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englass · 1 year

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Plains and Valleys

Pairing(s): John Seed x Deputy/Reader

Warning(s): John is his own warning; Possessive/Obsessive Behaviour; John being creepy; Stalking; kind-of Crack, this isn’t taken all that seriously; Not Beta’d; Experimental Piece; NSFW/Explicit, my first (and likely only) attempt at smut -- please kindly let me know if there’s anything else I should warn of here, I don’t know what I’m doing.

Word Count: 4,020

A/N(s): The title is basically a placeholder for while I was writing this because I had no idea what to name it... and truly, I can’t be asked to think of something better for a piece that only exists to see if I can write smut (spoilers: I can’t, but I’m not letting a completed piece rot away in my docs just because I’m embarrassed; I worked and spent time on this damnit!).

On another note, I was gonna just give this piece over as my contribution to WIP day that @derelictheretic was kind enough to tag me in, but decided against it. I’ll post a proper response and WIP later this week or next, so bear with me please hun! Just wanted to get this out there first.

- - -

John had a problem.

Well, he had many problems. Not least of all his growing frustration at the continued resistance from the Fairgraves' in his pursuit for the deed to their ‘establishment’. He also had been unable to play with Affirmation as regularly as he would have liked, so that put him in an even fouler mood than usual. And he wasn't going to even think about the stress he was starting to feel with his brother constantly breathing down his neck; always questioning his actions as though he were a child constantly getting into trouble and needing twenty-four hour monitoring, always asking after the progress of things that take time. A lot of time.

John may have a substantial amount of money at his disposal, but that does not mean he can work miracles.

Not all of the time, at least.

And his problems don’t stop there, oh no. Despite what many likely thought of him (and what a stroke to his ego that is, knowing that people think of him) John was well aware of his problems, his faults. He’d spent a lot of time getting intimate with them, after all; and every now and again they'd crop up like daisies, weeding their way to the surface yet again. He’d become rather good at managing them, if he said so himself, but even John wasn’t perfect (he was damn close to it though, as many would agree). And one fault he hadn’t quite been able to trim back was his tendency to fixate on things; obsess.

He obsesses over his plane, over its upkeep and maintenance, its flight records, the slightest scratch that wasn't there the day before-- how the fuck did that get there!?

He obsesses over the details on the manifestos he’s given, the contracts he’s made, dates and times for resource collection, rotations, their members' personal records (he denies having those), PR management, expenditures and everything in between.

He obsesses over his home, the décor, the colours and lighting, materials used, the whole aesthetic. How he presents himself, the clothes and brands he wears (it’s vain but he needs those creature comforts), his posture, his presence, his overall look that creates an identity that just screams nothing but John.

He obsesses over things.

He knows he does. It’s a faulty blessing.

And he has found something new to obsess over.

John has had a few run-ins with the local Deputies of Hope County in the past. Mostly Joey Hudson, delightful as she is, but ordinarily he doesn’t think too much of them. After all, he’s untouchable and they all know it. There’s no reason to worry about them, let alone waste his precious free time (what little he gets of it) thinking about them. They’re insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing but an inconvenience, an annoyance at most. Completely irrelevant.

But then he saw her.

Standing there, innocuous, looking out at something (for something? Nothing?) in the distance.

There’s a hitch, the catch of a stilted breath.

Where they were keeping her hidden he has no idea, but he is taken the moment he catches that rogue glance of her.

And, strangely, he doesn't know why.

Sure, John and his brothers have been in this County for a good while now and he has never seen her before, so it’s perfectly normal for him to be curious about the unfamiliar face in town. Nothing wrong with that, it’s innocent enough.

Except there’s everything wrong with that.

Because that’s not it.

He can’t even blame his wandering eyes on her appearance; she’s wearing that drab uniform that even a charity shop wouldn’t take, and it does nothing to enhance whatever natural beauty she may have hidden underneath it. Although, the girl-next-door look she gives off is begrudgingly cute (if he dared to utter the word unironically).

Honestly, she’s not the type of woman that he typically would have paid any special attention to back in his lawyer days. Fucked her stupid maybe, for the extra notch in his bedpost, but he likely wouldn’t have taken her number or thought too much about her afterwards. Relegated to just another lay in a long line of bed partners that he doesn’t remember all the names of.

To be blunt, she isn’t anything special.

And maybe that’s part of the appeal, what hooks him in. Because she is different; unassuming and uncomplicated, modest to a point of simplicity. And yet there is something about her that he can’t actively see or name from his spot across the street that has drawn him in without even trying. And he doesn’t know what or why.

It’s as infuriating as it is intriguing.

Perhaps there is some iota of truth in what Joseph had said to him a while ago, John supposed silently to himself at the time: the simplest of things can be beautiful, in their own unconventional ways.

