Summary: After being stressed with your latest homicide case, how will your husband, Flip, help relieve some of this stress? (word count 2K)
An: I found this fic in the archives of my old computer from 2021. I wrote this four years ago, before I even started writing fan fiction and started this blog. I know it's not my usual content, but I just had to share it.
Warnings: Smut (like a lot, I did not hold back on this), Oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation, breading, dirty talk, thigh riding, mentions of death (reader is a homicide detective), reader has a bit of a mini breakdown due to the stress of the case
This past week has been hell. The new case I got assigned at work made me sick, not being able to sleep for days. The images that lay in front of me haunted my dreams. I knew what I was getting myself into; being a homicide detective was definitely a difficult job, to say the least. Despite my specialty being homicide, I would get the occasional cold case or missing persons case. It was always hard when the cases involved children; this one made me sick. This case was about a young girl who had been kidnapped and murdered in a forest. This case just hit differently; the whole thing made me sick. The past week has been stressful. Every night this week, I've found myself up till 2 am working at my desk, needing to finish this case ASAP. Since I was the head of the division, it only made sense that I would have to take this brutal one on myself. In times like these, I really wanted to quit, but the big fat paycheck I received every year told a different story.
“This poor little girl, she was just a child. How could you do something like this?” I said, talking to myself.
Just then, I felt a cold pair of hands on my shoulders. “What are you doing, Flip?” I asked.
“You're stressed,” Flip said calmly.
Just then, he started to rub my shoulders and neck, giving me a massage. A faint moan escaped my lips.
Flip let out a small chuckle.
Flip, my amazing husband must have come into the room while I was lost in thought. I tried to tell him to stop and that I had to finish this case. He didn’t listen; he just kept massaging me. He knew how bad this case was bothering me. We had actually met years ago at work, since he is an undercover policeman. He knew he case just as well as I did.
“Just come to bed love, you need some rest” Flip said in a soothing tone.
I was too tired to argue, so I caved and followed him into the bedroom. Once we entered, I was shocked. There were candles lit, and a glass of my favourite wine sat on the nightstand. He just looked at me with that devilish smirk that I loved. “You know the best way to de-stress is sex, right?” I looked at him like he was crazy, but I knew he was right. I needed this, I needed him. Flip grabbed me by my waist and gently placed me on the king-sized bed. He slowly and gently removed all of my clothes until I was naked, exposed and cold. My nipples turned hard due to my sudden arousal. The cool air around me sent chills up my spine as Flip slowly crawled on top of me, like he was an animal waiting to catch his prey. Without hesitation, Flip put one of my breasts in his mouth and sucked on my nipple. I couldn't help the moan that escaped my lips.
Flip left a trail of kisses from my neck all the way down to my ankles. Just then, I found him between my thighs. He teased my entrance, leaving kitten licks between my folds. “Flip, stop teasing me.” I whined, “Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” He said as he placed kisses on my inner thighs before inserting two fingers inside of me. Pumping into me slowly, his lips found my clit. Sucking on it roughly as he inserted a third finger into me, curling them inside as his rhythm quickened.
I was a mess, a variety of curses leaving my mouth as he continued to eat me out as if it was his last meal. I pulled his hair as I could feel the familiar pit in my stomach start to grow. Just then, I was surprisingly greeted by a fourth finger, stretching me out.
“I can’t hold on any longer, baby, I'm going to cum.” I was a mess
All he did was laugh at me, the vibrations sending a vibration up my core which made me lose it. I came hard, legs closing around his head as continued his assault on my pussy throughout my orgasm. He licked up every ounce of warmth that spilled from between my thighs.
He kissed my lips, tasting myself on his tongue. I helped him remove his clothing, I undid the buckle on his belt with trembling hands and a shaky breath. It had been so long. I had been torturing myself for weeks without realizing it. It wasn’t long before we were both naked, our bodies tangled in a sticky, hot mess. Flip knew me so well; he always knew what I needed or how I was feeling, even before I did. This time was no different.
The kisses we shared became less rough and messy. I could feel his calloused fingers run up and down my spine. “I need you to breathe baby” he whispered into my skin. “It’s okay, you’re okay”. Confused by his words, I met his gaze and could see the concern in his eyes. He placed a delicate kiss on my forehead as I felt the pad of his thumb rub against my cheek. My mind went blank, I felt vulnerable and confused. He could sense my breakdown before I could even process one. He removed his body from mine, moving the pillows before he carefully picked me up with ease. Holding my body close to his, cradling me in his arms like an enfant. That was when I broke. A choked sob left my lips as I recalled everything I had seen over the past week.
“She was just a child” Flip knew how horrid the case had been. He was one of the officers that had been called to the scene. The photos I’d seen in my file were images he had seen with his own two eyes. “I hate this stupid town, I want to leave and never come back” I felt Flip take my right hand that had unintentionally moved towards my stomach. “Don’t start,” he carefully warned. “I promise that we will get out of here. I’m gonna give you the world. Give you the family you deserve but it takes time, angel. You gotta stop being so hard on yourself, It’s gonna happen” Maybe the reason why I always gave too much of myself for cases like these was because I’d become so desperate to have a child of my own. “Now baby, no more sad tears. The only tears I was planning on seeing tonight were ones of pleasure. Let me make you feel good. Make you forget” I could feel the shiver that went up my spine. “Gonna make you cum over and over again until you’re begging me to stop” I could feel my core aching at his words. “Look at this pretty little pussy. God, she’s just so sweet” Flip brought his hand back between his legs. He took two fingers and ran them up and down my folds. “God, you’re soaked” his voice trembled ever so slightly. “What am I gonna do to you, humm? How should I make you cum? I could make you cum again all over my face. I could pick you up and slam you down on my cock or I could throw them pretty legs on my shoulders and fuck you like a real man.” He loved the way he could make me come undone with only his words. “Tonight I’m not makin’ love, tonight is all about fucking and I ain’t stoppin until you’re pregnant”
I had lost count of how many times I had come. It was too much and not enough at the same time. I was dying to feel him inside of me. The grip on my hips was firm as he held me on his thigh. He guided my hips back and forth as I rode his thigh. My clit was raw and sore, my head was pounding. “You’re doing so good for me,” Flip praised. I could feel my thighs beginning to tremble, my body threatening to fall forward if it wasn’t for Flip holding me up. All I could do was choke out an “I can’t” to which he soothingly replied, “Yes, you can, just one more, then you can get my cock.” I couldn’t help the wine that fell from my lips. I’d been dying to feel him inside me. Flip praised my body, telling me how beautiful I looked on top of him. He brought his lips to my breasts, kissing them gently before pinching the bud between his teeth. “So beautiful, so fucking perfect.” Just then, I felt his grip tighten; he began to bounce me on his thigh, pulling me down hard each time. “Come for me, baby, I need to fucking feel you. Make a big old mess on me,” I was convinced I would get rug burn from how hard he was rubbing me against his large thighs. A hand on my raw clit brought me over the edge once again, and I was left seeing stars. Pulsating over nothing as my hole ached to be filled.
Flip was gentile, carefully placing me on my back. He gave me a moment to breathe, to compose myself, before he finally gave me what I wanted. My breath got caught in my throat as he slowly sunk into me, placing kisses on my skin as he went inch by inch. Our bodies were meant for each other, souls connected as the room filled with sounds of love.
My orgasm came unannounced, washing over me without warning. Back arched, toes curled as I had the hardest orgasm of my life. Flip’s followed not long after, his warmth between me finally giving me the satisfaction I needed.
sending a little commander mills thot 💖 stopping for the night in a dark, deep cave. sharing a bed roll quickly turning into something more, as you end up on your hands and knees beneath him. there’s a rattle of stones near the entrance and his large hand is pressing over your mouth to keep you quiet - his senses on high alert for danger. but even then, mills can’t help the shallow rock of his hips - unable to resist how good you feel
warning signs
pairing: commander mills x (f)reader
word count: 1.1k+
contents: unprotected p in v, creampie, small amount of dirty talk, i didn't classify what planet they were on but threats are occurring, slight enemies to lovers, rough.
note: i'd let this man have his way with me in an open warzone and i have no shame about it because this idea has me insane.
You should have known.
You should have known this planet would be nothing but a bad omen when you had to emergency land on it. When you lost contact, your ship deciding to stop working properly. When the only way of getting out a signal was to rig the system built within the interface of the hunk of metal. Ultimately destroying any chance of getting out of here on it but allowing you to get out a weakened signal, you hoped your home planet would come and swiftly send someone to you before this planet showed just why it was inhabitable by those who walked on two legs and didn’t prefer the taste of game.
You should have known that Mills would be the worst person to crash land with.
Should have known he’d only raise your blood pressure and have a permanent scowl curve your brows until it gave you a headache.
And you really should have known that he’d be this big.
His stature alone suggesting that was more to him than broad deltoids beneath those clothes. More than just deadpan looks and side eyes of scolds and warnings behind those iris’s. Behind the moments and trips the two of you have taken together over the years.
You should have known that his cock would stretch you like this. Making your insides burn when he thrusts inside of you. Your walls accommodating something that’s bringing you pleasure at the same time it has you mewling in pain—something big and hot and heady that’s making your fingers dig into the dirt.
Your back arched at an angle that has your body scraping forward against the ground every time Mills snaps his hips against your ass. His cock going deeper and deeper—the tip hitting that spot inside of you that makes your body want to run from him, want to escape the pleasure and the sting of him going past what your bodies used to—his nails digging into your hips. Moonshaped marks embossed in your skin as he holds your ass in place. As he refuses to let you squirm away from him.
Because you wanted this, didn’t you?
