#One without effects and one with a bit of like that wobble shake thing with it

[skhardwarevers1]

Alright come and get your low quality edit of the month

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

Little SoapGhost hurt/comfort thing inspired by @/crepeycrowleys on TikTok and Guardians of the Galaxy ❤️

Task Force 141 and Los Vaqueros just came back from a successful mission and entered the mess hall. Everyone is kind of tired if not exhausted, but moods are rather positive since the mission went without any complications.

"What you did Ghost was sick, you took out those people like a machine." Gaz murmured, impressed. Ghost only hummed in acknowledgment. Ha was sitting right beside Soap, head hanging low, eyes closed. He looked a little bit out of it.

"Yeah hermano, you are an absolute beast! You should teach us your secrets." Alejandro trowed in, and when passing behind Ghost he briefly laid his hand flat on Ghost's back. Soap could feel him tense beside him so he moved a few inches away from him. Reading his body language as "Don't wanna be touched by anyone right now."

But when he did Ghost tightly gripped his jeans under the table they sat at and he ducked his head lower to the side, away from Soap. No one noticed that his eyes went from closed to tightly shut, skin wrinkled around them.

"If I was on the other side I would be convinced you were a monster, with the effectiveness of yours, Lt." Soap pondered, he was about to take a sip of his coffee when Ghost stood up, almost knocking the boiling hot drink from Sergeant's hand. Some of it spilled on Soap's thighs.

"Ghost! What the fuck?!" He fumed, but Ghost bolted before he could even look at him.

"What was that?" Gaz asked confused.

Soap was pissed that he got burned with his coffee, but the anger didn't last long when he realized that something must have caused that kind of reaction. He looked around and saw lots of glares pointed at their table.

"The fuck you're looking at?" He growled at the recruits standing from the table himself.

Price that sat silent this whole time signed "You should probably go after him Soap."

"Was planning on it, Sir" He headed to the exit, leaving confused Kyle and visibly concerned Price behind.

Soap didn't know what could agitate the Lieutenant so much, but he also knew that whatever it was, made Ghost feel suffocated. If it was anger he wouldn't do something like this, Soap was well aware that the other man managed his anger quite well. Never screaming or bursting out. Ghost's fury was silent it was sadness and being miserable he couldn't deal with.

The search for Ghost didn't last long, Soap knew he will be in one of the empty training rooms, punching a bag like it took something important from him. Soap sat on one of the benches with barbells.

"Leave me alone, Sergeant." Ghost hissed, voice hoarse.

"Talk to me, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing." He punched the bag harder. His hands were bare and Soap saw blood starting to color Ghost's knuckles. He stood up and braced himself against the swinging bag. To his surprise Ghost didn't stop punching it making Soap stumble a little, but he stood his ground.

"JOHNNY FOR FUCK SAKE!" Ghost punched it one last time and stopped. His breathing was erratic and his voice broke mid-sentence.

"Ghost-"

"DO YOU ALL THINK I WANTED TO BE LIKE THIS?! I DIDN'T ASK TO BE BORN!" He screamed, flinging his hands.

Soap stood there, too stunned to speak.

"I DIDN'T ASK TO BE TORTURED AND... and put back together! And now all of you think that I am- I am some kind of an animal!" His voice wavered, hands shaking.

Soap finally reached out a hand to Ghost but he stepped back. "Ghost no one thinks that."

"Gaz called me a machine." Tears pulled in Ghost's eyes, Soap could see it even with the balaclava. It broke Soap's heart. "Alejandro said I am a beast." His voice was wobbly and guttural. He took a deep, unsteady breath, tears flowing freely now. Soaking the material of his mask. "You- you said I was a monster. You of all people said that." It was a whisper between Ghost sobbing and wheezing.

Soap never saw Ghost like that, he never saw anybody cry like that. And it was like needles to his heart because he caused it.

"Oh Simon, we didn't mean that." He reached out his hand again, but Ghost didn't move away this time. When Soap laid his hand on his shoulders he could feel the full-body tremors going through Ghost.

"You said I was stone cold."

Soap slowly raised his free hand to Ghost's cheek, searching his eyes for any kind of disapproval. He wasn't met with one.

"I know, I didn't mean that, I really didn't and I am so sorry for ever saying that. We didn't know, I didn't know and I shouldn't have made those comments." He felt Ghost hiccup under his fingers. "We didn't mean it, Simon. You are an amazing soldier and we all admire that, I am sorry we worded it like this. You are a person and we know it. I know it Si. I owe you my life and I want you to know that I- we would always protect you. Like you protect us. " Soap slowly embraced Ghost, mindful of his body language. He still trembled in his arms but slowly Ghost laid his hands on Soap's back and gripped his t-shirt tightly. Head hidden in the crook of Soap's neck. His breath slowly evened out.

"Don't pull away from me Johnny, please." Ghost's voice was uncharacteristically small and vulnerable.

"I won't. I promise I will never do that. I am so sorry." He rubbed his hands between Ghost's shoulder blades and on his neck. They stayed like this for what could be hours.

So... I hoped you liked it? Kinda the first time doing angst, hurt/comfort.

[latibvles]

I am once again late to an ask game, but can I humbly request 7 with Liebgott and Rita? I just *clenches fist* I love them your honor

"lexi," I say in the mirror. "you need to stop writing so much postwar stuff." I raise my hand up, defensively. "I see you and I hear you, however .. world hard and cold joerita hurt/comfort soft and warm." warning for the word whore being used once, not from Lieb though

#7 THE THINGS YOU SAID WHERE THE WATER WAS LOUD.

“Fucking shit.”

“Over there!”

Rita rushes down the sidewalk towards the bus stop, ducking under the awning with Joe right behind her. They were  both effectively soaked — if they continued to make their way to Rita’s apartment, they’d probably end up effectively waterlogged. She sighs, reaching up to wring out her hair a little bit, if only to give herself some form of reprieve. Joe whistles lowly, drowned out a little by the drops rattling against the roof.

“S’really coming down, huh?” Rita nods, looking at her pruney fingers.

“Yeah. Summer storms’ll do that. Daisy warned me to take an umbrella.”

He presses his lips into a line at her flippantness. If she was being completely honest — she’d been waiting for him to snap on her since he showed up at the office without warning. And it made sense why Daisy tried to call her, he probably stopped at the apartment first and knowing her friend, she wasn’t going to lie to him about her whereabouts. It wasn’t like it was a secret that they lived together — she just… never picked up the phone, avoided it when she knew he was on the other line.

“So how’ve you been?” he asks, continuously looking out at the shower. “Haven’t heard from you in a while.” She recognizes the tone, the sarcasm laced in it, the tongue in his cheek. She balls her hands into fists.

“Don’t do that.” Rita grits her teeth as he looks at her.

“Do what?” His brows furrow, lips pulling into a proper frown.

“That. Getting all catty. Just call me a bitch and a whore and get it over with so we can go back and play nice for Daisy’s sake.” Joe scoffs, walking to one side of the awning and back as he runs his fingers through his wet hair.

“You really think I crossed the entire goddamn country just to call you fucking names?!” He asks incredulously

 Rita mimics his scoff, folding her arms over her chest.

“Th’hell am I supposed to think?! I didn’t ask you to come all this way, you did that on your own!” She snaps, her voice rising over the pounding of the rain, arms wrapping around herself in a hug to stave off the chill of rainwater running down her back.

“What else was I supposed to do?!” Joe matches her volume, gaping at her statement as though she has three heads.

“Never see me again!”

“Is that it? You never want to see me again, Rita?” She laughs bitterly, looking down but not faltering.

“Of course not.” He leans down to look her in the eye.

“Then why did you leave me?”

“Cause I had nothing to offer you, Joe!” She snaps, whipping her head up to look at him again. His jaw is clenched, his entire body rigid and eyes pleading. Her lip wobbles and she swallows the lump forming in her throat. “The war was one thing — but did you really want to bring home a girl who’s own parents didn’t even want her? I left Europe with nothing. Hell, even living together was Daisy’s idea. She kept me off the streets when I came back.” Her voice trembles in a way that she hates, and she hugs herself a little tighter. He reaches up, a cold hand pressing against her cheek.

“That’s not who I was bringing home,” He argues with a shake of his head. “I wanted to bring home the woman that kept my head screwed on straight in all of Holland. The only one I was thinkin’ about in Bastogne,” his thumb rubs small circles into her cheek, goosebumps rise on her skin. “You never had to give me anything. Ever. I only wanted you. I fuckin’ missed you, Dee.”

In spite of herself, she smiles at his honesty, leaning into the welcomed chill of his hand and sniffling. She isn’t sure if it’s from the emotions threatening to spill over, or if it’s the early onset of a cold. It might very well be the latter.

“You said wanted.” She points out, softly. His lips curl into a smile, a bit wolfish, but also holding the same kind of tender sincerity he looked at her with at several points in Europe. With the rain beating on the awning like a drum, drowning out their conversation from the rest of the world, he says only one thing in reply.

“I crossed the entire fuckin’ country to see you and you think I don’t still want you?”

[fast-run-cheat-gta-5-pq]

fast run cheat gta 5 mod menu 811J%

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Xbox One / Xbox Series X: Y, LEFT, RIGHT, RIGHT, LT, LB, X. Fast Run GTA 5 Cheat Demo Video ; Xbox /Xbox One: Y, Left, Right, Right, LT, LB, X ; PS3/PS4: Triangle, Left, Right, Right, L2, L1, Square ; PC: CATCHME ; Cell. If you're a fan of chaos and explosions you'll probably find yourself out in the desert without a ride. If that's the case. Sprint fast – ; Max health and armour – ; High jump – ; Get Invincible – Use these GTA 5 cheats on PC, Xbox , Xbox One, Xbox Series X/S, Fast Run: Y, LEFT, RIGHT, RIGHT, LT, LB, X; Fast Swim: LEFT LEFT LB. We have all the GTA 5 cheats you need if you want to shake up the game with cheat codes that can drop weapons, ammo, and cars on demand; or give you super powers like invincibility or exploding punches. On PlayStation and Xbox these codes can are entered with the D-pad and buttons, or via your in-game phone, which also is the main way on PC along with console commands. We can help you with how to enter cheats in GTA 5 and we've got all the GTA 5 car cheats covered as well if you want to spawn in a vehicle of your choice. Whatever you're after, these codes are be entered via your in-game phone, or by pressing controller buttons, and can add a range of modifiers, gear, spawns and lots more to change thing a little or a lot - you can make things easier to ease you through a tricky patch, or go complexly crazy with a chaos world full of moon gravity and random explosions. The only thing you won't find are GTA 5 money cheats. GTA 5 cash is sacred and can't be cheated, however that guides covers everything can do to get as much of it as possible. A word of warning though, using cheats will instantly disable trophies and achievements. You can re-enter codes to turn them off again but it's probably best to restart the game after if you do want to chase any awards. It's also probably a good idea to do your cheating on a separate save just in case anything breaks - you don't want to ruin your main game save. So, with those warnings out of the way, here are all the cheat codes for GTA 5, and how to enter them in the game. It won't make you invincible unless you keep entering it but it will heal you fully instantly. Perfect if you've got into a bit of a pickle and need to squeak through some extended carnage. This invincibility cheat will give you five minutes of invulnerability. In that time, as long as it lasts you can take any level of damage, and walk away like nothing happened. If you're planning some five star action this is just what you need. If, for some reason you want to raise your wanted level, this will add a star to it each time you enter the code. Obviously that will mean more police, helicopter, shooting, screaming. It's a challenge. If you're trying to avoid trouble this Lower Wanted Level cheat in GTA 5 will take off one star every time you enter it. Ideal if you've drawn a little too much heat and want things to cool down a little bit. That's Franklin Driving Focus ability to slow time when you're driving. Michael's Bullet Time ability and Trevor's Red Mist berserk mode which decreases damage taken, and boosts damage inflicted. If you're high up and want to get down fast, this will probably do the job. The GTA 5 weapons and ammo cheat code tops off all your weapons. It'll give you everything in terms of guns, and fill all your ammo reserves. Certainly saves driving to Ammu-Nation. As the name suggests this code will instantly make your character drunk, complete with the blurry screen effects and wobbly walking. Not really. Oh yes. If you're bored of the usual movement speed on foot this cheat will enhance your running speed to superhuman levels. Just watch those corners. 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If you want to get some slow motion action when you aim then this is the GTA 5 cheat for you. Not only will kit let you squeeze of shots at your leisure but it can be cycled through three levels each time you enter it. Otherwise known as the Bang Bang cheat in GTA 5, this will give you explosive bullets that detonate whenever they hit anything. Super useful if you really need to kill absolutely everything in your line of sight. As the name suggests this GTA 5 cheat makes your bullets set things on fire. Every time they hit something you'll get a little burst of flames and, if whatever you hit is flammable, it'll catch fire. Turns out people are surprisingly flammable in GTA 5. This slows the entire game down. Like the slow mo aiming cheat it cycles through 3 levels by re-entering the code, but remember - it slows everything down. So it's not great for getting anything done. The Change Weather cheat let's you cycle through all the various weather options every time you enter it. You don't have any more control than that so keep entering it until you find the option you want. Say good bye to cornering and prepare to crumple everything you drive into a big ol' mess. You can use the GTA 5 director mode cheat to play as any characters and alter a lot of the games parameter to create all sorts of adventures. That's it: a big boom somewhere. Prepare for chaos. You have two options when it comes to activating GTA 5 cheats. On PS5, PS4 and Xbox you can turn cheats on and off by simply entering the correct sequence of buttons. You'll need to enter them quickly in a sequence and you'll know if you got it right because you'll see a notification on-screen. You can also bring up your phone in-game and dial the number listed for each cheat - this is the main way to enter codes on PC. These phone numbers always start and then a number which spells out the cheat via the letters on the number pad. It might be worth starting a new, cheat-free game as well just to be sure. You can summon a vehicle using your phone, or with specific button sequences on console. Let's cover the phone numbers first as they work on everything. There are also three vehicles you can only summon if you've completed specific missions. There's more details in the full list below but here are the numbers:. You'll need to have unlocked the Dodo first so use this to get it if you don't have it already - GTA 5 Dodo seaplane unlock and location. Perhaps after all that you're looking for a different challenge? If so, then there are plenty of other games like GTA you can check out instead. I'm currently GamesRadar's Senior Guides Co-ordinator, which means I've had a hand in producing or writing all of the guide and tips content on the site. I also write reviews, previews and features, and do video. I'm a big fan of open world games, horror, and narrative adventures. Total Film. Leon Hurley. With contributions from Iain Wilson Guides Editor. See comments.

[allisonlol]

Hihi, can I request for how chuuya,akutagawa and fyodor would react to s/o getting dizzy and lightheaded easily when she stands up maybe too fast. Thank you

a/n: FELT THIS #iron deficiency gang

warnings: descriptions or vertigo, feeling dizzy etc ?? idk if that needs a warning but just in case-

(Chuuya, Fyodor, Aku) With a S/O That gets Dizzy Easily

Chuuya

no matter how many times it happens, he always gets so concerned

whenever he sees you stand up and wobble a bit from being dizzy, he’ll rush over to wrap an arm around your waist so you don’t fall

the first time it happened he almost brought you to the ER and you had to convince him that you’re fine, it’s just a little vertigo from standing up too fast

chuuya will literally SCOLD you whenever you do this 🤨

shakes his head at you...while also holding your hand to keep you steady

on one night in particular, the two of you were at a fancy restaurant on a date when it happened

except this time, chuuya wasn’t fast enough to stop you from falling...resulting in you crashing into the table and spilling the drinks all over yourself

the worst part? the wine stained your formal clothes >:(

chuuya had to self restain from killing all the other people in the restaurant who’d laughed at you,,,it just wasn’t a good time LMAO

still insists you should see a doctor for your condition even if it’s just something minor

you wave him off everytime tho

good thing you’ll always have your boyfriend around to sit next to you and help you up so you don’t collapse

plus this means he gets to touch you more...

Fyodor

fyodor is anemic so this is something he deals with as well

both of you just be blacking out like a video game cut-screen whenever you try to stand 🧍🏻‍♀️

y’all cling to each other when trying to stand up at the same time LMAO

on a more serious note 

fyodor does get concerned for your safety even though he knows it’s nothing serious

is always there to offer you a hand when you need to stand

you tend to...jump up too quickly which is the reason this happens in the first place 

he finds this very amusing and will smirk whenever you get woozy and wobble on your feet

never lets you fall tho; will always be there to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you into him for support

probably makes you take iron pills or some shit so you won’t get as dizzy

i have to take iron pills every morning and...they nasty af 

this one day in particular, you came home after spending the day with friends and fyodor could tell something was wrong

turns out you’d fallen in the bar in front of everyone, effectively spilling your drink all over yourself and then slipping on it-

you admit how the other customers had blatantly laughed at you and...fyodor is so angry omg

personally finds and kills every single person who laughed at you (excluding your friends)

the only person allowed to make fun of you is HIM 🙄

Akutagawa

he gets so scared every. damn. time.

the second he sees you swaying slightly after standing, he’s by your side grabbing onto you 

literally yells “ARE YOU OK”

EVERY SINGLE TIME

he’s just very concerned and worries a lot </3

please reassure him that it’s nothing serious

even after you say that, he’ll still insist to always be next to you when you’re going to be doing a lot of fast movements

eheh...

anyways

aku is another one that will force you to take iron pills or drink more water...whatever might help

practically turns into your shadow lmao...that’s how closely he follows you

overprotective aku is cute af tho

keeps a close eye on you in public in case it starts happening there

this also gives him an excuse to hold your hand without having to…yknow…blatantly admit he just wants to hold ur hand

it’s unlikely that you’ll ever end up actually collapsing from it with aku around

he can immediately sense when you’re feeling lightheaded and will put an arm around you or give you something to drink so u feel better 🥺

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Adding to the Jurdan date thing. Cardan totally holds Jude's hands while they skate. Like Jude is shaking trying not to fall in the middle of the rink and Cardan is just patiently holding her hands

gvskdjdks cuteness overload x10000!! 🥺😭❤️ okay but fleshing out this ice skating date hc with this precious suggestion (and more) cos ice skating is actually my fav date activity and it deserves its own post.

Rating: T

CW: fluff, potentially cavity inducing

My Fic Masterlist  |  Theories and Analysis

Cold Hands (Warm Hearts) | Jurdan Date HC

ice skating is a favourite pastime for Elfhame's most high royal couple.

Cardan first finds himself intrigued by the concept of ice skating after watching Yuri on Ice with Jude and Vivi. the combination of music, dance, a dramatic sense of fashion, and the small thrill of balancing on what are effectively knives on a slippery surface give him all the incentive he needs.

he implores Jude to try it with him.

cos, ya know... she likes knives and all.

Jude, on the other hand, only agrees to go because it'll be either 1) a fun thing they can learn together, or 2) hilarious to watch Cardan bust his ass on the ice.

(lbr she secretly hopes for #2)

but to her dismay, she couldn't have been more wrong.

they mostly go to the indoor rink in the mortal world at the beginning because the rink provides patrons with skates.

as it turns out, Cardan is naturally good at ice skating. eerily good, in fact.

he's light on his feet, like a snowflake whirling on a winter's squall, but still driven as an arrow shot forth from a bow.

Jude is, woefully, the exact opposite of that.

the High King attributes his talent to his "honed skill set", and when Jude asks what the hell that means (while clinging to the wall of the rink, disgruntled and trying not to bust her ass on the ice), he responds:

it requires a grace only years of dancing completely “shit-faced” at revels could've given him.

Jude laughs, not only at the mortal turn-of-phrase for “drunk” (which sounds weird coming off of Cardan's courtly tongue), but also because he's utterly right.

ice skating, to Jude, feels precisely like being shit-faced at a party, but without the brain fuzz or maudlin displays. 

(and the music is a bit different, too, she supposes)

but all of this is perhaps worse because she’s not drunk. 

at least when she's drunk she's not exactly aware of how foolish she looks. or if she is aware of it, she no longer possesses the inhibition to care.

and Jude tries not to care now. though, scrabbling along a plastic wall just to stay vertical when you're completely sober is a humbling affair, to say the least.

it's certainly a far cry from sitting atop a gilded throne in Faerie.

but maybe ice skating isn't actually so different from Faerie, after all.

there are loads of people infinitely more graceful and elegant than herself, swirling around her like existing on ice is the easiest thing in the world. like their feet have sprouted wings.

(she does know a few faeries with that particular attribute, actually)

so Jude is used to others soaring where she is lacking. that's practically the story of her life.

but it's been so long since she began anything. if she's not a master, she is normally at least competent at any task posed to her.

the High Queen has forgotten the vulnerable discomfort of being new. how newness fits about as well as a stiff leather boot worn directly into battle.

it's not all bad, though.

Jude makes a list of things she likes about ice skating in her head to distract herself from the ache in her arms, the wobble in her knees.

there are costumes. so naturally, Cardan insists on wearing one every time they skate, even though he is neither performing nor training to perform.

Cardan's butt in skating pants.

the face Cardan makes while he's skating. it's one Jude rarely sees from him. it's pure joy, radiating. Jude needs to remember to bring a camera next time, so she can capture it.

and that's about all she can think of at the moment.

all the good things about ice skating are really about Cardan and she's okay.

she's fine.

not scared at all.

she could totally let go of the wall if she wanted to.

she just doesn't want to.

so she doesn't.

