#//pretty much cleaning out my drafts lol

[inuiiwonderland]

The locked away dragon

Your friends managed to convince you to go explore an abandoned tower with them. Legend goes that a dragon fae prince was locked away here in this tower to protect him from a war that was happening during his time. What happens when you lock eyes with bright green eyes during your exploration?

A/n: Omg Mari writing something that isn’t angst😱 lol I decided to give y’all a break (kidding I already have a angst draft ready😈)

Fem reader!

Fluff!

-

You walked down the dirt road as you dragged the stick that you found earlier on the ground as you listened to your friends bicker about something you don’t even care to remember.

“Yer so stupid ace! Whadya mean that the legend of the locked dragon is real?!”

“Excuse me?! I never said it was real! I was just telling the story since deuce didn’t know!”

“But you said it was true!”

“Yeah! To scare him!”

“Hey that didn’t scare me!”

“Oh really? You looked like you almost pissed yourself back there man!” You rolled your eyes as you poked Jack with the stick. He looked over his shoulder and chuckled seeing the bored expression on your face.

“How much longer do we have to walk? My feet are killing me!”

“We’re almost there! Just a little more walking!”

“You said that like 10 minutes ago you idiot”

“Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Huh? Of course I know! My brother was the one to give me the direction to that tower!” You scoff.

“Yeah you shouldn’t be trusting him all that much. For all we know he could’ve probably given you the wrong directions and we could be lost!”

“I know where we’re going! Just trust me”

“Yeah we’re totally lost”

“We are not!”

“Are too”

“Are not!”

“Are too”

“Are no-“

“Guys!” You both looked at jack and see him point somewhere behind you too.

“I think we’re here” Both you and ace then turn around and there, lo and behold there stood the tower from the legends.

“Great sevens…”

“It’s huge”

“Well whadya waiting for? Let’s go!” Epel runs to go inside as ace follows close behind. You threw your stick and follow the two as jack and deuce do the same.

The moment you walked inside you were all surprised to see that the place has been kept clean and well maintained. You worriedly glance back at ace who was walking around with his phone out. Already recording.

“Um ace, are you sure this place is abandon?”

“It looks to clean and well kept to even be abandon”

“Oh sevens don’t tell me we just trespassed on someone’s property”

“Don’t worry guys! My brother said that not many people were able to find this place over the years so that why it isn’t destroyed or anything yet”

“So only a few people knows that this place exists?”

“Pretty much”

“Okay then! Let’s all split up and explore this place”

“Split up? What are we? The mystery gang” Deuce and epel laughed as ace rolls his eyes.

“I’ll be upstairs. Don’t piss yourself deuce!” Deuce eyes widen as he starts cursing at ace which only makes him laugh harder. Everyone then goes their separate ways and you take out your phone to use as a flashlight to see better.

You walk around the tower and took pictures of anything that you found fascinating or cool. You wouldn’t lie, this tower was for sure the most beautiful place you have ever stepped foot in. As you walk around the place, you started thinking back about the legends.

Could a dragon fae prince really be here?

You chuckle at your childish thoughts and continue exploring. At some point you found yourself walking up some set of stairs and the more you went up the more cold the air felt. You were lucky that you brought your jacket with you.

While you were walking around you noticed a big door down the hall. Curiosity got the best of you and you soon started walking down the dimly lit hallway. As you got closer, chills went down your spine. You were starting to have second thoughts about whether or not you should open the door.

“Fuck it”

The moment you opened the door you immediately coughed as dust flew everywhere. You closed your eyes to prevent any dust from entering your eyes. Finally after what felt like forever, you opened your eyes to see nothing but pitch black.

“Seriously?” You raised your phone to get a better look with your flashlight but stopped once you saw bright green eyes looking directly at you.

You took a step back before screaming which caused the creature to panic and spit fire. You luckily managed to dodge the attack before running out the area without looking back.

You could hear your heart beating in your ears as you quickly ran down the steps.

“Shit shit shit!” You say as you began to run even faster. Your scream alerted your friends and you were sure they were already downstairs waiting for you.

You ran down the steps as your heart continued pounding against your chest.

What the fuck was that?

“Y/n!” Deuce yells. The rest of the group ran up to you but you shook your head and waved your hands, signaling them to leave.

“Out! Out we need to get out of here!”

“Wh-“ A loud roar rung through the towers hall and everyone hearts dropped at that moment.

“Everyone out!” In an instant, everyone ran out the exit. No one dared to say anything as their main goal at that moment was to be as far away as possible from the tower.

After what felt like hours of running, you all slowly start slowing down as you tried to catch your breathes.

“W-wh..what was that?!” Deuce was the first one to speak up. Still trying to get his breathing under control.

“It sounded...like a roar!”

“Yeah no shit! But what kind of animal lets out a roar that can shake a whole 400 year old tower!!?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” You roll your eyes as you sit down on a log. You burry your face in your hands as you try to process what you saw just moments ago.

“Y/n”

“Mm?” Voice muffled by your hands.

“What did you see?” You stayed quiet before you finally looked up to see them all staring at you.

“I think I’m going insane”

-

A month has passed since that incident. You told them what you saw but laughed it off as some sort of joke.

The whole way home you and the rest blamed ace for what happened back at the tower. The poor boy was fighting for his life trying to defend himself as he didn’t even know that something like that would happen.

The 5 of you took a break from urban exploring for the next week or so. Still spooked from the incident.

But…

A part of you is curious about the creature that you saw that day.

Those green eyes haunts in your dreams and you can’t seem to stop thinking about it every time you try to go to sleep.

It was like an itch. You couldn’t seem to get rid of it. And you know it might sound crazy but a part of you wants to go back.

To see that what you saw that day wasn’t just your imagination.

So maybe that’s what brought you here tonight. You stood in front of the old tower as you pointed your flashlight towards it.

“This is stupid” You say to no one in particular. You huff before walking in.

It looked just like how it did a month ago.

Clean and well kept

You quietly walked around while also trying to avoid making any noise. You went up the same stairs you took last time and hoped to the great sevens that you don’t die tonight.

“This is so stupid why did I come back” You whisper to yourself as you walk down the same hall you walked last time.

After what felt like forever, you finally found the door that you last saw the creature in.

Here goes nothing

The moment you open the door you were prepare to meet the same green eyes from last time.

But what you saw was pure darkness

You shined your flashlight inside the room but again saw nothing.

Ha

HAHAHAHAHA

“Oh sevens…so it was my imagination after all” You chuckle as you slap your hand on your face.

Now I have to come up with an excuse on why I snuck out

You groan at the thought of what’s waiting for you tomorrow morning when your parents go through the security footage.

“I should’ve just stayed home” You say as you close the door. You sign as you rub your face in your hands, tired from the walk here and also disappointment.

But as you continue to curse and call yourself stupid, you notice a weird smell.

It almost smells like…smoke?

Wait

SMOKE?

and its almost like it’s coming from behind you.

You immediately turn around to only be met with those captivating eyes that you saw last time.

You scream

The creature looks almost…panicked? When you screamed and backed away while shaking its head.

After what felt like forever, you stopped screaming. You and what you now know is a dragon stare each other down as silence filled the air.

“Soooo”

You were the one to break the silence

“The legends are true” The dragon only tilts its head. Seeming confused by what you said and you couldn’t help but giggle at that action.

“You’re so cute! How long have you been living here? Oh wait! I haven’t even introduced myself yet! How rude of me” The dragon just listens as you now go on a full rant about your interests, hobbies, how you and your friends love exploring abandoned ruins and how you and your group ended up here in the first place.

He seemed to not mind about your long rant as it happily listened to whatever came out of your mouth. After some time though, you started feeling a little sleepy. So with a yawn, you wish the dragon good night before getting knocked out cold.

-

You woke up to the sound of someone’s breathing. Your brows furrowed as you slowly began to open your eyes.

You didn’t know what to expect to see so early in the morning but it definitely wasn’t a grown man watching you sleep.

You scream

“W-what?! Who are you and what have you done to my dragon?!” You shout. Backing up against the wall as the man in front raises his hand in surrender.

“There’s no need to panic! It’s me! Dragon!”

“W-what” Now that you take a good look at him. The resemblance between the man and the dragon was clear.

He had long black hair, two black horns, and….

Those green eyes

“D-dragon? You…”

How? How is that possible?

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is malleus draconia”

“I’m the locked away fae prince from the legend that you told me about last night” He says with a smile.

Oh

Well now you have a clingy dragon fae prince stuck to you🤍

-

This was sitting in my drafts for like a year now🫠 so I decided to finish it today because I really like it!

[w--zii]

a surprise

bf!jihoon x fem!reader

[minors dni]

smut warning: needy jihoon lol. male masturbation. audio recording, thats all. let me know if theres more.

vc: 530

being away from you... wasn't his favourite. even though most of the time he was in his studio creating masterpieces, barely coming home or having time for you, when things aren't in his control it drives him mad.

this is one of those times. he is aching for your touch. palming himself through his pants, he's been staring at white ceiling for 15 minutes now. with a crying groan he took his phone from nightstand and checked if he has any new messages from you. zero, of course, you are probably overworking yourself again, he thought.

jihoon's mind raced as he lay there, his thoughts consumed by images of you. the memory of your touch on his bare skin, your scent, the way you looked at him every time you took him inside your mouth, feeling your tongue on his pink-ish head.. all the thoughts fueled his desire even more. (he has a tent now)

his fingers tapping on the screen as he navigated to the voice recording app. all his song drafts welcomed him. with a smirk on his face he pressed start button and set down the phone beside his head, where the microphone can get every single sound he makes. now some pant unzipping sound can be heard. he took his cock out and gave it couple of strokes. he brought his hand mouth to spit on his fingers, especially leaning towards mic.

his slutty smirk never left his lips. he started smearing his precum all over his head, small whines leaving his mouth, he felt his heart beating faster. how many days its been since he grew this horny? he doesn't even know anymore. all he knows is how he wants you on top of him.

hand tightening around his cock, he couldn't let go of the image of your warm throat welcoming him. he didn't hesitate to make noises, even he's making sure that you can hear how needy he is for you when you listen to it.

his hands fastened as his desire for a release grow bigger. he let out breathy moans every 2 seconds, making every noise known to humans. he slowed down his movements to edge himself, moaning your name and mumbling about how much he needs you, misses your tight cunt around him. he knows that if you were to be with him here right now, you'd get bratty and torture him, of course, only to get punished afterwards. but anyway.

“y/n.. princess, i wish you were here.”

“wouldn't you want to suck me off, hm?”

“i know you miss my cock.”

“a–ah, y/n”

“i'd rather cumming on your pretty tits than my own hands..”

“mmh. my slut. i miss you.”

and.. more of him yapping....

he let out his hungry groans as hips chased his hands, bucking and going after his climax. long ropes of cum covered his stomach, glistening and making an absurd shape, it was sad that you weren't there to lick him clean. he rested both of his hands on sides as he ride though the orgasm.

he stopped the recording with his clean hand and continued staring at the ceiling. proud of his actions (lol).

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

not proof read. © w--zii. do not repost.

[critterbitter]

I finally got all my brain ducks into enough of a row to send this! I just wanted to say that Tumblr recommended your art to me on a whim, and I am actually OBSESSED now lol. I had no prior investment in Submas or anything tangentially related to it prior to this (aside from liking Pokémon generally lol), but I couldn’t help but tear through everything you’ve drawn for these silly little rat children and I love them so much now!!! I wanna pick them up and shake him around like little action figures! The shenanigans and the heartfelt moments are just,, UGH so good! I have no words! Thank you for the food I am going FERAL over them <3

Your art is also high key goals for me now tbh. I absolutely ADORE your coloring and rendering style, and also they way you draw Pokémon in general?? Very animalistic but still recognizably Pokémon?? Literally galaxy brained. I’m going to SCREAM. I know you already posted a bit of your art process, but I’d love to know if you’ve got any rendering tips and/or how you get that clean but sketchy look. It looks so good I want to eat it lol.

(Also I really love the way you’ve been formatting Elesa’s dialog, with the extra lines around the letters. It really gives the vibe that her grasp on Galarian is currently shaky at best and idk, I like that you’ve managed to find a way to convey that over text. I think that’s pretty cool :D)

I SAW YOU REBLOG A WHOLE BUNCH AND IM,,, (throwing hearts at you)

Thank you so so much! I’m glad you love these terrible little guys wandering Unova just as much as I do, haha!

As a treat, lemme pull out some drafting for the mini illustrations. I usually start every snapshot with a run down of what I remember from the area, possible shenanigans encountered, and then a doodle of ideas to come.

From there, it’s a SUPER rough sketch, followed by lineart and rough color, and then cleanup!

(More thumbs and their finals below!)

At the end of the day, all my lines are VERY sketchy. I’m a lot stronger when it comes to mashing colors. That, and if you set your line layer from normal to multiply, the lines will always be automatically darker then whatever layer is placed underneath. It’s a trick used quite a bit for placing cel shadows in animation, but it’s useful for lineart in a pinch.

For colors, I like to stick to a limited pallet and branch out only after setting my primary colors. This entire series has been very experimental for me though, as you can probably tell.

As for the last bit— YES… YOU GET IT! As Elesa grows, the lines in her dialogue will start appearing less and less. It’s the little things that map the span of time for these guys.

Yippee!

[smoochhyuka]

omg can you do soobin nsfw alphabet? im in love with your taehyun work

AHHHHHH!! Thank you so much!! My first commissions, I am so excited I immediately started writing because I took the time to write rn anyway lol. I definitely plan on writing an NSFW alphabet for the other three as well, in the future, but I have three Riize drafts and one Tyun draft rn TT. Feel free to request the next member for the alphabet, or other stuff (prompts, MTL, etc...) for Riize and Tubatu, and I'll get to it as soon as I am able to!

Soobin NSFW alphabet

Baby baby baby baby boy

-> Yeonjun Beomgyu Taehyun Hueningkai

○o。content warnings! NSFW, fem!reader, mention of hair pulling, oral m! and f! receiving, lingerie, edging, perv!Soobin, sex toys, mention of anal (m! and f! receiving), mention of marriage, pussy hair, mention of bondage, very brief mention of derogatory language, edited for spelling

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Immediately asleep, knocks out like a light bulb. He barely manages to pull out and climb off of you, and he's done for. The issue is that you couldn't clean up, either, because he pulls you into a tight hug you can't escape from. More often than not, is condom falls off in the middle of the night because he left it on.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For himself, he really likes his hair, he thinks fluffy and a little longer hair compliments him so much. Another perk is how obsessed you are with it. The way you sometimes braid his hair while cuddling, how you ruffle it when you call him cute, the way you pull it when he eats you out...

The Soobie Boobie Toobie agenda strikes hard. He loves your boobs, doesn't matter if they're small or big, or if they may sag a little, he doesn't care, as long as you're pushing them up in a cute lace bra every time he takes you out for dinner, for him to look at. <3

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is very watery, almost completely transparent. He comes kinda... discretely? You never notice he is about to cum unless he tells you. Except for a little leg shake, his composure doesn't change, his breathing doesn't pick up, his pace doesn't increase, his groans don't get louder... He just busts, and you're left there, surprised, cum on your titties...

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He watched too many dirty animes and watched a few too many thirst traps during 2020 unfortunately... nothing turns him on more than the thought of you in a maid dress, bringing him tea and biscuits and sucking him off under the table, addressing him as Soobin-sama. Will take this dirty secret to his grave!!! (or you just go get drunk with him and ask him about his dirty secrets, will spill anything, guaranteed)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

No because maybe unpopular opinion but I think he had a girlfriend or two before you. It was never very serious, though, it was just a hormonal teen relationship to get away with fooling around a little bit. Therefore, there are a lot of things he hasn't tried yet.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes every position in which he can see a.) your tits and b.) your face. Missionary and cowgirl are the two top ones, doggy in front of a mirror is also fine and dandy.

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He tends to be on the more serious side, letting his hot guy persona show. If you're someone who cracks jokes, he will laugh at them, but don't expect any comments in return. He might tease you in a way that could potentially make you laugh, but it's not intentionally a joke. He tends to get more emotional, telling you sweet things or confessing his deeper feelings to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Tends to not care about shaving. He just lets it grow until it's too much for his liking, then he would shave it off completely in one go so he can, again, not care for a few weeks. After a few months of dating he will ask you, very shyly and very embarrassed, how you like it and will adapt from then on.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In all honesty, I don't see him to be intentionally romantic. He's not someone who lights candles or prepares a bubble bath every time you guys do it. He is unintentionally romantic, though, as already mentioned he turns quite sappy, being romantic in the way he talks to you or handles you. Always asks for consent when trying something new, checking up on you if you get quiet. <3

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

LOVES masturbating together, you two just sit in your bed, fully nude and watch the other. It feels so dirty to him, so intimate in a way regular sex just doesn't feel like. It's also a great way to edge as foreplay, the feeling of sinking into your drenching, sensitive pussy after half an hour of this is as close to entering heaven as it could possibly get.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think Soobin is kind of a closeted perv, he'd be into any sort of sex toy, be it for you or for him. If it's late at night, he's barely awake, but you're begging to have sex with him, he won't shy away from using a womanizer on you. The following is husband!Soobin territory right now, but he'd definitely enjoy having a vibrating plug up his ass while fucking you, or being tied up and being edged with a vibrator.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

It's not that he necessarily has an exhibitionism kink, or a specific preference for a place that is not the confinements of your bedroom, it's just that he doesn't care a lot? If he wants it, and you want it, and you're somewhere else, it's not going to stop him really.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Likes it if you're being bold with him. You can either ask him straight up (doesn't need to be phrased sexily, a simple "Let's fuck" is enough to grind his gears) or just walk around in something sexy or just fully nude, he'll follow you like a puppy. Just in general, gets horny when you're horny, and if you're not in the mood, he loses his motivation as well.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As already mentioned, he won't want to do it if you don't want to, he is not the type to try to change your mind or try to get you horny.

