#Except for Kylo he’s good

[firerose]

A little teaser for an au I thought of recently……..

What if the sequels had been different?

What if they had more buildup/and a new original villain?

What if Baylan and Shin went to Peridea on their own ( The whole Thrawn, Rebels, Ahsoka stuff happening in the unknown regions being its own series while Peridea would be solely Baylan and Shins)

What if the power calling to Baylan would have been Snoke?

A being bitter and obsessed with breaking the forces cycle just like Baylan

What if Baylan and Shin would have been the reason Snoke was unleashed to our galaxy?

What if Baylan somehow died leaving young scared Shin alone alone with this dark creature that clouds her mind with lies and manipulation (Just like Kylo)

What if Shin would have been a part of the first order in the Sequels?

What if she would have been the founder of the knights of Ren?

[shuttershocky]

It is just as critically important for the Netflix DMC anime to properly portray Vergil (he's going to be there, of course he is) as it is to portray Dante. Their whole shtick is that one is cool by acting uncool and the other is uncool by repeatedly causing mass disasters in an effort to be seen as cool

Dante doesn't smoke. He exclusively eats pizza and ice cream. He gets stabbed twice a week. He unironically says "Woohoo! Yeeha! Watcha!" All the women in his life keep attacking him and then take all of his money, with the exception of Patty, who got rich and decorated Devil May Cry in balloons and ribbons and then stole Dante's ice cream anyway. His nephew kicked him into a statue and impaled him with his own sword when they first met.

Vergil is a grown-ass man running around with a katana cutting down everything but his mommy issues. He loses every fight. He uses hair gel despite not even living in human society. He attacked his dad's enemy to prove he was just as good and they kicked his ass. He made up his own overpowered self-insert devilsona because he kept losing to Dante and then it kicked his ass. His humansona looks like if Kylo Ren googled what emo was. He killed millions of people for a fruit that makes you stronger and then Dante kicked his ass. And then his son kicked his ass. He has never paid child support. He answered Dante's statement of "You cut off your own son's arm for this?" with "My son means nothing to me" and then gets surprised when told that Nero is his son, implying he's cut so many arms off that his son being Nero never even entered his mind. His own doppleganger summon occasionally dances outside of his control, making him die of cringe.

Meanwhile, Nero, left unsupported by both his father and his uncle for most of his life, got out of a cult, married his love, runs a soup kitchen, has a stable job, can actually hire a mechanic to help out, and owns a car, but somehow he's the loser in the family.

[worstcharacterpoll]

[Image description: A tournament bracket of 32 contenders, labeled "Tumblr's most hated." The matchups on the left are Vriska vs. Pearl from SU; Rex from Victorious vs. Rick Sanchez; Ansem the Wise vs. Gul Dukat; Kylo Ren vs. Kokichi Ouma; Scrappy Doo vs. Sheldon Cooper; Pierre from Stardew vs. Mort from Madagascar; Seraphine from League vs. Heimskr; and Jurgen Leitner vs. Andre Glacier. The matchups on the right are Walter White vs. Light Yagami; Buck Cluck vs. Ross Geller; Bramblestar vs. Starlight Glimmer; Goro Akechi vs. Pariston Hill; Katsuki Bakugo vs. Berdly; Angel Dust vs. the Impostor; Olaf from Frozen vs. Hooty; and Zenos viator Galvus vs. Tony Stark. The bracket is red on a black background. End ID]

Here is the official bracket for the most Hated Character on Tumblr! Each round will last 24 hours, with a 12 hour break in between. Round 1 should start Feb 9, 2023 at 9:00 AM CST.

As a reminder, this tournament is for the characters that you hate the most, so always vote for your least favorite of the two options. The winner will be publicly executed.

FAQ under cut:

Q: Why did you put in x character and not y character? Aren't there more hateable characters from that franchise?

A: I wanted to keep the competition light-hearted, funny, and interesting. I intentionally avoided most shitty parent characters, dictators, characters who were meant to be hated, etc., as well as characters heavily associated with bigotry and sexual assault, and gravitated towards characters that were more divisive in fandom. Exceptions were only made for characters I am familiar enough with and can use my own judgement for. Using Zenos as an example: He is a villain who is very evil and meant to be hated, which I mostly avoided when taking suggestions for things I wasn't familiar with myself. However, he's very divisive between people who think he's a good interesting villain, people who don't think he's a good villain and don't like him in the story at all, and people who want him carnally. Walter White is also meant to be hated, but he has a meme status, and as a villain protagonist I think he's more interesting than most "meant to be hated" characters. Also, there are certain franchises that I simply didn't want to include. If JK Rowling wasn't such a real and horrible political presence, owing all her influence to Harry Potter, I would've definitely put Snape on the poll. As it stands, I don't really want to give HP any attention. TL;DR answer: Because it's funnier that way

Q: But I LIKE that character :(

A: As mentioned before, I specifically gravitated more towards characters who are more divisive rather than universally hated. They are usually more interesting, and there is more variety with those types of characters - you don't have shitty dad character #1 vs. shitty dad character #2. I actually looked for "anti-(character)" tags and discourse about that character when making decisions about who to include. lol If you actually like some of these characters (uh, my condolences), vote against them in their respective matchups.

Q: Is it too late to suggest a replacement?

A: Yes.

Q: Why are you doing this?

A: I feed off of hatred and violence. I want to see who tumblr users REALLY hate.

Q: Why Pearl?

A: It was quite a while ago now so I get it if people don't remember, but Pearl discourse used to be a big thing and people argued that she was irredeemable for many of the things she did early on in the show. If you remember the "Pearl hates the Irish" meme, that was a parody of how much people hated her

Q: Why Hooty?

A: I haven't seen the Owl House but I'm told many people think he's annoying. Also he's voiced by Alex Hirsch and fuck that guy he did my boy Ford so dirty I'm still mad about this

Q: Why Starlight Glimmer?

A: MLP:FiM is another show I didn't really watch but she was a villain who got redeemed and became a main character and a lot of people think her redemption arc was rushed and botched and she actually made a lot of people quit watching the show. One of my close friends really really really hates her and I don't think that's an isolated incident

Q: Why Berdly?

A: Annoying. Personally I think his arc of becoming less annoying was pretty fun but a lot of people still hate him.

Q: Why Bakugo (instead of Mineta)?

A: I actually debated this a lot and held a preliminary poll which Mineta actually won. But then I decided democracy is dead because Mineta really wouldn't be as interesting as Bakugo in this tournament because he's basically universally hated. Bakugo is more interesting because people who hate him REALLY hate him, while people who love him REALLY love him. Kind of like Vriska. I think. I never read Homestuck and I don't plan on ever doing so.

Q: Why Tony Stark?

A: He's a heavily divisive character because he's a war profiteer billionaire with a superiority complex, but the narrative treats him as a morally pure hero. Also, he's MCU Spider-Man's mentor and most of MCU Spider-Man is basically defined by Tony Stark and he's not allowed to be his own character. There's a bunch of other stuff but I didn't watch and I don't care about most of the MCU. Personally I'm a really big Spider-Man fan and I despise him for what he did to Peter Parker but I shall refrain from making this a long rant.

Q: Why did you include characters that you're not familiar with?

A: I didn't want to exclusively have characters from my interests. I wanted a bit of variety. Before the poll started, I accepted submissions for candidates, and basically trusted submitters to send in decent characters. Some of the characters I ended up with may go against the vague guidelines I set for myself, which kind of sucks, but that's how it is now.

Q: This bracket sucks.

A: Make your own tournament then. I'm just some guy making a tournament on tumblr dot com for free. Don't take it too seriously.

[agroupiewhore]

Some random headcanons about what it would be like to date Enzo and a little imagine with him. I haven't wrote anything in ages so apologies if this is shite. Please no hate but let me know if you like this etc. I am always welcome to feedback/ thoughts/ comments/ concerns. Sorry in advance for grammar and spelling and punctuation

🐟🐳🐙🔵🪱

(THIS MANS JAWLINE IS MORE STRUCTURED THAN MY LIFE)

*Disclaimer: This is my own work and my own self-indulgent ideas, none of this is based in reality. And warnings for making out etc, nothing too explicit (PG-13)

✨️ There is no way you ever have to carry your own bag. This man is rushing in to help you. Whether that's your handbag on date night or all of the shopping bags after your weekly grocery shop run. And yes, he refuses to make 2 trips to the car.

✨️ Speaking of weekly shops runs, Enzo is that boyfriend who always pushes the trolley/ cart.

✨️ Matching Adidas trackies. Never quite knowing whose joggers/ t shirts/ jackets that belonged to.

✨️ Wearing his boxers after sex to go down and make a fresh batch of coffee.

✨️ Is always entertaining you with unusual facts and information about Uruguay and is keen for you to learn and embrace his culture and he is keen to learn more about yours.

✨️ Matching your nail varnish to his bow tie/ tie/ shirt colour etc.

✨️ Midnight beach walks where you tell eachother all your hopes and dreams and desires, all the 'deep stuff' you feel you can't tell eachother when it's daylight as it seems to real.

✨️ This man can dance. He has so much natural rhythm and is such a natural. He'll always be the first one up on the dance floor at parties and cast parties and would much rather spend the time on the dance floor with you rather than talking. Also at home will put on whatever dance music he wants and will just start dancing with you.

✨️ Dressing up as Kylo Ren and Rey for Halloween. "Well I mean... I think we should go as them, it would look good" "Fine"

A Perfect Day

You went to open the fridge to find the pouring cream for your iced coffees but were distracted by the note attached to the front, wrote in Enzo's beautiful cursive handwriting. You smiled to yourself as you read it. He always left the most beautiful love notes and this one was no exception. It simply read "You're my happy place". You took the note off the fridge and folded it neatly and placed it in your dressing gown pocket. You were saving them all, for what you weren't sure, but you pictured a future for you and enzo, maybe one day sticking all the notes down into a scrap book and passing it onto your daughter. To show her how much she should be loved by another. You smiled at the thought and opened the fridge, finally, to find the pouring cream. After Enzo had finished filming, touring and surving the awards season the two of you finally had some time and moved in together. The first thing he had done was gone out and found the most fanciest coffee machine. You guys hadn't even bought a bed yet at that point. You finished making your drinks and went back upstairs. Enzo was sat up in bed, shirtless.

"Well damn, it's hot this morning." You laughed as you sat back in bed next to him, being careful not to spill anything. "Here my angel." You passed him the iced coffee. He carefully took it from you and took that first heavenly sip.

"Hmm, perfecto." He said closing his eyes with a satisfied smile on his face. "I do not know how I survived without having you around, only you can make my coffee right."

"I'm sure there is someone else who could, I could always teach them, it's not too hard. There aren't any crazy secret ingredients." You replied "I just make it with love, I think that's why it's so good." Enzo leaned over and kissed you. "I love you so much, mi amor." He said as he took your hand. "What would you like to do today?"

"We need to go shopping to get a couple things and I was thinking maybe we could have a go at making our own pizzas for dinner?" You suggested, admiring him.

"You always have the best ideas, I have a couple more things to add to the list so please don't let me forget my love." Enzo said as he got out of bed. It would never get old seeing how beautiful he was. It was like he had been sculpted by the world's most incredible artist whose attention to detail no one was able to match. You felt so lucky to not only be with one so handsome but to also have discovered someone with a soul that was equally as beautiful. Enzo gave all of his love and time to you. He was always there, his strength and resilience gave you strength. He was so honoured and humbled to have been given such an important role in the film and the sincerity in which he handled his part was inspiring to you. He never got angry when you would call him in the middle of the night due to the time differences or when he had come home to see that you had used his entire bottle of his most expensive cologne. You had missed him a lot while he was away filming so decided one night to spray a little of it on to the pillow next to you, then a little onto your wrist; just to make it seem like he was there with you, however next thing you knew you'd unintentionally sprayed the entire bottle around the house and it was now empty. Enzo found it to be a most romantic gesture and when he left again to complete filming took a pot of your lip balm to apply each night so it could feel like you'd just kissed him. You heard the shower turn on and got up from the bed again to decide what to wear for today. It was a simple errand day so you grabbed a pair of Adidas joggers and a black long sleeved top.

"Wow, you look so beautiful." He said staring at you.

"What? These?" You laughed. "It's a step up from pajamas."

"You look perfect, I love it so much I will also wear mine." He said as he began looking in the wardrobe.

"Maybe one day you could surprise everyone and wear Nike." You laughed. You admired him once again as he got dressed and then you both finished your coffees. Ofcourse Enzo insisted on driving and you sat in the passenger seat and played DJ. Enzo was a cautious driver, especially whilst you were in the car. He could never understand men who drove dangerously to try and impress their partners. How could he risk your life? He couldn't live with himself if anything happened to you, especially if he was the cause of it. You thought is was sweet how he was always so gentle and careful with you. He parked up outside the supermarket.

