#i hope your blogs to be not dusty as mine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mikathemonster · 23 days ago

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"scholars and skillets"

author's note: here I am after so long, with yet another THAUC pic to bring you all, thanks to @fellowshipofthefics ! it's definitely shorter than last year's, but I love it all the same. my partner (@AnnArtThing on instagram) also made an insanely gorgeous art piece for this, which i will feature below!! we truly hope you enjoy this collaboration!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 5596

summary: when you're tasked with helping prepare a certain dwarven prince for his brother's accession to the throne, you're quick to discover he is not at all how you envisioned he would be…

content warnings: fluff :)

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

You sneezed from the sheer amount of dust in the library. Between the cobwebs, ash and grime that littered the shelves and texts before you, your trusty duster truly had its work cut out for it. Covering your face with your sleeve this time, you continued your job of cleaning the recently excavated room. It would take some time, but you were determined to have this place spotless by the end of the month.

“We found some more books we need organized,” a voice called, and your attention was snapped away from your cleaning.

“Hm?” You asked, seeing it was Balin and Ori, arms full of heavy scripts. “Oh, place them over there and I’ll see to it myself.”

The dwarves did as you instructed and made their way to the nearby table, albeit with a few hefty grunts from Ori. The moment they set the books down, dust scattered everywhere, ensuing a fit of sneezing and coughing from all three of you.

“It’s never ending!” Ori complained.

You covered your mouth as you let out a rather dusty cough. “Trust a dragon to leave such a mess!”

“Aye, and a dead one at that.” Balin sighed. “I’ll get some more help for this room by tomorrow.”

“That would certainly be much appreciated,” you said.

“If it meant there would be this much work, I would have never found this room.” Ori groaned, wiping down a chair before sitting in it.

“There’s always work to be done, Ori,” Balin chided. “And moping about won’t get it done.”

“Still, I’m grateful that you did find it,” you chimed in. “It’s a lot to do, but these are some of the oldest recorded texts of Erebor. We’re standing in a room of nothing but history!”

“Well it’s rather dusty history for now,” Ori frowned.

“Well, laddie, if you won’t help, why don’t you go find someone who will? Hm?” Balin raised a brow as he ushered Ori out, who begrudgingly left.

You watched the younger dwarf leave with a frown on his face, now standing alone with Balin in a certainly awkward silence.

“Is he alright?” You asked with a concerned tone.

“He’s still just a boy,” Balin sighed, leaning on the table. “But I suppose it doesn’t help that he’s been Thorin’s scribe all week.”

“Is that not your job?”

“It usually is,” he nodded. “But it’s high time he began learning the more difficult parts of the trade. Following the King around is no easy task.”

“But why not you? I have my belief in Ori, sure, but to have him take on this role at such a time as this?”

“I suggested it.” Balin smiled. “He’ll have to learn hands-on somehow, with the ascension coming up with the next moon. We’ve only thirty days from now.”

“But I worry about him,” you frowned. “It’s a much heavier workload than he’s used to. Surely he could’ve started learning after the Crown Prince takes his title?”

Balin sat down in Ori’s chair, motioning for you to join him. Abandoning your duster with a sigh, you reluctantly took a seat.

“I remember when you first arrived,” Balin said. “You were so young–”

“I recall being entirely grown,” you interrupted.

Balin waved you off. “When you’ve lived a life such as mine, everyone is young.”

You let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in your chair.

“As I was saying,” he began again. “You could barely manage on your own. Being under my wing certainly helped, of course, but you were a fickle thing. You’re no dwarf, either; you couldn’t even speak our language when we first met.”

Unaware of where he was going with this, you tried to defend yourself, feeling belittled. “I was well enough to lend a helping hand. This library wouldn’t even be complete if it hadn’t been for me. And my khuzdul is much better than it used to be!”

“Aye, and if it hadn’t been for those texts you found in the ruins of Dale, I doubt we would’ve ever met.” He drew in a breath. “What I’m trying to say is that we all start somewhere.”

He put a hand on your shoulder, giving a warm smile. “For you, it was those books. For Ori, it was the journey that got us here. And now that we’re finally picking ourselves back up from the wreckage, it’s time that both of you fill into your roles.”

“And what have we been doing this entire time?” You said.

“Well, just a wee bit of practice, I suppose.” He teased. “Now it’s time for the real work. The royal work.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call dusting ‘royal’, but–”

“That’s not what I mean, dear.” He interrupted.

“I don’t understand–”

“I’m having you help prepare one of the princes for the ascension ceremony.”

You gave a double take, now at a loss for words. This was entirely out of your realm. You were just a scribe, a scholar. You were certainly no royal advisor, let alone for dwarven royalty.

“Balin, I’m not even a dwarf.” You started.

“I’m sure he won’t hold that against you,” Balin chuckled. “And, don’t worry, I’ve already gone through the proper channels to get you this job.”

“With the King? Thorin Oakenshield is aware of this?”

“Aye, even he,” Balin nodded. “It took some convincing, but there’s no other I would ask for such a thing. Other than his mother, but Dís has got her hands full already.”

“No other? Balin, we’ve only known each other for a few years now!”

“And in that time, you’ve proven yourself time and time again that you’re someone I can trust.”

You took a breath, settling yourself with this new information. You had only been working under Balin for a little under three years after helping restore some dwarven texts. Without Ori or Balin, you always felt out of your depth. Sure, you did your best to manage on your own, but growing up in Lake-Town, Erebor and its culture and customs had fallen to story and legend before you had become a scholar in their studies.

“What exactly will I be doing?”

“Thorin’s nephews are finally ready to take their places in the royal court. But while Fíli is preparing to be announced as Crown Prince, there’s a certain amount of duties that get passed along to Kíli.” Balin explained. “It’ll be your job to assist me in discussing and preparing him for those duties.”

“And what would those duties be?”

“I’m getting there, aren’t I?” Balin frowned.

You bit your tongue, now giving him the floor instead of asking him more questions.

Balin sighed, seeing the anxiety written all over you. “Are you afraid?”

“It’s just… I don’t know if I… That’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think? I just don’t believe I’m qualified.”

Balin rose from his seat, now standing in front of you with both hands on your shoulders. You looked at your mentor with worried eyes as he did his best to reassure you with his own warm gaze. The candle on the dusty table flickered, the light reflecting in his dark eyes, full of kindness.

“Y/N, you’ve proven yourself to be one of my fastest learners. I see the way you work to restore this library as if it were your own. You know our history, you’ve read it yourself.”

“Only for the last few years-”

“And nobody will hold it against you. I will be there to help, of course. You won’t be entirely on your own, and I’ll teach you everything.”

What Balin had chosen to omit was that Thorin Oakenshield wouldn’t have allowed you to be Kíli’s only advisor. You may have been a scholar, but you were no dwarf. But Balin knew better than to mention that.

“I have no doubt that you’re the perfect candidate for the job.”

You still didn’t know if you believed him, but you knew you believed in him. And for now, that would have to be enough. You gave him a small nod and smile as a sign that you were listening.

“Aye, there they are,” he smiled. “Come, I’ll show you everything you’ll need to do before you start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You rose out of your seat. “But what about the library?”

“There’s always someone we can put to work. Besides, it doesn’t take much to clean a dusty shelf.”

“Easy for you to say; I’ve been at it all morning!”

Balin began walking away, waving an arm as he expected you to follow him. Reluctantly, you finally gave in. It seemed today was going to be a long one.

Long was an incredible understatement. You hadn’t been a coffee-drinker before this, but suddenly you were three cups deep without any sleep as you stood next to Balin outside of the prince’s door. All you could think about were the copious amounts of notes you had taken overnight.

“It’s all been a bit bureaucratic lately, with the salvaging process,” Balin had said last night while handing you three enormously thick books. “But the old ways are all written down in here. For now, it’s best to study what you can before you meet the prince.”

You had been under the impression he would teach you all of this, but he had insisted you read some of it first. You had taken vigorous notes, doing your best to commit as much of it to memory as you could, but even now your brain felt like a soupy muddled mess as Balin knocked three times on the oaken door in front of you.

It was still early in the morning, a time Balin had insisted on, and the halls of Erebor were only just beginning to sound with their typical business and hustle.

You felt utterly spent and still completely unprepared. It was like cramming for a class you had never taken. You still weren’t even convinced you were the right person for the job. Even though Balin had explained you would be taking more of an assistant’s role to him, you felt wildly out of your league.

A sigh escaped you as you watched Balin knock on the door again.

He gave you a once-over followed by a frown. “Y/N, I told you that you needed rest.”

“I wanted to be prepared, I’ll be fine.” You shook your head.

“Prepared is one thing, but it’s only your first day. You look miserable.” He knocked on the door again, casting a worried look to you. “Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat? I can take care of this for a little while before you join us.”

“This is important, I don’t want to miss anything,” you frowned.

“You’ll miss more if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Balin, I promise I’ll be alright.” You insisted on staying, much to Balin’s dismay.

He let out a sigh, knowing you were just as stubborn as his brother.

“Alright, I trust you. But I’m a little concerned.” He turned back to the door, now annoyed as he knocked for the third time. “Kíli, wake up before I go in there myself.”

A loud groan sounded through the wooden door followed by silence before it eventually opened, revealing a very tired dark-haired prince. His hair was mussed and tangled and some of it was stuck to his mouth. His eyes could barely stay open as he was still coming to life. And to top it all of, he was still in his sleepwear, which was oversized and hanging off of his shoulder as he leaned against the door.

“Balin, I thought we said we’d do this in the afternoon,” he groaned, still groggy with sleep.

Balin frowned, unamused. “I told you we would be here at sunrise. You said you’d be awake.”

“I lied,” he shot a lazy grin before looking over at you. “And who’s this?”

“This is Y/N, they’re helping me with preparing-”

“Oh, so you’re the librarian!” Kíli smiled, seemingly remembering who you were. Which was strange, because you two had never met. And you certainly wouldn’t call yourself a librarian.

“I’m sorry?” You raised a brow.

“Ori told me about you, he said you tend to that room he found?”

“Oh, right. Yes, I have been in charge of that…” You nodded. He wasn’t technically wrong, but you tended to align yourself more with the term of scholar rather than librarian.

“Listen, Kíli,” Balin interjected. “Get yourself settled, we’re on a busy schedule for today.”

Kíli groaned again and you came to realize that he was not matching the image of him you had conjured up in your head. It was hard to believe that this lazy dwarf was the same Prince who had joined Balin on his journey to Erebor.

“Alright, alright. Give me a few minutes, I’ll get dressed.” He shut the door on both of you and you couldn’t hide the frown on your face.

“Is he usually like this?” You asked Balin, keeping as delicate a tone as possible.

“He sleeps like a mountain now that he has a soft bed every night,” Balin sighed. “But he’s never been a morning person. In any case, now we can get started.”

You nodded in response, choosing to withhold any opinions you currently had about the younger Prince of Erebor. First impressions could always change, after all. Surely it would serve you better to erase the idea of his lazy behavior from your mind. You didn’t know him personally; perhaps he simply just wasn’t a morning person.

Suddenly the door was open again, this time with a much more well-kept Prince behind it. You had to stop yourself from doing a double take; he looked like an entirely different person to you now.

His brown hair was now smoother and brushed and slightly swept out of his face, save for his bangs. Fine dwarven fabric hung from his shoulders as he stepped outside of his room and you had to stop yourself from staring. His brown eyes seemed much more full of life now that he was finally dressed and his face was clean. Altogether, he suddenly looked a lot more royal than before.

“Well, that took you long enough,” Balin commented.

“Beauty can do that, yes,” Kíli retorted with a rather cheeky smirk. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Well, time waits on no one, much less beauty,” Balin sighed, adjusting his belt as he began trailing away. “Come along now, there’s much to do.”

A few hours passed by and the day quickly became more and more draining, each minute feeling longer than the last. You felt like you were melting into a puddle of exhausted slop with each step you took, your feet sore after how much walking you three had done. Honestly, you were sure you had walked at least seven or eight miles by now. And while it may have been nothing to the likes of Balin or even Kíli, it was truly starting to wear you down.

It was your own fault, really. You should have taken Balin’s earlier offer to run off and get yourself some food. Or perhaps have gotten a good night’s rest the previous night. You were all out of sorts and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed in yourself. You had been so focused on studying that you had forgotten to take care of yourself, and look where it had gotten you. Balin was right.

By now, Balin had taken the two of you on a tour of sorts, bringing Kíli to important halls and rooms of Erebor while explaining and delegating what new tasks would fall to him once his brother took his role as the Crown Prince. From the throne room to the forges, there was always something new for Kíli to learn or expound upon. Many of his new tasks weren’t all that unfamiliar to him, as his mother had been helping prepare him for this. But as much as you wanted to be present and fully soak up all of this knowledge as Balin’s assistant, you were utterly spent. Your feet felt stiff like bricks as you trudged along behind Kíli and Balin and the dark circles under your eyes were becoming more apparent with each passing hour. Neither of them had noticed your condition until you three were finally alone.

There you were, in an empty hall of the library while Balin was explaining to Kíli what would be expected of him at the ascension ceremony itself, arms full of a script with pictures depicting a ceremony long past, when your stomach suddenly let out an embarrassingly loud grumble. Your eyes widened and you clutched your stomach in a panic, as if it would somehow muffle the noise. But itt didn’t.

You were horrified. Speechless, even. Balin sighed, leaving Kíli confused as to why something as trivial as this would even warrant a reaction.

“Y/N…” Balin said. “If you need to eat, I’m sure I can handle him myself.”

Kíli scoffed, slightly offended at his words. “Well, you’re the one who’s been going nonstop without any break. I would be hungry too!”

“And are you?” Balin raised an unamused brow.

All eyes were on Kíli as he looked down, almost embarrassed to admit defeat.

“...Yes.”

Balin set the book down on the table beside him, running a hand to his temple. You frowned, not liking his annoyed demeanor, but in truth it was all directed at Kíli.

“Well then, I suppose we can take a short break. I’ll be up in the Archives for now. Return in an hour after you properly feed yourselves.”

“An hour? What’s the rush?” Kíli’s jaw dropped, appalled at the idea of a quick meal.

“I won’t give you any royal treatment, Kíli,” Balin countered. “We’re far past formalities.”

“Aw, come on, even a normal person would want more time. I might be technically royal but–”

“Aye, and a royal pain at that,” Balin sighed. “Two hours. And then I want you both back and ready to get to work.”

You nodded eagerly, grateful even for the first hour. “And we will, of course. Thank you.”

“We’ll be back before you know it!” Kíli chimed in.

Balin rolled his eyes, waving you two off as he began his own journey up to the Archives of the library. You watched him go before turning to exit, planning on going to your room to cook when suddenly a hand tapped your shoulder; you turned to see Kíli now throwing you a grin.