There are barely any no-gos with him, a perv like him will try most things if you're into them (he might even discover new kinks through you). It needs to be something seriously disgusting or illegal to be an instant no.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving by a tinie tiny bit, mainly because he can see your face and boobs while you give him head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He is fairly rough, fast and deep thrusts are the standard with him, especially at the beginning of your relationship. If you prefer it slower, you can tell him and he will adapt. It's just that he's excited, you feel so good, he can't help himself. <3 Even if you don't mention anything, he will get more slow and sensual overtime, especially as his feeling for you deepen.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

no.1 fan, the quickie invented itself for him, actually. Tied to what I mentioned during L, if you're both in the mood you'll do it, regardless of location OR your time limit. He's not afraid to be a little bit late to something to be able to pound into your pussy, so be it! Long sex is usually reserved for after dates or special situations, like an anniversary or if one of you is going through a tough time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Definitely a risk-taker, tied to my very personal perv!Soobin agenda. The worst thing that can happen is a moment of embarrassment and if the sex was good he'd gladly pay that price. The only thing he won't risk though is your relationship, e.g. he won't have a threesome with someone you are close to, or someone he knows has a crush on you. Or something that could hurt you physically (not talking about little bruises, an injury that could drive a wedge between you and him).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Doesn't have a lot of stamina! If he cums once, it's usually light out with this guy. Sometimes you can squeeze a second one out of him if you're determined, but that's it. He always makes sure that you cum lots, and that you have a good time before he does, because he knows he has bad stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Already mentioned this during K, but yeah, you own every toy in the book. If a new one is currently trending or even completely new on the market, he'll get it ASAP. Of course, you have your favorites that earned their spot in your nightstand, but the rest aren't necessarily collecting dust either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A little bit of a tease, might use some lightly derogatory language if you're into that, or denies you an orgasm (or two) but he's not mean in bed, he loves you too much and wants you both to enjoy it. (Besides, he prefers it if you tease him...)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Groaner! Grunter! Might even whine if you do it right, or if you have been edging for a while. He very rarely moans (aka only with a toy up his ass), therefore he isn't very loud. This beneficial since you fuck in the weirdest places.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a thing for pussy hair and thinks it's cute if you shave it in specific patterns or styles. His favorite was the heart you deliberately shaved for Valentine's Day. He also has a certain admiration for a full bush.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big. Monstrous. Humungus. I have a more detailed explanation here. Lots of foreskin and small balls in comparison.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly high, but he easily adapts to you. He isn't going to pass away if you go a week or two without it, but prefers to do it regularily and tends to miss it easily.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

immediately, snorring like zzzzz. He won't let you leave either, if you need to pee, hold it in!

[hunterbunter3000]

I know damn well gaz is a bottom you can't change my mind 😤

Like dis man makes the beautiful noises when sweetheart fucks him stupid with her fingers or a strap (I know sweetheart got a strap somewhere in her damn room) and he's a babbling mess like crying and moaning loud so sometimes sweetheart gotta use a gag or her fingers so no one hears (but the boys do hear em and they are really jealous and horny) *BANGS TABLE* AND WHEN he rides sweethearts strap this man HHHNNGGG this man will ride sweethearts strap until he collapses.

But sweetheart being sweetheart she does aftercare like running a hot bubble bath for gaz and picks him up and puts his body in and while gaz is in the bath sweetheart is cleaning the sheets and adding fluffly blanket for gaz and when gaz is done sweetheart picks him up and wraps him up in a fluffy towel and dries him up (because I know damn well gaz ain't gonna be walking for a bit)

And let's him wear her clothes that are pretty big on him like AHHHHH cuddles man this man will cling on to sweetheart while she's combing his wet hair HNNGGG and has falls asleep basking in sweethearts warmth.

(Why did I write this much?)

Soap definitely gonna be jelly 🤭

I'm going fuckin insane.

DO YOU WANT ME TO PASS OUT? IS THAT IT??

Good Boy.°

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick × 141!Sweetheart

[Gaz × black!ofc!reader]

Cw.: soft!femdom, overstimulation, dumbification, pegging, cock ring vibrator, handjobs, mommy kink, begging kink (is that a thing? Probably is idk 💀) mentions of scars, horrible attempt at smut, sub!Gaz, Lil bit of edging, praise + degradation, aftercare, cutie cutesy fluff, there's a surprise in here for Sweetheart 🤭 it'll be in pink, jealous ass brats teammates, listening to people getting it on (idk what that's called)

Reader accessories.: Black!fem!reader, she/her pronouns, detailed reader, reader is 6'5, reader is fully clothed fucking Gaz, reader has tattoos and battle scars, reader has long nails, reader has some big ass hands

Word count.: Long. AGAIN. (IDK HOW TO DO A WORD COUNT DAMMIT HELP)

This ain't the best thing 💀💀 but I had to GET THIS OUT IT WAS SITTING TOO LONG IN MY DRAFTS AND THIS ASK IS TOO GOOD AND W O W I RAMBLED ON FOR SO LONG BECAUSE IM NOT GOOD AT WRITING SMUT YET GIMME A BREAK OKAY IM TRYING MY BEST 😭 and i made this LATE like 5 am so i was shit tired and just rambled lol also tried out a new layout on how to do headcanons and drabbles... may like it may not idk ANYWAY ENJOY

18+ MDNI

Minors do not interact with this. Thank you BYE.

This man-- HEHEUAHE YOU'RE SO RIGHT ABOUT GAZ

He's such a bottom for Sweetheart. Like in general

He would always be so shy around her; his chin close to his chest, looking up at her with big eyes and hot ears

And Sweetheart would always eat that SHIT UP

She always has a burning, feral feeling inside her when he acts shy around her. Like she either needs to take care of him or fuck him senseless

And when he just gives into her, gulping before whimpering out a quiet "Yes ma'am." When she gives out an aggressive order.

SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPP

Sweetheart wants to take him where he stands EVERY 👏TIME 👏

Just jerking him off and seeing him whine and cry- AAAAAAAAA

Sweetheart should NOT think of him that way. That's her teammate. Her friend.

...which she wouldn't mind fucking and breaking his back. And she had enough of this overwhelming feeling everytime she talks to him. She thought he was shy because he was intimidated by her, or maybe because of the height difference (She's five and a half inches taller than him) or that he has a burning feeling inside of him too. Hell maybe it was all three, so she asks him.

It was all three 💀

But his feeling was to be fucked by Sweetheart. Not the other way around.

Sweetheart was in HEAVEEENNNNN

So we're back to the now, and it's been two hours, they're in her room; Gaz naked, bouncing on Sweetheart's pink thick strap, while she's controlling his cute cock ring vibrator. His legs wrapped around her hips, ass slapping against her thighs.

They're both sweaty, sticky, covered in cum and tired. But neither of them can stop. Gaz feels another orgasm building up, and he picks up his speed, wanting to reach it so badly that he cries. His moans get louder, more desperate.

"Fuck! Yes yes yes!" He screamed out, tears flowing out just like the cum spurting on Sweetheart's tummy. She breathes out, hands smoothing his hips. "There we go, Gaz. Good boy. Such a good cock slut for mommy." His thighs and hands shake, mouth spewing broken moans and whines. "More..." He starts to grind on the strap, as deep as it can go inside him. "M-more... please.. I wanna cum again-- wan' cum.. Mommy please!"

His babbles make Sweetheart laugh. "Your legs are probably so tired, baby. You want me to take over now?" He shivers when her pointed nails circle over his sensitive nipples. He leans down to her chest, hips still grinding on the toy and prodding at his prostate. “Yes… yes, please. Wanna be fucked by you. Ruin me, mommy…”

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT

Sweetheart feels her heartbeat quicken. The fire in her belly was getting hotter, too hot to control. She growls, manhandling Gaz off the toy to turn him around. She sits up, hands cupping his thighs as she raises her hips to slide back in. Gaz let’s out a long whine as he’s finally full again. Sweetheart doesn’t speak. Carnal desire took over her, her hips ramming into his ass as he screams out. Sweetheart rubs his bottom lip with her thumb before she inserts it in his drooling mouth. “You’re being too loud, hun. Don’t want the others to hear how much of a slut you are on my cock. Now suck on it.”

He sucks hard on her thumb, tongue swirling the pad. Her teeth grazing his neck, lips sucking on his sweaty skin. He’s trying to be quiet, but her thrusts are making him forget any sense he had left. Fuck and he’s almost about to cum, whines getting higher and eyes rolling back. Gaz gasps when Sweets slows down. “Nah-uh, not yet.” She coos. “I need you to beg for it, baby. Beg mommy to cum.” AAAAAAAAAAAA

She starts to grind in his g-spot and her other thumb rubbed his urethra. Babes he was seeing stars.

He can’t really speak as her thumb is still in his mouth, but he rambles on anyway, whimpering please over and over with his hoarse voice. (I have a feeling that Garrick’s voice goes up when he’s overstimulated) “Fuck, you’re so cute. Go ahead and cum for me, Gaz.” Once she picked up her pace and jerked him off, OH he saw the gate to heaven, had tea with an angel and got sent back to earth💀

They breathe heavily. He can't feel his legs at all, and he can't form an actual thought. Sweetheart puts her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "Breathe deep, Gaz. Breathe... There you go, that's my baby boy." They both sigh and she kisses his temple. "You did such a good job, Gaz. Such a good boy for me."

AND THE AFTER CARE OMFGGG (YK THATS ON POINT)

She would hold him close to her chest, their breathing finally in sync as Gaz calms down from his orgasm. He's still moaning and mewling, feeling the pleasure in his veins. Sweetheart looks down at him and sighs with a smile. "You okay baby?" She asks him.

He's still kinda out of it, but her voice brings him back to reality. "Mhgm... M'good. M'so good, mommy..." She giggles at his drunken words and kisses his neck. "That's good to hear. I'm gonna pull it out, okay?" He nods his head. She grips under his knees and slowly pulls him up, Gaz whimpering at the emptiness of his puckering hole. She pecks his cheek and lays him down. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He breathes out, feeling sticky and hot. He groans out and puts his hands over his eyes. He can NOT believe that just happened. HE JUST FUCKED HIMSELF NUMB?? AND SWEETHEART FUCKED HIM DUMB?? AND SHE'S GOOD AT IT??? How in the hell can he do this but not TELL HER HOW HE FEELS OMFG

She comes back from the bathroom in a white towel. Gaz chokes, seeing the black intricate designs on her arms, connecting to the ones on her collarbone and traveling to her back. He can see black ink on her ankles and some poking out on her hips. She chuckles, "You've never seen my other tattoos, have you?" He shakes his head slowly, like he's in a trance. "I've only... Seen your womb one..." Sweetheart snorts, walking towards him. "Well, you're about to see a bit more."

She scoops him up in her arms, bridal style. Gaz gasps and instinctively wraps his arms around Sweetheart's neck, now secure and being delivered to the bathroom.

Gaz sees that there's a bubble bath ready for the both of them. She sets him down inside, the warm water helping his aching limbs. He sees her towel fly off, looks up, but her fingers snap, and his head immediately whips to the bubbles. "Good boy." She says. (Gaz's mind:FFFUUUUU--)

She slips in behind him and sighs of relief. Gaz clears his throat. "This is uh... it's a pretty tight fit." His shoulder up and caved with his legs half way bent. "Do you want me to get out?" Sweetheart asks. "No!" She chuckles at his quick answer. She leans in, making him gasp as he can feel her hard nipples on his back. And... something else. Metal? Her arms wrap around him while her head rests on his shoulder. "Good. Don't wanna get out yet." She mumbles.

God-- Gaz feels so small with her. Like a shy little man and a giant Amazonian goddess. He can feel his cheeks get hot. Taking one of her hands in his, he lifts it up, eyeing her sleeve tattoo like a kid in an aquarium. He studies it while she watches him. "Y'like it?" She mumbles in his ear that sends shivers down his spine. He nods, his other hand tracing the patterns. "Where did you get it done?" He asks in a low tone, like they're both in a secret place that they're not supposed to be in.

"Back at home. For my 20th birthday. I got this whole piece done for my 20th, actually." She raises her other arm up to show him, his hands going over the different textured skin. "Did you... get tattoos to cover these scars?" When he asked that question, it's like all the sound in the world stopped. He felt like coal dropped in his stomach when she was silent. He was going to speak, to apologize, but she interlocked her hands with his. "I did. There are many tattoos on my body because I didn't want to see my mistakes anymore. So I covered them up."

He breathes out. Thank God she's not mad. But just to be sure-- "And don't you dare apologize." She smiles on his skin, nibbling his neck. He snickers, feeling her kisses all over.

"Wow." She chortles, "Never noticed how small your hands are to mine." He hums, seeing the difference too. (It shouldn't turn him on but wow there he is turned on)

She opens her hands and so does he. The size difference goes crazy 💀 Sweetheart's hand is an inch bigger than his. She laughs, now leaning back on the tub. "You're so small."

Gaz scoffs, turning to her with a frown. "I am not small! You're just really--"

His eyes fall to her chest. He didn't mean to, it just happened. But he looks at her left breast.

And he sees it.

And he sees it.

"You... you have a nipple piercing."

"Huh?" Sweetheart looks down. "Oh shit, I forgot I had that on. But yeah, I do. Just the one, though. Hurt like a bitch, so I just stopped at this." She explains. Gaz can feel him getting hard again. The sparkly, rose gold heart ring shield around her dark nipple was fucking calling out to him.

He frowns. "But I never... see it." Sweetheart's eyes widen a bit but turns to amusement. "You lookin' at my tits often, Gaz?" She says. Gaz snaps his head up, like he's seen a ghost. She leans in, their lips almost touching. She coos, eyes dangerously low and lips grinning. "Didn't know you were the perverted type."

Someone kill him now. He shakes his head violently. "Oh god no! No no no no I was just--" Now he was stammering, trying to find the right words to say to not sound like a creep. But Sweetheart bellows.

"Chill, baby! I was just messin' with ya." She winks at him, and Gaz just wants to curl up in a ball. "But I remove it when I go out so I can wear a bra. Sometimes, I honestly forget about it. 'Specially when we're on a mission or I'm training. And I don't think piercings are allowed on base... so I dont really wear it alot." Gaz nods. That makes alot of sense. She covers her mouth and looks away, mumbling something under her breath.

"And I also don't want Krueger startin' nothin'..." He frowns. "Huh?" Sweetheart looks at him and waves him off. "Nothin' , nothin'."

She huffs, staring at Gaz for what felt like hours. But he didn't move, as he stared right back. Heart beating quick for her next move.

Her hand moves under her left breast and lifts it with a smug grin. "Wanna take a closer look?"

That triggered another three rounds of milking and nipple sucking 💀 (which Sweetheart is now HEAVILY into)

After all that, they both cleaned themselves, and Sweetheart dried him off (because he couldn't feel his legs AGAIN) she carried him and plopped him on her desk chair. He huffs out a laugh. "I feel like a princess, being carried and pampered like this." BECAUSE YOU ARE BABY

She snorts and rolls her eyes, putting on some clothes and gathering the bed sheets. "Wear whatever I have. There's some men's underwear in the bottom drawer." She explains. Gaz quirks an eyebrow. "Why do you have men's underwear?" She shrugs, hands full with bed sheets and a comforter. "For emergencies." And then walks out to the washing machine.

Gaz chuckles, shaking his head as he opens her drawers. Some with bras, some with her underwear (it's in the second drawer, he remembers) and he found one with shirts. He grabs a cream colored sweater and unfolds it, seeing how big it actually is. "Jesus... I'll surely act like a 'girl after doing the deed' with this on." He contemplates if he wants to wear it. (He does)

He puts on some black men's underwear, which surprisingly fits him (bit tight around his thighs) he throws the sweater on and looks in her floor mirror. The sweater covers his underwear completely, and the sleeves are big and long, covering most of his fingers. The collar is wide, showing off his branded neck with many hickies. Sweetheart's hickies. He purses his lips.

"Yeah, I definitely looked like I've been fucked."

"Because you have been, silly."

