Curate, connect, and discover
About me:
❥ Hi, I’m Lucy! I’m 20 years old, and my pronouns are she/her. I’m helplessly in love with Josh Hutcherson and Milo Manheim.
❥ I’m not exactly new to fan fiction writing, but i’ve never ever posted my works until I made this account. Ever since I started writing fics, it’s been my dream to have other people read and enjoy my work, so every comment and repost means the world to me!
❥ Also, please feel free to leave me any questions or requests! I’d love to write out your guys ideas.
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Who i’ll write for:
Josh’s characters: Clapton, Mike, Derek, Sean, Futturman, Billy and maybe Peeta
Milo’s characters: Ryan, Wally, Zed, Nico (This is mainly a Jhutch account, but I also have some Milo fan followers.)
(I have over 20 celeb crushes but I’m trying to keep this account to my two main ones…)
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Things I WILL write:
• Smut, fluff, angst, oneshots
Things I WONT write:
• extreme/downright nasty kinks or fetishes
• immoral/illegal kinks
• I will not write for real people. It’s just something I feel uncomfortable doing.
I’ve only written for female characters, but I am 100% open to writing gender nuteral and male characters!
We are never, ever getting back together. (18+)
Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.
WC: 8.2k (so far)
type: fluff/smut/angst, fem!reader
pt 1 pt2 pt 3
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We are never, ever getting back together. (18+)
type: smut, fem!reader
(first chapter only)
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Teenage dream
Summary: You have a crush on your best friend, Clapton, and soon he finds out. (request)
WC: 1k
type: fluff, male!reader
Read here
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Bad idea, right? (18+)
Summary: You drunkenly bump into Derek at one of his parties.
WC: 2.5k
type: smut, fem!reader
Read here
afab!reader x Derek Danforth
Summary: You drunkenly bump into Derek at one of his parties.
WC: 2.5k
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (m receiving), choking, cheating, porn with (some?) plot, hard dom Derek, afab reader, p in v, P piercing, fingering, degradation, praise
A/N: I know I said I'd write a Sean fic but I just got severe Derek brain rot...
Enjoy!
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You’re not exactly sure what you’re looking for. You just know you need alcohol. Well, you’ve already had… two? Four drinks. But, what’s the harm in a few more?
As you stumble your way to one of the bars, you run headfirst into someone’s back. The stranger turns around, looking down at you. You immediately recognize him. Derek Danforth, billionaire playboy. You had worked for one of his many companies before, and your sorry excuse of a boyfriend was the reason you were even at this party in the first place. Derek and him used to know each other a while back but they haven’t spoken in years. He still dragged you to every single one of Derek’s insane parties, only to abandon you halfway through.
When the parties died down and you got too tired to keep your eyes open, you’d find him trying to sneak around with one of Derek’s hookers.
Derek pulls a vape from his pocket, his eyes fluttering as he wraps his lips around it and inhales. While he speaks, sickly sweet vapor blows into your face. “What’s a girl like you doing here alone?” His head tilts to the side as he takes another puff of the vape.
“I’m not alone.” You cross your arms, your eyes not leaving his. A smile creeps down onto his face as he makes a big show of looking around you. “I don’t see anyone, sweetheart.” His voice is low and gravely, a telltale sign that he’s a bit tipsy too. The smell of whiskey on his breath mixes with the artificial vapor, making you dizzy.
You take a step back, looking around for the man you came here with. Your eyes land on him sitting on a velvet couch, women with scandalous dresses surround him and run their hands through his over-gelled hair. Derek follows your line of sight, his eyes squinting as he sees him. “Really? That fuckin’ loser?” He laughs, throwing out more insults. “Are you really here with him?”
You look back over to Derek, your hands finding their way to your hips. “Why is that so shocking, Danforth?” He laughs, scratching the scruff on his chin. “I’ve scammed that bastard hundreds of times. He’s just a dumbass. He’s got no business being here with a beauty like you.” You know you should turn around and bolt through the front door. You also know it’s definitely a bad idea to tease someone a part of a family as powerful as the Danforths, but something entices you.
Fuck it, it’ll be fine. “Huh. In that case, I guess I’m not here with anyone then. Are you interested?” You give him a sly smile. “Oh, that’s cute.” He smirks, his calloused hands finding their way to your chin. He tilts your head up, bending down to put his face inches from yours. “Sorry, Honey. You’re drunk.” You shuffle closer to him, your noses just barely touching. His eyes flicker down to your lips, his tongue swiping over his own. “So are you.”