“You’ve been begging for it.” He says with a heavy breath. A groan mixed somewhere in there, you’re sure of it but can’t decipher it fully with how you sound. How the back of your hand is covered in your own drool and bite marks from trying to muffle the moans and whines coming from your mouth.
There’s a rock under your knee that has left an imprint into your bone, has cut the skin with how your body is moving. If you focus on it hard enough, you may even feel a trickle of blood. Or the indents of stone and caked on dirt on your elbows.
But all you can feel—all you can hear, sense, smell—is Mills and what he’s doing to you. What he’s doing to your body and how you never want him to stop. Never want to go back to the time when the two of you pretended there was nothing there.
The thrusting of his hips imprinted on your nerve endings, and you can’t imagine a time, a moment, or a place where you don’t want him to bend you over something and take you. Have you.
“Who knew all you needed was my cock to have you so compliant.” Mills grabs the back of your neck. His grip just as rough and embossed as the fingers at your hips. The weight of his chest drapes over you in a way that has you pushed further into the ground and your ass higher in the air, shoving his cock to the hilt, a cry falling from your lips. His name coated in a pleading whimper.
“Next time you’re not listening to me, all I’ll have to do is fuck you, huh? Bend you over and fuck you until you’re ready to admit who’s in charge here.”
There’s some part of your psyche that wants to fight against this. That wants to throw his words back in his face with something snide and angry, but you’re fucking pudy between his fingers, and he’s molding you into a perfect compliant hole for him.
Into someone who wants to follow his orders just as long as they get his cock in return.
But you still open your mouth to try to tell him just as much. To ask him to fuck you harder or agree with him, you’re not sure because it dies in your throat.
The words fall to the pit of your stomach as the both of you stop in place as your body feels the soft rumble of something moving outside of the cave. The rustling of trees, rocks, and branches being stepped on.
“Mills,” you murmur his name. Soft enough for him to hear but apparently too loud for his liking as he shushes you. His hot breath against your ear, his hands maneuvering your legs so they’re underneath him now as he lays on top of you. The massive width of his chest makes you feel engulfed in him.
His hair against your cheek, his breath held in his lungs just like your own.
You try to listen. Try to hear anything approaching, growing closer to your indisposed state. The two of you not in a position to move as quickly as you should to protect yourselves. Mills not seeming to be as on edge as you are, the faith he has in himself to grab his gun quickly enough if whatever is outside moves in closer, is almost aggravating.
Your mouth parts to tell him this, to push him off of you so the both of you won’t die while he’s still hard inside of you.
But instead of an argument, a gasp falls from your lips as you feel Mills rock his hips against you. The tip of his cock pulled back to your entrance only to be thrust back in slow, and agonizingly sharp all in one quick rock.
“Mi-” his palm presses against your mouth, silencing you.
“Shhh,” he whispers against your ear. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been needing this, to fuck you.” His heavy breath and the deep timber of his tone as he tries to keep quiet, as he speaks the words for only you to hear, to know, and to feel, wash over your spine and lay achinly between your thighs where the shallow rock of his hips against your ass has your nailbeds housing rockbed as you try not to become a sobbing mess behind his hand. “You feel s’fucking good.”
And if the two of you were to die like this; with Mills rutting against you, his cock stretching you, his deep breaths and praises against your ear, your slick coating his length as you come, and his come leaking from you—leaving your pussy a warm and sticky mess as he continues to thrust inside of you even after the fact, as if he’s trying to keep all he can inside of you—then so be it.
Notes: Hi! I know I haven't written for the ADCU in some time but i have this dad!clyde brainrot and i might as well post it. part 2 is 90% done so I’ll post that sometime soon
I miss being here & I hope everyone is doing well, sending all of you lots of love & thank you for taking time out of your day to read my silly little stories, i appreciate you <3
Warnings: protective girl dad!Clyde, talk about kids, mention of abandonment issues, mother not involved (and will not appear at any point), no mention of y/n, fluff, pining, pervy thoughts from sasquatch, eventual smut in second part (tags will be added), no cliffhanger
Word Count: 7.1K
(this will go back & forth between Clyde's POV & readers POV)
The bar was filled with scattered conversations and the faint sound of jukebox music lingering in the background. It was an otherwise quiet Thursday night at Duck Tape. Clyde busied himself as usual, topping off the regulars and ensuring everyone was settled and satisfied. The calm before the storm, at least until the real crowd rushed in to watch the Friday night game. Being the only bar in a small town meant there was little else to do around here. Clyde never seemed to mind, though; catching familiar faces day in and day out was one of his favorite parts of owning Duck Tape in the first place. Regulars usually required minimal conversation, which was right up Clyde's alley. The most words anyone got out of him other than his siblings was Earl, but he didn't mind. Clyde quickly finished his last prep of the day and glanced around the bar, taking advantage of the slow pace and stepping away into the recluse of his office. He huffed as he shut the door behind him and sank into his lanky chair; a never-ending sea of papers he'd been dodging surrounded him on the worn-out wooden desk. His eyes burned, and his head ached from the tension of another long day. Taking over the bar a couple of years ago definitely tested his limits. He loved it here, but it strained the already little energy he had left to go on about his day. So much had changed in Clyde's life in the past few years alone. From becoming a father to being the new proud owner of Duck Tape due to the Heist, plus there was-. The Heist, the words halted his train of thought as memories came and went.
The biggest risk any of them had taken in their life landed all three Logans with more financial security than they knew what to do with; plus, if anything was going to convince Clyde that the Logan family curse was finally broken, it sure as hell was how swiftly they had gotten away with all of it. But none of that really mattered. Sure, it was more than nice not to think about how he would pay off the next bill or where his next meal would come from, but he couldn't help but look around and feel like something was missing. Maybe someone to share it with woulda been nice, he thought to himself. Jimmy had Sylvia, Mellie had Joe, and well, he had his Sunshine. He mentally kicked himself at the apparent self-doubt clouding his mind; Clyde had more than enough to be grateful for. But a small part of him couldn't help but yearn.
It's not like Clyde was a stranger when it came to love. Sure, it's not something he thinks he's ever experienced, but he was sure he saw it with Jimmy and Sylvia. What they had was enough to convince him there was something more out there. Clyde just wasn't entirely sure he deserved whatever that was. He would live the rest of his life longing for something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and that's just another obstacle in his life he had come to terms with.
Clyde's train of thought quickly faded when he heard the office door click open behind him, making him turn in his chair. Dark, luscious curls crawled their way onto his lap, and small arms stretched around his waist. The discomfort from a long workday quickly melted away as giggles filled his ears. Mellie trailed into the office, following a giggling Lyla, who had already captured her dad in an embrace.
Clyde took a moment to tussle Lyla's hair slightly, making her giggle even louder. The way she fit into his lap took him back to a time when she was nothing but a wailing newborn cradled in his arms while the uncertainty of being thrown into fatherhood haunted him. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. It was not like his head was in the right place either, with the too-embarassing-to-admit heartbreak, confusion, and, no doubt, fear consuming him. A one-night stand he was sure he'd never hear from again turned into a small note tied with a pink ribbon to a baby carrier on his doorstep nine months or so later. He was young, dumb, and with no time to process any of it, but before he knew it, there she was. All big brown eyes and grabby hands, looking back at him like he hung the moon, and from that moment on, Clyde knew his life would change forever.
"Hey, Sunshine." Clyde drawled, and Lyla smiled while babbling to him about her day with her favorite aunt. Mellie smiled at the sight of her eager niece, sparing no detail of their girl's day spent at the salon.
"You good if I head on out?" Mellie said as soon as Lyla let her get a word in.
"Yeah, was jus' finishin' up here n' headin' home."
"Alright. Don't stay too late now. Night, you two." Lyla wrapped herself around Mellie's legs in a tight hug before saying her goodnight and reluctantly seeing her out the door.
"Ready to go, Sunshine?" Lyla nodded towards her dad and practically sprinted toward the front door. Something told him Mellie let her niece have more sugar before bed than he would usually allow, and something else told him he would be the one to pay for it later.
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As the busier weeks of the year followed with football season being at its peak, Clyde had just about had it. Another night at Duck Tape dragged on, minutes feeling like hours. Clyde was nearing his limit between the higher volume of patrons than usual and being understaffed with just two servers on the floor for the third night in a row. He hadn't even realized what time it was. And it wasn't just tonight; everything was starting to blur together as of late—never-ending odd hours at the bar in between quality time playing whatever princess Lyla was currently obsessing over, all while making sure he was always home just in time to read a bedtime story and tuck her into bed. Clyde was losing it. It's not like he thought things would get easier as Lyla got older, but damn, he could use a break.
And he sure as hell wasn't comfortable leaving Lyla in any sort of childcare yet, so help came from the people he loved the most. Mellie was always around to spend time with her niece, taking Lyla to the salon whenever possible, while Jimmy and Sylvia were happy to step in when they could. Clyde knew how lucky he was, having his family rally around him and step up whenever he needed them. He never did like to impose his troubles on them, knowing they had their own lives to take care of. Always making sure he was on time to pick Lyla up straight after work and spending his days off with her, attending endless tea parties along with movie nights where every stuffed animal she could fit would join them on the couch beside them in the small trailer they shared.
Clyde found himself overwhelmed by the daily chaos more often than he'd like to admit. But the truth is, he had grown to depend on her just as much as she did on him. Her smiles brightened even his darkest days. Listening to Lyla talk about the things she loves, whispering 'I love you, and snuggling before bed every night kept him going no matter how exhausted he was. He wouldn't trade it for the world.
But late at night, when Lyla was finally asleep and the world was a little quieter, Clyde's thoughts always seemed to be a little louder. It was the only time when he didn't have to have all the answers or act like everything wasn't weighing on him as heavily as it was, where not a single person depended on or needed something from him. Nothing else to do but sink into the couch, crack his favorite beer open, and drift off to sleep, only to wake up the next day and do it all over again.
