#it’s giving ‘my ship doesn’t have sex they make love while holding hands’

[djungleskogs]

.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

37 Minutes [pre-outbreak!Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/f!reader

Tags/warnings: Cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, (kind of) forced orgasm, squirting, PiV sex.

Summary: You wake up one morning needing Joel, and he comes as soon as you let him know that. And while his life may be busy, he takes the time to thoroughly satisfy you.

Words: 2,092

A/N: This is inspired by this post by @swiftispunk. It came across my dash around Easter and it's been living rent-free in my head since then. Finally had time to write it. Enjoy!

It’s just one of those mornings when you wake up with that itch that your own hand or your box of toys can’t do anything about.

Getting out of bed and pulling on a t-shirt, you grab your phone and go out to the kitchen to put the coffee on. You send Joel a text, short and to the point: Got time?

He calls you immediately. You smile as you press the green receiver.

”That was fast.”

”You read my mind,” he tells you in a muffled voice. ”I woke up thinking about you.”

”Then come over. And you could’ve texted me that.”

”Texting takes twice as long, I ain’t got time. See you in fifteen.”

You barely get to finish your coffee before you hear Joel’s truck on your driveway, and you’re not even by the front door when he knocks on it. As soon as you open the door, he’s through it, arms around your waist, lips on yours. He’s in a hurry, you can tell, but you love these hurried meetings, if only because he wants you so much. You love being wanted this much, this hard, this desperately.

He tastes of coffee, same as you, and a little sweat on his upper lip. It’s early, but the temperature is already in the mid-eighties. Your AC is keeping your home nice and cool, though.

You shove the door close and wrap your arms around Joel's neck, kissing him back and groaning when his hands slide down to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pushes you up against him. He is already stiff, and you wonder if he’s been so during his entire drive here.

"Don't have long," he lets you know between the kisses. "Gotta get to a building site across town in an hour, and - "

"Then make it count," you cut him off, and Joel reacts immediately, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt, and pulling the garment off of you. He presses his lips on yours again, hands on your tits as he walks you backwards to the bedroom. The kiss breaks only for as long as it takes him to get rid of his own clothes before he pushes you down on the bed. He immediately kneels before you and pulls down your panties before leaning in to kiss your cunt. You sigh out the first little hint of pleasure, but that sigh turns into a moan as Joel wastes no time teasing you. His tongue, quick and agile, starts to work your clit.

“Joel…!” you keen, legs opening wide to give him better access between your thick thighs. He’s sloppy and loud, but not aimless in his endeavor. His hands travel up your thighs to your belly, then to your breasts, where he rolls your nipples between forefingers and thumbs. You buck against him, keening to encourage him to go on, take hold of his hands and push them against your tits to make him grab them. He hums against your clit, looking up and grinning at your enthusiasm. How he can smile and have his tongue do that to you at the same time is beyond you, but you do not dwell on it as Joel puts it into a higher gear. Tongue on your clit, he pushes you quickly towards your peak, and when the pleasure turns more intense, you start to grind against him, your fingers plaiting with his and holding on, head thrown back to your Yes, yes, yesyesyes! until his tongue takes you over the edge. Your legs twitch as you try to catch your breath, but Joel doesn’t give you much of a respite.

“’nother one, beautiful,” he murmurs, licking his lips and letting go of your hands. “You taste so fuckin’ good.”

He attacks your clit again, licking, pushing, and prodding. Your hips buck up but are immediately locked down to the mattress by one of his strong arms placed across your lower abdomen. Your pussy clenches when you feel his fingertips at your opening. The second after, he slides two fingers inside you, his tongue and lips still on your clit as he finds that magical spot on your front wall. You shout out, back arching off the mattress, hands digging into the sheets as he massages that spot.

“God, Joel, oh God, don’t stop, fuckfuckfuck!”

He’s breathing heavily against your folds, but his tongue doesn’t stop, and his fingers are insisting on drawing a second orgasm from you. It’s almost too much, but you woke up wanting him, needing him, so you let your mind go blank and surrender, your moans turning more and more breathless the further you go. When you come, there is no sound, only a momentary stiffness in your entire body before you fall apart. You’re trembling all over, but Joel still goes on licking you. Your clit is on fire, your pussy is clenching, but goddamn him, he doesn’t stop.

“Joel,” you cry out, “stop, I can’t, I need a rest!”

“One more,” he tells you gasps, letting your clit be for just a moment. “I know you can, baby, be good for me now, gimme one more.”

You shake your head and press your thighs together, trying to crawl away, but Joel exhales sharply and grabs your waist.

“Just stay where you are, sweetheart, it’ll be over soon.”

He pries open your legs again, and this time he plants his mouth on your clit, and sucks. Your upper back shoots up from the bed but Joel already has his arms around your thighs, holding them open, locking his head firmly between them. The pleasure is almost painful in its intensity, shooting through your entire body, and you’re desperately trying to hold onto his head, the sheets, yourself, anything to relieve the force with which he’s sucking your overstimulated clit. But Joel doesn’t budge, and when you start to kick, he gets up onto the bed and lifts your lower body up into the air. Never once does his lips leave your clit, and you feel his scorching, labored breath on you, but nothing else suggests that he’s having any trouble lifting half of your heavy body off the bed. You kick, and he growls, finally letting go, but only to grab he backs of your thighs and bend you double. Your swollen pussy is obscenely on display, and you don’t get to ask him to wait before he slots his lips over your clit again.

You’re helplessly trapped, bent double and held in place by Joel’s strong builder’s hands, moaning and cursing until the pressure becomes too much. You hear a splash, Joel who hums and slurps, and you laugh without knowing why. Warm liquid is running down between your ass cheeks, and Joel latches back onto your clit, this time gulping the wet before getting a hold.

The third orgasm finally tears through you, and Joel releases you to tremble before him. You want to close your legs, but your hamstrings are so intensely stretched that you have to roll over onto your side to press your thighs together. Your clit is throbbing painfully, the skin around your pussy is grated raw by Joel’s facial hair, but he’s already nudging you to return onto your back.

“You did great, darlin’,” he praises you thickly, his tongue stiff after its service. “Just lemme grab a rubber, and I’ll fuck you good, okay?”

You whimper in return and blink your eyes open. Joel’s face, blurry at the edges, is somewhere above you, smiling at you before disappearing out of sight. You can dimly see the ceiling fan rotations, but truth is you can barely see at all, so you rub at your eyes before drawing your fingers through your hair.

Joel returns next to you, and you dimly hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. He takes his place between your legs, opening them gently.

“Be a good girl for me, or I’ll eat you out again,” he asks you sweetly, and you know you won’t survive that, so you let your knees fall to the sides, even if your hips are getting tense.

He slides into you slowly but surely, one inch after the other until he’s fully sheathed. Bending over to kiss you, his tongue slow now, he gives you a moment to adjust before he straightens his back, takes you by the waist, and starts to pump into you. It’s fast and shallow, and he gets breathless quickly, huffing out each quick breath before sucking in new air in time with his thrusts. You don’t even know if you’re breathing at all anymore, but you’re catching up with him now, and raise your hips slightly to meet his thrusts. He growls and comes down onto his forearms, getting in deeper. You embrace him, pull him down and into you, guide his head right next to yours where he hides his face in your neck as you pant your encouragement into his ear. You kiss, bite, and suck his neck, scratch your nails down his back, and slap his ass.

“Harder, Joel, harder, I need it harder!”

He snarls, his head snaps up from your neck as he gulps air into his lungs. His arms curl around your head as he picks up the pace. His cock is so deep, so hard, filling your pussy to the brink of annihilation it seems, and he doesn’t stop, he just goes on and on fucking you, his body slick with sweat that rubs off on you, his breaths growing increasingly audible for each thrust.

“Fuck!” he finally grunts before pulling out. “Roll over, baby.”

You obey, getting on all fours, and are immediately shoved down onto your chest as he slams into you. Hands on your hips, he goes hard and fast, groaning now as he breaths, one hand scrambling for a grip on your lower back without finding. His cock keeps assaulting your pussy, you are in heaven, and you still keep asking him to go harder. He pushes you down, hands pressing into your lower back as he goes on fucking you, reaching impossibly deeper each time, until you’re screaming and have to muffle yourself by pushing your face down into the sheets. Joel swears, his hips start to move erratically, and then he drives himself deep inside and stays there as he roars, pushing even deeper.

He slumps down next to you, panting like after a marathon. You turn your head to better breathe, but you can’t turn move your legs. Joel lies next to you, eyes closed, mouth open as he draws shallow breath after shallow breath, skin glistening with sweat. You want to say something but have to lick your lips several times before you can form words.

“Fuck, but you’re good.”

He blinks, and slowly turns his head towards you.

“What?”

“You’re so fucking good at this.”

“Am I?”

His cluelessness is adorable.

“Yes, you are, Joel!”

“I don’t know…” He makes a move that resembles a shrug. “I just enjoy you.”

Like this is just any ordinary fuck. You smile widely, a new kind of warmth spreading inside you. Joel just is that kind of humble person.

He now draws a deep breath, sighs it out, and then sits up. He leans over you to kiss your back, shoulder, neck, and finally mouth.

“I gotta go.”

“Sure.”

He leaves the bed, throwing a glance at the bedside clock radio.

“37 minutes. That’s a new record.”

“Jesus Christ.”

You hear the rustle of clothes and manage to roll over onto your back. Everything hurts so good, and you’re grateful you don’t have work today.

Joel sighs. “You look so fucking pretty, baby.”

You hum, smiling at him. As he picks up his t-shirt, you remember something. 

”Put it on the right way.”

“Huh?”

“You had your t-shirt on backwards and inside out when you got here,” you giggle. “Make sure it’s the right way now.”

“But then Tommy will notice, and he’ll know where I’ve been,” Joel points out pragmatically, still putting the t-shirt on the right way. It immediately gets dark spots in the front.

“I think he’ll know either way,” you yawn. Joel returns to bed for one last kiss.

“Fuck, I wanna stay.”

“I want that too.” You cup his cheek to keep his lips on yours for a moment longer.

“Mmm…” he hums into your mouth. “See you this weekend?”

“Absolutely.”

He presses one last kiss on your mouth before leaving you to your boneless rest.

[statisticallymorelikely]

✨00Q end of the year fic rec list ✨ (to commemorate the year of the lord 2023 when this ship came back to kick my ass)

the simplest of crimes by pdameron - fake marriage AU. my favorite 00Q fake married au just because the stakes are so low like they didn't have to do all that but the build up is so good.

come a lily, come a lilac by pdameron - florist!Q AU. this really got me giggling and twirling my hair.

James Bond Will Return by sorion - post-Spectre James comes back. a very charming character study.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron - pining Q. beautifully written with just the right amount of whump.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron - fake relationship but posh. i love whodunnits.

Hold Tight by orphan_account - Spectre fix-it. and fix it they did. also has my second favorite Q name.

lacunae (just the blood you owe) by finestkind - Q offers comfort as bond deals with grief. this fic honestly makes me ache, the way it handles friendship and grief and love UGH.

Say Something (I'm Giving Up On You) by Brihna - Spectre re-write where Q and James sleep before he goes off to Mexico. possibly my favorite Spectre fix-it, love emotional constipation and miscommunication.

Crossing the Bar by GwynDuLac - Q pulls bond out of retirement for an emergency mission. the best mission fic i have ever read hands down.

bloom on my skin, echo in my soul by Areiton - soulmate au. gorgeous writing.

if I couldn't be strong by SailorChibi - post-Spectre James is found abandoned in a hospital in a coma. i love how quietly vindictive Q is in this.

a bloodless coup by Ark - marathon sex. very vulnerable.

I Could've Been a Maths Teacher by Brihna - Q branch gets invaded. v good translation of the comic into prose.

I Don't Take Your Pleasure For Granted by Catchclaw - Q develops a crush. love me some pathetic Q.

I Won't Shiver, I Won't Shake by Only_1_Truth - Skyfall re-write, lots of Q whump. the hurt is so good but the comfort is even better. plus i love attack roombas.

Favours by dhampir72 - pining from Q's POV. fun fact: my gf once quoted a line of this fic to me and i knew immediately which fic she was reading, that's how much i've read this.

rain by Aniron84 - touch starved Q. god GOD, this fic!! there was a time in my life, i read this multiple times a day. the description of loneliness is so on point it always hurts.

Fidelity by marlowe_tops - Q seems to have picked up a stray. local idiot doesn’t know he’s in a relationship, struggles mentally

Indelible by enjolras_lexa - 5+1 of bond breaking into Q's apartment. quite gentle and funny.

A Hitch in the Holster by APrettySpy - Q is having A Time during a heat wave and like Q i'm not immune to the holster

when the world isn't fair by Mlle_Heloise - James rescues Q's holiday. warm and fluffy.

The Pros and Cons of Wayward Agents by Brihna - Q whump with a protective Bond. is it bad to be all teehee while reading someone beat someone else to unconsciousness

Best Dressed by HandsAcrossTheSea - PWP with kilts! really good p0rn and with bottom Bond to boot!

Through A New Lens: A Spectacular Love Story by christinefromsherwood - Q discovers he has a glasses kink, or does he? listen, i too am not immune to daniel craig in glasses so i can relate.

talk / listen by thestalwartheart - dirty talk. a masterclass in p0rn honestly, SO good.

The Inevitability of Time by dhampir72 - soulmate au. will never stop recommending this, it's so tragic and yet not?

[rynwritesstuff]

Unknown - Part Two

Billy The Kid x Reader

Warnings: Smut (PIV sex, unprotected sex, brief dirty talk, no female orgasm), softness, TW: attempted assault (NOT by Billy), misogyny, murder, comfort/fluff, confessed feelings, happy ending <3

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You and Billy find yourselves in a dangerous situation, which causes feelings to surface.

Read part one here!

“Do you know I could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you? That I’d walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you?” - Unknown/Nth, Hozier

Billy is, to say the least, annoyed with you. Traveling with someone for nearly two weeks will do that, you figure. You let him talk to you as you gather wood for a fire. You’re silent while he rants, going on and on about how his body aches, and how hungry he is, and how desperately he just wants to find another town. You don’t respond, and this only irritates him further. 

“Say something!” Billy says. You glance at him. He doesn’t often become angry like this, you’ve come to realize, but when something sets him off . . . He gets pissed. 

“Jesus, what the hell d’you want from me, Antrim? I’m just getting wood, minding my own damn business, and you–” 

“I don’t know! I don’t know, you’re the one who wanted to come this way! Why haven’t we found anything? We’re running out of food!” 

You shake your head. 

“We have at least two days’ worth.” 

“And when we go through that? Hm? What then?” 

“Then we hunt, Antrim. We adapt, we make do.” 

“You know that there’s not much to hunt out here. We both know that,” he says, following you around. You crouch down to start a fire. Sometimes his age shows during moments like this one. He’s still a kid, still so angry at the world and the cards he’s been dealt. You sigh. 

“Then, fuck, I don’t know,” you snap. “I don’t know, okay?”

He scoffs, pulling his hat off and tugging at his hair. 

“Fuck,” he huffs as he turns away. You get the fire going, then stand and turn to him. His eyes don’t meet yours. You pull on his suspenders. 

“Look at me,” you say firmly. He does. You sigh. “We’re gonna be fine. You need to pull yourself together. I know you’re mad, Antrim, I am too, but we can’t lose our heads. Got it?”

He swallows harshly. He likes it when you talk to him like this, when you re-ground him. You’re the anchor to his ship, the light that shines through the fog in his mind. He glances at your lips. You know what he needs, now. He needed to be snapped at, and now he needs to let go. 

It’s been a few days since the two of you were last sexually active, and when you look into Billy’s eyes, they are dark. You give his suspenders another tug, your chests nearly touching.  “I said, you got it?” you repeat. He nods. 

“Yes,” Billy says quietly. “I got it. ‘M sorry–” 

“Don’t be,” you say, shaking your head. “There’s no point.”

You let go of his suspenders and instead rest your hands on his firm chest. You can feel his heart racing, beating quickly, and you know it’s because of you. Maybe, if you’re lucky, it’s for you. 

His arms hang at his sides, and you take hold of his wrists and guide them to your hips. He holds you firmly as you reach back up to touch his shoulders and chest. 

“Tell me what you need,” you say, even though you already know. You want to hear him say it. 

“You,” Billy tells you. “Whatever you’ll give me.”

You smile softly. He’s handsome. Dreamy. 

“You know you’ve got me, Billy,” you say. He kisses you, then. It is firm, and his lips are chapped and rough. You sigh quietly, gripping his collar and pulling him closer. He knows how you like this: Rough, quick and dirty. Secretly, though, part of him hopes that he’ll one day get to make love to you, not just fuck you.  He wants to know you deeply. Not just your body, but your mind. He knows what kinds of things you like to eat, and he knows that you don’t like rising with the sun, and he knows that you’re unfathomably stubborn, but . . . It’s not enough. He needs to know what your dreams are. Do you want children? A house? A man? Will you long for freedom for the rest of your life, or would you one day settle for the right person? 

He needs to know where your parents were from, and what your favorite toys were when you were small, and how you like your tea. Small things. Big things. Well . . . He supposes that all things are ‘big things’ when it comes to the way he thinks of you . . .

You push his suspenders from his shoulders as the two of you kiss, then reach down to press your hand against his clothed erection. He grunts softly at the slight friction, and moves his hips forward. He says your name, quiet and desperate, and you nod. 

“Take me,” you tell him, taking a small step back to remove the clothes from the bottom half of your body. While you do this, Billy pulls his cock free from his trousers. You get down in the grass, and Billy easily gets on top of you, fitting himself between your legs. You cup his cheeks and kiss him, desperate for his touch. You tug on his hair. 

“Need you, Billy,” you breathe. And oh, how Billy loves to see you like this: Vulnerable and open and ready for him. He nods. 

“I know,” he says, pushing his leaky tip against your core. You groan as he eases himself inside of you. He stretches you perfectly. You’re so wet, and he’s got precum dribbling from his cockhead, and the feeling of it makes him grunt. He takes your hands in his and pins you down like that. He’s been doing this more and more often, you’ve noticed. You smile softly, the softness of the moment lasting only for a second before he begins to rock his hips back and forth. You cry out as his cock rubs the sweet spot deep inside of you, your grip on his hands tightening. 

“Billy!” you moan. “Ohhh f-fuck . . .”

Your body bounces beneath him, and he groans at the sight.