Cardan always has a marvellous time.

he loves the way Jude looks all bundled up in mortal winter clothes.

her mittens are overlarge and make her hands look like two periwinkle flippers, which Cardan finds endearing. a dark green knit scarf swaddles her neck, and she has on a hat with a pom-pom on top that bobbles every time she moves.

(at the shop, she'd called the pom-pom humiliating and he'd called it adorable and then she'd called him patronising, which he probably deserved for something at some point in their marriage, and it wasn't until he tacked on the "-ly murderous. i love it" that she begrudgingly added it to their basket)

he loves the way the cold air of the arena pinkens Jude's cheeks.

and the way he catches her blowing out a breath every so often, just to see it briefly frost the air.

he loves the way she looks at him when he skates by, like he's the moon come around to greet her again.

and the way her eyes trail him around the rink, even if she can't follow.

he likes the costumes too, because they make him feel more at home in the mortal world than he's used to feeling. 

but he especially likes them for the way Jude ogles his backside when she thinks he's not looking.

doesn’t she know he always is?

after a few laps alone, Cardan invariably skates up to wherever Jude is on the wall, claiming his hands are at risk of frost bite and they'd better do something about it "quick, before they fall off."

she always says, "you should've bought some mittens."

to which he replies, "Yuri never wore mittens," just to make Jude smile and roll her eyes and offer him some form of body heat.

one time, she unbuttoned her coat in response, and Cardan slid his hands underneath the open flaps, around her waist, pulling her to his chest.

then, he had a brilliant idea.

which is usually a fair indicator of a terrible idea where Cardan is concerned.

"keep your feet together, knees bent, and hold on," he told her.

she gave him one panicked look, said, "Cardan don–" before he shoved them away from the wall and out into open ice.

immediately, her arms locked around his middle. she squeezed her eyes shut, hiding her face in the ruffled lapels of his shirt.

Jude was hugging him, which was perhaps his goal all along.

what was definitely not expected was the vicelike grip she had. he felt like the magician's assistant being sawed in half at Oak's last birthday party.

but Cardan took it in stride. maybe she would relax once they got going.

she did not relax.

she allowed him his fun for approximately half a lap before she begged him to bring her back to the wall.

and since Jude begged, Cardan did just that.

another time, Cardan skated up behind Jude, wrapped her in a bear hug, and snaked his hands under the flaps of her coat.

the chill of his hands against her hips made her squeal a little and elbow him in the stomach.

he still managed to plant a kiss on her temple, though.

"do you trust me?" he asked softly against the rounded shell of her ear.

"unfortunately," she said, a little breathless.

he told her to hold onto his arms. keep her feet together. keep her knees bent. she was safe. he had her. she was safe.

then, slowly, he pushed them off the wall and out into the middle of the rink.

it was better this time. Jude was facing forward and could see where they were going and what was coming.

Cardan loved the way her hair smelled, like amber and oud. the way it felt against his cheek as he manoeuvred them across the rink.

Jude must have felt more in control this way, because they skated like this for a few minutes without much objection.

but it was still unwise, because when two teenagers shot by at break-neck speeds, Cardan lost his footing and they ended up in a heap of limbs and laughter on the ice.

which Cardan also loved, mostly because Jude's laugh is loud and contagious and so very rare.

if there was a way to drink laughter, he’d never need another taste of wine again.

most of the time, when Cardan declares frost bite, Jude says, "we can share my mitten if you hold me up."

so they clasp hands inside of one of Jude's too-big periwinkle mittens. it's the perfect size for both of them.

Jude holds onto the wall with her other mittened hand, and they skate carefully around the edge of the rink together for one whole wobbly lap.

then, they switch hands and go the other direction for a second wobbly lap.

his favourite laps are always the ones they skate together.

and Cardan realises much of the good things about ice skating are really about Jude.

but there are a few things he enjoys for himself, too.

he loves the way it feels to glide. it's a little like flying only vastly less terrifying and with far less stakes if you fall.

and secretly, though he'd never say it out loud, he likes that it's something he's better at than Jude (a rare thing to behold).

and secretly, though she'd never say it out loud, Jude likes it because Cardan likes it.

(besides, she knows it's something she can get better at if she practices)

eventually, Cardan decides to buy himself and Jude their own skates to bring back to Elfhame.

and sometimes, if he has the time, he freezes over a lake or pond on Insmire to practice. and sometimes, if she has time, Jude joins him.

and every time Jude joins him, the oddest thing happens.

Cardan finds that his hands grow curiously, remarkably cold.

•••••••

AN: this was just a little wintery HC, I hope y'all enjoyed it! Let me know if you’d like to be part of my tag list, or if you thought you were and I missed you somehow. 

As always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :’) thanks for the inspiring ask @the-hospitality-of-knives ! ❤️

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[hansensgirl]

you better not shout, better not cry.

summary. | they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.

pairings. | Dark!Sebastian Stan x Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader, Dark!Charles Blackwood x Reader, Dark!Chris Evans x Reader, Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader, Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader, Dark!Andy Barber x Reader.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, gang bang, eight-some, (forced and not forced) drinking, manipulation, coercion, dark themes, crimes, threatening, slight angst, mentions of cheating, age gaps, Daddy kink, Sir kink, power dynamics, boss/employee relationships, face fucking, oral (m receiving), dom/sub, finger sucking, degrading, praise, humiliation, voyeurism, fingering, double penetration, cum marking, facials, anal, unprotected sex, cream-pie kink, slapping, spanking, smoking, choking, hair pulling, manhandling, + more. 18+, DARK FIC.

word count. | 13k.

authors note. | merry christmas/happy holidays! please be wary of the warnings, and have yourself a merry christmas and/or a great day! don’t use my gif without permission, and don’t forget to read and reblog because i worked so hard on this. IF YOU’RE INSPIRED BY THIS FIC OR WANT TO USE A SIMILAR PLOT PLEASE MESSAGE ME FIRST OR ELSE YOU’LL BE BLOCKED. love you all sm! also gonna be submitting this to my bb @mypoisonedvine’s festive holiday challenge! (ty for beta-ing and putting up with me).

Make my wish come true… All I want for Christmas is you…

A group of women erupts in laughter as they point at one of the ugly sweaters that their coworker wears. The man burns up with shame before grumbling off, making you furrow your eyebrows. You stifle a laugh, before grabbing a sugar cookie that you baked yourself. Little red sprinkles fall to the floor as you bite into the treat, the sound drowned out by the others.

The melodious voice of Mariah Carey starts playing and everyone cheers; you included. You quickly shut up, though, realizing how stupid you must look. Standing there by yourself, an elf costume on, stuffing your face full of cookies as you yell.

You find comfort in the numerous Christmas-themed treats — from sugar cookies to Rice Krispies, to cake pops. Your mouth salivates at the sight even though you just had a cookie. Everything is so irresistible… “Merry Christmas Eve!” A cheery voice calls from behind you, and your heart quickens its pace.

“Oh- uh, Merry Christmas Eve to you too, Mr. Barnes.” You stammer in shock, careful to not look up at him. You fiddle your crumb-covered fingers together, a habit that you have yet to lose. “No need to be nervous, doll. Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks, grabbing one of the cookies that are covered in green sprinkles. It’s shaped like a Christmas tree, and it’s one of your favourites.

“Uh, yes, Sir!” You answer quickly and nervously. Undeniably, everyone knows that Mr. Barnes drips with eloquence and dominance. As soon as he walks into the room, everyone either wants to be with him or be him. Everyone vies after him, and he knows that. He knows that, and he just makes it worse and worse and- “Why’re you alone by the snack table, doll?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh well- I’m not overly friendly with the others- I mean I’m not rude to them! I’m just not close to them, that’s all.” You ramble nervously, wringing your hands. Bucky places a heavy hand on your shoulder and the butterflies in your start fluttering even harder and faster.

You struggle to look him in the eyes, those darned cerulean eyes that make you weak in the knees. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that… Have you been drinking, doll?” He asks you, and you choke on your saliva. “Oh I don’t drink, sorry if I’m being annoying…” You sheepishly apologize, realizing how out of line you must be acting. Truthfully, Mr. Barnes always has that effect on you.

“Uh- I should probably go see if everything is in order.” You say before Mr. Barnes can say anything else to you. “Happy Holidays!” You call out as you speed walk as far away your legs can take you. Three glasses of eggnog have you wobbling slightly but you’re determined to be far away from Mr. Barnes and the others.

In a way, they aren’t really your bosses. They’re just the CEOs and your boss is the head of the HR department. …Perhaps they are your bosses, but you’ve never really talked to them much. Mr. Bodecker’s temper always frightens you, Mr. Blackwood’s stare would always have you shaking, Mr. Barnes’s aura always makes you weak, and then there’s Mr. Stan himself. Everything about him sends numerous emotions through you and others as well.

You lean back against the wall and pull your phone out, sighing with a heavy heart. You’re not sure if it’s the heavy nostalgia of seeing Santa Claus sitting on a throne or the wallpaper on your screen but either one makes you tear up slightly. You already took photos of the party, and you’ve already sent well wishes to your friends, family and coworkers.

You look back up from your phone and try to decide whether or not you should scroll through your camera roll just to look busy to others. Whilst you ponder with your hazy mind, you accidentally lock eyes with Santa Claus. Younger you would’ve freaked out, but older you burns up with embarrassment. Suddenly, his white-gloved hand beckons you to him with a come-hither motion.

You point at yourself just to make sure because only you know how many mistakes you’ve made of thinking that someone was pointing at you. He nods and smiles, but you’re still not sure. Call it paranoia, call it anxiety, but there’s no way in hell that you’re going to make a fool of yourself on Christmas Eve.

You’re still unsure, so you look around and everyone else is off getting wasted in the main hall. Shiny confetti crunches under your flats as you hesitatingly walk over to Santa. He flashes you a smile and maybe it’s the egg nog talking but his pearly whites look awfully familiar to you. A waitress crosses your path, like a deer suddenly crossing the road. The platter that she holds gets slightly jilted but the shot glasses of tequila survive and her too.

You stop her and grab a couple of shots, taking them down the hatch with no shame at all. Liquid fire claims your throat as you have no remorse for your future self who’ll be hugging a toilet in the morning. You cough and sputter as you continue your way to Santa Claus. “Merry Christmas Eve, little girl!” He cheers delightfully.

You giggle drunkenly, the kind of laugh that would make anyone fall for you. “Oh, so no ‘Merry Christmas Eve’ for me? Seems like someone is asking for coal, or maybe even a spanking.” He drawls in a slight country-Santa accent. Perhaps your ears aren’t deceiving you, but there's no plausible way that Santa Claus just said… that.

“Oh— uh— Merry Christmas Eve!” You whoop, before bursting out in another fit of bubbly giggles. He laughs with you, but only for a few moments before taking in your appearance. Though you’re drunk on tequila, a few sips of wine from before the party and eggnog, he’s aiming to get drunk on your aura. Quiet yet sweet, a nervous mess that only furthers your adorable-ness and amazing desserts.

“See something you like, Mr. Claus?” You question him, snapping him out of his daze. You wiggle your eyebrows to your best ability, but you’re no actress. “Well, maybe I do, little girl.” He winks at you, and you swear that you’ve seen him before. “Wait- Do you work here? Or did we just hire you?” You ask him, as though you’re interviewing him.

“Can’t hire Santa Claus, little girl.” He disappointingly clicks his tongue. You let out an ‘oh’ before letting out a small laugh. He smiles at you and you bite your lipstick stained lip. Your coworkers are chanting in the background but you choose to artfully block them out. Maybe you’re not choosing, and it’s just the alcohol doing its wonders.

“I’m not little, why are you callin’ me little girl?” You slur your words as you question him again. “You are a little girl, and I can’t believe you’re back talking to Santa!” He scolds you, making your eyes water. You jut your bottom lip out in a pout and you’re doing the best puppy eyes that you can. “You been drinking a lot, huh little girl?” He asks you, turning the tables and you gladly let him.

“Yep! Gotta stay hydrated…” You tell him in a sing-song voice that makes him chuckle. “Silly little girl, getting all drunk in front of her coworkers…” He chides, grabbing your almost flailing arms. He pulls you up into his lap with a grunt, even though it doesn’t take much strength. You’re immediately reminded of the way he used to sit you in his lap.

Spinning you around in circles at first, loud giggles and begging for them to stop. Perhaps it’s fortunate that the alcohol renders your mind fuzzy and you can only make out a few colour blobs. “Whaddya’ want for Christmas, little girl?” He teasingly questions, smoothing a white-gloved hand over your hair. “Hmm, I can have anything?” You ask him, a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of your mouth. He nods, taking his thumb and lifting it to your mouth.

Oh, how he has the urge to just push his thumb past your lips and make you choke on it. “Well… I want a raise, even though I’m not all that worthy of the company… Just like my ex said, I’m easily replaceable. Oh! Can I ask for another thing?” You perk up even though your throat burns with sadness and your eyes are almost leaking.

Interested, Lee nods and drags his thumb across your rouge top lip. If he didn’t have a wife who drags him to makeup stores on the regular, he would’ve thought your lipstick was expensive. But it isn’t, because there’s no way your paycheck can afford a lipstick from Hermes or Christian Louboutin. “Can I know why my boyfriend left me? I know I may seem dull and quiet, but I have more to myself…” You sadly ask him, ashamed of how he abandoned you for one of your closest friends.

Lee’s heart breaks in two — making him question whether or not he had a heart after all. Insults had him believing that he’s heartless, but you’re making him question every fibre of his being. “I’m sorry about that, little girl. But what we don’t know can’t hurt us, right? Curiosity killed the cat, little girl.” He reminds you, talking down to you as though you truly are a little girl. “But satisfaction brought it back.” You sass in return, your voice cracking from the impending tears and alcohol.

“You need to listen to me, little girl. Your boyfriend doesn’t know jackshit about treating a girl like you right. He probably doesn’t even know where your clit is.” He scoffs abruptly. You lean in, listening to him as though he’s the wisest man ever. “Bet he can’t fuck that tight lil’ pussy a’ yours as well as a real man like me can.” He whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine and heat to your core.

“Didn’t know Santa Claus had such a filthy mouth…” You tease him, running your hands up and down his thick thighs. He groans, his cock stiffening up inside his red trousers.

“But, before anything like that happens… I would really like to have a raise.” You say with a heavy-hearted sigh. Lee has the urge to grab you tightly and shove his big, hard cock into any wet hole of yours. “Alright, little girl. But you need to continue to be a good girl, or else I won’t be able to get you anything except for a spanking.” He warns with a faux-smile beneath his fake beard. You giggle and squeeze his thighs, almost like a wave goodbye.

You stumble off, probably to go pee or hurl your guts into a toilet. He watches as your hips sway with each step of yours. The sight fuels the thought of you grinding yourself on his cock as you beg him to fuck you. He notices the party has died down to just people humping each other to party songs. Grumbling, Lee pulls the awfully fake beard away from his handsome face. Before, he was cursing his luck for drawing the short stick to become Santa. But now, he’s glad.

He’ll talk to your boss about the raise, maybe along with a promotion. If only the others could mind their own businesses. Literally. He’s glad that he wore only a dress shirt and not the double-breasted suit Jane suggested for him. “You comin’ or what? We gotta’ make these deals before everyone leaves.” Bucky asks as he swiftly walks past Lee. Lee nods and starts to take off the rest of the obnoxious costume. Bucky puts no effort into stifling his chuckle, a known trait of his.

Bucky smooths his hair back, even though not one strand is out of place. His arm whirrs wildly and his fist clenches every few seconds. His stress symptoms were the worst, but they’ve never been this bad. It’s risky; the deal that they’re about to make. For months, they had been making secret bribes, forging numbers and signatures, and putting their employees in loopholes from their contracts. But this deal was the riskiest. Their plan was well thought out, all thanks to Charles, whose middle name might as well be devious.

He stands in front of one of the glass doors. His reflection looks back at him. Somehow, the dark look in his eyes becomes enhanced. His huge frame only makes him more intimidating, but he knows that no woman ever had a problem with it. Except for one. “You comin’?” Lee asks as he brushes past Bucky, mocking his words from earlier on. Bucky rolls his eyes like a spoiled rich kid because he is one.

Bucky buttons his suit jacket and exhales one last time. He walks to his right and pushes the door open with only a little bit of strength. Laughter from different men fills the room, along with thick tension and the smell of expensive booze. “Oh, look who decided to join us!” Ransom sarcastically jabs at Bucky. “Look who finally got laid. I was beginning to think you couldn’t get it up anymore, Drysdale.” Bucky sneers at him, pouring himself a glass of Dalmore 62.

Ransom grumbles a few curse words under his breath and a prideful smirk spreads across Bucky’s face. They all have their ties loosened, maybe even the top buttons of their shirts but nobody cares enough to look. All but Mr. Stan and Mr. Evans are relaxed. They stare at each other with such glares they could murder one another. They all sit in their chairs, all similar. Except for Mr. Stan, who seems as though he’s sitting on a throne.

“They havin’ a starin’ contest or what?” Lee questions Bucky, downing the rest of the whiskey. “I don’t know, but didn’t they hate each other over some family feud shit?” Bucky asks in return, handing Lee the bottle of highland malt scotch. “Like the game?” Lee jokingly asks, knowing that the two head owners of the companies loved to get into petty squabbles. “We all fucking wish.” Bucky jeers, eliciting a chuckle from Lee. As much as they all hate each other, they always did have their moments when they weren’t insulting each other.

The only one who isn’t drinking, Andy, pipes up from all the talking. “So are we going to make this deal or not? I gotta get home for Christmas.” He grumbles just like the old man he is. “Oh fuck you, Barber. Just because you went to Harvard doesn’t mean you’re some busy guy.” Steve jabs, clenching his jaw in annoyance. He always hated Andy, and he proudly showed it.

Charles snickers, Ransom too. Lee and Bucky smirk from the sidelines. Andy clicks his tongue in a threatening way. But Sebastian and Chris send daggers in the form of glares at them. “I suppose we could sign the contracts and then celebrate… I could call the girls from Eighteen30’s.” Sebastian proposes, standing up from his seat. He emerges from the darkness like Batman, his beautiful eyes gleaming in the light. Everyone in the room groans in pleasure, recalling the moments they remembered from the last time they went to Eighteen30’s.

Andy pulls the contract out of his briefcase; an obvious “Andy” move. The sounds of glasses being set down on surfaces fill the room at different pitches. Evans simply turns around, stroking his beard as if he wants to say something. “Got something to say, Evans?” Charles asks him, giving him a devilish smile. “No, just thinking about how I’m gonna be rich as fuck once the ink dries.” He says in almost a hopeful manner. He thinks he has everyone deceived, but it’s the total opposite.

They all choose to keep quiet, wanting to just sign the goddamn papers and get it over with. “Just to be sure… We all know what this entails, right? More money, more power.” Sebastian states, pouring himself a glass of whisky. He never minds the burn, he actually loves it. They all nod, because who doesn’t love money and power? They all pull a pen out of their jackets, ever the businessmen. One by one, in smooth black loops, they sign their full names on the contracts.

Sebastian and Chris are the last to sign because their names carry the most weight. Charles lights his pipes and sighs as he takes a drag of smoke from it. As Lee watches Charles puff the smoke out of his mouth, he has the urge to light up a cigarette. But he can’t, because his doctor told him not to. So now he has to suffer the pain of fighting away that urge and Charles all but taunts him. He watches, and he fights, and he watches until he snaps.

“‘Scuse me.” He says, getting up. “Are you going for the champagne?” Sebastian asks, tracing the rim of his glass. Lee nods, lying to his business partner and longtime friend. “I’ll come with, can’t fucking stand the darkness.” He grumbles, following Lee. They both appreciate the fact that the part is still lively, maybe even more as booze has taken over everyone’s body. “Hey man, sorry you had to be Santa this year.” Sebastian apologizes, clearing his throat beforehand.

It’s not unexpected. Lee already knows that Sebastian is comfortable with him. “Ah, it’s alright. Only had to talk to a couple ‘a horny girls and Mrs. Patterson’s son. That lil’ fucker is cute an’ all, but he fuckin’ drooled on my hand.” Lee rants to him, making him let out a chuckle. “Well, the girls weren’t all that bad, right?” Sebastian questions him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “They were… somethin’. Most of them were obnoxious, except for one of ‘em.” Lee admits to him.

“Oh really? Anyone I might know?” Sebastian continues, handing Lee a cigarette. Lee gruffly thanks him and hands him his Valentino lighter. “Hmm… not sure. I don’t think anyone really knows her, she seems quiet. But she was drunk, so that was nice.” Lee tells him, sparing certain details. “She wanted a raise, and to know why her boyfriend left her for some other girl. I think it was her friend. Either way, she nearly started cryin’ on my lap.” Lee recounts to him, something he’d only do with his therapist.

Besides fucking her, of course.

“Oh… maybe we could give her a raise. Do you see her here?” Sebastian asks him with a smirk on his face. Lee wonders if Sebastian is thinking of the same thing that he is, and vice versa. Lee’s blown out eyes scan the crowd for you, hoping you’re still here. Maybe perhaps even more drunk than before. “She’s in this burgundy dress and had a mini Santa hat on… Red lipstick too.” Lee describes to him. Sebastian nods his head and keeps on looking for you.