"C'mon Clyde. A couple drinks with ya favorite brother, plus ya can use the night out. Syl's got her." Jimmy insisted, breaking Clyde out of his haze. Clyde huffed; the poor guy just wanted his brother to let off some steam, and he understood that. He was thankful his brother always looked out for him in his own way, but he couldn't give in. Not again. He winced slightly at the memory of the last time he indulged in a reckless drunk night out and how it ended with Lyla on his doorstep. Not that he regrets any of it, of course. He'd do it again a million times if it meant ending up with Lyla every time. But there was no denying the exhaustion that plagued him since that day. Long days and sometimes nights at the bar, followed by a never-ending list of chores, along with a more than needy kiddo constantly yanking at his leg, awaited him at home.
" 'S alright. 'M jus' stressed, been workin' nonstop, jus' wanna get home to Sunshine." Clyde put on a strained smile as he wiped down the bar top for the night. He couldn't bring himself to justify spending any of his spare time away from his girl. Having his family watch Lyla was always more of a necessity; how could he ask more of them? Just so he could kick back a few beers and feel like shit about it tomorrow? No, thank you, Clyde thought to himself. Jimmy let up as their attention was drawn away toward the door, chiming as Mellie sauntered into Duck Tape and scurried right up to the bar beside her brother.
"Guess what?" Mellies shoots Clyde a knowing smirk while bouncing on her feet excitedly.
"What?" Clyde managed to keep his tone steady, reluctantly ready to hear whatever Mellie was plotting after having to fight Jimmy off for the last hour about him 'loosenin' up,' whatever the hell that meant.
"I found ya a babysitter for the summer. Or is a nanny that ya needed? Oh well, whatever it is, I found her." She pulls out one of the bar stools and takes a seat. Clyde sets down the rag and takes a deep breath before looking back at Mellie, silently urging her to continue. "An' before ya say anythin', she's a real close friend; met her a couple years back at the salon, and she just moved back into town; she'd be perfect for this."
"Takin care of Lyla isn't something for one of your little friends, Mel." Clyde didn't mean to sound so condescending. Especially when his little sister was only trying to make his life easier, but he couldn't help himself. With the amount of time this person would spend with his daughter, Clyde needed someone he could trust. He prided himself in always wanting what was best for his Sunshine; her care was no exception.
"C'mon Clyde. Ya need the help, and she's a good one, I swear. Great with kids, and you can trust her." He sighed. "Just meet her before you make any decisions...please?" Clyde knew there was no talking Mellie out of anything, especially when her mind was made up like this. Plus, if he was being honest with himself, he was desperate. He didn't trust many people where Lylas was concerned, and that made the picking for her nanny or even a babysitter slim to none in this small town. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed this. And if Mellie trusted her, well, that would have to be good enough for him. For now.
"Fine. I'll meet her. When were ya thinkin'?" Mellie beamed a smile at him before checking her phone as a text message came through.
"Is now a good time?" Clyde's dazed look only amused Mellie further as she turned to the front door. "There she is!" Mellie hollered toward you, waving so you'd join them.
Clyde's eyes felt like they were damn near ready to fall right out of his head. If the word 'trouble' had a picture next to it in the dictionary, he was sure it'd look a lot like you, all dolled up in jeans that looked like they'd been drawn on and worn-down cowboy boots as you confidently strutted your way toward him. All bright eyes and delicious curves taking up all of his attention and then some. Clyde's grip tightened, practically digging his fingernails painfully into his palm. He couldn't remember the last time he reacted so strongly to someone. Pretty girls strolling in and out of Duck Tape were a rarity; he never bothered to give them a second look, let alone a first one. A hazy introduction later, you extended your hand towards him, and he swore he could feel lightning crackle through his veins at the warmth of your palm, immediately kicking himself for being so affected by you so quickly. Get it together, asshole, he told himself. This was going to be a long night.
---------
Mellie embraced you warmly and dragged you toward the two men staring daggers at you from the bar. It felt odd when she texted you out of the blue to meet her and the parent of the child you might or might not be taking care of this summer at some bar, but you didn't question it. Mellie always came with surprises. You happily greeted Jimmy, recalling the second Logan and his little girl from when you visited Mel's salon while he was fixing up the place last summer. In the short time you spent in this small town, the Logans always had their own way of making you feel right at home.
"Hi." You introduced yourself to the man behind the bar top, trying not to let his stern gaze affect you. His broad shoulders and handsome face made your breath hitch from the moment you first saw him. And if he kept looking at you like he was, you weren't sure your knees wouldn't buckle on the spot.
"Clyde, this is my friend I was tellin' ya about." Mellie cautiously glared at her seemingly rigid brother before looking back at you. "This is my brother, Clyde, Lyla's dad." You offered him a warm smile and extended a hand toward him. Clyde stiffened further, eyes darting between you; his large palm engulfed yours.
"Hm. Nice to meet ya." He offered you a tight smile and briefly shook your hand, practically snatching it away. Your skin suddenly missed his warmth, but you shook away the slight disappointment at his apparent disinterest.
"Clyde, don't be rude. Sorry, he's not a real people person." Mellie scolded him and turned toward you. "So ya still interested in that babysittin' gig? Lord knows my brother here could use the help." Clyde's eyes shot up and glared at Mellie, silently wishing the ground would swallow him whole so he could be spared the embarrassment his little sister was already putting him through.
"I don't know. Is it still available?" You glanced at Clyde teasingly, hoping to ease whatever tension had manifested between the three of you in the last five minutes.
"Yes. No." Clyde scrambled to gather his thoughts before continuing. "It is I just...I'd like to see ya spend time with her first. See how ya are with her n all that.'' He sighed. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go. He was supposed to find a nanny, get through the summer, and life could go on like it had been. Instead, he felt so flustered that he couldn't even string a simple sentence together if his life depended on it.
"I can come over sometime this week to spend some time with her. If it doesn't feel like a good fit for you, you have no obligation to hire me." You made sure to sneak in that last part before he could change his mind. Clyde nodded towards you appreciatingly.
"How's tomorrow afternoon? Round 1? I can drop her off after my shift." Mellie chimed in before Clyde could stumble over any more of his words.
"Tomorrow it is, then." You nodded and received a barely there smile from the grumpy bartender. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
-----
The next day arrived much faster than Clyde realized. He typically looked forward to his mornings off, sharing a big plate of burnt bacon with Lyla while sprawling on the couch watching morning cartoons. Instead, he spent most of his morning distracted. Even when Lyla rambled about what was playing on the television, Clyde's mind wandered back to you. It's not like he'd gotten much sleep either, with the thought of seeing you again running through is mind late at night. What was supposed to be a quick shower ended with Clyde's hand gripping his cock, images of you pressed up against him, droplets of water streaming down your breasts as he drove into you and pressed his warm body on yours. It wasn't long before he felt himself spill on his hand, and harsh reality set in. Clyde hated himself over it. He was going to be your employer, for fucks sake. He'd barely met you for more than ten minutes, and already he was over here pining and touching himself like some hormone-crazed teenager with a crush. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Mellie swung by to pick Lyla up, promising her another one of their girls' days at the salon. Lyla quickly got ready, and after seeing her out the door and waving the two off, Clyde managed to peel himself off the couch and headed over to the bar.
From there, the morning dragged like no other. Clyde spent most of it sitting in his office, trying not to think about the fact that you'd walk through those doors any second. He always found it easy to throw himself into work, put everything else aside, and focus on what needed to get done. But every time he tried, there you were. There was no way he'd be able to do this. Spending more time with you? If he felt this out of control after one day, how would he be able to be any sort of normal around you all summer? He couldn't; he had to end this today. You would understand; Mellie said this job wasn't all that serious for you anyway. You could go back to wherever you came from, and he could finally get something done without thinking about how your hand felt on his last night. Or how badly he wanted to trace the soft skin on your collarbone or how your smile warmed his heart with a familiarity he somehow already craved.
Clyde didn't get too far into his bar prep when the doors to Duck Tape swung open. Lylas skipped inside, Mellie following closely behind her. She stumbled while trying to climb one of the bar stools, making Clyde exit the bar quickly and taking her in his arms.
"Gon' hurt ya self there, Sunshine." Lyla giggled, the bar stool wobbling underneath her before Clyde set her on the ground. Just as Mellie said her goodbyes and headed out, the door opened, but this time, Clyde could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.
-------
Your morning had been nothing short of hectic after changing your outfit an endless amount of times. Not to mention spilling coffee on your shirt once you'd managed to settle on something. You quickly shoved that aside and mustered whatever courage you had left to head over to the bar. A short drive later, you walked into Duck Tape at precisely one o'clock to find Clyde standing beside an adorable little girl looking up at him with a guilty look on her face.
"Now I know Aunt Mellie gave ya candy at the salon; that's enough for today, sunshine." Lyla pouted slightly as you listened in. Clyde said a quick hi and crouched beside her when he noticed you standing there. Lyla wrapped herself around her dad's legs when she spotted you.
"Lyla, this is Aunt Mellie's friend. The one I told ya about." Clyde waited cautiously for his daughter's response. As you knelt on the floor in front of the pair, you were met with wild chestnut curls and doe-brown eyes on the cutest kid you've ever seen.
"Nice to meet you, Lyla." The little girl retracted shyly into her dad's embrace. Your eyes landed on the coloring book and plastic crayon box she cradled in her hands. "That's a nice princess coloring book you got there. Rapunzel is my favorite, ya know."
"Rapuzel's my favorite too." Lyla mumbled, chocolate button eyes hesitantly landing on you.