"I can get my door." You said quickly, opening it as soon as he turned off the ignition. A few times Enzo had managed to run around to open your car door whilst you rummaged around for your handbag or wallet. He was always the gentleman.

"You know I love opening it for you." He said sweetly as he linked his hand with yours. "I'll push the cart."

"I wasn't even going to try." You laughed. Enzo had to push the trolley. He just had to, it wasn't an option for you ever. It made him feel helpful and supportive. You took the list out of your pocket as you walked in with him and began looking down the aisles.

"We have to get these crisps, you'll love them." You said, standing on your tip toes.

"I got it baby." Enzo said, barely having to extend his arm to grab the pack. There were times when his height came in handy and this was certainly one of them. One time the two of you had a fight that had started off as a result of something so small and petty and then seemingly didn't stop and just kept getting worse and worse. It was the first night the two of you went to bed without apologies or saying how much you loved one another. The next day you didn't say a word to him, you'd returned from work and Enzo had moved all of your favourite snacks and drinks to the top shelves so you had no choice but to talk to him.

"And can you get those ones as well, my love. That flavour looks good too." You said pointing to the packet next to it.

"Anything for you." He said, grabbing everything you asked for. You carried on walking through the supermarket getting everything you needed to make pizza later.

"I'll get this." You said, putting your card on the card reader first.

"No, no!" Enzo insisted. "Baby, we talked about this".

"I'll pay." You said "It's fine honey". Enzo muttered in Spanish about how he should be the one paying. The two of you walked back to the car and together loaded the shopping into the back of the car and drove back.

"Are you going to let me carry any of the shopping?" You asked.

"Not a chance." Enzo laughed and leaned over to kiss you. You kissed him back and gently tugged on the back of his hair to be able to kiss down his beautifully structured jawline.

"I love you so much." You said, between kisses.

"I love you so much more." He said. He kissed the tip of your nose and rested his forehead against yours. His soft eyelashes gently brushing your skin. "I got the shopping, don't worry." You got out of the car and opened the door for him. Enzo grabbed all the bags and followed you in.

"Baby, one day all the bags are going to break and I don't know what you will do." You said as you began putting everything away. "Leave the pizza ingredients out, my love."

"Anything for you, I will cut mine in to a heart shape." He said, doing as you asked him. You smiled at him.

"I might try and do a star or something, I don't know." You said. "Maybe the shape of a coffee bean."

"You know me so well." He said smiling as the last of the shopping was put away. The sun was beginning to set and the sky was turning a beautiful pink colour. You went out onto the balcony and looked out. The view was beautiful, just like your life now. You heard the doors slide open and Enzo stepped outside. You continued to look out as you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer. He kissed your neck gingerly taking in the smell of your perfume and moisturiser. The two of you fitting together perfectly, the final missing piece of the jigsaw to your life.

[sugar-coat-it]

Mask kink with 2016 Halloween Matty <3

This is so specific, idk who the fuck is going to read this. Anyways, I’m a slut, hope you like my very niche love for Kylo Ren Matty (IT’S LITERALLY DECEMBER TOO, HALLOWEEN IS SO OVER I NEED TO BE PUT DOWN)

Fem! Reader 

Contains: Mask kink, unprotected penetrative sex (riding), low-key filthy dirty talk, praise, degradation (light), kink exploration, pussy slapping, hella pet names, them being sweetie pies 

—----------------------------------------

Matty is preparing his Kylo Ren costume for his Halloween show, totally unaware of his girlfriend’s raging mask kink.

—---------------------------------------

“Right, if I look like a wanker, I need you to just tell me!” Matty shouts from the hotel bathroom.

You smile to yourself as his voice echoes through the room, having been patiently waiting for him to show you the big surprise he had planned for the show in a few weeks on Halloween. 

“I’m sure it’s fine, Matty!” you call back, trying to coax him out of the bathroom.

Finally, he obliges, swinging the bathroom door open dramatically. The second he steps out, he’s swinging around a red lightsaber, trying to imitate the noises they make in the movies, all while dressed as Kylo Ren. Your eyebrows raise with a surprised laugh as he comes towards you, pretending to slice you with the fake, light-up lightsaber.

“Nah, never mind, I definitely look cool as shit,” he gloats, and you can tell he’s got that boyish grin on his face even from under the mask.

Your boyfriend tosses the lightsaber down onto the bed, now holding his hand out like he’s using the force. You give a playfully unimpressed stare, crossing your arms as he continues his antics.

“I’d force choke you, but you’d probably like it, you slut,” he rasps, trying to sound like Adam Driver but failing so miserably. He barely got the sentence out before he started giggling his loud, unfiltered laugh.

“Very funny,” you say straight-faced, pushing his tensed hand away from your face.

You take a moment to fully drink in the sight of him now that he’s not flailing the lightsaber around. He was draped in all-black fabric, leather gloved hands, and a mask covering all his features except a slit for his eyes. You swallow thickly, your mind going places it definitely should not because of a silly costume. 

“Yeah, you look cool, I like it,” you smile, trying not to be obvious with the way you’re attempting to process all of this… your gorgeous boyfriend wearing a mask like that, making a simmering feeling pool deep inside you.

“Uhuh. The band’s all gonna dress up like Star Wars characters too, it’s really mint,” he grins, practically bouncing on his heels with how excited he is about the little theme they put together.

As lovely as it all is that the band is doing a themed Halloween show, and it’s Star Wars, and Matty seems thrilled, you’re a little preoccupied with the way he looks with only his pretty brown eyes looking back at you through the space in the mask. 

“Are you listening?” he interrupts, cocking his head at you with some sass to the motion.

You sit up straighter on the bed, acting like you’d been burned by the way he caught you daydreaming. You try to think of an excuse, something, anything, but what comes out is:

“Yes, I’m listening, but also, you look far too good for someone wearing a Star Wars costume you got off Party City.”

You can see his eyebrows raise through the slit in the mask, an amused laugh coming from his throat. Clearly, he didn’t expect the rushed response of praise to come from your lips. Silently, he steps closer. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking, growing emboldened by how enamored you seem at the moment. He places a gloved hand on your chin, holding it to force you to look up at him as he towers over your seated position. You can feel heat prickling at your cheeks at the intense eye contact, his eyes are dark, from what you can see. 

“What? Is it cause you fancy Adam Driver?” he teases, running his thumb over your jawline. 

You shake your head at him, eyes wide as one of your most secret fantasies comes to life. Never in a million years would you have asked Matty to do something like this for you, but now, your wet dream has practically fallen into your lap. With his free hand, he reaches up to start to take the mask off, but you quickly reach to grab his wrist, your body moving faster than your brain. Matty freezes, you can practically see the cogs in his mind turning as he tries to figure out why you stopped him. He’s silent, waiting for you to explain yourself as he raises a puzzled eyebrow at you.

“Could you… keep it on?” you suggest softly as if slowly dipping your toe into the pool of possibilities.

“Keep it on?” he echoes, an amused tone to his voice like he’s not sure if you’re playing with him or not.

You nod slowly, looking a little nervous to be broaching the idea. He chuckles, a newfound darkness to his voice as it starts to click for him. He grips your jaw a little tighter, a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read.

“Ohh, I see,” he says lowly, now moving to sit on the bed and swiftly pull you into his lap.

You swallow hard, anticipation pulsing in your veins as you settle on his lap, his leather-gloved hands resting on your hips. You can see the way Matty’s eyes sparkle with mischief now that you’re closer, only able to read his expressions through the slit in the mask. There’s something thrilling about it that you can’t put your finger on. He leans in, getting closer to your ear, voice slightly muffled by the plastic as he whispers to you, using this newfound discovery to his full advantage.

“Have you got like a kink for that or something?” he teases, knowing full well that you must if you’re reacting the way you are.

You’re silent, lips pressed together in a thin line as you neither confirm nor deny his accusation. He gives your hips a squeeze, a triumphant chuckle rumbling in his chest. As slightly embarrassing as this all is, him having this edge on you is making you hot and bothered. 

“Aw, my dirty girl,” Matty coos, his thumbs now rubbing little circles into your hip bones.

Your breath catches in your throat at that. You’ll never be used to how his silver tongue always seems to conjure up just the right words to get you soaked. Your boyfriend’s talent with words doesn’t just extend to his songwriting, he’s also the filthiest dirty talker you’ve ever heard. 

“Y’know, if you didn’t want to see my mug while we fuck, you could have just said so, fucking hell,” he laughs, holding a hand to his chest dramatically in mock offense. 

“You know that’s not it, Matty,” you quip quickly, with a roll of your eyes.

“I know, I know,” he relents, bumping his forehead against yours apologetically. The gesture is a little more awkward than intended with the mask on his face, but it’s still cute. 

A moment of silence passes like neither of you knows where to go from here. You’ve never actually considered the logistics of your little infatuation. Deciding to make a move and break the tension, you slowly lift your shirt over your head, watching as Matty’s eyes instantly flick down to your chest, letting out a little satisfied hum as his gloved hands slide up your sides. Skilled fingers circle around your back, undoing the clasp of your bra in a split second. Letting out a shaky breath, you let the sensation of the cool leather of his gloves on your tits put a haze on your mind. The roughness of where they’re stitched together grazes over your nipples as he cups your breasts. 

“How’s this gonna work? I can’t even kiss you,” Matty pouts, giving your nipple a pinch between his thumb and his forefinger. 

You whine, back arching at the sudden rush of pleasure he allows you, shamelessly sliding further down in his lap. Your hips are right over the slight bulge in his trousers now, you bite your lip at the feeling. Need is clouding your thoughts as you try and piece together how you want this to go, lewd images flashing through your head. 

“I can still ride you though,” you suggest, rolling your hips down against his to punctuate your point. 

Matty grins beneath the mask, you can see it in the way his eyes twinkle at you. He circles his thumbs around your nipples, relishing in the way your back arches so prettily for him as he does it. He only grows harder as you grind onto him, a little grunt leaving his lips at the delicious friction. 

“I like the sound of that,” he murmurs, eyes growing more lidded at the idea, “Should I take everything off but the mask, then?” 

You nod at him with an excited smile. Matty can’t help but chuckle adoringly at how eager you seem to try this out. He claps his hands down on your ass suddenly, making you squeak as the resounding smack rings out in the quiet hotel room. He then carefully moves you off of his lap to shed himself of the cheap costume, making intense eye contact with you as he undresses. That’s one thing about Matty, he absolutely loves making you squirm with unflinching eye contact, whether he’s fucking you or just trying to get you riled up. And you’ll be damned if it doesn’t work every time. 

With your clothes and his costume in a pile on the floor, he sits against the headboard, his cock hard with pearls of precum dripping against his stomach. He watches you through the slit in the mask as you approach slowly, crawling over to him with the eyes of a siren. The tension is thick in the air as you sit on his thighs, his hands instantly finding their way to your sides, tenderly running along your skin. A shiver licks up your spine at the feeling, but you need so much more than just his fingers ghosting along your body. Your heart thrums in your chest as you stare down at him, totally bared to you except for the mask, his tattooed skin on full display for your eyes to devour. 

“It’s hot as balls under this thing,” Matty grumbles, his hot, heavy breath making it warm under the mask, it’s only getting worse as he gets hornier. 

You give him a look and he tries to relax his body with a sigh, much more intent on pleasing you than anything else, he just likes complaining. His head goes slack with a thunk of the plastic mask against the headboard, making him giggle. You just shake your head at him with a smile, now grabbing hold of him at the base of his cock, lifting your hips over him. His fingers constrict at your sides, holding you still so you can’t sink down onto him, making you look down at him with furrowed brows. 

“Don’t you need me to get you ready first?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You just smile at him coyly, sliding a hand down between your thighs. His eyes are glued to your fingers as you spread your folds for him, showing him just how soaked you are, practically dripping down your thighs. You watch his eyes go wide as he murmurs a breathy “fuck” at the little display. Clearly, you don’t need any preparation. Matty’s hands relax again, allowing you to continue. Looking very pleased with yourself, you run the tip of his cock through the arousal gathered between your thighs, both of you letting out a little sigh at the feeling. Once you felt he was thoroughly slicked with your honey, you align yourself with him and sink slowly, mewling at the feeling of him stretching you out inch by inch. Matty’s head tilts back with a moan as you envelop him perfectly, fingers digging into your hips.

“Ohh, god. Perfect little fucking cunt…” he mutters, pussy drunk already and you’ve only just started.

You rock your hips a few times, just letting yourself adjust to the slight ache of him filling you so snugly, placing your hands on his shoulders to support your body. Your clit drags against his pelvis, catching against his skin as you grind down on him slowly, pulling a moan from your lips. Matty’s hands guide your hips, helping you rock back and forth as he watches you like you’re a work of art before him. 

