#i think it was the cage scene that did something to me

[tbhimnoteasyonmyself]

15 Day BL Challenge - DAY 27

As Louis once said: on our way to 27~~ sdkjskdjskdjskd

Also for anyone catching up with this: my wishes for Christmas became true, I did get an album from my brother, he got me ATE by Stray Kids (it hasn't arrived yet but it will soon).

Top 3 BL Kisses

Asking really hard questions, tbf... I really like kisses. All kinds. So I'm sorry to most kisses out there, I'm sure you were all great, but I was forced to choose.

Number 3: TongrakMahasamut Beach Kiss (Love Sea)

I was calm, I was tense and then I WAS FUCKING SAT. The italicized "oh"? You know? The "Oh. Oh." FUCKING FELT THAT. This was the exact moment this series had me. I was shooketh. They are crazy and they are nasty and I was in for it. Man found in his house, glued to his seat watching guys being filthy on a beach.

Number 2: PatPran Rooftop Kiss (Bad Buddy)

I've mentioned this scene before for other reasons but if you know me, you know I'm gonna keep mentioning it bc it's just FUCKING MINT. The acting is so, gooooodddddd, ah OHMNANON, OHMNANONNNNNN... At least they're interacting again, right? Oh, well... But yeah, it changed my perception of what BLs were (or what they could be). From the lines, to the facial expressions, to the body language, to the intensity of the kiss... Absolutely stunning scene.

Number 1: JackJoke's 1st Kiss (Jack&Joker)

Jack&Joker made my Mondays better but no Monday was better than the one where THIS KISS happened. What a fucking moment... WoW... The emotion, the rawness, the want, the desperation, the desire, the LOVE... There's so much story being told right there and it's so... Well done. YinWar's chemistry is legendary and their acting is fucking real but damn... God fucking damn it, it was a pretty scene. Nobody is out there doing it like YinWar and we all know this. Big W.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: UncleMilk's Goodbye Kiss (Choco Milk Shake); FadelStyle at the Concert (The Heart Killers) & SandRayBoeing's Kisses (Only Friends)

What I love the most about uncle and Milk is uncle's understanding. He knows how Milk is and he respects that, the feistiness is not something that scares him and his avoidance of touch is not something he takes poorly. But also... When he needs to push him forward, he does. This all is shown in that kiss and I adore it.

I think Fadel and Syle got me more not on the kiss itself but on the context of the kiss. What it means. To both of them and to each of them. To Fadel is freeing, to Style it's caging but to both it's an expression of love and want. Fadel feels like Style is the best thing that happened in his life in a while, Style feels like he's probably the worst thing that's happened in Fadel's life in a while... And it's painful and gorgeous and NEXT EPISODE IS GONNA HURT SO FUCKING MUCH, HOLY SHIT!!!

Idek how to explain that scene... Oh, no, wait, I kinda do! (link) dkjskdjskdjsk But basically, I just think the differences between kisses are glorious, it portrays the relationships between each character so well. It was a bold move but it was a GREAT bold move. Shout-out!

[rei-ismyname]

I missed something

After @nadelige pointed out that Kurt seemed mind controlled/brainwashed, I missed the point at first. After doing some thinking, I have some additional commentary on the C plot - Nightcrawler and Psylocke's adventure.

In Uncanny #7, Kurt was acting weird. He stated his bizarre concern that Psylocke might murder someone, especially him, and then he teleported the two into the tunnels. With the caveat that Kurt hasn't spoken much this era, I don't believe that's something Kurt Wagner would say or do. It is something Charles Xavier might say though.

Why would he take them both to the Morlock tunnels? It's possible Kurt is the only one to pick up on Scurvy's influence, but I'd think the telepath would be a more likely candidate. An even more likely candidate is someone who's spent the last X months telepathically sparring with Scurvy. We find out later that Charles is kept 'underground' so if he did mind control Kurt to free him, this is where he'd bring them.

After the pair spend some time exploring, they come across Omega Red's cell off panel and don't free him. As many people pointed out, this feels out of character for Kurt. At this point Psylocke has an odd pause in her speech and says 'utt--!' for no obvious reason. I think Xavier took control of her at this point, possibly releasing Kurt.

'No, Kurt my old friend' is not something Kwannon would say. They barely know each other. 'A monster of a different sort is what's required' isn't something she'd never say, but it this context it's bizarre. Xavier would absolutely call Kurt 'my old friend' and referring to himself as a necessary monster is peak Xavier. Kurt picks up on the over- familiarity and the strange speech patterns. Psylocke saying 'I am needed' is weird, but Xavier as Psylocke makes perfect sense, especially if he's referring to Kwannon herself as the 'key... you bought me.'

Next time we see the pair, they're hunched over with their hair covering their faces - being led by Charles Xavier. He confirms that he was underground, suggesting that the cell in the Morlock tunnels contained him. He arrives as the X-Men are in a psychic cage they're unable to get out of. Only Juggernaut, with his Cyttorak-empowered helmet, has been able to move and even then he seemed to be struggling.

Here's what I think happened chronologically.

- Charles Xavier follows what's happening from his cell, taking advantage of Scurvy's focus on the X-Men and Trustees (Scurvy states he can't do two things at once) meaning he's not 'keeping Xavier locked down' or not doing it as effectively.

- Either noticing or deducing the X-Men are under telepathic attack, and possibly that Quentin is MIA, he reasons they'll need him to get out of it.

- Xavier takes over Kurt's mind, grabs Psylocke, and teleports them close to his cell.

- He tries to talk to Psylocke through Kurt, but ends up taking her over instead.

- He stops them potentially freeing Omega Red, instead steering them to his cell while monologuing about shit Kurt has no context for and calling her 'old friend' etc.

- He uses Psylocke to unlock his cell, whether through telekinesis, a psychic lock, or some ninja shit.

- Freed from his cell, he probably takes over Kurt and Kwannon. He arrives at the scene of the action and delivers a dramatic monologue.

It's possible this is all Scurvy's doing, but the focus on the three people explicitly free from his psychic meddling tells me it's the real deal. Is it ironic that he controls people like puppets just after Scott explains his reasoning for not wanting him around? Yeah, a little. Sure, he's probably going to save the day, but I've done enough speculating here. I think it's supported by the text and fits Chuck's MO, but we'll see what comes next in Uncanny #8. What do you think?

X-MEN #9 Review - Raid on Graymalkin 3/4

Crossover events always have a lot of moving parts, keeping track of them while driving the story forward in a coherent fashion has to be a mark of success. X-Men #8 started the event off elegantly, keeping the momentum up until the very last page when the two X-Men squads came face to face. Uncanny #7 muddled that up and didn't get a lot done by slowing down, but X-Men #9 is a worthy successor to the previous issue - it's kinetic and always moving forward, with enough variation in tension to make the big moments hit. Mackay seems to be hitting his stride, which makes me happy.

'They're not just mutants. They're X-Men.' Damn right.

Uncanny #7 put the brakes on by recapping and introducing petty conflict, though it did recontextualise the planning phase of the raid. Rogue came out of it looking petulant and irresponsible - something that I think it's healthy to just accept - I'll discuss that in her book. Here and now it's a problem that our Alaskan team have to navigate, the recklessness of allies blown up in everyone's faces. At least they've stopped fighting. As I said at the start of the event, one of the metrics I'm judging on is how well this event fulfills its promises - primarily a much hyped ideological divide between Rogue and Cyclops.

Immediately we follow up on where Kurt and Psylocke teleported to, after some posturing Kurt theorises that they're being manipulated. They start working together. Nice! This will pay off later without taking up too much space. Call it the C plot. The B plot is the POV of the Graymalkin command centre, with Ellis being the worst and downplaying the X-Men's effectiveness. Captain Ezra disagrees, while Scurvy confirms he's tampering with the X-Men's emotions. Importantly he can't do that and control the Trustees, implying that he was speaking through the Blob and Siryn last issue.

The fight between the two teams of X-Men and Graymalkin's forces takes up quite a lot of the issue. It's well executed with cross-team bonding moments and shows how well they can work together.

Ransom redeems himself a bit after starting this fight by stepping in after Temper is knocked down. There seems to be some chemistry there, which is cute, and also shows that Rogue's team isn't following her lead unthinkingly. It's a good character beat and a reasonable side effect of her poor leadership. The joint X-teams take out the trustees and Wolfpack easily, allowing conversation to resume.

I will say that Marvel has a habit of pairing dark skinned characters romantically, enough to give a slight creepy miscegenation vibe to me. That's probably its own post though, after my white ass does a lot of research.

The argument continues in the command centre, with nobody having changed their mind. Scurvy especially has a defeatist attitude, so Ellis slaps the shit out of him and lets him off the leash. It's revealed he claims to be the equal of Xavier telepathically, with Chuck conceding that he's a concern in the Infinity Comics, but what we've seen in this event has been pretty weak (except for controlling multiple people.) His offensive utility has been underwhelming.

Kurt and Psylocke agree that they shouldn't free Omega Red. Presumably they didn't read X-Force where he'd made a lot of progress reforming and responded well to not being manipulated or controlled. Kinda like Wolverine. I hope that's not undone.

The two X-Men teams are bonding even further, calling back to the old days. They reach a tentative agreement to collaborate, but then the sticking point from Uncanny #7 resurfaces. Ignoring Scott's valid question of whether freeing Charles is a good idea, Rogue insists they free him with no explanation.

Scott doesn't just disagree, he meets Rogue's absolute stance and refuses to allow it. They've both flipped to the opposite of their original positions. Scott wanted to break the prison and Rogue just wanted her people back. This is explicitly the leaders butting heads and Rogue escalates into accusation and chest poking.

Scott keeps his cool and explains his position, removing Rogue's finger from his chest. He makes an excellent point though it could be explained better. The guts of the argument is present, but he doesn't mention the many examples of Charles' oversized influence. He shouldn't really need to, though, and the closeups we get of Logan, Gambit, Magik, Temper and Juggernaut implies they at least think he has a point if not outright agree.

This is an ideological difference between the two, as promised, but it doesn't look like Rogue is coming from a place of reason. She doesn't respond to his argument or show any empathy for his uniquely informed position. Scott knows better than anyone what Xavier is like, having been his child soldier since he was 15. Rogue should absolutely know he has a point, too, but she's not interested in hearing it. Rogue delivers a violent ultimatum and Scott pushes back, standing his ground by putting his body in between her and Charles. It's disappointing in the sense that it's a bad outcome, but it's consistent with Rogue's cowboy characterisation so far. She knows best and isn't interested in talking about it. We don't actually know if Scurvy is still affecting them, as he's not controlling the trustees anymore.

Then this clown shows up, interrupting the argument. Scurvy makes a badass boast, though it's not quite clear what he's actually doing beyond 'psychic attack.' Nobody attempts to use Red Triangle protocol but maybe it doesn't work that way. It's implied he's a telekinetic as well, though his reason for believing in this 'dream' isn't fleshed out just yet. Working with Ellis I'd assume would be against his interests, and a new psychic rivalling Chuck should be significant. Maybe he's a product of 3K. My question is - if he can do this, why bother with weak emotional tweaks? He seemed reluctant to enact White Light Protocol but we don't know why.

Famously, The Juggernaut has impeccable psychic defences while wearing the helmet, so he tries to get the door open thinking they need Charles to take this guy down. I wonder if Quentin would be able to thrash him? Probably, though he was taken out last issue.

Surprisingly, Charles Xavier casually strolls up flanked by Kurt and Psylocke. Interestingly their faces are pointedly covered by hair, so I'm not sure this can be taken at face value. Chuck reveals he's not Inmate X and does a heavy handed title drop for the reboot line.

The issue ends there on another cliffhanger with Raid on Graymalkin to be concluded in Uncanny X-Men issue #8. X-Men #9 was solid, a slight step down from #8 but with the inherited responsibility to follow Uncanny #7's chaotic plotting and sluggish momentum. I give it a pass for that, though it would have been nice to continue the Rogue/Cyclops discourse in a linear fashion. That wasn't possible without leaving out crucial information and development so I give it a pass on that. Importantly, the promised ideological divide was actually developed. It felt like a genuine disagreement the two might have, and I loved the atypical layout that gave us the team members' reactions to Scott's reasoning. That's important as these people all have extensive experience with Charles Xavier and a stake in the outcome. Rogue came across as unreasonable and impetuous as she's been characterised this era. While I don't think it's a good look for her, I can appreciate the consistency. If this is where Rogue is at right now there's plenty of conflict and drama to be had there.

Part of the problem with this event's tension is rampant editorialising. We more or less know how this ends so the execution needs to be excellent. Mackay and Stegman have done their part really well, though I'll be reserving my judgement on the promise that needs paying off - the Rogue Cyclops Schism - for when Uncanny finishes the event. If that is actually Xavier I'd expect him to dominate the narrative but I expect he'll choose to stay as @mkpersephone theorised. That will be a problem for selling the ideological divide believably, but it's on Simone to land that plane. My one complaint about missing story beats is Scott's team being acutely aware of the consequences for the Raid. I think a reminder would have been helpful, preferably said to Rogue's face.

Looky look, a blanked out data page! How very Krakoan of them :). Who's your guess for Inmate X? Shaw? Legion? Colossus? Omega Red? xZibit? Exodus? Angus MacWhirter? Briar Raleigh? I've got no idea. Exceptional X-Men #4 review coming soon! ❤️

[stripesysheaven]

fmk jack, ben, sawyer 😁

oh you will hate this. i am so sorry in advance wifey <3

fuck jack (he’s a freak and i’m into that)

marry ben (yes it will definitely lead towards my death one way or another oh well)

kill sawyer (oopsies!)

[a-dreamworld-fool]

part 01 - part 02

part 01 - part 02

[divinekangaroo]

I hate writing the word 'grinning' but keep defauting to it for Jack Nelson

[quirrrky]

I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, AND ALL THESE LITTLE THINGS •✦ haikyuu

KUROO, KENMA, IWAIZUMI, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, KITA, ATSUMU, OSAMU and the little things that matter the greatest when you're with them

≡ NOTE ⋮ single as a pringle but I want my future relationship to be like this ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ these boys make me fall in love hard

KUROO TETSUROU

It's the way he always stays beside you even though you're both doing different things. He'll rest his head against your arm as you type on your laptop/computer and he was on his phone, browsing for some random meme or nerd stuff. From time to time, Tetsu will show you some funny posts he'll come across just so you can laugh at it together. When he feels the urge, he'll plant a random kiss on your shoulder; and if he still can't get enough, he'll steal a kiss on your lips and who knows it might turn into something more. There are times when he's feeling extra so cuddly and will rub his cheek against your arm like he's your cat in human form, then he'll feel drowsy and fall asleep.

It can go the other way around too when you're caged in his arms with your attention on your phone and his on the TV. He'll nuzzle his nose on top of your head and you'll squeeze tight against his chest, just shrouded with his warmth and scent.

He doesn't have the perfect family growing up. He's awakened to the the impermanence of things a little too early that's why just by having you beside him is more than enough. Just the simplicity of basking in each other's presence—cherishing all the time you get to spend with each other no matter how mundane.

KENMA KOZUME

It's when he treasures every memory with you no matter how small. Kenma will sneakily take pictures of you whenever you're just simply eating fries, you're busy doing work, or crying over a tearjerking scene in a movie. That one time you looked so beautiful as you attend a party with him, the one when you are slightly snoring in your sleep and even when you have your mouth full as you munch on your favorite food, he has an album of all those. He has even created a private Instagram account with photos and videos of you alone and of the two of you as a couple.

Sometimes you will catch him smiling while tinkering on his phone and you just think he's playing a game, but little did you know that he is editing a video of you and the both of you.

He has been content being all by himself yet when you've come along, his world begins to be more colorful. It's like he's playing Pokemon but the one he's catching will always be you and your cute reactions, keeping every bits and pieces of your presence in his life as the greatest gameplay he doesn't want to be over.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

It's how he wakes you up each morning. Hajime is always the early riser. Set aside the times when he'll surprise you with a breakfast in bed or the instances when you're running late, he'll nag at you so you can get your lazy ass up from bed.

What you treasure the most is whenever you find your head resting against his chest as he fidgets with the strands of your hair. The beating of his heart against your ear is like a sweet welcome in the morning.

Also, the times when you'll wake up to him watching you sleep. His gaze is full of adoration and filled with emotions unspoken. The way his eyes will crinkle in his smile as he say, "Good morning." You feel so lucky to wake up beside this man. Just seeing him you look at you like that makes you grateful of each waking day, getting another chance to spend it with him. You want to freeze the moment, wishing for it not to end anytime soon. Just you and him before the world.

OIKAWA TOORU

It's the pillowtalk you have before going to sleep. How you reminisce the first time you meet each other and how far you've come together. The sparkle in his eyes as he recall how much more beautiful you have become and stronger you have been, growing into the wondeful person you are today. His eyes convey so much fondness and love that they beam even at the dimness of your room. There's also something so special with the way he caresses the side of your facewith the backnof his hand as if he's trying to bury each dip and line of your feature.

You'll dissect your emotions together, the good and the bad. You'll both cry at the sad moments, embrace each other through the hurt and laugh at the silliest and most embarassing memories.

Tooru has always been seeking for external validation, seeing achievement as the metric for his success yet with you it's just so simple. You're all he needs to be fulfilled. With you, it's just so easy. and sharing every moment with you, every loss, every victory, is something he will never ever trade for anything else. For, despite everything, he has finally found the safe space he can come home to at the ebd of each day.