"No way! Her dress has both of my favorite colors, purple and pink."
"Those are mine too! Daddy got me a 'punzel dress, and he lets me wear it all the time when we have tea parties 'n stuff." You could've sworn Clyde's cheeks flushed slightly like the doting dad you could already see he was.
"I bet he does." You smiled over at Clyde. Thinking about this large man playing pretend princess and having tea parties with his daughter had your heart swirling with emotions you were sure shouldn't be there in the first place. You didn't know why that warmed your heart the way it did, but you brushed it off as you offered to color with her, and Lyla practically dragged you toward the back of the bar.
The next hour was spent with the both of you huddled in a corner booth while Clyde kept busy around the bar. You talked endlessly about her extensive knowledge of every single princess, colored a couple of pages, and even earned a few giggles.
Clyde wiped down the bar for what he was sure was the millionth time. There was minimal on the to-do list for today, but he would busy himself here as long as it took if it meant keeping an eye on you two. It's not like you needed it; he didn't need to be there to know you were hitting it off with Lyla. The chatter had been nonstop since you sat at the booth; you engaged seamlessly with her. Listening intently to every word while keeping her entertained. He noticed his daughter was just as entranced with you as he was. This was a good thing, wasn't it? He had to admit he miscalculated your ability in all of this when you first met. Clyde felt terrible about how closed off he'd been last night. Here you were, all bright-eyed and ready to help, and there he was, the usual grey cloud raining on everybody's parade the first chance he got. At least, that's how he assumed everyone saw him.
Clyde was refilling some bottles from the bar when Jimmy called, letting him know he was outside. He signaled over to Lyla, who was beyond excited to spend the rest of her day with her uncle and cousin Sadie. You helped her gather her things before Jimmy took Lyla in his arms. One "Bye, Daddy!" and a wave from Clyde later, and it was just the two of you in the ample bar space.
"So how'd I do, bossman?" you asked as Clyde stepped out from behind the bar. His large frame coming into full view was enough to make a girl swoon on the spot. You attempted to reign in whatever self-control you could gather, well enough to take a step toward him without feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. Clyde remained silent for a moment before you felt the need to speak.
"Look, I know it must be hard to just trust a stranger with all this. And I know I'm not the most qualified person out there. But I'm a hard worker and punctual; playing princesses and tea parties happens to be my specialty. Plus, I can make anything into a game." You could've sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on Clyde's handsome face.
"She seems to like you." Warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment. Lyla was a smart kid and funny, too. You knew it would be hard not to fall in love with the little rascal from the moment you met.
"Well, I like her too, so that's a plus." Clyde felt his entire body tense up at your newfound proximity. From here, he could see the flush of your lips and the captivating color in your eyes, like two pools he would happily drown in. Your warm smile drew him in until he found himself needing to be closer to you than what was deemed appropriate. And to hear you talking so sweetly about his sunshine? His heart felt like it could burst out of his chest, but he quickly compelled that away to unpack another day.
"Can ya start tomorrow? I have a late shift bein' a sports night n all." Clyde attempted to shake his thoughts away. He had to try at least to pretend like he hadn't spent the better part of his shift taking longing glances at you, admiring the way your white tee and jeans fit your curves in a way that made sure he'd have to walk around with a semi and adjust his pants for the rest of the day.
"Sure thing. Your place?" Clyde nods and gives you a time and address.
--------
The next several weeks were filled with endless princess gatherings, storytelling from faraway lands, coloring for hours on end, and whatever adventure Lyla would conjure up that day. She warmed up to you almost instantly; things were going great. Better than great, sometimes, you had to question if this was really your job with how much fun you were having. Lyla was witty, smart, and had an imagination to be envied. She seemed so free and unapologetically herself in the best way. You could tell she had been raised with an unconditional love any kid could only dream of. It wasn't like the occasional meltdown didn't take place from time to time, being a toddler and all. But you always find a way to bring that smile back to Lyla's face.
Things with Clyde hadn't simmered down in the slightest. Every interaction, every glance, every accidental touch had your yearning growing. Every moment spent together allowed you to quietly admire something new about him. The way his chest filled out those t-shirts he often wore, his hair that begged to have your fingers tangled in it, or even how he pursed his lips in that way that had your core clenching whenever he spoke. Not to mention, seeing him with Lyla made your knees weak. This gentle giant's soft demeanor melted your heart while twisting your insides in the most delicious way. Still, Lyla kept you more than busy; otherwise, you'd spend your days daydreaming about Clyde Logan. Today was no different. Building forts and baking cookies had been the first thing on the itinerary, and knowing Lyla, there was always more to come. When she'd finally fallen asleep watching Cinderella on the couch, you carefully tucked her into her bed and quietly exited the room, shutting the door just as Clyde entered the trailer.
"Hey." You whispered as Clyde set down his stuff and went to the kitchen. "I just put her to bed."
"Thanks. Sorry, 'M late. Bar kept gettin' crazy n' I just couldn't get away. It's-" You cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, feeling him tense under you.
"Clyde, it's okay. That's what I'm here for, remember?" You winked at him before walking toward the kitchen to put away the rest of the dishes. Clyde headed to the fridge and pulled out two beers. Your cheeks warmed, watching him lean over with one sturdy arm on the fridge door, the muscles on his back rippling under the worn-down t-shirt while the two bottles fit snuggly in his large hand. Get it together, you told yourself, forcing your gaze away.
"Beer?" Clyde gestured toward you. "I was jus' gonna have one on the porch." The words tumbled from his mouth without realizing. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. You looked all comfortable, your books and blanket on his couch, standing here in his kitchen, in his home, moving around like you belonged there. But Clyde wasn't stupid; his head was definitely playing tricks on him. There wasn't a universe that existed where a woman as beautiful as you would be interested in a guy like him, and he understood that. Now the only problem was keeping his heart and dick in check long enough to be professional.
The night sky was decorated with stars against the black abyss, quiet and still. Just the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. Clyde followed you outside, shutting the door quietly. You sat beside him, legs folded comfortably in the porch chairs as he handed you a cold beer.
"So, how was everythin'?" He said before taking a swig of his beer, the soft rumble of his voice activating those darn butterflies in your stomach already.
"Great. Pretty sure she tried on every princess dress in her closet and saw Frozen at least ten times. We danced, sang, and even built a fort." You found yourself smiling at the memory of Lyla with a mismatched dress and crown belting 'Let It Go' with you while jumping around her room. "Same old, same old."
"Mhm." Clyde relaxed further into his seat. The more time you spent with him, the more apparent it became that he was a man of few words. Still, you appreciated the ones he was willing to share with you.
"It was a good day; it always is." You noticed Clyde stretched his left arm before him as if irritated by it.
"Mind if I take this off?" The words tumbled out before Clyde could stop them, the beer loosening his tongue. Clyde wasn't sure why he suddenly felt comfortable enough around you to remove his prosthesis. He was pretty sure the people closest to him hadn't even seen him without it. Although it shouldn't surprise him, his sense of ease around you only grew within the last couple of weeks.
"Go ahead." Clyde hesitated for a second, then carefully removed his prosthetic, massaging the tender spot. Your eyes scanned the newly exposed skin. "Does it hurt?" Clyde paused his movement and huffed. You cleared your throat, the day's exhaustion clearly eliminating whatever filter you had left. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-forget I said anything."
"'S alright. Served two tours n' ended with this. 'N no, not really, not all the time, at least. Jus' bothers having this thing on all day." You nodded, understanding it was something still difficult for him to talk about.
"You don't have to ask, you know? To take it off. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for no reason." Clyde smiled while nursing his beer. When he looked over, he found your eyes tracing the scars left behind on his arm. Clyde reached for his sleeve, suddenly feeling the need to cover up, before you placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. "Is this okay?" Clyde gulped and gave a slight nod. He wasn't sure if it was the exposed flesh or how vulnerable this whole thing felt, but he swore he could feel every nerve on his body light up under your touch. Your fingers lightly outlined the scar for a moment before you smiled at him, settled back into your chair, and sipped your beer.
"Mellie dropped by today, and I meant to ask you if I should know of anyone coming by to see Lyla other than your siblings. Friends maybe? Her mom?" You snuck in that last part before you could stop yourself; the last thing you wanted to do was overstep. But you were curious. Lyla never mentioned her, and you didn't notice any pictures of her around the house. Was she a good mom? Was she pretty? She had to be to be Lyla's mom. Did she still hang around? Would she like you hanging around? Maybe she wouldn't want you getting all close to Clyde. Hush that is none of your business, you told yourself.
"Lyla's mom isn't in the picture. Never was. She jus' about dropped Lyla at my doorstep 'n we never heard from her again. Didn't want nothin' to do with her or me, said so in the letter she left." His words spliced across your heart, and tears welled in your eyes for the little girl sleeping soundly inside. Just thinking about someone walking away from an angel like that with such carelessness had you wanting to find this woman with your fist immediately.
"So, you two never?" Clyde shook his head almost as if you'd insulted him.
"It was a one-time thing. A drunken night full of bad choices, 'N then she disappeared. Popped back up again with Lyla, and that was it. Letters last I heard from her." Clyde said. "Not that I wanted her to come back. I don't. We've been jus' fine just us two."
"I don't doubt that for a second."
-----------
The following Sunday morning came with blue skies and warm summer air. Clyde insisted you'd take Sundays for yourself, although you weren't sure why. It's not like you had any other friends around here besides Mel, not to mention a social life being out of the question. When you weren't with Lyla, plans usually consisted of staying at home with a good book and getting chores done. You were gathering your things to lay out in the sun for a bit when Mellie called about being overbooked at the salon and Clyde having an emergency at the bar and asked if you could watch Lyla for the day. A few minutes later, you managed to put together an easy picnic basket, threw a shirt and shorts over your bathing suit, and headed out the door.