“C’mon pretty girl, go ahead and fuck yourself on me,” Matty encourages, giving your hips a tap with his fingers. 

You whimper at the gravelly tone of his voice as he lets filth spill from his mind right to his lips. You waste no time following his instructions, starting to bounce in his lap with vigor, looking down for a moment to watch as he disappears inside you. You moan softly every time you drop down onto his shaft, tits bouncing as you move, much to Matty’s pure delight. Your eyes squeeze shut as you tilt your head back, focused on keeping up your pace and listening to the sweet sound of Matty’s grunts and moans.

“Mm, hey, need you to look at me, sweet girl,” Matty groans, reaching back to grab a handful of your ass to get your attention. 

Whining softly, you let your eyes open hazily, looking down at him with wet, parted lips as you pant for him. Your thighs are burning as you keep bouncing in his lap, doing your best to not let the pace falter. You don’t have to see his whole face to know he’s smiling right now, his eyes crinkling at the corners through the slit in the mask.

“Talk to me,” you say softly, a plea for him to make you throb and clench around him with just his words. 

“Yeah? Want me to make you cream all on my cock while I talk dirty to you? You fucking love that shit don’t you?” he rasps, pausing with a moan as you clench hard around him, roughly digging his fingers into the plushness of your ass. 

You watch in awe as his eyes roll back, pretty toffee-colored irises almost disappearing beyond his eyelids. Fuck, you don’t even have to see the rest of his features to know how good he’s feeling right now. 

“Fuuuucking hell,” he drawls, “Fucking clenching ‘round me like that, that’s my girl,”

Reaching around to your front, Matty places a firm slap on your cunt, the wet sound of it is honestly pornographic, especially followed by the loud yelp you make at the feeling. 

“Fuck! Matty-” you start, but you’re cut off by your own squeal as he lands a few more quick spanks to your sopping pussy. 

Your hips stutter as your velvety walls clamp around him hard, feeling so good that you almost forget that you’re supposed to be riding him. You regain your rhythm when he begins bucking up into you, aiding you in fucking yourself on him. Your nails dig into his shoulder as you continue, moaning wantonly as he stares up at you intensely, eyes dark with the shadow of the mask. He knows his girl well enough to know that now’s the time to help ease you over the edge into euphoria. 

“Beautiful girl… ohh, just look at you,” he admires, moving to slowly circle two of his fingers around your clit, “Taking my cock like a dream, aren’t you, love?”

You cry out as he starts toying with your clit, inching closer and closer to sweet release as that feeling inside you builds, tightening familiarly. His name falls from your lips like a mantra, your mind too far gone to think of anything else. Fuck, god bless cheap Star Wars costumes from Party City. 

“Matty- Matty, M’gonna cum-” you gasp, your back arching as your orgasm rears its head. 

At that, he speeds up his fingers, hips snapping up into you with a vengeance to get you there. He wants, no, he *needs* to see you fall apart on top of him. His eyes narrow with focus as his skillful fingers rub at your clit, bracing you with a hand at your lower back. 

“I know, I know baby, feels so good, huh?” he coos between heavy breaths, “Such a good girl for me sweetheart, fuck. Cum for me, angel.” And you do, oh, you do. A broken cry wracks through your body, shaking all over as he gets rougher with you, sending you hurdling into the abyss of deep pleasure. Any semblance of rhythm in your hips is gone now, bucking wildly in his lap as the building feeling snaps inside you. Matty watches you with wide eyes, cock throbbing inside you as he relishes in you making a mess of yourself for him. He’ll never get over how beautiful you look when you cum, your head tossed back in a silent cry, the sheen of sweat on your skin making you look like you’re glowing. He gently rubs at your lower back while working his fingers against you, easing you through your orgasm lovingly while fucking up into your tight cunt. You’re an angel to him. He spills inside you with a whine and a rushed warning to you, unable to hold back with how fucking amazing you look right now, shaking on top of him like that. You gasp hazily as you feel his cum paint your insides, warmth flooding you as he finishes with eager thrusts. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans, going limp against the headboard as his arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest to hold you, deft fingers now carding through your damp hair. 

Your whimpers start to taper off now, just letting yourself rest against your beautiful boyfriend’s shoulder, legs quivering a bit as you feel him start to soften inside you. With a huff, he rips the mask off of his face and tosses it to the edge of the bed. Blinking your eyes open, you can’t help but breathily laugh at how his damp curls stick to his face, he wasn’t kidding about how hot it was under there. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh at your boyfriend that melted his fucking face off for your sake,” he chuckles, digging his fingers into your sides as revenge. 

You yelp, hurriedly grabbing at his wrists to keep him from tickling you. He just laughs, tilting his head forward to rest it against your forehead now, his damp curls framing his face prettily. He leans down slightly to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. You’re both flushed and smell of sex, skin warm to the touch as you melt into the other's embrace.

“Thank youuu,” you sing, truly grateful that he was so open to trying this for you, “It was really, really hot,”

“Glad you had fun, love. And, y’know, when I’m on stage with this on, I’m only gonna be able to think of you riding my dick,” he grins, hands wandering to give your ass a teasing squeeze. 

Your cheeks burn a bit at his comment, a similar grin spreading across your lips. As fun as this was, you missed seeing that smile. 

“Lucky you,” you whisper, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. 

[saphronethaleph]

So a sort of look at a structure one could do for the Sequel Trilogy, admittedly with hindsight.

Opening sequence? Basically the same, except that Poe is meeting with a Resistance spy - the data he's got is the evidence that means the First Order is more than just a rando Remnant faction but is a serious threat. Then the stolen TIE crashes but Finn and Poe link up together. They meet BB- and Rey, and the four of them escape on a ship - possibly the Falcon, but it could be another of the same type, they're supposed to be common. Alternatively make up a new ship type they steal and have that be the Iconic Ship of the trilogy.

Team dynamic is Poe Flies, Finn Shoots, Rey Fixes.

They're heading straight to the Resistance, or that's the plan - they may need to briefly detour somewhere if their ship got damaged in the escape (if so, this is where they visit Maz).

The Resistance is explicitly described as a deniable New Republic operation which is fighting this specific Remmant faction - at the moment. They've fought others before, they're kind of like knights errant, and they have at least one Jedi (let's say Qu Rahm) who gives both Finn and Rey some training.

The Jedi Order as a whole is not involved with the First Order fight because it's utterly routine, there's dozens of Remnant factions... at least until BB-8's information reveals that the First Order has Kylo Ren associated with it, and also the existence of Starkiller Base.

The knowledge of BOTH of those things means that the Jedi Order is able to evacuate their current temple (Naboo or Yavin? Either way it should be a known planet) just in time before it gets blown the fuck up by Starkiller base. Then there's tension involving the need to swat SK base quickly, which mostly goes as per the original film.

In the second film:

The Resistance is still tiny, and the First Order's actions have promoted them from "just another Remnant faction" to "holy fuck" and they're starting to weld the Remnant back together. It is actually not widely known that Starkiller base got destroyed and the First Order is using intimidation tactics to pretend they're unbeatably strong - not helped by how the Resistance genuinely is pretty weak, nobody on the Republic side wants to be the first to jump, and Leia is trying to talk everyone into giving more support (it does slowly tick up)

The general structure here does need more changes than TFA did, simply to fit into the trilogy as a whole, but here I think a good Driving Question could be finding out who Snoke is and where the Knights of Ren came from. Our Heroes are juggling between getting Jedi training (for Finn and Rey), launching raids on the First Order, and trying to find out Snoke's origin - the latter of which fails, but he does get killed instead by Kylo Ren, who takes control of the First Order.

The main ending note at the end of the film would be the loss of Leia; she tried to turn her son back to the light side with full sincerity, but also went to kill him if he didn't. Neither worked, but he's been badly wounded and about half of the Knights of Ren got taken out. (n.b. if this is cheating to get around Carrie Fisher's death, and it probably is, that could be Luke's demise instead - or both.) Our Heroes might well be involved with a hot-extraction of R2 and C-3P0, who have important details of what happened.

Third film:

The death of Leia/Luke/both has become a rallying point and the New Republic is gearing up for war, which gains momentum with every day that the First Order doesn't blow up a planet; it's made clear in scenes showing Kylo that he's under a huge amount of pressure, because Starkiller Base made promises that the First Order cannot fulfil. In lieu of that they're having to turn instead to more standard means of brutally enforcing their claim to authority, and it's not working out well.

Our Heroes meanwhile are involved in hit-and-fade strikes, one of which sees the death of Qu Rahm. The loss of their teacher causes Rey and Finn some problems, but Poe is the one who pulls them out of it - it doesn't matter if they have a teacher or not, what matters is who they are, and that didn't change because they had a teacher. All he did was open their eyes to who they really were.

That's the realization that drives the stormtrooper-rebellion side of things from the Resistance/Republic side, while on the Imperial side we see Phasma having more and more trouble keeping a lid on things. Finn is The Traitor and basically blamed for everything that goes wrong ever as far as the First Order is concerned.

Running out of options, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren orders a decapitation strike by the entire F.O. fleet on the capital world of the Republic. This is a serious threat, because normal strategic calculus assumes that you just don't DO this, and this is what leads to the big final battle over said capital world - the Republic is outnumbered on a tactical scale, and the available members of the Jedi Order help launch an assault on the First Order flagship to try and disrupt the F.O. fleet.

This is where the Stormtrooper Rebellion is really kicked off, as Finn brings the existing tension in the First Order fleet to a boil (key moment: a Stormtrooper panics at the sight of Jedi, one of their officers tries to gun them down, Finn kills the officer before it can happen; this is the moment that disproves the propoganda and it spreads). Rey gets the big final duel, but it's against Kylo, and on at least two occasions she manages to call in strike support from Poe flying outside in his starfighter. This means the final battle is the Jedi Order versus the Knights of Ren on a super star destroyer being torn apart by Imperial infighting, and the resolution is liberation - for the stormtroopers, for example - and the surrender of the remaining First Order fleet.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Head cannons: CEO! Virgin Kylo Ren x Fem Reader

A/N: RATED M, NSFW, fluffy

»»————-　♡　————-««

CEO! Kylo Ren never slept with his assistant before until you came along. You were a pretty thing, he had to admit that’s how he found himself underneath you.

CEO! Kylo Ren becomes flustered the way you walk inside his office to give him his coffee, lunch or even paperwork. He even becomes bashful when you start to compliment him when you read over his reports.

CEO! Kylo Ren had told you he was a virgin one night after he took the whole department out for dinner and drinks. You didn’t believe him, of course. It had to be the large amount of scotch on the rocks he had during dinner that had him talking nonsense about him being a virgin.

CEO! Kylo Ren is handsome and tall. You found yourself staring at him. He towered over you whenever he stood next to you. He usually wore his collar shirts with the sleeves rolled up showing his arms. His thick dark curls were always combed over, your fingers were itching to touch it. His plump lips that’s begged to be kissed. You knew he had to be lying.

CEO! Kylo Ren tells you once more about it when you confesses to him about your doubts of him being a virgin. He confides in you that he was an awkward teenager, who became even more awkward when he became an adult. He was never good with the ladies and whenever he did have a crush they didn’t reciprocate back.

CEO! Kylo Ren turns red in the face when you offer to have sex with him when both of you were alone doing overtime in the office. “Serious?” He asks you. He smiles at the nod you gave him as you got closer to him.

CEO! Kylo Ren is whimpering as you suck his cock. He had thrown his head back the moment you gagged loudly on his cock. His large hands made their way to your hair, grabbing it. Tugging it softly when he felt your spit rolling down his balls to the leather computer chair he was sitting on.

CEO! Kylo Ren wants to make you feel good after he cums down your throat but you push him back on to his chair and hike your skirt up to your hips. His eyes widen and he welcomes you when you start to mount on him. He groans as you slide down on his cock, his hips start to thrust up catching you by surprise.

CEO! Kylo Ren says he’s sorry when you tell him to slow down but he can’t help it. You feel so good, clenching him so tight. You feel so wet and warm. He had wrapped his arm around your waist holding you still as his hips went wild.

CEO! Kylo Ren likes hearing your wet pussy as he makes you bounce up and down in his cock. Turning you into his own personal cock sleeve like the one he has at home. You don’t do much, you hold on his shoulders during the ride, you’re already fucked dumb.

CEO! Kylo Ren starts becoming more pussy drunk when you cum on his cock. He keeps thanking you for letting him fuck you, for letting him fuck your pussy. He doesn’t even realize he came inside of you when you start kissing him.

CEO! Kylo Ren becomes infatuated with you and your body. He craves it everyday. He has you bend over on his desk while he pounds from behind you. He has you lay out on the new couch he bought for his office just for you so you can lay on it while he eats you out. Meeting starts late because he has you on top of him riding and lunches that are an hour become two hours sometimes three because Kylo needs you before taking you out for lunch.