Although his brother could have said as much with far less words, verses, and vague allusions to a potential future that might never be-- a spark of sudden change that sets a new course in motion; scales tipped by the most consuming of emotions; scorched by a soul so deceptively unremarkable that no one would have thought to believe just how uniquely special they would become--

…

……

… Huh…

John creates a special slot in his increasingly hectic schedule just for her from then on out.

He goes out of his way to find more reasons to harass and bother the local population, all in a fruitless attempt to get lucky and have her answer their call for aid and come and tell him what a bad boy he’s being. (Annoyingly she never turns up, though.)

He makes calls and pulls some strings to the businesses he’s procured, makes inquiries to anyone that would listen to him, including those doing menial tasks or even going through their Atonement (they don’t understand the relevancy of his questioning and he may have been a little harsher with them than he should’ve been because of it), and all in the name of his personal investigation into her.

After all, he had argued to himself in front of a cork board covered with documents and pictures of her with a feverish flavour, what sort of Herald would he be if he didn't know everything about everyone living in his-- their, his and his brothers, soon-to-be County?

His invasive and not completely legal search into this new Deputy (and she is new it turns out, freshly transferred in fact) goes on for a full, nonstop month before -- during one of his totally-random-and-not-planned stops into town -- he discovers something else about her.

When he first saw his Deputy (and doesn’t that feel good to say) she was alone, leaning against the wooden beam of the Sheriff’s Department’s porch and staring out into the distant fields; the late afternoon sun haloing her figure in its golden warmth, its light making the colour of her eyes blaze bright and her hair shine silkily. The perfect picture of ease.

This time, when he finally manages to spy another in-person look at her, he finds that she has company. She’s standing next to the ever friendly Hudson, posture held strong by an understated confidence and arms casually crossed beneath her bust, an amused smile on her decidedly pretty face as Hudson talks animatedly about something that he can’t hear.

And she’s looking up at her.

John blinks, and blinks again.

He’s definitely seen her file, he even remembers glossing through her medical records (which he would most assuredly deny having if anyone asked), so he knows how tall she is. But for some reason it apparently hadn’t quite registered to him until now what that would look like in a physical comparison between the two of them.

He knows that the lovely Hudson is a couple of inches shorter than him, not too far off from meeting him eye-to-eye. His Deputy, from what he can see, is about a full head shorter than Hudson. Which would put her, what, roughly just about eye-to-chest with him...?

He thinks about it. Thinks about her next to him, imagines what that would look like. Thoughts surprisingly innocent as he wonders after clichés of reaching for something that she can’t reach, of cocooning her in his arms as he effortlessly wrangles her into his lap. Envisions the domesticity of easily resting his head on top of hers as he holds her from behind, slotting himself into the mould of her figure like matching puzzle pieces, perfectly meant to be and belong…

A high pitched, shaky sound slips free at the mental reel.

It’s not a secret the type of life that John used to live. He has been with numerous types of women, something he used to take a great deal of pride in, and has indulged in and explored his fair share of kinks in the comfort of expensive silk sheets. But who would have guessed that the former playboy, John Duncan now John Seed, would have a thing for domestic bliss.

Or rather, domestic bliss with little. ol’. her.

John makes the executive decision then and there to talk to his Deputy as soon as possible. Preferably alone. Without interference.

It feels like forever before he gets the opportunity.

A week later, on a daily walk through Falls End that has only admittedly become a thing in order to check up on the lucky woman of his blazing affections (I am not stalking her, Jacob, he had grounded out menacingly to his accusing older brother over Sunday dinner; who proceeded to look on at John with a slow quirk of an eyebrow), he finds his ever elusive Deputy resting around the corner of the Sheriff’s Department’s building. Eyes closed, head down, arms crossed, and safely concealed in the shade; unsuspectingly calm in her desired time alone.

And John is quick to ruin it.

He can’t help himself, he really can’t. The opportunity is here and he would be remiss to let it pass him by.

Even if she does look rather serene.

He's seen a few photos of her, more than a few actually-- albums worth even, so he knows what she looks like up close. He even printed one out (it’s a favourite of his, a near perfect replica of the first time he saw her) and has it framed on his bedside table; but it turns out no amount of photos quite do the real her justice.

The closer he gets to her the more he notices how petite she is, how the loose yet deceptively form-fitting hug of her bland uniform subtly accentuates the curves and slopes of her modest figure; the daintiness of her fingers as they rest against the exposed, smooth skin of her arms; that familiar magnetic draw snapping to life in the colour of her eyes as they lazily open, sparkling as he gets closer and she looks up at him, wide and wondering.

Innocent.

Oh, he was so wrong about her, he realises wondrously. Did her such a disservice in his initial judgement of her all those weeks ago. She is far from average.

And being here in front of her, close enough to touch, to be able to easily reach out and trap her against the wall and between his arms if he so wanted to, safely protected under the cage of his form -- her neck craning back in order to comfortably gaze up at him, meeting his eyes as he stares down at her…

It makes something inside him go wild.