He turns to the door and sees Sweetheart with new sheets and comforters. Gaz blinks. "That was fast." Sweetheart hums, closing the door with her hip. "I found new sheets in the storage. I'll clean the other ones tomorrow. Right now, I'm tired as shit." She makes the bed with ease as Gaz stands there, trying not to fall with his shaky legs. (Yall he was WORKED in that bath tub)

She dusts off her hands as her head turns to Gaz. She freezes, eyeing him up and down. Gaz feels like a piece of meat under her hungry eyes. He doesn't mind being eaten by her 🤭🤭

She smirks, plopping down on the bed. "I like my clothes on ya."

He grins, arms wide out to show how big the sweater is on him. "I'm like a smurf compared to you." He jokes. Sweetheart laughs, collecting him with her arms circling his waist and his hands rest on her broad shoulders. "But it makes ya look real cute, Gaz." She says with another smirk. (Jeez, she's on one today-- freaking teasing and bold as shit)

He could feel his cheeks getting hot. "Kyle." He murmurs, sitting on her thigh. He has a tingly feeling when he bends his legs, but nothing he can't handle. She looks at him with confused eyes.

"You took my ability to walk, so I think you could also call me by my actual name." He explains. She smiles at him, making his heart speed up. That smile could stop wars.

"Alright then, Kyle." Once she said that, her eyes sparkled. "Kyle." She hums, kissing his neck. "Kyle... Mister Kyle Garrick!" She covers him in quick kisses, making him giggle and filled with warmth. She laughs and holds him tight when she flops on the clean bed. "Kyle. I love saying your name." She whispers, fingers tracing his face. God DAMN she has his heart. His everything. Just- take him. Take all of him. So he can end this longing.

"And I--" Gaz reaches up to her face, thumb tracing her bottom lip.

Say it.

"I love..." His eyes flicker to hers, dark irises studying each other.

Say it. Fucking say it.

I love you. I love you and I want to be yours.

Say. It.

"Love... what you did... for me today. Thank you." ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

She giggles, pulling him into her more, his head against her chest. "Of course, baby. It was an absolute pleasure... pleasuring you." They both quietly laugh, the warm relaxation molding them together. Her nails rake the nape of his neck, sending shivers down Kyle's spine. He sighs, wrapping his arms around her chest and leg around her waist. "Goodnight, mommy."

Sweetheart croons, hand rubbing his back. "Goodnight, Kyle." She mumbles into his hair as she kisses it.

"My good boy."

Lil Bonus.!

When I tell you... that EVERYONE. WAS P I S S E D. Except for Price, because his room is pretty far, so he can't hear all the way to Sweetheart's room. BUT THE REST OF THEM??? WTF they wanted to strangle Gaz istg

Hearing the bed creak and Gaz's loud, whiny moans thru the walls was PAIN. And hearing Sweetheart's low grunts and praises to him? Torture. Bitch it was torture. And you know DAMN WELL that Soap, Roach, and Horangi jerked off from hearing them. Ghost, König, and Alex were too fucking pissed to do anything, even sleeping wasn't an option. (They still had raging hard ons tho) Roach hearing Gaz call her mommy-- AND SHE LIKED IT-- he came so hard he had to muffle his cry with a pillow. Soap now knowing that Gaz is the one getting fucked?? And is enjoying it??? Nosebleed. He got a nosebleed and had to stop masturbating to clean it up💀 Horangi overstimulated himself. Ear up on the wall so he could hear everything that was going on, and his overworked cock spurting out more cum on the wall. There's a thick puddle of cum on the floor as well because he's not stopping. Alex is just pissed that he's not watching them (he likes to watch fucking cuck) and Ghost is just so damn salty and judging everything that's going on in that room ("his moans are so bitchy. Bitch boy. Fucking bottom ass fucker. Taking it up the ass. I could do way better than him taking it up the ass..... wait--")

König was just... listening. Just laying in his bed, looking up at the ceiling with a throbbing, dribbling cock, and just listening to them. (WEIRDO)

Next morning, Soap and Ghost were such BITCHES OMFG Soap was so pouty and had such attitude, and Ghost was so DRAMATIC (THEY'RE BOTH BRATS YOUR HONOR)

Okay that's it, bye LOL

THANKS FOR READING HAVE A GOOD DAY 🙏 LIKE COMMENT SHARE AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE (I just youtube'd yo ass 🤭)

[shuuen-no-cimory]

Also of course, it ain't me if I don't crossover my current hyperfixation with my ultimate current hyperfixation. So... Degrees of Lewdity x ProjectMoon! (This post is full of me yapping as I explain each drawing, so I guess, be ready?)

First, I'll go hard with Whitney as R Corp. 4th Rabbit Team. The initial idea was that he reminds me so much of RHeath LMAO But eventually I love the idea because I think he'd go along with Myo well. Plus... Somehow imagining Whitney in Rabbit Team Hatchery shenanigans seems... Interesting.

Next is Eden. If anyone notice, I originally designed him based of 2 Abnos: Der Freischutz and Big Bird. Der Frei was, of course, a nod to his title as a Hunter, and a marksman as well. For Big Bird... Yeah definitely there's the Big Bird in DoL, yet I think temperance-wise, Eden does felt similar to Big Bird. A creature living in a forest, thinking they protect others by doing the action that definitely doesn't seems to be out of protection. As for RRH, oh think about this: Being hunted down while getting marked. One by a hunter, and another by a wolf. Oh isn't it just reminds me of something...? Right

Funny enough, before I designed the school LIs properly, I reimagined them as The City's feathers. "If they're living in the City and has to work with one Wing, which one they'll work on?" I've talked about R. Corp Whitney earlier so I'll talk about the others! Robin, L Corp. - I can imagine him with the pressing needs to survive under the weight of Bailey's rent ends up either being sent or signed himself up as an agent for L Corp. The Wing doesn't ask that much requirement as per Hokmah's story while the agent supposed to have a great pay (being a wing and all). Hence, I think he might work for L Corp. Sydney, K Corp. - The idea was that after graduating, Sydney might follow Sirris path in science. Being the obedient child she is (as we sees on the game before they get corrupted), she probably choose to do what Sirris might do hence her as K Corp. researcher. Oh anyway, truly this is just a fyi that doesn't seems to be related to anything, I reimagined Harper as Dongrang in this scenario, with the whole Teary-Thing problem exist. Oh, lucky enough for Sydney to help producing K Ampule that definitely just as seen in the canon Limbus story. Just saying. Kylar, W Corp. - This one actually a rather fun idea. This is set with the idea that Kylar work as the Clean Up Member, with parents that's definitely unaware with how their child work but nevertheless proud with him. They'd even use WARP Train solely to be sent off by Kylar each time, much to Kylar silent dismay. If only they know what Kylar has to clean up among the 6 seconds they went into the train... Read one of the reblog tag and yeah. It has to do with Love Town. And pretty much how Kylar had to regularly assemble his parents again and again each trip they made.

LCB! SYDNEY LET'S GOOOO!!!! This idea came as I made my LCB-esque ID Card for Sydney. The idea of LCB Sydney's background was that it's pretty much what happened in the game, but make it The City-esque and seen from Sydney's eyes. It's fun imagining her as a Dieci Fixer who was caught in a complicated issue which she rather dip out from as she hasn't fully grow the backbone to face it yet. Oh right, in this AU I reimagined Ivory as Abnormality and both Sydney and Kylar got their EGO. Sydney got their Longing Phase EGO (HE, Gloom) while Kylar got the Haunting Phase EGO (WAW, Wrath). I actually had a draft of how the EGO works and its gimmick but let's talk it later on lol

When Yield My Flesh event is up on Limbus, my head doing the funny by thinking, "Damn... Jun Wren sounds cool..." then I remember Tingtang exist like jfgdjfgbjd HE FITS BETTER AS TINGTANG WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT IT ON A SIDE NOTE, I also had the thought on how Bailey MIGHT kills it as either a Kurokumo or a Middle. After all, Middle never forget... Just like how Bailey never forget your rent LOL

And last but not least: Sydney and Robin as L Corp. Agent! Robin will be a high Temperance agent which work for Safety Team, while Sydney is the high Fortitude, high Prudence Disciplinary Team Captain. Oh, if you do notice: I made Sydney's cross looks like Penitence EGO Weapon. It's actually based of this idea of how One Sin and WhiteNight's dynamic thematically fits Sydney the Faithful and Sydney the Fallen. The name of both Abnos' EGO Set-- "Penitence" and "Paradise Lost" respectively, both fits the image of each Sydneys. Hence, I draw them in both EGO Sets!

[mangekyuou]

Hi there~

I just finished reading your rules and you're a UNI STUDENT? Lmao me too, I'm majoring in English literature 🙃 yeah i know it's an old-man choice 😭 but at least I enjoy it~

So can i request a NSFW alphabet for my boy Benn?

I don't see a lot of content for him and he's sooo sooooo handsomeee and attractive.

I hope you have a nice day~

⟡    ֺ   𓂂  nsfw alphabet  ,  benn beckman.

✸     cw(s)! . . .  nsfw. gn!reader. me being a beckman stan. not proofread. minors DNI.

✸     notes! . . .  hi !! that's so cool you're majoring in english literature !! i was always interested in literature, but i could just never sit down and read or try to analyze anything. it was never my strong suit lol. so kudos to you !! thank you for requesting !! <33

!! i would also like to say that i don't really do nsfw alphabets, but i have made an exception for this one and the other one in my drafts bcuz i didn't state it earlier. PLUS i'm a beckman and shanks stan lmaooo

A — AFTERCARE. [ what they’re like after sex. ]

aftercare is truly his favorite part. he takes his time carefully getting you all cleaned up and comfortable. benn is definitely a cuddlebug :>. he loves cuddling with you after sex. there's nothing better than laying down next to you, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his chest, kissing your head, and falling into the world of dreams.

B — BODY PART. [ their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s. ]

he hasn't thought much about himself. he doesn't even really have an answer at first. but he thinks his arms are nice. all the more strength to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

benn loves ALL of you. don't ask him to pick a favorite part of you. he refuses to give you one answer, no matter how much you beg him. unless you start to pout, his ultimate weakness. he loves your thighs. he's a thigh and ass guy. nine times out of ten, you know he's in the mood just by how long he's touching your thighs

C — CUM. [ anything to do with cum. ]

he loves filling you to the brim with his cum, watching it slowly leak out of you only to use his thick fingers or his dick to stuff it back inside. all with a "be a good baby and hold it for me, yeah?"

D — DIRTY SECRET. [ self-explanatory. ]

nothing runs through his mind like you in a maid outfit since you wore one as punishment for losing a card game. the red-haired pirates are so damn cruel. the image has never left his head, and along with it came his dirty thoughts

the thought of you bending over to better reach a spot to dust, the short skirt of your tight uniform riding up to show off your ass. the thought of your purposely spilling something on him to get him out of his clothes. the thought of you on your knees in front of him, eagerly awaiting his next command, asking him how you may be of assistance. fuck he needs you in a maid outfit so bad

E — EXPERIENCE. [ how experience are they? do they know what they’re doing? ]

benn has been around the block many of times. he has plenty of experience. i wouldn't call him a hoe...but he's had quite a few lovers in the past. mostly one night stands. he knows what he's doing and how to pleasure you

F — FAVORITE POSITION. [ self-explanatory. ]

he's a pretty classic man. he loves the cowgirl(boy) position. there's nothing that makes him cum harder than you riding him to your heart's content. oh and please do wear a cowboy hat, treat him like cattle, call him a few names, he's putty in your hands. when he comes, put your hat over his pretty face

G — GOOFY. [ are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? ]

benn is very talkative in the bedroom. he's always talking, whether it's praising you or his favorite teasing you. hell, there are even some moments where he's so unserious. telling you about some stupid shit that happened on the red force that day, while kissing down your chest. or when he's settled deep inside of you, not moving, and will stop to have a full-on conversation. like what are you doing ??

H — HAIR. [ how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? ]

it's wild and grey. his pubes are a little wavy. he doesn't particularly care much about shaving. now if you ask him to trim up a little, he will definitely do so and will make it a habit

I — INTIMACY. [ how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect? ]

benn is a very romantic man. there is not a single time when he doesn't make you seem like the luckiest person in the world. he puts his ALL into loving and cherishing you. he takes his time with you. worshipping your body from head to toe, not missing an inch. bringing you to your high again and again, singing praises to you, how well you're doing, how much he loves you

J — JACK OFF. [ masturbation headcanon. ]

benn doesn't jack off as much as he did when he was younger. the times when he is in the mood, you are usually not too far and more than happy to help. however for the few times, you aren't around, he's sitting slouched in a chair in your shared room, his hair all over his face, he was anything but his usual calm and collected self. shallow breaths and low whispers of your name leave his lips, as he desperately tries to reach his high, imagining his hand as yours

K — KINK. [ one or more of their kinks. ]

he definitely has a praise kink. even before the two of you got together, you likely picked up on his praise kink. he loves the effect it has on you. role play, he's a freaky old man. as i said earlier, he loves the thought of you in a maid outfit, this definitely extends to other things. sexy secretary, sexy nurse, you name it. HE'S WAY INTO HIS ROLE. especially if you're taking a dominant role ?? WHEW

L — LOCATION. [ favorite places to do it. ]

he's not all that into public sex. does not want anyone else to see you, other than that one time. he prefers to keep your sexy times in the bedroom. nothing beats your bed

M — MOTIVATION. [ what turns them on, gets them going? ]

it doesn't take much to get him going. you could just wrap your arms around his waist from behind, and kiss up his shoulder, and he's all yours for the evening. or when you smack his ass and run down the hall. he swears he hates it, but who is he kidding? when he does catch up to you, you're in for it

N — NO. [ something they wouldn’t do, turn offs. ]

anything that could possibly hurt you. nope. never. nada. zilch. he can't do it. he couldn't do humiliation either. anything that is not making you feel amazing and beautiful, he's not doing

O — ORAL. [ preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc. ]

definitely a giver and is the fucking best at it. he prides himself on his ability to make you cum multiple times with his mouth alone. he could spend hours between your legs if you'd let him. hooking his strong arms around your legs, you're not going anywhere until he's had his fill. but you'll be a good baby and take it, won't you?

running your hands through his grey locks only encourages him further. your moans and breaths are a melody he'd never get tired of hearing

he does love seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. he loves when you take your time, licking up a stride up his shaft, the tip of your tongue circling the blushing red head of his tip, before slowly taking him into your mouth. eye contact the entire time !! he loves that shit

P — PACE. [ are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc. ]

benn is definitely more on the slow and sensual side. he wants you to feel him, every inch of him enter you as he fills you to the brim every time he thrusts into you. and he wants to feel all of you, as he closes his eyes and stuffs his face into your shoulder, alternating between leaving open-mouth kisses and love bites

Q — QUICKIE. [ their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. ]

he's not a quickie guy. maybe when he was younger but quickies don't satisfy him anymore. it doesn't give him the chance to fuck you properly

R — RISK. [ are they game to experiment, do they take the risks, etc. ]

he'll experiment for you. he'll willing to try some things at least once if you'd like to try them. however, it's not likely to suggest something. he knows what he likes and what he doesn't, he's not sure that's really going to change at this point

S — STAMINA. [ how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? ]

benn can go for a few rounds, which are not usually his plan. he usually plans for one long round. but the cuddle session after the first round a lot of the time turns into another around. he's not complaining though. give him a little smoke break and he's back at it

T — TOY. [ do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves? ]

he doesn't have a problem with toys, he just doesn't really use them. he prefers using his own equipment if you catch my drift. but he definitely doesn't mind using them on you if you asked

U — UNFAIR. [ how much they like to tease? ]

now he doesn't see it as teasing. but it's definitely teasing. his teasing is very playful. the way he just walks up to you at the poker table and whispers what he's going to do to you tonight if you win...and he expects you to sit there and be calm. you better win.

or when you sit in his lap and his large calloused hands caress your thighs, inching closer and closer to your core. he notices the way you take in a sharp breath, only to stop touching you altogether. he knows exactly what he's doing and what effect he has on you

V — VOLUME. [ how loud they are, what sounds they make. ]

benn is not quiet by any means. he's very talkative in the bedroom. always teasing you or giving you praise. he is an occasional groaner. groaning your name and swears into your ear

W — WILD CARD. [ random headcanon. ]

shanks has definitely watched you and benn fuck before. it was one time and it'll never happen again. now the captain of the red haired pirates did nothing wrong, at first. the next day, roo had asked shanks where he disappeared off to and he made a joke saying "watching the taming of a stubborn bull", earning a laugh from you. he is no longer allowed to watch

X — X-RAY. [ what’s going on under those clothes. ]

listen to me and listen to me well. definitely a shower, not a grower. 7-8 inches, slightly curved to the right and upwards. uncut. above average girth. a few veins, but there's one very prominent long vein that stretches from the underside of his dick all the way around to the top. slightly darker than the rest of his body BUT there are lighter patches of skin on and around his tip

Y — YEARNING. [ how high is their sex drive? ]

don't really see his drive being that high. definitely lower than average. but hey, he's not gonna say no to some sweet lovemaking.