CEO! Kylo Ren has the office buzzing on why there are construction workers in his office one day. None of them knew except you that they were installing soundproof walls in his office.

CEO! Kylo Ren gets nervous when he asks you to stay the night at his place. When you say yes, he picks you up in a kiss. He’s anxious during the day and keeps looking at his watch for the clock to hit 6pm so he can take you home. You’re welcomed by the sight of him standing near his car in the parking lot with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

CEO! Kylo Ren isn’t a virgin anymore thanks to you.

[jinx-xxed]

Drunken Haze

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; My first post of smut wowee! Please excuse how obvious it is that smut is not my forté, thank you and goodnight

Part of Written in the Stars

Summary; You and Commander Kylo Ren have stopped at a planet for a diplomatic mission. You decide to take a little break when night hits and stop by a bar for a drink.

Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, Kylo acting like a man starved, drunk sex, reader kind of hates him still, biting, lots of taunting, fingering, gloves are on, piv sex, pathetic and then dominant and then pathetic again Kylo, he’s yearning a lil too much, kind of fwb??

Wc; 4.1k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

The bar is empty, chairs and stools abandoned, except for two.

Near the back they sit, so far apart and yet unbearably close at the same time. A commander and a general, intimidating enough on their own but downright terrifying when together. They say nothing, they barely make any noise even as their glasses of alcohol hit the table after a swig. It all makes the bartender incredibly uneasy.

He avoids looking at them too much, stuck to his spot behind the counter. He’s been cleaning glasses that don’t need to be cleaned for the past hour, waiting for something to change. The bar closed almost an hour and a half ago, but the two at the back didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. His boss told him he better not screw this up before she left, because gods only know what’ll happen if he pisses off the biggest big shots in the First Order.

They landed here two days ago, looking to make negotiations with the lords of the planet. And now here are the two in charge, sitting in the bar in complete silence.

The bartenders only job is to be quiet and refill their drinks when they request, which they do by looking at him or waving a hand. It feels like his blood has turned to solid ice at this point.

The general, you, hold a small glass of rum between your middle finger and thumb, idly swishing around what little remains. You lean over the table, eyes glinting in the dim lighting, resting a forearm against its surface.

Then, a few seats away from you, is the commander, Kylo Ren himself. He has a glass of whiskey in a leather clad hand, not drinking it much anymore. Both of your cloaks just skim the floor, your uniforms so similar. The commander is without his helmet for once, seeming to not really care who sees him this late at night. With his hard set features, he‘s still just as threatening.

You at last sigh, putting down your glass and standing, bracing your hands on the wooden face of the table. Kylo looks to you as you move, finally snapped out of whatever drunken haze he was dousing himself in before.

You walk by him, but not before skirting a hand along his shoulder. A taunt, an invitation, a plethora of different insinuations, each one enticing. You head past the bar counter, the bartender strictly keeping his head down. You go into the hall to the left, which houses a staircase that leads to the upper floor that holds the inn that’s a part of the bar.

It seems like you’re only alone for a second before he’s there, following you like a shadow. You turn to face him, bodies no more than a foot apart, and that’s how you stay for a good few seconds. Your eyes search his, a slight flush of the cheeks shared between the both of you.

Then he’s on you, and you’re taking him with open arms.

You’re pressed against the wall in no time, mouths interlocked, tongues pressing against each others. Your arms sling around his shoulders, one hand going into his hair. Your brows are furrowed, eyes closed as you taste his whiskey mix with your rum. His hands grasp at your upper thighs, less than an inch from your ass.

With alcohol in your systems, neither of you really care about the fact someone could walk down the hall, or walk down the stairs, and easily find you sloppily robbing the other of breath.

He hoists you up, taking your feet off the ground and securing your legs around his hips, allowing himself to press harder against you. He feels your nails dig into his scalp, threatening to tug. Being with you, especially like this, ignites something; it makes him feel things he normally isn’t allowed to, to feel things he can’t get a grasp on. It sets his body on fire, it makes him hungry, it makes him full of nothing but desire. It’s confusing, exciting, and infuriating, his brain not able to wrap around it at all, not able to wrap around you. The only clear thing he’s ever able to understand is that he wants you, craves you, and it makes him more akin to an animal than a man.

That much is clear by the guttural noises building in the back of his throat as one of your warm hands takes his cheek, thumb rubbing along his jagged scar. He feels tension building, and he needs more. There’s only so much you can get out of kissing someone against a wall.

He takes your full weight into his arms with ease, hurrying up the stairs and kicking open a door to an empty room. He sets you down briefly only to shut the door and lock it, your hands still on him the whole time. He can barely keep himself together during the two seconds it takes to secure your privacy, his body burning to have you close again.

He pins you once more, hand coming up to your jaw to move your head to the side. His lips attack your neck, or what he can of it, your stupid uniform covering most of it. He uses his other hand to try tugging some of it down.

“Fuck, you’re desperate.” You say in a breath, enjoying seeing the way he paws at you. There’s a growl from him as his teeth drag along the soft skin of your neck, so different from the roughness of your hands. You work around him to unclip your cloak, letting it fall to the floor. The heat shared between you is almost unbearable.

“Should we be doing this right now?” You ask, though it’s not like you really had any intention of making him stop.

“Yes, we should,” he answers roughly. There’s no way in hell he could hold himself back a moment longer down in that bar, with the way you kept looking at him, your nails tapping tortuously against the table. He’d much prefer them digging into his back.

What you really should do is return to the Finalizer, return to your jobs. It’s already past the expected curfew and yet here you are in a less than high-grade inn, in a small room not fit for your stature, doing things that probably break about fifteen different code rules. The first one being not feeling up your superior.

You’ve done this before, taken it farther before, it’s all so familiar. It’s familiar, the way you both need to have alcohol coursing through your systems to be able to bear the thought of attraction. Though this time feels a little different; you’ve never had him act like a starving man before. You’re not opposed to it.

There’s a tug on the bottom of your vest. “Off.” He orders. So you help undo the velcro holding it together, slipping it off your shoulders along with the brace around your middle. Your belt thunks to the floor too, weighed down by your lightsaber.

You hum. “It’s not very fair if I’m the only one stripping here.” You run your fingers loosely across his textured tunic.

Kylo huffs through his nose, taking only a step back to toss aside his cowl, slipping the tunic off and throwing it carelessly. His gloved hands grasp the curve of your waist, thumbs digging into the skin. You’re both down to your innermost layers; your undershirts and pants and gloves, shoes already discarded by the door.

The heat in his body is suffocating, the tension within his pants making his breath ragged. He needs you, he needs you so bad it fucking hurts.

He takes you roughly by the arm, pulling you over to the bed and pushing you down onto it. He straddles your hips, leaning over you, kisses sloppy and wet. He feels a sudden yank on his hair that makes him hiss, his head pulling back, neck fully exposed. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve never been this damn eager.” You demand, propping yourself up on an elbow. Maybe it’s the whiskey. You eye his neck, so perfectly open to you, mouth so close that your breath fans over the skin. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows like a predator.

He’s panting, he can’t find a way to respond. Your eyes meet as you go for him at last, lightly taking the skin of his neck in your teeth before biting down hard. You feel him tense, fingers indenting into your sides. You continue the action in multiple different spots until he’s groaning, begging for something more. He loves his own pain.

“Pathetic thing,” you spit.

“You’re no different.” He retorts, reaching to grab your hips, digging his fingers in sharply. The sensation sends shivers running down your body immediately as he continues to rub against your skin, making you release your hold on him entirely. A noise comes from you, similar to a pitiful mewl, that makes you put the back of your hand to your mouth. Still with one hand on your hip, he uses the other to remove it. The smirk threatening his lips is downright devilish. “Don’t silence yourself, now.”

“Bastard.” You snap, eyelashes fluttering from the feeling.

“And nothing less.” He mutters, at last removing his hand from your hip to run it up your forehead and into your hair, taking a fistful. Now it was his turn to pull you back, leaving his own marks. Tit for tat, you could say.

A shift of your leg causes friction against his crotch that makes him jolt forward, black waves falling against his face. “Fuck,” he grinds out.

“Can’t take it anymore, can you?” You whisper, almost threateningly. You never know how you find yourself in these positions, stuck under the man you claim to hate more than anything and yet can’t seem to push away. He’s like a drug of sorts, taking pleasure in him and then hating him for the way he makes you feel afterwards. And for the way that you can’t stop.

You palm him through his pants, causing him to nearly collapse on top of you, his hands slamming down on either side of your head. His eyes are wide, feral almost, teeth shining in the lighting. Now it’s your turn to smirk. There’s a wet, guttural sound in his throat and it sounds like a whine, or as close as you’ll get to a whine when it comes to the great commander.

He’s had enough, you can see it, you can see how close he is to snapping completely. You can feel it too. He rips your hands away from him, pinning them to the bed with his Force, using his own hands to lift and pull at your shirt so your skin is exposed. The leather of his gloves tingles against your abdomen as his fingers drag up it. Your shirt is finally discarded of, leaving you half bare before him.

He sits back on the balls of his feet to admire your body, toned and scarred and a testament to everything you’ve been through. He does this every time, unable to deny the strength he sees before him. He always looks at your scars too, recognizing old ones and studying new ones, which you always end up having plenty of. You give him a look and he knows what that means, then slipping off his own shirt. It does nothing to cool his body temperature.

Your eyes go to the scar that goes from the top of his brow all the way to below his collar bone, freshly healed and creating something like a ravine through his skin. His body is still as finely toned as you remember, muscles tense and with a slight blush running along his arms. Before you fully realize what’s happening, your pants are tugged off and on the floor, a small yelp leaving your lips.

Your legs are stuck together, knees up that he rests his gloved hands against. “It’s always funny how you try to act modest,” he says thoughtfully, prying you open. “Have you not had enough experience yet?” You bare your teeth at him, words lost.

It’s like the tone of his attitude has changed, now that he’s so close to what he wants. More drawn back, less openly needy. More ready to take control, and you’re more ready to pass it over. His thumbs run along your inner thigh, so, so close, before pressing his fingers against your embarrassingly wet underwear.

“Soaked,” he mutters curiously. You whine sharply at the sparks you feel in your lower abdomen at his touch; music to his ears.

He moves the underwear aside, too impatient to fully take it off. You suck in a breath, and the Force he had on your wrists disappears, your hands immediately going to scrape your nails along his strong forearms as his index and middle finger settle inside your warmth. The leather is still a sensation you need to get used to, with him only keeping them on every now and then. Its rough texture slides against your walls, jolting your senses. He begins to pump them in and out, going faster with time, thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles.

“Ah- shit-“ you rasp. His eyes are trained on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. Your eyes are shut tight, brows furrowed, mouth open with the pants that tumble from it. You always sound so pretty, so hopelessly pathetic under him. It’s the only time he ever gets to hear you in such a way, so he savors it while he can.

Your nails dig in harder, near the point of drawing blood as a third finger slides in to join the others. His glove is soaked in your slick, black material gleaming. “That’s it. You take it so easily.” He praises, pace switching between slow and fast, keeping you on an up and down.

You feel pressure build in your lower stomach, breath ragged, chest heaving. You near your breaking point faster thanks to the alcohol running rampant in your body, everything feeling so much more sensitive. You’re close, the heat pressing in on you, flushing your skin. “Please-“

And then he stops altogether, and you nearly lunge at him in frustration, a groan falling from you as your high dies down quick. He pulls his fingers out, making you feel a horrible emptiness that has you whining for more.

“Patience. The only way you’ll cum is on my cock.” He says, with no room to argue. His tongue runs along his fingers, taking in what you left behind. He’s always found pleasure in how you taste, even though it embarrasses you to no end. To him, that’s just a bonus.

After he’s satisfied, he takes his gloves off between his teeth, tossing them to the floor with all the rest of your clothes. With complete disregard, he rips your underwear off too.

At last he finally frees himself, groaning in relief. His length is just as intimidating as you thought it was during your first time doing this, his hand lazily pumping it a few times. Then he lines up with your entrance and suddenly his cock is buried as deep as it can go inside of you and the breath is knocked from your lungs.

He gives you only a second to collect yourself before he moves, barely able to contain himself for even that. You feel too fucking good, your cunt clenching around him making him feral. It’s like you were molded to fit him, to squeeze him just right, to make him insane in too many ways to count.

“Fucking- you feel so fucking good-“ he gasps, thoughts incoherent. He’s in a haze created by alcohol and swirled with pleasure and it takes control of him completely. Moans fall from your pretty lips, drool pooling within your mouth.

He leans down onto his elbows so he can kiss your burning skin. He runs his soft lips along your scars, the things standing out starkly against the dark blush on your body. He leaves his marks on your chest, biting and drawing bruises with his mouth. He can never resist marking you, despite knowing damn well that no one else stands a chance. No one else would be able to handle you.

