted its vision to see what her lover was doing, and his actions made her whine in lust, this man was so sexy. The feral demeanor he had and the way he was enjoying pleasuring her turned her on to the point she could feel more juices dripping out from her cunt. “Fuck.., you’re dripping onto my bedsheet and soaking it baby” he groaned and admired how wet she was for him. Law gathered his saliva in his mouth and spit it directly onto her soaking cunt “Let me make it even wetter Robin-ya” he said. He shifted his position so fast that even she didn’t see this coming, he plunged his hard cock into her with no warning again. “Ohhh my god!” Robin screamed, he filled her up so good and there was no way in hell she was going to feel this type of way with anyone else. Law was not only long but his cock was so very very big and the first time they ever did this, she was taken aback like taken aback would have been an understatement.

“Gomen I cant control my...oh fuckkk you’re so tight R-robin-ya.” Law grunted aloud, he didn’t go slow nor did he held back this time, he was going to fuck her hard and long and make sure she felt him for weeks and months until they had the opportunity to meet again. He was going to wear her out and that's exactly what he was now doing.

“La...law..please..more! I-its so so so so gooood! Ahhh ah ah” whatever words she could muster out was no incoherent, she couldn't even form any proper sentence with how good he was fucking her. His length was impressive, it hit deep and reached everything that she couldn't satisfy herself and the width...mmm she worships this man’s cock. How good his dick was and how amazing the person was as well. “C’mon use your words my love, i’m going to miss you so much and i- ergh fuck!” his hands had a tight hold on her legs, spreading as wide as he could while he fuck her into oblivion. Her large breast was now being kneaded by her hands trying to maximize her pleasure even more.

“You’re so..ahhh fucking hell….sexy. Look at you right now, i could fuck you for hours and prolong this as long as I could my love” he looked down at their connection, what an erotic sight and sound. She was squelching around him and her pussy wasn’t even trying to milk him with everything he got, their juices were mixed and was dripping out of her wet hole and cum was splashed everywhere on his sheets. Oh how he would love nothing more than to capture this image and frame it in his cabin room.

His cock went in and out of hole at a vicious pace, never giving Robin a chance at catching her breath. Everything that came out from her mouth was vulgar and sinful and only her moans and his grunts echoed throughout the bedroom. “Fuck fuck fuck you feel so good around me, gripping my cock like that...so tight like- ahhh…” he brought himself down to her chest and buried his head into her giant globes and grunt out in pleasure of her soft skin and the way her pussy was sucking his cock in.

Robin had one hand gripping his sheets and one hand clawing his back trying to hold onto him to be in sync in his monstrous pace all while he was comfortably sandwiched in between the valley of her breasts. He brought his face back up and tongued her nipples that were basically calling out for his mouth, his large hands palmed the right side of her breast while he was basically making out with the other side.

“La..law….kun...ahhh its too much...im g-gonna… ah ah ahhhh..” she screamed and clawed his back drawing blood, the pleasure he was bestowing upon her has become overwhelming. Law ceased all his actions and brought one hand and took both her arms, pinning them above her head and his other hand found her throat and gripped at it hard; now this was how he could get Robin to cum so hard because this has always been her kink, almost cutting off her oxygen intake brought her euphoric pleasure. “You cum only when I say you can love, are you forgetting that?” Law whispered in her ears, giving her a long teasing lick at her lobes.

Robin whined at the loss of his movements, his cock was still yet buried so deep in her hole and she was rocking back and forth trying to get some friction but his body weight kept her in check and she knew better in strength that she could never outmatch his strength especially in bed. “La..w….please please please please...ne-need to cu..cum!” she begged him desperately, her eyes were half lidded and both corners of her eyes were filled with tears of pleasure and desperation.  He brought his face down to hers and their forehead rested against each other and he locked eyes with hers, souls intertwined and orbs connected and both of them read each other like an open book.

“You look so beautiful baby, you look so good like this…” he whispered to her, face evident with pure lust and adoration. He loved this woman and he fucking knew it, there was nobody he wanted to share such passion and connection with. He wanted to pleasure her to the point of no return, making her the happiest woman alive and he relishes in her existence. “You're gonna cum so good I promise you baby” he grunt out. With that he resumed his thrust but it was even more powerful, dominant and oh so impressive. He pounded her hard and fast fucking her stupid and passionately, he gave his 1000 percent when he do her and right now he was treating her hole unforgivingly and no mercy and she was definitely going to feel him inside her everyday. He printed and branded his cock in her pussy and there will be no other man that could be compared. She whined and moaned hotly, tongue sticking out with a string of drool at the corner of her mouth, the bed shook with the rhythm of their fuck pace. The atmosphere was hot, the air was bathed in redolence of sex and passion. Sounds of his dick going in and out of her wet hole immited sloppy wet sounds that was the focus of their hearing and the unison of their sinful moans. His grip on her throat tightened and he moaned out loud at the sight and took her mouth in his and gave her an open kiss, it was sloppy and hot, their tongues fought each other and both of them were moaning in each other’s mouth.

“Cmon, cum now baby, i can feel you squeezing me so hard, you’re so good for me”

“Law...law! Law! I ahh...ahh im go..gonn! gonna cum”

“Cum for me my love” he’s raspy voice commanded her and if she was grenade, his voice was the trigger. She was sent over the edge and everything in her felt awakened and she exploded with a scream. With his hands on her neck her voice was semi blocked but this kind of orgasm remains unmatched. Robin heard Law muttering strings of curses and swears at her orgasm, she tightened and her insides was trying to milk the fuck out of his cock.

She was sent over the edge and everything in her was awakened and she exploded with a scream. With his hands on her neck her voice was semi blocked but this kinky action always had her fucked out. She saw stars and her body was instantly taken into another universe. Her legs tightened around him and were now trembling, her body still rocking with his  rampaging thrusts both rocking to the rhythm of her high.

“F-ff--fucking hell.” He grunt against her collar bones.

“La--law…” Robin whimpered softly, ���Do it in me...please...i want you to cum in me and fill me up please please ple-- AHHH!” He didn’t need to be told twice, her filthy words spurred him on more and she swore he felt him getting harder.

“Fuck i- gonn...a fill you in so good..” he groaned and she captured his mouth with her open ones and their moans and grunts were drowned in the messy and sloppy wet kiss.

“Mmhmm!” Strings and strings of his load was pumping into her hole as he came the moment Robin kissed him with so much need and to simplify it….she was so fucking sexy and was the hottest woman in this god damn planet; he thought.

“Sss--so full!” she whimpered in his mouth.

Her facial expression drove him crazy, she was in a state of bliss and she was on cloud 9, only he could do her like this.

Both of them rode each other, absorbed in their high and lived for each others’ touch.

TIMESKIP

Law tossed the towel that he had used to clean Robin up into the laundry basket in his bathroom and came out to the sight of his goddess laying down peacefully. She was now looking at Law who only had a towel hugging his lower regions and she smiled, admiring his body. He was so handsome, his body was lean with the right muscles everywhere.

“You’re so handsome”

“You’re just saying that”

“No I’m not” he laughed, they were having the same conversation before their love making. He loves her. Trafalgar Law loves Nico Robin so damned much.

THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE AND READING MY FIC. DO LIKE AND REBLOG, ask me if there is anything you guys want me to write! I'm currently working on more LAWBIN. I know I've been writing them like crazy but that's because the internet doesn't have enough Lawbin and idc I will write till i'm satiated.

[killerbananas]

Hey guys! Little update rant novella. Mind the tags, please, and do not reblog.

Thank you to everyone that has contacted me. You're all gems. I genuinely want the best for you and hope the world is being kind to you.

tl;dr: I had another post explaining my issues, but in short, my neuralgia in my median nerve is extremely irritated right now. In combination with a few other health issues, including a longer lack of balanced nutrition and exercise, hormonal imbalance (I have extremely low progesterone), high resting heart rate and blood pressure, and extremely poor mental health (depression, brain fog/executive dysfunction, mood SWINGS, recurrence of maladaptive coping mechanisms), possible cancer on the bottom of my foot, I am a goddamn mess. Doctors are fallible, we all deserve respect and proper care, and I'm still keepin' on keepin' on.

I was hopeful recently of a medical professional that was locally known to treat my kind of issues with high consideration and thought things were going to be at least underway into being addressed. Well, I got Into it with their staff because they had continuously fucked me over in ways that I find no longer acceptable to continue a relationship with the office, good doctor or not. I have been gaslit, ignored for follow-up, charged incorrectly after being led to believe that I would qualify for their particular program, given multiple run-arounds. I am done. I walked in on Thursday morning, in absolute agony and with barely 90 minutes of sleep because my neuralgia was so bad. If you are familiar with it, you know what I mean. The only thing that really helps neuralgia for me is rest, ice, NSAIDS that only reduce inflammation (not pain), and extremely gentle touch massage (like barely tapping the skin), otherwise, it truly feels like acid or burning along almost the entirety of my dominant arm. Here’s a (tw for exposed muscle tissue/anatomical image) medical picture of the median nerve. I had it for 18+ hours leading up to this appointment with them. The appointment was for a general blood work follow-up and I planned to ask about treating my neuralgia (e.g., gabapentin, therapy) because this evaluation would be reasonably within their capabilities.

Well, in combination with all those other issues I listed, it’s pretty understandable that I would get a bit weepy when put under basically any amount of stress. I do my best to be cognizant of my defense mechanisms (e.g., knee-jerk defensive anger) and still tried to have as much neutral goddamn dignity to the cunts’ faces while they told me I also needed to pay $150 to get my blood work results (which was the incorrect price, for the incorrect appointment I was scheduled for) and that in tandem with information that kept changing in the thirty minutes I spent in the front office instead of seeing my fucking dr. Don’t get me wrong; I am willing to be understanding in a time of short staff, genuine accidents, and issues that can be out of someone’s hands. I can be reasoned with if your logical explanation checks out and apologize for my mistakes like a big girl, but here, this was some horseshit.