A short drive and only two knocks on the trailer later, Lyla ran out, wrapping both arms around your legs in a tight hug. She quickly pulled you inside to find Clyde sitting on the couch with cartoons playing faintly in the background.
"Hi." The morning rasp in his voice had your chest tightening and face flushing. He wore a faded t-shirt and simple dark gray sweats that you had to fight not to stare at. "I tried callin'. Ya didn't have to come, everythin's been takin care of."
"Oh. My phone must still be on do not disturb from last night or something. I was gonna take Lyla to the lake for a picnic and maybe a swim." Lyla's face immediately perked up as she squealed excitedly.
"I'm gonna go get my swimsuit on!" She yelled as she tried to run off into the hall before Clyde stopped her.
"Now, sunshine, today's her day off."
"What's that mean?" Lyla's disappointment grew along with the pout on her face.
"Means she's got stuff to do, stuff she's gotta get done today. She'll be back tomorrow, hm?" Lyla reluctantly nodded as Clyde placed a kiss on her forehead.
"Well," you interjected, unsure if it was your place to say something, but there was no way you could stand by and disappoint Lyla like this, especially when spending your days with her had become your favorite thing to do. "If it's okay with your dad, I'd love some company. I can't eat all these PB&J's and snacks I packed alone now, can I?" Lyla looked toward Clyde. A mix of 'please' and 'please, daddy' flooded Clyde's ears before reluctantly giving in to his daughter's whim. Lyla sprinted toward her room to change, mumbling something about showing her water tricks, making you chuckle.
"You're welcome to join us. I packed plenty of food, and it's too nice of a day out to stay inside." Clyde contemplated for a moment. Just the thought of seeing you prancing around in the water in a skin-tight bathing suit had his pants tightening uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he could control himself. But he had the day off and sure as hell didn't want to spend it without his Sunshine. Plus, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the two of you alone by the creek in the woods. It would be safer if he went with you. At least that's what he told himself as he agreed and slipped away to change into his water shorts.
The drive over to the creek went a little faster than usual, thanks to you and Lyla singing along to some of her favorite songs. Clyde spent the entire ride concealing a smirk at the sight of both of you breaking into song and then into a fit of giggles once one of you would get the words mixed up. Once you'd arrived, Clyde wasted no time unloading the truck and helping a restless Lyla get out of her seat. You found the perfect shady spot to set up the blanket and laid out some things from the picnic basket; once satisfied, you set your shorts and shirt to the side and settled in. Lyla wasted no time hitting the water, barely letting you slather some sunscreen before sprinting off with her floatie. You sat by the shore with your book, watching her splash around. The cool water around your legs is a nice relief from the sun's warmth on your skin. Clyde sat back against the tree, keeping his eyes on the two of you. He couldn't help but imagine if this was what it would be like—having someone by his side sharing moments like these with Lyla.
The afternoon passed far too quickly. A blur of splashes and fits of laughter ended with a sleepy Lyla slung on her dad's shoulders as you packed everything back into the truck and headed out. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the fleeting colors of dusk began to fade away. Only the rumble of the truck and crickets chirping surrounded by the night sky remained. Lyla's soft snores could be heard from behind as you glanced over at Clyde. The soft moonlight reflected off his skin, hair still slightly damp from the creek. His eyes were trained on the road ahead, but you could tell something was on his mind as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.
You sat comfortably on the passenger seat, your thigh dangerously close to his hand resting on the gear. His fingers itched to reach over, wondering how soft your flesh would feel under his touch. No matter how hard it was to keep a calm facade, he couldn't help but recall the silky skin over your bathing suit top, curves he would kill to trace every inch of it with his tongue teasing him from every angle. Even the way your teeth caught on your lip in the most sinful way was driving him insane. Everything about today was driving him insane. Not to mention watching you with his Sunshine. How you'd dramatically play along to every scenario Lyla created until you were nothing but a fit of giggles, watching in awe as you smothered her in hugs and kisses every time she'd swim into your arms. His sunshine was an affectionate girl, don't get him wrong. But she sure as hell didn't open up easily to strangers, yet here you were, winning her over from day one. Clyde shook away the ache in his heart at the thought as he redirected his attention back to the road.
A short while later, you'd arrived back at Clyde's. He hopped out of the car just after you did, carrying a passed-out Lyla in his arms into the house. You stayed outside, wondering if you should wait for him to return or count your losses and hurry home. Before you could make up your mind, Clyde appeared and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving the two of you uncomfortably close on his front porch.
"Thank ya for today." The faulty lamp above you did little against the night.
"It's no problem," you said before a silence fell between you. The dim light accentuated his nose and the plumpness of his lips in the most beautiful way. His eyes drifted up to yours as you took a tentative step toward him. Your heart began to pound, chests nearly pressed against one another, feeling a familiar desire spread in your core. Clyde's breathing grew heavier, suddenly aching to get you closer.
Just as the longing became unbearable, he closed the gap between your mouths, first with the utmost gentleness, then with the hunger of a starved man. You made a delicious little sound and responded with the same fervor, sparking a fire in his belly. He didn't want it to stop. The warmth of his mouth had you melting into him. Your lips parted slightly as his hand came up loosely at the side of your neck, holding you close.
"Daddy!" Lyla's distant voice rang in your ears. Clyde pulled away suddenly; a rush of frigid air replaced the warmth where his body was pressed up against you. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over the two of you, snapping you back into your harsh reality. Lyla began to cry from what was probably a nightmare. Clyde sighed as he looked toward the front door and back to you. You cleared your throat and wrapped your sweatshirt tighter around, unable to look him in the eye after he'd practically kissed you dizzy.
"I should go. Goodnight, Clyde." You offered him a warm smile and dashed to your car before he could say anything else. Clyde stood with his head slightly hung, ensuring you were safely in the driver's seat before heading inside. You lowered the windows in an attempt to let the humid summer night air free from inside, hoping a little fresh air would snap you out of whatever trance Clyde had just put you under. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you ran your fingers along your lips, the ghost of his kiss still buzzing through you on the drive home.
If you prefer a relationship with someone who is overprotective, obsessive and clingy, he’s the perfect match for you!
If you're dating Kylo Ren, it means that you have successfully broken down his walls which is very difficult.
He is a very reserved individual with unmanaged anger issues, preferring to keep to himself when given the chance.
Due to his nature, many individuals in the First Order try their best to stay out of his way in fear of his raging temper.
However, once you peak his interest, he will find ways of being around you while you carry on with your duties around the ship.
He has never been in love or even remotely had crushes before. When he starts feeling this need creep into his chest, he needs to uncover why you enchant him so.
He's very inexperienced with romance or courting, please save him.
Therefore, when he tries courting you, he fumbles at times and innerly gets pissed at himself.
He was trying to make you flustered, not giggle sweetly, which makes his heart race.
Once, he was caught by one of his knights practicing in the mirror on asking you out.
Cardo never ran away so fast in his life serving as one of the Knights of Ren.
Once you're offically in a relationship with him, you will see a different side to him that others never get to see.
Mentioned previously, Kylo is very overprotective. Your safety is his first priority and he will drop everything else if you were ever in danger.
He never allows anyone to cause you harm or touch you inappropriately.
The type that will not simply tell someone off, he will either choke them to death with the force or use his lightsaber.
Whenever Kylo's mind is made up, there is rarely anything that will change his perspective. Besides you.
He values your opinion over everyone else and gives you his undivided attention when you speak up and takes it into consideration.
His love languages are quality time and physical touch.
He is a very jealous man.
In public, he's more reserved in his affection. The most he will do is keep an arm around your waist or give you temple kisses when he isn't wearing his mask.
In private, good luck having him keep his hands off you, he craves your touch.
Spam Liking = Blocked
However, he isn't jealous as in someone has a chance to steal you from him. He's the type of jealous that feels rage within him when someone thinks that they can even remotely try.
Warnings: Literally just so much unspoken love. Like, an insane amount of it.
Word Count: 830
Summary: You wake up with Kylo Ren.
Author’s Note: This is just a reminder that my requests ARE open for pretty much any of Adam’s characters! If you have any ideas, thoughts, or requests, feel free to send them my way :) Also, I am thinking of making a new taglist for my writing, so if you’d like to be tagged in my writing, let me know, and I’ll be sure to make that happen! - Ryn
“I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm, your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm. Yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new. In city and in forest, they smiled like me and you, but now it's come to distances and both of us must try. Your eyes are soft with sorrow, and hey, that's no way to say goodbye . . .” - Hey That’s No Way to Say Goodbye, Feist
It is early when Kylo Ren wakes and looks over to his left. You are sleeping beside him, your chest rising and falling steadily as you dream. He finds himself wondering what it is you’re dreaming about. If it’s good. If it’s calm. If it’s him.
He’s leaving today. That much is certain. He has to find the scavenger, turn her, bring her to the Dark Side. He’s not sure how long he’ll be gone for.
Kylo reaches down and caresses your cheek, an action that he normally wouldn’t be caught doing during the day. If the two of you were on a planet, though, the sun wouldn’t even be up, so Kylo lets himself touch your cheek. Your hair is splayed out on his pillow, and you stir as he pulls his hand away.
This could be the end of everything, Kylo realizes as emotion rises behind his eyes. He doesn’t cry. He never cries, but he might right now. You just look so beautiful and soft and . . . Good.
You are good. A good lover, a good conversationalist, a good person. He’s the complete opposite, always so tied up with responsibilities and tasks that mean little to him. He doesn’t have time to be good.