AKAASHI KEIJI

It's when he doesn't want to let go of your hand. Keiji has always been a gentleman, but he won't let anyone break your handhold whenever you stroll outside. He'll always have your hand in his never breaking away. His hold is tight and gentle, expressing how protective he is of you. His thumb usually carresses the back of your knuckles so sweetly and he'll occasionally whisper a kiss like you're his treasured princess. When it's cold, he'll slip your linked fingers inside his coat. Sometimes, he'll gently breathe out against your hand if he notices you freezing. Whenever your handhold will break, he immediately seeks out for you. He'll stop walking just so you can come back in his grasp again.

He has gained a habit of playing with your dainty fingers idly too. Sometimes, it can catch people's attention just by the sheer intimacy of it yet he isn't aware.

Even when you're alone and at home, he still reaches out for your hand. He has you in a tender hold as you watch your favorite show or eat dinner. There are times you'll wake up with your fingers interlocked with each other and it gives you so much comfort. Comfort in knowing you have someone to hold on to for the rest of your life and you know you'll never ever let him go too.

KITA SHINSUKE

It's the way he cares for you like no one else does. Shinsuke will always see that you have eaten enough and at the right time. You can't skip a meal when he's around. If you're busy and can't take a meal right away, he'll bring the food to you. Makes sure that you drink plenty of water and you sleep on time. He snatches your phone away when you take too much time with it even during late at night. When he's farming and you're at work, he takes time to call you during lunch, making sure that you are looking after yourself as much as he's looking after you.

He always checks the temperature outside and prepares the right outerwear for you so you won't catch a cold. Even if you have layers and layers of clothing over you, he'll still pull you close with an arm around your shoulder to keep you warm.

When it's raining, his priority is to get you under the umbrella. It doesn't matter if a part of himself is getting drenched as long as you are not.

He can be strict at times but he is easy to cave in and will allow you to eat your favorite junk food or sweet once you surprise him with a kiss.

Though he can be quite strict at times, he really wish you know how much you mean to him he doesn't want you to be harmed. Your hurt is his hurt and he just simply wants you to take care of yourself the way he cares so devotedly for you.

MIYA ATSUMU

It's because you're his perfect match. Tsumu often buys something in pair. People will see you wearing matching jackets, shirts and caps. You even have couple phone cases and wallpapers because of him. Whenever he has a new jersey, he'll give the extra to you so you can sometimes wear it together. He just loves seeing his clothes on you. You look so good in them that

Whenever he buys something in the grocery, he'll also buy one for you. If there's only ine pudding left, he'll share the other half of it with you. Always with you. He always has you in his mind and thinks of you as he thinks of himself.

Sometimes, he'll sacrifice what he has just so you can have it. He won't let you know about this, of course, but he wants you to feel that you have him as a partner, that he'll be with you in every step of the way and that he sees you as an extension of himself.

MIYA OSAMU

It's because he lets you mess up. Though it's obvious with the way he sweats and brows furrow, how he's so nervous with what the outcome could be, Samu will still let you take over his kitchen.

Normally, he doesn't allow any foreign hands on any of his kitchenware, but you are the only exception.

He'll let you use his non-stick skillet pan though he just bought it. He knows it won't come unscathed after your use but he still lends it to you and you know it so well. Instead of getting angry at you, he just laughs at your mistakes, carressing the top of your head and giving you a sweet kiss. He's aware that you're trying your best to impress him even if he is constantly reminding you that he doesn't mind making breakfast, lunch and dinner for you for the rest of your life.

Most importantly, you can mess up his brand new skillet or even his whole kitchen. He can always get another one again but he cannot get another one of you.

@pixelcafe-network

[theostrophywife]

thinking about theo glaring at you while you argue with him, pouting and crossing your arms about something so trivial. you know that you’re making a scene in front of all your friends, but you didn’t care one bit. this is what theo gets for telling you no.

theo never told you no. you were his pampered little princess, so used to getting his affection and attention any time you wanted it. but now, he was making you wait until after quidditch practice? that wouldn’t do.

so, you put on your tightest crop top and shortest skirt, making a show of chatting up fred weasley out on the field. theo spotted you right away, his jaw clenching as you threw your head back and laughed at whatever that redheaded twat said. it wasn’t long before theo landed beside you, discarding his broom on the grass like it wasn't worth a couple hundred galleons.

your boyfriend shoved fred out of the way and loomed over you. “you’re playing a dangerous game, principessa.”

you huffed, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “you’re the one playing games, theo. fred was only keeping me company because you’re too busy practicing to pay attention to your girlfriend.”

“you’re being a fucking brat and you know it.”

“so?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to glare at him. “what are you going to do about it, theo?”

the taunt didn’t sit well with your boyfriend. without a word, theo dragged you underneath the stands, pressing you against the wooden poles. you squirmed as he caged you in, squeezing your thighs together as theo yanked you by the hair. you whined, pupils dilating from how turned on you were.

“you wanted my attention,” theo growled as his fingers wrapped around your throat. “now you’ve got it.”

you smirked in return, having gotten exactly what you wanted. theo was incensed at the sight of your gloating. “don’t look so smug, bella. i’m going to make you pay for your attitude.”

theo traced your jaw before reeling back and smacking your cheek. you could already see the red handprint bruising your face. the force of it stunned you, but more importantly, it made your core ache, your pussy throbbing and aching for him. your boyfriend smirked, knowing he had the upper hand now.

“open,” he commanded.

you kept your eyes on him as you parted your lips, eagerly awaiting his punishment. theo spit into your open mouth, wet and messy as he claimed you with the degrading gesture.

“swallow,” theo said simply.

shivering at the show of dominance, you did as you were told. theo’s eyes darkened with lust, filled with a hunger that you’ve never seen from him before.

“that’s what I fucking thought.”

theo unbuckled his pants, dropping them around his ankles before roughly shoving your skirt up your waist. your boyfriend gave no warning before he thrusted his cock into your pussy, making you gasp at the sudden stretch. you wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as he fucked you roughly against the wood.

“not so bratty now, hm?” theo taunted with a dark chuckle as you whimpered in his ear. you felt dazed as his balls slapped against your ass, rattling your brain from how hard he fucked you. “all that talk and yet you’re bouncing on my cock, fucked dumb and speechless. how pathetic.”

“please, theo — need more —“

“please,” theo said mockingly. “that’s all you had to say, principessa. but you don’t seem to have any manners, do you? so used to me giving you everything you want. maybe i’ve spoiled you too much. you have to learn that some things need to be earned.”

theo pulled out suddenly, making you whine. he shot you a warning look before bringing you to your knees. the carnality written all over his handsome face only made you want him that much more.

“now suck my cock like the good little whore you are and i’ll think about letting you cum.”

[hemlock-dreams]

Horny brain! Activate!

Just wanted to write a scene of Spidey finally getting to indulge his colossal oral fixation. Wade volunteers as tribute! So here: 4k words of pure filth.

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

Wade's back hits the wall. He's out of breath, body thrumming from the adrenaline, pulse a hummingbird beat against his chest.

Spiderman has him caged against the rooftop access, an inky blot in the darkness, an electric shadow pressed up against Wade. Their masks are halfway up, and Spidey's tongue is halfway down Wade's throat.

Spidey drops his head to the crook of Wade's neck, leaving a series of sucking kisses that make Wade ache in the suit. "I win," he says, smug as shit, but Wade can't fault him for it.

It was a good fucking chase and an even better fucking fight. He just wishes he could keep the bruises.

"Yeah, you did," Wade pants, grinding against Spidey's dense body. It's amazing, a perfect end to the night, except Wade's not ready for it to be over. "Where I come from, winners get a prize." He says, hoping it doesn't come out too desperate. Or maybe just the right amount of desperate.

Who the winner is in this situation is really up for interpretation, but Wade wants to think they can both get what they want.

Clearly, they're on the same wavelength because Spidey grabs the tail end of the thought and runs with it. "I've got some ideas…"

The dark, masculine purr of Spidey's voice makes Wade want to lick into his mouth, so he does, groaning when Spidey lets him have it. It feels so unbelievably good to let himself want without compunction, to take what's on offer without having to break off pieces of himself to pay for it.

It has the strange side effect of making Wade unusually generous. Borderline pliant—especially when it comes to his favorite spider.

"Oh, yeah?" Wade asks. His vision is already starting to sparkle, body twitching under Spidey's hands from the venom. Wandering hands inevitably end up on Spidey's magnificent ass, squeezing hard, knowing he can take it. "You know what they say. Sharing is caring."

A hand comes up between Wade's legs, palming the erection that's been there ever since Spidey tackled him across a fire escape three blocks ago. He's not gentle, either. Wade pushes up into it, shuddering when the pressure doesn't let up.

Fuck it's good. But he's more interested in what's Spidey's got cooking.

"Here's what's going to happen," Spidey starts casually, cool as a cucumber. Wade's heartbeat picks up immediately. Spidey always has spectacular plans, especially when they involve Wade. "I'm going to get on my knees, and you're going to fuck my mouth. My prize, is going to be swallowing you down— as many times as you can take it."

The words hit Wade like a nuclear fucking blast, evaporating all the air in his lungs. He doesn't even pretend to think about it; just shoves his hands between their bodies and starts yanking at his suit like it's offended the honor of his house and name.

“I haven’t done this before,” Spidey’s voice is thick with anticipation, and the way he watches Wade unbuckle his suit, licking his lips like there’s a five-course meal waiting in Wade’s pants makes his hands shake. “But I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

His mouth brushes under the edge of Wade’s mask as he confesses, licking the seam of the merc’s lips before continuing down his chin. 

“Tell me,” Wade grunts, fingers clumsy as he tries to get his fucking zipper to cooperate- difficult when Spidey’s fangs scrape over the sensitive skin of his jaw, little pinpricks of pain and pixie magic that make his trapped cock scream in the suit.

“Been thinking about how it would feel on my tongue,” Spidey indulges, panting wetly against Wade’s neck. “Thought about holding you down and stretching my throat around you, wanna swallow till I’m sore-”

Wade tears the zipper clean off with an unhinged sound. Spidey huffs a laugh, something about being impatient, but he's far past caring. Fuck patience. Fuck the suit. Everything between him and Spidey’s ravenous fucking mouth needs to fucking disappear. 

It takes a few drugged, desperate seconds to summon the coordination, but Wade finally manages to pull out his dick, hissing in relief as he palms the throbbing length of it. He’s already painfully hard from the chase. The thrill of being so thoroughly roughed up has him leaking against the blood-slick leather of his glove where he twists it around the head. 

Spidey bats it away with a low, possessive growl that makes Wade forget to register the tired knee-jerk stab of shame about his scarring. All attention is devoted to the sight of Spidey sinking to his knees with inhuman, predatory grace, and the heavy curl of his hands around Wade’s hips, coupled with the sharp glint of his venom-streaked fangs, has his dick jumping like he’s been electrocuted.

Fuck, fuck— Spidey hasn’t even done anything, and Wade's on the verge of begging.

“C’mon, Fangs,” he pleads because shame is on vacation right now, fisting the edges of Spidey’s suit and spreading his legs as far as the leather will allow. He tries to flex his hips, but it’s no use. Spiderman is carved from marble, his hands immovable from where he’s anchored Wade. 

There’s barely two inches between Spidey’s mouth and his dick, but it might as well be a fucking mile. He glances up at Wade, and his smile is hungry and a little manic, tongue pink and lurid as he swipes it across his fangs.

“I’ll probably hurt you,” he whispers.

Wade’s brain rattles in his head. “Promise?” He begs, breathless because just the thought of it has him panting like a bitch. 

That was apparently the right thing to say because Spidey laughs and gets with the fucking program.

It’s been a while since Wade’s been on his knees for anyone. Even longer since he’s been on the receiving end, but given Spidey’s hungry enthusiasm, Wade expected to be halfway down the man’s throat by now.

But predicting Spiderman is an exercise in futility because instead of going to town or doing any of the normal things people do when presented with a cock, he bypasses it to press his face to the base of the shaft, inhaling through his teeth in heaving gulps.  

Oh, that’s right. 

It's been mentioned once or twice, how Spidey can taste Wade on the air, that their constant proximity means he can parse the merc’s flavor apart from the rest of the ambient soup of the world. 

Wade doesn’t know what that really means, but he doesn’t care because Spidey rolls his face against Wade’s skin, breathing deeply, fingers convulsing around the merc’s hips in fits.

It’s both blisteringly hot and strangely chaste— like Spidey is feeling Wade because he’s pleasing to touch, using his body to satisfy all the little urges he’s had to keep tucked away, just because Wade makes him feel good in some bone-deep way.

The feeling unfurls, rolling outwards till his legs are trembling. His hands scrabble against Spidey because his grip is the only thing keeping Wade from freefalling.

“Jesus, Slick,” Wade pants, trying to swallow around the sudden lump his throat, “You’re gonna fucking kill me, come on.”

“Pot. Kettle.” Spidey breathes, in time with Wade’s spiking pulse, “You’ve been driving me crazy. The way you fucking taste, you have no idea-”

Wade really doesn’t. He’s extremely fuzzy on what keeps Spidey here, but he’s not dumb enough to call his bluff, not when his gorgeous hunter leans back and rolls his tongue over the head of Wade’s weeping dick, groaning like the merc is doing him a favor.

The first real touch of his tongue has both of them shivering, and Spidey suddenly descends on Wade like a man starved. He works his lips over the head of his dick like it’s the world’s most delicious lollipop, leaving tingling iridescent trails in his wake as he kisses down the shaft.

Wade is transfixed at the sight, pulse rabbiting as Spidey traces over the scars with his tongue, dipping into the grooves like he’s trying to ingrain them into his memory by mouthfeel alone. 

It’s the hottest fucking thing Wade’s ever seen. In fact, he wishes he could permanently pluck out his own eyes to make sure it’s the last thing he ever sees. Then again, maybe it's good he can't because there’s no way he’s missing the sight of Spidey chasing a drop of precum like it’s vital to his survival.

“You taste so pretty,” Spiderman slurs like he can read Wade’s mind, or maybe taste it on his tongue— punctuating the statement with a debauched kiss to the leaking tip. “So fucking perfect, wanna keep you here forever.”

The praise goes straight to Wade’s head, hips jerking uselessly against Spidey’s iron grip. “You can,” he sounds pathetic. “As long as you want, all yours.” And he is, fuck, he is— for as long as long as Spiderman can stand him. 

“Yeah?” A pink-slick tongue laves the underside of the head, tracing the throbbing vein there. Wade’s vision crackles; it’s so intense, “Whenever I want?” There’s something deeply satisfying in the way his fingers dig into Wade’s hip, ten sweet points of bruising pain that makes his dick weep.

“Yeah. Anytime, anywhere,” Wade promises fervently, sounding like the lovelorn maiden he is. He’ll let Spidey blame it on the venom. 

That gets him a crooked grin, pleased. Spidey purses his lips around the head of Wade’s cock, content to linger, pressing torturous little licks into his slit. 

Now, Wade is a well-known masochist, but apparently, he’s got a limit. “C’mon, Fangs,” he moans, twitching against Spidey’s mouth, heart jumping when the head of his cock hitches one venom-slicked lip high enough to see teeth, “Let me in.”

That earns him a heartfelt groan and a shiver. 

“I want, but-” Spidey hisses, rubbing his lips against scarred skin. Lips draw back in a facsimile of a snarl.

Wade pulls at Spidey’s shoulders, impatient, “Your teeth? Trust me, baby, it's all I've been thinking about. I want it.” Wade’s cock is literally jumping at the sight. Want doesn’t even begin to describe it. 

Wade needs it; needs to see that pretty needle-lined mouth wrapped around his cock before he wakes up behind whatever dumpster he’s offloaded his body. 

Spidey stares at him, breath coming out in harsh gasps.

"Please," Wade begs, and it must be convincing because Spidey twitches forward in an aborted movement.

“Show me,” Spiderman says, then shakes his head, sounding unhinged, borderline feral. “No…Make me.” 

The demand practically creaks under years of habits born in response to having fangs that don’t retract.

Jesus, he really hasn't done this before, has he?

The thought of being the first person to sink into Spiderman’s virgin fucking mouth drives him crazy. Wade isn’t delusional enough to believe he’ll be the last but fuck, he wants to make it so good that Spidey keeps coming back-

He remembers to tear his gloves off before fisting one hand into the back of Spidey’s mask, tugging hard, forcing the man’s head back until his neck is a pale, elegant line in the dark.

His gorgeous little spider doesn't even flinch; he just leans into the pain like it's a gift. The explicit show of trust sends all voices roaring, and the intensity of Wade's desire takes him by surprise. Violence, lust, love, all the lines blur until Wade can't tell the difference between wanting to fuck Spidey or kill him— whatever it takes to permanently mark him as Wade's.

Spidey chooses that moment to swallow, knowing that Wade's eyes follow the motion like a man possessed. Fucking tease. Wade's going to ruin him.

“Poor itsy bitsy spider,” Wade's voice is a velvet growl as he settles his other hand around Spidey’s jaw, reveling in how the simple touch makes him shiver. Has anyone else ever reacted like that to Wade? “Spent your entire life with that hungry mouth muzzled, huh?”

Wade doesn't wait for Spidey to confirm. He can already imagine the man's civilian life, a sad snapshot of carefully regulated emotions filled with close-lipped smiles and pursed grins. A real fucking shame because Wade recognizes a repressed slut when he sees one. Something, something birds of a feather.

