#I'm just writing...something. XD]]

[jtl07]

Hi! Welcome back! For shenanigans, any or all of the following that tickle your fancy:

Avatrice, this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/alterumsinealterononest/769889024736444416/i-just-saw-a-video-of-a-girl-scattering-tea-bags?source=share

Avatrice (or AvaLil) as astronauts accidentally stranded together for 9 extra months

Shannon x Mary enemies to lovers and they're lawyers on opposite sides of a case

oh gosh Alms you always bring the fun prompts XD i'm going with the second one though i can guarantee it ended up not where you'd expect (mostly bc i may or may not be working on a fic centered around Bea's thoughts on aikido 👀). always fun to see what you send in, i hope this is alright!

"Wait you're a black belt? You could teach me! 9 months is enough for me to get to black belt too, right?" 

The laugh that escapes Beatrice surprises both Ava and herself. Beatrice nearly covers her mouth but Ava's already wiggling, her grin stretching wide across her face. 

"C'mon Bea, we've got nothing better to do!" 

"On the contrary, we have plenty of things to do," Beatrice says, gesturing towards their checklists. 

Ava rolls her eyes, does a lazy backflip and lands against a bulkhead. "Don't tell me you haven't been curious about how it'd feel to do that kinda stuff in space." 

Beatrice knows they're talking about martial arts - they'd been talking about Ava's many hobbies and somehow, as conversations with Ava now usually go, Beatrice had ended up sharing about herself as well - but the suggestive way Ava waggles her eyebrows makes Beatrice blush. 

"It isn't relevant the mission," is all Beatrice says, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. 

Ava, thankfully, also ignores it. "You never know, Bea: what if we run into evil space aliens and we have to fight them off when they infiltrate the ship?"

Beatrice rolls her eyes. "You've watched too many sci-fi movies." 

"No such thing as too many. So, are you ready?"

Beatrice's brow furrows. "Ready for -"

"Here I come!"

It's instinct that takes over Beatrice's body, has her hands moving, her hips turning - Ava shrieking as she tumbles to the far side of the open space. It's instinct again that fixes Beatrice in place, replaying her technique, taking it apart, finding places to critique - 

"That was amazing!"

If the gravity was on, Beatrice is sure Ava would be bouncing literally off the walls. Here in zero gravity, however, Ava's settled for wildly waving her arms and legs to express her excitement. She looks silly, so free, so joyous. Beatrice can't help but laugh and let herself feel the same. 

"What was that called?" Ava asks - and Beatrice wonders how a person can grin so wide, so much. 

Beatrice shrugs. "Koshi-guruma, it's a judo technique that -"

"Aw, but I want to see aikido! Please, Bea?" 

Beatrice opens her mouth but finds herself unable to speak. It's bewildering, having someone so eager to share in something irrelevant; in something she loves. Has found herself bewildered countless times, now, because of Ava. 

She shakes her head, feels her body already shifting to respond. She's learned enough - from martial arts, from the dogged determination of Ava's smile - to know when resistance is futile. 

"Fine," Beatrice sighs, ignores the way her mouth wants to curve up to match Ava's expression. "Fine." 

Ava whoops as she drifts back towards the bulkhead, uses it to launch herself at Beatrice once again. Beatrice is ready this time, and her mind splits like it does when it's calm like this: one part executing movements written now into her bones, the other part watching from the outside-in.

It's with that part of her mind that Beatrice thinks how it's not that different without gravity, even without the gi. How her hands still know how to lead, how her hips are still free to shift and twist and redirect. But here, there is no weight - of expectation, of perfection - no need to go through the technique too quickly. There's time: to feel her body moving, to hear Ava's surprised gasps, to take what she knows and make it into something new. 

She lets her body and mind still once Ava is out of her arms, watches her tumble harmlessly through the air. (And that too is different, a relief to know that here, they're both safe.)

"The fuck - did you just clothesline me?" Ava's squawk is more in delight than affront. 

Beatrice tilts her head, thinks back on the technique and laughs. "I suppose I did," she admits. 

"Damn I didn't know aikido had some WWE type of shit," Ava says, floating back up to Beatrice. 

"Well, there is some overlap, actually. Many of the joint locks for example -" 

"Okay wait, we're gonna have to make a list now of everything you need to teach me."