“Come on, let’s go,” He motioned to the exit with his head.

“I was going–” You tried to explain but were quickly cut off.

“To eat by yourself?”

“Well I have–”

“Come on; we’ve only got so much time and we haven’t had any to get to know each other.”

You pursed your lip, not feeling too keen to have your plans derailed. But it didn’t feel right to decline a royal, even one as childish as him.

“I wanted to cook at home.”

“Even better! Home-cooked meals are the best!”

You sighed. He would not give in.

“I don’t know if I have enough in my pantry to share…” You tried your best to give one last excuse, but he was quicker.

“How about I grab some of my own food and meet you at your house? We can combine the ingredients and make something delicious.”

For a silent moment, you could only look at his stupid grin while you weighed your options. But you weren’t averse to more food being offered and he clearly didn’t seem to take any negative answer.

“Fine.” You caved. “But please be quick about it. I don’t want to waste this time waiting on you and I mean that as politely as possible.”

He chuckled at your politely rude comment, leaving the library first to what you assumed was his own home.

One hurried walk later, you had finally gotten home and begun preparing your meal. All you had left were some vegetables from your weekly visit to the market and some rice. Rather good options to be stuck with, if you thought about it. It seemed a delicious stir fry would be your meal today.

Quickly, you got to work on cleaning your vegetables, a mixture of squash and greens, before chopping them up in your kitchen. A heavy knock sounded at your door and you set your cutting knife down to go answer it.

You swung the door open and soon reality hit you. Kíli, one of Erebor’s Princes, was standing outside your front door holding a clothed bundle of something and you had no idea how he had gotten here.

“I don’t recall telling you where I live,” you said aloud, but softly as though it was supposed to only be heard by your ears.

“Ori told me,” Kíli explained. “And that’s not usually how you answer the door, if I remember.”

His wit snapped you out of your reverie and you quickly allowed him inside. But you weren’t exactly thrilled at his news.

“And why did Ori tell you where I live, if I may ask?”

“You may.” He chuckled at that comment. You didn’t find it funny. He quickly realized that.

“It came up when we were discussing Balin’s newest pupil. Ori mentioned how you had been living here for quite some time when I said how far the traveling was from here to Dale.”

You sighed, nodding. “You thought I was from Dale.”

It made sense, after all. You weren’t a dwarf.

“A stupid comment on my behalf, truly,” he tried to save the conversation, finally revealing what he had in his hands. “I hope these will add to whatever you’re already preparing.”

You looked down to see thick cut bacon and a sealed bottle of ale. The good stuff too, this was definitely higher quality than you were used to. You could already feel your mouth salivating at the idea of such a tasty meat in your stir fry. A small bit of ale would also enhance the flavor and even add some new ones.

“These are actually very promising,” you said, once again aloud but more so to yourself. Still, he heard you.

“That’s what I was hoping for.” He smiled up at you. “So what are we making?”

You walked past him, now making your way back to your kitchen. He followed suit, albeit after removing his shoes. That seemed to be one of his few redeeming qualities.

“I have the rice cooking now, but I need to finish cutting the vegetables and get the bacon cooking so it’s ready to be added by the time the rice is done.”

“Sounds great! How can I help?”

You froze for a moment, now realizing there was another living being in your kitchen. This wasn’t exactly a common situation for you. In fact, you liked your cooking how you liked your work in the library: alone.

But who would you be to tell a Prince that? And especially a Prince who had brought over such fine ingredients… You were caught between a rock and a hard place, and it was time to make a choice.

Gingerly, you stepped farther from the chopping block and closer to your hearth. You only had two hours to eat; it only made sense to let him help.

“You can cut everything and I will cook it.” You nodded as you spoke, as if you were still trying to get yourself on board with the idea. You honestly couldn’t recognize if it was working or not, but Kíli was happy to lend a helping hand. And quite ready to get started too, as his hunger was starting to get to him.

“Great, then let’s get started.” He eagerly grabbed the knife, chopping your squash in such an indelicate way that you could do nothing other than watch with eyes wide open, mouth ajar. None of these pieces of squash were the same size. Or even the same shape, for that matter! It was like he was chopping them all willy-nilly without any air of culinary prowess.

Something inside of you snapped and you knew you had to say something. You couldn’t help it!

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” You spoke slowly, still processing the horror in front of you.

Kíli wasn’t exactly thrilled about your attitude, either, but he did his best to dismiss it. “I’m helping… I’m cutting this squash.”

“But you’re not even dicing it—“

“I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

“It’s going with rice, I feel as though you should want to cut it smaller.”

“Does it matter? It’s all going to end up being eaten, isn’t it?” His tone was sterner, now getting more upset.

“But it needs to be small enough to blend with the rice,” you countered. “Otherwise it’s rice with squash on the side.”

“These pieces aren’t that big—“

“They’re chunks! They’re chunky, look at them!”

“I’m the one cutting, I’m sure I can clearly see that’s they’re perfectly fine pieces—“

“Have you ever even used a kitchen knife?”

“Have you ever tried letting someone do so before you critique their cutting abilities?!”

And suddenly, a loud grumble rang out from your stomach, effectively shutting the both of you up. You let out a breath, rationalizing with yourself as you realized there was no reason to be this upset at such a tiny thing. You weren’t someone who typically enjoyed sharing your space with a stranger all that much. Being practically starving wasn’t doing you any favors, either. But it was certainly embarrassing. Demeaning, even. Truly, you were hangry.

You looked away from the Prince in your kitchen, staring blankly at the boiling rice in front of you. A sigh left your lips before you turned back to face him.

“I’m sorry,” you nodded. “Let’s just work on getting this cooked.”

Kíli nodded, having realized the same thing as you; both of you were hangry and yelling at each other for no reason.

“I’ll cut them smaller,” he said quietly, referencing the squash.

You let out a small nod, returning to your pot of boiling rice that you stirred. “Thank you.”

For a while, you two coexisted in the kitchen in silence; Kíli cut the vegetables and the bacon while you added it to a wok for cooking, the sizzle of the ingredients hitting the pan filling the quiet of the room. Without needing to be told, Kíli uncorked the ale, handing it over to you as you tossed a splash into the pan. Steam rose and the smell hit your nostrils with a cozy aroma as the meat and veggies cooked in the pan.

Finally, after adding in the rice and seasoning it to your liking, the dish was done. With a soft smile, you plated the food into two wooden bowls, offering one to Kíli.

“It looks amazing,” he commented. It seemed you had both calmed down some since your argument. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“I just fetched some water yesterday,” you answered. “The cups are in the cupboard.”

He picked up the bottle of ale, still quite full. “There’s also this, if we wanted. What do you say?”

You frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We have to be back in a little more than an hour.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. “But I doubt one glass will hurt anyone.”

You watched as he poured himself a cup before leaving to go sit at your dining table. A part of you would’ve been tempted to have some yourself, but Balin and your empty stomach would disapprove. You would be satisfied with just this; your body needed it.

Kíli joined you at the table with a smile, quite excited to eat. You watched him as he sat down, taking notice of his beauty as he tucked his hair behind his ears. He was very pretty, even by your standards. You wondered how you hadn’t seen it before. But then again, you had been distracted by his laziness and childish mannerisms, not to mention the previous argument.

You two began to eat in silence, sharing a meal in a comfortable quiet that was occasionally broken whenever Kíli would gulp down his ale. For his sake, you hoped he wasn’t a lightweight.

“How much longer do we have?” He asked in between bites.

“An hour, I think?” You shrugged. “It’s probably smart to leave once we’re done.”

“In a rush?”

“I don’t like to keep Balin waiting. I respect him too much for that.”

“I see. You’ve been working with him for a while now, haven’t you?”

You looked up at him, realizing he was actually making conversation. A part of you was surprised, but you didn’t know why.

“It’s been a few years now,” you answered.

“Do you like it? Working with him, I mean.” Kíli smiled at you, his warm eyes catching the light of the candles on your table.

It was alluring.

“I do,” you admitted, smiling at the thought. “He’s very kind. And funny, in his old way. He’s taken care of me for a while.”

“Has he?”

“He’s always looking out for me, but he also doesn’t let me shy away from chances where I could grow.” You sighed, looking at your food. “I look up to him a lot.”

“Well,” Kíli took another swig of his drink. “You certainly sound a lot more grateful than Ori does.”

“That can’t be true,” you chuckled. “What does Ori say?”

“It would be easier to list what he doesn’t say,” he joked. “He’s always going on about his workload being too much. He’s either cleaning the library or running around on Balin’s orders.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “He’s just ranting, I’m sure. He can get frustrated rather quickly but we all know he loves his work.”

“He does, it’s true.” Kíli laughed to himself. “He loves working with you, from what I hear.”

“Does he?” You raised a brow, your interest now piqued as you took another bite of food.

He nodded, chewing his own mouthful before continuing. “Nowadays he’s always talking about how helpful you are to him; he thinks you know the library better than him now. I remember him mentioning you when you two first met, my brother and I could’ve swore he had a crush on you.”

“A crush?” You choked on your food, hitting your chest to clear up before trying to eat again.

Kíli held back his laughter, bearing a smile so wide it captured the light around you. “Yes, he must have!”

“I highly doubt–”

“He would go on and on about how pretty you were, how you dressed, or you smelled. One time we couldn’t get him to stop talking about ‘the librarian’s hair’ as if he were some star-struck child!”

Your cheeks were feeling warm by now and you were sure it wasn’t due to the hot food in front of you.

“I don’t know how to feel about that,” you admitted. “He’s sweet, but I’ve never realized–”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s passed by now,” he said quickly in an attempt to reassure you. “He really just doesn’t get out much. None of us do, really. We’re all so busy trying to keep this place running and back to its former glory.”

“I see,” you nodded, now feeling a little relieved. Things would feel so awkward if Ori actually did have a crush on you. You certainly were fond of him, but not in that way.

“He wasn’t wrong, though,” Kíli said softly, snapping you out of your thoughts as you met his gaze.

“I’m sorry?”

“I just…” He trailed off, looking back down at his food. It seemed like he wasn’t expecting you to hear him as his face started turning red.

You in turn looked down at your own food, confused by his behavior. You gave him one last look, seeing his eyes meet your own.

“He wasn’t wrong. You’re beautiful.”

You froze, the room completely silent save for the crackling of the candles. Here you were sharing a meal with a Prince who had just told you he found you beautiful. Admittedly, it was all a bit much.

You gave a nervous laugh, fixing your posture in your seat as you shoved another forkful of food into your mouth. You chewed and swallowed, nodding as you tried to horse down the rest of your meal.

“Balin should be expecting us soon. We should hurry up,” you said, refusing to make eye contact as you ate.

Kíli smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before returning to his own food.

“Right, we wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

You two managed to make it back in time, arriving to see Balin’s nose stuffed in one of the thickest books you had ever had the fortune of seeing. The rest of the day was long as the tour continued, but you had caught Kíli stealing a few choice glances your way whenever Balin wasn’t looking. You were caught off guard, sure, but you weren’t entirely averse to the attention. It was something new. Nice, even, and it made you think that perhaps this dwarf wasn’t entirely as ridiculous as you thought.

Of course, what you didn’t know was that he was almost certainly even more ridiculous than you took him for. But that certainly wouldn’t dissuade him from trying his best to capture your attention.

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clearlydusty · 9 months ago

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| ABOUT ME |

Hello!

I’ve been seeing on people’s pages they like to post a small about me section, so I thought I’d do that, too.

A few things about me personally …

• You can call me Dusty, for that is my username, clearly.

• My pronouns are He/Him 🏳️‍⚧️ and while I’m not sure what my sexuality is, I’m pretty sure the one I closely identify with the best is (Cupio?) AroAce.

• I am NOT an adult, so keep that in mind when interacting with me n’ stuff. (Minor? I hardly know her! Agagagagagaa)

What will I post?

• I make art, all the art I post is mine. I might make a separate blog that I will use for reposting and stuff tho.

• I usually post fully done art, but from time to time I might post small sketches of like my Ocs or of characters I like.

• I am a multifandom-er, so I here’s a list of things I might draw/post about (and just things I like in gen) :

ANIMES AND TV SHOWS

- Ace Attorney (as of current, the first two games)

- Mob Psycho 100

- Danganronpa (anime AND games)

- Saiki K

- Death Note

- Chainsaw Man (As of current I’m on volume 10)

- Neon Genesis Evangellion

- Sk8 to the Infinity

- Attack on Titan

- Hunter X Hunter

- Puella Magi Madoka Magica (series)

- Merlin (BBC)

- Good Omens

- ALIEN STAGE

- The amazing digital circus

- Demon Slayer (haven’t seen last two arcs : sunset countdown and infinity castle)

- Gakuen Handsome

- Arcane

GAMES

- Five Nights at Freddy’s

- Hatsune Miku : Colorful stage (Project Sekai)

- Genshin Impact

- honkai starrail

- Sally Face

- Omori

- Baulders Gate

- Life is strange (only 1 and 2)

- Red Dead Redemption 2

- Dead Plate

- the last of us

- your turn to die

- resident evil (4,7,8)

- Mouthwashing

• I DO NOT SUPPORT PROSHIPPERS, RACISTS, HOMOPHOBES, TRANSPHOBES, MISOGYNISTS, ANY OF THAT HATEFUL AND GROSS STUFF. IF YOU ARE ANY OF THESE THIS IS NOT THE PAGE FOR YOU, PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL AND LEAVE ME ALONE.

Thank you for following me and liking my posts! I’m sorry that I’m a slow posters as of current. I’m in the exam part of highschool rn so I might not be able to post a lot in April/May for like the next few years. I’m hoping to be able to start doing commissions for people, but I think it’s too early for that.

Thanks for reading ! 🩷

CURRENT DRAWING FIXATION : Mouthwashing, Attack on titan, Danganronpa all games, SK8 the infinity, Arcane

#you don’t have to like this post lol it’s just an intro #check my art out if you’re interested tho!#new artist #blog intro

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retrowaving1 · 1 year ago

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I noticed people creating such descriptions on Tumblr, I assumed that I could do the same so that the people who visit my blog would be less confused about what they're seeing here. After all, I'm really open to communication, but it's probably better if you know what to expect from me:)

So, who the h am I?

> Obviously, Ohiko Amok is not my real name. I don't want to go by my real name on the internet unless it comes up in conversation with my mutuals.

