#90% of the detail hidden by lighting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deathbecomesthem · 6 months

Text

No Shelter 1

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Partner!Reader | 3.2K

Series Setting: 1999 Los Angeles - No Upside Down AU

Summary: You are Eddie Munson's partner of 12 years. You've been together through everything. You managed Corroded Coffin while they were establishing themselves. But who are you? When you look in the mirror, you only see yourself through Eddie's eyes.

This is a series about being lost in a relationship, and seeing if there's a way to find yourself without tearing it to pieces. This is also a story about being queer and very in the closet. (It's the 90s)

Warnings: Angst, drinking, breaking things in anger, secrets, Eddie will have sexual trysts in future installments that are not with the reader (not cheating), and allusions to smut in this chapter. (There will be more smut in future installments. I don't expect it to be overly explicit, but will use the appropriate warnings when I get to those parts.)

A/N: This is not your typical rockstar story, so be prepared to be disappointed if you're looking for immediate debauchery and cheating tropes. *This story has been posted on my other blog previously. I think it fits better in this space, so I'm moving it over to this corner. In short - I do what I want, and this is it.

---

It’s been creeping up for a while now. Possibly forever. It’s quiet and sneaky, somewhere very deep inside. Somewhere you’ve hidden it away, kept it out of the sunlight. You keep it in the deep and dark places. You keep it secret and safe. It thrives in the shadows, it gobbles up the light and good things. It feasts on the happy times. When you see him again after months apart. When his arms wrap around your body and hold you close. Those are the things that used to be a comfort. Used to feel like home. But that thing inside – dissatisfaction - has twisted your comfort. Made you realize your home isn’t built on a firm foundation, but on the moving sands. The tide’s rolling in, and the stilts under the floor are sagging. It won’t take much more than a stray wave for them to buckle. A loose bolt threatens the whole structure. The strong grip of Eddie’s hands, his need for this home to stay upright, is not enough to keep the walls from falling.

–

It’s Sunday night. Tomorrow he leaves again. This time for only 3 months. Only. There was a time when his absence for more than a couple of weeks would send you into a grief spiral. That was how it happened, how you became an essential member of the team. It was meant to keep you with the boys as much as possible, just some light personal assisting work. But then, it was suddenly so much more. You were the one that did the bookings. You were the one that made sure it was exactly how it should be, down to a case of Mountain Dew before the shows, and the case of PBR after, and every other detail in between. You hired costume designers. You talked to the lawyers. You made hotel reservations, and eating arrangements.

Hiring Terry last year was a nail in the coffin. The first nail. Eddie didn’t understand why, after this many years, you needed to step down. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t give him a reason, any reason, for abandoning the band. Your argument, if you could call it that, was that you weren’t abandoning them but you were putting them in the hands of a professional. Besides, you had your own project on the horizon. In the way that Eddie does things, he pouted and then accepted. He came to grudging terms, and then it was all fine suddenly. You knew why. He loves you, and he needs you, not as the band’s manager, but as his one and only. His paramour. His light. His life. His home. His everything. His.

You stand in the small bathroom that sits adjacent to the master bedroom of your modest home. Modest for a rock star, extravagant for a couple of kids from a trailer park in the middle of Indiana. You look at your face. It’s not the lines at your eyes and around your mouth that set you on edge. It’s not the way that your once firm skin looks a little looser than it did when Eddie first cupped your cheek and told you how beautiful you are. It’s the way you can’t see yourself in the reflection. The mirror reflects a face you do not know. It’s something behind the eyes. You think if you could get close enough to the glass, you might be able to see a different set of eyes peering out from the pupils that face you in this reflection. That’s not me, you say out loud, but inside your mind. You want to scream it. You want to throw your ornate metal hairbrush and watch the glass crack into a hundred pieces. You want to scatter that wrong face all over the basin in front of you.

You won’t scream, because Eddie is in the bedroom. He’s laying under the quilt that you had specially made for him by a seamstress in New York. It’s macabre and matches the drapes that have been dyed to appear to have blood stains splattered across them. It was fun at the time, but now the theme sets your teeth on edge. Eddie is completely satisfied in his space, his readers sit on the end of his nose. That nose that you’ve loved so well. You’ve kissed the tip of it thousands of times while gazing into his beautiful eyes. Those eyes that you’ve looked into while reaching the highest peaks of pleasure, and the deepest trenches of grief. You know him. Every piece of him, and you love him.

Why isn’t it enough anymore?

Dissatisfaction. It’s the word that swims in your mind when you wake in the morning and when you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night. The soft silk fabric against your skin offers no real comfort. The big bed, the one you purchased after months of looking for the perfect one, does not hold you like it used to. The warmth of your man next to you, the low hum of his breathing, the whispers he sighs while his mind sleeps do not light you up. They do not make you feel held and safe. They make you feel trapped. They make you feel alone.

His arms used to be your comfort, but now they feel like a cage. Maybe they always have been. Maybe you’ve grown to resent the prison you placed yourself in all of those years ago. You resent the way he needs you. How can he need a thing that isn’t real? You touch the cool glass of the mirror and run the tip of a finger along the lines of your features. Who is she? Who is this person? Is she anything more than what she can offer to him? Has she ever been?

“Terry called while you were still in bed, told him you’d call him as soon as you got up.” You tell Eddie as his slow-moving form moves to your end of the kitchen. You’re pouring coffee into a travel mug, while his arms travel around your waist. His nose finds its favorite place, the crook of your neck. You feel the air move against your skin as he breathes you in. This is what he does every morning that you’re together, he holds you like this. In this moment, he is home. He is safe. He is loved.

“I don’t give a fuck about Terry right now. Where you goin’, sugar? You leavin’ me?” Eddie’s gravelly voice is spoken directly through the skin of your shoulder. He’s leaving again tomorrow for the second leg of the tour. You know that’s why he’s extra clingy, why he’s holding you too tight. Why his lips are traveling along your collarbone in that way that makes your knees buckle.

“I have an appointment, baby. I’m sorry. We’ll have dinner tonight, ok?” You keep your voice airy. You give his wrists a squeeze and a gentle rub of your thumb before working your way out of his hands. You turn your face to him, rest your forehead on his chest and search for any bit of comfort that can offer you. It’s hollow for you, but it means something to him.

“I can go with you, if you want.” Eddie’s voice has a hint of a plea, a need.

“No, you call Terry back. You’re leaving tomorrow. I’ll be home later, baby. I promise. I love you, Ed.” These words are true, and you reassure him by looking into his eyes. You place your hand on his cheek and let him rest there for a moment before pulling away and grabbing your bag and coffee. You leave Eddie, your baby boy, in the middle of the kitchen of your shared home as you walk out the front door.

You have no appointment today. The sun shines on you as you step into the day. It’s bright already and sweat begins to form in the crease of your elbows and knees before you even make it to the front door of your car. The Corvette was a Christmas gift, something that suits the weather of your current home any time of the year. If you were still in Indiana, it would be even more ridiculous than it already is to own something like this. The house is modest compared to the cars and bikes the two of you own, most of which sit in a garage outside of town that rarely gets visited. The Corvette is yours, and you think about how you’ll go about keeping it if – if what, exactly? If things change, maybe keeping the Corvette will be that last of your worries.

You let the fantasies run riot through your head while you let the tires spin through the hills, taking turns like a dream. Eddie decides to start fucking one of his groupies – no, that thought is like a shot through the heart. Eddie tells you he wants a break – best case scenario that will never happen. You tell him the truth – how can you tell him the truth when you don’t know what the truth is?

You think about sitting down with Eddie, your best friend and lover of over a decade, and telling him that you’ve started renting a studio apartment in the arts district. That when he’s on tour, you leave the big house, and never step foot in it again until he returns. That your skin looks wrong on your body. That his embrace brings no comfort anymore. That you, Eddie’s home, has an infestation of resentment, and it’s threatening to crumble at any moment.

It’s been worse lately, since Eddie and Terry have started fighting. Whispers between Eddie and Jeff about reinstating you as an interim manager if they fire Terry have put you right on the edge of a breakdown. You’ve done your time for them, and you love them all, but you’re done taking care of their shit. Except. Except that you’re not done taking care of their shit. That’s what you do, and it’s what you’ve done for so long. Saying no feels like abandonment. And that’s how he’ll see it, not Jeff, not Gareth, but Eddie. Eddie will feel abandoned. The others will understand. You’re not their home. They don’t need you in the same way Eddie does, as his shelter.

You pull your car into the parking garage attached to the building that butts against the studio. You park in your spot, $50 a month. You walk up to the elevator and make your way to the top floor. You use your key, the one you keep on the keychain in the zipper pocket of your purse and open the door of your place - $900 a month. You walk into the living room where a couch - $300 – sits next to a high-end stereo system - $1,200. You walk to the small desk in the corner facing the windows and turn on the iMac - $1,300. The rest of the space is empty. The couch is where you sleep when you stay here. The kitchen has a refrigerator and a microwave, no other appliances come with the unit. An oven is on your list of things to get, but it can wait. It’s not that you don’t have the money. The money hasn’t been an issue for a long time now.

Every purchase feels like a betrayal. The bank account, secretly opened months ago, is something that no one knows about. You know that you probably don’t even need a secret account with your maiden name attached to it, Eddie never looks at the finances. He trusts you completely. You take care of these things, and there’s more than enough to go around. You can have anything you want. Well. You can have anything that money can buy. He would say that to you, and he would mean it. But this - this is not something he would ever consider.

You sit on the couch. You pick up the remote control and turn on the stereo. You hit play on the CD player and listen to the discs shuffle before the sound of Chris Cornell’s ethereal voice sings out to you from the speakers positioned around the room. You close your eyes and let yourself be in that place for a few moments before you begin the work you can only do alone.

Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin, Playgirl centerfold, and recently guest hosted an episode of MTV’s Loveline (where his monologue about cunnilingus was so censored, the station had to cut it completely) cannot stop staring at his telephone. Is he angry? He doesn’t know. Mostly, he’s fucking terrified, but that idea doesn’t reach him. How can he be so sure about something, someone, and it’s not real? How can you, the only thing in the world that he truly knows and trusts, be false. If you’re not real, if you’re sneaking like this, then who is he? What does it mean?

It brings him no satisfaction to pick up that bulky piece of plastic and throw it against the wall. To watch broken pieces of plastic spray across the fine Persian rug that you purchased 3 years ago for $5,000. The cost of it is the first thing that moves across his mind while he looks at the thing. And he wonders, has he not always given you everything you could have ever dreamed of? Has he not held you tightly in his arms and loved you with every piece of him? Has he not sung songs about your beauty in front of thousands of people for years and years and years?

Yes, he has. And yet, you do this. The pain is intense, and it twists inside of him. He can’t allow that pain to take over, he can’t let it touch him. Not now. Not when he should be packing his shit. Not when he should have you here with him right now. You should be letting him drink you in, love you, cherish these rare moments of being together. Instead, you hide. He looks at the paper where he’s scribbled down the address. Terry told him about the apartment after checking in on some odd financial reports. Terry even hired a PI that specializes in this kind of research. Terry is a fucking prick, but Eddie knows now. He can at least give him that.