Beatrice raises an eyebrow. "You? Make a list? The thing you said was for 70-year-old grandmas?" 

Ava rolls her eyes - Beatrice notes the light flush creeping up her neck. "I can be organized! Anyway, I wanna learn that one - what's it called?" 

"Irimi nage," Beatrice answers - and this is instinctive, now, though new: the way she feels herself respond to Ava's eager questioning. From somewhere outside of herself, she can see the way it's different with Ava, the way she's different; the way everything is easy and weightless. 

And as she watches their hands fit together, Beatrice thinks how 9 months may not be enough. So this is what it feels like, she thinks as she watches Ava tumble through the air, listens to her laughter, feels her own heart stumble and soar: this is what it feels like to want more.

[desultory-novice]

Hi, i know you said you're unable to do paid requests, but i was wondering if i could pay for the existing 3 chapters of MariPav. I saw you deleted them, and i really liked them.

Please, you really, really don't have to pay me... Not for an unfinished comic... I'm also very sorry that my actions pushed you to feeling like you might have to pay to have them restored...

To be devastatingly truthful, while it pains me to chose this, given how much I myself was counting on finishing this comic...

...Given the massive length (150 pages of script!!) of the story, plus the fact that I will have less time for complex, focused art over the next year, minimum, (...though, again, I want to clarify that my situation in general is BETTER than it was before) plus my wavering feelings on Magolor's post-remake backstory and characterization (...that *frustratingly* invalidated MOST of what I wrote about him in this story) it's time to admit that I will not be able to finish drawing Marionettes' Pavane. I know. I know...

...However, given that the written text of MariPav IS complete (and has been for a while) I am currently compiling the pre-existing chapters + extras with the remaining, unpublished script (ideally, I want to make a few extras for that too, but we'll see) into one large, unified document.

Unlike before, I will be keeping this one up, seeing how this will be the complete "Marionettes' Pavane." I know it's a huge downgrade from a full-blown comic...However, I have had a few friends read over just the script on its lonesome before, and, based on their positive comments, I think it may just stand as a good read all on it's own.

(You all seem to like my writing enough ^^ )

Even if it's not illustrated in the big, dramatic, showy, passionate, paneled stylings of my favorite manga that influenced me so much as child, it is still my big heartfelt treatise on the Marxolor ship.

(And if you love angst + people suffering/dying for each other, oh boy... >w<)

[osamusriceballs]

Last-Minute Plans

Ushijima x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW (cockwarming, rather soft)

Words: ~ 1,5 k

About: Wakatoshi got a ring for you, and he needs to make sure it fits.

A/n: Happy Birthday to our beloved Wakatoshi-kun~

"It fits,"

he mumbles with a sigh of relief, one he hadn't realized he was holding. He looks contently at the jewelry now adorning your ring finger.

Ushijima knows that he's late with this. He should have attempted this plan a long time ago; he despises last-minute actions. Lately, however, you've insisted on waiting until he returns home late from practice due to extended training sessions just before the crucial match, making it impossible for him to secretly slip that ring onto your finger to see if it fits. He's aware he hasn't been giving you the time you deserve lately, but he's determined to make it up as soon as he can. He intends to spoil you as soon as the match is over and his schedule finally allows him to have more free time, treating you like the princess you are.

He had nearly abandoned the idea of trying the ring on your finger. He considered simply hoping for the best, planning to alter the ring quickly after proposing if it didn't fit. He knows you wouldn't have minded, but he wanted this moment to be perfect. The first difficulty he had encountered, however, was that you had rings in various sizes in your jewelry box- probably for different fingers, but even after sorting through them, he was still not convinced that he chose the right size.

Relief washes over him as he sees the ring fitting comfortably, and for a short moment, he envisions your future together. He dreams of having you sleep beside him every night, of going on the vacation you've always dreamed of, and of giving you the beautiful wedding ceremony you've always wanted. He's already asked Tendou to be his best man and informed his parents of his plans. He even decided to send his father a notice that his son will be getting married soon—hopefully.

The ring looks stunning on your hand. It's noticeable yet subtly elegant. He's confident you'll love it; you've often praised his taste, describing him as simple in his choices, which you adore.