> I'm a person of many professions: (1) personal tutor teaching adults with dyslexia, adhd, Asperger's etc.; to speak English (2) Marketing professional; (3) Graphic designer;

> I have lots of hobbies; I like cooking (I'll gladly exchange recipes with anyone interested in mine), I like painting and drawing (both digitally and traditionally), I do yoga, I like reading (and sometimes even writing) and I like learning about skin issues (lol, I even have a certificate that I finished a course teaching about acne and how to properly deal with it xd). I also play a number of very simple computer games and enjoy board games, but I wouldn't call myself an enthusiast of neither. What I do adore is music - I'm the only person in my family who haven't had any musical trainings in the past, but I do have a strong appreciation for music.

My taste in music is very vast and it'll be difficult to limit it to one genre or a group of artists, but I can easily name some of the most influential performers for me: Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Leonard Cohen, Dusty Springfield, Judy Garland, Fleetwood Mac, Czesław Niemen, Marek Grechuta, Magda Umer, Tori Amos, Volodymyr Ivasyuk, Okean Elzy, Skryabin, Shocking Blue..

I would love to bond over music with anyone with similar tastes <3

> I do not identify myself through pronouns, sexuality, belonging to a certain movement. I think all of those labels are secondary and often limit person to a certain degree. Biologically, I'm a woman. I'm bisexual, but I do not consider myself to be a part of LGBTQ community. I'm not religious. I'm not a feminist of any kind. I have my own strong ideas developed through the years living in a certain context, my own preferences and worldview, but I don't want to label them in any way, as it seems redundant.

> I come from Poland<3 Currently, I live in the Eastern Part of the country.

If at some point you might get confused by my posts' being inspired by both Polish and Ukrainian popular culture and historical background, it's because I was born in Ukraine (albeit in a Polish family) and feel a strong connection and love to both countries.

> Since I've started to post on Tumblr regularly, I very often get some horny messages (i'm talking about real people, not porn bots), so here's one bit of information which I feel obliged to add to my account description: I'm currently engaged and I'm not looking for any relationships aside from friendly ones!

> I don't reply to messages in russian

> I've recently created another blog called @retrowaving-vents to just write random stuff and repost meme I find funny. Welcome, if you are interested in some random stream of consciousness.

Cheers, if you've managed to read this whole post, I hope you'll enjoy the content I post on this account<3 Feel free to ask any questions that might come to your mind, I really like talking xd

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safety-pin-punk · 2 years ago

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Heyo! I've got some questions and I was hoping if you'd have the answers to them :]

1.) I watched Across the Spiderverse and when Hobie showed up I was like "woah!!! He's cool!!"

Now I've been researching the punk scene and I was wondering if it's okay that I'm kinda starting out being a punk (for lack of better term) cause of a fictional character?

2.) Do the vests/battle jackets always have to be black and/or denim/leather? I've got a vest that I'm working on and it's a dusty green and basically the farthest thing from denim/leather, so is that fine or??

(btw thank you sm for answering questions, your blog is amazing and has been very helpful)

Heyo!! I’ve got some answers for you!! And thank you! I love being helpful when I can 😅☺️!

1. It is COMPLETELY fine that you are getting into/interested in the punk scene because of a fictional character. Matter of fact, getting into punk for ANY reason is completely fine. Everyone starts somewhere, ans honestly I think Spider Punk is a pretty cool thing to have turned you punk

(Side note: anyone who disagrees can fuck off. Its not about why someone is a punk, its about how they do it. If they actually care about punk values, then we should be welcoming them with open arms)

2. There are very very very few rules when it comes to battle jackets. While leather and denim are by far the most common, they are by no means the only fabric you can use. And they also dont have to be dark colors! (Mine is actually a pretty light denim color). So moral of the story: what you’ve got is fine, you shouldn’t have to spend a lot of money for the right clothes to be a punk

#mail tag #punk #punx #punk culture

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aintmyjewelry · 8 months ago

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hi! 💗 sorry to bother you, but you’re seriously one of my favorite blogs and one of the ppl who made me rly want to get into vinyls! 💕 but i have no idea where to start, so i wanted to ask what record player/speakers you use? (and ik they’re not all available still, but what taylor vinyl you think is the prettiest?)

omg im so sorry im getting to this so late!! I saw this when I was out running errands and then it slipped my mind to answer so I do apologize for this late response!

you are not bothering me at all!! I love talking about vinyl so I'm happy to (hopefully) help!

when it comes to my equipment, I use an Audio-Technica record playing (here is a link to the website). My record player from them is like at least 10 years old at this point so it doesn't appear to be available anymore. but the AT-LP60X record player appears to be one of their most basic players which is probably similar to what I own. Unfortunately, I am not sure about what kind of speakers I have. they're pretty generic I think. much of my set-up was a gift but I know mine are fairly small and slim and can easily sit on my shelves so I don't think you need to dive into buying huge, powerful speakers right away! so I guess I would start with looking into Audio-Technica players first and maybe Amazon for small external speakers. I think any sort of speaker with a cord should be able to connect to the Audio-Technica players. I wouldn't recommend one of those Crosley suitcase record players, I find that they always skip when I'm playing records so they may not be the best but I know they are very affordable when compared to other players so if you do just want to try it out and see how much you use it and listen to vinyl it wouldn't be the end of the world. I would just maybe suggest eventually upgrading!

Also, no matter what you choose, look into record care kits. This is one from Audio-Technica, you don't have to buy this one specifically but something along these lines would be good. Mainly, I think that brush is the most important and you use it when ur record is playing and gently brush it on top to collect any dust or hairs from the actual vinyl record. big thing I think to have if you have pets who shed! my dog's hair clings to my vinyl like crazy.

And to protect your records individually I would suggest looking into plastic sleeves for them. there's a bunch of different ones out there and everyone has their opinion on what's best. I use pretty generic brand ones. There's so many on Amazon to look for.

As for my favorite taylor vinyl pressing I loooove my Betty's Garden folklore pressing, it's like a dusty purple/pink color, but it is out of print so my second favorite has to be the tangerine 1989 (Taylor's version) target exclusive! it's such a pretty hue. and it's still pretty readily available! the two-colored lover vinyls are great also and the crystal clear TTPD pressing is sooooo cool!!

well I'm sorry this turned into an essay but I hope it's a little helpful!! I'm glad to hear you're getting into vinyls, I love them so much, they're one of my favorite things to collect!!

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bloglnor · 3 months ago

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October 1st LNOR UPDATES

It's been a busy month since my last blog post so let me share with you my updates!

1.) LNOR LLC is active! I have officially started my business and have transitioned from lnordraws to lnorllc or LNOR LLC on my social media.

2.) www.lnorllc.com is the new link to my site. You can still get to the site through www.lnorillustration.com until next may!

3.) STORE LNOR on my website has been created! I will be posting more items to the shop such as jewelry, prints, stickers, zines, and so much more. When one-of-a-kind items become available, its first come first serve, so put in that order form when you see it! My methods of starting my shop is a bit analog feeling, I am in control of every part of the transactions as I get my start. This is explained in the order form in the STORE LNOR section on my website. If you find it confusing, just email me at [email protected] and you can order through there! I'll be working on this as I figure out how it'll work and in response to my audience.

Now for life and work things...

LNOR LIVE has successfully appeared at two events with positive feedback and excitement! I connected with my local Peoria scene at Friendly Valley Tavern for their Makers Market. I felt well received and was shown opportunity to come! I'm hopeful that I can make something happen for me here in Peoria...!

Sean Kenny and Devin C Williams with the LIVE ART I made at Friendly Valley!

Secondly, I painted live and did caricatures at a rooftop event at Skender Construction in Chicago for a charity concert for Women Build. This event made me feel great and confident, and excited for my connection in Chicago!

The view, the band, and the art. I'll be finalizing this painting, it was purchased by one of the band members of Superheat.

I am meeting people that are showing me how I can make art my career; people who understand my vision. My family supports me fully heartedly and I can't wait to give back to them with everything I want to achieve in art.

I'll be posting more about my art processes with art I'm creating, and ideas I have for it. I would love to find community through this blog, I am open to critique, conversation, and collaboration. Looking forward to being active in my business and taking it as far as I can.

Thank you for your support!!

Love,

LNOR

P.S Celebrated my 24th birthday recently, had an awesome day with my best friend Kelly, we went to Tails animal shelter in DeKalb! Then me and my partner Blake spend the night in Naperville (after our original plan to see Porter Robison got cancelled >:(, but had a wonderful time, with dinner at Mod Pizza and birthday party at Astro Fun World in Aurora. Our matching outfits were so cute, hopefully we will get to wear them to a real concert lol!

Enjoyed the Red and Black Classic marching band competition at NIU, it was windy but the bands were great, very talented. Huskie Marching band never disappoints, go to an NIU game just to see them!! Another best friend of mine Eduardo took me to dinner and us and friends went to karaoke later that night. So happy to have been celebrated so kindly by my friends. xoxo

Me and Dusty the cat! + LNOR and Blake (and Simon, his car)

#artist #bloglnor #live artist #lnor #peoria #lnor llc #chicago artist #peoria artist #illustrator #art collab #art critique

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wip-okae · 6 days ago

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Okay so! I went and listened to all the songs because I’m a whore for new music, especially good ones. I’m actually the anon who asked ㅠㅠ This is a personal side blog of mine, and when I was sending in the ask I couldn’t swap to this account so I was like “fuck okay anon it is”, I hope that’s okay! My main is for writing/ fandom only, and I don’t want a bunch of random internet people from over there following me here lol, sorry about that.

Anyway the point of all this yapping before I get into my actual thoughts about the songs is a roundabout way of saying, we’re mutuals! Yay! At least to me we are, bc I’m following you back (idk if it picks up on your side cuz likes and follows are coming from my main, but whatever 🤡). I info-dump this because you’ve been around for like, forever? And I’ve somehow still never interacted with you? Which feels like a crime 🤡 So I’m reaching out now bc I really like your blog and wanna be proper moots 🥹🫶🏻

✨ anyway! ✨

MUSIC. 👏 SONGS. 👏 THOUGHTS. 👏

Dust Flesh and Bones

I don’t listen to a ton of super long music because I do tend to get bored, but this song drew me in so entirely it was hard to move on from it.

As a Writer™️, this song brings words and images to brain that make it incredibly difficult not to want to sit down and write something to it 😭

Describing the song as an “apocalyptic sadness” truly takes the words out of my mouth—the music video, the album art, the dusty-sounding guitar, in what I can only imagine is a minor chord(?)… It makes me think of a movie opening: something western, probably, with a man laying in a creaky, uncomfortable block-of-a-bed with his cowboy hat covering his eyes, an overhead-camera circling around like a barely-working ceiling. You can just see the dust motes in the air, smell the alcohol on his breath… it’s grimy as shit, and I love it.

That’s the vibe of this song. To me, anyway. I love it. Perfect opener to a whole list of banger songs. Also, I like the idea of reading the title as “dust-flesh”, as in flesh that is dust-like in quality (because there’s no comma, to me it feels like it’s supposed to be one concept, which I think fits the overall vibe of the song as well).

Love Love Love

As someone who does things for love (love, love), this song is beyond perfect. I will take the time now to compliment how on-the-nail your recs are, by the way, because wtf? How are these songs all so perfectly attuned to the ask 😭 That is an insane archive to have and I commend you for it 🫡

I really like that this another guitar-heavy song. It feels personal because there’s just The Mountain Goats’ voice, the strumming of the guitar, and later into the song, those weird twinkling noises idk how to describe (forgive 💔).

This is a ‘sprawled out on your bed, staring at the ceiling at 3:34 a.m’ kinda music, and I that.

The Mechanic

This is the kind of music that changes you, so I completely understand how this made you reconsider your relationship (I hope things went well in that regard, by the way!). I love singer-songwriter (if that isn’t the genre pls smack me on the head) exactly for this kind of sound, this kind of music.

It’s so incredibly personal, especially to the artists themselves, but it still reaches deep for other people. This song is straight poetry, dude.

It’s conversation in the form of poetry, with its own little accompaniment. And that is precious in a way I find hard to put into words 🥹

The music video for this is just as precious as the song itself, btw, give it a watch if you haven’t already.

Because im bad at words when i most need them, im going to drop my favorite lines down below and you can interpret why they’re my favorite by yourself lmfao.

Basically the whole first verse. (Everything before the line below)

“Like a dog that keeps whining but you love how it sounds so you let it go hungry to hear it”

“Your shirts are all stained with the blood dripping out / and the problem gets harder to hide”

“I know you weren’t broken / I just needed something to fix”

“Like a house that’s on fire but you love how it feels so you throw in the memories to feed it”

The Goodbye Song

I LOVE MUSICALS. I KILL FOR MUSICALS. I AM MUSICALS.

*cough cough* anyway~

The live recording of this is going to be my explanation for why I love musicals and musical theatre adjacent music—do you see the fucking emotion in this man’s face. DO YOU SEE THE TEARS IN HIS FUCKING EYES.

Also, the description says George Salazar worked on tick, tick… BOOM!, which quite literally changed my life (I’m not even speaking hyperbole, I hyper fixated on that fucking movie and soundtrack so hard it was all I watched/listened to for several weeks), so thank you for indirectly bringing this to my attention.

I love his voice, I love the instrumental, I love the emotion. The lyrics are fucking amazing, they hit you right in the gut, which I’m sure was their intended purpose dksnjfisin.

I don’t know if there’s any kind of lOrE behind the lyrics, but it’s giving ‘parental figure/ guardian speaking to their child as they’re ascending to heaven/ whatever form of heaven you believe in, if any’, which, uhm ouch?? My heart? Hello? /pos

The whole latter half of this song feels like a hand ripping into your chest to personally tug on your heartstrings, which is a phenomenal feeling.

In short, thank you so much for your recommendations ㅠㅠ I actually really enjoyed listening to everything and thinking about how much I love them lmsnfisjs

I hope this is also a semi-normal(?) way of trying to befriend you lmfao if it’s not that’s my bad, I tried my best </3

Much love,

hiya! you have any somber, kind of melancholic song recs? hope you’re having a good timezone <3

AAAH- DON'T I HAVE SOME! I really love melancholic songs and how they take me to other worlds.

First of all: Matt Elliott. Man, I can ramble about this man for hours. His music inspires me so much. I personally love his songs about failed relationships and fading dreams more but this album has an apocalyptic sadness that makes me shiver. If you don't get easily bored from long songs, try giving him a try.

Let's continue with a the Mountain Goats' song. One of his most popular song 'Love Love Love' is definitely worth listening to if you haven't yet. It makes you sigh deeply with every note.