Eddie’s mind is flooded with thoughts as he moves through the house. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, he just knows there’s something. There’s a clue somewhere. What did he miss? There’s a thought that keeps floating to the surface of his brain that threatens to make him crumble completely. He keeps pushing it back, avoiding it. It hurts too much to think about. It can’t be that.

Is there someone else?

–

You stay in your apartment too long. The sun is hanging too low in the sky. The hands on your wrist watch tell you that it’s late enough, and your stomach growling tells you that you skipped both breakfast and lunch. Foolish. You consider calling in Chinese and snatching it up on the way home to share with Eddie, it’s his favorite, and you remember that the apartment doesn’t have a telephone hooked up yet. It’s one of the reasons you like it here so much - no one knows how to find you. You have a mobile in the glove box of the Corvette, but you never use it. Eddie has one too, but the both of you view the devices as obscene, only to be used in a severe emergency. Being a bad partner is not an emergency.

It’s so easy to get lost here. You moved all of your old things, your journals, your music, your letters, into the apartment the same week you signed the lease. The original idea was to have a space to dive into the past. Sophia had come to you with a proposal. She wants your memoir. A publisher is interested in the behind the scenes details of the life of Corroded Coffin’s former manager and current partner of Eddie Munson. They say they want your story. What they want, though, is the story of Eddie and the boys seen through the eyes of a bystander.

What you found when you dug into yourself, into your journals, your old songs, was a person you have forgotten. What you found was something you had well and truly lost along the way - yourself. There were things in those journals that show hopes and dreams that look nothing like the life you’re living. Your face in the mirror is a shade. A person living in the shadows of someone larger than life.

Eddie. Eddie “The Freak” Munson. Eddie Fingers. The man with the diamond tongue. Eddie Munson, who once spent a year in prison for murdering a cheerleader when he was 20 years old and a third year senior. His story is legendary. Your story is a thread within his finished piece.

Right now, you need to get back to him, because you said you would. Because he needs you. He’s leaving tomorrow. He’ll want to hold you close and tell you about how much he worships you. He wants to tell you that, without you, he’d be nothing. Less than nothing. He needs to let salty tears run down his cheeks while he’s inside of you, while he’s searching for his home. You’ll let him, and you’ll search that place between the two of you for some kind of comfort. You’ll tell him the truth, that you love him fiercely, that he’s everything, that no one in the world is like him.

And it will leave you feeling empty.

–

You power down the iMac that sits at the tiny desk in the corner of your apartment before clicking off the lights. It’s almost dark now, and you’re cursing yourself under your breath. He will surely have questions, so you begin to formulate a story. Maybe you ran into someone downtown and decided to get coffee. Yes, that will have to do, even if it’s thin. Eddie might think it strange, but he trusts you. He won’t think it’s a lie.

You slip your bare feet in the sandals you left by the big blue door at the entrance of your apartment. You check your bag, make sure you have the essentials, and unzip the inner pocket to bring out the secret apartment key. You unlatch the chain, you unbolt the lock, you turn the knob, and you see the world you know crumble apart.

“Eddie.” You manage to whisper out his name before the air is sucked out of your lungs. You can’t breathe. The smell of whiskey is coming off of him in waves, and you see dried blood on his knuckles. It’s a combination of sights and smells that you haven’t seen since that first year the two of you were together, and you feel your chest tightening.

The tide has finally reached its arms up into the sands of your beach, and you’ve been dragged under.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x queer!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson au

45 notes · View notes

rpgsandbox · 9 months

Text

kickstarter

Perils & Princesses is an adventure game played with paper and pencils, a few fancy dice, and your collective imaginations. The rules are inspired by a long tradition of pen-and-paper role-playing games, but specifically-designed to be easy to pick up and get you started on an evocative gritty, pretty, magical adventure.

Remember that scene in Snow White & The Seven Dwarfs when our hero runs off into the deep dark forest, narrowly avoiding the pitfalls and horrors within? Or when Dorothy Gale throws a bucket of water in the face of the Wicked Witch? This game is all about the humble moments of heart and heroism of storybook princesses.

These adventurers rely on baskets of goodies, trusty hatchets and their hidden talents to help them on their way. The gifts from their Fairy Godmothers help them call upon woodland animals, sing enchanting songs or connect with the elements of nature as they dig deep to survive the perils that await them.

Get some friends together, create your character and take your band of fairy tale heroes on a dungeon-crawling, monster-slaying adventure.

If you're a fan of Grimm's Fairy Tales, animated Princess Movies, and Classic Storybooks where plucky heroes use their resolve and wits as they undergo fantastical adventures, then this is your kind of TTRPG.

The mechanics are rules-light, and focus on simple magic, teamwork and creativity. This game works as a stand-alone but is easily adapted to your own OSR and NSR style games, pre-written adventures, settings and dungeons of all sorts. In the game book you’ll find: • Streamlined system, friendly for newcomers, while still being rich with atmosphere for veterans looking for a new world to explore. • 8 fairy tale character classes with a wide range in fairy tale abilities. Based on the gift given to you by your Fairy Godmother, you could have an enchanting voice, an animal sidekick, or a connection to the elements that helps you thwart the perils that lay ahead.

• Random tables to generate characters and outfit them with adventuring gear, storybook trinkets and enchanted relics or quirky weapons.

• Bestiary full of Rot Goblins, Hedge Witches, Dragons, Trolls and Pixies and Unicorns for GMs to spring upon the princesses. • GM tools to quickly improvise encounters, treasures, NPCs and all the little details to bring your fantastic world to life.

• Intro Adventure "The Rosewood Crown" with a backstory, plot hooks and a dungeon crawl to get your adventure started whether it's a one-shot or a a jumping off point for a larger campaign. Easy to follow instructions help new GMs run a session with only minimal prep.

Princesses are specific kind of fantasy character. Regardless of gender, they are fairy tale adventurers that rely on emotional resolve and cleverness more than physical strength. Your character can be any gender you choose.

What ties them all together is that all princesses start with a Gift from their Fairy Godmother. Their Gift and their special abilities grow as they level up in their adventure. Whether it's an enchanting voice, a wild heart, powerful friendship or kitchen magic, each character archetype brings their unique talents to the adventure.

Both the Digital and Print edition of Perils & Princesses are brought to life with whimsical layouts that are part medieval collage, part midcentury storybook, part childhood doodle. This book is full to the brim with 90 pages of hand-drawn illustrations of princesses, monsters and fractured fairy-tale magic.

Tables full of magical items, spells, mishaps, wild mushrooms, unpredictable potions, enchanted weapons and more help GMs quickly immerse the players in this mystical fairy tale adventure. Quick reference rules will be printed on the interior covers making the book an easy to reference while playing.

The game book is digest sized (5.5in x 8.5in) and perfect bound. Final Page count will be approximately 90 pages. Cover stock is 120lb uncoated with a soft paper vintage feel.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, August 24 2023 2:57 PM BST

Website: [Perils & Princesses]

#RPG #kickstarter #Perils & Princesses #Outrider Creative

70 notes · View notes

therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Text

Safe Haven (M) ~Bang Chan | Day 91.

Pairing: SpaceRebel!Chan x WitchQueen!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy AU | Sci-Fi AU | Royalty AU | Soulmate AU | Slow Burn | Mutual Pining | Angst | Smut | Fluff. Series Warnings: Third person POV · Very loose and liberal usage of Star Wars concepts (mostly to refer to weapons and tech). you don’t need to know anything about SW to read this, trust me · Physical descriptions of the main female character such as: can visibly blush, having long hair, and being short · Violence · Swearing · Mature themes and language · Original characters · Graphic smut (later chapters) · Mentions of the members of other groups (later chapters) · No one is straight, beware · Each chapter will include its own individual warnings. Chapters marked as M (Mature) either include highly detailed violence, or smut.

Chapter Warnings: graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · mentions of death · plot interwoven with the smut (kind of). Word Count: ~10k | AO3

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for a 18+ audience only. Minors do not interact. ✰This chapter has been reworked as of 16/08/2023

Previous Chapter: Day 90. | Series Masterlist. | Next Chapter: Day 92.

Smut warnings: fingering [F.Rec] · oral sex [F.Rec] · nipple play [F.Rec] · fingers in mouth · unprotected penetration [piv] (this is a fantasy world where you can trust people when they tell you they’re clean, the real world doesn’t work this way unfortunately so be careful out there!) · creampie (with no risk of pregnancy) · pretty vanilla, all things considered.

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

The facility used as ‘Dall’s base’ was a bit difficult to navigate the further away Chan moved from the main areas. The staircase to get to the upper floors was almost hidden, so it took him a while to find the doorway that finally led him to the stairs.

He took the stairs two steps at a time, until he finally reached the landing area. There was a plaque with the number three on it next to a doorway, signalling he’d reached exactly the place he’d been looking for.

When Chan stepped into the third floor, he quickly noticed the area was barely illuminated by orbs of light, and much cooler than the rest of the facility.

There were hardly any doors, so it was easy for him to spot the wall clock the Queen had told him about. As he walked by it, the hands of the clock let him know it was past midnight. He turned right, and walked for a bit until he found the only door in the entire corridor.

Chan brought his fist up to the door, but he paused right before knocking. His knuckles shook a bit on the surface, just as a million different thoughts raced through his mind.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he was going to say, he wasn’t even sure what his own feelings were at this point… As he stood there, the relentless humming that accompanied his thoughts seemed to be shaking his core from deep within.

So, before he chickened out, Chan knocked, and the door slid open to the side shortly after.

It was a modest room, with just a single bed, a couple of windows on the wall showing the greenery and rocky formations outside, and a dining table in the middle of the room, with four chairs on each side. The sliding door quietly shut behind him, and his gaze trailed from the table to the windows on the far wall, where the Queen stood, already looking at him, toying with the rings on her fingers.

Silence stretched around them, eyes looking into eyes as unspoken words crossed between them. Chan wouldn’t dare speak, he kept his mouth shut tightly, looking at her face, pondering.

The Queen was the first to break the silence.

“Are you upset?” Her voice had a barely perceptible tremble to it, but Chan noticed, just like he always did.

Her voice pulled at his heartstrings immediately. It was an involuntary reaction at this point, and the feeling provided him insight on his own feelings, the exact insight he needed to reply. “I want to be, honestly”.

Her Majesty winced a bit, but still took a tentative step forward, bringing one of her hands to rest on the back of a dining chair. “I can understand if you were”.

Chan stayed silent, crossing his arms over his chest as he just stood there, looking at her intently.

“There were many times I wanted to tell you… Because I trust you, I truly do. Because you’re important to me. But I always chickened out…” She sounded not only honest, but also genuinely distressed about it, which was something Chan didn’t find pleasant in the slightest. In fact, regardless of his feelings, he hated that she’d feel distressed at all.

With an intake of breath, she continued. “So I can really understand if you were upset”.

Chan looked at her, scanning the features of her face for a brief moment, only to finally look lower to find that thin leather choker around her neck, with the blue stone-comm hanging from it, resting comfortably in her jugular notch.

Had she been wearing it like that all this time? Wearing a matching stone-comm with a mundane rebel unit leader so openly and proudly and prettily?

