#can we say sequel perhaps

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Beyond Doubt || Syzoth/Reptile

Warning(s): Johnny Cage being Johnny Cage, female reader, teasing, embarrassment, oral (f), use of reptilian tongue.

No Minors Allowed!!

Fucking Cage. 

This is his fault. If he had not opened his big fucking mouth at dinner then you would not be in this embarrassing situation, having to hide out in a spare room at the Wu Shi Academy to avoid the awkward stares you know your fellow protectors will give you.  

It is easier just to avoid them until Liu Kang has a task for you to complete. 

Resting on your makeshift bed of thin blankets, you decide to wait until dark to venture out. Most of the protectors will be busy with their own things, you are sure, so the chances of running into them will be slim. No. You should not have to feel uneasy about meeting your allies eye to eye, especially Syzoth, but because of Johnny fucking Cage, it can not be helped. 

“Serious question though,” Johnny uttered. He leaned in from his seat at the table and grinned. “Who of Earth’s protectors do you think is incompetent at eating pussy?”

You nearly choked on your drink. What prompted him to ask such a question? You opted not to answer, to ignore him, but he would not let up. 

“My bet is pretty boy down there,” he had mentioned, gesturing toward Baraka at the far end of the table. “Or the Lizard.” 

“The Lizard?” You asked in a whisper.

Johnny pointed to Syzoth across from you. 

“You know, Doctor Conners.”

Sadly, you knew the reference. Turning up your eyes, you realize that Johnny was not using an inside voice. Several of the protectors and allies seated at the table, including Syzoth and Baraka turned their attention to you. An embarrassed heat spread across your face. You glared at Johnny. 

“Don't you know how to whisper?” You asked with a snap. 

“Maybe if it were between us,” he answered.

So, he wanted them to hear. Or to contribute.  

“I'm not answering that?” 

“Come on,” Johnny pleaded. “Everyone is curious to know.”

He pointed to Bi-han.

“Even Mr. Freeze.”

“I do not care,” the said man quickly retorted. 

You groaned. This was ridiculous. And extremely embarrassing.

“I said no.”

“It's the Lizard, isn't it? Tell me I'm right,” Johnny stated with a grin. 

No, he wasn't. But you would be lying if you said you weren't curious about him. Has he ever had sex in his human form? You averted your eyes to the floor, an action that Johnny seemed to take as a sign of acceptance. 

“Right on the money!” Johnny exclaimed. 

“Why me?” Syzoth asked, raising a brow. 

You did not have an answer for him. There was a small doubt, but honestly, you did not answer because you knew Johnny would not leave you alone about it until you picked someone. Syzoth seemed the lesser of two evils. There was no way you were going to outright insult Baraka. 

“Whoa! I know that look,” Johnny declared. “Are you eager to find out?”

You widen your eyes. The fuck. Before he can help you dig a deeper grave for yourself, you stand from the table and walk away. You've never been more embarrassed. 

And strangely curious. 

The creek of the door to your room suddenly brings you from your thoughts. You watch in horror as it opens with no one on the other side. Doubting that the Academy is haunted, you sit up and clutch your hands into a fist, waiting to throw down with whoever is sneaking in on you, but before your eyes, you watch as Syzoth appears in the room. 

“Is this a bad time?” He asks. “I can come back.” 

You raise a brow. What is he doing running around invisible? You opt not to ask. 

“It's fine…I guess.”

What does he want? Is he here because of earlier? Your face heats up. 

“It's late, isn't it?” You ask.

Syzoth nods. 

“Most everyone is asleep. It's why I came here.”

“To talk? Could it not have waited?”

The reptilian shakes his head and squats beside the bed.  

“You never answered his question?”

Question? You raise a curious brow. However, the realization hits you like a punch to the gut. 

“Are you eager to find out?”

Your face heats up. Is he serious? 

“You came here to ask me that?”

Syzoth nods. 

“I wouldn't have, but your curiosity was evident.” 

Was it? You tighten your jaw.

“Listen. He was just talking out of his ass; it's what Johnny does. And I never meant–”

“So you don't wish for me to prove beyond a doubt that I am more than capable,” Syzoth protests. 

To be honest, you do. But this is too forward. You feel at a loss for words. On the other hand, however, you might never get this offer again. Survival isn't guaranteed. 

You wet your lips.

“I do.”

Syzoth grins. He closes the gap swiftly like the predator he is and crawls onto the bed. But you rest your hand on his chest, keeping him from moving on top of you. This is honestly moving too fast for your liking, but you understand the decision to move this along.  

“I never meant to single you out like that.” 

Taking hold of your arm, he pulls it from his chest and leans you back on the bedding, pressing your arm down near your head.

“We shall see,” Syzoth states.

He leans down and briefly kisses your lips before he releases you and crawls down your body to rest between your legs. Removing your nightwear and your panties, he wastes no time and spreads your outer lips. Clearly, you were wrong about him. 

 A brief wave of pleasure rolls over you as his tongue briefly flicks across you. He's not too bad. Better than you had expected. You sigh in relief.

For a few seconds more, Syzoth teases your clit, then with a gentle spontaneous kiss, he moves down and thrusts his tongue into your pussy. You jerk in response, but it is not so much the abruptness of it as it is the sensation. There is something strange about it. You have never felt a tongue like this inside of you before. It does not feel human; it is long and slender. Unfortunately, it takes you a moment to realize that he is using his actual reptilian tongue to taste your cunt. You are not sure what to think about the action, but it feels pleasantly indescribable. So much so. 

A warmth overtakes you, spreading across your body. You can not believe how much you are responding to this. But perhaps it is because this is new. It feels almost taboo and this alone makes you want Syzoth more. 

When his tongue touches your cervix, a deep pleasure twists your stomach and you grasp the bedding tight on either side of you in response. You hate to admit it, but this act will never last, not when he is twirling his tongue inside you like a parched beast. The more he teases your cunt, the harder it is to hold off your orgasm. 

“Easy,” you plead, nudging him with your thigh. 

Not just yet. 

You want to enjoy this more.

Syzoth sits back and cleans his grinning lips with his human tongue, then slips his hand between your legs and slides a finger into your wet heat. A low sigh of appreciation leaves your mouth. 

“I don't scare you?” He asks, tilting his head. 

“That's a funny thing to ask someone when you are knuckle deep in them,” you retort.

Syzoth snorts. He adds another finger and pumps it leisurely inside you in a circular motion. The deep intense pressure on your walls forces your body to tighten. 

“I underestimated you a bit, which I admit was wrong,” you continue. 

“You surely are,” Syzoth agrees. “But I've not nearly begun to prove you incorrect.”

An embarrassed heat rises to your face. What more does he have in mind?

Leaning down, he captures your clit and teases it, sucking on it lightly as he slows his movement. The dull pleasure this creates is not enough to build on. And what’s worse, Syzoth knows this. He gently runs his tongue over the bundle of nerves until you can no longer take the inconsistent ebb and flow. 

“Please. Don't make me beg,” you insist.

His breath pours against your clit as he laughs. But upon your desperate request, he hastens his pace. The lewd sound of your cunt, as he pumps his fingers into you permeates the air, bringing an embarrassed heat to your face. You are more aroused by him than you thought. Though it's not unwelcome. What annoys you more is that Syzoth is unknowingly conditioning your body to take him, but the reason he came here was not to fuck you.

Unless perhaps you asked. Or begged. 

A jolt of pleasure shoots across your body, tearing you from your thoughts. The reptilian flicks his tongue up and down your clit at a relentless pace. You don't mind, however. It feels too damn good. Your body tightens and arches as the pressure increases, edging you closer to that feeling of elation you hunger for. 

It's almost too soon. But you want it. 

I need it…I need to cum. 

Your thoughts are consumed by the image of him manhandling you into a mating press as he fucks you. The blissed-out wreck he would make of you seems too real. You can feel it. The tension, the delicious stretch of your walls as your cunt is filled. 

A deep heat overtakes you, bringing tears to your eyes. The faint tickle of an orgasm builds quickly. It is far too late to stop it now, not like you desire to. You stare up at the ceiling and shove a hand over your mouth in an attempt to contain your desperate moans, but they still fill your ears as an intense orgasm washes over you.

Your body arches in response, tensing up, but Syzoth easily presses you down onto the bedding as he coaxes you through it. 

When it begins to fade, your body goes slack from exhaustion. Warm tears leak from the corner of your eyes, sliding down your heated face. You are on cloud nine, but the finisher comes when Syzoth again sinks his forked tongue into your fluttering cunt. Your body arches and the hand over your mouth slips down and into the hood of his outfit, taking hold of his short locks.

This is a bit too much. You whine in desperation. There is no pain, but the overstimulation feels like sharp tickles coursing through your body. Luckily, Syzoth takes the hint and removes his tongue from you.

Holy fuck. 

Sitting up, Syzoth crawls on top of you, coming up the bed.      

“Was that acceptable?”

You nod. 

“Beyond a doubt.”

He grins. 

“For you perhaps.”

What? He leans down and trails his human tongue across your cheek.

“As I said, I have nearly just begun,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” You question. It's all you can muster, given this revelation. 

Syzoth snorts

“Another time perhaps. When you’re not so unraveled.”  

You can hardly wait.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

blade gunnblade !!!!!!!!

via eliza simpson:

There are no words for this true warrior. They kill me. MMM: went in for a post show hug. Me:"ow!" Asia: "oh sorry, that's my bullet necklace." 😳........ 😍

[insertdisc5]

TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!

hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.

some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have

Outer Wilds

If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT

[way more timeloop games under the cut]

Oxenfree

I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!

Hikeback

i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it

The Stanley Parable

Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

12 minutes

ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.

this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.

Zero Escape

it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!

START AGAIN: a prologue

this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)

Ghost Trick

ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it

Elsinore

im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet

The Forgotten City

a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game

Gnosia

Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…

Loop Hero

Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!

You and Me and Her: A Love Story

you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)

Higurashi

knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!

that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like

[wileys-russo]

NOOOO now we need a pt 2 of cough medicine with a grumpy reader because alexia has passed the cold to her and alexia dressing up in the nurse outfit to surprise her…

lil sequel to this ! suggestive content at the end cough medicine 2.0 II a.putellas

"mi princesa i said i was sorry!" your girlfriend groaned as you scoffed and reached to grab the bottle of water on the coffee table in front of you.

"sorry doesn't make me not sick alexia i warned you!" you grunted ou in annoyance, pushing away her hands which attempted to massage your shoulders.

"bebita in my defense-" your girlfriend started, accent thick as she spoke english but the withering glare you shot her had her wishing she'd mumbled it in spanish and out of your earshot as she fell silent and your attention returned to the television.

"can i get you something?" the catalonian asked sweetly as you ignored her, tucking your knees up to your chest and pulling the blanket to your chin. "mi amor do you need anything? tissue, cough medicine, tea, soup, a hug?" your girlfriend smiled hopefully as you shot her a blistering side eye.

"for you to leave me alone." you grumbled, sniffling and wiping your nose with the sleeve of your hoodie. you'd even refused to wear one of alexia's and thats when she knew you were perhaps just a touch beyond the normal level of grumpy you became when unwell.

though really alexia knew it was her fault. you'd at first been strong and held quite firm to the no kissing rule when she was sick last week, needing to still be viable and healthy to look after her as well as work from home while you did so.

now to the average bystander they'd not know the true nature of your girlfriends incredibly clingy tendencies, but when her walls were down and it was just the two of you she melted like a icey in the sun, crawling on top of you.

if you didn't react fast enough she'd grab your arms and wrap them around her, tucking them up the back of whatever was covering her torso, the blonde mumbling into your neck she wanted back scratches and you'd often tease that if she got any closer she'd be inside your skin.

then when alexia was sick it was even more dire that she have every possible ounce of your attention and touch. so as the hours ticked by and you'd still held firm that her lips weren't to touch yours and she not get too close, her attempts to break you down also doubled.

unfortunately to your own detriment you also found yourself feeling a little touch starved, and the more effort alexia made to getting you to crack the closer and closer you stepped toward the edge.

but over and over you warned her that not only did you have to work but you had a music festival with your friends on the weekend you needed to be in fit and fighting shape for.

spoiler alert, a night of consolation kisses to cheer up your incredibly pouty and miserable girlfriend who was informed she'd not be fit enough to make the squad this weekend meant it was needless to say you weren't going to the music festival now.

it had been frosty for the last two days since.

you'd even gone as far as to put up a pillow wall as a compromise for not kicking alexia out of the bed much to the constant whining and apologizing and groveling and begging and pleading you were far too tired and unwell to give into.

"mi vida. por favor i do not know what else to do, i have said over and over i am very sorry!" alexia groaned again, collapsing into the sofa beside you, thumping into the cushions and hazel eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"i told you, leave me alone." you huffed, well aware you were now bordering on overreacting but your dampened state of well being and the fomo of watching your friends all have fun at the festival without you was making it near impossible to move on from that.

with one final sigh and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before you could push her away alexia did as you asked and left you be. and with the warmth of the blanket and your inconsistent temperature it didn't take long before you drifted off.

when you woke up it was to an all too familiar smell, lifting your head groggily and peeking over the back of the lounge you could see your girlfriend with her back to you in the kitchen.

you hadn't made a single noise but alexia could feel your eyes on her as she glanced over her shoulder and threw you a smile which you didn't return, though you also didn't turn away, resting your chin on top of the sofa and watching her as she cooked.

"are you making your soup?" you rasped out after awhile, unable to ignore the overwhelmingly alluring smell wafting closer and closer. "maybe." alexia grinned coyly as you rolled your eyes and flopped back down onto the sofa.

"not in the mood for cute." you quipped with a huff, stretching your arms out behind your head and tuning back into the spanish soap opera your girlfriends sister had gotten you shamefully addicted to, though alba never ceased to tease that you needed the subtitles on.

you glanced up when you heard someone clear their throat, looking up at your girlfriend for a fleeting moment as she stood before you and placed down two bowls of soup on the coffee table before your gaze returned to the television

but then when you realized alexia had done an outfit change, your head snapped back so fast you near gave yourself whiplash.

"hola bebita." she purred with a suggestive smile as you sat upright and covered your mouth with your hand, taking in your incredibly athletically built girlfriend in all her glory.

her glory being the ill fighting barely covering nurses costume that was yours which was sitting taunt against her muscular body.

given the fact it was made in your size and not hers, and she easily stood two and a half heads taller, she looked like one wrong move would have her bursting out of it like the hulk.

and so you did the only thing your body could do in the moment taking her in and the way her thick quad muscles had the garters wrapped around them about a millisecond from snapping, you collapsed backwards into the sofa clutching at your stomach, body heaving with laughter which rang around your empty shared home.

the reaction was clearly not what the taller girl anticipated as her mouth formed a small o and she crossed her arms, the way the sleeves ripped as she did so only making you laugh harder.

"hey! this was supposed to be sexy, not funny!" alexia protested with a huff, your head shaking to and fro as you tried to stop laughing for a moment so you could get a word out.

"cariño its not funny!" alexia groaned, a slight blush coating her cheeks as she shuffled closer. "oh mi amor you're forgiven. you're so forgiven!" you pulled your phone out and wiped a stray tear, snapping a few photos as your girlfriend gasped and tried to cover up.

"well this was not what i wanted but i am glad to at least see you smile again." alexia gave in with a shake of her head, moving to sit down beside you so you could both eat, grateful to hear her favorite noise once more as your belly laughter subsided into giggles.

but right as she did a strange noise sounded and your hand once more flew to your mouth, alexia now near naked beside you as the entire back of the ensemble ripped clean in half, your eyes raking over the taunt tattooed and tanned skin of her back.

"don't." alexia warned seriously, a pleading look in her eyes as you lost it again, sagging into her and clutching at your stomach as the sounds of your laughter filled the air. "amor!" alexia whined, clearly embarrassed as her hands flew to cover her own face.

"are you comfortable?" you teased, sitting up on your knees beside her once your laughter had settled, wrenching alexia's hands away from her face with a raised eyebrow. "no." your girlfriend mumbled with a huff and a roll of her eyes.

"so now you understand how it feels when i dress up for you." you hinted, eyebrow raising even higher as alexia sighed but nodded. "i have more muscles! it hurts more." the girl huffed, bottom lip jutting out into a slight pout.