“Think she had lingerie on underneath the dress… probably wanted to get back with her boyfriend.” Lee begrudgingly admits to Sebastian, finishing his cigarette. Smoke flies from both of them yet nobody seems to care. “How do you know she had lingerie on?” Sebastian teasingly asks him. Lee’s face burns up with slight embarrassment. “I… I was feeling her up, I couldn't help myself. She was all over me in the cutest way possible.” Even though Lee doesn’t give a rat’s ass about God, he’d swear on her that he’s telling the truth.

“Is that her?” Sebastian asks him, pointing at you as you walk out of the women’s bathroom. “Yeah…” Lee puts out his cigarette and throws it beside him, leaving it for the janitor to pick up. Sebastian does the same, aiming his cigarette more accurately. “Fuck, that little doll? I’ve always had my sights set on her. Always so cute and shy… Never bothered anyone.” Sebastian groans, hoping— no, knowing that Lee and the others are on the same boat as he.

“I have an idea,” Lee says, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sebastian follows him, going along with whatever his idea is. From your spot at the snack table, you manage to fill your now empty stomach with your sugar cookies. You’re slightly disappointed that not many of your treats have disappeared, but you tell yourself the night is still young. You look up at the sound of footsteps coming closer and nearly choke on a cookie.

“Oh my— uh, Merry Christmas Eve, Mr. Stan and Mr. Bodecker!” You cheer, stumbling on your words and yourself. “Hi, darlin’,” Lee says, giving you his signature ‘ladies only’ smile. You feel yourself become shy at the sight, but Mr. Stan makes you look back up. He clears his voice and you take in both of them. They both stand tall and intimidating, with enchanting stares that just capture you. “Merry Christmas Eve to you too, little girl,” Sebastian says, taking in your form.

You look absolutely adorable and innocent in front of them. In your little burgundy dress and Santa hat… slightly tipsy with cookie crumbs all over your face. “We came over here to ask you for a quick favour… We just closed one of our biggest deals and we’d love for you to help us bring the champagne. Maybe make a toast with us? It’s the least we can do since you brought all these lovely treats.” Lee explains, grabbing himself a sugar cookie.

It’s identical to the one you have in your hand; except yours is half-eaten and his only has a small nibble. “M- Me? Really?” You ask in shock, nearly going into full cardiac arrest. They probably don’t even know your name, but that doesn’t matter. At least they’re talking to you. “Yep! Unless someone else made all these delicious desserts.” Sebastian jokes around, slightly admitting that he tried a cookie. You shake your head in object and lace your sweaty fingers together.

God, why did you have to drink?

“I’d love to, Sirs.” You whisper with the utmost grace you can muster up whilst being half-drunk. They both nod and Lee places a heavy arm around your shoulders. The cookie in your hand breaks and you not so discreetly drop all the crumbs onto the floor. “Can I ask what the deal is for?” You question, not even daring to look up from the floor. “Oh, it’s nothing to worry your cute little brain about,” Sebastian tells you with a smile, quickly shutting you up and shutting the topic down.

They lead you to the bar and Sebastian makes a simple gesture with his hand. The bartender makes quick work of getting five champagne bottles and you’re easily amazed. Without realizing it, your jaw drops slightly in awe. Both Sebastian and Lee chuckle at how cute you are. The sounds are absolute heaven and they force you to realize something.

Holy-fucking-shit— You have feelings for your bosses.

You choke on your saliva at the epiphany, making Sebastian and Lee jump to you in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” Sebastian asks you, rubbing your back gently. Lee does this same, but his hand inches down to the small of your back. With anyone, you would jerk away and feel very uncomfortable. But with them… With them, it’s the complete opposite. You nod as you slowly calm down. The bartender sets the numerous bottles of champagne down on the bar.

Two bottles of Dom Pérignon, two bottles of Boërl & Kroff Magnum and one bottle of Goût de Diamant Brut. It’s the most expensive champagne in the world, costing $1.2 million. But to them and the company, it’s no big deal. You only know the price because he would rave about it on and on. You sniffle at the memory and Lee shushes you in a calming matter.

“Here, you lift this one, and we’ll carry the rest,” Lee instructs, handing you one of the bottles of Dom Pérignon. You hold onto the bottle tightly, but not too tightly. Sebastian and Lee point to where they’re going to celebrate, just to direct you. You walk in small steps, careful to not drop the bottle. They’d probably murder you if you did. “Right there, little girl… I— uh, I heard you wanted a raise, is that true?” Lee asks you, desperate to hear your lovely voice.

“Uh yeah, I just haven’t had a raise since I’ve been working here. All my coworkers are constantly getting raises…” You sheepishly admit to your two bosses. They nod and frown, how long has that been going on? They’ve kept their eyes on you since you started working here. You reach the door and you don’t open it because your two hands are occupied. Lee oddly knocks on the door, perhaps in a code. A few seconds pass, but the alcohol in your system makes it feel like an eternity.

Mr. Barnes opens up the door and gasps at you. “Nice to see you again, little girl.” He greets, smirking down at you. The sober version of you would’ve noticed the plethora of men in the room, but drunk-you can’t focus on too much at once. You nod shakily, swallowing thickly as you remember your encounter with Bucky earlier this evening. Bucky takes the champagne bottle from you and leads you inside, Sebastian and Lee following.

Bucky briefly leaves the room after setting down the bottle of champagne on one of the tables. It’s incredibly dark in the room and you can only make out the lights coming from the city. Sebastian flicks the lights on and you bite back a hiss at the sudden change. You look around and nearly drop dead right there and then. The company’s biggest enemies are here, smug as ever. “I… Huh?” You’re confused, not sure if your mind is playing a wicked trick on you.

Mr. Blackwood takes a drag from his pipe and then puts it out, the only remnants of it being the scent of smoke. In front of you, though, are Mr. Drysdale, Mr. Barber, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Evans. “Is this the little minx you’ve been telling us about?” Steve asks your bosses, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “Yep, even better in person,” Bucky says, pushing your hair to the side. “What’s going on?” You ask, trying to move away from him. Lee quickly stops you, his pudgy stomach pushing you closer to Bucky.

“Like I said before, little girl. Nothin’ for you to worry your little brain about.” Lee says, his country drawl sending shivers throughout your body. Little girl… The nickname is all too familiar, and it’s not like anyone else with a country accent would call you that. “You were Santa Claus?” You ask him, slightly nudging him. “She’s smart… Can’t fucking wait to make her go all stupid for our cocks.” Ransom says, a smug half-grin on his face.

You whimper at his words because they’re straight out of your greatest fantasies.

“Oh you like that, don’t you? You really wanna be dumb and stupid for our cocks?” Bucky asks in a condescending tone. You shake your head no because all you want is to get out of here. “Let’s get the real party started…” Chris ominously says, grabbing a bottle of Dom Pérignon. He pops it open, the wooden cork flying to the other side of the room.

Foam pours out of the bottle and everyone cheers, minus yourself. Instead, you flinch and still try to move from their grasps. Andy hands him the glasses and he pours everyone half a glass. You, on the other hand, receive a full glass with a strawberry inside. “I- I think I had enough to drink tonight…” You shyly tell them, inching your body away from Andy. “Nonsense, celebrate with us, little girl.” He objects, beginning to tilt the glass forward.

You shake your head and twist your face away, but Bucky’s metal hand stops you. He roughly grabs your jaw and squeezes until your mouth pops open. Champagne fills your mouth and you refuse to swallow. Lee’s fingers dance across your cheek and clamp over your nose, cutting off your only source of oxygen. “C’mon, swallow it all. Do it like the good little girl you are.” Charles demands, the praise going straight to the pit of your stomach.

You cave because there’s no way you’re winning this. Against your will, you swallow the bubbly golden liquid. Slight carbonation sizzles on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You have to admit, it is absolutely delightful. You now see why rich people drink it like it’s water. “That’s a good girl. See? Wasn’t so bad after all.” Andy praises you, tapping your cheek as though you’re a pet.

You whimper again, feeling Lee and Bucky grab your arms tightly. “As much as I love that cute little dress, I’d prefer to see you out of it,” Ransom smirks, handing Andy another glass of champagne. This time, it’s a glass of Boërl & Kroger Magnum. It’s stronger, much stronger than the previous one. Ransom’s hands come to the front of your favourite dress and a loud rip reverberates throughout the room.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the room fills with whistles and groans. “Fuckin’ hell, little girl.” Lee groans, his cock swelling up once again. Suddenly, everyone’s trousers are a few sizes too small. They drink in your lingerie-clad form and you grow even shyer underneath their strong gazes. “I don’t know if I wanna fuck you in this little get-up, or rip it off and then fuck you.” Steve groans, palming himself through his dress pants.

You don’t realize until now that they’ve all surrounded you. Andy tilts the glass into your slack jaw and you allow the bubbly beverage to fill your mouth. Why fight it? Plus, there’s no way you can get wasted off of champagne. You can feel a bit of champagne dribble down your chin and towards your cleavage. It has you feeling even more embarrassed and ashamed than you already are.

The sight fuels everyone in the room. “Fuck it,” Steve says, grabbing the glass from Andy. He throws it behind him, a crash reverberating in the room. You flinch at the sound and Ransom cooes condescendingly. “Are you scared, little girl?” Ransom asks you, tilting your chin up to his face. His blue eyes are blown out with lust and darkness. He smashes his lips against yours and you’re not sure whether to kiss him back or not.

A harsh hand squeezing your ass warns you to mimic his movements. The kiss is rough and filled with need. You try to keep up with kiss lips, so focused on doing it correctly. You don’t even realize that you’re being moved to one of the couches and that everyone has been stripped from their suits. The only article of clothing on the men is their boxers. Ransom shoves his tongue into your mouth and you let him dominate you. Sets of hands begin to feel up your body — groping, squeezing, rubbing.

You feel someone else’s lips on your neck, lightly peppering kisses near that sweet spot of yours. As soon as Charles hits it, you melt in all of their hands. “That’s a good girl, yeah.” Chris praises, cupping one of your tits through your bra. The strings on your lingerie are tearing away, the sound echoing in your ears. Your bra and underwear remain, with tethers of red string on them. Sebastian’s hands run up and down your waist, making goosebumps form.

You aren’t sure what Lee, Andy and Steve are doing, but you know their hands are on you somewhere. Then, Ransom pulls away. Your lips are swollen and they even hurt a bit, too. You can feel wetness pooling in your red panties, but you’re too drunk to care about your sudden neediness. You’re worried about what’s going to happen. Lee lifts you and places you on the expensive shag carpet.

You whimper in pain as the carpet digs into your skin remorselessly. “Sorry, baby. It’ll be worth it, don’t worry.” Lee gently tells you, rubbing your cheek. Suddenly, he strikes you harshly. You let out a shriek of pain and fear, but you’re quickly shushed. “Shh, I know you like that, look -- You’re rubbing your thighs together like a lil’ slut.” He jeers, stroking the other cheek. You whimper and shake your head, even though he’s correct.

“Lying isn’t very nice, little girl,” Steve warns, standing next to Lee. You look up at them both, tears welling in your beautiful eyes. The sight makes them even harder than they already are, to the point where it’s almost unbearable. Lee pulls his boxers down and so does Steve. You gasp and your jaw nearly drops. Their cocks bunce up and slap their lower abdomens. Pre-cum leaks from their swollen, red tips. They’re both roughly the same size, but Lee is thicker than Steve.

“You like what you see, little girl?” Steve asks, grabbing the base of his cock. It looks even bigger in his large hands, and you gulp in fear. You’re not sure why you’re nodding, but you can’t stop yourself. Lee gives his cock a few strokes, and Steve grabs a handful of your hair. You whimper loudly as he drags you closer to his cock. “Say ‘ahh’.” Steve teases, before shoving his cock into your mouth.

You’ve done this before, but never with someone of his length and girth. Your mouth and jaw immediately start to hurt at the stretch. His cock is only halfway into your mouth, but it’s quite possibly one of the worst feelings ever. Steve tugs at your hair again, and you take it as a sign to start sucking. You hollow your cheeks and begin to bob your head, your tongue laving at the bottom of his cock.

You can feel the different veins on his cock throb, pulsating underneath the wetness of your tongue. He groans above you and the others in the room whistle at you. You’re not sure where to look, so your eyes dart around. You end up locking eyes with the man above you and your squeak around his cock. The vibrations of your voice have him cursing like a sailor. “Fuckin’ hell, little girl. So good at sucking cock.” He praises, petting the top of your head.

You involuntarily hum at the praise, squeezing your thighs together. Suddenly, you’re pulled off of Steve’s cock. You gasp for air, not even realizing how you were barely breathing whilst sucking his cock. Your chest heaves and your heart clamours as Lee drags you closer to him. He slaps the fat tip of his cock on your thrumming cheek. You flinch, feeling sticky pre-cum stain your face. Lee shoves his cock in your mouth the same way Steve did, only this time he forces you all the way down.

Your nose meets his fuzzy, soft tummy. You gag and sputter around his cock, trying to control your very much needed breathing. Lee places both his hands on each side of your head. Somehow, he’s still a bit gentle with you, even though he’s forcing you to suck his cock. He slowly moves your head up and down, moaning softly at the feeling of your wet mouth. Saliva coats his coat with a sticky sheen that only helps you make him feel good and nothing more.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans loudly, tossing his head back. You swallow around his cock, your threat constricting around him for a brief moment. You can feel his heavy balls against your chin for a few moments every now and then. All of a sudden, you’re once again pulled away from his cock. Steve forces himself farther into your mouth, just like Lee.

You feel light-headed from the little bit of air you’re getting. But you know that’s not their priority. Gags fill the room and your eyes roll back into your head. You aren’t pulled off of his cock, yet. “Fuck, I’m pretty sure she’s enjoying this as much as you are, Steve,” Bucky says, only just realizing that you’re trying to alleviate the ache between your legs. Everyone’s eyes fall to your cunt, where you’re rubbing your thighs together and humping the hair like a little bunny.

“Bet she probably doesn’t even realize it…” Ransom smirks, feeling his cock throb. You can only hear some of their words. You don’t know what they’re talking about, but it can’t be good. Steve begins to thrust his cock into your mouth, moving his hips back and forth. His balls slap your chin, his cock stretches your mouth and his moans are the only thing your ears can hear. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He announces, and you shake your head in objection.

You place your hands on his thighs and push him as much as you can. Your efforts are wasted because he doesn’t budge at all. You decide to resort to hitting, but it still doesn’t do anything. Steve suddenly still and his cum shoots down your throat. White stickiness fills your mouth up and you whine loudly. Steve paints your mouth with white streaks and he sighs loudly. He doesn’t pull out even after he’s already come, and you’re confused.

“C’mon, swallow it all like the good little slut you are.” He husks, his voice a bit hoarse. He shoves his cock more into your throat and you have no choice but to swallow it all. As soon as you do, Lee pulls you away from Steve. “Fuckin’ piece of shit.” He grumbles loud enough for only you to hear. He gives a nod to someone and then grabs a hold of your head again. “Shh it’s okay, you can do it. I know you can, you’re a good girl.” He eases, slowly pushing his cock into your wet cavern.

Unlike Steve, Lee is a bit gentler. Maybe it’s because his heart is slightly bigger than his dick. His cock hits your gag reflex and you’re so fucking lucky that you aren’t having any… accidents. Steve’s cum is still lingering in your mouth — musky, a little salty, and sticky. The droplets that are on the side of your mouth roll down Lee’s cock, leaving slight wetness on him that isn’t saliva. As soon as your nose nuzzles against his stomach, he groans.

He keeps your head locked in place for some reason, you’re not exactly sure why. Maybe he’s giving you some time to get used to his thickness. You hum in delight, a way of showing that you’re thankful that he’s sparing you some humanity. He chuckles, stroking one of your cock-filled cheeks. Cold fingers crawl between your thigh and you jump in fear. Your body doesn’t fully jerk away because of Lee’s strength. You can see Bucky smirking from your peripheral view and he rubs your wet cunt through the panties.

You shake your head and try to kick him away, but he stops you from protesting. Bucky spanks your ass harshly, watching as the skin ripples from the force. “Uh uh, stop that. Don’t make me put you over my knee and spank you ‘till you’re bleeding.” He threatens, placing one of his knees on your leg. You try to wiggly away from him, but your attempts are fruitless. You accept defeat, but only for now.

His metal hand returns to your cunt and he grabs the crotch of your soaking wet underwear. Bucky pulls it away from your cunt and you can still see his grin as smug as ever. You look up at Lee and your eyes plead for him to stop it all, but he just rubs your bulging throat. He moans at the slight pleasure and you gulp in fear. His thumb rubs at your cheek whilst Bucky rips your underwear away from your pussy.

Sebastian, Chris, Ransom, Andy, Charles, and Steve watch the sight before them with their hands palming their hard cocks. “She’s so fucking wet, aren’t you, little girl? Bet you got this wet just from sucking their cocks, ‘cause you love it so much. You love being a little slut for us.” He sneers, lightly smacking your cunt. You whimper around Lee’s cock and he grows tired of holding back.

He drags his hips back slightly and moves your head away from his cock, before pushing you back down rather quickly and harshly. You feel Bucky’s fingers trace at your drooling hole, occasionally dipping the tip of one of his fingers inside. He traces your wet lips and your sensitive clit too. You twitch at the sudden stimulation. Lee guides you up and down his cock at a rather decent pace. Your gags, wet noises and Lee’s moans fill the room in a rather melodious manner.

Bucky pushes one finger into your tight cunt, groaning at how your pussy immediately hugs his digit. “God, you’re so fucking tight. This cunt just needs to be destroyed, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, we’re gonna ruin it for any other man.” Bucky chuckles, pushing his digit further into you. He feels around, searching that spot that you haven’t found yet.

“You look so pretty with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, little girl. So fuckin’ pretty, ‘s like it was made just for me.” Lee cooes at you, thrusting even harder into your mouth. Tears sting your eyes but you ignore them. Bucky let’s put a noise of satisfaction and pride as you clench around his fingers. “There it is… Do you like it when I touch you like that, baby? Yeah, I know you do. Fuckin’ love it.” He husks in your ear, before nibbling on your earlobe.

You squeeze your eyes shut once Bucky starts moving his fingers inside you. Lee fucks your face with sloppy movements, signalling his impending orgasm. You place your hands on his thick, squishy thighs. Your short nails dig into his soft skin slightly as Bucky assaults your g-spot with his metal fingers. Lee pulls out your hair, a delicious sting radiating from your head. The pain makes you sputter once again around his cock, and that’s when Lee loses himself.

Just like Steve, he shoves his cock further down your throat as he hits his orgasm. His hot cum shoots down your throat, some of it filling your mouth up along with his cock. His hips are stilled but his cock is twitching almost wildly in your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue and you’re more ashamed than ever. Hopefully, it’s all over now. You shut your eyes close, unable to look Lee in his eyes.

He gives your cheek a light slap, and this time you don’t shriek or flinch. You swallow obediently around his cock, losing all defiance just so that it can all be over. You cringe at the feeling of his cum sliding down your throat, which is a fleeting moment. Bucky’s other hand reaches down to play with your little pearl of nerves. Suddenly, you’re gushing around his single-digit as it thrusts in and out of your pussy. “You look so pretty when you come, little girl. Such a sight.” Bucky whispers in your ear, kissing your neck.

“Aw, you love this, don’t you?” Lee asks, watching as you struggle to keep yourself together. You shake your head, even though the man above you doesn’t allow you to move. “Yeah, you do. You love sucking your seniors’ cocks and having your bosses watch. That’s why you’re all wet, right? Soaking Bucky’s fingers an’ coming all around them.” Lee presses, pulling his cock out. Somehow, he’s still as hard as ever. Steve too.

You open your mouth up to scream for help, but Ransom quickly stops you. His hand wraps around your neck and squeezes, cutting you off. Your scream for help dies down in your throat and so has all the fight in your body. Bucky continues to fuck you with his finger and his hand doesn’t leave your clit either. His movements are quicker, much quicker. Ransom leans his face close to yours, a dangerous scowl staining his.

“Do you want us to be rough, hm? We can fucking ruin you, and your holes. Are you that fucking stupid to try and scream? Who’s gonna help you anyway? Especially if they walk in to see you bouncing up and down on our cocks, begging for our cum.” He spits, squeezing your throat even tighter. “I— I’m sorry.” You apologize, scared of the man in front of you and the others who surround you.

You can feel yourself slowly losing consciousness, slowly but surely. Tears sting your eyes and begin to leak down your cheeks, maybe Ransom chuckle. You can feel his pinky ring dig into the skin of your neck, just like how you can feel Bucky’s fingers push against your sweet spot. “Do you wanna breathe, or do you wanna cum like a good girl?” He asks lowly, staring right into your eyes. You’re not sure what the right answer is, but you can barely think.

From the loss of oxygen to the way Bucky's fingers and slowing down and denying your pleasure. You feel Ransom’s fingers loosen a bit, almost as if he’s giving you a hint. You’re sure he knows you can’t think straight, and he’s probably going to tease you for it. “I… I wanna cum like-- like a good girl…” You breathlessly admit, feeling your eyes flutter shut. “Please…” You beg, more tears leaking from your glassy eyes.