Was it silly of him to feel affected by a simple accessory?

Maybe it was.

Chan sighed. “It’s not like you lied. You never lied”, he was trying to rationalise the situation, to pick every detail apart in hopes of negating the very small sliver of negative emotions in him.

“Yes… but I hid the truth, and I’m aware of this”, her fingers tapped the back of the chair, and that characteristic tinkling sound erupted from her rings upon contact. “Regardless, whether I lied or not… that’s not what I’m asking”.

He could see it in every single one of her movements, even if she was trying to hide it… She was nervous, but she still stood straight, very obviously mustering every fibre of courage she could to face this head on. And he couldn’t help but respect that.

After a few moments of pondering, Chan let out a tired sigh, taking a tentative step forward. “There’s a small part of me, a very selfish, self-centred part of me that wants to be upset, honestly”, and it was true, he knew it as soon as he said it. “But then there’s a bigger part of me that understands. This whole thing, the Alliance… is something that’s much bigger than me, much bigger than us”.

The Queen was about to say something, but before she could, Chan interrupted her.

“And…” He took another step closer. “It might sound silly, but there’s an even bigger part of me that blooms with inexplicable pride and admiration. Thinking about all the things you’ve accomplished, all that you’ve been standing for all this time… Knowing it’s been you that’s led us and helped us… It’s a lot, but in a good way”.

There was no need to filter his words at this point, no need for pretence reproach, Chan meant every single word he’d just said.

The Queen just looked at him, with her eyes slightly wide, stunned as she listened to him and digested his words. He dared not move any further from where he stood, even if every fibre of his body screamed at him to do so. Keeping the promise he’d made all those months ago was important to him. Or, at least, for as long as she wanted him to. So, he just stood there, leaving the ball in her court and waiting for her response.

The Queen was still for a moment, save for her eyes that seemed to be jumping all over his face, although not entirely in focus. He could practically see the moment his words started sinking into her, how they slowly, but surely, shattered the protective walls she’d put up around herself.

Before Chan could register the movement, Her Majesty was already in front of him, and the collision of her body against his own almost tipped him off balance. He would’ve probably stumbled backwards, had his hands not instinctively found their way to hold her waist the moment she looped her arms around his neck, and brought him close in a tight hug.

Relief washed over him immediately, like breaking the surface of water after swimming at the bottom of the ocean, like taking that first deep breath of fresh air after his lungs had been straining due to lack of oxygen for much longer than they should have. The clean smell of her shampoo, the warmth emanating from her body, the physical feel of her pressed against him… His senses were entirely flooded by her, and Chan realised then just how starved he had been.

“I wouldn’t have accomplished anything without any of you. I should be the one beaming with pride”, her breath fanned his neck as the words came out of her lips, and goosebumps immediately rose on his skin.

His eyes closed, almost involuntarily, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. The Queen was so warm, and, with her proximity, Chan felt all those unnamed emotions stir violently within him.

He couldn’t really tell how long they stood there. All he could register was her warmth, the rise and fall of her chest against his own, the feeling of his arms around her waist, and hers around his neck while they just held each other.

Eventually, the Queen spoke, barely whispering, tightening her hold. “How are you?”

“Much better now”, and he was. With just a hug, it was almost like all that grumpiness and crankiness that had been plaguing him evaporated. “How are you, Miss Dall?”

Her Majesty chuckled softly. “Much better now, too”.

Chan asked the Queen about her brother and Hoseok, about Wang Eun, Talboot, and Jenna. And, of course, about Freyja. To which she simply told him they were fine, all of them. Although, Freyja seemed to be a bit grumpy these days. Apparently, after Chan left, she was moping for a few days, and Chan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Seriously, it’s like you enchanted her or something”, Her Majesty mumbled against his neck, and Chan tried his best to ignore the feeling of her lips lightly brushing against his skin.

She asked about his friends, to which Chan promptly told her they were fine. At least, in the grand scheme of things they were…

It was honestly heartwarming, just being able to hold her and talk to her, to listen to her voice physically there with him… He’d missed her voice more than he could’ve ever imagined.

After a while, the Queen pulled back slightly, trying to not break their embrace as one of her hands cupped his cheek to start tracing small circles on his skin. “I’m sorry”.

“I know”, one of his arms unravelled from her waist so he could place his hand on the small of her back, and he started tracing circles with his thumb there in a comforting gesture. The Queen smiled at him, warmly. Her eyes moved across his face, until they settled on his mouth.

Chan closed his eyes at the action, taking a deep breath before his tongue unconsciously darted out to lick his lips. “Gods, don’t look at me like that. I’m trying my best to behave”.

He wished he hadn’t opened his eyes again. Like wind caressing a candle’s flame, his resolve wavered immediately when he came face to face with the now serious expression on her face. He was getting lost in her blown pupils, in her gaze that was filled to the brim with so many different feelings he was having trouble deciphering any of them. It was all too alluring, too intense, and the second she spoke again, her voice but a whisper, his resolve crumbled immediately.

“I don’t want you to behave, Christopher”.

Okay, fuck his promise.

His lips were on hers as soon as the words left her mouth. The Queen yelped at the sudden movement, but reciprocated his kiss with as much enthusiasm as he’d conveyed.

With a swipe of her tongue against his bottom lip, he parted his lips, and their tongues finally met in the middle. Chan’s hands were trembling a bit with excitement, and, with his palms flat on the small of her back, he pulled her impossibly closer to him, bringing their hips flush to one another.

The kiss was getting more and more heated the longer they devoured each other’s mouths, something was brewing deep within him, within his heart and the pit of his stomach. It’d been too long, just way too long without her warmth, and he, feeling a bit selfish, had no intentions of letting her go anytime soon.

Chan needed her to know. The Queen needed to know the effect she had on him even with so much as a heated kiss. There was no way she wouldn’t notice his growing arousal, so might as well own it and let her know. After all, she didn’t want him to behave, did she?

She noticed. Chan knew it the moment the first wanton moan escaped her lips, only to dissipate into his own mouth.

His hands grew bolder the more they kissed. Chan dragged them up her back to briefly caress her shoulders and the back of her neck, before he brought them lower once again, until they found comfort on the curve of her ass. Even under the light pressure he applied over the fabric of her trousers, the flesh dipped.

It was all too familiar. For a second, his mind took him into the memory of them on that night in the castle town… Back then, Chan had wanted nothing more than to kiss her and feel her up. Right now, though, he wanted so much more, and he wasn’t going to hide it. Not one bit. So, finally giving into the impulse, he gripped her ass tightly with both hands.

The action clearly caught her by surprise, if the rather loud moan that fell from her mouth when their lips disconnected by the sudden jerk was anything to go by. Chan could see it in her eyes clear as day now–the want, the longing, all the unsaid words… They were right there in plain sight for him to admire as her gaze turned darker, as her pupils dilated.

He couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that came to his face at the sight. He licked his lips, and addressed the situation with a teasing tone in his voice. “You wanted me to misbehave, witch”.

Her Majesty huffed, with a smirk of her own on her lips. Bringing a hand to the back of his neck, she pulled his face close to hers, leaving their lips a hair’s width apart to brush against each other with every word. “Do your worst”.

Chan just groaned when their lips connected again.

The Rebel Alliance, the Charmer, his crew, everything faded into muddled water as his only all-consuming thoughts were her. Even if just for a moment, he deserved to feel normal. He deserved to indulge in the woman he longed for without any regard for the outside world, and he’d allow himself to be selfish this time, even if just for a bit.

Bending his knees, he gripped the back of her thighs, and exerted just enough force to scoop the Queen up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively with the motion, and, for a brief moment, Chan saw the smile on her lips. Only for a moment, though, just right before he kissed her once again.

He moved with purpose, breaching the last stretch to the table in a heartbeat, and carefully placed Her Majesty’s royal bum on the surface. ‘May the Gods bless whoever built this table’, Chan couldn’t help but think, for it was the perfect height for her core to press right where he wanted her most.

If Chan’s brain hadn’t turned to mush yet, it would’ve probably done so at this point, when the Queen’s legs pulled him tightly against her, when the barely there friction between their bodies started fueling his need. He brought a hand under her shirt, and as soon as his fingertips made contact with her lower back, goosebumps rose on her skin. She shivered under his touch, quiet whines filtered between their kisses, especially once his daring hand started travelling from her back until it reached the soft flesh of her belly.

“This needs to go”, Chan mumbled, pulling away from the kiss, and tugging lightly on her shirt.

With a chuckle, the Queen held the hem of her shirt high on her torso, holding onto her undergarments, and pulled both items of clothing over her head in one swift motion. After placing both her palms behind her, a knowing smirk spread on her lips as she rested her weight on her hands, falling back enough to give Chan a full view of her naked form.

Chan was a simple man. When presented with consent to ogle he’d gladly take it, and took it he did… To a certain extent, he’d been desensitised to seeing Her Majesty’s cleavage–thanks to her fondness towards pieces of clothing that framed her attributes. It was a completely different story seeing her upper body completely nude.

Her tattoos painted the skin of her chest, her sternum, and her sides, leaving just the skin of her breasts and her middle bare. His attention was drawn immediately to the delicate jewellery decorating her navel and–as a complete, direct attack towards his sanity–her left nipple.

“Holy shit…” Chan dived in, finding her neck and attaching his lips to her skin. He brought one of his hands to her right breast, and groped the soft flesh, all while the Queen had the nerve to laugh, which only aggravated him more. “A nipple piercing? Seriously? With no warning? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He descended from her neck, to her collarbone, where he settled to suckle the skin.

The Queen let out another breathless laugh, bringing a hand to his hair, so she could start massaging his scalp gently. “I think it would’ve been much worse if I’d just come up to you and told you how I looked like naked”.

Chan just hummed against her skin, finally releasing her breast, only to bring his fingers to her nipple, and toy with the hardening bud.

A shaky gasp left her mouth, and her legs tightened around his middle. He pulled away from her neck a bit, so he could have a good look at her face, at her half-lidded eyes and her parted lips. Chan licked his lips, unconsciously, just as a million ideas flashed through his mind, each one lewder than the last.

Tentatively, he pinched the sensitive bud between his thumb and index finger, eliciting a surprised moan from her lips. The Queen’s head lolled back, and her grip on his hair tightened the tiniest bit. “More…”

Who was he to deny such a request? Chan dived in again, his hand kept playing with her right breast as he brought his mouth close to the left. After a deep breath, he finally laid the first tentative lick on the decorated nipple.

The quietness in the room was quickly replaced with the Queen’s quiet whines and moans. Chan focused all his attention on her chest, on the soft flesh he was fondling with his hands, and the taste of her skin on his tongue. With every moan, his heart swelled in his chest, and even if his own arousal was straining his trousers, he didn’t care. At this moment, the need to please surpassed tenfold the need for pleasure.

He wanted more, though. He wanted to make her feel good in every way he possibly could, and he was going to do just that. Chan pulled away from her breasts, and the Queen quickly pulled him to her with force to bring their mouths together.

Bracing himself with a hand behind her on the table, he tentatively rolled his hips to get some friction, and an appreciative groan fell from both of their mouths with the movement. Before she could retaliate, he pulled on her legs that had settled around his middle to set himself free.