He looks up to your face again, seeing you turned away, eyes still shut as he pounds into you, body trembling. He takes your chin again, forcing you towards him. “Look at me,” he demands, “you know I like seeing those pretty eyes.”

After a harsh squeeze to your jaw, you finally open your eyes, meeting his own. Yours are watery, glazed over from pleasure, pupils blown. It’s incredible how you’re so different from your usual self—tough, angry, ready to fight anyone at a moments notice. That version of you seems miles away now, taken over by a pathetic mirror image you’d much rather kill off. But when you’re with him, doing such a thing is impossible. You practically turn to putty.

He curses, shifting to grip your waist, holding you tight against him so you meet his thrusts, allowing himself deeper. He feels the familiar sensation of your sharp nails digging into his bare back, and he relishes in the sting. He wouldn’t doubt you drawing blood, you love to see the red spill.

“Fuck- good, so good for me,” he says, barely able to get out a full sentence. He’s missed this too much, with you always being out on god damn missions and you both never getting a moment alone. It’s been months since your last interaction, far too long. Maybe that was why his movements were so erratic, so desperate and eager and fuck, so intoxicating.

You pull him in, needing more of his skin against yours. “Kylo- don’t stop- fucking hell-“

The way you say his name does something to him, hearing it so broken on your tongue. He slams into you harder, faster, if that’s even possible, determined to fuck you completely senseless so that all you know is his name.

“Fuck, say it again,” he orders, mind hazy. “Remember who makes you feel this fucking good.”

You do, repeating his name again and again. It gets better each time and he can barely control himself. He kisses you roughly, taking in every part of you. Your hand finds his hair again, fingers curling around dark strands, pushing him in to deepen the kiss.

One of his hands leave your waist, thumb finding your clit and drawing circles. The sudden additional stimulation nearly makes you bite his tongue between your teeth, moaning into his mouth instead. The pressure is building again, he can feel it with the way your walls tighten around him so fucking nicely, your muscles tensing under his touch.

You break the kiss with a gasp, sweat glistening on your skin. “I’m going- Kylo-“

“Cum for me,” he breathes, intently watching your face. He quickly moves to clamp a hand over your mouth as you scream, cumming around his cock, the sensation making him twitch. He’s nearly there. He pounds you through your orgasm, tears swelling in your eyes that threaten to spill over.

He crashes a few moments after, a desperate groan coming from deep within him as his cum spills inside of you. There’s a few extra pumps as he’s milked for all he’s worth before he finally stills, forehead pressed against your shoulder. Both of you are panting uncontrollably, chests heaving, bodies shaking with aftershocks.

He has to wait before he pulls out, reluctant to leave your warmth. But he manages eventually, muscles aching. You’re in a stunned sort of state, completely fucked out and trying to catch your breath. He pulls his pants back up before he flops down beside you, the two of you barely fitting on the inn bed together. He flicks the lights off as he goes, settling you into the darkness of a quiet night.

He huffs, feeling his breath finally coming back to him. He turns over to pull you in against him, this being the only time you’d let such a thing happen. He presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, tasting the saltiness of your sweat, pulling up the covers and curling around you to keep you warm. The tufts of your hair tickle beneath his chin and he buries his face into them, taking in your scent that’s become so familiar to him throughout his life.

You’re fast asleep already, exhausted and feeling safe enough to pass the hell out. Your breath passes quietly between parted lips; you look so peaceful like this. The muscles in your face are relaxed for once, your mind quiet.

He lays there, thinking about tomorrow, thinking about returning to the ship. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too obvious you’d spent the night together, in more ways than one. He didn’t need to get chewed out for that right now. He knows people have suspicions already, especially your personal fleet, but that didn’t mean you two had to go yelling it to the entire ship.

He sighs, shifting his position one last time to get comfortable. He lets his tiredness take over, thinking about how they’d have to pay the inn before they left in the morning.

» ☆ «

You wake with a start, body jolting and eyes slowly taking in the space around you. Then you shoot up suddenly on your elbows, brief panic flashing through your body. You’re in a room you’re unfamiliar with, clothes scattered across the floor. You are familiar with the ache in your muscles though, the smell of sweat and sex clinging to your skin.

With a sigh, you glance behind you at the man laying next to you, looking idly up at the ceiling with one arm cushioning his head. His eyes flit to yours for a brief moment before returning to the ceiling. Who knows how long he’s been awake for. You find him like that every time, always up and alert far before you are.

You mutter something under your breath, cursing yourself. You let it happen again. You let him in, let him take over, let him do with you as he pleased. And he’d done exactly that, based on all the marks littered along your body. He’s lucky they can be easily covered by your uniform, otherwise you think you may have sliced him in half.

You look out the window to your left, seeing it’s early morning, the sun having not even risen yet. But you can see the ball of fire starting to crest the horizon, chasing away the dark of night with the bright colors of morning.

You pull the covers back and force yourself out of bed despite the ache. “Well,” you say, beginning to collect your clothes, “I guess you should go back to the Finalizer first. I’ll follow after, that way it’s less suspicious.”

There’s a moment of pause before Kylo mumbles his agreement. Right. Back to business. That’s how this always goes, with you shutting him out immediately after you’ve finished, returning to the safety of the cold professional that you are. Even though he knows he should push you away like you do to him, he can’t help but want to just pull you in. To hold you there against him until you admit to yourself and to him what’s going on here.

But you won’t do that, and neither will he.

He follows your lead, slipping his clothes back on. Before he puts his shirt over his head, you get a glimpse of the claw marks along the bare muscles of his back. There’s dried blood on some of them, the others being angry red marks. Maybe you’d feel bad for it if he hadn’t asked you to purposefully do such a thing during one of the other times you’d come together. He takes pleasure in it and it gives you release, it’s a win-win.

You’re both fully dressed again in no time, slipping on cloaks and securing belts. He goes along with your plan, heading towards the door. He pauses, now gloved hand reaching for the handle. He looks back at you once, as if expecting you to change your mind, but you don’t, only raising a brow at him as you straighten the cuffs of your shirt. His sigh is barely audible as he opens the door, leaving in a flutter of dark robes.

Back to business.

[luke-shywalker]

I was skimming this interview Adam Driver did where he was saying 1) he’s not returning to Star Wars (good, let Ben Solo rest in peace lol) and 2) the original plan for Kylo’s character was to have him be the opposite of Vader, starting out unsure in the dark side but becoming more evil through the trilogy.

Y’all know I was fighting for my boy to be redeemed because redemption is one of the central themes of Star Wars. And a lot of the anti-Kyle Ron fans’ reasoning for not wanting him to be redeemed was that “he didn’t deserve it” (to which I was like, yes, correct, redemption is receiving mercy we do not deserve and could never earn.)

But I find the idea of Kylo Ren becoming more and more dark side and never returning to the light pretty interesting, because while redemption and forgiveness is a core part of my worldview, life in the broken world doesn’t always go that way. Sometimes parents watch their child reject the light and embrace the darkness, never to return, despite all their prayers and attempts at intervention.

We know TROS was missing a villain and that’s why somehow, Palpatine returned. It would have been interesting if Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was the big bad in the final movie. (Redeemed Kylo in TROS didn’t really feel real to me btw…I felt like I was watching Adam Driver act out “male lead” but not really know who his character was or who he was playing anymore lol)

I don’t have a lot more thought out to say, but I was just imagining dark side Kylo in his final form getting defeated in the last movie and everyone in the Resistance cheering like at the end of ROTJ, except for Leia. And Leia wondering why her father, the one she hates and can never forgive, was the one to turn back to the light and lives on in the Force, but her son, who she has loved since before he was born and cannot help but forgive, would not turn back and is gone forever.

[darklinaforever]

No, the Reylo community is not full of racists. Not that I know of at least.

More precisely :

And most people who say thank you to Reylo who would have opened the voice for Oshamir is literally because it is obvious that Oshamir is inspired by Reylo. Denying it does no good at this point.

Yes enemies to lovers is a common trope but to say that Reylo has nothing to do with Oshamir is once again lying at this point. The Kylo Ren / Ben Solo theme is literally used for Qimir. Either it's a nod to the Knight of Ren or simply to the character of Ben. The Oshamir and Reylo meeting is also similar, but let's move on.

Oshamir and Reylo are two different ships, yes. But Oshamir is clearly inspired by Reylo. I don't see why it's so hard for some people to accept.

Not to mention we're complaining that why wasn't Reylo as successful ? I still remember that the Reylos were harassed massively on the networks at the time, I don't see why it's weird to want our ship to have been better accepted by people, believe me, it's logical thinking.

Between the accusations of apologia for rape, abuse, incest, pro-Nazi, pedophilia, etc., we have seen all the colors.

Literally, I don't understand the people who complain that Oshamir brought Reylo back into the community of this new ship !

Not only do they have the same enemy-to-lover basis but Oshamir is clearly a callback to Reylo. Just as without Bastila and Revan Reylo would not exist, it is surely the same for Oshamir who without Reylo perhaps would not exist as he is today.

It's logical that Oshamir attract the Reylo stans !

And the Oshamir shippers who are in the mode that it's not good to compare a ship with two people of color to two white people, kills me. We compare the characters. Not their color. Who cares if two are people of color and the other are white people ?! At this point, I haven't seen any of Oshamir's Reylo stans talking about skin colors. Except precisely to make fun of those who said at the time that Reylo was racist, and that the ultimate proof of that was according to them that if Reylo were played by people of color, they would not like the ship... Oshamir proves the opposite today.

All this tires me out.

[fridayincarnate]

writing patterns tag game ✨

Rules: post the last sentence from your 10 most recently posted fics (less if you don't have 10 is also fine).

Thanks for tagging me @manicpixiedreamedwins!

Perfect lol, I have exactly 10 fics on AO3. They're all Kylux except the first one. (Literally dying to talk about Hux and Cardinal if anyone wants to send me an ask lol)

General disclaimer to mind the tags.

By Any Other Name (Armitage Hux/Cardinal, E)

“I believe there are.”

Not On The Supreme Leader's Calendar (T)

The look on Ren’s face is almost as delicious as their second kiss.

Lift Up the Receiver, I'll Make You a Believer (E)

The last thing that Kylo sees before his awareness leaves the General’s quarters is the curve of his lips, pink and satisfied.

Break the Lock if It Don't Fit (T)

He is, however, very much looking forward to his next meeting with Hux.

It's the Thought That Counts (T)

Inside, he will find tangible proof that it was not.

Into Retrograde (E)

"Our ship."

The Thaw Will Come When It Is Good And Ready (E)

And for once, Hux finds himself agreeing with Kylo Ren.

Diplomatic Indulgence (E)

He has an important meeting tomorrow.

Strange Orbits* (M) *On indefinite hiatus, so this isn't reeaaally the "last" line.

The stars streak into lines, and hyperspace takes them.

A Concession Bound in Salt (T)

Side by side, they watch the stars stretch into bright strings of light and draw them forward into hyperspace.

My takeaways: 1) man, I really like that hyperspace imagery; 2) Kylo and Hux do not have dates, they have meetings.

Tagging @dragonflies-draw-flame & @jaynesilver & @nylon-rabbit & @cosleia & @daisychainz-not-daisy & anyone else who wants to do it!

[antianakin]

Yo. What are your thoughts on people who unironically claim that - prior to his talk with Yoda - Luke was right about the Jedi Order in TLJ?

There's definitely other people who can probably discuss this more eloquently than I can, but basically the argument I've seen that works the best for me is that the whole point of Luke's journey in TLJ is that he's WRONG. Luke loses himself to his own fear and grief, and that turns him into a bitter, resentful person. And what we often see when people hit that sort of rock bottom point is that they refuse to be truly mindful and self-reflective and instead turn their fear into anger and then lash out at someone else just to have someone to blame that isn't themselves. And, within the context of Star Wars, the Jedi so often end up that scapegoat. There's even a pattern I've pointed out in other posts of Jedi choosing to turn on their own when they lose themselves to darkness (Krell, Barriss, Malicos, even Bode to some degree, and obviously Anakin).

But just because the Jedi often end up scapegoats for other people's failures doesn't actually mean these people are RIGHT to blame the Jedi for the galaxy's woes.

It also would quite honestly just make zero sense if Luke was right because he talks about wanting the Jedi to all die out, he wants there to be NO MORE Jedi at all, and then the end of the film is that Rey goes on to continue being a Jedi and Luke makes the big declaration that he won't be the last Jedi as a triumph over Kylo and the First Order. None of that seems to indicate that Rey continuing to become a Jedi is a BAD THING the way Luke would have thought earlier in the movie. So if Rey becoming a Jedi is a good thing, then it automatically means Luke thinking all the Jedi should die with him was WRONG. This is basic media literacy.