“Fuck . . . Such a good girl,” he breathes, voice shaky and quiet. His words go straight to your aching core, and you clench around him just to hear the choked sound that he makes. You smirk. 

“Y-Yeah? You needed this, didn’t you, Billy?” 

He nods. 

“Uh huh.” 

“How bad? H-How bad did ya n-need me?” 

“O-Oh, fuck . . .” he groans. “So b-bad . . . Mmm . . .”

You nod, tilting your head back. Billy takes the bait and leans down to suck and nibble at your throat. You sigh at the feeling. He continues to hold your hands, keeping you gently pinned to the ground. 

“Takin’ me so well,” Billy breathes. You hum. 

“You’re close already?” you ask shakily, the pleasure in your core building as he sucks at your skin. He grunts. 

“H-How did you–?” 

“You’re – mm – getting s-sloppy,” you breathe. You turn your head and capture his lips with yours. He chuckles against you, moving his hips faster. 

“G-God . . . Fuck . . .” Billy groans. You squeeze his hands. 

“Cum f’me, Billy,” you tell him softly. “C’mon . . . W-Wanna see it . . .” 

He nods, then quickly pulls his cock from your heat and jerks himself off above you. With a drawn-out moan, Billy cums, his seed covering your rising and falling stomach. You sigh at the sight, and when he finishes, he tilts his head back. You smile, leaning up on your elbows. 

“So handsome,” you tell him, gesturing for him to come closer. He does, and you put your hand on the back of his head to pull his lips against yours. You sigh as you kiss him. 

“Mm. That felt good,” you tell him. Billy smiles at the praise. 

“I’m glad,” he says. You wipe his seed from your stomach, then shakily get to your feet and re-dress while Billy tucks himself away and adjusts his clothing. You sigh once the two of you are both righted. 

“Feeling better?” you ask, stepping back towards the fire to warm your hands. He sits down beside you. 

“A bit,” he says. He sighs, then looks over at you. He admires you, taking in your features in the dim, flickering light. 

“Good,” you say. “If you need something like that, all you havta do is ask, you know.” 

Billy nods. 

“I know.”

Silence lingers between the two of you for a handful of minutes. 

“Do you want to eat?” Billy asks you. You shake your head. 

“I’m not really hungry.” You yawn. “I think I’m gonna rest.” 

Billy nods. 

“Alright.”

He watches you rise and pull the blanket from his saddle bag. You lay it down, then get comfortable on top of it. Billy looks away as you close your eyes to sleep. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. He’s never not going to think so. 

You fall asleep quickly, dozing off easily knowing that Billy is here to keep you safe and watch over you. 

***

The sound of skin hitting skin is what wakes you. A groan follows, and you hum softly as you sit up a bit, glancing around in confusion. 

Another hit, another groan. 

You look over, and your stomach drops when you see a strange man standing over Billy. Billy tries to fight back, tries to get swings in, but the man is bigger, stronger. Another man stands beside the first one, and as quietly as you can, you begin to reach down into your pocket where a small pocketknife sits. 

Adrenaline pumps through you. The second man notices you, and he nudges his friend, the one punching Billy. 

“Lookit,” he says, pointing at you. They both look over, and you let out a shaky breath. Billy is yanked to his feet as one of the men storms towards you. You scramble to get away, but he’s already on you, pulling you up. You struggle to get away, kicking and thrashing, but he wraps his arm around your throat and holds you in place. You gasp, your air suddenly being almost completely cut off. Billy watches in horror. 

“Don’t,” he says and blood drips from his nose. The man near Billy has a knife to his throat, which keeps Billy from moving or making an attempt to rescue you. “We have money, take that instead.” 

The man holding onto you hums, running his free hand over your chest as you claw at his arm, trying to breathe. 

“How could we pass up such a pretty little thing?” the man says, squeezing your breast. You hiss, trying to stomp on his foot. Billy tries to break away, but the knife is pressed harder against his throat, drawing a bit of blood. He yelps. 

“Stop!” Billy exclaims desperately. “Don’t touch her!” 

“Oh, I’ll do more than touch her,” the man says, suddenly shoving you to the ground. You groan, gasping for breath. He’s on you before you can try to run, and he yanks at your trousers. Without thinking, you shove your hand into your pocket and pull out your pocketknife. In a swift movement, you reach around and shove it into the man’s side. He cries out loudly, and you pull the knife out and plunge it back in again and again. 

Seconds after you do this, Billy catches the other man off-guard and pulls his gun on him. The man takes off without a word, knowing that a knife is nothing against a gun. You cry out as you stab the man repeatedly. He groans in agony, blood soaking his clothing and yours just the same. Billy rushes to you, grabbing your arms gently and pulling you away. 

You’re trembling, head spinning and heart pounding. You try to break away. 

“It’s me, it’s me,” Billy says quickly, pulling you into his arms as the man writhes on the ground. You turn, clinging to Billy’s shirt tightly.

“I-I . . .” 

“I know,” he breathes as you shake against him. He holds you, one hand between your shoulders and the other on the back of your head. Tears fill your eyes. 

“Billy,” you breathe. It’s all you can think to say. Billy’s head throbs, nose still gushing blood, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s never seen you so afraid, so shaken, and it breaks his heart. You didn’t deserve this. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

You let out a soft cry. You can’t even bring yourself to answer. The man groans and shakes in front of you and Billy, and Billy shields your eyes. He has half a mind to shoot the bastard in order to shut him up, but his cries die out steadily. The life drains from his eyes as he loses more and more blood. 

You let out a shaky breath. 

“Are you alright?” Billy asks again softly, cupping your cheeks and tilting your head up. Your bottom lip quivers. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I . . . Yes. I think so.” 

He nods. 

“You’re alright,” he reassures you. “You’re safe.” 

Guilt is eating away at him. He should have done something. He should have shot the men right away, he should have fought his way out of it to protect you. His grip on you tightens slightly. You let out a shaky breath. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, wiping a bit of blood from his face. He nods even though he isn’t, not really.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he tells you. You nod, then glance back at the dead man beside the fire. You look away, burying your face against Billy’s chest. 

“We should go,” you breathe. He nods. 

“I know.”

Neither of you move. Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head. God, he was so scared. He isn’t sure what he would have done with himself if the man had taken you. He’s glad he won’t have to know. You wrap your arms around Billy’s middle and let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more,” Billy says finally. You pull away slightly and look up at him. You shake your head. 

“He had you cornered, Antrim,” you say softly, shaking your head. “There wasn’t much you could’ve done.” 

You lean in and kiss his cheek. 

“It’s alright. We’re alright.” 

He nods, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I’m always gonna do my best to protect you,” he says. “I’m sorry that I–” 

“Stop apologizing,” you say quietly. “Please. It’s alright. I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re okay–”

“I care about you," Billy says quickly. You pause. “I . . . I care about you. I’d die if somethin’ happened to you.”

You search his face. He means it. Oh, god . . . He means it. 

“Billy . . .” He swallows harshly and looks away. You cup his cheek and tilt his head up so he’s looking at you again. “I care about you, too.” 

A small, barely-there smile tugs at the corner of Billy’s mouth. 

“You mean it?” he asks. You nod. 

“You know me, Billy. I wouldn’t lie.” 

His smile widens, and he kisses you gently. You hum against his mouth.  “I know.” 

[venus-haze]

Homelander x Supervillain!Reader Headcanons

Note: Mildly fem-coded reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is mostly from Homelander's perspective. I always thought it was interesting how apart from the "superterrorist" arc in season one (and into season two), supervillains aren't really a thing in The Boys universe, pretty much everyone with superpowers is affiliated with Vought.

Warnings: Violence, some mentions of sex, Homelander being Homelander. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Your powers emerge later in life, so you aren’t one of the many lauded child prodigies who accidentally burned down their own birthday parties or took out a school bus, but almost as soon as you spit at a cat-caller and the side of his car melted from the acid, Vought had its eye on you

Unfortunately for them, you aren’t interested in the slightest. The money’s good, but signing your life away to a mysterious corporation was never in the cards for you. Why let a bunch of suits call the shots when you were the one with powers? Pretty soon you’re melting bank vaults, wreaking general havoc, and living on the run. You love every minute of it

Homelander knows he can take you on, but to his shock and fury, he finds himself in a meeting with Stilwell and the marketing team who tell him that having a supervillain “arch-enemy” would further mythologize him. As much as people love having someone to root for, they’re just as intrigued by the evil thing that goes bump in the night. Besides, you mostly damage property, not people, so they figure you’re not too much of a threat to the general public

He thinks it’s ridiculous, not letting him laser you in half or snap your neck makes him look weak, or even worse, that you’re as strong as he is. The first time he takes you on, you spit at him as a Hail Mary, and to both of your shock, he hisses in pain and his skin blisters–comparatively mild to the outright bone-melting your toxin was capable of, but it cements your space in his mind as his arch-enemy

To his frustration, the suits at Vought are right, social media posts that mention you in regard to Homelander get a lot of engagement and the general public sees him even more as an otherworldly protector figure

You don’t have a supe name, but Vought dubs you ‘Rosethorn’ because you’re “beautiful yet deadly.” They slap your face on comic books that fly off the shelves. You find it ironic that Vought still finds a way to make money off of you despite your refusal to work with them

Homelander isn’t nearly as amused. The first time he sees one of the Homelander Vs. Rosethorn comics he sees red. “More like thorn in my fucking side,” he growls at the cartoonified version of you. He resents you for taking half of his spotlight, but part of him knows his resentment comes from the fact that you don’t have to answer to anyone. You do whatever the hell you want, and some people regard you as a kind of anti-hero rather than an outright villain. He doesn’t understand, you’re a criminal. You rob, cheat, and steal, and just because you hand out fistfuls of dollars every once in a while, you’re turned into some kind of underground folk hero? 

Social media is buzzing with theories that you’re actually a Vought plant to make Homelander look good or that you’re stronger than him and holding back. Naturally, people begin shipping you because of course they do. He has mixed feelings the first time he sees #Roselander trending on Twitter. It doesn’t help that sometimes you leave notes at your crimes scenes that read ‘Give Homelander my regards, XO’ 

Despite the internet frenzy and Vought marketing, you and Homelander have only been face to face a few times following the first encounter, each one giving more fuel to Homelander’s fire as he broods, stewing in his resentment toward you. You laugh at him, taunt him, literally spit at him, and he can’t do shit because Vought says not to

He definitely fantasizes about hate-fucking you, they’re all extremely deranged and elaborate. Overall, he has a lot of really complicated emotions when it comes to you. There’s some underlying affection that he’ll deny to anyone who asks. Sometimes he lets his mind wander, and in the ideal situation you’d reform and join Vought and–who the fuck is he kidding, part of him wants to break the invisible chain that keeps him tethered to Vought and see if the grass is really greener on the other side

Homelander decides he’s going to end your reign of terror once and for all when Vought indicates they want supes in the military. They now think your existence is just one of the barriers standing in the way of that, making the other Vought supes, but especially him look weak and incapable. With you out of the way, it’ll show their supes can handle military missions

Easier said than done, because when he finally corners you, ready to laser you in half like he should have all those years ago, he hesitates, and that’s all it takes for you to pounce

“Why do you let them tell you what to do? You’re stronger than them. Why do they call the shots?” you ask, and he doesn’t miss the conniving ass twinkle in your eye. He knows what you’re doing, and his gloved fists ball up at his side as everything in him screams to just kill you already. He knows you’re right. He’s the one with the real power, but he lets them order him around like a dog

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses through clenched teeth that he wishes were clamped around your throat–except he doesn’t, not really. You’re giving him an out, but he can’t take it, he’s too afraid to. After all, who is he if he’s not The Homelander?

You give him a sad smile, the kind old friends give to each other in movies when they see each other for the last time. He lets out a shaky breath. He won’t miss you. He won’t even think about you once Madelyn hears what he’s done and he gets supes into the military and Vought a lucrative contract with the Department of Defense. Another success for Homelander

“I really do like you,” you say. “I just wanted you to know that before you kill me.” Your heartbeat is steady, gaze locked in on his glowing red eyes. No one’s ever looked him in the eye upon facing their certain death from him before

He grabs your face, resisting the urge to squeeze it hard enough to break your jaw, “You’re a real piece of work. I don’t answer to anyone, got that, Rosethorn?”

You whisper your name to him, your real name, and he repeats it softly before letting go of your face and taking an unsteady step back. “You owe me. I didn’t kill you, and now you owe me.” You nod in understanding before disappearing into the night

He returns to Vought covered in blood, claiming victory over his arch-enemy once and for all. He never played poker, but you’re an ace up his sleeve if he could ever have one

[yaut-jaknowit]

Begging you for some more smut with Mai’tuiudh. Could start off as angst and follow up from the same male soldier reader idea, thought it could be fun and I love your creativity (I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t kicking my feet the day it was posted.) And as always, drink some water and take care:D

Returned to Him Part 2

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Warnings: Hate sex, rough sex, seems mean but they love each other (promise), no prep, use of lube, lots of teasing, biting, blood (from biting), marking, knotting, mentions of breeding, Mai’s a possessive cunt, forceful cum eating.

Word Count: 2998

Summary: Shortly after you return from battle, Mai'tuiudh in on the verge of never letting out of his sit. He's damn near ready to kidnap you and take you to his ship. But, you were able to talk him down. Yet, he still presses the issues. He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand you are afraid. You don't know if you could survive out there. This leads to a heated argument.

Author Note: Please forgive me for how long it took me to get to you! But I hope to make it up with writing hate sex. Enjoy! Ehehehe

Masterlist

Ao3

After three days of bed rotting with Mai nearly refusing to move from on top of you, he finally allowed you to have some space. For an alien who sits alone in his ship for months, he’s a needy, greedy creature. He needs you. He wants you. He’ll stop at nothing to have you by his side for the rest of his life. Nearly going as far as kidnapping you and dragging you to his ship.

When he attempted that trick, you had to talk him down from fulfilling that idea. The life he wants to live with you, out in space, that’s too much of a leap right now. To leave everything behind was something you couldn’t just do without preparing first, talking about it.

Plus, there’s people’s lives in your hands. You work with your military brothers and sisters to protect this nation from any threat. To the point, you’ve even lost your arm for it. This far deep? You couldn’t just abandon your life without thinking about it, talking about it.

But Mai? He doesn’t understand. The lifestyle is completely different. The differences between livelihoods and cultures. He knows at a young age already, he’ll be exploring the stars one day, hunting. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t expect to even leave earth’s atmosphere at any time. Mai believes that’s complete horseshit.

“Come live with me. We can hunt together. Get away from here. We can be together,” Mai argues and giving you a desperate look. One he would deny until his days end. He’ll also deny the fact he was pleading with you, wanting nothing more for you to join him.

You groaned and placed down the spoon, the noodles being stirred enough. “Mai-“ you about faced on your heel “- I’ve told you already: I’m not ready.” Mai growled, face morphing with frustration. His nails dragged across the kitchen counter. “I’ve never expected to live out there. Who knows the dangers? Or the fact if I could even survive?”

Had he not thought about that? The two of you are completely different species. Could humans even survive beyond the atmosphere? Or would you just be confined to his ship? Those are the worries that hold you back. But Mai’tuiudh doesn’t understand this. Not when his life revolves around space travel.

As the ignorant male he his, Mai rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion and leaned against the counter. His one arm holding up his upper body. “Do you think I would take you out there if I didn’t know it was safe?” he snapped and glared at you, brows lowered.

“You know what, Mai! I don’t know. I know so little about you that it makes me nervous.” You threw up your hands. “You can’t get mad at me for randomly leaving when you do the same or you just show up in my room out of nowhere.” You dragged your hand down your face then gave him a pointed look. “You know out there. I don’t.”

Mai huffed and rolled his head again. Maybe he could find his brain while he’s doing that. “And I could teach you. I don’t know why you think this is such a big deal. It’s space. You’ll have me every step of the way. I’ll teach you the ways to protect yourself.” The blue Yautja made it sound so sweet. Like this was a life you’ve always meant to.

The frustration hit a boiling point inside of you. With less than a week to cooperate your life after loosing your limb and him hounding down on you like that, you snapped. You marched over to him and shoved your finger into his chest. “You know what?! I’ve had it. You are not even thinking about me. Just your fucking self.”

“You fight a meaningless war. If you join me amongst the stars, I can give you a reason to fight, to hunt. You would never have to worry about anything with me,” he argued and stepped forward. That forced you to step back. Mai kept pushing you until your back met the wall in the kitchen.

Both of your hands, metal and not, were curled into fists as you angrily stared up at Mai. “At least I fight for my country. What do you do? Kill and hunt people! Good people. They don’t deserve to die.” He hunts for trophies. Those trophies include people from your kind. Humans.

A growl echoed around you. The blue Yautja leaned down and got into your face. “You don’t seem to hate it when I gift said trophies to you.” The only human skull you accepted was sitting upon a shelf in your bedroom, above your bed. His growl morphed into a purr. One of his hands rested on your chest, pinning you effectively to the wall.

Other courting gifts were around the small space offered to you. A space that you only needed.

Blood instantly ran south, your cock twitch in the confines of your pants. “I hate you,” you snarled at him with less fire than before.

Mai smirked an alien expression and brushed his lower mandibles against your jaw. His hand slid up to ensnare your throat. “You don’t. Not when I’m balls deep in your ass,” he purred into your ear. You couldn’t help the shuttered that controlled your body for a moment. Your heart beat increased, thundering under his fingers.

“I don’t know wh-what you mean,” you sputtered and attempted to keep your angry façade on. Yet, when his knee nudged between your legs, it was hard to focus on nothing more than the pleasure he was creating with little touches. “You kill people. You hunt people.”

“And?” he dismissed with smug look still on his face. The blue Yautja jerked his knee up. You instantly grinded down on it. “Clearly, you don’t mind I hunt your species. That I take their skulls. Like I could do to you at any moment, but I don’t. Because you’re my mate.”

Fuck, you were losing yourself so quickly. You reeled back your thought and tried to remember the current argument. “I can’t just… just leave my home. This is all I know.” You grinded your hips down, your cock beginning to harden and growing a bulge in your pants. A noticeable bulge that Mai reached down cupped. You grunted, teeth clenched shut for the moment. “I hate you.”

“You say that as if your dick isn’t twitching against my hand,” he taunted and squeezed your shaft till it nudged a painful degree. He pulled the limb away and only offered his thigh to rut against.