He laughs, taking his hand away from your face and straightening back up. “Not enough.” He takes one last look over you, his eyes lingering on your breasts. He mutters something incoherent to himself when he turns to walk away. “Hey- Wait.”
Your hand wraps around his wrist and you pull him back into you. His breath hitches in his throat as you press yourself against his crotch, already feeling his bulge. “You sure?” You slur, the alcohol taking over your senses and filling you with a burning desire you’ve never felt before. There was just something about the way his eyes undressed you, shamelessly focused on each curve of your hips. You want him, and you know he wants you too.
What you don’t know, however, is he’s almost ready to rip your tight little dress off and take you right there in the middle of the room. His frankly perverted thoughts are interrupted as you slowly grind against him, his pants getting tighter by the minute. He groans and doubles over, his hands gripping your waist. His fingers dig into the skin, making you whimper.
He groans with clenched teeth in your ear, “Fuck.. You’re just a slut, aren’t you?” His degradation does nothing but make the fire inside of your core burn brighter. You feel like you’re going to explode if he turns you down again.
“Please…” You whine into his chest as your hips slowly begin moving against his again. You glance around, noticing people begin to stare and whisper. Derek doesn’t even seem bothered as he grips you tighter. He curses again, every amount of hesitation pulled out of him. He grabs your arm roughly, finding the closest bedroom.
He quickly pulls you both in, pushing you against the door with one hand and locking it with the other. He pushes you further against the wall, his thigh riding up into your crotch, spreading your legs further apart. He yanks up your dress to your hips, your panties and legs exposed.
His lips quickly find yours, his hands sliding down to your wrists. He pins them to the wall behind you, kissing you harder. You shiver as his tongue slides out and drags across your lips. Your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip inside. You whimper against him as you feel his tongue brush yours.
The rough fabric of his suit pants grinds against the thin cloth of your underwear. You buck your hips against his thigh harder, your panties soaking through and turning the light green fabric of his pants dark. He bounces his leg against your core. You whimper into his mouth as his thigh continues to hit your clit.
Derek’s lips wander to the skin of your neck, sucking the sensitive skin. You start grinding against his leg harder, feeling your stomach tightening. You moan louder as your back arches against the door. By the noises you’re making and the way your back is arching, Derek can tell you’re close.
He whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. “You wanna cum? Hm? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” You nod and groan louder as his leg quickens and his grip on your wrists tightens. Just as you feel yourself slipping away, his thigh leaves your clit. You whine, feeling the euphoria quickly get ripped away. “You’re going to have to earn it, Love.”
His hands leave your wrists and grab your shoulders, pushing you to your knees. The rough carpet scrapes against your knees. You look up at him through your eyelashes, his crotch inches away. Without a second thought, your hands find the cool metal of his belt buckle. You quickly undo it, his pants falling to his ankles.
His tight boxers leave next to nothing to the imagination, the outline of his erection is very visible, begging to be free. You notice something sticking through the fabric. You quickly pull down his boxers, interested to see what it is. His dick springs up, slapping his stomach. He’s pretty girthy and he’s already leaking with pre-cum. The most striking thing, however, is the frenum piercing right below his tip.
You look up, raising your eyebrow. “Really?” He laughs, his hands tangling in your hair, gripping it. “Never seen a dick piercing before, honey?” You shake your head, millions of fantasies filling your brain. All you can think about is how the cool metal will feel sliding in and out of you as he stretches you out. He pulls your head closer to his erection, daring you to do something. “There’s always a first time for everything.”
Your tongue pushes past your lips, dragging it from the base of his cock to the piercing. The cool metal drags across your tongue. Your hand finds his shaft and you slowly drag it up and down his length, keeping eye contact the whole time. He looks down at you, biting his lip and grunting as your pace increases.
He throws his head back as he feels your tongue swirl around his tip, taking it into the warmth of your mouth. You slowly bob your head up and down, only going as far as the piercing. It drags across your mouth, the metallic taste overwhelming you. Derek’s hand drags you forward, your head pushing down further. The tip repeatedly slams against the back of your throat as his hips begin thrusting forward.
You gag, your eyes filling with tears. You scrunch them shut, your hands reaching out and digging into his thighs as he continues his assault on your throat. With every thrust, he tests you by pushing further and further. Spit drips out, dripping down your chin and running down the front of your chest.
The sounds of your gagging and choking fill the room as Derek begins groaning louder. His movements quicken, his grip on the back of your head tightening. Blackened tears from your smeared mascara roll down your cheeks, mixing with the spit and pre-cum.