Your eyes open slowly, and Kylo’s face is the first thing that you see. You smile instantly. Kylo isn’t sure why.
“Hey,” you say, reaching for his hand. “What time is it?”
“Five,” Kylo says. You hum, bringing his hand to your lips so that you can kiss his fingers. He swallows harshly.
“When do you have to go?”
“Soon.”
You nod, looking away from his face so that you can focus on his hand. His hands are so lovely: Big and rough and strong. You bring it up to your cheek, silently asking him to touch the skin there.
He does.
“You should go,” Kylo breathes, voice barely above a whisper. He knows that his voice is on the verge of shaking. You nod, offering him a small smile.
“I know, love,” you say. Kylo rubs your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Will you call me while you’re away?”
“If you would like that,” he says.
“Of course I would.”
You sit up, stretching and looking away. You knew this was coming, but you didn’t think it would be so soon. You thought he’d at least get you something to eat, something to drink, something to hold onto.
You go to stand and get re-dressed – you’re still naked from the night before – and Kylo catches your wrist. You look back at him.
“I . . . “ he starts.
There is so much he needs to tell you, like how he notices the way you stare at him during meetings, and how much you make him feel, and how deeply you have derailed his existence just by being yourself and having him in this way.
He closes his mouth.
You sigh, then pull away and grab your clothes. You get dressed slowly, and you feel his eyes on you the entire time. You grab Kylo’s undershirt, the one he was wearing last night, and slip it on over your uniform.
“May I keep this?” you ask him.
“Yes.”
You nod, then pull the sleeves down over your wrists.
“I’ll, um . . . I’ll go, then,” you say after you pull your boots on. Kylo stands quickly, still wearing only a pair of underwear, and steps in front of you. He looks at you desperately, wishing more than anything that you could simply read his mind so that he wouldn’t have to say it out loud–
“Please be safe while I’m gone,” Kylo says. You put your hands on his warm chest as he speaks. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
You smile softly, gently, and reach up to touch the scar on his cheek.
“Nothing will happen to me, love,” you say. “Don’t worry. Just bring the scavenger back with you, alright?”
Kylo nods.
“I will.”
You lean up and kiss him, then. It is deep. Passionate. Loving. It conveys all that the two of you are too afraid to say: I love you. I need you. Take care of yourself.
You pull away, tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, and offer him a smile.
“I’ll see you, Supreme Leader.”
Kylo nods, pulling his hands off of your hips as you take your hand off his cheek.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, Dead Dove Do Not Eat; this fic may be unsettling for some readers. Dark!Mills, Chasing Predator/Prey, fear, tense scenes. DubCon [Non-Con Themes?]. Mentions of body hair, Size Difference/Size Kink. Pussy slapping, unprotected p in v sex, tummy bulge, claiming, cream pie
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Jagged bark digs into the skin of your back through the thin, soft cotton fabric of your shirt. You feel the amber tree sap seep into the canvas, sticking uncomfortably to your back and clinging to you as you try to ease your hyperventilation. The cells of your lungs vibrate with alarm, stinging as you suck in mouthfuls of oxygen.
Get away.
The sunshine thrashes you, your skin slick with the sweat that rolls down your temples. Heat ebbs at the edges of your mind, teasing you with the promise of unconsciousness. Rest. It urges you to let your knees slump, to ease your aching body down to the forest floor and close your eyes for a moment– you can’t. You can’t be certain how far ahead you were or how much of a head-start he had conceded.
It had been freezing when you awoke, the cold biting your skin raw even as it thawed. A low hum deafened your ears, subconscious tears frosting your coarse eyelash hairs together and forcing your lids shut. Panicked, you had pushed the heels of your palms to your eyes in an attempt to melt the frosty glue, feeling something slippy and thick smear across the skin of your cheekbone.
The metal tang to the scent that pierced your nostrils indicated you were bleeding, pain leaping forward in your skull and forcing your eyes open in your discomfort. Like a mallet smashed over your head, the sounds of your surroundings cracked through your ear drums. A deafening siren screamed, blurring your vision with the intensity of its volume. Glass tinkled against the metal shell of the cryogenic chamber as you’d wearily pushed yourself from the leather seat you had called home for an estimated double solar-cycle. Your limbs were stiff, unused and preserved in ice for twenty-four months.
Green flooded your vision as you rose to your feet, a flashing light on the data pad of your chamber indicating your apparent survival following defrost. You’d been thankful to see your vitals displayed across the screen– you had felt so awful upon waking that you were almost certain you had died.
Relief that had flooded your veins curdled into distress when the data pad beeped, a cursor swiping across the pixels to dismiss the notification of your stirring.
You hadn’t given the scene much notice from then, jittery fear shuddering over your skin and forcing your feet forward. The ship that had meant to deliver you to Somaris was nowhere in sight, but debris pieces of the vessel had lay strewn across the forest floor. Orange embers still glowed within the metal of some large slabs of metal.
The realisation had been slow to arrive, the throbbing remnants of a concussion sweeping nausea throughout your body as you stumbled over the fallen trees. The piercing ring of the alarm continues to circle your agitated mind, tormenting you with the sinking reality of your plight. Stranded on a planet far beyond the solar system you had come from, surrounded by alien creatures you hadn’t seen stored in information holo-pads and without a ship to re-enter orbit– all while attempting to avoid the person who you had no doubt was hot on your heels.
Initially, you had assumed that the scaly, lizard-like animals were causing the snapping of the twigs in the thick treeline of the forest. While some were humongous, you noticed some were of a smaller size. Even the creatures that reached your hips posed a significant enough threat for you to avoid them by ducking behind tree trunks and bushes, their sharp teeth dripping with saliva when they caught your scent.
Whipping around at the sound of another ‘crunch’, you’d caught sight of him. Long, ebony hair fell in strands in front of his face; his brows pinched together in a stalker's concentration. His lips set in a grim, thin line, recharge-blaster aimed directly at your calves. The amber sap that had coated your skin from the trees appeared to have drenched his eyes, irises burning a bright honey colour in the brutal sunshine.
You hadn’t stopped running since, chest heaving as the cells of your lungs screamed at the intensity of your pace. The thick fabric of your flight suit, coated in leather around the collar, was heavy to carry, your legs aching as you’d lept over each of the fallen trunks in your way.
Shuddering at the memory of the hours you have spent evading capture, you inhale shakily in an attempt to ease your thumping heart. It threatens to crack your sternum, bludgeoning the bone with its rapid pace. Even though you’d stopped for some time, dread kept your heartbeat thrumming like the wings of the birds on your home planet, your blood rushing in your ears and drowning out the squawks of the flying lizards, their beaks long and sharp, wings leathery with clawed hands at the joint.
A stream trickles nearby, the running water rippling around the surrounding rocks. The breeze is cool against your face, tickling your cheekbones in a soft kiss. Despite the rustling of the leaves, the babble of the small brook, and the distant hiss of the hot spring geysers, it’s utterly quiet.
Foreboding chills you to the bone, wringing you dry.
It feels off, this delicate balance of stillness. Trepidation crawls up the vertebrae of your spine and prickles your skin with goosebumps. There’s an ambience; thick with something sinister. It coats your surroundings and lingers in the air like unsparked lighting, threatening to pounce.
Your hair stands on end, blood freezing along with the beat of your heart when you hear it; the zooming charge of a blaster.
“You can’t run from me forever.” It’s delivered with an alarming deadpan, his even voice ricocheting off the tree line. You can’t tell where he is like this, your neck reeling on its shoulders as you frantically search the area.
Darting your eyes amongst the bushes, you spot him- his footsteps cautious as he picks each footfall carefully. He’s learnt from his previous mistake, ensuring not to reveal his position with a snapping twig.
You swallow back a whimper, skirting around the trunk of the tree. Palm pressed to your nose and mouth; you hear your trembling breaths as you attempt to smother them. It’s terrifying, the level of noise you make. You’re certain your pulse gives away your hiding spot- that the vibration of the very cells of your being is connected to an amplifier and blasting through the woodlands.
In contrast, your pursuer is almost silent, barely making a sound as he picks through the undergrowth. You wonder how it’s possible for such a large man to make so little noise. He’s so careful, so silent that you pause your breath to listen for him better. Where-?
“Sweet Thing…” you hear him coo, a slight taunt to his voice that makes your nails dig into the tree's bark. Your lungs threaten to scream, ankles promising to buckle beneath the suffocating pressure.
Crouching as low as you can onto the balls of your feet, you attempt to shuffle around the trunk's circumference. You’re careful to test each footstep, feeling for fragile foliage beneath the sole of your shoe before setting it on the floor. You swallow thickly, wincing as the dried leaves rustle quietly.
It’s as though time momentarily stops. The rubber of your heel catches on the roots of the tree, slipping down the curved surface and sending your foot crashing through the sun-baked foliage with a sickening ‘crunch.’
Oh.
Tensing up all at once, your muscles pinch with fear. You fail to suppress the heaving breaths that rattle through you now, sucking in mouthfuls of oxygen and wheezing in terror when you exhale.
“Hmm,” a hum sounds to your left, loud to your ears. You bristle, the seams of your person screaming that you need to move, to run. Instead, you stay rooted to the spot, fight or flight bested by the primal instinct to be still. To hide. The atmosphere shifts, the chill of the breeze twisting to an icy disquiet.
Don’t. Don’t move, be still. If you’re still, he won-
They crawl across the curve of your jaw at first, fingertips creeping along the line of the bone before gently grasping your chin. White hot fear holds you perfectly still as his thumb pushes into the soft flesh of your cheek, the scrape of his knuckles biting into your skin as they purse your lips together. With your feeble attempt to shake him, his grip turns solid.
“Got you.”