“You caused this!” you snapped at him, jerking your head forward to get into his space. Yet, the hand still pinning your neck to the wall prevented that. “This is all your fault.” The inside of your pants were starting to grow sticky the longer this went on. He growled and crowded your space against with his face in yours.

His upper mandibles widened to press his snout to your nose. “It’s your own destruction, little one.” You pressed your nose harshly to his snout and glared daggers. Until, he twitched his thighs between your open ones. The harsh expression on your face instantly melted away as you moaned and began to pant.

The strength you once held fell away. You leaned back against the wall and kept rutting your hips down on his thick thigh. “I hate you,” you groaned and let your eyes drift shut. The Yautja chuckled and trailed his tongue from your jawline down your neck once his hand was out of the way. His muscle left behind a wave of goosebumps. You shuttered in his hold and reached for his shoulders.

Your hands were snatched up and pinned above your head before you could register the movement. “You don’t get to touch. Not with that attitude.” Heat from both desire and anger flared its ugly head inside of you. You pulled on his hold but he was an unmovable statue.

Mai grasped the front of your pants and swiftly tore it off of you. You yelped as your cock met the cool air of your apartment. You squirmed in his hold, rubbing your hard shaft against his thigh the best you could in this position. The head leaking pearls of white beads. You couldn’t help the whine when he refused to touch you further.

“You’re such an ass. Fucking teasing me when you can see how hard I am,” you spat at your mate who only smirked in your face in return.

A chuckle erupted from his throat. Mai squeezed his hand around your captured wrists then dragged his other hand down your torso. He purposefully ran a talon over your already perky nipple. You had to stifle a moan to not give him the satisfaction. His sharp nails left goosebumps in their wake. He stopped just shy of your aching cock.

“Look at you. Poor thing, just making such a mess,” he teased and palmed at the area above your dick. The skin still slightly sensitive due to how thin it was. You rutted up, cock slapped against your torso. “A need little ooman, desperate for my touch.”

Fire flickered alive in your eyes. “Fucking touch me, Mai! I swear to god,” you demanded and pulled at the makeshift restraints. Yet, his hold didn’t falter.

He used his thumb to rubbed over the leak tip of your cock. The sudden, intense pleasure had your breath hitching and back arching off of the wall. Then, the touch was gone. You whined and jerked your hips forward, demanding for more. “Asshole. Ass! Hole!” He just brought his thumb up to his face and licked off the bead of precum staining the finger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fucking your asshole soon enough.” If you had the chance, you would strange him for that retort.

The blue Yautja grabbed at the leftover clothing still hanging off of your hips and tugged it off in one clean pull. Your lower body was free from anything covering it. He pulled his knee from between your legs which caused you to whine. Next, he let go of your hands, his own finding their way to your waist. They were massive, easily engulfing your hips.

One of your hands grasped at one of his tresses, the other finding a place on his shoulder. Then, Mai lifted you off of the ground. Your thighs pressed tightly to your chest, effectively pinning you in place. It only took on arm to hold you up while the other fumbled with his waist band. The Yautja was able to pull it down enough for his engorged cock to slap against his toned abdomen.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting this entire time?” He ran the tip of his own leaking cock around the tight rim of your asshole. You tried to push down enough so the very tip could push inside of you, but that failed.

“You know what I fucking want.” Mai purposefully teased you by sliding his cock between your cheeks, rubbing his slick and scent all over you. He was just as hard as you were. The two of you desperate for one another.

“Might need to remind me again,” he purred, head bowed as he watched himself scent mark you. You would smell like him for the next upcoming weeks just from this.

From his belt, he popped open a bottom and dosed his hand a little. The cold touch of lube around your puckered hold had you squirming his hold. Despite your anger for him in the moment, he wouldn’t do a thing to harm you when you didn’t consent. He did his cock next and lined up the head.

“Still hate me?” he snickered, both of his hands returned to the back of your thighs.

A glare continued to be set on the Yautja. “Fuck you.” Your head tipped back when the Yautja shoved as much of his length he could on the first thrust in. He stretched you out nicely, only able to fit half at first. Something he had to remedy swiftly.

Mai pulled back till the head was still lodged inside before surging forward. His entire shaft finally fit perfectly inside. His hips were flushed with yours, cock twitch deep inside your channel. You moaned and pulled on his tress, gaining a grunt from the alien. Mai’s hands tightened for a moment as he forced himself to stay still. “I prefer it when I’m fucking you instead,” he purred deeply, torso flushed with yours. Your cock trapped between the two bodies. The pressure adding a nice hint of pleasure to this feast.

With him deep inside of you, your resolve finally fell away. The anger that hung on you washed away. You tugged on his tress and pulled him towards your face. “Fuck me, please,” you begged him and pressed your forehead against his in a soft gesture.

“Happily.” Mai found the perfect rhythm and angle to hit your prostrate with each harsh thrust. He claimed you like many times before, knowing your body better than you did. His size offered you the ability to feel his veins each time he pulled out.

Your mate leaned down and latched his fangs onto your neck with a growl. One of your legs was leg go to hook around his waist instead. With his newly freed hand, he wrapped it around your engorged cock and teased the tip of his thumb. You smacked your head against the wall, the pain quickly forgotten about. “Mai!” you called his name in surprised, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder.

His fangs dug deeper into your neck, not yet piercing the feeble skin. “Good boy. Keep begging. You’re mine, mine to fuck, mine to breed. You’re never allowed to leave.” The teeth on his inner mouth sunk into your flesh, drawing both a cry and blood in the same second. “I’m keeping you on my ship. Never allowed to leave me again.”

All of his words went over your head at the growing pleasure boiling in the pit of your stomach. Blood ran down from the new mark he left on you, continuously marking you as his. Forever. He snarled a deep tone and quickened his pace. His rough hand slickened with lube moved at the same pace, keeping up the speed.

The double assault turned your brain into a puddle. He ran his teeth down your neck to your shoulder and snapped his jaw shut. More blood dripped from another wound he created.

“You’re pauk-de mine, little one!” he snarled and pinched the head of your cock. More precum leaked out to stain his fingertips.

This time, he forced his fingers into your mouth and made you taste yourself on them. They were shoved to the back of your throat. You gagged on them, throat tightening around them. “Yeah, you take anything I give, don’t you?” He had unlatched from your shoulder and licked at the shell of your ear. The taste of your own precum salty on your tongue.

Mai’tuiudh pulled them out and resumed to jerking you off. The saliva on his fingers adding to the slick covering your shaft. You mewled. Your metal hand still holding onto his tress while your flesh one gripped his shoulder with a deadly hold.

“Are you going to come? Already?” He could feel the telltale signs of your muscles pulsing around his thick shaft. Not that he was doing so hot either. His knot already expanding, waiting for his seed to spill into you awaiting body.

“So-so are you,” you retorted with a snarky response and kept panting. Your head rolled back, exposing the column of your throat to him. Blood already stained your skin. His teeth have already laid their claim on you.

A chuckle escaped from the alien. “Yeah, yeah I am. Because I know I’m going to knot you and fill your ass with my seed. I’ve marked you, my mate.” By gods grace, he was good at that.

Close to edge, he focused solely on your tip with short, quick jerks. You were instantly spurting cum all over his hand and chest, running down his toned abs. Your eyes rolled into your head as every muscle tightened and locked down on his still pounding cock.

“That’s it, good boy. Coming around me. Yeah,” he said with a breathy tone and rested his forehead against your shoulder. “You’re going to take it. You’re going to take every drop or I’m going to fuck it back into you. Don’t you dare waste a single drop.” His pace quickened, throwing you into oversensitivity. You tried to squirm, anything to get him to ease up or at least stop touching your cock. But, Mai get’s what he wants.

With one last thrust, he buried his knot passed your tight ring of muscles and filled you with his seed. He groaned deeply, body twitching. His cock throbbed, pulsing as his seed fills you. Not a single drop allowed to drip pass the knot sealing everything inside of you.

You groaned and let your eyes fluttered open once he stopped twitching. A lopsided grin washed over your features. Mai picked up his head to look down at you and mess he made of you. A grunt sounded from the giant. He leaned down and rubbed his forehead to yours in a sweet manner. “You always look so good with me knotted inside of you,” he chuckled and laved his tongue over the marks on your neck and shoulder.

Pain shot across the marred skin. You couldn’t help the whine that sounded from the back of your throat. He kept licking, silently telling you his apologies. Not that he meant them when he would do them all over again.

Smoke filled your senses. Your eyes snapped wide, head whipping towards the kitchen. Shit! The spaghetti!

[a-certain-romance]

Wish you’d make me cry

Characters/Ships: Shenhe x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After embracing her dominant side, she’d do anything to see you cry again

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, face-sitting, strap-on, tiny bit of sadism

A/N: Safe travels @dilucbff, - your lovely ⚓️ anon

The term clueless was an understatement. You’re her first romantic relationship, and her first intimate one. Her first time with you was very exploratory, and a little bit frustrating. She wants to be a good partner for you but fails to understand that things like this take time. When you fell asleep in her arms that night, she vowed to forever repay you for your patience with her.

The red ropes stayed on during sex. While yes, it was uncomfortable, the fear of injuring her darling outweighed the need for comfort. Yet one night, one too many slipped, and at that point Shenhe could only control herself for so long. Guilt overtook her when she saw you shed tears for the first time because of intimacy. But you were quick to reassure her that these were happy tears and that you loved how rough she was. Something clicked inside her that night, and it would change the course of your sex life for the better.

It started out slow. Shenhe adores the taste of your cunt, so much so that you sitting on her face is her favorite position. She can’t think of a better one. And she was always so gentle, rubbing circles on your thighs and being slow so she can savor your taste. After her realization, she finds that she doesn’t need to part ways with you so soon after you’re sated. She’ll keep you locked onto her face and will refuse to let you go after you complain about how sensitive you are. She just can’t get enough of you, your whimpers fall death to her ears as she practically makes herself at home in your pussy.

But her mind keeps replaying that one night. For some inexplicable reason, she can’t get the image of your tear-stained face out of her mind. She wants to ruin you like that again. Wants to see you cry out so loud that all of Liyue can hear you. You’re the first who mentions the possibility of trying out a strap, and Shenhe sees an opportunity.

Without any prior experience, she would make you ride it until she was used to handling it. She’ll have you facing her so she gets to see every cute reaction you make, starting with you lowering yourself down. Shenhe didn’t realize how big the size was until it halfway entering your hole, and she had to tell you how impressed she was.

“My love, you’re sucking me in so well”

Hands on your shoulders, she leans your body down to give you a kiss on the forehead. But even with wholesome intentions, the motion made you take in the other half and bottom out. You gasp at the sensation, you’re just so full you need a minute to adjust. Meanwhile Shenhe is looking at you expectantly. She hasn’t even done anything yet but this is your reaction? Breaking you is going to be easier than she thought.

You shyly grind and bounce into her but avoid her eyes. It’s hard to focus when her sharp, attentive gaze bores into you. She’ll lift your chin and force you to meet her eyes the moment she starts to thrust upwards so she can watch your eyes roll back as you let out an unexpected moan. You swear that hit your g-spot.

When she moves up, you grind down. She might even hold you down for a bit just to see you squirm. She’ll watch you whine, beg, for her to do something with her cock and will wipe away the tears that fall down your reddened cheeks; finally, the satisfaction that’s she’s been waiting so long for. She’ll bring your head down to her chest and tell you, her “whiny little bitch”, to start sucking on her tits if you want to cum anytime soon. Her hands will slide to your waist and move your hips up and down for you. Shenhe is a strong woman, mentally and physically. Her tight grip combined with the sheer force she uses sends you over the edge at record speed. She’ll hold you close after slipping out and kiss away your tears, praising you for being such a good girl for her.

Yes, her stroke game can be a little bit clumsy, and when she does it without help it can be a little inconsistent, but she wants to learn all the ways she can bring you pleasure. Practice makes perfect, so expect to give up your body like this much more in the future.

[unlucky-corvid]

A very warm welcome home. cayde-6 x guardian reader

so here it is. the utter utter filth that came from my brain. there is a plot....if you squint, and turn your head sideways. who am I kidding this is just straight porn. i have no idea if this is decent, enjoy. reader is AFAB with female pronouns.

also a thank you to @melissadiamond for helping keep me sane while I wrote this

this is basically unedited, i will go back at some point and make corrections.

Enjoy xoxox

warning: NSFW below the cut, nothing of a violent or gory nature but, as expected, lots of sex, unprotected sex, its just sex. and some swearing. 18+. any interactions without an 18+ age in their bio WILL be blocked.

NSFW BELOW THE CUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

It had been long. So long. The mission had gone south leaving Cayde abandoned in the ass crack of nowhere in the freezing cold with nothing but his sparrow, his ghost, and the most awful rations. When help finally arrived, he slumped back in the seat of the ship that he had been, quite unceremoniously, hoisted into by the guardians that had come to get him after receiving his SOS signal. His optics flicker off as he tilts his head back, still vaguely aware of the goings on around him but relaxing as the heat seeps back into his body. He could think of only one thing, the same thing that had been on his mind since he left for that shit show of a mission.

You.

Your smile, your eyes, how soft your hands were when you let them wander him without restraint, your lips on his neck, how hot and tight and wet you were around him as you fucked yourself silly on his-

“Cayde!” A voice snaps him out of his daydreams, he jumps slightly, optics flickering back to life, and he sits bolt upright. Glancing down he was glad his cloak had settled across his lap; he didn’t need to see it to know just how hard he was.

“You good?” the guardian that had woken him, Marcus, he thinks their name was, looks at him with concern.

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah, I'm okay just uh… systems still heating up from being in the cold so long. Gets me a little sluggish you know” he bluffs, semi convincingly as he subtly readjusts himself in his armour before standing. Nice save, Cayde he thinks giving himself a mental smack on the head.

The ship had come to a stop in the hangar, the bay doors opening letting in a rush of chilling air. The hangar was as busy as usual, ships coming and going, guardians bustling around and throwing themselves off the edge only to be revived seconds later by ghosts with seemingly unending patience... So, the usual. None of that interests him though. The only thing he wanted-no NEEDED was you. And like a hound with a scent, he found you.

“Cayde!” you call out, voice filled with relief and happiness to see him safe again. Your voice was like a balm to his weary soul.

“Hey sugar” he smiles, wrapping his arms around you.

“Shit, cayde! You’re freezing” you hiss but don’t let go, holding him closer as if urging your heat into his body. “Hey, let's get you to that little ramen place you love. We can get your stomach filled with some actual food and warm you- “

“No!” cayde interrupts you with surprising desperation, his face buried in your hair. “No. Home I want to go home please”

It takes you a second, then as you shift in his arms it hits you…or rather it presses against your stomach. Oh…ooooooh. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. “Okay, cowboy let's get you…warmed up” you purr, gently pulling him towards the hanger doors. He follows, of course, like a desperate, obedient puppy having a treat dangled in front of it.

It doesn’t take long to arrive at Caydes apartment, it takes even less time for cayde to have you pressed up against the door, hips grinding against yours as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, already panting, puffs of hot air sending goosebumps across your body.

“Been so lonely, doll. So cold on that god-forsaken planet. All I could think about was you. Please. Please don’t deny me tonight” he mutters, voice laden with a desperation you had never heard from the exo before.

“I've got you, sweetheart, let's move to the- “

“no” he interrupts you once again. “Now. need you now, please. Waited 2 fuckin’ weeks I ain't waiting any longer” he pants, gloved hands snaking underneath your shirt. You don’t even remember him taking your stir off until his mouth is kissing and licking down your chest. He bites down on the soft skin above your collarbone.

“Cayde!” you gasp, scolding him in sheer surprise, not able to see the blossoming red and purple mark on your skin. He normally isn’t so bitey so soon.

“The one I left’s nearly gone” he mumbles, licking over the almost totally faded hickey he had marked you with before leaving on his mission. You can't help but think back to that night, how he had you bent over every surface in the apartment that would take your combined weight until your legs couldn’t hold you up, and even then, he had you in his arms bent in half against the wall until he couldn’t give any more.

He begins to move lower, leaving a trail of kisses and bites in his wake before reaching your breasts. “fuck” he mutters under his breath, one hand moving up from your waist to cup your right breast, his other holding you to him tightly. “Missed these” he sighs before licking a long stripe across your left nipple. He can't hold back the whiney groan that escapes his throat before he latches on. One hand toying with your right breast as he kisses and licks at the other, all while moaning. You had never seen him like this before, so desperate, needy so…. loud. “Taste so good. Better than any food. Need to consume your doll, please. Please, can I?” he's on his knees now, looking up at you with a face of desperation you'll be seeing in your wet dreams for weeks.

His hands move to your pants. You'll be there forever if you let him try to remove your clothes but the pathetic whine that he emits when you gently bat his hands away causes you to freeze, heart rate picking up. He’s so impatient, face already buried between your thighs, your pants still firmly around your hips as he nuzzles up to your clothed crotch.

“Did you miss me like I missed you?” he mumbles, muffled by the material of your pants. “Smell so good. Are you wet for me, doll? Yeah,” you can't help but gasp when you feel his thick tongue lick a strip up your clothed cunt. That was the last straw for your self-control, so much for feeding him a hot meal and getting him rested in bed.

With swift determination you unbuckle your pants, pushing his head away you resist looking at his face knowing he's giving you that kicked puppy expression as you yank them down along with your soaked panties. Your whole body jolts as his hands push your hips, pinning you to the door as his face dives in between your legs.

No teasing touches, no playful taunting, not even the few seconds he usually takes to spread your petals and admire the wet mess he’s made you before diving in. just sheer and unadulterated desperation.

“Fuck yes” he whines, slight static lacing his voice, though you barely notice over the sound of the sudden moan he rips from your lungs. His tongue went straight to your clit, lapping up the wetness that had accumulated in the short span between there and meeting him at the hanger. “Fuuuuuuck, dreamed of this, dreamed of your sweet cunt every fucking day I was away. Starved without you” he moans, not stopping his dedicated worship between your legs with his tongue.

“wider” he mumbles, pushing your legs further apart, giving him access to your tight entrance. His tongue is there immediately, the long blue appendage promptly diving inside. His hand, still clad in leather gloves, moves his thumb in clumsy desperation to toy with your clit. You clenched around the long blue appendage that was lapping up everything you had to give, ripping a long moan from the panting exo that was knelt below you. His tongue pushes in and out as far as he can get it, which surprises you every time he does, it never looked that long. You're just as loud, gasping and panting, hands on his shoulders as you struggle to keep your legs from giving out.