His gaze drifts to your peaceful sleeping form. You must be exhausted not to have woken up yet. Normally, you'd wait until he returns or awaken when he quietly lies down beside you, an act he's yet to master. You'd always greet him with a tender kiss, a gesture he cherishes most during his days and misses the most when he's away. Yet, you sleep soundly, your face soft, breathing steady. You're wearing one of his shirts, the old Shiratorizawa jersey you claim is the comfiest—adorable on you, he agrees.

He's fairly certain you're wearing only flimsy panties beneath, but he'll take his sweet time tomorrow to explore every inch of your body.

"Toshi," your sleepy voice pulls him from his daydreams, and he quickly hides the ring, clutching your hand in his. You stir, turning towards him, brows furrowing as you reach out blindly.

"Y/n, go back to sleep. It's late," he murmurs in a soothing tone, knowing you find his voice calming.

"I missed you," you groan, squinting your eyes as you try to make out his face in the dimly lit room.

"I missed you too," he replies, smiling softly and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. You smile in return, bringing your free hand to his cheek, a bit clumsily—almost slapping his face, but he doesn't mind; he is simply happy having you close.

"You haven't shaved today," you mumble as you caress his cheek. He hums in response. "I forgot. Does it bother you?"

"No, it doesn't. But you never forget to shave. What was on your mind today?"

You, he thinks, but for once, he refrains from sharing his thoughts. He needs to distract you, to take back the ring unnoticed. How you haven't noticed it so far surprises him.

"I was thinking about…" he begins, his voice trailing off, unsure how to respond without you getting suspicious.

"Wakatoshi, come to bed. You seem really tired," you yawn, and he suddenly knows what he needs to do.

Ushijima leans down to kiss you again, this time deepening the kiss with more passion. He feels your response, your body arching into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his.

"Toshi," you're already breathless after a few kisses, and he finally feels your hand relax, fingers intertwining with his with the metal still on your finger. He typically holds your hand more firmly, but now he keeps his grip gentle, ensuring you don't feel the ring on your finger. With his free hand, he traces the hem of your shirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric, encountering the softness of your skin.

"Want you, but I'm tired," you whisper against his lips, prompting him to nuzzle against your neck. "Should I pleasure you? Should I make you feel full?" You moan softly and weakly nod, your eyes barely open in the dark room. Unbeknownst to you, a wave of relief washes over him. This may not be going exactly as he planned, but making love to you with the ring already on your finger is better than he could have imagined.

He quickly runs through potential scenarios in which he could smoothly slide the ring off your finger, deciding to position himself behind you while maintaining a hold on your hand in front of your body. Shifting his body weight, he maneuvers behind you until his chest presses against your back. He skillfully settles beneath the blanket without releasing your hand, making sure not to tighten his grip around your fingers. His lips find your neck, where he places the gentlest kisses against your skin, earning the softest, most beautiful moans from your lips. His hips begin to rhythmically move against your backside, and he feels how he hardens in his pants.

You contently hum while you lean into his touch, raising one leg to allow him to slip his thigh between yours. "Feels good," you murmur as he starts a grinding motion against your pussy. He feels his growing need, a nearly instinctive response to your body. His earlier suspicion about you wearing only his shirt and panties appears accurate; that much he notices when his shorts ride up and his bare thigh grinds against your cunt. As much as he wants the feeling of your bare skin against his, he knows that undressing might raise too much suspicion. Instead, he guides his free hand downward, gently tracing circles against your clothed center.

"You're so perfect. So beautiful. I love you so much," he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder in his arms. Your grip on his hand tightens, while your other hand softly clutches the sheets. He understands your needs. Grateful that he's still wearing the soft shorts, he pushes them down slightly, quickly freeing his cock.

"Should I use some lube?" he asks, concern lacing his voice, worried about hurting you since he hasn't fully prepared you yet—a truly challenging task when ensuring your hand remains held and he can only use one hand properly.

"Think I'm wet enough," you mumble, and he dips two fingers between your folds to confirm, and he is rewarded with enough arousal to forget about his worries.