Luke is unkind and cruel and insensitive throughout the entirety of his interactions with Rey. And he is very DELIBERATELY written this way, you're supposed to be sort-of taken aback and cringing away from this version of Luke. This version of Luke is broken and warped from the person we last knew him to be. This is not a kindly master of any kind, so why would we listen to anything he has to say while in this mindset?

One of the other things done in TLJ to really slam home that Luke's perspective on things isn't always trustworthy is the comparison between the two flashbacks to Kylo's turn. Luke and Kylo both have very different versions of that night and so it's implied that we cannot necessarily just take Luke at his word when he says things. Luke is not an inherently trustworthy person anymore. So when he says shit like "The Jedi should die with me" it's said within the context we are being given that Luke is now untrustworthy and consumed with bitterness, so EVERYTHING HE SAYS has to be taken with a bucket of salt.

Luke isn't right about the Jedi, he can't be in order for any part of his story to make any sense and for the ending of the film to be in any way satisfying.

What I WILL say though is that this entire storyline is pure bullshit anyway and executed in the worst way possible. It's written in such a way that it's not hard to see WHY people would jump to the interpretation that Luke was right about the Jedi. I hate that they have Luke saying these things to begin with, I hate that his entire relationship with Rey consists of Luke being an asshole and refusing to teach her anything except how awful the Jedi were when he barely even ever KNEW the Jedi. This feels like a character assassination of Luke for no good reason. Making Luke into a broken hero completely sidelined Rey in her own story and made that entire plot about LUKE'S growth instead of Rey's. So not only is it really jarring and uncomfortable to see Luke as a bitter old man instead of a wise master, it's an absolutely shit writing decision that sidelines the first main female character of a Star Wars movie in order to focus on a man. Making Luke a kind, wise master would have forced the story to focus on REY and REY'S fears and doubts and REY'S growth and development into being a Jedi because Luke has ALREADY HAS HIS FUCKING STORY TOLD AND DOESN'T NEED TO GO THROUGH IT A SECOND TIME.

There's just so much that is badly done about this storyline, so I can't really blame people for reading it as "Luke was right about the Jedi being bad and it's good that Rey is going to be a Jedi only because she's going to be a different KIND of Jedi that is better." It's so so awful and I appreciate that TROS tried to fix it by making ghost!Luke a kindly master who retracts some of his statements about the Jedi when he sees Rey again, but the damage was already done and it was too late. That being said, I do think that despite how badly it's written, the intent is that Luke is WRONG and he is very much an unreliable narrator in TLJ and people don't really pick up on that in their interpretations.

[inklore]

piteous toxin

premise: hate and humility ran your relationship with kylo, as did the heavy hand he loved having you wrap around his throat.

pairing: kylo ren x (f)reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: eighteen+ content, choking, enemies with benefits, unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, sub!kylo x dom!reader, biting, humiliation.

etc: anyone who dislikes sub!kylo you will be hearing from my lawyer because with those mommy and daddy issues? come on let’s not kid ourselves here lmaooo. this is my first time really writing for sw so there’s the bare minimum terminology in it ok don’t attack me.

kinktober 06 | kinktober masterlist

“More,” he grunts into the air. Quilting the room in even more lewd noises as his lungs plant a gasp at the back of his throat, as you give him what he asked. As your hips continue that low rising bounce on his cock, and your fingers tighten around his throat.

“Like that?” You already know the answer, already know what he wants—what he needs—but you love how desperate he looks when his dark eyes look to yours. A satisfaction turning the corner of your mouth into something sly, as you bend down and hover your lips above his, “you’re so pathetic.”

You know if he wasn’t inside of you right now, if you weren’t riding his cock with vigor; the roles would be reversed, the mood change to one of cruelty and hatred. The fist around his throat becoming his around yours in anger, the despise in his eyes just as enticingly cutthroat as the look in them now.

Except there’d only hold malic, that hatred that would want to slam you against the wall and wring your neck until you took your last breath—use his saber on you to finally shut you up.

To rid himself of the humility of being bested by you, finally freeing himself from dealing with you.

The decade long rivalry and hatred of being on different sides, of wanting to do nothing more than conquer the other; instead of the constant fucking the two of you seem to always find yourselves doing.

That going on as long as the decade old rivalry, for as long as the two of you have hated each other—the intensity of that hatred turning into something with teeth that craved something as rough as lust fueled rage that left the two of you sweaty, bruised, and sometimes bloody.

You giving Kylo that humility he loved to hate so much, and him giving you the power of control.

Control over him. Over your own pleasure, sinful desires and thoughts; power.

You both knew when it came to real control, real power, Kylo ranked higher than you. His family name alone is enough to bring someone as less fortunate as you to your knees.

That’s why it felt so good—knowing like this, with Kylo stripped of everything and below you, you brought him to his knees. He let you fuck him like he was nothing, like you held this power over him, like a force.

There was some sickly connection keeping the two of you tied together, same insides of a rotting fruit everyone looked past; dangerous, poisonous, deadly.

And with your fist around Kylo’s throat right now you both knew all you needed to do was push down, to put all your strength in squeezing enough to catch him off guard and you could slam the knife in your boot through his chest cavity.

End an oncoming war before it even begins.

But there’s a festering wound of dread and betrayal that won’t let you; or was it that the two of you were so similar that you’d feel a scab missing from your body? A scab you keep picking at. You’d rather reopen it and heal it with licks and temporary bandages that you’re all too eager for him to tear off.

If anyone was to ever ask you’d forever claim Kylo Ren to be the worst tyrant you’d ever met, and couldn’t wait to put him down; out of his misery.

And right now, that thought—putting him out of his misery—makes you smirk for a whole other reason.

Every time you bounce down on his cock you dig your nails into the side of his neck, like a string pulling his mouth open, eyes glistening with a smog of submissiveness. The hand at your ass leaving indents in your skin with how he grips you back, the only roughness he’s feeding back to you.

His knuckles going a colorless red as his other hand grips your wrist, an indication to keep going, a beg for more, harder, faster, whatever he needs, whatever you want.

He’ll take it all, and wants it all.

“You’re trying so hard not to come right now aren’t you?” You chuckle around a moan, let your thumb move an inch up to the bottom of his jaw to pull his chin lower so you can put the pad of it against his lips. Your lips still hover above his, your eyes downcast and holding contact with his. “Does my pussy feel so good that you can’t wait any longer?” He doesn’t answer, only puffs of choked air wafting across your lips. “Tell me how good I feel, Kylo. Scream it. Let your little army know how pathetically desperate their leader is, maybe they’ll come watch. See how weak you get with my hand around your throat.”

“Fuck you,” he grunts, scowls. Tries to put on that tough face. That face that only means he wants more. Wants your words to cut him until it’s licking at that poison inside of him. Until you’re both drunk on it.

You smile, “I see how it’s going to be tonight.” You push your thumb into his mouth, nail digging into his tongue. Your hips stopping, his cock feeling even heavier inside of you now that you’re no longer moving. Kylo wraps his lips around your thumb without you having to ask, looking for a praise that you’re not going to give him. A praise he doesn’t deserve—a kindness neither of you deserve.

Instead you press harder against his throat until he’s gasping, until you have to tighten your legs around his hips to stop him from bucking up into you. A moan slipping from your mouth when he returns the pain with sinking his teeth against the skin of your thumb. Your cunt clenching around him, begging you to move, to return the bite.

“Tell me how good I feel and I’ll let you come, promise. Or I’ll choke you until your last breath, and I’ll swallow it down. Be the last thing you see, feel. I’ll be the hero of the galaxy.” Your breath his heavy, hips doing the slowest roll, getting off to your own words. To the throb of his cock against your walls. “Say it. Say. it.”

Your grip loosens on his neck, enough for him to speak, to spew out a plea of heavy words. “You—” Kylo swallows, eyes rolling back just as your hips rise and fall along his length. “You feel so good, fuck I hate–you–ahh.”

Your hand aches from how long you’ve been choking him, so once you’ve moved it, as he’s moaning against your lips as he comes, there’s a satisfying relief in your fingers; your bloodstream.

“Pathetic.” The smirk that spreads across your lips matching his own.

[strawberry-whorecake]

One Hell of a Star | C.B.

pairing: Charlie Barber x fem!reader

summary: Being an aspiring actress, fresh off the press of Julliard, Charlie Barber’s theater company was the first place you put your bets on into making it. However, your audition doesn’t go quite how you’re used to, not that you’re complaining.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: swearing, power dynamic, abuse of power, PinV sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, slight dubcon

A/N: i’ve been writing so much Kylo, i decided to take a break with Charlie

Charlie Barber was the most sought after director in New York. His theater company, Exit Ghost, was exactly where you found yourself being a young, aspiring actress. It was the first place you figured you had a real shot, and after hearing nothing but good about Charlie Barber, it was worth that shot.

The halls glowed a soft orange as your shoes echoed against the linoleum with every step you took. It was mostly empty, only passing about two other people who paid you no mind as you walked along.

Reaching the main theater doors, you took a reaffirming breath as you pulled them open, the doors groaning in response. The theater was dimly lit and barren of anyone except for the back of a head containing raven colored soft waves.

Upon the doors' announcement of your arrival he smoothly turned his head and peered over his shoulder. "Can I help you?"

You'd recognized him in local papers and from website articles critiquing him with high praise for his work. "Oh, I'm so sorry to disturb you," your eyes flashed to the notebook he'd previously been scrawling his thoughts away in. "Uh, hi, are you Charlie Barber?" you asked, taking a few steps into the theater. He set his preoccupations aside and stood, swelling to his full 6'2 height.

"I am, and you are?" He looked you over as you two approached one another, taking in every aspect of your appearance while you introduced yourself. He stuck out his hand, giving yours a shake. His grip was firm, confident, and your handshake in comparison felt weak. Just as weak as you felt in the knees taking in the sight of the handsome man.

"I've heard all about your theater company–I saw your play on Broadway, Electra, it was excellent." He smiled at your praise and nodded his head in thanks. "I'm an actress–er, I'd like to be." You lowered your gaze, holding out your makeshift resume of previous productions you'd been a part of. He took it from your grip, letting his eyes graze over the paper.

His brows furrowed softly as he made mental note of everything you've done thus far. "You've never been a part of a proper play?" His tone was gentle despite his words being vaguely critical. "No sir, Mr. Barber, I've just graduated from Julliard, I've only done college productions..."

He raised a brow, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Julliard, huh? They're tough to get into." You nodded, but he spoke again before you could get a word out. "And please, call me Charlie, Mr. Barber was my father and makes me feel much older than I am." he chuckled softly, easing you into a gentle smile.

"Charlie," you familiarized yourself with the feeling of his name on your lips. "I know I'm asking a great deal from you, being rather inexperienced, but I'd like to ask you to take a chance on me."

He considered you, his eyes grazing over your appearance again. His gaze drifted across your features for a few moments before he allowed himself to peer at your frame only for a second–meeting your eyes again.

"So you're looking to audition then?" You nodded, "Truth is, I'd be honored to be a part of your company, even if I'm not on the stage, just being a part of Exit Ghost would be an incredible privilege."

"You've brought a piece to audition with?" You nodded once more, shuffling through the papers you'd held in your hand and outstretched another one toward him, which he immediately looked over. "Ah, Juliet's most famous monologue from Act 2, Scene 2." his words were butter-smooth, and you suddenly flushed.

"It's not too stereotypical, is it?" you chewed at the inside of your lip in nervousness, immediately second guessing your monologue decision–out of every monologue to ever exist you went with perhaps the most well known.

Charlie immediately took note of your sudden nerves and bid you a sweet, consoling smile. "No, no. It's good to play to your strengths, Romeo and Juliet is a classic for a reason, is it not? It's, uh, timeless."

You smiled, relief washing over you in waves. Charlie's gaze lingered to the stage for a moment before his lip curled slightly in the corner. "We can take this to my office, the stage's just been polished–it might be too slick to stand on currently." His hand lightly pressed against your lower back, guiding you back out the doors of the theater.

Following behind him, you made your way through the hall coming to a stop at a door that had a golden plaque hanging dead-center labeled, 'Director'. He pushed open the door, gesturing you in with his strong hand.

You took a few steps in, looking around at the office as Charlie followed in after you, shutting the door, making you look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry–would you prefer I left it open?" His brows raised softly as he spoke. "No, that's okay. It's your office."

He chuckled, his tone was mellifluous, a slight playfulness hung on his voice when he spoke. "It's your audition." You bid him a smile as he bypassed you, rearing around his desk and taking a seat in his chair, folding his hands together.

"Whenever you're ready to begin, you can." He gestured to you once more with a roll of his hand as he crossed his leg over his thigh and placed his hold onto his calf with one hand–effortlessly draping his other atop his opposite arm. You took a deep breath, and softly cleared your throat, mustering up your stage persona.