You look down, the view almost makes you cum alone. Caydes eyes are almost completely closed, looking up at you. The tent in his pants makes your mouth water, the large bulge begging to be released, a faint orange glow matching his oral cavity lights shining through the fabric. As fucking divine as having him worship between your legs was, you knew what he needed. And you were going to give it to him.

Your hand gently wraps around the horn on his forehead, and you can feel him fight against you as you try to pull his head away from your crotch. He finally relents and sits back on his heels looking up at you. He was a mess, cloak hood pushed back, mouth agape and panting with your juices all over his chin. He doesn’t bother wiping his mouth as he stares up at you, pleadingly “Why? Why did you stop me? Please, i-I need…I need- “

This time you interrupt him “I know what you need, come on. Bed now”. With a quick and obedient nod, he's back on his feet, and pulling you to the bedroom, you just about make it without falling over.

When did he remove his armour? You don’t care and don’t have the time to care as he's picking you up and putting you on the bed. Before he can resume his assault on your sopping heat you get a cruel idea. You stop him, pushing him back into a kneeling position. He gives you that kicked-puppy look again and you almost let him continue.

Almost.

You lay back on the pillows and appreciate the view in front of you. Cayde knelt before you and was completely bare. Is chest heaved with each ragged breath, you swore you could see steam exit his mouth with each heave. You let your eyes travel lower, to the source of his desperation. You missed that sight. At its widest circumference, it's about the girth of your wrist, the shaft swells in the centre and tapers towards the tip and hilt before swelling widely again at the base. The shaft was 2 colours, a deep blue panel of silicone beneath the tip, then the rest of the shaft is comprised of black silicone. Running up the sides was a see-through panel allowing the warm orange optics to shine through. The tip was a soft pastel blue, swollen and leaking more pre than you’d ever seen before. It made your mouth water.

“Doll, I-I can't take you starin’ at me like that. Do somethin’ I'm begging you” he his pants softly, snapping you out of your gazing.

That’s when a devious idea enters your brain. You lie back and spread your legs, making sure cayde gets a view of everything. His eyes are fixed on your slick entrance as you trail a hand between your legs and gently rub light circles on your clit, a soft gasp slipping through your lips as your back arches slightly. He squirms in place; he had cottoned onto your plan.

“Baby don’t do this please” he begs. Begs. That was a first, and you intended to get many more out of him that night.

“What?” you ask with faux innocence as you slowly slip a finger inside yourself “So wet” you moan softly, knowing it was only adding to the poor exos torture. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes!” Cayde doesn’t care how desperate he sounds anymore; he was so hard it hurt. He didn’t know how much pre he had leaked but the small puddle forming between his legs on the bed sheets spoke loudly of how much he needed you. “Been 2 long weeks, too long. I need- I need you, need anything. I’ll do anything, I’ll do all my paperwork, I’ll do all the housework I’ll do anything sweetie just-fuck-just let me fuck you”

His words head straight to your pussy, and you can feel yourself tighten around your finger. You're no way stretched enough to take the monster cayde calls a dick inside you, but for him, you would. You pat the bed beside you “Lie down, let me take care of you”

He eagerly lays down on his back, eyes watching you eagerly. You wrap your hand around his length, and he hisses, head rolling back as you slowly stroke the shaft, drenched in his own pre cum. His hips buck up needly into your hand “M-more, m-more need more. Please baby, i-I can't wait- i-I won't last want to be inside you” he babbles desperately.

You shift forward, your legs on either side of his hips as you grind your hips down onto his painfully hard erection. He shoots forward sitting up, gripping your hips, pressing his face into your shoulder. He wasn’t even inside you yet and he was on the verge of whimpering. You slowly shift your hips back and forth, your wetness mixing with his seemingly unending amount of pre, pulling moan after moan from his throat. They were unrestrained, filled with static.

“Fuck! Please, please stop teasing me, love” he hasps, his fingers digging into your hips. They were definitely going to leave bruises, but you know your ghost could heal them…not that you would want it to.

“Beg” you smirk. He freezes momentarily.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetie, beg” you purr, slowing down the movement of your hips to a tortuous pace.

“Please, doll. Been thinking of you since I left 2 weeks ago, has been hard since I left. Couldn’t do jack shit about it, left without you for so fucking long. Thought about how fuckin hot and wet and tight you are, please baby, doll, sweetheart, just stop damn teasing me” he whines, flopping back onto the bed, looking up at you, eyes wide.

You finally take mercy on him, lifting your hips and lining him up with your entrance. You can see him struggling with his self-control, trying not to force himself up into you. You sink down onto the head, the bulbous tip was a painful stretch in the most delectable way, made even better by the debouched groan that manages to find its way through the static of Caydes voice synthesiser. “So fucking tight” he growls “just like I imagined-no-better”

You take your time, slowly sinking onto his shaft, wincing slightly when you reach the wider point at the centre. You feel so full, so delightfully stuffed and you're only halfway down. You try and pace yourself but it's hard when the exo whose dick is half sheathed in your cunt is a squirming mess of broken whines and barely distinguishable begs. You reach the final hurdle, the swollen base of his cock, almost knot like and you drop your hips, arching your back as your ass finally settles on his hips.  “So fucking big” you groan, leaning back onto your hands which were rested on his thighs. You can feel the faux muscles, taught like a coiled spring.

His eyes are fixed on where his cock disappears up inside you, and his fingers reach out, trembling to trace the dull orange glow that reaches just below your belly button. His fingers lower to play with your clit causing you to get impossibly tighter. His optics stutter on and off as his head lolls back “t-traveller above, you're so damn t-tight!”

After a second to adjust, you drag your hips up before dropping them back down, his grip on your hips tightens, and you can see the tension in his jaw, every slow rise and slam down onto his cock causes a ripple effect, static increase g in his voice, optics flickering on and off in rapid blinks. Despite how loud his broken words and moans are, the wet slapping of your cunt on his cock can be heard.

You continue your tortuously slow movements, relishing in the way he’s, stuffing you full in a way that feels like he was moulded to fit you. “f̴̻̪̺̮͍̰̹̰͓̈́̃̅̿̄̽̋̕͝͝-̸̡̜̭̰̅̚͠f̶̻̣̜̋͛̀͋̉a̷̡̤̖̱̥̱̅̆́̂̄͘s̷͎̤͗̎̄́͒̓̋̈́͋̕t̵̗̖̥̰̤͎͈̊̆̄́̍́͝e̵̢̞̦̝̜̻͋͌͆ͅr̷̨͉͉̹͌͊̈́̽̈͛̓͑͝,̵̡̥̗̖̈́͂̿͠ ̵̡̯̫̜̰̾̉͑̐̏͑̚͝ͅ sweet girl please ,̵̻̫͕̘́ ̸̗̞͒͝p̵̭̗̪̤͙̪̯̺͓̳̈́͒̃l̶̳̮͖̰̪͈̈̂͜͝ͅẽ̸̛͙̗̈́̋̋́̇a̷̖͚̠͍͌͜ş̷̧̫̠̭̼͖͈̥̾̒̽̂̍͋͐̓͘ḙ̵̢̝͓͚̥͍̄̑̐̇͂̕ ̸̧̞̖̤̮̻̠͐̄ faster̶̙̖̙̎̊̎̍̚” he begs, his voice becoming more and more filled with static. His hands grip your hips with urgency as he tries to buck up into you, each time he does, you still your movements earning yourself groans of frustration.

“Aww what's wrong, Hunter Vanguard? You a little pent u-AHH!” your teasing him is the straw that broke the camel's back. His feet plant onto the bed and he flips the pair of you with a growl. The next thing you know you're on your back beneath him, he's still sheathed in you to the hilt.

“that's it. If you won’t give me what I need, I'll take it,” he growls before pulling out till just the tip remains inside you before slamming back into the hilt, starting a brutal pace. His hips slam into your own with bruising vigour, his face buried into your neck. Between his static-filled moans in your ear and the sound of his body slamming into your own, you can barely hear your own cries of pleasure. Overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure that blurred with pain you grip onto his shoulder, legs spreading wider to accommodate his hips and allow him deeper.

“Thought you could get away with t-t- t̶͈͖̺̿̅̒̾͂̎͑ě̵̛͇͉̲̊̉́̚͜a̵̢̝͈̙͉̫͚̐̃̓̾́͐͜ŝ̶̯̥͍̳̠̻̖͙́̍̌͒̕ḭ̷̹̮̟͙̣̲̘̲̭͌̒͗̑́͂̒͐͘̚n̶̰̓̈̆͗̇͌̉̕g̴̡̛̛͛-teasing me? After I've been away from you for so long?” he growls, each word punctuated with a thrust. “Think I could resist this sweet cunt?” his smirk falters, smug voice devolving into a desperate moan. He shifts his hips slightly, his tip finding the spot inside you that makes your toes curl. Your core tenses, a familiar feeling building up like an elastic band being pulled tighter and tighter. “You're close, aren’t you? cum for me, sweetie. Cum all over this cock, show me how much you missed me” he pants, pace not faltering once.

You feel the tension snap, your vision going white as your back arches, and you clench around him as you reach your climax. He fucks you through your orgasm, he grabs one of your legs, pulling it onto his shoulder allowing him to hit a whole new angle. You can’t find words, it's like you can feel him in your chest, each thrust pushing the air out of your lungs.  

Every touch, every caress sets your skin on fire, looking up at cayde his optics flicker on and off, his face is tensed, jaw clenched with determined desperation. Everything was becoming too much, too good. You were so overstimulated, but he was not slowing down. “s-sorr-sorr-sorry” he moans “can’t s- s̵̢̠͔̘̤͓̲͕̍͆͌̏̂͝͝ţ̷̳̮̳̙͖̋̋́̈́̾̈̚̕͠ò̸̡̖̣̜͖͙͍̪̥͆͂̄͘p̶͓̟͔̣̬̞̘̆̎͂̀͋̂̉-stop”. His movements become more frantic, pace becoming less fluid and more unrestrained.

He drops your leg, bending over as he continues pounding into you, he holds you close, littering your neck and chest in hickies, kissing, and licking each one as moans turn into frantic whimpers. “Please, please so close so close. So perfect so tight so hot. Mine p̶̡̳̪̬̯͔̗̆͌̈͋̉̂̿͜͝͝l̶̨͔͇͍̫̏ĕ̸̳̰̭̖͕͌͂͌̅͌̈̋̊̂â̸̢̲̯͕͓̬̻̄͠ş̴͖̐͆̈̇͛̐́͝͠e̴̛͓̎͌̽́͑̊̆͆͝-please” he grips you hips as his rhythm stutters.

“inside-p-please ins-s-s-s-inside” his whole system was beginning to glitch, optics blinking, the lights in his throats, also glitching out as his voice was barely audible over the static. You nod eagerly, body covered in a sheen of sweat, as you pant and moan beneath him, trying to move your hips back onto his time with his rushed thrusts.

The nod is all the conformation he needs, thrusts becoming harder and more eager. “f-f- f̶͈͙̳̻̙͓̤͈̿͋̀̈́̏́͜u̶̯̖̔̓̏̌̅́̉̚c̷̝̉̇̈́̀͛̊̇̚k̵̨̞̩͉͙̻̲̐͊̓̔̒̉̃̀͌͝-fuck i-i-I lo-love you! G-go-gonna fffffill you” he whimpers “make y-y-you so f-full. B-be leakin’ o-out for d- ḑ̸̧̛̩͕̤̬͔̫͈̟̅̋̑̀̓͛͠ă̸̬̠̥̱̪̼͑̈́́y̶̧̙̰͚̝̪̳̍s̴̲͉͖̦͙͎̀̋̃͜͝-days”. You wrap your legs round his hips and tats all it took to push him over the edge. A desperate whimper rips from his throat, it becomes a staticky whine as he thrusts one final time. His whole body trembles, his cock twitching as he spills into you, painting your inside with his cum, leaking out of you around his cock due to the sheer volume as he completely stuffs you.

His body suddenly slumps onto you, you can hear his internal systems whirring loudly, his optics off and body still. You muster as much energy as you can to gently place a hand on his head which was face first in your neck.

“c-cayde? ” you mumble. A groan comes from him as his optics slowly flicker to life. “you okay?” you ask him softly.

He says nothing but nods. The pair of you hiss as he pulls out of you, his body flops beside you as he pulls you into him, arms around your middle.

“Miss you” he manages to mumble out, static finally starting to leave his voice. “don’t wanna be that far away from you again, doll”. You nod in agreement, aching body seeking his, it had been too long. Between your legs aches in the best way, you can feel the remnants of his seed leaking out of you but at this point, you're too tired to care, you can clean up later.  

You're not sure which of the two of you fell asleep first, but it's cayde who wakes you, carrying you to the bathroom where the bath slowly fills with soapy water.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, sweet pea” he chuckles, “let's get you cleaned up, I ordered us dinner, least I can do for that welcome home.”

[bisexual-horror-fan]

For Multi-May!!

I so desperately wanted to think of a really great request or suggestion but know that I have the opportunity all of my ideas have vanished.

So instead, I want to ask for Stu & Billy poly!ghostface with a plot or idea that you've always wanted to write but never got around to. It could also be any other poly!ship you have That One Idea for that you just never had the perfect opportunity to write.

I'm essentially giving you a wildcard! I'm super curious if you have any ideas like that - Ideas that for some reason you just never get around to even though they plague your mind. Because I sure do.

- 🦇

Well Batty! This is such a fun one! I have gotten in the habit of always writing whatever I want for myself all the time now but still, I have had this idea for a long ass time and have never gotten around to it so thanks for the excuse! Your request is the second entry for Multi-May, Billy loving lingerie and my assorted thoughts about that, so let’s go!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.5K. Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Poly!Ghostface. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Established Poly! Relationship. Could Be Read As TBABTO Compliant. Fear Play. Knife Play. Banter. Dirty Talk. Spanking. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Softness. Feelings. Mid-Sex Introspection Kind Of. Domesticness. Creampie. Slight Overstim. Sloppy Seconds. 

—

I Love You Best In…

—

Billy Loomis has always loved lingerie, ever since the first time he found out it was a thing when saw something lacy and pretty and soft in a catalogue. The thing was, he wasn’t picky, he loved it all, whether it was cotton candy pink and fluffy, almost like a cupcake; or something tight, with straps on straps, criss-crossing over each other and black, as if ripped right out of a trashy goth themed porno. 

He didn’t care, it was all good. He even preferred you leaving it on, would love to just displace it, pull particular parts aside to reach what he wanted to, something about that made it feel better, rushed, hotter for him. He loved you naked, naturally, but there was something so appealing with the lingerie worn askew, and framing your best assets as he fucked into you. 

As soon as you found out that he had this weakness you of course exploited it at every single turn. You would wear just about anything, matching sets, thigh high stockings, once you found an obscenely short dress that was made of nothing but black fishnet and that poor piece of clothing was ruined beyond recognition by the time he was through with it.

He would ask, make requests from time to time but much more often than not it wasn’t necessary, you’d play dress up plenty without him needing to prompt you. He has seen you in all manner of differently delightful and debauched attire and various states of dress, so why was this the thing that did him in the most? Coming into the bedroom to find you folding laundry, his eyes dragging up your bare legs to see all you had on was that big slouchy white sweater that Stu loved so much and judging by how high the hem rose while lifting your arms, seemingly nothing else. Billy isn’t able to just watch for long, before need overcomes and he is sauntering into the room, he doesn’t bother greeting you verbally, instead letting his hands rest on your waist. How you jumped in surprise was endlessly satisfying for Billy, he never got tired of getting the drop on you, scaring you.

Your head turns and upon seeing Billy’s face you soften, shoulders dropping back down, you roll your eyes and sigh, “Shoulda known it was you.” 

“Who else would it be?” He asked and your head turned forward again, focusing back on folding the shirt that was in your hands. He leaned in closer, his chin resting on your shoulder, his hands sliding forward, over your stomach, holding you. He could really appreciate the soft material of the clothing item you stole from Stu, now being so close he could smell his scent lingering in the white fibres. He inhales deeper but tries to keep it subtle, if you do notice you don’t comment on it, instead answering the question he posed previously.

“Oh I dunno, maybe the guy who’s sweater I’m wearing right now?” You ask and he says, “Stu doesn’t like scaring you as much as I do.”

“True, not in the same way that you do at least.” His hands start to move, sliding over you, enjoying the sensation of the top sliding over your skin, “And how’s that?”

A hum before you say, “You like doing it like you just did, sneaking up on me, making me jump, and sure Stu does sometimes too but he prefers making me really scared, making it real and intense.”

His head lifts and he leans over your shoulder, getting a better look at your face, “You want to share an example?” 

You give a small smile and with a shrug you pick up a pair of his jeans and start to fold them next, “Sure, like, last week, we were doing the dishes and at one point Stu picks up this big fucking knife I used to prep dinner earlier, right?”

He nods, his hands continue to wander, taking their time. “Mmhm, go on.” 

You do, “So he takes the knife and starts waving it around and bringing it close to me and it’s all fun and whatever but then he, like, pushes me into the counter suddenly.”

His hands move lower, the fingers on one of his hands catch the bottom hem of your sweater, starting to drag it up, and the other starts to run over the newly exposed skin.

You are still talking, “He’s got a hand on my throat and the knife is so close to my face and he is giving me that look, you know it, like he is hungry and manic, And he’s saying all these terribly threatening things in that low sweet tone with that big fucking grin and it’s-”

“Terrifying?” He asks, his own smile clear in his tone, as his hand slides between your legs and you sigh out, head tipping back, “Very.”

He starts to touch, slow and easy and he asks another question, “And then?”

Your eyes fall closed and you tell him, “And then he just stops, just backs off and laughs like it is some big joke and he’s back to normal and I’m left reeling and have to go back to doing the fucking dishes.” 

“Sounds like Stu.” He sounds amused. You are sure he is picturing the exchange right now and likes it, his fingers don’t relent, they become more focused, pick up the pace and the pleasant sensation starts to sink in and you nod with a soft moan, “Mmm, totally him.” 