Ransom lets go of your neck but he doesn’t let you fall. Bucky’s ministrations on your pussy speed up, bringing you closer to the edge. White fire burns in your stomach and cunt as you can feel yourself about to cum. “Please, please, please, Sir…” You unconsciously beg, before starting to sob. “Awe… Look at you, so desperate. Hm? You don’t even care if you were gonna pass out, you just want to come.” Ransoms jabs at you, grabbing your face roughly.

You can see that he’s taken off his boxers, his hard cock hanging between his built thighs. “Do it, come right fucking now.” He demands, before hollowing his cheeks out. You can’t see what he’s doing through your bleary eyesight, but you have a feeling that it isn’t good for you. You let out a gasp as Ransom spit on your face, his sticky salvia painting your left cheek.

It drips down to your open mouth in the worst way possible. You let it roll into your mouth because you can’t stop it. “Oh my God, yes…” You pant desperately as you hit your climax. You cum all over Bucky’s fingers, your cunt spasming. You moan loudly, just like the slut they claim you are. Bucky rubs your clit and continues to finger you until you can barely keep yourself up. “So sensitive… God, I’m gonna have so much fun with this pussy.” Bucky groans, slowing down his movements.

You barely have any time to collect yourself from your heaven-sent orgasm. You’re being lifted and placed on someone else. You rub your eyes and turn around, just to see Andy smirking up at you. His kind-seeming eyes, but his smile tells a different story. You turn back around, just to see your bosses and their deviant partners surrounding you. Charles steps forward with his signet ring-decorated hand wrapped around his cock.

He stares you down as he spits in his hands and brings it to his cock. He strokes himself slowly, the salvia making lewd squelching sounds. Andy’s hands crawl up your ass to your soft thighs. He grabs your skin and spreads your legs as wide as he deems best. His thighs rest under yours as Charles kneels down in front of you. “Such a pretty little pussy, Bambina.” He softly tells you, as though he’s your lover.

It seems that you’re looking at him, it truly does. But in reality, you’ve zoned out to a land far, far away from where there were no monsters like these men. Only princes and heroes like him. “Look at her, she looks so fucked out.” Steve comments, pointing at you. Charles hums, before snapping his fingers. Your trip is cut short, and you’re back to reality. Charles grabs the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your sensitive clit, making you twitch.

Andy runs two of his fingers across your face; his pointer and his middle finger. He moves down to your slightly parted lips and pushes them inside. Charles smears his pre-cum against your wet lips, mixing the stickiness with your cum. You whimper at the feeling and focus on that only. “C’mon, suck on my fingers like it’s my cock, little girl.” Andy urges, pressing your tongue with his fingers.

You hesitatingly comply, trying to please him. The more you listen, the quicker it’ll all be over, right? “You’re just a good little slut, aren’t you? So good, the best little girl ever.” Charles praises, running the head of his cock through your folds. If this was all… okay, then you would agree with him and serve your duties as a good girl. But it isn’t okay, so you leave it at that. Charles pulls his now soaking wet cock away from your pussy, and you feel him push in.

But it isn’t him. It’s Andy’s cock. He slowly pushes into you, stretching you until it hurts like nothing before. He bottoms out with a loud moan that nearly makes your right ear hurt. He doesn’t begin to fuck you brutally, as any man would. No, he stays buried in your wet cunt and Charles seizes the moment. His wet cock head nudges against your other hole, the one that was forbidden to your boyfriend — ex-boyfriend.

You flinch and try to close your legs, but Andy stops you as quickly as possible. “Please…” You beg, using your eyes to tell him “No, I don’t want this. Please stop.” He shushes you and pushes the head of his cock in slightly. You’re gratefully he doesn’t just get on with it and brutalizes you. Andy pulls out of your wet cunt and you’re immensely confused.

To be honest, though, you always are.

Charles pushes into your cunt and fills you up like Andy. He immediately finds your sweet spot just like Bucky did. Andy grabs his cock and leads it to your tighter hole, before slowly pushing in. He groans loudly at how tight you are, how much you’re squeezing him like a vice. “No, stop it, please.” You beg, trying to get up from your spot on his chest.

He pulls you back down and Charles wraps his hand around your throat. “Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth before I get one of them to stuff it full with their cock.” He threatens. His face is calm in the most frightening way possible. Andy curses behind you as he finally bottoms out inside your ass. The pain makes you want to scream, but after your previous antics, you choose to just bite your lip and keep quiet.

Your short, red nails dig into your palms and draw blood, but it doesn’t hurt that badly. They both nod at each other but you don’t notice it at all, too focused on the excruciating pain you’re feeling. You might say that you’re about to pass out, but you can’t even form anything more than “please,” and moans of pain. Charles’s rough thumb rests upon your throbbing clit, ready to bring you to your orgasm.

But God, you’re squeezing his cock so tightly with your pussy it takes him a few moments to collect himself. “You’re squeezing our cocks so nicely, little baby. You just don’t wanna let us go.” Andy chuckles, wiggling his hips for some friction. You let out a loud moan — and you’re not sure if it’s of pain or pleasure.

Charles slowly drags his cock out of your cunt, leaving just the tip inside you. The feeling of sudden emptiness reminds you of when you stand up too quickly after laying down for a while. Mind-altering, if you must say. He slams back inside you and Andy does the opposite; pulling out of you. Charles fuck you slow, yet hard and rough. He rubs your clot quickly as he fucks you relentlessly.

Groans, whistles, curse words and moans all fill the room yet you only focus on the way their cocks are driving in and out of you. “Fuck, such a nice ass. You love having Daddy’s cock in your ass, don’t you?” Andy asks, looking straight down to where you’re connected. You swallow thickly and Charles feels it against his hand. He squeezes the sides of your throat slightly, and you nod quickly.

“Say it. Say you love having my cock fuck your little ass. I bet nobody ever fucked you like this, not even that lousy boyfriend of yours. You probably wished he took you like the little slut you are, destroying all your holes.” He demands as his dirty words make you wetter and wetter. “I…” You pant helplessly, looking around.

Everyone stares you down, their cocks in their hands as they slowly jerk off to you. “I l-love having your c-cock fuck my a-ass, Daddy.” You sheepishly tell him, whispering that last part. “Brava, Bambina.” Charles praises, punctuating his words with one thrust that hits your cervix. You let out a cry and the lewd sounds of them fucking you are drowned out for a brief second.

Charles continues to pummel your g-spot, and occasionally, your cervix. The pain isn’t as bad as the pain Andy is causing you. You can feel Andy’s cock pulsating in you, driving in and out of you. You’re sure you’re probably bleeding, but you know that none of these men care. “Fuck, she’s so stretched out…” Someone says, loud enough so you can hear.

You feel yourself being pushed to the edge at a rather fast pace. “You gonna come, baby? You gotta ask us first.” Charles snickers, slowing down his thrusts and taking away his thumb from your clit. You whine out like a bitch in heat, desperate to come all over their cocks. “Please…” You beg, gyrating your hips so that Charles can continue to fuck you like a starved man.

“Gotta do better than that, Tesoro Mio.” He hums, pulling out even more. He watches in awe as your wetness coats his cock like nothing before. In the bright lights, his cock glistens with your juices. “Please, please let me come! I need it, I want to come so badly, Sir!” You beg, bucking your hips upwards. “That’s a good little slut.” He praises, pushing back into your cunt. You moan loudly and wantonly once he bottoms out again.

The pain in your ass finally turns into pleasure and you moan even louder. “Oh my god!” You squeal despite your throat hurting. You grind down on their cocks slightly, chasing your orgasm. “Please let me come. Please, Sir… Please, Daddy!” You beg involuntarily, taking a page out of your wildest fantasies. Your words spur them on and you’re suddenly crashing into a lovely climax. You moan loudly and clamp down on their cocks as much as your body lets you.

“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful when you come around our cocks. You love being fucked by two men, don’t you? Yeah, yeah you do. That’s why you’re being so needy and desperate.” Andy groans in your ear, feeling his balls tighten up as you milk him and Charles for all they’re worth. You nod in agreement, not even caring anymore,

You soak their cocks with your cum, and your eyes roll back into your skull. “Awe, look at her. She goin’ all stupid.” Lee teases, squeezing the base of his cock to stave off his release. Your heart clamours in your chest, beating wildly as you struggle to come down from your high. Your mind has a slight buzz to it, and the champagne is the one to blame. You can hear soft moans from the other men, and you fight back a shy smile of pride.

Charles and Andy both have beads of sweat dripping down their skin, enhancing your arousal. They both curse under their breaths and groan. Andy’s hips still first, and his cock twitches inside you. “Oh fuck…” He groans in a low voice. Streaks of cum paint your insides, filling you up in a pleasant way possible. You sigh at the feeling and look up at Charles. He squeezes your throat a bit tighter, which only makes you wetter.

His thrusts are slow and sloppy, signalling his orgasm. “Please come in me… Please, Sir.” You whisper to him, knowing he needs something to push him over the edge. “Fill me up with your cum, Sir.” You add, remembering certain lines from porn videos you used to watch. “Oh— fuck…” He groans as he comes inside you. You can feel his cum, filling you up to the brim and then some. Andy pulls out, his cock lightly brushing against Charles’s thigh.

You watch Charles as he slowly comes down from euphoria. You feel empty, so empty. Bucky watches with hungry eyes as cum and a tinge of blood leaks out of your asshole. It’s slightly stretched, which only turns him on even more. Charles drags his cock out of your pussy, slowly and carefully just so that he won’t hurt you.

Again, if the circumstances weren’t so… fucked up, you would’ve enjoyed this all.

You sigh and flop backwards onto Andy’s chest, ready for sleep to take you. You feel your eyes flutter shut, but then you’re jerked back to reality. Your eyes open up just for you to come face to face with Bucky, who smiles deviously at you. “I know you’re tired, baby, but we’re not done with you yet.” He cooes at you, rubbing your ass.

You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you hope it’s somewhere near the door.

“Hi, baby girl… You feelin’ good?” A raspy yet oh-so-familiar voice asks you. You rub your eyes as you’re set on someone’s lap. Ransom’s dark, lust-filled eyes lock with your tired ones. It takes you a good few moments to nod, and he chuckles. His hand comes up to your face, cupping your slightly sticky cheek. He caresses your face with his thumb, and you involuntarily lean into his touch.

Bucky pushes you farther into Ransom’s arms and he grabs your hurting hips. Cum leaks from both of your aching, stretched holes. Ransom’s hand leaves your cheek, but it quickly returns. But this time, it isn’t sweet and loving. No. Instead, he gives you a light slap on the cheek, just like Lee did. The coolness of his ring on your hot skin is… refreshing. It’s different.

Your ass is lifted into the air slightly, giving Bucky easy access to your stretched out rim. Bucky runs his hands up and down your ass, occasionally spanking you. The crack of his hand against your skin is just a reminder of your situation. You can feel Ransom’s cock resting right beneath your abused cunt, throbbing with want and need.

He grabs the base of his cock and lines the fat, leaking tip up to your cum-filled hole. Neither he nor Bucky needs any lube, all thanks to Andy and Charles. In one thrust, he fills you in a way that your fingers can’t. You can feel Bucky scoop up some of the cum leaking from your holes, along with your juices. Everywhere is tingling, a sensation unlike anything else.

He brings his fingers up to your mouth and Ransom squeezes your jaw until your mouth falls open, just like before. Bucky quickly pushes his fingers into your mouth. The taste of cum — salty, musky, and sweet — fills your mouth. It laps over your tongue and you involuntarily swallow it all. Whilst being distracted by Bucky’s fingers in your mouth, you don’t realize that he’s already pushing into your ass.

You gasp around his fingers as he quickly bottoms out inside you. Bucky’s too eager to take it slow. Bucky takes his now spit-slick fingers and wraps his arm around you, reaching down to your clit. You feel even more full than when Andy and Charles were in you. Maybe it’s the added cum, or maybe it’s the same and you’re just not used to being filled by two cocks.

Ransom moves his hand to your stomach and rubs the skin there — the bulging skin. The outline of his cock is faint, but it’s there. “Look at you, all filled up with our cocks.” Ransom whispers, before roughly grabbing your hips. He grinds you down onto his cock before lifting you slightly. Both he and Buckypull out slightly and start shallowly thrusting into you, almost in a teasing way.

You want more, you want more pleasure so badly. You want them to fuck you hard, for them to fuck you deeply and maybe even roughly. “You want something, don’t you, baby? So ungrateful…” Ransom disappointingly coaxes. You thrust back onto Bucky’s cock, a trick you learned from when you caught your ex-boyfriend balls-deep in your closest friend. Then, you grind down on Ransom’s cock.

Cum drips from both of your entrances and runs down the sides of their shafts and your inner thighs. “Fuck, if you wanted it that badly all you had to do was ask real sweetly.” Bucky groans, losing all sense and self-control. He pulls his cock out all the way, not even leaving the tip inside your ass. Ransom pulls halfway out and then bucks his hips up. He fucks back into you, but this time it’s more deep and punctuated.

“Oh— Thank you… Thank you, Sir!” You squeal as Ransom pounds against your g-spot over and over. His sticky, swollen, heavy balls slap against your empty ass. Bucky rubs your clit slowly, just to hear you whine like the desperate slut you are. “C’mon, make some noise for Daddy.” He demands in your ear, rubbing the tip of his cock on your other hole.

The feeling is lovely, but you crave more. “Please… Please fuck my ass, Daddy! I wan’ it so bad, wan’ you to put your big cock in me… Please, please…” You beg whilst you pant wildly. “примерная девочка.” He husks before pushing his hips forward. Despite having your… anal cherry being just popped, he acts as though you’re constantly begging to take it up the ass.

“Fuck, she doing that thing again,” Ransom comments, staring at your face. By ‘that thing,’ he means that way your mouth drops open in a silent scream and your eyes roll back into your skull. You clench around both Bucky’s and Ransom’s cocks, even though your muscles are barely working. You fall onto Ransom’s chest and you can hear his heart beating wildly in his chest, just like yours.

Unbeknownst to you, you just gave Bucky more leverage to fuck your ass. He takes his hand away from your clit and instead wraps it around your hair. He gives your hair a slight tug, and starts fucking you even harder. You dig your nails into Ransom’s chest at the stronger thrusts overpower your entire body and mind. You can hear a groan rumbling in his chest. “Fuck, best pussy I ever had.” He growls, finishing his sentence with one painful snap of his hips that goes straight to your cervix.

“Oh, can I come, please? I need it so— so badly, Daddy… Please, please let me come…” You beg, feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten up. The pressure increases and you’re not sure if you can hold out for a minute more. The lewd sounds, the feeling of their cocks driving in and out of you, and their moans all push you to the edge.

“Awe, well go ahead, little girl. You’ve earned it, come all over our cocks.”

“Yeah… Fuck— I don’t think ‘m gonna last any longer…” Bucky curses under his breath loud enough for you and Ransom to hear. Ransom nods, a bead of sweat running down his neck. Bucky’s metal hand comes up to your bra and he unhooks it. Ransom grabs the cheap fabric and throws it at one of his friends. Ransom gives a wink to Lee, who pockets your bra.

Your tits are sticky with dried champagne from before. Ransom has the urge to swirl his tongue around your hardened nubs until you’re coming around their cocks once again. But his basic needs are just more important than yours as of now. Bucky’s hips still first, his brutality against your ass finally coming to an end.

He swallows thickly — but he gets caught off by a loud, deep moan of his own. It’s right in your ear, and Bucky has you use your body as a brace to hold himself up. His balls tighten up and cum shoots inside your ass. You’re far more sensitive than the previous time and now you can feel every single drop painting your walls. Ransom follows, his load pumping into you in a relieving way. Your walls encompass them both, hugging them tightly.

Bucky fucks into you with a few more thrusts; shallow and quick. He prolongs his orgasm until his mind is fuzzy and his cock can’t take it. He pulls out, removing his hand from your hair and he sighs. His and Andy’s cum follows his cock along with a streak of light pink. He feels nice, prideful in a way that throughout all the pain, you only ever took pleasure.

Ransom keeps his cock locked inside of you, and he just knows that you’re on the verge of either crying, screaming, or passing out. He also knows that you’re smart, and won’t do anything other than remain docile for Sebastian and Chris. “C- Can I go now? I won’t tell anyone– I swear!” You plead to Ransom in an excited sort of whisper. Ransom clenches his jaw and stares down at you, and your lips turn down into a frown.

“You’re lucky we aren’t alone.” He tells you and his words are enough to shut you up. You whimper, but you don’t apologize. “You’ve been such a good girl…” Sebastian says from behind you. You turn around and look up at him. He smiles at you and it’s gentle, almost reassuring. But you don’t return it. Sebastian wraps his muscly arms around you and picks you up with ease.

Ransom’s cock slips from your folds with ease, and cum drips from your filled up pussy. White stickiness drips down your slightly sweaty thighs and it makes you feel so conscience-stricken. Unlike every other time — like when you were sucking off Lee and Steve, or getting fucked by Ransom and Bucky or Charles and Andy — you’re now standing up. It’s weird, a funny feeling that might take you a few seconds to get used to.

Chris comes up to you and he has a menacing stance. He cups your face with his soft yet slightly coarse hands. You flinch, scared that he’ll slap you the way Ransom did beforehand. Luckily, he doesn’t. “Aw, you’re scared, aren’t you?” Chris asks you, rubbing your top lip with his thumb. You hesitatingly nod. “Don’t be. The only thing you should be scared of is us destroying your holes… And by the looks of it, it seems like we already have.” He chuckles in a mocking manner.

You gulp thickly and try to ignore the newfound wetness that is pooling in your core. Along with it is a fire that doesn’t seem to be put out yet. Sebastian’s hands move from your waist to your back, and then to your hips. His movements are gentle and soft, almost as if his intentions hold no malice. But the truth is a complete contrast to what he’s trying to imply.

He spins you around in one swift movement and your world tilts on its axis for a brief moment. You grip his biceps as you try to get a hold of yourself. “Wanna see this pretty face while I fuck you into oblivion.” He mumbles under his breath, and you can feel Chris’s hands running all over your hurting ass. “And I wanna see this ass while I fuck it.” Chris chuckles in your ear once again.

He lands a spank onto your ass, watching the skin ripple in such a marvellous way he swears he’ll never see a girl as pretty as you. Sebastian lifts you up and on instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel Sebastian’s cock right near your beaten up, cum-filled entrance. Then, you feel Chris’s tip at your other entrance.

They both thrust into you at once, and a loud squelching noise fills the room. “That cunt is so filled up…” Steve comments from the side, slowly jerking his cock off. You squeeze your eyes shut at his words, and try to block them out. Sebastian lets out a choked moan, whereas Chris groans lowly in your ear.

They both hold you up by your ass, and they start to thrust into you hard and fast. Your head lols back onto Chris’s shoulder and you can barely keep up with them. Sebastian’s hips buck up to your pussy and his cockhead slams into your cervix. “Ow…” You whine, before biting down on your lip. Your lipstick is smeared and your makeup is all ruined, but that seems to be the last thing on your mind.

You’re so fucking sensitive, it’s practically hilarious. Your little body has reached its limit... but maybe your body has no limit anymore. “Shh, just give up, babydoll. You’re doing so good, letting us use you.” Sebastian praises as he delivers a nice, harsh thrust. Chris ruts into you like no tomorrow, treating you like the fleshlight you are.

“Yeah– You love getting used. Bet your boyfriend couldn’t fuck you like this, couldn’t make you feel this good. He probably didn’t know how much of a slut you are.” Chris whispers in your ear whilst he grinds his cock into you. Both of their cocks are covered in cum, but they don’t mind. “These holes belong to us, right? All ours, ready to be used anytime.” Mr. Evans adds.

His slightly greying beard scratches your skin, right where Ransom was choking you. He places a few kisses on your bruising, hurting neck. Your hardened nipples rub against Sebastian’s sweaty chest, and your bulging abdomen touches his, too. “It’s… ‘S too much..” You complain in a dragged out, pathetic whine that turns into a moan. “Oh, it’s too much? Poor baby… Do you want us to slow down?” Chris asks, bringing his thrusts to a halt.

You nod before you start begging because you know they want the cherry on top. “Yes, please. Please, Sir, please slow down.” You ask them politely. You even flash your signature puppy dog eyes, hoping they haven’t gone out of style yet. They both coo at you, before smirking at each other. You shut your eyes and sigh, but your eyelids fly back open when you feel Sebastian and Chris starting to fuck you even harder.

“Too bad,” Sebastian grunts. “You’re going to take whatever the fuck we give you.” He sneers, and you can feel that pressure in your stomach beginning to increase. But it’s too much, more than you can handle. You shake your head and beg them to stop, but your pleas are silenced when Chris wraps his hand around your throat.

Every word that’s in your mouth dies down, and the only thing that comes from you are your moans and whimpers. “You’re gonna come, aren’t you? Just can’t help it, it feels too fucking good, doesn’t it? Do it, come all over our cocks right fucking now.” Sebastian growls as your moans become louder and your grip on their cocks grow tighter.