Z — ZZZ. [ how quickly they fall asleep afterwards? ]

aftercare is literally his favorite part, so you bet it's going to be a while before he actually falls asleep. he has to get you all cleaned up and comfortable. finally, he pulls you in for cuddles. he waits until you're asleep before falling asleep himself

© MANGEKYUOU  —  do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog 37 | 1.29.24 ๋࣭⭑

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Hope the holiday season and the new year have been treating you all well <3 I've been hard at work this past month to get the revamped demo out to you all soon, so let's jump right into things ^^

This past month, most of my writing has been focused on the revamped demo, finishing Etza's first draft, and Druk's developmental edits.

The revamped demo is FINISHED w writing edits!!!! That honestly took way more time than I thought, but because I wrote the demo basically two years ago at this point, a lot of my writing style has changed. So while some people might think it is an unnecessary time sink, it was important for me to rewrite the scenes I could so that it felt like it accurately portrayed how the routes are looking. And, because my writing skills are better than basically 0, which is where I was starting when I first wrote the demo, I can better write a script that's closer to my vision of the game.

....So THAT ended up taking a while!!! BUT I finished that this month, which was a huge accomplishment to me and I feel much happier with the Alaris script than before, where I kinda... well, hated it. LOL

In-Game Sneak Peek: New Choices HEHEHE

Etza's draft is making good progress. I'm JUST ABOUT done with their first draft YAY!!! As I mentioned before, writing for the full game routes will be a bit slower for now since I'm now balancing more game stages than before (like coding, sprites, etc.). But I was pretty happy with Etza's progress this month since it does feel like the finish line is pretty close for their first draft ^^

And then Druk's edits are just about wrapping up!! Wudgey and I have been having lots of fun with Druk's route, and it's shaped up to be a personal favorite just because of how enjoyable the editing process has been, so I hope you all are excited for it!

For art, I've gotten some more backgrounds commissioned from Vui for the full game. I also decided to update the prologue art for the demo and commissioned dear friend @saffein-e for some prologue art and..... WELL..... SHE'S STUNNING. I'll let the prologue preview speak for itself HEH

In-Game Preview: New Prologue feat. New Art and Fade-in Text Effect

I'm so happy with it, and in general seeing the demo come together with all the new assets has been RRRRGGGHHH!!!!! I've coded most of the screens by now, but I don't want to show them all quite yet. I'll show one preview of the new communicator screens.

Communicator Feature: Texting (left) and Phone Calls (right)

First is the texting screen, and then I also updated the phone call screen! The sprites now not only emote (kinda like video call vibes), but they also auto-highlight based on who is talking!

Most of my miscellaneous stuff has to do with coding the demo. I've been doing a LOT of backend coding to make the game more polished. First is the example above with the communicator phone call feature. Without getting too into coding jargon, it basically is like a new version of the normal sprites so that it feels more interactive, with seeing the characters emote while talking to you, and has the auto-highlight function so that it is clear who is talking during a phone call!

I'm adding more camera work to the demo, more vfx/sfx to make things more immersive, and overall just adding a lot of polish to the game. It's been a lot of work, since it's involved adding alternative textboxes, cleaning up old code, revamping things (like sprites and other images), etc. But it's been worth it to see everything come together!

In-Game Preview: Pop-up Codex now instead of separate screen!

I'm hoping the beta demo can be done by the end of this week or next, so if you all would like access to it, please feel free to subscribe to my Patreon for this upcoming month! Highest tier gets access to beta builds for $10 <3

Finally, In other news, I DID release Intertwine: Another Life this month LMFAOOO

If you haven't gotten a chance to play it, please do! There's almost double the amount of script content. I've been doing an awful job of promoting it since I've been in the coding trenches. But I do appreciate the reception so far!! It was honestly bigger than I thought it would be, and I'm always so grateful for everyone's support ^^ Very happy you all liked the extra bit of content with Van <33333

For market research, I didn't do anything this past month. I DID play Date with Death in December and had massive brainrot from it. In fact, I made two fanarts of little Grimmy LMFAOOOO.

I'm sure most of you have played it, but if you haven't this is your sign to go play it. It's a free game and the amount of polish and features in it are crazy, so please show the dev team some love!!!

Hoping to have the revamped demo out soon, and the beta demo out even sooner. Hope you all have a great rest of your month, and I'll talk to you soon! <3

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday everyone!! Thanks for the tags @blackberrysummerblog and @artsyunderstudy!!

This week I’ve done the big three: writing, editing, and ignoring my wips, with perhaps a bit more of the last one than I’d like. Most of my writing this week has been for an exchange fic for a different fandom, which I finally finished the rough draft of. Cue the celebration. However, even if I wanted to share anything from that, I can’t, it must remain hush-hush, but I am getting pretty excited to share it (and way more excited about receiving my own exchange fic back, this whole thing is very fun).

I’ve written less than 300 words on my COBB this week, and none of them are good, but I have gotten some editing done of Proof of Life. I can’t share any more snippets of the next chapter though because I’ve shared too much already. So instead, I figured I’d do a bit of a process post this time around, because I always love reading those. Check that out under the cut! (and i'm sorry this is long, i still have not learned brevity)

So my editing process isn’t too crazy, and is brought to you almost entirely by google docs comments. I also use the word ‘editing’ very loosely to encompass rewriting, revising, and proofreading. Sometimes editing means completely rewriting a scene/section, sometimes it just means switching around a couple of words or cleaning up a sentence. 

Mostly, I try not to take everything so seriously, because I know that I could edit something forever and ever and never post it if I let myself get too carried away. So I try to keep everything pretty chill. So here’s my steps I go through for each chapter that I edit. 

Step One: Reread the whole chapter. While I do this, I’ll leave comments on big picture things. “Maybe move this scene into the next chapter” or “The dialogue in this scene feels stilted” but I don’t add a lot of comments at this point. Once I’m done with this I’ll copy over any comments I had on the first draft or the beta reader copy over into the ‘draft two’ document. 

Step Two: COMMENTS. Again, my fics are brought to you by google doc comments. I like to go through from the bottom up, reading scene by scene and leaving comments on pretty much every single sentence. 

A lot of the time (read: most of the time) these are really vague like:

And sometimes these are more detailed like:

And occasionally these are compliments

Step Three: Once the whole chapter is filled with comments, I go through scene by scene (in whatever order speaks to me), and rewrite, edit, or fix sections. This part I find really fun, because I’m taking parts that aren’t good yet and I’m making them better. I love fixing things and getting rid of all the comments. It typically ends up being a lot of  rewriting, but I always finish a scene feeling better about it then when I started.

For example, here’s the draft one vs. draft two version of a snippet from the first chapter of Proof of Life. This is one of the scenes I pretty much rewrote. Others look a lot more similar to their original versions.

Original:

Edited:

Step Four: Then before I post a chapter, I’ll read through the whole thing and sometimes find smaller bits to fix. Then I’ll run it through a grammar checker and ignore half of their suggestions in the name of ✨style ✨.

Overall, I feel like I have a pretty basic editing strategy and I’m really pleased with it. Even though sometimes I feel like more robust edits would make everything way better, it’s a good mix of fixing things but not spending too much time on it. I remember I spent like a month on editing the very first fic I posted at that was only 6k words. If I kept doing that for everything, I'd never post anything at all. With fanfiction, I know that y'all will be nice to me even though it's never perfect <333

Tags and Hellos!! (I'm unsure if we still need the spaces, but i've been burned too many times lol)

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @m1ndwinder @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee

@onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16

@thewholelemon @monbons @shrekgogurt @brendughh @hertragedyconnoisseur

@beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs

@fiend-for-culture @rimeswithpurple @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife

@arthurkko @rbkzz @skeedelvee @bookish-bogwitch @brilla-brilla-estrellita

[spongebob-connoisseur]

Guess what I got! The recording scripts for all of the episodes of Spongebob season 13!! Gang gang

I got it from some guy from YouTube. He said this was leaked on internet archive and Nick tried to scrub it clean off the interwebz. He managed to salvage some and he gave me a link. His account was gone before I had an opportunity to say thank you, so now I have it. I'm sharing it here because idgaf if my account gets taken down lol. But also no one checks tumblr anyways.

I made sure to print out the Slappy Daze recording script because idgaf about the other episodes tbh. I only care about my beloved Peter Lorre fish's day in the limelight <3 I put it in this plastic slip and keep it in a nice binder. It's my most prized possession besides Slappy's character sheet. I also have the Squidferatu script as well.

To be honest a lot of these scripts are pretty similar to the final product of the episode. There are some minor differences like Slappy wasn't originally in the script for There Will Be Grease. Instead it was supposed to be some nerdy fish asking if everything juice will make him sound more manly. Bless whoever snuck Slappy in there because you all remember me tweaking for a week when the episode came out because I was so happy Slappy got a part in the song lol.

Also the episode Upturn Girls was originally titled City Cetaceans.

Slappy Daze is pretty near identical to the final product tbh. Nothing really changed besides a few words. I am fascinated by the fact that the first draft is dated as being July 30th 2021. By that point I already fully and completely developed Slappy brain worms and was already considering watching Lorre's movies to get my fix cuz the airings of the Patrick show were frustrating. Ahh the good ol days <3

I also do believe Slippy (Slappy's female counterpart) was made for Slappy Daze originally though. The episode gives a physical description of Slippy which makes me think she just made for the moment. I think she was added to Mid-Season Finale in The Patrick Star Show episode afterwards but Mid-Season Finale aired first. Nickelodeon actually did mess up with this episode and released it on DVD before it officially aired. Now the pieces are coming together. This is only interesting to me lol.

Spongebob fans are such h8rs fr. Where else would you find THE original dreamy haired emo boy Cesare the Somnanbulist working as an assistant for the primary care physician fish Dr. Caligari? I would LOVE for Cesare to rid me of my allergies😤😤

Squidferatu actually has the most differences between the script and the final product. Plus plenty of interesting details. Squidferatu actually has two scripts, part one and part two.

The first and most important detail to me is the fact that Slappy is still named "Laszlo". You've seen Slappy's character sheet where it mentions he was formerly named "Laszlo" (obviously a reference to Peter Lorre's birth name Laszlo Löwenstein).

But in the Squidferatu scripts you can actually find the EXACT moment where his name changes from Laszlo to Slappy. It all has to do with one specific gag.

These both are the same scene. The left side is from Squidferatu part 1 and the right is Squidferatu part 2.

I do think they absolutely fumbled the name Laszlo. There are enough cartoon characters named Slappy. Laszlo is much much cuter and brings the Lorre reference full circle but oh well.

I also keep forgetting to mention but the villager in Squidferatu who begs Spongebob and Squidward not to go to the castle was intended to be the same villager in the 1931 Dracula who warns Renfield, who actually was based on a villager from the 1922 Nosferatu who warns Thomas Hutter. This character respawned in 3 different pieces of media. I think he's the true star of this episode lol.

There is also the fact that carriage driver in Squidferatu is confirmed to be Nosferatu! I feel like this fact is obvious enough if you're familiar with Dracula media (1922 Nosferatu, 1931 Dracula, or even just reading the book) the count is always the carriage driver duh

Also the fact that in this episode he hisses like a vampire, is strangely humanoid, and briefly has the Nosferatu™ eyebrows which fully gives it away. Unfortunately the folks on the SB wiki do not agree >:((

The first time I saw the carriage driver I said "ohh he kinda bad" and you know what? I'm not retracting my statement. He IS a baddie. I'm tired of lying to myself otherwise.

Anyways this caused me to come up with a headcanon that Nosferatu is broke and likely does not pay Slappy. I mean that explains why Nos has taken on shifts at the Krusty Krab, but also explains why Slappy is working 2 jobs in The Patrick Star Show. I imagine property taxes on a castle really drains a vampire's family fortune. I'm getting off topic.

There are some extra gags that didn't make it into the episode.

There's also the fact that we've been robbed of Erik from the Phantom of The Opera giving the audience a cute wink uwu

[goosewriting]

Make me a caf

summary: Hux seemingly wants to keep you around after you fix his caf machine.

relationship: Armitage Hux x GN reader

warnings: (18+) making out, sexual tension

word count: 7.4k (this one got away from me... i blacked out and woke up to this. i have no other explanation lol)

A/N: 100% self indulgent. partially inspired by @wordborne’s fic Strictly Business, which is a story for inquisitor!Cal. i wonder what it is about redheads in black outfits that’s so appealing to me  lmao

prompt used: they are absolutely losing it, they pin you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down, they say through gritted teeth, "This isn't easy for me. I-I've never--You matter to me. And, You deserve way better than someone like me--" They're cut off when you pull their collar closer, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare. "I deserve you--everything of you, I want it." (source, by @urfriendlywriter)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Life sure takes interesting turns sometimes. You started out as a mechanic on your home planet, then got drafted by the First Order to work on many projects, the latest being a new base on the planet Ilum, which was a very exclusive and secret project. So not only did you have to relocate for a long time while the base got built, but also in the little leave you got, you weren’t really allowed to talk to anyone.

But you decided a long time ago that’s an okay price to pay for an honestly more than decent pay. You also don’t have to pay for housing or food, you get your own quarters, all your equipment, and even a droid. So, not too shabby.

It’s been a while since you moved to Ilum now, and it’s a morning like any other. You’re the first to arrive at the workshop and your droid beeps at you, telling you that there’s a special request coming in asking for a mechanic. You ask your companion from where it comes and it projects a schematic of the base, with the room in question blinking.

You swallow hard as you realise that’s the part of the base where the captains and generals are housed. But the message was marked as urgent, and you’re the only one here right now, so you take your tools and nod to your droid to follow you.

It takes a while to navigate the labyrinth of hallways; it was pretty rare for the lower deck people to come to these parts. You have to look at your droid’s map a couple of times, but finally you make it to the right wing. Even the design of the walls is different here than it is in the other floors, it’s more sophisticated somehow.

You arrive at the room number indicated on the message and read the name on the plaque next to the door: it’s General Hux’s room. Great.

Luckily you didn’t have to deal with him personally, ever really, but you did hear the rumours, and they weren’t all too… nice. Sure, talks about Kylo Ren and his anger issues sounded worse in a way, but at least he lashed out from time to time. Hux donned you as the kind of person to be so emotionally constipated that he probably didn’t remember how to express anything else on his face except for contempt. In fact you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen the man smile.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, and you’re startled as it opens almost immediately. In front of you towers none other than the General himself, sans his coat, eyeing you and your droid up and down.

“You’re late,” is all he says as he turns on his heel, and you follow him silently, deciding there’s no point in arguing to him about how he summoned you to basically the other side of the base out of the blue. 

You try not to stare too much, but you can’t help taking in his room: it’s spacious, clean and tidy. There’s a main room with a couch, a chair and a caf table, and a small kitchen to the side with a breakfast nook attached to it. An open door leads to a space you can’t see, but you assume it’s a hallway to the bedroom and refresher. For a whole organisation that seems to love their sleek designs in black and red, his quarters sure are light, which in turn makes them seem bigger. The wall in the far back of the living room has a huge window reaching almost from floor to ceiling, letting in plenty of natural light, reflected on the planet’s snowy landscape.

When Hux clears his throat, you rip your eyes off the place and bring them back to him, where he stands in the kitchen with his arms crossed.

“The caf machine is broken,” is all he says, then moves past you in a way that only entitled people do, where they expect the other to move out of their way, and takes a seat on the couch, reading through his datapad.

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, thinking back to all your diplomas and licences to repair heavy machinery, artillery, spaceships, yet here you are, fixing a caf machine. 

With a sigh you approach the device and get to work. You find the problem quickly, and luckily it’s an easy fix. You stretch out your arm to your droid, asking for a tool which is handed to you with a happy beep, and finish the repair within minutes. 

“All done, Sir,” you call to Hux.

“Test it to make sure,” he orders without looking up.

“...Sir?”

He sighs.

“Make me a caf,” he clarifies. His tone isn’t particularly condescending or mocking though, it’s just flat. 

“Uhm, yes, Sir,” you respond, turn to the machine and all its buttons, then back to him. “How would you like your caf, Sir?”

“Surprise me,” he answers and goes back to scrolling through his datapad. 

You blink a couple of times, turning back to the device. This is one of those higher end machines, you’ve never really operated one. And you don’t even know where he keeps his stuff.

As if he could read your mind at your lack of movement, he says, “Caf is in the pantry, mugs are in the cupboard above.”

You open said cupboard, finding a collection of plain, black mugs, as well as an electric grinder. In the pantry you see not just an overwhelming amount of different caf beans types, but also a whole barista set, with the little press and the whisky thing. You have never used any of these; all you know is that these sets are rather expensive. And this man apparently knows his caf, so why would he ask a random mechanic to prepare it for him?

Wondering how it is you come into ridiculous situations like this alarmingly often, you get to work, grinding the beans (you didn't know a grinder could be this silent), placing everything in the machine and starting it up. In the pantry you also find some other spices and creamer, but you reckon Hux is the kind of man to take his caf black, so you don’t put in any of the latter. Instead you add a little bit of… you don’t even know what kind of spice it is, as the little jar is unlabeled, but it smells good. 

“All done, Sir,” you say as you walk up to him with the steaming mug.