You’ve abandoned folding the clothes, simply holding the denim in your grasp and just as you are starting to really sink into the feeling of Billy touching you, his hands are lifting up, instead he pushes you forward. You weren’t expecting it and fell onto the clean pile of laundry on the bed, his hands are back on you, resting on your hips, forcing them up, causing the sweater you had on to get pulled up in the process, exposing you to him. Turns out you did have something under Stu’s sweater but it is so small that only until now with you so spread and exposed can he see it properly. This is a newer piece, he’d been with you when you bought it, along with several other fun things, but he hadn’t seen it on you yet, sheer, delicate and white, matching the sweater with startling accuracy.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” 

Oh you know that tone and know it well, guess this one is another winner, you bite back a smile, his hands are back to moving on you. One comes to a stop on your lower back, holding you in position, the other between your spread legs, touching you through the material and the extra friction it provides is good, you of course alert him to that fact with a quiet moan of his name. The touching you doesn’t last long, only until he sees the clear and visible wet spot spreading over and seeping through the thin white that barely covers your cunt. Soon enough he is pulling them aside, two fingers sink inside of you, curling and feeling, his thumb swipes over your clit and you clench around him. He groans at feeling your walls gripping at his fingers, he asks, “God, you’re this wet already?” 

“Mighta had a make out sesh with Stu before he had to get to class but we couldn’t do anything serious.” You admit and he praises, it sounded like he was smiling, “What a good boy he is, warming you up for me.” 

“Yeah he’s the best, isn’t he?” You agree with a small laugh that he returns and then Billy’s fingers are leaving you, his jeans are too tight, it is starting to border on painful and he needs you. The sound of his belt hits your ears next, unsurprising and you are not complaining. You had already been thinking about seeking Billy out for this very thing once the laundry was done, finishing what Stu started earlier, scratching that itch. 

He nudges you up the bed with a light smack landing on your ass and you do as instructed, you move up and he gets onto the mattress too, one hand on you and the other on the base of himself he lines up. He is rushing but he has to have you, about to fuck you on the clean pile of laundry with no care, he is in the right position and his hips press forward and he slides in easily. 

It’s dirty and it’s quick but it satisfies you both, the stretch of him feels fantastic with just that slight achy burn from him fucking you just a little too hard and just a bit too fast. He more than makes up for it, his chest to your back, hot breath in your ear, wandering hands and filthy words, broken praise among the strained sounds of pleasure, “God, so good, how-fuck-how are you, so, so fucking good?”

You loved when he was so into it, could hardly talk straight without letting out at least one moan or a curse, not like you were much better at the moment. 

Currently all you could seem to do was gasp out his name and your own series of swear words. He was obsessed with this, fucking you in this way, his treatment rough but the sweater you wore so soft, smelling like your shared partner, it’s like you were all wrapped up in Stu but still you. His favorite was sharing you with him but if he couldn’t be here then this was the way to fuck you, the reminder of his best friend, his confidant, his partner in crime unignorable. 

He loves this sweater, so many memories tied to it and just to Stu, his eyes closed and he is overrun with the times Stu and he were close enough that he could smell him, feel him, those precious first times that changed everything. Christ, why was this getting to him so badly? Making him so sappy and soft, seeing you, wrapped in Stu’s clothes, in your shared apartment, it’s domestic and sweet, honestly everything Billy has ever wanted. You in leather or lace is good, is hot, you in this though? It is a reminder that shit worked out, he has not just one but two people devoted to him, who love him for who he is, it’s stability and safety, comfort but still finding ways to keep things exciting even while feeling all of that.

It’s doing him in faster than he would like, he wants you to reach your end too, he rushes out, “Touch yourself.” 

He doesn’t need to ask twice, his hips snapping into yours, one of his hands reaching around, palming one of your tits through the sweater, the other still on the bed to help keep himself up right and your own hand shooting between your thighs. He cums before you do with a groan of your name, body tensing and him holding to the hilt inside but it doesn’t take much more for you to find your own end, nimble fingers stroke yourself just so and you cum with him still inside of you a minute after he does. 

Your walls pulsing on him post orgasm making him inhale through his teeth at the slight overstimulation that washes over him but he endures, it hurts so good. Your high finds its natural end and it leaves you both panting, trying to catch your breath, he pulls away first, sliding out and the amount of him inside of you spills out, that snaps you back to reality very quickly. You reach back, tug the underwear into place to try and stop the drip from making this worse, you sit up, look over your shoulder and you curse seeing the leaked mess of you and him on one of your favourite shirts, “Fucksake Billy, I just cleaned these clothes.”

He is tugging his pants back up and rolls his eyes, saying like it is obvious with a smile on his face, “So clean em again.”

Before you can get up to do that or protest further he is back on the bed and wrapping you up, pulling you down with him, you sigh, knowing that laundry is out till he is satisfied with cuddling you. 

You end up falling asleep there for a while and later on you find yourself back at folding the laundry. Billy was nice enough to wash and dry it at the very least before he had to go to a late class. Stu’s sweater needed to be cleaned, some of the hem got messed up and cum stained and it got pretty sweaty overall from how hard you were going at it, so you swapped out Stu��s sweater for this dark blue and white flannel shirt Billy favoured. 

Hearing the apartment door open and you call out that you are in the bedroom and in a minute Stu comes into the room to find you just about done with your task and he sounds delighted by what he sees, “Oooh well hello there.”

A look over your shoulder and you return his greeting, “Hello to you too.” 

“You still doing laundry?” He asked, clearly confused, “You were doing this when I left hours ago.” 

Laughing, you tell him as you turn back to his task, “Yeah, ask Billy about it later.” 

You hear him come closer, he leans down, kisses you on the cheek before telling you, “I’ll do that.”

“How was class?” You ask and he shrugs as he is telling you, “Fine.” 

He flops down onto the bed, the cleared space next to where the clean folded clothes are as opposed to on top of them, thankfully. He reached out and tugs on the bottom hem of the flannel, “I like you in Billy’s clothes.”

A grin spreads over your face and you joke, “Shocker.” The look on his face reminds you of the one back in the kitchen earlier that you told Billy. 

“I know, so predictable, right?” He reaches out, one hand locks on your wrist and the other tugs the shirt you were folding out of your hands, “How about we finish what we started earlier?” 

You sigh and toss the shirt aside, one of your knees comes down onto the bed, he rolls onto his back and you climb aboard to straddle him. His hands land on your thighs and as they run up the shirt is moved as well for you to be greeted with the clean pair of underwear you changed into after your post hook up shower with Billy, blue and not unlike the shirt you had on, you were in a matching mood today it seems. “Oooh, fuck.” 

A roll of your hips, grinding down, feeling Stu quickly getting hard in his pants your head lolls back the spike of sensation. You give into the moment with Stu, positive that once he has your panties off and sees how much you are leaking, realizing you fucked Billy earlier and he gets to have his sloppy seconds that it will be another fun and hot quickie. After all of that you are promising to yourself that after you ride him that you will finish this damn laundry, even if it kills you.

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

NSFW alphabet eyeless jackk. Plsss im begging

But of course darlin’ ;)

NSFW Alphabet: Eyeless Jack

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex):

VERY ATTENTIVE! Jack is waiting on you hand and foot. He has water and your favorite snacks, and yes, you will be eating and drinking something! Jacks a former med student (Y/N), he knows what is needed for you to replenish yourself.

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

Jacks favorite body part of himself is his mouth. He has pretty lips and he knows it, in-fact, it’s one of the few things he’s not self conscious about. Besides, what’s better than making you scream his name while he tastes every intimate inch of you?

His favorite body part of yours is your stomach. It doesn’t matter if you’re skinny, chubby, buff, or even midsize, Jack has a hand on your stomach at almost all times. It’s one of the best places for leaving hickeys in his opinion, with the addition he often daydreams about you becoming pregnant, if you’re able too. In fact, when he’s feeling clingy he often presses his head to your stomach as soft and content demonic purring emanates from him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Jack likes cuming inside you more than anything, but if he has to elsewhere, his second favorite place is on your stomach.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Clothing stealer, no, you cannot change my mind. Jack takes dirty clothes from your laundry basket and will scatter them on his bed whenever he can’t be with you (Rarely, but still). Probably someone who will cut up your clothes to make them fit if he’s really desperate. Jack also scent marks your clothes, and sometimes seeing you wear his clothes is enough for his more demonic instincts to take over. Translation: wearing his clothes is going to get you fucked within an inch of your life, and him wearing your clothes is an invitation to do the same to him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Little to no experience. Jack was always too busy with his studies to really pursue a relation ship, and look what happened to him when he finally found the time. However, that doesn’t mean he’s completely clueless. Let’s just say he knows how to put those anatomy classes to work~

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Any position where he can see your face, though Jack often defaults to missionary, or cowgirl when he wants you to lead.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Jack is definitely serious about everything, the closest to humor you will get out of him is gentle teasing, or lightly taunting you when he’s subbing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He has an average amount of hair down there, but he shaves or trims regularly. Jack has a surprisingly light happy trail though.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

A hopeless romantic through and through, Jack wants to make your experience like something out of a movie. The only exception to this rule is when his demonic side takes over, but even then there’s a surplus of heartfelt kisses and closeness.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Surprisingly mild sex drive, unless he’s in rut, so he’s usually able to hold off touching himself until you’re ready to actually have sex with him. But if he can’t, he’s in your room and buried in your blankets and scent, craving your presence while he fucks his hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink all the way, it’s his way of marking you up and making sure any other creature can smell him on you so they know your his.

On that note, marking kink. Jack loves to give as well as receive hickeys.

He loves it when you bite him!!!! Jack has a high pain tolerance, so don’t be afraid of being rough with him.

Finally, and maybe most shocking, hair pulling kink. Not for you though, for him. It doesn’t matter if he’s dominating or subbing, pulling his hair is a one way ticket to getting him riled up for you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His bedroom, Jacks possessive by nature, so to have you in his room, in his bed, completely surrounded by him, is all he could ever want and more.

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

WEARING HIS CLOTHES

showing your stomach

thigh highs (especially on bigger girls)

you just in general tbh

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Will not degrade you, does

not want degradation,

do not tie him up, it triggers flashbacks!!!!

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

Prefers to give, he has three tongues for a reason, darling. Jack’s not that good at it at first, but he’s very observant towards your body language and verbal reactions, so he learns quick.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

If he’s in rut? You’re not walking for days.

Anytime outside of that? So soft and romantic it almost hurts.

If you’re in charge he likes it rough though-

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Jack likes true sex much more than quickies, once again, the only exception is when he’s in rut, and even then he still always takes the proper time to prep you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

No risks, he doesn’t want to even think about accidentally hurting you, and the thought of another being seeing you like this makes him bloodthirsty.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Jack can go for about twelve rounds at a normal time, and he can go for an entire day when in rut. He lasts about as long as an average adult male, but his stamina makes up for it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Jack owns toys for you, but not for him. He likes to watch you use them to tease him and test his self restraint.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Surprisingly very little, and it usually only happens when you get him worked up.

He does have quite the mouth when he’s subbing though, but you can shut him up with kisses so it’s okay.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Kind of quiet in volume, but he makes an ungodly amount of noises. Moaning, grunting, purring? He’s got all the bases covered and he’s not afraid to let you hear them.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Definitely has watched you sleep several times, but the knowledge that you trust him and feel so relaxed around him makes him horny, so a lot of the time he masturbates while your asleep next to him.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

BIG. At least ten inches and he’s girthy. Jacks testicles are a slightly darker grey than the rest of his body, and his shaft is the same color. His head is lighter than his body tone though, and has a more pronounced mushroom shape than most. He has prominent veins too.

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

Pretty mild usually, but when he’s aroused he’s aroused.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Jack usually stays up watching you actually, if he sleeps he’ll probably drift off in about an hour.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday fandom :) I love this episode. The aftermath of 5x01. I remember being so very excited every week cause I knew this was their season. I was so giddy for every era we were getting. This ep started the hurts so good/pining era. Nothing better than having your ship on the cusp and getting excited every ep to see what comes next. Return of Genny in this one yay missed her. Imma need more in s6. Looking at you writers.

5x02 Labor Day

We start the ep with a guilt ridden Lucy bringing Chris home to her apt. We all know at this point that’s the reason they’re still together. She nearly cheated on the man for loophole sex with her best friend. Not only that but almost partook while he was dying in the process. Still glad it didn’t go down that way but guilt is the main factor here IMO. Lucy is getting him settled in when there a knock at the door. Love how this detective comes up and doesn’t even care she’s interrupted them.

Legend already haha Says her name is Detective Misha Porter. She teaches at the UC school In Sacramento. Lucy looks star struck saying she knows who she is. Mischa said she’s been doing recruiting and her name keeps coming up. Of course it does Lucy is amazing. Saying she’s worked several impressive OPs. That makes for an ideal candidate. That she is here to recruit her.

Lucy looks guilt ridden once again as she looks at stupid Chris. Just holding her back in so many ways it’s painful. She asks when classes start? Porter tells her next Monday. Saying it’s short notice but they had someone fall out. She’s sure her sergeant would approve it. Lucy lights up for first time at the mention of Tim. Knowing he would. He would do ANYTHING for her career. Something we will see of more at the end of this ep.

Lucy continues to hesitate. Porter sees this and says her classes will open up a ton of doors for her. Lucy tells her she knows. That Detective Harper has told her all about it. She hands her the folder. Saying every unit will want to poach her from patrol after this. Lucy tells her she will think about it…Oh my girl he is not worth giving up UC for. That guilt truly dominating all her decisions.

She returns to Chris and even he tells her to go for it. We see the stress and continued weight of what happened control her. Saying no it can wait. It’s almost like she needs someone else to push her in that direction...Also that someone else is the real reason she doesn’t want to leave. *cough Tim cough*

We see Tim pull up to meet Genny. What is it about him driving that big truck that is so sexy? Mmm. Also in civies. Yum take me now sir. Haha Love that smile of his when he looks at the house. Thank you to your wife for having you do this. It sounds like Genny is having an argument on the phone. Tim asks if she’s ok? She sweeps it under the rug like a classic Bradford.

She just needed his signature on some stuff before the open house. Tim looks so excited this is done and they can finally move on. Genny looks extra sad about it. Seems like it's more than just the house. Tim picks up on this and tells her not to get sad over this house LOL She should be excited they’re gonna get half a mill each for this place. He then is sweet and tells her to call him if she needs anything. Such a good brother ❤️

We return to Lucy at home with Chris. He’s going over her packet saying she has to go. I will give him this and ONLY this. He isn’t trying to keep her from UC school. Now he is trying to do the thing only Tim can. Which is talk her down and have her see some reason. Not gonna happen with you clown. You are not the one for that job. Lucy saying this is where she wants to be. It’s not though…

Lucy is still so angry as she talks about Rosalind. As she should be that’s some serious PTSD for her. Once again not the guy to help her through this anxiety. The guilt is eating away at her and nothing Chris can say will help. Because he is part of that guilt. She almost cheated on him while Rosalind got to him. That’s what’s really eating at her.

Another reason I’m glad it didn’t happened. Would’ve tainted their time together. That would’ve been a painful hill to get over. So no thank you. I’ll be forever grateful it unfolded the way that it did. She is putting off UC for one reason she can’t tell Chris about. Would only add to never ending weight on her soul currently. I wanna hug her.

Oh how I love this scene with Angela. First off I adore him giving her half his burrito ha besties. Second she truly is a cheerleader for Chenford. Also for Tim’s happiness. She just wants to see her grump of a friend be happy. Angela knows that answer is Lucy. It’s been her forever. So she does a little poking around in this scene. Fishing to see what answers she can get. Starting off asking Tim the question that’s been on her mind since Vegas. Even more so since Chris got attacked.

‘How’s Lucy?’ We all know this question isn’t as innocent as it appears. Because well Lopez. He’s out of his damn mind if thinks she gonna let any of this go. I adore this friendship so very much. We notice how Tim likes to surround himself with strong women. His bestie is one of them. His wife another. Only ones he allows to talk to him this way. Heh. I love it. The teasing she does early on in this season is amazing. We were all rooting for her doing this.

Calling him out trying to get him to face his feelings. Do something about them. Angela is as perceptive as they come. And they are as blatantly obvious as two humans could be. Even Nolan knows LOL Tim starts off with a standard answer. She’s shaken but taking time off with Chris. Angela doesn’t care about the Chris part. Asking why he was even there in the first place to find him? Her instigation makes me laugh so hard. Trying to get a real answer out of him. Tim deflecting as he attempts to hold it together for the moment. Just saying he was dropping her off after Vegas. Lies lies and more lies.

Angela’s face is everything. Her 'Mmm-hmm' Calling Tim on his BS answer with her facial expression alone. This is so funny. Tim catching onto what she is throwing down. Asking what she’s implying? When he’s knows EXACTLY what she’s implying. Because babe you almost did what she is suggesting here. You’re just upset cause you're getting caught in that suggestion. I love her throwing back ‘What do you think?’

She is trying so hard to get him to cop to what almost happened between them. Tim goes back to his platonic answer of ‘Just dropping her off. ’ Although his voice gets a little higher in pitch when he does,. Angela’s second ‘Mmm-hmm.’ Is everything. She isn’t buying what you’re selling Timothy. Not for one second. Angela Lopez is a QUEEN. I love her sfm. Man is lying to himself and she just wants him to realize that.

Poor Lucy is desperate for another opinion. So she seeks out her UC mentor. She is so cute when she says Harper is glowing haha I love her sfm. Lucy is asking everyone except the one person she knows would have her answer. So she is hitting up a very pregnant Harper LMAO Who is in no state of mind to be helping her out.

James basically ushers her out of the house. My girl. She needs advice so much and isn’t getting what she needs from those around her. Trying to find someone to validate her skipping for Chris. Thing is she isn’t going to find that. No one is going to validate this guilt of her's like she is seeking. Once again just wanna hug her.

We see Genny waiting in the parking garage for Tim. She called him earlier in the day about offers. Saying they had a developer who wanted over asking. But also a sweet family who wanted it for asking. Tim telling her to go with developer. Cause he doesn't care bout the house. So he makes a crack when she shows up about selling it to a sweet family for 100 bucks ha Such a brother things to do to her. Genny says no.... She has another reason for meeting up other than the house. It’s here we learn about why Genny has been stressed all day. Her and her husband are getting a divorce. Tim tells her how sorry he is. He has most definitely Been there.

Tim asks about the house and who they’re gonna sell it to? Asking if they’re gonna pick the happy family? Genny says no the highest bidder. That divorce isn’t cheap. HA That’ll it’ll soften the blow for her financially being a single mom now. Tim asks if her husband is moving out? She says no she wants to move. Here actually. Asking Tim if that’s ok? He lights up. If there’s anything he needs right now it's family. Especially with all the messy stuff with Lucy atm. It’s so sweet how excited he is. Also their hug is also very adorable. I just adore them so very much.