HAVE I MADE A POST ABOUT THIS MAN BEFORE?? Because Amigo is one of my idols, man... His voice feels so familiar, touches my soul like a long lost brother. His first album hooked me immediately but his latest was definitely the best one. This song actually made me reconsider my relationship with a loved one:

Last one I promise- the theater kid in me is a really big fan of George Salazar and his album with Joe Iconis. The Goodbye Song is one of the best songs in the album with how expressive George is with all the lyrics. Give it a listen, I cried like twenty times to this song

Sorry if I rambled too much, I hope you find something you like here! Have a nice day- A NICE WEEK- A NICE FUCKING YEAR <3

#forgive me for my rambles #I am in fact this awkward irl too 👍🏻#tammy!!!#🪄 moots

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farb3yond · 10 years ago

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FIRST LOVE, IN FIVE PARTS.

*Coug* *Cough* Sorry, this blog is a little dusty.

My one caveat for this poem is that it was written to be read out loud to an audience, so reading it here doesn’t quite match the intended effect.

FIRST LOVE, IN FIVE PARTS.

So I have this friend right and I heard he started seeing this girl. So when I met up with him I asked him. I said, “Hey man, how are you? What’s going on with this girl you’re seeing?”

He said,

Our love is a game of hide and seek in the nude. We are both trying desperately to catch a glimpse of the other, but it's hard, because we're terrified of being caught naked. It's a slow dance on a tied-rope strung between ecstasy and destruction. And I’m so nervous I only think about jumping. It's Texting and not texting, Calling and not calling. It's playing games while we're awake, It's falling asleep while facebook stalking. It's the unplanned love-child of hope and fear. And just like the two of us, it didn't ask to be born, but fuck it's here. Like the sunrise on the last day of your life, or that feeling when you look to the left, and you look to the right, And realize that you accidently became an adult. And just like that, what once seemed impossible, Suddenly feels inevitable.

So I was like, “Wow! You're in trouble holmes.”

Anyway I met him again a few months later, and he was a ball of energy! I went to ask him how he was when he interrupted me saying...

The way she makes love shakes my convictions. It makes me cynical of my cynicism, It re-baptizes my beliefs, it revises my revisions There's a subtle safety in her promise, and it provide sanctuary for softness. And within halls filled with the florescence of her essence, I'm resurrecting a part of me I forgot was dead. And with that... One who is so used to punching problems and breaking things, is mending bridges and making things. All because… Her irises blaze like the beacon of a lighthouse, a bright, steadily shifting metronome. Silently saying that all the seas and storms are over, and that you, my love, are finally home.

And I looked at him and I was like, JESUS CHRIST...

He's not such a close friend of mine so we didn't meet till several months later. When we did he wasn’t looking as good as the last time we met. I asked, “How are you man, how is she?”

And he said,”

I don't know man... It's like someone changed the sheets while weren't paying attention, or maybe something changed because we weren't paying attention, or maybe what changed, is we stopped paying attention. Like loving felt so easy I thought I could do it blindfolded, and so I tried. Like giving felt so easy she buried all thoughts of sacrifice, along with any hope of compromise. So now I have a second secret lover, You might know her? Insomnia? I heard she gets around. Thing is though I don't quite like the way she eye-balls my dreams, And in 2 weeks with no sign of HER, and no sign of SLEEP! I'm thinking of sending out a search party, you know: Lost: 'Hopes & Dreams' Last Seen: ‘Somewhere between her broken promises, and my muffled screams.' Till then I'm just injecting every 'hello' with a latent 'goodbye'. As destiny slips through my fingers, and I can't quite figure out 'why?'. I'm locked in this prison of past patterns, though I don't quite understand the crime, I'm forced to kiss the person I love every time, like it might be the last time.

My friend kinda turned into the kind of person you wouldn't want to be friends with after that. I ran into him this one time and couldn’t get away from him so I awkwardly asked, “Heyyyy how are youuuu…?”

He said,

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUUUCCCKKK FUUUCK FUCK FUCK… fuck…!

And I was like, “…Fuuuuck…”

We didn't speak again for a while. To be honest I feel like no one really heard from him in a while. I suddenly heard he'd crawled out of his cave and was making appearances in public. So I called him up and said we should meet up.

I apologized for what happened saying, “I’m sorry about everything that happened bro, how is she? Do you guys still talk?”

He said,

Yeah... She called me after reading the Fault in our Stars, Talking about love and loss. I said the pages of great books feel like mirrors. chapters feel like memories, and characters; friends. She said don't be so dramatic, it's not like we're dying. But I said anyone who says we're not is lying. This human horror show is a cosmic tragedy with an unoriginal ending. I'm not trying to be condescending, but we're all dying. But when the two of us lived as one we illuminated this reality. We filled its spaces with serenity, and sang songs into its silences. We transmuted its mundane and morphed its melancholies. So it’s almost poetic, that we'd be undone by such trivialities. I'd like to say we were doomed, I'd like to say we were young, But the truth is you were selfish, and I was dumb. So though fate never did us any favors, and our stars are full of shit. We are the unplanned parents of our own destruction, and it’s time we took responsibility for it. I would have loved you for a lifetime, but that's damaged beyond repair, still, don't despair, Perhaps 'almost' can be our 'always'.

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poohbea · 3 years ago

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second story from this req post

wordcount: 999

content: spanking, you get bent over his knee, fingering, light choking, punishment, dom and sub themes

— synopsis: captain levi has warned you time and time again to stay out of the lab and away from it's scientist. it seems a punishment is in order.

note from pooh: this one is a lot shorter and condensed as i didn't wanna bombard you with another 3k of content hahaha, thank you again for the req and for being such a huge supporter of the blog it's been so lovely seeing one of my first followers continue to interact with me. you're amazing, that's why you deserve both of these ♡

WARNING: this is smut, so please ensure you have your age visible on your account before interacting. Minors (below 18+), ageless and blank blogs will be BLOCKED

Hope you enjoy ♡ reblogs are greatly appreciated

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Levi deadpans, shuffling through the ocean of paperwork strewn across his desk.

You fidget on the loveseat to the side of the room, afraid to meet your captain’s chilling gaze. “I’m sorry, she was teaching me about titan regeneration and I just-”

“Oh, so squad leader Hange’s word has more influence over you than mine?” You watch his brow rise in your peripherals, a gesture that has your heart leaping into your throat.

“N-No of course not, captain. It was my mistake!” You blurt, locking eyes with him for a brief moment before retreating to your lap once more.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, l/n.” His command was dominant, voice lowering an octave at your disrespectful demeanour.

“I-I’m sorry, captain!” You watch him pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, a heavy sigh following soon after.

“Stop apologising.” He groans, eyes pinning you to your seat.

“S-Sorry-” A raised hand cuts your instinctual grovelling short, Levi’s tensed jaw telling you he’s had enough.

Metal scraping across wood sounds as he rises from his seat, footsteps closing in on your meek figure on the small couch. His boots soon come into view when he stops in front of you, fingers hooking under your chin to have your eyes meet his.

“Stand up, y/n.” His voice was acerbic, paired with a stoic glare. It was enough to make you stutter.

“C-Captain?” You jump to your feet and he takes your place on the sofa, legs partially spread, a look of expectancy on his face.

“Pants to your knees.” He barked, gesturing to the clothing in question.

Heat overcomes your cheeks to your ears, flushing the skin a shade of dusty rose. “P-Pardon?”

“You heard me recruit, I expect you to follow an order!” Not wanting to upset him more you oblige, pulling your pants down to your knees, still leaving your underwear on. “Lay yourself over my knee, y/n.”

“Captain I’m not sure if I-” With a simple raise of his brow you were reduced to an anxious mess, voice dying in your throat in his intimidating presence. Silently you position yourself over his lap, skin glowing beet red at the intimate arrangement. “Captai-!”

You yelp when a hard smack blisters the skin of your ass suddenly, your bottom lip captured by your teeth to muffle your whimper. “Now let me teach you a lesson on following instructions, recruit.”

Another smack resonates within the small office, the sting of his palm sending a jolt up your spine, searing his handprint into the soft flesh. “When I tell you to stay away from Hange Zoe,” smack. “I expect obedience from my recruits. Especially you, y/n.” His knowing look has butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach.

“Levi.” You whine as he massages the already welting fat of your backside. “I’m sorr- ah!” He cuts you off with another strike of his hand, the pain nearing unbearable as he continues to hit the same spot over and over.

“What did I say about apologising?” He warns before smoothing it over again. “What are you not gonna do from now on?”

“Apologise?” You look up at him with pleading eyes, only to be met with a hardened stare in return.

“And?” His fingers dip between your thighs, grazing over your clit slightly while absentmindedly soothing the redness he had caused.

“And stay away from squad leader Hange.” You surrender to the expert motions of his fingertips along your slit, soft moans threatening to spill as he teased you through your panties.

“Good girl. So you do know how to listen.” He pulls your panties to the side like it means nothing, tips of his fingers already dipping into your folds, the slick of your arousal meeting the rough pads. “Look at that, already wet from being spanked like this. Are you that desperate or do I just have that effect on you?”

He slowly plunged his fingers into you, wrapping his free hand around your throat to make your back arch. He forces you to meet his gaze as he begins to pump his fingers, searching for your g-spot with each light nudge of his digits. When you let out a particularly strained moan he smiles in triumph, knowing full well he’d found what he was looking for.

“Play with your clit for me, pretty.” He encourages, letting your throat go to play with your ass some more.

Obediently your hand finds its way between your legs to the sensitive bud. A jolt was your first reaction at initial contact, a loud raspy moan falling from your lips. You try to match Levi’s pace, the Captain relentless in his stroke along your gummy walls.

“Captain… fuck, Levi, I’m close.” You whine, pussy tightening around his fingers.

“I know, pretty, I know. You’re gripping my fingers so tight.” He groans, picking up speed, digits moving in a steady come-hither motion, ensuring to rub against your g-spot with each thrust.

Your own fingers encircle your clit at equal pace, pressure building in your pelvis. A pressure that had you breathing less and less until it finally popped, releasing a wave of euphoria over your body. Levi continues his ministrations through the tightening of your thighs that came with your orgasm, soaking up the cries of pleasure freely spilling from your lips, his name among the incoherent array of words you managed to articulate.

As you come down with an exasperated exhale your body goes limp in his lap, a sight he finds endearing as you’re comfortable enough to actually lean on him like that. He replaces your panties before helping you sit upright, letting you sink into the sofa cushions, your body relaxing instinctually.

“Learned your lesson?” Levi smiles, laying a kiss on your temple.

You nod tiredly, trying hard not to let your eyes close as you attempt to regulate your breathing. “Definitely.”

#⊹ ��ﾟ꒰ఎ pooh’s reqs ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹#captain levi #levi smut #levi aot #snk levi #aot smut #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x you #aot levi #levi ackerman #aot x reader #aot x fem reader #x fem!reader #x female reader

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wikibutch · 2 years ago

Note

Hello WikiButch,

Recently, I have been avidly following your page. For the most part, I have loved it. However, at some times, I have also hated it severely. Here are a few things I think could change for the better, from someone who enjoys seeing your updates and thoughts:

Your blog has a very boring theme. While I love purple, dusty purple colors are highly overrated, and I think your blog could use a new theme to spice it up. To find new themes, I would recommend going into the #themes tag and picking one that suits you. That's how I found mine!

There are many text posts on your blog. While I understand it's nice to have your words heard by others, I would recommend you be more mindful of your followers who cannot read. As such, with every text post I would recommend you post an image to contextualize your words. This way, your blog would read similarly to a picture book.

You seem to love reblogging art. As much as it is sometimes interesting and intriguing to see, it also starts to hurt my eyes after looking for too long. There tends to be many colors, and as much as I am a fan of colors, colors can also be the cause of blindness, nearsightedness, farsightedness, fatigue, anxiety, and in extreme cases, death (traffic accidents from traffic lights). For this, I would like to see it toned down. Perhaps you could include a filter over your blog that blocks harmful UV rays?

In addition to the harmful colors, as I scrolled through your blog I saw an incredibly scary image of the devil. I am not a fan of the devil and in fact am an avid hater (Christian) of him. Please be wary, as posting and reposting images of him will affect your future.

There is one person I see a lot who looks strange. His name is Gerard Way, and whenever I see him I am forced to do a double take. Sometimes he wears strange clothes, like nurse outfits and babushka headscarves. I personally do not agree with this; the nurse outfit is one of great importance and should not be casually disrespected. What relevance does this person hold to your heart? Please get back ASAP on this matter.

I see a lot of things about lesbians, especially butch lesbians. While I am an ally to lesbians of all kinds, I was once injured greatly in a car accident in which my friend's mom hit me with her car. She apparently hit me because my friend's mom's mom was a lesbian, and she was lost in thought as she hit the gas. Because of this, seeing lesbians often can revive harmful memories of being flooed. As the world's second worst lesbian, I am curious if you know anything about the incident.

I was told once that you live in a city that begins with D and ends with T. I am an enormous fan of your blog, and would thus recommend leaving the city. Within the next year, I predict a terrorist named Maddy will strike, and all Asian citizens of that city will have to flee anyway.

You seem to be a fan of the famous video game DeltaRune. As someone who works on the DeltaRune team, and thus had a character based off of me implemented, I would recommend you stop following the development of DeltaRune, as the next chapter explores the cast's reaction to the death of the Queen.

You will regret not finishing the game Disco Elysium. In about a week, they will remove all copies of the game from everyone's hard drives, and the only way to see the endings is on YouTube.

Sometime, I worry you know too much. I sit in the back of my car, hiding from the police, and I open my phone. I look at your blog, and with tears in my eyes, I see "2 year old im babysitting refuses to go to bed until she watches i love lucy". I do not know if you realize this, but Lucy was the name of my late wife. Please never say that name again.

These are the ten commandments I propose to you. I hope to see change for the better instead of for the worse. Please think carefully after reading this; these words are pulled from the deepest depths of my heart, and will determine the course of your future.

Accordingly, a fan.

‎

‎‎‎

look behing you . that's me

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beskarberry · 4 years ago

Text

Bargaining with Beskar (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

Rating : Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: canon-typical violence (bounty capture) smut: captured bounty sex, rough play (soft choke), fingering, pent up sex.

Summary: You’re an ex bounty hunter just trying to escape the guilds radar long enough to spend a hefty reward, but a another bounty hunter has other plans for you. Can you convince him to let you go with only your charm, or will you find yourself in carbonite?

Authors note: I wrote this in a fury in the middle of the night so it’s messy and very very self indulgent. It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything so if I need to tag something tell me!

Edit: This fic started on another blog of mine but I moved it here to keep it consistent for when I add more chapters.

Next->

You'd had a good run.

It was a hard opportunity to pass up, the high profile bounty you had been charged to bring in had been able to contact their family shortly before you had captured them and the family offered to pay you handsomely for their return, easily triple what the guild was going to pay for this bail jumper. You’d taken the deal, but that meant you would be returning to the guild empty handed. Maybe if you laid low for a while they'd forget.