“Don't worry, baby,” He slides his cock up and over Spidey's mouth, watching the wallcrawler jerk and pant as he spreads all that shiny venom over his cheeks, pushing up against the edge of his mask, “I'm going to pry you open just to see how soft you are inside.”

Spidey grits out a wounded noise, jaw hard enough to chew through gravel. He’s drooling through clamped teeth, venom, and spit trailing down his chin in rivulets. He wants it, bad, and Wade wants to give it to him.

Spidey just needs a little coaxing, and the challenge of it, combined with Wade's frayed impatience, makes his touches mean.

“Thought you wanted this?” Wade cruelly squeezes his fingers deep into the bone, right where the hinge is, just to watch Spidey flinch and take it. “Don’t tell me you chased me through the city just to pass on your prize?” 

He presses his cock against Spidey’s closed mouth, pushing past his lips to rub against his teeth and catch against his swollen gums, right up against the sensitive glands.

It must feel intense because Spidey shakes and whines, muscles spasming under Wade's fingers as he struggles to fight years of conditioning.

“Was it all talk?” He taunts, pulling back just enough to watch Spidey fight his grip to chase him. “Is it too much for you? Maybe I should put it away-”

It’s a bluff because Wade is fucking desperate, but Spidey’s jaw flexes in response, loosening just enough to unleash a furious growl. 

“No?” Wade pretends to think about it long enough for Spidey’s grip to turn dangerous. Wade's hips might be splinters by the end, but that’s just icing on the cake. “You want it?” 

“Yes,” Spidey chokes out, and Wade gives him a brutal little shake,

“Then, open up.” His voice is all malice, the way it gets when Wade's face to face with a target he’s looking particularly forward to taking his time with. “Let me break you in.”

That does it. A full-body tremor rolls up Spidey’s entire frame, and slowly, very slowly, his jaw begins to relax. 

What a perfect, fucking freak.

Immediately, Wade pushes his fingers into the soft hollows of Spidey’s cheeks, forcing his jaw wider, crooning in pleasure as he watches bruises bloom under pressure. “That’s it, Slick. Open up those pearly gates, lemme see what heaven looks like.”

The fangs really are pretty- long and graceful, and absolutely drenched, gums swollen around the base of his canines— hypersensitive, if the way Spidey is twitching is any indication. His mouth is plush and bright pink, a salivating mess when Wade jerks his head up for a better look.

His cock throbs at the sight, and Wade reached his limit about two paragraphs into this whole thing, so he starts pushing, dragging the leaking tip past Spidey’s criminally soft lips.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hand shaking around Spidey’s jaw. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Wider, that’s it, yeah-“

Spidey makes a garbled, incoherent noise that makes Wade want to slam in. His spider is breathing hard and fast, hands tight across the merc's hips; Wade has to fight for every goddamn inch, earn every shallow, torturous slide into that glorious mouth.

The wet, needy sound that accompanies every slide is addicting.

“That’s it, baby, keep that mouth nice and loose for me. Let me give it to you, fuck-” he’s working his hips in little jerks, just dragging the head across Spidey’s drooling mouth, fighting not to come before he's given Spidey his damn prize.

Wade goes deeper each time, teasing both of them when he pulls out and dips back in, little thrusts that have Wade’s nerve endings sparking. Fuck, fuck, he needs more—

"Is that all you can take?" It's supposed to be a taunt, but the words come out twisted, desperate. Wade needs to get deeper; he needs to carve out a space in Spidey's body just for him.

Spidey makes a frustrated, guttural noise around Wade’s cock as he tilts his head. The new angle makes his fangs look obscene, like two gleaming daggers poised over the head of Wade’s dick, and his voice pitches embarrassingly high at the sight.

“In, wanna see you take it.” Panting breaths, Wade pulling as much as he can, pushing his hips at the same time, but there's no fucking give to Spiderman. “Come on, come on, c’mon, c'moncmoncmon-”

Spidey shifts, and Wade feels his jaw pop under his thumb, the final piece of resistance disappearing as he finally leans in, and god- Spidey's mouth is a fucking revelation, all scorching heat, so wet there's almost no friction, just a long, dripping, sinful slide.

Wade hears himself whine, a perfect counterpitch to Spidey's low animal groan.

It's too fast, especially given Spidey's inexperience, but the promise of bruising that beautiful throat from the inside out burns all of Wade's gentler impulses.

And Spidey sounds so fucking pleased, like Wade is everything he ever wanted, sinking further and further like he can't bear the thought of pulling back— like the weight of Wade's cock is more important than the air in his lungs.

“C’mon,” He’s babbling, comically delirious even to his own ears, leaking every thought right into Spidey's greedy mouth, “Take it, take it, sweetheart, it’s yours, all of it, anything you need, Slick, please—”

He's so close. The world is starting to go hazy, the wet sound of Spidey's mouth, the bruising grip around his hips, the chill breeze over his stomach, everything blurring together to tease the most monstrous orgasm of his life.

Right as he's about to tip over the edge, Spiderman retreats, and Wade nearly breaks his own fingers trying to claw him back over his aching dick. Wade's throat burns, loud and incoherent, a wash of white noise against the coming tide.

It doesn't seem to matter, or maybe it does, because Spidey just breathes deep and sinks all the way to the root, and the resounding crack of Wade's skull against the wall is nothing but a delicious accent to the absolute tidal wave of pleasure that swamps him.

Time turns to spaghetti, and by the time Wade floats back up, it's to the sight and sound of Spidey shaking, whining around the thick length of Wade's cock, nose pressed against the bone. He sounds pained, like he's hurting, or—

“Jesus, Jesus, baby, did you just-?” Wade shudders, staring down at Spidey's kneeling form in disbelief.

Spidey just makes a raw, broken noise, sounding as fucked out as Wade feels. He swallows, then nods.

His hands haven't moved from Wade's hips.

"Where did they make you? Fuck, you're so, —just— fucking perfect. You're gonna kill me," Wade chokes out, hoarse, twitching against the soft meat of Spidey's throat.

Spiderman seems to take this as advice because instead of pulling off, he sinks even further until his face is completely pressed up against Wade's abdomen.

It's immediately too much, and Wade scrabbles at Spidey's shoulders, hissing as his body instinctively tries to retreat.

He doesn't go far because Spidey fuckin’ snarls around Wade’s cock in protest, and Wade suddenly finds himself pushed against the wall hard enough to grind his spine into the brick. He’s pinned, completely immobile, save for his mouth- which is still running a mile a minute, 

“Fuck, baby, Jesus, you're a fucking lunatic—!" His voice cracks as Spidey inhales him, taking the entirety of Wade's shaft like he's going to find the meaning of life at the base of it.

He stays there for a long time, immune to the desperate, inarticulate noises tearing out of Wade's mouth. Wade's cock hasn't even had a chance to go down, and thanks to Spidey, is almost painfully hard against the back of his throat.

Enthusiasm aside, Wade knows he needs to ease up. Spidey can't be getting enough air— but Wade can’t pull back, not when he feels the tips of those fangs threaten him when he tries. Instinct paralyzes Wade, but the sound that Spidey makes, a low hum of warning, vibrates through his cock and all the way up his spine.

Those teeth press close, locking tight enough to be unnerving. There's no pain, not yet, but the threat, the mere idea of it, sends Wade's brain right into the fucking stratosphere.

When his ears turn back on, it’s to the sound of his own babbling, out of his mind on a heady cocktail of terror and pleasure, "Fuck, Slick, your fucking teeth, yeah do it, do it, do it, do it—" Wade’s voice is wobbly, wet as he shakes from the overstimulation.

Spiderman doesn't let up, forcibly pushing Wade deeper into the wall as he speeds up.

Spiderman pulls back and sinks down, dragging the sharp points of his teeth across Wade's cock over and over and over, carving shallow lines of blistering pain and pleasure that coil in the mess of his brain until they're indistinguishable from one another.

Wade is suspended, writhing in pure, terrifying sensation, and the sounds being punched out of his chest are humiliatingly small and honest. 

Spidey’s venom is shimmering on his skin, coursing in his veins, sinking into his fucking soul and staining the ragged thing electric pink. His entire nervous system feels like it's been doused with gasoline and set on fucking fire.

It's too much. Every inch of exposed skin feels flayed. Wade's cock is just a raw nerve, and Spidey’s mouth a fucking black hole, sucking every single thought out of Wade’s head with incredible violence.

“Fuckbabyfuckican't—" But he wants to, wants to give it to Spidey, but there's just no way, he can't.

Spidey doesn't give a shit about Wade's limits, because he pries one of the merc's hands from his shoulder, and Wade valiantly scrapes half a brain cell off the floor to pay attention when Spidey presses the bare palm to the side of his neck—

Everything slows down. Oh fuck. Oh fuck-

Then Spidey swallows and squeezes, and the feel of his fangs pressing in, his throat distending around Wade’s cock, under his palm-

That’s it. Game over. Wade’s entire body locks up, muscles convulsing as Spidey wrenches his second orgasm from the fucking pits of hell. He comes so hard his teeth ache. It lasts for centuries, time stretching and wringing out every drop of pleasure until Wade is whiting out, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He’s not sure he ever really comes back down; just floats just over the precipice of consciousness, just low enough to hear his own overstimulated whimpers as Spidey swallows around him, just like he promised.

For the first time in ages, Wade's head is blissfully silent, and he basks in it for as long as he can.

Eventually, the world begins to filter in, but Wade's body still feels languid, lacking the telltale bite he associates with general living.

Cracking his eyes open— when had he closed them?— Wade is treated to the sight of a very satisfied, very smug spider.

"Fucker." He manages, voice broken and rough with affection.

His legs are completely fucking shot, and the only thing stopping Wade from buckling to the grimy cement are Spidey's hands holding him to the wall, keeping the entire bulk of Wade's considerable weight like he's nothing.

His thumbs are stroking over Wade's hipbones.

It's hot. It's...it's...

He runs a soft hand over the fading bruises on Spidey's jaw and gets a sweet kiss on his knuckles in return. Wade's heart does something funny in his chest, but the accompanying feeling isn't funny in the slightest.

Then Spidey nips the thumb, grinning wide, a little drunk and a lot vicious. The broken rasp of his voice straight up rewires the pleasure centers of Wade's brain, “Again?”

Wade feels the addiction forming, physically impossible but there all the same. And like every substance abuse story, Spidey is going to eat Wade alive from the inside out.

What a way to go.

"Yeah," Wade grins. "C'mon sweetheart, let's see if you can actually kill me this time."

[oukabarsburgblr]

drabble...

"I love you."

Daisuke kissed the face of the sleeping man beside him, both naked under the duvet covers. The large window panels adjacent to them had maroon curtains shielding the striking shine of the early morning.

Some had managed to peek through, peering inside managing to give Daisuke Yuichi just enough light to reflect in his eyes the beautiful man he had in his arms.

(h/c) hair tousled, skin with (s/c) ink and his heartbeat that was beating underneath Daisuke's hand was nothing short of perfection to him.

Lips pressed into the plush of (m/n)'s cheek, Daisuke peppering kisses all over his face again. "I love you. I love you so much." He pressed another one into his forehead and it woke the (h/c).

"Daisuke..." Groaning, (m/n) winced when he tried to turn his body, feeling a sharp ache striking his bottom. "What are you doing?" The ravenette who placed his face close to the (h/c), his beefy arms caging his body, grinned.

"Nothing."

(m/n) frowned, his head still dizzy and his skin prickling, coated with the aftermath of their passionate scandal in Daisuke's room. He noticed the ravenette was hugging him in his bed and he pushed lightly, opting to leave.

He heard the latter whine and pulling him in closer, Daisuke burying his face into his shoulder. "It's already morning." (m/n) stated firmly, not wanting any other member of the Daisuke household catching him naked in the ravenette's bed. "And? No one's going to come in, just stay put." "Don't think your dad would be happy seeing this."

"My dad likes you. He'd be fine with it."

(m/n) was a bit bothered by the implication, as he managed to slither out of the ravenette's hold, sitting on the edge of the plush bed. He cringed as he felt something pool out of his stretched hole, the wetness staining the covers as Daisuke grabbed his wrist gently.

"Think' you should stay longer." He mumbled, brushing his nose on the tip of (m/n)'s ear, his other hand slinking down the (h/c)'s chest and near his privates. "We did a lot last night." "Nothing's ever enough for me." "Greedy."

(m/n) swatted his face, laughing at his flustered expression. There was no label to them, lovers- friends? Close friends, maybe. A bit too close perhaps.

A whine escaped his throat as Daisuke's hand managed to firmly press against his crotch, his middle finger curling past his hardening cock and dipping into the soft hole he had pounded into last night.

"You'd know me by now." Daisuke whispered, his lips grazing over his jaw as he took (m/n)'s lips for his to claim. The (h/c) sighed as he melted into the ravenette, leaning his body against the kneeling ravenette behind him.

Daisuke continued to finger him, fishing out dried cum and circling around his rim, stretching his loose hole further and (m/n) spread his legs ever so slightly, bucking his hips up against his hand.

"Mmff-ah!" He gasped. The ravenette pulled himself away from the squirming (h/c) just to press their foreheads together, their breaths mixing as their guttural heat began to rose along with the awakening sun.

"Stay a bit longer." (m/n) yelped when Daisuke's pointer finger hit his prostate, curling and mercilessly pressing into the sensitive bundle. His thighs shook as the ravenette began to lick his ear, cooing at him to stay in his arms for a while longer.

"Maybe just...for an hour or two." Daisuke smiled to himself, knowing they were bound to stay at least for half a day as he pulled (m/n) back to the center of the bed, eager to taste the ever-loving man that had warmed his bed for the past two weeks.

The man he had grown to love and cherish with all of his heart, pulling and grasping at his back with equal fervour and somewhere inside Daisuke's mind, he wished it was with equal love he had for (m/n) (l/n).

[END SCENE]

Afterthoughts :

I just miss Daisuke like a lot hm🥲

Ill edit this properly later. Until then!

[yovrnewromantic]

YOU BELONG TO ME

Pairings: Humanity-less stefan x reader

“Ugh, would you just leave me alone already?”

It’s bold of you to talk to him like that. Stupid too, especially in the state he’s in.

Your boyfriend was someone you would describe as a saint. Kind, cute, caring. But without his humanity, he was the opposite. He was hostile to everyone, getting on your nerves, especially when he shoved Matt to the floor when he tried to give you your homework back. He caused a scene in the hallway, practically threatening to rip out Matt’s throat if he so much as looked at you again.

Ripper Stefan was violent and territorial. You didn’t know what that meant for you.

Stefan’s hand found your shoulder, pulling you to turn and look at him. He lowered his head, making fiery eye contact to get his point across.

“Let’s get one thing straight, you belong to me.”

Stefan’s words send a chill down your spine, your soft, cuddle boyfriend, who used to sing along to You Belong With Me, is nowhere to be found and you’re left with this possessive shell of him.

Right now, he didn’t love you, he just knew that he wanted you and he was damn sure he was gonna have you.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you sneer. “I don’t belong to you, Stefan, so do me a favor and fuck off.”

You felt brave turning away from him, as if your words would sink into him, maybe make him feel something and switch a flip inside of him. Your words did flip a switch in him, just not the one you were hoping for.

Stefan’s large hand grasps as your arm. With an easy, singular tug, he pulls you back under him, forcing your back into the lockers behind you. They slam against your back, the sound overpowering your scared gasp.

“No, no. Don’t talk to me like that.” Stefan tsks, caging you between his arms. “You’re not in control here.”

Left defenseless, your eyes shoot around the halls, looking for someone, anyone, but the hall is empty.

Harshly, Stefan grips your chin. “Don’t do that,” he demands, tauntingly. “It’s just me and you, baby.”

The pet name falls off his lip in mockery. It makes you feel pathetic and despite what you tell yourself, you’re afraid. Stefan grins. “I can hear your heart racing.”

“Maybe because I’m fucking terrified,” you snap, voice low, trying to calm yourself. Stefan reaches out for a lock of your hair, twisting it around his finger before he lets it fall back into place.

“Good,” he whispers, an inch from your face. His eyes flicker over your lips for a split second his eyes meet yours and his lips twitch into a smirk as he fits his face into the crook of your neck. He inhales softly, and your foot bounces against the floor anxiously.

Stefan kisses at your neck with fake innocence, moving up to your jaw before focusing on your pulse point. His teeth scrap against your skin gently. Against your will, your eyes gloss over. You whimper. “Please don’t.”

“Do what, sugar?” he asks, “Bite you?” He jumps toward with his last remark, relishing in how you flinch.

You nod, fearfully, looking down at the floor rather than your scary boyfriend.

Stefan’s head cocks to the side ever so lightly, his eyes searching for your own. When they meet, you can see the familiar lustful haze in your boyfriend’s green eyes, but they’re darker than usual. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you refused to look away. Glaring at him through your eyebrows, Stefan cherishes your attention, licking his lips with excitement.

“Mr. Salvatore,” a voice calls from behind Stefan’s mean silhouette. “I think it’s time you get to class.”

You sigh with relief, your head falling back against the locker. “Ric.”

Stefan hardly looks away from you, barely sparing Alaric a glance as he eagerly tries to engage your intense eye contact. “In a minute.”

“No, now.”

“We’ll finish this later,” Stefan whispers in your ear, nipping at it as a threat disguised with playfulness as he pulls away.

If looks could kill, Alaric would be dead the second Stefan turned away from you, bumping his shoulder as he headed to class.

