#it's very much something in between this haze like state

[reluctaunt]

you know that scene in anastasia where rasputin uses a dreamlike state to try and lure anya to her death. thats vaguely how I interpret the vanny situation. it's not entirely glitchtrap taking over but vanessa herself is certainly not wholly present

[frankenkyle19]

Unsupervised Tablet Time

Description: Kyle is on his tablet late at night. He somehow managed to get onto a porn sight, and found himself with a hard on. But you’d help him right? The only problem was? You were asleep

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, a bit of a crazed Kyle at one point, he makes the reader touch him while she’s sleeping (or so he thinks, she’s not actually asleep), Kyle crying, tooth rotting fluff. (I didn’t mean to make this as fluffy as I did, but it’s Kyle and I couldn’t resist)

word count: 3k (woooo, I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Realistically it wasn’t his fault that he stumbled across porn while watching videos on his tablet. All it took was one click, one link and bam. 

He was sucked in. Completely enthralled. Eyes wide as he watched the two people move on screen, their noises muffled in his headphones as he watched, completely entranced. The way their bodies move against each other as the man rutted against the woman, thrusting into her at a harsh, unrelenting pace. Kyle had been so mesmerized by the video that he barely noticed the way his cock twitched in his pants, begging for some kind of relief.

He did finally realize though when he shifted from his criss cross applesauce position to relax more against the bed and his thigh brushed against his erection. He paused, blinking in confused curiosity as he carefully poked at his groin with his pointer finger. The sounds that were playing right into Kyle’s ears weren’t at all helping the situation. From the sound of slapping skin to the moans the girl was letting off. It sparked something inside him. 

He pawed at his clothed cock with a clumsy hand, a quiet, surprised groan coming from his lips. That felt good. But not enough. He needed more. More more more. 

Still though, it was late at night and he knew everyone was asleep, and even though he didn’t quite understand, he figured this isn't something you did around everyone. Even in his hazed state, he knew that he didn’t want to get caught. Maybe he should just go back to watching videos. 

He turned his attention back to the tablet, frowning as he saw the video had ended, but soon enough a bunch more popped up in recommendation and he clicked on one of them, excitedly watching, eyes flicking across the screen as the video loaded.

It started out with a woman lying across a bed, stark naked. She began touching herself and Kyle mewled, reaching out and touching the screen in a desperate attempt to touch the woman. He groaned in frustration at his failed attempt, eyebrows furrowed at the growing pressure in his pants that was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

His eyes were laser focused on the girl's cunt, his tongue lolling from his mouth again. He longed to bury his face between her thighs. It was like an instinct. Or a memory…He wasn’t sure.

Soon enough there was a bit more action on the screen, a man crawling on top of her as they began to passionately make out. Kyle copied the movements of their lips, looking as if he was kissing air, which looked quite odd if anywhere were to walk in the room. He was so curious about anything and everything. Maybe a little too much at times.

It got heated fast, and Kyle’s brain struggled to keep up. The camera panned to a different angle, a closer one. The man stroked his cock a few times before lining it up with the woman’s entrance, carefully pushing it into her. It was as if Kyle was the one shoving his cock into someone’s warm heat by the way he reacted. He let out a groan, hand flying to his pants as he squeezed his dick, possibly too hard. He didn’t like his hands. Didn’t like his touch. He was too clumsy. He needed something else and he was growing frustrated.

His tablet and headphones were soon abandoned on his bed as he stood up, very determined now to get some relief. He found a lot of comfort in you, so surely you would make him feel better, right? He had no clue that he could just take care of his ‘little’ issue himself. You did everything for him, so obviously you could do this too.

So he made his way to your room, creeping as carefully as his clumsily coordinated body could. He closed the door behind him, having some sense to be quiet and not to wake the others. When he found you asleep he frowned. He didn’t want to wake you, but at the same time he needed your help so bad. 

He took a seat on the edge of your bed, mouth drawn down into a pout as he thought long and hard about what he should do. He finally couldn’t stand it any longer and crawled up the bed beside you, being as quiet as possible, eyes widening every time the bed creaked. He reached under the covers for your hand and gently pulled it out, holding it in his own for a second. You were so warm. So much warmer than Kyle’s undead body, and your touch held so much comfort.

He carefully brought your hand down to the bulge in his pants, letting it rest there as he bucked up against it. A breathy whine slipped from his chapped lips as he blinked a few times, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he ground his hips up against your hand. 

Once he saw that you weren’t stirring, he got a bit bolder, trying to find a way to maneuver your hand into his pants, and much to his dismay, was unable to do so. He continued to grind against your hand, cock heavy and throbbing under the confines of his sweats and boxers. He scooted away from you a bit to try and slip his pants off clumsily, clunky hands grabbing at the waistband with a heavy grunt.

Little did Kyle know you’d woken quite a bit ago. Really the moment he sat on your bed, you just pretended to be asleep to see what he would do. To say you were surprised would be an understatement. Your sweet, innocent Kyle grinding desperately against your hand in the middle of the night? While he thought you were asleep?

Your face was covered in a bright pink blush, but luckily the darkness of the room hid it from view. Not that he’d really suspect anything if he saw it anyways. The poor boy was a bit clueless. 

You felt him shifting beside you, trying to shimmy out of his pants and you wanted to turn and face him, to press a kiss to his cold, but sweet undead lips. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him. He’d never acted like this before.

You nearly shouted in surprise as his broad arms wrapped around your frame, snuggling up beside your back, his now naked lower half resting against the curve of your ass. He grumbled something that you couldn’t understand before he began to carefully grind against you.

Your breathing picked up and you knew you only had two choices.

Stay here and let him get off like this 

Help him 

And how could you not help him? Still, you decided to wait a few more moments, because his desperate actions amused you just a bit. 

It was when he buried his face against the crook of your neck and began to nip at the skin, your breath hitched. 

“Mmmm-“ he groaned against your ear, unaware that the proximity and his volume could wake you, because he also wasn’t aware that you already were awake. Just sitting and biding your time.

He rutted a few more times against your ass before biting down particularly hard against your shoulder, surely leaving marks.

You couldn’t help but wince, shooting up into a sitting position which startled Kyle. His eyes were wide as he looked at you, slowly blinking as he tried his best to gauge your reaction. He seemed to tense, waiting for some sort of reprimanding, or even a slap. But neither came, and he relaxed a bit, his worried expression morphing into that same look of need and desperation. 

You gave him a gentle smile, carefully reaching out to cup his cheek. “Oh baby, what happened to get you so worked up?” You asked, although you knew he probably couldn’t find a way to respond. He huffed, eyebrows furrowing once more as his lips turned into a pout. He so badly wanted to talk to you. To really be able to explain, but he just couldn’t, and it drove him to near insanity.

He leaned his cheek into your touch, much like a puppy rubbing up against a person for affection. You let your other hand reach up to brush through his beautiful blond curls, a quiet content sigh falling from his slightly parted lips. 

He grew fidgety once more, moving around to try and get comfortable and that’s when you realized that his little issue wasn’t just going to resolve itself. He needed to find a way to take care of it, and by the looks of things, it seemed like you needed to help him. 

“Kyle, I’m going to help you, okay?” You said slowly and clearly, making sure he understood you before you continued.

He perked up instantly, eyes wide and full of anticipation for what was to come. More of you. More of your touch. More more more. Help. You were going to help him.

He followed your lead as you laid him back on the bed, his limbs like deadweight as you tried to position him in the way you wanted. He tried his best to help you, always having to concentrate extra hard to move certain parts of his body. It had to do with his mind and body connection, something that had been severely damaged when he was brought back. 

Once you had successfully positioned him on the bed, arms laid out at his sides and his thighs open wide, you smiled, looking down at him. He was only wearing his dark blue t-shirt, bottom half naked and quivering a bit. His body was in constant motion, never really being able to be fully still. It was always either his hands, or his legs… maybe his face, but it was guaranteed that some part of him was always in motion.

“Okay, I’m going to help you now, if you want me to stop… if you aren’t liking it, I’ll stop. You just have to use your words, okay?” He nodded with a smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks and you so badly just wanted to pinch them.

Settling in between his thighs, your hands dragged across his legs, getting him used to your touch and not just jumping right into jerking him off, not wanting to overwhelm him and potentially get a bad reaction out of him. You always had to take things slow with Kyle.

With an almost feather light touch, you carefully traced the head of his cock with your pointer finger, humming softly as you glanced up at him to see what his expression would be, truly having no idea how he’d react.

Instantly his legs were trying to buck up into the touch, wanting more. Needing more. God he needed so much more of you. All of you. 

With a thick, garbled groan, he looked at you with pleading eyes, urging you to go on. To do more.

And you did just that. You gingerly wrapped your hand around his hard, leaking cock, being careful not to squeeze too much and startle him. You wanted to slowly introduce him to the pleasure and be able to build it up if he did want more.

Kyle, for the first time since he’d come back to life, felt hot. His body felt like it was on fire. A big pit of hot coals settled deep in his stomach, threatening to bubble up. A sheen of sticky sweat covered his forehead as his breathing got heavier, his scarred chest rising and falling with every stroke of your hand over his most intimate part.

“Mnrrrrggh- g-gooood.” He drawled, voice sounding more rough than usual as he panted, hands clenching and unclenching the bedsheets at his sides, not knowing what to do with his body.

“Just relax, Kyle. Let go, I’m right here.” You whispered in reassurance, wanting him to feel comfortable the whole time.

This was such an intimate action and you didn’t want to do anything to cause Kyle to react in a possibly dangerous way. 

Kyle let out a quiet, desperate whine, so overwhelmed by the feeling, but also at the same time, wanting more. Like he couldn’t get enough. 

Sensing this, you settled yourself more in between his legs, letting your tongue slip out and carefully swipe across his cockhead, causing him to nearly cry out at the feeling, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to make sense of the new, wonderful sensation.

You couldn’t help but smirk, carefully swiping your tongue across the tip a few more times before sinking down, lips wrapped tightly around his length as you bobbed your head a bit, stroking the rest that didn’t fit in your mouth.

Kyle was writhing on the bed, and to the naked eye, it would almost appear that he was in pain. You did worry for a second, but the way he opened his eyes and looked down at you told you he was just fine.

You sped up your hand, bobbing your head faster, the slick sound of Kyle’s cock hitting the back of your throat was driving him absolutely crazy and in an instant, you were thrown onto your back, Kyle tearing viciously at your clothes as he grunted, eyes dark and determined.

“Woah! Kyle- be careful- Hey!” You shouted as he ripped off your shirt, hands sweeping across your bare stomach before he pulled off your pajama pants as well.

Everything was happening so fast that you barely had time to think. You tried to sit up, to get Kyle to calm down, but he was so riled up that he couldn’t see reason. He attacked your neck with sloppy kisses and bites, marking you up.

He groaned in frustration as he tried to get your bra off but failed, moving on to your panties instead.

You winced as the harsh thread of fabric was ripped from you, leaving a red mark.

“Kyle! Just- slow down!” 

But he wasn’t listening, not really. He had climbed on top of you, trying to position his cock at your entrance before he slid in. A loud, relieved groan leaving his lips as he nearly collapsed onto you.

He was big, and it hurt. Especially since he had given you no time to adjust before he was moving at a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against yours as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss. 

Your body slowly began to adjust, letting him sink deeper into you. His thrusts didn’t have any particular rhythm to them. He just went in and out, in and out. 

With every thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

You had barely noticed the way Kyle had stilled, soft cries coming from his lips as he was buried against your shoulder. You frowned, thinking that obviously something was wrong, so you pushed Kyle up a bit to get a good look at his face. He was crying. Fat teardrops rolled down his pale, scared face as he looked at you.

“Kyle? Kyle hey- woah look at me, what’s wrong?” You cupped his cheek, trying to sit up a bit, but it was hard because Kyle was still on top of you, as well as inside you.

He simply just shook his head at your question, leaning closer to you, nearly suffocating. It was as if he wanted to crawl inside your body. Just wanted to be as close as humanly possible.

“Kyle-“ you urged, still very worried about the boy on top of you. His thrusts had stopped and he was just crying, seemingly trying to form words, but unable to.

“I-I l-loo-“ he sniffled a bit, a tear dripping from his chin onto your bare breast. You shivered, focusing on his words to try and understand him. 

“Loooooove y-youuuu” he said, looking up at you proudly as he managed to get the words out.

You almost teared up at his confession. He was crying because he loved you? God, you’d never meet another human being as kind and selfless and just… sweet as him. He was one of a kind. 

He whimpered quietly as he began to thrust into you again, and you could tell he was close by the urgency in his thrusts.

“Shhh-“ you whispered, holding him close. Making sure he felt secure and loved. 

“I love you too Kyle. So much, such a good boy- fuck-“ you swallowed hard, grasping at Kyle’s back as he fucked into you, his body quivering as he pulled back a bit to look at you, seeming to ask without words if it was okay to cum. To let go. 

“I’ve got you, Kyle. Go ahead baby.” You cooed, and Kyle’s face contorted in the most beautiful display of pleasure you’d ever seen, his hips stilling after one particularly hard thrust. You felt as his warm seed filled you, and you cursed silently. He hadn’t worn a condom. It’d be fine though. You hoped. You were on birth control, but you knew that didn’t always work.

You relaxed into the bed, pulling a now exhausted Kyle with you. He pulled out of you shakily and curled up beside you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he closed his eyes. 

He was out like a light before you even had the chance to say another word. You got up to get cleaned up before you went to Kyle’s room, seeing the light still on.

And there, on the bed was his tablet, headphones still connected, and a random video pulled up on some porn website. How he had managed to find it astounded you, but you knew only two things.

You loved Kyle more than anyone in this world and would do everything in your power to keep him feeling safe and loved

He needed to be monitored while on his tablet from now on. 

[icallhimjoey]

Prompt idea either for your current fic or a random one shot! Soft!Joey was VERY much not so soft Joey in your dream and you wake up in a STATE about it. Now real Joey needs to rectify his dream world bad behaviour. Angsty Smutty fluffy whatever you think is best.

Love your work!

me: save this for something longer also me: no the girlies need it right now Wordcount: 1.5K

---

Boy Of My Dreams

“Come here, baby.” 

Joe was there.

Right there where you'd left him, holding the covers open for you when he heard you turn off the lights in the bathroom. 

“I’m fine. Was just a dream.” you immediately said, curling back onto your spot, close to him, but your back turned.   

Joe’s eyes were still closed as his hands roamed until fingers trailed up your back to hold onto your neck. To feel some kind of closeness, the laziest way of comforting his girl after a nightmare.  

“Talk later?” 

But his question went unanswered. No confirmation, no dismissal, because either one didn’t feel right. You let the words float and hoped they would float away, real far, hoped they’d make real distance as you both fell back asleep.

Occasionally, you’d have a nightmare that would continue the story of a nightmare you’d had years earlier. A dream you couldn’t even remember, hadn’t consciously thought of since that one morning after you’d woken up from it, but somehow it still managed to store itself away inside your brain. Somewhere deep down, a place you couldn’t reach by yourself, just... lingering there for you to revisit in your sleep eventually.

It happened very rarely, but the second you’d wake up, you’d realise, fuck, this was that same fucking nightmare you had had ages ago.

When you hadn’t even known Joe yet.

Hadn’t even known of his existence, let alone would have known the lines of his face like the back of your hand.

The plush of his lips.

The scruff of his cheeks.

His chin.

The way your mind would hallucinate awful things in your sleep that would feel so vivid and so real was absolutely terrifying, but the addition of Joe’s face made everything so much worse.

Your unconscious mind could play tricks on you.

You knew this.

But in your sleepy haze, the feelings were real. The emotions right there.

And that man who’d scared you years ago in this same nightmare now wore a face that you recognised.

Logically you knew it was an addition.

Something new that hadn’t been there before.

There was no way you’d also dreamt about Joe all those other times - every person in a dream was someone you needed to have seen before, you knew.

But still.

The hand that held onto your neck was of little comfort, and you knew it was silly, but your body still flinched and moved away from the man in your bed because he didn’t feel safe right now.

You hoped Joe wouldn’t react to the quick pull away from him. To the little shimmy you did to duck into your pillow a bit more. But you felt how he raised his head off of his own, likely to see through a squinty eye if you were okay.

“I’ll have forgotten in the morning.” you quickly reassured with a whisper into the dark, and Joe decided he was too tired to get into anything right now anyway. He’d leave it to rest and hoped that you were right. That the next bit of sleep would make you forget about any horrors.

Except it didn’t.

It took you long to fall back asleep, and when you eventually did, you slipped right back into the same awful narrative.

It was why, not that long after you’d woken up that first time, you shook Joe awake. Leant over him, sort of sweaty, big wet eyes close to his face because, you just... you needed to check.

Had to see for yourself.

To see if his eyes were normal.

Joe roused awake, confused and definitely not as alert as you were.

“What?” Joe croaked, a little freaked out by the way you frowned in panic as you searched his eyes. He saw how yours flicked between his left and right.

Normal.

Joe’s eyes were their normal big brown beautiful kind soft ones. Bit tired. Definitely confused. But not the evil pitch black giant orbs you’d just dreamt of. You immediately relaxed and fell back onto your pillow, sighing with relief. This was definitely one of the weirdest most disturbing ways to be woken up before six o’clock.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, voice still just as hoarse, as he turned his head to look at you stare up at the ceiling.

Why were you panting?

“Nothing. I... don’t worry, your eyes are normal.”

Just a dream. It was just a dream. Your nervous system just had to catch up to it.

“My eyes?” Joe was so confused. What the fuck were you talking about?

“You were...” you started, but shook your head instead of finishing the sentence. It was of no use explaining. Just a silly dream. “Never mind. Just...” you looked at the ceiling and even though it was dark, the rubbing of your eyes made you see spots for a second.

Joe watched as you gathered your thoughts for a second, and worry etched deeper into his features.

“Hey,” he whispered, concern thick in his voice, a hand reaching over that placed itself on your forehead. “I was what? What did I do?”

You then turned your head to look at him, moving Joe’s hand into your hair, and you immediately felt guilty. Joe looked far too bothered for your liking.

“Scary.” you admitted, scooting over closer to him. “But you’re not scary now. Was just a dream.”

For a second, that made Joe relax a little. You weren’t talking about him him, you were talking about whatever weird version of him you’d just dreamt about. One without normal eyes, apparently.

Joe accepted you into his arms as you cuddled up to him, finding his sleep warm body to curl yourself around, seeking closeness this time around, because Joe’s eyes were normal and comforting.

He was glad it had just been a dream.

But then, Joe’s thoughts caught up, and actually, Joe didn’t like that.

Joe didn’t like that at all.

Didn’t like how you dismissed a nightmare like it hadn’t affected you when it so very clearly had.

Didn’t like how hugging you tight also meant that he could feel how fast your heart was beating.

Didn’t like how, real or not, you’d been scared of him. Had felt real fear because of him.

He’d been the boy of your nightmare, and that was not okay.

“You had a nightmare about me?” Joe almost sounded hurt, voice small and soft. Like it was his fault that you were breathing the way you were right now. Like he had personally done you a great disservice.

Which wasn’t true, obviously.

It hadn’t actually been him.

“It wasn’t you.” you comforted, pressing your face into Joe’s neck, reminding yourself just as much as you tried convincing him.