When I reverbalized the logic of what they told me (“Ok. So, if I am understanding you correctly, you are telling me that in order to receive a copy of my blood work, I must pay you $150. I do not have the right to receive my bloodwork results that I have already paid $300 for at the lab? That does not make logical sense to me.”) HIPPA says fuck you, bud. You cannot do that. I have a right to my medical records within thirty days of written request and only with a “limited fee” at most (e.g., paying for printing paper, relevant and legal minutiae of labor cost [see link below for more]). Well, they decided to handle me with kid gloves and get my out of their hair if I wasn’t going to pay them, with a broken-promise that the “nurse” that would be “authorized” to give me permission to allow me access to my records because of their business structure would call me in a six-hour block that same day. I’ve heard a lot about this nurse, but she seems to be a bit allergic to dialing my fucking number as this isn’t the first missed communication. I still have not received a call from them.

However, I did sob in my car for ten minutes once I realized how futile the situation was, have my wonderful partner help me google HIPPA and make sure I wasn’t full of shit on the phone for twenty minutes, and walked my ass two doors down to the lab that took my blood and received my records printed out with absolute full respect to my request when I asked politely. I could’ve kissed the lab attendant. I will not be going back to this doctor and will do everything in my power to relay my experience to anyone opting to engage with that office. Others had given me glowing recommendations from this place. This isn't my first experience being gaslit or treated poorly by a medical "professional" either.

I have actionable things to follow-up on with my own health, which is my primary concern or I will have long-term damage that will be harder to fix. I can do this. I can find another doctor for my hormones. I have an appointment in less than two-weeks with a dermatologist. Wish me luck here because I just have no idea about this spot on my foot and I am at-risk by my genes having all the predispositional goodies for this, as well as living in the sun most of my life, even with sunscreen.

Please remember to keep up with your own health if it is within your power to do so. If it is not, please ask someone for help. If that person fails you, doctor or friend, do not give up. Someone better is out there and you will find them. Doctors are not infallible and they are not GOD either. You are paying for a service at the end of the day, be it out-of-pocket, insurance, or in your taxes. Don’t take their bullshit and know your rights, I beg you. You deserve a healthy life and you should not have to struggle with a system to do so.

Here is a HIPPA reference if you would like it for your own use. Of course, I am not a doctor, just one little pissed off woman ready to wreck any medical professional that thinks it’s ok to fucking gaslight me in front of my face. I get a strong enough red-flag, I’m going to stop the conversation immediately, do my best to objectively say that this action is not acceptable to my professional relationship with a healthcare provider, and never fucking come back. Additionally, if anyone is well-versed in HIPPA application, or finds an error in my logic understanding this extensive legal text, please let me know as I would like the opportunity to correct my error. I’m going to be tossing the full legal text into a study pile for this year to keep revisiting.

HIPPA: https://www.hhs.gov/hipaa/for-professionals/privacy/guidance/access/index.html

If any of this information is incorrect, I will follow-up with an edit. Sorry if it's not sensible in any manner, but I am just working in the negative lately and thought this would be a bit therapeutic for myself as well as keep a few people updated that have been reaching out.

[jangmi-latte]

May i request headcanons for all dorm leaders reacting to a drunk s/o. Thank you!

❞ 𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐲? 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤? 𝐎𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝?  ❝

➻ content: four doughnuts!

➻ warnings: slightly nsfw on leona’s part!! mentions of alcohol!

➻ comments: since i haven’t tweaked my rules *wink* just yet, i’ve made coco use the cafe’s wheel to pick four dorm leaders for this request! hope you don’t mind! also, i don’t and haven’t drunk alcohol — ma'am this is a cafe —, therefore i did as much research (also known as making my waiters drunk) as i can when it comes to being drunk. cough also from seeing my relatives and friends go drunk cough.

Ⅰ.

༄ kalim is from a wealthy family so it’s no surprise he’s exposed to alcohol, mostly wine but kalim – being as he is still under age – doesn’t really like drinking.

༄ what he didn’t expect was for someone to sneak alcohol into one of his banquets unnoticed. even jamil didn’t notice due to his hectic schedule.

༄ sam, what have you been selling in your shop–

༄ it was a clear liquid. having nearly the same viscosity as water, you were unaware of how much you were drinking. let’s say you’re unaware of what alcohol tastes like. sure, it tastes weird but oh boy, the heat that spread out through your neck and body was quite addictive. the way it tickles your tongue makes you giggle at times.

༄ this is some odd kind of water huh, just what else does the land of hot sands have?

༄ as it was your first time drinking, it wasn’t a surprise to see you get drunk after three glasses. apparently, it was white wine. is kalim familiar with this kind of alcohol? yes. but he doesn’t know it was being served.

༄  kalim started to notice your sudden change in demeanour when you started to giggle a lot. you would suddenly cling on his arm or nuzzle your nose against his neck. 

༄  kalim's delighted by your affection, oblivious to the fact you're drunk as fuck and will continue to giggle out of nowhere.

༄ if jamil pointed out your sudden change of attitude, kalim would go “oooohhh” and just laugh along with you.

༄ now jamil would question if kalim’s drunk too.

༄ if your laughing would go out of control, ah, our little sunshine would try to stop you and drag you away. you’re light and you’re not struggling so he could easily drag you away from the banquet and into a spare room that’s next to his.

༄ if you woke up with a hangover the next day, kalim is immediately by your side while also asking help from jamil to tend to you. 

༄ you can not get away from his stories and it would make you extremely embarrassed that you suddenly turned into a maniac during one of his parties. did anyone take a video? who knows. 

༄ you now hereby made a mental note not to drink alcohol ever again. just wait till you go to kalim’s hometown where there’s A LOT of alcohol to drink. you can’t avoid it but hey at least you know how you act when you’re drunk.

༄ kalim won’t be talkative about what happened but can you guarantee it won’t slip from his lips every now and then every time a banquet is brought up to a conversation?

Ⅱ.

༄ okay, let’s give more attention to leona’s homeland, yeah?

༄ so there’s a party. it’s not dedicated to anyone, perhaps it’s an event or an occasion for the land. the royal household mostly consists of adults, it’s pretty self-explanatory that there will be alcohol.

༄ leona is used to the taste of alcohol. he isn’t exactly an active drinker but his tolerance is high. it would take him how many glasses before he’s drunk. there are different types of alcohols on the table. ranging from beer to whiskey. heck, there’s even absinthe.

༄ he chose to drink the safest alcohol served and that was a martini. since leona doesn’t want to interact with anyone – his brother is loud and catching most of the attention anyways – he just sat at the sides. he couldn’t really sleep with how loud his home was.

༄ what caught his emerald eyes was you. Oh man, was he surprised. you were easily drinking shots and shots of vodka without any trouble. sure he has seen you drink before but seeing you be this energetic and even rather frisky was….quite a turn on.

༄ though he is quite worried, he would love to see what happens when you get drunk. he thought you would just drop and fall asleep on the table.

༄ hell no.

༄ the moment you spotted him with half-lidded eyes, you sauntered over to him with a shot in had and sat on his lap. was he bothered? not in the slightest but he would glare at some men who would stare at you being all wanton on him.

༄ his first instinct? protect you. sure, you’re tipsy or drunk but that doesn’t mean leona would take this as an advantage and just have sex with you despite your seductive advances. he doesn’t mind you being all sexy on him but you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s his turn to pull the responsible card in the relationship.

༄ your consent is very important to him and drunk isn’t consenting.

༄ another thing, he wants you to just put a show for him ONLY, not in public. he’s possessive but your body is for his eyes only. 

༄, when you pressed your lips against his, leona would kiss you back for a brief second before pulling away once he noticed your sultry touches. you’re whining but this is leona’s chance to carry you to his room. both your drinks left downstairs while he just cuddles you to bed. 

༄ he’ll stop any of your persuasive actions since he could see you’re eyes drooping. he can make love to you some other time. sober you is better. if you won’t stop, ah leona would just passionately kiss you ‘til you eventually passed out.

༄ but that wouldn’t stop any future teasing from him. he’s not gonna lie, it was sexy to see you try and dominate him but again, be sober. 

Ⅲ.

༄ like leona, vil is not an exception to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang. being a  popular influencer/model/artist means being invited to gatherings or after production dinners.

༄ he had a couple drinks here and there but vil doesn’t like getting drunk or even intoxicating himself too much. he knows what a drunk mind can do and he has an image to hold to even let something as getting drunk slip his mind. 

༄ in short, vil hasn’t experienced getting drunk and avoids doing so.

༄ he’s also picky with what alcohol he consumes. he prefers those that have a small alcohol percentage, those that don’t leave a smell, and those that aren’t strong to taste. he’s strict with his beauty regimen.

༄ so, let’s say you were invited to one of vil’s productions and had an after-production dinner. it wasn’t exactly a formal dinner, just a casual one held by the director in a private restaurant.

༄ there was wine and brandy. our dear model picked wine, of course, and you somehow got curious with the taste of brandy. he wouldn’t stop you, he simply warned you to keep the amount stable and not drink too much. he’ll keep an eye on you just in case you might get carried away. better safe than sorry.

༄ vil took only one glass and was drinking it slowly while you looked like you were going to puke. but it was somehow addicting so you took another shot. he was occupied by conversing with other artists/staff that he would simply look at you from the corner of his eye at all times.

༄ up until he noticed you leaning on your hand propped up by your elbow and just staring at the glass did he finally approach you and immediately asked how many shots did you take.

༄ “four....?” you slurred before pulling him to sit next to you and leaning on his shoulder while hugging his arm. 

༄ you were quiet, thank goodness you weren’t really that drunk, but you’re intoxicated alright.

༄ “vil…?” “yes?” “what is rook doing over there?”

༄ okay, now you’re hallucinating. you were pointing at a staff member who nearly had the same haircut as rook. it was his cue to bring you back to pomefiore. Once he was able to excuse himself, he helped you stand up.

༄ sadly, you couldn’t really walk properly without tripping and all that so let’s be thankful that vil does weights. he isn’t keen to the idea of carrying you back and calling a cab to head back since it isn’t really a sight to see.

༄ so, he called rook and made him open the mirror while he carried you bridal-style back to the dorm.