John lays the charm on quick and swift, hand attractively running through his hair as a practised but handsome smile lights up his face, eyes twinkling through his lidded gaze with an aweing hunger he knows he is failing to keep hidden.

Getting the first word in, he leans close to the wall, not quite putting his full weight against it (his shirt was expensive) but close enough to allow him a moment of privacy with her by limiting her field of view to only him. Blocking out everyone-- everything else with his taller frame (and doesn’t that thought spark a sudden twitch of interest) as he eagerly monopolises her attention.

Daringly he edges further into her space while he talks ardently to her, truly basking in the unexpected pleasure he gets in watching her unintentionally baring her neck to him; being so beautifully submissive for him without consciously realising it. Amusement colouring his tone in pale notes as he watches the way her pretty eyes darken and narrow at his progressive disturbance and invasion of her time and space.

Fuck. He didn’t know it would be this intoxicating to be so close to her.

Even as he dances through conversation with playful words and hinting remarks, becomes enamoured by the soothing intonation of her voice as she is dragged along with guarded comments and wary retorts, he can’t stop the way his mind ever so sinfully wanders…

It really would be so easy to have her up against this wall. To crowd her in with his frame on all sides and her vision filled with nothing but him. The centre of her universe and attention, him; and his hers. The concept of that sort of all-encompassing intimacy and devotion makes John shudder. Hungry all the more for it and the woman that has unknowingly given him a taste of what it could all be and become, of what that level of pure, unadulterated want is inspiring in him.

He could easily have her against this wall. Have her looking directly skyward up at him as if he were her moon and stars, as he looks directly down at her-- his entire world and more.

Snatch her thigh and hoist it up towards his waist. Have her balancing precariously on the tips of her toes and clutching desperately at him, trusting John to help hold and support her and keep her steady as he shields her from the world around them. Hides her away from the unworthy just as the unworthy have hidden her away from him. His lips sweetly latching onto hers, her taste finally on his tongue after all these weeks of wanting, involuntarily grounding his hips into hers as a desperate sound breaks within his throat.

Oh, John can visualise it now: the two of them breathing in each other's air, bodies flush as he tugs and pushes closer, her shirt riding up as it's snagged by the rough brickwork at her back, arching into him on an unsteady foot to escape its harsh bite. Teeth nipping teasingly at her lips and tongue licking moreishly into her mouth as his free hand roams down her stomach, pulls the rest of her shirt loose and fumbles in his eagerness with the buttons of her jeans, yanking the zipper down and shoving his hand below the waistband and into her underwear. Hearing her whine sweetly into his mouth as he feels just how wet she is for him, how much she wants him and how eagerly she welcomes him into her as he plunges his fingers into her slick cunt with a needy and quaking moan of his own.

Would she want it quick and rough? His fingers thrusting knuckle deep as he presses tight circles to her throbbing clit, teeth at her throat as he claws into her thigh held tightly in the dip of his waist. Listening to how her moans get higher, her breathing gets quicker, turning into desperate little gasps before he tugs his fingers free of her; lips devouring hers in quick apology as he battles to pull his aching cock free, cursing lowly against her lips as his slick covered fingers slip on the metal of his belt. She’d help him, he knows she would -- such a good girl --, nipping and kissing him back with wanton sounds as she bats his hand away, revelling in the noises he makes for her -- only for her, only ever for her -- as she pulls him free; rolling her hips until his cock catches on her slit and he’s thrusting home into her.

Only then -- while feeling her walls flex around him, mouth hanging open as they both bask in finally, finally being so intimately connected to one another -- would he finally hike her other leg up to wrap fully around his waist, fully supporting her weight and driving himself deeper into her, one of his arms coming up to press into the wall beside her, hand caringly slipping behind her head; bracketing her in. Shivering as her breath warms his neck and she cries out for him.

And considering her height… fuck, he can only imagine just how tight she’d be for him, chocking his cock as she squeezes him, milking him for all he’s worth until his teeth are stained red against her lovingly maimed neck. His hips snapping into hers with a guttural growl, panting sensual snarls of encouragement into her ear as he demands and begs in equal measure that she touch herself for him, dexterous fingers chasing her end as he chases his own until-- she’s coming around him with a high and shuddery keen. Her soft walls sucking him deeper into her, legs locking tighter around his waist and keeping him there as he spills himself into the back of her hot cunt with a strangled moan. Claiming her as his as he presses in closer, plugging her full with his cock and cum and praying that it’ll take--

…

……

… Huh.

He will definitely be exploring that at a later date…

Or perhaps she wouldn’t want it like that. Wouldn’t want him to be so rough and careless with her. Maybe she would want him to go slower, to be gentle-- to be good for her, to take his time and truly enjoy and appreciate every sweet beg and whimper that falls from her perfect lips. Perhaps she wouldn’t want to fuck him at the back of her shabby place of work, or even anywhere out in the open; maybe she would prefer privacy, for him to make love to her. Would want him to steal her away into his home, to carefully lay her out on his bed and unwrap her like a delicate gift, hands tracing teasing paths along her body before spreading her wide for his tasting pleasures. Taking his time to truly savour her unique flavour on his palette, wanton sounds pressed into sensitive flesh as he takes her throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks.