“Hm?”

“Just looked like you.”

But that didn’t make it better. Not to Joe, anyway.

The way that you went from trying for a little distance before, to suddenly hiding yourself away into his skin didn’t sit right with him either.

“You okay?” he whispered, a hand trailing up your back as he asked it, ending at your neck where he held onto it like he’d done before.

“Mhm,” you confirmed, and took a big deep breath to hopefully slow your heartbeat down a little. “Need to calm down.”

“Do you want to talk about it? What did I do to you?” Joe didn’t wait for an answer to the first question. Just wanted to know how severe his crimes had been. How big his apology needed to be. How much he needed to comfort you.

But like before, when he’d suggested to talk later, you let the questions sit where they sat, and didn’t provide them with an answer at all. Instead, you just burrowed deeper. Pressed your nose into his skin a little harder. Hitched your leg over his thighs a little higher. Squeezed yourself around his middle a bit more.

Joe decided his crimes had been very severe. Maybe even life sentence sort of stuff. He tightened his arms around your frame, the hand on your neck letting its fingers slide into your hair a little.

“I’m sorry.” Joe murmured against your forehead.

That made your eyes water.

You didn’t want to talk.

That was okay.

Just needed comforting.

“You’re okay,” Joe whispered into your hair, answering his own earlier question. He placed a little kiss there too, eyes closed, determined to make you drift off back to sleep, and it made you whine.

“You’re safe,”you deserved more sleep, but nightmareless this time. No scary eyes.

“I’m here.” Joe squeezed tigther as he felt you relax. From the way you started matching your breathing to his, he knew it was working.

You could have a nice dream about him.

He could be the boy of your dreams. Good, postive, sweet ones.

“No one’s gonna hurt you. Go back to sleep. You’re safe. I’m here.”

The hand that held onto your neck was actually very comforting now, and your body fully relaxed into the man in your bed because; he was right.

No one was going to hurt you.

You were safe.

Joe was there.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[mggsv]

ONCE A MONTH

gn!reader x neuvillette (18+) | not proof read

summary : When the hydro dragon’s in heat and need to lay his seed..what better option than you?

warnings : breeding kink, mentions of “heat” (THIS IS NOT a/o/b.) slight!sub Neuvillette, oral (m receiving), virgin!neuvillette, loss of virginity

“Are you positive that you want to do this?”

“Yes..of course.” You look down at the contract nervously. You felt your mouth run dry, looking over the words you glanced at three times before, and your signature at the bottom. It wasn’t normal for this thing to happen- not in Fontaine. You guessed it was different with Neuvillette, since he’s the Hydro dragon. It was only right that he had something like that going on with himself. You hand him back the paper before smiling softly. His expression was hard to read but you saw his small grip on the paper as he filed it. “I’ve never done this with anyone else before.” Neuvillette’s cheeks were a small shade of red. “Is that alright as well? It’s not stated on the paper-“

“It’s..alright sir.” you smile. “As long as a get to help.”

“I’ll see you in a week, then.”

“Yes, of course.”

Never in a million years did you expect to sign your freedom away to be the fuck toy of Neuvillette himself once a month. After all, it is an opportunity of a lifetime.

-

“Is it too big to fit?” you stared at Neuvillette’s naked frame. His broad shoulders, neck coated in sweat as his hair flowed down his back, the hydro symbol on his lower stomach.He panted heavily, lips parted as he stared at how much you leaked from your hole..perfect little hole he couldn’t wait to destroy. thoughts clouded his mind, his eyes covered in a slight gray haze as he clenched his hands, obviously holding back from taking you right there.

Your mouth hung open as well, the length that hung between his legs bother heavy and leaking. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t warn you first..” he goes to apologize, shaking hands reaching out towards you. “Perhaps we should have prepped more-“ he rushes out, “No- no Neuvillette it’s okay!” You sit up from the silk sheets and motion him forward. He’s in front of you in an instant. Your hands crept up his thighs, beginning to kiss the girth on his lengthy cock. He moans softly, throwing his head back. You felt your ears warm..here you are, sucking the cock of the chief justice of Fontaine, and being the very first to do so. “You’re..perfect as always.” Your tongue dances around the skin, moaning softly as you felt his nervous hand place up top your head.

“You feel- good. Better than pillows…” The groan that left his lips went straight down to your sex, throbbing for him, waiting for him….it belonged to him now after all. “Ah~ yes..y-yes right there please..” He was a mess. His red face warned you of what was to come- why you were here in the first place. Taking care of Neuvillette’s heat. It was unheard of, but he was different in some way after all, he needed to lay his little dragon seed..who would say no to that? You stroked the rest of his cock your mouth couldn’t reach. Neuvillette was a mess. “oh..oh god-!” He whined, hips instinctively moving to thrust into your mouth. You look up at him, hands in your lap while he fucked your throat to reach his orgasm. “I..I can’t hold it in..I-“ He chokes out a moan, holding your head on his angry cock while coating your mouth.

Every drop tasted like heaven. Neuvi looks down at you, face flushed as he let go of your hair, panicking. “Y/N- Im very sorry I don’t know what took over me.” He wipes off the corner of your mouth. Shaking your head you stand, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re perfectly fine..” your thigh brushes up against his cock, still hard. “And we aren’t done.”

Neuvillette slept comfortably, you could tell. The bed sank slightly along with your body while stood there, mouth agape at the sight of your wet sex open for him. Your head laid on one of his pillows, ass in the air. His hand hesitantly touched your soft skin, his thumb pulling at one of your cheeks to expose your hole just a bit more… “May I?” Neuvi asks. You hum softly in response.

“I..I cannot hold it in anymore.” Neuvillette’s voice grows heavier, feeling his thick cock against your thigh. “I want to fill you with my seed, and although I cannot reproduce with your species, I would’ve loved to see your stomach full and round with it.” He presses up against your hole, groaning as he slowly started to enter you. Inch by inch causing you to moan aloud, hole tightening around him. “Thank you, for taking me.”

[sserasin]

ahhh drabble about reader riding natty’s face because natty was too loud? maybe from natty’s pov?

face riding w/ natty

cw nsfw under cut, female reader, oral (receiving), degrading names (slut)

natty thinks she could die like this.

with you sitting on her face, letting her eat you out— she wouldn’t care if a bomb dropped or if someone walked in. her whole life could be ruined, or at the very least, blackmailed, and she wouldn’t care as long as she could taste your sweet juices.

“can’t talk now, huh?” you pant, betraying your composed state as a low moan leaves your lips a second after. you grind your hips down, eyes closing as natty thrusts her tongue in and out of your hole. “you’re so shameless— you don’t even care, do you?”

natty attempts to shake her head in protest, making you moan louder this time and you slap a hand over your mouth at the new angle, “oh— oh shit, do that again—”

natty listens without hesitation, shaking her head and bumping her nose into your clit. she loves that you’re basically fucking yourself on her tongue, that you’re using her.

your hand grips her hair, putting your foot up on the bed and raising up, bringing her head up with you. her moan is cut off by her face being shoved in your pussy, the vibrations making you bite back a moan and try to gain your composure again, saying, “what did i say? be quiet. you don’t want your members to hear their natty be used like the slut she is?”

natty finally realizes that she’s bucking her hips up into the air, trying to hump something, anything— but it’s not there. she whines pathetically, sound muffled as she looks up from you under her eyelashes. she moves her mouth up and sucks on your clit, switching frantically and messily between your clit and hole.

your breath hitches, “you want to let julie and belle know how much you love eating pussy? love eating my pussy, and only mine?” your hips stutter, her hands gripping your thighs to hold you down so you can’t get up. the top half of your body falters, your hand gripping the top of the headboard. your head turns back slightly, and whatever you see makes you laugh, “oh, that really turned you on th—that bad? you came without me even touching you.”

she can’t even bring herself to care that her cum soaked her underwear sticky, or that you were clearly mocking her. it just made her eager to make you come even more, and she could tell you were there when your thighs tighten around her head as she vigorously fucks her tongue in and out of you, making sure her nose kept hitting your clit at the right angle.

your moan becomes high pitched, and she gasps slightly when you cum on her tongue, eagerly licking it all up. you attempt to pull her hands off of your thighs to let you up, but she refuses until she deems you clean of your juices and she’s swallowed every bit of it back.

your release is her most favorite flavor, and she could never get enough of you. you’re whining, she realizes in her haze, blinking up at you and finally letting go of you. you fall on the bed beside her, panting slighty.

natty gasps for breath, even daring to day, eyes flickering up and down your body hungrily, “next time, we sh—should try sixty-nine. you were loud, too.”

you don’t even have the energy to punish her or even glare at her, simply flickering your eyes over to her in annoyance, “how about i don’t let you come at all?”

natty shuts up and decides to start the bath.

[anantaru]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟗 — 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

✦ kinktober day 19 — dumbification feat. al-haitham : childe : ayato : zhongli x fem! reader | kinktober masterlist.

✦ warnings: nsfw : dumbification : !!! both parties are consenting !!! : calling you dumb, pathetic, stupid but in a cute way

✦ 𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

"shh, this is okay, you're okay." you could perceive al-haitham's warm breath coating the shell of your ear, his rough lips tracing over your sensitive skin before sucking down on your earlobe. "we're not done yet, you know that, right?" the obvious feeling of a self-satisfied smirk playing across his rosy lips was somehow turning you on further, your already fucked out state perceiving new heights.

your mouth widened upon trying to say something, anything, yet nothing of importance was coming out, only short babbles and incoherent sentences of pure filth. You adored whenever al-haitham wouldn't hold back, whenever he'd claim you like that, fucking you silly until you felt like an empty shell, only filled with his cock that hit all the right spots deep inside you. Your cunt was aching, sucking him in as his hips grinded themselves into you, his pelvis rubbing hard against your clit which caused you to squeal out, eyes scrunched shut with your back arching into him.

"my stupid little baby, have i fucked you dumb already?" you're nodding frantically, a faint line of drool pooling out of the corners of your mouth as your lips slightly carved up into a tiny smile. "how much I love seeing you like that." his eyes closed suddenly and his mouth fell open, a guttural groan coming right out of his throat as he felt you squeeze around his girth. It's the most expressive he's been all night with you, his usual collected demeanor slowly falling apart and it's your fault alone, a little current of self satisfaction ringing over you.

✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

how thankful you were that childe always took such good care of you, his lips twitching up into a smirk upon seeing you unravel against him. You felt so full, his cock fully sheathed in your tight cunt before slowly beginning to rut himself in. You tried your best to spread your legs wider, anything for ajax to be more efficient in fucking your brains out.

there was drool running from past the corners of your lips, enhancing the already lewd expression on your face, "how beautiful you look like that." ajax had a self satisfied smirk on his face resembling a man who knew he was in power, who knew he could do just how he pleased. "beautiful, but pathetic." his words turning into a moan as he grinded himself in another winkle to reach deeper into your cunt. You're crying out his name, legs flying up in the air to wrap around his body tighter, spine arching into his passionate touches.

your make-up was splotched on your face, mascara runny with your lashes sticking together, a sinful masterpiece in childe's eyes, one that needed to be engraved in his mind forever. He was tasting his orgasm on his tongue already, dreaming of staining your sensitive walls with his warm cum before finally reaching his desired climax upon hearing you groan out incoherent words. Childe threw his head back, feeling how you sucked him in, tightening around his girth and archons, how he adored fucking you dumb like that.

✦ 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

ayato's grip was hard on your hips, your behind pushed up in the air while your face was shoved into the soft pillows. You could feel his hand pressing against the back of your head while rutting his cock forward into your heat, your pussy splitting open with every thrust. "fuck, angel, you're getting messier." his voice husky and playful, with innocent undertones that you very much knew weren't sincere.

your hardened nipples were rubbing against the bedsheets with every snap forward of his hips, only adding to the already unbearable pleasure you experienced. "more." you're crying out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze unable to escape, the ache in between your legs growing within minutes. Ayato was surprised you still were able to voice anything by the brute force he was fucking you into the mattress. "yeah?" he smirked, his sexual confidence radiating through the room as your body shivered around his hold.

"spread your legs wider then." his commanding tone was deep, hoarse and guttural, coming from deep inside his throat as you whined at his simple command. You were trying your best, shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches while it was becoming harder to breathe from the way ayato was pushing you into the mattress. "good." your blood was boiling, ayato twirled his fingers in your hair, suddenly thrusting forward to push his cock deeper down your sobbing cunt, catching you off guard. "my dumb little baby, is that what you wanted?" you weren't responding, unable to do so, really. Yet by the way you were desperately clenching around his girth, was enough of an answer to him.

✦ 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈

the pleasure you were encountering because of zhongli made your head feel dizzy and heavy, your vision blurred with your own tears as you scrunched your eyes shut to get rid of them. You swallowed thickly as you fluttered your eyes open again, meeting his gaze in between your legs. Zhongli was licking his lips, his lustful expression making it difficult for you to remain silent, whining at his touches.

his eyes were never leaving your sobbing cunt, your folds glistering with both your juices and his spit as he dove back in, lapping up everything you gave him. You bucked your hips up into his mouth, loosing control over your own body as your hands tangled into his unruly hair. "it seems you like that." his voice eliciting soft whimpers from you, you could hear a groan coming out of his throat upon hearing you moan his name, over and over again.

"have you already reached your limits?" you desperately tried to shake your head, to tell him that you were fine and could still take it, could take him. Zhongli pulled away his tongue for a second, staring at your wet core, "I'll continue then." he teased, sliding a finger past your folds before spitting on your cunt, moving his tongue around again to get you even wetter, eyes rolling back as your legs got tighter around his head. He had you were he wanted you, even though zhongli wouldn't admit it, always hiding his real intentions with poems and riddles, he was quite possessive towards you, only ever showing it to you like that.

kinktober masterlist.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

[ddollipop]

I BLOOM JUST FOR YOU. . . ! — ( TIGHNARI. )

#. synopsis! — the reader comes into contact with a peculiar flower in avidya forest that has some even more peculiar affects. tighnari steps in to clean up the mess.

#. contains! — explicitly nsfw content , multiple positions , multiple orgasms , oral sex , cunnilingus , sex pollen , overstimulation , light squirting , vaginal sex , mentor x underling , tighnari calls the reader "good girl" , slight praise .

#. word count! — 4.1k .

#. a/n! — happy kinktober, we'll see how many times i post this month lolol. this isn't proofread bc i'm lazy & just finished up midterms yesterday, so pls ignore any mistakes for the time being n enjoy.

Don’t judge a book by its cover. As a well-educated scholar, you were well beyond aware of that advice. You’ve heard it more times than you’ll ever care to repeat it, and before now, you would have even ventured to say that you were quite good at following it. And yet, despite that, you’ve been left stumbling your way through the forest, an unquenched thirst lapping at every inch of you from the inside out, —and all of this over a few samples of some strange flower’s pollen? Really?

It’s embarrassing, to say the very least of it. There are a million and one ways you know you should have done better, should have been more careful, more cautious. . . But now is hardly the time to be giving yourself some sort of incoherent lecture. After all, Tighnari will likely have that covered anyway, and certainly in a much more concise manner. You can practically hear him now, going on and on as he helps you deal with whatever the hell this stuff has done to you. It’s hard not to kick yourself for such a novice level mistake, but it’s just as equally difficult to imagine taking any criticism well, from yourself or from Tighnari, in this admittedly sorry state of yours.

It’s an incredible feat within itself that you were able to find your way back to Tighnari’s woodland workshop. The forest is dense and full of twists and turns, —ones that you find yourself turned around in on even the best of days. Maybe after two months you’re finally getting used to it.

Whatever the case, you slink your way inside to the tempo of the rapidly setting sun. Your knees all but clink together as you fumble about, using the wall to keep yourself steady. Tighnari’s ears twitch at the sudden sounds of struggle, head popping up along with the perked ears atop it. Observant as he always is, he quickly realizes that something is wrong. What that something is, he’s not so sure yet, but he rushes to your side nonetheless.

“Y/n?” He questions, reaching a warm, gentle hand out to you. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Just the brush of his fingertips against the plane of your shoulder is enough to leave you stiffened and hissing under your breath. These reactions aren’t inherently unfamiliar to you, —but under such circumstances? They’re unheard of.

“I feel weird,” you say, inhibitions lowered, leaving you more honest than you normally would have been if everything weren’t buzzing so loud in your veins.

Your heartbeat is hammering away, legs squeezing together involuntarily. The heat between your legs is pulsing and you can feel arousal slicking you up. But why?

“Weird?” Tighnari parrots, “—weird how? As in. . .”

He cuts himself off mid-sentence, then pauses. His nose crinkles a bit, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath. When his eyes widen in an expression of realization, you can’t help but fear that this isn’t going to end very well. 

“Describe your symptoms,” he says finally, but it seems to you that he may well already know what you’re going to answer with.

Through the haze clouding your mind and the heat swimming through your body, you manage to list off a sizable index, excluding your dripping cunt. Weakness in the knees, racing heartbeat, shortness of breath. . .

“I know this smell,” he says, emphasizing his words with another quick breath in, nose scrunching up on the inhale. “The samples you collected today, —where are they?”

“The satchel,” you answer, vaguely directing your chin in the right direction as you shift your position, hoping that it might relieve you of some of the tension eating away at your core. (It doesn’t.)

Tighnari follows your gesture and scoops the brown bag up off the ground. You’d dropped it somewhere along the line as you’d stumbled in through the entrance, but the details are already much too blurry to work out, so you refuse to even try. The last thing you need now is more strain on your feeble little mind. He digs his way into the various pockets, rifling through your decent number of plant-life samples. One of the tiny containers has a selection of poisonous berries in it, but Tighnari is fairly certain you wouldn’t have been foolish enough to eat them without knowledge of them.

He asks anyway, —just to be sure. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

“You didn’t swallow any of these, right?”

Through the subtle arch of your back, you give him an offended glance. He takes that as his answer.

“No, no, no,” he mumbles, quickly but carefully carding through the rest of the samples, excluding non-toxic plant matter and otherwise harmless collections.

And then it hits him. Spread between two hands, he holds three containers of the same off-white, powder-like pollen. The sickeningly sweet smell sticking to your skin makes too much sense now. He knew that he’d smelled it before, but couldn’t place it. Now that two and two have been put together, Tighnari feels a pit grow in his gut.

“You collected this without gloves, didn’t you?” He questions, and you hate that even through your stupor, you can hear the disappointment ebbing along the edge of his words.

The least this feverish karma could do is offer you some sanctuary from your mentor’s subtle wrath.

“I. . .” You begin, but can’t bring yourself to admit it, instead settling for a nod.

It’s getting worse now. You’re shocked that you’re not sitting in a pool of your own arousal by this point, but fear you might be teetering on the cusp of it. The whine that escapes between your lips from the back of your throat is humiliating in spite of Tighnari’s indifference to it all.

“That was a poor decision,” he tells you. “The pollen of the flower you collected these samples from is genetically modified. It was designed to stimulate the sexual drive of mammals in the area due to a sudden population drop that was offsetting the forest’s ecosystem.”

“This,” Tighnari says sharply, holding one of your samples up for emphasis, “is a heightened aphrodisiac, and from the looks of it,” he pauses, taking your shivering form in with a scrutinizing gaze, “—you’re quite sensitive to it.”