༄ epel is jealous after he found out you were able to have alcohol.

Ⅳ.

༄ we’re going to add our king of hearts to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang.

༄ okay, maybe just the never-drank-alcohol-gang.

༄ riddle has a strict regimen on himself too. he considers alcohol as a junk food so it’s a big no to him. it’s also going to be a taboo for his mother. 

༄ along with kalim, he’s still a minor. alcohol is not that really discussed with anything involved in a conversation with him. academics and schools are top priority, alcohol has no space in his brain nor diet.

༄ he’s not dumb with what alcohol looks like though, so when he saw you drinking beer when he visited ramshackle, he was beyond confused and surprised. his antennas shot up too.

༄  he would scold and question on why you’re drinking something that can harm your liver and you just calmed him down by saying you barely even drink these and that you needed relief from school requirements. you also reassured it was only one bottle and you would drink it slowly. you won’t get drunk.

༄ our king of hearts is confused. since when was alcohol a mood reliever?

༄ he would huff and keep an eye on you despite being all cranky. you would just giggle it off and begin doing your homework again while he tutors you. both of you wouldn’t even notice the increasing bottles of beer that’s popping up beside you as you subconsciously drank more.

༄ don’t ask where the beers are coming from.

༄ when you started to huff and get irritated at riddle did he notice your sudden mood change. 

༄ his eyes grew wide when he saw four bottles of beer beside you. poor boy doesn’t know what to do. should he bring you to bed? feed you something? wait, are you even drunk?

༄ you were getting all cranky, you were ‘tsk’ing and growling at certain things. you would rant and pull on your hair when you would get a mistake. it was so unlike you that riddle doesn’t know if he’s getting mad himself or concerned.

༄ he eventually needed to call trey for help. when the vice dorm leader arrived, trey quickly calmed you down and sent you to bed where you quickly passed out. 

༄ poor riddle received a thorough explanation from trey about what happened and that, as your boyfriend, he should be more aware.

༄ riddle just removed all alcohols of any kind from your existence the end.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate fanfiction - part 3

Chapter 3 - The Chosen Three…Again?

Gale and I step into the building of the Inn after a fresh stroll through Waterdeep, which smells of freshly baked sourdough bread and blueberry muffins. Quite the pleasure to the senses, I must say. It reminds me of innocent days where my mother would bake me a delicious homemade breakfast twice a week before going to the temple to pray to Sȇlune. As we enter the Inn, I notice a couple high elves and a dwarf playing some morning tunes on the lute and flutes to set the mood for those morning people. Rolan is sitting down at a table alone with his cup of coffee. Rolan’s face lights up as he notices us approach him.

“Ah! My friends, come sit!” Gale and I accompany him at the table and immediately a waitress hands us our menus. “It’s good to see you both. And how nice it is to get away for a little while.”

“How has it been at the tower?” Gale asks with a welcoming tone. “Are you practicing becoming a master wizard? I wouldn’t doubt it if you’re there already.”

“Ah, you’re too kind. Unfortunately, I’m not where I want to be just yet. I’m only improving every day. I’m having to partake in my studies more frequently, as well as teaching Cal and Lia the wonders of magic. Just in case anything happens to me. Enough about my life story.” He studies our baby, smiling but looking rather perplexed. “Say, you’ve had your baby for a while now, right? Or am I going mad as a hatter?” Crap! We never told him our situation and that Jenevelle won’t ever age.

“Whew, it’s a very long story, but here it goes,” I mention, mentally preparing myself for his reaction. I go into detail with him about what happened with Jenevelle and how the devils needed her soul to destroy Raphael. How we were promised immortality and that the outcome would have been torture if we didn’t do what we did. As I explain, he looks rather astonished and I can’t exactly tell if he’s judging me.

“Oh Gods, I’m… I’m so sorry. That could not have been an easy predicament to be in. I’m glad it all worked out in the end, at least.” Abruptly, as Gale begins speaking to Rolan, the sounds around me become muffled and my vision fades to darkness, but like a cloud of smoke. This has happened to me before, ages ago…right after I had Jenevelle. Images of Gortash, Orin, and even Ketheric appear right in front of my very eyes, and it’s as if they’re actually here. Holy shit.

“Hello Emmy.” Gortash’s voice still sounds the same, though I can tell hatred is being spat right at me. I swallow the fear and horror as his haunting voice speaks to me. Tell me I’m fucking dreaming and this isn’t happening. I guess if mind flayers can change forms and hags can curse people, anything is possible.

“Well, are you going to say anything, or just sit there silently, mentally squirming at our words as we claw our way into your soul? You’re wasting every second that could be used to slaughter every breathing piece of flesh left standing,” Orin teases, flashing her bloody teeth as she smiles.

“Quiet, Orin. Emmy, dear, we’ve been watching you. My, you are quite the impressive specimen, killing not only all three of us, but the netherbrain itself. You even destroyed countless assassins of Bhaal. I’m impressed. It’s a shame you didn’t put that talent to use and dominate the brain like I instructed before. So inconsiderate and stupid.” I try to speak, but I’m interrupted by Ketheric.

“If you make a single sound, your husband, your friend, and everyone else in this building will hear you. Choose wisely,” he growls, smirking at me. I clench my fists, feeling rage flush through me as I fight off the urge to speak.

“Now, as I was saying,” Gortash retorts, cracking his knuckles. “Imagine all of the lives you could have saved by dominating the brain. You could have controlled all the Bhaal cultists –”

“No, no, no, no, NO! You tyrant, are you listening to yourself?!”

“Unlike you, Orin, I crave control. Power. Not the deaths and flesh of millions of people. Not the screams of the innocent begging for mercy.” This is absolute chaos – no pun intended. Why do they feel the need to harass me, even after their deaths? How is this even happening? They must have been the unsettling presence I felt last night; what else could it be? So many questions are rummaging through my head, gnawing at my brain like animals.

“You will pay for what you did. On the contrary…we are able to create another elder brain,” Gortash adds. How I want to respond to his pathetic words, how I want to pin him against a wall and kill him again.

“If our gods are willing to provide the means of this happening,” Ketheric chimes in, his eyes practically staring Gortash down as a means of dominance, which is a foolish idea. They must not realize I’m immortal. If they do, they’re really good at pretending to be completely unaware. What I do know is that they know something I don’t; at least Gortash does. His disturbing and ominous smirk is hinting that he’s hiding some sort of secret from me.

“Oh, poor little baby, too afraid to speak. To cry. To do our bidding or ask questions.” Orin laughs as she speaks, licking her bloody fingers as she gazes hauntingly into my soul with her pale eyes. Gortash closes his eyes.

“We’ll speak again soon.” Those words alone were the most disturbing out of everything he said; what does he mean by that? I know damn well Gortash is keeping something from me, and it’s making me uncomfortable on every level.

My vision is back to normal and I can hear every sound around me now; was time somehow frozen? It appears Gale and Rolan are completely unaware of my temporary absence from reality. The waitress comes back again to take our order, just shortly after I zone back in, but I’m too stunned to speak.

“What would you like to eat, my love?” Gale asks with a kind smile on his face. I order the strawberry cream pancakes, which honestly sounds beyond incredible right now. I look down at Jenevelle, who is lying comfortably in my baby-wearing wrap. She reaches up at me, gazing at me with her sweet, angelic brown eyes as if she’s saying, “It will be okay mommy.”

I hate that I saw those three again. I hate that Gortash tried to guilt trip me for not dominating the brain. Why can’t they just stay dead like everyone else who passes away? I want to tell Gale about this, but will he believe me? It all sounds ridiculous when I think it through.

As we finish our breakfast, I hear the door open and, surprise, here comes Karlach and Wyll, who we seem to bump into a lot considering Waterdeep is a relatively large city.

“Rolan? Emmy? GALE?!”

“Karlach, why are you the most surprised to see me?” Gale questions with bewilderment. I stand up and bolt toward them. Karlach greets me with open arms, ready to embrace me with one of her famous hugs, but all I can think about is how anxious I am.

“Karlach! Listen, I need to talk to you. Could you and Wyll drop by later?”

“Sure thing, Em! Wait, what did you do?” I playfully roll my eyes and sit back down at the table. I let everyone chat to catch up, but Gale notices I’m not acting myself; he’s good at that. Damn it.

What pisses me off is that I had so many questions I needed to ask, but I couldn’t and those dead chosen bastards knew it. I’m not going to be playing their preposterous games. I need to let it go, maybe I’m overthinking the entire situation.

[lightsaberupmybutt]

A Friendly Massage (2) - Luke Skywalker x FemReader

part one is here!

This imagine is over 5000, this imagine is over 5000 words, this imagine is over 5000 words. i don't know why this is so long, i just wanted to write a quick little part two and its 5000 words of tension and smut and I'm not even sorry, you did this to yourselves.

warnings: SMUT was a tiny slice of oral (male receiving ) on the side, enjoy.

Day to day life carried on as it always had after your run in with Luke the other night, however you knew something had shifted.

 And he certainly felt it too. Your usual good mornings and friendly waves in passing were met with stuttered, awkward greetings and a gaping lack of eye contact. It was obvious that something had to be said to resolve the growing tension between the two of you, but you'd be damed if you were the one to address the elephant in the room. Besides, it was HIS rather large, excitable elephant that had causes the issue in the first place. 

So you waited, biding your time and convincing yourself that on some level this refusal to acknowledge your lust was actually just subliminal jedi training. patience is important right? that seemed to be something Yoda would approve of? abstinence? Although he probably wouldn't be proud of your solo late night escapades that were fuelled by fantasies of what the Blonde Jedi would have done to you if he had just had a smidge more confidence; how he would have looked underneath you while you rode him, unraveling with your every bounce, lips parted whispering your name repeatedly like its the only word he had ever been taught. You wondered if he even liked being ridden, or was he the more dominant of the two of you ? you doubted it, as much as he showed great strength and leadership in the training hall, Skywalker didn't give off the sexual prowess of someone who was largely well experienced, it made sense that he wouldn't be left with much time for bedding girls around you know, saving the whole entire planet from his own fathers borderline demonic regime. 