As much as he wants to ravish you right now, he knows you would probably drift off to sleep if he makes love to you tenderly—so that's precisely what he does. He gently spreads your legs further with his thigh, allowing his cock to rest between your legs. It has almost become a routine for him to set aside your panties and gradually ease his cock inside you- a practice that you often do after he comes home late from his practice sessions.

A breathy moan escapes your lips at the stretch, and he feels his own body tensing at the sensation of your soft walls around him. He continues to push until he's fully inside of you. You always take him so well—it feels breathtaking to be buried deep inside you. He still hopes you'll succumb to sleep in this embrace, even though he's surely wide awake himself.

"Feels good," you hum, your breathing gradually returning to a steady rhythm. He pulls you closer, inhaling the soothing flowery scent of your hair- a scent that always brings him comfort and calms his mind when he can't seem to rest. You might not fully grasp how much he loves you—how every fiber of his being yearns for you, how he wishes for you to be happy and to be his. This is precisely why he plans to propose to you tomorrow and to place the ring back on your finger. You wouldn't refuse him on his birthday, would you?

"Sleep well, my love."

[descendant-of-truth]

This shot just reminded me of a scene from my own fanfic (a comedic retelling of SA2 from Shadow's perspective), so I felt it would be criminal not to post it here:

So there he was, at the harbor of what looked like a city, sopping wet and trying to stay out of sight. Not an easy task, despite how many things there were to hide behind - there were people everywhere, easily more than he had ever seen at once. He had hoped that the darkness would grant him some invisibility, but there were lights stationed everywhere here, too. Some of the people gave him odd looks as he passed by, most likely due to being soaked, but Shadow refused to shake the water out in front of other people. He’d rather he looked like he just swam across the sea than like an unkempt fluffball. “Hey dude, need a towel?” It took all the composure Shadow had to not reflexively smack whoever just spoke to him, but he still turned around sharper than was strictly necessary. A human towered over him (as humans tended to), holding out a towel in one hand and a beverage in the other. But most importantly, they were wearing a jacket that Shadow didn’t realize he wanted until just now. It was a cropped, sleeveless black one with studded diamonds on it. This was so unfair. Here he was, faced with the coolest jacket he had ever seen, and he couldn’t even steal it because it was about five sizes too big. “Buddy? You gonna take the towel? You must be freezing,” the human spoke again, snapping Shadow out of his thoughts. “…No,” he replied after a moment. “I prefer to… absorb the water. Like a houseplant.” “Dang, for real? Alright then, have fun with that.” “I won’t. Goodbye.” Shadow promptly turned around and ran in the other direction.

So anyway, if Shadow has any awkward interactions with a random civilian in the movie scene I'm just gonna say I called it

[benevolenterrancy]

Dunno what happened with that request for a sickfic someone posted a few months ago, but I for one would enjoy seeing Jin Guangyao taking care of someone else: Xue Yang, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang... whoever floats your boat. If it's ok with you, of course.

Currently, Meng Yao’s office was intolerably full, which was to say there was more than just himself in it. One of those occupants happened to be Nie Huaisang, and it could be safely said that it was impossible to mistake a room that held Nie Huaisang for one that didn't. The other occupant was Nie Mingjue which might not normally be a problem except that, right now, his sect leader was inarguably ill. Well, not inarguably, he supposed, because Nie Mingjue was certainly arguing it. Loudly. With Nie Huaisang. While Meng Yao was trying to work. Fortunately Meng Yao was used to resolving problems on his own.

*cracks knuckles* there we go anon, something quick and light-hearted!

[blackjackkent]

Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars and @marigoldbaker from this ask meme: Will They/Won't They Prompts Jaheira/Khalid - [NURSE] after a battle gone wrong, the receiver begins to tend to the sender's wounds, fading adrenaline and rising fear causing them to realize their feelings. Another prequel ficlet to a larger fic I'm working on. Also progresses me to the new stage of brainrot where I'm POVing from the random side characters in Jaheira's story that I made the fuck up. 😂 Hope you enjoy!

-----

Commander Vartan of the Harpers sits in the moonlight at the back of the rattling cart, carefully cleaning the blood off his sword. “It'll be all right, lad,” he tells Khalid gently. “Try and get some rest.”

Easier said than done, of course. Traveling in a wagon full of wounded comrades is not an easy matter, even when the battle they're leaving behind was technically a victory. 