That seems like an understatement, even to you and your staggering thoughts. Being sensitive was one thing, but this was on a completely different plane of reality. Every move you make sends a tantalizing mixture of shivers and shockwaves across your body, both inside and out, limiting your options for relief. It didn’t stop at the swelling heat festering and bubbling in your groin, —it spread to every part of you imaginable, from the dry hum in your clenched toes to the ringing in your ears. 

“How do I fix it?” You question breathlessly, hips dipping and rising to the catastrophic drum of your libido.

Tighnari’s ears flatten a bit in embarrassment as his cheeks dust themselves a light pink. It hardly dawns on you that he might be feeling some semblance of shame in this scenario as well.

“Well, you’ll have to. . .” He stops, as if preparing himself to say whatever’s coming next.

You’ve got a bad feeling about it now, even if it doesn’t register above the quiver in your thighs.

“Satisfy the drive.”

He turns away to put the pollen samples out of harm's way, busying his hands so as to not have to meet your eyes.

The broken “huh?” that falls from your lips sounds more like a moan of pleasure than it does a noise of inquiry, but it’s the best you can do given the circumstances. Tighnari is not proud of the way his cock twitches upon hearing it, but supposes that it can’t be helped. It’s undeniable that you’re attractive, both in general and to him. . . Especially to him.

Unable to force it down any longer, your hand travels between your thighs and you cup yourself roughly, begging for the warmth and friction it provides. Just that alone has a tattered moan rising to the back of your throat, head falling back against the wall that steadies the small bed in Tighnari’s workshop. It’s seen many bodies over the years, most of them ill or injured, but never like this. Your mentor thinks to himself that he’s glad it’s you before anyone else. He turns to you once more, eyes raking over your frame in this embarrassing state.

“T-Tighnari,” you sputter a bit, attempting to hold yourself in place long enough to escape the humiliation. “Can you please look away?”

Before he can filter it, (though he’s not sure he would have truly known how in the first place,) Tighnari’s lips part and words tumble from his tongue like heavy rainfall.

“I can help.”

It sounds more like a question than an assertion, but either way, you’re in no position to refuse.

“Please,” you whimper, desperation clinging to every letter.

Maybe some of the pollen has affected him too. Maybe Tighnari just wants to dive deeper into this moment to see just what’ll happen, like some kind of very hands-on experiment. Whatever the case, he nods, ears twitching rapidly as he leans over you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that leaves you gasping into his mouth. Somehow, you hadn’t expected that to be his mode of aid, but whatever he thinks is best, you’re more than willing to give it a try. For someone so consistently calm and collected, his tongue slides into your mouth in a matter of seconds, sliding smoothly against your own. There is no fight for dominance, —you’re far too gone to even think about being in control. Whatever Tighnari can offer, you’re ready and willing to accept with open arms.

Or, an open mouth and open legs, rather. . .

Your saliva is overwhelmingly sweet, and the quizzical side of Tighnari wonders if it’s always like that, or if the pollen’s effects have slithered into even the most crude of places. Not that he minds it, especially in the moment.

You mumble something against his lips that he doesn’t catch through the hum in his veins and his pounding heartbeat, but his guess hits the mark as he clumsily falls to his knees at the edge of the bed. Pulling the shoes from your feet with ease, he has a bit more difficult of a time pulling the bottom layers of your clothing from your body. It dawns on him then that he isn’t well-educated or well-experienced in this department. Thankfully, you’re so blissed out having only kissed him sloppily for a minute that he assumes you’ll take just about anything, and he’s free to make mistakes along the way.

He pauses for a moment, much to your displeasure, and you sit forward using the bulk of your strength.Your fingers split his ears apart, raking through his neatly groomed hair, and Tighnari shivers. Admittedly, you’ve wanted to touch his ears for a long time now, ever since you first met him. . . But it seemed inappropriate to ask given his station as your mentor, and even more than that, you could always tell he became quite agitated when others would request such a thing to his face. This isn’t how you thought such a thing would come to pass, but the dominos have fallen, and it is what it is.

Frankly, you’re more concerned with the way he slits you open: —first with his tongue, offering a small prodding with barely more than the tip to get a grasp on your flavor. The arousal slicking you up is sweet, maybe sweeter than your saliva had been, but even so, Tighnari isn’t certain if it’s just your natural secretion or if that pollen really does have something to do with it. The second time is with his fingers, separating the lips to catch a glimpse of the silken folds they cover. 

You’re glistening in the last rays of dying sunlight, legs perched on either side of yourself, and Tighnari wonders if this is all some strange fever dream. Every part of him feels as if it’s been consumed by you; lost to your tempo and your rhythm. He’s drowning in your ocean.

His second taste is brought about through a long, deliberate lick that uses the full flat of his tongue. It brushes past your swollen clit, dips into the needy opening, and lingers just below your mound before he pulls away and does it again. There’s something about the way you squirm and pant from so little that has him less than threads away from going feral. Your entire body is hotter than it’s ever been, temperature spiking more the longer he has his way between your thighs. Tighnari may well be a forest-dwelling man, but he certainly could have fooled you with this display of primal thirst. The way he works his tongue against every sweet spot it can reach is enough to make you see stars.

In the moment, he seems something more akin to a prowler of the desert than anything else.

You draw one of your stabilizing hands up, pressing the fingers firmly over your lips, keeping them sealed. Every inch of you is throbbing with need, even as Tighnari satisfies what urges he can with his mouth. Observant as ever, he notices the way your lone arm shakes under the pressure of it all, and after a moment of admiring the way your muscles quiver just under your skin, he pulls away and seeks a different position.

Even when riled up beyond any shred of comprehension, Tighnari is a gentleman at heart.

“Lay back,” he suggests, and you do: right against the top of the bed that’s houses but a single pillow.

He wastes no time positioning himself back between your legs, pushing your knees to the side and then up just a bit for ample access. This time, Tighnari skips the inquisitive gestures, spitting right onto your slit before suctioning his mouth around you. From above, your moans and the way you writhe around every so often encourages him to keep going as saliva bubbles up around his lips.

You claw at the thin sheets spread across the bed’s equally thin mattress, hips eventually bucking up into his mouth. He loves the way your pussy grinds against the flat of his tongue, moving with him as he pulls you closer and closer to orgasm. Pulling your knees nearer to your core, Tighnari matches your stride. Once more, he latches onto your sensitive clit, relishing in the little yelp you let out as he slides his tongue across it roughly. Above your own noises and the suckling sounds between your thighs, you can hear Tighnari’s sharp breaths. As your fingers find their way between his ears again, clutching and pulling at his hair, he draws little shapes along your clit with his tongue until you’re left cumming against his mouth.

Whether it’s Tighnari’s skill or the ever-present impact of the pollen, your eyes roll back and your fingernails dig into the flat of your palms even through the fabric of the sheets clutched between them. Somehow, though. . . It’s not enough.

“Better?” He asks, —but is secretly hoping for the answer to be a resounding “no.”

He’s embarrassingly elated when you shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip in the process. It’s not that he wants to take advantage of the situation, but what else is a man to do? You’re in desperate need, and he can offer you the assistance you require.

That, and he really wants to fuck you.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, extending his back as he sits on his knees to reach up and cup your cheek. “I’ll take care of it.”

Every cell inside you is on fire as you watch Tighnari undress. The sun has mostly finished setting, leaving the both of you in the care of torchlight from the entrance of the workshop. The warm glow of the fire accentuates his lean muscle and the subtle pigment of his skin. Without thinking, your hand travels to the heat between your legs, rubbing circles against yourself as Tighnari had done with his tongue. Just the sight of you masturbating to him undressing is enough to make pre-cum pool along the slit of his cock.

“I don’t even think you realize how hot you are right now,” he breathes out, as if unable to keep that sentiment holed up inside any longer.

You really didn’t have a clue.

He returns to the bed, tugging you up to position you on his lap. Your dripping cunt hangs just over the reddened tip of his cock, and Tighnari holds your hips steady as he coaxes you down on it. Albeit average in girth, he was surprisingly long, —at least longer than you’d been expecting. It takes you a few moments to slink down completely, but when you do, he reaches up to pull you into another sloppy kiss. He was hoping it would distract you from any sting of pain.

“Good,” he mumbles against your lips, “that’s a good girl.”

Tighnari does away with the rest of your clothing, tossing your blouse and bra. . . Somewhere. You were far too preoccupied to check on the location. His lithe fingers trail their way up your exposed spine. You’re so warm and wet, your walls suckling on the hard cock of his buried deep within your needy snatch. He doesn’t want to rush you, but he’s aching too by now.

“Go on,” he whispers softly, encouraging you to ride him for the both of your sakes.

You do.

Overly sensitive and shaky from the get-go, your moves aren’t clean nor crisp, but Tighnari loves the rogueness of every motion. You’re left squelching around his length each time your desperate cunt swallows him up again, clit throbbing from the friction. Moans fall continuously from your lips, ringing in Tighnari’s ears like a melody the moment you rest your forehead against his bare shoulder as you ride him. Eventually, his hands find their way to your ass, helping you find a natural rhythm that suits your capabilities in the moment.

He can feel you quivering against him, and he thinks it’s cute.

“Good job,” he praises in a breathy voice, mumbling the words right into your ear. “Just keep it up and we’ll get all of this out of your system.”

Tighnari is by no means stingy with compliments. Now that he’d settled in, he was more than glad to whisper sweet nothings in your pink-tipped ear, mumbling about how nice it feels to be inside you and how beautiful you look speared on his cock like this. And every last word of it is painfully true.

You bounce and grind to your heart’s content on his member, digging your nails into his supple skin in the process. The little twinges of pain paired with the heat of your drooling pussy leaking arousal all over him is well past the point of blissing him out.

When he reaches between your bodies to slide the tip of his thumb over your clit, it doesn’t take long before you’ve been pushed over the edge. That first orgasm really loosened your nerves, making you that much more sensitive, which was somehow possible in spite of your skepticism. Tighnari loves the way your back arches when you cum, chest pressing right up against him. He’s yet to chase his own release with your body. That will undoubtedly come with time, —but this is about you, and Tighnari is nothing if not willing to put your pleasure before his own.

It just so happens that his coincides very much with yours, in this instance.

He doesn’t even rush you as your second orgasm wears off, instead waiting until your cunt stops periodically clenching around him before he suggests another position change.

This time, Tighnari wants you on your side; which offers you a welcome rest. His front matches the curve of your back as he wraps a single arm around your neck, pulling you close to him. With his free hand, he reaches out to grab hold of your leg, pulling it up to offer himself better access to your entrance. With both of his hands full, it’s up to you to guide him inside, and when you do it feels like heaven. There’s something special about the angle of this position that lets him poke and prod at all the right places, and when he cranes his neck forward, sticking his tongue out for you to suck, you waste no time in latching on to lap at his mouth.

The frantic desperation in your every move is somehow angelic, despite the lewdness of it all. Tighnari thinks to himself that he could sit here just like this, watching you wiggle and writhe against him, for an eternity or two.

Tighnari cants his hips, slapping himself against the flesh of your ass every time he slams back in. The head of his long cock eventually angles just right, and you squeal just a bit when he brushes against the sweetest spot inside you. A smirk pulls at Tighnari’s lips.

“That’s the spot, hm?” He asks, slowing his pace deliberately in order to offer you a series of slow, delicious hammerings that hit just right.

You slur something out through the fog on your brain that somewhat sounds like “yes” before bringing your hand down to play with yourself. Between your shaky fingertips swirling around your clit and the head of Tighnari’s cock slowly pumping against your g-spot, it’s less than sixty seconds before you’re cumming for the third time, pussy convulsing around your mentor. This time, liquid seeps out uncontrollably from the hole Tighnari is stuffed in. It’s not a lot, but it’s incredibly warm, and it dribbles down your thighs before soaking into the sheets.

He loves the way it feels as it trickles down his shaft when he finally decides to pull out.

“One more time, just for good measure,” Tighnari mumbles, pressing both your shoulders to the mattress. 

He’s yet to cum himself, and this time, he’ll be seeking his own release in tandem with yours. His thumb presses against your tongue for a moment as he waits for your breathing to even out. When it does, he pushes your legs apart once more and stations himself between your thighs. It’s an easy entrance, of course, but your walls still grip him just right. Cum slicks him up further and strings itself between your cunt and his length, as if emphasizing his every move.

He likes the way you bite down on the side of your hand, eyes half-lidded from pleasure. The trust you place in him is both sincere and incredibly stimulating for your fox-eared lover.

This position is simple, yet fulfilling all the same. Tighnari listens to your little noises, watches your eyes dance about in your skull, and has an equally thirst-quenching view of his own reddened cock shifting in and out of your cunt. His mouth waters from just the sight of it alone.

“This is an important lesson,” he says, emphasizing that with a particularly rough thrust that leaves your spine arching off the bed. “These are the things that happen when you collect unknown plant matter without gloves.”

Your body burns both from the shame of having disappointed him, and from the way his length fills you up.

Tighnari doesn’t say it, but he knows that you understand you don’t have to go and send your body into hyperdrive to garner his attention. You’re a smart girl, after all. . . All you have to do is ask.

With just a few more pumps in and out, Tighnari feels his own orgasm bubbling just under his skin. Your body mourns the loss when he pulls out for the final time, resting the tip of himself against your slit. As he rubs the head of his cock against your swollen clit, the both of you climax, your cunt throbbing and convulsing as he spills his seed between the lips of your pussy. It dribbles down so beautifully, like sticky sap from a tall tree.

Surprisingly composed given the circumstances and Tighnari’s rather conservative demeanor, he allows himself a bit of calming down before sliding off the bed and redressing. It’s a quick process, one that makes your head spin.

“Clean yourself up while I’m gone,” he tells you, seemingly back to his typical self. “I’ll dispose of the pollen before you find yourself in an even worse predicament.”

But, at least you were spared the majority of the lecture.

[stellarbit]

But Do Remember Often

1.8k words Warnings: Sad and I definitely cried teared up writing this.

Spoilers... ish? If you need some Tech closure, this might be for you.

Listen to this while you read it.

You wake to find yourself back in the Marauder with Tech and you have a choice to make.

Filtering in through a fog of pain and ringing in your ears, came the hum of the Marauder controls. You lightly touched your head, blinking your eyes open. The dim light of space mingled with the soft red and white controls around you. You didn’t remember when you’d fallen asleep, but there you were, slumped in the copilot chair of the Marauder.

“Ah, you are awake.” Tech’s voice came from your left.

His voice bubbled up a pleasant hum from your chest. You smiled, rolling your head to the side to find him facing you in the pilot’s seat. “How long have I been out?”

Tech sat stiffly in the chair, his hands gripping his thighs. His eyes momentarily darted to the floor before settling on the void beyond the viewport. “I… am uncertain.”

His hesitancy crinkled your nose. Adjusting yourself in the seat, you scanned the stars around you. The lingering drowsiness blurred your memory of the voyage. “Tech, how much longer do we have?”

He was silent for a moment too long, his gaze lingering on the star-strewn void outside before meeting yours with a weight that seemed to pull at the very air between you. "We... don't have a destination, not in the way you think." Tech sighed, continuing, “Before we discuss further, it's crucial to address your current state."

Your heart skipped. Something in his tone, the heaviness of his pause, stirred a dread deep within you. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "You are unconscious. You were injured during the mission on Tantiss - a mission I was not a part of.” The room seemed to spin slightly as his words sank in.

A pain throbbed dully at the back of your mind, urging you to focus through the haze. The distant sound of metal and earth colliding echoed through you.

"Unconscious? But I'm here, talking to you." You shook your head lightly, finding some joke in his words. “I don’t... remember being injured." You did a quick scan of your body, but nothing was amiss. 

Tech’s grip on his thighs tightened, sympathy flickering in his eyes, “You wouldn’t. It happened before... before you entered this state."

“State?” You scoffed, but images flashed by you. Falling through the forest, blaster fire, impact - all blurring together. Blinking away the scene, you focused again on Tech. For the first time, you noticed light shimmer around him.

A knowing knot formed in your throat, threatening to make you sick. Deep within your chest, locked far from your mind, a crack split wide open and the pain that followed cut off your air supply.

Quivering and choked up, you managed to ask, “If I’m here because of my injuries, then why are you here?" A tear, a premonition of what was to come, slipped from your eye and nothing could stop the rest that followed.

“Physically, you are not here with me. Nor am I with you.” Tech explained carefully, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. You choked again at the sight. “I was not with you on Tantiss because I could not be. I perished, months ago, on Eriadu”

The revelation, the memory, felt like a cold wave flooding you.  “Tech,” you said his name in a desperate plea, as if calling it out could halt time itself. Still, you shook, your entire body rocking slightly as your head bobbed from side to side.

Tech said your name softly, his tone a beacon, snapping your attention back and anchoring you to the moment. You tried to hold back the frown, the devastation; the denial was suffocating.

He swallowed hard, the motion visible, and rose from his chair to kneel before you. His eyes lingered over you, soaking in the sight as if memorizing every detail. Tech clenched a hand into a fist; this was as hard for him as it was for you. 

“What’s happening?” You weren’t sure if you’d ever asked him so many questions before. A part of you feared you were wasting precious moments in doing so.

“It would stand to reason,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotion he worked to mask, “that in moments like these, the mind can create vivid, immersive experiences, or even memories.”

His analytical eyes met yours, and though they were filled with a deep sorrow at seeing the terror washing over you, he knew he had to let you navigate through this realization on your own.

“So this,” You sobbed, “This isn’t real?”

A faint smile pulled at the corner of his lips. Something you so cherished, lost for months, and now breaking your heart. “I am here, as much as any memory or echo can be.” Tech brought a knuckle to his chin, tapping as he processed it himself. “It's not uncommon for those with your abilities to have... visions, especially under extreme stress or near-death conditions.”

You absorbed his words, the clinical detachment with which he presented this stark reality clashing with the emotional turmoil it wrought within you. It was so like Tech to relay even the most heartbreaking news in such a factual manner.

Tech continued, “When I died, part of me remained, anchored through the force and connected to you because of our bond. It would be an apt hypothesis, all things considered, that that is how we can still speak, how I can still be by your side in this way. It's rare, uncharted…” He shook his head, clearly amazed himself. “I cannot provide all the answers. But I believe it’s your will that brought us here.”

So you were alone, yet not alone; you were communicating with something beyond the physical, a part of Tech that had refused to let go entirely.

"And what about me?" you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "Am I... am I dying?"

"Not entirely, no," Tech said firmly. "I believe you are caught in between, because of your injury. But this state... it's temporary. You can return."A selfish part of him seemed to surface, hesitant but honest, “It is your choice,” he added, the words heavy with implication.

You covered your face in your hands, wondering if you’d ever be able to breathe again. Two gloved hands tugged on your hands. Looking up, you could barely see Tech through the floodgate of tears. 

Tech reached up with a hand that, you knew, could never truly touch yours again. Yet, you felt it on your cheek brushing away the ceaseless tears. Tech's voice was gentle as he said, “But I am gone from the living world. And you... you have a choice to make: to stay lost in these memories, or to move forward.”

The pain was immense, squeezing your chest until you thought you might shatter. "How can I leave you, Tech? After everything?"