Truly, though, you had never felt like he wouldn't know what he was doing. Especially after that massage he had given you, even if it was a tad brief. Like knew how to use his hands, even if one of them was mechanical. You found yourself wondering if he used them differently, if he happened to have more dexterity in one set of fingers than the other, how that would feel if those fingers where being put to use inside of your tight - 

“Y/N? have you been listening to a word I've just said” 

Youre whipped out of your thoughts by an all too familiar voice as you vainly attempt to stop your cheeks from turning pink in front of your fellow Padwan’s. You stumble to find you words while simultaneously praying Luke hasn't decided to use his weird mind reading ability in the last 10 minutes of your brain wander or so.

“Sorry sir” is all you can offer, as you truly have not the faintest of ideas of what he was just talking about. You don't miss the way luke stiffens when you use the term of authority toward him, a trick you normally would not exploit however unluckily for him, he caught you completely of guard. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before he returns to pacing,

“You can all return to your activities” He dismisses you all, and you scurry to the door with the others before he adds, 

“not you, Y\N”

ah shit. 

He waits until everyone has exited and the door has shut behind then before he turns to you,

“Whats up with you lately?” his teaching voice is gone, he's back to exasperated friend luke, 

You chortle on a gasp of air as you shoot him an accusatory look, taking a few steps closer to him with your finger outstretched like a weapon, 

“whats up with ‘me’?” you mock, showing your finger towards yourself, before dramatically turning it back on him, moving even closer. 

“What the fuck is up with you Luke? your the one who's being weird with me, don't pull some uno reverse card on the last few days”

You can see the lost puppy dog look in his eyes, as he tries to scramble together some sort of reply, 

“and don't fucking lie to me” you add, closing the space between you so that you're now jabbing him in the chest with your pointer finger. 

“i er, .. i don't know what you're talking about Y/N” god, even the way he says your name is hot, you feel feat rising again in areas it shouldn't but you push it away, your pride not wanting him to get the best of you even if your body would quite happily will it.

“Liar” you spit at him with such venom it surprises even yourself, accompanied with another jab to the chest, this one maybe a little harder than the ones before. 

“ouch” he mumbles, trapping the accusing finger in one palm and rubbing his chest with the other, the dramatics causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Hey, don't do that!” he fires back, you can tell he's trying to sound stern but its not really all to effect when he's still rubbing out the pain from your finger jab.

“do what?” 

“roll your eyes at me! I'm your senior” he puffs his chest, but his eyes still are full of surprise at your sudden outburst.

 “really? are you now luke?” you push him, his hand still wrapped around yours, sending sparks through you arm.

“yes, i am” His voice is breathy, his breath splaying down onto your face as he speaks. You suddenly realise just how close you have managed to get to him, previously too lost in the moment. Your body is all but pressed against his, head tilted down ever so slightly so that he can be on the same eye level as you. There isn't much difference in your height, but right now he feels like he's towering over you. 

Its rare that you see this side of Luke, normally so soft and docile towards you. The tension of this argument and sheer stress that has been building inside of him since your incident is starting to bubble over the surface as he's trapped so close to you now. You can tell he's surveying you, begging you to make the next move though fear he will say something he might regret. 

But maybe that is what you want from him, after all the last happy accident between the two of you has been the image you have gotten off to for the last four nights. 

“prove it then” 

“prove what?” Luke looks confused, suddenly drawing back a little like he'd completely lost the trail of your conversation, head tilted to the side like a bewildered golden retriever, 

“prove that you're my senior” you whisper back, almost not wanting him to hear it. You can tell by the way his light sapphire eyes gaze over he does though, as he watches you pull away and leave the training room, door slamming behind you.

 You slip past two bodies as you rush back to your dorm, your confidence leaking and the implications of what you just challenged beginning to set in. Hans and Leia both follow their gaze after you, the two having witnessed the end portion of yours and Lukes confirmation through the viewing window while waiting for the princess’s twin to finish for lunch. Leia turned to Hans, eyes narrowed,

“you don't think they might actually….” she trails off,

 “bang? oh definitely” Hans answers, still looking at the shaken remnants of Luke Skywalker, who liked like he may have lost all brain function capacity. 

It had been ten hours and forty five minutes since you'd left look in your dust in the training room, not that anyone was counting. And you had concluded two facts while on your bed in that time; 

Luke clearly didn't feel the same way you felt for him; you had left him with basically an invitation to come and take you and he was a no show.

to avoid facing the death by embarrassment you would inevitably suffer you will be spending the remainder of your sorry life inside the confines of this very dorm. it seemed the adult thing to do. 

You muffled a yawn, the sun had long past retired, and from your place on your bed you could just make out the two moons and multiple consolations now decorating the dark blue night.  

Lifting your arms above you head in a stretch, you caught a whiff of sweat and instantly sighed; as much as you had been willing to enjoy never moving from you bed until either starvation or dehydration took you out of your misery, you did happen to stink like garbage. 

You scuffled off the bed and out of your cloak and training pants, that had been left on from hours ago, making a mental note that at least you'd wouldn't have to worry about washing them if you never saw look again. You shimmied out of you knickers and unhooked your bra, throwing them onto the floor to join the rest of your discarded outfit before wandering over to your bathroom and turning on the shower, untangling your hair the best you can while the water warms. 

When you finally stepped under the water you let out a hiss at the feeling of the heat against your skin, basking in the feeling of droplets on your now bare body. You let your hand roam, starting at your chest and finding a path down past your belly button and hips, your skin trembling as your hand drifted over the area between your thighs. 

You let out another hiss, your fingers finding their way between your folds, teasing yourself. You enjoyed the tension loss for all but a moment before flashes of luke pressed against you in the training room earlier flew back into your brain; how hot his skin had been against yours and how his scent had been so strong in his sweat after the hours of sparring multiple Padawan’s. You moaned, half in frustration with yourself for ruining your moment and the other half in want. 

He's even spoiling your shower time now, what a dick. 

You snatched your soap bar from the shelf and scrubbed viciously, not allowing  yourself the enjoyment of a relaxing shower due to your own self betrayal. You ran some through your locks, cursing whichever part of your brain was telling the rest that this would feel a million times better if it was the Jedis hands in place of your own.

Once you had finished mentally punishing yourself, you turned off the water and stood there for a minute contemplating the likelyhood of a bang to the head removing your memory of todays events. 

After all, it would be so simple, a little slip in the shower and poof! Sure, Luke would remember it all, but would he really have the guts to say anything to you about it? surely he wouldn't want to risk your recovery from a very accidental definitely not self inflicted head injury now would he? However, if your preexisting luck was anything to go off, you'd probably forget everything but the sexual tension you had for your master.

Cowardly, you stepped out safely, making sure not to fall, and wrap yourself in a soft towel, leaving your hair to drip down onto your shoulders. You step out of your bathroom, not noticing the shadow that had formed in the corner of your room until they cleared their throat, causing you to just back in sheer terror, going over on your ankle and nearly dropping your towel all together. 

 “Sorry i er..”

“Luke? what the Fuck are you doing” You gasp out, staring blindly into the darkness as the shape shuffles on their feet awkwardly, 

Luke moves closer, the small amount of light left from outside casting across his soft face and mop of hair.

“I didn't mean to scare you” is all he can offer, 

“And what part of you hiding in my room while i showered would not come across as scary?” You shot back, more dazed than angry. You knew what him being here meant, but him hiding in the most light depraved corner of your room while you tried not to masturbate to images in your head of him in your shower was never part of the fantasy.

“i didn't realise you'd be showering this late” He replied, as if that answered the question as to why he was hiding in your room so late at night at all. 

You strained your eyes trying to peer at him, and he seemed to notice, taking another few steps forward into the moonlight. Maker did he look good, under the stars his skin glowed and his hair caught copper and silver highlights that made your knees weak. His soft features were taunt and there was mischief in his eyes, a familiar sight but in the situation at present it made heat grow in your lower stomach. 

Something told you he could see it in your face too, whatever he was looking for, because he kept on moving in on you, like a predator after their pray, You weren't used to seeing Luke all wound up like this, the only other time being the last time he was in your room, but the situation was different this time. There was an open air of lust and anticipation flowing around the two of you, you could only compare it to what the force had felt like the few times you'd managed to master it. It was like something spiritual was drawing you two closer, your body was working on autopilot, moving without your conscious command. He had closed the gap between you by now, but he didn't make a move to touch you or even say any more than he already had, simply staring down at you. When you realised he really wasn't going to be the one to break the silence, you stepped up to the mark for him,

“Why are you here Luke” It wasn't really a question, you knew what you had said to him earlier, the words that you had been replaying over and over in your head ever since. 

“Because..” He trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right way of wording his thoughts, you took this as a chance to push him a little further, no matter how nervous you both were right now, you knew him well enough over the last year to learn how to fire him up, and right now a pent up Luke was exactly what you wanted. You knew you were playing with fire, but you doubted if he did react, it would be in a way you wouldn't enjoy. Quite frankly, the boy could pick you up and throw you out of your own bedroom window right now and you'd still probably be horny enough to find some form of sexual gratification from the experience  

You saw his brow raise and his eyes flash before you heard his word, 

“To show you what i want from you, Padawan” He smirked around the term, causing you to let out a small, nervous laugh. 

“And what is it that you want from me, Master?” You hardly finish the word before his arms have snaked around your back and you're being lifted from the ground, letting out a squeal of surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist for support. He plopped you down on the bed, still situated between your legs, pulling a hand out on either side of your shoulders so that he could stare down at you. 

“Thats not an answer luke” you quipped back, quite impressed at your ability to still functionally produce coherent words. He leaned down, his lips on your ear, 

“oh, i think it is, Y/N” he breathed, letting out a boyish laugh before he could stop himself, almost giving you the chance to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but as his lips touch the skin below your ear and start to plant wet hungry kisses there, the words dissolve into a soft moan. 