Your legs are shaking as you come undone. Your hands curl into fists and your eyes shut as they roll back. Your wet walls gush around their thick, long cocks and they continue to fuck you until you’re babbling like a dumb little baby. “Fuck…” Chris curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppy. It’s the same for Sebastian, and inside you’re elated.

Finally, finally, it’s all over.

They both pull out and you’re all but confused. They set you on the ground and you can barely stand without holding on to either Chris or Sebastian. Lee chuckles, and you shut your eyes in embarrassment. “Oh, don’t be like that.” Ransom sasses from Lee’s left side. He’s right. These men just put you through hell, and that’s what you’re going to be embarrassed about?

Pathetic.

Sebastian pushes you to your knees and you fall with a muffled thud. Once again, the carpet digs into your knees but this time it isn’t as painful. You look up, and you’re suddenly surrounded by everyone. Mr. Stan, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Bodecker, Mr. Blackwood, Mr. Evans, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Drysdale, and Mr. Barber… You’re not sure whether you should look at any of them in the eyes or not.

Truthfully, you’re not sure what to do. Should you run? Scream? Fight? Stay put? Millions of thoughts run through your mind but none of them seem to fully register. Everyone’s dominant hands are on their cocks, moving up and down at a rather fast pace. Chris and Sebastian fuck their hands even faster, eager to meet their climaxes.

Their moans and groans go straight to your wet pussy, fueling certain feelings you had been trying to push down all night. “Fuck, yes…” Chris moans coarsely. His balls tighten up and his red tip lets out spurts of cum. He paints your face and you nearly gag out of disgust. “You look even prettier with– with your face painted like that.” Lee groans, and he comes too. “Open up.” He orders in a creepy sing-song voice.

You listen to him obediently, and you haven’t noticed that the alcohol in your system has dissipated. His cum shoots straight into your mouth, his signature taste of muskiness and salt spreading across your tongue. After a few more seconds, Chris finally stops. He admires the way your face is covered in cum — his cum, to be exact. “C’mon, swallow it all like the good slut you are.” Sebastian urges, and his streaks of stickiness begin to shoot from his tip, too.

He paints your chest, almost like it’s a canvas. As much as you hate to admit it, this all turns you on even more. You can feel your wetness leaking from your cunt. Lee’s finger drags through the cum that’s on your face and he scoops some of it up. He pushes his finger into your mouth and shakes his head when he learns you haven’t swallowed his seed yet.

His frown is enough for you to listen. You swallow with difficulty, which comes from his digit. Your tongue laps up the cum on his finger and he smiles down at you. He pulls his finger out with a ‘pop’ and your legs are being spread again. You know for a fact you can’t take anything more, but you also know that they probably don’t care.

Ransom aims for your cunt, Steve too. They both come at the same time, loud moans escaping past their plump lips. More cum joins the gratuitous amount that’s already there. Once they stop moaning and they stop coming, you’re turned over onto your stomach. You already know that the carpet is probably a mess that dry cleaning might not accept.

Bucky and Charles cover your ass in ropes of their seed, and your messy chest presses into the ground. There’s more cum on you and in you than there is dignity. “Fuck, I wish my phone wasn’t dead. I would’ve taken so many lovely pictures of our masterpiece here.” Bucky groans, and he continues to give his cock a few more strokes just to lengthen his orgasm.

Andy is the last, only because he has patience for things like this. He paints your back like he’s Monet, or maybe even Da Vinci. Sebastian kneels down in front of you and picks your head up from off the ground. His thumb smears the cum on your face into your skin, and you don’t even have the energy to ask them if it’s all over. He chuckles, before standing back up again.

“Looks like you really were a good girl this year.”

[prof-peach]

"You will see the devil if you eat them, can confirm." hello i would like to hear about peach's morelull shroom trip

HA, well ok then, we're going down bad trip lane I see.

Peach being Peach, she's always had a tolerance for poisons, and no one seemed to say wether or not morelull mushrooms were ok for humans to eat or not, so she tested them out, checked them for specific toxins, they came up pretty free from poison, so she saw if things in the wild ate them, and pokemon did, they seemed fine! lots of mons enjoyed them. Even Val ate some and was totally healthy, no side effects. Sooooo she ate one too, just one as a little treat, see what they were like. She regretted the decision, more so for doing it without someone else around to keep an eye on her.

Stage one: audio effects. She was convinced her own thoughts were other peoples talking around her, and kept looking for them around the labs. She locked herself in a closet at one point to escape them, and freaked out when they were in there with her. Could hear very clearly, just about every drip and tap within the area, like REAL loudly. Clock ticking, way worse for her than usual. pipes rattling, sounded like something shaking the building real hard. Just all the audio processing problems.

stage two: Touch troubles, she got REAL touchy-feely, everything felt weird, rough things felt soft, soft stuff felt tingly, plants were weirdly warm when they aren't usually warm at all, there was a point where she was fascinated with a glass of water, the smoothness of the glass itself was painful somehow? like so smooth it hurt? brain couldn't comprehend it, kept trying to pick it up, having to stop, because it felt "sharp".

stage three: Everything started to move, it was pretty cool for a bit, but she had to lie down on the lab floor and pray the feeling of sea-sickness would leave. It did when she focused on the tiny dots on the floor tiles, shuffling around like tiny teeny durants, everywhere, millions of them. That eventually rotate back round to paranoia about being covered in bugs, something she's usually very chill with but the idea of their tiny legs freaked her out during this all.

stage four: Devil. Heart racing, sweats, shakes, lead in the lungs, muscle stiffness, the moving things from before start to feel encroaching, like they're closing in on you. She had to go stand in a field, and even the clouds looked like they were coming down to her level to try and crush her. Pokemon around her were totally confused, she was usually very calm, but the sheer terror of everything around her trying, at least in her mind, to swallow her up so she was gone, got in her head. The ground was wobbling under her, like she was standing on a half inflated bouncy castle, she decided to lie down and hope she didn't have a heart attack, shut her eyes real tight, hope it goes away. It did eventually.

She was left with a bad taste in her mouth, a sickening headache, and the need to sleep for what felt like three days. The shakes eventually stopped, the sweats died down, and she seemed to return to normal after about 12 hours. Its was....a very long day for her. She hasn't touched one of those again since, but does use them in medicine, now aware of their effects, trying to utilise the useful stuff, and reduce the whole 'heart attack' aspect.

[rebrandedbard]

Good morning, I had an idea and I wanted to share (could be a prompt if you want): So, Jaskier definitely, absolutely wants to learn Geralts potions and which to give when. But they aren't labelled at all and you've got to discern by shapes and colours. I firmly believe Jaskier writes a little ditty for that and maybe it spreads or maybe Geralt wakes up after a hunt with vague memories of that song after Jaskier saved him...

Jessi you know exactly what to say to get a fic out of me. Invoke my musicality! Just for you, not one, but two songs Jaskier uses for Geralt's potions!

-

Witcher's Brew

wc - 2476

Geralt wakes up after a hunt gone wrong and finds himself patched up in bed. He waits for Jaskier to arrive and overhears him singing a strange song to himself as he fusses with Geralt's potion supplies.

-

Rabbit stew, warm and fresh from the pot. It was the first thing Geralt could remember upon waking. They’d had rabbit stew at midday, just before the hunt. He almost imagined he could taste it on his dry, cut lip, but the lingering bitter taste of White Raffard’s Decoction chased the last of the memory away. He could not recall taking any potions. In fact, he had trouble remembering what it was he’d been fighting. His head was vague, all the details swirling at the edges in a haze. Someone had been speaking to him, he thought. Was it the chanting of a kitchen maid, timing her baking with a prayer? Or was it a song?

A song.

Geralt sat up with a grunt. “Jaskier,” he called, voice rough and catching in his throat. He looked around the darkness of the room, but he was alone. He scented the air. Jaskier had been near in the last hour or so, his smell not yet faded. It tasted bitter on his tongue, like the decoction: bitter like the musk of fear. The tang of salt hung in the air as well. Tears. But there was more. From the table at his side came an earthy scent and he discovered a bowl of mushrooms upon it. Sewant mushrooms.

That’s right. They’d been in the caves. The vision of the beast rose to the forefront of his mind and he remembered that they’d been fighting not a wyvern as hired, but a slyzard. It had been a deadly miscalculation, for the beast could breathe fire over a great distance. Geralt felt the fresh burns on the back of his neck, smelled the poultice pasted there. He remembered pulling Jaskier behind cover. He’d not had the chance to see whether he’d been burned as well. There had been too much to distract him; he did not even know if he’d slain the beast.

There had been mushrooms in the cave. Someone had to have brought them. Jaskier would be foolish enough to return to the caves, even if the beast still lived. But for mushrooms? Geralt could not imagine why.

“Sewant from the sewer caves, crows’ eyes, fang of beasts; blood from all the nasty things, and myrtle pure as priests.”

Geralt turned to the sound of Jaskier’s singing beyond the door. It cracked open and there the bard stood, arms hidden beneath a mass of white flowers. He had, too, a leather pouch dangling from around his wrist. Unloading his burden upon the table, he flipped through the open bestiary, still singing under his breath. It was not his usual kind of song; it was lifeless, simple rhyme and meter without passion. He did not even glance Geralt’s way as he set to work, grinding ingredients together in a mortar.

“Mistletoe and mutagen, aloe leaf of wolf; green mold, han, and celandine, then in the flame engulf.”

Jaskier poured the concoction into a potion bottle and hurried to the fire. He bent to light it, cursing as the matches failed beneath his shaking hand. He cursed louder, his hand slipping again. His voice began to shake as he continued his chant.

“Remember Raffard’s recipe and count it by this rhyme; be ye neither quick nor slow to measure out the time. Once the brew has bubbled and its color turns to red, let cool and cork then brew again to raise him from—”

Jaskier’s voice caught in his throat as he failed to light the match once more. He gripped the potion bottle in his hand and wiped at his eyes, unable to finish the line. “To raise him—”

“From the dead,” Geralt concluded.

Jaskier whirled around, dropping the bottle upon the floor. It shattered, spilling its contents into the hearth and over his boots. But he didn’t pay it any mind. He ran to Geralt’s side and knelt before the bed. His hands were everywhere at once, prodding gently, examining him.

“Geralt,” he breathed. Then everything came out in one great rush, each new thought interrupting the last. “Oh fuck, I was—! You weren’t moving. You just dropped to the ground the minute your sword—! I had to carry you back, and you only had one vial left. I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to make more before …”

“One vial is enough,” Geralt said. He nodded toward the supplies on the table. “Is that White Raffard’s?” he asked, knowing it could be nothing else.

Jaskier nodded, silent.

“What was that song just now?”

Jaskier bit his lip, looking guilty. “I … didn’t meant to pry,” he murmured. “I promise never to share trade secrets but … I had to know how it was made. It’s one of your most important potions. If you couldn’t make one, and if we were ever in a situation where we couldn’t find a healer, I needed to know that I could save you. So I watched, and I wrote it to remember.”

“You wrote a song to remember how to brew a potion?” Geralt asked. He looked at the ingredients. They were all correct, and well-measured from the look of it. Jaskier had prepared three bottles, two still sat empty on the table. Before them, their ingredients lay in even piles, waiting to be ground in the mortar.

Jaskier took Geralt’s hand in his, pressing his forehead to it. “I can brew Raffard’s, White Honey, and Swallow. I know you need Swallow with Raffard’s, for the toxicity. And … if I ever brewed a faulty potion, I would have the Honey.”

“You know what potions to take,” Geralt said. It was less of a question, more an expression of awe. He’d never taught Jaskier about the potions, merely asking for them as needed if Jaskier were in reach to fetch them. And from that, Jaskier had learned what was needed when.

“I wrote a song for that, too. All of them: what they’re for, the ones to take before a battle, and the ones to take after.”

Geralt blinked.

“All of them?” he asked.

Jaskier looked up. He once more turned his head away in shame. Witchers’ potions were not for men to know, let alone theirs to brew. But he nodded. There was no denying it now.

“Sing it to me.”

The look on Jaskier’s face was nothing short of complete and total astonishment. Geralt never requested songs. “You … right now? You want me to sing the song?” Jaskier faltered.

When Geralt gestured toward the lute, Jaskier smiled.

“It hasn’t got music,” Jaskier said. “It isn’t meant to be sung, really. Not in that way at least.”

“But you could put it to music, I bet.”

Jaskier flushed. There was a bit of praise in there somewhere—an admission of skill. At Geralt’s request, he stood and fetched the lute. “You seem to be doing much better,” he said, sitting at his side on the bed.

“Raffard,” Geralt replied. “Are you in tune?”

Jaskier strummed the lute slowly, emphasizing each open note with pride. “Always am.”

“Sing, then.”

It only took a minute of experimental plucking before Jaskier had a set of chords prepared. He strummed them twice in succession, then began his song:

Before one fights vampiric beasts

Drink Black Blood down to spoil their feasts

And if there’s acid on the rise

First taking Bindweed would be wise

When fighting something swift and cruel

Down Blizzard quick before the duel

And if the brawl takes place at night

Take Cat to see in dimmest light

Geralt watched with open admiration as he listened. Jaskier had learned it all on his own. He’d made a careful study of the potions without any help, and what Geralt heard was thus far correct. There were trainees who’d not kept such simple things in order, even with proper instruction.

When fighting wraiths one cannot spy

De Vries’ Extract evolves the eye

And wolves will howl in perfect tune

When given life by the Full Moon

At the play on wolves, Geralt rolled his eyes. Even so, he was impressed. He’d only encountered two wraiths with Jaskier at his side. He would’ve had to pay very close attention to remember De Vries’ Extract’s purpose.

The bit about the wolves did not escape his notice either. There was a little crook in the corner of Jaskier’s mouth as he sang the words. Of course the potion made for jokes among the witchers of the school of the wolf, but they weren’t the only ones who used them.

But if one’s poisoned first, let’s say

Oriole takes the sting away

And when one bleeds, to stop the aches

A simple Kiss is all it takes

If long the task you must endure

Then take a dose of Maribor

And if one’s signs aren’t up to snuff

Then Petri’s Philter is the stuff

If one cannot avoid a hit

The vengeful Shrike takes care of it

And if you’ve time while under cover

Swallow aids a slow recover

If the battle leaves you tired

Tawny Owl may be required

And while weak one cannot parry

Thunderbolt will make foes wary

When hope is lost and at its end

White Raffard’s revives your friend

And if while brawling stunned you be

Then Willow is the remedy

For power in your every blow

Take Wolf to strike against your foe

And though it makes one wobble blind

With Wolverine their fate is signed

Remember this what else you do

White Gull is base for every brew

And when the potions start to strain

White Honey lets you start again

“You ended with White Honey,” Geralt remarked.

Jaskier lay a hand over the strings of his lute, quieting them. “It lets you start again, does it not? Once you swallow a dose of White Honey, it nullifies the effects of all potions,” he said in his most academic voice. “I thought it would be fitting to end the song there; it certainly helps to remember the purpose.”

“And you know how to brew it.”

“I find it ironic that there’s not a trace of honey in it whatsoever. In fact, far too many of your potions involve the use of vinegar, the very opposite of honey. Would it ruin the potions beyond use if I were to add a bit? A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, they say.”

Geralt smiled. He waved his hand, gesturing for Jaskier to come closer. He put a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “I think whatever potions you brew for me in the future will be made sweet enough by that sentiment,” he said. “So don’t fuck up my recipes, bard.”

Jaskier stammered, then laughed and batted Geralt’s face. “You cheeky thing! For a moment, I thought you actually intended to compliment me.”

“Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Geralt asked. “I did.”

“Not a compliment if you insult my cooking right after. Or—well, eh—brewing, as it were.”

“Alchemy.”

“Oh, yes, that’s much more flattering. Assistant Alchemist! I do like the sound of it.”

Geralt chuckled. “You’re my assistant now, are you?”

“But of course,” Jaskier replied, waving a dramatic arm in the air. “Always have been. I only needed a proper title.

“Then tell me, assistant: what became of the slyzard?”

Jaskier grinned and leaned over to grab the leather pouch from the table. He tossed it for show and caught it with one hand before emptying its contents. A collection of sharp, bloody teeth fell onto the sheets, some with bits of pink gum still attached to the yellow base.

“I believe Raffard’s called for fang of beasts in the list of ingredients,” he said. “And there was no other beast nearby to take from. Your sword was still lodged in its back; all I had to do was give it one last thrust through the heart.”

Jaskier winked and produced another bag from his doublet, heavy with coin. “Needed proof anyway,” he said, setting it alongside the teeth. “I needed some distraction while you were out, so I checked off the list: put you on the mend, finish the hunt, get the pay, replenish supplies.”

For a moment, his cocky expression faltered. “I was just finishing up when I got a little …” he trailed, bundling up the teeth once more. “Well, it’s easier to get lost in worrisome thoughts when doing quiet tasks like foraging. But you woke up, and now there’s nothing left to fear. I’ll have a new set of potions ready for you by the time you’re well enough to get out of bed.”

“… You … killed the slyzard?” Geralt said.

“You did most of it. I just gave it the last push. It barely twitched. Honestly, its innards made more of a fuss when I went to bottle them. I think you’ll be well stocked for some time.”

Jaskier killed the slyzard. He stooped to rummaging in its bleeding corpse for the most vile and disgusting of ingredients. For his potions. Which Jaskier brewed. Which he knew how to brew by merely observing, putting it all together in simple songs to remember. And still he’d found time to collect his pay.

“Fuck me,” Geralt said in wonder.

“Maybe once you’re healed,” Jaskier laughed, ears a touch pink.

“Then kiss me,” Geralt amended. He lay his hand over Jaskier’s arm, leaning forward, enraptured. It was a simple revelation and he wondered just how long the idea had been bubbling in the back of his brain. “Kiss me,” he said. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Jaskier blinked twice, his cheeks flushing as he took in the seriousness of Geralt’s tone. “Did … you put too much White Gull in that last batch of Raffard’s?”

Geralt shook his head, his eyes never leaving Jaskier’s. “Will you kiss me?” he asked again.

“I …”

“You killed a slyzard for me.”

“Yes.”

“And you memorized my potions. In case I needed them.”

Jaskier nodded.

“You love me,” Geralt concluded. His heart gave a leap at the notion. Yes. Yes, this was something he never knew he wanted. No, not wanted—this was something he needed. If all that didn’t add up to love, he didn’t know what would. It was such a simple thing, and he was a very simple man in every meaning of the word.

“Love me, Jaskier,” he said. “Love me and kiss me, please.”

But Jaskier already did. And before the final plea could escape Geralt’s lips, Jaskier did.

I’m going to take care of you, Geralt thought. He would take care of Jaskier just as Jaskier had always taken care of him. Good care.

“I do love you,” Geralt corrected.

Jaskier chuckled. “Don’t need to think about it?”

“I don’t think I ever really did.”

[darling-i-read-it]

My King

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: burns, violence, injuries

Author’s Note: This was so cute omg, I hope you enjoy love!

Requested; by anon, Hi love I absolutely adore your writing and I was wondering if you could request the ‘who did this to you trope’ with Nikolai please Thank you

Summary: the request!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Nikolai Lantsov, King of Ravka, was the only man in this world that could make you actually visibly flustered. Boy did he love that. He used it to his advantage whenever he could and even managed to make you laugh here and there.

You stood behind him, looking down at his radiant blonde hair. You brushed through it carefully, making sure there were no tangles. He looked at you through the mirror and you pretended not to notice.

“You have to talk more with the suitors today,” you muttered, focused on combing through his hair.

“No I don’t,” he said. “I’ve picked my Queen.” You rolled your eyes. He caught it and couldn’t help but smile softly.

“I can’t be Queen Nikolai.” You met his eyes through the reflection. He looked effortlessly handsome, though he always did. You were always amazed at his stunning looks. Nikolai was a regal man and if nothing else, looked like he was fit to be a King.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because I’m not royal.” You put your hands on his shoulders and leaned down, tilting your head to see him face to face. He met your gaze, that charming look in his eyes. “And you won’t get any prospects from being with me. You won’t get any money. You won’t get any land. You’ll get only me and that is not enough.”

“It’s plenty!” he protested. “I don’t need land or money or prospects. I just need you.” You shook your head and turned around, walking over to his bed. You handed him the clothing that his people had picked out for him to wear.

“No you want me. Ravka needs someone suited for the job.” Nikolai hated when you brought Ravka into this. If he was a low servant boy the two of you would have been married ages ago. He stood and turned around, holding his clothing in his hand.

“I will convince you.”

“No you won’t,” you muttered absentmindedly. “I have to call Genya to get things prepared for next week. You get dressed.”

“I won’t get married to anyone else.”

“We can have an affair on the side, will that make you happy?”

“No. I will not produce a bastard and make our child suffer the way I have,” he grumbled. You met his eyes kindly.

“Who says I want children with you?”

“You can’t keep your hands off me, I’m fairly certain your actions betray your words.” You rolled your eyes and put your hand on his chest as you walked past.

“Get dressed Nikolai. I’ll be with Genya if you need me.”

You left the room and he was left alone with his mind and his clothes. He stared at the door for a second, shaking his head. He knew that you were right. He knew that you understood this situation better than most. But he also knew that as long as you were alive, he could never love another person. He didn’t want to and he didn’t need to. You would make a wonderful Queen.

He would convince you one day, he was sure of it.