It shouldn't have been a battle at all, Vartan thinks irritably, sheathing the sword with a sudden snap. What was supposed to be a simple investigation into local bandit raids turned out to be an ambush attempt by trained mercenaries - ones who clearly knew far too much about recent Harper activities. Bad intel - and my people nearly paid the ultimate price for it.

“Khalid,” he says again, more firmly. “Do you hear me?”

Khalid stirs at the sound of the commander’s voice, blinking as if coming out of a trance. For nearly an hour now, he’s been sitting on the wagon’s floor among the semi-conscious bodies of their injured comrades, watching intently as if his fervent attention alone was enough to keep them breathing. “I- I’m sorry, sir,” he says unsteadily. “What d-did you say?”

Vartain smiles slightly, although without much humor. “I said you should get some rest. We’ve done all we can for them. When we reach Highburn Pass, the healers can take over properly with the supplies there.”

“Oh. Y-yes, sir.” Khalid nods vaguely. The young Harper’s face and neck are stained with blood from the cut over his eye and his expression is drawn and weary. “I mean - n-no, sir,” he adds after a moment. “I want to- to keep an eye on them.”

Vartan glances over at the younger man - and again, the flicker of a smile touches his lips. Khalid is, of course, worried about all of their injured friends, but it does not surprise Vartan at all to see that he is keeping close to Jaheira’s side. The druid is unconscious and very pale with blood loss; the deep wound in her gut rises and falls with her shallow breathing, barely stabilized by the potions they’ve been able to give her.

And the dark of the moonlit night very nearly hides it but not quite - Khalid is clutching one of her hands very tightly in both of his.

“As you wish, then,” Vartan says mildly. There’s a long silence, broken only by the rumble of the road rolling away beneath the cart's wheels. Then he adds, “I know you care a lot about her, lad. But she'll be all right.”

Khalid's head snaps up, and even in the dimness, Vartan can see that the grey exhaustion in his face has been replaced abruptly by a flood of color. “S-sir?” he squeaks. 

Vartan raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, was I not meant to know?” 

“N-no, I-- that is, I d-dont know what you…” Khalid trails off, looks down at Jaheira's hand in his. “Her hands were c-cold,” he says awkwardly. 

“Khalid, son… I know all of you think I'm older than the gods, but I'm not blind.” Vartan's smile settles into a rueful grin. 

Khalid's affection for Jaheira has been an open secret in the squad for weeks - as, for that matter, have been Jaheira's feelings for the young Calishite. The only remaining question is how long it will take the two of them to get a clue; Vartan hasn't participated in the betting pool on the subject, out of some lingering sense of hierarchical propriety, but it doesn't mean he's not invested in the outcome. The Harpers don't prohibit relationships among their ranks, and frankly all of the longing looks have been driving everyone crazy. 

“Why not just tell her how you feel?” he asks. 

Khalid frowns sheepishly. “S-sir, I--” He stops, swallows. “I would like t-to… b-but she is so far b-beyond me…” he mutters, half-aloud, half to himself. “And yet…”

Vartan raises an eyebrow and waits, and after a moment Khalid looks up at him with a plaintive, uncertain expression. “For a m-moment today, I thought I had l-l-lost her. It t-tore my heart,” he says shakily. 

Vartan feels an abrupt wave of sympathy for the younger man. There's a question in those words, a plea for help. Khalid has, to Vartan’s knowledge, no family in the city, and no worthwhile family anywhere. He isn't exactly drowning in people to ask for advice. All he has is the Harpers, who took him in and gave him a place, a home. 

“I think you should tell her that,” Vartan says, quietly matter-of-fact.

Khalid swallows, looking down at Jaheira's hand in his again. Then he manages a slight smile. “Is that an order, C-C-Commander?”

“A suggestion,” Vartan says mildly. “Just give it some thought, lad. Life is too short to sit on these things forever. Besides…” He grins crookedly. “You might be surprised at the answer.”

[elizabethrobertajones]

gods, I could barely even look at this to make it without feeling so weirdly emotional, so like 5 minute gpose to visualise a snippet of the dream that's haunted me, where Aymeric buys Estinien a dress.