His head shoots up and you see the look of concern in his eyes, confirming that maybe Luke isn't the most sexually experienced person on this planet. The sweetness in his reaction makes you weak, but you have lost the ability to reply with words, so you communicate through grabbing either side of his soft face and planting a hungry kiss on his lips. 

For a moment you catch him off guard, frozen under you lips, and you worry that maybe you have somehow misread this situation entirely. Maybe he was just fooling around with you, maybe he wants serious?

But all that concern is dissipated by his lips finding rhythm against yours, equally as passionately. Okay, so maybe he isn't the best at reading you tell tale lust signs, but oh maker can he kiss. The movement of his lips alone is enough to cause severer wetness to pool between your thighs, your spin raising off the bed as far as it can to push your body against his clothed one. You're amazed your towel has lasted this long, especially after the near miss before, but now you find yourself wishing it hadn’t. Conscious of Luke being as respectful as it is, you also know that if you wait for him to remove it you may have melted away before he sees you; so you move a hand from his face to the tie at the top of your chest and pull it open, the towel cascading around you and leaving your front bare.

You had a feeling that Luke was a little too caught up in the moment to realise, so you gently slid you hand around one of his, waiting until he shifted his weight onto his other arm before you lowered it to you chest, letting it cup your breast. Lukes eyes shot open as he let out a gasp, lips opening just enough for you to tease your tongue against his bottom lip. His hand moved instinctively to squeeze, his thumb brushing gently over your already erect nipple. You shivered and moaned in response, but this time Luke knew this meant he was doing something right, so he repeated his actions.

 You had to give it to him, he was a fast learner.

 Your hand moved in an attempt to untie his cloak, but the action was proving difficult while Lukes mouth was on yours and his hand roaming your body, causing you to become inpatient.

“Take it off” You managed to get out between kisses, 

You expected him to challenge your direct order, but he merely sat up and untied the cloak, slipping it from himself and removing his undershirt too. You watched as the moonlight danced upon his skin, his toned chest, years of Jedi training had certainly served his body well. This wasn't the first time you'd seen Luke topless, but it was the first time you hadn't had to hide the fact that you were really looking. Realising how long you had been staring you met his eyes again,  half expected to see him smirking down at you, but he was just as lost in your body as you were his;

“You - You're Beautiful” He stumbled under his breath, you weren't sure if you were even supposed to hear it, but it made your cheeks burn either way. Before he could say anything else, you lifted your back up from the bed and pushed your body flush against his, planting kisses on his neck, eliciting a moan from the Jedi in response. You left little purple marks peppered in the wake of you lips, something you knew he may not be too pleased about in the morning, but you figured you might as well get away with as much claiming of him you could in the heat of the moment. He quivered underneath you, from this angle you could feel his ever-growing, now comically familiar, budge, his body naturally thrusting into yours, causing a beautiful friction against your heat. Luke was lost in the pleasure, and has seemingly temporarily forgotten he had hands, so you grabbed ahold of on and pushed it down to the bottom of your stomach, lifting your core from his so he could access it. Luke met your eyes again, this time you could tell him was clueless, his cheeks glowing a deep scarlet.

“I erm” You didn't let him finish, you'd figured Luke was a little inexperienced but not to this level. The massive reverse in roles made you feel a little powerful; suddenly you were the experienced one and he was your understudy. Maybe he should be calling you master? You made a mental note to remember that fact for tomorrow when the joke might go down better than in the middle of sex, 

“Just rub around here” you told him, while guiding his hand to your bundle of nerves, making sure to show him the correct pressure you wanted, and then your lips were back on his. 

Luke was slow at first, and it took him a while to actually bring his fingertips between your folds, however once he did he seemed to find the exact spot you wanted him in. Whether it the pressure of his cool finger tips or the fact that he had been unintentionally teasing the area so long, you released a borderline animalistic high pitched moan, lurching forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt him chuckle against your neck, repeating his action and causing you to squeal again, 

“well then” He murmured into your ear, a cheeky air to his voice, causing you to groan knowingly - you'd certainly be mocked for that vicious reaction afterwards. 

You wanted to smack the smirk from his lips, but instead you lowered one of you hands between your bodies, resting it on Lukes now fully erect but concealed member. He paused momentarily, before letting out his own moan as you started to palm him through his loose trousers. There was dampness under your hand, a mix of your slick heat and his own leaking member, but it only spurred you on more. 

Lukes actions had become increasingly sloppy, his hand slipping lower and lower until one of his digits unintentionally bumped against your opening, causing you to jump in his arm and whine against his ear. Luke took this as a sign to dip the tip of the finger into you, testing to make sure this wasn't the wrong move, when you hum in response he slips the rest in up to his knuckle. The action makes you tremble, and you're panting and whispering jibberish into his ear. He removes the finger and then puts in back in slowly, still unsure. Its torture, literal torture. You start moving your lower body against his hand, riding it. You're not sure what makes him do it, maybe just a reflex, but luke bends his finger ever so slightly just at the right point of entrance and hits your inner sweet spot, causing your tummy to do a flip and move wetness to peek from your core. His other hand finds your clit again, without you having to instruct him this time, and the mix of both actions causes your eyes to roll back into your head and you to let out a quieter but still prominent squeal. Luke laughs again, 

“Calm down little one” He teases, confidence dripping from his ever word. 

Maybe its the temptation to remove his smugness again, or maybe you're just turned on so much by this cocky side of Skywalker you've previously not seen enough of, but you instantly reach your hand under his waistband and inside his boxers, finding his length and stroking it directly with your hand. 

He instantly spasms under you, almost bucking you off him, and you thank god you're near enough to your headboard to catch yourself before he does. 

“sorry” he mumbles, steadying you with one hand, his other still inside your heat. 

“Shhh, its okay” you reassure him, before gently removing his hand from your heat and pushing him back a bit, causing him to look at you with confusion. 

“I just want to see it properly” You tell him, working on his waistband again. 

“You already have” he groans, clearly getting some secondhand embarrassment  from his previous accidental boner experience, but lowering his pants and boxers none the less, his manhood springing out. 

he hisses slightly as it meets the cool air of the room, his head rolling back ever so slightly - and you don't think you've ever seen a sight so sinful and glorious in your life. 

You lower your head down towards it but he catches your forehead against his palm before you can meet your goal, 

“erm? excuse me”

“youre excused ?” you reply, looking up at him from your position almost at his manhood, 

“what are you doing?”

“Oh luke i think you know fine well” You dip your tongue out between your lips, and it just reaches the very tip of his head, catching a little of what he's leaked there. Luke lets out a throaty moan in response, and you take advantage of his distraction, moving out from under his hand and licking his full length, from the base to the very tip. The sounds Luke makes in response are enough to almost make you tip over your own edge, but you try to suppress your own want long enough to put him all in your mouth and do a slow bob. He bucks into your mouth, unintentionally hitting the back of your throat and causing you to almost gag, the process causing him to mutter profanities that you never thought you would hear from the golden boy of the rebellion. 

You only get in a few slow bobs before his hand returns to your head, but this time he doesn't push you away, so you continue to move your mouth around his length which his fingers get lost in your hair. You cant fit all of him in your mouth comfortably, and your mind starts to wonder to what is inevitably the next step, your heat reminding you of just how much you want him down there, fucking you senseless into your own bed while the rest of the ship sleeps (hopefully)  unaware of your actions. 

Suddenly Luke is tugging your hair, pulling you up from him so that he slips out of your mouth with an audible plop. You take a chance to actually look at him, surprised at just how unravelled he looks, sweat causing his locks to stick to his forehead in erratic patterns, his eyes the darkest shade of blue you've ever seen. 

“whats wrong?” You ask him, your voice a little more course than you expected, 

“ Im going to come” He tells you truthfully, embarrassment visible on his face. You want to giggle at his innocent response, but you also don't want him to feel even worse than he clearly does, so you suppress it and keep your eyes on his, 

“Well come then “ you answer obliviously, still not truly understanding the route of his embarrassment. Sure, this wasn't exactly the worlds longest performance, but you'd seen much worse from people with much more experience - and at least Luke had actually managed to get you wet. 

I want to but “ He stopped, turning away in frustration and drifting off at the very last minute, you waited for him to finish, reaching for his hand and rubbing your thumb against it, attempting to reassure him enough to let you continue. 

“I want to fuck you” The way he says the words, like he knows he shouldn’t, makes it the most sinful line you've ever heard from anyone. You feel like he's just hit you with a sledgehammer, your core pulsing in response. 

He still wont look at you, so you simply lean back into  your bed, opening your legs, all prior shyness being pushed to the back of your mind by the raging lust that his words had fuelled. 

“Fuck me then” You instruct him, and oh boy, he does. 

head whipping around, Luke crawls back over you, eyes burning holes into yours as he meets your face, you bend your knees and grab his member with your hand, making sure to run it along your slit, gathering your wetness in its wake, before placing the tip at its rightful home, against your opening. Luke looks like he might burst, but you place a gentle kiss on his lips before guiding your body up to meet him, his tip entering you and stretching you out. You gasp at the feeling, Luke taking this as his cue to slow insert the rest of himself, filling you fully and causing you to clench around him on impact. Both of you are moaning now, maybe a little louder than appropriate for such a communal ship, but neither of you could find it in yourselves to care at this moment in time.

Luke was big, for sure. You remembered back to just before and internally cursed yourself for not making sure he used more than one finger one you; you were definitely no virgin but it had been a while since you'd been with anyone, and nobody had ever come near the size you were dealing with now. As luke started moving, the sensation of slight discomfort faded, and you were being overrides with a new force. You could feel every inch of him inside you, and partnered with his breathy moans of your name and his increasingly wild expressions, you could feel the coil of lust inside you beginning to build again. Maker, this was so good - surely things this good shouldn't be allowed for sinners like you. 

Lukes movements got sloppy all to fast, you could tell he was fighting his high as long as possible

You were overpowered with the need to give him release, slipping one hand into his hair and the other to his cheek, 

“Come for me, master” Your words caused his eyes to flash open, and his whole body to convulse, he didn't take much telling; you felt warmth leak into you as Luke let out a final throaty moan and his head flopped into your chest. 