His hand still on yours, he squeezed. “I am quite aware of your strength. You are one of the strongest people I have ever known.” His head tilted in a strangely confident way. It almost made you smile. “Besides, seeing as how I am not going anywhere, you would not be leaving me.”

He stood, drawing your attention upward as he rose. Taking a step back, he gently pulled on your hand, guiding you out of the chair.

Tech stood before you, still holding your hand in the space between you, his expression adorned with a proud smile. "You will always be fascinating," he declared. Then, with a gentle tug at your waist, he drew you close to him.

The sturdiness of his presence was undeniable. You swept your hand up his neck, feeling him solid beneath your touch. You felt him there, could even smell him—every detail vivid, every memory of him acute. You missed everything about him.

“I’d like to ask you something,” he said, his gaze shifting between your eyes, a keen observer eager to capture every nuance of your reaction.

Your voice, barely a whisper, surprised you. “Yes?” When had your tears ceased?

He leaned in closer, his presence enveloping, his eyes searching yours for the truths they held. “Do you regret joining Clone Force 99?”

You took a sharp inhale, your hand instinctively tightening around his neck. “Never.”

“Do you regret knowing me?”

“Tech.” You hissed in final warning. “Now is not the time to make me mad.”

Tech hummed victoriously. “I’m merely gathering evidence to prove my theory.”

“What theory?”

“Why the right choice is to move on.” Tech chuckled as he gently started to sway with you. “Though you will find it difficult to forget my extraordinary mind.”

His quips, his humorous arrogance, tugged at your heart, making your lip quiver. Tech slowed for a moment, his gaze searching your face, unsure if you were on the brink of tears or laughter.

You expected a laugh to taste of ash, but when it came, it didn’t feel so wrong. “How could I ever forget?”

Tech’s eyes widened as he watched a smile spread across your lips. The sight seemed to delight him, a glimmer of his affectionate pride shining through.

He considered asking you to linger; he knew he’d never tire of your company. He’d be content to spend eternity with you. Yet, as he began to sway with you once more, a different thought took precedence.

He cleared his throat and said, “Then it is obvious. Remember me if you want, but you must carry on.” He ducked closer, resting his forehead on yours. "But I quite like the idea of you smiling whenever you think of me, for the rest of your life."

Tech brushed his lips against yours before pressing in with a kiss. 

You felt a tremor in your hand, but his steady grip stilled you. “Tech, I’ve missed you so much.”

"I know, and I you," he replied. "But death is a part of life, an unavoidable end. And my end…” Tech sighed and continued. “Was my choice." 

He pulled away, his hands shifting to your shoulders. “Now, you have a choice.”

You touched his hands, attempting a wobbly smile. “What would I do without you?”

Tech gazed into your eyes, his expression resolved. "You will live," he said. "You'll thrive, because that's what you do now. You adapt, you overcome."

He paused, a smile tingling at the corners of his mouth. "Make new memories, ones that I'd be proud to be a part of in spirit. Remember me often."

His touch lingered a moment longer before he slowly stepped back, "And since I am not going anywhere.” He adjusted his goggles and smirked. “It falls to you to keep the others safe, they certainly need it.” 

With a final nod, Tech turned slightly, indicating that your time together was nearing its natural conclusion, not because he was vanishing, but because you were ready. "You’re more capable than you realize. Trust in that. And when you need to, trust that I'm still here, in the memories you carry and the decisions you make."

He tipped two fingers at you. In a final quip he said, “But do remember me often.”

[megamindsecretlair]

Mr. Black, Part 6

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and fem receiving) , spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, mentions of female anatomy, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre has an unexpected surprise for you that leads to even more conversations about...whatever the hell this is between you. You do end up loving the surprise and you get a bigger peak inside that gorgeous head of his.

Word Count: 10,614k

A/N: I promise not all of my fics will be this long moving forward! This was the most self-indulgent fic I've ever written and it healed something in me LOL. As an update, I had Covid this past week and I'm just getting my strength back. Please be kinder to your faves! I am over the moon that you enjoy my works and look forward to the next chapter, but let's keep it cute. My family are my opps and do not like to see me happy. If ya'll only knew what I had to endure writing this...These updates will take time. And I'm doing this for free! This is a hobby! I'm not a smut machine. Let's stay mindful of that. To prove you actually read this far, put your fave fruit in the comments! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

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The week between Christmas and New Year’s was a lawless haze spent mostly in Tre’s bed. You hadn’t seen your place all week and it should bother you. There was no mention of it. There was no conversation to be had. He just kept inviting you back to his place and you kept saying yes. 

He got you a hygiene kit complete with a Coach bag to put it in. You told him you could just pack something from your place, but he wouldn’t hear of it. You had your very own electric toothbrush sitting on his sink.

Every time you went to the bathroom, you stared at the thing as if it could come alive at any moment. It was a courtesy thing, nothing more. It didn’t mean you were moving in. You were quickly realizing that Tre might’ve lacked proper social skills. With all his big talk, he lacked the cues necessary to clue you into whatever the fuck was going on with him. 

He couldn’t possibly think that he could get you a hygiene kit, keep pajamas over - not that you used them much - and you would just smile and wave and move into his fucking house?! 

The past week, he had kept you in a near-permanent sex fog. He still ate you out at work, stating that he simply liked the taste of you on his tongue while he dealt with the company hemorrhaging money at an alarming rate. He told you that your sweet taste made dealing with idiot managers worth every solid minute.  

He still had you suck him off in the morning, stating that he loved nothing more than pumping you full of him to start your day. He was able to work harder and smarter with empty balls and thoughts of what he was going to do to you later at his place. 

There wasn’t enough time to really talk. There was this burning obsession with each other that didn’t seem to let up as the week went on. Every time you finished having sex, you wanted to crawl under his skin and do it all over again. You couldn’t get him out of your system. In between sex marathons, him cooking, and your conversations about interests, there wasn’t enough time to discuss the whole…headband situation. 

You sat at your desk presently and your eyes kept flickering towards the front of the building. You couldn’t see much past the desks and chairs. The thought of Miss Headband returning made you ill. You were comfortable with the knowledge that Tre was yours in whatever capacity this was, but uncomfortable that Brianna thought she could walk in whenever she wanted.

What stopped any of his other conquests from walking through the door? Or calling you to set up dick appointments with him? You hadn’t been working for him long but you wouldn't be surprised if he had past assistants schedule such things. 

Your nails tapped on your desk. Your jealousy was showing. And it didn’t suit you well to show it at work where anyone could see. You needed to put an end to the uncertainty. If Tre had a black book, he needed to burn it right this second. He wasn’t going to need it anymore. 

Panic was a funny thing. Sometimes, it felt like a bubbling pot of oil sludging through your veins. Sometimes, it felt like a thousand tiny insects with wings fluttering beneath your skin. You felt a mixture of both as you checked your mental status.

Maybe Tre was rubbing off on you too much. Your friends had said you were turning distant lately. You usually told them everything, but how did you even begin to describe what the hell this was? 

It started off as something hot and naughty between you and your boss. Everyone had that fantasy right? Being railed against an office desk until your eyes were crossing and you were screaming in pleasure? 

All your life, you thought there was a schedule and order to these things. You meet a man, you go on a few dates, you explore interests together, and you date some more. You meet the friends and get their stamp of approval. Then it’s the family’s turn. You move in with each other to see if you could cohabit a space together. Perhaps get an animal together to see if you can take care of a living thing as a  precursor to kids. Then, there’s some wholly romantic and unique proposal with the help of your friends or family. A wedding, a honeymoon, boom, pop out some kids and build a life together. 

This was so fuckin’ backwards, you  didn’t know where to start besides him swatting your ass. There have been no dates, just earth-shattering, world-ending orgasms, a few items at his place, and you left in a perpetual state of what-the-fuck? 

Order and schedules made sense to you. It kept you on track. This…was messy as hell. 

You sighed audibly and rubbed your head. It was too much thinking and it was giving you a fuckin’ headache. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You yelped and jumped in your seat. The chair went rolling to the left as you looked to the right to see Tre half sitting on your desk. Where the fuck did he come from?

“You scared the hell outta me!” You placed your hand against your chest to see how fast it was going. 

“Maybe you should stop daydreaming at work,” he said with that damn smirk on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t daydreaming, I was thinking,” you told him.

He sighed audibly and hung his head. “Nothing good ever comes from you overthinking,” he said.

“Shut up. It’s not overthinking. Logic calms me down,” you said.

His smirk returned. “I can think of something else that’ll calm you down,” he said.

“Shh!” You looked around the empty office. It was lunchtime and sunny outside, so everyone went out to the food trucks to take advantage of the warm weather. Still, you had to be cautious from anyone who might overhear. 

You moved to stand up but Tre blocked your path. “Not hungry?” You asked.

Tre smiled and looked off into the distance. He took a few steadying breaths and looked back at you. “Got you on a schedule already,” he said.

Now it was your turn to look away with a goofy grin on your face. His words brought to mind something Brianna mentioned. 

“Hey, what did Brianna mean by 'training me’?” You asked.

“I’ll explain all that. First, let’s go. We’re gonna be late,” he said. 

“Late for what?” You asked. You turned to your computer, bringing up his schedule. The weekend had been blocked out without you noticing. He had no meetings or calls set up. “What is this?” 

You clicked through the change history but Tre put his hand over yours to stop you. “It’s okay, I handled it.” 

“Handled it? I’m the one that handles your schedule! When did you do this?” You asked. You literally had one job and you were too distracted this week to notice that he had been shuffling and moving things around. 

You tried to picture him being sneaky and dealing with other assistants while he moved meetings. You pictured getting a random call from someone with a voice like his. A voice made for phone sex and your panties were already growing damp thinking about it. Yeah, he could finagle his way through just about anything if he had half a mind. 

“Come on!” He grinned and pulled you from your seat. You had just enough time to grab your purse. He held your hand as he pulled you through the empty office. Panic jumbled your nerves. Instead of pulling you to the front of the building where the food trucks were, he pulled you to the back of the building.

You knew there was a back of the building, conceptually, but you didn’t know there was an entrance this way. You were hired in the mix of things and you didn’t get an official tour before diving in and picking up the slack. 

There was nobody back here as he swiped his badge and you were let out into a parking lot. It was small, filled with only a few expensive cars. 

“You have a private parking area? Ya’ll suck,” you giggled. 

Tre tugged you towards his car. You weren’t good with car brands but you were pretty sure it was a Lexus SUV. He opened the door for you and motioned for you to get in. 

“What about my car?” You asked.

“I took care of it,” he said with that damn smile. 

“What the hell is going on?” You asked. You placed your hands on your hips and faced him completely. 

Instead of answering, Tre looked at his watch. “You have about two minutes before the other managers pull in and see you hopping in my car. I’m sure they will have thoughts about it,” he said.

Your fear of being discovered was greater than your need for knowledge. You could needle him in the car. You hopped inside with his help and then he closed the door with instructions to put your seatbelt on. You rolled your eyes and did it, not because he said so, but because it was sensible. 

Tre rounded the front of the black truck and hopped in himself. He sighed with a smug smile on his face and started the car. His windows were tinted well past the legal limit. But you had a feeling he just didn’t give a shit. 

He pulled out of the parking lot just as a smaller sedan was pulling in. You sank down in the seat but Tre only chuckled at you. Clear of the parking lot, he swiftly pulled onto the freeway.

“Okay, I’m in the car. What the hell is going on?” 

“You know, you’re cute as hell when you’re confused. You get a little crinkle in your nose,” he said. He sped up on the mostly clear freeway and you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You’re not going to tell me no matter how many times I ask, huh?” You asked.

He grinned and flicked his eyes to you. “Look at you catching on,” he said.

You growled and folded your arms across your chest. You turned away from him as much as you could in the seat and looked outside the window at the passing cars and freeway signs. You could tell that you were heading North but anything could be North. 

“I promise you’ll like the surprise,” he said.

“I don’t like not knowing what’s going on,” you said.

“I know. I’ll break you of that,” he said.

“Excuse me?” You flipped your head to look at him but he kept his eyes trained on the road. One hand was on the steering wheel and he slowly inched his other hand towards your thigh. He squeezed the bare skin, his pinkie lightly grazing your pink dress. 

You hated that your body reacted instantly. Your pussy fluttered and you were going to be damp in a minute thinking about that hand and all the nasty things he’s done so far. 

“I don’t repeat myself,” he said. 

You could be petty and point out that he’s repeated some things to you. But if he wanted to keep up his little fantasy, you weren’t going to cure him of it. As much as you liked to test his boundaries, you still had handprints on your ass from the last time you tried to get cute. 

You focused on just being able to breathe while his thumb rubbed your left thigh. Soft music played in the car, low enough to not be annoying, but high enough to get the general rhythm. 

The sights turned more industrial as you headed towards…LAX? Was he taking you to the fucking airport? 

He got off the ramp for it, circling around, and headed towards the entrance on Century. He joined the congested traffic as he took the ramp to departures. 

You huffed in disbelief. “You have to be joking. Where are we going? I haven’t packed, I haven’t got any supplies, I haven’t told anyone. I can’t–” 

“I had a lovely chat with your friend, Ka’ron, the other day. She’s a little mad you didn’t tell her about me. I’ll admit, I was a little hurt too,” he said. He talked as he maneuvered around the insane traffic at LAX. It was like people lost all sense of decorum at the airport. People weaved in and out with little regard to who was behind or beside them. They had no idea which terminal to get to or realize that they couldn’t park at the curb forever.

Buses and shuttles ran through the inner road of the airport. You still hated that they changed the flow of traffic. It seemed much more dangerous to have you stand at the outer curb to be picked up. And the construction for the incoming train was plain annoying. 

“You talked to Ka’ron?!” You screeched. Too many questions flowed through your head. How did he get her number? What did he even tell her? What the hell was this? 

“I told her that I wanted to surprise you with a trip and after she got done laughing at the surprise part, she helped me pack your bags this week.” 

Your eyes bugged out of your head. Your friend was going to murder you. After she got done begging for every last scrap of detail she could get out of you, she was going to murder you for not telling her sooner. 

“You have crossed so many–” 

“I also bought you new travel bags. I didn’t care that they didn’t match, but they were really raggedy,” he said. He pulled into long-term parking, grabbing a ticket from the kiosk, and the metal arm raised. He pulled in and began the search for a good spot. 

Gurgles of sounds escaped your throat but you couldn’t form a single sentence. Were you having a heart attack? Aneurysm? Were your blood vessels popping at this very instant? 

“She helped me find your passport,” he said. He turned and backed into the parking space.

In the middle of your meltdown, you could appreciate the slip of skin at his neck as he looked backwards to park. It was somehow hotter that he didn’t solely rely on the back-up camera. You’d dreamt of that open collar enough times to call yourself a stalker at this point. 

“Passport?!” Where the hell was he taking you? You weren’t going to say no to a free fucking trip. You weren’t that dumb. It was…the lack of consideration that bugged you. The fact that he’d been planning and plotting while he had you twisted up in all kinds of shapes no human body was meant to be contorted into. 

Or perhaps…it was a control thing. You were without an anchor or foothold in this. You didn’t see this coming at all. You had no say over where you were going, when you were leaving, when your friends would know about him, what they would know about him, what you would wear, or do. It was beyond unnerving. 

Tre shut off the car and got out, leaving no room for you to ask a thousand questions. You were still in your office attire for fuck’s sake? Not the most comfortable traveling outfit. There was no way in hell you were going through TSA in fucking heels. 

He rounded the car and opened your door for you, letting you out with a smug wink. He really didn’t see anything wrong with whisking you off to some exotic place without a conversation first. Had there been even a tiny ounce of communication beforehand, you wouldn’t be quite so shocked and pissed. 

Next, Tre went to the trunk and lifted the door, pulling out a rose gold London Fog suitcase and a complementary Coach duffle bag. Your mouth dropped open. It was so gorgeous, you drooled a bit as he pulled out his own black suitcase and duffle bag. He moved both to the side and then handed you a more personal bag.

“Move your things from your purse to that. We’ll put your purse in the trunk,” he said. You stared at him like he was some alien with four heads. 

He smiled and stepped closer to you, pulling you by the hips flush against him. You refused to give him any indication that this shit was okay. But he kissed your forehead, then your cheek, and pecked your lips. 

“Trust me. It’ll be good,” he said. 

You pressed your lips together and decided to surrender for the time being. Your boss…lover…boyfriend…was taking you somewhere and you didn’t have to lift a finger. There were worse arguments to be had. 

The personal bag looked like a smaller version of the duffle. You ran your hands over the soft fabric filled with tiny C’s and then opened it. Inside, there was your Kindle, various meds you may need, head scarf, sleep mask, and ear pods. There was also a brand new matching wallet that you transferred your ID and cards to. This whole thing was absurd but you let yourself enjoy it. 

Once done, he took your purse and placed it in the trunk in an innocuous box and closed it. “We’ll change in the lounge,” he said.

Your eyes bugged out again but he wasn’t going to answer a single fucking question so you let him grab your bags and walked over to the bridge connecting you to the terminal. There, he wheeled your bags to the check in counter. He pulled out both of your passports and handed them over to the agent.

She was an attractive Black woman with her hair pulled into a bun. She openly ogled your man so you moved next to him and peered over his shoulder. “Make sure I have the window seat, baby. You know I like to look outside when we take off,” you said and grinned at him, not looking at the woman at all.

Tre smirked down at you. He placed his hand on the small of your back and leaned down to kiss your cheek and then whispered in your ear. “You’re so sexy when you’re jealous.” 

The woman cleared her throat and finished taking the necessary steps to check in your suitcases with a much better, more professional attitude. You made sure to smile and thank her while he grabbed your duffle bags and personal bag from the counter. He scooped up your passports and tickets and tucked them into his bag. Then, he grabbed your hand and you moved on to the security line.

Getting through that was a headache all on its own, but once through, Tre pulled you towards a lounge. You knew they existed, you just never had the luxury of being inside one. It was quiet with muted lighting and a bar area where people sat for drinks and the latest game on TV. 

As he said, there were bathrooms and he told you there was a travel outfit in your bag. You stood in the fancy bathroom, half-giggling like a madwoman as you changed out of your dress into more comfortable clothing. You now had on black leggings, tennis shoes, a loose gray shirt, and a light gray sweater. That had been most of the bulk in your duffle, so you had room to fold up your dress. The heels were a bit of a problem, but that was okay. If they got messed up, you were making him buy you a new pair. And you’d only feel slightly guilty about it. 

After dressing, you went out into the lounge area. You skipped over Tre twice, not because you didn’t recognize him, but because you were surprised to see him outside of formal wear. Sure, you’d seen him lounge at home in his briefs, or the pajamas he wore to cook, but you had never seen him out and about in his element.

He wore black, of course, but it was a black Henley T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black jeans, black boots, and his glasses. He looked good enough to fucking eat and you had to stop just outside the door to admire how hot he was.

He was looking down at his phone so he hadn’t seen you walk out. But as if you were linked, he looked up at that moment and grinned. You walked over to the bar area and he grabbed your bags from you.

He grabbed your hands and opened them so he could take in your outfit. “You look so fucking gorgeous,” he said. 

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” you said. 