A look of confusion crossed Her Majesty’s features, until she realised what he was doing. He–rather ungracefully–yanked her boots off, he found the button of her trousers afterwards, and undid it with a swift flick of his fingers. Chan looked up, finding her gaze looking at him, focused solely on him. Biting her bottom lip, the Queen was hiding a lewd smile, completely, and utterly shameless.

Chan just huffed out a laugh, finally pulling her bottoms–undergarments and all–down and off of her legs. Tattoos wrapped around her nude legs, too, although he already knew this from the numerous times he’d seen the Queen just in a nightgown around the castle. The memory was still burned in his brain even when it felt like it’d happened a lifetime ago. He decided then that this was his favourite look of hers–completely bare, save for her characteristic tattoos, and her assortment of accessories.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful…” Chan’s mouth quickly found hers again, and he was hoping to convey every emotion he felt stir deep within him in that kiss. She returned it in kind, feelings of her own started overflowing and spilling into him. The Queen didn’t need to say anything, with every movement of her lips against his, with every swipe of her tongue against his own, he just understood.

Pulling away from the kiss, Chan was now filled with determination, he pulled one of the dining chairs to him and sat on it, right in front of her, The action made the Queen laugh for a moment, at least until he grabbed her right leg and slung it over his shoulder, taking her left thigh in his hand so he could spread her open for him.

As soon as he gained access to the soft skin of her inner thighs, he started peppering kisses all over, leaving a sheen of wetness everywhere his mouth touched. The Queen exhaled a shaky breath, throwing her head back.

“Who’s trying to kill who now?” She taunted, falling back to prop herself on her elbows, giving him more space and a better angle.

“Now?” Chan’s eyes were trained on her seeping core, and his mouth watered just at the sight. He let the leg he held in his hand rest against the armrest of the chair, and brought a finger to collect her essence, so he could spread it generously up and down her slit with an appreciative hum. “Definitely me”.

The Queen’s snarky remark died in her throat, replaced by a sinful moan the second his tongue made contact with that sweet nub of nerves between her legs. He licked, kissed, and sucked the area as if his life depended on it, the all-consuming need to hear her moan for him driving his every calculated move. Chan had a goal, and by the Gods he was going to reach it. He was going to make her reach it.

“Chris…” Her moaning his name in such a lewd tone almost, almost made him thrust his hips forward in his seat. ‘Fingers’ was the only intelligible word he could understand, and it was honestly all he needed to hear.

Chan hummed, bringing his hand to her core, and one of his digits tentatively teased the area, getting drenched in her juices before slipping inside. Threading her fingers in his hair, the Queen threw her head back with a satisfied sigh, keeping Chan in place as he explored her, as he looked for that especially sensitive area within her walls.

He pumped his finger for a while, testing different speeds and movements to gather her reactions, until one particular curl of his finger made her legs jerk, earning him a particularly shameless moan, and a barely audible ‘Fuck, right there’.

Ah, how incredibly gratifying that was…

Chan added another finger then, relishing the satisfying stretch around them. The Queen was just so warm, and as soon as both of his digits started a rhythm, his mind quickly filled to the brim with lecherous thoughts. How she would feel wrapped around his cock, how her walls would pull him in as she found her release, the faces she’d make as she came crashing down in bliss…

His mind ran wild as he looked up at her from between her legs, with his lips pressed on her clit as his tongue drew circles on it, fully enthralled by her blown pupils as she looked back at him, by the way her chest heaved with every laboured breath, and by the moans that unabashedly came out of her mouth under his touch. Everything combined was too much, and, somehow, not enough at the same time.

“Say…” Chan placed a kiss on her inner thigh after he pulled away from her core, and his other hand found its way around her hip to rub circles on her clit. His fingers didn’t stop moving, though. They kept slowly pumping in and out of her warmth, massaging her walls, and he was careful not to let her thigh fall from his shoulder. “I reckon you can take another finger, Your Majesty”.

The Queen huffed an incredulous laugh, and her voice was slightly shaky when she spoke. “I can’t believe you’re using my title as you… As you are–Shit, I can’t even think… As you’re fingerfucking me”.

Chan chuckled, the fire deep within him increased in size, fed by the sight of the struggling, fucked-out expression on her face.

Slowing the movements of his hands, he brought a third finger to her entrance, and started carefully pushing it in. Her legs trembled as soon as his three fingers bottomed out. He continued the movement of his other hand on her clit, while his fingers remained unmoving to give her some time to adjust to the stretch.

“If not ‘Your Majesty’ then what should I use?” Chan curled his fingers up, rubbing against that sensitive spot inside her walls. “My dear? My heart? My love?” Chan emphasised each term of endearment with a curl of his fingers, which only seemed to rile her up more.

“Any–all of them. Fuck, Chris, darling, I’m so, so close. I might cry”, she was whining, her head lolled to the side, and Chan wouldn’t be surprised if she truly started crying.

Chan chuckled, sucking delicate purple roses on the few unmarked areas on her inner thigh before he removed his hand from her clit, and replaced it immediately with his mouth. His tongue was relentless, determined to get her to her peak soon, aided by his diligent fingers to build her impending release.

The Queen was going to speak, but it was almost like Chan could see the exact moment the words died in her throat, replaced with a moan. With one more gentle suck of his lips, her inner walls started clamping hard on his fingers, and the sounds coming out of her mouth as her orgasm crashed down on her was nothing short of absolutely perfect to him. He was so focused on them that he barely registered the distant sound of ceramic shattering to pieces by the windowsill.

Swears flew from her lips as he drew out the last few waves of her release with his fingers, with his mouth that was still attached to her heat, languidly licking her clit until she weakly tapped his head.

The Queen was breathing heavily, and her legs were still slightly shaky. Chan stood up from his chair, removing his fingers from her core. Experimentally–and completely on impulse–he brought them up to her mouth, which she immediately opened. Her lips closed around the three digits, and her tongue lapped up her essence, licking them clean with an appreciative moan.

Chan licked his lips, enthralled by the sight in front of him. By the Queen lightly sucking on his digits, by the flush on her face… He removed his fingers from her mouth, and replaced them with his tongue, connecting their mouths in a sloppy kiss.

With a hum, the Queen pulled away from the kiss, sitting up straighter to look him up and down while her breathing was still evening out. Taking a hold of the hem of his shirt, she brought her lips to his cheek, and pressed a tender kiss there. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Christopher”.

Chan just chuckled, ignoring the heat that started to pool on his cheeks. He pulled his shirt over his head in one swift motion, leaving his torso bare save for the enchanted ribbon around his limbs, and the stone-comm hanging around his neck.

As soon as the garment was off, the Queen pulled him closer to her by his belt, her lips attached to his skin, leaving soft pecks behind his ear, moving slowly down the length of his neck, settling on his collarbone for a moment just to trail her way up again, softly mumbling against his skin between kisses. “So good with your mouth, hm? You’re so handsome, so broad, darling, fuck… Wanna kiss you all over…”

Coupled with her mindless words of praise, everywhere she kissed ignited a rosy flush on his skin. Warmth spread from any place her lips touched, and reached those secluded areas deep within him.

Cupping her cheeks, Chan moved her away from his neck to bring her mouth to his. He kissed the Queen almost desperately, with his body nestled between her legs. His hands found purchase on her waist, and he moved as close as he could so their bare chests pressed flush against one another. The skin on skin contact fed the fire in the pit of his stomach, and, all of a sudden, it was almost impossible to ignore how hard and leaking he was.

He felt her hand then and his hips bucked forward when she pressed her palm on the very obvious tent in his trousers. He couldn’t help but groan, especially as the heel of her palm exerted just enough pressure on him. Chan was close to begging, he would admit. But before he could open his mouth, the Queen started unbuckling his belt, and frustrated huffs started leaving her lips as she clumsily fumbled with the trail of buttons on his trousers.

“Why the fuck does it have this many buttons…” was all she mumbled against his lips.

Chan just chuckled in response, pulling away. He removed his boots in two quick movements, then took a hold of the waistband of his trousers to slide them off his legs, and his underwear swiftly came off with them. He felt his cock spring up the motion, but most importantly, he felt the Queen’s curious gaze burning his skin as she looked at him.

Licking her lips, she returned her eyes to his. Slowly, her hand moved, her short fingernails lightly grazed the skin of his thigh before finding their destination for her fingers to finally wrap around him with an appreciative hum.

Realisation hit him all of a sudden, it was a splash of reality that contorted his face into an uncomfortable grimace involuntarily, which clearly made the Queen sober up. Her hand was now unmoving, but still wrapped around him. “What’s wrong?”

“Shit, I…” Chan quite literally face-palmed himself. “I don’t have any protection on me. Getting laid was clearly not in my plans for this trip. Could’ve never even imagined you’d be here in the first place”, he added the last part with a sheepish laugh.

The Queen laughed at his comment, but went serious right after. “Are you… Are you clean?” Her hand around him didn’t move, the warmth of her palm tempted him to roll his hips forward, but he didn’t. Instead, he just tried his best to focus on what she was telling him. “I am. Honestly I haven’t done this in a long, long time. Years. And even then the last time was with a girl. And, I mean, it’s not like you can’t catch anything from sapphic intercourse, but…”

She was rambling. It was kind of cute, and it brought a smile to his face immediately.

“Hey, hey”, Chan brought his hands to her hips, and he traced circles with his thumbs on her hip bones, getting her attention back on him. “We, uh… there were one too many scares at the base, and I got fed up, so now I literally force everyone to get checked regularly. Myself included, to keep it fair”.

She hummed, understanding. So Chan just continued. “So, yes. Clean. And if it makes you feel any better, I also haven’t done this in a long time”, he shrugged.

Her Majesty chuckled. “Being a rebel leader is tough, isn’t it?” She emphasised her words by tightening her grip around him ever so slightly, which made him lick his lips instantly.

“Tell me about it”, Chan chuckled. “Also, I, uh…” He could feel heat creeping up his face, but he decided to ignore it, to instead focus on the movement of his thumbs against the skin of her hips. “I’ve never really done it without protection before, if that also makes you feel any better”.

“Oh? Really?” Her thumb swiped over his tip, collecting a bead of clear fluid and spreading it around, providing special attention to his frenulum, making him shiver. “I feel like this is a good moment to tell you I’ve never… uh”, she cleared her throat, then chuckled softly. “Never had penetrative sex with a guy before. If that makes you feel any better”.

Chan was honestly surprised, both at her comment and also at the fact that they were having such a normal conversation right there, with her hand around his shaft and her juices still on his face. He realised then that he liked it. He liked it a lot. He’d really just listen to her speak to him with her hand around him, not even doing anything, at any time. Which was honestly quite the revelation for him.

So, as to not break the habit, as if he hadn’t just stuffed her full of his fingers minutes before, he decided to be annoying.

“Wow, you don’t need to charm me up, love. I already got my pants off for yo–” His words died on his tongue, replaced by a hiss when she started to slowly pump her hand around him.

“Don’t tempt me”, it was her warning tone, the one she used when she absolutely wanted him to tempt her.

“Shit, is this your idea of a punishment?” Chan laughed, incredulous.