"thats what you're going to take from all of this? ale i just forgave you, don't piss me off again." you huffed smacking her chest lightly as the corners of her mouth curled upward slightly.

"why not? it is what you are taking from this, no?" the slight smile turned into a full on grin now as she settled back into the lounge a little more clearly making an effort to flex her biceps and upper arm muscles as they sat folded behind her head.

"still not in the mood for cute. and thanks to you i'm sick, so if it was sex you were angling for putellas...think again." your hand smacked gently against her cheek a few times with a wink.

though before you could reach for your food your back was flat against the sofa and your girlfriend hovered over you, settling herself on her knees between your legs.

"you know bebita, there is still a lot i can do for you while you are unwell. but only if you are feeling up to it!" a singular finger trailed down your bare leg, her smirk widening at the goosebumps which arose in response.

"well you are a nurse, and it would be wrong of me to assume i know what i need better than a nurse." you smiled, alexia raising an eyebrow as she sunk a little lower, a few kisses trailed up your leg as you hummed, already feeling better as they got higher and her large hands gripped your thighs pushing your legs even further apart.

you sighed in pleasure and tangled your hands in her hair as her chin rested on your abdomen, looking up at you with a smile as she played with the hem of your shorts, t-shirt pushed upward and a few kisses placed to your stomach as your eyes fluttered closed and your shorts suddenly dissapeared.

"let me make it all feel better princesa."

[maingh0st]

i know i'm not the first to say this, but the acolyte's cancellation has confirmed how tired i am of disney's decision-making when it comes to their content. i know nostalgia is the easiest way to a big payout, but we can only take so many spinoffs before the universe starts to feel too small. but then fresh content—content that's building on the canon by looking to old star wars lore while asking new questions—fizzles out.

it's the sequel trilogy all over again. we're promised something new, something that actually expands the canon rather than just recycling it, even bringing in concepts from legends, and then the rug is ripped out from underneath us & we're punished for ever caring about any of it. silly babygirl! palpatine was always the big bad (don't worry about the fact that this is thematically nonsense and not foreshadowed in any way), and rey isn't a nobody ("your parents sold you because they loved you"), and this isn't a story about how the force transcends human categories and dynasties (represented by a grey jedi force dyad between a legacy skywalker and a nobody orphan from a backwater planet, fulfilling not only balance between light and dark but also transcending the old to become something new). silly idiot!!! rey's a palpatine by birth and a skywalker by self-adoption and god forbid she create her own identity outside of these names our fans recognize. watch as she stands alone on a sand planet that has no personal significance to her, ending her arc almost exactly as she began. but look!! two suns! neat

i don't even know if fanservice is the right word. at a certain point, it just starts to feel like they're quaking in their boots at the thought of doing anything new. i had my gripes with some of the choices in the acolyte, but at least it was unique. it explored a new era and asked questions that star wars has only ever flirted with. like: what happens to the children who are uprooted from their homes at such a young age, yet can't find their place in the jedi order? how does one survive in a supposedly honorable system that nevertheless relies on the repression of some of humanity's most fundamental emotions? is it possible that an organization dictating exactly how one ought to interact with the very life force of the universe... could perhaps be faulty and shortsighted? what happens when the ways of that order clash with other cultures and worldviews? (spoilers: space colonialism). and that's not even to mention the ideas they play with re: the force itself (vergences! plagueis! force witches!)

i know not everyone loved the show, but a lot of people really did care about it. a lot of people, like me, were excited to see these new questions being raised. but forget it—the disney gods have decreed that it didn't hit some magical threshold of streaming hours or reach a "broad enough" audience in the two months it's been out. but don't worry guys. turn your brains off and tune in for the next spinoff 2 chewy 2 bacca

[impactrueno]

i keep getting amazed by how starkly different betelgeuse and lydia’s dynamic is in the movie versus the cartoon. what do you mean one was based on the other? how did we get “that WAS you stalking me!” from the same source material as “you’re one of a kind, beetlejuice. don’t ever change.”

yeah it happens

it seems like they decided on making a beetlejuice animated series first, and then they tried to figure out how to make it kid friendly. there's this interview that says stephen ouimette's first beetlejuice voices were very close to keaton's in the movie, but that they felt there was something very off about having an "evil creepy guy with a goth girl in the attic" and that was when they decided to soften the character. ouimette did a lighter and funnier voice and that alone was enough for them to feel like he wasn't a threat and the goth girl was safe around him. and i guess things just took off from there as they figured out the characters. it IS a children's cartoon, and being ran by abc at the time they had to keep things cute and wholesome. tim burton was very involved in the creation process (as much as he could while working on batman) so having bj and lydia be friends instead of enemies was pretty much his choice. but again, kids cartoon ran by abc. and that's why we have sugary sweet quotes like the one you said.

seems like even back then tim has always preferred a more amicable dynamic for those two. we already know him, michael, winona, everyone in the cast wants them to be together to some degree thanks to recent interviews. and i think that is why beetlejuice's character was slightly changed in the sequel, from an evil creepy guy to just....a creepy guy with a crush i guess. point is, they don't want him to be The Bad Guy anymore and that's why the sequel is the way it is.

BUT they can't just make him "not evil" and expect it to work, that would make no sense, he still needs to have this creepy and wrong edge to him, and lydia's not gonna just forgive and forget what happened in the first movie. so, combining allllll these elements, we get this brand new dynamic between them: creepy guy in love with the woman he's been stalking for 30 years (pure insanity but not exactly evil) and woman who's like "ugh not this fucking guy again" but still goes to him for help, begrudgingly. she can't quite get rid of him. they're obviously not enemies anymore and they're not friends either. but now it's a bit more believable for them to reach some sort of amicability, eventually.....perhaps in the third one.....we shall see

AND THAT.......is how we got from this concept

to this concept

and finally this concept.

three entirely different dynamics. three three three. rule of thirds, you know i love it. it's a crazy journey but i think it makes more sense when broken down like this.

musical stuff isn't really part of this journey BUT the musical did help soften people's perception of beetlejuice even MORE, so now pretty much everyone can buy into the idea that he can be more than just an "evil creepy guy," to the point where soooo many people were actually dying to see the two team up and be friends in the sequel.

and now the original movie feels like the outlier. oh the IRON-E ok sorry im not using that pun again

[moonydustx]

To belong to you

requests | mastelist Pairing: Trafalgar D. Law x F! Reader Summary: sequel of A not so funny story. In this one, we see Law dealing with a somewhat stubborn reader, while he can barely deal with his feelings. Warnings: fluffy, a little hotter at the end, violence, Law exposing his feelings (this will always be a warning for me). W/C: 3.5K a/c: tried not to take so long to produce, but I ended up getting carried away by the text. Regarding the smutty, I'm thinking about bringing it to a third part, I believe this one was too big. Hope you like.

requested by anon: ok ok now m waiting for a sequel with an overprotective-clingy-lover emo boy Law who keeps reader at his sight❣️ ~ maybe a smutty? idk just give me some more Law

Part 1 | Part 3 (NSFW)

A week, two days and a few hours.

For a week, two days and a few hours Law's sleep became scarcer - which seemed impossible - at the same time, he seemed to have found a new hobby. You.

Since the fateful day he discovered what he had done, even if unconsciously, Law had made it his duty to be your support point. At the same time, even though he dedicated himself to repairing this mistake, nightmares continued to haunt the little sleep he still had. Some days, it was as if he only revisited the afternoon he saw you hurt. In others, it was as if he was fully aware of what he had done.

You didn't complain about all that attention. Of course, the guilt was clear in his eyes and you wished you could lift such a burden from him, but Law's temperament was already known as irreducible, it was almost impossible for you to become the person who would change that.

Sleep had also left you aside that night. Maybe because you were anxious, the next morning you would be emerging on the next island and you would finally see the sunlight again. Maybe your mind kept playing tricks and unlike the nightmares that Law had, you kept having dreams that were closer and closer to him.

What you had left that night was to catch up on your studies. The small stack of books piled up next to your small green notebook while you had been sitting on one of the cafeteria benches for half an hour facing the same calculation.

"I didn't expect to find company at this hour." Law appeared at the cafeteria entrance. The same tired eyes, but the gentle tone in his voice pleased you. "Sleepless?"

"I've been in bed for a long time this week, Captain. What about you, sleepless?"

"I ended up distracted by reading. I just came to get something to eat." he walked past you, heading over to one of the counters. "Did you remember to drink your tea?"

"Perhaps." you just responded and you could hear him grumble in response. It only took a few minutes for the cup to appear in front of him. "Do I really need to take this? It's horrible!"

"It's a medicine, its function is to be horrible, but to end up curing you." surprising you, he sat next to you. Next to it, a plate with some onigiris. You just looked at Law and your horrible cup of tea. "What?"

"How can such a pretty drink, full of flowers, be so horrible?"

"Drink it." in a way, you knew that his impatient tone at that moment wasn't serious at all. "I promise to reward you."

"Saying it like that, I feel like a child." you grumbled, taking a sip of your drink and trying to avoid the disgusted look on your face. Law, unlike you, seemed to enjoy his late dinner. "Next time, please give me poison. I will die happy."

"Good girl, congratulations." he said, in a cynical tone. Even so, the words pointed to another place in your mind. "I bet it wasn't that horrible."

"Said the one who's gorging himself on onigiri." With your complaint, Law just stretched out the piece he had already taken a bite of.

Maybe your intrusive thoughts, maybe it was just the desire to get the horrible taste out of your mouth, but you accepted what he offered.

She's just taking a piece. Law's mind looped through the seconds you bit the food. The lack of sleep must be playing tricks on him, making him imagine things he shouldn't. Are your lips as soft as they seem?

"So. What are you studying?" Law's brain went blank, searching for the first random topic that crossed his mind.

"Blood. In fact, I took a calculation to do and ended up getting lost. In the book it seems so much simpler."

"Let me see." He set the plate aside and approached your notebook.

Gray eyes looked attentively at each written number and you were busy analyzing it. The smell that came from him was the same as the t-shirt you had worn that day, his eyes had clear dark circles beneath them and even though it wasn't perfectly done, the little beard he had seemed to outline his face and seemed to match the dark tone. of the small piece of his tattoo that showed.

"So…" he began, pointing to the notebook. "Here, you're taking the wrong route. To calculate this type of transfusion, first you have to base it on the patient's weight and then use this formula. See."

You were too distracted by him and he was too distracted by the silly calculation you were so lost in. When he turned to ask if you understood, the only thing he found were your eyes watching him. Just a few centimeters away, his eyes danced between yours and your lips, wondering if the action would be hasty. Maybe it wasn't ideal to take the risk.

"Nerd." You muttered, letting out a small laugh.

"Just smarter than you." he replied, pulling away a little. "Take one more."

"Thank you captain!"

The night passed faster than you expected. Accompanied by Law, you spent most of the night redoing some exercises while he helped you, or at least watched you. And even though sleep hit your body, it was hard to close your eyes and sleep after spending so much time with him.

The morning came quickly and as usual on the days you emerged, you and Bepo were standing just staring at the sun on your skin. Some other companions were already beginning to disembark.

"I found you." Law's voice brought them both out of their little sunbath. "You take care of buying food."

"Ay captain!" Bepo reached out his hand, picking up the berries.

"You." He turned around, looking at you seriously. "No running, no heavy lifting, no long walks."

"All right, boss." you saluted, just to annoy him and watched him leave, without giving much more explanation.

The afternoon passed quickly in the small village. At least in the commercial part of the village, everything seemed very busy and colorful, as well as having huge taverns that you would definitely go to.

In addition to you and Bepo, the two also dragged Clione along for the task, which wasn't enough. Despite the captain's clear warning, you managed to convince Bepo that it was just an idle worry, which ended with you carrying some bags under your back.

"Need help?" the bear climbed Polar Tang first, reaching out to you.

As soon as you appeared in the Heart Pirates captain's field of vision, you knew you were in trouble. The blue dome enveloped you and soon the weight lifted from your back. Instead, two small flowers appeared on the ground.

"It seems the two of them decided to ignore my warning." Law grumbled as you picked up the two colorful branches that were at your feet.

"My fault, there's no need to fight him." you took the lead, going to where Law was standing. Around him, in addition to the bags he had taken from you, were a few small bouquets of plants and flowers, all as colorful as the city they had just visited. "What are these?"

"Just a few missing ingredients can become medicine, tea, ointments." he bent down, plucking a small yellow flower and handing it to you. "Something tells me your favorite is this one."

"Oh, God no." the image of last night's horrible tea came to mind. you held the flower up to your nose. The sweet smell was delicious, but just remembering the taste made your stomach turn. "It's so beautiful, but so bad." you made to return it, seeing him raise his hand and deny it.

"It is not necessary."

"Thanks." you laughed, pinning the small flower to the zipper of your jumpsuit.

"Captain." two humming voices came towards you. "What do you think about going to a bar today?"

"You can go." he responded to Shachi and Penguim, who were not convinced and joined in a chorus of please. "I'm not in the mood."

"Please, Captain. The town seems nice, I bet the bars are too." you joined the other two, interceding.

You knew that Law wasn't the most sociable person in the world, but if there was something you could boast about, it was your power of persuasion - which you hadn't yet realized only worked on him.

"Okay, okay." he gave up, seeing the three of you cheer up and Bepo shouting happily in the background. "However, no alcohol for you."

"Yet?" you grumbled, but his expression already made the answer clear. Your power of persuasion wouldn't work this time.

You weren't the type to take alcohol seriously enough for it to bother you, just going to a new place would be good enough for you. As soon as night fell, you started getting ready. As much as you wanted to wear something lighter, you didn't know how comfortable you would feel showing the scar on your leg, even though it was already partially healed, it wasn't such a pretty sight. You put on pants and a simple, comfortable blouse and headed towards the bar with Ikkaku.

Law watched you from afar. Unlike most of the women there, you weren't balancing on thin heels or with a face so adorned with colors that made your real expression disappear. You were you.

He saw you sit at one of the tables with the other companions. Everyone with drinks in front of them, except you. He could use some alcohol on him to give him the courage he lacked, but he knew it would be unfair. Ignoring the judgmental looks, he ordered two glasses of juice and took them to the table, looking for a place to sit.

"No vodka?" Ikkaku looked at the cup in front of you and the cup in front of the captain. "This is new."

"I'm banned until further notice." you replied, raising your glass to toast your captain. "At least someone had compassion on me."

"So cute." Ikkaku cheered and you surreptitiously tried to elbow her. "So, I saw people playing in the background. She can play, right captain?"

"As long as she doesn't bet Polar Tang." he replied, a shy smile on his lips. As much as he didn't admit it out loud, something woke up in him when the two of you were in some way related. "I think betting a mink could make some good money." he turned to Bepo, who immediately complained.

"Never!" you stood up, placing yourself next to Ikkaku and picking up your glass. "I'll be right back, I'll take the money from some idiots." you smiled, turning your face towards your captain. A soundless thank you left your lips, as you pointed to the glass in your hands.

Law tried to disguise it, tried to ignore your presence. It was as if your body had some kind of magnet, which made it find you in the midst of so many people who crowded into that bar.

The first time he looked at you, you and Ikkaku were side by side singing something that he couldn't hear from where he was, around you some other people were singing and others were playing cards. He could see some looks that bothered him. Why did they look at you like that? Law could feel the repulsion of those men, even from a distance.

The second time, the two of you seemed to be dealing the cards. A man next to you, one of the same ones who was looking at you, seemed to whisper something in your ear that seemed to have offended you. The expression soon disappeared from your face, returning to a calm expression. At that moment, Law could feel his body tingle and had to suppress the urge to make the man's head roll off his body, even though he had no idea what he had said to you.

The third time, the only thing Law saw was your head being pushed against the table, after that he only saw red and pure hatred in front of him. The other crew members with whom he shared the table only noticed a small playing card slowly fall towards the upholstery.

This time you hadn't stolen in the game but apparently some bastard decided you were hiding some cards. You felt your head against the table and you could hear Ikkaku swear. You could easily get out of there and reach for your dagger hidden in your boot, you could also trip and see the guy hit his own head against the table. You knew you wouldn't need to do anything when you saw a blue dome appear in front of you.

Unlike the many times you had seen him fight, Law didn't use his sword or his devil fruit. His hands reached for the man, twisting his arm and slamming his head against the table, ten times harder than what had been done to yours. The other man, who was restraining Ikkaku, immediately released her.