Broad strokes of his skilled tongue parting her lips and drinking her down, fingers firm as they hold onto the soft meat of her thighs and hips, thumbs rubbing soothing motions into her skin as he opens her up for him. Urges her with hot breathes, praising words, the flick of his tongue and the dip of his fingers into her wet heat, to cum for him; pleads with sound and touch and a greedy haze over his lust-darkened eyes. The gravel in his gluttonous voice vibrating into her, in love with how she reaches and cries out for him as he tells her how good she’s being for him, how badly he needs her to cum for him-- a debauched sound choking out of him as she does. Completely enraptured as she reaches the height of pleasure -- pleasure he brought her, that he will always strive to bring her --, bearing witness to his own personal God-given vision as he watches her writhe against his sheets and listens to her songs of praise, easing her down from that divine high and back into his devoted embrace.

Kissing a line up to her bitten lips, answering her mewls with soft coos and grounding touches, brushing over a nipple before taking the perky flesh into his mouth with a brief suck and fleeting skim of teeth, letting go with a lingering kiss before moving across and repeating the process to its twin. Reluctantly drawing away to playfully nip and press wet kisses into the column of her throat before letting her taste the tanginess of her juices on his tongue. Languidly kissing as he strokes her sides, writing indecipherable words of affection into her skin, content to let her enjoy the bliss of post-orgasm before he slowly pulls away, descending back down the line of her body with a husky, ‘one more, just one more for me, darling...’

John knows he wouldn’t stop at just ‘one more’ though. Hopefully she’d be generous enough to give him a few more before he finally slakes his need for her.

And hopefully she doesn't see the hard-on he’s now sporting after such vivid fantasies.

In a particularly bold move, temptation spurred into a fever from improper imaginings, John reaches for her; fixates on a strand of hair that has become untucked from behind her ear. She tenses, muscles coiling tight as she gives him the most suspicious look somebody has ever given him before. He’s actually rather offended. And very hurt.

But it’s sobering, in its own way. Because suddenly he can hear Joseph’s voice in his head from last Sunday (what a turn-off…), advising him that if he wanted to pursue a relationship with this Deputy that he was so smitten with then he needed to be gentle, considerate.

John may have done his ‘research’ on her, extensively so, but that did not mean that he was entitled or even deserving of her affections. He could not expect her to be on the same page as him, especially considering he had yet to even interact with her at that point. She may not have even heard of him yet, Joseph had speculated-- John and Jacob quietly sharing a disbelieving look. Everyone in the County knew their names, and with her being a Deputy there was no way she hadn’t heard of them.

Regardless, Joseph’s point still stood: if John wanted a genuine chance with her then he needed to soften himself, to be delicate, more tactful with her. Demonstrate that he can hear and see her for all that she is and can be, and that he accepts her without reservation.

Think of it like Atonement, Joseph had supplied sagely, fingers steepled, she needs to willingly give her confession over to you, John. Her affections. You can’t just take them.

And to Joseph’s credit, that actually made sense to John.

Atonement was all about accepting one’s sins, confessing them to another whom they trusted would never condemn nor judge them for their past actions or choices; unburdening themselves so they may be reborn pure and untainted for the hopeful future ahead of them. In that regard, his pursuit of his Deputy wasn’t too dissimilar.

So in that brief moment, in that flash of hurt as she steels herself against his considerate gesture and where John remembers Joseph’s words, he pauses. Convinces himself to go slower, to not try to grab at her like a spoiled brat reaching for things that weren't his-- yet. Reigns himself in enough so he doesn’t give her anymore of a reason to potentially be wary of him, to which he has very likely just given her quite a few. Trying in his own distinct way to smooth over her obvious distrust of him.

John knows he’s made mistakes throughout his life. Many would say he’s not a good man, and he wouldn’t necessarily disagree with them. But seeing and learning of her, of recalling his brother’s words and advice, of the many fantasies he’s had before and even during meeting her in this moment, he thinks he could change that. Knows that, if she would have him, if she gave him the chance, he’d be good. He’d be good for her.

Joseph always talks about love, about the power and control it wields over people and-- admittedly, John doesn’t completely get it.

But with her? For her? He thinks he just might.

…

He thinks he already does.