He held out the bar stool for you and helped you settle in. There was already a strawberry margarita sitting there for you and you sipped it, letting the frozen treat relax you. “Our plane leaves in an hour so you have time to finish,” he said.

“Any hint to where we’re going?” You asked.

He shrugged and sipped on his whiskey. “You’ll see at the gate,” he said.

“The only thing you can’t hide from me,” you said.

He grinned. “I could if I really wanted to. Make you wear your earphones the whole trip.” 

“I can see the board,” you said. 

“Not if I didn’t want you to,” he said.

You threw up your hands. “You know how insane this is right? Calling my friend, planning this behind my back, ambushing me in the middle of the work day? Where do people think you are?” 

“I am on my way to a conference for potential clients. Since I’m such an awesome boss, I gave you the weekend to spend with your family,” he said.

“No one’s going to buy that,” you said with a giggle. You wouldn’t buy that shit if you heard it. 

“They have no proof to the contrary. I know my methods are off, but I know a few ways you can thank me on the plane. I always wanted to join the mile high club,” he said and eyed your outfit. “Maybe we should’ve gone with something easier to take off.”

You slapped his thick arm. “Not on your life,” you said. The tips of your ears burned just thinking of it. Those tiny ass bathrooms ensured there was no way two people could fit. And you were not sucking him off in first class. He was too damn big for any other seating. 

He chuckled and sipped more of his drink. You talked more with him pointedly ignoring your questions until he looked at his watch. He grinned, that wide smile melting your insides, as he grabbed your things and took your hand.

The casual way he touched you, openly, in the airport where everyone was anonymous was a balm to your spirit. You didn’t know you needed this…validation of the two of you. You didn’t care what people thought of you to the extent that you were together. You were more concerned about office politics. If you wanted to be taken seriously, you couldn’t let the office gossips think you were sleeping your way to the top. 

Out in the open like this, you felt excited to be the one holding his hand while he guided you through the chaos of the airport. He walked leisurely to your gate. You frantically searched the boards for destinations. These were all domestic flights to the East Coast. Atlanta, New York, Chicago…

He stopped at a gate going to Miami. You eyed him as he took up a place near the gate. They were beginning to call for your group. 

“Now boarding first class to Jamaica, with a stop in Miami. Now boarding…” 

“Jamaica?!” You whispered to him and he grinned down at you. 

He squeezed your hand as he moved you in line, handing the agent your tickets, and then pulling you down the tunnel. You had no room to talk as he placed your bags in the overhead bin and you settled into the nicer seats in first class. For once, your big ass fit comfortably in the seat with enough foot room to swing your feet. 

Shit, after flying like this, you might have to do it all the time and leave your friends in economy. You were all going to the same place, you didn’t have to sit next to each other. The flight attendant asked if you wanted a drink as more people got onboard. You accepted a tequila neat and settled into your seat, wiping everything down with cleanser wipes you found in your personal bag. Your girl really fucking knew you.

“Bougie looks good on you,” he said as he watched you. 

“Shut up! I’m gonna enjoy the fuck out of this. When are we coming back?” You asked.

“Tuesday night,” he said. 

You couldn’t help looking outside, looking at the people who passed. You didn’t want to contain your excitement. As the boarding ended and the plane began to taxi down the runway, Tre settled in his seat and tapped your arm to get your attention.

“Why haven’t you told your friends about us?” He asked.

He wanted to discuss that now? “And say what? ‘Hey guys, what’s new with me? Well, my boss has been blowing my back out for the past few weeks?’” You whispered so everybody in first class wouldn’t hear your business.

He scrunched up his face. “It’s not official until your friends know. And I’m not just your boss,” he said. 

You threw up your hands. “What else am I supposed to call you?” 

“Your boyfriend?” Tre asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Boyfriend! That’s what you are?” You asked. 

The captain started speaking about preparing for liftoff, so you were spared a few moments as the flight attendants came around to collect trash and remind you about the trays. 

The plane took off and Tre never stopped looking at you. As it ascended, he leaned in so he could be heard over the roar of the engines and mounting pressure. 

“That’s exactly what I am. And I want you to tell them about me,” he said. 

You looked at him. He was serious about this shit. You didn't know what to say or what to call him. You guessed it was the logical step after declaring “you’re mine” while hopping on his dick. You licked your lips and nodded. “You’re my boyfriend. I’ll tell them when we land,” you said. 

He smiled and sat back in his seat as if it had been eating at him. The tension left his shoulders. When the plane leveled out, the flight attendants came around with warm peanuts and drinks. You got some water to balance the drinks you’d had. 

The plane ride to Miami was comfortable now that Tre decided to relax. You were able to joke with him about the book he chose to read while you whipped out your Kindle and awkwardly told him about the filthy book you were reading. You had a brief layover once you got to Miami. You collected shot glasses for your friends. 

The plane ride to Jamaica was smooth. You were flying into the night but the sight as you descended still stole your breath. The water was a mix of cerulean and true blue, with scores of seaweed you could see from the plane. The island didn’t look all that big flying overhead, but the hills were wide and varied in height. 

The plane had to turn to land into the small ass runway and you were half concerned as the captain easily guided the plane onto it. You rolled into the gate and Tre helped bring your bags down. 

The airport itself smelled like Shea butter and breezy sandy beaches and you inhaled deeply. You had traveled all over the world at this point with your girls. Hitting up spots in Europe and Mexico, but there was something so amazing about landing in a place with people that looked like you.

Everywhere you went, there was another Black face to greet you. There were fans up high blowing hot wind at you but to you, it was perfect. As you got off the plane, there was a man standing there with Tre’s name. He walked you past the long line to the left for regular people.

That line was long and looked unbearably hot as people stood there trying to get through customs. You assumed the young man was a driver with his company shirt and shorts on. You never saw anything like it. He guided you through the lane to the right, going down a ramp, and turning into a much shorter customs line. The agent at the gate checked in your passports, stamping them, asking routine questions.

Through, the driver stood off to the side while you waited for the bags. There were gorgeous Jamaican women with red outfits on helping people find their carousel and telling you to settle in for a long wait because they were slow. 

The accents were the best part. It sounded like coming home. A deep, ancient knowing made you feel at home here than you ever did in the States. Tre grabbed your bags from the carousel since they came out among the first bags. The driver took it from him and led you out of the busy airport.

There were just…Black people everywhere. For once, you didn’t feel like an oddball out when you traveled. Seeing Black faces was the norm. The driver took you through the final screening, handing over a form Tre filled out while on the plane. Then, you were out of the baggage claim area where even more people congregated. Bus drivers were trying to find people to scoop up, taxi drivers did the same, and there were so many guides waving signs for tours.

Outside, the air was balmy but comfortable and the driver led you to his car. There was nothing fancy about it, but you climbed in all the same while Tre talked with him. Then you were off.

You had to keep pinching yourself. Jamaica was gorgeous. The rolling grassy hills were interrupted by pockets of communities. You passed by signs of colonization. Plazas, houses, Popeyes. You giggled and pointed it out to Tre who just smiled like you were the most adorable thing on the planet.

It still blew your mind that he wanted to be your boyfriend. It seemed so high school the way you felt about it. But it felt right so you decided to go with the flow. By the time you made it to the adults only resort, you were absolutely tired. Tre told you to sit in the waiting area while he handled everything. 

In no time, you were showering in your suite still pinching yourself that this was actually happening. You had dinner, buffet style, and enjoyed part of that evening’s entertainment. There was live music and a dancing troupe that you half paid attention to. Now, you just wanted to crawl into bed but you still had so many questions.

You let Tre see your text message as you texted your friends that you arrived safely with your boyfriend. You had landed and your phone dinged immediately upon turning on. Ka’ron told your entire friend group that not only were you getting regular dick, you had been whisked away on a fancy trip on some real movie type shit. 

But Tre didn’t look satisfied with what you said. So you made him take a photo with you with the amazing view in the background. You confirmed that he was a sex god and you would give all the nasty details when you got back. He was much happier about the photo and asked you to send it to him. 

He was so…domestic and it was freaking you the fuck out. You didn’t have the energy to bombard him with millions of questions. He tucked you into bed and then you were drifting off to sleep, trying to remember everything you wanted to ask him. 

The next day, after breakfast, you took a look around the resort and everything it had to offer. There were multiple pools and a small beach area where you could go and relax. The resort had towels and pool equipment for you, but it was tied to your room number. If you didn’t return it when you were done, then it would be charged to your room. 

Ka’ron didn’t steer you wrong with the outfits she chose for the trip. All light, lounge wear that fit easily over skimpy bathing suits your friends made you buy. You had no intention of actually wearing them. But that was all she packed and the look on Tre’s face was worth it.

He was content to walk around like everything was fine, but your questions were burning you from the inside out. Worse than the damn sun. This was their milder season so you knew it could have been much, much worse. But the UV index was much higher so you stayed spraying on your sunscreen. 

You held hands and stopped at some of the gift shop areas spread around. There was an ice cream shop that sold coffee and meat pies. You got ice cream while Tre went for coffee. But his entire focus was on you licking your spoon.

You began to do it deliberately slowly, licking every inch. You put the end in your mouth and slowly withdrew it while keeping your eyes on him. Your body heated up from the way his eyes were trained on your lips. He caught every movement and swipe of your tongue across your lips to lick it up.

Tre grabbed your ice cream cup and threw it away. “Hey! I wasn’t finished!” You complained.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he said. The ice cream was “free” due to the all-inclusiveness of the resort package but you weren’t going to split hairs. Here, you and Tre were always on the same page. 

Your body responded to him like it had never done in the past with previous lovers. You felt him on a cellular level as your swimsuit grew damp from your arousal. He pulled you to the elevator and your room, barely opening the door before pulling you inside and slamming you up against the door. 

His lips crashed into yours, desperate and needy. Moans escaped you even as his beard tickled your face. You just wanted more. You pulled at his shirt and pants, undressing him just as he undressed you. He turned you around, pressing your chest against the door. He kissed your neck as he untied your top and lowered your bottoms. 

Your chest was still pressed to the door so your top didn’t fall just yet. Tre’s warm hand on your back prevented you from moving. He stepped closer and you felt the heat of his chest scald your back.

You trembled in the doorway. You wanted to see him and touch him too. But he only slipped his right hand around your hips to spread your pussy lips apart. You hissed as his fingers connected with your clit.

You felt him smile against your neck. “Already wet for me, little one?” 

Your head thumped against the door as he worked your wetness around your clit, diving into your pussy to gather more of your arousal and spread it around. He toyed with your clit, rolling around his fingers, and flicking it just the way you liked.

“Oh, shit, Sir,” you moaned against the door. Your cheek was pressed against it as he rubbed his erection against your ass. He nibbled on your ear, licking away any hints of pain. His left hand came up to grab your titty. He finally let the fabric fall as he pinched and rolled your nipple in time with his fingers on your clit.

“I want the neighbors next door to hear you screaming and call the front desk,” he whispered in your ear. 

Pinpricks of arousal traveled up and down your body. You could barely stay standing as that particular image flashed in your mind. “I want you to explain that it was just some enthusiastic play time and nothing to be concerned about.”

Your moans were pathetic and whiny as you raised up on tip toes trying to escape his fingers. But he only pressed into you further, pressing you against the cold door. You scratched at the wooden door. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to help you as you cried out and the orgasm ripped through you like a thunderstorm. You were whipped about in a frenzy as the power of it stole your breath away. 

You cried as you calmed down. Tre withdrew his fingers and panted against your neck as if he had just gotten done fucking you. He audibly smacked his lips as he tasted you on his fingers and moaned as he licked every last digit. 

He roughly turned you again, slamming his lips against yours in a brutal kiss. You took control, kissing him and pushing at his shoulders. He raised an eyebrow at you as you dropped to your knees.

His dick twitched as you palmed him, running your fingers over him once before opening your mouth and sucking him inside. You licked him just like you did that ice cream spoon. Slowly and sensually and maintaining eye contact. He groaned, licked his lips.

“Oh, that’s how we doing it?” He asked. He sat back against the wall and you adjusted with him. Then you continued teasing him and sucking him into your mouth. You played with his balls and he moaned low in his throat. You rolled them with one hand while keeping your other hand braced against his thigh.

You licked him, running your tongue across his tip. “Mm, suck me down,” he said. But you ignored him, continuing to kiss your way up and down his shaft. He chuckles were stuttered and he shook his head.

“I’ll remember this when it’s your turn,” he promised darkly. You knew he was going to pay you back when you started teasing him. But you just liked the sound of him moaning for you even more. You sucked him all the way down, trying to fit as much of him in your mouth as you could. Then you started sucking on him like he liked. Rough, bruising, bullying your mouth with his dick.

“Unf, that’s it. That’s it right there,” he coached while he threw his head back and groaned. He released himself and you swallowed every drop. He took a few deep breaths before picking you up and bringing you to the bed. He spread your legs apart and looked his fill at your dripping pussy. 

“Wait! Fuck!” You didn’t need a break but you did need a tiny breather. You had been out in the sun all day walking and enjoying the day. But the feral gleam in that man’s eyes had you slightly worried that you were in danger.

“Tre,” you said, trying to get a handle on yourself. It wasn’t normal to want to throw common sense through the window and have him fuck your brains out. Right? 

“The fuck did you just call me?” He asked. His deep, rough voice turned even darker as his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. He slapped your pussy and you reared up, trying to scoot away from him.

He slapped it a few more times, each one stinging more than the last. The sting gave way to a burning coil of heat that had you moaning and moving your hips for more. You hated that he turned you into exactly what you didn’t want to be, a sex doll. Well, hell, there were worse things to be while underneath him. 

You stammered as you tried to think past the unbridled lust and need. 

“What’s my name?” He asked. He landed another smack against your pussy. You only grew more wet. The wet slaps were getting louder and filthier and he noticed. He didn’t wait long for you to respond before continuing to slap at your pussy until your legs were shaking.

“S-Sir,” you moaned. 

“What is it?” He asked. He tilted his head and you looked at him through that sex fog you’d grown accustomed to this past week. You could barely think of your answer, let alone make your mouth move, as he slammed two fingers inside you. 

“Oh fuck!” You moaned. Your hands gripped and let go of the sheets around you on the king sized bed. He pumped the fingers in and out of you, moving them around to feel every inch of your soaked walls. You moaned and whined, your needy sounds somehow turning you on even more. 

“What’s my name, little one?” You asked. 

“Sir! Sir!” You yelled out, cried out, in time for your orgasm to kick in, making you shiver in time with the frost from the AC. You shook, out of control, thighs trembling and knees buckling. If you were standing, you’d have collapsed to the floor. 

Tre scooted in, making sure your legs couldn’t close. “Remember our safe word?” 

You nodded dumbly. “Candy cane,” you muttered.

He dropped his head to your belly, placing soft kisses there. “Only you can turn me into a fucking animal,” he whispered against your skin. You giggled as he continued to attack your plump belly with kisses. 

He licked the swell of your breasts and moaned at your taste. You reached out and grabbed his dick, played with the precum between your bodies. He moaned and ground his hips into you, rocking with every swipe. You flicked your thumb across the tip, flicking all that pre against the tip of his dick. He sighed and groaned under your touch, latching on to your nipple and suckling you.

It began to dry up so he pulled away and dropped to his knees. “Please, Sir. I need you,” you said.

He took off his glasses and tossed them onto the bed. You grabbed them and placed them on your chest to keep them safe. There was a bite of cold from the metal but it quickly warmed. You didn’t want to get lost gripping the white sheets in desperation and accidentally crush them. Tre watched the movement and his eyes turned darker still, a thousand yard stare entering his gaze. 

Sweat gathered at his brow, rolling down the side of his sweet ebony skin and sliding into his beard. His breathing was erratic as he lowered against your pussy lips and drew your legs over his shoulders. 

His fingers dug into a deep massage of the back of your thighs as he nosed through your wet slit. You bit your lip and gyrated your hips, unable to control yourself from moving. He suckled one of your pussy lips into his mouth, pulling to the point of pain and you cried out. 

You had no idea how you were going to survive another one but you weren’t going to tap out. You needed him just as badly as he needed you. Needed this. This was the only time you felt like you were on the same page. The only time you felt connected, mind to mind. 

He moaned, inhaling your scent and swiping his tongue out. You were still so sensitive from your earlier orgasms that you twitched with every pass. The massage on your thighs already had your back arching off of the bed, but when he finally dived in and wrapped his sexy lips around your clit, you were crying out and clutching his head. 

“Oh shit!” You moaned. This was different. This was him trying to prove something. Or earn something. He suckled on you, hard, pulling waves of pleasure from you and making you whine and groan and scream to the sky. Perhaps he would get his wish and the front desk would be calling you any minute, asking if everything was okay.

No, everything was not fucking okay. You were getting the life sucked out of you and it was bordering on painful. It felt too fucking good as he licked and moaned his way in between your legs. His tongue speared in and out of you, mimicking how he was going to fuck you. One of his hands disappeared from your thighs and you felt him groan and tug on himself. 

“That’s my job, you know,” you managed to breathe out.

He huffed against your pussy, rolling his tongue around your clit in small, tight circles that made your eyes cross. His tugs grew rougher and you panted to get enough oxygen to form a thought.

“That’s mine,” you said before succumbing to another orgasm. This was brutal and unforgiving. It blinded and deafened you. Sweat gathered everywhere. Pooled in the crevices of your skin. Your thighs locked his head in and he kept going, kept working his jaw to wring every last bit of it out of you. 

Your knuckles hurt from clutching the sheets so hard as you came and came, wave upon wave of pleasure soaking the sheets beneath you. Tre licked up everything you gushed out. You twitched with every pass, too overstimulated. 

Your cry was small and weak and he finally stopped, kissing up your thighs and over your belly. His hands roamed your body, touching every inch he could. He rubbed feeling back into your limbs, anchoring you in place and bringing you back to the world of the living. 

Your essence dripped nastily from his beard and he swiped a hand down to work it in. “I like when you get possessive. You said this was yours?” Tre stood over you, peering down at you. He tugged on his thick erection and it jerked as you struggled to your elbows to hold yourself up. 

It looked fucking painful the way it strained away from him, veiny, and begging for you. You licked your lips. Fuck, you wanted to taste him. Wanted him to feel just as good as he made you. 

“Mine,” you huffed out. 

He swiped his hand through your slopping juices and coated his dick with it, rubbing himself and groaning as he looked into your eyes. “One day, I’ma paint your belly with my cum and see how many paintings I can make.” 

Your pussy clenched sharply and you moaned at the mental image. You needed him to do that, like right now. Something on your face made him grin and huff a laugh. He gripped your legs and tugged you closer, ass half-hanging off the bed. 

“I like the idea of stuffing you more. Fucking my cum into you and painting your insides with everything I can give you,” his rubbed the top of your thighs and your hips. His hands were always deliciously callused and it worked at turning your body into jelly. 

“I want everything,” you said. You gave him puppy eyes as your voice turned soft and girly, small with need. 

His hand went to your face as he leaned over you. Your sweaty bodies rubbed together and you moaned, pulling him closer by his hips. He watched you rub against him, grabbing his ass with one hand and pulling him into you.