You lay there for a while, stroking the stray locks of hair from his face as both your breathing returned to a somewhat normal level, him still inside you as you started to leak out over the covers. You'd probably be bothered about that tomorrow, like the clothes unwashed on the floor and the sound complaints from the people either side of your dorm. But for now, nothing could bother you. 

As you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Luke felt for the first time in years that nothing outside of this ship was worth any of his mind, he had all he needed here in this bed with you.

[grimoireofwritings]

Hi! Could i get a nsfw scenario where William masturbates for one night thinking about his fem s/o?

.......

So here's me, casually appearing randomly from the void to finally post this months later 0_0

I'm so sorry y'all, mental health has been in the gutter lately and suffering from major heart and brain damage at age 21 is just not a fun gig. Nonetheless, I hope this was worth the wait, you thirsty hoes >.<

Warnings: smut, light femdom ( I headcanon William with a lean towards sub )

Scenario: William's female s/o walks in on him jerking off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guilt.

It was all William could really feel in that moment. Well, aside from a general, looming sensation that had been plaguing the poor gentleman for a while now. It made his stomach all fluttery and nauseous with two completely contradicting urges... Which didn't result in a good state to rest in, as he lay propped up on his simple bedroom mattress. It had even prevented him from getting proper sleep lately. One such part of the equation was his complete and utter shame, which replayed punishing thoughts in his mind on repeat... Mentally battling with himself on how wrong it was to think such filthy things about a woman so pure and angelic. A body like that, he could easily imagine it sculpted from marble like the most honored and beautiful of Goddesses in ancient times. Every curve, and the warmth of that soft skin that he could dream of... How could he ever imagine desecrating it? Dirtying it, and perhaps staining it with his intent?

Apparently he could, and he did... Quite frequently. Such horrendously ungentlemanly thoughts popping into his mind had him mortified with himself.

For this reason, he kept his uncontrollably growing desires a secret from his partner. It seemed to him that she was comfortable with their current level of intimacy in their relationship, therefore.. he would remain quiet and allow her to call the shots. It had always been this way, with him considering himself lucky to have her in his life at all, what with a face like his... As well as his history. So he kept quiet, allowing her to make all the first moves so as to not make her uncomfortable. Despite the longing and craving he had for her, and the shame it brought him, he would suppress every last desire, and would never utter a word or clue about it.

It was getting harder however, every passing day. More and more challenging not to notice the lump in his throat when he had to refrain from staring at certain parts of her in particular outfits, and keep his hands from wandering over the perfectly smooth plains of her thighs, or even passionately gripping on to those breasts that took his breath away.

He gave a slight audible whine, there in his bed, tortured by these thoughts popping up once again.. because once they started, they couldn't stop. This time around for some reason it was particularly agonizing to ignore the growing need in his pajama pants, which was legitimately painful to disregard at this point. He'd end up sweating, palms gripping on to the sheets, as he refused to touch himself to the thought of her. Absolutely not... Never.. he could never be so degrading and perverted towards someone who deserved only the highest respect.

Even as he told himself this for the millionth time, the words had been losing their influence that week, and it was at that moment that he caved, giving a strangled whimper of regret whilst his right hand crept under his waistband. From that point on his vision went blurred and brimmed with red, framing pictures in his mind that could only consist of her.

And goodness was that woman breathtaking. He somehow felt starved for a touch he'd never quite experienced before with her... A deep craving as he could practically feel those lips of hers, divine and smooth like rose petals, grazing over his sensitive neck. Would she perhaps moan his name out softly into his ear, as his hands wrapped around her rear to slip a finger between her wetted and ready slit? Yes... Not only could William picture it, but he could almost feel it, too.

Hands, on her velvet skin, squeezing and caressing here and there.. her labored breaths brushing past his cheeks. By this point William had thoughtlessly worked up the courage to start stroking himself, his movements terrified and shaky, slow but gradual. The tortured man could not help himself.. he really couldn't. Despite the fact that he felt like an atrocious person, that previously sick feeling in his stomach was being replaced by mind splitting pleasure.

Warmth.. so much warmth he was feeling down there, in fact it was warm enough now that it was exactly what he imagined her hot, inviting mouth would feel like. This time he let out a soft but much more discernable moan, a couple of lost syllables and stutters rolling off of his lips as he imagined her tongue massaging in place of where his fingers currently were. He vaguely had a couple of thoughts warning him he should stop soon... She'd be back in their shared room any moment now, after finishing up her nightly chores around the headquarters. But he was way too far gone, and foggy in the brain, to give a damn and have the self control to even do so.

Not to mention, the slightest surfacing of precum wasn't helping, given that it added a slight lubricant to the situation and really solidified the illusion in his mind he'd created for himself. His greatest fantasy would be to have her ride him, perhaps..

Absolutely. Just her, in all of her glory, above him and in her rightful place where he could worship and adore from below. The image alone of her hair framing an expression of ecstacy like a curtain, eyes hazy with pleasure all because of him, whilst he allowed his hands to boundlessly wander over every surface of her divinity.. maybe his lips would latch on to her skin and travel down to a breast, all the while drowning in her sounds.. it was enough to drive him mad in the most beautiful way possible.

By that point, poor William Vangeance was too far gone to even notice the barely audible creaking of the door whilst his girlfriend stepped inside their now shared room. A slur of pathetic, whiney mumblings and moans were leaking out into the air for her to hear in utter shock, as well as her name whispered breathlessly to confirm that he was, in fact, masturbating while thinking of her.

"William? What are you doing?"

It was about as sudden as flipping off a light switch. Light to dark in an instant.. except this time it was his voice and his movements. In the dim room, the only light source being a small candle which cast an orange glow on his face, she could make out a look of complete panic, his entire frame completely paralyzed in his position. Had he gone catatonic?

While she had found the display amusing, she was now distracted, more worried about him than anything else. "Love? Are you alright? This isn't very expected of you.." she trailed off, but before she could finish, William snapped out of his trance, causing her to gasp and glance up at the unexpected tone of his voice.

The poor man could hardly form any coherent words in his next jumbled sentences, sometimes the only noticable parts being things like "I'm so sorry for-" and "I will get my things and go out to the front room couch for the night-" to which his partner was dumbfounded by his amount of panic. In fact, William looked to be on the verge of tears, utterly destraught, much to his partner's worry and dismay. However.. she figured she could easily fix this.

Sauntering over to him, she sat beside him on the bed, placing a finger to his lips in an instant to hush him. Leaning forward to speak directly to him, she could tell he thought he was in for a scolding, but what came next had his jaw practically hanging from its hinges in a gape.

"Touching yourself without me here to take care of your needs? You've got some nerve doing my job for me, Captain William Vangeance. I was surprised you hadn't asked me sooner for favors quite like the ones you were probably just imagining.. but now that I know you've been naughty and doing this in your own time, don't expect any mercy from me tonight. I'll prove to you why I'm far more efficient than your right hand. And I'd better not see this again."

She gave a cheeky smirk, completely digging that expression he was wearing. He 100% never would have guessed such lewd words could ever come out of her, and honestly, it already had his entire body lighting up with heat. That confidence from her.. the domineering and sexy edge to her lips, curled into a dark sneer.. it was all blindingly amplified the moment she straddled over him, looming over his body to speak in a low tone towards his ear. "Are you prepared for me to devour you?" She asked.

This was really doing it for him, and he caved, his pent up desire mixing with his excitement and impatience of the moment... Unable to handle the anticipation. As a result, he resumed, feeling already quite close to an orgasm as he frantically jacked himself off with her weight and presence above him. He just... Couldn't wait anymore. And she was too dazzling, too seductive, much too hypnotizing with those devilish words.

"You have the audacity to continue right after what I just said? Bold move, Captain. Either I underestimated you or you're fucking desperate for me. Which one is it? Care to share with me? If you do, perhaps I will let you off the hook... A bit."

"Y-y/n... P-please! L-let me-"

His begs and pleas were interrupted by a deafening, breathless, gasping cry as he came on the spot, a few whimpers following in a perfect sequence as the white hot pleasure seized violent hold of his body, almost aggressive in nature after having been repressed for so long. Panting, he watched his partner witness his helpless and needy state, almost amplifying the experience to a degree.

She was dead quiet, watching with sharp eyes and an intensity in her stare as he slowly came down from the high, body naturally going limp with exhaustion and his breathing evening out. He chuckled sheepishly then, eyeing her with a noticable hint of anticipation and excitement in his gaze, slightly curious if she'd follow through with her previous promise. "B-better to ask forgiveness than p-permission, right?" He tried meekly, biting his lip at that irresistible smirk returning to her face.

"Incorrect" she stated, which set his nerves aflame yet again.

"See... You're the one who wanted me so bad, aren't you? I honestly had no idea... Especially with how shy you are, I was waiting, but it seems you've made me wait longer than necessary. Not to mention, after directly disobeying me, you owe me a couple rounds. Understood? You'll bear with it like a good boy... And I'll be sure you enjoy it too."

There.. that softer look in her eyes at that last statement, despite how perfectly and wonderfully dominant she was - it made his heart melt. William found it very comforting that he didn't have to take charge right away and that she was naturally the one in charge in such an environment - he spent so much time worrying, being afraid, stressing, overthinking, and telling people what to do... That giving up control to someone he trusted was just a complete relief.

"Yes ma'am," he stated, having gained back some composure. "I'll do my best to endure whatever my goddess intends to give me.. please allow me to touch and praise you."

"Good boy," she cooed, encouraging his words of loyalty, as she slowly lowered herself to gently and sensually take him into her mouth to start off. Almost immediately, a tortured cry of overstimulation escaped him, but at the same time it felt completely euphoric.

It occured to William that one of the best nights of his life was about to take place, so he closed his eyes, and placed a hand down on the head bobbing over him.

~end~

[rocorambles]

Kinktober Day 9: Brat Taming

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Toxic Relationships, NSFW, Non-Con, Whipping, Degradation, Mafia AU

Author’s Note: This could be considered as being part of the same AU as my Mafia Oikawa fic, but can also be read alone! Link to the Yandere Mafia Oikawa fic here. 