His gruff voice rasps against the shell of your ear, lips brushing the thin skin and raising goose pimples across your neck and down your spine. Breath caught in your throat, you barely manage a whimper of response– the sound cracks in your vocal cords and sounds more like a startled exhale.
Your resolve fractures into tiny shards as he uses the grip on your chin to tilt your head backwards. Tension cracks between your shoulder blades at the awkward angle, your muscles straining as he pulls them taut. There’s a tensity at your throat, too, the thew connecting your jaw and neck almost pained by the extreme flex.
Amber. The thin strips of gold lay stark against the pitch black of his dilated pupils, irises merely a slither as the abyss swallows them whole. An eagerness paints his expression, even as his thick, dark brows pinch together in concentration. The hulking frame of your hunter stands above you, neck practically folded over to stare down at your kneeling form. He’s scanning your face, assessing each aspect of your visage and taking in the details. The paw grasping at your face tilts it left and right as he searches for… something.
Again, you wail as you feel his thumbprint dig into the soft flesh of your cheek. It braces against the edge of your molars, prints embedding– branding itself into the skin beneath it.
“Shh-Shh,” He hushes you softly, voice somewhat soothing now as he sweeps his knuckles across your temple and over your cheekbone. “Quite the hunt. Chased you all over, 70652. ”
The five digits of your passenger number ring through your eardrums like the alarms that had alerted you to your crash landing. It flits across his expression, a smug, mocking look as the realisation strikes you between your ribs like a wet blade—the pilot. Commander Mills, you had been told before cryostasis, was a skilled enough aeronaut to deliver you safely to the destination of Somaris. It appeared he had failed his mission.
“I- I don’t-”
“Everyone in the cryo-bay is dead,” he speaks over you, matter-of-fact in his unwavering tone. Your eyelashes flutter closed, confident Mills can feel your pulse pump blood through your veins as he trails his fingertips down your jugular. It tingles, the feather-light touch, adrenaline rushing over your body in surging waves. “It’s just us.”
“Hngg-” you mewl as he crouches behind you, dragging his lips gently across your pulse point as he breathes you in- the scent of your evasion. Soil coats you in an earthy smell, the metallic tang of blood from the scrapes of the thorny undergrowth. Mills groans against your jugular, scraping his sharp incisors over the thrum of your heart while savouring you.
“Aren’t you lucky?” He whispers, gravelly voice barely registering at this volume. Mill’s hand slips down your throat, calloused fingertips tracing down your central points. Your throat, your sternum between your breasts. The deliberate trail has your breath quickening, an underlying threat of danger making the hairs on your arms stand on end. “Lucky that I found you before those creatures did? Hmm?”
The delicate intonation of his question is deceptive. He’s not being kind- he’s mocking you. Still, the enamel of his teeth sinking into the concave connecting your neck and shoulder has you crying out, wetness pooling between your thighs.
“Mhm,” he lathes his tongue over the indents his teeth leave behind, splaying his fingers wide as he trails his palm over your stomach. Need unfurls beneath the weight of his hand, twisting and coating your abdomen when his fingers dip just beneath the waistband of the joggers you had been provided before entering cryostasis. “This... Is thanks enough.”
Heat creeps across the apples of your cheeks as you feel his hand slip further into your pants and wedge beneath your panties. You can do nothing but turn your hot face away from him, squeezing your eyes shut when his fingers brush through the thatch of curls across the curve of your pussy. Mills hums softly, your only warning before he’s sliding the pad of his finger through your slick cunt.
“Shit,” he grunts softly, the tip of his nose trailing up the length of your jugular. “So wet for me already.”
Sinews in your jaw ache at the force with which you clench your jaw, trying desperately to swallow down the moans that threaten to bubble up from your throat. Mills is circling his fingertip just barely over your clit now, the delicate touch coiling a throbbing heat between your thighs.
It’s a subconscious response, one that bypasses your brain and jolts your hips forward onto his hand. You don’t mean to, your fingers sinking into the soil beneath you as your body tenses. It sends a bright, hot arc of pleasure through your body and you wail raggedly, the short-lived friction enough to blur your vision.
Mills leaps.
Ripping his hand from your pants, he grabs ahold of your waist in a bruising grip, flipping you over onto your back harshly. It’s so fast, the world careening sideways. When you land it almost winds you, your spine hitting the ground with a thud. Twigs and rocks dig into your flesh, but Mills gives you no real opportunity to complain when he pins your body down with the hulking weight of his own.
Urgency spurs Mills on, pushing his fingers under the waistband of both your joggers and your panties before yanking them down your thighs. He doesn’t bother to remove them, abandoning them over your shins. They bunch around your ankles, movements restricted by the fabric. Your body is trembling, buzzing with something far from the fear he had originally inspired in you.
Mills is huge. Broad and muscular, when he leans his body over yours he almost blocks your whole line of sight. His muscles shadow through the thin fabric of his shirt, sweat causing the material to cling to his damp flesh. The chase across the forest seemed to have had little effect on his athletic frame, the exhaustion that had afflicted you unapparent when he pushes your knees back against your chest.
“Just look at you. Trembling. Panting. It’s gorgeous.” Subtle cruelty drips from his tongue when he praises you, watching your nipples harden as your folds are exposed to the cool air. Honey irises drag over your sopping cunt, greedily lapping up the view. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, so exposed to a stranger you had been running for in fear of your life just moments before.
“Please,” you beg, pathetic sobs cracking in your throat at the desperation to be touched.
“You’re in no place to be directing me, Sweet Thing.”
Despite his apparent refusal, Mills is pushing the trousers of his flight suit past his hips to expose his cock. Again, he refuses to waste time in removing them entirely, removing just enough to ease himself out of the confines of the material. You only catch a glimpse of his cock before he hoists your thighs over his pelvis, but your heart seizes at the sight– an angry, red tip leaks precum that smears across the inside of your thighs, veins protruding across the large shaft. You can’t fit tha-
God, he pushes the pad of his thumb into your clit and you yelp, seeing stars. A steady, wicked throb of bliss pulses through you as he applies pressure to the bundle of nerves, swiping his print back and forth. It’s overwhelming, and you can’t help the way your hips jolt as you feel him attempt to breach your entrance with the head of his cock.
“Stop moving,” Mills orders, hand wrapped around his dick as he sweeps through your folds. You’re sobbing now, tears welling in your eyes as he continues to abuse your swollen clit. He slips again, dark eyes flicking up to your face when your hips jolt upwards to chase his touch, the build of your impending orgasm catching you off guard with how quickly it seems to blossom. The third time, when the tip of his dick notches the inside of your thigh rather than taking root, his patience snaps.
Mills suddenly draws back from you, removing his hand from your clit before bringing his open palm down on your throbbing cunt with a brutal slap. Pain bows through you, blending seamlessly with your bliss and causes a sharp, high pitched cry of his name to tumble from your lungs. In your shock, your hips momentarily still. Taking advantage of your dazed state, Mills quickly lines his pulsing cock against your cunt and drives home, swiftly ramming into you with an abrupt snap of his hips.
A haggard gasp rips through your throat at the sudden intrusion, the painful stretch of his cock cracking through you and making your eyes roll back. Dirt cakes under your fingernails as you grasp feebly at the damp soil, trying and failing to find any kind of purchase to ground yourself.
“Take it,” Mills orders, his gruff voice impossibly reaching lower octaves as he pushes his length further into you. He sits back slightly, his eyes almost pitch black with how his pupils swallow them up as they settle on your cunt. Fascinated, he watches your lips stretch around his girth and paint his protruding veins with your slick. “Make it fit— Shit!”
His crude growl scrapes your eardrums as he bottoms out inside of you, hips flush with your own. You can’t breathe, feeling as though he’s big enough to settle amongst your lungs. You heave shallow breaths, your head pulsing with mind-numbing dizziness.
Then he’s moving. He drives forward at first, reaching depths inside you that make your abdomen ache before pulling out of you. The stark emptiness he leaves you with is short-lived, thrusting forward and stealing what little oxygen you had swallowed down.
Heat simmers through you with each shred of the head of his cock against something blinding inside of you. It gives you no room to think, to move, the cruel pace Mills sets. It’s merciless, pummelling into you and driving you up across the forest floor. “Fuuuuck, that’s good,” Mills groans loudly, holding on tight to your hips to prevent you from sliding away from him. You sob brokenly, hitting his chest with the heel of your palm as you struggle against the orgasm that’s practically hurtling towards you. Christ, his dick is so hard, ramming through you and pushing up against your cervix and causing a delightful ache.
The wet sounds of him thrusting into you are obscene, slick and desperate as he begins to pull you down onto the snaps of his hips. Fat tears stream down your cheeks, collecting in your hairline as you sob his name over and over.
“Look at you,” Mills practically snarls, eyes set on the bulge in your lower abdomen and in awe of what he finds there. Fuck fuck fuck. You can see him, see the outline of his cock driving in and out of you through your abdomen. “Mine.”
Through your haze, you feel Mills press his giant palm against your abdomen, feeling himself twitch and thrust inside of you. His forehead drops against your shoulder, hips beginning to stutter as your walls flutter around him.
It’s overwhelming; the intense pace, the brutality of his thrusts, the way your clit brushes against the pubic hairs on his lower pelvis. You sound fucking wrecked, wails spluttering with each devastating rock of his hips.
“Aha-ah- ohfuck,” you babble, eyes rolling back as your body curls inwards. You’re burning, tightening, your orgasm creeping across the pit of your stomach. “I-I’m gonna-“
Mills groans loudly, and your back arches suddenly when he bites into your collarbone. His teeth sink into your flesh, hard enough to draw blood, and the pain shoves you right over the ledge you’d been dancing over. You cum with a scream of his name, clamping down around his cock as ecstasy surges through you from head to toe. Your vision blurs, hearing cuts out.