“Thank you,” you gush, hiding your face in your hands, desperate not to cry.

Alaric looks at you with sympathy. “Get to class,” he says. “We’ll deal with him after.”

in my tvd phase 🫀🫀

unedited

[nahla-art]

Took me over a month but I finally finished working on this comic based on a scene from The Penguin And The Peacock!

original text under cut

Oswald quickly found himself overwhelmed with the party and once he found an opening he slipped away to the back alley for a smoke. 

He admired the cane as he smoked, and took peace in the chill Gotham air and the quiet that surrounded it. There was a certain sense of emptiness that hung heavy in the air, and he let it settle over his shoulder. He may have been a king, but Gotham was a god, and he bent to her commands.

“ Long and elegant, she settles comfortably between your hands. You share a kiss, and she leaves your lips ashen-cold. You chase her for a second, knowing that she’d drop poison into your chest.” A voice spoke up somewhere close, and Oswald felt air stolen from his chest. 

He turned around sharply and spoke softly, “ A cigarette.” 

Edward Nygma stood at the end of the alley in a bright green suit. His presence overwhelmed the city. As The Riddler’s heavy footfalls shrunk the distance between them, Oswald made out more of his physique. Wild unkempt hair shone under the blue iceberg lights, and purple bruises dotted his cheekbone. Oswald wanted to reach out and touch his cheek. He wanted Edward to hiss at the contact but lean into his palm regardless. Every cell in his being called out to him, and all he could do was hold onto his cane so he wouldn’t fall over.

“ You’re out,” Edward said, close but not close enough.

Oswald swallowed, pushing the cigarette into the wall, afraid he’d burn his fingers, “ I’m out.” 

Edward didn’t look at him, not really, “ You had a fun stay.” 

“ I managed,” Oswald said, slight irritation building under his skin,  “ You’ve had a busy schedule.” 

“ I made my presence known as The Riddler, as you made yours as The Penguin.” 

Oswald said nothing, not really sure what to say. His mind screeched.

Edward opened up his palm, angling his head at the cane. Oswald wordlessly handed it over, mind getting stuck on the slight brush of their fingers.

Edward whistled, hands tracing the dents and the scratches, “ The late Don Falcone kept it in his manor, did you know that? “ 

“ I didn’t,” Oswald said, words small and breath too shallow. 

“ You took your revenge from him, and from Sofia, Etchison, Dent, and Ogilvy,” Edward said, hands on the cane, “ Even the landlord that insulted your mother once suffered for her sin,” 

Something felt off. Something felt cold. Oswald couldn’t look at him. 

“ You’re a funny one, Mr Cobblepot,” Edward said, looming over him, “ You cast judgment. You carry out punishment. For your mother’s death, you burned Gotham to the ground.  You blamed Don Falcone, you blamed Sofia, you blamed the city but you didn’t think to blame yourself— Oomf!”

Oswald pushed Edward to the wall. His whole body shook with the act, and he clenched his teeth as his eyes and Edward’s finally met.

He never knew brown could look so cold.

He held Edward’s collar and glared at him, “ I’m not sure what game you’re playing, Riddler, but you’re crossing the line there.” 

Edward smiled, empty, “ Now? Now I’ve crossed a line? After all I’ve done to you? “ Edward’d thumb traced the scar stretching under Oswald’s right eye, and the latter flinched, “ I hurt you, Penguin, I took away the kingdom you built with your blood and sweat. I turned your friends against you. I caged you in the deepest cycle in hell.” 

Oswald’s mind reeled in mixed confusion and anger. He pushed His fist against Edward’s chest. The other man’s hand fell to his shoulder and down to his coat. Oswald didn’t stop him, because despite it all he trusted him. Edward’s hand slipped into his inside pocket and swiftly pulled out Oswald’s pocket knife. With a click, he opened it and placed the handle into Oswald’s palm while the blade’s tip touched Edward’s abdomen.

It was only then that Oswald stopped him. He let go of Edward’s shirt and held his wrist instead to stop whatever this was. Edward’s other hand clasped over his. They held hands, warm in the coldness of it all, even with the blade settled between them.

“ You burned half of Dent’s face. You took Sofia’s family. You destroyed Ogilvy— Everyone who hurt you met their punishment” Edward said softly, pulling the blade towards him. It wouldn’t be enough to spill his guts, but Oswald couldn’t help but imagine all the blood and gore.

“ Almost everyone,” Edward was close enough, his breath felt warm, “ Almost. ”

“I—“ Oswald stammered, as his hand shook. He could kill him. He could kill Edward, “ What are you—“ 

“ Do it.” Edward said firmly, hands gripping Oswald’s with hurtful tightness, “ Oswald. ” 

Oswald breathed, in and out, “ You want me to— You want me to kill you?” 

Edward didn’t answer, or move. It felt like the very air turned to ice.

Oswald tried to pull his hand away, but Edward’s hold was firm. Now that the anger in his chest subsided and was replaced with worry, Oswald noticed how much Edward shook against him. He breathed heavily, and his stomach expanded against Oswald’s knuckles.

“ Edward?” Oswald asked softly. Edward lowered his eyes, biting his lips as he held onto Oswald, “ Eddie. What— what are you doing?” 

“ You have to kill me.” Edward said, broken, “ Please, Oswald. I can’t—”

“ I—”

“ Is this my punishment?” Edward asked, voice small, “ For you to not spare a glance?”

“ I don’t understand what you’re saying—“ 

Edward took a deep breath, hands shaking, “ It’s driving me nuts! I’m not sure what you’re going to do. How you’re going to … Punish me. Maybe this is it— You’re tormenting me with my own mind, but I want it to end. I want to stop thinking. For the sake of our friendship, be kind to me.” 

“ Edward I’m not punishing you,” Oswald said shakily, taking advantage of Edward’s small moment of weakness to step away, “ I’m not— there is no punishment for you. “

Edward blinked, “ What are you— This doesn’t make any sense. You have to punish me.”

“ but I don’t want to.”

“ Why?” Edward pulled him in again, bringing the knife to his throat, “ Stop this. Please I’m— I don’t. Oswald please .”  

“ I love you.” Oswald said softly, “ It’s- that’s why. I love you. You’re forgiven.” 

” You’re lying.”

“ I’m not.” 

“ This is cruel,” Edward’s breath hitched, “ You’re—“ 

“ I loved you for long,” Oswald titled his hand, the one holding the knife, so he could wipe Edward’s tears without hurting him, “ I loved you even before we met.” 

“ How is that possible?” 

“ I was born with a hole in my heart that fits your measurements. I longed for you before I could breathe.” 

“ Stop— Stop it.” Edward gritted his teeth, “ You can’t lie to me.”

“ I’m not lying.” 

“ Then prove it.” 

Oswald took a moment to settle his nerves and look at Edward. His nose grew red and runny whenever he cried. His eyes were wide and swollen. There were hints of crow's feet at their corners. He couldn’t fathom how someone so divine could believe himself unlovable. He couldn’t fathom how he dared to plant that belief into him.

“ I thought you were charming the day we met.” He said softly, smiling at the memory.

“ You called me funny.”  Edward sniffled.

“ and I meant it,” Oswald said firmly,  “ No one made me laugh as much as you did. When you worked at the Gazette, you made the crosswords and wrote the trivia section. I was slow, but I tried to solve every puzzle, and I laughed at every pun you hid in the text. I remember the title of every article you wrote there.

Edward stammered, “ That’s a lie. No one liked those. No one could—-“

“ Trains. Parakeets. Beach balls. Strawberries.” Oswald listed in a whisper, a shared secret, “ Cotton, Trains again, Security systems. Lock picks. Lungs. Circles. Trains. You’ve written about trains 15 times. I found it endearing.” 

“ You’re just —“ Edward said, running out of breath, “ You’re just listing words. You- you memorized that just to convince me.” 

“ Why would I want to convince you? ” 

“ To punish me? To use me? ” 

“ I’m not pushing you!” Oswald groaned. He noticed the pocket knife between them and he wanted it gone. He threw it to the side and stepped back. He needed to breathe. 

“ I don’t want to manipulate you, or use you—I don’t want to do any of that.” 

“ You—“ Edward tugged at his hair, stepping towards him, “ What are you doing?” 

“ You insisted that I offer reasoning, and it is here.” Oswald huffed, throwing up his hands in frustration, “Edward Nygma, I don’t know what you’re trying to do. Why did you send that riddle to my hospital room?”

“ What are you talking about?” Edward frowned in genuine confusion.

“ I know that you sent the lawyers. I don’t know why you’re pretending that you don’t care, but I know it was you who sent them.”

“ How could you—“ 

“ You left a riddle!” Oswald said, “ In a green envelope! Even an idiot would know who it was.”

Edward looked small in a second, and his voice was even smaller as he said, “ I left a riddle?”

Oswald felt himself quiet down, “ You didn’t know?” 

Edward shook his head frantically. He scratched the inside of his wrist roughly, and Oswald wanted to stop him, but he was worried that anything he’d do would hurt him further.

“ You drive me insane, do you know that?” The alleyway was narrow. Edward was in front of him in an instant, hands clenched by his side,” You break me apart.” 

“ You asked me, Edward,” Oswald said shakily, backing away, “ You asked me to prove it to you.”  

Edward groaned loudly and pushed him to the wall. He held Oswald’s collar, and his knuckles brushed Oswald’s neck.

“ Threads.” Oswald fumbled, needing him to come closer “ Orange trees. Batteries—“ 

“ You delve between my bones, Oswald,” Edward’s voice grew low and quiet, “ You keep wrecking me from the inside and I—“ 

Oswald took in a deep shaky breath, “ S-Skeletons, signals, telephones, trains again. Really, Edward, what is your deal with trains—”

In a split second, the impossible distance between them was shrunk to nothing. Edward’s lips met his with overwhelming starvation. Oswald’s stomach flipped as he pushed against him to match him. A hand dug into Edward’s side while the other held the back of his neck. Edward huffed and Oswald repositioned their heads for a better angle, to drive them deeper into the avalanche.

“ Textbooks. The Amazon forest. Pyramids, frogs.” 

Oswald continued his list whenever they paused for breath. Each kiss grew more rough and desperate, and when Edward whimpered against him and shivered all over, they grew softer and slower. Soon enough, Oswald found himself in a broken heap on the floor, holding Edward tightly and kissing his head as the latter sobbed into his chest. Oswald rubbed Edward’s back as he bit his lips to cage his own mourning.

“ I’m—” Edward’s voice broke off, “ You’re cruel, Oswald.”

“ I’m sorry—“ Oswald said, pulling away to hold Edward’s face in his hand, “ I’m sorry— I— I broke you. Didn’t I? You’re broken. ” 

Edward sniffed, his chest shuddered. 

[fixyourwritinghabits]

No Such Thing As Filler

Okay, so yes, this is another post based on something I saw that irritated me, but it seems like this idea keeps coming up, so I need y'all to internalize this. There is no such thing as filler in good writing. None. Do not approach your work thinking you have to fill space in a story, I will beat you with this wiffle bat. Don't ask me where I got the wiffle bat. Don't even worry about it.

The idea of filler comes from a very particular place - when an anime or TV show has to fit in a certain number of episodes, but doesn't have enough content (hasn't caught up with the manga, the source material isn't long enough, etc) to cover those episodes. An episode has to be written, but the characters can't really progress, and so are given something else to do. Many a trope has come from these episodes, and they're sometimes necessary. Filler in this context is something that makes sense.

The dark side of filler is the idea that you need some space between Big Event 1 and Big Event 2 in your story, therefore you need throw anything in there to take up space and make your word count. This is a mistake I've made and I've seen plenty of other writers do it too, but it's a huge waste of your time. You do need something between those big action scenes, but you should always be writing to accomplish something.

Instead of thinking of that writing as filler, try to approach it with three things in mind:

Move Forward With Character Development and Backstory - Your characters barely survived a huge gunfight, and they won't encounter the big bad again for another few chapters. How do your characters decompress from that gunfight, and what does that say about them? Did a cocky character go in guns blazing, only to be deeply shaken by how a real fight works? Did that fight spark a moment of deep trauma for the main character that they have to reflect on afterwards?

Filling this space with meaningless scenes is a huge waste of opportunity. Think about how to dive deeper into your characters.

Move Forward With Plot and Subplot Development - The bad guy beat the heroes to the stolen gem, but they left behind a clue to why they want it. However that clue could reveal some painful truths about the protagonist's beloved great aunt... Carmen Sandiego???

A major goal following a big action scene is having the characters figure out what to do with what they've learned and what to do next. It's where romance subplots or secret relative subplots make progress, when truths are revealed and next steps are taken. You can absolutely do this in any setting - a flirty conversation while at the battling cages, a tense moment of feelings while hunting down a wayward chicken - but your main goal is making progress for both the characters and plot.

Move Forward With Worldbuilding - Worldbuilding has it challenges, believe me. You don't want to write a chapter on how an airship works only to have to cut it later. But you should still try to flesh out your world, and you should do so with the perspective of how to use that worldbuilding to your benefit. Maybe a critical scene hinges on the main characters knowing how that airship works, or that lake your main character often stares at is the setting of the big Act 3 Boat Battle. The weather can play into both perspective and emotions. Knowing what the main character's house and car looks like can reflect a lot on their personal character or backstory.

When you're struggling with a scene or a chapter, rather than writing filler, take a few steps back and think. What can you establish with your worldbuilding? What can you reveal about your characters through their dialogue and actions? What subplot could you explore or add in these between moments?

Filler from a fandom perspective - Now let me make this clear - if you're writing a fanfic just to have a cute moment between the characters you like, or you really want to force everyone to do that weird Twilight baseball scene, that's fine. You don't need a grand goal to achieve for every story, there's no need to justify your fanwork in any way other than you wanted to do it.

But I'd also argue fanwork doesn't fall under the filler label either - something you create, be it a character snapshot or a 'what if the gang meets Slenderman' parody, isn't taking up meaningless space. It's something fun you did that you and others enjoy, and there's nothing wasteful or pointless about that.

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

i feel like some of the fandom is a bit harsh on Monty... like, trauma is definitely not an excuse, but it does give pretty much all of his actions an understandable explanation?

like... Monty was actively being abused by Esther in practically any scene they were together. he said something she didn't like, and she yelled and grabbed him threateningly. both of the times she transformed him, from crow to human and then back again, she literally stabbed and ripped him up in a really gory way.

i sure wonder why an evil witch's familiar who's constantly treated like that would follow her orders even if he disagreed with them!!

and considering that Esther is potentially one of the only humans Monty came into contact with before meeting the others, and she's like that - he turned out alright, didn't he? he's petty, a bit rude sometimes, and takes things personally, but generally, he's a shockingly decent person.

yes, he didn't take it well when Edwin rejected him. but, as others have pointed out - how was Monty genuinely meant to know any better? he had lived his whole life as a crow in a cage too small for him, where the only person he knew was his extremely nasty and cruel owner. and then, all of a sudden, he's forced into a new body and has humanity thrust upon him against his will. he explicitly expressed this discomfort himself when Esther degraded him for getting "too emotional" for her liking.

"i never asked to be human. with all these... feelings."

even after the bitterness of the rejection, Monty never actually wanted to hurt the Dead Boy Detectives. turns out, he didn't even know that Esther's plan intended to end them completely, and was so horrified upon finding out that he made an attempt to lead them to safety, which was, by the way, putting himself at massive risk. Esther already punished him likely under the assumption that he just didn't put enough effort into manipulating them - can you imagine what she'd have done to him if she knew about his last-minute attempt to actually save them?

of course, i don't think Edwin was wrong for not forgiving Monty. he deserved that. Monty still helped in the scheme that aimed to destroy him. he also fully deserved to reject Monty if he wanted to (conversely, i do also see people say that Edwin "could have handled it better," but honestly, i don't know if it's just me not being neurotypical or something, but i genuinely do not see how Edwin could have been nicer about it? he was straightforward and polite, then afterwards, still tried to be Monty's friend until the betrayal.)

however, Monty was still very much a victim himself, and any harm he did was not from his own will, instead motivated by fear of the terrifying witch who had him fully reliant upon her, often through both verbal and physical force. Esther never hesitated to hurt him. he was painfully aware of that. she didn't care about him beyond how useful he could be. and when he failed at that, her reaction was violent.

but he didn't have anyone else.

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XIII

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Ladies and gentlemen be very careful because this chapter challenged me in a way I didn't know it would. There is smut. Who would i thought that I, Me, MOI, would write smut haha... I hope you'll enjoy it either way because it's my first time writing a coitus scene.

You stared at the body in front of you. You were almost scared that he would open his eyes and you would have to fight once more. You could take him. You knew you could and you would. Even if he was crawling from Hell, you would shoot him once more.

“ Is he…dead?” you whispered, never shifting your eyes from the man. There was so much blood pouring out of him. How were you going to clean him? How were you going to explain his wounds? 

You gasped as you were tugged into a warm chest. You lifted your eyes to see Alastor beaming at you. He began to dance with you, making you twirl in the snow while singing a song you used to dance to in clubs. You laughed as he nuzzled his nose against yours. You closed your eyes as you let him guide you in his dance, lifting you in the air before caging you in his arms.

“ You were perfect, dearest ! I don’t think I could have thought of a better performance !” he kissed your face multiple times without stopping as you laughed heartily. You cupped his face between your hands, looking at him with all the emotions you could conjure. “ Now dearest…”

He put you down before taking something out of his pocket and you couldn’t help but gasp as he kneeled in front of you. Alastor was kneeling. You knew him from his younger age and he was too prideful to show any kind of humility, ever, and yet there he was, in front of you, all bruises, bleeding from his nose and lips, kneeling in front of you with a red little box in front of you.