Your head was deliciously empty. You were operating on basic instinct. You just wanted him inside of you. You just wanted to be connected to him. Claimed by him. He moved his hips, rubbing his fat dick against your folds. You were trying to move him inside of you but he was too big for all of that. He’d have to be guided in. 

“You want this dick, little one?” He asked. 

The pet name was like a dose of dopamine that traveled from your brain to the tips of your toes. It relaxed you further, making you smile goofily at him. 

“I want that dick, Sir,” you moaned. 

He pulled you by the chin for a sweet, tender kiss that made your eyes water. He used his other hand to guide him inside you. That was anything but tender. He shoved inside and your mouth dropped open.

He groaned as he looked at you and began to pump his hips at a fast, punishing pace. You couldn’t breathe. You would probably pass out in a second. Your mouth flopped like a fish as he found a spot deep inside you already. You felt full and connected just like you wanted, getting closer to him every time he was inside you.

“Breathe, little one. I don’t want you passing out on me,” he said against your lips. He kissed you as if to give you the very breath you desperately needed. You gasped and sucked in as much air as you could while he was currently stealing it from your body.

Fuck, you felt electric. On top of the world. You felt like you could do anything now that he was inside you. You rolled your head, unable to choose a position to hold and keep it. He felt too fucking good pumping into you. 

Your arms trembled from trying to hold yourself up but it was important to you to stay like this. Stay close like this. Your head was bent towards his. His lips were pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and cheeks. You returned his sweet kisses so at odds with how he was fucking you.

And make no mistake, this was pure, animalistic fucking. He was rutting inside of you. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Feel so fucking good.” 

You clenched around his dick. His moans made you greedy for more. You felt invincible. Power drunk. You rendered a powerful man like him speechless and sloppy as his hips jerked against you. 

He stopped to adjust himself, lifting one of your legs higher and then he set to work again. You grabbed his forearms and held on, looking into each other’s eyes, as your moans matched. Your face started to contort with a rising orgasm.

“Mhm, let that shit go. Let me feel you flooding this dick. Get that dick wet for me,” he cooed. 

“Sir, Sir,” you moaned. Your nails dug into his arms as you leaned your head back and it finally overtook you. “Ouue, fuuuuck, babbyyy,” you moaned as you came. Your body convulsed on his dick, flooding him just the way he wanted with your slick.

“Fuck, I feel it. Feelin’ that shit,” he groaned. He hung his head as you closed your eyes. Stars exploded behind your eyes. You closed them tightly, trying to survive this. Trying to survive him and his body. 

His own orgasm was ripped from him, soaking you in his cum. You felt it pulsing inside of you, pumping load after load. His hips still snapped inside of you, fucking it even deeper. You held on, your head against the bed and flopping from side to side as you cried and moaned, shaking on his dick.

Tre panted and groaned, his hips slowing down. Fuck, you were definitely going to feel this shit later. He dropped against your shoulder, off to the side and careful to avoid his glasses on your chest. He licked and kissed on your neck as he panted and recovered.

You messily sucked in air. He’d already seen you in a bonnet and shower cap, you were out of dignities to spare. You massaged the back of his neck while he laid there. He groaned, tension leaving his body in visible waves. 

He softened inside of you and slowly pulled out. He leaned back into standing, so he could open your legs and watch his cum spill out. He licked his lips as if he still wanted to play with you but you were both too fucking tired to do anything but huff and look towards the ceiling. 

He flopped beside you, wiping sweat from his brow. You yawned, but he told you not to fall asleep.

Not to fall asleep? How could you not? Your poor vagina was begging you for a break and he wasn’t giving an inch. 

You heard him flittering around the suite. You distantly heard water running and then he was running a warm towel between your legs. You hissed at the contact, the soreness, the desperation finally leaving your bones for the time being.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered as he cleaned you up. He disappeared again and then he was back, picking you up and scooting you further up the bed. Somehow, he produced a tray of fresh fruit and made you sit up to eat and drink the water that was also on the tray.

“Where did this come from?” You asked.

“I sent for it while I was cleaning myself off. I think you dozed off,” he said. He had a proud grin on his face and you rolled your eyes. Yes, yes, we all knew he was a sex god capabale of fucking you to sleep. 

You nodded and opened your mouth while he popped a strawberry in. The fruit was delicious and refreshing after something so intense. The last thing you wanted was to eat or drink. But he pointed out that you needed something besides your light breakfast and ice cream. 

You were sitting against the headboard, letting the coolness ease your feverish skin. Your legs were tucked in and he closed the distance, sitting as close as possible to you while staying in front of you.

“I owe you some answers. But first, I want to say that this was an apology trip and fucking,” he said.

“Apology?” Shit, you really couldn’t think. Your thoughts were…nonexistent. 

“I owe you an apology for not letting Brianna know that we were done. That she couldn’t just walk into the office whenever she felt like anymore. We ran in the same circles and shared the same tastes. I like my women to be a little submissive in the bedroom. Tying them up, controlling their orgasms, the whole bit. That’s what she meant by training. She thought I trained you to call me, Sir.” 

He hadn’t, not really. It was a default to call your bosses Ma’am or Sir or whatever they preferred to be called unless they gave you permission to call them by their name. A holdover from your old school grandparents to teach you manners. Tre terrified you in the beginning, you had honestly been too afraid to call him anything else. 

He told you more about how he usually got with his women. He found that he was into the whole scene life from his time experimenting in college. He didn’t “do” relationships. In every sense of the word, you were his first real relationship. He was so focused on getting things together, he skipped over a dozen or so steps and just wanted you by his side. 

It was…sweet and started to answer a lot of fucking questions about him. 

“I knew that I fucked up with the Brianna thing, I heard how she was speaking to you. We spent the lunch hour talking about how we were over whether she liked it or not. She kept asking what made you so special. And I just kept telling her everything. Everything made you special.” 

Your eyes were starting to tear up so you bit your lip to keep from making them fall. He was being so damn sweet and open, it was tearing you to pieces. 

He looked away, looked down at your legs. His hands idly rubbed your calf as he talked more. “I knew I needed to make it up to you beyond just saying sorry or taking you to dinner. I needed you to know I’m serious,” he said.

You reached out and caressed his cheek, tugging on his beard. “Trust me, I know you’re serious,” you said with a giggle. 

He shook his head. “I know I ambushed you with this. But there’s still so much I don’t know about you. I heard you talking to Ka’ron one day and knew she was the main one to ask about this. When she said she never heard of me, I will admit, that hurt.” 

He said as much back at the airport. You dropped your hand to his, to the one drawing circles on your calf. You squeezed his hand and looked into his open, brown eyes. “I’m not ashamed of you. I didn’t know how to explain it. You’re still my boss,” you said.

“I’m not just your boss,” he said. 

“No, but…sometimes you push forward and there’s never a conversation in between. Like you decide all these things in this…relationship but you don’t tell it to me. You leave ‘me’ out of the relationship and that’s no way to be together. I need that conversation to ground me. I’m not a mind reader.”

“I can’t help it. It feels like I’m always trying to gauge whether you have one foot in or one foot out. I feel like…I have to catch you by surprise,” he said.

That was fair. You had a history of running and being scared. You were constantly running from situations that were too real, too honest. You hated that you weren’t always seen as the “fun, uncomplicated” girlfriend. When guys pushed for more, you were the first out of the door and onto the next one. Over and over, ready to bolt at the first sign of something being real. 

“I am in. I am yours. I am not going anywhere,” you said. “I promise to talk to you first if I ever feel like bolting. But that’s just it! I don’t feel like bolting with you.” 

You still felt panicked sometimes, like you couldn’t breathe with the mounting pressure and knowledge that all of this could come crashing down on your head. That everyone would find out and snicker and laugh you out of the office. That Tre would realize that he was dating someone so far beneath his league, it was laughable. 

“I feel like you’re going to realize we’re not on the same level,” you admitted.

“We’re not. You’re so far out of my league, I don’t know why you’re here,” he said.

You looked at him, waiting for him to laugh or yell, “Gotcha!” It never came. He was fucking serious. The realization made you look at him like he was crazy. 

“Get the fuck out,” you said and shook your head, laughing. 

“I’m very serious,” he said. You felt like you knew him by now. He didn’t “do” humor that much either. He made you laugh and you had fun watching comedy specials together, but for the most part, he was deadly serious. 

“You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. You’re smart, funny, and you can talk about so much shit I never heard about. I feel like I have to shower you with gifts and trips to make you like me,” he said. 

You pushed at his chest. “You’re so full of shit and I’m not falling for it. I’m not after your money!” 

“I know,” he said with that shit-eating grin you’re so fond of. “I check the statements. You haven’t used my card once. What’s up with that?” 

You threw up your hands. “Did Brianna ever get a card?” You asked. You couldn’t look at him while you asked that question. You didn’t want to compare yourself to Lil’ Miss Headband but you needed to know. 

“You are the only one I’ve ever trusted my money to,” he said. He brought your hand to his lips. 

You sighed quietly, loving to hear that. You’d just about die if it turned out that he gave every little woman he slept with a card. 

“Sounds like we’re both harboring shit instead of talking,” you said. 

He nodded. “We promised honesty from here on out, yeah?” He asked.

You nodded, popping a grape into your mouth. “Total honesty. No matter how scared we are or how much it hurts.” 

Tre sucked his teeth and fought you for a piece of cheese. “Ain’t nobody scared,” he said. 

You laughed and called him a liar and continued to talk a few things out. He didn’t mind reassuring you over and over that you were the only one he’d really been with. You still found it hard to believe, you had eyes. 

His ego needed no stroking as he confirmed that there were always women after him but it was hard to tell if they wanted him or his money. He had no problem treating his lady, but when it was expected and not appreciated, it got old fast. You respected it. You’d still have a hard time believing it though. 

You spent the rest of the weekend, much more relaxed that you didn’t have the weight of Brianna hanging over your head. You were able to swim and venture out into Jamaica to a local shopping place with women selling wares. A lot of it was the same thing from stall to stall and you felt bad having to tell a lot of them no. Tre was patient and let you get however many souvenirs you wanted for your friends. 

You spent New Year’s with him inside of you, making you beg for mercy until your voice gave out and your body quaked. You got your kiss at midnight. It was sloppy and wet and perfect. 

Unfortunately, you had to return home to a million calls from your friends and family. Cat was out of the bag officially. You made sure that Tre knew it was all his fault to which he only grinned and asked which house you were visiting first. But now that you were back in sunny California, a pit gnawed in your belly.

You didn’t know how to broach the subject. You had planned to tell him when you weren’t tearing each other’s clothes off last week, but then the trip threw you for a loop. 

He brought you to your place, after you had to practically grab the steering wheel and make him drive you to your place and not his. You made sure he knew that you weren’t trying to leave him, you just had things to check on and he was perfectly capable of coming to your place. Unless he’d spontaneously burst into hives from not sleeping on black sheets. Traveling was a fluke, the rules didn’t apply while on vacation. 

“Oh, we got jokes,” he said and grinned on the way to your place. “I’ll remember that tomorrow.” He kept that evil grin on his face and you shuddered to think of what he had planned while you clenched your thighs together.

At your place, you stopped him from getting out of the car with a hand on his. He looked at you, growing more and more concerned as he looked at your face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I don’t know how to just blurt this out,” you said. Your leg bounced in your seat. Your street was quiet for once, no one outside to distract you.

“Hey, total honesty.” 

You nodded. “I was going to tell you last week but…” You took a deep breath and then closed your eyes. Rip that bandaid off.

“Someone’s stealing a shit ton of money from the company.”

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

[eternalizms]

CLOWN-FISH ↳ SPENCER REID

ﾟ . ． ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ．

WARNINGSꜜ drug use, pot, stoner!spencer, general fluff.

SUMMARYꜜ you come home to a very high, and very clingy spencer after a long week. (wc; 946)

AUTHORS NOTEꜜ i cannot get stoner!spencer out of my head for the life of me, so please enjoy my desperate attempt of putting my ideas into a drabble of sorts! this is my first time writing and posting, so it may not be the best ahh! i understand this isn't for everyone, feel free to send me any reqs!

ﾟ . ． ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ．

THE FIRST TIME spencer tried weed went exactly how you'd expect it to. he was seventeen, halfway through completing his first doctorate in mathematics. the dingy leather couch felt rough against the skin on his hands. he anxiously looked about the room. he felt awkward, and out of place, listening to the music that was playing from a speaker god knows where. for about a month before, spencer had been overwhelmed with a sense that he was missing something in his life. he had decided, after careful calculation, that he was missing a sense of rebellion, that most people his age seemed to have.

spencer was handed the lit joint, he had never smoked before, but it couldn't be that hard. the sweet-ish scent of pot filled the room, his fingers brought it towards his lips as his eyes stayed focused on the joint. he inhaled in, feeling the harsh smoke immediately hit his throat. his face contorted funnily as he spluttered and coughed out, sending a cloud of smoke flying out his mouth. it took him a moment to recover, taking a few deep breaths in between. after collecting himself, he had inhaled another toke, still slightly perplexed at how harsh the smoke is on his throat, but pleased with how being rebellious felt so far.

his shoulders slumped as he leaned back into the sofa, enjoying the high taking over. from that moment on, he was in love. his brain seemed to finally slow, it was a refreshing break. he felt present in the moment for the first time in his life. spencer spent most evening of his weekends in college; stoned. of course, being in the BAU means he doesn't get to enjoy it nearly as much as he used to, but sometimes on an odd week off he rarely gets, he reminds himself of his college days - by getting high.

this was one of these weeks. spencer was slumped against the sofa, a nature documentary about clown-fish buzzing in the background. the key in the door turned with a familiar click, letting him know you're home. you stand in the doorway, a small frown playing on your lips when you realise spencer isn't at the door to greet you like usual. you walk into the living-room with a pout, wondering if he hadn't heard you?. not noticing spencer's current state, you plop yourself down on the sofa beside spencer; sighing with sweet relief as you slid your shoes off.

you notice the silence after a minute, turning your attention towards spencer. you immediately know. with a small chuckle, your hand reaches towards his face, fingertips skimming his jaw as you take him in with your eyes; wishing for his eidetic memory in that moment, so you wouldn't forget it. his hair was slightly out of place, perfectly accompanying the sleepy look across his glossy bloodshot eyes, it was a delicious sight.

your hands find their way to the back of his hair, fingers raking through the curls. he leans into your touch, closing his eyes in content with a low hum. your touch felt addicting to him. clingy was an understatement. he scooted himself closer to you.

"missed you." a light mumble left his lips as he peered towards you , head resting on your shoulder as you sat behind him. spencer's need to just be near you was overwhelming. he sits up, slightly hazed from his high - only difference being the stupid grin on his face. he sat back against the sofa, hands sliding up your thighs as he guides you onto his lap. his head hangs low in the crook of your neck, arms snaking up your torso - simply holding you as close as he possibly can.

spencer inhaled your perfume in with a happy sigh, nuzzling his head into your neck closer. your chest vibrated against him as you laughed ever-so sweetly, hands sliding back into place in his hair. he was in total heaven. your skin felt on fire as his fingers slid past the seam of your shirt, his hands expertly kneading up and down your torso, as spencer held you. he debated telling you a super fun clown-fish fact. he finally pulled his head up. he went to speak, mouth opening; but no words came out.

a light whine left his lips as he watched you laugh, head falling back into the crook of your neck. he struggled to keep up his huff the more you playfully teased him about his IQ now being significantly lower. after a minute, you cooed softly - a single small laugh escaping, pulling him in for a hug.

fortunately, no words were needed as you both settled down for the evening, eager hands grabbing a fluffy white blanket and chucking it over the both of your laps. spencer's inevitable munchies had resulted in a bowl of popcorn sat between you, legs intertwined. his arm draped over your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. every so often his hand would reach into the bowl and grab an outrageously large handful of popcorn; before his best attempt at fitting it all in his mouth. your laugh filled the cosy room, unable to stop staring at the trainwreck currently happening in front of your eyes. you fit in his arm like a puzzle piece, the scent of his cologne mixed with weed emanating off his shirt.

you pay more attention to the nature documentary playing. spencer; now a lot more awake, began telling you the clownfish facts he suddenly remembered again. "clownfish have an average life-span of six to ten years in the wild, they are also all born male.".

ﾟ . ． ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ．

[cultofdixon]

You just know sometimes

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • So much had to happen between Terminus and Alexandria…You in your situation being one of them • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Bruises / Scars / The Claimers & Cannibals Mentioned / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

You failed Daryl Dixon

You fucking failed and people have died because of it

All you were tasked to do was to keep them safe

But yet here you are…and where are they?

Fucking DEAD

Daryl snapped out of his half asleep haze with a small grunt of annoyance which caught Carol’s attention instantly. She didn’t say a word but gave him a concerned look as they were currently holding up camp in the woods after another failed attempt at staying in a neighborhood. If only the herd didn’t come through it.

It was really starting to feel like the nine months before the prison.

When the group returned to the main road, they heard someone or something running in the woods which they obvious drawn their weapons thinking a possible threat. Rick directed with his head for Daryl and Glenn to join him going into the trees to figure out what that could possibly be.

“Glenn you take the right, Daryl left, and I’ll go forward” Rick stated as they instantly acted on such.

They equally gotten far into the woods and Glenn came across nobody, but there was a blood trail that he followed until he ran into Rick. When both were now following the blood trail, Daryl was occupied by some walkers that after taking out the few he came across he noticed the blood that the others have caught on. But the trail stopped at a tree and there’s no foot prints either.

Daryl flinched when he felt acorns fall on his head resulting in him looking up to find a person, a woman holding onto the base of the tree for dear life as the branch she sat on barely supported her.

“Did you find—-“ Daryl held his hand up stopping Rick from saying anymore before pointing upward.

Rick gestured for Glenn to take another angle but she wasn’t much of a threat.

“I-I know you’re t-there. I don’t have anything”

“What makes you think we can trust—-“ Glenn stopped his question when her pack dropped to their feet. He knelt down looking further into it finding only a lighter and what looks like a shiv because she has no weapon. She probably had to get creative with walkers. Then the obvious. “Wait. Are you bit?!” He snapped instantly causing Rick to ready his gun again as Daryl elbowed him to stop.

“I would like not to be dropped on by a walker, Daryl. You can’t be too sure what happened until she makes herself—-“ Rick stopped when the woman they were talking about finally climbed down the tree.

No obvious bites

But very obvious injuries

“I’m not bitten. I’m…being chased” She stated and it didn’t take long for the four to be alerted by the commotion on the road. Which had Rick sprinting without a second thought given his kids were there.

When the leader returned to the rest of his family, he noticed they had taken care of it. There were three men. Two were taken care of and one had gotten away but not without something to show for it.

“They were asking if we’ve seen some woman, then it got a bit hairy as if we were trying to hide something from them” Abraham started.

“They threatened to hurt the kids. We were going to let them live obviously” Carol continued as she had been hovering around Judith and Carl just as much as Michonne has with Tyreese.

“The third got away. To be honest with you, he ain’t gonna make it very fair” Noah frowns gripping the strap to his weapon while looking into the direction they had come from as Rick grew anxious of another threat like the Claimers only a few of them came in contact with. Which brought into question if they should let the woman they found in with them.

Given her state and lack of weapons, she’s no threat to them besides whoever wants her dead.