#can you tell i didn't know how to end this?#what a mess #plot is less than half baked #but hey i had fun with it so that's good #also #because i love ruining people's day #i can't help but read that first line in Jeremy Clarksons voice. makes this whole thing that bit funnier to me #oh and if anyone would like to draw a certain scene of John and a cork board that would be most appreciated #absolute pinnacle of me going silly with this fic #love it #also also #i was aiming to get this out for halloween because of how scary the writing is but i'm an hour late :(#very typical of me but i'm still disappointed #but it's okay i have my bed waiting for me so all is well lol #john seed x reader #john seed x deputy #john seed x female deputy #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 fanfic #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: stalking #tw: possessive behavior #don't feel like he's that possessive in this but still tagging just in case

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qserasera · 24 days

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everyone who has ever liked anything joongdok related pls read this fic Immediately

“Are you sure you want to bring a stranger to your house?” Kim Dokja asked with a tilt of his head toward Yoo Joonghyuk. “What if I’m a crazy fan? You should think about stranger danger.” “Are you a crazy fan?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked in a dangerously interested voice, like the idea was extremely appealing to him. (x)

#i don't know why the author would tag this as possibly ooc THIS IS THE MOST #in character thing i have ever read I SHRIEKD #yjh being dangerously interested in the idea LKSJDFKLSJDKFSD HE WOULD #there are things deeply wrong with both of them that just work #it is an omegaverse fic with miliatry sci fi setting but it doesn't really. come up in a big way yet yjh is also a gamer #AND an imperial general...their love story!! is very good #the worldbuilding and the way the mood swings from absolutely comedic to emotion ruining is very well handled #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #fic rec #this is for my orv besties

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the-darklings · 2 years

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Hello, I love your fics and I've noticed that a lot of your stories despite being reader fics are very character driven. Not just for the og characters but for the OC themselves.

It's done so well that I wanted to ask if you have any steps for writing such enticing character driven stories or does it just come naturally?

It comes naturally, and stems from the fact that, at my core, I'm an absolute character-driven story writer and reader.

I can put up with okay writing and a mediocre plot, but you have to have good characters for me. It's a deal breaker. I always joke that my favourite thing to do when I write is simply have two characters sit and talk - that's it. If the characters are interesting and compelling, it doesn't matter if they're not doing anything "exciting" it will still be engaging to read about.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that plot, prose, and world-building are not just as important - they are! - but for me, characters are key. And that's because, for me, at least, stories are for people by people. Therefore, characters will always be the thing people remember. Think about your favourite stories for a moment - no matter what the medium is - what comes to mind first? I would bet 9/10 times it's the characters. If I say Star Wars, chances are that even if you've never seen a scrap of those films/shows etc, you still know Darth Vader. You know Luke Skywalker. You know Batman. You know the Joker. That's because we identify with people, aka the characters. They're the reason we love storytelling. The best stories in the world are so popular because they have characters that outlive or/and outshine their own canon.

I guess for that reason, it's always funny to me when I see people get snobby about people's OCs, especially canon/OC ships. And even more so, x reader fics. As if they're somehow "lesser". But take a second to remember something important: every single character you love is someone else's OC that's been given a wider audience. That's all.

#basically to anyone fearing they're being cringe or their original voice doesn't matter: don't listen.#it absolutely does.#i just love people!!! and i love characters!!! i especially love really grey and morally corrupt characters!!!#i love it when characters are messy and irrational #when they frustrate me and compel me #i like it when there's friction and overlap with people #i love it when characters make me question myself.#and i know a lot of people aren't like that #they care for plot/writing more etc.#but for me every character is a piece that can/should be utalised #think about why side characters are often so popular #it's because we want to know more. because we - as readers/viewers - project ourselves onto them #that's also why books tend to be better than movies usually. because it takes a rare talent to translate intimate thoughts onto screen #visual mediums are limiting!!! as someone who works with visual storytelling let me tell you:#prose is a gift because you can create such a bond and connection with readers. with prose you get to burrow into character's brain #with prose you are letting readers in on characters' most intimate feelings/hopes/fears/frustrations aka things WE feel and relate to #asks

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obey-me-headquarters · 11 months

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Impatience fills the air. Like a tiger ready to strike or a coiled band bending to break. The atmosphere hangs heavily between you, Cove, and Baxter.

It was a normal evening for the three of you, or as normal as your new relationship could be. An evening spent in and enjoying each other's cooking that started out playful slowly turned more and more heated as the night went on.

With the food eaten and the dishes being washed, the tension was palpable. Baxter is on washing duty, while Cove dries and you put the dishes away. Every touch as plants were passed lingered, and glances got more and more heated.

Finally, the band broke. Lunging forward, you grab Baxter by the collar and push him against the sink. He raises his eyebrows at the suddenness but melts into the kiss with a needy moan.

Cove sheepishly glances over his shoulder at the two of you, wet dish still in hand. His eagerness bleeding through, but his shyness halting him from making any sudden moves.

Your tongue slips into Baxter's willing mouth, welcomed with a needy moan. The both of you were nearly lost in your heated embrace. Tongues pressing against each other and hands desperately clenching clothing. Yet your mind couldn't help but wander to your other partner. A sidelong glance reveals Cove standing off to the side, wet dish in hand, his want so earnestly on display.

Well, that certainly wouldn't do.