====

Genya held a clipboard in her hand. You wondered briefly if she had different colors to match what she wanted to go for that day. You almost never saw her without some sort of planning ability.

“I wish you would just marry him, save us all the trouble,” Genya said softly. You rolled your eyes.

“Trust me, if I could I would.”

“You’re completely able. You aren’t repulsed by him like some of the women coming. You aren’t his cousin, you aren’t underage. You’re both in love and that should be enough.”

“It’s enough for him. Not enough for Ravka.” You let out a small sigh and was about to say something else when a guard entered the room. You raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t announced himself or anything which was unusual. You are one of the closest to the King and usually was shown that respect. But this man looked very worried.

“There’s a Grisha at the gates, demanding to come in.”

“Do you know who it is?” you asked. He shook his head. You pursed your lips and spared Genya a glance. You were a very talented Heartrender and could use your power for defense if necessary. “What kind of Grisha?”

“Inferni.” You let out a soft sigh. That wasn’t great news.

“Should I find Zoya?” Genya asked. You shook your head.

“Zoya isn’t in Ravka.” She was out with Nina, hopelessly spying on others. She had protested quite often but you made her go. She could do good out there and could come back to lead her post later. You turned to the guard. “Come.”

===

You didn’t bother stopping to tell Nikolai. You could handle this yourself, you were sure. It was one Grisha. You had fought plenty before. You could handle one Inferni. You did wish you hadn’t told Zoya to go though. She was much more powerful than you.

You reached the gates and saw the fire immediately. Your few Tidemakers were doing their best to battle the flames but the Inferni looked skilled. You wondered if they were a member of the Second Army before the war.

You saw him standing at the edge of the gates.

“Let me see the King!” he yelled at the guards, shooting flames aimlessly. You focused, slowing his heart rate at your will. He looked frightened as he realized what was happening to him. You approached cautiously.

“The King is busy today,” you said. He clutched his chest. “Can I help you?”

“I want…” he breathed heavily, “to kill the King.” You shook your head.

“That isn’t going to happen today.” He looked up at you and before you knew it he had shot a ball of fire in your direction. It knocked you down, causing you to lose your focus. Pain flew to your limbs as you put the fire out. You raised your hand to him and crippled him down to his knees more harshly this time. You took the air from his lungs, your own body singed and smoking as you did so. You guestered to a Tidemaker and some guards. “Take him.”

They did as they were told, dragging him to the dungeon. He gasped for air until he was out of your sight.

You sat in the courtyard for a moment, reveling in your pain. No one approached you for a moment, unsure if you were able to stand on your own or not. You wobbled to your feet and guestered to a guard.

“Send for Genya Safin.”

“Should I get the King?” the guard asked.

“Saints no,” you breathed.

You walked back inside the castle and soon enough saw Genya rushing towards you. Her eyes went wide in horror.

“Why didn’t you ask for a Healer?” she exclaimed.

“I wanted you to take me there,” you breathed, laughing gently. She held you up and started to walk towards the nearest Healer when you saw Nikolai coming down the stairs, a guard trailing after him. He ran up to you, putting his arms around your waist and holding you up. Genya let you go into his grasp. Your eyes narrowed on the guard. “You disobeyed me.”

“He insisted on knowing whenever you were hurt,” the guard said quietly. You shook your head.

“Who did this to you?” Nikolai almost growled. You tried not to think of the monster inside him as he spoke in an animalistic tone.

“Inferni at the gates.”

“You should have called for help.”

“I can handle myself.” He turned to Genya.

“Take her to the Healers, I’m going to see this Inferni.” You gave him a look as he put you back into her care.

“Nikolai don’t do anything stupid unprotected,” you muttered, wincing in pain.

“He’ll get what's coming to him,” Nikolai muttered as he walked away from you.

====

The Healers tended to your wounds quickly and were able to avoid having any serious burns. You had gotten lucky. Nikolai was right though, you should have sent for help. You rested in your room, bandages over your various injuries.

The door opened without a knock which meant it was no one but Nikolai. You looked over at him.

“What did you do?” you asked evenly. He quickly sat at your side, grabbing your hand in his. He leaned forward and brushed your hair out of your face.

“He will be tried for high treason.”

“He didn’t commit high treason. He can’t even be tried for an assasination attempt, he never got close to you.” Nikolai smiled slyly and met your eyes.

“First off, I’m the King and I get to say who is tried with high treason. Second off, it was not an assassination attempt on the King of Ravka, it was however an assassination attempt on the future Queen of Ravka.” You went completely silent for a few moments, his words hanging in the air.

“You didn’t tell him that, did you?”

“I did. In fact, I told Genya to stop planning for the suitors' arrival next week.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Then I told her to get an official announcement prepared.”

“Nikolai-”

“Be quiet for a moment,” he said, meeting your eyes. “You got rather lucky today. You’re very lucky actually that you happened to be at the castle where there are the best Healers around. If you hadn’t been, your burns could have been much worse and you could have died.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Shh!” He cleared his throat. “I won’t lose you. You are the most fit to be Queen and we will secure the Lantsov line with our children.”

“I’m Grisha thou-”

“Darling, if you interrupt me one more time I will poke an injury.” You smiled a bit and rolled your eyes. “My decision is final. I am your King and I have made my choice.” He paused. “If you’ll have me.” You had a feeling that he was telling you the truth. There was no way to talk him out of this. Truth be told, you wanted nothing more than to marry him. You had wanted it since the moment he laid eyes on you. You closed your eyes for a moment and shook your head, laughing gently.

“Fine. Yes, Nikolai, I will marry you.” A bright smile went over his face as he clapped his hands together and then turned to you, kissing you gently. You moaned in pain and he pulled away.

“I’m sorry. Just excited. Oh Genya is going to love this. She’ll have a ball planning our wedding. Oh and I have so many ideas for the honeymoon, you’re going to love it.” You grabbed his hand and couldn’t help but feel equally excited.

“We can talk more about it in the morning. Right now, I’m exhausted.”

“Oh yes of course. Scoot over.”

“Nikolai, you have things to do today.”

“Scoot.” You rolled your eyes and did as you were told. He laid on the bed beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder. You rested your head on his chest.

“Goodnight my darling,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

“Goodnight my King.”

Grishaverse Tag List: @elisaa-shelby

@chameleon-junkie

[dmwrites]

Chapter 4- What We Know

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3

——

When Michael awoke, the sun was still up. Or a whole day and night had passed. The idea made him chuckle- it really was like a vacation. He’d slept hard, but now that he was awake, details of his journey, the first tastes of the famous Hermitcraft server, were coming back to him. He wrenched open the shades of his window, and stood just staring at the huge elegance of the castle just a few hundred blocks away. There was no moon, thankfully, because that thing was actually nightmare-inducing, but there was definitely a sense of unease, or maybe that was just him.

Michael got dressed and headed outside, grabbing an apple from the basket by the register as he passed. It was quiet here, peacefully so. Outside, he took a deep breath- the air was a lot cleaner too, without all the residual gunpowder and smoke that seemed to forever permeate the Dream SMP. He walked towards the castle, assuming that Joe and Cleo were still moving the walls, whatever that meant.

Michael didn’t have to look very hard for them, because he could hear arguing echoing from across the first courtyard he got to.

“I swear to god, Joe, I’m going to slaughter you! You just placed that wall! You! I am not cleaning up your stupid mistakes!”

“Oh sorry, you’re PerfectCleo, I forgot!”

The two came into view around a corner. “Should I like come back later or… Michael came towards the two, hands out in a placating way.

“Michael! You’re awake! Hi bud!” Joe smiled.

“Don’t worry about it, Michael. We fight about everything. It’s how we get stuff done.” Cleo waved a hand as if to push the awkwardness away. “Joe keeps moving the castle walls for ‘historical accuracy’, is all. He also keeps moving my patience with it.”

“My apologies for overwhelming you the other day- I’ve been told I have that effect.” Joe said. “It’s been so long since we’ve had someone on the server who isn’t a hermit, you know?”

Michael wrapped an arm around Joe. “Don’t worry about it, my guy. We’re all good here. I’m all rested now, and we’re gonna solve this moon mystery together. That fucker is going back where it came from.” There was a sudden rumble, and Michael felt the earth shake. All three looked at each other, silent for a moment.

“So brazen of you.” Joe finally said. “But that’s attitude we need! Cleo and I, you’ll find, tend to lean on the side of cautiously pessimistic.”

“We’re absolute joys to have at parties, clearly.” Cleo added, voice wobbling just a little bit.

“I’ve prepared a PowerPoint presentation of all of the information Cleo and I have gathered about the moon anomalies thus far.” Joe clapped his hands and lead the way into the castle.

“And I brought snacks.” Cleo said, as they walked into a side room with a projector and two beanbags. “Knowing Joe, this is bound to be an hours-long infodump. And we support him, of course, but just with snacks and drinks.”

With Michael and Cleo settled in their beanbags, Joe lowered the lights and turned on the projector.

“So,” he said, adjusting his glasses, “there’s a moon getting bigger and bigger. But what do we know?”

Michael would later remember the three hour Joe Hills moon presentation as a kind of informative fever dream, but the gist was pretty simple. One: on October 21st, 2021, the moon had been noted as getting bigger, and was stuck in a single phase. Two: Joe had started calculating the size of the moon using two pillars as measurement points, and concluded that yes, the moon was getting bigger almost daily. Three: there were intermittent earthquakes, and about two of them happened during the presentation. Four: although not yet confirmed, gravity felt a little… odd sometimes. Like some kind of jump boost or something. And, five: not a single person, not even the smartest players on the server, knew why it was happening.

“And that’s where you come in, Michael.” Joe said, closing his retractable pointing stick with finality (“thank god” Cleo muttered under her breath). “We’ve all gone straight to the worlds of science for answers, and it’s left us with almost nothing except measurements. So, what do you do when traditional approaches fail? You go to theory and story. Thus is the human condition.” Joe spread his hands at Michael.

“No pressure.” Cleo nudged him.

Michael let out a long whistle. “Damn, guys. Y’all know I just, like, play my silly little tunes on a radio station no one listens to and talk about my silly little theories, right?”

Joe chuckled. “Hey, what have we got to lose, right? You’re not from here, you think in ways we don’t. Even if you somehow make the moon come towards us faster, what’s the harm, right? It kind of seems like this is the eleventh hour, and what better way to spend it then in a crazy last-ditch effort with a new friend, huh?”

What Michael had always admired about Joe, in the few days they had spent together on the Dream SMP, was the ways he held himself up, tired yet strong. The strange man, with his strange green glasses, was a bit like a lighthouse in a storm. The battle may not be over yet, but there was at least something solidly and resolutely there up ahead. An earthquake shook the floor beneath them. Joe held out his hands, one to Cleo and one to Michael, and they held on tight, waiting for the earth to calm once again.

[kyovtani]

mean dom hinata? explain away honey 👁👅👁

you guys- when i tell you the concept of hard dom hinata is one of my favorites- idek what it is about the thought of having sunshines like him, suga or yams go brutally at me but it just makes me pussy throb so here you go ✨

a/n: i got a little carried away so this is a little longer haha 😀

— cw: hard daddy dom!shoyo, heavy degradation, mocking, teasing and dumbification, pussy slapping, choking and brief mentions of breeding <33

hinata shoyo is not really one who's constantly in his hard dom mood. he's also not a soft dom per se, but for him to become the mean, merciless dom you love oh so much, it does take a little bit of work.

however, it always depends, who those guys are.

however, it always depends, who those guys are.

one thing hinata absolutely despises is when you visit him at practice, dressed in one of your tiniest little dresses and that one particular look on your face. he can tell the reason behind your little visit by the way you walk and talk once you've entered the gym him and his teammates spend most of their time in.

you visit him a lot, which he genuinely appreciates because he misses you a lot but can't really do anything about it because he has to practice to become an even better version of himself. however, when you come up to him with that smirk and certain kind of playful gleam in your eyes, he knows you're here to play your little games.

and then he just gets to watch the scene unfold.

you becoming incredibly handsy with atsumu and bokuto, two of his closest friends who, bless their hearts, simply can't hide the effect you have on them, especially if you're dressed like that. shoyo also calmly observes the way you talk to his captain, meian, the guy he looks up to, his mentor. he even finds it funny how you keep letting your hands graze over his big arms and even his abs, or laughing about his puns and jokes a little too much than you'd normally do.

in those moments, shoyo just smiles and calms himself down because he knows why you're acting like that. you've missed him and he hasn't had the time to give you the attention you deserve so you're here to get what you deserve.

even on the ride back home he does not say a word and that's when you know you've got him.

because the moment he steps through the door to your shared apartment, he slams it shut and wraps one of his big, calloused hands around your neck before he calmly pushes you against the wall.

and then, hinata just starts chuckling.

the sound of his deep laughter sends shivers of excitement and arousal down your spine and it feels like he's slowly setting your body on fire in a way only he's been able to.

he holds you like that for a good while, just giggling and shaking his head, meeting your desperate gaze every now and then as he applies more and more pressure on your delicate throat.

"you know what, puppy?", he begins, running a hand through his messy curls before he scratches the back of his undercut and then casually plays with the piercings in his ear.

"i actually enjoy these shows a lot", shoyo continues, his facial expressions slowly but surely hardening as he never once averts his gaze from yours all while his other hand pushes your tiny little dress all the way up your thighs, exposing your clothed cunt to the cold air of the hallway.

"all the fake giggles and compliments whenever my boys say something, honestly – it's actually quite cute. i know how much tsumu- and bo-kun enjoy your little visits and even shu-kun gets all flustered when you keep telling him just how 'big' he is", hinata explains, the smile on his plump lips slowly fading away as he pushes his thumb underneath the waistband of your panties and casually rips it with one firm tug, not even caring about the little painful gasp you let out when the fabric lightly cuts your skin.

you just look at him with parted lips, your arousal slowly dripping down your inner thighs and your cunt clenching in absolute disgusting despair the longer hinata stares at you.

"shoyo, i-", "shut the fuck up", hinata is quick to quiet you down, the playful gleam in his big eyes burning with a fire of anger in just the right way; you've finally gotten him exactly where you wanted him, "not only wasn't i done speaking yet, you were also not granted permission to say anything, pet. so you stay nice and quiet for me, hm?"

you start nodding softly, a soft whine escaping your lips when shoyo harshly pushes his thick thigh in between your legs, right against your dripping cunt. your eyes roll into the back of your head at the delicious feeling of his strong muscle underneath you; your clit throbbing almost painfully when you slowly start rocking your hips against him.

"look at how fucking desperate you are to have your stupid little pussy fucked", hinata grunts, a deep, empty chuckle falling pst his lips before he lets go of your throat and takes your chin into his big hand to have you meet his strong, alluring gaze, "it's disgustingly pathetic."

"o-only for you, daddy", you whisper and dig your fingers into his tiny waist, holding onto him as your hips move on their own, giving your little clit just the right amount of stimulation to esse some of the pressure on your cunt.

"oh, really? o-o-o-only f-for m-me? yeah?", hinata replies, his mocking of your words sending you into the sweetest haze of pleasure and you can't believe you're about to cum from basically nothing.

"didn't look like that to me when you were basically offering yourself to my boys", he hisses, suddenly pulling his whole body away from you and with a soft yelp, you let yourself fall onto your knees; desperately pressing your thighs together in hopes of getting your ruined orgasm back, only to fail miserably.

shoyo looks down to you, his rock hard cock straining against the soft material of his sweats and the thought of his weight on your tongue, you whimper softly.

"i don't fuck you for what? two days? and you forget what manners are. have i fucked you and your stupid little pussy so dumb already? because it seems like you're not doing any of the thinking anymore, hm? but i mean, how are you supposed to when cock is all you seem to think about all day", his words ring in your head, echoing sonloudly it feels like he just yelled them right into your ear.

you gulp harshly, your hands finding the fabric of his sweats as you make your way up to him; the thought of having him fill you to the brim with his cock as he says even meaner things to you clouding your mind in just the right way.

"p-please", you whisper and look up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the arousal becomes overwhelming and the radical need to have him inside of you takes over your mind, "please, daddy, i n-need you to fuck me."

you start placing soft little kisses on his clothed cock, your eyes never once leaving his strong gaze as you enjoy the feeling of his length underneath your lips knowing oh too well that he's going to take it away from you a lot sooner than you'd expect him to.

"tsk, how unfortunate that i don't need to fuck you. i'll just use my fist and watch you beg for it before i cum all over your dirty little cunt and call it a night", he hisses, pushing the messy strands of his hair out of his face before he moves out of your grip and walks towards the living room.

and just as you're about to get up on wobbly legs, hinata raises his big, tattoo clad hand snd turns his head to the side, before he mumbles a soft, "don't you fucking dare to get up. if you want to behave like a needy little pet, you're going to be treated like one. so, you better stay the fuck on all fours."

by the time you come to sit next to him on the floor, hinata just groans, pushing his sweats and boxer briefs down his thick thighs and revealing his fat, precum leaking cock to your hungry eyes.

"sit on the coffee table", he grunts, sitting down on the couch as he wraps his big hand around his throbbing length and slowly starts stroking himself.

you nod softly, moving to sit on the little table with your juices covering your inner thighs and continuously dripping down your legs and without missing a beat, you spread yourself open for hinata.

"fuck, you're dripping everywhere", he grunts at the sight of your sopping wet pussy all spread okt for him and his words easily have your hole clenching like crazy, making more of your juices drip down to your ass.

"all y-yours, daddy", you whimper, watching the way hinata slowly bucks his hip into his fist, his precum slowly finding its way down the back of his hand.

"of course you're all mine, you stupid little slut", hinata scoffs and even though you see the way he lifts his hand, the suddenness of the harsh spank on your pussy still takes your breath away and leaves you whining and whimpering as the pain slowly spreads in your veins, mixing with the pleasure and basically leaving you high.

"you and this pretty pussy belong to me, puppy", he spits and casually lands another spank on your drenched folds, a loud moan falling pst your lips as the tears stream down your temples and find their way into the coffee table.

"now cut the crybaby shit and get on top of me, show me you're worthy of my cock and i might actually breed you."

[stained-glasswriting]

Sweet Kitty

Hybrid!Park Jimin X Reader

Word count: 4.5k

AN: ok guys this ones gonna be a little bit of a slowburn. The classic reader finds a hybrid and takes them home. I hope you like!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had already been a long day when you got distracted while dragging yourself home. Your day started with your only 8 am class of the week, you were late of course, keeping you from your daily caffeine dose. It all got worse when you left your college campus for the diner you worked at. Immediately upon entrance, you were bowled over by a coworker practically begging you to take the last three hours of her shift. Agreeing to take the shift from her, you set about getting ready for that was now a closing shift.

Of course by the time you flick off the lights and lock the door, it was dark and started to drizzle. Pulling your jacket tighter around yourself, you step out into the street, starting the 5 block trek to your apartment.

The first thing that caught your attention as you neared your home, was a quiet whimpering. Quickly you stop in your tracks, looking around the damp area. For a moment the darkened street was silent, before a barely audible whine came from a dark expanse of alley jutting from the street to your left.

Staying in the entrance of the alley you peer in looking for the creature making the noises. In the dim lighting you could make out the sight of a pair of dumpsters surrounded by trash, sitting a few feet from a brick wall dead end. In front of them laid what looked like a pile of cardboard boxes. One of the boxes had something dark dangling out of it. At first you couldn't see anything that could be making that noise.

Another whimper had you taking a couple steps towards the wet boxes in front of you.

“Hello?” you called out into the dark tentatively. There was no response, but the quiet whimpers started up again.

You shoot a glance back out into the street considering your options. Going wandering down dark alleys in the middle of the night was a bad idea, but what if someone was hurt.

Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you slowly pick your way down the alleyway following the noises. All of your senses on red alert, you had to be careful. As you neared the boxes, you quickly realized that a dirty cat tail was hanging limply out of one of them. The stiffness in your shoulders leaks out as the realization that it's probably an animal that needs help.

Crouching, you peek into the dirty damp cardboard, fully expecting to see a kitty curled up in it. Instead you end up coming face to face with a hybrid.

You slap your hand over your mouth, effectively cutting off any noise you were about to make in surprise. Hybrids aren't exceptionally rare, but really only well off families could afford them. There weren't a lot of them just wandering the streets so this was unusual.

This one didn't exactly look like he’d come from a nice house though, or at least hadn’t been in one for a while. His clothes were dirty and appeared threadbare in places. They had run ragged around his wrists and ankles. Blood dripped down from his shoulder and down his arm staining the fabric a dark red. A long matted tail hung out from underneath where he was laying on the cardboard.

Your eyes trailed up the man’s skinny figure, up to his thin face. A fairly large cut was opened above his eyebrow, slowly weeping blood down his overly pronounced cheekbones. The cat hybrid’s eyes were closed but fluttered lightly as he made small noises in the back of his throat. His dirt covered ears pinned back in what you assumed to be pain.

Through all the dirt, blood, and obvious malnutrition, he looked small and almost soft. Honestly, how could anyone do this to him? It took all of two seconds to make your mind up to help him. You gave the hybrid a long moment of consideration, before you took the last few steps to reach the boxes. Leaning near you lightly touched his shoulder.