“We have the woman. She’s in bad shape. No weapons but a makeshift knife that could only really take out a rotting corpse like a walker.” Rick stated waiting for any negative sign from the group that would tell him to not bring her in.

“How bad is she?” Maggie frowns growing worried before turning to the sound of footsteps finding Glenn stepping out with Daryl who helped the woman walk. “We’ll help her”

“Is that really a good idea bringing in more trouble?” Sasha questioned only for Maggie to now have an annoyed look.

“We all actively entered Terminus and practically brought ourselves more trouble. We have the upper hand with whoever these men are, they don’t stand a chance”

“Then we’ll take her in. For right now, we should make camp before it gets too dark to see where we are going” Carol added as she followed Maggie’s lead in approaching the woman to help her, noticing Daryl was glued to her suddenly when they went to help her.

Y/N is her name

Rosita forced Eugene to help her and Glenn make up the trigger line as Tara added the cans. The technique to warn them of walkers when they make up camp in open areas. Abraham took care of taking first watch after checking out their perimeter.

Daryl took the first aid kit from Maggie once she found it out of all their persons, to bring it to Y/N and help assess her injuries noticing a few of the cuts on her arms were deeper than he anticipated. None of them could do stitches in the conditions they were in. He had to manage with heavy bandaging and she let him patch her up but the second he was done, she instantly retracted into herself.

“He feels guilty”

Rick watched Carol sit beside him as they were watching the scene before them.

“What do you mean?”

“He feels guilty for Beth so he has this need to save her” Carol frowns watching Daryl take out his canteen handing it to Y/N who rejected it. Regardless of how hard he insisted. “Save everyone even if it means tearing himself down”

“Well, he’s got us. They both do”

During the night when most were asleep, Daryl took over watch for Abraham letting the man get some sleep. He noticed Y/N get up from her spot and started to move past the trigger line keeping herself quiet…that’s probably why she’s gone unnoticed at first until her escape became dire.

“Take watch” Daryl whispered to Glenn not giving him a second to respond as he was already on his leave. Maggie couldn’t help herself from stirring awake when her husband moved but she noticed the archer and couldn’t help but worry.

“Where are you going?”

Y/N stopped in her track giving him a deer in headlights kind of look, especially given the light from his flashlight shined in her eyes.

“I’m leaving” She relaxed turning away from the light as Daryl turned it off but quickly took a hold of her arm as gentle as he could. “Listen—-“

“I’m not going to listen to anything by the lines of “it’s to protect us” when we’ve all had our fair share of bullshit in this world”

“But Daryl—-“ silence was quickly met when another set of footsteps were heard, and not just one and no sound that determined a walker or frankly any of their own.

Daryl only had his knife as did Y/N. He went to reach for his but she halted him, letting the two listen for a while longer.

“That stupid bitch just had to go and get some help”

“They should’ve let her bleed to death”

“Useless pig” the third whispered but there were more to follow and Y/N gave Daryl a concerned look before suddenly booking it after she grabbed the flashlight in his hand.

A diversion is what she decided upon without telling anything to Daryl as he stood there in a bit of shock watching her fade into the night until the light of his flashlight turned on. Then the sudden shift of stealth approach those chasing her, turned into sprints and shouts. That quickly alerted the others while Daryl ran back to get his crossbow that Maggie already met him halfway on.

This was stupid Y/N thought as she ran and dodged as many trees as she could in the night. Even with a flashlight, she couldn’t help but bump into a few and that only drove the pain from her previous injuries to a higher level.

“She just ran?!”

“As a diversion one can assume” Rick sprinted after Daryl with Maggie and Carol on either side of him and Abraham, Rosita, and Michonne following shortly behind.

The trail ran dry, how it could it have run dry?

“Fucking hell!” One of the men shouted and with his anger brewing externally, he pushed one of the others onto his back. “That fucking slut just had to get loose”

The one on the floor slowly picks himself up but only for the third, who seemed to be the angriest out of them all.

“If you had tied the knots better, she would still be the squirming mess beneath me back home” the tone of his anger only made it clear that he was the leader of them all. He quickly dropped the guy when he heard footsteps as two others quickly stepped toward the sound to investigate, only for one of them to meet their end with an arrow through his eye. “Motherfuckers—-“

“If you wanna live” Which you won’t

“You’re going to want to stay right there” Rick stated after Daryl, with his gun raised as their family had their weapons drawn to the living three that were more empty-handed. “Where’s the woman? The one you are after”

“Like we are going to help you find—-“ the one on the left side of the leader dropped dead after Daryl shot another bolt. This action caused the other lesser to panic.

“S-She ran off. W-We don’t k-know where she—-“ he met his end from Maggie, who had enough of the absent of clear answers.

“I’m the last one here. If you’re smart, you wouldn’t kill me if you want to know where she is” Which he didn’t know. “She’s always been this much trouble. You’re only signing yourselves up for someone who leaves when we were only doing her a favor”

“The injuries she bears, have nothing to do with “doing her a favor”” Glenn frowns keeping his attention on the man like the others, until he felt something from above hit him. He kept his composure letting Rick take lead in talking while he looked up while the others were still focused on the man. Finding Y/N hiding in the trees but also moving herself to get above the man.

“What did you do to her?” Daryl knew from what he saw, but how it happened was still a mystery. “What did she do to you to have what happened to her, happen?”

“Asking a lot of questions. She got what she deserved and she still needs to pay for a lot of it”

Michonne gave a quick glance to Rick in a way of telling him to just end this man. But she was observant enough to hear the movement above resulting in her and Glenn grabbing the few in front (Daryl, Rick, and Maggie) to pull them back letting Y/N fall from the tree and on top of this guy.

The force causing him to collapse and Y/N instantly drove her knife into his neck. She rolled off the man leaving the knife in him as she felt hands on her resulting in a total body jerk away when it was just Daryl helping her. He didn’t help until she relaxed enough and while he helped her, Rick searched through their packs finding some food they desperately needed.

Maggie went through one of them and pulled out a few photos held together by a paper clip. Only to realize Y/N was in these photos and they weren’t what you think given she was taken by disgusting men. It was photos that originally were hers and they had taken everything of hers.

“These belong to you” Maggie said with a soft reassuring smile as she gave Y/N the photos resulting in a few tears spilling from her eyes in relief. “How’d you…even end up with these guys?”

Y/N held the photos in her hands finding one of her and her family resulting in more tears but she quickly wiped them away. “I was with my family and we got into trouble with someone? Even in the end, there are people with power and these guys were sent after us when we left…and they wanted to do certain things to me that only got my dad and brother killed trying to protect me.”

“Did they—-“

“No…I kept fighting back to a point they had enough and just” Y/N gestures to herself and her injuries which were being eyed the entire time given she’s opened a few bandages resulting in a few bleeding again.

“Let’s get back to the others…get some rest” Maggie gave a warm smile to her as they all made sure there were no more before making their way back.

Finally their group settles with no threat other than walkers…everyone slept except for Rick on watch, and Daryl and Y/N who were too awake in that moment. He helped her with new bandages but she couldn’t help but get a feeling from him.

“You…are a protective person aren’t you?”

“What?”

“When I stumbled into your group, you didn’t hesitate to invite me in and protect me from the harm that is no longer a threat”

“There will always be a threat. You’re just…a part of us now. We’re protective of each other”

Y/N couldn’t help but strike that cord.

“I would protect the next person needing to be saved if I lost someone dear to me” She didn’t need to know about Beth, all she needed to know was the feeling and that’s what she got from his.

His silence only gave her the answer. She reached out and took his hand squeezing it to reassure him even if she didn’t know how it happened, that it wasn’t his fault.

“I barely know yea, and vise versa…yet you know so much”

“I’m good at reading body language when I’m not in distress. It comes in handy”

“Hm. Well. Aside from that, get to know us without reading just body language”

“I will” Y/N smiles, giving a soft thank you when he finished the last bandage. Daryl rose to his feet going to relieve Rick of his watch but as he looked back at her, she kept a smile.

It will come in handy one day, knowing someone just from their body language.

Daryl sat on the porch railing one night with one of his homemade cigarettes in hand thinking too hard on something. His attention instantly snapping out of it when the front door opened letting Dog out but also for Y/N to step out and sit next to him.

“I don’t—-“

“I know, but I’m here” Y/N reassures every thought coursing in his mind with that smile of hers which brought him to wrap his arm around her shoulders bringing her close.

“You do just know things”

[juststoriesintheend]

I. Faith

Chapter Pairing(s): Master Sol x f!Reader

Chapter Content: unrequited feelings, the force, swearing

Word Count: 3,534

《 [series masterlist] 》 《 II 》 《 III 》 《 IV 》

Osha is lost. You know she is strong, capable, that she can take care of herself without issue, but that knowledge doesn’t stop your heart from worrying. She’s suffered so much since the return of her sister, since her past was dredged from the very depths of her heart and brought to light for all to see, that you fear it will lead her to ruin if she isn’t found. You don’t want that for her. You don’t want to see her light fade from the Force. But her disappearance only further solidifies your concerns, sends you pacing the halls of the Polan.

That is how Sol finds you. You sense his presence in the moments before he turns the corner ahead of you, but you actively avoid looking him in the eyes. You know what he’ll say, you know the patient wisdom you will see in his eyes, and you find yourself hoping to avoid it at all costs.

“You are worried.” He doesn’t need to say it, but you find that the sound of his voice is soothing, even when stating the obvious. It soothes the frantic peaks of your anxiety a hair.

“I know.” It is easy to forget yourself, to forget how your emotions extend beyond yourself. He must have been fighting against the onslaught of your thoughts for the past hour, if not the entire flight here. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

The raising of his hand, palm out, halts your apology, but the gentle curve of his smile softens the blow. “You are not the only one. I fear for her safety, as well.” Sol finally bridges the remaining space between you and settles his hand upon your shoulder. Warmth emanates from the point of contact, spiraling down your arm and across your shoulder blade, the familiar, comforting sort of warmth Sol always carries with him. “We will find her,” he says.

I hope so, you think, but you do not voice it. You know what he would say if you did. Hoping to beat him to it, to project the confidence and certainty you wish you had, you echo the sentiment back to him. “I have faith in the Force.”

Sol smiles again, something tender and sweet that crinkles by his eyes. “That is all we need.”

Savareen is a remarkable place, vibrant and wild in ways unlike anything you’ve ever known before. The ocean is blindingly blue, the sand of its beaches dazzlingly bright, and the flowers that dot the inland sand dunes are the most colorful, most delicate purple blossoms this side of the galaxy. It’s a pity, then, that you’re not here to sightsee.

The wind tears at your robes like it tears at your voice, ripping it from your throat the moment you speak it. “There are too many life forms around, I can’t sense her!”

Sol nods. He stows his own scanner at a loop on his belt and reaches out through the Force with you, his arm extended and eyes shut. You follow suit, but not before you take a moment, a fleeting thing, to admire his profile against the shimmer of the sand. When you finally join him, his signature is glowing brightly in the haze of the Force. Tendrils of his essence spread out before you, drifting past and through every dune and rock and streak of grass, Osha’s name the only question he brings with him. Wherever she is, she is beyond either your reach or his. Which is concerning in its own right. Sol’s mastery of the Force is much greater than yours and if he cannot sense her, then she is far away indeed.

“Should we split up?” You struggle up the slope of a particularly steep dune, tripping all over your feet and the sand and the dangling edge of your robes as you go. “Cover more ground?”

“No.” And suddenly, he’s there, his hand at your arm, pulling you up when your feet fail you. “This planet is uncharted, easy to get lost in. We will find her together.”

The peak of this particular dune offers a rather bleak view of the landscape - sand and gravel for as far as you can see, with small mountain peaks in the distance. Some of the valleys nestled between dunes sport streaks of purple where flowers have cropped up, perhaps feeding on water run off when it rains or a water source beneath the surface. But there is no sign of Osha. Defeat burns hot and heavy in your chest, and you wish it didn’t. Savareen is massive, an entire planet’s worth of desert and ocean, and if Osha does not wish to be found, then there is only so much you can do. It worries you that this mission may be one that remains incomplete - forever.

Sol starts for the bottom of this dune, where the flowers crop up among the stones, but he takes his time. The sands shift so easily under his feet that he can only go so fast. You are hesitant to follow.

It takes him a moment, but he stops and turns when he notices you haven’t been following. His eyes squint against the sun. “Your concern for her burns brightly.”

There was never any point in trying to hide it, but you are still frustrated that he read you so easily. “Yes,” you answer, slowly. You try to recenter yourself in the Force before continuing. “But I’m sure if I weren’t so anxious, I would sense the same from you.”

The awkward, tilted smile he offers you in response is confirmation enough. “She needs us. She needs you, and I cannot do this alone.”

No, you don’t suppose he can, not when he embarked on this mission without first clearing it with the Council. Neither of you should be here and you both know it.

The sand shifts quickly and quietly when you take your first step down. You find yourself thanking the Council, the ancestral Jedi, anyone who cares, for the choice to clothe Jedi in tall boots. At least that way your feet aren’t drowning in sand.

“Sol, if you think I’d ever let you do this alone, you’re an idiot.” You slide past him, letting the sand take you where it pleases, but the stunned expression on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. You can feel it, even without the Force. “Osha needs us both. And I, for- ah!”

Your boot lands on a rock, and the sand beneath it gives way to empty air, and in a single moment you’re lurched forward and sent tumbling down the remainder of the dune. Somewhere in the distance, you hear Sol shout your name, but it’s lost to the wind and the rushing of your blood in your ears. This dune is big, but not so big that you have all the free time in the world before you smash your head upon the rocks at its base. You need to act now.

The Force is vast. Even after a lifetime of learning to fold yourself within its weight, it still manages to steal your breath each time you reach for it. This time is no exception. You try to imagine yourself as something very small drifting through something great and soft, something gentle and slow - a drop of water in a tiny brook, a petal skipping over a field of grass - hoping to slow your descent. For a long moment, you’re not sure that it works. You are still falling, the sand still surrounds you, but…

Something in the Force moves. It is a mighty thing that blasts its way past you, though you still can’t tell which way is up or down. Everything is fast and hard, and you’ve decided to come to terms with the fact that you’re probably going to have a very nasty gash somewhere on your body when you finally finish tumbling, until suddenly everything is solid. Your mind still spins, but your body has stopped.

You take a breath. In. Out. You open one eye. There’s a wall of sand before you. You open the other. It’s littered with the broken branches and battered flowers from the blooming bushes you had noticed earlier, but no rocks. No great stones for you to dash your head upon, nothing that might endanger you. Just the violet petals of the Savareen flowers and the faint yellow trail of pollen they leave behind. Your mind reels as you drag yourself into some vaguely comfortable sitting position. Did you do this? You suppose you could have, but summoning a wall of sand to protect yourself hadn’t been your intention.

It’s then that you hear your name on the wind. Sol. Though you’re still dizzy and half dazed, you swing your head in the direction of his voice just in time to see him staggering the last few paces separating you, the sleeves of his robes swinging this way and that as his body dips with each step. He drops to his knees before you, and you find yourself breathless at the gesture.

“Are you alright?” he asks. Already, he’s brought his hands to cup your face, seeking out any injuries with a sort of crackling and frantic energy you have never seen from him. “Are you hurt?”

You nod. “‘m fine. I-I think.”

He wears gloves. You’ve always known this, but it’s a fact that hits you particularly hard now that he is touching you. In the back of your mind, you’ve absently mused on the feel, the scent, the everything about them, though it had never been intentional. Not fully. They are soft, you find. Worn with age and the hilt of a well-loved saber, sanded down until they grow thin at the seams and his warmth seeps through to whatever he happens to be touching.

Sol frowns as he brushes his thumb over the ridge of your cheekbone. Electricity shoots down your spine. “You have…”

“What?”

A quick glance down, though, shows streaks of yellow over the white and brown parts of your robes: the pollen. The flowers must have dropped their powder when you fell, or perhaps when Sol summoned enough sand to stop a runaway fathier. Curious, you swipe your finger over your shoulder and sniff it.

“It smells like petrichor,” you muse, and that, for some reason, is enough to make him laugh. You wish he would laugh more often.

“A remarkable observation.” He stands and offers you his hands, watching patiently while you brush the remaining pollen from your clothes. “Come on.”

The wall of sand catches your eye as you move. Before your question can manifest itself, you find yourself drawn to Sol, your gaze, your body, your very essence leaning and leaning until you finally fall into him. It’s possible you’re still a bit dizzy. “Was that you?”

He braces himself against the influx of your weight as his arms come around you, and it strikes you just how soft he manages to be while also staying strong. He smiles that crinkle-eyed smile you have always loved and nods. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, suddenly enraptured by the gentle slope of his jaw and the rich, earthy hue of his eyes as they flicker down, down to the cleave in your robes and the sudden thrumming of your pulse as it leaps from your throat. It strikes you hard, then, that you feel more exposed under the blazing of the sun and your layers of clothing than you ever have before. Startled by this discomforting realization, you scramble out of his arms on wobbly legs. “We should, uh, get going. I don’t want to lose her.”

It’s hot. Far too hot. Savareen is a desert, of course, so the heat is to be expected, but it feels strange this time. You feel strange. Already, you’ve shrugged off the outer layer of your clothes, but your body seems only to grow warmer with each passing moment. It’s awful.

“D’you think we’re any closer?”

Sol’s head tilts in your direction, his expression unreadable. “I have a read on her ship,” he says with a nod to his scanner, “but I still cannot sense her.”

Oh, thank the Force. The sooner you find her, the sooner you can get off this dust bowl and strip out of your clothes to enjoy something cool and refreshing. A real shower, or an endless glass of some chilled, fruity drink that freezes your brain. Even an ice bath sounds appealing. Or a visit to Hoth. Anything, so long as it quenches the fire that’s blazing beneath your skin.

The dunes have evened out into something more walkable - a blessing in its own right. Pebbles and larger rocks pepper the land while the mountains loom ever closer. The sun drifts down toward the softly sloped peaks, and the flowers sway in the wind, and everything feels itchy and tight and utterly unbearable. You cast your attention to Sol and feel completely, irrationally angry watching him exist without being as miserable as you are.

“Aren’t you melting, Sol?” Hands pry at the neck of your robes to loosen them even more, but they come back damp with your own sweat.

He halts, rather than answer. Soft brown eyes - warm, always warm, like a fire in the dead of winter, like the earth heated by the light of the sun - study you without words, without judgment, without a shred of the misery you feel now, and you hate it. You hate it so much that it makes your stomach churn and your thighs ache.

Your mouth parts to fill the empty space he leaves behind. “I swear, this planet’s a fucking sauna. How can you stand it?” You don’t care that you’ve never truly sworn in front of him before. It’s too difficult to keep up appearances right now. You are not the perfect Jedi you’ve always wished him to think of you as, you are hot and you are tired and you want this to be over as soon as possible. “What the hell is she doing out here, anyway? Running? From what? She couldn’t have picked a nicer spot? We’d have a harder time finding her on Coruscant and at least it wouldn’t be so fucking miserable-”

“Are you well?”

It’s his tone that gives you pause. Not once in the past sixteen years has he ever spoken to you like this, like… like there’s something wrong with you, like your very presence offends him. It’s unlike him. And it hurts.

Scowling, you start to lumber past him. “Are you?”