Working on pure impulse, you grab onto Cove's shirt in a blind grab and pull him towards you. Breaking the kiss with Baxter, you swiftly direct your attention towards your sea formed haired lover. A startled squeak escapes his lips as you lean forward to press your lips against his.

Baxter observes you two through hooded eyes, slumped against the counter as he desperately tries to catch his breath.

"As fun as kissing in the kitchen is, do you mind if we take this a bit more comfortable?" Baxter asks.

You loathe to put an end to your sudden make-out session, but you could see the appeal of the suggestion. You didn't want one of the first times the three of you were intimate to be in a kitchen.

With a grumble, you lean away from Cove, who gives you a confused look.

"H-huh? We're- what?"

Obviously, he didn't hear what Baxter had suggestioned, to preoccupied with having your tongue down his throat. With a laugh, you pull Cove by the hand and grab Baxter's on your way, too.

It was a bit awkward trying to lead them both, but by Baxter's pleased snicker, you guess that the two of them made due. It wasn't long before the three of you arrived at your door, which you kicked out as you were out of hands to open it with.

"Um, I could have opened that for you." Cove states behind you.

Yet you pay him mind, quickly leading your two lovers towards the bed. Cove falls first onto it, and you halt Baxter with another kiss.

Grinning, he leans into it, and you push him into Cove's lap. Cove gratefully accepts his gift and wraps his lips around Baxter's neck while your own is still pressed against Baxter's. Trailing kisses up and down the shorter man's neck, Cove stops at his mole. Knowing that it's one of the most sensitive spots on his body, Cove ghosts his lips over the spot.

With a choked-off moan, Baxter gasps against your lips. An airly chuckle escapes your lips, and you ever so slightly lean away, just to enjoy the sight of Baxter squirming against Cove. The taller man was caging him in with his body, holding him against his chest as he teased the skin around Baxter's oh so sensitive mole. Baxter wasn't that short of a guy, but Cove was extremely tall, and he used every inch to his advantage as he held Baxter against him.

It was obviously doing something for Baxter, too, judging by the way he leaned back into the hold, as if he wanted to envelop fully. With a smirk, Baxter glances towards you, obviously wondering where you've gone, but not too disappointed with who you left him with.

Before he could say a no doubt sophisticated and playful remark, you leaned forward and captured his mouth in a kiss. Yet this kiss was less about getting acquainted with the inside of his mouth and more about exploration as your hands trail alongside his body.

Reaching his crotch your hands confidently pressed against it, earning your a groan from the monochromatic man, which you happily swallowed. Baxter was throughly overwhelmed sandwiched between you and Cove, a fact he was acutely aware of. When you leaned back to catch your breath, Baxter stammers out:

"Don't- don't you two want to enjoy each other's company a bit more?"

Grinning deviously at him, you very much did not. Content with overwhelming him with pleasure he never thought he would receive. Cove obviously had a similar thought as he reached around Baxter to undo his shirt buttons.

"No." He whispered bluntly into the shell of Baxter's ear, earning him a delicious shudder.

With a defeated sigh, Baxter relaxes into the hold. "Well, I wouldn't stop you two since you're so determined."

"Good, you couldn't if you tired." You reply with a grin before dropping to your knees.

Hastily, you grab onto Baxter's belt and loosen the buckle. Flinging it over your shoulder the moment it's loose enough you make quick work of the buttons and zipper, cursing yourself for not removing his clothing before sitting him down, but too impatient to stop now. With an annoyed grunt, you pull down his pants, not even bothering to remove them fully, and let them hang around his ankles.

Finally you see what you're been thinking about all night, Baxter's cock. Unfortunately, it's still clothed by his cute leaf boxers, but it's half hard and dripping, creating a wet patch. You knew that Baxter was needy, but you didn't know that a few kisses were all that was needed to get him this worked up.

Kissing the wet patch, Baxter bucks against you, almost hitting you in the face. Luckily you're able to lean back before he does.

"Sorry, th-that was rude of me. I just- hmp!" Baxter throws his head back with a moan as Cove sucks a hickey around his mole while his hands reach down to hold Baxter down.

"Don't worry, I'll keep him still for you." Cove states.

You know that Baxter isn't going anyway with Cove holding him down. His hard earned muscles he got from his summers of surfing being put to use as he holds Baxter tightly against him.

With a smirk you pull the leaf boxers down to his ankles, and enjoy the sight of Baxter's hard cock leaking against his stomach. Licking your lips you lean forward to give his slit a kiss, earning you a breathy groan.

Cove's hands wrap firmly around Baxter's thighs, spreading his legs for you and holding him in place.

"Good luck, you're going to need it." He says ominously into Baxter's ear.

"I- what?" Baxter asks confused, he's never been victim to your mouth on his cock before, unlike Cove who knew exactly what you're capable of.

Before he can get an answer, your lips wrap around his dick. You only take a moment to savor the taste of his precum and compare it to Cove's, before your tongue works its magic.