Of course that was a stupid thought, within weeks you had noticed rookie hunters on your tail. Word had gotten out that the bounty was walking free and a sloppy bounty hunter was a liability to the guild. After evading all of the green-horns for a time the more experienced hunters began tracking you, and your only choice with them was kill or be killed. They should have known you wouldn't go down quietly.

Months passed before you saw another hunter, hoping against hope that they had given up. It wasn't until you had gotten somewhat comfortable on Tatooine that the last one came.

You were far outside of Mos Eisly, the sandy city was barely a smudge on the horizon from where you were laying low doing repair work on a moisture extractor when he arrived. The machines engine was so loud in your ear you never heard him coming up over the dune, though through the scope of the pulse riffle he carried you wouldn't have heard him anyway. You cranked a ratchet against a stubborn bolt,

-crank.... crank.... c-CRZZT-!

Electricity coursed through you, your first thought was that somehow you had made a connection with a loose wire and shocked yourself, but it was soon obvious that whatever had electrified you was strong enough to paralyze you, causing you to drop down onto the ground. Your fingers were still twitching when you heard bootsteps coming over the sand, but you were unable to stand, instead you worked to shake the electricity running through you.

"Th-thi-think I hit a whi-wh-wire there, I- I- I- I'll get it fi- fixed." you stuttered through clenched teeth, thinking it was the moisture farmer that had hired you coming to see if you were ok. The pulse was wearing off quickly, and you were able to jerk your head enough to make visual contact with the boot of the man approaching you, but these were not the boots of a farmer, they were the boots of a bounty hunter.

"Oh fuck" you tried to scramble to your feet, but you were still jarred from the pulse bolt that had hit you. The man above you wasn't going to wait for you to get your footing, and kicked you over onto your back with one bandoliered boot, then kneeled into your gut with the other, knocking the wind out of you. Still twitching with electricity he snapped a pair of binders on your wrist before hauling you to your feet. You struggled in his grasp, a combination of convulsion and fear made you squirm like a womp rat in a trap, but his grasp was too strong. Suddenly there was cold metal pressed against your side, the barrel of a blaster digging into your ribs.

"Move it." A man of little words but quick and to the point, the blaster barrel forced harder into your side to accentuate his point. He ripped your supply bag off of your shoulders and stuffed a leather clad hand into the belt of your canvas pants to fish out your hidden blaster. Rude. He shoved you toward the barren wasteland of the dune sea, unable to argue with the barrel digging into your ribs you both set off in a brisk pace across sands.

"Whose p- paying you?" You sputtered, still feeling the after effects of the pulse bolt. "I can pay you m- more. I made three ti- times the bounty the guild would pay and I would g- gladly split it with you." Bargaining was your only option at the moment, arms and legs like jelly and unable to put up a good fight. The hunter said nothing, continuing to half march half drag you over the sands. "I bet half is still more than double what they're paying you now, so whad’dya say? Wanna go splitsies?" Still nothing. You huffed, dragging your legs in the sand as best you could to slow him down, but a quick jab with the blaster barrel had you singing a different tune.

The pair of you marched on for a couple hours through the dunes towards a rocky outcropping, you continued making offers of credits and services but never once did he respond, choosing instead to shank you with the blaster or shove a hand into your back to remind you of your current position as his prisoner, without letting you get so much as a peek at your captor. Before long you both had made it to the rocks, and hidden behind them was the saddest looking star ship you had ever seen. It was pre-Imperial you were sure, standing dusty and dented in the fading double sunset. The fact that it had survived atmospheric reentry was a surprise in itself. Like hell you were getting on that thing. The bounty hunter shoved you forward towards the ugly ship, letting go of you just long enough to press a couple buttons on his vambrace to open the entry ramp. It was now or never.

Tired and dehydrated as you were from your trek across the dunes you knew this might be your only chance. You tucked in your bound wrists and made a run for it, kicking up sand in your escape. You were fast but he was faster.

-fwip!- SNAP! Something had caught your leg, yanking your feet out from under you and forcing you to do a faceplant in the rocky sand with a thud. You whipped around to find that he had shot you with some kind of grapple, hauling you back towards him by your ankle you were finally able to see who had caught you.

Is that the Mandalorian? From Karga’s cantina? Of all the hunters you had seen in your travels, Mandalorians were a breed all their own. The stoic hunters had frequented the ramshackle cantina on Navarro that you had visited a handful of times in your earlier days of hunting. You’d started to recognize one in particular that frequented the guild post often. His beskar helmet was shiny unpainted silver, but the last time you had seen him the rest of his armor was a dingy reddish brown. The thought was fleeting as you struggled to escape being dragged by the grapple but once he had you back in his grasp there was no denying it was the same man. He was covered almost head to toe in bullets and beskar, all the way up to the familiar shiny dome of it that covered his entire head. You were able to get an excellent view of its craftsmanship as he pulled you back up to your feet and marched you backwards into the old ship, the black shimmer of his visor never leaving your face. You stumbled over your own feet, fighting with the last bit of your strength for one last chance at escape.

“Mando! Remember me? From Kargas? On Navarro? Yeah yeah heya buddy! Hey hunter to hunter you don’t actually want to bring me in, I just know how much you ~looove~ talking with that old cantina crook and the, uh, paper work! Yeah paper work is suuuch a headache! I’ll just slip on out of here and we can both avoid a bad time, sound good?” Though you knew who he was you’d never spoken to this man in your life, and he of course wasn’t going to entertain your pleas, but it was the best you had. You were pushed backwards through the ship, past supply crates and what looked like the guts of a protocol droid towards what you could only guess was a carbonite chamber. He tossed your supply pack somewhere into the bowels of the ship without ever taking his gaze off you. Panic found a few last drops of adrenaline to pump through your veins as you neared your impending doom. Your silent captor backed you into the chamber, puffs of fog billowing out from behind you as the machine fired up. You had to get out, thrashing in his grasp and kicking against the walls of the chamber with every last bit of strength you had, but just like the armor he wore, he himself was unbreakable.

The bigger hunter was becoming fed up, frustrated with your squirming and never ending bargaining; he needed you to hold still long enough for him to hit the activation sequence so this hunt would be over. He let go of your bound wrists and pushed a leather clad hand up against your throat.

“~Ahh~!”

The noise that escaped your mouth made you both freeze, you just as shocked as he was. Your cheeks flushed with heat, embarrassed that in your current state of capture such a filthy noise had been coaxed from you. You squeezed your eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over and let the carbonite freeze you into oblivion, but its chill never came. You slowly opened one eye to glance at the armored man, but he looked like he was the one that had been frozen.

“What was that?” His voice was like gravel coming through the modulator of his helmet, and you flushed red again at his question, looking between the corners of his visor where you thought his eyes might be.

“Don’t worry about it, tin man.” you croaked, “Just hurry up and let’s get this over with.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, hoping that the darkness behind your eyelids was enough for you to vanish into. But you felt the hand leave your neck, coasting down to your bound wrists and tugging you out of the carbonite freezer. Unable to really argue with him you followed his pull on shaky legs, looking at the unreadable face for a sign of his intentions. Once you were free of the chamber he pushed you up against the nearby wall and held you in front of him, completely motionless.

You were confused, embarrassed, and now suddenly frustrated. Was he really going to drag this out for stupid questions? He stood like a statue, the visor of his helmet felt like its gaze was trying to bore a hole through your skull. You stared at him, then to his hands, and last down to his blaster before looking back up to his visor. You watched as one leather gloved hand slowly made its way back up to your neck, giving it a firm squeeze like he had done before, but you wouldn’t fall for that trick a second time.

“Do it again.” came a rumbling voice from deep inside the beskar, but this time it was lower, more measured and full of something that made your heart do flip-flops in your chest. A sinful thought came to you, maybe you would be able to escape after all.

“You’re going to have to work for it, no more freebies” a sly smile crept over your face, earning a tilt of the helmet that made you feel like you were being inspected by a large bird. Your hands were still locked together, but you brought them both up anyway to wrap your fingers around the armored wrist that still leaned against your throat. Immediately his other hand went for the blaster and its barrel was trained on you in a heartbeat. “Easy...” you whispered showing both of your raised palms in a sign of peace. He kept the blaster trained on you as you gently grabbed his wrist with both hands, pulling on it to guide it down the front of your shirt. When his hand reached your breast, you pushed his palm into the supple mound, rewarding him with another breathy sigh.

Something like a huff whispered out though his modulator, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the whirring of the ships innards, but you knew what you heard. The blaster in his other hand dipped away from you slowly before finding its spot back in its holster. Once it was safely away his free hand came up to grab at your other breast, earning him another encouraging sigh. Without letting go of the front of your shirt he carefully spun you away from the carbonite freezer and walked you backwards towards one of the supply crates that littered the hull until it bumped up against the back of your knees; prompting you to plop down on it. You leaned back, arching your bound arms over your head to give you some kind of leverage while he toyed with your breasts.

“Y’know they’re even more fun without the shirt.” you chided. The mandalorian took the hint and ghosted down to the hem of the tunic you had worn to blend in with the other farmers. It was thin and yielded easily as he pushed it up over your breasts, the flesh of your nipple puckering in the cool air of the ship. The shiny black of his visor never left your chest, only tilting side to side as he took both of them in. His leather gloves were soft and warm on your skin, gently pinching at your nipple and pulling on them just enough to cause your breast to bounce when he let go. He grabbed at the pillowy flesh, groping and rolling your sensitive buds between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers. All the while you made good on your word, making soft sighs to edge him on. Though you knew this was supposed to be your escape plan, you couldn’t help the way heated pooled in your belly, making you squeeze your thighs together and rock your hips. The armored man noticed the way you were squirming and let his hands wander down from your breasts to the hem of your canvas pants.

“Well? Don’t leave a girl waiting.” You rocked your hips up at his hands, trying to get him to take the hint. His expert hands that had wielded fierce weaponry so well now seemed to falter at what he was supposed to do next. His fingers were slow undoing the button and zipper as if he'd never taking someone else's clothes off before, before pushing them down until they were around your knees. The sudden hit of cool air made you instantly aware of just how hot you had become under his groping. You used your knees and heels to push your pants all the way off, kicking your muckboots off with them and opening yourself up for him to get a good look at you.

His body was stiff, the visor of his helmet staring down at your heat, he was so still you could swear he was holding his breath. Suddenly his gaze made you feel vulnerable, as if he didn’t like your display. You moved to start closing your legs when a strong hand shot out to grab your knee and hold it in place while he continued to gawk at you. He likes what he sees you realized, heat flushing to your face and your cunt. Again you rolled your hips from side to side, trying to entice him. What’s he waiting for?

“Please...” you gave him your best impression of a needy virgin and saw his shoulders immediately go even stiffer, the black visor snapping up to meet your eyes. “Take your gloves off.”

He cocked his helmet at you, and you were starting to get the hang of reading an unreadable face. “Just trust me, we’ll both enjoy it more.” At that he tugged the glove off of one hand and tossed it somewhere behind him in the ship, exposing bronze skin of a, thankfully, human hand. He reached down between your legs at the hot core of your body, slowly moving his fingers down your slit. You sighed and arched into his touch, begging with your body for something more tangible. His other hand came up to grab your thigh and steady you, but the hand tracing your heat was shy and ghostlike, almost like he wasn’t touching you at all. “Please Mando...” you begged again, hoping he would get the damn hint.

He pushed one finger experimentally into your folds, dragging the wetness that had accumulated there over your opening and making you hum for him. He moved from the bottom up until his calloused hand found the sensitive little nub you had been waiting for him to find. The roughness of his skin caused you to convulse and cry out, making him tear his hand away as if he’d been burned.

“It’s alright! Please touch me there.” Who is this guy? What’s he never seen a pussy before? You thought to yourself, surprised that such a big scary man would be so jumpy. You arched your back and was rewarded with his hands back where they belonged. He pushed his thumb up against your aching clit, drawing lazy circles with it while another finger began pushing its way inside you. This time you let out a ragged and dirty moan to let him know he was doing a good job. He pulled his thumb away from your engorged nub to push a second finger up in you, making you whine. He found a spot in you quickly that was starting to make you shake again, but this time he knew not to foolishly let go. Your legs were quaking, head lolling to the side and making those sinful sighs that you could tell he liked. He was getting you close, your muscles squeezing around his rough fingers as he worked you to your climax. When his thumb found your clit again you came undone, your cunt fluttering around his fingers with your orgasm. He rode it out with you, pushing up against the coiled muscle to milk every ounce of pleasure from you that you could give on his hands alone. You could feel your own cum leaking down your thighs and around his hand, now realizing how pent up you actually were. What a mess you would be.

You were nearly gasping but you knew you were far from spent. He pulled his hand from your dripping cunt and you watched him stare at the slick on his hands, sticking and unsticking his fingers just to watch the glimmering trails. Cute, you mused to yourself, he really might not have seen a pussy before.

“Alright, space cowboy, your turn.” You nodded towards the bulge that had made his baggy canvas pants grow tight, and he followed your gaze with what you guessed was surprise. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, hmm?” With one last glance at the prize on his fingers, he took a moment to reach them up underneath the edge of his helmet, greedily getting a taste of you, before straightening up and undoing his own buttons. You were not prepared for the monster that flopped out of his pants, his cock full and engorged all the way to its hot red tip. Thick veins wound their way up its length and you swore you could see them pulse even from your vantage point on the crate. A soft drop of precum was already forming at the tip and you licked your lips involuntarily, feeling a fresh rush of heat pooling between your legs. “I’m all yours.”

The hunter grasped his aching cock and used his thumb to glide the precum up and down it’s length before he angled himself between your legs. You arched your hips to give him the best angle but he wanted to take his time. He dragged the head of his cock up and down the length of your slick opening, gathering the cum he had earned for himself. When he bumped up against your clit you moaned a breathy and sinful sound that made him shiver. He slid back down again and you pushed your hip towards him, forcing his tip to notch and he almost doubled over from the sensation, giving you a ragged groan in response.

“Did that feel good?” you asked, biting your lip with a devious sneer. “It’ll feel even better inside.” His gaze was fixed on where the two of you were connected, his hands like steel on your thighs. Another tilt of your hips was enough to turn the cogwheels of the metal man and he pushed his length into you with a shuddering gasp. Your own breath caught in your throat at the size of him breaking you open. He pulled himself back out achingly slow before thrusting into you again and earning himself another round of pleasured cries. It took him only a couple more thrusts to find his rhythm, bottoming out against your cervix with every thrust. Your head was cloudy and a fearsome heat was building in your belly, threatening to burst every time he pounded into you. You could hear him now, the once silent bounty hunter was panting ragged puffs of air and if it had been any cooler in the ship you swore you would have seen steam coming out of the helmets vents.