His eyes close and hardly a moment later, you feel a force pressing lightly against your sternum. A Force. His Force.

“Are you studying me?”

Sol’s brow furrows in your direction. “Your mind is clouded, confused,” he says, and he does it with such calm. How is he so damn calm? “What’s wrong?”

He has the audacity to ask you this?

“Look around you! We’re in the middle of a kriffing desert, Sol, and you wanna know ‘what’s wrong’?”

The heat of the sun seems to beam itself directly into your brain. (Something logical in the far reaches of your mind curls in on itself.) You shouldn’t even be here. None of you should. (You’re so angry, screaming inside your skin as this planet boils you alive, and you don’t understand why.) This whole mission is a waste - a waste of time, a waste of your resources, of the bond between you and Osha, between her and Sol. What the hell was she thinking? (Something isn’t right. This isn’t right.)

Sol’s compassion eats through your heart when he looks you in the eye. “I’m worried about her, too, but-”

“She’s an idiot,” you snap, and your vehemence startles even you, though you fight not to show it. (Why are you so angry?)

The irritation that lances through his sigh, through his voice, is a victory, small though it is. “I understand your anger, but it will not help us find Osha.”

He’s right, of course. Some Jedi instinct deep within you knows this to be true.

“Anger is chaos,” he continues. “It burns bright, but it only serves to confuse and to tear apart that which is unified.”

There is no chaos, there is harmony. You learned those words from your own Master, and you have heard them from Sol’s own mouth countless times by virtue of being Osha’s friend all these years.

A memory sparks.

“Center yourself.”

A younger Osha, about twelve and practically vibrating with emotion, sits cross-legged under her Master’s watchful eye. She fidgets, restless and uncertain; you can feel it from the alcove where you linger.

“I can’t,” she says, and you can hear all the things she wishes she could say tied tightly together with a thread of restraint.

Sol almost smiles. “You can.”

He moves to sit across from her, his cloak spread out around him like the tresses of a waterfall. He does it with such grace, so effortlessly. It’s why you can’t help lingering where you don’t belong, watching something that isn’t yours to see.

“You do not need to fear your emotions, Osha. They are not an enemy for you to fight, but an ally that gives you strength.”

Being five years your junior, Osha’s skills with the Force are still young and struggling to flourish in the overgrowth of her past that still haunts her. You remember being her age, how the world around you felt too big to make sense of, how you tried your very best to be a good padawan but always felt lacking. Meditation does not come easy to you either, not even now. Yet you find yourself intrigued by Sol’s approach to the issue. He comes to Osha’s level and meets her where she struggles, he brings warmth and understanding, a patience that runs so deep you wonder if it’s a piece of the Force that threads directly through him.

“It is through our emotions that we can find peace, but only by using the Force as our guide.” Osha nods quietly, her eyelids twitching as she attempts to reconnect herself, but Sol smiles. He always smiles. “Breathe deep. Find me in the Force, Padawan.”

On Savareen, you feel the echo of that memory breeze through you, body and soul. With it comes a peace that is quiet and unassuming, shrouded in Sol’s very essence. He’s reaching out to you, you realize, offering you his hand. Offering you peace.

Find me in the Force.

You are a Knight now. You are not the young child you once were, nor the teen who snuck through the Temple halls in search of mischief. You are better than this, you are above such petty and aggressive means of expression, and Sol knows it as well as you do.

Find me.

There is something that looms large over your heart and mind, something that clouds your judgment in a way unknown to you. Through the Force, you sense it curled up like a predator lying in wait as it courses through your veins. Through Sol’s peace and the calming guidance of his presence, you find that this thing brings fire and passion, that it simmers low in your belly and boils your brain while lashing out at anything that does not bring it satisfaction.

“There’s something in my head,” you say.

“I see it.”

“It hurts.” You hadn’t fully realized it until this moment. “Sol…”

His hand curls around your bicep. It is meant to be a comfort, but all it does is make your body scream. You cry out, half agonized and half electrified, and very nearly fall over, as if his very presence were the source of it all.

The planet seems to swim around you, the sand bleeding into the sky into the mountains into everything and nothing. Desperate for relief, you claw at the hem of your robes until they start falling apart at your chest. Your cloak is long forgotten, the tabard and overtunic ripped off your body and thrown aside, everything is discarded until you find yourself in only your undertunic and trousers. The boots are on very thin ice.

Everything hurts and everything is hot. Wherever your clothing touches you, it burns like a brand, but even in the midst of your desperation you can’t bring yourself to completely strip, not in front of Sol. Not like this. Some final shred of dignity still clings to your consciousness and you won’t allow yourself to bare your body to him. Not when… After all these years, he’s never known. It would kill you if he discovered it now.

You fall to your hands and knees in the sand, panting. “Sol, what’s wrong with me? What’s happening?”

Sol will know. He always knows.

But as you slip onto your stomach, your mind still screaming and your body on the verge of implosion, you catch a glimpse of the Master you’ve loved for the past eight years and all you see on his face is fear. Confusion. Uncertainty.

And then you see nothing at all.

taglist: @wolffegirlsunite

[respectthepetty]

What is tradition?

I finally watched this week's episodes of The Eighth Sense and

Episode six was NOT a dream

Ji Hyun is alive but whatever happened is serious

This is a giant "fuck you" to tradition

First, Ji Hyun brings light to Jae Won's dark world. Jae Won is in a very dark place (and head space) after the confrontation with his dad and the camera breaking, so he reaches out to the light.

Ji Hyun is at his peak brightest because Jae Won is about to experience the darkest period of his life . . . again

Jae Won is also in a haze due to his mental state. The colors become less ethereal as their time together continues during the trip because Jae Won is becoming more grounded.

Next, since episode six is not a dream, that means something did happen to Ji Hyun, and it's serious.

Because it needs to be serious.

Someone already compared Jae Won to Team from Between Us. They share the same trauma. They share the same burden. They share the same mentality. Team loved Win but was too afraid to say it. He was too afraid to lose someone he loved like before. He was too afraid to push because the last time he pushed, there were fatal consequences.

Jae Won specifically voices this last concern. His brother died in front of him, and much like Team, I'm sure it is partially due to a rash decision Jae Won made, much like this one:

Someone pointed out that the back of their wetsuits read "RASH" and this entire beach trip was a rash decision by Jae Won.

If Jae Won feels responsible for his brother's death, he will definitely feel responsible for whatever happens to Ji Hyun, and because of that he will resort back to his old self even more.

Jae Won was an overachiever. The hospital staff thought he was older because he was mature and put together. He did exactly what his parents wanted. He did what society expected. He dated a girl. He befriended the masculine men. He did all of that, but lately, he has been rebellious. He's been drinking. He broke up with the girl. He is distancing himself from his friend(s). He doesn't want to go into business.

But this incident with Ji Hyun will put him back on the straight and narrow. It will scare him and shake him to his core because it is a reminder of what could happen when he doesn't stay in line - he could lose the one he loves the most. So to protect his heart and Ji Hyun, he will pull back, date the girl, hang out with his friends, and do what his parents ask. He will follow tradition.

But the problem with tradition is it's really just history repeating itself again, and again, and again.

The show is about the troubles with tradition. Tae Hyung is hellbent on keeping tradition alive. He wanted the freshmen to drink until they passed out on the beach trip. He wants them to cater to him. He is, at his very core, a traditionalist even though it has been pointed out several times how tradition hurt him. Yoon Won mentions every time how Tae Hyung was essentially bullied and hazed by his seniors, but instead of wanting to change for the better, Tae Hyung wants to continue the cycle of pain.

Ae Ri refuses to drink anymore at the beach. She rebukes traditional mindsets and gender roles. She speaks casually with the seniors and even when Yoon Won comments that the freshmen need to use formalities with the seniors, Ae Ri scoffs. She doesn't respect Tae Hyung and won't simply because he is a senior.

Tae Hyung needs tradition because it is predictable and structured. Ae Ri hates tradition because it is confining and restrictive.

Jae Won told his therapist that life after the military has been difficult. This is a common feeling. Military life is structured. Civilian life is full of choices. Military service is riddled with tradition. Jae Won is lost without the structure of tradition. He wants to break free, but the way he has been handling it (drinking, partying, not applying for jobs) is an extreme. Instead of one thing holding power over him, he is giving up power to anything and everything just so he doesn't have to make any decisions because when he does, people get hurt.

Jae Won wears a mask with everyone, but he was beginning to lean on Ji Hyun in hopes that Ji Hyun could make those decisions for him. Ji Hyun is the light in Jae Won's dark world, so why couldn't Ji Hyun just be Jae Won's entire world?

In the bar, Jae Won got upset at Tae Hyung but Ji Hyun was there to calm him down, both in the first episode and the fifth. But we saw in the trailer that Jae Won will hit Tae Hyung in the classroom because Ji Hyun won't be there to calm him down since Jae Won pushed Ji Hyun away after the incident.

Jae Won must take control of his own life instead of living in these extremes. He needs to find a balance within himself. He needs to define who he wants to be without depending on others to do it for him.

The accident with Ji Hyun is going to push Jae Won back into his comfort zone, so he will be alone again, pretending with everyone and masking his true self.

But he will realize his comfort zone is his hell, and HE is the only one who can rescue himself from it. Ji Hyun can't be around while Jae Won figures out who he needs to be. He can't keep repeating the same mistakes.

Because

Jae Won's biggest problem is himself

And

Jae Won's only solution is himself.

He must be his own light.

Sidenote: I'm gonna marry this queen.

I have an answer for you @wen-kexing-apologist. I have thoughts for you @waitmyturtles and @dribs-and-drabbles. I agree with you @bengiyo

[writingquestionsanswered]

i've recently started writing fanfiction, but even after meticulously planning everything out before starting, my writing feels very choopy, emotionless and passive for the most part, and if i try to include description, it feels i'm overdoing it. i mean, it is the firsts draft technically, but the low quality makes me demotivated to continue writing. i know i need to finish the first draft before reading back and editing, but seeing the state of it now, i feel like i should complete the first draft then rewrite it instead of edit it so i can frame sentences better. but i worry it will take too much time, time i cannot afford to spend for writing fanfiction as a college student. is this just a beginner thing? what should i do to make my writing interesting? or am i asking the wrong questions?

Fan-Fiction Writing Feels Choppy and Emotionless

I don't want to assume you've never written fiction (because you could be a writer of original fiction just beginning to write fan-fiction), but unless you are an experienced writer of original fiction--then yes, it's a beginner thing.

Writing fiction, for whatever reason, is something people think they'll be able to take a crack at for the first time and do brilliantly. Which is funny, because we never feel that way about anyone else. Most people don't pick up a guitar for the first time and expect to be able to shred the solo of Purple Haze. Likewise, people don't generally pick up a violin for the first time and expect to sound like Lindsey Stirling, or pick up a tennis racket for the first time and expect to win a game against Venus or Serena. But for some reason, people who sit down to write fiction expect to be able to do it really well right from the beginning, and it just doesn't work like that, just as it doesn't work like that with anything else.

The good news is this: the discord between what you're actually writing and what you want to be able to write means that you know how good writing should sound. That gives you a leg up on a lot of beginning writers. The bad news is no amount of knowing that or knowing what specifically to do to achieve that translates to instant amazing writing. Just in the same way that if you pick up a guitar for the first time, someone can tell you, "In order to shred the Purple Haze solo like a pro, you should do this, this, and this..." but that still doesn't mean you can instantly do those things. You still have to learn how to do those things and practice doing those things. Writing is the same way.

Choppy writing can be the result of a lot of different things... lack of planning, lack of structure, not knowing how to control pace and flow, and more often than not, just outright lack of practice. If you learn how to write your name in calligraphy, even knowing how to hold the pen and what strokes to make doesn't mean you're going to do it pretty the first time. Your early attempts will be choppy and rough, but every attempt will be better than the last. Same with stories. Luckily, these are things you can improve in revision.

Lack of emotion, too, can be caused by a lot of different things. Not knowing the characters well enough, not putting enough thought into how the character development connects with the plot (or what the character development is if you're writing a character-driven story), and not having a good grasp on bringing emotional and sensory details into the story. Passive writing can be sought out and changed to active writing when it makes sense to do so. Again, these are all things you can fix in revision. The next time you write a story, you'll have a better idea of how to implement these things the first time around.

So, ultimately, what I'm trying to say is do write the story despite how not great it feels. Then, use your revision as an opportunity to learn the things you need to know to make the story better. If it still feels choppy, read up on structure, pacing, and flow, then see how you can fix what's there. If it still feels emotionless and uninteresting, read up on emotional and sensory detail, and add it where it's lacking. This combines the learning process with practice in a targeted way... you're learning and practicing the things you specifically need to work on, rather than overwhelming yourself by trying to learn everything there is to know about writing.

The next story will be a little better, the one after that will be even better. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 27 - Fuck or Die

BOGO stories! I figured since it's already the 27th for me I'd post this one earlier than normal. ^^; Enjoy!~

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

When Barbatos first called you in the middle of the night, you were a little unhappy. You had a big exam the next day and you knew you’d catch hell from Lucifer should you get a bad mark. But the moment you were told there was something wrong with Diavolo, you immediately shot up. 

You barely got yourself dressed without making a racket, booking it out the door of the Hall of Lamentation. A few of the brothers tried to stop you, an excuse shouted their way as you left. The prince’s butler met you at the gate, walking briskly down the halls.

“I did not expect this to be happening so soon,” the demon told you, tail swishing behind him impatiently. “And I do apologize for the inconvenience, but–”

“I appreciate the call Barbatos,” you interjected, finally coming to a stop outside Diavolo’s room. “I appreciate you respecting the fact that I’m his partner and want to know what’s going on and if he’s okay.” You gave the butler a sad, but patient smile, still not fully understanding the circumstances that your beloved prince was under.

“That’s precisely why I called you actually,” Barbatos informs. He’s slow to open the door, the room dim save for a few candles here and there. “Young master? I’ve brought MC, for you.”

The room is filled with a heady scent that you can’t quiet place. It belonged to Diavolo, sure, but you only could catch it during your more…intimate moments with him. Your beloved is on his bed, blankets, pillows, and sheets strewn about. 

The demon snaps his head to look at the both of you, pupils dilated down to a slit against his golden irises. You see one of his wings twitch as you approach cautiously. “This is a very delicate time,” Barbatos informs you. “We experience these instances every few years in the Devildom. We mate or we die.”

The words hit you like a lead brick as your face contorts with concern. Your head whips back and forth between Diavolo and Barbatos. “Then…I need to help him,” you say resolutely. You kneel at the young prince’s bedside and let your palm caress his cheek. 

Diavolo is quick to take in your scent, and you watch a bit more clarity come to him. “MC,” he purrs, voice low and slightly distorted. You’re hauled onto the prince’s bed, immediately coming to straddle his hips. Clawed hands are gentle as they begin to disrobe you. 

You can hear Barbatos announcing his departure, stating he’ll return with food and water before slipping out of the room. You watch the door for a moment before a low growl pulls your attention back to the demon beneath you. “Please…” your beloved sighs, rocking his hips up so his already naked member rubs against your hole. 

You nod, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead. He’s feverish and sweating, and you feel as if you don’t have much time. Your hand shoots for his bedside table for the lube you knew was there from previous ventures, flicking open the cap and spreading a generous amount on your lover’s member. “I need you to go slow Dia,” you tell him softly. “I’m not prepped yet, okay?”

You can tell he understands by the way he takes your wrist and licks it gently. You smile and slowly start to lower yourself onto him. The stretch burned something fierce, but it wasn’t unpleasant. You noticed the way his hands shook as he held you, forcing himself to let you go at your own pace. 

Only once you were fully seated, hips to hips were you abruptly pulled down so your chest was rested against his. “M i n e,” Diavolo growls, as he slowly pulls out of you before slamming back in. You cry out in pleasure, your lover’s member hitting your sweet spot dead on. It was borderline overwhelming, but you did your best to keep a level head.

Despite his evident haze of arousal, you could see the young prince trying his best to restrain the beast inside. Thankfully for the both of you, this was certainly not your first rodeo with the heir to the throne. Your body quickly adjusted to his girth and you gave him a knowing smile. 

“Go ahead Dia, let go.”

The time you spent with him was a blur. Every word of praise, of ownership, of adoration was music to your ears that made pleasure buzz along your skin. You were bitten and bruised but in the most beautiful of ways, a claim made across your skin in purples and reds. 

You were drawn back to consciousness by a wet sensation along your inner thigh. Your bleary eyes open and flick down to the demon between your legs. Washcloth in hand, Diavolo gives you a sheepish smile.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he tells you, voice clearer and just above a whisper. “But I owed it to you to at least get you cleaned up.” A soft chuckle comes from the prince as a glob of cum oozes from your hole beyond the plug that was put in place. You only shiver and shake your head, smiling fondly.”

“So long as you and Barbatos gives me a better heads up, I don’t mind being fucked to hell and back.” 

[dreaisgrayte]

Temptress

His hands were big, almost bigger than your chest. It was surprising the first time you looked at them, really looked at them. He was just sitting there, hand splayed out behind him to support his lean as he chatted with surrounding friends. His fingers added to the length, but the way the muscles made his hand look like a piece of art was something you’d never noticed about anyone else. Then, he’d glance over at you staring at his hands, curiosity getting the better of him. He noticed the way your eyes were half lidded, almost as if you were in a daze. 

“Y/n?” He felt his mouth say your name, but he didn’t mean to say it so loud. Now everyone was staring at the two of you. Your attention was now on his eyes, how vibrant they looked in the sun. A mix of red and yellow haze. 

“Yes?” You smile innocently, like you weren’t just thinking mostly devious thoughts about your friend’s hands. He glances at the small crowd and then back to you. 

“Would you like to come with me to get some snacks for everyone?” He gets up to stand, stretching out his arms in front of you. Was he always this built? 

“Uhh…” Your brain stops working as he smiles at you, a smile that lit up places that weren’t usually supposed to feel this way. “Sure…” You finally reply. His smile grows as he starts to walk toward the inner hallways of the building. You follow silently behind him, observing the way his stride was longer than yours. He suddenly stops and you nearly walk into his back. 

“Y/n.” He states firmly, turning to look at you. You’re confused now. What could he want?

“Yes?” You watch as he lifts his hand in front of your face. 

“Why were you staring at my hands so much?” He questions. You blink, then blink again. Huh? He noticed? Fuck.

“Well, uh, heh.” You glance to either side, wondering if you should just book it away from him. He almost seems to sense what you’re thinking of because he closes the distance between you. “What are you-?”

“I bet you I can take a guess.” He whispers. You furrow your brows, shaking your head slightly. He couldn’t possibly-no, he can’t know what you were thinking of. Right? You laugh awkwardly, trying to cover up how hot your body was getting. 

“You don’t need to do that-”

“You, y/n, are very vulgar.” He studies his fingers one by one and then moves his middle and ring finger down, meeting your gaze over his knuckles. A small gasp escapes your lips. “Do you want to tell me specifics, or should I make up my own story?” He smirks, stepping even closer to you. 

“Kyojuro…” At first you want to deny him the pleasure, but did you also want to deny yourself? “Meet me at my place later, then I’ll tell you exactly what to do.” 

“As you wish, temptress.”