"What happened?" he asked and you knew the question was directed at you, even though he kept pinning the man against the table.

"They thought we were stealing in the game."

"He said we would pay for what we stole from him with money or anything else we could offer." Ikkaku added, as you stood up and untied your clothes.

"The bastard likes to threaten others." Law muttered and within seconds, the man's head rolled on the table, as he screamed desperately, not understanding what had happened. Looking around, Law reached for a small knife and immediately stuck it to the side of the man's head. "Next time I see you, I won't need to use any power to rip your head off."

Law walked away, his eyes immediately searched for you. You had your back to him, checking to see if your friend had gotten hurt.

"Are you two okay?" he walked closer, searching for any signs of injury on the two of you. At that point in the fight, the entire crew was already gathered alongside.

"It's okay captain, it was just that asshole. The others tried to help us." Ikkaku explained.

"Understood." He tried to calm things down, still thinking about what that stupid guy could have done if, for some moment, you had left his sight.

"For today, that's enough." you sighed, trying to give your best smile, which with all the stress caused, seemed impossible. "I'm going back to Polar Tang. I think today's activities tired me out."

You lied, blatantly. You weren't tired, on the contrary. The whole fight, Law showing up to defend you, that had lit you up. The only question that was going through your head was where Law's anger had come from. It wasn't the first time you ended up fighting with someone in a bar and every time Law would just laugh a little or if things got out of hand, He gave a little fright to anyone who even touched his crew. Today the gray eyes that accompanied you so much appreciate you full of fury.

"I'll join you. You guys, enjoy." Law took out some berries and placed them in Ikkaku's hand. "The next rounds are on me."

Bepo made to accompany you two, but was stopped by his friends. They seemed to see the entire situation clearer than the two of you ever would.

The walk to the submarine was quiet, much quieter than you were used to. Despite the beat, your head didn't hurt besides the fact that you saw Law analyze every inch of you after the argument.

Even after entering Polar Tang, silence prevailed between the two of you, it bothered you a lot more than you tried to show. Taking much smaller steps than Law's, you tried to catch up to him before he locked himself in his room and then you'm will only see him the next morning.

"Hang on!" You tried to follow him and even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he had heard you. "Captain!"

"I don't want to talk about it right now." he replied, stopping in front of his room.

"I am sorry but no." you replied and understanding that perhaps you had a discussion too serious to have there in the middle of the corridor, you just indicated the door behind him. "Let's just talk, just five minutes of your attention, okay?"

He could feel the blood boil in his veins, the words burned in Law's throat. Damn that damn bar, damn all the things that still haunted his mind. He had fallen, and fallen hard.

"I understand." you leaned the door behind you, keeping your arms crossed. "I understand all your concern, I mean, you have been carrying a burden that is not yours."

"No?" he laughed, almost cynically. "I won't apologize for that."

"What about all that at the bar?" you asked, approaching him. "About almost killing a guy over a card game."

"He was hurting you." the words came out of his mouth, bluntly.

You stopped a few centimeters away from him, watching him. You wanted to sound intimidating, you wanted to impose yourself on him, but it was him. It was the serious eyes looking down on you, the posture, the smell that emanated from him. As much as your brain tried to deny it, something in you liked - almost needed - Law to protect you.

"You know I'm not that fragile, right?" You held his arms, looking for even the slightest reaction. "I don't break so easily, if that's what makes you worry about me so much."

Law wished he had more time to plan, he wished he hadn't been as close to you as he was last week. That cat and mouse hunt between the two of you worked for a long time. It worked when he watched someone talk for too long over you and he chose to leave his jealousy aside, it worked when he watched you fight so many times and chose not to intrude, it worked when he saw your curves marked by any other clothes you wore ,except the crew's overalls, and he had to try his best not to look. It worked, sentence passed, something left aside.

"I like you." he began, the words coming out like relief from his lips. "I like you and to be honest, I don't know how to deal with it."

"Why not?"

"We are pirates, I have enemies, people who can use this to target me." he pointed to the space between the two of you. "I don't know if I can handle this, damn, I could barely hold my own against a drunk at the bar. I like you too much to risk you."

Just like the day he had seen you injured, his hands found your face, holding it as if it were the most precious thing Law had ever laid his hands on.

"I have a proposal." your hands found his, caressing them. "Here, in this room, just here it will be Law and me. Without all the worries of a captain, without all the responsibilities of a crew member, without fears. Just you and me, one belonging to the other. No one needs to know."

You wanted to say that maybe it wouldn't work and that maybe the two of you would just come out of this story more broken. You could also say that you would understand if he hated the idea. Before any words found the sound of the room, your lips were stolen by his.

None of Law's thoughts matched what he was feeling. Your lips giving way so he could taste a little of you. Your hands left his and spread out over the small gap in the open shirt he wore. Every inch of your body still seemed small for him to explore, his hands went down to your waist, almost merging his body with yours. He could stay there, in that room trapped with you for days. Damn the life of a captain, damn all the rationality he valued so much, you were more than enough.

"So…" you moved a few millimeters away from him, looking for just enough space to catch your breath.

One of his hands went up to your chin, one of his fingers running over your swollen and red lips in an almost sinful caress. How long did he wait to be like that?

One of his hands tangled in your hair, gently squeezing it so you could give him space. Law's lips - now warmer than when they first touched you - ran down your neck. You wouldn't take Law for an avid lover, but the way he held your body to his said completely the opposite.

"I accept your proposal." His low voice whispered next to your ear. His mind took him to dark places, but a little rationality still kept him lucid. "But maybe, maybe we should stop for now."

"No, we shouldn't." Serene eyes looked at him, but the malice in your words was clear.

"Yeah, we shouldn't."

[crayons-and-glitter-glue]

I think about Sun and Moon's original versions a LOT, and I don't get why people say they're not expressive!

Or perhaps, I do, and I just wanna ramble. Anyways! Big ol warning for lots of talking, some fursuit gifs and analyzation of body movement.

So, they have flat, immobile faceplates, right? Technically, yes!some argue that this makes them immediately inert and expressionless and opt to enhance their expressions. And this is a-okay! Do what you like!

But as someone who used to be a costumer, and wears a fursuit on occasion,

(Sorry, I love this gif so much)

BUT! When in a mascot costume, fursuit, or any other costume with a mask over one's face, the performer has to learn how to move in order to portray the emotions necessary for character engagement with the audience! Whether it's exaggerated head bobs, using your hands to talk, or making everything a bit of a spectacle, even the way you tilt your FACE can affect how you look.

Even MUPPETS do this with their limited range of expression. And we can easily draw those conclusions of how the boys were programmed to act in canon!

Take Sun's default animation in the daycare, just standing there.

It's very obvious here what he's trying to portray, and who his programmed audience is- little children! When costuming around little kids, you wanna use big gestures, and get on their level because you can seem HUGE AND SCARY to them! You wanna get down towards the ground, make big sweeping cartoon motions, and make sure all your movements are ROUNDED- not jabbing, sharp, or sudden- so that the kid isn't ever surprised, but rather delighted by your performance as a costumer. I'll show you an example by the amazing performer, Temba the Bat! (Made by Toxicoon, I believe.)

Big sweeping motions, slow without being too spooky, and generally friendly motions while swaying the head! Looks kinda similar right?

Another point is, though, these exaggerated motions don't really... turn off when feeling other things. Sun and Moon don't have a customer service mode, and that's WILD to me that their programming requires them to act like this all the time. Exhibit B: Sun's pain in the transformation scene.

He's making such exaggerated motions and movements to INDICATE he is in pain or holding something back. He's gripping his face like something is trying to come out of it, and even dramatically falls backwards to indicate a loss of control in his body. Whether the way the fall looks so cartoonist was intentionally programmed in, I couldn't tell you.

And then... there's Moon.

This is SO cartoon villain sequel, isn't it? The hands tapping delicately on the surface, the exaggerated head tilt, all of it is so wildly exaggerated in such a smooth way to let you know "Ah! I'm in danger! Great!"

And yet... he still is low to the ground. Still in that pose of going after someone SMALL. Performing for someone small. His evilness is almost completely exaggerated and, dare I say, fabricated by his programming. Of course, the virus probably had something to do with it but LIKE! Look at that range of motion!

Idk what the point of all this is, I just wanna say: it's totally understandable to make the boys super duper expressive in the artistic, flat 2d styles i see a lot!

But man I do hope someone draws them biblically accurate while expressing something else because that would be hilarious to see Sun throwing a temper tantrum by banging his fists on the ground and flailing while his face is just

:D

[claymoresword]

We Bleed The Same | Part: 1

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Sequel to 'Where's My Love'.

Wordcount: 4k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, mentions of sexual violence & domestic abuse, breeding kink, blowjob/deep throating, unprotected sex, dubious consent, co-dependency, y/n & cersei are soulmates argue with the wall

Note: This was actually a lot of fun, I already can't wait to put out the second part! Anyway, hope you enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it (smut after asterisks)

You have been on the road for what feels like an eternity, the children are growing restless, and so are you, but King's Landing is still weeks away. Your next destination being Castle Darry, by order of the king.

Robert Baratheon is rather fond of his pit stops, and you have half a mind to strangle him for that.

What is meant to be a few weeks on the road has turned into months of long-winded journey.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat for the hundredth time, leaning back against the cushions.

You are certainly looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed, whenever that might be.

Just as you start to grow somewhat comfortable, the litter jerks to an abrupt halt, forcing you to lean forward.

Ned places a firm arm in front of his girls to prevent them from falling forward the same way you had.

“Why have we stopped?” You ask, exasperated. Subsequently, pulling aside the curtain next to you to look out the window, only to be greeted with darkness.

You hadn't realized it was already nightfall.

As you squint, you only manage to make out an open field– the scenery does look beautiful, but this isn't the castle.

“Maybe the king needed a piss again.” Arya remarks, trying her best to look over your shoulder.

You narrow your gaze at your niece, and her inability to keep her thoughts to herself. Although there is full possibility that the girl was correct.

The king had delayed the possession half a dozen times today to relieve himself.

“No..” Sansa utters. “He's being sick.” She observes, and it is swiftly followed by the sound of Robert dry heaving.

You grimace at the noise, no longer concealing your annoyance.

Robert has stopped the journey half a dozen times to do that as well.

“Perhaps if he didn't drink so much..” You start, although your brother interjects before you can say anything else.

“Be quiet, the lot of you.” Ned scolds, and you have to bite back a retort as you petulantly glance out through the curtains again.

Eventually, the litter resumes movement, and you rest your back once more, allowing your mind to wander.

Cersei is no doubt feeling as miserable as you are, if not more.

Had you been given leave to ride with her, perhaps this journey would not be half as excruciating.

You missed her, you crave to hear her voice, to touch her, kiss her.

If you fail to reach Castle Darry by tonight, you aim to find a way inside the queen's litter. Robert is certain to be too drunk to notice anyway.

The journey continues on for several more hours, the repetitive movement of the carriage begins to lull you, you could only fight it for so long before a deep and dreamless slumber manages to take over.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Y/n.” You stir to Ned's voice, his hand on your shoulder is like a jolt to your system; you sit up abruptly.

As you come to your senses, you notice that the litter has stopped, Arya and Sansa are no longer beside you.

“We're moving into the castle, I need your help carrying in the food crates.” Ned explains, pulling open the curtains next to you.

“What hour is it?” You ask groggily, still trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I don't know.” Ned responds truthfully. “but I reckon we'll see first light soon.” He finishes, yet you fail to move.

“Come on, you've been asleep for hours.” Your brother insists, he grabs ahold of your hand, forcibly hoisting you up.

As he tugs on your arm, you stumble out of the litter, leaning your weight on Ned as you attempt to find your footing.

You shove him away after you do, scowling at your brother, and his very successful attempt at manhandling you.

“When we get back on the road I am riding on horseback. I'm sick of sitting in that damned thing.” You grumble, gesturing to the carriage behind you before smoothing out your cloak and running your fingers through your hair.

“As you wish, but I refuse to listen to you whine about saddle sores.” Ned says, approaching the stack of crates.

“I am a woman grown, I do not whine.” You contend defensively.

Ned does not heed your remark, nodding towards the large crate impatiently, he braces his hands on the underside of it. “Come, help me.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Castle Darry sits atop of a hill in the Riverlands, the climb was steep enough to knock the wind out of you.

By the time you enter through its doors, your chest is heaving. “Seven hells–” You mutter under your breath, although you are quickly distracted by the interior of the palace.

Darry had decently high ceilings, the castle is larger on the inside as it appeared on the outside. Somehow modest and grand all at once.

The stairs, large and winding, are set at the center of the main hall leading up to the bedchambers.

Robert picked a decent place this time around, you'll give him that much.

You stroll past the stairs towards the castle's great hall, observing as Ned approaches the table in the far right, next to a window that overlooks a view of the river.

You spot your nieces and nephews enjoying an early breakfast. Next to them are Cersei's youngest children, Myrcella and Tommen.

Sansa and Myrcella appear caught up in conversation, whilst Arya and Tommen are on their knees, busy feeding Nymeria pieces of charred meat.

Joffrey is nowhere to be seen. This doesn't surprise anyone, in truth. The prince along with his sworn guard often wander about on their own. The boy was always eager to find trouble where he can, that much is evident.

You begin scanning the rest of the hall, you notice the kingsguard along with the queen's men, but no sight of the king or queen themselves.

You can't help the disappointment that settles in your belly, you were hoping to get at least a glimpse of Cersei before heading to bed.

“Where is the queen?” You ask as you take a seat next to Robb and his half-brother, Jon.

You reach for the flagon of spiced wine, pouring it into a cup as you await a response.

Robb merely shrugs as he stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth, and your other nephew decides to opt for a smart answer.

“With the king, I presume?” Jon remarks, insolent and juvenile.

You quickly wipe the smirk off his face by placing a firm smack against the back of his head.

Jon yelps, reaching up to rub the same spot you had just struck him. “What was that for?”

“I meant, which room is she in?” You rephrase, unamused before lifting the rim of your cup to your lips, taking a large drink.

A burst of nutmeg and cinnamon coats your tongue, when accompanied with the warm, bitter taste of wine, it manages to soothe you.

“I saw her enter the one upstairs, at the end of the hall.” Sansa chimes in, making sure to swallow her food first before addressing you.

You turn your attention towards your niece, a look of gratitude paints your features. “Thank you, Sansa.”

“Hopeless, the both of you.” You remark, reaching out to mess up Robb's head of auburn hair.

You relished the way both boys scowled at you as you left the dining area.

-

You trudge up the steep stairs leading to the bedchambers. Glancing at the row of rooms to your left, and then to your right.

You mentally curse yourself for failing to clarify with Sansa exactly which room the queen had taken as her own.

After a moment of deliberating, you decide to take a risk, approaching the room on the far left, one hidden behind a large pillar.

You knock twice before resting your hand on the pommel of your sword.

A beat passes and no one answers, though just as you move to walk away, the door opens, and a golden-haired beauty emerges from the dark room.

Your smile happens involuntarily as you pale greys catch Cersei's emerald gaze. Though the queen doesn't reciprocate, instead she pulls you in for a sudden hug.

After a fleeting moment of confusion, you embrace her in return. Your hand rests on the small of her back, the other gently threads through her golden curls.

As your gaze wanders, it is only then you notice a tear in her robe. The silk material fails to cover the bruising on Cersei's arm; the sight makes you stiffen.

The queen fails to speak, so you decide to break the silence first.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, expecting the answer, but Cersei does not grace you with a verbal reply, merely hugging you tighter.

“Do you want me to stay here tonight?” You whisper instead, your lips brush against the shell of the other woman's ear.

Cersei remains quiet for a while, as though considering your request. She pulls back slightly to look at you, her gaze softens as she traces your features with her thumb.

“You can't, Robert's in my bed.” She finally says, and your brows furrow at the prospect.

That old brute laid his hands on her again.

You open your mouth to protest, but as if expecting it, Cersei places her hand over your mouth, stopping you. “Don't– do not say anything, just kiss me.”

With that, the queen leans in, capturing your mouth with her own. The kiss is desperate, and anguished. Cersei moans softly into your mouth as your tongues make contact.

She tastes like lemon and arbor red, and you are content to feel her like this, for all eternity, although the way your lungs burn for air proves your desire to be an impossible one to uphold.