He slowed his feverish pounding just long enough to release one of your captured thighs and bring a thumb down to your clit, pushing against it in a way that was rougher than what you would have liked but nevertheless sent your head spiraling and forcing a pitiful mewl to escape your throat. It wasn’t long before another round of lightning crackled through your body and sent another orgasm crashing through you. The force of it made him choke and stuttered his perfect rhythm hard enough that he fell forward onto you. Your hands were still locked together but you wrapped them around his broad armored back as best you could, pulling him close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath coming out of the bottom of the helmet. He groaned and pushed his head into the crook of your neck before finding his filthy cadence again. He was close enough now that you could catch the scent of him, a mix of sweat and metal and gunpowder and something so primal it made your eyes flutter.

“Let me feel that again.” His ragged voice in your ear sent you spinning, and you could only answer with choked cries. The hand he had used to work you into a frenzy before now snaked it’s way up to your throat, giving it the exact gentle squeeze he had earlier that started this whole twisted tango. This time you gave him precisely what he was asking for, your tongue peeking ever so slightly past wet lips in between soft choked gasps. His pace quickened by your edging and his grasp tightened on your neck, drawing an ugly -urk- noise that had you patting his back in protest. To your relief he respected your gesture and let go of your neck entirely. Interesting...what a sweet, thoughtful murder machine he is. He grabbed ahold of the abused crate that held you both up and ground his hips into you, fucking you so hard you swore it would break. It wasn’t long before your overstimulated cunt gave him exactly what he asked for, crying out into the silence of the hull and clamping down around his cock.

That was the last thing he needed to push him over the edge. A few more messy thrusts and a modulated roar accompanied his climax while he pumped you full of cum. He pushed himself as deep as he could go and you felt his cum start to pour out of you, mixing with your own as it trailed down from the intersection of your bodies and onto the cold metal of the ships floor. You were both panting, his weight on you making it almost hard to breathe. With great difficulty you pulled your bound arms over top of him and dropped them back behind your head so he could get up, but he just laid on top of you while his cock slowly softened and released itself from you, sending a fresh wave of cum flooding down your legs.

Carefully he pushed himself up, grunting and groaning the whole way. He stumbled to his feet, resting an arm on one of the crates next to you to steady himself and the other on your quaking knee. You glanced down at him and was bemused to see his glossy black visor staring down at your dripping cunt. His hands made their way back to you, gently pushing at your folds to watch the delicious mess he had made trickle from you. You couldn’t hear much over the blood pounding in your ears, but you could have sworn he said something with fondness in a language you didn’t know.

Releasing you from his grasp he walked up your side, dragging his ungloved hand over your disheveled body, devouring your naked form with his visor like a starving man watches a feast. It was now that you remembered why you had let him fuck you in the first place, but your body was limp and your legs shaky. He ran his hands up your chest and over your exposed breasts, then up your arms, grabbing the magnetic cuffs he had put there. Great. Back to the carbonite chamber for me.

But instead your ears were graced with the metallic click of the unlocking mechanism and the restrictive cuffs clattered to the floor. You sat up immediately, rubbing at the bruises on your wrists and staring at your captor with mix of bliss and confusion.

“You’re letting me go?”

Mando was working to put his clothes back in order, the sound of belts and snaps shuffling into place echoed in the ships hull. “Last I heard you had fallen into a sarlacc pit on Tatooine. Can’t collect a bounty on the dead. Pity too, I’d heard you were such a great hunter.” The man who had been your captor was now leaning against the hull wall, his visor still locked on your mostly naked form. “You can go back to doing repairs on moisture farm equipment, or...” he tilted his helmet towards the back of the ship “You’re welcome to use the fresher.”

You blinked at his uncharacteristic generosity, though you supposed you didn’t actually know anything about him. Shifting off of the crate sent another gooey wave of cum dribbling down your legs and flushed your cheeks red. Maybe the fresher wasn’t a bad idea. The metallic man turned on his heel towards what you could only guess was the cockpit.

“Alright, but no peeking.” Like I could stop him. The thought made you laugh, it was his ship after all. You tossed what was left of your clothing onto the floor and made for the tiny alcove that passed as a bathroom and the even tinier shower; but the water was hot and that was enough. It had been so long since you had felt running water on your skin that you didn’t even hear the engines firing up and the rickety ship begin to take off. There was a bar of military grade soap on the ledge that you decided to help yourself to, it smelled surprisingly nice for something so plain. It smells like he does. You shook your head at the intrusive thought. It was just soap.

When you had finished your wash you stood in the fresher trying to squeegie water from your hair, now noticing the rumbling of the ship under your feet. Well, goodbye Tatooine I guess. The ugly dust ball had done you no favors, but this wasn’t exactly the way you had guessed you were getting off of it. He had set out to capture me, and he succeeded. He’ll probably grow tired of me and throw me in the carbonite anyway, so one way or another I would have ended up on this ship. You opened the shower door and saw something on the counter that hadn’t been there when you got in.

Two gray-brown towels were folded neatly on the fresher sink, as well as your clothing and something that looked like a black knit sweater. You hadn’t even heard the door to the fresher open, let alone him coming in to drop the items off.

“Sneaky Mando!” You hollered out into the darkness of the ship, though you guessed he probably couldn’t hear you from where he was at. The idea of him creeping in the bathroom to bring you a towel made you chuckle. “I told you not to peek!”

“I didn’t.” A modulated voice right in your ear made you jump backwards into the safety of the fresher.

“Fucksake man! Scare a girl to death why don’tcha?” You wrapped your towel tighter in indignation, surprised that your nudity would make you embarrassed after what had just happened between the two of you.

He sighed a long, exhausted sigh. “After you went rouge you took out three top tier bounty hunters and not once did you try to beg the guild to stop hunting you. There’s a pretty hefty price on your head, but I think your skills could be put to better use.” The Mandalorian cocked his head at you, “Think you can do that again?”

The audacity... You huffed and put your hands on your hips in a stance of mock fury. “So you kidnap me and now you’re going to put me to work? Great. Thanks pal. Really know how to take a girl out on a date, huh?”

He shrugged. “Do you want to go back to the carbonite freezer? I’m sure Karga would love to part with all those credits for your capture.”

No... No you did not want to go back to the freezer. You glared down at the floor with raised eyebrows, pretending like you were mulling over the idea like it was a job offer and not literally your only option.

“Alright... fine fine you talked me into it. Let’s go hunting, captain.” You snapped a damp hand out for him to shake, but he just shook his shiny metal dome in what you might have guessed was a laugh. He pushed himself away from the wall and climbed back up the ladder to the cockpit without a single word.

You watched as his boots disappeared into the ceiling and shook your head, wondering now if when you woke up this morning you had any idea that the day would take you on some wild bantha hunt though space with a well-hung mystery man. You tightened your towel and tucked back into the still steamy fresher to put on the clothes he had left you. The farming tunic was in a sad state, but the knit sweater looked snug and inviting. Pulling it over your damp hair your nose was flooded with that same delectable scent that you had gotten to indulge in earlier. When he was pressed into you.

“Hoo boy...” You finished getting dressed, rubbing your hair with one of the towels Mr. Mystery had left for you. I hope he’s got travel scrabble somewhere in this rust bucket, or you’re going to have to find some more... physical... activities to pass the time. Your lips turned up in a mischievous grin at the idea.

What a strange trip this will be.

Next ->

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #self insert #smut

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angryschnauzer · 5 years ago

Text

Overnight

Summary: It may have been a mistake to get off the highway, your car breaking down on an abandoned back road. But just in time a tow truck appears, and the mechanics garage isn't far away... but when you find out the parts will be delivered overnight, you storm off towards town... and somehow find yourself where you least expect.

Pairing: AU Mechanic Chris Evans x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Dubious Consent, AU, Greasy Mechanic Chris, Backroads Fic, Unprotected Sex, Thunderstorms, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, unprotected anal sex, Sloppy Seconds, Kitchen Sex, Dark Chris, Slightly Creepy Fic

A/N: This is a slightly twisted story, i wouldn’t say it was ‘dark’, but it does have a slightly sinister undertone. I’m also tagging it as dub-con (dubious consent) as although reader never says no, she is never asked either. This is very much a work of fiction, and i urge the reader to take responsibility for their online consumption, so ensure you read the warnings before reading and then only proceed once you have accepted what this story may contain. It is not a light and fluffy fic.

I do not operate a tag list, but you can follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as every time i post a story i will reblog there. I have too many stories to do a masterlist, but you can find my entire back catalgoue on AO3 through THIS LINK.

A while back i also wrote a Seb AU Mechanic fic, and here is the link for that: Caught In The Storm

Overnight

You should NOT have turned off the interstate. Sure, you would be stuck in bumper to bumper tailbacks in the searing heat, but surely it would have been better than this. The further you’d driven, the worse your car had sounded, the metallic clanking sound getting louder and louder the further you drove. Something made a loud THUD and you felt the power steering go, and glancing in your rear-view mirror a large oil patch was appearing behind your car as it slowly started to cough and splutter, before coasting to a halt on the side of the cracked road. As the engine died you thumped the steering wheel, cursing and screaming at the broken piece of junk, before with heavy limbs you pulled yourself from the car.

Standing on the rough gravel at the side of the road, your hands on your hips, you glowered at the car, a faint hiss of steam coming from beneath the hood. The sun beat down and you could feel the heat of the day sinking into your bones, gnats and midges trying to gnaw at your skin as you slapped them angrily away. Dark clouds grew on the horizon but did little to obscure the beating sun high above you.

Checking your cell phone you weren’t surprised to see the no service icon, you were in the middle of nowhere, more likely to be dragged into the surrounding swamp and eaten by god knows what than to be able to call anyone. Just as you were lamenting your woes, the sound of an old diesel engine came rumbling to yours ears, and glancing down the road you saw an ancient tow truck coming into view. Standing in the road you waved your arms to flag the vehicle down; even if it couldn’t help then maybe it could take you to a working phone.

The truck came to a stop in front of your car, and as the engine cut off and the driver’s door opened, you felt your body go tight. The man that climbed down from the cab looked like sin on a Sunday, long denim clad legs striding towards you, ball cap on backwards doing little to shade his face from the pounding sunshine, and a t-shirt that seemed to be painted onto his broad chest and wide shoulders;

“In a spot of trouble there darlin’?”

You let out a huff, you weren’t about to let some back roads hick try and charm his way into your panties… though said panties were suddenly becoming damper by every second he stood close to you. Shaking your head, you stood tall and puffed your chest out;

“My car has died. If I could borrow your phone to call Triple A, I haven’t got any signal on mine…”

The guy looked you up and down, his gaze resting on your chest as a bead of perspiration ran down your neck and between your breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips;

“AAA don’t come out here, its subcontracted out to us locals. I’m on my way back to the garage now if you want a tow Sweetheart?”

Letting out a deep sigh you nodded, returning to your car to grab your purse as the man started to unreel the towing line and called out to you;

“Hop up into the cab Princess, this won’t take a moment”

Rolling your eyes at the pet names you bit your tongue; the guy was after all helping you out. Gripping the handle of the tow trucks door you looked down at the old worn paintwork ‘Evans Autos’. You quickly fished your phone out of your bag and snapped a shot, setting it to upload to the iCloud once you got in range of any signal… at least that way if this greasy backroads mechanic chopped you into little pieces you had left a trail of evidence.

Pulling the door open you let out a small yelp when you came face to face with a big brown dog sitting on the passenger seat;

“Scoot!”

The dog looked at you with utter disdain, and firmly remained sat on the seat. Waving your hands a little you frowned at it;

“C’mon, scoot over!”

Over the sound of the towing winch whining at it pulled your car up onto the truck, you heard the mechanic call out;

“You’ll have to climb over Dodge… he likes the window seat”

Turning back to the big mutt you could have sworn it had a smug ‘so there’ look on its face, and as you climbed up and around the dog, you sat in the middle of the wide bench seat. Looking around you couldn’t find any seatbelts, so just sat with your hands firmly clasped in your lap. The sounds of lockers being shut hit your ears before the driver’s door opened and the mechanic climbed into the seat next to you and grinned;

“Best hold on Babe, it’s a bumpy ride to the garage”

“I’ll be fine, thanks” you muttered as he gunned the engine and pulled away.

He hadn’t been lying; the roads were atrocious. With each bump and pothole you were bounced closer to him, the dog the other side of you seemingly able to spread out across not only his seat but part of yours. You could have sworn the mechanic was aiming for every single bump possible just to be able to watch your breasts bounce as the truck hit each stone.

With each jolt and jiggle your thigh was pressed closer and closer against his, and when the truck hit a huge hole in the road you felt yourself almost lifted from the seat, suddenly pinned back by his strong arm quickly thrown across your torso to hold you down and from slipping from the seat. The skin of his tattooed bicep was pressed against the exposed neckline and chest, his scent invading your senses; a warm spicy aftershave and motor oil and gasoline. You could feel your panties getting wetter as your legs parted so you could plant your feet on the dusty floor of the truck but it did little to alleviate the aching between your thighs.

Finally he slowed the truck and turned the wheel into a sharp left-hand turn, the truck bouncing along a gravel driveway until an old wooden auto shop came into view. Pulling the truck to a stop he climbed out, holding his hand out for you;

“Dodge likes to sleep in the cab…”

Rolling your eyes you took his hand and climbed out as gracefully as you could, your short sundress sticking to the seat before you yanked it down to retain what was left of your dignity;

“So Babycakes, there’s a coupla’ chairs round the side if you want to take a seat whilst I look at your car, and an icebox on the counter just inside the shop, help yourself to a water”

“Umm, thanks”

You glanced at the time on your phone. You’d been waiting three hours; the sound of your car being taken to pieces by the mechanic was all you’d heard for most of that time. The only thing that seemed to have changed in those three hours was the humidity rising and the storm clouds coming closer. Rising to your feet you stretched your limbs and turned the corner of the auto shop, glancing at the mechanic as he lay on the floor below your sorry looking car as it was raised on the hydraulic lift;

“Sir?”

“Chris”

“What?”

“It’s Chris, not Sir…”

“Ok, Chris. Do you know how much longer it’ll be?”

Chris pulled himself out from beneath your car, wiping his hands on a rag that was hanging from the back pocket of his jeans;

“For today, I’ll probably be done in an hour…”

“Great!”

“... but I need to overnight the parts I need, so it won’t be ready until tomorrow”

“What? When were you going to tell me that?”

“I’ve just ordered the parts Honey”

You let out a grunt of frustration;

“Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow… you could have told me sooner”

You turned on your heel and started to walk away;

“Where ya’ goin’?”