"Ugh! O-oh, my- hmp! Now wait just a- fuck!" Baxter throws his head back with a throaty groan. You're glad that Cove had the foresight to hold Baxter down, because the way he's thrashing right now would surely dislodge you from your spot. Fortunately, with his strong hold, Baxter remains held in place as you treat him to the otherworldly experience of your mouth.

No amount of squirming, thrashing, or withering could deter you, as Baxter quickly surmised, not that he stopped doing any of those things as you sucked. The moans and groans you pull out of him are entirely involuntary, as Baxter would prefer if you and Cove didn't hear such neediness from him so early into your relationship. But there was no helping it, and he quickly spilled a mix of "Please," "Oh god," and language you didn't think the normally sophisticated man would ever confess to knowing.

Cove decided that he wouldn't completely overwhelm the poor man, at least, not yet, and took a break from painting his neck with hickeys. Instead, he was content to watch Baxter lose all sense of composer against him.

"Fuck- please, oh God I can't!" Baxter moaned, and that was all the warning before he came into your mouth.

Normally, he was a lot more polite, warning about any spilling, but all sense of decency was clearly sucked out of him. You let yourself enjoy the unique taste of his spent before swallowing, mouth still wrapped around his dick. Baxter mewled softly at the sensation but was too worn to complain.

Leaning back you wipe all drool and uncaught cum from your chin with the back of the hand, and chuckled when you caught sight of Baxter.

You were getting used to seeing him more relaxed and messy, but you have yet to see just how far he could let himself go until now. He laid boneless in Cove's hold, the taller man's hold being the only thing keeping him unright. His eyes were glossed over and his pupils were so dilated that it made him look cat like. Mouth hanging slightly open, a few drops of drool spill down his chin.

Cove is no longer holding him so tightly, instead choosing a loser hold against his chest. Leaning down, he presses a kiss onto Baxter's forehead, and that seems to snap him out of his daze.

Looking down at you with hooded eyes accusatory, Baxter asks:

"Where in the world did you learn to do that with your tongue?"

#our life #our life beginnings & always #our life smut #our life baxter #our life cove #my post #i played Baxter's dlc and blacked out. when i awoke this was written. no but really i wrote half of this when it was extremely late #i know canonical Cove and Baxter dont get along too well but I CAN MAKE IT WORK I SWEAR #THE THREE OF YOU ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. DO YOU SEE MY VISION??#ahem. anyway. Our Life!Mc has AMAZING head game. you know that trick where you tie a cherry steam in your mouth? they were shown that and #did first try. 'what. like. it's hard?'#the first time you sucked Cove off his dad was away on a business trip and Cove was STILL worried about making too much noise the neighbors #would hear.#i think this the most non dommy smut i wrote for a reader?? huh..anyway.#Cove is SO tall and it drives Baxter absolutely wild. trust me. im a trustworthy source.#baxter also has like absolutely no muscles lol the emo. Cove isnt jacked in my mind he just does a lot of swimming. so he can absolutely #pin Baxter and that also drives Baxter absolutely wild.#anyway. sorry for the Ramble. i have Thoughts as you can tell lol #would love Our Life requests!! dont worry im still working on Obey Me stuff

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pttucker · 6 months

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As if to mock these two's Statuses, the clone of the 'Indescribable Distance' opened its maws wide towards them. And just before the open jaw of the fog of darkness swallowed up the starlight… 'The Fourth Law'. …Light gushed out from Cheok Jungyeong's sword. 'Fourth Sword that Beheads the Emptiness'. The center of the fog slowly split apart; just like the belly of a beast being sliced open, something began leaking out from that exposed center. The yellowing eye protruding from the fog of darkness began to disintegrate while spewing out Stories. [Many Constellations cannot take their eyes away from the martial glory displayed by 'Goryeo's First Sword'!] [The jaws of many Constellations have fallen at this unbelievable spectacle!] All the Constellations on the ground were astonished by what they saw.

Cheok Jungyeong LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

While all the other Constellations are busy running away, motherfucking Cheok Jungyeong is ready for his rematch.

And he has been preparing, oh yes he has.

#orv novel chapter 410 #orv #orv spoilers #orv liveblog #omniscient reader's viewpoint #cheok jungyeong #I love that this guy just randomly appeared back at the Constellation banquet #and has been one of Dokja's most ardent Constellation companions ever since as well as one of his most useful #it's honestly ridiculous how much Dokja manages to either inspire the greatest of love and camaraderie #or the greatest of absolute HATE #usually with the smallest of actions too #heck Kyrgios loves the guy and Dokja straight up SCAMMED HIM

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adozentothedawn · 4 months

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Detective Conan (Case Closed i think it's called in english?) is in a constant state between bullshittery and mysteries that make sense and are at least partially guessable and I love that about it.