“ This is your last chance to run away” he scoffed “ but you know now that I can catch you.. But I’ll let you believe you have a choice.” he smirked at you, opening the box, showing you a golden ring.

You laughed, shaking your head, as if you would say no to him no. You smiled as he slid the ring on your finger, watching him as he kissed it and then tugged you against him, kissing you like a mad man.

You cupped his face as you kissed him feverishly. You needed air, but you didn’t want to break away from Alastor, you wanted his lips against yours. You pushed your body against him as he laid you down on the snow. Your kisses still tasted like blood but you didn’t care. You were rolling your body against him, wanting to feel him closer, more than ever. You were feeling hot like lava even though you were against the cold snow. 

Without even being aware of it you spread your legs so Alastor could settle between them. You moaned as you tried to push your hips against him, making him groan against your tongue. You nipped at his lips as his hand settled on your waist, going under your shirt. You gasped as you felt his hand caressing your skin underneath the bloodied shirt. 

“ Dearest… If you keep sounding like that…” he panted, staring at your face with dilated pupils. He was staring at you as if he wanted to devour you. Maybe that should have made you scared but you felt more excited than you expected. You clumsily took off your shirt, throwing it on the snow, keeping your eyes on Alastor. You felt your nipples harden because of the cold but you didn’t care. You only cared for one person right now and it was yourself.

“ I want my dear husband to claim me for himself.”

You bit your lips as Alator took off his jacket, slowly unbuttoning his shirt while staring at you like you were his prey. You did read books about sex, but you were still nervous. Would it hurt? Would Alastor enjoy it? Would Alastor enjoy your body?

You moaned as you stared at Alastor’s torse. He was beautiful. His scars were decorating his lean muscles, his arms were flexing with every move he was doing. You blushed as you felt a wet substance on your panty.  Were you really that excited because Alastor was shirtless? 

Alastor stared at you, moving slowly, like stalking a prey, or waiting for you to say you didn’t want anything that's happening right now. You needed to satisfy him. What were the books saying…? 

You quickly took off your pants, being only in a pair of bra and panty. From what you have read, men wanted to be inside women as quickly as possible. You blushed furiously but you wouldn’t back down now!

Alastor’s hand stopped you from taking your panty off as he bent toward your thighs.

“ I’ve always wanted to take a bite of those sinfully thighs of yours.” 

You moaned as you felt him kiss your skin, caressing in a comforting manner your waist. You gripped his hand as he licked, bit and kissed your thighs, marking them with his teeth. You tried to stop your moans but thinking about the fact that Alastor was the one touching you was making you lightheaded. It wasn’t like in the books, you were supposed to be the one making him feel good!

“ I know you are thinking about your stupid books. I’ll stop if you think about anything else but us right now.” he bit your thighs harder, making you moan. 

“But…But how am I supposed to know how to please you..?” you sighed as his hands were caressing your belly. You tilted your head against the snow, your eyes looking shyly at Alastor who had his eyes straight trained on you.

“ Like you always did. By being yourself.” he licked the marks he had made on your skin before tilting his head against your smooth thighs. “ What do you wish for ?”

You blushed, looking away but he took your chin with his hands, forcing you to look at him. You knew he hated when you were trying to hide yourself from him. You inhaled deeply.

“ I want… to touch you…” you whispered. He smiled at you before moving above you. You stared at his face, making sure he was okay as your cold hand touched his torso. His body was so hot against your hands. You caressed his skin, going toward his shoulder then his back. You saw him sigh as he closed his eyes, going toward your neck to kiss your skin there. 

Feeling him so close to you was so overwhelming and yet, you wanted to feel even closer to him. You timidly pushed your pelvis against his, making him hiss. You stop moving, trying to see his face. Were you doing something bad? You felt his hand dug into your waist.

“ Is… is it okay..?” you asked but before you could once push yourself against him you felt him tugged you against his pelvis making you moan. You could feel something hard against your panty and you blushed. Was it Alastor’s member..? You bit your lips as you moved against him, moaning louder. God, he felt so good… “ Should we…?”

You looked at Alastor as he chuckled against your skin. He leaned away from your body, looking at you fondly. “ Dearest, you must think I don’t know anything about sex, but, trust me, I know what I want to do to you.” he kissed your lips then trailed down toward your panty. What was he…? “ And as you know, I’m greedy with what I desire.” you kissed your crotch through your panty, making you gasp. “ If you allow me…”

You were blushing madly but you wanted it so badly. You spread your legs, your body twitching from anticipation. Alastor was licking you through your panty while keeping his eyes on you. You tilted your head back, your legs squeezing his head. You didn’t know what was happening but you were loving every second of it.

You moaned loud when you felt his tongue against your bare sex. You looked at him, he had his eyes closed, kissing and licking your vulva like it was  the best dish he had ever had the blessing to eat. You couldn’t contain your voice as you moaned his name, gripping his air tightly.

Alastor was eating you out. The Alastor you have known all your life. The one who didn’t give a damn about other people’s existence,the one who had never looked at other people as more than tools, the one who had just killed his own father was laying in the snow, eating you out like a starved man.

You screamed as you arched your back, feeling a warm tingle in your belly getting hotter and hotter. You were moving your hips against his lips without being aware of it, moaning Alastor’s name again and again.

And then you snapped.

Your whole body was shaking as you moaned his name so loudly you would be embarrassed if you cared. Your hips were twitching as Alastor recolted your sweet release with his tongue.  He leaned back with his charming smile; his lips and chin wet because of your pleasure and yet, he still had blood on his face. He looked devilishly breathtaking.

“ How is my wife feeling?” he smirked as he stared at you. You were breathing hard, tears falling down your eyes. You weren’t feeling nervous anymore, at all. You wanted him completely.

“ I want you.” you sat up slowly, taking your bra off, and shivered when you saw his eyes fall on your chest. You approached him slowly, pressing your chest against his naked torso and kissed him. You could taste yourself and blood on his lips. It was.. It was weird but not disgusting. You forced him to sit as you straddled his laps, kissing him with more vigor. You pressed your pelvis against his hard clothed member. You shivered as you imagined him inside of you.

Alastor inside of you.

That thought could have made you orgasmed once more.

You leaned back to watch his face. His cheeks were flushed, his breathing hard but he was staring at your face, his pupils dilated and this oh so delicious glint that was only for you. His madness was for you and only you. You nipped at his lips, staring at his eyes. You wanted to pleasure him like he just did, you wanted to show him how he meant to you. You remembered reading a book about sucking a man’s shaft. You leaned back, looking down on his clothed member. 

Sucking Alastor’s cock.. Yes, it was something you wanted…

“ You thought about your books.” 

“ N-no– Well, yes, but I want to.. if you want of course.. Do what you have done to me… I want to suck your… Well..” you blushed looking away. He took your face with his hand while the other was playing with your clit. You moaned, staring at his smiling face. He leaned toward your ears.

“ No. Maybe next time you will not think about your books.”

You tried to complain but you just moaned louder, gripping his shoulder, as he slowly entered you with one finger. He was playing with you ! 

“ Please… I really want it..!” you tried to convince him. You wanted to see Alastor lose control over himself because of you.

“ No my dearest, that’s your punishment for thinking about something other than us.” He grinned at you. You frowned and bit his neck as hard as you could, making him groan. You were moving your hips against his hands, his palm grinding against your clit as you bit him on his shoulder again and again.

You squealed as Alastor pinned you underneath him, breathing hard. You tried to take off his belt, making chuckle at your eagerness. He took off his belt slowly, making you whine impatiently. 

You gasped as you saw his hard shaft. You could feel your vagina clench around nothing as you looked at what was supposed to go inside of you. You bit your lips, laying down on the snow while staring at Alastor, spreading your legs.  You wanted him. You wanted him so much you felt like losing yourself to madness.

“ Darling…” he whispered and he pressed himself against you. You kissed his lips multiple times, your arms around his shoulder. You tensed as you felt him enter you very carefully. It was.. a strange feeling actually. You tilted your head back as Alastor was kissing your neck, trying to make you feel something else than what you were feeling between your legs. 

It wasn’t… that hurtful. You groaned as you tense your legs around his hips.It was manageable. You just needed time to adjust. You moaned as Alastor bit your neck, stopping his hips. He kissed your lips easily making you forget the pain between your legs.

You began to move your hips and smiled against his lips as you felt no pain.

“ Are you okay..?” you felt Alastor ask against your lips, a sweet whisper that made you feel safer than anything else. You were in the woods, having your virginity taken on the dirtied floor and yet, you couldn’t feel happier.

“ I’ve never felt better.” you whispered back against his lips. He smiled at you before kissing you languishly. You moaned against his lips as you felt his back’s muscles flexed against your nails. You were enveloped with his scent, his body, everything. He was inside you, in the deepest part of your body. He was panting against your skin, his hips moving faster. 

You scratched his back, marking him as yours. You both were one. In body and soul. You tilted your head back against the snow as your moans were getting louder and louder. Alastor was the only thing you could feel. The only thing you wanted to feel. You didn’t know where your own body started or where Alastor’s body ended. 

Hearing him groaned because of you was thrilling. This man who used to be so composed even when killing a man was having no control over his own body because of you. Those thoughts made you snap.

You felt your walls clenched around his shaft as you came around him once more. You heard him swear as you locked your legs around him, making him unable to escape from you.

“ Darling…” he chuckled breathlessly. “ I’m at my limit…” he panted, his member twitching inside you.

“ I want you to come inside me.” you plead.

His pupils dilated before he bit you on your chest, where your heart was beating. You sighed with delight as you felt him release his semence, moving his hips until every drop of his seed was settled inside you. You were stroking his back, like a silent apology for the marks you have made. Alastor was breathing against your chest, stroking your waist. Both of you stayed like this, sweaty, in a comfortable silence until you couldn’t take it.

You giggled before laughing loudly.

Alastor looked at you, amused with raised eyebrows. You smiled at him, kissing him once more on his lips.

“ I’m just happy..” you said, caressing the side of his face. He took your hand and kissed it, staring at you.

“ So am I.” 

You looked at him as he left your warm entrance. You were beginning to feel the cold weather now. Alastor helped you dress up, winking at you when you blushed because you could feel his sperm sliding down your thighs. Alastor walked toward the dead man.

Oh yes, you killed someone.

He crouched in front of his deceased father.

“ Darling, you should go back home. I’ll take care of the … leftovers.”

You walked toward him, embracing him from behind.

“ You don’t need my help?”

“ You already help me, dearest. I’ll just enjoy one last moment with my father. Go back to my Mother, she must be worried.”

You really didn’t want to be separate from Alastor. Not after everything that happened. Alastor must have sensed it because he kissed your ringed hands before standing up. You nodded at him, kissing him one last time before going back to his house. You did try to find the fawn that had miraculously helped you, but unfortunately you didn’t meet it during your way back.

You opened the door, you would have to explain to Marie why you looked like a bloodied mess. You walked toward the kitchen, you could hear the shower so Marie must be bathing right now. You saw two plates with a note. It was from Marie, she had written that she kept two plates for the both of you.

The both of you.

There was yours and Alastor’s name written on the paper.

You smirked before putting the note in the fire, destroying a possible clue.

Marie knew her husband wouldn’t come home, that’s why there wasn't a third plate.

You had to calm Marie down when she saw the state of your face. You laughed as she treated you but you reassured her. You were as capable as a nurse now, you have been treating your father since he came back from war. Those were nothing to worry about.

You could see her hands shaking but you both didn’t address the elephant in the room. She did pause when she was cleaning the blood from your face and neck.

“ Is that a.. hickey dear..?”

You blushed furiously making her giggled at you. You hid your face behind your hands as Marie was laughing affectionately at you. She took your hand and looked at your ring.

“ So, now, you are my daughter in law?” you giggled as you both began to talk about a wedding reception. You talked for hours, only stopping when Alastor entered the house. It was already dawn time but you weren’t feeling tired. He smiled at his mother and you knew it was time for you to go. They had to share this moment together. You stood up saying you were going home, refusing Alastor’s demand to accompany you home.

You hugged Marie and kissed Alastor cheeks. You wouldn’t kiss him in front of his Mother! But as you stepped out of the door, you were being tugged against a warm familiar chest, you closed your eyes as you felt his lips on yours. You smiled softly at him, caressing his cheek with your ringed hands that he kissed.

He let you go as you walked home. Your nose wasn’t broken and your bruises weren’t visible yet, and from what you saw in the mirror, you could always tell people you fell down the stairs because of the ice. You entered your house quietly, everyone was still sleeping, perfect.

You walked toward your bedroom, smiling like a fool. You undressed yourself and looked at your body in front of the mirror. You had hickeys on your chest, neck and thighs. You blushed as you saw white semence dripping from your vagina. 

You really did it… You needed to tell Alice tomorrow ! 

After washing up you fell asleep as easily as usual. You woke up around 11am, which surprised your mother when she saw you already dress up. You kissed her cheek with a big grin.

“ Where is dad?”

“He went to work, why?” she asked before screaming out of shock when you showed her your ring. “ It’s from Alastor, right? Of course it is ! Oh my baby !” she hugged you, crying from emotion. You felt tears in your eyes too. You didn’t know why but telling your mother you were getting married was… it was moving. She was already naming brands for your wedding dress.

You talked with your mother for hours before you decided it was time to tell Alice. You went out, making sure the hickeys weren’t visible. You talked toward Alice’s mansion, greeting the butler that was now used to you. You were brought to the living room, waiting for your friend. 

But you were surprised when you saw her coming with… Alizée was it? You stood up as Alice hugged you. You looked at Alyzée who seemed uncomfortable. Why was she here? Alice took the woman's hand and forced her to sit on the sofa. Well, you weren’t going to force her to leave, you didn’t know her, your only knowledge was from Alastor: she was the mayor’s daughter.

You talked with Alice, trying to coat Alyzée to talk with you which, after some time, she did seem more comfortable with your presence.

“ But I came here for news that will please you, I’m sure.” you smirked as Alice stood up.

“ Do I need to bring the wine?”

“ Yes.”

She clapped her hands, calling for a butler to bring three glasses and two bottles of wine. You laughed as the butler came with Alice’s order. She waited for the butler to leave before serving you and Alyzée a drink.

You waited for Alice to take a sip of wine before showing your ring. She spat on the table before screaming while Alyzée was smiling widely, clapping her hands together. You laughed as Alice shook your shoulder, looking at the ring then shook your shoulder once again. Alyzée congratulated you with a beaming smile making you feel relieved. 

You might have felt some jealousy for the beautiful woman in the past but not anymore.

You drank glasses and glasses of wine as you explained how you got married without the gory details. Quickly enough, there were three drunk women in the living room.

“ But we didn’t just get married.” you giggled drunkenly. You showed them your neck, decorated by Alastor hickeys. Alice shouted while Alyzée was whistling.

“ Oh my girl!” Alice hugged you before sitting back down. “ If we are going on with secrets, I might have something to say!” she raised her glass as you and Alyzée stared at her curiously. “ I… I am in love with someone and we are in a secret relationship.” 

You choked on your wine as Alyzée spat in on the floor. 

“ What? When? Who?” you struggled to speak as you tried not to cough. Alice put her glass on the table and watched you, her face flushed from the alcohol but she seemed worried.

“ I hope you won’t hate me after this.” she said before kissing the Alyzée on the lips.

Alice was kissing Alyzée.

Alice was in a relationship with Alyzéee.

A woman.

…

Alice was in love!

The two women separated themselves, looking at each other with love. You felt tears in your eyes as you stood up, making Alice stand up too with a worried expression. You ran toward her and hugged her, crying. Your best friend was in love, she was happily in love. You cried harder as you felt Alice sobbed against you.

“ I was so afraid you would see me as a disgusting being.” she cried as you hugged you tighter against you.

“ No, I would never!” you said before wiping your eyes. You looked at Alyzée and hugged her too. You knew it would be difficult for them to be in a relationship but you would help them in any way you could!

The evening went one, you’ve got to know Alyzée who was a very intelligent woman, a little more down to earth than Alice but maybe it was better for your best friend. You looked at the windows, it was already night time and you didn’t remember the last time you were this drunk.

“ Miss, you have a guest.”

Alice looked at the butler, confused. The butler stepped aside and your soon to be husband walked into the living room. You smiled with delight as he thanked the butler who closed the door behind him.

“ Ladies, good evening.”

You stood up, trying to run toward him but everything was spinning. Alastor walked quickly toward you and made you sit down.You giggled as you nuzzled against him. You wanted to tell him about Alyzée and Alice but it was not your choice to make. The four of you began to talk, whiskey was brought to Alastor as you all gossip about what was going on in New Orleans.

“ I hope one day, I will be able to marry you Alyzée…” whined Alice, as she hugged her girlfriend. Alyzée just smiled sadly before kissing the crown of her head. You looked at Alastor who drank his whiskey, he didn’t seem surprised or disgusted. “ I’m jealous Alastor is getting married before me! When you arrived, I thought you both had a fight! I mean, you don’t even wear your necklace!”

You paled as your hand went toward your neck.

The necklace.

You left it there.

“ Well, let's just say my fiancée left it at my house,” said Alastor with a calm face. He took something out of his pocket and you almost cried from relief as you saw your necklace dangling from his fingers.” So I came here to give it back to her.”