Derek pulls your head back, pulling completely out of your throat. You begin to gasp, trying to catch your breath. Before you’re able to, he pulls you back forward, slamming into you again. No one has ever done such a thing to you before, and it overwhelms you. At the same time, you can’t deny you love it. The feeling of his fingers tangled in your hair and the feeling of him pounding into your throat fills you with nothing but pure lust and need. You buck your hips against nothing, your ruined orgasm from earlier begging to catch up to you.
After a few times of Derek pulling out of your mouth and slamming back in, his movements get more sloppy. “God- Fuckk…” He groans loudly, not caring about the partygoers dancing right outside down the hallway. “I’m- I’m gonna…” His deep, gravely moans from earlier dissipate as whimpers leave his mouth. His lewd, almost pathetic noises flip a switch in you. You start bobbing your head faster, trying to match his rhythm.
His hips stutter, and he slams back into your throat one last time. Hot ropes of cum shoot down your throat, filling your mouth with a salty-sweet taste. He doesn’t pull out until you swallow every last drop. Once he’s finished completely, he yanks you up, pulling you over to the bed. “You’re such a fucking slut…” He says as he gets on top of you, kissing down your collarbone.
He reaches behind you, unzipping your dress. He yanks it off of you, throwing it across the room. He quickly does the same with your panties, throwing them behind him as well. His eyes engulf your naked figure, not leaving a single part unseen. He resumes his earlier actions, this time kissing down to your bare chest. His lips find one of your nipples, taking it into his mouth. You moan as he swirls his tongue around it, pinching the other one between his fingers. He takes it between his teeth, gently pulling on it. You whimper, your arousal getting almost too much to handle.
To your dismay, he pulls away, removing his hand as well. He glances up at you through his long eyelashes, his big brown eyes shooting through you. You grind your hips up against his, desperate for any friction you can get “You want more? Hm? Use your words, sweetheart.” He pins your hips against the bed, not letting you have any relief.
“Please.. Please.” You whine. “What? Please what?” You throw your arm over your eyes, your face lighting on fire. You hate how much he’s toying with you, but at the same time, it just makes you want him so much more. “Please, please fuck me.” He smiles, a satisfied laugh leaving his lips. “Good girl…”
He spreads your legs open, his middle finger dragging through your folds. “You’re so wet for me already..” He gasps out, his eyes widening. His finger slowly slides into your pussy. You gasp as he adds another thick finger. Both fingers curl further up, pushing against all the right spots.
You feel him lining yourself up with your entrance, his dick rubbing against your clit. His fingers leave you, quickly being replaced with his tip. You slap your hand over your mouth as he slowly inches in. You feel his calloused hand roughly yank your wrist down, pinning it to the bed. “I want to hear your pretty moans.”
Your hips involuntarily arch up as he pushes you further. You do as he says, your moans getting louder. Your head begins feeling fuzzy as you feel a slight burning. You don’t know how much more of him you can take. Finally, after what feels like centuries, his hips meet yours. The feeling of his piercing sliding against your walls is something you’ve never felt before. But you definitely don’t hate it.
He leans down, his lips capturing yours. He slowly begins thrusting his hips, groaning into your lips. He continues to thrust slowly, making sure you’re comfortable. “More... Please, Derek.” You plead, getting exhausted from his painstakingly slow pace. He pulls his lips away from yours, looking down at you. A smirk creeps onto his face, his eyebrows furrowing. “You sure you can take it?” You pull him back down on top of you, only whimpering out his name.
He immediately pulls out, slamming back into you, hitting your G-spot. You scream as he begins to relentlessly pound into you. His teeth find your neck, biting the skin beneath your pulse You dig your fingers onto his bicep, your fingernails leaving divots in his skin. Your back arches off of the bed as he continues to mindlessly ram into you.
He hoists your legs up over his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs. He mumbles out praises as he watches you squirm under him. You feel yourself climbing closer and closer to the end, your legs already beginning to shake. His hand shoots out, gently squeezing your throat. You start getting dizzy, your vision blurring.
Skin slapping skin fills the room, loud music still blaring from outside. Sweat rolls down your neck, your fingers digging even deeper into his arm. He starts groaning even louder as his thrusts start to have no rhythm. He tenses up, gripping onto you harder. He slams into your G-spot one last time before cumming into you. The feeling of his warm cum coating your walls throws you over the edge, nothing but bliss spreading through your veins. Your whole body shakes as you come down from your high.