It’s amazing how much Oikawa let you get away with. Matsukawa can’t even remember a time where you showed even a hint of fear despite being surrounded by men who could kill you in a matter of seconds, who could torture you until you wished you were dead. You’ve always just been attached to Oikawa at the hip, hanging off his arms at events, sitting in his lap during meetings. And he doesn’t think Oikawa is really capable of love, but whatever you two had was as close to the sickening L word as possible when you’re part of the mafia. 

Matsukawa had seen you as merely eye candy in the beginning when Oikawa had one day introduced you to everyone and he had brushed you off as just another plaything for the boss to toy around with until it broke. But then months passed and then years and you were still around, brazen in your attitude, sharp with your words, mocking with your actions. Overall, just a brat. And yet it seemed that no matter what you did or what you said, no matter the chaos you caused internally, no matter the outright disrespect you showed to Oikawa, the brunette just waved it off, laughing the overall tension away. Sure, you were “punished” from time to time, but when your punishments just ended with your pleasured screams and you proudly displaying your new love marks to everyone the next day, it was hard to take them seriously. 

He wondered if Oikawa was becoming soft, weak, but he didn’t question the man. He’d stood by his side far too long to turn his back on him now and he thanks whoever’s listening that he decided to stay loyal when he accidentally walks in on the two of you while he’s on his way to deliver a message to Oikawa. And if he thought you were attractive before, the sight of your wanton face full of lust as Oikawa penetrates you over and over again is seared into his brain now. He knows he should immediately turn and leave, come back later, but he’s rooted to the spot and he can feel his cock twitch as he fully takes in your lewd moans and before he realizes it, his hand is palming his bulge and that’s the exact moment you decide to turn your head and he freezes as the two of you make eye contact through the gap of the ajar door. 

Reality and common sense finally come crashing down on him as he swiftly escapes and in the privacy of his room he roughly shoves his pants and boxers down, hurriedly rubbing himself off to the mental picture of your naked body lewdly arching as if it were begging for more, putting itself on display for its owner and as thick spurts spill all over his hand, he wonders what it would be like to be the one who owned you. 

It’s just a thought he had in a moment of passion, he reasons to himself. There’s no way he’d take you right from under Oikawa’s nose. And so he ignores you. Or at least he tries to. But maybe you’ve been hanging around Oikawa for far too long, maybe that’s how you’ve become so relentless and unknowing of when to stop with your brattiness and teasing. And Matsukawa grits his teeth as you purposefully seek his gaze, languidly and sensually licking and sucking anything your mouth can get a hold of while you stare at him, subtly touching yourself and moaning like a whore whenever he’s nearby. But the breaking point is when he’s seated across from Oikawa and you at dinner one day and he stiffens in shock when he feels something grinding against his groin. He subtly looks under the tablecloth and something begins to burn hot and heavy inside of him when he sees your silky stocking clad feet playing with him, fondling his rapidly hardening cock, and suddenly it’s your turn to stiffen in shock when he menacingly smiles at you. Excitement builds inside of him at the fear in your eyes as you immediately retract your legs and sink deeper into Oikawa’s hold on you.

Interesting. Looks like you could be tamed after all. 

Matsukawa plays the long game and he waits and waits until finally one night, after a successful raid that he’s led, a drunk and high Oikawa slaps him hard on the back in congratulations, asking him what he wants as a reward. And he takes a deep breath before determinedly asking for a taste of you. 

The room freezes and for a second his life flashes before his eyes, but when Oikawa merely shrugs his shoulders and tells him that you’ll be waiting in his bed tonight (after all, you’re a small price to pay for a life-long friend, someone he considers a brother), he pins you down with a triumphant grin that twists into something more feral at the panic racing through your eyes.

He thinks it’s adorable that even when you’re cornered and trapped, you try to put up a strong front, throwing coy words at him as you seductively posture yourself on his bed and only the slight tremor in your voice gives any indication of the true fear coursing through you. 

“Aww did you get tired of just imagining me? How many times did you jack off to the memory of Oikawa fucking me while you stood there watching like a creep? Come on. Let’s get this over with. I bet you’ll cum just from sticking your tip in me.”

Clearly you’ve let the heady power of being Oikawa’s favorite toy get to you, trick you into thinking you’re untouchable. Oh how wrong you are and Matsukawa enjoys the thrill he feels as realization slowly but surely sinks into you when he roughly flips you onto your stomach and removes his belt and all that fills the room are your agonized screams mixed with the slicing of air as leather whips down on you leaving bright red welts in their wake. He doesn’t stop until your lungs and hoarse throat won’t even allow you the luxury of voicing your pain and when you’re finally silent he slides a hand under your chin and forces you to look up at him.

Hmm. Looks like you have a bit more training to go through to tame the fire he still sees flaring within you, but you’re getting there. And he smiles as you remain silent despite the hate radiating in your eyes as he purposefully digs his blunt nails into the painful lash marks on your soft skin. 

So maybe he’s gone a bit overboard, but really you only have yourself to blame. Matsukawa has always been thorough and you just have so many rebellious quirks he needs to force back into shape. Luckily for you, he’s a patient man who never leaves a project unfinished and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how resistant you are. There’s just something about you that makes him want to break you to pieces and rebuild you into the perfect toy and that’s just solidified by the smoldering embers he still sees in you as you weakly sneer and spit at him even with his cum smeared all across your face, even with both your lower holes gaping and used, a mix of blood and semen pooling underneath your limp body.  

And spurred on by his desire to fully dominate you, his fingers are racing across his phone as he makes a few calls and switches around some bodies. Matsukawa is known for his more...sadistic tendencies...and mixed with his connections to various underground body cleaning companies, it’s not hard to convince a furious Oikawa that there had been a terrible accident when he lost control of himself around you and the mangled bloodied corpse on the bed looks enough like you to make the lie believable. Sure, he’ll need to make it up to Oikawa with an irritating amount of favors and ass kissing, but it seems like a small price to pay when he gets to go back home to you, his little pet project. 

And when things finally blow over and the dynamics of the gang are back to normal as Oikawa finds a new pretty plaything to mess around with, the higher ups crassly joke about your poor fate. It’s Hanamaki who first brings it up one night while Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Matsukawa, and him are doing lines of coke. 

“Damn, Mattsun. I know your dick is big, but I didn’t think it was big enough to literally kill someone.” 

The light brown haired man snorts at his own joke, too high out of his mind to care about the way Oikawa slightly pouts at his words and Matsukawa watches in amusement as Iwaizumi growls at them to be a little more respectful of the dead. 

Obviously, it’s an exaggeration to say his dick could kill you, but he wonders how the three men would react if they could see how his cock could make you brain dead now, how just having his cock stuffed inside you is enough to have you lie there like a warm fuck doll for him to use whenever and however he wants. A small part of him wants to show Oikawa how well behaved you are now, how obedient and submissive you’ve become, how docile you can be when trained, how even the biggest brats like you can be fully tamed. But his more possessive side wins out as he snorts another white dusty line and he stays quiet as a coil of lust begins to pool in his stomach at the image of your kneeling naked form waiting patiently for him at home.    

[yessoupy]

you didn't ask for this take, but i'm offering it anyway.

i started watching michael phelps in 2000. i distinctly remember the day i found out that he'd gone pro at 16. my swim coach had us all guess who he was talking about and when he said it was michael my brain went, "that kid from last year???"

the athens games in 2004 came around and the kid from sydney was now 19 years old and dominating. he won 6 golds and 2 bronzes and whenever anyone made comments that he'd "failed" with those two bronzes (one in the 200m free when he lost to IAN THORPE AND PIETER VAN DEN HOOGENBAND, THE BEST and the other in the 4x100 free relay where the south africans just came out of NOWHERE and surprised EVERYONE), my reaction was "what the fuck???? he's third in the biggest meet there is???? that's not failure!!! your expectation that he achieve perfection was unrealistic! don't blame him for that." i've been fiercely protective of olympic athletes since a very young age -- i was 10 when i learned about greg louganis and his struggles. that made a big impact on me.

when mike was pulled over for rolling a stop sign back home in maryland and blew a .08 on the breathalyzer? my mind went right to all of the stories i'd found about olympians suffering from post-olympic depression. (were there a lot of stories? nope! but there were enough that it was something i knew about and worried about for my favorite athletes.)

then it was 2008 and mike was going for EIGHT GOLDS IN EIGHT RACES and the media was all over him and his face was serious and i wasn't watching those olympics live, i don't know if i could handle it. (my family had moved to hawaii and the first week of the olympics was the week i spent in texas before heading back to college. i also went to 7 baseball games in those 7 games, and my friend and i watched the prime time re-run every evening......)

the fact that mike was able to accomplish that feat was pure dumb luck. his finish that won him the 100m fly against mike cavic was the worst way to finish a race and every swim coach CRINGED but had he not taken the stroke he'd have lost. i can't even talk about the 4x100 free relay -- that gold was EARNED by jason lezak. EVEN IN THE SHINY SUIT ERA NO ONE BEAT HIS RELAY SPLIT.

but anyway. imagine having all of that pressure in 2008, when twitter was a thing but not really, managing to muscle through a grueling 8 days of racing at the highest level of your sport, being on every talk show and cereal box and magazine and on and on, and then you go home, where you swim AT a university but aren't a student, and you go to a party and hit the bong and a picture gets out and you have to apologize for letting loose because America made you a role model.

Then it was 2012, and that was supposed to be it. He'd retired. But he had no idea what to do with himself.

He didn't know what he was if he wasn't a swimmer. So he went in and competed again in 2016. Imagine being in THAT situation! The only thing you know how to do is swim 10km a day.

Now you see him on commercials for mental health apps, and I think I've seen his interview about Simone Biles' decision like 5 times without even looking for it. He's the greatest Olympian of all time, hands down. (There are some arguments someone COULD make about other athletes, but it's not like he was only swimming freestyle for all those medals .....) The fact that the greatest Olympian of all time is out there saying to the American people that we need to prioritize the mental health of these athletes, and that he supports Simone in her decision? Whether you like the image of that or not, the reality is that that means the WORLD in this space. It's HUGE for him to be on American media and speaking about this to the American public.