He gestures to the caf table in front of him with his chin, and you’re about to place the mug down, but then see a little basket with coasters donning the First Order symbol. You pick one up and slide it under the mug.

“You can see yourself out,” is all Hux says, without looking at the mug or you.

You hesitate for a moment, not expecting to just be sent off like that. Wasn’t he even gonna try it? Wait… Why were you even waiting for a response? It’s not like you cared.

“Yes, Sir,” you bow lightly and turn on your heels, calling your droid and leaving.

On the whole walk back to your workshop, you wonder what the kriff just happened, and hope that you won’t have to deal with the General for a long time. He’s so weird.

The universe seems to be against you though, because it is only the next day when you arrive at the workshop, but this time you’re not alone. You’re the first mechanic, as for the next couple of rotations you have the early shift, but there’s a Stormtrooper waiting; that can’t mean anything good. 

“Good morning, Trooper,” you greet them with a smile as you approach them. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Grab your tools and follow me,” the modulated voice orders. You pack your little bag while the Trooper just stares, then tell your droid to come, but they lift a hand.

“Leave the droid.”

You couldn’t be more confused, but you comply, telling your droid to stay. It beeps sadly and slowly rolls back around your table, where it will probably stay and wait for you to come back. You feel a little bad, but there’s nothing you can do.

The Trooper doesn’t say anything else as you follow them through the pristine halls, your steps echoing off the walls. Every now and then you have to jog a little to catch up with their hasty pace. Soon enough the route seems oddly familiar and you feel like you’re having a déjà-vu. 

“Where are we going again?” you ask, even though you haven’t been told yet where the Trooper is taking you.

“General Hux called for you,” they explain.

Okay, now you are confused. You fixed his caf machine, even made him a fresh cup of it. What could he possibly still want? 

The rest of the way to the General’s room is silent again, and once you arrive at the door, the Trooper knocks twice, then stands guard next to it. Again, the door opens comically quickly, as if Hux had been behind it waiting the whole time. The thought makes you smile to yourself, and you try to suppress it the best you can.

“Ah, good, you found the mechanic,” Hux says, nodding to the Trooper, who nods back and leaves the way you came from. 

“What can I do for you today, Sir?” you ask as you find yourself walking into his quarters again. 

This time he has you following him through the hallway to the refresher, where he points at a flickering light.

“Fix it,” he orders and leaves.

Is this some sort of twisted game where he would have you do menial tasks every day? Is the First Order targeting you? Just what in the world is going on, you think, dropping your bag of tools onto the floor with more force than necessary. I have more urgent work to do.

Heaving a silent sigh, you inspect the light. Just as you thought, all it needed was to be screwed in tighter into its socket, and the flickering stopped. 

Picking up your bag from the floor, you walk into the hallway. The door to his room is open and you steal a tiny peek inside. His bed is huge! Sure must be comfy…

“All done, Sir,” you report as you come to stand beside him. 

“Excellent. Now,” he says as he leaves his datapad on the couch and stands up, taking a step towards you, towering over you. Instinctively you take a step back, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his freckled face. Huh, you hadn’t noticed before that he has freckles. 

“Make me a caf,” he orders.

“Sir,” you start, averting your gaze from his piercing one. “With all due respect, you have a functioning caf machine right there. I don’t see why my presence is needed.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

“How did you prepare the caf yesterday?” he asks.

Oh Maker, he probably hated it, you think as you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag.

“Uhm, I…” you hate yourself for stumbling over your words. You bet he’s getting a kick out of this. “Was it not to your liking Sir? If so, I apologise–”

“That was the best damn caf I’ve had in a long time,” he interrupts you, and you can only look up at him in surprise. “How did you prepare it?”

“I made a… I think it’s called a blend?” you try your darndest to remember just what you did yesterday when you experimented with the ingredients in the pantry. “I used beans from two different packs. They seemed like they would go well together… Sir.”

Why did you even do that? You have no idea. You’re also pretty sure you added one of the spices. 

“Interesting,” Hux remarks, leaning back to stand at his full height. You didn’t even notice he was leaning in so close to you. 

You kinda just stand in place, waiting for further instructions, while his eyes seem to burn through your very soul, his face unreadable. 

“Then, surprise me again, mechanic,” he orders, and walks back to the couch. 

You gulp for what you’re about to say, but you don’t like how he calls you ‘mechanic’ like it’s a derogatory term. 

“Actually, Sir, it’s…” you say and pause, waiting for him to turn to you, and then you tell him your name.

He repeats it, as if testing out how it sounds, and you reprimand yourself internally for the beat your heart just skipped when you heard him say it. 

Hux turns his attention back to the datapad, and you quickly make your way into the kitchen, leaving your bag on one of the stools. 

Once more you find yourself in front of the pantry, and you get to work. You sniff the different caf packets, trying to understand anything from the colourfully worded descriptions on the back. With a shrug, you just follow your nose like you did last time, and grind up two different kinds of beans, this time without any spices, and let the machine do the rest. 

Once it’s ready, you bring it to the caf table, where a coaster is already waiting this time. You place down the mug and bring your hands behind your back, waiting to be dismissed.

But instead, Hux takes the mug into his hand, blowing softly on it, and takes a sip. All without breaking eye contact with you. He waits a couple of seconds and hums. You hope that’s a good thing. 

“Interesting choice,” he remarks, looking into the dark liquid reflecting the room’s lights in ripples. “You’re dismissed.”

“Sir,” you excuse yourself with the same bow as yesterday, grab your bag, and leave his quarters. 

You take a quick look at the time on your datapad and curse under your breath as you’re gonna be late for the second rotation in a row, and speed up your pace.

This whole spiel goes on for almost two weeks: Hux sends someone to retrieve you from the workshop early in the morning, has you do some menial task as an excuse for calling you, then orders you to make him caf. The feedback you get for your results is sparse at best, usually only one or two words. But you did notice that he has a preference for one type of blend mixed with a certain spice. You even went as far as looking up more things to spice caf up with on the holonet, trying to apply it to the ingredients in his pantry.

The more time you spend in his room, the more he opens up little by little as well. At first you’d work in silence. Then he’d sit on the stools by the kitchen instead of the couch, doing some work. Then he’d put down the datapad to watch you work, and it even came as far as doing smalltalk. Once he even asked you for your input regarding a technical matter in his work, where you caught a glimpse of some schematics of something huge. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you curious to know what he was working on. 

As ridiculous as this whole situation was, not only did you find yourself looking forward to seeing a Trooper every morning, but you made it your goal to make a caf that would blow Hux’s socks right off.

It’s shortly after the two week mark of this whole thing that you’re on your way to the workshop, expecting to see a Trooper to pick you up, but the place is actually empty, save for your co-worker who’s on the early shift. You greet your droid, who beeps happily at your arrival, and you look around.

“Did anyone come by, buddy?” you ask, and get a negative beep-boop. 

When you ask the other mechanic, she also says it’s been just her until now.

Huh, weird. No, wait, hold on a minute – why are you even expecting to get summoned in the first place? You can finally catch up on all the work you’re behind on because of the little “caf-scapades”, as you’ve been calling them. 

“Alright, let’s get to work,” you tell your droid and pat it a couple of times. “There’s a lot to do.”

The nagging feeling that something is wrong doesn’t leave you though, in fact, the more time passes, the stronger it seems to get. By the end of your shift, you wonder if you should pay the General a visit out of your own volition. But you decide against it, after all he could be on a mission somewhere, or maybe he was busy today. Either way, it’s none of your business. 

You wrap up for the day and finish cleaning your workstation, get your dinner, and not long after, find yourself getting ready for bed. After a quick shower, you change into a tank top and shorts, your go-to sleepwear. You’re glad that despite the harsh outside conditions, the living quarters are well heated.

Just as you’re lifting the blanket to get into your bed, you hear your datapad beep twice: a message. You wonder who it could be this late at night.

With a sigh, you make your way to the table and pick up the device, squinting at the light in your already dark room. You almost drop it to the floor when you see the message: “Come now. Alone.” It’s from an unknown sender, but marked as urgent: it’s gotta be from Hux. You glance at the time and roll your eyes. Of course he would have you on a regular trip to his room every morning for half a month, then suddenly stop, only to call you to his room in the middle of the night. Just what is this guy’s deal?!

You look down at yourself and sigh. This isn’t how you want the General to see you, at least not right now. Not yet. Perhaps. 

You don’t really own any civilian clothes, as you’re always in the base. The only non overall kind of clothing you have is a First Order uniform, but that one is only ever really used for official events or gatherings. Plus it’s rather stiff. 

All your coveralls are currently either covered in grease and/or smell of engine oil. Besides, you don’t wanna wear those over your PJs. So you grab the next best option, which is the summer version of the coveralls you almost never use because they have short sleeves, and it’s mandatory to wear long sleeves and gloves in most of the hangars and workshops. They’re clean at least, so you quickly jump into them, not even bothering to zip it up all the way, slip into your boots and head out. 

Walking down the hallways to the military wing of the base at this time of night is strange; for some reason there’s more Troopers and people out and about than in the early mornings. They give you a strange side-eye when walking past you, but no one seems to question your presence at least.

When you finally make it to Hux’s room, you lift your hand to knock, but hesitate.

Why would he call you out here at this hour anyways? On one side you expect him to tell you that he’s grown tired and bored of you. On the other side you know he wouldn’t do that, not like this at least. 

All day, ever since not being picked up by a Trooper, you’ve been plagued by this little voice in your head. A nagging feeling that was disguised as a strange curiosity to know where the caf-scapades would bring you two in terms of getting to know each other, yet you knew that beneath it was genuine worry for the General. He doesn’t contact you all day, then suddenly messages you (which means he went out of his way to get your contact information, since you hadn’t given it to him), and here you are, running to him the second he calls you. 

You grimace at the thought, or rather the realisation, that you actually came to… like the General. 

He has a weird sense of humour, and isn’t good at expressing how he feels. But if you look closely enough, you can recognise the subtle changes in his face that give away his thoughts. You can’t deny that he is very handsome, but you’re also aware that he can be a dangerous man. You’ve heard enough stories of what he and Ren have done and are capable of. And yet… There's something about his presence, like he’s surrounded by this air full of purpose and confidence, that you can’t help being pulled towards him. 

So yeah, you’re intrigued by him. And you want to see more. 

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door in the pattern you usually do.

But the door stays closed. 

Suddenly it dawns on you that you didn’t actually know for sure who sent the message. What if it wasn’t Hux, and something happened to him? What if he was hurt and this was all a trap?

You hold your breath, tilting your ear towards the door, trying to hear if there’s anyone at all in there, when you suddenly hear a groan from the other side.

You’re about to call out to Hux but stop yourself. You’re sure it was a groan right, and not a… moan? You feel heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. 

Shaking away the images threatening to flood your brain, you knock again. You really hope you’re not interrupting anything.

This time the groan is louder, clearly pained, and it’s calling your name. 

“Sir?” you ask, now definitely worried for his well-being, all other theories thrown out the window. 

Suddenly, the door whooshes open, but there’s no one in front of it. Instead, you see the remote aimed at the entrance (so that’s how he opened the door so quickly), held by a Hux who’s half hanging from the couch onto the floor.

“General!” you call, close the door behind you and rush to his side.

Hux is only wearing his trousers; his shirt, jacket and belt are strewn on the floor. He probably was trying to get dressed or change, but collapsed. You grab his arms to pull him up, and you get to sit him down properly on the couch. His face is flushed all the way down to his neck, clearly running a fever. Your hand shoots up to touch his forehead and he’s burning. He weakly swats your hand away and winces in pain, his eyes shut tightly, and you feel your own gaze travelling down his jaw to his collarbones, to all the freckles covering his shoulders and pecs.

Forcing yourself to tear away your eyes, you shake his shoulder lightly. 

“Sir, you need to go to bed and rest,” you tell him.

“I- I was… trying,” he huffs between heavy breaths, his eyes meeting your own in what you guess was meant to be a glare, but they lack their usual intensity. 

“Lean onto me,” you instruct, pulling him up by an arm and throwing it over your shoulder. You feel how he’s fighting to slump all of his weight on you, and get moving. 

It takes a while and Hux almost falls to the floor twice, but you make it to his room, where he lets himself fall onto the bed. You rush to the refresher, where you remember seeing a first aid kit, and bring it back to the room. You help him take off his boots and lift the blanket for him to climb into the bed, tucking him in once he’s settled. Then you sit down on the edge of the bed and start unpacking the kit. A cold patch goes to his forehead and you take his temperature, which is way too high.

“I’m gonna give you a stim, okay?” you warn him as you take it out of the kit, pulling the blanket down a little so you can apply it. You stick it below his collarbone in a quick motion, and he hisses.

“There, there,” you coo and can’t help but smile. He grunts as he places his forearm over his face, and you pull the blanket back up properly.

After packing everything into the kit and putting it to the side, you go to the kitchen to get a cup of water. Back in the room, you hand Hux some pills and the cup, and he downs it all without even asking what it is and with no snarky remark, which makes you feel even worse for him; the fever must be really bad.

You’re still sitting at his side, taking in his state and wondering what else you can do, when a question pops into your head.

“Why did you call me, General?” you ask him, and he peeks at you from under his arm. “Shouldn’t you have gotten a nurse or a medical droid?”

“Didn’t get my caf today,” he rasps. 

“Oh, so it’s my fault you came down with a fever?” you retort playfully. He nods, and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“So now I gotta make up for my mistake?” you add, and he nods again. You exhale through your nose with a smile. “Well, General, I did all I can do for you. I’m gonna go get a medical droid–”

But before you can stand up, his hand shoots up to grab your wrist, yanking you back down. 

“Armitage,” he whispers, blinking a couple of times, trying to focus his eyes on you.

“Sir–” is all you get out, trying to loosen his grip on your wrist.

“Call me Armitage,” he repeats, louder this time, eyes suddenly full of an intensity you didn’t know he had left in his state.

“Sir, I can’t– You’re–” you whimper in pain as his grip tightens around you even more. “You’re hurting me, Armitage.”

Hux looks up at you a moment longer, then down at his hand, and suddenly lets go, as if he only now realised what he was doing.

“I– I didn’t mean to…” he mumbles as his hand hesitantly reaches up to your wrist again, but much gentler this time. His fingers ghost over the irritated skin, taking your hand in his larger one, and bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

“Stay the night,” he orders, and you feel like your heart, brain, lungs – everything just stops working altogether. 

“Gener–” you start but his brows furrow in a warning glare, so you correct yourself. “Armitage, I really shouldn’t. I can’t.”

Not when you’re like this, at least, you add in your mind.

“I won’t do anything, I promise,” he assures you, his face softening, but eyes still as intense. “Just stay by my side.”

Your eyes fall to your hand still in his, and you feel him give you a squeeze. After a moment, you return it. You’re aware that this can end in one of two ways: it’s either the start of something very interesting, or the end of your career as you know it. Are you really about to risk it all for some fun? 

“Okay,” you finally give in, and he sighs in relief.

Hux pats the space next to him in his enormous bed, and you walk over to the other side of it, lying down on top of the blanket. He holds your hand again and closes his eyes, starting to drift off. 

– – – – –

The next morning, Hux wakes up to a dull pang of pain behind his eyes. He squints as he takes in his surroundings. When did he get to bed? Did he forget to close the blinds last night? Sitting up in the bed, he sees the patch from his forehead fall into his lap. Did he get that himself from the refresher? Why can’t he remember anything from last night? 

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, seeing that he’s still wearing his uniform’s trousers. On the nightstand is a glass of water and some pills which he assumes to be aspirin. He downs it, drinking the whole thing. Why is he so thirsty? 

His eyes travel over the bed when he realises that not only is the other side ruffled, as if someone had slept there, but there’s some mechanic’s overalls neatly folded at the end of the bed too. He freezes, racking his brain for any events of the night prior, but it’s all a blur.

Suddenly he hears some clinking sounds from the kitchen. Sniffing the air he also smells food. Just as he’s about to get up to investigate, you come walking through the door, and his heart skips several beats. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, showing much more skin than he’d ever seen from you, and he immediately decides that he likes what he sees. 

“Oh, you’re up,” you say, coming to a halt just as you pass the door, suddenly very self-conscious of how his eyes are essentially eating you up. “I made breakfast, and caf. Are you feeling any better?”

He doesn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. You being here, dressed like this, does that mean that last night you two…? And if so, why couldn’t he remember any of it?! 

Given his lack of response, you walk around the bed and stand in front of Hux, looking at him with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, your hand coming up to his forehead. You sigh in relief when you notice his fever is almost gone, but you don’t miss how he tenses up at your touch. So if he’s back to normal again… “A-Armitage?”

Hux straightens up suddenly at the use of his name, and looks at you with a ferocity you hadn’t seen before. You instinctively take a step back, and immediately regret it when you see the hurt cross his face for a split second. Hux’s eyes fall and go to your hand which had just been on his forehead moments ago. A scowl spreads on his face as he carefully takes your wrist and brings it up to his face to inspect the bruising that spreads from the back of your hand to almost the middle of your forearm.

“Who did this to you?” he asks through gritted teeth, clearly upset. 