They nailed casting for his sister. They have an excellent sibling rapport. Good chemistry in that way. Also they do look like they could be related it’s unreal. I love the smile on Tim’s face as he hugs her. My heart. Family is so important to have around. Especially when you’re close to them. This is what Lucy wanted for him out of 4x08. Them to not be torn about their dad but be there for each other like this. Getting me all emotional cause what I have with my baby sister. You know he’s excited he will get to see his nephews more and such too. I love it.

We finally reach their first scene of the ep. It’s a doozy everyone. But such a good one. This is the stage I like to call it 'Hurts so good.' I will always take good productive angst. Well written angst. It’s the BS teenager angst I cannot stand. These people are in their thirties. They don’t got time for that crap. The secret child or breaking up for no reason other than just to make the miserable. Nothing makes me angrier than useless angst just for the sake of having it.

This right here is the good stuff. They did a damn fine job with their angst. It leads us right into that good pining era as well. There is a knock at Lucy’s door. It’s Tim looking mighty fine if you ask me. Says he’s checking in. Asks Chris how he’s feeling? He replies Lucy is taking care of him. The sweet almost sad look to his smile gets me.

Knowing first hand how caring she is. She cared for him long before he was ready for it. When he didn’t appreciate like he would now. This moment is their breakup before they even got together scene. Because that’s basically what it is. We all know Tim included why she’s really holding back from UC school. Her front is Chris. When really it’s Tim and everything they haven’t untangled from Vegas. They haven’t talked about it whatsoever. Tim is there to clear the air.

Lucy is a little bristly with him at the door. He doesn’t let it deter him. Asking her if he can talk to her? She says yes and follows him out into the hallway. Ahh this hallway where so much happened last time. The context and situation so much different this time around. Tim being straight with her right off the bat. Saying he hears she’s on the fence about UC school. She has been hunting down opinions all day long. The one she needs the most comes to her. I love this sfm. Kudos to the writers for setting up this scene so well. Lucy is shocked Chris called him.

Tim says yes it was unexpected..but he wanted him to talk to her. Interesting how Chris could know Tim would be the voice of reason for her. But can’t figure she’s in love with the man and vice versa. Lucy telling him it’s not the right time. Tim won’t stand for this answer. That she owes it to herself to go. Lucy has been the voice of reason for him many times. There to absolve him of his guilt when he blamed himself about Mitch and Caleb. She couldn’t stand him bearing a burden that wasn’t his.

The beautiful part of this heartbreaking scene is he is now doing the same for her. He came not only about UC school but for her guilt. The guilt she is wearing like armor at the moment. About Chris, about what almost happened between them while he was dying. Tim telling he’s going to be fine. That what happened to him ISN'T her fault. Telling Lucy what she used to tell him. Stop weighing your soul down with guilt that isn’t yours to carry.

Lucy brings up what they were about to do. ‘We were about to..’ The way she says that line there is some longing in there. How yes, she’s still with Chris and the guilt that exists with that. But her desire for what almost happened is still there. She doesn’t want to ignore what almost happened between them.

Tim following up with ‘But we didn’t. We didn’t.’ Gah some longing in his voice too. He too is sad they didn’t. The softness in his voice as he delivers that line. Gah it’s so good. Part of him still wishing they had. They had this awakening of their feelings mixed with UC. Then Chris almost dying throwing a nasty wrench in it all.

There is so much subtext behind the lines they’re saying to each other. Lucy then notes the thing she’s been clinging onto. Being his go-fer. Asking if he’s getting rid of her as it? The hurt in her voice *heart clutch* It's written all over her face. Last thing she wants is for Tim to push her away. It’s why she was avoiding UC school in first place. She doesn’t want to lose working with him if she can’t be with him. It’s the closest thing she has to that and now he’s proposing taking that away.

This feels like a breakup because well it is. Their work dynamic/relationship is a huge part of who they are. It’s how we got to this place we’re in. It’s a sacred thing to both of them. Tim is trying to ease her hurt with his reply. Telling her 'No…he’s just trying to look out for her.' The emotions in his voice as he says this. I wanna cry. They both have pre-tears in their eyes. Tim knows this is the right thing to do. Nothing and I mean nothing is more important to that man than protecting her career. Protecting her. Look how far he has come.

Was almost rabidly against her doing UC. Now he’s encouraging it because he knows it’s what best for her. Even if that means leaving him behind. Tim refuses to jeopardize her career in anyway. It’s why he fought her being his aide at first the way he did. Didn’t want anyone to question her or why she got to where she is. Didn’t want any hand in people thinking less of her when it wasn’t true. That even if it hurts them both he is going to look out for her first and foremost.

Lucy can't believe what she's hearing. It's all over her expression in that first gif above. The hits keep coming with this scene. Tim telling her it’s time to move on. When he’s really saying is about them. They had their shot and now it’s time to move on. That they have to accept it's not going to happen for them. Gah kills me as I’m writing this. Took the man years to realizes he was in love with her. Now that he does he can’t have her. So he’s willing to do the honorable thing. Step aside and put his feelings on back burner.

Set aside what he wants for what she needs. Because he knows Lucy. How selfless she is for those she loves. He refuses to let her give up her aspirations for him. Lucy is crushed with his retort of moving on. They’re both so vulnerable in this scene. It’s what makes it hurt so damn good. Props to Eric and Melissa once again. Conveying so much with their words, eyes, and expressions. We are truly lucky to have them as our ship.

Lucy does some double talk of her own. Saying some time away would be good. Really meaning she can’t be around him especially after him breaking this off. That if she can’t be with him better to be away from him. That this far too painful for her. For them both really. Tim trying to build up her saying what a great opportunity this will be. We know how hard this conversation is for him to have. But it shows the depth of growth in him to have it.

This is so very hard on him to give up. Lucy can’t even say more. Her heart is breaking in this moment. Her person is sending her away from him. All she can muster up is ‘Mmhmm..’ because if she speaks any further she’s going to cry. Tim most definitely won’t be able to handle that. Tim with tears in his eyes telling her she should go for it. Even if it’s killing him inside to be apart from her. To walk away from their potential romantically.

Tim feels the best thing he can do for her is distance himself. He is going to fall on his sword to make sure her future is secure. Now that is love. My goodness. The way she is searching his face in the first gif. Oof. She looks so hurt and angry at him for this. She also is trying to keep her shit together. It breaks my heart. This entire scene does. Then our boy walks away and she looks devastated. He has a smile on his face till he turns away from her. Then we see the heartbreak evident on his beautiful face. Ugh.

How she can go back in Chris after that I don't know.. After this scene I knew this season was going to be a hell of a ride. This was the perfect productive angst for them. Hurt like a SOB to watch. A true gut punch to your feels. But damn so well written and acted. I loved it sfm. Oh my lord I love this season.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

Nyla’s entire birth SL is hilarious. It’s an insane ride that I love. ‘It’s a girl’ LMAO LEGEND

Thank you thank you to all you amazing readers. Wouldn’t have gotten this far without you all. Your likes, reblogs and comments fuel My soul to write. Shall see you all in 5x03 :)

[zinzinina]

okay I'm not sure I'd you're still doing the uh. thing where you write a scene from a different pov but if you are and have time/interest, would you feel like doing poe pov with that part in directions where he asks how many other guys she's been with? I love love love that fic so much btw and I'm gonna go through your masterlist when I get off work <3

Hello! ✨ A little confession: some of these have been sitting in my inbox for months. I secretly didn't plan on fulfilling this request because it meant that I'd need to go re-read Directions, and I very rarely read my own writing again once it's been posted. But I was in the mood for something fun and easy, and then I actually had a great time revisiting this story! So thank you so so much @buckyisdisabled, @lostinwonderland314, @mandaloriandin and sweet Yearning Human anon for asking for this and for your lovely messages. I really hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it x

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: PIV, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, feelings, implied cum eating, overstimulation, masturbation, friends to lovers

This is reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Poe’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

———

———

Poe sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, and her taste hits his head like spice; sharp and sweet.

She pants up at him from his pillow (his pillow) her eyes wide as a nervous animal’s, her hands curled into fists. It takes everything he has not to blow his load in his pants right then and there.

He feels a little drunk. He needs to course-correct.

Drastically.

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him. 

But she’s not laughing at him. The way she’s looking up at him…

This, right here, is extremely fucking serious for her.

Maybe he should’ve tried to make this nicer. Maybe he should’ve lit candles.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, he catches himself remembering a particularly fucked up day from several months back. His comms and tracking had both shorted out after a hit in the middle of an above-planet dogfight with no visual, and for about two hours, the Resistance network listed him PKIA. 

When he’d eventually landed back in the hanger, it was chaotic with smoking, twisted astromech parts. Unbeknownst to him, Black One was a ghost ship. 

Mechanics and pilots alike had turned and gaped in silent shock as he’d climbed out of his cockpit, and he’d only had a moment to wonder whether there was something growing out of the top of his head before he’d been knocked off his feet by a sobbing projectile stinking of sweat and smoke in an oil-stained flightsuit.

She’d only stopped crying after socking him in the chest, her voice hoarse as she told him how much of an idiot he was for not switching over to his backup signal.

He’d never wanted to see that look on her face ever again, and if he hadn’t pushed her into verbalising the source of her terror here, he’d be too turned off to go any further. He doesn’t go in for that shit; he wants his partners relaxed and comfortable and enthusiastically willing.

But it’s knowing what she’s actually worrying about—stuck in her head as always, thinking about everyone else; what he thinks of her, rather than focusing on how she feels—that makes him determined to stick with her, as long as she says. 

He’s staggered by the amount of trust she’s putting in him. Shit, he doesn’t know whether it makes his heart ache more, or his dick. Like she has anything to be nervous about. Like she isn’t the prettiest fucking girl he knows. Like making her smile isn’t the single greatest source of pride he gets to hold over himself. 

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried. 

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he says softly, and he can see how little she believes him. “Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he continues, before she can say anything to piss him off. He can handle her putting shit on him. He isn’t letting her do it to herself. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding, her eyes still huge. A sudden throb of affection makes his head feel like it’s filled with tibanna gas. 

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he tells her, grasping each of her ankles to do exactly this.

She lifts her ass toward him as he wriggles her underwear and pants over her legs, giving him a brief glimpse of the most beautiful view he’s ever seen in his life.

His brain’s still catching up when he sees the furtive way her eyes keep flicking down toward where it feels like his dick’s trying to bust through his fly.

“Don’t you want…?” 

“It’s not about me,” he cuts her off. And if you touch me right now I won’t make it, and I’ll ruin my reputation, and kill any chance of living any of this shit down with you ever again, he decides not to add.

He bends, spreading her legs with both hands. Her clit’s so swollen her labia are parted around it, the soft skin inside her thighs smeared with her first orgasm. 

Her first orgasm—the first one another person’s given her, anyway—and it’s his.

And, oh, it had been so easy.

His ego is not immune to this.

But, nice as it is, it doesn’t quite feel like a boost in the traditional sense. It feels something more like a twinge, hard and new, right under his ribcage. Like vindication, maybe, or—and he feels like a fucking moron for even thinking it—fate.

He bows from the waist and nudges into her with his nose, his tongue laving a stripe up the entire length of her pussy. 

Her skin tastes like soap. Somewhere in the dimmest corners of his head he’s annoyed at this; imagines her scouring every inch of herself raw in the showers before coming to him, filled with nerves and doubt under the spray. He presses the muscle of his tongue into her opening in search of more of the her he’d found on his fingers.

The sound she makes zips lightning-hot straight to his guts. 

His eyes roll briefly closed, and he sinks down onto his elbows, the twisted line of the sheets digging into his skin under his weight.

She shifts her thighs together, her fingers twitching at her side. He steals a glance up and finds her watching him, her lips parted, her eyes too-bright.

“Open your legs,” he encourages, his lips barely lifting from her skin. She sinks her teeth into her lip as she lets her knees fall flat to the bed. 

She’s spread out open in front of him, and he dips his head to continue. 

She flinches and tenses and exhales in turn, reacting to every touch of his mouth as though speaking aloud. It makes him feel violently impatient, and so he moves slower, trying to temper himself. 

He wants to be inside her. 

He wants to swallow her, and to be swallowed by her. Fuck, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He’s pretty sure he’s leaking precum into his pants; all the blood having long vacated his brain to swell bruise-achingly hard in his cock. He tries to stay focused, but the reality is that Poe’s thoughts ran away from him the second she set foot in his room. The challenge now is to just try not to do something stupid.

Something stupider than fucking his best friend.

She hisses, tossing her head back, her legs twitching so hard his tongue nearly loses its place against the hot nub of her clit. 

He slides both hands beneath her thighs to lift her hips to his face in an attempt to keep her still, barely managing to tamp down the urge to rut helplessly against the mattress in search of relief.

The smell of her, the taste, fills his senses. But it’s still not enough. He wants to bring her to insensibility; to work that softness into the bed, glutting himself until her whimpers turn to those of overstimulation.

He’d never really considered himself a possessive person, but as she quietly sucks in a sharp, shallow breath, he realises he wants that sound all to himself.

He pulls it out of her with his tongue again, and again, his attention unwavering.

He wants her thinking of this, of him, from now on. Every single time she comes, alone or otherwise. He wants her to dream about him inside her; tongue, fingers, cock, he doesn’t give a fuck. At briefings. At meals. Waiting around bored for launch clearance in her fighter, standing alone in the showers, when someone else presses their hands to her skin, and lifts her chin to meet her lips (and fuck, that hurts to think about, like hitting realspace at-speed, hard enough to grind his bones together). 

She comes with a pained-sounding cry, her pubic bone bumping into his nose and pushing his face away. He drags himself up and finds her reaching her hands out as though to stop him. 

“You okay?” he manages.

“Poe, I want…please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Her eyes stay on his and she blinks slowly at him, as though trying to remember who he is. His heart thunks hollowly in his chest, and he waits.

“Fuck me.”

He pauses. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. His already-painful cock jumps in his pants at the demand. “You need a break first?”

She answers by trying to drag him down toward her, her hips lifting to press against him, ankles hooked around the backs of his legs. 

He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He shifts his weight, kicking his pants down, settling himself between her legs. 

She ducks her chin and kisses his shoulder.

His head swims. He barely feels the touch of her lips through the material of his shirt, but it hardly matters. The gesture is so small, so careful, so quick, as though she couldn’t help herself.

As though it’s something she’s thought of before.

Which is when it hits him: the one thing he’s never seriously let himself entertain. Does he…actually have a chance? 

Without undue vanity, Poe knows that his looks are the one area, at least, that he can afford not to worry about. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how people respond when he flashes his teeth at them, or holds their eyes with his own for a protracted moment from beneath a quirked eyebrow. 

But never her. She’s somehow always been frustratingly, crushingly immune to every single weapon in his arsenal. It had been a source of ire in the early days, while he was still learning the colour of her voice, and the shape of her mind. 

The sadder, slower ache of acceptance had come later; gathering like thunderheads, lingering long.

She wasn’t for him. She didn’t want to be. Letting himself pretend otherwise would have only ever been an exercise in masochism. 

Despite all of this, Poe’s still human. And, as he had come to realise, knowing something intellectually is very different to knowing it physically.

Whenever she smiles at him, and bumps into him, and rolls her eyes at him. Whenever he’s inside somebody else, tasting the sweat on their skin, or stretched out around their pleasure. Whenever he jerks his cock alone in his bunk late at night, ashamed and furious at himself for such a disgraceful breach of their friendship, for the things he’s imagined.

Everything he’s ever done with anybody else; every filthy, beautiful fucking thing, he’d turn himself inside out and crawl over hot coals to do again with her, to her, for her, if she wanted.

And now, here she is.

He might not ever get another shot at this.

He needs to make it count.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?” he says, his voice coming out rough. She looks mortified, but he doesn’t care. “How many?”

“S-six,” she says. 

He nods. He’d already known about Kip and Terrett, and he’d had his suspicions about Rau and Valen. He’s a little disappointed at the knowledge that Rau had let her down with all the others; he wouldn’t have expected it. 

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, distractedly. 

He presses forward, and the first millimetre he sinks inside her already has him panicking. 

She immediately feels far too hot and close, but the hardest part, the part threatening to undo everything, is the way she’s looking up at him, as though silently pleading with him, and Gods, how she doesn’t need to.

“Oh, sh...shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.” He’s aware he’s making no sense, but that’s the only thing left in his head, probably the only thing he’ll ever know again: good, good, good.

Her fingers are clenched tight around his forearm, and he thinks she might be holding her breath, but then she lets it go, and the wet bloom of her cunt swallows him fractionally deeper.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he groans, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels, his guts on fire with need.

She squirms under him, and fuck, she feels incredible. After coming twice he can feel the evidence of how wet she is, the smooth glide of her body gripping close around him, giving way slowly. 

It’s suddenly too fucking hot in his room. He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck and around his ears, and it’s vaguely annoying, but he couldn’t give a shit. 

Her warm breath meets his chin, and he follows the line of her attention down the length of his own body, to the place where his hips are flush against hers. Between her parted legs he can see his cock half-sunk inside her, and his face presses to her damp, salty skin as he murmurs to her, pressing forward, enveloped entirely by her.

He has no idea what he’s saying. It just feels important for her to know. 

Whatever it is, he never gets the chance to find out.

Because then she’s kissing him, and her mouth is on his and her lips are parting and they’re soft and her teeth are catching at the dry ege of his lower lip and her breath is hot and it’s hers and it’s in his mouth and it’s in his lungs and it’s oxygenating his fucking blood and pumping through his heart and his brain and searing through every single part of him until she’s all that’s left.

He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

“Holy fuck,” he thinks he’s trying to say, and he feels her smiling, gently biting into his lip, keeping him quiet. 

She rolls her hips up against his, pushing herself off the bed. He can feel himself rapidly losing control as she throws her head back, her brows drawn, teeth cutting into her own lip.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” he pants.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, and of course she doesn’t listen; she never fucking listens to him, rocking up toward him, making him see stars. 

“Just…fuck, hang on.” Cold showers, he thinks, grimly. Freezing cold showers, and depressurised-cockpit earaches. Nine hour-long diplomatic debriefs. The rancid-smelling mucus trail Klaud leaves behind everywhere he goes.

“Is this…not good?” she says, low and weak. “Poe?”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as she whispers his name, and the sound jolts through him—her voice, the one he knows so well—like this, with him.