You break away first, tilting your head to kiss her neck. Cersei gasps at the sensation, her fingers clenched tightly around your hair as your mouth finds the base of her jaw.

“I want–” The queen starts, her voice trembling ever so slightly as your mouth continues to move along her tender flesh.

Eventually, Cersei finds the strength to tug on your hair, guiding your face to her own.

“I want to name you my sworn protector, when we get to King's Landing.” The older woman says suddenly. “I will declare it to the council myself.” Cersei adds, and she simply rakes her fingers through your hair at your lack of response.

“Then you'll have reason to be in my quarters.. in my company.. elsewise people will talk.” She explains, and finally, you nod.

The queen's sworn protector. Like you intended to be all those years ago, before things went wrong between the two of you.

“As you wish.. I am your servant.” You conclude, and for the first time tonight a smile covers Cersei's enchanting features.

Striking, delicate and so damned breathtaking.

“Good.” She says, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

--

The following week at Darry had been at best, quiet and uneventful. You spent most of your days with your brother and his children and nights waiting for everyone to fall asleep just so you could visit the queen.

Although, you did not have the privilege of seeing her last night. After a long day of hunting with Ned and Robert, you don't recall how you got back to the castle, only that you had awoken this morning with a pounding head.

Not exactly fond of hunting, you did so mainly out of courtesy– as to not give the king cause to be upset.

Robert is as unpleasant on a hunt as he is on any other day, if not more.

Naturally, you drank to dull the ache his company caused, as well as pass the time.

In truth, all you wanted to do is spend your days and nights in bed with Cersei. You had managed to steal moments here and there, but nothing enough to satiate your need for her.

All the more reason to look forward to King's Landing. Once you get to the city you'll be allowed to spend time in the queen's bedchambers under the guise of guarding her from harm.

Then, you'll finally be allowed to do whatever you desire with each other without the danger of being seen.

-

Tonight, in a welcomed change of pace, you find yourself in the Godswood with Ser Jory Cassel, dull blades in hand.

He is a capable sparring partner, however predictable he might be.

You remind yourself once more that he is a knight, he fights clean like most of them.

Most knights are predictable.

“I cannot be out here for much longer, M'lady. Lord Eddard has tasked me to watch over his daughters tonight.” Ser Jory says as he resumes his stance, lifting his blade.

You shrug, doing the same.

“I understand, Ser. I only mean to fight you until I grow bored.. which shouldn't take long at all.” You jest, and it manages to hit a nerve, as the knight takes a large swing at you.

You deflect the blow before swiftly maneuvering your body away with one foot, causing the knight to stumble forward.

Ser Jory recovers quickly, this time you strike first, and your dull blades kiss with a large clash.

You take the opportunity to get out of the position by flicking your wrist, as a result your sword is released from the blade lock. You twist the blade in your hand once before pointing it at the knight's neck.

The quickest win yet.

Ser Jory sighs, lifting his arms in surrender. “I yield.”

You lower your blade with a grin. Though the man yields quickly, far too easily.

Suddenly, you find yourself hoping the knight isn't letting you win on purpose, or perhaps he is just eager to get inside and resume his post.

Either way, you are not yet satisfied.

As you are just about to request for another round, voices in the distance steal your attention.

You glance over to see men from the kingsguard standing under the Weirwood, gossiping– albeit not very discreetly.

“They were arguing again, the king and queen..”

Ser Jory has since set aside his sparring blade. He walks over to a wooden bench in the corner of the Godswood to fetch his sword belt, fastening it onto his person.

“See you inside, m'lady.” Jory announces as he rushes back into the castle. Although you hardly hear him at all as you inch closer to the pair of knights standing under the Weirwood tree.

You remain partially hidden by the darkness as you listen to their conversation whilst pretending to focus your attention elsewhere.

“I heard she broke his nose.” The kingsguard says.

“He broke hers more like. That's why she sent her handmaids to fetch her a cold compress.” The other knight chimes in, and his words send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn away, thoughtlessly discarding the practice blade you were holding before grabbing your own sword.

You slip past the main doors of the castle before sprinting up the stairs. You pushed past the pair of guards at the foot of it as they took a moment too long to step aside.

As you reach Cersei's bedchambers you notice that her door is left ajar. You push it open, stepping inside in a panic frenzy, only to nearly trip over Robert's large frame.

The king lays motionless by the door, on a beautifully crafted Myrish carpet. His large belly spilling out of his tunic.

A compelling sight.

You look up to find Cersei standing by the window, a goblet of wine in hand. She smiles as your eyes meet.

Her hair is unkempt, her robe falling off one shoulder, but there is no blood anywhere on her, in fact she appears entirely unharmed.

You turn to shut the door, wincing as it accidentally slams into place. Yet, Robert remains on the floor, unfazed.

“Is he dead?” You quip, circling the king's motionless body and it earns a bitter chuckle from Cersei.

“No, just passed out from drinking too much, I'm afraid.” The queen responds, her own voice slurred.

The queen is drunk.

“Pity.” You remark, as a large noise erupts from the king. The boisterous and grating snore continues every time he breathes.

You tilt your head at the sight of him, Robert Baratheon is a beast, and the worst kind.

You sigh at the thought before turning around, only to find Cersei standing right behind you.

She reaches up instinctively, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck.

“Did he hurt you?” You ask softly, your own hands finding her waist.

Your jaw tenses as Cersei nodded in response.

A blind rage overcomes you then, the sound of Robert snoring agitates you beyond belief, fueling your resentment.

“I could kill him.” You mutter through gritted teeth, and Cersei merely re-focuses her gaze on you, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“You are so adorable.” She whispers, almost mockingly, her lips then meet your neck.

The feeling of her kisses upon your skin slowly causes your anger to dissipate, you find yourself conflicted.

“Cersei–” You attempt, but the queen's mouth against the shell of your ear causes your words to die in your throat.

**

“Take me to bed..” She says, the scent of lavender in her hair invades your senses, and you find it nearly impossible to think. You are urged to do as she asks, but logic and reason forces you to consider otherwise.

“What?” You ask, and you feel Cersei's teeth graze your ear, she bites your earlobe before pulling back slightly to look at you.

“I want you to fuck me– you do it so well.” She pleads, in a tone that nearly makes your knees buckle.

Cersei runs her fingers through your hair, uninterested in hearing you protest any further.

She escapes your embrace, though not letting go of your hand as she steps over Robert.

The king continues to snore loudly, you are beginning to think the man will not wake for anything at all. He might as well be dead.

“Come.” Cersei coaxes sweetly, tugging on your arm.

You let her guide you without a moment's thought, stepping over the king to follow the queen to her bed.

Cersei lets go of your hand to unlace her robe, she shrugs it off, allowing it to fall on the floor, leaving her as naked as her nameday.

The queen watches you disapprovingly as you stand frozen in place. You observed the way her hips swayed languidly as she approached you.

She reaches south to unfasten your sword belt, gripping your blade by its scabbard before placing it on the floor.

“You are not naked enough.” Cersei points out, with a slight pout. The way she continues to slur her words causes your heart to constrict in your chest.

Even like this, she is breathtaking.

Beautiful.. and so utterly twisted.

You are so in love with her.

Cersei sets her bottom lip in between her teeth with palpable excitement as you obliged her. Unclasping your dark grey doublet, tossing it aside before lifting your tunic over your head.

The queen decides to assist you with your bottom half. Brazenly palming your cock through your breeches, her shoulder slumps in disappointment, unsatisfied with the current flaccid state of your shaft.

“What's wrong?” Cersei asks, her hands move up your body to cup your breast before resting on the nape of your neck once more.

You are unsure of how to respond, you remain overtly aware of the fact that Cersei's husband remained asleep only a few feet away.

You turn to glance at the man but the queen is quick to force your head in place. “Don't look at him.” She scolds before leaning in to capture your lips with her own for a long kiss.

As you aim to slip your tongue inside of her mouth, Cersei pulls away with a demand. “Take off your breeches, come here.”

You observed as Cersei climbed onto the bed, settling on her knees at the edge of it.

The sight admittedly manages to excite you; you feel your cock begin to stir.

You remove your breeches in haste, ridding them heedlessly as you approach the golden haired woman.

Now you stand in front of the bed and Cersei remains in a kneeling position on the edge as she grips the base of your semi-erect shaft. Bringing it up to her lips, she kisses the tip, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck–” You groan aloud as Cersei finally takes you into her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she begins to suck.

You let out an unsteady breath, reaching down to grip a fistful of her hair, wary of not grabbing too tightly as you allowed Cersei to set her own pace.

The queen continues bobbing her head, taking your cock inside of her mouth in its entirety.

You feel her breathe out through her nose as she takes you in even deeper, pulling another groan from you as the tip of your shaft meets her throat.

You gasp as Cersei keeps going, you notice as tears begin to well up in her eyes before they flutter shut as she takes you further in.

The feeling of her swallowing around your cock makes you see stars, and it nearly causes you to finish right then and there.

“Gods above, Cersei–” You curse incoherently.

The queen chokes on your girth before leaning back to let your cock lay flat against her tongue once more.

She continues to suck dutifully, and you grunt, this time gripping her hair harshly to pull her head back.

You needed to take her, now.

“Enough, come here.” You state, and Cersei lets your cock fall out of her mouth.

She makes a noise of surprise as you harshly met her lips. Cersei kisses you passionately in return, pulling you down on top of her.

As the queen parted her legs for you, you don't give her much warning before reaching in between both of your bodies.

You line the tip of your shaft up to her entrance, and with one swift thrust, you enter her completely, filling Cersei to the hilt.

The older woman lets out a guttural noise at the sensation, followed shortly after by a whimper.

Cersei's nails dig into your back as her entire body trembles uncontrollably.

You turn to check if the king had perhaps awoken at the sound, but again, Cersei does not give you the chance, pulling you in for another kiss.

You decide not to heed caution any longer, you begin moving your hips, steadily increasing the pace.

If the king wakes, you will kill him.

Cersei mewls into your mouth as your cock hits the perfect spot within her, again and again.

Soon, you brace your hands against the bedding on either side of her head as you begin to rut into her wildly.

Cersei lets out a series of broken gasps and moans, followed by a louder whine when she suddenly reaches her peak around your cock.

You observed as the queen writhed underneath you with every thrust afterwards, she wraps her arms around your back weakly, pulling you in even closer.

You steal at the opportunity to take Cersei’s breasts into your mouth. Licking and sucking at them greedily.

She gasps at the feeling, and you soon earn another whine as you maintain your slow thrusts.

“Please..” The queen pleads, and the sound of her desperation alone makes you drunk.

“Fill me with your seed,” Cersei utters against your ear, her legs wrapped around your waist as though not allowing you the opportunity to disobey her.

“I want to feel it quicken inside me. I want to bear your children, your heirs. Only yours.” She continues, deliberately clenching her walls around your girth.

That does it.

Your release comes just as sudden, it is violent and unyielding.

Before you can even think of pulling out, your seed spills out in ropes, thick and warm, filling Cersei's womb, just as she wanted.

[cuubism]

Besieged

E | 5k

a sequel to Trade Secrets - aka knight Hob and slutty prince Dream

--

Hob has sat in besieged war camps for days waiting for the enemy to strike. He has knelt in forests, unmoving, muscles cramping, waiting hours for a chance to attack. He has laid in a medical cot for weeks while a wound slowly heals.

And yet the greatest test of patience in Hob’s entire life is this treaty negotiation. Not because the discussion is mind-numbingly dull, though it is. Hob would always rather be out killing something, but he can cope. And not because the foreign dignitaries are only barely respectable, casting veiled jibes their way every other sentence. Hob talks too much, but he can hold his tongue when he has to.

No, this is testing Hob’s patience because he’s here as Morpheus’s personal bodyguard, and Morpheus is currently draped over the arm of the foreign king, body pressed close, lips close to his jaw as he speaks directly in his ear.

He never behaves like this when he’s in his own palace. Among his own people he’s stoic and reserved, almost unknowable. And he had been very insistent that his stories about seducing foreign dignitaries had been just that: stories, that his words alone were sufficient to achieve his aims.

Which means he’s doing this just to get under Hob’s skin.

Hob shifts where he stands, back against the wall, surveying the room. He’s supposed to be concentrating on security, but he feels hot, itchy, aggravated. Jealous, he whispers to himself. Morpheus isn’t his to keep. But oh if Hob doesn’t want to slam that foreign king against a wall.

And then push Morpheus up against one for very different reasons.

Morpheus meets his eyes from across the table. His gaze is hot. Challenging. Then he looks away and says, “I must speak with the king in private for a moment.”

Hob takes a step forward, a protest on his tongue. Whatever game he’s playing aside, Morpheus can’t just go off with someone without a guard. Hob’s supposed to ensure his safety.

But Morpheus just flashes another glance at him. His gaze promises terrible things. Wonderful things. And he disappears into a side room, his starry cloak swishing behind him.

The king follows him like a sex-drunk fool. Hob knows the feeling. Perhaps it’s not Morpheus in danger if they go off alone.

Hob waits, chest tight. Jealous. Irritable. Worried. Fucking horny. Morpheus absolutely knows what he’s doing here. I’ll show you, you little slut, Hob thinks, then is immediately horrified by the thought. It’s not untrue, though. Hob’s feelings about Morpheus are… varied, but one of them is definitely the aggressive need to make Morpheus his. Even if he has no right to it.

He’d been able to keep those thoughts in the back of his head, once. But that was before Morpheus had crept into his tent in the middle of the night and told Hob to fuck him like a whore.

It isn’t overly long before Morpheus and the king emerge from their private conference. The king looks whiplashed. Morpheus looks quite pleased with himself indeed. His hair is mussed. His smirking lips are reddened. Looking at him makes Hob feel like he’s swallowed thorns.

“I believe we’ve come to an agreement,” says Morpheus, gaze flickering briefly over to Hob and going dark at whatever he sees on Hob’s face. “Let us sign the treaty. We need not tarry longer.”

Hob doesn’t pay a shred of attention as they review the document and sign it. His grip is flexing on the hilt of his sword, sheathed at his hip, for want of anything better to do with his hands. He forces himself not to fidget. He watches Morpheus, the haughty dignity of him, the close cut of his elegant robes. Hob wants to venerate him like a piece of the heavens. Hob wants to ruin him.

By the time they make their way back to their guest quarters in the palace, he feels like he’s buzzing. Walking at his side with utter nonchalance, Morpheus says, “I do believe that was—”

Hob doesn’t let him finish. He grabs Morpheus’s arm and pulls him through the door to their rooms, then pushes him up against it, fisting a hand in the collar of his robes.

“You,” he growls, and watches Morpheus’s gaze darken, his throat bob as he swallows, “little whore. Is that how you conduct your diplomacy? Sucking off anyone you need a yes from?”

“Did I not tell you those were only stories, my knight?” says Morpheus, each word carefully spoken, but starting to waver.

Instead of answering, Hob kisses him hard.

Morpheus’s head knocks against the door and he moans. Hob bites his lower lip, then swipes his tongue into Morpheus’s mouth. He has no idea if Morpheus actually kissed that foreign dignitary or if it was all another one of his stories, but either way he chases away the taste. Kisses him deep, not letting him breathe. Makes Morpheus’s mouth his.

When he pulls back, Morpheus sucks in a huge breath. Chases his mouth, but Hob presses him back against the door with a hand around his throat, hard enough that Morpheus will be able to feel it when he swallows.

“Did you kneel for him?” Hob asks. He feels quiet now. Alight in the fire of Morpheus’s presence. His prince is so beautiful. His lips are even redder now, and he looks at Hob like Hob could do anything to him and he would like it.

And Hob can never forget that he’s hardly had anything done to him at all.

“I am a prince,” says Morpheus. “I don’t kneel.”

“You want to, though,” Hob murmurs. He frames Morpheus’s face in his hands, thumbs hooked under his jaw. Keeps him still. Tips his head back. Morpheus is breathing hard. His hands find Hob’s belt and he tucks his fingers in, holding on.

Hob kisses his sharp jaw, nips at the skin. “Have you fantasized about it, my prince? The way you fantasized about getting fucked?”

“Yes,” breathes Morpheus. “I—” he breaks off as Hob slips a hand inside his robes to cup him through his— oh. He’s not even wearing anything under those robes.

“You pretty little whore,” Hob breathes, and Morpheus whines. “Go on. Talk.”