You lifted your head confidently, swelling your chest, and feigned your best love-stricken look–though in the presence of this admittedly handsome man, looking lovestruck was nowhere near impossible.

"O, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?" Your voice was desperate, calling out. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn, my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" Charlie's voice was gentle, taking you slightly off-guard as you hadn't expected him to take Romeo's lines, but you were oddly relieved he had–filling the silence between Juliet's monologue. He ran his hand through his hair, cocking his head slightly as he looked at you.

You wet your lips, keeping your gaze on him because you just couldn't help yourself, he was elegantly handsome.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art myself, though not a Montague–" you began the following part of Juliet's monologue, performing with great ease as it came naturally for you, while simultaneously watching Charlie's reactions to your audition.

As your chest would swell with confidence, he'd gently lean his head back, his eyes drifting over your frame, likely judging your stage presence. "What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot," you took a step forward, contemplatively. "Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man."

Another step forward, your fingers clutched the edge of his desk as you cried out desperately, "O, be some other name!"

Charlie's eyes studied you the entire time, your expressions were one he lingered on the longest. You pulled away from his desk, wrapping your arms around your own shoulders. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet."

Continuing the monologue you watched as Charlie stood, breezing around the side of his desk as he placed himself upon the corner, closing more distance between you two as he studied you. You took a great chance and pulled yourself closer to him, closing in more distance as your heart beat faster.

"-take all myself." the final line of the monologue ghosted off your lips, your voice nothing more than a hushed whisper. Your eyes interlocked with his. You didn't speak, awaiting your feedback and criticisms, and the silence that echoed throughout the room as you two both beheld each other.

His hand snaked up, fingertips gently caressing your cheek as he drew your face nearer to his. "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth. I will never be Romeo." he muttered, words gliding off his tongue with ease.

His thumb traced up to your lips, your face burned with heat as he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb, your chin resting in the crook between his index finger and thumb as he held your gaze firm to his.

His thumb edged deeper into your lips, splitting them apart. You allowed his action, intoxicated with his touch and his attention, but you gently nipped at the tip of his thumb with your teeth, watching as his lip curled into a soft smirk.

Your heart skipped a beat–this was surely never the way any previous audition had gone down, and you convinced yourself if any other director had done this to you, you would've kicked him where it hurt... but Charlie...

Charlie had you enamored. You craved nothing more than his recognition, his touch. You were putty in his hands, and little did you know he planned to shape you into the budding star he saw you as.

"Quite the little Juliet you are." his words came out as a breath as he gently pulled your face closer to his. His nose touched your skin first, dug delicately into the plush of your cheeks before his lips made contact with your jaw–his thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to keep your face close to his.

"Tell me..." he whispered against your flesh, "How good do you think Romeo made Juliet feel?" You couldn't stop your breath from hitching in your throat as he spoke. Your hand inadvertently grabbed hold of his leg as your thighs squeezed together.

He chuckled breathily as he watched your desperate attempt for friction, but he was in the lead, diving his knee between your legs and drove them apart. He took the opportunity to let his free hand snake around your waist, resting against the small of your back as he pulled you closer to him.

The smell of Charlie's cologne filled your senses, it was robust and masculine with undertones of leathers and wood, while being incredibly elegant and lavish. The scent alone made desire burn through your core.

His hand teased lower, cupping your ass and shoving you flush against him. "Charlie-!" you squeaked out in surprise. His fingers squeezed your chin, making you look up into his eyes through your lashes.

"How badly do you want to be an actress?" he purred, drawing his thumb back to your bottom lip again as he gripped your chin against his palm.

"M-more than anything..." you squeaked again, using all your control to not whine. His face zeroed in on yours, his eyes narrowing and darkening slightly. "Prove it."

He shoved his thumb into your mouth and you closed your lips around it, drawing in your cheeks and sucking on his digit. His eyes locked in on the sight of your mouth around his thumb, watching the way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked–his own lips parting in awe. He pulled it free with an obscene pop before smearing your saliva across your bottom lip.

His hand trailed down your body, his eyes following the movements of his hand. "We need to take these off. I need to study you."

His hands clutched at the fabric of your shirt and despite your embarrassment you raised your arms, allowing him to pull your top over your head. You were taken aback as he folded your shirt in half and placed it with care on his knee. He wasted no time to begin fidgeting with the clasp of your jeans, working with his thick fingers to unbutton them.

The craving in your core forced your own fingers to assist him, kicking off your shoes before sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your jeans, dragging them down the plush of your hips, then your thighs, until you pulled them all the way off.

He took the pants from your hands, folding them with the same care and placed them on top of your shirt. He stood to his full height making you raise your head to keep your eyes on his. He placed your clothes in the chair that sat kitty-cornered to his desk, using his foot to sweep your shoes in that direction.

He swept around you, leaving your back vulnerable to him as you peered over your shoulder as he took you in. His brows furrowed softly, "No, not good enough. I need to really see you." Big warm hands grazed the small of your back again before tracing up and unclasping the hooks of your bra. He then grabbed onto your side, spinning you rather harshly to face him.

His eyes draped over your chest before meeting your eyes–locking in on your wide-eyed expression as he pulled your bra off your body, your nipples pebbling in the open air of his office. He draped it over his forearm as he indulged himself in looking at your breasts, his tongue darting along his bottom lip as he took in the sight of you.

"Almost." he hummed, looping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. His thick fingers pressing against your pelvis made your body burn with a mix of need and embarrassment.

This was definitely not how any other audition played out.

With an easy tug, he pulled the fabric down your hips, offering you his other arm to steady yourself as you stepped out of them. He placed the two articles in the chair with the rest of your clothing before returning his attention to you.

You bit your lip to silence the whimpers that leeched in your throat at the sight of him observing you fully bared for him, before he caught wind of your nerves and met your eyes again. "Stunning." he purred.

Your cheeks flooded with warmth the second his fingers reached out and trailed down your side, starting just below your ribs before stopping at your hip. He drew you closer to him, pressing you flush against him and you felt the tent in his pants from his half-hard cock prod against your lower belly.

"Let me spoil you like a real star." his words fell off his lips in a breathy grunt. His eyes searched yours for a moment and when you nervously nodded your head he dove his lips into yours.

The feeling of his plush pink lips against yours shot shockwaves through your nerve endings. It was hot–full of fervor–the way his lips worked. His chest fell as he exhaled against your lips, his thick fingers trailing around your waist, and he squeezed at the plush of your ass.

He kissed you heavily, pressing his hips firmly to your body as your hands rose up to his chest, gently dragging your fingernails down his shirt. You desperately wanted him to remove his clothing too–if anything, just to ease your nerves over being the only one so exposed, but you knew you were in no position to ask, forcing you to swallow down the thought.

The hand not fondling your ass rose between your breasts, circling itself around your throat before gently squeezing at the sides. You didn't have the time to stifle the breathy moan you pressed against his lips.

He smirked as he pulled away from you. He took in the sight of you once more before he grabbed hold of your waist and spun you around so your back was to him.

He trailed his thick fingers down your flesh, following the line starting at your shoulder blades and ending at the dimples in your waist. His hips rutted against yours forcefully, making you gasp and stick out your hands to his desk to balance yourself.

"You're perfect." he hummed, diving his hand around your waist as he reached between your thighs, his thick fingers sliding though your slit. Feeling how wet you were for him pulled a breathy chuckle from his throat.

"Oh you're quite the little star already, aren't you?" his words felt slightly jeering, making you whimper in protest. His fingers worked at your core, drawing meticulous circles around your clit. His hips rutted into yours again, pressing his hardness against your ass, and eliciting a moan from your throat.

He pulled his hand away from your folds and you bit down on your lip at the loss of contact, missing the feeling of his thick fingers on you until you heard the clack of his belt coming undone.

You peered over your shoulder to look at him, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and pulled them down just enough to free himself from his boxers.

You gaped at the sight of him–his cock was much bigger than you'd anticipated, the vision of it made your thighs tremble and your cunt clench around nothing.

He caught sight of you looking, seeing your knees wobble softly and he chuckled again, "Don't worry, you can take it." He stroked himself a few times, swirling his precum along his length. He grunted softly as his fist worked him for a moment, before he grabbed hold of your hips again.

His hand trailed up your back, gently shoving your body downward and urging you to arch your back. You swallowed down a whimper as his tip slid between your slit, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock.

He teased you a few times by thrusting through your folds, making you whimper out and clench around nothing again. Another mocking chuckle escaped his throat. "Okay, I'm done teasing."

His tip aligned with your entrance, and you bit down on your lip as he dug his fingers into the plump flesh of your hip, easing himself inside of you.

"Fuck–" he huffed, "You are tight."

His explicit words made you moan out as your cunt throbbed, pulling him deeper into you. He withdrew slightly, making you whimper. "C-Charlie... p-please..." you pleaded.

He hummed in response before slamming his hips into yours, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion that seared between your legs. He repeated the action, groaning as you whined again.

Once he bottomed out inside of you he gripped your hips, pulling you against his length as he thrust in and out of you.

"Sh-Shit-!" you panted.

He filled you up so well, his cock nestled itself perfectly in your pussy, taking up all the room you offered him–which compared to his size–wasn't much.

"Language." he hissed through his teeth, ramming his hips sharply into yours again, making you cry out at the force.

He found rhythm, methodically unsheathing from you before thrusting in again. "God–you feel so good." he praised, squeezing at your hips.

Your brows knit as he hit spots of you no guy ever had before, all thanks to the sheer size of him. His cockhead nestled itself against your cervix, prodding it insistently.

His hands wrapped around your waist, moving toward your lower tummy where he felt himself inside you. "Filling you up so good, aren't I?" he hummed.

"F-Fuck... Charlie..." you moaned, earning another hiss through his teeth as a response. "I need to fill that filthy mouth of yours."

He hastily shoved his middle and ring finger into your mouth, making you gag at the intrusion before humming against them. "There... isn't that better?"

You whined in reply, sucking on his digits as you rocked your hips in pace with his, your brows knitting again in pleasure.

The drag of his hips was agonizing, and every time he withdrew your cunt clamped down around him, not wanting him to leave you. He groaned every time you pulled him back in, driving his fingers deeper into your mouth again making you gag once more.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, quickly placing them on your waist, "Turn around, I need to see that pretty face." He simultaneously pulled out of you, making you whine as a brief emptiness settled over your insides. He spun you around so you now faced him, leaning against your arms for leverage, and he wasted no time to bury his cock deep inside you again.

He watched as your eyes nearly shut and your brows furrowed together, absolutely drunk on his dick. He leaned forward, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses on your breast, keeping one hand on your hip as the other kneaded at your opposite. He groaned against your flesh, his hot breath exhaling from his nose as it dug softly against you.

He pulled away from your chest, moving his lips up to your neck as he fucked into you. "You're absolutely gorgeous like this–" he panted against your skin. You could only moan in response. "You take me so, so well."

You were already teetering on the edge of ecstasy, which you hardly ever did off pure penetration, but he hit every fucking mark.

You looked up at him rather pathetically, the knot in your core tightening incredibly as you looked at him. His brows were furrowed in focus, his forehead had a soft sheen of sweat, and his lips parted as he breathed heavily.

His already dark eyes looked black from being blown with lust as they caught yours and his lips curled into another smirk, eliciting a whimper from your throat. "You want to cum, is that it?"

Your mind was fuzzy from your impending orgasm and the sheer sight of him. You whimpered as a response. "No–use your words."

"P-Please!" you cried out, cheeks burning in embarrassment at your haste. He chuckled breathily, "Good…good girl."

Catching you by surprise he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before diving into your lips again. His thick fingers snaked between your legs, pads finding your clit again. You moaned against his lips, making him swallow down your noises as he drew tight organized circles against your bundle of nerves.

Your thighs trembled at the added pleasure. "Fuck! Charlie!"

His grip on your waist spared, still using his other hand to tease your clit, his fingers dove into your mouth again. "What did I say about that mouth, hmm?" His digits pressed against your tongue, gently pulling your mouth open as you panted around them.

Your walls clenched, the knot in your core unbearably tight. "C-Charlie-" you attempted to speak around his fingers but it came out all muddled. His eyes met yours beneath his heavy brow. "You gonna cum, gorgeous?"

You nodded, feeling his thrusts and fingers around your clit pick up pace–moving frantically–the fingers in your mouth prodding against your tongue as you moved your head. "Cum on my cock, pretty girl." he purred, his eyes hungrily staring into yours.

As if he'd uttered the magic words, the knot in your core unraveled and your arms that held you up shook as your vision blurred, waves of white flooding your brain as your crescendo hit.