Whatever pitiful electricity’s still left in the meat of his brain fizzles out. “Oh shit, say my name again,” he begs, not even waiting for her to do so. 

He’s already moving, needing to feel the walls of her cunt stroking and sucking at his cock. “D’you know how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna…” 

He shouldn’t be saying this. He’s gotta be real fucking careful, if he doesn’t want to accidentally tell her every shameful daydream he’s ever had about her and disintegrate what’s left of their friendship into dust. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he tells her instead. “Your pussy is perfect.” 

She recoils, and it’s equal parts adorable and infuriating that even now she’d be embarrassed to hear him say this.

He almost laughs. “Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re sweet, so sweet and tight and—” and fuck, he can still taste her on his lips, and he watches her carefully, finding the place that makes her fall boneless and focusing there, right there, until the viselike grip on his arms weakens and she’s coming again.

Her voice breaks, but he doesn’t slow. She can take it. 

He pushes her hips down, fucking her into the mattress, skin clapping on skin. She’s yanking at his hair hard enough to hurt, but he relishes the pain because it keeps his vision clear; exactly where he wants to be. 

Her orgasm tumbles into another, and he seizes her knees, lifting her toward him as he picks up his pace. She moans, belatedly trying to cover the sound with her hand, and it’s the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He is never, ever going to be able to get that sound out of his head again.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that,” he says, leaning closer, dragging her hand away. “Don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you.” She presses her lips together, and he huffs, driving himself into her just a little harder than strictly necessary.

He’s rewarded with a weak, throaty whimper, and he grins at her. “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he confesses.

Her nipples stand through the thin, sweat-sheer fabric of her tank top, her softness rippling upwards with every stroke. He watches her body greedily, wanting more, wanting everything all at once. 

He wants, very badly, to lick her again, all the way from her neck to her sweet, trembling cunt. He can still taste her on his tongue as he presses his fingers down to her clit, just above the place where he’s still pumping in and out of her.

She cries out, coming again until she’s melting wet into the bed. 

He still doesn’t slow, but his thoughts have run away from him and all of a sudden he realises it’s too late, far too late to stop himself.

He wants her full of his cum, until he’s emptied out all of the ache of himself into her, and her pretty, swollen cunt’s overfull with him until he dribbles out from between her lips and onto his fingers, making a mess of the sheets so he can start all over again.

Right at the precipice of his climax, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. There are tears of overstimulation clinging to her eyelashes, and her fingers are clutching gently at the back of his shirt. 

Nobody has ever laid me down as low as you, he thinks, surprised at the strength of his emotion, willing her to understand.

But then he’s coming so hard his limbs go numb, and he isn’t thinking anything anymore. 

He presses himself deep, deep inside, shaking violently as she swallows every pulse of his orgasm. His heart is thunderous in his ears, his muscles liquefied. He slumps, panting.

If she objects to the deadweight of his body over hers, she doesn’t say anything. He stays there, smothering her, trying to regain his breath, until he can feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath him.

“Was that…okay?” she says, ridiculously, like his soul didn’t just leave his body.

He doesn’t even bother responding to the question. “You’re crazy,” he muses instead. “She’s crazy.”

He’s lifting himself off her when his chain swings from the neck of his shirt, clocking her between the eyes. “Oh, shit,” he says, as she gasps in pain. “Sorry, baby.” He presses his fingers to the spot, feeling guilty. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn't feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

She’s scowling at him, her nose wrinkled up like a Weequay’s, and it’s so fucking cute he wants to kiss her again. “Why didn’t you?” she says.

She needs to ask? “Because it’s you.”

As he crawls back down between her legs, he finds a spectacular mess of cum and sweat and the evidence of her orgasms on the sheets, and fuck, it’s soaking down here. He wonders whether she even realises what she’s done.

He’s disappointed he didn’t get to watch. He’s sure he can get her to do it again, though.

She blinks down at him, her eyes glassy. “What are you doing?”

His mouth waters watching the way her wet skin shines and he feels an answering twitch in his recently-softened cock. “Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Her eyes widen, but whatever she does next, he misses it.

He’s preoccupied.

Just tagging a couple of the lovely people who commented on the original and might be interested in this, absolutely no pressure of course! x

@saradika @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @bacarasbabe @writeforfandoms @hardc0rehaylz @moonlight-prose @lcvenderblues @onfiretakemehigher @littlemousedroid @viceofdionysus @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @ifimayhaveaword @millllenniawrites @liamakorn @lilhawkeye3 @grumpymuffinmama @dailyreverie @mandelirious

[kooruphobic]

IN BED — ragnvindr brothers (seperate, not a pairing)

𓆩♡𓆪 notes : i've been so fucking busy w/ wips lately. i literally have like a bajillion wips im so sorry... dropping an eren fic soon 4 the anon that asked but here's this for now to keep my blog active

𓆩♡𓆪 tags : smut, mentions of praise, teasing, overstimulation, rough sex, temperature play (if you squint)

𓆩♡𓆪 word count : 1.2k

𓆩♡𓆪 summary : how the ragnvindr brothers are in bed/during sex. separate, not a ship or pairing.

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀

we all know kaeya’s a slut like look at him lol

jokes aside, kaeya is so freaky it’s insane. like as soon as you get with this dude, the first time you fuck, you have the time of your life.

kaeya definitely loves praising you. i’ve seen so many people say he’d degrade you. i can kinda imagine it but i think he’s the typa guy to tell you how pretty you are. would one hundred percent call you “pretty girl,” and “mine.”

he loves kissing you. like, you’ll literally make out for hours before you actually fuck. this man is in love with your lips (both of them, yes) and either kisses you really passionately or like there’s no tomorrow and he’ll die if he doesn't kiss you hard enough.

not only that, he loves teasing you too. doesn’t even matter if you’re in public or not. he’ll purposely say suggestive things and ghost his fingers over your skin. some people will give you extreme side glances, but he knows they’re watching.

“let’s give them a little show, huh?” 

when you guys are alone he’ll keep teasing you, but when your clothes are finally off his touch becomes more urgent and needy. why? because the sight of you naked makes him lose his mind. he’ll kiss down your body telling you how pretty you are for him.

let’s just say kaeya loves eating you out. the taste of you on his tongue is intoxicating and he’s obsessed with it.

and if we’re taking elements into consideration here, then think about it. i feel like he could probably make his tongue cold, and he’d replicate the feeling of eating you out with an ice cube in his mouth except there’s no ice cube, just his tongue. 

he’ll literally just eat you out for hours and holds your hand while he does it. sometimes he’ll make you sit on his face. at first, you're fine, but fast forward, and you’re shaking, crying, begging for this man to let you go. kaeya could probably suffocate and die between your legs and he’d die a happy man.

your pleads aren’t really convincing. you sound so pretty and kaeya wants to hear more so he keeps going. when he’s finally done you’re overwhelmed.

or, at least, you think he’s done. but then suddenly you’re on your back and he’s thrusting into you. he’s hitting it from the back and your cries are like music to his ears. this man definitely loves doing it doggy style.

that’s not all though. he’ll lean forward, lips next to your ear, and start moaning from pleasure. kaeya has the sluttiest and loudest moans known to man. he whimpers too. and he knows you love it.

“you like it when i moan into your ear like this?”

and when he cums he’s extra fucking loud. no matter where you’re doing it, even if other people are around to hear kaeya will always be loud when he cums. he sounds so pathetic and whiny when he does and you would make fun of him for it, but by the end you’re so fucked out. 

he loves how you look when he’s done with you. (both) your lips are puffy, your eyes are glossy from crying, and you’re twitching and shaking beneath him. kaeya will never ever get tired of it.

if he cums inside he’ll go the extra mile and lick the cum dripping from your pussy. you try to protest, still feeling sensitive, but your pleads are replaced with whines of pleasure.

when he is truly done, he’ll tell you how good you did for him. if we’re thinking modern au, he’d one hundred percent ask if he can take a picture of your pretty, fucked out face. and then you two will just lay next to each other, breath heavy. and the cycle repeats.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

tbh i think there are two sides to diluc.

he’s either very rough or normal, and on rare occasions, he’ll be soft. 

i think the reason for that is that he acts tough on the outside but is pretty sweet on the inside. so when he meets you he doesn’t know how to act at first, especially during sex. he’d be thinking about whether he should keep up his tough-guy act or not. 

i feel like the first time he’s like…average. average in everything. cause he’s scared of intimacy so he just makes sure he’s doing what needs to be done and gets it over with. but then as your relationship progresses, the next time you do it he decides to put his act down and he’s super soft and vulnerable with you. 

when he’s soft he’s mainly focusing on your pleasure rather than his. diluc likes fingering you rather than eating you out, but it’s okay because this guy is crazily good with his fingers. he’ll curl his fingers inside of you in a way that makes you go dizzy, and he’ll make you cum multiple times on his fingers before actually fucking you. 

one hundred percent talks you through it. he’ll be pushing inside of you, telling you to breathe and relax, to let him take care of you. his thrusts are deep, long, and slow. he’ll do that thing where he slides a hand under your waist and pulls you close to him. and then he whispers how much he loves you. 

definitely kisses your neck. he loves kissing your neck so much. he’ll do it before, during, and after. like it’s actually insane he’s obsessed.

when he’s rough though … you’re really in for it lol

he gets really rough when he’s stressed. doesn’t even bother with foreplay or anything, he just drags you into a room and starts fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. he grabs you by your hips and slams into you without relenting. you try to protest but your pleas fall on deaf ears because he keeps on going.

he’ll grab you by your hair and pull your head up. or if you’re riding him, he’ll plant his hands firmly on your waist and hold you still for a second before slamming up into you. 

i feel like, if he’s being rough with you, it’d mostly happen in his office. he’ll be stressed out of his mind and call you over. then he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you until your legs aren’t functional. 

“take it. fucking take it.”

he’ll kiss you while he does it, but his kisses are super aggressive and when he’s done your lips are bruised. and he’ll definitely bite and suck at your neck, leaving multiple hickeys and marks everywhere. 

poor maids can hear your moans through the walls … when they actually see diluc get mad or stressed they mentally prepare or just leave the winery together. 

diluc makes up for his aggressiveness with proper aftercare though. runs you a bath or something and apologizes profusely lol … then carries you to bed because you’re struggling to walk. this happens like twice a week. rest in peace to you.

𓆩♡𓆪 notes : can u tell which one is my fav lol ... its kaeya. i love kaeya sm. luv diluc 2 but kaeya just does it for me

hope you enjoyed!

[aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen]

Dexiana headcannons (I'm starved for content of them and they're my babies)

The way I screamed when I got this ask. Okokok I have so many thoughts.

-When they started dating, they kept it secret for a while, even from their friends.

-Fitz suspected them for a long time, and eventually he confronted Biana about it, who told him the truth.

-Initially he was wary of it (he’s protective ok it’s understandable ok I don’t hate Fitz ok😭) but he cares about Biana (and Dex probably) so he’s decided to just keep any problems with it to himself.

-(He also figured that if he was supportive of it he could at least regulate it, like the protective brother her is)

-Dex’s family knew for almost the whole time because Biana spends a lot of time at Dex’s house.

-Biana’s family finds out later, and they don’t approve (good luck stopping Biana tho!)

-Dex fidgets with his hands a lot, he’s so used to working on some gadget to keep himself busy, so when he gets fidgety Biana will hold his hand.

-Sometimes Dex will idly trace her scars or draw circles on her palms.

-They’re not really the type of couple who kisses a lot in public or stuff like that, but instead they just always seem to be by each other, sitting next to each other, standing close together etc.

-That sort of more casual stuff is actually a big reason why I ship Dexiana, which might not make a whole lot of sense, but a big part of Dexiana as a ship is it’s not always super obvious, or even inherently romantic. Like I would say Tiana is arguably more obvious in the books, yet Dexiana has actually plagued my mind with most of the canon text being “they smiled at each other” and I sorta love that.

-Their relationship is very Platonic-coded, and that’s because Dex and Biana are best friends first, lovers second.

-They still go on cute romantic dates, but they also just hang out with each other sometimes.

-Dex’s love language is gift giving, so he’s always making gadgets and jewelry for Biana.

-Dex doesn’t sign up for Matchmaking, and Biana plans on not signing up, but Alden and Della pretty much force her to.

-Biana goes through the whole Matchmaking process, and when she does get her scroll she and Dex just giggle over all the elves she matched with.

-Biana also has a Winnowing Gala, but she pulls a Cinderella and ends up running away half way through to meet up with Dex.

-I don’t really have any marriage headcannons, and I can’t decide who would propose either, but if anyone has any thoughts…

-I’m a strong believer that Dex is asexual (and sex repulsed) so in the future I can’t imagine them having kids together (at least biological) but I can imagine them being the fun uncle and aunt.

[rifki16]

Tadaima, Okaeri Episode Ten Recap Analysis

Instant ramen with sausages and kimchi

We finally get some Yuuki's actions. I'm so happy and proud of him. The episode revolved more on his potential relationship with Matsuo-san. However, of course, we still got to see the adorable Hikari, Hinata and Michiru ^^

Yuuki and Matsuo-san’s Relationship and the Perception of Homosexuality in the Omegaverse

The first time we have ever seen Matsuo-san being shipped with Yuuki was in the third episode, if I’m not mistaken, the one where Masaki and Hiromu just mended their relationship with Fujiyoshi-san, Hiromu’s dad, and they spent, what was supposed to be, an afternoon date with Hikari’s Fujiyoshi grandparents. At the end of the episode, after a game of hide and seek during which, Matsuo-san was holding both Hikari and Hinata in his hands, Matsuo-san was complaining that he hurt his arms and Yuuki was trying to lightly massage his back. Hiromu took a picture of Yuuki’s act of kindness, and in the post-credit scene, he sent it to Matsuo-san. While standing and waiting for Yuuki to grab the menu of the burger chain, Matsuo-san was thinking about Hiromu’s, and his father – Fujiyoshi-san, act of shipping him with Yuuki.

Fast forward to this episode, we saw how rambunctious the twin younger brothers of Matsuo-san can be. They cornered Yuuki, during the middle of the episode, I suppose in-between the playdate that they were supposed to participate in with Hikari and Hinata. They then asked him, “How far have you gone with our brother?”. Yuuki of course answered it in the literal sense. Side Note, I think I have seen the joke used in a live-action BL, I think it was My Love Mix-up. Anyway, he then kept on pestering Yuuki with questions about his relationship with their older brother. They said that his brother usually dates girls, however, as their brother has not been dating for a while, their dad has now been pinning his hope of Matsuo-san’s marriage with this “Yuuki” that their older brother kept mentioning about.

Yuuki then somehow puzzled with the statements and questions from Shuuto and Yuuto. He had this face like the thought of dating Matsuo-san never really crossed his mind. He then reminded the twin younger brothers of Matsuo-san that a). he’s a man, and b). he’s usually the one getting protected.

I don’t know whether the second point that Yuuki said was a mistranslation or what. The context was: the twins said that their brother was the “doting and protective” kind of lover, Yuuki tried to deny the allegation that he’s dating their older brother by saying that he’s the one who usually gets protected, doesn’t that just fit the kind of lover that Matsuo-san usually seek? Anyway, I still don’t understand how him bringing up the two points can refute the allegation that the twins levied against him.

That brought me to a second point about this scene, why would Yuuki’s gender matter in Matsuo-san’s decision-making matrixes as to whether date Yuuki or not? Aren’t people in the Omegaverse used to seeing same-sex relationship? My comprehension is that the people in said universe just detest different secondary sex identifiers to mate. I don’t think there’s an inherent homophobia in the way that the scene was played out. It seems just like the case of Yuuki being oblivious and not seeing himself as a potential partner to Matsuo-san, despite being the number one cheerleader for Masaki and Hiromu. Is it that maybe same-sex relationship is still quite rare in the Omegaverse which made Yuuki confused?

Or is Yuuki’s confusion and self-exclusion caused by Shuuto and Yuuto’s earlier statement when one of them said that their older brother usually date women? And hence, Yuuki simply cannot see himself as one of the lover contenders in Matsuo-san’s life.

My analysis aside, during this confrontation, he was thinking his way out of the questions that the twins kept giving to him. He assured them that he is not Matsuo-san’s lover, yet, he said to himself that calling their relationship as “acquittances” was not right because they are too close and intimate to just be acquittances. He also added that he couldn’t just be a friend to Matsuo-san, because he felt like he was closer than just being a friend to him. He then reiterated to the twins that he’s not the “clingy” type to his friends – something that he always does to Matsuo-san. The twins then asked, something to the effect of, “then, why are you [clingy with him]?”.

Matsuo-san then interjected the confrontation. The twins scuttled along and left Matsuo-san and Yuuki in the foyer, I think it’s the foyer of the house, I’ve never had a house that big. Upon reflection from the questions that the twins gave to Yuuki, he then asked Matsuo-san, “are you dating anyone?”. Matsuo-san then answered that he is not, and he added that he wouldn’t be spending too much time with Yuuki if he had been. Yup, you guess right, the misinterpretation then came within Yuuki’s mind that he had been selfishly hogging all of Matsuo-san’s time because he thought that maybe if he hadn’t spent his time with Matsuo-san, Matsu-san would already have a girlfriend at some point.

We then saw the playdate continued. Hikari was playing Trick or Treat with the guests; Hikari played the candy giver not the receiver. When he came to Yuuki, he then said, “give the candy to someone that you love”. Yuuki immediately gave his candy to Matsuo-san. After that, Hiromu gave his to Masaki. Seeing what Hiromu did with his candy then made Yuuki a little bit self-conscious, as he just was confronted as to whether he liked Matsuo-san. Linguistic side note, in Japanese, as I have written before, the word “sukida” or like is more often used in expressing romantic love rather than the word “ai”. Yuuki then regretted his action because he thought it was just plain, platonic love, I suppose.

Matsuo-san then drove the twins to the train station to send them home, however before departing the Fujiyoshi house, he insisted that Hiromu got in the car. On the way to the train station, Matsuo-san then harangued the three guys not to pressure Yuuki to fall for him. Matsuo-san admitted to the three guys that Yuuki is clingy to him, however, he deemed that Yuuki is too young for him.