“Not even close, I’m just too horny”, she leaned in, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “If you’re clean and I’m clean then… everything else is up to spells and potions. I’ll handle it”.

She removed her hand from around his cock, and brought it to her mouth to spread some of her saliva on it. When she wrapped it around him again, and gave him a couple of tentative pumps, he couldn’t help but swear under his breath.

“Shit”, Chan closed his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale. “Gonna have to press your buttons more if this is what I’ll get”.

“When have you not pressed my buttons?”

Fair point, he supposed.

A groan fell from his lips as his hips instinctively chased the feeling of her hand moving around him. The prospect of fucking her raw had his hips bucking forward, chasing the sparks of pleasure that started to run up and down his spine.

It wasn’t like he’d never had the opportunity to have unprotected sex, it just always felt too… personal, so Chan never took the chance the couple of times it was presented to him. Here, though, with the Queen, he wanted it to be personal. He wanted to feel all of her, every centimetre of her bare skin, for as long as she’d let him.

Her hand was too dangerous, though. Her pace was picking up ever so slightly, and he’d be damned if he blew his load right here by a handjob of all things, so Chan held her wrist in place to stop her movements, while his other hand pulled her face closer to his for a quick kiss. “Maybe next time”, was all he said as he removed her hand from him.

She bit her bottom lip, anticipation was written all over her face when he moved closer, holding his cock and bringing it to her sopping folds. The contact with her warm, wet core made him shiver slightly. His need was increasing exponentially as he coated himself in her wetness, as he used the tip of his cock to lightly tease her clit before he lined himself up with her entrance.

“You sure about this?” He needed to check. Chan really hoped the answer was yes. Like, really hoped so. But had it been no, he was ready to pull away immediately.

Her Majesty huffed out a laugh, bringing the hand that rested on his chest to his cheek, and stroking the skin there. “Yes. I’d stop you if I didn’t. Just like I hope you’d do the same”, she leaned in and kissed him, moving her hand to the back of his head to play with his hair.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he just looked her in the eyes. He briefly wondered if his face showed his neediness as much as hers did, and, if so, did she feel as affected by the sight as he did? He hoped she did…

With one last lick of his lips, he finally pushed himself in, centimetre after centimetre diligently stretching her walls around him until he was buried to the hilt. Biting hard on his bottom lip, a grunt bubbled from his chest, and his brows furrowed in concentration. “How are you this tight even after three fingers? Holy shit”.

She giggled, fucking innocently giggled at the comment as if he wasn’t buried deep within her cunt. With one hand behind her for support, and the other gripping his hair, the Queen pulled his face closer to hers, with her mouth just shy of his ear. “I thought I told you earlier, darling. Do your fucking worst”.

Oh, fuck.

Challenge fucking accepted.

Hoisting one of her legs on his elbow, and with a hand on the table next to hers for support, he thrusted his hips hard. A strangled moan fell from Her Majesty’s lips at the sudden movement, joining his own groan of appreciation.

She wanted his worst? He’d gladly give her his worst. At least, to the best of his capabilities in this unfortunate setting.

Chan’s hips snapped fast, hard, as hard as his body let him. The sound of skin slapping against skin quickly filled the room, accompanied by their shared groans and moans. The incessant, ever-present hum roamed freely in his head, growing more intense with every single one of his thrusts.

As his cock repeatedly buried deep within her, as their tongues danced with one another, he had a revelation, an epiphany, almost.

Although he couldn’t fully understand how, or why, right then, there was no doubt in his mind that that relentless hum brought them to this moment, to connect in such an intimate way.

The table was moving a bit with every collision of their hips, hindering his pace slightly. Chan hardly registered it, his mind was too far gone at this point to reason time and space. With a deep flush spreading over her cheeks, and tears pricking the corners of her eyes, the Queen certainly didn’t look any better, either.

Finally, after months of keeping his innermost thoughts contained, his mouth was just running freely. It was almost impossible for it not to, when she was so close, when she filled his heart with so much warmth, and when the pleasure he was feeling was just inexplicably unmatched.

Look at you… So pretty… So warm… Taking me so well… So fucking tight and good for me, huh? He could barely register anything that was coming out of his mouth, the words just couldn’t remain contained within him anymore, he just said anything and everything he felt like saying. He’d stay there forever if he could, with his cock burying repeatedly deep within his lover, drawing out every single moan he could until she couldn’t speak anymore.

The grip of his hand on her thigh tightened, and Chan dived in to catch a nipple in his mouth as he continued to pound her to the table. He could vaguely feel Her Majesty’s nails digging into his shoulder while she tried to keep herself steady. The sting just added another sensory input that fueled the bright fire that was burning within him.

She was very vocal, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Ever since he met her, the Queen had never shied away from verbalising her opinions, so why would it be any different with sex?

He was grateful for that. Every groan, every sigh, every moan, every comment, just let him know if he was hitting the spot, if he needed to increase the pace, or change the angle. She was an open book, ready for him to read, and he’d diligently commit to every single word.

Chan could tell his own release was close, but he wanted to feel her come undone around him. He needed it. So, in an incredible display of multi-tasking capabilities, surprising even himself, he brought his hand between their bodies to start drawing tight circles on that sweet bundle of nerves between her legs. Her reaction was instantaneous, With muffled moans, her body tensed up, and her legs started trembling slightly with exertion.

Finally letting go of her nipple, he focused his gaze on her face, and the moment their eyes met, he vaguely registered her giving him a warning before she finally came undone. Her walls squeezed repeatedly around him, and the feeling started getting more intense as he approached his own downfall.

Holding onto the Queen’s hips tightly with both hands, Chan gave a few more thrusts, until he felt the telltale signs of his orgasm almost overflowing. He might have warned her, he couldn’t really tell.

Breathless words of ‘Come on, darling, fill me up’ and ‘Stuff me full of you’ encouraged him to his end, and, with one last roll of his hips, his orgasm washed over him, coating her inner walls in short spurts until he was milked dry by her clenching cunt.

His ears were ringing, the sound mingled with the ever-present hum. His head lolled to the side, his eyes closed shut while he took deep breaths and enjoyed the last few waves of his release with a slow grind of his hips.

When Chan opened his eyes again, he was greeted by his new favourite sight. The Queen’s flushed face, with the most delicious fucked-out expression on her features, her chest heaving with laboured breaths while she looked up at him. This moment solidified within him what he’d already known for a long time, something he didn’t dare say out loud just yet, but he knew it was the complete, absolute, irrevocable truth.

Chan was utterly, madly in love. And the feeling was spreading like wildfire inside of him.

The Queen held onto him, her fingers combed the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, with her caring eyes staring up at him. Her voice was but a whisper when she finally spoke. “I’ve known since day one that you were stupidly attractive. But this…” Her hand moved down from his forehead to his chest, resting on top of his agitated heart. “This has got to be your prettiest look”.

Chan huffed out a laugh, ignoring the heat he felt creep up his face. Carefully, he pulled out his softening cock from her warmth, and quickly inserted two fingers in its place. She looked at him, curiously.

“You wanted to be stuffed full, no?” He teased, feeling immensely satisfied with himself when he saw the sheepish smile on her lips, accompanied by the deepening blush on her cheeks.

Looking down at the table, he spotted the disposable napkins. Careful not to let his fingers slip out, he brought the napkins close enough that he could pull wads of paper from the holder. He placed some right below her entrance, slowly removing his fingers to watch his own seed spill out, and onto the napkins.

Had he not just blown his load just a couple of minutes ago, Chan was certain he would’ve gotten hard right there just at the sight.

He did his best to clean her up, until finally she decided to pick up a napkin and finish the job. Chan collapsed on the forgotten chair, finally noticing the table had moved several centimetres out of its original position with a sheepish smile.

The Post-Nut clarity hit him like a truck as he sat there, and he brought a hand to cover his face, groaning.

“I can’t believe you let me fuck you on the table. Out of all the places we could’ve fucked… the fucking table, shit”.

Her Majesty just laughed. Her face was glowing with her post-orgasmic bliss, and the look certainly suited her. “I asked you to do your worst. I brought it onto myself”.

Chan chuckled, linking his fingers together with his elbows resting on the chair’s armrests. “I must confess, that’s not even a quarter of my worst”, the urgency had overwhelmed him, his own neediness and their current setting certainly rushed him. But he was fine with that, as she seemed to be. “But you’re right. It’s all your fault, witch”.

The Queen hopped off of the table, her legs were slightly shaky as she walked over to him. He had to admit that he was immensely amused–and satisfied–by this.

She brought a hand to his forehead, and released the tiniest flick of her finger right in the middle, to which he dramatically yelped, since it didn’t really hurt one bit.

Her Majesty held his jaw in her hand, with his chin resting comfortably in the warmth of her palm as her fingers lightly squished his cheeks, making him pout. “Can’t wait for the moment you get to ruin me”.

The contrast of her lecherous words and the dreamy expression on her face almost gave him whiplash, but in all the best ways possible. Chan would ruin her if she wanted, just like he’d let the Queen ruin him, too.

Her Majesty placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, right where she had flicked him. “I have to pee, be right back”.

She finally walked away from him, right towards the adjacent bathroom. On her way, she swiftly flicked her wrists, so the shattered remains of a destroyed vase could start gathering neatly on a pile on one corner of the room.

“Mind if I go in, too? I wanna freshen up”.

“Suit yourself”, she chuckled, going into the bathroom.

After a quick rinse, and a quick wee of his own because ‘Of course, Christopher. It’s important to pee after sex regardless of which genitals you have’, Chan came back out, and proceeded to plop down on the bed that was nudged in the corner of the room.

The Queen came out soon after, taking languid steps towards the bed. Tentatively, Chan opened his arms, an invitation she accepted in a heartbeat. As soon as she was settled, she snuggled closer to him and let herself melt into his embrace.

They stayed silent for a few moments, basking in their post-coital bliss, just enjoying the feeling of one another. As he traced shapes on her skin with his fingertips, Chan allowed his mind to wander, to think of a future in which this could be his day-to-day. A future where he could lay down and peacefully enjoy the company of the woman he loved…

Her Majesty broke the comfortable silence. With her face buried in his chest, her words were slightly muffled, but he still heard them. He heard them loud and clear. “I’m sure you can tell but… I missed you so much”.

Chan’s heart grew ten sizes, the mirroring of his own feelings instantly reassured him. He could’ve told her this, but he chose to tease her instead. “Oh, I could tell, alright”.

She weakly slapped his chest, to which he just laughed, and he finally poured his feelings out. “I missed you too, love. I love them dearly, but spending day and night with my seven younger friends slash brothers is just not the same”.

The Queen chuckled, removing herself from his embrace to lay on her side, with her face level to his. Bringing a hand up to his head, she lightly ruffled his hair. “You always look handsome, but I really like this look of yours”.

Chan groaned then, remembering the state of his head. “That’s how I can tell you like me for real. I look like a rooster. You should’ve never shown Felix how to brew those damn potions”.

The Queen let out a quiet laugh, but, clearly, the mention of his crewmate slowly brought awareness to where they were, and what they were here to do. Chan cleared his throat, sensing the change in mood.

“You can tell me to leave whenever you want to, you know?”