“I—” It’s so unusual for Morpheus to struggle with his words. Hob loves it. He takes Morpheus’s hard cock in his grip and tugs him off, slow, teasing. “I never. Could. With anyone. But I thought of you. When I pleasured myself. I—” he shivers— “even before you rescued me. I would see you at court and I wanted.”

“And you always get what you want, don’t you?”

“Not this,” says Morpheus. “You hold the fulfillment of my desires in your hands, Hob.”

“Sure fucking do,” says Hob, and twists his grip around Morpheus so he shudders and moans. “Did you think about kneeling for me?”

He manages to say it casually but he’s so hard in his breeches. Morpheus meets his eyes, and while usually his looks are clever, conniving, now he looks almost innocent. Hob has the upper hand here, and the greater experience. It’s so heady. Fuck him but the thought of being Morpheus’s first still makes Hob feel possessed.

“Yes,” says Morpheus, rutting into Hob’s grip. He braces himself with a hand on Hob’s shoulder for balance and Hob lets him.

“Did you think about how it would feel, choking on my cock? Did you want to be used, darling?”

Morpheus’s pretty face is flushed. His eyes fall shut, lashes fluttering. “Yes. Yes. I wanted to know how it tasted. I do not kneel. I wanted you to make me.”

Sweet Mother Mary. “I think that’s what you deserve after that display tonight.”

Morpheus is shivering against him, still thrusting into his grip. He’s close to coming, Hob can tell. And that’s why he pulls his hand back.

Morpheus collapses against him with a violent whine. “Hob.”

Hob looks down at him, eyebrow raised. “Did you want something?”

Morpheus glares up at him. Hob just smiles sweetly. It’s so fun to rile him up. He steps backward, further in the room, and Morpheus follows as if tied to him. And isn’t that a thought.

“Do you need someone to put you in your place, Morpheus?” Hob asks. No title attached to his name.

Morpheus’s breath catches. “What is my place, then?”

Hob takes him by the shoulders and pushes. Morpheus falls to his knees, breath gushing out of his lungs. He looks up at Hob, eyes hooded, lips parted. Fucking hell. He is a vision.

Hob drags a hand through his hair, pulling his head back. Morpheus goes easily, neck craning. God, he’s desperate for it. Poor thing, closed up in his palace. “You were made for this, weren’t you? You’ve just been waiting for someone to make you kneel.”

“For you,” says Morpheus, breathless. That innocent look again on his face. Waiting for Hob’s direction. Christ, he’s never done this for anyone. More privilege to Hob. He’s done nothing to deserve it, but that’ll hardly stop him from seizing it.

Hob caresses his cheek, swipes his thumb over his bottom lip, over his tongue. “You’re so beautiful, you know?”

“It’s been said,” says Morpheus. Hob chucks him on the cheek. Cheeky little thing.

“Can’t believe no one’s done anything about it,” Hob muses, just to watch Morpheus’s eyes dilate. “The way you walk around the palace in your flimsy robes. How’d they stop themselves?”

“Fear, I expect,” says Morpheus. “Are you not afraid of the consequences of defiling your prince, ser knight?”

“It’s worth the punishment to have you,” says Hob. Is it ever. To have Morpheus on his knees, looking up at him like that? It’d be worth anything.

“Have me then, and don’t tarry,” Morpheus challenges.

Hob seizes his hair again, yanking a gasp from him. With his other hand he undoes his belt, lets it fall to the floor, sword dropping without care, then unties the front of his breeches and takes his hard cock in his hand. Morpheus swallows visibly upon seeing it, going lax in Hob’s grip.

Hob doesn’t say anything else, just gives his cock a few strokes, then nudges the tip past Morpheus’s lips. Morpheus obediently opens his mouth, and Hob draws him forward by his hair, feeding it to him. He struggles to keep steady as the heat of Morpheus’s mouth envelopes him, but he manages.

“Good boy,” he praises, as Morpheus laves at him with the flat of his tongue. Morpheus moans, and Hob pulls him off long enough for him to take a breath, then pushes in again.

This time he goes deep enough that he bumps against the back of Morpheus’s throat, and Morpheus chokes, but doesn’t pull away. He tries to relax his throat, wanting to take all of it, and then Hob himself nearly chokes. “Christ, Morpheus,” he sighs, “you feel incredible.”

Morpheus hums, a pleased, heady sound, bobbing his head on Hob’s cock, pressing the flat of his tongue to the shaft. He’s taking it so well, so hungry for it even in his inexperience. Hob should probably go easy on him. He doesn’t want to go easy on him.

“Still can't believe you've never done this before,” he says. It’s painfully arousing to think of. And Morpheus may not actually know what exactly to do with his mouth, but it’s more than made up for by the fact that he��s letting Hob use him, letting Hob teach him.

“That’s alright,” Hob continues. “You’re so gorgeous like this. I’ll show you how to use that lovely mouth.” He directs Morpheus with a hand in his hair, presses his nose to his pelvis, bids him to close his lips, bob his head, swirl his tongue—like that.

He’s perfect, even in his imperfections. Hob could have him like this forever—but he has other ideas too.

He indulges himself for some time, swimming in the heat of his own arousal, but before Morpheus’s blessed mouth can pull him over the edge, Hob carefully pulls him off. Morpheus looks up at him, a line of spit trailing from his lower lip to the tip of Hob’s cock. He looks hazy and pleased, his eyes half-lidded, hair sticking up from the drag of Hob’s fingers. Morpheus is so serious and put together for outsiders that it’s a blessing to get to see him like this. Unraveled. Losing himself in something he wants, rather than stuck only in something he must do. And for Hob to be that thing he wants is something indeed.

“Come, sweet thing,” Hob says, drawing him to his feet with a careful hand. “You’ve been so, so good. My good boy.”

Morpheus whines, following him on unsteady legs. Hob helps him shuck off his shoes and lays him down on the bed, finally steps out of his own boots and strips off his tunic and shirt so he’s only in his breeches, and follows him, bracketing Morpheus with his body. Morpheus reaches for him, tangles his hands in his hair, and Hob thinks that he must not get much softness like this, if any. Always he is the icy and untouchable prince.

Hob draws open his robes, finally gets a proper look at Morpheus’s body. He’s as beautiful as last time, as beautiful as Hob has remembered and imagined since then. Unmarred, un-used, and waiting for him.

“Do you want to be mine, darling?” Hob asks. Being with Morpheus again has made him bolder. He wants Morpheus for himself. To hold him close. To keep him safe. To be his. Whatever that looks like, when Morpheus is his prince, and Hob is his knight.

“Yes,” Morpheus breathes, shivering as Hob runs his hands up and down his thighs, over his hips. “Yes. I will make you my knight. Mine. I want you with me, I do not care if it is proper.”

He’s breathing hard, worked up, hard and straining. He’s beautiful, Hob wants to give him everything.

“Good,” he says, and kisses Morpheus’s belly. Then his hip, then the crease of his thigh, then the tip of his cock.

Morpheus whines, arching against the sheets. “I want. I want you to fuck me again.”

“In good time.”

“Please,” Morpheus gasps. “Please. I have wanted, feverishly. I tried to replicate it. With toys. But it was not the same. See what you have reduced me to? Begging?”

“You thought of me?” The thought is thrilling. He wishes he could have seen it, watched Morpheus opening himself up, dreaming of Hob’s cock filling him.

“Every night.”

Heady. Hob drags a fingertip between Morpheus’s cheeks. Teasing. “Don’t have to beg. You could have come to me any time.”

“Desperate,” Morpheus groans. “You will think less of me.”

“Never. I just want you. Always.” There’s a problem, though. “I don’t have any oil or anything with me.”

“I do,” says Morpheus. “You will find it among my things.”

Hob laughs, startled and fond. “Came prepared?”

“Came hopeful.”

Hob rolls off the bed and finds the mentioned bottle of oil after digging around in Morpheus’s trunk. His things are terribly disorganized for a prince, which Hob finds unexpectedly charming. He brings it back, finds Morpheus watching him, eyes heavy, gorgeous body sprawled like an offering on the bed.

Hob climbs on top of him, kisses him, gripping his hair. “I want to see your face this time.”

“Yes,” Morpheus breathes. His hands trail over Hob’s face, the scruffy edges of his beard. “My Hob.”

“I told you last time that if I’d known it was your first time I’d have made sure it was right, didn’t I?” Hob says, and waits until Morpheus nods. “Well, that’s what I’m going to do now.”

“Do not be gentle with me,” Morpheus orders.

Hob kisses him, just once, on the lips, and is indeed gentle about it. “It can be rough and right,” he says.

With that he pushes one of the lavish bed’s many pillows under Morpheus’s hips, bends one of his legs up so it’s hooked over Hob’s shoulder, holding him open. Morpheus watches with wide eyes, breath coming quick, his heart pattering when Hob places his hand along his throat to feel his pulse. Everything is still new to him. So many missing pieces to fill in.

Hob dips his fingers in the oil and starts rubbing them over Morpheus’s hole and the soft skin behind his balls. He circles Morpheus’s entrance with a fingertip, and then, caught by Morpheus’s rapt expression and held breath, pushes slowly in.

Morpheus lets out a rough breath, body tensing and then giving to Hob. Hob works him, in and out, and Morpheus shivers and squirms, but can only move so far when Hob is holding him down with Morpheus’s leg over his shoulder. Morpheus had wanted rough, so Hob doesn’t wait long before pushing in a second finger, which has Morpheus crying out and tensing. Hob soothes him, kissing his jaw, his throat, his sternum, murmurs, “I know you can do it. I know you can take me,” until Morpheus subsides again.

“Your hands,” he whispers. “It— oh! Is so much better than when I do it.”

“That’s the idea,” Hob says. “Going to take care of you, darling.”

Morpheus whines, nodding. “Please.”

“Don’t think of anything else,” Hob says as he works a third finger into him—God he’s tight but so wanting—“I know you’ve always got so much on your mind. Just let it all go. Think about me.”

“I am. Always,” Morpheus pants, back arching. “Always. Thinking of you.”

Every time Morpheus says he’s thinking of him goes straight to Hob’s head, but it’s easier to be assured of it when Morpheus is looking at him like that, when Hob is touching him so deeply.

“Good. Think of me. Look at me.” He withdraws his fingers, fits himself properly between Morpheus’s legs and leans down over him, catching his gaze. “Look at me.”

Morpheus meets his eyes, chest rising in quick, startled breaths. Being able to rile him up so much makes Hob feel undone, he wants Morpheus so badly, and he wants Morpheus to feel good so badly. Wants to be responsible for it. Wants to take care of him.

Hob holds his gaze as he pushes in, fits himself in Morpheus’s body. The tight heat makes him gasp. Fuck, Morpheus feels even better than last time.

“It feels much more intense this time,” Morpheus breathes, echoing his thoughts. His body tenses as he gets used to the space Hob is making inside him. Gradually he relaxes, sinking back onto the bed, wrapping his fingers around the back of Hob’s neck, tangling in his hair.

“No stories this time,” Hob says. “Only you.”

“You enjoyed the story,” Morpheus points out.

“Aye. But I like you without it, too.” The tales Morpheus tells are very compelling, he might have been born to be a storyteller as much as he was a prince, but Hob likes the clever, sweet Morpheus underneath all the tales just as much. More, even.

“I like you,” he continues, starting to move in him, slow, dragging out each thrust in a way he hadn’t when they’d fucked under the premise of Morpheus’s story, “as my prince. As the one I’ve sworn myself to. The one I’d do anything for. The clever, strong, mad creature that you are.”

Morpheus whimpers. “Hob. Please.”

Hob kisses his neck. “I like you when you beg for me, too. And when you decide what you want, and then make sure you get it.”

“Why should I beg when I know you will give me whatever I want either way?” Morpheus asks, breathless.

Hob smiles against his skin. “Because I want you to.” The words make Morpheus whine, and Hob presses down on his body, bending his leg further back. “And you want to do what I want, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Morpheus’s fingers scrabble for grip on his shoulders. “Yes, Hob, please, please.”

“Good boy.”

The sound Morpheus makes when he says that goes straight to Hob’s gut. God, he’s never wanted someone as much as he wants Morpheus, it’s like a hook in every part of his flesh, it’s like the religious fervor that Hob never got from church. He wants, and he can’t believe he’s allowed to have.

Hob could kneel at his feet. Has, in fact. But he so loves when Morpheus is desperate, and that he can let go of the careful trappings of princedom when it’s just them, just in this moment.

“You could command me to do anything you wanted, you know,” he says. “But I’d rather you beg.”

“Please,” Morpheus says immediately, and it’s the most heady thing Hob’s ever heard. “Please, Hob. Please fuck me.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely.”

He takes Morpheus's hands and presses them into the bed, holding him down, and plies his whole weight to snap his hips into him. Morpheus wails, grip flexing desperately under Hob’s hands.

“Anyone passing in the hall will hear you,” Hob says into his ear, grinning, as he does it again, finding a brutal pace and keeping it up as Morpheus squirms and cries.

“Good,” Morpheus pants, “good. Let them know— what you do to me.”

“Oh, they’ll know.” He nips along Morpheus’s throat, soothes the skin with his tongue. “They’ll see you all disheveled. My marks on you. Such a stoic, distant prince. No one could imagine that this is what you get up to, that you want to be taken, that you beg for my cock.”

“You will ruin my reputation,” Morpheus gasps, not sounding upset about it at all.

“I think it’d only make them more in awe of you,” Hob says, “though I wouldn’t mind a bit of jealousy.” No, he wouldn’t mind at all the thought of all who see them together wanting Morpheus, and not being able to have him. Knowing that only Hob is allowed to.

He pins Morpheus down harder and fucks him with all the passion and possession inherent in that thought. Morpheus's cries turn into punched out gasps of pleasure, each sound catching roughly in his throat as Hob rocks him. It's the sweetest sound Hob's ever heard, and it's all he can do not to come too quickly when what he wants is to drag it out, give Morpheus as much pleasure as he's able to.

But it's not long before Morpheus pants, "Hob, I'm-- I'm-- oh!" And he comes with a startled cry as if his pleasure was yanked out of him. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, but Hob is delighted to have made him lose control.

“Aw, darling, it was all too much, wasn’t it? You’re still new at it, it’s alright.” He sucks a mark into Morpheus’s throat, slowing momentarily, and Morpheus moans. “You’re still learning, aren’t you, my prince?”

“Hob.” Morpheus hooks his leg tight around Hob’s back, thighs trembling. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to.” He lets go of Morpheus’s hands—Morpheus immediately clutches at the back of Hob’s neck, digging his fingers in his hair—and starts moving again, relishing in the heat of Morpheus’s body, how lax he is under Hob, going easily with his movement, the quiet whines he makes each time Hob presses in particularly deep. His own arousal builds within him, heat pooling in his groin and thighs, and he chases it in Morpheus’s body, chases it—

He comes with a groan, clutching Morpheus to him, losing himself temporarily in the feeling of it. If only, he thinks, they were like this all the time, the two of them, if only he was always holding Morpheus close in bed, bringing pleasure to him. It can’t be like that, not really, not with Morpheus being a prince—but he can imagine it.

Morpheus whimpers when he pulls out, but Hob kisses him to ease the discomfort of it. And just for the pleasure of doing it. Morpheus in the afterglow kisses lax and soft, so sweet against Hob’s body. No clever storyteller left, this time.

When they separate, Morpheus looks dazed, red mouth parted, fingers twined gently in Hob’s hair. He gazes at Hob for a long moment, and Hob thinks he might be about to say something—but whatever it might have been, he decides against it, instead just petting Hob’s temple.

Hob kisses him once more for good measure, then removes himself to fetch a spare cloth from Morpheus’s things and clean off his belly, after which Morpheus pulls him back to bed with demanding fingers. Hob stays frozen, stunned, as Morpheus pushes himself in against his body, curling in close.

“I’m feeling unsafe in this foreign castle,” he says, not sounding particularly afraid as far as Hob can tell. “Perhaps you will have to guard me from closer quarters tonight.”

Hob laughs incredulously, but obligingly pulls him close. “Of course, love. This country is very hostile, I’m sure. They might even come back to get you to bribe them with more sexual favors.”

Morpheus squeaks indignantly, digging a finger into Hob’s side. But he quickly subsides, pressing his lips indulgently into Hob’s skin.