You sighed in relief. Thank god Alastor was there.

The  night went on as Alastor played the piano while Alice was forcing Alyzée to dance with her. You laughed as you sat next to Alastor, singing while he played. You stared at the ladies dancing with each other, their gazes never drifting from each other. You felt sad, knowing you would get married soon but your best friend might never have this chance. You didn’t know if Alastor felt what you were feeling, but he never stopped playing the piano and you never stopped singing, leaving the two ladies having their own fragile moments.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor

[almostempty]

Cargo

(joel x f!reader, din x f!reader, frankie x f!reader) | wc: 4.9k | other fics | Ao3

summary: smuggler!joel finds you and brings you to his partner in crime, with a side of gratuitous smut and a special guest along the way (full spoiler summary under the warnings/tags) 

note: this is for my lovely @auterdelabre, and it was inspired by the line you wrote when i joked about joel using “cargo” as a pet name (and a couple other things i had to mix in there) 

extra note: i hope this can bring a lil distraction in light of the heavy reality of today, fuck fascists – just don’t fuck them

warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, smuggler!joel, dubcon, oral, piv, degradation, ‘whore’ and one (1) ‘slut’, truly pwp - like the plot is just p, pls let me know if i missed anything important, weds warnings: doin’ it/fillin’ it up unprotected with no consequences bc it’s fiction and in the words of Wu-Tang Clan’s Ol’ Dirty Bastard in Shimmy Shimmy Ya - Ooooh, Baby, I like it raw; f!reader is able-bodied–this time this bish has hair that joel can worm his fingers into, no y/n, likely many mistakes bc i yam who i yam 

FULL SPOILER SUMMARY: crackfic crossover: star wars smuggler!joel finds you and y’all fuck, he brings you to his partner dark!din and y’all fuck, but surprise! smuggler!joel and dark!din were your co-stars for your independent porn. your bf, Frankie (who played the Mandalorian), is just so turned on watching you edit the video that…you guessed it! y’all fuck) 

The clear water rushes downstream, rippling around your legs as you step toward the bank and the soft grass. The sunlight filtering through the forest canopy makes the surface of the stream sparkle like glitter. But, you. You are the star of the scene. 

You glow like you’re a creature drawn from the sun and the soil, from the woods and the water. Crystal-clear droplets of water race along your skin, rolling over your curves and dripping back into the current to flow down, down, down to another body of water. 

You appear meditative, attuned to nature's tranquility, disregarding the universe's relentlessly unjust chaos. The ugliness and the violence. The balance. The dark. 

Joel lurks in the trees, waiting to make his presence known. Holding out for an opportunity to strike. He creeps out of the treeline with deft precision, like a shadow. You’re only partially dressed, still bent over your bag, searching for something when he gets close.  

“Don’t think you’ll need to worry about that anymore.” 

He’s not loud, but his gruff voice still disturbs the serenity. A jarring interruption to the leaves rustling in the breeze and the birdsongs echoing above. You take one long breath before you look him in the eye. Dropping your bag, you raise your hands in surrender. 

You have nothing. No weapons, no defense, no chance of getting far if he’s tracked you down already. “How did you find me?” You square your shoulders, standing your ground despite your disadvantaged position. 

“It’s my job,” he replies simply. 

He circles around you slowly, appraising you, eyes roaming over your exposed skin. Your tight shorts and thin undershirt don’t leave much for him to imagine, but you refuse to shrink or hide. You assess him yourself, and realization spreads across your face. You mutter his name aloud. Joel. 

He pauses just behind you and hooks a finger under the thin strap along your shoulder, teasing down the skin before snapping it like a rubber band. You stifle a wince. Just because he has you alone and barely dressed in the wilderness doesn’t mean you intend to give easily. You keep your chin raised in a proudly defiant stance. 

Joel chuckles dangerously at you, stepping closer. He rests his large palms atop your shoulders. It would be a sweet portrait of the two of you if it weren’t for the reality of the circumstance. Instead, his body is oppressive, so broad compared to you that it’s like you’re caged in, locked in a gravitational pull towards him, despite being in the open air. 

Your distaste for his presence has your body rigid and tense. You’re holding your breath as he leers at your body over your shoulder. His fingers dig into the flesh over the ridge of your clavicle like the claws of a predator ready to fly you away or tear you apart. 

“Are you going to come along willingly now?” he asks. The bass of his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite his furnace of a chest radiating into your back. The question hangs ominously between you. The or left unsaid. 

You swallow slowly, muttering an agreement and turning so you’re face to face. Your eyes dart across his features, and it’s strangely intimate. Something heavy in the closeness of your mouths, the shared breaths you take. His humanity is so apparent. You could reach out to trace every line of his face, but his stoic expression morphs into something sinister.

“That’s too bad,” he tuts, disappointed, “I was hoping you’d put up a fight.” 

You scowl, shifting your weight to lean away from him. He laughs harshly at your response. It’s a grating, barking sound, baring his teeth. 

You’re still thinking about what he was hoping for as he binds your wrists together, but he’s not revealing anything else. He grabs your upper arm and begins leading you toward the dense trees. You stumble, adjusting to his pace and trying to find your stride. 

“Where are you taking me?” you complain, trying to jerk your arm out of his grip, but he’s latched on tight. He’s unfazed by your attempt to break away from him as if it’s a natural part of his day-to-day to wrestle with an unwilling companion. 

It’s an exertion to keep up with him; he moves with purpose and little regard for you. Unaware of the small branches and shoots of new growth in the forest whip at your face, arms, and ankles. Uncaring that they obstruct your vision as you let him lead. 

You take his strength, size, and foul-tempered look apparent from his profile. You follow half a step behind, visibly less enthused about his single-minded pursuit. 

“Not far.” He’s blunt. Unhelpful. Answering you without a glance in your direction. 

“What do you want with me?”

“That’s not my decision,” he shrugs as if he isn’t talking about what happens to your life. Not wasting a word to ease your panic. 

“Who sent you?” Fear cracks through your voice. Ugly and raw. 

“Don’t know.” 

He’s so short with you. Brutish and rushed. Trudging along indifferent to your world crashing down. 

“You don’t know?” There’s an edge to your tone, frustration apparent. Joel shoots you a scathing look. He has a handsome face, but his dark eyes show no kindness. 

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” He turns away, looking forward as you make your way along. 

He moves confidently, like a force of nature. Twigs snap under his boots as he creates his path without regard for the destruction. 

“Then what’s in it for you? Why not just let me go?” You press sulkily. 

“I get paid for delivering you, not making decisions, sweet thing.” 

His response is gross and detached. Sweet thing. The pet name drips with sarcasm. You’re just an object. You scoff at him. 

“You’re despicable,” you cut under your breath as you weave through the underbrush. Disgust warps your features as you make your way along.

“Watch it,” Joel snaps. A low tolerance threshold. Fitting for a surly smuggler. 

“It’s true,” you snap right back. He doesn’t take it lightly, stopping and yanking you around roughly so you’re facing him again. 

“You’re heartless,” you jab, “scum. You don’t care about anything but your own profit.” 

Fed up, he backs you into the nearest tree. The bark digs into your shoulder blades. His hand grips your throat menacingly. His face is so close to yours. The deep line between his brows, the depth of his dark eyes, and his plush lower lips are all you can see. 

“Keep it up,” he goads. His fingers are merely a threat, resting along your arteries. Tempting you to talk back. “We both know you aren’t innocent,” he adds. 

You snarl at that, arguing that he doesn’t know the first thing about you, but he only grins darkly. 

Joel enjoys the way you detest him. He also enjoys the sight of you pinned under his hand. The way it only takes one to have you helplessly trapped. You’re still muttering insults at him, but he’s ignoring your words. He’s too interested in the arch in your spine tilting you towards him. The rising and falling as your breath is shallow and quick. 

Your thin top is still damp from your dip in the water, and from his point of view, it’s a scene that deserves to be photographed. You seem so delicate in contrast to him. His wide palm covering your throat, his vascular forearm so masculine against your supple skin. You look at him through your lashes, your eyes narrow and scornful, but his eyes trail down as your voice trails off. 

Joel has a perfect view of your hard nipples under the thin material of your shirt. The fabric clings to you like you’re in a wet t-shirt contest, and the longer he stares, the more he starts to lose his sense of urgency in taking you anywhere.

“What?” you interrupt his ogling, forcing your features into a disapproving glower to overcompensate for the breathlessness. 

He’s amused by your contempt and disobedience. He can tell there’s a struggle forming beneath the surface. The twitch between your brows where they threaten to saddle in pleasure if he applies the right pressure. The lust flickering behind your eyes. The disdain tugging at the corners of your frown only makes his blood run hotter. 

“You think you’re better than me,” His voice drops, sinfully low. You stare blankly, not arguing. “You think you’re special,” he continues cruelly. 

“You aren’t.” His fingers squeeze along just the sides of your neck; playing god with you, he restricts the blood pumping through your arteries. “No, sweet thing, you’re just another runaway whore with a bad attitude. That sure as hell doesn’t make you special.”

“I’m not a whore.” You spit his words back in his face. 

“No?” He mocks, tilting his head and dragging his eyes over your frame. His lecherous gaze highlights your compromising position. You’re on display for him, at his mercy, alone. It all comes into focus as your throat runs dry. “Could’ve fooled me.” He lifts the pressure off your neck, and the blood rushes to your head. 

Your gasp switches into a tight frown. His cocky smirk only widens. 

“Argue all you want, but your body doesn’t lie,” he coos arrogantly. 

“Can feel your pulse beating faster,” his fingers massage deliberately at your neck. You steel your breathing, eyes searching for something on his face to focus on. Something to ground you. But he leans in close, his breath hot along your ear. “So desperate,” he inhales deeply like he’s cataloging your scent, “just for me?” 

His other hand traces the angle of your jaw. 

“Maybe that’s just a human response to being pinned to a tree in the middle of nowhere by a smuggler,” you hiss. 

“Maybe.” He releases you, and you stagger forward at the sudden loss of support. Losing your balance and unable to steady yourself with your hands bound, you’re toppling forward to your knees as Joel half catches you—stopping you from landing with your face in the dirt. 

He shakes his head at you in disbelief. Every time you move, you pose just to tempt him. Here you are on your knees, glowing in the soft light as you tilt your face up at him. The fear that flitters over your face twists into something else. Something that makes you both pause. 

Joel moves first, resting a hand on your cheek. Reflexively, your lips part, and he can’t stop slipping his thumb into your mouth. You try to recalibrate, reversing the involuntary responses, but he’s already seen them. The way your breath hitched and the way your eyes darkened. 

He raises a brow slightly, entertained by how easy it is to read the signs. “It’s too late to hide it.” He pulls his thumb back, dragging it slowly over your bottom lip and down to your chin, leaving a trail of saliva that catches the light and glistens. “You think I can’t see how bad you want it?” 

You shake your head lightly in defiance, murmuring that he’s wrong and dropping your gaze. You’re sat at eye level with his belt and his one hand with the thumb hooked on a belt loop. You study every ridge of his hand, the scars along his knuckles, the sun-tanned brown skin. 

The bulge highlighted by his fitted jeans catches your attention, and you look back up to meet his eyes.  

Joel slips his hand past your face, fingers weaving into your hair, cupping the back of your head. He doesn’t add much pressure, and you don’t have to lean far to rest your cheek along the worn denim on his upper thigh. 

“Yeah,” he growls above you, “take it out.” 

You move hurriedly, dissolving your denial. It’s easy work to unbuckle his belt and pop open the button of his jeans, even with your wrists bound. You wet your lips unconsciously as you tug the band of his boxers down until his cock springs free. Only half-hard, it hangs imposing and proud. So close to your face, you can see the tiniest twitch as he responds to your warm breath fanning over his skin. 

“Get to it,” he orders. 

You blink up at him, resistance fading on the tip of your tongue. “Or get up so we can get a move on; doesn’t matter to me.” he challenges. You curl your fingers around the base of his shaft. It’s smooth and hot under your fingertips. Experimentally, you run your tongue along the underside. His fingers tighten their grip in your hair. 

You open wide, laying your tongue out flat, and he guides you. Joel’s eyes are glued to your mouth as he slides his cock past your lips. You stare back, studying every expression that crosses his face. His hard eyes don’t soften, but you could swear his blinking slows. The hint of a snarl deepens as he picks up the pace. 

Using you. Fucking your wet mouth until he’s pressing into the back of your throat, seeking more. 

Your eyes tear up, but he doesn’t stop, and you don’t resist. 

You quickly acclimate, working in rhythm, breathing, taking it all. When your eyelids flutter shut and a moan buzzes in your throat, Joel laughs darkly. “If you aren’t a whore,” he pauses to make a throaty noise that spears right to your core, “why do you take my cock down your throat just like one?” 

You choke at his assertion, and he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. 

“Not a very good one, I guess,” he says flatly, yet with a particularly pleased expression still faintly etched in the lines of his face. You wipe the spit coating your chin onto the back of your hands. 

He doesn’t reach for you again; instead, he takes his cock in his own hand. Impatient. Slick with your saliva, he strokes himself lewdly, grunting with pleasure as he flicks his wrist. 

“You’re deranged,” you mutter, voice hoarse. 

He doesn’t like that. He moves without a word, shoving you forward onto your elbows and knees. He holds you down against the soft grass with one hand as the other crudely pulls your shorts down. He runs his palm along the curve of your spine, over the contour of your ass. Both hands grip the back of your knees, readjusting you to his liking. 

Then he takes his time. 

Kneading your ass and thighs, landing one firm smack on that has you jolting forward, cheek pressing flat into the grass. The sharp sensation disorients you and leaves you sucking in air. 

Joel is undisturbed by your reactions. He takes both of his thumbs to spread you open wider, revealing the glossy sheen of your core. Your cunt drips, slick and swollen for him. 

“You think I’m so despicable,” his gravelly voice makes your mind fuzzy, “how come you’re so fuckin’ wet for me?” 

You can only manage to whine into the ground, pushing back towards him. “You don’t move,” he says harshly, one wide palm gripping your hip to hold you still. When the blunt head of his cock glides along your seam, you let out a broken moan. His fingers dig into your soft flesh in warning. 

He pauses, with his tip resting at the core of your throbbing pussy, to marvel at the visual before sinking into you. You gasp at the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely. You don’t have time to adjust before he’s pulling back and slamming into you again. He drags against every nerve inside of you, intensifying every motion. 

Joel isn’t gentle. He holds you firmly and uses your body, fucking into you with rough thrusts that make your thighs tremble. “Take it,” he grunts, pounding into you deeply until his hips meet your bare thighs. 

It’s all wet noises, heaving breathing, and skin slapping against skin. He watches the plush curves of your ass ripple as he drives into you harder and faster. The force of his movement pulls sharp, ragged cries from you as he fucks you so hard it pushes the air out of your lungs. 

“This is all you get.” Joel groans behind you, curling over you with his broad frame. Your bodies are sweaty where your naked skin slips against each other, and you writhe against him, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back as he fucks deeply into you. 

“You’re nothing to me,” he snarls, punctuated with his hips snapping into you brutally. “Just fuckin’ cargo.” 

“Shit,” he mutters, hips stuttering as you whimper. “You like that. Can feel you clenching around me,” he keeps talking. You’re mindless beneath him. A winded, drooling mess. “Ain’t even worth the hassle to deliver. Better use taking my cock,” he grunts, hips canting more erratically until he stills, pulsing inside of you with a throaty groan. 

You’re boneless, propped up on shaky knees as he pulls out and watches his come leak out of you for a moment. Then he’s crassly yanking your shorts up and ordering you to stand. You’re wobbly when you get back to your feet, and he huffs at you agitatedly. “Figure out how to walk, or I’ll drag your ass the rest of the way.” 

You can’t say how long it takes before you reach your destination. Everything was a blur as you clumsily trotted along, outpaced by Joel’s long stride. You’re breathing loudly through your mouth, a sheen of sweat between your shoulder blades and on your chest. Joel, apparently well-conditioned for the cardio, is frustratingly collected. He holds you tightly as he opens the door and pushes you inside. 

He jerks you towards a makeshift seat on a crate and raps a fist against the wall behind you. You can hear heavy footsteps. Joel ignores you as you try to read his expression. In seconds, the fully armored Mandalorian enters the room. 

He moves swiftly, barely glancing in your direction as Joel meets him on the far side of the room. 

“You were delayed,” the Mandalorian remarks in his modulated voice, his tone unrevealing. Joel steps in closer, muttering in a hushed tone that you can’t pick up. Something makes the Mandalorian laugh abrasively. His voice cracks through the air, fraught with a hazardous edge. 

You sit still, chest tight, as the helmet swivels towards you. Expressionless metal, he gives nothing away. Harsh lights beat down on your damp skin, making it hard to stay still. 

Joel is menacing, but this guy is impossible to read. The Mandalorian stalks towards you like a predator. 

Joel leaves the room, presumably off to shower, pulling his shirt over his head as he walks away. 

“Let’s see then,” the Mandalorian commands as he approaches. 

“See what?”

He pulls you to your feet, a gloved hand jerking your head side to side as he examines you. 

He steps forward, and you back away in synchronized steps until your heel hits something. The Mandalorian has you trapped between the cold wall and his cold metal armor. 

He removes the cuffs that bind your hands, tossing them aside, drawing a confused look from you. Instead, with one hand, he pins both your wrists above your head, causing your legs to spread instinctively. You squeeze your eyes shut as if you can control yourself without looking. 