She hummed, looking at the ceiling.

After a few moments she spoke again. “That’s the problem. I don’t want you to”.

Chan held her hand, and brought it close to place a kiss on her soft palm. “Then I’ll stay”.

Her Majesty turned to look at him then, with a genuine smile on her lips that made her face light up. Chan would stretch these moments as much as he could. Although every single encounter prior to this had left him with nothing but a desperate need for her, he was determined to push through. After all, the moments were always worth more to him than the aftermath.

“So… round two?” Chan was only half joking. His limbs were still slightly achy from earlier. After all, even if he was in shape, sex was a different type of workout altogether, and it had been a handful of years since the last time he’d had it…

The Queen laughed at that, and a blush spread on her cheeks. “Give me some time. My joints are screaming at me, even if I hardly did anything”.

“Hey, you did very important things! You took it like a champ, and I’m proud of you”, he was teasing her, but he realised then that he kind of meant it.

Laughing softly, Her Majesty cuddled closer to him. She laid her head on his arm, and lightly stroked patterns on his chest as he curled his arm around her shoulders to play with her hair. Chan could feel his eyes drooping, his breathing was evening out, and sleep was certainly threatening to take hold of him as the long day finally caught up to him.

That was, until the Queen spoke again.

“I have… uh… There’s another thing I wanted to tell you”, her tone gave him pause. It was enough to snap him fully awake. She sat on the bed, folding her legs under her as she looked down at him. “It’s not really a secret… It’s just something no one knows and we don’t talk about… And now that you know I’m posing as Dall, I want you to know this, too”.

Chan propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at her, a bit alarmed, and completely unsure of what to expect. “Okay… Should I be worried about this?”

Her Majesty shrugged. “Depends on how you want to see it”.

She was quiet for a few moments, just looking into his eyes as she gathered the courage to speak. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes briefly only to open them once again. “You asked me once why I had joined the Alliance…”

Chan nodded, giving her his undivided attention. She took this as a sign to continue. “I built the Alliance because, in a way, I felt responsible for the Charmer’s existence. So I made it a point to try and undo as many of the things he’d done as I could”.

Chan blinked a bit as he let her words sink in. “How could you possibly be responsible for the Charmer’s existence?”

The Queen took another deep breath, tapping her fingers on her thigh. “The Charmer wasn’t always a murderous man, he used to be just a boy. A very jealous boy. I know this, because I grew up with him, back when I still called him my brother. You remember, right? From the tapestry? Our brother Ike?”

Chan’s eyes widened with recognition, and the washed out portrait of the Queen and the High King’s older brother appeared in his mind like a distant memory.

She continued, her gaze now trained on the movement of her fingers on her thigh. “I used to look up to him… He was skilled and knowledgeable, and overall a likeable person… Until he wasn’t. We found out much later that ever since we were born, he hated us. Even when he pretended to be caring and doting, all that time, he just hated the fact that Sol and I had been adopted into the family, because it meant he would never have the throne like he’d always wanted. He believed it was his right to rule”.

A knot formed in Chan’s throat as he looked at the Queen’s face, as tears welled in her eyes.

“So he… he killed our parents, for bringing him into this world only to give ‘what was his’ to us. That day, he almost killed me, too, but one of the royal guards was able to intervene, and right after that Ike ran away… Many years later, I found out what he was doing and I just couldn’t stand back and let him”.

“That’s…” Chan reached for her hand to hold it in his and caress her knuckles with his thumb. “That’s horrible”.

“It is”, her eyes moved from their joined hands to his face again. “In a way, my older brother died that day. So, the man that stands now as the Charmer with my brother’s face I no longer consider as part of my family. I wanted to tell you this. It’s a part of my family’s history, and it is why the Alliance is so important to me”.

Chan looked at her for a moment, taking in the calm, yet guarded expression on her face. She looked genuinely relieved to have finally told him, but it was as if she was expecting him to suddenly feel different about her after handing him this piece of information. Which was something he needed to crush immediately.

“Come here”, he pulled the Queen into his arms, and her body instantly relaxed in his hold as she quite literally let out a sigh of relief. Chan could now fully understand her reservations, her need to put the Alliance first, the need she felt to remain anonymous and keep her façade as Dall until the very end. And he truly respected that.

As they laid there in silence, with his hands softly moving up and down her arms, and hers caressing his back, a burning question arose suddenly to his tongue. The realisation that the Queen was, and had always been, Dall, finally let things he hadn’t been able to explain or understand before fall into place.

“Is this why you took us in after the crash?”

She clearly didn’t need further clarification to Chan’s question, the memory of them in the twins’ throne room must’ve been just as vivid in her mind as it was in his. “You know it isn’t odd for us to help those who get stranded on our planet… It is odd for us to keep them in the castle, though. We usually just provide them shelter in the castle town”.

She softly tapped her fingers on his chest. “When you told me why you crashed… I felt so incredibly guilty. I knew immediately you were from the SKZ unit, that I had sent you there myself, and that you all almost died because of me”.

Chan hummed. He wanted to argue, to tell her it’d been his fault, he’d been the one to make the miscalculation that eventually led to them being discovered, but before he could speak, she continued.

“I realise logically that it’s silly of me. We all come into this knowing we might die for the cause. But I think you especially would understand how and why I felt the way that I did”, she removed herself from his hold, and propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. “Regardless of what happened, you all survived. And I am so incredibly grateful that at the very least, it’s brought you to me”.

Butterflies seemed to erupt in his belly with her words. Chan brought his hand to the back of her head, and pulled her down for a kiss. He hoped all his feelings could translate into that kiss. That she could understand that he, too, was grateful that such a dreadful event had brought something good to his life–her.

The Queen returned his kiss in kind, and, as she pressed soft kisses on his lips, she moved to straddle him. Chan’s hands immediately found their way to the supple flesh of her bum once she settled. With her body flush to his, the sudden contact slowly reignited that flame of need within him.

Her Majesty broke the kiss, and rested her weight on him when she sat up. Her core was almost pressing on his quickly hardening length, and Chan’s head was starting to spin.

Her eyes were trained on him, and a playful smirk spread on her lips when she spoke to him.

“So… Round two?”

Chan plopped down on the bed, breathless, with his cock still buried deep within the Queen’s cunt as the final spurts of his orgasm filled her up.

It was a transcendental experience, truly… Blowing his load in someone… Be could kind of understand now why his friends had risked it so many times. Never before had he felt the urge to do it, but now he was certain he wanted to fill her up any chance he got. As long as she’d let him, of course.

“Not gonna destroy any vases with this orgasm, huh?” One of his hands remained on her hip, tracing circles with his thumb on her skin, while the other came up to shamelessly squeeze one of her breasts.

“Fuck”, she let out a breathless laugh. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Never. My ego is too inflated right now”, he was joking, of course. And she knew it, too–if her soft laugh was anything to go by.

With a smile on her face and her weight on him, she leaned in, and connected her lips to his. Chan hugged her waist, holding her tight against him. His heart soared, her soft pecks against his lips had warmth spreading all over within him, and heat settled on his face with her motions.

“What am I gonna do with you? You’re just too cute”, the Queen mumbled against his lips, making him giggle.

“Me?” Chan whispered between kisses, followed by a “What about you, witch?” that had her chuckling as she continued to peck his lips.

Her Majesty pulled away from him, and his hands settled on her hips again. She sat on him for a few moments as their breathing evened out. With her hands resting on top of his abdomen, she softly caressed his skin, almost absentmindedly.

“Chris…” There was a serious tone to her voice, a very serious one. Coupled with the now lack of a smile on her face, warning bells started ringing in his head. “There’s something else I want you to know”.

The abrupt change in mood gave him pause, and it was almost impossible to ignore. “What is it, love?”

“Tomorrow… Or I guess I should say today… My final mission… ” Her gaze was trained on her hands that were splayed over his abs, and she was clearly making a conscious effort to not look at him. “I might die”.

Chan propped himself up on his elbows, blinking a bit. He took a moment to let her words sink in, but they just didn’t make sense. They couldn’t make sense… He couldn’t help the flat tone of his voice when he asked, “…What?”

The Queen finally looked him in the eyes. “There’s a high chance that I’ll die today”.

He paused for a moment, scanning her face, and the gravity of the situation started dawning on him. “You can’t seriously be telling me this while I’m still balls deep inside you”.

She grimaced slightly at the realisation, slowly rising from his lap for his now soft length to fall from the comfort of her walls. His own cum pouring out from her onto him and the bed was clearly the last of his worries at this very moment.

“It’s a high risk mission. If the slightest thing goes wrong, which unfortunately, is very likely, I will die”.

Chan’s mind was racing, and anxiety and worry started clinging to every fibre of his being. But worst of all, the worry wasn’t the emotion that gave him pause. A different emotion was brewing quickly within him as she continued talking.

“There are backup plans of course, if that were to happen, but–”

The Queen’s words were cut off when Chan gripped her by the waist, and swiftly pushed her off of him so he could sit down on the edge of the bed, with his feet firm on the ground and his back turned to her.

Hurt.

The emotion bubbling over like a forgotten pot of water on the stove coating his insides with its sticky presence… Chan was hurt. Not by her specifically, but by the whole thing.

He was tired of having to deal with loss and grief, tired of this endless fight against injustice, but most of all, he was tired because it seemed like every time something good happened, every time he found something to be happy about, something just as bad came around the corner to taint it all.

Her Majesty could clearly tell something wasn’t quite right by the shift in mood, so she made no move, she just sat on the bed with her legs folded under her. She waited for him to speak, daring not to speak herself over the suddenly tense environment.

Chan had indulged in his deepest desires, he thought he’d be strong enough to deal with the aftermath, to deal with his sad, crude reality. He wasn’t. The evening filled with uncalculated hormone rushes caught up to him way too quickly, and he suddenly found himself unable to put his walls up.

“So, a goodbye”, Chan finally spoke, with a harsher tone in his voice than he had admittedly intended to use. “Is this what this is? You saying goodbye?”

“I… That’s not…” The Queen was hesitant to reply, which only made it worse.

Chan sighed, resting his elbows on his thighs. He lowered his head to his hands, and lightly gripped his fire-red hair in frustration. He knew he had to be logical and rational about the situation, but he just couldn’t bring himself to.

“Hey”, the Queen placed a hand on his shoulder, and a couple of her fingers went under the sliver of ribbon resting on his skin. At least, as odd as it might sound, the minute contact of her palm on his bare skin soothed him. “Chris, look at me”.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at her. He wished he hadn’t. The expression on her face was as pained as his must’ve looked, which only pulled harder at his heartstrings.

“This”, she gestured with a finger between the two of them. “Us… Nothing that has ever happened between us has been calculated in any way. Hell, I didn’t even know we’d end up naked on this bed when I called you here. I mean it”.

The Queen looked at him for a moment, taking a shaky breath in, only to let it out. “I need you to know that if it comes to it, I will fight. I’ll do my best to stay alive. I want to… I really want to come back to you”.

Chan looked at her, and his eyes darted around her face while he pondered.