Hob holds him like that for a time, pressing him close and helping him come back into his body, stroking a firm hand up and down his back. It feels like more of a privilege to hold Morpheus like this than it even was to fuck him. A privilege for Morpheus to want him to stay.

When the room has gone dark, the fireplace burned low in need of tending, he finally asks, “What did you really do, with that king? You made it look like you sucked him off.”

Morpheus chuckles. It’s an endearingly wicked sound. “I threatened him. Made it quite clear what I would do to him if he defied me. Or perhaps…” he pulls himself from his repose, leaning far enough away to look at Hob, eyes dark, dragging a finger along Hob’s lower lip, “what I would have done to him. What my loyal knight might do to him, as soon as I gave him leave.”

“Oh, yeah?” There is something… thrilling, about being Morpheus’s weapon, an extension of the darkest shades of his will.

“Would you do that for me, my Hob?” Morpheus asks, eyes heavy-lidded. “Ply your sword in my name?”

“Already do.” Hob kisses his cheek, mouths over the skin, drags a hand up and down over his bare hip.

“Did you really think I used my mouth on him?” Morpheus asks. “Did you think I would not save it for you?”

Hob swallows hard, but says, “I can never know for sure what you’re thinking.”

“Did it make you jealous, then?” says Morpheus. “Did it… burn in you, to think I would let myself be used by another when I should be yours?”

Oh, it did. Hob leans over him, presses him down to the mattress, murmurs against his lips, “I wanted to cut his throat.”

Morpheus’s breath catches. “I would not have stopped you.”

“Even if it started a war?”

“I want to see you spill blood for me.” He takes one of Hob’s hands, sucks two of Hob’s fingers into his mouth. Then, still with his lips touching Hob’s skin, says, “Next time you bloody yourself at war, come back to my chambers first. I want to see it.”

Hob’s whole body goes still in anticipation at the thought, imagining bringing himself to Morpheus’s fine bedchambers while still dripping blood and grime, sword hanging loose in his grip, exhaustion tugging him down. Morpheus, his lord, his prince, welcoming him in with dark eyes and wanting hands, bloodying his fine fingers as he undoes the buckles on Hob’s armor, undresses him, before indulging him in a much needed bath— or perhaps he would not even want to wait, would drag Hob to his mouth and let Hob coat him in all that he had wrought in his name—

“Perhaps you should come to mine,” he says, voice rough with want. “Perhaps your favorite knight might be in want of some particular comfort, hm?”

Morpheus will do it, too, if Hob dares him. He has before, just for his own satisfaction.

Indeed, Morpheus’s lips curl up in a smirk. “Be careful what you wish for, Hob.”

He slides on top of Hob, settling in his lap, but instead of starting something up again he just lays back down with his head tucked into Hob’s shoulder, now with all of his weight resting on Hob’s body. Hob curls his arms around him.

“Hob?” Morpheus murmurs, at length.

“Yeah, darling?”

“When you go to war… do be careful.”

Careful isn’t really Hob’s fighting style. But something in him stills at Morpheus’s tremulous words. The care in them, and the fear.

“Be careful where you send me,” he says in return. Morpheus may not be king of their realm, but his decisions do have weight. And Hob is sworn to his word.

Morpheus is silent for a long moment, truly thinking about it. He traces his fingertips up the length of Hob’s sword arm, over his shoulder, landing on the side of his neck, beside where his own face rests.

“I will use you well, if you will come back to me,” he finally says.

Hob tangles his fingers in his hair, pets his scalp. He can’t really make that promise, not if he’s to also fill his role as Morpheus’s sword and shield. And Morpheus has never been on a battlefield, doesn’t understand the chaos of it, how even with all his skill and determination, Hob can’t make things turn out right.

But if there’s any true incentive to try, it’s Morpheus resting in his arms.

“I will, love,” he promises. “I’ll come back to you.”

[hazbinshusk]

husk x fem!reader. a sequel to the fic in which you catch husk humping your pillow. the bartender, ashamed of himself, has been avoiding you now for days - at least as best he can while stuck behind the bar. so, what else can you do but take to sitcom logic in order to level the playing field between the two of you? featuring: masturbation (afab!reader), exhibitionism, and a gob-smacked (and very aroused) husk. 1.4k. tagging @irkimatsu because they requested the original fic :) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hey, can we talk? Please?

Husk’s phone is perhaps one of the least utilized in all of the ring of Pride, rarely considered and seldom used. Texting isn’t his thing, and who would he need to call? Just about everyone he still associated with was here in this damned hotel, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t easy to track down stuck behind the bar every day. So, while he kept it charged as per Charlie’s gentle request (and Vaggie’s dryly given order) that all staff are contactable while they’re out recruiting, he barely ever spared it even a glance.

But now…

Now the damned thing is burning into his periphery, and has been since you sent him those texts three hours ago.

A flash of your wide eyes and flushed cheeks passes through his mind and he frowns, reaching blindly for whatever bottle is closest. His claws wrap around a whiskey bottle and he tugs the stopper out of the neck, swallowing down three long pulls of burning liqueur.

“Ooh, somethin’s got kitty all twisted…”

Husk looks up disapprovingly as Angel Dust arrives at the bar, settling himself gracefully onto his usual stool with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. The bartender tosses the stopper onto the bar, taking another swig. “Don’t.”

Angel pouts teasingly, accepting the glass of the same that Husk pours him. Usually he’d prefer something sweeter, but its late and work was long, so the hard stuff will work just fine. Besides, whatever is twisting up Husk into an angry little pretzel is so much tastier. He knocks back the drink, setting the glass back down in front of his friend. “Aw, what’s wrong, Whiskers?”

Husk growls quietly – a warning for Angel to shut the hell up – which the porn star, of course, ignores. He pulls another glass out from under the bar, pouring the two of them another drink. Angel’s eyebrow shoots up again as Husk’s own glass is filled almost to the rim.

“This got anythin’ to do with the way you’ve been avoidin’ our other favorite resident the last few days?” Angel asks knowingly, and Husk almost chokes on his drink. Had you told him what Husk had done? That you’d found him humping your fucking pillow like some kind of creep? That he hadn’t fucking stopped even when you’d walked in? How he’d cum like a fucking pervert while you’d watched?

“Don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“I’m talkin’ about the tasty little sinner you’ve been gettin’ all heart-eyed over since they moved in.” the spider says pointedly. He takes another sip of his drink, exhaling the burn slowly.

“I ain’t—”

“I ain’t blind.” Angel points out. “And if I gotta watch her ass mope around the hotel for one more day because you’re avoidin’ her, I’m gonna lose my damn mind. She’s no fuckin’ fun like this an’ if I’m expected to stay sober in this place imma need the two o’ ya to do ya fuckin’ part. An’ I’ve always liked a romance a helluva lot more than a drama. Or, ya know, at the very least a good age gap porno.”

Husk snorts despite himself. “And here I thought you were worried about someone other than yourself for once,”

Angel grins. “So?”

The cat glances surreptitiously towards his phone. “I ain’t avoiding her.”

“No?” Angel notices, and the fucker manages to snag the phone before Husk can stop him. He smirks at the lack of password and opens it with ease, the screen still settled on the messages you’d sent him hours ago. “Oooh… what’cha got to talk about?”

Husk’s face burns despite himself. “Fuck off.”

“Sure.” Angel shrugs, tapping out a response and sending it before Husk can stop him. He tosses the phone back to the swearing feline, shooting him a wink as he stands to leave. “But only so you two can ‘talk’.”

Husk flips him off as he goes, a growl rumbling out through gritted fangs. He glares after the spider until he’s out of sight, his ears falling low as he glances down at the phone in his paw.

Husk: I’m off in ten.

“Shit.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Husk swallows heavily as he stands outside the door to your suite, rubbing a hand through the fur at the side of his neck. He should just keep walking, head back to his own room, and drown his embarrassment in whatever booze he can scrounge up in there.

Hell, maybe you might not ever forget what he’d done, but with enough alcohol, maybe he can.

He sighs, fishing his phone out of his pocket to re-read the response you’d sent him only minutes after Angel’s text.

Come see me in my room?

Husk groans to himself before finally raising a fist and knocking hesitantly on the wood of the door. “Hey, it’s… it’s me.”

“Come in.”

Your response comes immediately, and Husk’s ears twitch forward at the breathy quality in your voice. He hesitates a moment longer before finally turning the knob and pushing open the door.

And his heart stops, blood rushing into his cheeks and lower.

You’re laid out on your bed, propped up on the pillows so you can meet his gaze through heavy-lidded eyes. Your hair is disheveled and your face is flushed, a sweet, almost innocent pink staining your cheeks. You’re all but naked, a bra of red silk wrapped around your chest. One of the straps is hanging off your shoulder, the cup sitting low enough that husk can see the dusky skin of your nipple peeking out from under it. Knees bent and legs splayed wide, you bite your lip and whimper with your hand between your thighs, two fingers pumping eagerly in and out of your wet, wet pussy.

And you have one of his bowties wrapped around that palm.

“Hi…” you whine as you slip your fingers out of you to instead tease over your clit, your hips bucking up into your hand. The red silk of the tie is stained with your cum, soaked in it, and Husk’s lips part, his breath coming heavily.

“Hi,” he replies softly, the hint of a disbelieving smile touching the edge of his lips. “You…”

“Fuck…” you moan quietly and Husk curses at the sound of it. He doesn’t want to blink, to miss a second of what you’re doing in front of him… for him. “Fuck, Husk…”

He groans as you slip your fingers back into your cunt, your other hand coming up squeeze at your breast needily. He can see your nipple harden and catch between your fingers, and the door closes behind him with a quiet snap as he steps further into the room, enclosing him in the heady scent of your arousal.

Any nerves you felt over this plan have melted away with the expression on Husk’s face, the soft silk a teasing friction against your clit. You have to force yourself not to close your eyes, thrilling in the way his pupils have all but eclipsed his irises as he watches you. Husk clears his throat, his breath shaking. “Didn’t… didn’t have to do this, doll.”

“Always do it for you,” you confess, voice reedy, and God above if those words don’t go straight to his dick.

“Fuck, sweetness…”

“Feels so good, Husk,” you murmur needily, rolling your hips up against your hand. The sound of you fucking yourself, the wetness of your cunt and the breathy moans that escape you are more addictive than anything else Husk has ever sampled, and his cock aches with the need to feel that tight heat wrapped around it. “Fuck, it feels good…”

“God, you look so pretty, baby,” he breathes, and you swear, you could get drunk off all these pet names. “Such a pretty thing…”

“Please, Husk…” you whimper, humping up into your hand, and you moan needily as you watch him palm his cock through his pants and squeeze. He exhales a groan, eyes rolling back for a second. Your other hand leaves your breast to instead join the other between your legs, your thighs clenching around your hands as you fuck yourself onto your fingers and frantically rub at your clit. “God, fuck, please. Please…”

Husk feels like he could pass out when he replies, “Cum for me, sweetness.”

A few more moments and your hips lift off the sheets. You cum with a broken, drawn-out moan of his name, eyes squeezing closed and your thighs shuddering with every wave of your orgasm. The bowtie is soaked, dripping with your cum, and Husk can’t help the fleeting thought of wearing your scent around his neck. He exhales a curse as he watches, transfixed, and God does he want to bury his face between those quivering thighs and taste that ambrosia between your legs.

Fuck.

You’re beautiful.

[sansaorgana]

Could I maybe request a bit of a sequel fic to thrown to the wolves where we kind of see the outside galaxy's perspective on the couple and their son. Like a lady from caladan remembering playing with reader and reconciling it with who she is now or a low ranking guard on Giedi Prime and the few times he's caught glimpses of them reflecting on how great it is that his chances of being randomly killed by the baron have dropped significantly since the Baroness has arrived or a handmaid to Irulan whose heard whispers that even the emperor fears them. IDK I think it could be interesting to see them and see how rumor and truth shape their wider image in the galaxy.

Thank you once again though for the masterpiece that is Thrown To The Wolves!

THROWN TO THE WOLVES MASTERLIST

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi, darling! 💝 Sorry that it took me so long but I was dealing with the end of semester at Uni. 🙄 Thank you for the request because it was interesting to write from other people's perspective. Perhaps the story is not very long but I have one more story about Feyd and our beloved (Na-)Baroness in my inbox to write, so it's not the end... yet! 😁

WORD COUNT — 1,370

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

After her arrival, Princess Irulan was told by her servants that her father expected to see her. She nodded her head and freshened herself before taking a walk down the corridor to meet with her father. To her surprise, The Reverend Mother was not there and it was unusual since she often reminded of The Emperor's shadow.

“Welcome back home, child,” her father greeted her and pointed at the chair next to his. Irulan sat there and looked at him, waiting for his questions. “How was the ceremony on Giedi Prime?”

“Splendid,” Irulan answered genuinely. “They have outdone themselves, I have to admit. And The Baroness gave birth to the new na-baron on the same night. The excitement was unbelievable.”

“On the same night?” The Emperor smirked. “That woman plotted it very carefully.”

“Not everything is a result of plotting and scheming, dear father,” Irulan sighed. “Women cannot predict the exact time of birth.”

She was a bit irritated with her father for assuming such a thing – not because she was under The Baroness’ charm or influence but because it was so… typical for a man of him. They had no idea about childbirth but they loved to pretend they knew everything.

“Do not underestimate them, The Harkonnens,” The Emperor tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at his daughter as if he was able to hear her thoughts. “Their technology and medicine advanced us in ways we don't even know about. They know very well that their experiments would not be approved by the other Great Houses so they keep most of them a secret. And do not underestimate The Baroness either. What do people say about her?”

“That she can temper Feyd-Rautha, the new Baron,” Irulan answered. “They hope for that certainly.”

“Tame him? Have you seen her on Arrakis?” The Emperor sneered at that. “Women tend to be more ruthless leaders than men for they truly do believe that their cruelty is justified for the way the society is treating them,” he reminded his daughter. After all, she would inherit after him as well.

If they were lucky. And deep down he knew they would not be. He was old and weak now but not stupid. He knew what The Harkonnens wanted – his throne. Feyd-Rautha himself perhaps would not be a threat that big but the new Baroness was a dangerous new pawn in that game. She had her ruthless husband under control and he was nothing but a loyal dog – he would bite and attack when she asked. And The Emperor knew that she would ask. She was only waiting for the right moment.

“The Harkonnens have gained a new amount of power and influence. A dangerous one,” he thought out loud. “They're so powerful now that I can't take away their privileges because they'd attack and only prove their forces are stronger than the Imperial ones.”

“It's better to keep them as friends,” Irulan nodded as she played nervously with her fingers.

“Let's hope and pray that the new Baroness wants to make friends,” her father smiled sadly.

He was old already, he couldn't care less. But he was worried about his daughter’s future.

“The word soon will spread about their power. We have to make sure all the rumours about them wanting the Imperial Throne will be silenced,” he added.

The rumour was spreading indeed. But a maid from Caladan who had used to be the new Baroness' personal servant back in the day… She didn't believe the cruel rumours.

As her former Princess was leaving to Giedi Prime, she had promised her to keep visiting her mother's grave. And she was standing above it now as she admired the new stone next to it. The grave of Duke Leto and Lady Jessica was standing right next to his late wife's. Baroness Harkonnen had paid for the transport of their bodies and for the funeral and the stone. She had given all the instructions on what should be written on it. 

Duke Leto Atreides. Lady Jessica – mother of Prince Paul Atreides and the unnamed daughter.

And the maid knew – she had heard the stories – that it was Baroness Harkonnen herself who had murdered Lady Jessica and her child. But the maid also knew that her former Princess could not be as fearsome and cruel as the rumours were saying. She still cared about her father and even made her peace with Lady Jessica in a way, since she allowed her to rest next to her mother. Another rumour said that she had also allowed Prince Paul's Fremen lover to take care of his body and give him a funeral according to their customs.

But the maid was sad as she watched. So many things had changed and she wished they all were still here – Duke Leto, Jady Jessica, young Paul and young (Y/N). 

A cold shiver went down her body at the realisation that only Baroness Harkonnen had survived out of them all. Perhaps the rumours were true after all – she had to be cruel and fearsome if she had been the only survival of her House and family and if she had helped to murder them herself. And the stone she had bought did not mean anything, really. It was just a stone.