She's not gonna wear it much but this moment from their youth will live with her for a long time, through some of the darkest times :')

[corduroyserpent]

alex i need your wise advice,,what do you do if you get a fic idea while working on another fic? try to write both at the same time or save the other for when you're done w the current one?

when it comes to fanfic, i like to follow my inspiration. so if i get another idea, i'll at least jot down as much as possible before deciding whether or not i want to write it simultaneously with my other wips.

at the end of the day, fanfic is written for fun and out of love for the source. whether you finish a wip, or never post it, or even just share 1 chapter, the act of creating is what matters imho

if you'll have fun working on 2 wips at once, then go for it! if the idea of that is overwhelming or stressful then there's no reason you can't set aside 1 wip for later. do what sparks joy!!!

[perryelornitorrinco]

;-;

[s2pdoktopus]

A comic thingy of @wallatile-qvibbler's "Fall for a Shooting Star" for what feels like three of us SakaTaka enjoyers <3

[crowttore]

modern au Dottore x reader x Rhinedottir (+ Albedo in the cuck chair)

[screamingwiththewolves]

I generally don't make posts like this, cause I don't wanna start an argument or disagreement, but I do find the "Is Hyde really a person?" discourse, a bit odd...I know it's a comic, and maybe I'll be proved horribly incorrect but...

Does he have emotions, with personality traits and preferences? Yes.

Does he insist he's a person? Yes.

Then he is, in fact, a person.

[phantom-overdose]

@southern-belle-outcasts (liked this post for a short starter from Peeta <3)

"Hey. Don't look at me like that. I told you I'd be back, didn't I?"

[piliiiiconfusionf]

Have more fanart from Imagi-cation Getaway because I physically cannot stop with them. This is from Patton's trip

@fandombead you gotta stop possessing me with your talent I can't keep doing this 😭 YES I CAN I'M GOING NUTS

I WON'T STOP THANKING YOU FOR WRITING THIS THING AND THE OTHERS THEY ARE SO DANG GOOD SGGS

Heavily recommend this, is so unique and she managed to, through ONLY descriptions, say too much I can't, sthap.

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: AFAB!reader Character: Trafalgar Law Kink: #4 Orgasm Denial Prompt: #1 "Beg for it." Gift Giver: @likesugarandcyanide

Summary: Law has you on edge, and that's where you'll stay until you've stated your needs in a properly detailed manner.

Content Notes: so much dirty talk, oral given, vaginal sex, use of slut affectionately, pet names, swearing, loads of begging.

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

You struggle, twisting futilely in a hold that doesn’t afford you as much movement as you expected. Save for a pair of socks, you were naked in bed, a fully-clothed Trafalgar Law between your thighs. One leg was over each of his shoulders, your legs dangling in the air as he’s crouched beside the bed. His hands are holding your wrists, and so you can’t squirm away, you can’t move closer easily, and you can’t force him to continue.

His lips are wet with your pleasure. Your face is wet with frustration.

“Law, by the fucking seas, please!” You cry into the room. He’s brought you to the edge three times now and you were almost painfully horny when the evening had begun.

“You can do better than that.” He muses, giving your clit a lick and making your body shiver. “You can be precise.”

Keeping his hold on your wrists his face pushes back into your folds, shaking his head side to side until he’s parted your lips with his own and given his tongue direct access to your clit. Your words garble in your throat, and you throw your head back as the pleasure makes your body shiver. You couldn’t even bring your legs together to try and push him away and give yourself a break.

He wasn’t going to let you cum, so the building pleasure was almost more torture than it was pleasure, but your legs were shaky and tired. Nearly cumming was still an exertion and you were covered in sweat, breathing heavy as your twitching legs slipped down his shoulders while he pushed himself in closer.

“Laaaaaaaw,” you groan in frustration, body arcing against the building pleasure again, your toes curling, you knew he wasn’t going to push you over, but you chased after the sensation anyway. Desperate and needy for release, if only you could keep your mouth shut.

But it wasn’t your sounds that gave you away. It was the fingers against your wrist that made him lean back.

“Beg dirty for me,” he commands, licking the inside of your thigh, causing your entire body to flinch. “Show me how creative you can get.”

“I caaan’t,” you whimper. “I can’t get creative when I can’t think!”