“You did,” you answer, and he looks up at you in disbelief. “You don’t… remember anything from last night?”

“I don’t,” he groans, and when he looks back up at you, his ears burn in the cutest shade of pink. “Since I don’t remember, I have to ask… Did we… last night?”

Your cheeks get set ablaze as you shake your head, biting your lip. When he sighs in relief, you feel your heart sink momentarily, but it resumes its erratic beating with his next words. 

“I’d hate myself if something happened and I didn’t remember it the next day,” he’s quick to clarify, still not letting go of your hand. “And about this… I’m sorry.”

You don’t think that apologies are something that comes easy to Hux, so you know you should just take it as such and shut up, but you can’t help your blabbering, trying to make him feel better for some reason.

“Don’t worry about it, I bruise easily,” you say with a sheepish smile. “Besides, I’ve had worse. I’ll survive.”

“Worse?” Hux asks, concerned for you and at the same time enraged at the thought of someone else hurting you. 

“Yeah, look at this,” you reply, removing your hand from his to lift your shirt up a little, while the other pulls down the hem of your shorts ever so slightly, to show him a scar that goes from above your hip bone up and around your ribcage. “This one I got from when an engine fell on me.” 

So you meant work accidents and not someone else laying a hand on you. Hux feels the earlier rage dissipate as he takes in your scar, and the way you so easily bared yourself to him. 

Being pulled towards him by your hips, you watch in complete shock when Hux places the softest of kisses on your scar, then traces it with his fingers. He’s so close, you wonder if he can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Shall we get breakfast then?” he asks, suddenly very matter-of-factly, and stands up. “Wouldn’t want the caf to get cold after all.”

Hux walks past you to the wardrobe, getting out of your sight as he stands behind the open door. You take a moment to control your breathing and imagination, then walk towards the kitchen. 

When he joins you on the stools, you notice he changed into more comfortable clothes, and you pass him his mug and a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I can also make some porridge if you think you’d stomach that better?” you offer.

“This is perfect,” he retorts, and starts eating. 

You prop your hand on your elbow for a second, just taking in this moment which seems… strangely domestic. And peaceful. It feels like something you could get used to.

Snapping back to reality, you check the time on the microwave, and scramble to your feet.

“Ah, kriff! I’m so late!” you start running back and forth, gathering your things. You quickly slip into your overalls and jump into your boots without even tying them up. You appear once more next to Hux, who’s still calmly enjoying his breakfast.

“You better take the day off. I don’t want to see you around, you hear me?” you tell him, pointing at him with a scolding finger. “Drink plenty of water and stay in bed, okay? Message me if anything comes up.” 

Before you realise what you’re doing, you place a quick kiss to his cheek, say your goodbyes and dash out the door, leaving a very perplexed Hux in the kitchen.

It’s only as you’re rushing down the halls that you realise not only what you’ve done but also how this must look to the passers-by: someone getting out of a high ranking officer’s room with rather dishevelled hair, not having even put on your clothes properly. You swallow your pride though, ignoring all the looks you get, and run as fast as you can to your room to get changed. 

When you finally make it to the workshop, it’s no surprise to see your supervisor there, and he’s fuming. You try to sneak by to your workstation somehow, but he sees you and calls you over to his office, where he gives you an earful about impunctuality and responsibility and yadda yadda yadda. Then he goes on about how highly irregular this behaviour is from you since you’ve always been a diligent worker, and you better think twice before not appearing for work next time. 

You bite your tongue and let it all pass over you. As long as you finish your work within the deadline, there’s no real risk here. 

When your boss finally lets you go, you rush to your droid and get to work immediately. The next couple of rotations you’re immersed in your job, taking shift after shift to catch up on everything you still have to get done. In all this time, there’s no messages from Hux, and you’re glad, because you would probably say things to him that you’d regret later if you saw him right now. Getting so behind schedule in the first place is kind of his fault. Sure, you never told him that you were losing precious hours of work, but you didn’t think it’d get this far. That you would come to enjoy his company and hope he enjoyed yours, to the point where he had asked you to spend the night. 

So, right now, you don’t want to see him, not until after the deadline. But the universe has other plans for you yet again, as it is the day before it that you see Hux again. 

You had told him he should message you. He could have gone and sent a Trooper for you like last time. But no, what does this guy do? Comes to get you personally.

If it wasn’t for your droid, you wouldn’t even have seen him coming because you’re currently head-first inside a cockpit, trying to reach some cables. But its beeps alert you, and you spring up so hastily that you hit your head on the dashboard.

With a hiss and rubbing over the spot you just hit, you get out of the ship, where Hux and two of his Troopers are waiting. 

“General Hux,” you greet with a polite smile, “What can I do for you?”

“Come with me,” he orders, and for a moment you look at him in disbelief. 

Just what is he getting at now? No greeting, no nothing? Just ordering you around again, in front of your crew? Making you lose even more hours of work? Oh, two can play that game.

“No,” you retort after a scoff.

He comes to a halt and turns around slowly, his eyes narrowed at you in a warning glare. 

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, his whole body language telling you to measure your next words very carefully, but instead, you slightly lift your chin in a defiant gesture. 

“Then beg.” 

Hux curls his fists at his side, and the Troopers lift their blasters to aim at you, but he lifts one hand, and they lower their weapons, but not without giving each other a look behind the General. 

At this point the whole workshop is so silent, you’re sure you’d be able to hear a needle drop onto the metallic floor. Even the TIE fighters in the hangars around you seem to roar more silently. 

“I am the General in charge of this base and you will listen to me!” he suddenly yells, and you avert your eyes. You can’t believe he just pulled rank on you. 

Letting the tool you were holding fall into the toolbox with a clank, you walk up to him, still not looking him in the eyes.

He slightly shakes his head at you, then turns on his heels and heads for the hallway, with you in tow and the Troopers at the end. 

Hux takes a different route than expected; instead of taking you to his quarters, which are pretty far away, he heads to the office wing, finding an empty conference room and getting in. He slams the button on the panel for the blinds, and the inner windows dividing the room and the hallway go dark. 

“No interruptions,” he instructs the Troopers through gritted teeth, then closes the door. 

You find yourself in the rather dark room now, alone, with a seemingly very angry General. He suddenly turns around and takes quick steps towards you, pushing you back against the conference table and trapping you between his arms.

“Don’t you dare defy me like that again in front of the others,” he threatens you. 

“Defy you?” you say with a wry smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You don’t get to order me around like your Stormtroopers. You can ask nicely, you know? Or just, I don’t know, like a normal person?” 

He groans, slamming his fist onto the table, which startles you. You don’t like this attitude at all, so you push him back and take a step to the side.

“General– No, Armitage,” you try softening him up by using his name, and it seems to be working. “What even are we?”

He starts walking towards you again, slowly backing you up against the wall this time. 

“If this is just a game to you, then–” you start, your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him off, but you don’t actually put any strength into it because you know what you actually want. So you let yourself be pushed further, your heart pounding with every step backwards you take. “Then let’s just stop right here. But if you’re serious about this, you need to tell me, please…”

By now, Hux is absolutely losing it, and he finally pins you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down into yours.

"This isn't easy for me,” he says through gritted teeth. “I– I've never– You matter to me. And, maybe you deserve better than someone like me–"

He’s cut off when you pull him closer by the collar, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare.

"I deserve you– everything of you, I want it,” you breathe. 

With that, Hux’s last thread of self-control snaps, and he presses his body against yours, smashing his lips on yours. The kiss is heated, sloppy and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Finally you’re able to show just how much you’ve been longing for each other. 

The General slips his hands under your thighs, pulling you up against the wall. You gasp in surprise and he uses that to press his tongue against yours. You hook your ankles behind him, both your hands roaming each other in desperation. 

When you finally break for air, you’re panting, but Hux attacks your neck next, and he’s relentless. He spends what feels like an eternity and yet nowhere near enough kissing, biting, licking every inch of your skin he can reach. You’re sure the grip of his hands on your legs will leave bruises again, but this time you find yourself looking forward to them. 

Once Hux seems satisfied, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with his ragged breathing. 

“When you showed me that scar,” he whispers against your skin. “I thought I was gonna take you then and there.”

He leans his head back only enough to look at you, and the intensity of his eyes sends a shudder to your very bones.

“I’ll map every inch of your skin, every scar, mole and freckle, and mark it up. I want all of you,” he growls, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a threat or a promise; you’re just glad that he’s holding you in place because your knees have long since given out.

You cup his face, and bring him in for another kiss. This time it’s much slower, gentler, but just as deep. 

“I’d like that,” you breathe into his lips, and he smiles. 

When he finally lets you down, you have to hold onto Hux because of how wobbly your legs are. 

“You good?” he asks, his hands on the underside of your arms to hold you.

“Yeah,” you reassure him, and have to choke back a laugh when you look up at him.

“What?” he questions with an amused little smile. 

“Come here, lemme fix your hair. You’re quite a mess,” you say, and he leans down so you can smooth out his hair as best as you can. 

“Well, you should see yourself,” he chuckles as he returns the favour.

Once you’re both more or less presentable, you walk to the door. Before Hux opens it though, he takes your hand one last time in his and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“See you tonight?” he asks, hopeful.

“Can’t wait,” you say with a wink.

– – – – –

Bonus:

When you make it back to your table in the workshop with a dreamy look on your face, your co-worker brings her hand to her mouth with a gasp.

“What?” you ask her, looking around in surprise, trying to find the source of her horror.

“Really? The General?!” she whisper-shouts, gesturing to you to follow her.

She guides you to the little supply closet at the end of the workshop and rummages in a box for a clean rag.

“What do you mean? Was it so obvious?” you ask, your cheeks still ablaze from before.

“Obvious?” she repeats rhetorically, handing you the rag and a little pocket mirror. “Honey, you can see those hickeys all the way from Coruscant.”

“Wait, what?” you blurt out and look into the mirror. Sure enough, the General made sure you won’t be able to walk around the base without a turtleneck for several rotations. He went absolutely ham.

“Gha!” you shriek, tying the rag around your neck like a scarf. “I’m gonna kill him!”

[finniigan-fr]

wtf i NEED to see the tundra plush ur making :0

Oh im only about a third of the way through! But heres some pics:

I started off with making a paper ver to try out Shapes and then drafted it into a rough pattern - i refined that with scrap fabric tests and made a wire armature so that i can pose it when its done :D

As of now ive got all my fabric pieces cut out, i just need to sew them together!! (which might take a while, since im doing pretty much all of the fiddly bits by hand lol)

Once its finished ill put up a clean pattern in case anyone wants to use it :] and it should work as a plushie without an armature too, i just wanted to pose mine hehe

The remaining stages will just be sewing round the armature, stuffing it, and then shaving the fur down to the right lengths :3

Ill upload more pics of the proccess if ppl are interested!!!! I only started doing this on a whim cos someone asked for fr plushie patterns in the old oaks server xD literally all it takes for me to start a new project is someone breathing in my direction

[festivating]

hi!!!! absolutely LOVING attrition, I wanted to ask about your writing process...

how long have you had the idea for the story? what's your outlining process like? how big of a backlog did you have before you started posting?

your dedication and committment to this fic is incredibly impressive and i am astonished (and grateful!!!!) for the consistent weekly updates and fr i just wanna know how you manage it all... (speaking as someone who has been working on the same 40ish chapter fic for over 5 years lol....)

keep up the fantastic work!!

Omg hiiiii friend thank you for the questions I LOVE talking about writing!! I usually start writing long stories after I get an idea for a particular scene, and then I heavily outline around that scene and I plan everything down to the smallest detail, but for attrition I just.... didn't plan at all, that fic spawned to existence out of pure whimsy and happenstance. It was supposed to be a ONE SHOT 😭I started writing it in May of 2023 after I read the first book and I was like mm wouldn't it be interesting if Glinda found Elphaba at the convent surely this won't be longer than 5k words...

I am a severely delusional person.

By the time I hit 20k words I realized perhaps it would not be a one shot lol. I didn't really have an outline I just kept throwing ideas on the page thinking eventually I would just run out of things to say, but it actually took a very long time before that happened. The backlog is pretty much the whole fic tbh, I finished it all and sent it to my beta reader (who was horrified because the whole thing was one massive document not even divided into chapters) and then we went back and forth for months while I polished things up, tightened loose ends, added foreshadow, cleaned up the prose and things like that.

I'm still working on revising the final chapters, but the fic was 80% done before I started posting in November! I am truly more of an editor than I am a writer, the first draft of this thing was finished very quickly and it was very rough, so it took a lot of revisions before I was satisfied.

But anyway, yeah! I may not be the best person to ask how to manage it all because my process is weird I write super fast very unpolished first drafts then spend two lifetimes editing and revising. Mad respect to you and other writers who are able to write exactly what they want from the start and post that to incredible results!!

[missredherring]

Lord of Desire

Maxwell Lord x Fat F!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: He reaches out to the woven spell where he can sense the Dreamstone’s magic and tries to take control back. But now, now, he can finally feel your rising desire coming into play and changing the direction of the magic. It’s a tug of war between what the two of you want. It’s heady and dizzying and he can’t tell where one starts and the other stops. 

Warnings: dub-con with dream sex logic. unprotected piv sex. m!on screen and f!off screen masturbation.

A/N: This is the only planned smut scene in the fic, but our duo might surprise me, lol. Max is getting a little desperate here, in more ways than one.

The dream sex logic is a little tricky, so please let me know if I missed any warnings.

Thank you so much to @frannyzooey for your beta reading skills and amazing suggestions. As always, @covetyou thank you for your patience and support as you look over drafts so rough I'm surprised they didn't give you a splinter.

A part of @yearofcreation2023

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Previous - Masterlist - Next

Max stands by the open window, watching the people go by outside. Some are walking their dogs, while others rush through the parking lot with purposeful strides. The cars pull out and join others on the road. Birds chirp as they fly by. A squirrel darts to a nearby tree and disappears up the trunk into the branches.

It’s an endless stream of life outside, but here in your apartment it’s still. 

When you summoned him you’d been pouring a steaming cup of tea. The usual music channel was already playing on the TV and for a moment, as his senses came back to him, all he could do was stare as the fabric of your nightdress played hide and seek with your pretty dimpled thighs while you moved around the kitchen to prepare your drink. 

You’ve settled on the couch, tapping away at the phone that always seems to be in your hand, and there’s no sign of you preparing to start your day.

It’s never taken him this long to fulfill the terms of the Dreamstone’s contracts. 

Whenever he’s been summoned he’d been focused on the wisher, the magic a force urging him on to its own ends. His mind hasn't been fully his own in a long time, but with a single, simple question he feels awake. He feels human again and a part of him hates it, every time the worry and uncertainty rushes back when he materializes from the stone. 

“Are you Max Lord?”

From his periphery he sees your cat come into the room and jump up on the couch with you. The phone is immediately put down as you give your full attention to your pet.

The cat walks up the length of your body to settle on your chest, almost nose to nose with you, and starts purring loudly. You pet him and talk to him in a sweet voice.

“How’d you sleep? Hm? My handsome boy. My sweet baby.” 

A car door slams outside, the engine turns over, and another person sets off. Max can’t keep the words in even as he tries to adjust the tone. 

“Do you have plans for today?” 

“Hmm,” You let out a gusty sigh. “There’s laundry and cleaning of course. I need to go grocery shopping for the week and stop by the post office, but all that can wait.”

“Why?” He asks and hopes it comes across as curious instead of needling. 

“Because Harry came to me of his own free will and wants some attention. I can’t say no to that.” You chuckle when Harry stretches out his neck as you scratch under his chin. “Oh yea, that’s a good one.”

With just a slight turn of his head he takes in the way you’re staring at each other. The cat is looking back at you with equal attention, his body relaxed as he moves up and down with your breathing.

“There’s nothing I would rather be doing right now,” You stroke a thumb over his cheek, smoothing some fur back into place, and he leans into your touch. “Than being here with him like this.”

The frustration that’d been rising abruptly stops and sits heavy on his chest.

Max tries to imagine a morning like this for himself: slow and warm and full of affection. He can only remember the overwhelming stress and rushing to meet with the next potential investor or checking the stock market reports again and again to see if Black Gold would go under or if it would survive another day.

Would Alistair have liked a day like this with him? With no real demands of his time except their own whims? He knows what the answer would’ve been.

He hasn't felt this guilt in a while, but it knows where its home is, beneath his ribs and next to his heart. 

You take his silence as the end of the conversation and go back to making soft noises at the cat.

More and more, you’re treating him like a roommate and leaving him to his own devices while going about your daily life. You do it again later that day, leaving him in the living room after announcing you’re going to take a nap.

When your bedroom door clicks closed he allows his face to fall from its neutral expression, agitation deepening the lines around his mouth and eyes. He rubs a hand over his chin and looks down at the jewelry that he can no longer remove, the gold bands that are growing heavier every day as the hands of his watch chip away at the time left in this contract. 

The temptation of the wishes alone hasn’t worked like it has on others, but maybe you’ll fall for something else. 

Max settles into the arm chair with his hands linked over his stomach. The air is warm, blowing through the windows, as he clears his mind. 