Side note, this was also brought to my attention on Twitter several weeks ago. Someone replied to me on my tweet about shipping Yuuki and Matsuo-san, that Matsuo-san is too old for Yuuki. I replied to them that they might not be that far apart as Matsuo-san might be late 30s, and Yuuki is early 20s, so like 10 years apart at wost right? Is that too far? I mean, many straight Hollywood actors/any midwestern or southern cis straight men always date a much much younger woman, this one is a decade apart, by the worst projection.

I understand the toxic power imbalance that older – younger couple combination might have, be it because financial reasons or any social capital the older significant other might have. The task of the anime is then detailing more how Matsuo-san and Yuuki can solve this adversity of their relationship.

When Yuuki was alone with Masaki, Hikari and Hinata at the Fujiyoshi house, Yuuki clarified about the whole candy sharing incident with Masaki and said that he was thinking of other kind of love. However, Masaki told Yuuki that what made him happy was the fact that he instinctively wanted to give the candy to Hiromu, just like that, without thinking that deeply to it.

Yuuki then told Masaki about how he intended to put more distance between him and Matsuo-san. He said that he didn’t want to be an imposition to Matsuo-san, to be a hurdle for him in getting a girlfriend. Masaki then replied and said that he didn’t see it, his whole relationship with Matsuo-san, the way Yuuki recounted it to him. The reason that Masaki said his reply was because of Matsuo-san’s face after Yuuki gave the candy to him. He probably saw the absence from the expression of annoyance from Matsuo-san. Masaki then added, “I guess you see it all the time”.

Yuuki seemed to be confused by the reply. He then needed to spend the night at Fujiyoshi’s, along with Matsuo-san, because he got drunk after drinking the wine from the twins. As he was getting a cup of water at the ground floor, he saw that Masaki and Hiromu were getting it on. He then realized what “face”, or a more appropriate translation seems to be “expression”, that Masaki referred to in their conversation before.

After getting back to his room at the first floor, he saw that Matsuo-san got woken up because he needed to get a glass of water. He then asked Matsuo-san to sleep next to him in the bed after telling Matsuo-san not to get a glass of water downstairs.

I’m just very happy that the anime evaded the really unnecessary plotlines of misunderstanding between Yuuki and Matsuo-san; the whole “I need to quit seeing you so that you can find a girlfriend” plot line is very tiring in Japanese BL shows.

This is already too long of a recap review. I just want to talk a little bit about Hikari and Michiru’s friendship. I think the anime was really good in portraying a good male friendship, even the twins also acknowledged that. I think even CollegeHumor already made a skit about how most of cis-male friendship is nothing more but abuse and bullying.

You all really need to watch the episode, it’s so good in portraying Yuuki’s development.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

well it's love, make it hurt - bonus chapter: prologue/meet-cute

well it's love, make it hurt series

bonus prologue: this won't mean a thing come tomorrow

series masterlist

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Words: 3.4k

Summary: How you met the Mandalorian: a prologue to the "well it's love, make it hurt" series.

Warnings: bounty hunting, canon-typical violence, use of needles, drugging bounties, dom!Din if you squint, vaginal sex, flirting

also on ao3

2 ABY - Winter

The Mandalorian is a wonder to behold. No, really, you're in awe. Sure, you’ve heard tales, as most have, but to see one in action was another thing.

Of course, all his effort is for nothing, but you certainly aren’t going to be the one to tell him that. (Okay, you probably are, just not in so many words).

You hadn’t planned it. You didn’t even know anyone else had the puck. It was just fortuitous timing that he arrived moments before you at the underground club where Tania Dallo was holding court with her cronies.

You had a plan for getting her alone, but the Mandalorian is saving you the trouble. You're about to enter the staff door when he shows up, slinging blasters and explosives, causing a beautiful ruckus.

It meant more than half of the muscle went topside to fight while you slipped into the den with no issue.

Dallo’s hold is about what you expected from a spice lord who had taken out too much product on loan. The credits she owed were here in decadent furniture, top-shelf alcohol, and other shiny prizes.

“Not now, idiot girl,” she snaps at you when you come in the door, dressed in the sultry outfit of the club’s servers and carrying a tray of drinks. Her blaster is raised and pointed at the main entrance, but she turns it to you.

“Ma’am,” you say in your shyest voice. “Come with me. I can get you out the back before the Mandalorian makes it down here.”

Dallo knows she's cornered in the den, and though guards are posted at the main door, the only other exit is the servant’s halls. The room is designed for entertaining VIPs and has its own entrance for the staff so they can quietly attend to the guests.

“Fine, hurry up,” she snaps.

If you were a worse hunter, you’d have smirked. Years had taught you how to school your face and swallow down the ego, though.

Even with her blaster at your back, you feel confident trailing the winding halls and leading her to the hidden door nearest your speeder. As soon as she climbs out of the grate behind you, you gasp and pull back against the side of the building. She copies you, eyes wide and darting, blaster aimed into the street.

She's unconscious before she can even register the prick of the needle in her neck. You catch her body as she falls and drag her down the alley to shove her into the passenger seat of the landspeeder.

As you leave, something hits the side of the tail, and you don’t need to look to know the Mandalorian has caught up with you. He's resorted to shooting at your speeder, but given that Dallo is only wanted alive, there isn't much else he can risk.

Walking straight into the shipyard is a dangerous move, but you thought it wiser not to make him feel hunted. Instead, you stick to the lighted path, hands out and empty where he can see them.

It doesn’t stop him from stalking you, though. You had hoped maybe it would be a more open confrontation, but that hope fizzles when he slams you hard against the side of a ship, pinning you there with the force of his upper body.

“You stole my bounty,” he snarls.

“Well,” you pause and shake your head. You had hit it fairly hard against the vessel and were a little woozy. “Technically, no. But I did come here to give you a cut, which you’d know if you had given me a chance to speak—”

“You seem to be speaking fine right now.”

You roll your eyes, though you suspect it’s less effective with your cheek smushed against the durasteel. He does have you quite trapped. He’s objectively stronger than you, even without the armor.

Not that it matters. You’re still probably capable of escaping if you need to. Not that you want to, not yet.

Because you don’t feel there’s truly a danger, you’re lax enough to appreciate his bulk and the gruff voice that crackles from the helmet. It’s too bad; he might have been a fun time.

“So, are you going to let me go? I’m guild; I haven’t broken any rules—you can’t take any retribution.”

The resulting vitriol is hilarious with how he releases his hold on you and steps back. You consider laughing but think maybe it’d be pushing his self-control.

Instead, you back up a few paces and reach into a pouch on your waist.

“I have a proposition,” you say and flick him the credits.

He catches them easily and looks up slowly from his glove to your face. It’s funny, you think, he’s got no face, but you know exactly what that look meant.

“This is less than a fourth of my payout.”

“And you did less than a fourth of the work, so.” You shrug, an exaggerated gesture with both hands turned to the stars.

The modulator turns his frustration into something akin to a growl.

You hold one hand up in faux supplication. “Ah, ah, hear me out first. I’ll give you more than that, plus a cut of my next bounty.”

“You want me to do all the work on that one, too?”

“Nope. Just need a ride.”

When you had dropped Dallo off, the client had requested you for another bounty. A big troublemaker had snuck off on one of the casino ships and was halfway to the next port on Kijimi. You had worked for this particular client many times over and were afraid to lose the long-term security.

So you accepted—without a ship or the vaguest idea of how you’d get to Kijimi before the cruiser docked.

“You’re joking. You think I’m going to help you?”

“I just need a quick ride to Kijimi and back. No other effort on your part. I’ll give you fifty percent of the 12,000 credits.”

He turns it over in his head. “What makes you think I won’t just take the bounty and leave you on Kijimi?”

“I thought Mandalorians are known for their honor. Unless you stole that bucket from someone else?”

His gloves creak as he involuntarily balls a fist with his empty hand.

“Or not, okay,” you say and turn on your heel to leave, praying to the stars that he stops you because you do NOT have a plan B.

“Fine. I’ll do it. For seventy percent.”

“Absolutely not. Sixty.”

“Fine. If you’re not back here in an hour, I’m leaving.”

“Deal.” You smirk once you’re out of his sight and in your speeder. He could have his sixty percent of the 12,000, and you’d keep the other 4,000 your own little secret.

You get back to the shipyard in 39 minutes and knock on the ramp, but he takes his sweet time and makes you wait until the full hour is up before he lets you in. You kind of hate him, you think, but you’re also even more sure he might be a good time, if only because he seems like he’d be rough with it.

Too bad you’re working. You don’t fuck around on the job.

The ship is… well, it’s old as shit, but it’s a thing of beauty. Beat to hell, but clearly loved and cared for. The interior is sparse but neat. Necessities only; a place for everything and everything in its place. It makes sense, you suppose, for a culture of soldiers.

It’s also clean, which is a huge relief. A lot of the other hunters are less than hygienic. Not that you’ve ever gotten on a stranger’s ship before, but this kind of money might mean you could eat plenty, stock up on weaponry, and replace your ragged boots. A literal fortune.

Life-changing kind of money, at least for a while.

You climb up a ladder to the cockpit, where he’s already in the pilot’s seat, punching in calculations for the nav.

“Let me guess,” you say, slinging your pack down and settling in the copilot chair. “You don’t have an astromech because you’re afraid of the droid uprising or something like that.”

“Yep,” he says, thick sarcasm oozing through the modulator. “Something like that.”

You buckle in and wait until he’s done with the math that will be the difference between life and death before filling him in on the bare details.

“Think we’ll get there in time?” you ask when you’re done.

“Yep,” he says again.

Once it’s safe, you unfasten the safety restraints and settle into the chair with your feet tucked under you. You pull out your datapad and a thermos of caf.

“No,” he says. “No drinks by the controls.”

You’ve got to be kriffing kidding, you think. This is what you get for appreciating the cleanliness. There hadn’t appeared to be any seating down in the hull, so you screw the lid back on the thermos and store it away.

It’s not a long trip, but it is painfully silent. Luckily, after a very awkward twenty minutes where he sat still in his seat, he stood abruptly and climbed down the ladder. You spent the rest of the six-hour flight growing progressively hungrier and restless.

Down in the hull, he putters around, cleaning his weapons and listening to ensure you aren’t touching anything. He doesn’t do this. Doesn’t give rides to strange hunters or let other people on his ship.

But it was a good deal. Too good, really. He was prepared for you to try to cheat him out of the money, but if you were good on your word, it would be a nice extra lump sum to send home. He might even keep a little and fix the rattling pipe in the fresher.

And unfortunately, his fury at your little stunt with Dallo had left him frustrated in more than one way. It didn’t help that you were so competent. The way you handled the whole op, the way you stared him down and negotiated without fear.

But his dick didn’t rule his life, so he pushed it aside and focused on completing this mission as quickly as possible.

You insist he goes with you. “Again, you don’t need to do anything. I just don’t trust you not to leave me here.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I get paid,” he reassures, which, fair.

You’re in a shimmering dress with moderate coverage to blend in with the other casino-goers. He is, you tell him, your bodyguard.

“Why would you need a bodyguard?”

“They won’t ask. All they know is that it means I have money.”

The ship is docking when you arrive. The port is another strip of casinos, each more opulent and exotic than the rest, vying for the endless pockets of the passengers.

You wait. Longer than you’d like, but the bounty doesn’t exit the ship.

“Dank farrik,” you hiss. “Okay, we’re going on board. Just go along with whatever I say.”

“You can’t possibly think you’re going to walk right on.”

“Just go along with whatever I say, okay?”

He sighs but follows as you lead him up the gangway, stopping at the check-in station, where a tired concierge holds out his white-gloved hand.

“Keycards, please.” He barely spares either of you a glance.

You turn to look at Mando, eyebrow raised.

“What?” he says.

“The keycards,” you say.

“I don’t—”

“Daddy said,” your voice is somehow low and dangerous while reaching a fever pitch, “that he gave you the keycards.”

“He—”

“Are you calling my daddy a liar?” You cross your arms. “Because if I have to call him and tell him you got me stranded, you’re going to be so fired. He’ll leave you to rot in this skughole.”

“Look,” the Mandalorian says suddenly to the concierge, who has been obviously enjoying the drama. “Help me out here.”

“I really can’t—”

“What’ll it take to make it worth your while?” he says, shifting his hand to his blaster.

You swat at his arm. “Stop that.” The concierge looks relieved, and you turn a pout at him and lean in to whisper something, setting a soft hand on his shoulder to get close to his ear.

The young man faints a moment later.

You shriek, but Mando doesn’t miss the way you brush your other hand against the bracelet, retracting the spring-loaded syringe. He grows hot under the helmet.

You’re yelling for help, and it causes a fair commotion, during which you grab the Mandalorian’s hand and slip into the ship.

“That was—” he starts to compliment you, but you shush him and duck around a corner. You use the concierge’s keycard to open a crew door and scan into a computer system. He’s a little stunned. He caught on to your trick with the needle, but he did not see you snag the card.

It’s not like he’s never met a competent hunter before. But a lot of them are competent in killing or seducing—not that he doesn’t use those techniques also—but the sleight of hand is something he’s never really mastered. Probably because he never tried very hard. Didn’t need to.

Maybe he’d been too blasé, because he was having fun.

You locate the bounty’s room number and let yourself in. The man is lounging in a robe on the plush bed with what looks to be the last third of a bottle of spotchka.

He jumps up when you enter. Mando closes the door and leans casually in front of the control panel.

You have a blaster in your hand, low and casual but pointed at the bounty. “Don’t yell, honey. You’ll just make him mad.” You jerk your head toward the Mandalorian.

The bounty sputters, backing up toward the porthole and the escape pod hatch near it.

“C’mon, we both know I’ll shoot before you make it in.”

“Aren’t I worth more alive?”

“Worth more with your corpse than empty-handed,” you say. “Plus, honey, I ain’t guild. How this goes down doesn’t matter to me at all.”

The quarry pales, but he stops moving toward the pod. “Look, if you’re not guild… I can pay. More than whatever they offered.”

“If that’s true, then why d’you have a bounty?”

“I don’t know, I swear! Look, just let me make a withdrawal in the city. I can get you the credits, and we can both walk away from this for the better.”

You holster your blaster. “Fine, but we do this my way.”

Your way turns out to be holding hands with the bounty, batting your lashes and flashing shy smiles while you hiss detailed threats disguised as sweet nothings. Mando follows behind. Outside the ship is clear, medics have taken away the concierge. He’ll have to remember to find out if you killed him or not.

He doesn’t have to ask. You see him glance at the place the body had been, and you shake your head, mouthing, “he’ll be fine.”

The bounty doesn’t realize anything is amiss until you pass by one of the credit transfer machines and continue toward the docking bay. By that time, you’ve got a blaster pressed against his side.

The idiot still tries to run. You swear and nearly get a shot on him, except you’re only aiming for his feet. Mando snaps out the whipcord and catches him by the ankle, dragging him over. You fit him with binders and shake your head.

You go to grab him by the binders, but the Mandalorian must be done with the games as he heaves the bounty up and tosses him over one shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, and you follow him back to the ship.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand to look at him. The bounty is in the handy carbonite chamber, which is a definite plus in your book toward getting a ship (even if the slabs were a little unsettling). “Six-hour ride home… got anything fun to do on your ship, Mandalorian?” The pink tip of your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

He’s open in his appraisal of your body, clocking the way your thighs are pressed together and your pupils are wide and hungry. “Not for spoiled brats,” he says.

You laugh. “You didn’t like that act?”

“No, but I like how it turned out.”

You decide you’re not reading him wrong, so you get up and stretch, giving him both a chance to stop you and a peek at how your nipples are hard under the thin fabric of the dress.

When he spreads his legs wider and leans back, you grin.

“Got other clothes in your bag?” he asks once you’ve climbed onto his lap, hiking the dress up enough to fit yourself over him.

“Yeah,” you say, brow furrowing.

“Good.” And then he tears it at the seam until it flutters down out of his way, gloved hands already helping themselves to your breasts.

You moan, head falling back as he gropes at you, rubbing the rough tips of his gloves over your nipples.

“Helmet stays on,” he says as you grind down on him.

“Copy that,” you say, bringing your hands to his biceps for leverage.

He lets you grind against his clothed cock, feeling it throb against the flightsuit while he toys with your tits until he grows bored, wanting your cunt around him.

“Lean back,” he says, one hand around your hips to keep you steady. He pushes one finger, still gloved, between your lips and strokes it over your clit. You jerk forward and cry out. He likes the sound, so he does it again and again until you fall apart.

“C’mon,” you whine, “fuck me.”

“We have five and a half more hours. Be patient.”

He slips the finger between your folds, pressing up up up until he’s in you to the last knuckle. You’re pushing down against him, trying desperately to get yourself off, so he adds two more at once. You’re so tight around his fingers, clamping down while you cry out, swearing.

“Good girl. See what happens when you wait?”

He does not miss the way you cum again right after he speaks.

When he finally reaches down to pull his cock out, you sigh in relief. You thought you might have died if he waited much longer. And stars, was it worth the wait. It’s big, not impossibly so, but thick and gorgeous. Your mouth waters, but there’s no time for that. You have to have him in you now.

You lift enough to settle back over the head, the weeping tip rubbing against you as you try to sink down.

He shakes his head, and you pause. “What did I just say? Patience.”

With his cock in one hand, he rubs it against your clit, teasing it around the wet rim of your pussy.

You whine.

“What?” he says, voice sly but infuriatingly calm.

You narrow your eyes and grab his cock, fingers around his fingers, and sink down quickly until the tip is fully immersed.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, murmuring little soft gasps as he uses his hands on your hips to pull you down.

He’s straining to hold back. “Fuck, you’ve got a nice cunt,” he says between pants for breath.

You moan again, leaning forward to bury your face in his cowl and push down the rest of the way until he’s fully seated within you.

He tries to give you a moment, but you roll your hips with increasing urgency, so he grips you tight and pounds up into you. His fingers find your clit, the rough gloves bringing you quickly to another climax.

He tries for another, but you wriggle, whining as the raw, overstimulated nerve throbs in protest. When he cums, he pulls out and spills onto your stomach and the remains of the dress.

You insist on dropping off the bounty alone. The client won’t like a stranger, you say. He waits outside, tense and touchy, half-expecting you to sneak out a window and run off with the money.

But you don’t. You come out, pleased and satiated grin on your face, and had him a pouch of credits.

“That went well, don’t you think?” you say, shielding your eyes from the sun with one hand to peer up at his visor.

“I suppose it did.”

You hold up two more pucks. “Want to try it again?”

*title from "Great Romances of the 20th Century" by Taking Back Sunday (and yes, I think I'm funny about it)