“Desperate then,” Law teases, pushing his tongue past your labia and plunging it deep inside you. He lets out a satisfied grunt as he pushes in deeper, letting his nose tease your clit as his tongue works inside your pussy.

“Fuuugggnnnnnh!” You nearly swear, legs spreading wide on their own, wanting him deeper since you couldn’t be rid of the stimulation. “Fuck, Law, please! Please just fah-fah-fuck me! Fill my �� my, hnnngh, pah-pussy with your cock! Please! Please just ra-rail me you bastard, please!”

You’re gasping and whimpering as Law leans back and gives you a look.

“Fuh… fuck me stupid, please.” You whimper.

“Desperate and vulgar.” He muses, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

He stands up, unzipping his pants and setting his hard cock against your wet slit, rubbing it against you slowly. “Don’t stop,” he commands, grabbing your ankles as he continues to tease you.

“Ahmm – please, please put it… in me.” You gasp as he holds your legs out wide. “I’m be-being good, so please.”

“It?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Your cock!” You cry, covering your face for a second before you move your hands away. “Please put your cock in my pussy, Law I am dying.”

“That’s my sweet snowdrop,” he grins, pushing into you slowly. The pressure, the stretch, the sensation of him inside of you is its own relief and you grab onto the sheets beneath you as the pleasure soaks through your body.

Your legs twitch in his grasp as his hips connect with your thighs, filling you entirely. He shifts a bit, pushing your ankles back as he slips a little deeper into you. You gasp at the sensation as your body welcomes him in deeper.

He begins to move, slow and long thrusts, nearly pulling out entirely before he pushes back in, grinding against you, his body teasing rough against your clit before he pulls back out. Despite the slow pace, you can feel pleasure rippling out through your body.

“Please, please Law, fa-faster.” You beg, your hips twisting and shifting as much as they can with his control of your legs.

“You’re twitching and clutching me so sweetly already.” He teases, moving only a little bit faster. “I can fill your sweet little cunt just like this.”

You nod, gasping in pleasure from his actions. “Please, please fill me up, let me, let me cum, Law, please!”

“Let you cum? This entire time, you’ve only been begging for me to fill you up.” He points out, picking up his pace as he licks his lips. “Now, suddenly, you want to cum? All this time and you were just being a greedy slut, hmm?”

You cry for a second, frustration and the hazy bliss building in you, made it hard to sort out little more other than the fact he was threatening to leave you hanging again.

“Together!” You cry in desperation. “I want to cum with you, please!”

Law’s pace hastens and your body’s shuddering with every thrust as he finally starts fucking you how you’ve wanted. “I didn’t say you couldn’t be a greedy slut,” he muses, letting your legs drape over his elbows as he grabs your wrists again. “But… you are beautiful when you’re… cumming as I fill your precious little cunt.”

There’s a shift in his voice and his angle and suddenly he’s hitting all of your sweet spots. His abs keep teasing your clit as he thrusts and grinds into you, sending jolts of pleasure racing through you and scrambling your already addled brain.

Your legs twitch and tense as the pleasure pools inside you, coiling tightly and forcing you to breathe in heavy, whimpering gasps.

“Almost.” He huffs, his pace picking up even more as he pins you between his body and the bed, railing into you as you had initially requested. The smack of skin against skin is off-set by the creaking of the bed as your body is pushed into the tight springs.

“There you go,” Law grins, pulling your arms to your hips as he leans down and assaults your neck, pushing your building pleasure over the edge in a rush.

You suck in a gasp of air as your entire body tenses. You squirm under him, trying to get away from the overwhelming crash of pleasure as you clamp down on his twitching cock. You can feel the slick mess as he empties himself inside you and your body reacts to it by nearly orgasming again, the jolt of pleasure making your body twitch and shudder.

Law’s hands are on you, caressing you and keeping you steady as he pulls out, soft kisses following the line of your jaw. He gives you a moment to catch your breath before he kisses your lips. A quiet smile, a small peck on the tip of your nose, and he steps back, setting your legs carefully onto the mattress.

“See? I knew you could be precise.” He teases, laughing as you stick out your tongue and give him a tired middle finger.

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[true-blue-sonic]

Not sure how I feel about this yet but in Run To You Silver took a dive right into therapy teachings lol