He inhales deeply through his nose, focusing on the Dreamstone’s magic. It too is restless with disuse as it churns in the space between you. He follows the connection to your form, feels the same pulse echoing along your skin, and sinks into the sensation.

The magic guides him in planting the suggestion. It’s only moments before your unconscious mind accepts it and the dream sequence sweeps over both of you. 

He’d thought it would be something simple. A scene out of a dirty VHS that’d been passed around after late night business meetings. He would be the director, his voice whispering suggestions of how you could make all of it a reality with only two words. But as has become routine with you: your subconscious takes the magic’s suggestion and shapes it into something else. 

Something he didn’t intend at all. 

The apartment drops away, leaving only your glowing form at the center of a dark void. You’re spread out on silk sheets, your body bare and relaxed.  

Between one blink and the next he’s become a part of the scene: the silk sheets cool on his bottom now that they’re under him and he’s just as naked as you are. He doesn’t know what he’s sitting up against, but it doesn’t matter as your warm skin presses him further down, your back to his chest you rely on him to support you.

He reaches out to the woven spell where he can sense the Dreamstone’s magic and tries to take control back, but your rising desire comes into play and changes the direction of his fantasy. It’s a tug of war between what the two of you want. It’s heady and dizzying and he can’t tell where one starts and the other stops. 

His body pinning you down into the mattress. Hands wandering, caressing, pressing, digging into giving flesh. He imagines his own scene, something that could leave you desperate enough to make a wish, but you take it over. 

You sigh and take his hands in yours, guiding them to your breasts. Their weight steadies his hands as they spill between his fingers. He can't hold all of you and it only drives the urge to keep moving and touch more.

He couldn’t stop the motions if he tried. Massaging and kneading at the warm skin that moves easily with his touch. Catching your nipples between his fingers and squeezing them gently. His exploration is rewarded with your gasp, with the arch of your back into his chest, and the way your hips rock back into him, nudging at his hardening cock.

Mouths exploring, opening wider and wider in the attempt to cover as much skin as possible. Lips and tongues and teeth marking everything in their path.

Max can’t remember the last time he was like this with a lover. He doesn't feel any tension in your body, and there’s no sign of you counting down the time until it’s been long enough to politely end the engagement. He feels at ease with himself as the pouch of his stomach rolls over when he leans forward to mouth at the tempting line of your neck. Your body is heavy against his, weighing him down in a way he can feel in his bones. There’s no room for anything else between your skin and his.

A rough grip at the nape of your neck, pushing you down into the sheets, and lifting your wide hips to meet his. Slipping and gliding along your sex, coating his dick in your desire. The sweet pressure in the first seconds of the initial stretch.

Fingers tangle together in a brief embrace as you take his hand bring it down, placing it between your legs. Instead of leaving him alone there, you caress the soft skin of your inner thigh, gripping it and holding yourself open for him, allowing his big hand room to cup your fat pussy and fill his palm completely. Pubic hair tickling him, you roll your hips, caught between his hand. his cock behind you, and his other hand still working your breast. He waits, framing your vulva with his pointer and pinky fingers and letting his middle fingers play, dipping and stroking but not delving deep enough to find your clit yet, just teasing the seam of your sex. The moan you let out is so close to his ear, the nuzzle at his jaw followed by a press of your lips. Your affection, your approval, makes his head swim even more. 

Lust traded back and forth between you with every thrust, building and building until it drowns out the pounding of your heartbeat and spills over. 

Max snaps back to his own body, jerking in the chair and panting to catch his breath. His body is tingling with an awareness he hasn’t felt in along time, and it’s all pooling in his lap, where an erection beats an echo of the same lustful suggestions he’d given you.

In your bedroom he can hear the creak of the bed as you shift and he chokes on his breath, groaning low when the quiet whir of a motor starts. You gasp and he can still hear the echo of that same sound ringing in his ears. 

He drags a hand over his face and into his hair, grabbing a fistful and clenching it in frustration. He gives you a wet dream and instead of coming to him to finish the job, you’re taking care it of yourself. You’re driving him insane. The next clench of his fist goes straight to his cock and he drops his hand. 

After that, it’s easy. God, it’s so damn easy for him to unzip his pants and take himself in hand. Already so worked up, it doesn't take much more than imagining that the feeling of his fist hitting his groin is your hips pushing back into him as he fucks you. The soft moans coming from your room spurs him on to a quick orgasm, and as the pleasure peaks and starts to ebb away he sighs. 

You come out of your room with loose limbs, rumpled clothing, and even messier hair. Just how hard did you press your head back into your pillows, as you sated the desire that had woken you from your sleep? He wants to witness it, to hear those quiet noises you’d made loud in his ears.

He holds himself still until you close the bathroom door behind you and then grabs the tissues from the coffee table. Cleaning up the mess he’d made between his legs, he tries not to think of how you’re doing the same thing.  

[carpathianspaceprincess]

To Be A Soldier - (hbo!)Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: In which you have gotten yourselves and your young cargo into quite a dangerous situation. Now you have to decide who can be saved, but you're nearly out of time and Joel is as stubborn as ever. Rating: E. Minors DNI. CW / Tags: Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Desperation. Soft kiss. Non-gendered reader. Detailed description of wounds and several mentions of death and/or bodies. Established relationship. Open ending. Recommended listening: The Day After Tomorrow - Phoebe Bridgers. A/N: HELLO DARLINGS!! dawg idk what this is. It's been in my drafts for at least three weeks while i hummed and haaaaed over it. Realised halfway through that I was subconsciously pulling from my own personal relationship with death and grief, particularly towards the end. (aka I have daddy issues lol) PLEASE interact if you liked it (or hated it!). Also note I hate sad shit LMFAO this is the rare angst for me - there will be more and this is not the end of the story.

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Maria assured you this job would be a breeze. All you had to do was drop off some cargo over the river. “Cargo” being Johanna, a girl of around six, who was to be reunited with her ecstatic parents after several months of Maria trying to locate them. How hard could it be?

The ride up was familiar terrain, and with the promised payment of around 200 cans (two hundred!) sitting safely in a storage unit, you considered the whole thing a win-win. The only con? You’d been forced to leave Ellie at home, a conversation you’d mistakenly left to Joel. You tried to explain that the bridge crossing was safely abandoned, and assured her you’d be back the day after tomorrow, but she wasn’t having it. 

“I miss you when you’re gone! You can’t just leave me behind again!” 

“It sucks, I know… what if I bring you back something cool to make up for it?”

“Fine, but you better make it good.” 

“I will, I promise.” 

Having smoothed things over, you’d started out optimistic; Joel allowing the brush of your hand against his own as you passed folks shoveling snow and raking leaves, cheeks rosy as summer faded and made way for the fresh, icy winter air. You delighted at Joel’s unexpected patience and humor for Johanna, and as the three of you rode, your laughter hung between the dense firs like streamers. 

Then a FEDRA unit caught your unsuspecting trio by surprise up near the river bank, a mere two hours after setting out. Things had spun out of control quickly, and in the scuffle to escape Johanna had suffered a fall. You’d found the only cover you could in this shithole of a shepherd’s shack, fending off gunfire while you and Joel tried to figure out how you’d get back to Jackson with no horses and dwindling ammo. In your effort to push the little girl under a solid table for cover, you’d been careless and exposed yourself to the aim of one remaining officer.  

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“Fuck!” You stumble, back thudding against rotting wooden panels. “Fuck i’m stupid. fuck. fuck. fuck!”  

 “Shit.” Joel kneels over you, wild eyes reflecting your own. The steel of his shotgun  gleams in the blistering sunset. Flustered concern etched in his forehead. “He’s down. How bad is it?.”

Wheezing in the dust and dripping sweat from your furrowed brow, you move your unsteady fingers over dirt-scuffed denim to get a better look at the sizable hole entrenched in the muscle of your inner thigh. 

“Ahhh..I- I don’t know. Pretty deep.” 

You shoot a dirty look to the bloodied bullet sitting just to your left. What a piece of shit. How could something so small cause so much fucking damage?  

Warm, velvet red ripples steadily from the split skin. 

“Bullet still in there?” He’s breathless. 

“No.” You bite out.  “Clean shot.” 

You lift your hand, blood sticky and gross on your palm. He clicks his tongue as if it isn’t that serious, but the way his face whitens betrays him. This was all wrong. He should never have let you take this job. He should’ve convinced Maria to pick someone else. 

“Okay. Okay. That’s alright. Scooch up now, I'll grab the kit.” 

“No, no i’ll do it. Just…keep watch. I’ll be alright.”  You rebuff his hovering anxiety, with more certainty than you feel. Mostly for his benefit.

Waving his hesitant form away with marginal annoyance, you grumble out a half-serious “s’fine.”  

You will be, right? Fine? You’ve been through worse injuries than this. It’s not like you’re infected.  Reaching up to rifle through the drawer beside you one-handed, you note that you can no longer feel the sting of your fingers, pinched over the wound to keep it closed.

Joel still hasn’t moved an inch, so you wave him off once more, needle and thread secured in hand. “Need you to keep your eye on the driveway, Joel.” 

 Christ, It’s only your lives at stake here. The last thing you need is him losing focus when he’s the only one with a gun, and you need him to actually use it if you want to make it out of this alive. 

He reluctantly concedes, mumbling to himself. Anger and adrenaline still burn bright and hot in his chest at the sight of your wound, so while you pull on the edge of the thread with your teeth to free it, he turns away to focus on something else that isn’t covered in your blood, eyes landing on the corpse of the last soldier outside. 

He knows he should feel bad that he’d gunned down that young boy without hesitation, should feel guilty. Some of these “officers” were still just kids, shoved out in front of threats as fodder. 

But he doesn’t feel bad. He’ll do it again.

FEDRA radio static crackles from beneath the rest of the bodies splattered in the overgrown grass.

“Second unit ten minutes away, over.” 

Okay. No reason to panic. You have ten minutes. This is fine. 

You try hard not to focus on the mess as you thread the rusty needle with far more force than is required, slippery hands pressing the tip into the top section of flesh that’s split open. You push, wincing. 

And the stupid thing breaks. 

Snaps in two. Like it’s nothing. 

No. no. no no no no. 

Joel’s back is turned, and he misses the horror splashed across your features. Your heart beats out of your chest.

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 “I broke it.”

 He whips around, reaching for you immediately. “What? Broke what?” He spots the split metal beside you, red thread hanging limp, and picks the two ends up with an unreadable expression. 

 Forcing your eyes down purposefully into your mangled, pulsing leg, you barely see the fat lining through the ripples of blood and muscle. Fuck, that’s disgusting. Swallowing back a wave of nausea, you tear your sweat-soaked flannel over your head, pulling it as tight as you can stand. You can’t stitch it up, so this will have to do for now. 

You shiver. Then two hands are firmly gripping your shoulders as you wither beneath Joel as he looms over you, dizzy and disorientated in panic. You grip his wrists to stop from losing face. 

“Fuck. Okay…s’fine…just keep it wrapped. Won’t be long til’ the last of those dirty fuckers show up.” The timbre of his voice is deep, trembling. “I’ll take care of them ‘n then we get the hell out of here. We’ll head straight to Tommy’s..” He pauses. “You just gotta hold out for a bit longer, okay?” 

You nod but can’t bring yourself to look at him as he brushes his large palm against your cheek in reassurance, standing to take his position against the wall by the door. You chew on your lip, tasting blood. How long can you really last like this? Night is closing in. The temperature is dropping fast. Your flannel is already wet. The reduced circulation will slow it down, give you maybe fifteen minutes of grace to figure something out. 

But then what? 

The faint rumble of engines sends electric shocks zip-zapping up and down your spine and Joel stands up straighter, index finger hovered over the slope of the trigger. He’s itching to pull it, to kill them all,  end this horror of a day. Bury it in the past where it belongs. He’ll take you back home where it’s safe and run you a bath and forget this ever happened, banish it to the recesses of his nightmares. 

Glossy with cold sweat, your pulse flutters. The ominous creep of a slippery puddle has begun to form between your inner thigh and the mottled floorboards. You count the seconds. And breathe. In and out. In and out. Think. think. think.  

The silence is suffocating as you mull over your possible options. You could look around for another med kit, but what would be the chances? Plus, you can barely move and it would be a waste of energy. What about something to plug the hole? Tampons, pads…anything? Sweeping the barren room, you can’t see shit in the shadows except Johanna’s small frame, lying flat against the mattress.  She’s been eerily still and quiet throughout the standoff, and you wonder if she’s afraid. Tear tracks stain her little cheeks. You chide yourself at forgetting to check on her. 

“You alright, honey?” 

She nods, but you notice the odd angle of her leg, and how she quivers. You had forgotten how dependent young children were, because Ellie was older and fairly self-sufficient now. An adult could potentially manage with a broken leg on foot for a while on regular terrain, but not a 6 year old. She needs a doctor, antibiotics. Joel will need to carry her back to Jackson. 

The thing is, the numbness in your thigh that’s creeping steadily toward your hip tells you that the bullet has almost certainly nicked your main artery. Logic suggests you’d never make it to Jackson in time to stop bleeding out. Not even if you could run, let alone being unable to walk by yourself. 

You watch the blood pool and spread, sinking into bug-bitten damp planks. Soaking the soil beneath. There shouldn’t be this much of it. 

You turn back to Joel warily, angling yourself so that only your good leg is facing toward Johanna. She’s already seen far too much today. 

“How many rounds you got left?” You ask. 

“Enough.” He lies.

“Even if you manage the whole unit, I can’t run like this.”  You gesture to your leg, but he doesn’t look. 

“I’ll carry you. S’fine.” He swears, wavering. Convincing himself. 

“Look at me, Joel.” You hiss. 

You’re glaring at him as he methodically checks every part of the gun and frustration bubbles up inside you. You do not have time for his denial. 

“Joel!”  

He looks up at the sound of your growing desperation and you shift, grimacing as your thigh pulses with blistering pain. His eyes lower as you gingerly lift the shirt so he can see how bad it really is, plastered and dripping in the evidence of your failure. The uselessness and futility of it all. He starts toward you. “Don’t fuckin’ take it off! Jesus christ.” 

“Hand me the gun, Miller.” 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” 

You try to push back the tears that are brimming in your eyes. How can you convince him?

“Cop on, for christ’s sake. You only have two hands. If you give me the gun you can get the hell out of here and ta-”

You don’t get to finish your explanation as he slams the shotgun down on the table. The walls shake with the impact of it. “What kind of man do you fuckin’ think I am? Huh? You really think i’d leave you here? Abandon you?”

You exhale gratuitously, trying to get ahold of yourself so you don’t ruin this more than you already have. “It’s not about me Joel.” You plead,  “I know what kind of a man you are. But look at that kid, she can’t fucking run!” 

“ Don’t make this difficult for me” You whisper, biting back a wave of grief at how beautiful he looks in this light, even in his anger. 

His eyes bore holes into yours. Silent. Unwavering. He won’t let you do this, there has to be another way. He’ll find it. 

You look him dead on, mustering all the courage you have left in you. 

“Could you live with yourself? if you let her die, just because you’re too much of a coward to let me go?” You almost regret the weight and severity of your words, but you’re pulling your last card here. Somebody has to survive this mess and you’ll do what you have to do, though it breaks your fucking heart to know you’ll never get the future you were imagining this morning - that you’ll  never feel the warmth of the sun again or be able to see Ellie grow up, never have the garden you wanted so badly, or feel the rush of exhilaration when you ride out with Joel for a job.  You’ll die right here when he leaves you behind and you have to make him do it.

Because if he doesn’t take the girl and get the fuck out out, all three of you are done for. 

“You’re a dad, Miller.” You change tack, voice softer now, lilted. “You know what you have to do.” Your heavy, tired eyes flit to the left. 

He’s silenced by that, pained gaze turned to where the youngster is sat. He knows her leg hurts and he can see the bone is resting at an odd angle. You’re right, she can’t run. But there has to be something he can do.

Joel looks at her like he has to double check several times before turning back to you - words twisted and caught in his throat.  A large, soft hand rests on your thigh. “I-I’ll find another needle and thread and we’ll patch you up right here, okay? You…you can run if it’s stitched. We’ll make it.”  

Tears burn your eyes as you see the devastation mirrored in his own. The longing. You turn your head down, snaking your hand through his curls and pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. Savouring every part of him as much as you can. 

“I’m dying, Joel.” You release the words in one breath, but you surprisingly find you accept them easily. Naturally. You’d thought it’d be difficult to actually acknowledge it, but there’s no apprehension or venom in your voice. 

“Don’t. Don’t you fuckin’ dare say that.”

You open your eyes and take him in, heartbroken. All orange and red and purple, soft and dream-like.  A smile touches your cheeks and Joel marvels at that, how beautiful and angelic you are, even while you’re bleeding out in front of him. It’s too much for him and his chest constricts painfully. How could he have let this happen? You can’t be dying. He won’t let you.

“You have to let me go, Miller”  

His head ducks down and he swallows thickly. Joel has felt helplessness before, more times than he cared to remember. This time it’s also denial that crushes him as he scrambles, trying to find a solution he knows already doesn’t exist. This is all happening too fast, his whole life falling down around him. What would he say to Ellie? She would hate him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Not if he did this. 