“Shit,” you hear him spit distantly, despite the close proximity to your ears. Mills’ hips push up deep inside of you, his body lurching and trembling as he cums inside of you. It feels, even in your altered state of consciousness, like it takes forever. Milking him endlessly, his breath shuddering against the wound on your clavicle as he gently grinds into you to ease himself down from the high.
There’s no movement, no sudden release of your body and flopping to the side. Mills stays stuffed within you, your mixed cum dribbling down the inside of your thighs as he squeezes the flesh of your hips with his palms.
Your sobs of his name had been loud, noisy enough to draw in all kinds of lizard creatures, but Mills seems insistent on remaining like this, scraping his teeth across the curve of your shoulder and beginning to rock into your swollen cunt again.
“There’s a few hours before nightfall,” he talks over your garbled string of noises, overstimulated and exhausted from the hours of running and the brutal way he had fucked into you. “You can take me again before then, can’t you, Sweet Thing? Before we head back to the ship?”
Your body resigns to his question, already far too wearied and submissive to argue what feels more like an order than a question— besides, bliss is already pooling in between your thighs when he pinches your clit with the pads of his forefinger and thumb.
“Good Girl.”
END
Join the Tag List
Misc Character Taglist: @glassbxttless, @peachyproserpina, @pansa-1-san @htccu7gho9
Summary: (#30 on this prompt list. ) A rainy day with your roommate and best friend, Adam, turns into a bit more.
Pairings: Adam Sackler x Reader
Word Count: 1,250
A/N: I am terrible at summaries. This is purely self-indulgent because I am trash for Adam Driver and wanted to write something involving him.
Please do not repost or redistribute my work! Reblogs are welcome!
It had been pouring rain all day, so your plans to go shopping sounded less fun than they had when you made them. Instead, you threw on your favorite pair of joggers and a long-sleeve shirt that you stole from your roommate and best friend, Adam. Your plan was to order delivery, watch your favorite guilty pleasure shows, and maybe do something creative, but you’d only do it from the comfort of the couch.
You had gotten situated on the large sectional and just grabbed the remote when you heard the front door opening, followed by a groan. Looking over, you saw Adam in a soaking wet jacket, his hair dripping, and a plastic bag in each of his hands.
“Why didn’t you drive?” you asked him.
“I did. This was just from the trip from my car into the building.” he replied, kicking his shoes off.
“Why don’t you go get changed? I’ll put your clothes in the dryer.” You said, standing up from the couch.
He set the bags he was holding on the counter and shrugged out of his jacket and jeans, right in the entryway. “Don’t look in those bags yet.” He said before going down the hall to the bathroom.
“Noted.” You chuckled softly as you grabbed his discarded clothes and headed to the laundry room to get them in the dryer.
Adam came behind you and put his jeans and shirt inside the dryer with his other clothes and a towel. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet, I was thinking about ordering something.” You replied, getting the dryer started. “What are you hungry for?”
“Order whatever you want. Pizza?” he replied, slowly walking backwards out of the room.
“Pizza’s good.” You nodded, following him out of the room.
You followed him into the living room and sat back down on the couch, grabbing your phone so you could order pizza. It came about forty-five minutes later, and you both ate while watching a rerun of Law and Order. After you both cleaned everything up, Adam grabbed the bag from the counter and brought it over to the coffee table. He set it down and sat next to you, gesturing to the bag.
“What?” you asked.
“Open it.” He said.
You looked at the bag and then back at him. “Is it gonna jump out at me or something?”
“No, nothing like that, just open it.” He shook his head.
You leaned forward and opened the bag, looking inside carefully. You pulled out adult coloring books, markers, colored pencils, and crayons. Then you pulled out your favorite snacks and two puzzles. “What’s all this for?” you asked, turning to look at him.
“I know you said you were supposed to shop, but I know that whenever it pours like this, you like to stay home.” He shrugged.
“Adam, you didn’t have to get me all of this.” You smiled.
“I know. Technically it’s not all for you though, I already claimed this one.” He said, grabbing one of the coloring books.
You watched him as he moved to the floor between the couch and the coffee table, wasting no time opening the markers and pencils. “You’re staying home on a Saturday night to color with me and do puzzles?”
“Why’s that so hard to believe?” he asked and looked up at you. “Come on.”
You smiled, shaking your head as you moved to sit next to him. “Adam, this is…thank you.” You nudged his arm gently.
“You’re welcome.” He said and nudged you back.
The two of you colored before switching to the sketchbook and trying to draw the strangest monster you could both come up with. While you did so, you chatted about a little bit of everything, joking, and discussing deeper topics. After finishing a page in your coloring book, you leaned back and watched him, he was taking his time with a drawing, and you couldn’t help but smile.
He looked over at the pile of markers and noticed you watching him, so he looked at you. “What?”
“Nothing.” You shrugged. “This just means a lot to me. I know it’s not a huge thing, but it still means a lot.”
“Well, you mean a lot to me so making you happy is a mutually good time.” He said and picked up a marker.
It caught you off guard. You both were close, and you were sure there were mutual feelings between you two, but neither of you acted on it. “You mean a lot to me too, Adam, and I love you.” You smiled.
“I love you too.” He said and began coloring another spot on his coloring page.
“I’m gonna find a way to pay you back for this, you know.” You said and started coloring a spot on your coloring page.
“You already have.” He shrugged.
“How?” you asked and looked over at him. You both did plenty for each other, that’s what friends did. He watched terrible horror movies with you, you took him to auditions and listened to his rants when they didn’t go well. Neither of you felt obligated to, you just did it. But this seemed like a special circumstance.
“I had nothing to live for, but then you came into my life. So, thank you.” He deadpanned, looking at the markers to pick another one.
You looked at him and smiled some. “Yeah right.” He said it so nonchalantly, you thought he was joking. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” He said and looked over at you.
He wasn’t joking about this. “Adam…”
“I’m serious.” He said.
You didn’t know what to say to him, so you pushed the coffee table back gently and knelt in front of him. “You never told me that.”
“Well, I didn’t know how you’d feel about how I feel about you.” He shrugged.
“What if I felt the same way about you?” You asked softly.
He looked up at you, tapping a marker against your knee gently. “How do we feel?”
“Like there’s something more than friendship here.” You said. Maybe it was the cozy feeling of the night, or maybe it was him being vulnerable with you, but it felt like the time to get everything out in the open. “Is that how you feel?”
He sat up and put his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb running along your jaw. “I don’t have arts and crafts night with just anyone.”
You smiled and leaned into his touch. “Aren’t I special?” you teased.
“I guess.” He teased back.
“Is this gonna make things different between us?” you asked him, your hands resting on his chest.
“I hope so.” He nodded, leaning in slowly.
“Me too.” You whispered, leaning in to close the space between you.
He pressed his lips against yours, his hand moving to the back of your neck to bring you closer to him. You moved your hand to his collar, holding it gently as you kissed him back. It was like a weight had been lifted between you.
You broke the kiss slowly to take a breath, smiling as he kissed along your jaw. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked and looked up at you, his free hand moving to rest on your hip.
You didn’t know how to put your feelings into words. “Everything.”
He nodded and kissed you gently. “Thank you, too.” He kissed you again and then looked up at you. “I’m still gonna win our monster drawing contest.” He grinned.
hello lovely friends! welcome to my sextember event post :)
sextember itself will begin on friday, september 8th and will end on saturday, september 23rd (event duration: 2 weeks).
the requesting period for sextember will be open from friday, august 25th to friday, september 1st.
despite the requesting period being open before the beginning of sextember, all the pieces themselves will be released within the two week event period.
please let me know by either commenting on this post or leaving an ask in my inbox if you'd like to be tagged in the sextember event pieces. I won't be doing any character-specific taglists, it'll just be a general event taglist.
below the cut, I'm gonna be outlining all the characters and content that are acceptable for this event. this will serve as the "request FAQ" for sextember in particular, so if you're planning on requesting, please read the stuff below the cut or else you risk your request being deleted.
I’m so, super duper excited to write all your wonderful ideas and I can’t wait to read them all come friday!!
tagging a few friends for attention :) @babbushka @safarigirlsp @mrs-zimmerman @clydesfavoritegirl @mythrielofsolitude @rynwritesstuff
guidelines for sextember requests
the sextember "golden rule" - your request MUST include something autumn-themed (no halloween stuff). read more below on the types of things I'll accept as autumn-themed.
pairings: I only write female reader characters and heterosexual (M/F) relationships.
characters: Clyde Logan, Flip Zimmerman, Charlie Barber, Jacques Le Gris, Commander Mills, Adam Sackler (depends on request).
content: as the event title suggests, all pieces will contain smut in some capacity but there will be a variety of "intensity" in said smut and will have something for almost everyone.
the range of smut content could include...
heavy making out (making out w/ some touching), dry humping/grinding, handjobs & vaginal fingering, oral sex, p in v, kinky content.
my no-no's are...
rape (consensual noncon is okay). under 18. kinks involving extreme violence or brutalization. cheating (main characters cheating on one another). dd/lg. age play. pet play. pegging. strap-ons. male lingerie. anal play/sex. scat play. feeding kink. religious services, ceremonies, celebrations of any kind.
autumn-themed content: could involve an autumn setting (ie. a pumpkin patch, hayride, pumpkin carving, etc), an autumn item of some kind (ie apple cider, pumpkins, comfy sweaters, etc), and/or movie viewing (ie a spooky movie viewing). really, just something that’s autumnal in nature, I’m not super picky. just as long as it’s not something halloween, it’ll fit the event lol.