He pulls out of you, laying down next to you. You sigh, his cum dripping out of you and running down your leg. You're sweaty and hot, but you don’t regret a thing. If you could, you’d do that a hundred times over. You look over at him and he gives you a suggestive grin.
“You should let your boyfriend drag you to my parties more often…”
hey what if i
that'd be so crazy right
ch 1 。・°°・
gender neutral pronouns, no use of y/n, clones know mando'a, crosshair doesn't turn, no beta we die like tech.
The sun had begun to slump lazily in the sky. Outcroppings of clouds blotted around it, allowing the rays to gleam down rather than the barrage of heat from early this morning. Hues of bronze and amber were slathered across the atmosphere, partly due to the dust in the air. Here past the city limits, one became acutely aware of the planet’s true climate. Roves of sand and limestone were all the eye would be met with for miles. Large, twisted succulents shot randomly out of the ground, their insides bitter and viscous with water from a long many cycles ago. The stubborn fauna was a mirror image of the people that inhabited this planet. Fierce and unyielding, hoarding what little resources are to be found, if only to assure survival for longer than tonight.
While the sun had dipped in severity, your emotions seemed to not get the memo. In fact, your heart was rattling your ribcage and wracking your nervous system. In a matter of hours you had your first customers in days, albeit shallow pocketed, and instead of doing the proper salesperson-like thing and talking Echo down to another product, you ran his pockets and asked him out.
And he said yes.
Well, not in those words. But it wasn’t a No. Or a Sure, why not. And that’s more than enough for you.
Unbeknownst to you, Echo was relying on the speeder handlebars in front of him to maintain his grip on reality.
Echo tried not to get his hopes up whenever he noticed wandering eyes on him in the past. He’d said it jokingly, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was just happy you weren’t looking at him in disgust.
Or worse, someone to pity.
You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his metal arm and scomp. You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his gait on the way to the counter. Hell, you didn’t even make mention of the piece wrapping around his skull. He didn’t even have to ask.
And now you were wrapped around his back, pushing your weight into him as he ripped across the wastes. Your arms were slinked around his core, hands folded and your pinky ghosting across the tip of his navel. While Echo’s own hands on the speeder was his current tether to reality, the warmth of your hands was equally coaxing him back out. Coaxing him backwards to rest his shoulder blades on your chest, coaxing him to let go of the handlebars, coaxing him to close his eyes, savor the moment. But he doesn’t. The same steadfast, battle-tested resolve that made him an ARC Trooper, all of that resolve, is being called upon at this moment.
Echo flicked the gear shift forward and pressed his foot down evenly, eyes honing in on the gray dot of the Marauder coming into view on the horizon. You gripped tighter with the increase in speed, and Echo’s cheeks got warm. Omega tailed closely behind.
Earlier, before the three of you had broken the city limits, Echo gave you the rundown of his ragtag family.
Tech. Wrecker. Hunter. Crosshair.
You mentally listed the members of the Batch, trying your absolute best to commit them to memory. It’ll be a lot easier once you actually see them, trust me. Echo’s words rang through your head, a metaphysical balm to your mild-yet-steadfastly brewing social anxieties.
A loud, metallic groan roused you from your thoughts. The ramp of the Marauder began to descend, and an overwhelmingly large figure appeared at the lip of the ramp.
“9-1 odds, that's Wrecker?” You call out loudly, desperate to be heard over the speeder engine. Before Echo could respond, a surly, thickly accented voice cut through the air.
“What stray did you bring in from the rain this time, eh Echo?!”
“You would be correct.” Echo glances over his shoulder at you, before turning back and calling out to his brother. “Adoption is Hunter’s speciality. Is your chip acting up again?” Wrecker answered with a barking laugh, walking off the ramp that is now level with the planet’s surface.
Echo brought the bike to a rolling stop, the engine softly tut-tut-ing before being kicked off. Omega came up beside the two of you, parking respectively. Echo stepped off the bike and stuck his hand out for you, while Wrecker came over and swooped Omega off the bike and onto his shoulders. You coyly took his hand. “Still keeping up this smooth charade?” You chide, throwing your leg over the bike and pulling yourself up with his assistance.
“Charade? Now that’s just rude.” Echo stuck his nose up, fake indignantly.
You grin, leaning into the bit. “Oh my, how may I make up for this transgression Milord?”
Wrecker and Omega watched on with shit eating grins. Neither of them were going to be the ones to break the moment, nor were they going to be the ones to tell either of you about the matching blush the two of you were wearing.
“I’m sure I’ll find a remedy in time, fret not serf.” Echo smiled as he stuck his elbow out for you to take.