The effect was instantaneous. His body flinched away from you violently. The hybrid’s ears flipped forward to face you then immediately laid flat back again. His eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide with fear, they seemed unfocused, and whipped around wildly looking for danger. Another heart wrenching whine was released from his throat.

Pulling back you murmur soft comforting phrases, trying to assure the terrified hybrid. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep shuddering breath. The cat hybrid’s eyes finally seem to focus on you, scouring your face in an instant.

After a moment of staring between you, he seems to come to some sort of decision. He slides his eyes closed once more, and bends his head towards you seemingly resigned to allowing you to do as you wish. He’d seem almost calm if it weren't for the shaking of his form, and the ragged breaths that tore up his throat.

It’s cold out, and his injuries needed to be tended to. If you left him here, he wouldn't last much longer, you’d have to bring him home with you.

“Alright, come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” you whispered to him, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You reach for his arm again, this time gently grabbing it. Your fingers wrap all the way around the thin limb.

Lightly you start pulling him out of the wet cardboard. You were afraid that he might resist or lash out at you, but he didn’t seem to have any fight left in him. He just sort of resigned himself to whatever you were intending to do with him.

You were able to pull the hybrid into sort of a crouching position. Several of the movements caused deeper, more draw out whines to escape him. The hybrid didn’t stop you while you placed your other hand on his elbow, pulling him into an upright position. The hybrid leaned on you heavily, his legs wobbling as you held him up.

The first couple of steps were difficult, and shaky as you murmured encouragement and praises to the man. He limped heavily to one side showing you there was something wrong with the leg. After about a minute he seemed a little more inclined to help, and didn’t weigh on you quite as heavily.

It took some time, but eventually you were able to get the hybrid to the front steps of your apartment building, and inside.

The light of the lobby showed just how much blood and dirt covered the man, and his clothes. Some of it had started to dry and harden to him. Other spots still oozed the thick red fluid. Underneath it all you could now see just how pale and exhausted he looked.

Thankfully it was late enough that the secretary for the building had left for the night leaving the lobby empty. This allowed you to avoid any strange conversations as you pulled the hybrid past the front desk and to the elevators behind it. Without setting the man down, you hit the button with your elbow.

You're lucky once more, with how late it is the elevator only took a couple of moments before opening with a ding. It wasn’t hard to pull him into the contraption, but as you stop to hit the button for your floor, you could feel him start to shake harder.

“We are almost there.” you assure the hybrid trying to calm him some.

A few minutes later you’re pulling the partially unresponsive hybrid into your two bedroom apartment. Bypassing your living room and kitchen, you drag him down the hallway into our bathroom. Carefully you settle him down on the floor, and lean him against the tub wall.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You told him, and spun on our heel leaving in search of the first aid kit you kept in the hallway closet. While in there you also snagged a couple of extra towels and a whole box of Band-Aids.

By the time you make it back to the bathroom, the hybrid appears a little more conscious. He was sitting a bit straighter, his tail clutched between his hands as he messed with the fur. His eyes wide with fear blinked up at you when the door opened.

“I’m just here to help, I promise,” you reassured the hybrid gently. Slowly you crouch in front of him trying to get a better view of his forehead. You could tell it was still sort of bleeding, but with all the dirt and dried blood it was difficult to tell where the cut started. You’d likely have to get him cleaned up before you could do anything meaningful about his wounds. He flinched violently when you carefully pressed a clean cloth on the wound, but didn’t move otherwise. After a few minutes you’re at least able to get the bleeding to stop.

Tearing your eyes from his injured forehead, you glance down, locking eyes with the man. He studied your face with an intensity that made you squirm slightly. You could tell he was sort of sizing you up. It was as if he expected you to do something, and was ready for whatever it was.

“Well, it’ll be difficult to do anything about your injuries till we get you cleaned up. Do you want to take a shower?” you asked the hybrid in front you.

His body jerked in surprise, his eyes somehow widening even further, apparently that was not what he had been expecting of you. He refused to speak but did respond with a stilted nod that left him wincing in pain.

Pushing yourself up, you cross to the front of the tub. He listens intently as you explain the different knobs, and what soaps to use.

“Do you need anything else?” you ask, lightly helping the man into a standing position. He quickly shook his head in response.

“I’ll bring you some fresh clothes.” you told him as you started towards the door. Warm fingers snaked around your wrist lightly. He pulled enough to stop you without actually pulling you back. This time when you turned to look at him, he kept his eyes firmly on the floor.

“Thank you.” he said quietly, his voice raspy almost like it was overused.

“Of course!” You immediately exclaimed with a nod. The hybrid looked up just in time to see a sweet smile come across your face. He released your hand then, allowing you to finally leave your bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing you did was change out of your now dirty work clothes, and into some comfortable pajamas. Looking through your closet, you pulled out some basketball shorts your ex left, and an oversized t-shirt. With a pair of scissors you cut hole in the back of them around where the hybrid’s spine would end for his tail. After a second thought, you grabbed a sweatshirt you wore often. It was your largest, even though he wasn’t much taller than you and was basically just skin and bones, you thought he deserved something soft and comfortable.

Carefully you slid the bathroom door open just enough to shove the clothes in. some steam escaped, showing just how hot he had the water at.

Your next task was getting some food into the poor boy. He looked so skinny, you should go with something that wouldn’t be too heavy on his stomach. Flitting around the kitchen, you get some soup started on the stove. It was just a simple chicken noodle soup recipe. Chicken, noodles, stock, and some vegetables you had chopped up originally for stir fry all went into the pot. Humming you bounced between the stove, and setting two places at the table.

Lost in your own world, you missed the sound of the shower turning off, then later the sound of the door opening. You got quite the fright when you turned, silverware in hand, and a now clean hybrid was standing in front of you wearing the shorts and shirt you left him staring at you.

A startled squeak slipped past your lips when you jumped. At the noise the man’s ears pinned back, and his eyes dropped back to the floor.

“It’s ok, you just startled me.” you reassured him, hands raised. “Are you hungry?” he responded with a short single nod. With a happy smile you went back to setting the table, and finishing the soup.

Before long, you were ladling the hot liquid into two bowls you put on the tale. Carefully you place the pot onto the pad in the middle of the table, and sit at one end looking expectantly up at the hybrid. He still stood in the doorway, head down, but now his tail sat in his hands as he carded his fingers through the fur. The sweatshirt you left him was slung over his shoulder.

After the shower, his fur proved to be much fluffier than you had expected. It was a lovely light tan that turned almost cream color in some spots without all that dirt covering it. Unfortunately there still appeared to be some tangles among the fluff, but those could be brushed out later.

“Aren't you going to sit down and have some?” you asked, confused as to why he continued to stand there,

“Sit… at the table?” his head snapped up to stare at you as the words tumbled from his open mouth. In his seemingly shocked state you were able to finally get a good look at his face now washed.

The hybrid was pale, and his cheeks sunken in from malnutrition. The wound over his eyebrow had stopped bleeding but the area around it was all red and angry. You could tell he’d been on the street for a while, and was exhausted if the circles underneath his eyes were anything to go by.

Despite all of this, the male across from you was handsome. He had nice full lips and high cheekbones underneath wide brown eyes, his hair, now clean, was a lovely light blonde color. Although it was shaggy, a little tangled, and definitely in need of a cut. Then at the top of his head stood a pair of fluffy ears with the same coloration as his tail.

After a long moment of staring between the two of you, he limped over and pulled out the chair opposite of you, and hesitantly sat down in it. He glanced up at you again, maybe waiting for you to start. With another reassuring smile, you grab your spoon and dig in. Once the first spoonful hit your mouth, he snatched up his spoon and started in on his food too.

The first couple of spoonfuls he started slow, but after that he tucked in with much more gusto. He made happy little noises as he dug into the hot broth. It took him only minutes to finish off the bowl, even tipping it back to get the rest of the liquid. His ears drooped slightly as he sat back and looked into his empty bowl forlornly.

“If you’re still hungry, have some more, there’s plenty.” you told him with a giggle, gesturing to the pot.

“N-no, I’m alright.” he stuttered out. The strange flick his tail did, and the look in his eyes told you differently.

“It’s ok, there’s plenty,” you responded, standing to ladle more into his bowl. This time he wasted no time tucking in and scarfing it down.

“So, my name is (Y/N), what’s yours?” you asked politely. You thought it was about time that you learned something about what was going on.

“My name?” he pondered for a moment before answering. “I’m Park Jimin,” he gave a short bow from his seat with the response.

“Park Jimin,” you repeated thoughtfully. “I like it!” you decided with a smile.

A beautiful smile lit up his face the moment the words left your mouth. His thick lips pulled back in a sweet smile that showed his teeth, and turned his eyes into little crescent moons. A light dusting of pink settled onto Jimin’s cheeks as he ducked his head and went back to his soup.

The moment you saw Park Jimin’s smile you knew you were a goner. With the appearance of that smile came the realization that you’d do just about anything to keep it on his face.

You observe him quietly while you finish your own bowl, Jimin however had another two. He looked up gratefully at you when ladled more into his bowl each time, his tail flicking back and forth. Around the middle of his fourth bowl, both his tail and his eyelids had started to droop. The hybrid looked sleepier and sleepier as time went on, but you wanted to deal with his wounds before you settle him in for the night.

Trying not to startle him, you stood slowly, gathering the dirty dishes from the table. When Jimin noticed you cleaning up, he hopped out of his seat and snatched his own dishes off the table before you could grab them too. With big eyes, he stood looking at you, waiting for you to make a move. He followed you like a shadow into the kitchen, immediately placing his dishes next to the sink with your own.

The hybrid then ignores your movement to return to the bathroom, and instead turns to the sink turning it on.

“Leave that for now, I’ll take care of it later.” You tell him turning the sink back off, holding your hand out to him.

Jimin’s ears go back again as he stares at you in confusion.

“You- I-?” he sputtered for a moment, eyes flicking between your face and your hand. “Shouldn’t I do it?” He finishes lightly placing his hand in yours.

“I’m a big girl, I can wash my own dishes,” you giggle, gently pulling him back to the bathroom. A look of utter confusion passed over his face, but he allowed you to tug him along.

You walked him back to the bathroom, taking care to go slowly so he could limp along without too much trouble.

Once there , you settle Jimin down on the edge of the tub, and open up the first aid kit. Flipping the lid open, you pull out a spray antiseptic.

“This is gonna sting a little.” you warned as you pushed back the tan strands of hair that flopped over his forehead as they dried. Now clean the cut above his eyebrow looked a bit smaller, and the edges looked clean like it had been done with something very sharp.

Carefully you sprayed the antiseptic over the slash mark, making Jimin wince as he gasped sharply.

“Sorry… Sorry,” you whisper, pulling a piece of gauze out of the kit on the counter, you lightly press the gauze to his forehead with one hand, using the other to attach it with medical tape. Once it seems secure, you take a step back to admire your work.

Jimin stared up at you with curious eyes, sleepiness seemingly entirely forgotten for the time being.

“Alright, now for the shoulder, shirt off.” you said with a gesture to the piece of clothing.

The hybrid stared at you for a long long moment, seeming to study you. It took a little for you to even realize why.

“Oh, I mean only if you’re comfortable…” you tried to back track. The tell tale feeling of warmth of a blush flooding your cheeks.

He then gave you a small nod, and began pulling the shirt over his head, wincing as he moved his shoulder up.

A gasp passed your lips as the true extent of the damage done to Jimin’s body was revealed. His malnutrition was even more obvious with the sight of his clearly visible ribs, the skin clung tightly to each one all the way down to his stomach slightly distended with the weight of the meal he’d just had. His hip and collar bones stuck out sharply showing once more how long it had been since he had a good one.

Bruises of various states of healing dotted up and down his emaciated form. Scars joined the mixture here and there across the expanse of pale skin some more healed than others.

Tearing your eyes from the hybrid’s chest, you moved to take a look at his battered arms. They were also dotted with bruises, but at the top of his arm and around his shoulder was a large patch of marred skin. It looked like he’d likely skidded across the ground on it. You could see bits of gravel still embedded in the skin, some parts still damp with spots of blood, others had already started to scab over. Lightly you pulled on his arm to turn his body to give you more access. This also gives you a view of his back.

“Oh, honey…” you breathed out in shock, nausea rose in you as your eye’s raked down his pale skin. His back was somehow even more mutilated than the rest of him. Thin, ropey scars crisscross across it in no apparent pattern. Thankfully even the newest ones looked mostly scarred over, like it had been a while since he’d gotten them.

Before you could think, you lightly dragged a finger down a raised line of skin. Jimin released a shuddered breath causing you to jerk back away from the injuries.

“I was bad a lot.” he whispered without turning to look at you. For a moment you stared dumbly at the back of his head before you realized what he meant.

“What? You meant these are punishments?” you asked shocked.

The cat hybrid didn’t respond at first, his breath rattled through his chest. It took a moment but eventually he gave a stiff nod. Suddenly his behavior through the night started to make sense. You didn’t know how much abusive bullshit they filled his head with.

“Oh Jimin, you don’t deserve anything like this.” you told him, tears starting to form in your eyes. Hesitantly you reach for him shaking, but you stop, hands hovering over his skin. Faint warmth radiated off as you looked over the expanse of marred skin on his back. Honestly you couldn’t tell if the hybrid was shaking more or if you were.

A loud sniffle escapes you, as you rub away a couple of tears tracking their way down your face. Jimin’s ears flick back towards you at the noise, and he whirls around to look at you.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly over eyes that studied you again with an intensity that had you dropping your hands into your lap. Jimin’s eyes search your face, following the tracks left by your tears. After a moment he broke your impromptu staring contest, drooping as he turned his face to the side.

“ Why are you crying?” he asks, not looking at you. His voice then gets really small. “I was naughty, it was my punishment.” The hybrid’s tan tail stays low but swishes side to side fast behind him.

“No no no, you don’t deserve this.” You move to reassure him, kneeling down on the floor in front of Jimin. He notices this, looking down at you as you sit and continue on, “ nothing you could ever do, would make it ok for them to do that to you.” By the end of your sentence your voice had started to waver. Jimin was fully looking at you by this point, mouth dropped open in shock.

It’s only a moment before his face crumples into tears. Quickly you pull the cat hybrid off of the tub rim, and into your arms. He startles, stiffening at first, before melting into your arms. His body trembles hard in your arms as he buries his face in your neck. You start rubbing his back slowly trying to calm him.

It took a while to get him to stop shaking, and even longer for his sniffles to slow. Pulling away carefully as his breathing calms, you raise a hand to wipe at the tear tracks covering his face as well now. Jimin just blinks slowly at you, pure exhaustion written all over his face. It’s definitely time to get him cleaned up and in bed.

“Come on, up.” you tell him, pulling him up as you stand. The hybrid’s eyes and tail are clearly drooping in sleepiness when you settle him back on the tub side. “I’ll finish cleaning you up. Then we can go to bed.”

Carefully you patch up both his shoulder and several large slices around his leg. All of the cuts appeared to be done with a knife like his face had. The questions you had about them could wait at least the night, while Jimin’s emotions were obviously still raw.

By the time you finish, he is clearly nodding off, jerking himself awake every few moments. When you move back to put your first aid stuff in the box, the hybrid’s big brown eyes blink blurrily up at you. His left hand raised to rub at his still somewhat red and blotchy face. Grabbing his hand, you pull him into a standing position, and help him put his shirt back on without messing with his wrapping too much.

“Alright, I have a guest bedroom that is all yours for the night.” you tell him, gently pulling him from the bathroom. In the same hallway were two doors, one being your room which you pointed out to him, the other being the guest room you were leading him to.

Opening the door, you help him hobble inside, holding onto his uninjured arm. You deposit him on the bed, and help him under the covers. Reaching over to a little side table situated next to the bed, you flick in a small lamp sitting on top. The dim light shows a sparsely decorated room.

The walls of the room were a pretty light blue color, but other than the bed and the table. The only furniture in the room was a dresser. A closet juts out into the room next to the entrance, a pair of large full body mirrors work as the sliding doors to it. Honestly the room was mostly set up for when your brother came into town, which you’re thankful for now.

Once Jimin was settled into bed, eyelids already falling, you straighten up, leaving the dim light on just in case. You sneak out of the room, leaving the door cracked, to let the exhausted hybrid sleep.

Quietly you go about cleaning up the remnants of your dinner. After taking care of the dishes, you turn in for the night as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: alright guys let me know what you think. And if you want another chapter!

[obiwanobi]

Catch me thinking about sith Anakin who got in a fight w/ Palps (did Palps cross a line? Did Anakin decide he had nothing to lose? Idk), barely managed to win and is now seriously hurting and a little freaked out winding up outside Obi-wan's quarters and Obi-wan doesn't have time to draw his saber let alone figure out how a sith lord managed to get so far into the jedi temple unnoticed and Force is that blood? before Anakin's passing out with only a murmered request for help.

LISTEN you can’t keep sending me perfect prompts, how do you know I can’t resist bloody men on their knees begging for salvation, how do you know me so well??? anyway here’s 2.3k of always-a-sith!Anakin who could have been the new ruler of the empire but said ‘no thanks, this is too much responsibility, I would like to be pampered by my favourite jedi now’ (with a bit of Ahsoka as Obi-Wan’s padawan!)

 He didn’t mean to kill him.

Well, not at first.

He didn’t mean to kill Sidious, but pulling his lightsaber from his lifeless corpse only felt like complete satisfaction. A weight on his shoulders he didn't know he carried disappeared, letting him stand up above the body of his master— former master, and gaze upon what was left of him. A shapeless form on the ground. A dark cape around an old man playing at being a god. A begging mess of futile promises when he realised it was the end for him.  

As mindless fury leaves him, his ragged breathing slows down and his fist unclenches around his saber. Sidious is dead. Now that the adrenaline rush is gone, his knees start shaking. His Master is dead. His face is wet with sweat and blood and tears. Dead and now Anakin has no one.

And then...  And then fear.

"You know," Ahsoka groans as the water starts boiling, "I don't understand how you got your reputation of Cool Jedi Master. Other padawans think I'm lying when I tell them you wear the ugliest slippers at home and gets excited by new tisanes."

"You gifted me those slippers."

"As a joke. And you still wear them."

"I'm not going to throw away perfectly good slippers." Obi-Wan wiggles his toes under the red and yellow fuzzy monstrosities, just to see his padawan rolls her eyes. "And they're really comfortable."

"So you're just going to stay there, then? Your whole battalion is out celebrating our first day of leave since forever, but you prefer to drink your tea alone and go to bed at 22:00?"

"No one wants an authority figure around when they're letting loose and celebrating, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan says, pouring hot water in his cup. He raises the kettle towards his padawan as a question, to which she shakes her head. "I thought you would be happy to see me putting sleep before work for once."

"I am, Master, but I thought it could be..." She trails off, fidgeting with the hilt of her sabers. For once, she looks like a typical padawan, just like he was at her age, dying to enjoy one night away from the temple and any kind of responsibilities.

"It's alright my dear," he sighs, "you can join them if you want."

Ahsoka suddenly perks up. "I can?"

"If you're old enough to be sent to the front, I think you can handle yourself for one night on Coruscant."

"Thank you Master! I promise I'll be careful and not come back too late!"

"You do that, and-- wait, Ahsoka," he adds as she's already halfway through the door, "make sure to stay around Cody! And no alcohol of any kind! And don't lose your lightsaber at sabacc again!"

"That was you!" she yells from the end of the corridor, "don't worry, I'll be fine! Don't wait for me to go to bed! Goodnight Master!"

Obi-Wan smiles, blowing on his cup. He already sent a message to Cody earlier to keep an eye on her, so he knows she's in good hands.

He has his herbal tea, his ugly slippers, no reports to read or write, and no immediate Separatist menace to plan for. For once, a perfectly good night to catch up on sleep and meditation.

So, of course, something has to be wrong.

The Force is bright. The Force is lighter than it has ever been for the past few years.

And Obi-Wan can't understand why.  

It's not just him that can feel it: Ahsoka has acted chipper since, more like the teenager she is, laughing with the clones and playfully teasing him the whole fly back to Coruscant. The temple has felt livelier than ever when they arrived, Jedi from all ages going about their day with a new spring in their step, greeting each other warmly in the corridors. Even Master Yoda has taken a few minutes during their Council meeting to note the shift in the Force. No Master could pinpoint the origin of this change, but all agreed that something good happened somewhere in the galaxy, and they were just feeling ripples of the effect in the Force.

Still now, the whole temple feels a bit more like it used to, before the war, and all Jedi are a bit happier without knowing why.

Only Obi-Wan feels like a noose tightening around him. Whatever it is, it's slowing making its way around his presence in the Force. Focusing on him and him alone. Doesn't matter how much Obi-Wan tries to hide himself, it's getting closer and never slowing down or losing interest.

Needless to say, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this.

But after almost three years of war, sullen faces and grim expressions, he doesn't feel like dampening the sudden good mood around the Temple just with a few words. He can probably deal with whatever it is by himself.

His tisane is cold when he finally emerges from his meditation. Nothing is clearer than when he started: the Force is deaf to his questions and inquiries, still light as a breeze. An airy unconcern for his restlessness. And yet, a thick pressure still looms around him, getting heavier each passing second now.

His fingers start pulling on his collar.