Usually, on other planets, becoming the personal guard of the noble family was a privilege. On Giedi Prime it meant a death sentence. 

The young Baron couldn't care less about human life and he was always first to take it. The lives of slaves, servants and guards meant nothing to him and in the past he had been even killing them just out of boredom.

The young guard assigned to keep an eye on the nursery was tense every time the Baron was nearby. But so far so good, he thought, when he realised that the young na-baron Maxim-Feyd Harkonnen was already six months old and he was still alive. To last half a year nearby the Baron was an achievement for sure.

As he was standing in front of the doors leading to the nursery most of his days, he had an opportunity of witnessing the scary Baron Harkonnen performing activities that would certainly spoil his ruthless image. He was visiting the nursery every day alongside his wife – in fact, The Baroness was visiting a few times a day. But at least once a day The Baron was by her side, looking the guard up and down with contempt but doing nothing more than that.

Apparently, it was his wife's influence – so the people said. She believed that her own servants should not fear them too much because it was influencing their loyalty in a bad way. Whatever she believed in – for all the servants, slaves and guards it was a big relief.

But only the guards working around the nursery and two maids named Astra and Cara could see The Baron Harkonnen being… soft. Soft around his son when he was carrying him around and telling him war stories. He was definitely a very proud father even though he was often scared of hurting his child accidentally. And he tended to forget that children – especially so small – couldn't understand him. He often addressed little Maxim as if he was an adult and then he was getting frustrated that his son didn't understand him.

The Baroness found it funny each time. But even though she was a woman and most likely a reason why the chances of getting randomly killed decreased, it would be foolish to think she was not to be feared.

Not only her one command would make The Baron attack but also all it would take to enrage him was to look at The Baroness the wrong way. She wouldn't have to ask then, The Baron was a guard dog. A rabid animal, barely tamed by a madwoman – you never knew when she'd loosen the leash.

And that was the Galaxy's greatest fear now – and it was not the question of if but a question of when the leash would be loosened and the war for the Imperial Throne starts. And people wondered who was truly more dangerous – the rabid dog or the mad owner?

MASTERLIST

[lizardkingeliot]

Who wants to read an entire ~600 word scene from the upcoming sequel to my Loustat reunion fic? Because I'm 12k-deep into writing this thing and I'm getting so antsy to get it out into the world already but it's not even close to being done and I could perhaps use a bit of cheerleading so I'm just gonna drop said scene here lol...

Putting most of this under a cut I hope you all enjoy Louis and Lestat bickering about home decor. 🥰

—

The sun had only just set but they’d already been up for an hour. They were standing in the living room on the rug that had been delivered while they were sleeping. The thick pile soft and plush against Louis’ bare feet. Lestat was splitting his time between frowning down at it and frowning over at Louis.

“This won’t do, mon cher. It’s too…” He gestured airily with one hand, sharp nails gleaming in the artificial light. “French country. Were we not going for coastal?” “I’m gonna ban you from watching those home reno shows on the iPad if you don’t—” Louis drew a breath and fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Thought you hated coastal.”

Lestat hummed, tipped his head to one side, scowled down at the rug. “Even so, is it not the aesthetic we are striving for here in our coastal home?”

“You picked out the rug, Lestat. You—”

“It looked different in the online pictures, cheri.”

“Buy another one, then.”

Louis sighed with his whole chest. He didn’t care about the rugs or the curtains or the lamps. Not really. Though he was starting to get antsy about picking art for the walls. Had been itching to pull pieces from his collection since the first night the realtor sent him the listing. As soon as Lestat decided to stop being difficult on purpose, he could make it work. Lestat let out a sound. Tiniest hint of a growl in his throat. Louis watched him gazing down at their bare feet nestled into the pile. “We need to find a proper boutique. Better yet an auction house. Why are we scouring web pages on an iPad for pieces for our home?”

“Easier that way,” Louis said with a shrug. There was an ache in his stomach he couldn’t give a name to. “We can always just hire someone to do this shit for us, Lestat. I know designers, decorators. Artists. I can call some people—”

“You don’t care about our home.”

Louis’ stomach twisted itself into a knot so quickly it nearly doubled him over. “What the fuck—” He couldn’t help it when the words flew out of his mouth. Seriously—what the fuck. “Why would you say somethin’ like that to me, Lestat?”

Lestat set his eyes on Louis. The set of his jawline was hard and tense. He had that look in his eyes like a cat about to do something very, very stupid. “You cared so much back at Rue Royale. Firm opinions on every piece of furniture. The art on every wall—" “I got art lined up. You know that. You know I’m gonna handle the—” “Do you remember that lamp you hated? Wanted to throw it in the incinerator the moment I—" “Don’t see what point you’re tryin’ to—” “dared to bring it home to replace the one—” “I don’t remember the lamp. I remember you—" “that had been badly damaged—" “being impossible about everything exactly the way you are—” “when we knocked it from the table—” “right now.” “making love. And I—” “Lestat!” “Louis.” Louis drew a long deep breath and huffed it out. The tension in his chest abated just a little, just enough. “I don’t remember the lamp,” he said. And clenched his jaw. And shook his head. Lestat was gazing at Louis with wide eyes that didn’t blink. The centers of them huge black voids Louis could have tumbled down into in seconds. He leaned close. So close the ends of their noses brushed together. “How convenient for you,” he growled, one corner of his mouth twitching up. Louis growled back, showed his teeth, tiniest hint of his fangs poking out. “You’re insufferable, you know that.” He reached forward at once and let his mind go dark. Took Lestat by the hair with both hands. And crashed their mouths together.

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 13: Room Service (Bath Sex)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Medic x Fem!Reader

Summary: Medic treats you to a surprise to make up for some past incidents (can be read as a sequel to the 27th chapter of my very first Kinktober series!)

Tags: Bath sex, fingering, oral, aftercare

Word Count: 3.5k

The Masterlist

The hotel elevator could not possibly be any slower. As if the fact that the staff had forgotten to stock your room with toiletries wasn’t enough, not to mention the non-existent room service. The phone in your room didn’t even ring when you tried to call the front desk. You had needed to go out to get some of the bare necessities. The bag of travel sized shampoo and conditioner felt heavy in your hand. Thankfully there was a convenience store just next door.

Finally the elevator arrived on your floor, and you reached your room, unlocking it with a click. You entered to find Medic reclined in a chair, reading a book, or rather, pretending to read a book. How did you know he was pretending? Well, Medic hadn’t packed any books on this trip, and the only one available in the hotel room was the Bible. You had a feeling that a man who had sold several souls to Satan wouldn’t have much use for such a thing.

“Ah, you’re back!” Medic said, tossing the religious text onto a nearby table without a care.

“Yeah, finally. That damn elevator…” you muttered a few curses to yourself.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Medic rushed forward, taking the bag from you. “Here, let me take this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Poor thing? That’s a bit much.”

Medic laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound. His joy was contagious. Even when the two of you were on the battlefield together, he could make you laugh alongside him. “I suppose that’s true. You are quite capable of dealing with such a minor inconvenience,” he said. You met Medic’s gaze. He was grinning, and his gaze was lit up with something you knew all too well.

“Oh no,” you said. “You’ve done something.”

Medic had the decency to look taken aback, albeit poorly. You knew him too well, and you knew that look. It was the same look he had when he told you about his exploits in sewing baboon uteruses into his colleagues. It was the same look he had when he transplanted a would-be mugger’s brain into a pumpkin. You probably would have also noticed that same look on his face as he performed your heart operation for the Ubercharge when you two had first met, but you were a bit distracted by the fact that one of your vital organs had just burst in his hands. It was a look that meant, ‘I know something you don’t know.’

“Perhaps I have,” Medic said, grinning even wider before clearing his throat. “I’ve planned a little something for you, liebe.”

“Really?” You were still suspicious. There was still a chance that this ‘little something’ might involve impromptu surgery.

“Since we spent our previous vacation days smuggling exotic animal organs-”

“Yes, I remember the whale liver,” you said. “Vividly.”

“Of course,” Medic said with a nervous laugh. “Well, I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Oh, is that so?” Medic didn’t respond, wordlessly leading you to the bathroom. Even though you had been assured that this was not an organ smuggling trip, part of you expected to see a basin full of viscera on ice behind the bathroom door. Instead, you were met with a jacuzzi tub filled with warm water and bubbles. Rose petals floated on the surface, dappling the soap foam with flecks of crimson. You picked one up, feeling it between your fingers. Sure enough, they were quite real.

“Well, liebchen?” Medic asked, motioning towards the scene before you. You were pleasantly surprised, to say the least, but unsure of what to say. After a bit of pondering you ultimately settled on a simple question.

“Where did you get real rose petals?”

“I borrowed them from Spy,” Medic said, looking very proud of himself. You gave him a skeptical look.

“Borrowed?”

His composure faltered with a nervous laugh. “Aheh- well, more like, borrowed without him knowing…”

You sighed. Medic had always been one to follow the ‘ask for forgiveness, not for permission’ philosophy. That usually applied when he was sewing baboon uteruses into unsuspecting men, however it apparently applied to petty rose petal theft as well. You also couldn’t help but wonder why the hell Spy just happened to have a stash of fresh rose petals ready to go in the middle of a war zone, but those were questions for later.

You kissed him suddenly. It was nothing more than a quick peck, but it succeeded in flustering Medic enough to make his cheeks go pink. “Thank you for this,” you said, smiling up at him. He returned your smile before pulling you back in for another kiss, this one much more passionate. “Medic,” you gasped when the two of you finally parted. “You hid the hotel toiletries, didn’t you?”

“Well, I needed some way to get you out of the room for a while,” he admitted.

“And the lack of room service?” you asked.

“I just unplugged the phone.”

“Devious,” you chuckled, a bit ashamed that you hadn’t thought to check the plug in the first place. Then again, if you had, you probably wouldn’t have had this. “Well, I’d better make use of this bath before it gets cold, shouldn’t I?”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t put on a bit of a show for him as you undressed. The way you shimmied your pants down your legs with a little extra sway of your hips was especially bold. The shirt came off, your underwear and bra were thrown to the floor, and eventually you were fully undressed in front of the tub. Medic stared at the display with rapt attention, eyes darting between you and the pile of discarded clothes left upon the tile floor.

A soft laugh escaped you as you entered the tub. You could see the way Medic’s gaze raked over your body as you submerged yourself in the water, bubbles and froth just barely covering your chest. Medic let out a shaky breath as you began to settle into the water. His staring was anything but subtle.

“Are you going to join me?” you asked, smirking back at him and kicking your legs lazily in the spacious tub. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Come here, lean against the edge for me.”

“Alright,” you said, a little confused but curious. You sat back against the side of the tub, facing away from Medic. His hands came to rest on your shoulders for a moment before starting to rub gently, yet firmly. “Oh!” You gasped as he began to work the muscles, easing the tension out of your shoulders and then moving to your collar and around your neck. “Oh, that’s really nice.”

“I thought you might like this,” Medic said, sounding quite proud of himself. His medical knowledge was coming in handy as well. He knew just which muscles to focus on, and how to soothe the tension out of them. “Lean forward just a little. That way I can get your back as well.”

You did as he said, trying not to shiver as his fingers worked up your spine. His palms then splayed out over your upper back, massaging, caressing, and making you sigh with every delicate touch. Oh, those sounds you were making, so reminiscent of something far less wholesome. Medic reminded himself to be patient. He would get to that soon enough. The first order of business was to warm you up and relax your body.

The heels of his hands pressed hard along the middle of your back, working out an especially stubborn knot of tense muscle. That effort rewarded him with an outright moan. It sure as hell didn’t make it any easier for Medic to keep his cool. After a few deep breaths, he pulled his hands away. You heard the distinctive pop of a bottle opening, but before you could turn around, his hands were back, now massaging your scalp and working up a lather with some shampoo. You took a deep inhale, breathing in the scent of the soap as it reached you. There were notes of something floral, perhaps lavender.

When he was done, you dipped your head beneath the water, rinsing the soap out before letting him move on to the conditioner. He worked that product through your hair with just as much diligence. You could get used to being pampered like this, however a subtle twinge of desire chipped away at your mind. This whole situation- being washed by your lover, your naked body barely concealed by frothy bubbles- was undeniably intimate. It led your mind to wander.

“Your face is red, liebling,” Medic said, ever observant. “Is the water too hot?”

His question sounded so damn innocent, and it probably was. You weren’t worked up enough for him to start outright teasing you yet. “No, it’s not too hot,” you said. “It’s perfect, this is all perfect.”

Medic cupped your cheek, turning your face until he could lean down to kiss you. He was surprisingly chaste, going slow and soft, feeling the heat radiating off of you. Oh he definitely knew why you were blushing now. He parted from you with a soft gasp. “Do you want me to touch you, schatz?”

You stammered, tongue tied and flustered beyond belief. “You are touching me,” you said, mentally slapping yourself for giving such a deadpan answer. “I mean, you were. The massage, and washing me, and-”

“You know what I really mean,” Medic laughed.

He was right. You knew exactly what he meant, and you knew exactly what you wanted. Getting the words out was the challenging part. You took a deep breath. “I would like that,” you said, miraculously managing to keep your voice steady. “Please.”

He pushed his sleeves up higher before dipping an arm into the water. “Lean back, liebchen.” You rested your head against the edge of the bathtub. He began by caressing your thighs before letting his fingers brush over your entrance. Just that small gesture made you buck forward slightly. “Ooh, so sensitive!” Medic teased. You trapped your lower lip between your teeth to smother any embarrassing noises as he began to rub slow circles over your clit.

Medic leaned forward against the side of the bathtub, his head next to yours, his chin resting on your shoulder. You shivered when his stubble brushed against your neck. He knew how ticklish you were, smiling to himself when he managed to draw out a barely restrained giggle that ultimately devolved into a moan. You were so soft, melting into his touch like butter. Both the steam from the bath and your own arousal colored your cheeks, giving you a perpetual blush. It was an adorable look for you.

Trying to take things a step further, Medic began to press into you. Usually you would be quite wet enough to take two fingers, but just one caused you to pull back with a wince. It seemed that the bath water ironically hindered any attempt at penetration. So much for water equating to wetness, at least, not the kind of wetness you needed. “Sorry,” you apologized. “Here, maybe if I get out-”

“Nein, it’s perfectly fine, liebe.” Medic placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you from leaving the warm embrace of the bath. “Would you like to keep going as we were before?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It felt nice with you just touching me.” Medic smiled, eager to return to pampering his little dove.

Soft gasps and sweet little moans escaped you as he returned to circling your clit, barely touching it enough to get a reaction. His free hand joined the fray, massaging your chest and brushing against your nipples. You bit your lip as Medic took full advantage of how sensitive they were.

“Don’t be shy,” Medic whispered, his lips close to your ear. “Let me know how good you feel.” You let a louder moan slip, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You would have gone even redder if you could see the self-satisfied grin Medic was sporting. From behind, he began to kiss the nape of your neck, moving along your collarbone every so often, whispering soft praises and sweet nothings. “Sehr schön, you look so beautiful like this, liebchen. Just relax, let your doctor take care of you.”

Well, you were nothing if not obedient. You let Medic have his way with you while you just sat back and enjoyed the ride, surrounded by warm water dotted with iridescent bubbles. Said water began to ripple as your breath started to quiver, chest rising and falling at a faster and faster pace. You squirmed, unable to keep the slight tremor out of your muscles. That pleasure was starting to reach a peak, and you couldn’t keep yourself still. Medic took notice, of course, letting his lips brush against your ear.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned at first. His strokes slowed, but a desperate whine from you quickly confirmed that your squirming was not born of discomfort. His tone shifted. “Ooh, is my little dove getting close?”

You gave a quick nod, whimpering as his pace began to speed up. You wanted this to last longer, but he was so talented with his fingers that holding back was a futile effort.

“I’ve got you, just let go.” You felt his arm wrap around your body and a pair of lips pressed against your cheek right before your resistance caved and your orgasm overtook you. Medic held you close, barely paying any mind to the way the bath water spilled over onto the floor as you shuddered and arched back against the tub. “That’s it. Gott, you’re so beautiful, so soft,” he murmured. His strokes eased up before stopping completely. The gentle pressure of his arm around you kept you grounded as you came down from the high.