You cried out, trembling in intensity as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, steadying you with his grip again. Your cunt throbbed against him, as he continued pace, chasing his own orgasm. You listened as his breath hitched in his throat, grunting between breaths and he quickly withdrew his fingers and pulled out of you, frantically taking himself in his hand as he stroked himself off.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and harshly pushed you to your knees, groans and expletives pouring past his lips. "Open." he ordered. You obliged, propping open your jaw as you looked up at him from your knees, looking between his hand pumping his cock and his face.

You watched as his chest stuttered, his tip twitching and he quickly used the grip on your hair to bury himself into your mouth–making you gag again and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You could barely close your lips around his girth, but did you surely try your damnedest.

His essence flooded your tongue, overwhelming your tastebuds with sweet saltiness as he let out a strangled groan. You swallowed as best you could around him, which he bid you the courtesy of pulling from your mouth as you struggled against his size, but not for long before he pressed his tip to your lips again, making you clean him off.

You pulled him from your mouth with an obscene pop, before taking him in your hand and lapping your tongue along the underside of his cock, eyes looking up to him. He groaned at the feeling, prying open his eyes to peer down at you.

He released your hair, grabbing for your hand as he helped you to your feet before immediately smashing his lips against yours, tasting himself off your tongue. His hand smoothed over your ass again, reveling in the softness of your flesh before he pulled away.

"Rehearsals start Thursday at noon. Be there on time." he huffed as he shoved himself back in his pants. You stood speechlessly for a moment–recounting what just happened in your head. His eyes met yours, his brows raising slightly, "Do you understand?"

You quickly nodded your head, "Yes. Thursday, noon sharp." He smirked softly. "Good." He turned, grabbing ahold of your clothes and outstretched them to you.

You redressed, your skin burning in embarrassment as his eyes kept their focus on you. He only stopped looking at you once you pulled your jeans back up your waist, rebuttoning them.

He reared around his desk, grabbing the papers you'd given to him when you first arrived in the theater room, and he outstretched those to you too.

"I'm gonna make you one hell of a star." he hummed, shamelessly running his hand along your backside again as he saw you out of his office.

You bit your lip nervously, begging you weren't walking funny from your 'audition'.

"What time Thursday?" he called after you, making you spin on your heel. "Noon."

He grinned. "Perfect."

You bid him a smile as you spun back around, your mind racing as you left the building. If your audition consisted of Charlie burying his cock in you, you couldn't wait to find out what was in store for you during rehearsals.

[mandomaterial]

Kylo ren would protect you with his life. There’s no discussing this fact. He will not even let you have a weapon. Now imagine this. The two of you somehow got stranded in the forest on a snowy, cold night. He walks with your hand in his, pulling you along and when he noticed that you were shivering, not wearing proper clothing, after all they had caught the two of you off guard. Without a doubt in his mind Kylo rips off his cape to wrap it around you, for him, it only covers his back and shoulders but for you? It covers you whole. Wrapped up like a cute little bun, once he made sure that the cloak was secured around your shaking frame, he brushed his hair hick, gloved fingers through you soft hair, tucking some of it behind your ear. All the while you look up at him like a baby fawn, big eyes all sparkly and pink lips a little pouty. He couldn’t help the time smile wandering onto his lips, he leans down and presses a warm, gentle kiss to your forehead, trying to calm you and show you that he truly loves you. And the message comes through, you sling yourself at him, tracing to embrace him with your arms, hugging him around his waist with your face pressed to his chest. Kylo only continues patting your head while his other arm wrapped around you as well. All was good until he felt a disturbance in the force, something was coming and it was fast.

Out of pure instinct he grabs and trows you a s far as he can, almost making you crave back first into a tree, but he was too preoccupied to see. He didn’t care who or what it was, but it looked like they were here to harm the two of you, stupid enough to challenge the Kylo Ren. He ignited his lightsaber getting in a defensive position, just then one of the raiders ran forward attacking him head on, how reckless. Kylo countered all the blaster shots with ease, spinning his sabre around with practiced hands, he counted round five others hiding badly behind trees, probably trying to sneak up on him. And right he was, not a second later they all jumped him, almost circling him with different weapons each but all of them had already signed their death wish, Kylo had a look of pure death in his eyes, how dare they? How dare they try to harm you? Kylo whipped around, almost at the speed of light slashing a few of them in vital areas. But they struggled against him, they flailed their weapons around, trying ever so hard to gain the upper hand against their singular enemy clad in black. It was futile and they soon realised, every attack they offered was deflected by this man, who almost seemed annoyed. All of their breathing was heavy, strained by the fight bug they couldn’t stop now, if they ran now this psycho would sure as hell kill them all, so instead they looked for a way to outsmart him. In that same second one of the men caught a glimpse of a small figure wrapped in their enemies cape leaning against a tree, shaking in fear. The man saw his chance when Kylo back was turned to him for only a moment, he forced his legs to sprint over, forcefully grabbed you by your neck and pressed his blaster above your ear. But it was too late, Kylo had heard your whimpers the moment you uttered them and a sense of rage filled him, Kylo forced his sabre to move faster, to kill faster. You couldn’t even see him move, it’s as just a blur with two dead bodies crashing to the floor. Now? Oh, now Kylo was walking over to the man that had a gun pressed to your head, he looked oddly calm but on the inside he was raging. It was like the calm before the storm, his enemy would perish for ever even touching you. With his flaming lightsaber in hand, he strode over, flipping it a few times as the man was shouting some shit. It all flew past him, nothing in his head except for the unstoppable urge to kill.

Kylo moved with precision, not making a single mistake, his lightsaber swung faster than ever making quick work of the man above you, not even letting him have a chance at a fight. Less than a second and he was dead, body even not registering what happened, Kylo kicked him off you. He picked you up, holding you in his arms, hugging Andy sharing his warmth with you, his clothes were soaked in blood but he didn’t care, you were wrapped up in his came anyway, so you wouldn’t get any of this filthy blood on your innocent, soft skin. He pushed your head to his lips, giving you kisses all over your hair and face, effectively shushing your little whines and tears “Hey, it’s alright, you’re safe” he whispered but you only shook your little head, hiccuping and trying to say something as well, Kylo waited patiently, rocking you back and forth a bit to calm you, “n- *hic* n-nooo…*hic* you- *hic* almost… *hic* g-got- huuurt!” You cried and cried unable to hold off the tears and Kylo continued comforting you, you were a sensitive little thing and he loved you oh so very much, still he was surprised to hear your reasoning. You were concerned about his safety and not even your own? It seemed like you’re were just like him. Seems like you loved him just as much as he did you, well maybe almost as much. Nothing could be greater than his love for his darling, his significant other, the only good thing in his life, you.

||Masterslist||

[safarigirlsp]

I was so excited to see the ask game going around. I hope it perks up around here again 💛

Do you any HCs to share for Flip, Kylo, Jacques, and Mills??

🍔

🍕

Hello!! Thank you for sending this in! Today feels like the good old days with this dumpster fire hopping and the bs flying! I love it!!

🍕What's your favorite comment you've received on a fic?

Omg @iamburdened absolutely kills me with her comments. I have re read them 100 times and I smile like a lunatic every time. She's so dark and hilarious and I love her!

Here is just one example of her awesomeness on my fic Sinners Welcome!

@vedavan leaves some of the most involved and thoughtful and incredible comments I've ever received and I am so beyond floored at the amount of thought she gives. I am so thankful for her encouragement and support!

This comment on Here There Be Monsters made me swoon

Ahhhh!! Your stories are always such a thrill, a joyride from beginning to end, and this one was no exception. I loved every word, and your gift for action scenes and gorgeous descriptions shone so brightly here. I loved all the side characters too: from the colorful ragtag assortment of pirates and whores, to Legris' trusted crew and of course the legendary Pierre; the elegantly villainous Talvington and the mysterious, bewitching Grey Lady. Even the ship herself, the Belle Dame, was a character in and of herself. And of course as always I appreciate Carroughes disgusting appearance and his inevitable demise. Your obvious love and passion for the subject matter and for the characters (no one writes a better, hotter, more delicious male MC than your Legris 🔥🔥🥵) made this such a joy to read, and I was almost sad when it ended. Action, romance, drama... your stories have it all and I'm completely addicted. Perfection! ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

@reveluving inspires me to write more insanity by her support and beautiful comments on my stories!

This is so hard actually, but I have to shout out to my favorite people here and the most supportive and amazing people I know who always spur me to keep churning out my bs and do more!

You, of course! @queeniebee and all the other friends I have here who instantly come to mind when I think of support and wonderful people! @babbushka @lumberjack00fantasies Silky!! @gabesprincess @mrs-gucci @rynwritesstuff @mythrielofsolitude @reylokisses @queen-of-elves @srorgana1 @kyloremus

🍔What's a headcanon that hasn't made it into a published fic yet?

Kylo knew you were the one when he found he could fight with you and argue without losing his temper. He has a famously hot temper. He's a notoriously violent man. But of course, he could never hurt his girl. That doesn't mean that he wouldn't lose his temper with her, or so he thought. He thought it would be a challenge, that he would feel his blood pressure rise and his teeth grind when you angered him, because naturally you're going to. It can be a little thrilling to push his buttons. But he never has lost his tempter with you, despite your best efforts. He gets hot and bothered in other ways, ways he channels to improve both your moods.

It's true what they say, that Beauty tamed the Beast.

No one can debate that Jacques has a winning personality. He's fun, lively, exudes charm and charisma, and has no hesitation putting on a grand show for his girl. However, like so many highly charismatic people, his charm was hard-earned and developed for survival. A self-made man, he had no name or fortune and had to claw his way up the food chain until he became a man of power. He remembers going dirty and hungry and cold, sleeping on the ground, awaking to a muscles that ached from cold and a growling stomach that couldn't be sated. Charisma was another skill he learned along the way to survive. Just as necessary to gain power and fortune as being able to fight, red in tooth and claw, was the ability to mingle, to befriend, to charm to amuse. He had to make himself useful in all ways to his betters until he outstripped them all.

With you, he finds that he doesn't need to act at all and that it's all natural and second nature. It makes him swell with pride when he puts a smile on your lips. He realized you were the one when he realized that making you happy made him happier, giving you pleasure made his heart soar. He will also ensure his girl, his family, will never know the feeling going hungry or cold, nor of being shunned and kicked aside. His table will always be bountiful and his arms always warm and loving for his woman. When he smiles for you, when he laughs and entertains, its genuine and it makes him love you more.

Flip was raised outdoors and helping on his family's ranch, breaking horses, branding calves, cutting timber, chopping ice, hauling hay. All the things his size and rambunctious temper were good for.

His upbringing made him a die hard western movie fan. Clint Eastwood is his favorite with John Wayne a close runner up and he's watched their entire filmography at least five times over with his dad. He's ensured his girl has seen all of his favorites and plenty of others too. True Grit, The Outlaw Josey Wales, El Dorado, Unforgiven, to name a few.

Westerns are his favorite movie genre. However, he is also quite a bit of an ornery jackass. As such, his favorite genre to watch with you is horror. He loves setting the stage, making sure the house is nice and dim, the temperature a little cool, a fire crackling in the fireplace. The ambience is perfect for a movie night in, and all strategically geared to make you want to get nice and close to him, against his chest and inside his arms. He will tease you mercilessly and goose you during the jumpy parts. Then he will laugh - bray- like the jackass he is. He deals with killers and criminals in real life. Horror movies don't phase him. Some big ungainly bastard with half his vision obscured by a mask, coming at him swinging a chainsaw that's telegraphed a mile away is hardly a challenge. Flip would have fun taking your average slasher out in spectacularly ballsy fashion. Flip loves horror movies and chill. He chills while you get chills.

Mills is tenacious and hard working in all ways. He will go the extra mile and work harder and longer than anyone. Complaints aren't part of his vocabulary and he never shies from any quantity of blood, sweat, and tears it takes to see anything through once he sets his mind to it. He's determined to the point of self destruction and will push himself far past the bounds of comfort and even good sense.

The area in which he's happy to put in the effort and diligence is for his girl. Once he sets his sights on her, nothing will deter him. He will tilt windmills and make every overture, simple and grand, to win her heart. As a lovesick teenager who didn't know a damn thing about girls, this took the shape of embarrassing acts like clumsily strumming a guitar and singing off key below his intended's window at odd hours of the night until angry fathers ran him off. He considered it a badge of honor when one particularly enraged father took a shot at his feet with a .12 gauge.

Thankfully, he has learned a thing or two and now applies his tenacious enthusiasm in better ways. He will cook for you and rub your shoulders until his hands ache. He will bring you flowers and take you out for a picnic that entails a ride in his bush plane out to a mountain lake to spare you the hike. He will carry you to bed when you're tired and hold you all night. He considers it a personal failure when he doesn't make you cum before him, and is dauntless when it comes to making you moan and sigh. He is the ultimate Golden Retriever Boyfriend. He will work every day to make you smile and never let the new wear off.