#i was having thinky thoughts about mysteries in general #specifically the Layton writing #which is honestly insane for the most part #don't me wrong I love it but they absolutely do some ass pulls #and I'm also into conan again #i love me some shuichi akai #what a guy #and they absolutely do some asspulls too #but especially the smaller crime mysteries do have at least parts you can guess even if you don't know any motives #those are usually too fiction lore specific to have come up #but the who-done-it part is often within reach #like the case with the red shirts #(which is also just amazing because of all the character bullshittery going on the background that shit is excellent)#i will not spoil it but the people who are involved are guessable not only for writing reasons #but also because of those #but there are hints that the average reader can get #(also holy hell everyone and no one is Akai it's great)#(especially cause I think they hadn't revealed the big twist yet at that point I think?)#(So the characters are just as confused)#what a show #i am so hyped for the next movie especially cause it's gonna be a Kid movie!!#I love Kid #I should watch those episodes again

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cerise-on-top · 2 months

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hey!! its me again. your only current madcom requester (as far as i know), i was wondering if you could please write skittles and possibly deimos (seperate) with an artist s/o? specifically one who is constantly doodling them and making art for them? thank you!

-💾

Welcome back! Thank you for another Madcom request, I was looking forward to writing it! This one was also really sweet!

Deimos and Skittles with an Artist!S/O

Deimos: He draws from time to time himself and isn’t even that bad at it either. Sure, it’s never gonna be an elaborate painting or anything, but small drawings of Sanford eating some kielbasa or Hank getting beaten by Doc again. His drawings are usually more on the humorous side since he prefers those. Either way, he’d feel honoured that you like him enough to want to doodle him this much and draw for him. Yes, he knows that he’s hot shit, but it’s still nice. In fact, everyone at S.Q. will know about you being such a wonderful artist since he’ll show those drawings to everyone. You’re such a nice person, and so good at arts, it deserves to be shown off to everyone he knows. Give him enough drawings and he’ll draw something for you as well. As mentioned before, he’s pretty decent at drawing, but he’ll genuinely put in some effort into drawing you, for example. Deimos gets around a lot, and he does loot quite a bit whenever he can, so don’t be surprised if he walks up to you with some art supplies that he got from somewhere. You’re always on his mind, so naturally he’ll get something for you just so he can see you draw. Sometimes you might even get to draw with each other since he would get into it again ever since he received a few doodles from you. Although I should mention that he’ll still draw funny things to get you to laugh, he does want to see you be in a good mood. And if it’s because of him, even better. However, he’ll keep each and every single drawing of yours in a box, they’re near and dear to him. I know he can draw too, but he would love nothing more than to ask you to draw a picture of you and him together as a keepsake. It’s more personal than a picture to him and takes more effort.

Skittles: Like Deimos, he, too, draws from time to time. Unlike Deimos, he’s not very good at it, but that has never discouraged him from drawing a nice scenery. In his eyes, with everything he creates he’s only gonna get better and better at it, so he really doesn’t mind not being the best at drawing. He likely has tried drawing other grunts as well, including you, so you’ll likely see a drawing of you here and there. How could he not, after all. However, he proudly does show you his drawing as well. Hypes you up like no one else when it comes to you drawing. Sure, he’ll be quiet when you are drawing, but he’ll never miss an opportunity to ask you about some new creations you may have made. He’s as genuine as it gets about it too, he really does want to see your drawings. However, he’s not a very good critic since everything you make is the best thing ever in his eyes, so you really shouldn’t ask him for constructive criticism if you want some. He can and will find something good about each and every single one of your drawings, whether you like it or not. He hangs the drawings you give him up as well. Especially with magnets on the fridge since he wants to see them for as long as possible. Also keeps them in a neatly decorated box, and also shows your skills off to everyone willing to listen to him. If you’re ever down to take some commissions, he’s your best bet since he can always find someone willing to buy from you. Very excitable about your skills and loves talking about you in general. Nevada deserves to know about how great you are. Skittles will also come up to you with some art supplies here and there, if he can find some. As long as you’re happy doodling away, he’s happy as well. Gives you a big hug for each and every single drawing you make for him, he wants to reward you somehow.

#madness combat #madness combat x reader #deimos #deimos x reader #madness combat skittles #skittles x reader #I always wished I could draw but I'm not really patient enough to teach myself and improve haha #I also just realised that Deimos would be sort of like Scout TF2 in this #I always liked to view those two as good friends if they existed in the same universe #except Deimos would likely be a bit smarter. he can probably read #wait he's a hacker he can most definitely read. Deimos is a smart cookie #I love saying smart cookie. it's such a cute expression #I used to have the biggest crush on Deimos when I was still with my ex. Deimos is just really good and fun #I even wrote a fic with him once that I posted as well #not true I've written two fics with him now that I remember #would I have ditched my ex for Deimos? absolutely no questions asked #but then again he was not a very good person in the first place. neither is Deimos but at least I'd have had fun #I'd have gotten to talk about IT with him which is good. I love IT it's such an interesting field. even if computers are the worst

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