“To find a motel, or a guesthouse, or somewhere to stay at!”

“On foot?!”

“YES!”

You had stormed off, anger driving your feet as your white sneakers slowly got covered in brown dust that puffed up from the gravel driveway with every step you took towards the road. Finally you reached the cracked asphalt, taking a sharp right-hand turn and you started along the road. By now the humidity was hanging in the air and it felt like you were walking through soup. Even the midges had given up, their tiny wings not strong enough to cut through the cloying stillness. The sun was now obscured by dark clouds, but you continued on. Finally a crossroads came into view, and you willed your heat-tired muscles to push on, coming to the sign and stopping. The shortest distance was to take a right, so scrambling over the accumulated gravel you continued your journey.

An hour later your legs were weary. Your dress clung to your skin as sweat beaded across your brow, down your chest and back. You held your arms out as you walked, hoping just by moving they would cool your skin, but having little affect.

Finally a small house came into view, further buildings behind it mostly hidden by trees. The hair on your arms stood on end with Goosebumps and you could smell petrichor on the air, you knew the storm was about to break. Quickening your step you found the energy to trot down the rest of the way, past the worn mailbox with most of the letters worn away, the last three just spelling out ‘van’, but you were oblivious, the first raindrop hitting your skin and you sprinted towards the house.

By the time you reached the porch the parts of your dress that weren’t stuck to your skin due to sweat were doing so thanks to the rain. A crack of thunder boomed as a flash of lightning lit the sky, and as you cowered under the porch you heard a bark and a very wet brown dog suddenly ran for cover, shivering on the doorstep. Another crack of thunder made you jump, and the dog cowered against you, you crouching down to wrap your arms around the scared creature. Looking at the name tag that hung from its collar you read it; ‘Dodger’, and your heart plummeted to your stomach. Before you could even fathom what had happened, a familiar voice was behind you;

“You were walking over an hour and you still manage to find your way back here?”

Turning you looked out to the lawn where Chris stood, the rain pouring over him, his t-shirt stuck to every curve of his body and his jeans hanging low on his narrow hips. Slowly striding towards you he wiped the rain from his face as he stepped under the porch, reaching around you and opening the door to the small cabin;

“You took a right and another right, didn’t ya?”

“How did you…?”

“Well, if you hadn’t stormed off in a huff, I woulda told you to turn left at the end of the driveway. Instead walked a giant triangle and found yourself back here”

You let out a strangled noise, not quite a cry, not quite a scream, before your body sagged;

“Can you… can you give me a ride into town?”

“Nope”

“No?!”

“The town is tiny. All we got is a church, a market, and a drug store. Nearest motel ain’t for thirty miles, and you wouldn’t wanna stay there… unless you like cockroaches”

You could feel your bottom lip quiver, trying to hold back the tears before Chris’s voice softened;

“I got a couch you can stay on, no funny business, no obligations…”

He was close, so close. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and you found your mouth moving before your brain could stop it;

“What if I wanted funny business?”

There was no more preamble, no more hesitating, he stepped forwards, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other on your waist as he pulled your body flush against his own, his lips meeting yours.

The kiss was fierce, your mouth willingly opening as his tongue pushed against your own, dancing together as you tasted one another. His hand on your hip pulled at your dress, curling it up in his fingers until your skin was there to touch, his large hand gripping the soft cheek of your ass. He pushed you back, the hardness of the wooden clapperboards of his cabin rough against your skin, but you were blissfully unaware of it. He pressed one leg between yours and you ground your hips against the firm denim clad muscle of his thigh, in turn the thick hardness that was growing between your bodies he rubbed against your hip, moaning into your mouth as the friction helped release some of the tension that had built during the day.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, your dress had already ridden up so he was easily able to slide a hand into your panties, leaving streaks of motor oil across the pale fabric as he sought out your clit. Pushing two wide fingers down he found your soaked entrance and gathered some of your wetness, before bringing his fingers back and rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bud. His lips parted from yours, resting his forehead to your own for a moment you panted into his mouth, the air between you hot and thick, before those kiss plump lips make their way to your neck, sucking and licking at your jugular as his beard scratched against your skin.

Your head lolled back and rested against the wooden side of the building, the storm raging around you as you felt your orgasm starting to build. Your hands clung to Chris’s strong arms, his skin patterned with tattoos that you yearned to run your fingertips over tenderly. Your body started to shake, your orgasm growing closer as that coil in the pit of your stomach wound ever tighter, your hand finding its way to the firm bulge that was pressing against your hip, and as you squeezed the hot muscle through the denim you started to come, Chris’s mouth finding your own against as he swallowed your cries of passion.

He stilled his fingers as you trembled against him, quickly unfastening the buttons of his fly and pushing the garment down just enough to free his thick cock, taking hold of your thighs as he lifted you. With strong hands he gripped at your panties before ripping them from your body, the ruined pieces of cotton falling to the floor at your feet. You felt the wide tip press against your still trembling entrance and with a grunt he thrust into you, filling you completely as you screamed out his name.

You clung to him as he started to fuck you roughly against the wall, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting being drowned out by the storm now wild overhead. With each thrust your body was sent to heavy, the thick stretch of him inside you making your legs tremble as he held one leg over his hip, letting you try and keep the other held up as he pawed at your breasts, pulling your dress and bra down until you spilled out, your tits bouncing with each of his powerful thrusts.

No words were spoken, your moans the only thing that could leave your lips as Chris fucked you so hard you were sure you’d never be able to close your legs again and made roadkill of your pelvis with his powerful thrusts. You were trembling around him and you were getting closer and closer to coming again. His lips were on your neck again and muttering the dirtiest things in your ear;

“Are you gonna cum on my cock babe? Make me fill you with my cum until its dripping down your legs… you’re squeezing me so damn tight, gonna pump you full then take you inside, make you sit on my face, would you like that? Wanna feel my tongue on your cunt?”

“Oh fuck… Chris, yes… fuck, keep going…”

He laughed quietly before picking up speed, the slapping sound of his heavy sac against your ass filling your ears as the wide root of his cock rubbed and dragged against your clit. With a grind of his hips you were coming, your fingernails clinging to his back as you shook with pleasure, triggering his own orgasm as he pumped hot ropes of creamy seed deep within your womb.

Holding you against the wall, he kissed you, his tongue working against your own before he slowly pulled out of you, letting your feet fall to the floor. Your head swam from the pleasure surging through your body, only partially aware of Chris pulling his jeans up enough to keep them on his hips before he wrapped his arms around your waist and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you inside.

Moments later you were being dropped onto a large bed, the covers messy from when the previous occupant had simply gotten up and dressed that morning, and you watched as Chris stripped his soaked clothes from his body before crawling onto the bed, his gaze feral as he pressed a line of kisses up your sternum before his lips found yours again. His fingers worked deftly against the ties of your wrap summer dress, pulling it open and helping you to wriggle out of it; all whilst his lips never left yours.

Finally he pulled away, his strong arms bulging as he flipped you over and pulled your hips up until you were resting on your knees. His wide tongue pulled a thick stripe through your cum soaked folds, from clit to asshole, before grinding his face against your crotch. His tongue was everywhere, sucking on your clit before moving to your well fucked entrance, then moving up and pressing against the tight ring of muscle between your asscheeks. With more insistence he pushed his tongue against your back door and you sighed into the old sheets below you, your fingers curling in the cotton as he slid two thick fingers into your soaked channel whilst his tongue worked against your asshole. When his thumb found your clit a shockwave bolted through you, your scream into the mattress from sheer pleasure as you unashamedly ground back against him, moaning his name as your legs shook. He pulled his mouth away and spat on your asshole, working a finger in up to the knuckle and you started to cum, his fingers in your cunt rubbing against that spongy spot whilst his thumb worked figure eights over your clit, and you found yourself squirting your release as you screamed with pleasure.

You were aware of Chris pulling away, your body trembling and fluid in the prone position. You heard the quiet click of the cap of a bottle before a cool viscous liquid was slowly spread over your ass. The touch of Chris’s fingers exploring your most hidden of places had you pushing back against his touch, relaxing as he slid two oiled fingers slowly into your ass, massaging you, stretching you. By now you were drooling, your tongue working against the cotton sheet as you bore down as he pushed a third finger into your ass, the quiet squirt of more oil being applied directly inside you had you knowing what was coming, and humming a low moan as you felt his fingers pull away only to be replaced with the well-oiled fat crown of his cock.

Turning your head you watched as he pushed the wide mushroom into your tight ring of muscle, groaning as your secret walls gripped him so hard. His large hands pulled your cheeks apart and he spat on his dick as he started to push into you, filling you, parting your walls with his meaty girth. You could feel every vein and ridge as he pushed harder, reaching around and rubbing at your clit whilst he rocked his hips back and forth before he was finally balls deep in your ass.

“So fuckin’ good, feel so tight around my dick Baby, taking me so well... “

His mouth was as dirty as you had hoped, praising you for taking his dick in your ass as he started to fuck you, pushing his legs open to widen your own and allow him in even deeper. Your hands scrambled at the covers trying to find something to grip onto, some sort of purchase, before he was suddenly pulling your arms behind your back and gripping your wrists with his massive hands. Folding your arms across your sweat drenched back he used them to anchor himself as he fucked your ass even harder, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you as your empty cunt ached to be filled. As if reading your thoughts - or you could even have said it aloud, who knows you were so high on pleasure - he grasped your arms in one large hand before curling the other arm beneath you, pushing three fingers into your soaked pussy as he fucked your ass so hard you doubted you’d be able to sit down for a week without feeling it.

“Fuck… gonna cum Baby, gonna fill this ass with cum so deep…”

“Yes... Chris, FUCK, fuck my ass, I want your cum…”

“My fucking gorgeous anal cum slut, your cunt is gorgeous, but I’m gonna fuck this ass from now on… never had an ass this good, this tight… gonna have you gaping by the time I’ve finished with you… my cum dripping down your legs, gonna make sure you never wear panties again, need you ready for me to bend you over and push my dick up this tight ass to fill you with another load…”

Your orgasm took over, gripping Chris’s dick and fingers so hard it set his orgasm off, a second wave of your orgasm so intense that as you felt your body milking Chris, the room went dark and you blacked out.

The room was dark, the sound of rain outside soothing to your ears as you tried to figure out where you were, then snippets of your memory came back; your car, the garage, Chris… the storm… fucking him… Turning you saw him quietly asleep beside you, you winced as your muscles protested against moving, but the need for water and the bathroom was too much as you quickly slipped out of the room.

Having found the bathroom, you attempted to clean yourself up a little before walking through the small cabin to the kitchen, taking a glass from the counter before filling it and drinking the whole thing at the sink and filling it again. Two warm hands wrapped themselves around your naked body from behind, warm lips and a rough beard found your neck and Chris started to kiss along your shoulders, his hands finding your naked breasts as he cupped them whilst grinding his hard dick into the crease of your ass. Setting the glass down you spread your legs a little wider, and a warm hum of appreciation reverberated through Chris’s chest as he dipped his hips whilst pushing you forwards over the old porcelain sink, the smooth crown of his dick pushing against your used asshole, and you felt the pop as he sank into your cum soaked walls.

Groaning as you leaned forwards and gripped the cool porcelain, you opened yourself up for him as he ploughed into your murky depths, his thick thighs pushing your legs wide apart before he lifted one of your knees until it was resting on the countertop, your other foot only just reaching the floor as you were stood on your toes, Chris fucking your ass harder this time, gripping your hips as he filled you again and again. His hands moved to your breasts and he pinched your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling the hardened teats until they were painfully hard. Snaking his hands up your front he wrapped his fingers over your shoulders so he could pull you back onto him harder, his thrusts increasing in speed. Your cunt was leaking juices down your inner thighs, and with each thrust his heavy sac would slap against it, reminding you of its emptiness, and you found yourself begging;

“Chris please… fill my pussy…”

Chuckling he pulled one hand down and spat on it before pushing three fingers into you, all whilst continuing to fill your ass with his fat cock;

“You like that? You like having all your holes stuffed? You’re just begging to be filled, used, fucked…”

“Oh fuck… harder… fuck me harder…”

With a grunt he increased the speed of his thrusts, the front of your thighs pushing painfully against the sink, your leg muscles screaming at the way you were stretched wide open, but the pleasure was too intense to stop, you needed it, you needed the release.

You came again and Chris fucked you straight through it, somehow finding the skill to fuck you even harder, sliding a fourth finger into your slick channel as he stretched you so wide. Your head swam, the sound of the storm outside closing the world in around you, and as you came again so did he, filling your ass with another load of his cum.

Afterwards he carried you to his bed, wrapping his hard body around yours as you fell into a dreamless sleep, the reality of the world far far away.

Handing over the keys you smiled at Chris as you took them from him. Your body ached and was sore beyond belief, but it was certainly a night to remember. You had slept in until well past midday, only waking when your stomach had growled from not eating anything. Picking at some leftovers in Chris’s fridge, you’d found your soaked sundress draped over the back of a kitchen chair, pulling it on you shivered at the damp touch of the fabric before you’d stepped out of the cabin and found Chris fitting the parts he’d had on overnight delivery to your car. The bill had been more than you had expected - the parts costing more than you had in your purse - so when Chris had smirked at you and suggested an alternative payment, you had sighed with pleasure as he’d fucked you bent over the hood of your car, his dick filling your cunt as he had three fingers stretching your ass. You’d cum so hard you were left shaking, and he had pulled out just before he came only to push an inch into your ass and fill you with another load of his cum.

With your keys in hand you kissed him, your tongues sloppy before you pulled away just as the sound of tyres could be heard on the rough gravel of his driveway, another tow truck pulling up alongside Chris’s.

Sitting in your car you gave him a wave as you pulled away, watching the garage disappear into the distance before you turned your attention onto the road ahead, pulling out onto the dry again asphalt, another summer storm starting to gather on the horizon.

Not thirty minutes later you were standing at the side of the road, kicking the flat tyre before screaming out at the sky in frustration. You checked your cell phone, groaning when you saw the out of service sign, before stashing it back in your purse.

The sound of an old diesel engine could be heard in the distance, and you looked up to the sky before closing your eyes;

“No… it can’t be…”

Taking a deep breath with your eyes still closed, you heard the engine get closer until it came to an idle beside you, and familiar voice greeting you;

“Baby… you need a ride?”

Chris hopped out of the cab, slipping his hand beneath your dress and giving your ass a squeeze;

“Gotta watch out for that sharp gravel, it’ll blow tyres out real bad…”

Sitting in the cab you watched as Chris hooked your car back onto the tow truck, before ducking back inside the truck, this time just the two of you;

“Where’s Dodger?”