“He said you’re not worth the fuel to return.” The Mandalorian gestures toward the direction Joel disappeared in with just a subtle tilt of his head. “That you’re a distraction and a whore.” 

“Then let me go.” 

“No.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say more. He watches you. He is still and statuesque, whereas you’re so human. In the thick air, your breathing sounds too loud. Your heart beats too violently. Your limbs tremble too weakly. You give away so much, just with your body, your face, your eyes. 

“What do you want with me?” 

“I ask the questions,” he negates coolly. 

He squeezes your jaw tightly, “Is it your mouth?” His fingers squish the insides of your cheeks against your teeth. 

“No…it can’t be this needy cunt, hmm?” 

You’re shuddering, soft, and pliant. Warm, flesh and blood. You can’t form a response for him, even when he releases your jaw. Your gape at him with wide eyes and wet lips. 

Then, unceremoniously, he’s shoving his hand into your leggings. Wedging his thick fingers between your slippery, swollen folds. He growls like an animal beneath the helmet.

“You’re soaked,” he says. “Getting fucked full of Joel’s cock wasn’t enough?” He pulls his hand out, letting the band of your leggings snap against your belly. You stare back. Your body trembles lightly, arms straining in his grip. 

“Answer me,” he orders quietly. 

It’s soft. Your throat is still hoarse. “No.” 

Then he’s groping at you with an intensity that makes you writhe against the cool steel wall. 

He pinches at your strained nipples, rolling them between his fingers and making you bite your own lip to distract from the twisted pain and pleasure he’s unleashing on you. You can’t keep back all the noises, though, and he pauses when you moan and arch into his hand. 

“You’re not a whore,” he decides and he wedges his thigh between your legs. You roll along the ridged plate of armor, needily grinding against him. 

Without warning, the Mandalorian tears your top off of your body like a starved animal. Primal and desperate, but with precision. A tremor runs through you at the exposure and ferocity, making you gasp. 

“No. You like this too much to be whore.” He drops your hands and they fly to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you across the room dropping you onto the bed. 

He pulls your leggings down, tossing them to the floor. You’re breathing so heavily, anticipating his next move. He pulls his cock out of his pants and you can’t take your eyes off of it. The only part of him exposed aside from his hand. The only glimpse of the true man beneath the metal. 

He taps his drooling head on your clit and you make a hungry sound, spreading your legs wide to make room for him. With a firm grip, he guides himself through your throbbing folds and into your hot, wet cunt. 

You groan as he meets the end of you. Your walls flutter around him as he splits you open, and then he starts to rock in and out and you keen. “Shut up,” he growls and covers your mouth with his palm. 

He saws into you relentlessly and you choke down your cries of pleasure. “Listen to how wet you are,” he mutters. “Such a filthy slut.” Your body jolts with every thrust, breasts bouncing and legs shaking as he keeps your mouth covered. 

“You think she can take us both?” 

You strain under the Mandalorian’s hand trying to turn your head and Joel moves in closer. 

“She’s just cargo,” Joel muses darkly, “she’ll take what we give.” 

…….

You pause the video on your laptop, freezing the scene just as it cuts back to your reaction to Joel. The fucked out smile in your eyes apparent, even with your mouth covered. 

You whip your head over to look at your boyfriend lounging next to you on the sofa. Your brow is furrowed critically, and he can see the wheels turning in your mind. His eyes, though, are clouded with lust. 

“Would’ve been better if we could’ve made a set that looked like the Razor Crest,” you grumble. You chew on your bottom lip as you consider the rest of your critique. 

“Do you think I should’ve kept in more of the dialogue between you and Joel? And the continuity with your gloves—do you really think it’s not that noticeable?” 

“Baby,” Frankie mutters in his thick, husky voice. “I don’t think anyone is worried about the plot or the fucking gloves.” 

You sigh deeply at that, returning to your video editing software with irritation. “You’re just saying that because you aren’t worried about those things,” you admonish him, continuing with your work. 

You play another clip of the scene that the two of you shot. Hearing your moaning and whimpering for him through the laptop speakers drives him fucking crazy. He’s pretty sure he could wear a banana suit and people would still happily pay to watch you get railed by him. 

“I’m not just saying that,” he argues, deciding to hold back on the banana comment. 

“Come here. It’s late, take a break.” He can practically hear your eyes roll as you ignore him and continue poring over details that only you would notice. He doesn’t have much patience left, already desperately turned on both from the video you made and from how sexy you look next to him. So focused. In your element. 

He lowers his voice into that rumbly, bassy register that he knows you can’t resist. “Are you going to make me repeat myself?” Your head swivels, and he gives you a dark glare with a gleam in his eye. He can see the feisty remark swirling on the tip of your tongue. “Come here,” he orders. 

You close the laptop, pushing it towards the middle of the coffee table. “Are you going to punish me?” you murmur, crawling onto his lap slowly. “I can get the helmet back out,” you joke with a playful smirk before you curl into him, pressing soft kisses along his warm neck. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, “I should punish you.” He grabs your hips, guiding you closer to where he wants you. You gasp at the same time as he groans when your core rubs against the long ridge of his erection. “You feel that?” he growls lowly. The friction and heat between you radiates up his spine and down to his toes. “You feel how hard you make me?” he asks. 

“Yes.” You grind against him. He feels huge through his soft sweats. You roll your hips, savoring the pressure of his hard cock teasing you. It sends sparks from your cunt to your nipples, lighting up your nerves. He slips one hand under the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing–his t-shirt– to palm your tits and pinch at your nipples as if he could read your mind or, rather, your body. 

“That’s how hard every jerkoff that watches us is gonna be.” 

His statement makes you giggle softly against his neck. “Yeah?” you ask breathily. 

“Yeah,” he confirms before capturing your lips with a hungry kiss that makes you moan into his mouth. You melt into each other on the sofa. Tongues sliding against each other, hips rocking against each other, and hearts beating against each other through your ribcages. 

He cradles you in his arms as he shifts. Releasing you once you’re flat beneath him on the sofa, “They’ll never know what it’s like to feel your sweet cunt come around their cock, though.” He says as he lifts your legs, sliding off your soaked panties before spreading you open. 

You can only hum in agreement, entranced by the sight of him pushing down his sweatpants. He’s lost in you. The desire in your eyes and the arousal shining on the folds of your core. You wrap your legs around him, hitching one knee up high to give him deeper access. 

“Please,” you groan. He teases you with the wide head of his cock, nudging at your clit as he coats himself in the fresh wave of slick flooding around him. 

“Please, what?” 

“Please, fuck me. Now.” 

A warm puff of air comes out of his nose. Amused with your impatience. But when he starts to feed himself into you slowly, it’s no longer funny. He’s possessed by the same urgency. Gripped by the plush heat of your cunt as you stretch around him. When he’s fully seated, hips flush to your pelvis, his cock throbs inside of you, and you dig your fingernails into the musculature of his shoulders. Silently demanding more, so he moves. 

He fucks into you with a fervor made of possession and pride. Filling you so deeply that it’s like he’s connected to your soul, slotted perfectly into the heart of your cunt. Every ridge of him designed to caress every nerve inside of you. But beyond fitting together physically, he knows exactly what you want. 

He snaps his hips harder. Faster. With a force that makes your eyelids heavy and your head bob limply as he drives into you with such strength that it makes you mindless with pleasure. He gives and gives. And you take and take. You cry out his name when he finds the perfect angle to launch you into a euphoric orgasm. It’s not long before he’s coming, too, stuffing you full and deep as your walls constrict and contract around him. 

Time feels fuzzy as you lay together. Sticky but satisfied. His arm and leg thrown over you weigh heavily as he relaxes. He could drift off like this, and he’s about to say so when he catches that look on your face. You just figured something out. 

“What are you plotting?” he asks in a sleepy voice. 

“I’ve got an idea for our next video.” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you still have those zip ties?” 

pls let me know if enjoyed or hated any of it <3

Dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

ty: to @gothcsz for reminding me that pwp is pwp when i spent days getting hung up on some unnecessary details, and to @magneticecstasy for an idea that didn’t make it in, but will not leave my brain now 

gen tags for some babes: 

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 11

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and smoking. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Will does something he never thought he would again, and after someone from his recent past seeks him out, things fall into place and call for celebration.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter and I'm feeling so bittersweet about it!! I can't believe how this world has unfolded and all the enthusiasm it's received, so a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with it and shared in my love for it! 💗 @whatever-lmaoo I hope you enjoy your scene! 🌌

Series Masterlist

The modest diamond was brighter than anything considering its size compared to some of the others, shining with impossible brilliance on its thin, yellow gold band as Will held the dainty ring between his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he nodded, looking up at the jeweler who had been showing him engagement rings for the past hour.

It was the first one Will noticed when he started eyeing the vast and overwhelming array of rings, able to picture it clearly on your hand, but was persuaded by the salesman to continue exploring other options and not settle for the one that caught his attention first despite knowing in his heart that it was perfect. The rest of them were too large or flashy, some of the settings too elaborate and downright outrageous in cost, and Will knew something humble and simple would be the perfect token to help symbolize your love even though both of you felt no need to conform to any of the traditional ways that people were convinced validated a relationship.

“It’s a lovely choice, Sir,” he confirmed. “She’ll love it.”

Will blew out a breath to try to calm himself, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement, hardly able to believe he was doing something he never thought he would do again in his life.

He had just finished paying for half of it and set up the payments for the rest when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and answered it while waiting for the jeweler to return with the ring secured in its little box.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Where are you, man? You’re late. You’re never late,” Benny quizzed from the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Something took a little longer than I thought, I’ll be right over.”

“What the hell are you doing that’s more important than helping me train?”

Will laughed. “You’ll see, just get started without me, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up and thanked the jeweler for his help when he returned with the ring that Will couldn’t wait to put on your finger, making his way out of the store and over to the gym with a smile that couldn’t be wiped from his face.

“That was longer than ten minutes!” Benny called from the cage, his gloved hands raising up as he spoke.

“Dude, I’m sorry!” Will laughed, unable to shake this good mood despite his brother being annoyed by his tardiness.

“Why are you so happy? What were you doing? Actually, do I want to know that?”

Will chuckled again as he stepped into the cage, fishing the tiny box out of the pocket of his jeans.

“No, I will not marry you,” Benny joked as Will opened the box and presented it to him, both brothers erupting with laughter before embracing each other in a hug.

“That’s awesome, man, I’m really happy for you,” the younger Miller spoke, patting Will on the back while still in his grasp with his padded fists.

“Thanks, bro,” Will smiled sheepishly, looking at the ring one more time before closing the box and stowing it back safely in his pocket.

“Do you know when you’re gonna do it?”

Will sighed and shook his head, his eyebrows raised. “Whenever it feels right, I guess. I don’t really have a plan,” he admitted.

“You always have a plan.”

“I did until her,” he smiled, thinking of how much his life and the ways he went about things had changed since he met you. You had disrupted his life in the best way, taking the strict order of how he lived and the walls he built up for protection and dismantled it all, your love bringing him a freedom that wasn’t chaotic or terrifying. The way you turned his world upside down had actually put it the right way up, making him realize that all the things he thought he was doing right were actually wrong, your presence in his life healing wounds he never thought could be mended.

“Well however you do it, she’s gonna say yes and it’ll be perfect for you both,” Benny assured him. “It definitely won’t be like the first time!”

“Fuck no,” Will agreed, wishing he could erase his previous engagement to his ex, having been given ultimatums if he didn’t propose, the cost of the hideous ring she wanted so badly putting him in more debt than he could handle.

“Okay, can I punch you now?” Benny asked, bringing Will out of his past with a laugh, ducking as he threw a loose hit at his face.

The sun was beaming down hard on the back of Will’s neck as he walked through the front yard back and forth in neat rows, the loud buzz of the lawnmower drowned out by the music playing in his headphones.

With the weather being so nice and it being a Sunday, tons of people were out on the street; families walking with their young kids and dogs to the park, and a few older couples passing by the house hand in hand who gave Will a nod and smile as they strolled.

He was attentive to everything, already knowing what cars each neighbour drove and fairly in-tune with the consistency in their schedules, so when an unfamiliar car pulled up and parked in front of the house, it made Will pause and watch to see who it was.

An average looking woman stepped out, glancing at the house number before continuing to walk up the sidewalk to the driveway, and Will plucked his headphones out of his ears and shut off the lawnmower as he stared at her curiously.

She looked almost nervous, and in her hands she held a round dish, but when she gave him a sweet smile, Will couldn’t help but return it.

“Can I help you?” he asked, squinting in the sunlight.

“I sure hope so!” she exclaimed, her voice suiting her demeanour.

She stopped when she was a few steps away from Will, her arms moving as she spoke that told Will her hands would be flying about if she didn’t have something in them.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but your brother told me I would find you here.”

Will tilted his head slightly as he listened, leaning more onto the handle of the mower that he still held onto with one hand.

“At least I’m hoping you’re his brother!” she giggled, but Will remained quiet so she could continue explaining who she was and what she wanted. “You’re Will Miller?”

He nodded. “That’s me.”

“You’re a hard man to track down!” she blurted, her relief clear in her words.

Will smiled but still looked at her with confusion, prompting her to scold herself.

“Oh, listen to me! You poor man standing here as I’m going on and on and I haven’t even told you who I am!” She cradled the dish in one arm and extended her right hand out to him. “My name is Patsy, and my husband is whose life you saved last week.”

Will was taken aback as he took her hand and shook it, being surprised at her introduction an understatement.

“Wow, hi. It’s nice to meet you, Patsy,” he greeted.

“I really hope I’m not overstepping, but I just wanted to thank you. I went to the store and spoke with the manager who told me who you were…”

When she trailed off, Will knew why, nodding as he understood that the manager had explained to her both incidents that made Will's name a memorable one at Publix.

“So I looked you up but the last address listed was old and other people live there now…”

Will nodded again, knowing it was the house he had lived in with his ex, a sigh blowing past his lips.

“But then I saw there was another Miller listed and I got a hold of him, and oh your brother is just such a dear and he gave me this address. He told me you wouldn’t mind me stopping by and–”

“I don’t mind at all, Patsy, this is nice,” Will assured her, seeing her eyes light up. “How’s your husband doing?”

“Ron,” she started, and Will was happy to finally learn his name. “He’s recovering well and back home already.”

“That’s great!”

“It was our anniversary that day. Thirty-nine years now!” she explained, her eyes appearing wet. “He went to pick up a few things to make us a special dinner for it…to think he almost didn’t come back home…” Patsy said quietly, blinking quickly. “But thanks to you, we’ll hopefully be on our way to forty and more!”

“Wow, congratulations!” Will offered, genuinely, watching her wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Thank you, dear. We are both so grateful to you and we just don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

Will shook his head. “It’s what anyone would’ve done. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“Well, I’ve made you this pie. I don’t even know if you like pie…” she muttered under her breath, meeting his eyes again as she extended her arms to hold the dessert out for him. “It’s apple. Just give it a warm in the oven and it’s all set for you to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Will beamed. “I’ve never been able to say no to pie and apple is my favourite.” He patted his stomach to assure her he loved to eat and she laughed, her kindness and warmth contagious.

“Is there someone you can share it with?” she asked, her question non-accusing or prying.

“Yeah, there is,” he confirmed, happily, any thought that went to you bringing out a bigger smile on his face.

“Oh, good. A sweet soul like yours deserves to be shared. Plus, you’re too damn handsome not to have someone!” She giggled at her own admission and clapped her hand on his forearm, patting it a couple of times before stepping away in the direction of her car.

“Thank you again, Will. You’re a good man.”

Will smirked and glanced at his shoes before meeting her eyes again, giving her one last smile and wave goodbye before turning to bring the pie inside the house.

Will still didn’t have a plan as to when he was going to pop the question, but it was even more on his mind now after his conversation with Patsy, realizing more than ever how precious life and love were, and he wanted to marry you on the spot if it was possible.

The rest of your Sunday had been blissful; cooking dinner together that was followed by two huge slices of the best apple pie both of you had ever tasted, and now your night was wrapping up in the best way you knew how with your naked bodies entangled after falling into bed straight from the shower.

Will hummed as he trailed his face up the side of your waist, his nose dragging along your soft skin that was still dotted with drops of water, the scent of your soap and the dampness clinging to you intoxicating him.

You moved to lay on your back, sighing out a pleasured noise as he continued to explore your bare torso with his lips, ghosting them over your stomach and hips, your hands smoothing over his upper back and through his wet hair.

He hummed again against your skin, the vibrations off his lips rumbling through so that it almost tickled, making you squirm beneath him.

With a slight chuckle, he grabbed your waist and pulled you with him as he rolled onto his back, guiding you to mount him where you looked down at him with a sweet smile, your hands splaying out on his chest.

“I wanna see you, sweetheart,” he purred, his eyes full of love and desire in the faint light from the lamp on your nightstand.

Your smile grew, the warmth from his adoration spreading through you like it was transferring from your fingertips that were connected to his chest and into every vein until it had you buzzing, his love for you always making you beam.

Water from your hair dripped down your shoulders and chest, the trails of it enhancing the curves of your breasts and valleys along your collarbones, catching Will’s eye as he watched you in awe.

You smoothed your hands from his pecs over to his arms, lacing your fingers with his as you leaned down to kiss him, your hands held securely together to support your forward motion, the water that fell from your saturated hair dropping onto his body where it peppered his clean, porcelain skin.

You breathed him in, your tongues beginning to tangle together as you settled on his groin, teasing yourself on his rigid cock that rested against your core.