The clock on the wall indicates that he lied to Ahsoka when he said he was going to bed at a respectable time today. No diurnal Jedi would still be up right now, but he still considers going out to knock at Mace's door. Narrowed eyes and a very long sigh will be his first answer, but Obi-Wan knows that Mace would never refuse to hear him out. Yes, he finally decides when the pressure seems to creep even closer to him, it's worth waking up Mace.

He opens his door, wondering if he should take his robe with him, and instantly stops walking.

There, in the empty corridor of the Jedi Temple, at his door and on his knees, is a Sith. He knows it's a Sith only because he recognises this specific mass of hair, the large shoulders, the dishevelled dark robe. He knows it's a Sith because he has crossed path with this one enough times on the battlefield to recognise him anywhere. Outside of it a few times too. He isn't sure it's a Sith when the Sith raises his head up, bloody and bruised face torn in an agonizing expression, and his eyes are blue.

"I— I didn't know where to go," Darth Vader says quietly, with the kind of voice expected from a lost child. It gives Obi-Wan a second shock to hear his voice, making his presence suddenly real. "You said... You said if I ever wanted to, if I needed help one day, you would— I could—"

Obi-Wan remembers it. He remembers all the times he offered his help. His pleas for him to stop the violence, the appeals to reason, the multiple suggestions of a gentler path. His hand continuously outreached but never taken. He remembers the burning gold of the Sith's eyes too, and his black cape floating above the dead clones at his feet.

His laughter the first time Obi-Wan brought up the idea of lowering their blades and talking around a cup of tea. His sneer the third time Obi-Wan tried to change his misconceptions about the Jedi Order and play-flirt with him in the same breath. The silence the fifth time Obi-Wan asked him his name, his real name, the one a parent gave him.

The tears the last time he gave it to him.

"And you're always trying to save me," Vader adds more forcefully now, like the words anger him, "you're always here, showing up almost every time I'm sent somewhere with your stupid smile and stupid words, and you're always nice, and... and teasing, and disappointed when I kill someone, like you expect me to be better, and I don't understand you, but..."

Vader raises his hand towards him, and it's only this sudden move that shakes Obi-Wan out of his stupor. Before the Sith can touch his leg, Obi-Wan calls his lightsaber to him, ignites it in one fluid motion, half-expecting Vader to be up and swaying his saber in his face by now. But the Sith is still on his knees, and it's only now that the blue light of his blade is above him that Obi-Wan realises the state he's in. His face isn't the only thing bruised and battered: his dark tunic is stained with blood and ripped in more than one place, one of his arms is bent in an unnatural way, and it looks like a cut above his hairline is still bleeding, making his curls stick to his face in a mess of wet hair and burned skin.

"Vader," Obi-Wan says slowly, when his thoughts finally regain a semblance of coherence. A rapid investigation through the Force assures him that no other enemy is around and the calm and quiet of the night in the Temple isn't a prequel for a storm. "How did you get in here? What are you doing here? How—"

Vader's hand, stuck in the space between them, reaches once again for Obi-Wan. Foolishly, Obi-Wan lets him. His fingers twist themselves in the fabric of his pants.

"He made me killed them all.” Vader wobbles on his knees for a second, the hand on Obi-Wan's leg gripping it tighter. “No platoons, no battle droids. Just me. He sent me to the power station and I cut through them so easily, so quickly, they didn't even fight back, and I didn't think that..." he trails off, panting. "Until.... until I saw the electro-whips." 

"Are you talking about Naphtla?" he asks when Vader doesn't seem to be able to continue.

Naphtla. Outer Rim. Barely on the Republic radar until this afternoon, when nearby troops answered a distress signal and found a hidden Separatist power station operated by slaves. A third of them were dead, killed only a few hours before, and the survivors turned to the Republic for immediate support. Slaughtered like animals, the rescue team reported to the Council only a few hours ago, by one single man wielding a red lightsaber. According to witnesses, the darksider cut through the slaves like bantha butter, killing everyone in his path without discrimination, until he stopped for no apparent reason and abruptly left.

"You were the one who killed the people at the station there," Obi-Wan realises out loud, horrified, "the slaves from Zygerria."

Vader snaps his head up and his fingers tighten painfully around Obi-Wan's knee. "I DIDN'T KNOW!"

All Obi-Wan's senses and logical thoughts urge him to back out, put an end to this nonsensical charade, raise his lightsaber between them, get away from the dark, hungry void Vader generates in the Force.

But his eyes are looking up to him. Gripping his gaze with the same intensity as his hand on his leg. Bloodied face and pleading, on his knees. Full of tears.

Obi-Wan doesn't push Vader's hand away.

"I didn't know they were slaves, I didn't!"

"Vader."

"He never said! He sent me without telling him, he knows I don't—" A small noise sounding suspiciously like a sob swallows the rest of his words.

"Vader, who sent—"

"When I came back," he tries again, quieter. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to ask about this he, but Vader's head lolls for a second, too heavy to support, before butting gently against Obi-Wan's leg. Vader makes no effort to move, content to stay there, and after a second, a small, almost timid nuzzle against his thigh sends a series of shivers through Obi-Wan's spine. It shuts him up instantly. "When I came back, he looked at me for so, so long, before saying that he knew, he knew I was going to fail, that I was... just like them after all, and that I could never... And I was so mad, so angry at him, so I... I..."

The last words are muffled by the fabric Vader clings to. Hides into. There's blood on Obi-Wan's pants now.

"What have you done, Vader?" Obi-Wan asks, softer than he intended. "Vader," he asks again when no reply comes, without success. The hand not holding his lightsaber moves, hesitates for a moment, then settles lightly on Vader's hair, mindful not to touch any open wounds. His fingers nudge him to tip his head back, gently, carefully, and settle on his cheek to hold his face up, looking at him. "Anakin." His name, his true name, makes him blink a few times. "Anakin, what have you done?"

"I killed him," he finally admits, barely audible. He looks exhausted, more like a child in need of rest than ever.

"Who did you kill?"

"My master."

"Dooku? You killed Dooku?"

"No," Vader— Anakin frowns, like Obi-Wan should know better. "Sidious."

It's a bit much to process in one day. Another Sith Lord, Vader's master, concealed and kept a secret, now dead, killed by his apprentice —and does that make Vader the ruling Sith Lord now? Do Sith have rulers?— the lightness in the Force the same day, a half-dead Vader begging for help in the middle of the night in the Jedi Temple, and all of that while Obi-Wan is still wearing his ugly slippers.

He's so glad he sent Ahsoka away for the night.

Anakin doesn't let him time to feel the migraine coming.

"I can't do it, I can't be my master, I can't— and Dooku hates me, he will never help me, even if I let him have it all, he will never..." Vader seems to run out of steam, and lets his eyes close as his head falls once again against Obi-Wan's thigh. Closer. "You said you could help me. You said I could come to you at any time. You said you would always be there if I didn't want to... do this, anymore."

"I did," Obi-Wan assures him, his hand lightly petting his hair again.

Anakin lets out a long breath. His fingers tighten on the fabric of Obi-Wan's pants, loosen, and tighten again.

"You're the only one I trust," the Sith quietly tells the Jedi, and it's the saddest thing Obi-Wan has ever heard.

[hotwings0203]

I JUST SAW FIGHT CLUB AND HOOOLLYYY-

Bro could you IMAGINE FightClub!Bakugo?

Tw:noncon, language, harassment

Okay okay get this: you’re down in the basement listening to the usual men holler and punch each other around while you do your job as their cute little “accountant”. While many of them have good jobs and a real life, the actual members don’t have time or the intellect to juggle the numbers and money around as fast as you can. You’ve been coming here for a while now, and you’re used to the jeers and wolf-whistles coming your way since you’re basically one of the few or only women who dare to come down here.

But there’s one fighter who just can’t seem to take no for an answer.

Bakugo fucking Katsuki.

The man is ruthless, he’s relentless, he’s a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. You swear he’s had to have taken a shitload of steroids in his youth, otherwise how else could he have built up that much muscle? There’s no way an average gym-goer has that kinda build.

He’s always the first and the last one out in the rink, swaying back and forth with his fists up, a twisted grin on his face that was so reminiscent of a wolf before it lunges for its prey.

It usually took more than two men to pull him off the unconscious bodies that he had just beaten to a pulp, effectively breaking one of Fight Clubs Rules: get up when someone is down.

But he’s too good to let go, no one has the balls to tell him to take his money somewhere else since they’re all scared shitless of him.

Which leads him to believing that he’s practically a god down here, that he can conquer anything: including you.

No one really calls it harassment because no one really cares. What’s so wrong in a guy having a little crush? What, you came down here seeing all this testosterone but you can’t deal with it yourself? Don’t be a prudish bitch.

“Bakugo, I’m at work right now, I don’t want to.”

“C’mon toots, this ain’t even real work, you’re just fumblin’ my hard earned cash.” He grins slyly and crosses his bulging muscular arms, leaning against the doorway of the little office you’re given to work your magic.

You turn in your rickety seat and glare at him, ignoring the way he licks his lips and lets his eyes roam all over your body. “If I’m so shit at my work then go somewhere else and stop bothering me.”

He chuckles in his baritone voice and shakes his head at you. “Naw, can’t do that sweets. If I did then I’d never be able to see your pretty face again now, could I?” Bakugo leers at you and you turn your face in disgust.

“I don’t wanna go out for lunch, or ever with you. Now get out before I have to call someone in here.”

“Oh, is that so?” He uncrosses his arms and steps through the threshold, his body growing larger and more menacing as he slowly draws closer to you. Luckily a fight had broken out near the office months ago so there was no more door from the aftereffects, but that didn’t mean you felt safe even with open space.

“G-get out. I’m serious, Bakugo-“

“-Call me Katsuki, angel. And you don’t really mean that, do you? Look at you, you can barely look me in the eye when you say such mean things.” His voice drops an octave as he comes to stand in front of your seated form, towering above your wide eyes, clenched fists and trembling figure.

He leans down and you flinch and gasp as his breath ghosts over your face. He places both arms on either side of your chair so you have nowhere to look but him.

“You’re such a nice breath of fresh hair down here, through all the blood and violence. You’re like a flower...” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear and breaths out a laugh when you turn your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“A flower, so fragile...a flower that smells so fucking good...” you feel like you can’t properly breathe as he leans in next to your ear and inhales deeply.

“A flower waiting to be deflowered herself.”

“What’s going on here?” A lanky body in the doorway appears.

Bakugo pulls back and turns his head ever so slightly towards the dude, growling under his breath at the interruption.

“We’re in the middle of something here, so you can just get the fuck ou-“

“-Well, it doesn’t really look like she’s into whatever you’re doing,” the man scoffs and takes in your pale face and shaking hands.

Bakugo stands to his fullest height, almost neck and neck with the man at the door.

“Yeah? I didn’t hear a complaint from her.” He cocks his head and stretches, allowing his muscles to ripple with each movement, something that didn’t go unseen by your much skinnier savior.

But he doesn’t back down. He only swallows and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, we’re all being called out to put our bets in for the next match anyways, so you better come out before we get our asses kicked.”

The blond grumbles about weak men and no balls, then casts a dark look at your frozen figure before shouldering past the man at the door, almost knocking him down.

As soon as he’s out of your line of vision, you exhale and relax into your seat.

“You okay?” The fallen soldier scrambles back up and cautiously approaches you, looking over your body in a way that didn’t remind you of Bakugo undressing you with his eyes...rather, it was a protective, and worried once-over.

“Yeah, he’s just...a lot to handle sometimes. Doesn’t know when to quit.” You laugh shakily and run a hand through your hair.

“No wonder the dude’s a menace. He’s used to getting what he wants, I guess.” The man acknowledges this grimly, and for the first time you’re relieved that finally someone hasn’t turned a blind eye to your harassment.

“Are they really calling us down for bets?”

“No, I just said that to get him off your ass. Didn’t seem like you liked whatever he was doing.”

You give him a wobbly smile and he returns it.

“Sooo we should probably run before he comes back up here, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” you actually giggle before leaping out of your seat and joining the man to bound up the steps two at a time to freedom.

You both end up bonding pretty well over the weeks, even going out for coffee and lunch dates here and there. You’ve come to really like him, his shyer demeanor more than a majority of the ragtag men down in the basements, his chivalry refreshing to you amongst the blood and foul language thrown around the ring.

You feel like a woman with him, not some piece of ass like you were used to.

Bakugo noticed all this, of course. You started avidly avoiding him, ducking your head down and hiding behind your new ally before he could open his coarse mouth and stalk towards you. He couldn’t find you in your dingy office anymore either, because your savior was up in a cafe doing the calculations with you, laughing away about the latest matches.

That has to change. Effective immediately.

“Yo, newbie. How you been? Haven’t seen you fightin’ here for a while,” Bakugo claps his meaty hand on the scrawny guy’s back, nearing sending him toppling over.

“Yeah, y’know, just haven’t been feeling it lately.” He rubs the stinging feeling away from his sore shoulders and side eyes the blond suspiciously. He had seen firsthand just how bad-news of a guy he was, and he didn’t wanna get caught up in all that.

But Katsuki wasn’t just all brawn. He had some brains, too.

“Look, I know I prolly gave off a weird first impression with Y/N back then. But it’s all in good health, ‘was just messin’ around like I always do.”

“Yeah, sure...”

“How ‘bout we get some coffee or somethin’? You seem like a solid dude, plus we got shit in common to talk about.”

Like fucking around with my bitch.

“Uh, you sure? I kinda’ wanted to see the last fight,” he trails off unsuredly, scratching his jaw as Katsuki steers him away from the growing crowd.

“There’ll always be fights, man. I wanna show you that I’m a nice guy.”

Bakugo Katsuki was not a nice guy.

And everyone knew that too, which is why when some shifted to give the duo a curious glance he met them with a death glare. Any gazes locked on Katsuki’s hand wrapped around the lanky guy’s shoulders were immediately casted down.

You didn’t see your savior for a while.

It had been two weeks since he mysteriously disappeared from his usual place in the outskirts of the crowd, because unbeknownst to you, a certain fighter was keeping him away from you and convincing him to have a friendly brawl over lunch.

You only found out about it on a Friday night, when a crowd much bigger than before was gathered in the dim basement, voices hushed and whispering.

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone so quiet?” You whisper to one of the usuals.

“‘Heard Bakugo’s fighting some dude that was handpicked by himself. He somehow managed to convince the poor bastard to have some kinda’ match with him.”

You felt your heart sinking.

“Who did he pick?”

“‘Dunno, some skinny guy, a newbie I think. Hasn’t been around for too long so I guess he doesn’t know how big of a monster he’s gonna be beaten by.” The groupie shrugged, and you felt the blood drain from your face.

Without saying another word, you spun around and started running around all over the place looking for either of the two.

You end up stumbling into the men’s bathroom, desperate beyond salvation to stop this bloodbath.

He’s there, he’s at the urinal and he yelps when he hears you barge in. You avert your eyes and let his adjust himself as he sputters indignantly.

“Y/N? What’re you doing in here? This is a men’s-“

“Don’t fight him.”

“What?”

“Don’t fight Bakugo, please, he’s gonna kill you, I know he is-“

“-Calm down, what’re you so worked up about? C’mon, I would’ve thought you’d had a little bit more faith in me to be able to stand my ground.” He teases you but you don’t find it funny, on the contrary you’re terrified out of your mind for his life.

“Did he put you up to this? How could you fight him, you’ve seen what he does to the other guys in the ring!”

“Well yeah, but he knows not to go that hard on me. Actually, he’s not that bad of a guy, we’ve gotten some drinks for the past two weeks and I was wrong about him.”

You gape at him. “Wrong? You saw how he cornered me that one day!”

He shrugs, not put off by the distant memory. “The guy just came back from a fight, he still had testosterone going through him. You can’t blame him for wanting to let a bit of it out, right? You should really give him a chance y’know, he talks about you all the t-“

But you can’t hear anymore, this is madness, there’s barely 10 minutes left until they’re going to call the two down for their death match. You need to find the source of this problem firsthand.

And somehow, a little voice inside your head tells you exactly where you know he is.

You round the corner to your office and there he is in all his glory, seated like a king on your chair, leaned back with his knees spread, carelessly looking through your bank statements and bet papers.

He barely looks at you as he says, “Oh there you are, I was starting to think you’d miss the show.”

You sink to your knees.

He looks up at that.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, your dry throat barely permits you to choke out, “Bak-Katsuki, please, please don’t do this. Please don’t fight him.”

He cracks his neck and leans forward, regarding you with dark vermilion eyes. He looks your position over appreciatively before speaking.

“Why not? He’s so good and great isn’t he? I’m just trying to show you how right you were, after all. I’m sure he’s got a fair chance of beating me.”

You shake your head vigorously, knowing what he’s playing at.

“No, no, you’re better, please. I was wrong about him, I shouldn’t have been friends with him, please don’t fight him Katsuki I’ll do anything-“

“-Oh you’ll do anything I say regardless of if I beat him to a bloody pulp or not. You wanna know why?”

You can barely contain a whimper as he stands and walks over right in front of you, his bulging crotch mere inches away from your face.

He suddenly grabs your hair and you cry out before he yanks your head up to meet his cold eyes.

“Because no one in here is gonna say shit to me. I run things here, toots. And if you want your little boy toy to live through today, you’re gonna watch every blow I give to him, and you’re gonna kiss the fucking knuckles I beat his face with. Got that?”

You sob as he grinds his clothed erection against your tear-streaked face, sniffling when he moans loudly and bucks into your open mouth.

A loud knock on the bare hinges stops Bakugo from pulling the front of his shorts down.

You both turn your heads and see a red-faced side-liner looking down and mumbling something about the match starting.

“‘Be there in a minute. Tell the guys to give my girl here a special front-row seat to this match, she’s gonna wanna see her man win, after all.”

The runner scampers off, leaving you both alone.

He bares his teeth down at you and you cower under his painful hold, the roots of your hair ripping from their strands.

He eventually tosses your head to the side after a few seconds of staring you down, and the second he does you clutch your sore cranium.

“I better see you down there in a minute sweet thing. You gotta get used to it anyways, since you’re gonna be getting accustomed to my rituals before and after matches.”

[pudgecuddles]

Okay but. Star Trek AU where NJ is the captain of the USS Bulletproof, a diplomatic starship on a mission to offer peace to foreign planets.

In this world, everyone eats nutrition cubes. Brightly colored, low carb, zero sugar cubes of plant material. The amount per serving calculated exactly to the individual passenger’s caloric needs.

One day, the ship encounters a merchant ship stranded in space. Taking the alien in, they are paid for their good deed with ancient earth information. Menus salvaged from old greasy diners…

Ever the curious mind, Namjoon enlists mechanic Yoongi to help him unlock the unused meal replication function of the cube creator.

After Yoongi took some time inputting the information from the menu, Namjoon ordered the item called a “Cheeseburger”.

Ignoring Yoongi’s warnings, Namjoon takes a bite of the strange meal and instantly takes another. And another. Before he knows it, the sandwich is gone and he’s ordering another.

Yoongi can only watch as his captain becomes addicted to the fatty food in real time. Any protest that passed his lips was brushed off, and any attempt to shut off the machine was met with official orders not to.

Months pass, and not a single officer can recall what their caption looks like without a carton of fries, a milkshake or a triple cheeseburger in his grease covered hands. Soon enough, Namjoon finds himself struggling to fit into his uniform.

Not a problem though, he’d just order a new one. Problem solved, right? It was just shrunk in the wash. Or maybe it was switched with Jimin’s uniform, he thought ignoring the fact that the number of stripes on the shoulders said otherwise…

You see, in this future, no one ever gained weight. It is literally unheard of. A rumor at best. So the fact that the crews captain seemed to be growing wider around the middle, and maybe even a little bit everywhere was concerning if not medically confounding!

Medical officer Hoseok finally had enough. Ordering his captain to the Med Bay, he gives the younger man a full physical.

Baffled by the soft pudge now covering every inch of his captain, Hoseok pinched and groped at the flesh. Shaking it only to watch it wobble even after letting go.

Scratching his head, Hoseok concluded that Namjoon was free of illness, parasites, poisoning, and even alien influence… His body just seemed to be expanding at an alarming rate!

“The only thing I can think of is those new cubes you’re eating…” Hoseok trailed off, staring as his captain sucked at the odd opaque tube Namjoon called a “straw”. Apparently, a thick liquid flowed up it and into Namjoon’s mouth. An ingenious device, admittedly. He wondered if it would work with water or if it’s function was exclusive to these “milkshakes”.

“I guess?” Namjoon pulled his lips off the straw with a loud pop, prodding at his drooping belly. “I mean, I only started… growing… after I added ‘fast food’ to my diet.”

Replaced, you mean… Hoseok mentally corrected. Neither he nor the rest of the officers had seen Namjoon so much as take a taste of a nutrition cube since he started eating cheeseburgers and fries.

Satisfied that their captain was okay, Hoseok’s concern faded into curiosity. When would the growth stop? Where would the softness go? Would there be an end to it? Or would his captain keep growing and growing?

And what was it about that fast food that made Namjoon go so crazy over it?

Sending Namjoon off with a clean bill of health, on the condition that he can keep eating as long as he writes down his measurements and other effects, Hoseok makes his way to the canteen… just a taste wouldn’t hurt would it?