 “I won’t. I won’t fail again.” 

Panic rises in you at his reluctance and you grip his hand as tight as you can. “You’ll fail me if you don’t get that girl to a doctor! I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t make it home to her mama, Joel.” 

“It’s not your fault.” You add, softly, though he shakes his head ever so slightly. 

You hear the disruptive crackle again. “Unit dropping in five, over.”

He stands abruptly and you do too, taking his outstretched hand and letting him support your weight as you both peer across the lawn, searching for the vehicles, but unable to see much beyond the winding driveway and thicket of trees. 

The engines are a little louder now. Shouts and orders echoing distantly from empty streets and the valley edges. There’s nothing else alive here to make noise, save for a few infected wandering the edges of town. 

Joel’s arm slides comfortably around you and you lean into it. So warm and good. Always there for you. Looking after you. Supporting the weight of your whole world. And as much as your exhausted body is begging for his touch, screaming for the comfort of his arms, dying for him to pick you up and carry you home and wrap you up to lie lazily in his bed, it would be real fuckin’ selfish of you to give in. 

Your heart pangs as you think of Ellie. She’ll never forgive you. 

Tears are streaming down your cheeks now, but you don’t care anymore and you look at Joel, really look, trying to etch every detail of this man’s face into your memory. God, he was beautiful. Every gentle line and every hair, the tug of his soft mouth and the glint of his eyes. 

Your left hand grips his over the cold metal and you steel your resolve. This time you have to be the strong one. For him. For her. 

“Give me the fucking gun, Joel.” 

There’s a moment of silence where you think he might fight, might try to convince you there’s another way, try to make you run with him even though you can’t even stand up properly. But  his grip relaxes and a huge wave of relief washes over you. Adjusting your position, you struggle unceremoniously with his help to a spot underneath the window that’ll give you the cover you need while you do this last thing. Your muscles relax against the floor, eager to rest. He reluctantly lets you slide down. 

At the kickback of a truck that’s too close, he moves over to Johanna and crouches, motioning for her to climb onto his broad back. “Come on now, sweetheart” 

“What about her?” The girl’s voice is quiet, resigned. 

“Don’t you worry honey, I’ll be right behind you.” The lie is smooth and sweet in your mouth. Too easy, too sure. Parental. Joel’s been rubbing off on you. You reassure her even as you begin to tremble. 

Joel’s expression is unreadable and he takes a shaky step toward you, holding his cargo carefully. She clings to him and you try to steel yourself.

Doors shut and slam in the near distance, and you realize they must be equipping and briefing down at the turnoff because they don’t know you know they’re coming. You give Joel a pointed look at the open back door, a silent directive. Go. They’ve parked up. You need the time.  Instead, he advances til he’s right in front of you.  

“What are you doing?” You croak, not wanting to prolong this, for his sake as well as your own. Aren’t you suffering enough? “You gotta go, Joel. You got like, five minutes to put as much ground as you can between us.” 

“Let me look at you, for christ’s sake.” one last time. Committing to his own memory your sure grip of the shotgun he taught you how to use, searing into his brain the way your hair is curling in the humidity and the pretty silhouette of your nose. The inky brush of your eyelashes. When he’d picked you up two years ago in Arizona, you couldn’t even set a trap. Now here you are, willing to do the unthinkable for a child you don’t even know. 

Would he still have stopped to throw you in the back of his truck, all that time ago,  knowing now that going with him would end this way? That you’d never even make it to 30? That being with him was a death sentence? 

He’s not strong enough to say that he wouldn’t have done everything exactly the same, and he thinks that’s fucking selfish. But what was his life without you? Knowing your warmth and your life and your joy, could he have ever consciously chosen to live without it? He’d never meant for this to happen. He had promised to protect you, not to leave you behind to die in some dirty shack. After all you’d been through and all the cards you’d been dealt, he’d sworn to make sure he’d take care of you for the rest of your life. That pain and death would be kept at bay. That you wouldn’t have to worry anymore. 

 Anger and despair and frustration all battled for dominance inside him, leaving him raw and broken  in front of you. He’d coped with so much death, lost Sarah’s mom, then Sarah. Nearly lost Ellie. How could he give you up like this? Even when there was no other choice, no other way?. 

In that moment he feels completely pathetic in the light of your bravery. Guilt crawls up his spine, twisting and pulling. He’s failed you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You, frustrated,  sniff back the sob that’s trying to break out of you. “No, Joel, it’s-”

“I’ll come back. Tonight.”  He interrupts, tormented. His own sorrow crashing over you both. You shake your head. He can’t. Plus, you don’t want him to see whatever sorry state you’re sure your body will be in by that time. 

“You gotta stay with Ellie, Joel.” 

 Reminded suddenly of the book in your bag and not wanting to forget your promise, you use your good leg to boot it over towards Joel. “Here,” Worn canvas slides along the floor and he retrieves it with his free arm, pulling the strap over and looking inside, realizing he’s looking at the book you’d been yarning your mouth off about.

“Promised her i’d pick something up. She was so mad at me for leaving her behind.” You offer, laughter mute and subdued. 

He pulls it out. 

“Give it to her yourself.” He returns, pleading. 

Your gaze softens. “You’ll tell her I’m sorry?”

He curses and runs a hand over his face and his pain in tandem with your own is unbearable. So you close your eyes. The smell of him is still so intoxicating and you breathe deeply, willing it to linger, to comfort you.

The truth is, you’re only being brave for his sake. You know that if you let him see how afraid you really are, he’ll never be able to leave. You lean back against the wall, hoping it will ground you.

All of a sudden, his warm mouth is on your forehead pressing a kiss into you, and the intensity behind it blinds you despite the fact you can’t see anything anyway. The kind of kiss that’s supposed to stay with you. The only way he can. You’re dizzy, suddenly. You defy the urge to reach up and keep him held tight against you forever. 

“I’ll bring you home, I promise.”  The hope in his voice almost breaks you. If you do your job right, there won’t be enough of you left for that.  

“I’ll be here.” You let the sobs tear through your body, gripping the shotgun as if it’s the only thing grounding you. Your heart squeezes painfully. Sounds become louder. Boots on gravel, metal clicking. You were out of time five minutes ago. 

“Go.” You cry, unable to hold it back. You are fatigued now, everything hurts, every cell in your body is aching for rest and comfort and he has to leave now. 

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He has to force his legs to move, every bone in his body, every instinct denying the act. The weight of the little girl in his arms barely registering. She’s passed out from the shock, breathing steadily against him.  He can’t tear his eyes away from your shaking hands as he backs towards the door. 

 I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. Please forgive me.  Please be alive. I’ll come for you. 

The thud of his boots grows quieter, and you wait several minutes (trying not to fall into the clutches of a greedy sleep) until there’s nothing but the encroaching sound of your killers and the hum of their vehicles. Blinking away your tears, you realize with mid-sob that a warm weight is over your lap, stifling the chill that ripples away from you like waves in a pond. Eyes adjusting back to the light, you  discover the culprit is his tattered, worn leather jacket. Of course. It’s been placed over you so carefully, so quietly, that you didn’t even notice. 

Clutching it against you, you allow yourself to let go now. You cry and cry and cry until you’re empty, choking, throat hoarse. You don’t care if the FEDRA boys hear you, you don’t care if anyone hears you. Joel’s gone now, he won’t have to listen to this pathetic demonstration of your fear. 

Please, God, let her live. Let her live, let her live. I’ll do anything you want. Keep her alive for me. 

Joel’s not a believer in higher power, but you are, so he prays to your god anyway, as the scent of fir smothers the air, and the cacophony of the forest sounds too much like you. Reminds him of your sweet smile and the honey in your brown eyes as the sun dipped into them. How many afternoons passed by, lazily drenched in summer heat, like two cats gorged on life? How many moments has he spent, mapping and memorizing you? He’s walked away, but everything inside him is still there, in the shack with you. He hopes that you won’t be cold now. That his jacket will keep you warm enough and that maybe, maybe, you can slip away before FEDRA even gets to you. Maybe you can hide. 

It’s logically close to impossible.  

He feels like a hypocrite, muttering promises under his breath as he stumbles through the night, and wonders how could he pray now? Offer words up to a God who had condemned you both here? And who was God to choose? To turn the wheel, throw the dice on who’s life to give and who’s to take away? How was that fair at all? To take away your future like that? His future, too? 

He also makes different kinds of promises. Ones he’ll keep to himself that involve his baser self. An eye for an eye. They took you from him? He’d take everything. Destroy the whole organisation from the inside out. 

FEDRA and the whole damn world could go blind for all he fucking cared. He wasn’t fighting for justice. You deserved more than that. You deserved to have somebody avenge you. You deserved to know that you meant enough to somebody, were loved enough, that they’d tear apart the world for you.

 He doesn’t think he’s ever run so fast in his life. 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

You hiccup,  wiping your blurry eyes on the back of your hand with your shirt. His shirt. Sniffing and hoping Joel won’t find your face covered in tear stains and snot after you die, (despite the absurdity of it, you’d be so embarassed) you cock his shotgun and take a preliminary aim out of the corner of the hole in the glass window pane. By your own calculations, It’ll take the six men at the bottom of the winding driveway about a minute to get up the lawn, and you need to give Joel as big of a head start as you possibly can, although he’s likely already far enough away. You spot three more younger boys bringing up the rear.  They walk slowly and using your other hand, you pull the leather jacket over you, settling against the window frame further because you’re tired and you’re  done moving. 

“Come out with your hands up, Miller!” 

You bite your lip and stay silent. You wanted to wait as long as possible before engaging them and having them realize Joel isn’t with you, but one of the older officers with a “commander” badge fastened to his lapel slipped your eyeline and has come far too close to your position near the door.  You decide quickly that you’ll pick him off before he can spot you. With a twitch of your index and a bang that’s absorbed into the hungry night sky, the man’s dead in the dirt with a splatter the size of Texas covering his front. 

Unexpected chaos erupts. The younger officers are not as well trained as you had assumed they would be. To your dismay, they immediately panic,  breaking formation and begin firing.  Your own shots only take down two more. 

The planks of the door blister and break and shrapnel and dust fills the air. You instinctively turn away from the window.  “Shit!” 

You have seconds left to reload and you’re too slow. But you’d known it was coming to this. Every moment of your life, every choice you made, leading you to this moment. You know you must look pathetic like this, crouched under the frame, bleeding out, cowering. In pain. But you’d do it all again for him.  Joel was safe now, he’d make sure Johanna got back. That was all that mattered. 

Your life in exchange for theirs. You, for two futures. More than fair. Jackson wouldn’t suffer through the winter. Ellie would still get her book. Joel still had time, he could find someone else, maybe even love again. 

Boots thud and voices yell and a piercing pain suddenly blooms from your chest. Vermillion unraveling over your chest like an unfurling flower in spring. The door collapses into the frame and soldiers spill into the shack. Everything is hazy and distorted, shapes dissolving this way and that, voices shrill and every noise and sensation amplified. Faceless men. Toy soldiers. The overstimulation is painful, and you feel someone shaking you - hard. Another is clicking his fingers in front of your eyes, trying to keep you conscious. 

“Hey, look at me! Miller. Where’s Miller?!” 

“Don’t worry boys.” You cough out, laughing.  It’s strange in your ears. Everything is ringing.  When Joel finds your shot-up corpse, he’ll lose his mind, and as much as you hate that he’ll have to see it, you get a kind of sick satisfaction knowing they’ll have to suffer at his hands for what they’ve done. That your pain won’t go unpunished.

“He’ll…he’ll be back for-” You can’t manage to finish  because blood has backed up in your throat, but you’re sure they get the picture.  The iron taste is  final in your mouth, filling up your lungs.  You stop trying to hold yourself up, there’s no point. The soldiers are yelling, still trying to communicate with you. You’re done now. 

As you hit the floor with an exhausted thud, you close your eyes against the sensory overload and it’s as if your subconscious knows you must be on the way out, because as FEDRA hands pull and grab at your shivering body and slick liquid pools on your stomach and waist, you’re enveloped  by the arrest of your own memories, soaked in endorphins, dripping in affection. Your favourites flash before your eyes. The afternoon in the wheat field, your poems, the first time you’d met Ellie. His hands on your body for the first time, delicious currents rippling through your skin at his touch. His kisses, soft and luxurious, every touch for you so contradictive to everything else he had to handle in his life. The fire in your veins a result of his devotion to your pleasure - a way for him to reconcile the other things he’d had to do before you came along. 

You know it isn’t real, know it’s that thing that happens to your brain when you die, but in your delirium you can swear that you hear Ellie’s tinkling laugh, feel the tender relief of Joel’s hands hot over your skin, melting away the bitter pain of the cold. You know you feel his breath on your neck and his kiss on your temple. You take it all, and you reach out - knowing he’s there. Whatever happens now, wherever you go, he’ll hold you. He’ll keep you safe. 

“It’s cold here. It hurts, Joel.” 

“‘S okay baby. I’m here now….no more pain. No more cryin’.” 

He’s mouth-wateringly warm. 

“I’m so afraid…so…so tired” You try to remember how you got here and what you were doing, but everything is so heavy around you, suppressing you.  

“I know y’are. I know. You did well, sweetheart, we’re so proud of you. You’re so brave. My brave girl. But I need y’to let go and rest now, can you do that for me? ”  

Of course. You’ll do anything he asks. You acquiesce easily, curling into him. So, so sleepy… 

“Okay. Will you stay with me?” 

“ I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 

You let go and dip gently into the black, waiting abyss.

[chuuyascumsock]

Okay soooo i kindaa had a silly idea and ran with it…. Fem!dazai who’s a monsterfucker with an AFAB!reader who is ALSO monsterfucker?

-Imagine fem!dazai finding out her s/o is a monsterfucker~

Imagine the two of them on Dazais bed just rambling on to eachother and then reader just says “honestly sometimes id just love to be fucked dumb by a tentacle y’know?”

And dazai just nods like “yass girll me too~” but she has this sneaky look in her eye.

-“Zai?whats up??oh no…what did you just think of🤨”

-“Oh no just…hold on”

She goes over to her closet and picks up a box and brings it back to the bed and opens it.

And lo and behold its fuckin filled with an assortment of monster-dicks.

Reader then looks up at dazai like 😳

And all she says is “ive got way better than a tentacle babe~ take your pick”

And when reader can’t pick on,she just covers their eyes and makes em pick one.

Imagine the rest of the night she just uses them all on you so you can find your absolute favorite…

Well at least that’s the excuse she made to get you on board.

Imagine dazai just goin to townn on you with each and ever one in the box,trying some of her favorite ones twice(just to make sure you get a proper feel for it ofc! she definitely doesnt love seeing your face scrunch up and relax as each one enters your pretty little cunt,each one a different shape,size,length and girth.)

Imagine her going so deep,it rubs against your cervix…imagine cumming so many times that at this point neither of you have kept count accurately.

Imagine her stimulating your clit with a little bullet vibrator as she thrusts the foreign shapes into you revelling in the way you moan out her name and grip the sheets,your toes curling and your back arching.

Imagine her using a vibrating one and just keeping it inside you,buried to the hilt and making u beg to have it pulled out.

Imagine her running her finger along the edge of your cunt,gathering some of your slick and demanding that you clean the mess off her fingers in exchange for taking it out of you.

Imagine by the time your done you feel so sore and exhausted that you can barely even get up to go have a post-coital shower.

Imagine waking up the next day to see that each and every one of the little gadgets had been haphazardly thrown back into their box. Only your decided favorites lying nicely cleaned and dry on your night stand.

Imagine getting just a little sweet revenge on her and buying her one she doesnt have just to use it on her until she cant walk. Honestly I doubt she’d mind~ I mean she gets to skip work the next day, AND she gets to be your little pillow princess~ It was a win win situation!

I hope its okie and not too much😭

ALSO IM SO SORRY I DIDNT KNOW U WERE LACTOSE INTOLERANT!!!!

Lets just imagine my icon is um lactose free cheese?(is that a thing?)

Anywho! OMG GOOD LUCK FOR YOUR EXAMS!!!! Ive got exams on monday too #A Levels🥲 I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!! YOUVE GOT THIS!!!!

Stay safe! Study well and i believe in you!

-🧀

DEAR LORD 🧀, WANT SOME WORD COUNT LIMIT WITH THAT ESSAY 😭⁉️

I love how dedicated you are lol.

But you’re missing the part where Fem!Dazai would get a double sided monster dildo just to share with you so you could fuck yourselves stupid on it. And she only gets more enthusiastic about it when your pussies meet in the middle and your clits rub against each other 🤭

OOOO ALSO BONUS BUT UHM, I HAVE A FEM! CHUUYA x READER x FEM! DAZAI SMUT DRAFT SITTING IN MY DOCS THAT WAS ORIGINALLY GOING TO BE WHAT I POSTED INSTEAD OF JUST THE FEM! CHUUYA SMUT 😶 I had the idea written down but I never wrote it. (I want to though.)