A sharp inhale filled your lungs when his tip breached your entrance, filling just an inch of you with his leaking head yet still stretching your tight hole.

You rolled your hips forward, bringing him back out of you, only to have him angle his own when you seated yourself back on him again, pressing inside you a little deeper this time.

When you lifted off of him again, Will abandoned his connection with your hands and landed them on your upper thighs just below your hips, forcing you down on his length as he fully penetrated you with a growl that resounded in your mouth.

Your hands fell onto his head, raking through his hair as you deepened your kiss, grinding on his cock that slid in and out of you with your languid rhythm.

Will removed one of his hands off your waist and placed it on your cheek, gripping the side of your face with a demand that made your head spin as his need poured through his mouth, his kiss filling you with an equal want for more.

You broke away from his lips, your desire to ride him overpowering that to keep kissing him, moving your body against his faster, his flaxen hairs creating a mind-numbing friction on your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his body tensing under yours as he took pleasure from your own. “Use me however you need.”

The roughness of his voice almost made you shiver, his offer to take whatever you needed from him to feel as good as possible making a cool heat shoot down your spine, and you sat up straighter, driving down hard against him while providing him a view of your body, his hands cupping your tits and plucking at your peaked nipples.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he praised, his words making you tip your head back and increase your pace, hearing him grunt and moan with how good you were making him feel turning you on even more.

“Mmm, Will, I’m close,” you warned, your breathing ragged and your caution a whine.

“Come on, I want to feel you come on me.”

Your eyes were closed tightly as you focused on chasing down your high, and Will found it impossible for you to look more stunning now than you always did, your parted lips spilling moans while your body rocked and bounced on his.

“I want you– fuck! – I want you to cum in me, Will!”

“Yeah? I’m right there too, baby,” he growled, bucking up into you to prove it as he gave up on trying to hold back.

“God, I love you,” he called, completely enamoured by you.

“I love you too, Will,” you answered, your nails digging into his chest, feeling yourself start to come apart on his thick cock.

Will felt overcome by every emotion, and the thought of putting a ring on your finger sent him through the roof, pulsing hot ropes into you the moment he felt you start to clench around him.

He kept his eyes open to see you experience your orgasm despite wanting to close his own from how amazing it all felt, desperate to watch you fall into bliss and never able to get over the fact that he was the one buried inside you while you did.

Your fingertips gripped in the flesh on his heaving chest as you settled from your high, your eyes opening to meet with his, but you continued to rock your hips against his groin as you selfishly indulged in his warm, thick cum lubricating your tingling walls, and suddenly you were thrown into another climax.

Will held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to stay on his cock and take what you needed from him despite him having finished already, watching you with complete captivation as you quaked and jolted uncontrollably on top of him.

“Good girl,” he grunted, panting out his breath as he tried to hang on for you.

Your broken wails filled the air, combining with the addicting sound of the mix of wet between your legs, and fully exhausted from pleasure, you collapsed forward onto him in a heap, your breath hot on the sweaty skin on his neck.

Will stroked your hair and back, soothing you as you came back to reality while he remained on cloud nine, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

You whined against his neck as he slipped out of you, and he continued to caress you and keep you close to him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, you’re alright, sweetheart. You did so well.”

His hand cradled the side of your face when you uprighted yourself, stroking his thumb on your dewy cheek, his smile soft as he took in your almost delirious look.

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up?” he offered, reluctantly letting you go as you nodded in agreement and removed yourself from straddling his lap.

Will laid there for a minute, watching you retreat into the ensuite bathroom before quietly moving off the bed to reach for his jeans, checking over his shoulder to be sure you hadn’t come back in yet as he grabbed the small box from his pocket and plucked out the dainty ring.

He closed it in his hand as he settled back into the sheets, his breath shaky as he stared up at the ceiling and tried his best not to smile too big.

You came back in and climbed into the bed with a bright smile that made his heart scream in his chest and met it with the broadest one of his own, relieved he didn’t have to try to disguise it now.

“Hmm, that was incredible, baby,” you praised, your words coming off your tongue like you were still reliving every moment of it, hovering over him before leaning down to kiss his lips.

He moaned into your mouth, his hand that wasn’t secured around the secret token he held rubbing up along your back, pulling you closer to him as he deepened your kiss and felt you melt into him.

You let your body lay completely on his, your tongues tangling together as if you were making up for the lack of kisses when you had rode him, and the small yelp you gave when he flipped you over onto your back and covered you with his weight was absorbed into his mouth that stayed locked on yours.

A deep breath filled his lungs and transferred into yours, inhaling your scent and everything about you as he nudged your left arm that was wrapped around his neck with his, gently forcing it onto the mattress where he trailed the back of his closed fist up the inside of your arm until he reached your palm.

Your fingers were extended and relaxed, toying with the sheets as your focus remained on your kiss, and carefully, Will adjusted his fingers until he had a grip on the band and slowly slipped it onto your ring finger.

He could feel your features move against his face as you tried to work out what was happening, and finally letting your lips part from each other, Will looked down at you to watch your reaction as you moved your hand that was still held in his into your view.

A shuddered breath escaped your parted lips and your eyes glistened with tears, and Will’s heart felt like it was either going to stop or jump right out of his chest when you looked from the sparkling ring on your trembling hand over to him, and somehow, he found his words.

“I want you to be my wife,” he spoke carefully and purposefully, his eyes locked on yours.

Your expression turned serious, and Will could see your pulse hammering violently in the side of your neck and swore he could hear your heart thumping like mad.

“You do?” you breathed, your fingers dancing with his, accentuating the feeling of the foreign piece encircling your skin.

“I do.”

Those two words made the corner of his mouth turn up in an astonished smile as the realization of actually saying it to each other one day soon hit him; what had seemed unimaginable that you could be his forever suddenly plausible and more real than anything.

In his next breath, he steadied his emotions, readying himself to legitimize the moment by officially asking the question he had rehearsed in his head over and over, his fingers closing between yours where he held your hand tightly.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded quickly, tears springing from your eyes furiously as a sob that mixed with a laugh blew past your lips.

“Yes, Will!”

He squeezed your hand three times and crashed against your lips as you returned the silent gesture, feeling the most incredible sense of relief and peace flowing through him, the love he had for you incomparable to anything else that existed and something he would spend the rest of his life proving to you.

Within two days you and Will had decided exactly what you wanted for your wedding day, and without wasting any more time in knowing that you wanted to be made husband and wife as soon as you could, you were hosting an engagement party in your backyard to celebrate with friends and family before the set day that was now less than a week away.

“I still can’t believe I’m not invited,” Benny scoffed, his blatant disapproval for your decision to elope making Will laugh and shake his head.

“Sorry, man. It’s not like you’re the only one who won’t be there. We just want something quiet,” Will explained for the third time to his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said with attitude before taking a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re doing this,” Will offered, motioning to the party happening around them.

“Yeah, I’m sincerely shocked you didn’t just up and leave without a word to anyone,” he said pointedly. “Selfish prick,” he added under his breath, earning him a hard shove on the shoulder.

“Fuck off, man,” Will laughed. “Maybe you’ll understand it one day.” He motioned over to where Jess was standing talking to you and the other girls, hoping that Benny had found his forever just like he had.

“No way. We will have everyone we love there. Hundreds of people. Maybe even our kids!”

Will raised his brows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“Damn right,” Benny confirmed, staring at Jess with a look in his eyes that explained everything anyone would ever need to know about their blooming relationship. “I want her to have my babies right away.”

“Well I’m looking forward to being an uncle very much,” Will grinned, draping his arm over Benny’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Well, boys, it wouldn’t be a proper celebration without some cigars, now would it?” Santiago announced after walking over to them, lifting the lid open on a box that contained what Will knew had to be some pricey cigars.

“Frank! Tom, get over here!” he called, handing each of his Delta Force brothers one.

“We gotta get a picture of this!” Tom exclaimed in a loud muffle as he already had his stuck between his teeth, wrapping his arms around both Millers that he wedged himself between.

Molly was right there and ready with her phone to snap a photo, the five of them standing with their arms around each other with their lit cigars hanging from their mouths, the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Say cheese!”

The night had been even more wonderful than you had imagined it would be; the love and joy in the air infectious and making you wonder even more if this was all real, still finding yourself caught off-guard whenever you moved your fingers on your left hand and felt something you weren’t yet accustomed to and catching yourself mesmerized with how the ring looked on your hand.

Half of the people you invited had no idea of your engagement, simply inviting them over for a casual get-together, so being able to hold up your hand to show off your gorgeous ring and see their shocked reaction was half the fun, and witnessing how happy and excited everyone was for you and Will made your heart feel like it would burst.

It made you question if your choice to elope was the right thing to do, but as the night came to a close and it was just you and Will left on your own, you knew it was everything you wanted.

You had just finished the last of the cleanup, thankfully with the help of Frankie and a couple of others who refused to leave you and Will to do it all on your own, and were standing in the middle of the yard looking up at the indigo sky littered with stars after you had turned all but one of the outside lights off.

Will’s soft, but sure footsteps in the grass could be heard coming up behind you, and you smiled when his arm slipped around you, holding you close to him with his hand splayed out on your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder where he looked up to the same point in the sky that you were.

“Hmm, what a night,” you sighed, happily, turning in his arms to face him.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking down at you lovingly with his hands resting on your hips.

You nodded as your grin stretched across your lips. “So much fun. It was perfect.”

You craned your neck and pecked a kiss on his lips and it took everything in you to pull away, choosing to satisfy your need to keep touching them by tracing your fingertip along the crease beside his mouth and then across the bow of his upper lip.

“What about you? What did you think?”

Will pursed his lips as he thought. “Well, I always have a good time when I’m with you,” he beamed, smirking crookedly at you. “But it solidifies that as much as I love being around our friends and family, I really want this to just be between us.”

“Good, because I feel the same,” you confirmed, feeling him relax after hearing your mutual views shared again despite knowing it was what you both wanted.

He was quiet, and in the moonlight you could see something hinting in his icy eyes.

“What else are you thinking, Miller?”

“How beautiful you look tonight. That dress…”

He growled as he bit his lip, angling his hips into you with implication, his hands tightening their grip on you to make you squirm and giggle.

You had found the little, white dress online and ordered it the moment you laid eyes on it, knowing Will would lose his mind over it, the bit of sweet with the large bow at the small of your back mixed with how sexy it was with the low neckline and short hem a lethal combination.

“Yeah? And what would you like to do to me in this dress?”

Your head tilted innocently to the side as you peered up at him through your lashes, your hands splaying over his broad chest that radiated so much warmth in contrast to the night air that had cooled significantly in the absence of the sun.

Will let out a low growl as his hands began to gather the skirt of your dress, lifting it up to access the white, lacy thong you had on beneath it, ripping them down your hips roughly.

“Let me show you, sweetheart.”

A deranged giggle fueled by lust and anticipation came out of your mouth as you leaned back against Will’s arm that was wrapped around your middle, letting your body hang loosely for him to do whatever he wanted with, and he smirked at your submission as he let his other hand slide between your legs to fondle your bare sex.

His fingers parted your lips, finding you already wet for him and spread your slick up to your clit and then back to your waiting hole, the action eliciting a long moan from you.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, gripping his shoulder tight to support you more. “Here?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hand even with questioning getting fucked in the semi-privacy of your own backyard.

He nodded, looking at you smugly. “Yeah,” he answered, nonchalantly and extremely cocky. “I’ve fucked you in far riskier places.”

You hummed a laugh as you let your eyes close, relishing in his touch rather than worrying if any neighbours would be up and out at this time of night anyway, and realizing they’d probably heard and seen you at least once or twice was a severe understatement.

His index finger slid inside you and then he added his middle one, filling you and stretching you with each stroke in and out, his breathing growing ragged that told of his faltering ability to resist fucking you right away whether you wanted him to wait or not.

You let your hand that was resting on his forearm sink down to the bulge in his shorts, taking hold of his hard cock through the material where you began to gently stroke it in languid motions.

His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot on your lips as he started to finger you faster and harder, your touch driving him wild.

“Do you remember the first time I fucked you?” he asked, his voice gruff from the cigar you watched him smoke earlier, pulling out a smile on your lips.

“Mmm, how could I ever forget?”

“I couldn't stop myself, and I still can't. You make me lose all control…take over every part of me that fights for some fraction of restraint…” He kissed your lips, claiming and wanting, his fingers hooking inside you to stroke your g-spot and make you jolt into him, your grip tightening on his cock.

Moving along your jawline, he ground his body against yours, getting as close to each other as possible as you both worked each other with your hands, his mouth smearing over to your neck.

“And fuck do I ever love you for it,” he growled, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that only increased when his teeth nipped at your pulse that hammered in your neck.

“You were just a slut taking my cock in the change room, and now you're gonna be my wife…” he uttered, his voice trembling with lust and excitement, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin.

You released your hold on his straining dick and pulled at his shirt, forcing him to abandon your cunt as you lifted it quickly over his head, a steely gaze shared between you before crashing against each other’s lips again.

The skin on his chest was impossibly warm to your palms as you smoothed them over his thick pecs, moaning into him as he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers that were wet from you, the band of your ring twisting as you slid your hand up to hold the side of his neck.

He peeled his mouth away from yours again, hovering against your lips as he spoke with a hoarseness in his tone. “You want it rough, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding your head as your other hand returned to his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours again as he undid the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled them down his legs. “My wife…”

You gasped at both the sound of him calling you his wife and from him turning you around so quickly you didn’t even have a chance to react, his hands clawing at your hips to pull them back against his groin where you were given no other choice but to take his cock.

He dragged it between your folds only once before slamming it in, one of his hands fisting your hair to angle your head back, the arch of your body accentuating where the pretty bow on your dress sat at the dip of your lower back.

Something between a laugh and a surprised noise came from you, already satisfied by him keeping his word to fuck you roughly, your hands carding down your own bare thighs sensually until they landed on your knees to support the back blows you were about to receive.

Will didn’t fuck around, already hammering against your ass quickly with sharp enough thrusts they almost stung your cheeks, the sensation of his full balls swinging forward to knock your clit sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck that pussy is so good, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his breaths coming out heavy and laboured as he worked hard at ruining you.

His grip tightened slightly on your hair as he let go of your hips with the other, bringing it around to hold the front of your neck, his palm resting on your windpipe while his fingers squeezed the sides of your column gently.

You whined as a shiver shot down your spine, feeling dizzy and overcome by so much pleasure, and unable to resist adding even more to the combination, you reached one of your hands between your legs and started rubbing your swollen clit harshly.

“Good girl, you’re gonna come hard on my cock aren’t you?” he asked with a trace of amusement in his voice, and you knew what kind of feral look would be in his eyes if you could see them.

Your body responded to his question, jolting as ecstasy took over control of your nervous system, everything acting on its own accord in an uncontrolled way thanks to the intense actions of the man behind you.

You squeezed his cock in gripping pulses, tightening around him like a vice until you heard his grunts grow louder, the sound music to your ears.

“God damn!” he howled, increasing his pace to something almost barbaric, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the thrill of it.

Will let his hand that was around your neck slip down your chest, roughly pawing at the low neckline of your dress until your tits spilled out, his fingers squeezing the fleshy curve of one of them as they shook to his movements.

Your moans and cries were growing louder as each second passed, and suddenly aware that any of your neighbours could hear you clear as day, you did your best to stifle them, but Will was quick to correct you.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream.”

“Fuck!” you bellowed, instantly complying as he pounded into you even harder, and after a couple more sharp blows, you had no way of holding back anymore.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body tensing and stilling in meeting his movements leaving him to fuck you through your paralyzing high, your euphoric screams filling the quiet, night air.

Incoherent strings of praise spilled from your open mouth as you came back down to earth, hearing his satisfied chuckle sound in your ears that he’d made you cause such a scene.

“God, Will, fill me up. Please!” you begged, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna get that load, baby…” he hissed. “...fill up that fucking cunt.”

You gasped as he somehow managed to increase his pace again, relentless in his pursuit of fucking you until you were dripping with his cum, his wild grunts telling you he had lost any ways of holding back.

He started to release inside you, but still slammed his cock in and almost all the way out of you as he came, his hot, thick load getting everywhere from deep in your cervix to all over your tingling lips that were stretched out on his girth.

Will stumbled slightly as he finally finished, his stamina faltering and his legs slightly shaking from his efforts, a deranged laugh decorating his words.

“I fucking love you, sweetheart,” he claimed, joyfully.

He grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks without care as he turned your face toward him, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, the sweat that clung to his beard transferring onto your lips.

Will righted himself after stealing your breath, pulling out of you unceremoniously where you moaned from the loss of his fullness inside you, feeling his cum leaking out and starting to trail down your inner thigh.

You stood and smoothed your hair back, turning to face your future husband who looked more gorgeous than ever, his body slick with a generous layer of sweat that glowed in the silvery moonlight.

He smiled crookedly at you, a lazy, sated look on his perfect features as his chest heaved while he still struggled for breath, his eyes gleaming even more of a vibrant blue, looking like some sort of god in front of you that had you dumbstruck.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am that I get to be fucked by you for the rest of my life,” you uttered, your honest thoughts falling off your tongue in your blissful haze.

Will chuckled and held your waist, nodding in agreement.

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

Your smile was covered by his mouth, his kiss claiming and radiating a happiness through you that had become so frequent recently, breathing him in deeply as you swept your hands up his slippery chest and reminded yourself once again that you had all of this to look forward to every day.

---

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