“Sleeping on the porch… Now, we’re gonna have to order you a new tyre Baby…”

“Let me guess, it’ll be delivered overnight?”

He leant back and started to unbutton his jeans;

“You never got to taste my dick last night… how about you try it now whilst I finger that ass ready for the next round? Huh Baby?”

Settling onto your knees on the wide seat, you took him into your mouth, sucking him as he started the truck, unaware of the rusty nail that he dropped into the pocket of the door, a small piece of tyre rubber still attached to it… he’d found you, and he wasn’t about to let you drive off into the sunset...

#chris evans fanfic #mechanic Chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #dub-con #dubious consent #chris evans smut #dark fic

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bluebuckstallion · 3 years ago

Text

the sun will rise again - mlp fic

part two this is part one! part two and so on will be updated/reblogged when they are out! contents: aj and big mac are like. 13 and 15. big mac realizes she is a trans woman, and is guided by applejack, but there is much more to it than just that lol. its also a little hard for her. sappy, feel-good, tough internal conflict but overall happy fic. paragraph one is previewed here, the rest is below the cut! (note: i am aware my blog makes posts a little hard to read bc of a glitch, i am trying to fix it at the moment, i apologize D: i rec reading it on tumblr mobile or highlighting the words as you read, im sorry!)

Big Mac shuffled his hooves awkwardly. Racing thoughts fought furiously, cluttering his hurting head, and he put a weary hoof against his temple in an attempt to clear the fog. No avail. It was as strong as ever, the rushing current of rip tide sweeping him in the more he struggled. He insisted he'd never felt this way before, trying violently to shake away the thought, it made him shudder. But deep down somewhere he knew, he couldn't hide this strong feeling he'd become so familiar with. It felt like home, but he was trapped inside with the windows boarded and the floorboards were so old they were making him fall through with every step, and there were thick dusty cobwebs everywhere he tried to rest his burdened hooves. He couldn't leave. Outside of his overflowing head, there was a faint knocking at his door, though he had tuned it out completely. His thoughts whirled, and everything was making *so* much noise, the ceiling fan, the electricity in the walls, the birds outside, even the trees being rustled by the evening wind. Everything was so loud, and so muffled and far away, so close and inside his ears, they twitched eagerly trying to bat the harsh noise away, all collected into one horrid ear-piercing amalgamation of staticy sound. His fur was disturbed by his blankets, and his teeth felt uncomfortable as they grit desperately in an attempt to relax, his eyes were dry despite how much and how hard he was blinking, it felt like even the smallest thing would throw him overboard in this thundering storm of unsettlement. -

The knocking got louder. "Big Mac!" The sound was lost in the chaos of it all, but it prevailed. "Big Mac!" There it was again. It didn't quite reach him yet, though. But my, was it there. Incessant. Pounding. Oh, the headache of it all. Just adding to the pile. It hesitated. "Big Mac." The gentle coo reached him, piercing through the overwhelmingly loud silence in the air, he felt this odd choking sensation in his throat when he registered the voice, so familiar and so loving. But would it continue to be after this? The thought scared him. Fear struck his spine in striking bolts, waves of dread sulked, creeping in and making their nest in his aching body. He was so tired of coming back to this again and again, but it plagued his mind like a cold. He realized his internal monologue had been ongoing - even though it hadn't really spoke - but alas he had been lost in his own downward spiral of paranoia again, and had forgotten to respond. "Yu- uh- eeyup?" he stuttered out like he was drowning, he felt and sounded like a silly foal learning to walk for the first time again. He pushed his hoof lightly against his throat, shocked at his own lack of voice. Usually he was calm and confident, knowing what he wanted to say, despite how little it ever was. However he feared this would give way to his sister finding out, that she would know something was awry with him. "Can I, uh, come in?" the voice questioned. He nodded, then processed he had forgotten to use his words, and managed a sheepish "Yup." "Uh, okay." She responded equally as softly, her voice leaving a tinge of confusion to be interpreted. Applejack trotted in, her hooves making the wood beneath her creak as the old house settled. She nudged the door shut behind her nonchalantly with her back hoof, not taking her gaze off of what was ahead of her. She made a gesture towards Big Mac's bed and tilted her head, knowing he was a horse of few words, moreso when he got this way. And goodness, how he could manage to get into his own head. Applejack understood the feeling, more than he was letting on. Applejack got up and sat down awkwardly, glancing at her hooves as they, too, dragged over one another slowly, she never did like eye contact. Big Mac was more fidgety - he was straight-up restless, as he clapped his hooves together ceaselessly, clicking them atop one another with a hard "Clink." The silence was substantial, but it wasn't like it bothered them, usually. It drove Big Mac up the wall, he was sweating buckets thinking about what Applejack could possibly say. *Did she find out? Does she know? Does she hate me? She hates you. She knows and she hates you. She'll never forgive you. She'll never see you the same-* his thoughts were cut off abruptly. "So, big brother," she chuckled stiffly, "what's on your mind?" Blunt and to the point. She looked upward briefly, catching a glimpse of his face, caught in an uncomfortable twist as his mouth hung downward and his eyes sunk, staring blankly ahead. Neither of them looked at the other, but this again, was not unusual. When she said 'brother,' the word stung like a mosquito bite. It was barely there, but just enough to irritate him. And it grew bigger the more he picked away at it and gave it the time of day. Maybe if he just ignored it it'd heal itself, he thought. Her words in general hung high above his head, and he had forgotten to respond with the way he was over-analyzing it a million different ways inside. What was on his mind, besides this scary, burning question gnawing him alive? He gave a lackluster response to divert any inkling of anxiety, "Oh, nothing," and with that he kicked his back hooves loosely up, and they swung back down heavily in the empty air. What else could he say? The silence sat for a couple of seconds. Too long for Applejack's liking, she was growing a bit impatient with his lack of answers. She looked up and moved her head upward in tune with her eyes, rolling her head from one shoulder to the other as her lips pouted and she let out a quick exhale. She looked down at her teetering hooves again. "Nothing..." she repeated, tapping her hooves together about three times, give or take, she wasn't paying attention. "Oookay.." she said in a quiet tone, and the cadence in her voice had shifted after this minute or two of waiting. She scratched the back of her ear. "Well, if you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself." She looked up and beamed what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, which came out rather awkward. It fell just as awkwardly. She wasn't the best at conveying emotion, but neither was Big Mac. They had that in common. "Ok, I'll spit it out, rapid-fire," she said funnily, holding her hooves up and moving one in front of the other and back again in tune with the quirky enunciation of the last word. If nothing else, she was making an attempt to lift his low spirit. She inhaled, "Is it about me? About Ma or Pa? *Granny?* Baby Bloom?" and with that she exhaled overexaggeratedly. It took a second, but the half-smile she had faded from her face as he stood there saying nothing, simply folding one hoof over his other arm, rubbing it rigidly and looking away, and what she hoped was not true, had hit her. It was about himself. "Oh.. brother," she whispered to him, "You can tell me anything," she reached her hoof up toward him, pulling it back when it was halfway there as she winced at his lack of response, not even a lean-in to her gesture, but she continued anyway. She gingerly put her hoof on his shoulder. Becoming more confident with her comforting, she rubbed his back gently. "So it's about you?" He took a second, and nodded somberly. "Hey, that's alright. Tell me what's on your mind for real now, when you're ready. If, you're ready." AJ's voice, he found, was quite calming. Big Mac shot a glance at her timidly, then down at her hooves, and back up at her, but he couldn't look too long in order to stop the waterworks from coming. He gulped dryly and looked at the wall, and after the ceiling. He watched the fan dodder decrepitly, but so sure of itself, it's purpose, rotating on it's axis, again, and again, and again. He wished he could be so sure of himself, he wasn't sure if he ever could be, though. And here, he found himself envying the rotating of a ceiling fan. What an interesting moment, he thought sarcastically to himself. Was this really where he was at? He zoned out briefly, watching the blades go in circles, and then snapped himself back to reality with a hard blink, a downward motion of his head, and a squeezing of his hooves. "I..." he started softly and then trailed off. He sighed in dejection. "I- Well, I am me. But... I'm not. I look in the mirror, and it's not me looking back. I know that sounds... stupid, but it's not me. It's not like it isn't who I am, it's just not me. And I, don't know why. I mean I think I do, but I don't - sometimes-" He took a second to collect himself and inhaled, exhaling sharply after, he put his hoof firmly against his chest, as if almost trying to coax the words out. "I'm me, but I'm not. I'm not who I'm meant to be, I, I was born wrong. My body is wrong," he shook his head, like trying to shake the bad thoughts away. "It's not mine. I was born with something wrong about me, outside, inside I'm me, but outside I'm not. But - I'm not bad or anything, it's just that there was something different. And, you know that funny feeling of those butterflies in your tummy when someone you like says your name? I'll get that, but I won't recognize my name as mine, but I do get that feeling when...ponies accidentally call me what they call fillies, even though they don't mean to and fix 'emselves right after, and they act like it's so wrong, but I still get that funny feeling of, goodness. It catches me off guard in the best way... my heart skips a beat. And I know I'm s'posed to like girls, but there was something wrong about me lovin' 'em... it feels like. I feel real guilty-like when I start getting all lovey about one. It feels like I'm not allowed, like there's somethin'.." he teared up, "different. About me." He emphasized the last word quite significantly. He began to finish, not wordvomitting as much as he was before, instead saying it slowly, as if he was really trying hard to get his thoughts out. "I- I think, I think if I were born in the right body I'd be happier, but I don't want to change me, I just...want to change how people *see me."* Applejack raised her eyebrows and looked down, pushing her hooves together. She couldn't move, and she didn't. Big Mac's welling up had turned to a tear, gently rolling down his cheek. He held his breath, eyes darting back and forth from his sister's gaze - or lack thereof. Applejack held her breath as well. "Big mac, well - gosh." she let out staggeredly, anxiously chuckling, raising her hoof to her chest as she exhaled bluntly. Big Mac felt it coming, Roaring and Crashing. The water was surrounding him still, no matter how subtle it was before, it had been growing this whole time. Internal dread multiplying like a bilious bacteria, out to get him and cover him in it's killing spores. It must've been at least neck-high now. AJ chuckled, "Big Mac, I love you no matter what. You're my family." She looked him in the eyes, "It's gonna be ok." And there was the straw that broke the camel's back. It came through gently, like a soft breeze through his hair in summer, but it broke him so, so ruthlessly. He bit at his bottom lip and released, his mouth turning to a shaky U-shaped frown, and he bawled. Oh, how he bawled. He lunged for his sister's arms, which quickly opened for him to land in. Applejack huffed as the wind left her with his impact, but she regained control of herself and softly smiled, tenderly hugging him back. His head rested on hers, as hers on his. "It's alright big guy," she laughed. "In fact, I think I know exactly what's up." She pushed him off cautiously, and held her hoof against his shoulder. His tears subsided slightly, he wiped them with a trembling hoof. "Have you ever thought that maybe you feel like you're in the wrong body, because you're really a mare? I know nobody sees you that way right now, but I could start if that's who you really are." Big mac's pupils constricted, and he felt a leap in his chest. A mare? He tried so hard to push it out, but he couldn't. A mare. A mare! He let out a small smile, "A mare..." he then promptly shook his head. "But, I can't be. I wish it was that easy, that I could just be a mare, oh I wish so bad AJ," he put his hooves together and shook them, like he was pleading. He pushed her hoof off of him, sighing and speaking again, his voice cracking from the tears and raw emotion, "But I never could. I couldn't. I wish I could, but I'm not allowed to." he sighed defeatedly. Applejack chuckled, "Says who? All it takes is you saying you can. And I'll be honest, I feel like a lot of people don't give it much thought whether they want to be a mare or not - they just are." It all clicked. They, just are. He processed it for a second, and thought, and the thoughts slipped into words, "I'm a mare," he whispered. He smiled, the most genuine smile he'd ever shown. "I'm, a mare." He laughed, looking at Applejack. "A mare! I'm a mare!" His smile faded slightly, "But Applejack, am I still allowed to like other fillies? I figure now I'll have to like colts, that's what I've heard at least, and I really don't want to-" despite his concerns, he still looked quite euphoric. Applejack laughed again, "No, Big Mac, you can still like mares. It doesn't work that way I'm pretty sure." She rubbed the back of her head, "If it's any help, you can do whatever you want... What feels right." She closed her mouth and grinned, waving her hoof in the air dismissively of any negativity, her eyes in the other direction. Stopping, she looked at the ground and fiddled her hooves, "I, I actually know a lot about how you're feeling," she spoke nervously, cautiously, dancing around her words like she had something she didn't want to admit to herself as well. "I, know how you feel - about liking mares and, and the wrong body an' stuff. Feeling like your body isn't yours, it doesn't belong to you and never will, unless you make a big change, or somethin'. I get it. I feel wrong when people say I'm a girl, but I don't reckon I'd feel right with them callin' me a boy or something either - I don't think I really feel like either." She paused, cutting herself off, "I don't expect that to make sense to you, I know it's kind of weird and all." Big Mac thought for a bit, and then nodded, "No, I get it. I mean - I don't, but, I know you're you, no matter what, and I don't care who you are, you're still my sibling." Big Mac smiled nervously, trying to make sure he was doing the right thing. "And you're my sister, Big Mac," Applejack smiled back at him. "Now, how do you feel about me calling you by girl terms? Like, sayin' she, and stuff..." she struggled to think of an example. "Oh! Like, if I meet someone, I'll tell 'em "Oh Big Mac? She's my big sister!" Applejack let out a wide twinkling grin, feeling confident and proud with supporting her sister's feelings. "I, I like that." Big Mac said shyly, and she did. "Wait, how do I do the same for you?" she questioned. Applejack stalled, she really didn't think she'd get this far. "I think... I really like being called he, and brother and such. Although to be honest I'm not your sister and I'm not really your brother, and I still like other fillies - but I'm not one of them, or not in the same way, and - I don't know, it's a little confusing. I think the only way that I'm a filly is in the sense that I'm a mare who likes other mares. I don't really know what any of this is called," he voiced embarrassedly. "I wish I did." Big Mac smirked, "It's okay you don't, I don't know either. And we can learn together, little brother." She fluffed Applejack's hair playfully and her smirk became a toothy smile. Applejack laughed and joined her smiling. "Thanks," he said, quite gratefully. "To be honest, I've known this for a really long time, I just didn't know how to say it," he looked out the window longingly, "I wish I knew how to tell Ma and Pa, or Granny," he laughed a little, "and I don't even know how to tell a baby," he uttered, trying to lighten the mood a little after bringing it back down. Big mac grinned, "Why don't we go out to the orchard, little brother?"

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