And what Simone has done in speaking about her mental health and taking a step back? That's HUGE for the athletes themselves. It's one thing for Mike to be out there talking about what he went through, it's another for her to be out there talking about what she's GOING through. The positive impact that she's going to have on the mental health of other athletes cannot be overstated. "If Simone Biles could make this decision for herself at the Olympics, I can do it too."

I know that Mike is ~problematic. The swimming world is a small one, though, and I've been part of it for 20 years. To me, Mike isn't just that Olympic athlete who's around every 4 years to win some medals. He's the guy who put my sport on the map and whose athletic feats inspired a new generation of swimmers (Katie Ledecky, Joe Schooling, Chad le Clos, the list goes on!). Mike's the guy I almost ran over in the parking garage because he doesn't pay attention in parking lots/garages (this was not the only time; there are multiple stories from multiple people). Mike's the guy who'd always sign autographs for the kids whenever he wasn't actively swimming --

Mike's a human being who's made mistakes and hasn't always been the BEST ambassador for the sport, but you know what? I was proud of him each time he won a medal, but I'm more proud of him now for what he's doing outside of the pool.

[border-spam]

Does troy really have a split jaw or is that fanon?

It's total fanon!

The design of the split lines across his cheekbones and chin coupled with the cheek clips and v shaped hinge outline next to his ears lead to a lot of people coming to that same outcome, that there is something up with his mouth from a prosthetic/mod standpoint.

So much of his design is never mentioned once or referenced in any way (hightech spinal rig with tattoos under it, neuro connector, mech arm that's much older and doesn't seem related to the spine and neuroport, implants on bicep, face mod etc) that like Tyreen's scars and possible lower body Siren markings, fandom took over when it came to coming up with logical explanations for 'em.

This actually touches ground with some Ao3 comments I wanted to share as they are all Leech Lord compliant, so I'll list them here alongside links to the fics they were related to (note warnings!)

You leave no avenue for characterization unexplored. Troy's facial prostheses finally receiving backstory is amazing

- Maw (Gore/Bodyhorror)

I LOVE the idea of it being not just decorative shit on his face, but my MO for any content I make is always based around asking why, over and over, and trying to make sense of what material I'm using in the first place. The modded mouth is a popular piece of fanon but you know... why? Why would he do that shit to himself. WHY would he want to be grotesque, why would he be chasing the reaction people would have to it when canonically he seems to really not be interested in fan attention the same way Tyreen is, what's the difference to him between being adored as his persona or being lusted after as a monster, etc. I just love deep-diving into the logic behind character and world building? It's what adds meat to the bone for me.

Big 'ol character and worldbuilding / lore responses list under the cut -

He could afford better robots but these ones UNDERSTAND Ty, don't you get it?

- Good night in (tooth rotting fluff)

Hey just because it's mangled and broken, and can't perform its intended function to a degree expected of it by everyone around it... and it's got rusty sharp bits it accidentally hurts you with sometimes... and it's cranky but it doesn't mean it... and sometimes it errors out in a way that's mildly disturbing in a way you can't place.. uh.. doesn't mean you should just GIVE UP ON IT you know? He can fix them :) They will be fine :) No one should just throw away something that's trying so hard just because it's damaged... haha... :')

It's so hard seeing how much they tear each other down when they're the only thing they have left. And what a poor self-image Tyreen has beyond all that glitter and bluster...

- Wolf in sheep's clothing

The twins function well enough as a unit till tensions rise, and I was trying to seed in The Leech's influence on them in earlier work like this too - towards anyone else Ty would become MORE aggressively confident, more assured in her complete and utter dominance of the situation, her flawlessness, but against Troy who see's her for what she is, it turns inwards and eats at her instead of lashing outwards. He switches from relatively submissive around her to almost surgical levels of dissection, he knows exactly how to go for the jugular with words, and doesn't hold back. She's The Leech's mouth but he's its eyes and it's only when they lose control emotionally enough for it to claw to the surface of their psyches that you get an idea of how much it really affects them individually. GB had an absolute goldmine on their hands here of cosmic/body horror and the concept of toxic family when all you have is each other, there's so much to work with, and I figure it's a factor in why some people still really enjoy messing around with Calypso content.

I like how you allow Troy to be a disabled character, how his congenital defects and prosthetics colour his outlook and appear in ways big and small in all these vignettes. It's easy, I think, to see him as largely untroubled by his health apart from when he needs a charge from Tyreen in the game, but you allow him to struggle with his weakness.

- Chronic (Drug use)

I'm really glad to hear that's coming through in the writing because it's something I noticed a lot too. Very often when Troy, or other characters canonically disabled / chronically unwell are written it's "told" and not "shown". Chronic pain, illness, it's not something that is just a little tickbox in a life or some descriptive terms added to a character synopsis, it's something you live and deal with. There are bad days. There are times it is a negative that has to be worked around or faced in ways that aren't pleasant. It doesn't make you lesser or weak to have times where illness does leave you unable to function to a level you want to, it's not a failure for you to be unable to perform tasks when a disability or flair up means it's not viable. I feel personally that by showing scenes like this where his health and body issues do have a very visceral and impossible to ignore the effect on his ability to function, and going through his mental processes of dealing with and managing them, it brings the character across as stronger than if he never seemed to be shown dealing with symptoms or weaknesses. People are more than their disabilities and conditions, those aren't just kinda taglines to add onto a character's description and then never address. I feel like doing that in a way undermines what people deal with who manage chronic illness, pain, and who have disabilities that affect their daily lives negatively. Appreciating the effort it takes to manage them is important.

What I really like about these is that you can really understand as a reader how their dynamic must have evolved. How even before Leda's death Tyreen would have felt demonized while Troy got the attention because of his condition, because he was less willful.

- Starlight, Moonbright

Ah man, absolutely - and that shit stayed with them. It wasn't his fault and he never wanted it, but of course their parents would have had their extremely ill child at the forefront of their thoughts, especially during weeks when he was.. bad. Tyreen by nature even without The Leech's influence is a little attention seeker, she'd be the life of any party and she BLOSSOMS if she's got the spotlight, but as a little kid who's got literally no one but her parents and her brother, and who all three of which can't give her nearly as much time as she deserved? That's rough. That's really unfair. That coupled with The Leech's warping effect on their egos as they grew up and the bitterness and resentment they harbored in different ways created a reverse dynamic. She'd never be out of the Galaxy's attention again, and he'd have no choice but to take his rightful place in her shadow.

I love how you illustrate both how much more, and yet how much less Troy is now. How the blameless child, full of potential, is inextricably linked to the brutal, larger-than-life avatar he fashions.

- DeLeon ( Graphic Violence / Gore / Hallucinations)

He's molded the monster he is now out of the bones of the man he should have been - there's no going back really. There's nothing left to go back to. He broke Troy DeLeon apart to build the persona that acts like an iron lung now, suffocating him breath by breath while forcing him to still take them. That life is over, he killed it before it had a chance, but the idea of it is still there in his subconscious. Somewhere in the absolute trainwreck of Troy's brain is the tiny, flickering belief that maaaaaybe one day this will all be over and he can shuck off the bracer and spines, peel off all the shit he's covered his skin with, and just go back to not being Calypso. DeLeon here isn't some aspect of his mental state or his sins haunting him - it's The Leech, spitting venom at a host it loathes in something that's not sound or comprehensible language. His subconscious has just translated it into something it can understand - his greatest regret.

On if Borderlands Humans originated on Earth -

There's a really tenuous link between BL verse and rEarth, but it's there and can't be ignored. The cultures, accents, terminologies, so many are Earth specific despite these people being spread across galaxies, so hell yes - Earth as an emergence point makes total sense. The next question then, is why is it never mentioned - and you can cover for that with a lot of things like say, tt was so long ago that it's not relevant to anything that would ever be discussed, or it could be a mass evacuation from a catastrophe there is little record of now. I like to go with something along those lines, that the first human Siren host emergence on earth just absolutely decimated the planet. Like, we were doing fine till this random woman somewhere in the ass-end of nowhere develops weird markings overnight, then goes apocalyptic. The first Leech maybe, not understanding her powers and having them rip across continents in a spread of crackling electric death that only left husked shells of plants and animals in its wake, or the first Firehawk who went nuclear and burned the sky, or the first Voidgrasp who lost control and began to collapse the planet's core - some extreme shit that had humans fleeing en masse with barely any preparation and HUGE swathes of history and knowledge left behind. That would cover so many social things surviving into the BL verse, cultures, accents, cooking, that shit comes with us regardless of what we were able to throw into escape ships. Like so much data would be stored on any tech and data arrays within the vessels people would use to leave a dying planet even in an insane rush, but that shit waters down over time - if you're farming barely edible plants on some planet that smells like farts, are you really gonna be that stressed about teaching your kids history from a lost planet when your current concerns are not being eaten by something with 19 legs and 4 buttholes? Don't think so.

On if the other Siren entities are as influential to their hosts as The Leech -

I touch on it a wee bit throughout LL, but the others are FAR more passive and meld more to their host's whims. The Firehawk Siren wouldn't.. like.. care? If the host was burning down a planet or fighting off an evil corporation? They are removed from any nonsense happening on this side, they might not even really be able to tell, it's like asking an amoeba or a collection of sentient atomic particles what its opinion is on Brexit. That's not really its priority. The Leech is so aggressive in its control of the twins and desperation to drive them towards an outcome it desires only cause it's split, broken, removed from the song, and completely lost. We're talking a caged, half-mad animal removed from its natural environment and left totally isolated from its own kind for millennia. It's in pain, it's confused, it wants to find its way back to the song and the others and where it belongs, but it's stopped by a barrier it can't comprehend ( the twins and being ripped between them), so in its impotent rage it feeds back that hatred onto them. It's not really sentient in the way we would describe functional intelligence, but it wants, and craves, and FEELS. And it feels very, very angry.

Big thanks to @undergoingcalibrations for talking through so much of this with me!

Asks are Open!