“Serf? I’ll have you know my father was a knight!” It was your turn to act fake indignant, huffing and whipping your head away from Echo. Both of you erupted into laughter at the shared moment, closing in on the ramp.
Unbeknownst to you, Hunter was in the hallway, up the ramp and around the corner, a soft smile stitching its way onto his face. He, like Wrecker and Omega, was deeply enthused about his brother’s stroke of luck with you. Hunter had heard the two of you before you’d arrived, his acute senses hearing the rumblings a few klicks away.
Hunter decided to make his presence known, slipping out of the shadows and into the main doorway.
“What’s this about me adopting someone else?” Hunter says, eyes casually shifting about the group, seeming to do a mental headcount.
“Well I’m terrible with a blaster, but I can sell exhaust pipes something fierce!” You reply sarcastically, and you offer your name and a handshake. Instead, the clone claps your forearm and shakes it once. You follow the motion, entirely through muscle memory, clapping his forearm with similar force. A soft smile sits on your face at the gesture, it was something you hadn’t done in a few cycles at this point.
“Hunter, though I’m sure Echo’s filled you in already.” He offers a pleasant smile, now more curious about the stranger aboard his ship.
“He’s only given me names.” You shrug. “But, I’ve run into two of you now, and it’s a 50/50 on whether or not your moniker’s obscenely obvious. So I think I’ll be okay.” You finish the statement with a soft, mildly forced laugh, hoping to make it as obvious as possible that you’re joking.
I just made sure Echo can kinda stand my presence, I can’t have his brother be the hard sell now.
Hunter nods and closes his eyes with a soft chuckle. “You got nothing to worry about, kid. None of us bite.”
“Except maybe Crosshair.” Three separate voices say at the same time.
Laughter erupts from the hallway and cockpit. From the gunner’s nest, a hissing grimace. Hunter beckoned Wrecker and Omega into the cockpit, nodding to you and Echo as he went. The aforementioned biter slunk his way down the ladder and towards the cockpit, casting nary a glance to the new person aboard the Marauder. A toothpick flew from in front of him, twirling in the air nonchalantly before sticking upright in a crack between the durasteel paneling of the floor. Your eyes honed in on it.
“He won’t actually bite you, but good luck getting more than three words that aren’t snarky outta the vod.” Echo spoke quietly and clasped a hand between your shoulder blades, noting your gaze. “I wouldn’t let him.” He said even quieter, barely above a hum.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Once again, Echo’s simple words are a balm for mental wounds he did not cause, and completely unintentionally. You relax your shoulders, and pull them in a circle.
“So, Tech’s left, right?”
Echo nodded, and gestured with his scomp for you to lead the way. You obliged, and went up the stairs. Through a small hallway filled with a myriad of colors and buttons, you led the two of you into the cockpit.
A somewhat larger space opened up, with similar durasteel walls peppered with buttons and lights. However bulletproof panes of glass took up a majority of the wall space, looking out at the expanse of the wastes. It made the desert look even more swallowing, seeing it from a slight elevation. Nothing else for miles and miles had the view you did right now. Something about Desert Fever slung its way through your brain, some whispers you had barely overheard from stallworkers about afflicted moisture farmers on the outskirts.
“Also colloquially known as desert mania, desert fever is usually characterized with bouts of irrational behaviors and depressive episodes, as a result of the absolute nothing around you. Some hypothesize it to be an amalgamation of chronic understimulation.” A tall clone materialized next to you from the pilot’s chair.
“That was supposed to be internal, my bad. I take it you’re Tech?” You say sheepishly, rubbing a hand on your neck as you extend the other, introducing yourself.
“You are correct. Pleasure.” He replies, holding his hand up softly as to say None for me, thanks in response to your hand out. You quickly pulled it back to your side, eyes flicking to Echo behind you for mild reassurance.
Getting the message, he cleared his throat. “Where’s everyone finding themselves tonight?”
“Hunter’s busying himself inventorying the supplies brought in, Crosshair is brooding on top of the ship, and Wrecker and Omega are outside testing her ability to detonate multiple delayed explosions.” Tech replied curtly, understanding Echo’s meaning instantly. “I will retire to the bunks if you need me. I have my holopad and charger. Kandosii, vod’ika.”
Echo’s fingers twitched at his thigh again as color shot up from his collar. “Thank you Tech!” He said, very abruptly. He politely spun you around and began to push you towards the copilot’s seat.
A part of Echo prayed you weren’t paying attention to Tech all that much.
A bigger part of him knew you understood every word thrown about.