He knew she was telling the truth, and, although her words comforted him in a way, it didn’t make it hurt any less, nor would it stop the worry and uncertainty that was now leeching onto his bones. With another intake of breath, he braced himself for what was to come, exhaling before asking,

“So, what’s this mission about and is there any way we can help?”

Author’s Note: where did all these words come from? i honestly don’t know. also, you know when you’re writing something and somehow things don’t end up as you expect them even when you’re the one writing? yea, my girl realised she could be open and just decided to open pandora’s box and drop bomb after bomb on my guy, and i just... let it happen lol. anyway if you’re reading this, i hope you enjoyed it!

Previous Chapter: Day 90. | Series Masterlist. | Next Chapter: Day 92.

#stray kids fantasy au #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #bang chan smut #stray kids smut

74 notes · View notes

oekaki-chan · 2 years

Note

Hi! Been a fan of your art since the MP100 days and DGS! I wanted to ask if there’s a chance we can see how you order your layers and in what modes? Been trying to understand how other artists approach their paintings.

Ahhhh this is embarrassing because I'm not really tech-savvy so I use clipping mask a lot instead of quick mask or gradient map or stuff like that Orz But basically I order the layers like

-----

Layer - paint bucket of color and set to a certain blending mode for the last color touch up for the overall art

Layer - finishing touch (some paint over the lineart)

Layer (clipping mask)- a bunch of colors to color the lineart (set to hard light mode)

Layer - lineart (I never use black, it's usually 90% gray)

Layer (clipping mask) - paint bucket of color and set to the blending mode you desire to make the colors look ✨fancier✨

Layer (clipping mask) - paint over to tidy things up

Layer (clipping mask) - paint over the messy colors to add more details

Layer (clipping mask) - lighting (set to linear light)

Layer (clipping mask) - shading (set to multiply)

Layer (clipping mask) - base color

Layer - a block of color so when you're coloring the colors won't get out of the lineart

Layer - background

Layer - sketch (hidden)

-----

Thank you very much Anon 😊!

#ask #tutorial

162 notes · View notes

popironrye · 8 months

Text

OC Fun Facts

So, I may have gone a little character crazy thinking of all these little fun facts for my newest babies. I don't think I've ever thought this long or this hard for such small details for any character I have.

Regardless I am super thrilled to just throw out some character facts. Please please please, share your own too. I love seeing other peoples characters. X3

Shiloh Fun Facts:

She was born in the early 90s with an angel birthing parent and an earthly mortal father.

Due to her chosen profession, Shiloh discovered after some time she can will thermal and weather patterns. It's only after she meets Aziraphale again is it revealed she has these abilities due to being part angel.

She works in London as a florist and green grocer. She lives just outside the town where she houses a large garden and greenhouse. Growing all sorts of flowers, fruits, and vegetables to sell.

She drives a light marina blue 1973 Volkswagen Beetle.

She met Aziraphale when they were just a child. Due to heavenly plotting, Aziraphale blessed them with a protection miracle that allowed Shiloh's location to stay hidden from angels. This blessing was tied to her earthly father, and as such, the miracle broke after his death.

She doesn't like coffee, instead they would inject tea straight into their veins if they could.

She loves sleeping under the stars.

Her favorite music is rhythm and blues.

Shiloh loves the beach and seafood.

Her scent is usually Rose and Jasmine with a hint of Lavender.

She's a nail bitter.

Harper Fun Facts:

Harper is only one of many names they've gone by over the years. They're name and gender expression varies every decade or so. As a gender fluid person, Harper goes by any pronouns depending on they're current gender expression.

Harper was born in the late 50s to an earthly mother and an impregnating demon.

Due to her mothers death, Harper spent much of his youth in foster care.

Harper is considered a shapeshifter. As such, they have the ability to slightly alternate their own appearance.

Harper also has the ability to take the form of anyone who willingly kisses them.

Harper is a very talented singer and musician. She can play any instrument and has made a career starting out as a busker to playing shop gigs wherever they went.

Before they began living in England, Harper owned and ran her own night club in New York. Working as a musical performer, the night scene was always loud, intoxicating, and usually resulted in copious amounts of sex. Needless to say it was a booming business.

Harper's demon half is a pleasure demon. Based on both the succubus and the siren. They use their music to influence humans around her to always guarantee they'll have an audience. Although Harper's charm is very miniscule they never use such charms to induce sexual urges in people. She's very vocal about body autonomy.

Harper drives a 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air 2 door, mostly gypsy red with a white hard top and white detailing.

Harper traveled frequently and first met the demon Crowley in England in 1977.

As a demon of pleasure, Harper has also become akin to knowing what a persons deepest desires are without even having to talk to them. She knows what they're favorite food is, their favorite holiday destination, favorite song, favorite gift ideas, etc. cause human beings don't derive all their pleasure to just sex.

She is a big coffee drinker but not without cream and as much sugar to drown ants with.

Harper has vast knowledge and a vast collection of music, but if someone were to ask her to put something on she'd pick the band Sweet, or The Clash first.

Her scent is usually an array of cinnamon, and saffron with a hint of vanilla.

She is a smoker, only drinks socially.

#good omens 2 #good omens #facts #fan character #original character #fan character idea #nephilim #angel #demon #my art

11 notes · View notes

beelicious-and-fictitious · 1 year

Text

Getting Off

❤ A Valentine's Day Special! ❤

Summary || [Walter “Keys” McKeys X Female Reader SMUT] the cop arresting you is wearing a cock ring and you get out of trouble by bending over for him.

Free City AU | 3.5k words | NO BETA/ SELF- EDITED, Swearing, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day Three + Walter McKeys + Ring,” Dubious Consent, Impersonating A Police Officer, Car Theft, Mentions of Toxic On-And-Off Relationship, Infidelity, Vibrating Sex Toy, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Manhandling, Torn Clothes, Size Kink, From Behind, Hair Pulling, Rough Sex, Creampie (Please Use Protection IRL Use Condoms), Cockwarming

More Valentines! | Other Keery Fics | Main Masterlist

Stupid fucking car. Stupid money hustling boyfriend. How hard is it to give a fuck about Valentine’s Day? It's one day a year! You have tried everything: begging, screaming, dropping hints like an anvil, sending yourself your own fucking flowers, making the dinner reservations and handing him the fuck details just so he shows up, fucking his best friend. But year after year, February 14th rolls on and your boyfriend does nothing. He was either stealing away to a basketball game, cajoling a client at his day job to buy into one of his entrepreneurships (which would fail like all the others had, or refused to leave the house gym because he had to “get swole.”

The entrepreneur shit pisses you off the most– you are professional bank robbers! Who needs a legitimate job when crime pays so well?!

So this year, you stole his favorite car! This particular make and model of super car went from 0 to 90 in a second flat, though you could tell from the way it accelerated and decelerated was weighed down by all the added armor plating. The paint job is obnoxious neon colors with the graphics from his shitty mandom podcast.

Now you could have stepped on the gas when the cop car behind you turned on their lights. You could probably make it by crossing over county lines and out of his jurisdiction. But you have had enough of car chases for a while and pull over instead. As long as your boyfriend hasn't reported it as stolen yet, you’re probably fine.

A set of knuckles wraps on the window and you roll it down. “Afternoon officer, how can I–”

“Turn the ignition off,” he interrupts you gruffly and leans down to glare at you. This part of Free City is flat and dry, no shade to hide you from the burning rays of the sun and air conditioning is the only thing keeping you from fainting, but you turn it off anyways, hoping he'll be quick about this stop given he should also be extremely hot, too.

Slicked back chestnut brown hair and a comb for a mustache. His eyes were hidden by a pair of reflective aviators (of course), his shirt collar was open at the throat in the heat and his white undershirt glowed pristinely. His big, meaty hands were tucked by the thumbs into his utility belt, and your eyes dragged lustfully back up his lean torso to his freckled, handsome face– well he would be handsomer if he wasn’t wearing the meanest fucking scowl.

“Got a hot date?,” he asks with sarcasm dripping from his voice. “That why you’re driving so fucking fast? 60’s not enough for you?”

“‘M so sorry officer,” you say, distracted by a light buzzing sound (was that his radio maybe?). “I, like, dropped my phone and stupidly tried to pick it up and my foot pressed down on the gas and, and…”

His uniform makes you double take. It’s tight on him– you only need to look at the bulge of his crotch to see that– but it’s also the wrong color for this area. That shade of navy blue is reserved for Free City’s urban jurisdiction… but he pulled you over in the sticks, nothing but desert and meth dens and old highways like the one you’re on. He should be wearing khaki, he should be a state trooper or something, right? And what the fucking is that buzzing!

“Hey,” the weird cop snapped, “I said. License. And registration, ma’am.”

Shit, shit, shit. It’s not your car and you were driving twice the speed limit and you can get in trouble anyways. “Yeah! Grabbing it! My license… but I should tell you this is my boyfriend's car, that’s why I'm not on the registration.”

The cop– his name tag says Keys– hums mockingly. He snatches your wallet from your hands and walks back to his patrol car (also weird looking, might be missing decoration on the door but it could just be your position in the sun) without waiting for you to fumble for the registration. Fuck, fuck– this wouldn’t be the first time a cop fucking robbed you, how much cash did you have in that thing this time?!

You check the rearview mirror and see nothing but the cop's head looking down in the driver's seat, possibly entering something into his laptop– fuck again. You’ve got a record– who the fuck doesn’t have a record in this fucking city– so there’s no way you’ll get away with just a warning. Even a speeding ticket was seemingly unlikely given Officer Keys shit attitude. You need to have the registration before he gets back or he’ll become insufferable.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath to calm down and pull the glove box handle, only to have it fall open and dump paper, dime bags, and guns into the passenger seat and onto the floor. “Oh, motherfucker!”

There’s a gun– there’s two guns laying on the floor of the car in plain sight and a pissy cop who will be back any minute looking for probable cause to arrest you. You rip your hand back like the guns were going to explode and your blood pressure only raises more when you realize there’s no way to dig anything resembling a registration out of that mess without getting your ass shot.

Defeated, you cover your face with your hands. Maybe you could get out of the car and drop straight to your knees. It would piss the cop off as he didn’t tell you to get out and he’d obviously fucking shoot at you but maybe he’d just graze you for climbing out instead of unloading his whole fucking clip if he finds you staying–

A shadow falls over your body, one you feel rather than see as you the boiling directness of the sunlight washes away. “UHm…”

You hear the cop sigh and pull your car door open. “Step out of the vehicle slowly and with your hands out.”

The curses flooding your brain overwhelm you. It’s fucking Valentine’s Day! You should be sipping champagne and getting your back blown out in a luxury sized bathtub, not harassed by a city cop in the desert and taking the fall for your loser boyfriend’s coke and unregistered weapons.

“I said get out of the car!” The cop grabs you with his thick hands (hands that you had, for half a second, wanted on you before you remember he’s a damn cop) wrapped around your thighs to drag you out faster.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, stop!” Shaking, you hold your hands out in front of you and try your best to roll your body off of your back on the very edge of the seat. He was the one who commanded you to move slowly, but now he was impatient and this time his big hands capture your waist, making you flinch a second before you are ripped upwards into his chest, nearly hitting your head on the low rise of the car cabin door. “I didn’t know that was in there! Jesus Christ!”

You never expected to feel hatred when a hot man’s body was pressed against your back, but today you’ll make an exception for this prick. High off his authority, officer Keys kicks the car door closed with so much force that a cool breeze kicks up among the dust. Then he slams you bodily into the hot car body and probably delights in the angry shriek that leaves you.

“You fucking asshole!” All the fear that had been bubbling in you earlier turns to anger for a moment and you try to push off the hot car to free yourself unsuccessfully.

The cop groans in response– probably the weirdest thing about this exchange, it almost sounds… sexual? “Keep talking, baby. Maybe the courts will give you a nickel and a dime to serve!”

He forces your arms up and behind your head and starts patting his belt for his handcuffs. He grunts, and this time it sounds repressed, like he was trying to keep it down… that’s when you realize the bump in his tight pants is pressing hard into you… and vibrating.

Your mouth falls open and dries up instantly in the dry desert air. “...are you wearing a cock ring?”

“What?” You can still hear him fumbling for the handcuffs, his other hand so tight on your wrists that it hurts. “Shut up.”

You push back with your hips and feel him counter you– and you would have believed it was just him being pissy about you not holding still, if it weren’t for the way his hips roll at the end. Effectively rubbing his very hard cock into your ass to get some friction. It’s embarrassing when it suddenly feels like the hot air around you is suddenly inside of you, spinning into a ball and writhing like fighting cobras in your gut.

You desparately need a way out of this dilemma and you may have found it. “Fuck me…”

The cop hummed, slapping a silver cuff on your wrist. “What did you say?”

“I said–” you pull your arms until your elbows graze the painfully hot roof of the car. Because your motion was unexpected, the cop startles and freezes when he feels your head lay on his shoulder. You can peer past his sunglasses at his indignant, brown eyes. “Fuck. Me. I don’t want to go to jail for my trash boyfriend, and you don’t want to be suspended for sexual deviancy on the job, do you? Win–Win.”

“Who said I wanted to fuck you, huh?” The cop, less angry and more amused now, tightens the other cuff to your wrist and braces his hand on your chest. “If you’re stupid enough to steal your boyfriend’s car full of illegal shit and get pulled over, who’s to say you're not stupid enough to give me a venereal disease, you little slut?”

You pout. “... I didn’t steal his car and I don’t have a disease. And don’t fucking call me a slut!”

But officer Keys just laughs at your indignance. “Open your mouth for me, cupcake.”

You do what he says cautiously and are instantly gagged by his fingers. You can taste dust on his dry skin as well as something foul like oil. It’s entirely reactionary when your teeth close around the intrusion, and officer Keys grunts and draws them back but not fully out. Now that you know what to expect, it only takes a second to relax and allow him to press his fingers deeper into your mouth again, struggling to fight back your gag reflex and remember how to take it. He’s testing you but it doesn’t take long for you to ease into it, even sucking on them and swirling your tongue for him.

“Atta girl,” the cop purrs, “yeah, yeah. Oh, I can work with this. You can deepthroat, right? You’re gonna need to be able to swallow the whole sword.”

You nod your head and then find yourself suddenly unbalanced. The officer’s fingers pull free with a wet pop and he takes a massive step back from where he was crushing you against the car. You are stopped from falling by the very strong grip that takes hold at the back of your neck and he commands you to drop to your knees. Hot car, hot pavement, by the end of this, you’re going to have burns and bruises. You delicately squat instead of kneeling, wishing you had your knee pads or a jacket to throw down for protection but Keys is already unbuckling his belt.

Your lip curls impatiently as you wait for him to finish pulling his dick out. A part of you wants to smack the sunglasses right off his face or pull his gun and shoot him, but you know it’ll do you no good in the long run. And as he uncovers his junk, the sound of vibrating gets louder. There's a wet patch on his underwear that you immediately forget about when he pulls the waistband down and his fat cock pops up.

"Jesus Christ–"you gasp and try to protect your mouth, turning away from the sight before you but unable to tear away completely.

It appears Keys is a meticulous groomer below the belt, too. The cock ring is glittery cyan blue, a ring around his balls and another around his cock making them both flushed red and veiny. You watch him twist the vibrating plate around his swollen flesh and use his other hand to pull back his foreskin.

"Hey! Tick tock, cupcake," he says as he winds his hand in your hair and starts to pull you forward. "I'm on the clock and we're running out of daylight."

Time to work for your freedom.

Gathering saliva in your mouth, you wrap a hand around the base (fuck, your fingers don’t touch your thumb) and with your other hand still cuffed, you push the vibrating plate to his balls. Keys pulls his phone from his pocket and turns up the vibe via remote app, causing his hips to jerk and leave a wet smear of pre-cum under your nose.

“Okay deep breath, baby.” The hand in your hair pushes you forward and despite the warning, you still gag when he slides right back and hits the back of your throat. “Uho, more.”

He barely pulls back to let you suck in a new breath before he’s back at it, pushing you down on him despite your squirming resistance until your nose is buried in his short pubes. Your hands drop to his thighs and your nails leave red scratches on the pale white skin, tears gathering on your lashes until you are able to take one shaking breath through your nose.

You should be mad, but the simpering whine he makes fills you with pride instead. It was impressive for you to take all that cock on one go. Your sex pulses with need and you don’t even notice your knees are on the hot pavement.

“Swallow, baby, come on,” he praises as he looks down at you, his sunglasses moved off his sweaty nose to his head so he can better.

Your jaw aches fiercely but you manage to obey and Keys’ moans at the feeling of your throat constricting his length. “Good girl, fuck.”

Finally, Keys releases you and you’re able to gasp and cough and catch your breath while you stroke him to keep him happy. Your preferences for servicing him begin to shift as you feel your underwear slicken and stick to your outer lips. The last time you had good dick was probably that bank bathroom mid-heist (that janitor was packing just like this). This cop may be a complete asshole and a pervert, but damn it a huge dick was always going to do something for you!

“Officer?” Keys looks down at you with slight disdain. He does admire the glistening drool on your chin and the wetness of your lashes, and he’s quickly distracted by your leaning back to squeeze your breast over your top. You’re going to ask him for something he fully intends to deny you until…

“I’m so wet, please please…” you bite your lip unconsciously and make him watch you touch yourself to tell him about your soaked panties. “You can fuck me as hard as you want, don’t even need a condom, baby, please…”

Officer Keys seemed to like the sound of that very, very much. He hauls you to your feet and walks you backwards twenty feet to his patrol cruiser. Still handcuffed, you can’t do much except obey and try not to trip over your own feet and fall. He keeps a tight hand on your arm as he swings open a door in the back before shoving you in halfway. You feel him yank your bottoms down your thighs and spit on your slick and puffy folds.

“O-ho, baby,” he cooes almost mockingly and runs a calloused thumb over your clit, “how bad did you need to be fucked? You are one lucky girl that I pulled you over, aren’t you?”

You try to answer him but he smacks your pussy and you shriek instead.

“Just breathe, sweetheart,” he says, stroking his length still dripping with saliva, “nice and easy…”

And then you feel the head of his cock pressed against your entrance and realize he is not going to stretch you out first even with that monster. On a long exhale, you force your body to relax but still you squeal a little as you feel him begin to fill your channel. For all his perverse snarling and coldness, he does exhibit some level of mercy as he doesn’t make you take too much all at once. It’s still a bit of a painful stretch but he moves slowly right up until he bottoms out inside you and growls loudly.

“Goddamn!” You feel him grind against your hips and the cock ring vibe bumps your clit adding pleasure over the slight pain. “Haven’t fucked a pussy this tight since the Penris Bank robbery.”

He starts moving in you, but your mind is somewhere else. Penris Bank has only ever been successfully robbed once in thirty years. You did that– I mean, you and your crew did that. Walked away with 20 mil each. Okay, your crew robbed the bank while you got your back blown out in the executive office bathroom suite. Hold the fucking phone–

“Oh my god, you’re not a fucking cop!” In the blink of an eye, you realize how blind you’ve been. How could you forget that dick? Just because it was cosplaying as a police officer? So stupid. “Fucking asshole!”

You try to struggle out of his grasp, but Janitor Keys adjusts his grip on your hips and lifts you up until your legs are kicking uselessly and he’s spear heading his cock into your g-spot. And as angry as you are, you can’t resist the coiling fire in your gut turning your arms to jelly or punching some high pitched moans out of you.

“That’s it, kitten, purr!” Keys laughs and fucks you faster. “You missed this dick, huh baby?”

You grumble and he smacks your ass so hard it stings. “I can’t hear you, bitch, did you miss this dick?!”

“Yes,” you cry and drop your chin to your chest and throw your head back when he starts furiously circling your clit. “Yes, fuck! No one fucks me like you do–”

“Fucking A’ right, baby…”

Your feet find purchase on the car floor allowing you to brace against the heavy assault and push back, taking him even deeper. If a car packed full of people wolf whistling and shouting obscenities drove by, you hardly noticed, except for Keys' prideful wave as they disappeared.

"Fuck, fuck," your stomach tightened painfully and tears gathered on your lashes. The bumping of the cock ring vibe slapping against your clit does you in and you collapse, gushing all over your partner's cock and soaking his pants.

You feel lightheaded as you are gently laid out in the backseat of the faux cop car on your stomach with Keys cock still deep inside you. It only takes him three or four thrusts before he stills with a grunt and pumps you full of his cum. One of his hands rubs your back just like he had done when he finished on your stomach at the bank.

Damn, you really had missed him.

Catching your breath, you lift your head and turn a bit, then smack him across his face. Keys looks at you wide eyed, sunglasses gone and fake mustache peeling off his upper lip.

"Ow…" He swallows and ducks his head to mumble, "okay, I guess I deserved that. Sorry."

You lay your head on your arms, feeling exhaustion wash over you as the role play ends.

"...you know if you want, you can come over to my place and uh," Keys voice drifts off as he traces shapes on the soft skin between your shoulder blades. "I've got this huge bathtub in my penthouse thanks to the cut you gave me. We can, I dunno, throw some rose petals everywhere and drink champagne since it's Valentine's day."

You lift your head again and give him a puzzled look. "Why would you do that?"

Keys is a great actor because the way he blushes now is so sincere that you almost forget he was manhandling you not five minutes ago.

"Because I like you, and you deserve it…?"

Well, if your shit boyfriend wasn't going to spend Valentine's day with you… "fuck it, sure. But you need to clean this up and tell me what the fuck you are doing in a cop uniform!"

Keys finally pulls his overstimulated cock out, leaving you empty and leaking but he massages your sore flesh to ease the slight pain. "Happy to tell you everything! We've got all night, if you want."

And he leans over you one more time to plant a kiss on your temple before climbing back to eat his cum out of you.

It looks like you are in for a great Valentine's day!

More Valentines! | Main Masterlist

So I was deadass going to scrap this entire fic several times, but I feel like I managed to work around the whole "fucking a cop" aspect. Drop a like if you liked this and leave a comment or anon ask if you wanna let me know what you liked about it!

#three bees writing #walter mckeys smut #valentines day fic #bee's archive of fiction #black reader insert #joe keery character fiction #walter keys mckeys x female reader

51 notes · View notes