Your eyes fell closed and you lost track of where Medic’s hands roamed. One caressed your chest, momentarily squeezing one of your breasts and making you gasp. Leaning back, you rested your head on his shoulder only to find that you were met with damp fabric. “Fuck, I splashed water on you, didn’t I?” you sighed. “Sorry.”

Medic laughed softly. “It’s fine, liebe.” It was humorous that you thought a little water was of any concern. After all, you had seen him splattered with blood and viscera both on the battlefield and in his operating room countless times. Then again, you were rather out of it at the moment, still basking in the afterglow.

“Can you help me get out?” you asked after a moment, noticing that the water was beginning to turn cold. “I’m not sure my legs will hold.”

Medic offered you his arm, supporting your weight as you hoisted yourself out of the water. He reached in, pulling the drain plug and letting the soapy water slowly spiral down. A soft towel was draped over your shoulders, its plush texture protecting you from any chill. Your mind felt delightfully hazy, simply enjoying that post-orgasm bliss. It was only when Medic stripped his wet shirt off that you snapped back to attention, not about to miss a chance to admire that sight. It was only when he proceeded to kneel between your legs that you realized he may have more than just eye candy in store.

All you managed to say when he gently pushed your thighs apart was a surprised, “Oh.”

He smiled up at you, head tilted like a curious puppy. It was an ironically adorable look for a man as dangerous as him. “Again?” he asked, no further words needing to be spoken for you to understand his meaning.

“If you want to,” you said, spreading your legs slightly wider with a smirk.

Medic mirrored your expression, resting his hands on your thighs and gently massaging the soft flesh. “Let me make you feel good, Liebchen.”

You saw it coming, but the sensation of his tongue lapping over your cunt still managed to draw a sharp gasp from you, one which quickly dissolved into a moan when he pushed in deeper. You tried your best not to squirm- mostly because you were seated precariously on the narrow edge of a bathtub. Perhaps this wasn’t the best place for a bit of impromptu cunnilingus, but you weren’t going to say no to Medic’s offer of a second round, and you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop now.

Every little noise you made seemed to spur him on. Medic was practically burying his face against you, breathing in your scent with every rushed inhale. The rose and lavender from the bath water mixed with your natural aroma, so sweet and intoxicating. Each breath he took was beginning to make his head spin, like he was getting his own personal high- or maybe the pressure of your thighs against his skull was beginning to get to him.

Your climax came on quicker this time, given that you were still quite sensitive. Medic felt you grow slick against his tongue, and he took advantage of it. With newfound ease, he slipped a finger into you, curling it against the spot that he knew would have you seeing stars. If the way you started gasping his name and tugging his hair was any indication, he had found it. You steered him with that death grip on his hair, guiding him up to your clit.

“I’m close,” you whined, cursing under your breath at how quickly he had managed to bring you to the edge. You had hoped to hold out for a little longer.

Any disappointment you may have felt was washed away when your second orgasm of the night hit you with a full body shudder. Medic groaned against you, the subtle vibrations against your clit making you buck forward unexpectedly, nearly tumbling off the edge of your seat. Thankfully, Medic was able to sit up just in time to catch you, pulling you forward to lean against him. You were so dizzy and high on endorphins that he wondered if you even realized how close you had come to toppling backwards into the tub. Based on the dazed grin you currently wore, you either didn’t know or didn’t care.

“Careful, liebling,” Medic said. “We don’t want you getting hurt.”

You giggled, throwing your arms over his shoulders. “It’s a good thing a doctor isn’t too far away. Well, ex-doctor.”

Medic rolled his eyes, chuckling softly at your little quip. He sat you back on the edge of the tub, making sure you were steady before he began to dry you off with the towel he had draped over your shoulders earlier. You were mostly dry already, with Medic just giving you a quick once over. By the time he was done you were already being overcome with a gradual, pleasant euphoria, the second afterglow beginning to settle over you.

Noticing that you were beginning to drift, Medic led you out of the bathroom. You leaned heavily on him, grateful to finally set foot on the carpeted floor and no longer be subjected to the potentially slippery tile of the bathroom. However, you immediately began to shiver when exposed to the cold hotel room air. Why these establishments felt the need to constantly blast the air conditioning, you would never know.

“Let’s get you under the covers,” Medic said, guiding you to the bed where you immediately collapsed into the mattress. The pillow was cool against your burning cheeks. You heard the sound of the television across the room being turned on, the volume down low, just enough to offer a bit of ambient noise. Medic knew you too well, and that included the fact that you struggled to sleep in complete silence. Something about the total lack of noise felt oppressive, probably because you had long since gotten used to the chaos of your home base.

A content sigh was the only sound that left you when Medic settled in beside you, pulling you to his chest and letting you relax into the warmth of his body. He pulled the covers up around the two of you, and eventually your shivering ebbed. “Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open, liebchen,” Medic crooned, watching you try and fail to blink away the fatigue.

“I should do something-” you said, drowsily, interrupting yourself with a yawn. “You know, something to return the favor for all of this, to make you feel good too.”

“You don’t need to repay me for anything. This was all about you.” Medic kissed your forehead, his fingers combing through your hair and brushing over your scalp in a way that broke your resolve to stay awake. You let your eyes fall shut, finally admitting defeat in your losing battle with the allure of sleep. “That’s it, rest now, liebchen. We can sleep in for as long as we want tomorrow.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You were practically asleep before he even finished his sentence.

[aseaofyoongi]

behind pixels 1 | jjk

jjk x reader (f)

genre: sex worker au (jk)

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: with rising stress, being caught touching yourself and no satisfaction for your own imagination you decide to take your friends advice of using a certain little app for assistance.

warnings: not another college smut au . . you guessed it lol; foul language; sensual/dirty talk; masturbation; computer sex; strangers to sex worker jk helping you out for the night lol (pls stay safe of the world wide web yall); mentions of sexual intercourse - but ofc there is none; cum eating. . she licks her fingers after.. yeah; open ending and no preparation for a pt. 2 so dont hate me.

next part: behins pixels the sequel

word count: 3,3 thousand words

posted: april 8th, 2023

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-

-

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

Is this your first time

here?

Sorta.

You can’t sorta be

here for the first time.

It's a yes or no question.

I thought this site was

no questions asked. No

strings attached?

You against conversation

or something? Desperate

to get right to it?

Not desperate. . but that is

what we’re here for.

Right bunny boy?

Right.

There was a second of silence in between messages. For a brief moment you interpreted his quietness as a goodbye but he was still online. . Perhaps, he thought you to be too straightforward and that turned him off entirely and he moved on to the next user.

Still, there was a faint hope within you that he would reply so you sat in the dead stillness of your room, lights turned off to avoid recognition, door locked with only your undergarments to hug your body.

Typically, this wouldn’t be the event to make-up your Friday night however stressed induced days. . and the simple fact that you were in a torment of arousal twenty-four seven with no further satisfaction stemming from the guidance your imagination had on your fingers.

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

You sat up on the bed in anticipation of his reply even though you'd never admit it to the stranger on the other side of the screen. He was about to help you get off, so you were definitely at the gates of desperation. It trickled all throughout your body as if a rain cloud sat right above you drenching you in its honeyed ardor.

Your skin turned to goosebumps as the chat bubble continued appearing and disappearing again and again.

Fine. But at least

tell me how you

found me.

I wasn’t specifically

searching for you.

Then who?

Anyone really.

Ouch. You know

I actually felt a bit

special for a second.

You still should. You’re

description helped me

choose you.

Be honest, was it

the tattoos?

If I say maybe would

you be mad at me?

Not at all.

Then, yes.

Plus your description

says you have long hair.

Who was the

runner-up?

Someone named Tae. But

I remembered a friend

visits him often.

So you found out

about us through

a friend?

Yes.

We can do either a

video call or messages.

Which do you prefer?

Video call.

If you’re up for it.

I’m OK with it

as long as you are.

I’ll call you in 5.

I’ll be here.

The rippling anticipation waved through you like electric currents rumbling your entire being right off its course. Though, BunnyBoy98 was a complete stranger you were minutes away from stripping yourself of every bit of shame and vulnerability right before him.

You couldn’t believe you actually went through with it.

And it all began about a week prior. When your friend had walked in on you in a . . less than ideal situation. You succumbed to the pleasure of your favorite toy, legs stretched wide and completely bare on your bottom half. Overcome in the feeling as you maintain focus on chasing your own orgasm. You remember hearing the hinges on the door creak but you weren’t expecting anyone so you remained painting a fervor image behind your eyelids. Envisioning slender fingers being pumped in and out of you repeatedly.

There were beads of sweat strolling down your body as you were in position; about to be catapulted into outer space. The atmosphere you set for yourself was serene and the only sounds that could be heard were your occasional whimpers and the music that played softly in the background. Everything drove you closer and closer to where you wanted to be.

Where you needed to be.

You were so close then a gasp inundated the air around you. A gasp that most certainly did not come from you.

“What the fuck?” You shot your eyes open and quickly saw your friend buried into a corner near the door. She faced the wall but you could only imagine the revolted look on her face, “can you lock the door next time?”

“Oh my,” you quickly pulled the covers over your sweaty body, “can you knock next time?”

“I did knock,” she yelled back, “but you were a little busy.”

“So you just barge in?”

“I thought you might have been dead in the toilet or something,” she shrugged and turned back around to find you sprawled in your bed, “oh, you’re done?”

“What do you think?”

“I mean don’t stop on my account. We all do it,” she sat across from your bed and began spinning around on your computer chair, “I personally like to meet Tae when I’m in the mood but you know this all works too.”

“Who’s Tae?” you questioned sitting up in the bed; wrapping your bed sheets around your figure tightly.

“He’s from this app where guys kinda help girls get off,” she said it so casually you almost didn’t fully decipher the words escaping her lips.

“There’s an app for that?”

“It’s the twenty-first century there’s literally an app for everything.”

You cleared your throat, “is it safe?”

“Are you interested?” she waggled her brows.

“No,” you scoffed, “did you need something?”

“I can’t come over just to spend time?” she shook her head, “I should’ve let you finish. Maybe you would have been in a better mood.”

“Fuck you,” you giggled.

“At least use this next time,” your phone dinged after she quickly sent you a text, “let me know how it goes.”

Her exit was barely audible. You were too preoccupied studying the link she sent for the app called ‘Eargasm An App for Women in Need.’

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

I’m ready.

Can I call you?

Yeah.

You can call.

The ringtone echoing amongst your walls was taunting, and your nerves nearly fooled you into letting it ring. And while it took a lot of physical and mental strength to actually pick your hand up and move it towards the mouse pad you were finally able to press the green button lighting up your screen.

BunnyBoy98 sat up against a wall; glowing under blue LED lights. His black hair was long as detailed in his description and it sat right above his shoulders. Though it was hard to tell under the stark ambiance his eyes mimicked the tint of chocolate and his piercing stare was aimed at you on the other side of the screen. . Well, it was actually aimed at your dark screen. Though, it was selfish of you, as you hid cowardly behind your turned off camera you wished he would remove the black mask hiding the bottom half of his face.

“Hi,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you murmured, perhaps a bit scared that someone might hear this interaction play out although no one would. You made sure your door was locked this time and you didn’t even have a roommate. “Should I continue calling you BunnyBoy or is there something else you prefer to be called?”

“You can call me JK,” his voice was sultry, soothing, grave. Somehow a mixture of all three in one; it vibrated in your inner ear like some sort of an invasively soft tune, one you know you’d be replaying many times after tonight.

“Sorry about the dark screen,” you attempted to swallow down any ounce of nervousness, “I guess you can say I’m a bit nervous.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” his reassurance quickly eased your frazzled nerves, “though I’ll admit you did sound a bit more assertive over messages.”

“I tend to come off over-confident through texts,” you snickered, “it’s a natural flaw.”

“Confidence is sexy so I would say it’s a blessing.”

The word sexy sounded so enticing coming from his lips even as they were hidden behind that damned black cloth. You roamed through countless fantasies of the man sitting right before you, about the way he possibly looked without being covered; how his touch might feel on your scorching skin and the tone of his whispers closer in the proximity of your ear.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he voice was playful, but it was so hard to read his expression behind his covered face, “have you begun having fun without me?”

“No,” you mumbled, “I haven’t.”

“Good,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what you like.”

“Like during. .” you drifted off.

He nodded, tucking his hair behind his ear, “What else are we here for darling?”

“Yes. Of course,” you huffed, slapping your palm on your forehead undoubtedly astounded by your own stupidity, “Uh, I like. .” You gave it some thought but kept rounding the same corners leading to you cluelessness, “I’m not sure I know what I like.”

“Forgive me for being blunt but have you touched yourself recently?”

“That’s the exact reason why I ended up here.”

“You’re addicted to masturbating?” He whispered as if he was keeping some big secret.

“No!” you answered back quickly, “Not at all. I’ve just been a bit stressed lately and well. . something else happened.”

“What happened?”

“My friend kinda walked in on me,” you whispered.

“It happens to the best of us sadly,” he chuckled, a sound so beautiful and gentle it matched the soft tune of songbirds in the morning, “how about you begin by telling me about the last time you were aroused. Just walk me through whatever got you in the mood that day.”

You closed your eyes leaning your head against the headboard. Your thoughts traveled back to a couple of days prior when your body sunk into the mattress under the hex of your fingertips. You were stripped down bare but you recalled the way every inch of your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“I had just gotten home after my classes,” a small white lie was the price to pay to save any once of dignity you had left in the eyes of the stranger before you — in reality, that very day and every other day you’d found yourself under the amorous touches of your sinful fantasies whenever you saw him, the boy employed at the campus student center.

You didn’t know his name and in reality he only lived in your mind in small flashes. The first polaroid was composed of his cheeky smile framed by indents of his round cheeks. While other snap shots focused on the way he always wore in a half up half down style or a bun; others were centered around the numerous tattoos inked into his right arm, especially the snake sitting right above his wrist and the patchwork tattoos on the dorsal side of his hand.

“Were you thinking about someone?”

“Yes.”

“What were they doing?”

There was a rush of heat traveling through you as you recalled the way you dreamt up his touch against your body, the way his fingers left behind trails of goosebumps on your skin.

“First he began touching me softly,” It was like your body was on auto drive and before you knew it you set the laptop beside you on the bed and began getting comfortable on the bed.

“Was he touching you anywhere specific?”

You hummed in response, “he drew all kinds of figures into my inner thigh, kept inching closer and closer and then he would pull away abruptly.”

“Did you enjoy him pulling away?”

“Yes, it made me want it more.”

“Ok, I’m gonna ask you to do a couple of things. If you don’t want to do something just tell me. I’m here for your pleasure.”

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you, “Yea, that’s fine.”

A strain of the jitters ate away at your nerves and you weren’t sure if you’d ever come down from that rollercoaster of anxiety. You were sitting at the peak in a single-person cart waiting to be plummeted down the valley of the tracks leading you to the finale; the culmination of an enticing ride.

“Are you naked?”

“Somewhat.”

“Take it all off.”

Even in the stillness of darkness removing your bra and panties made you feel entirely vulnerable. You were technically alone but JK was right there just a couple of pixels away.

“Close your eyes, doll. I want you to begin touching yourself just wherever it feels good,” he instructed and you weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you but you could’ve sworn his voice became more bass, “start high and slowly make your way down to your breasts. When you’re there let me know.”

His words were tainted with sin meanwhile he still sat back nonchalantly. You'd imagined he was satisfied in the way your soft whimpers overtook the air as you began pinching your perked nipples but you couldn’t tell for sure not while he still wore his mask.

“I’m assuming you’ve made it.” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“You’re not very good at following instructions. Are you, doll?” he rolled up the sleeves of his crewneck, finally exposing the infamous tattoos he detailed in his description. They were like pieces of artwork adorning his entire arm, not a single spot was left visible—and as much as you tried to get a better look at them for some reason you found it impossible to focus on just one.

“Sorry,” you muttered once again, “I was caught up in the moment I guess.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he offered, “but I need you to be vocal since I can’t exactly see you.”

“I’ll be more vocal. I promise,” you said, still toying with your nipples in between your fingers, “right now my hands are still at my tits.”

“Are you bored of that yet, doll?” the onset of his tumultuous utter; it was thunderous, like music for the soul, “you wanna aim lower?”

“Yes.”

“With the tips of your fingers I want you to move down your cleavage,” he said, “and stop right at your pelvis.”

Quickly, it felt like the evening had rushed by and the sun had been relocated right beside your bed. Though you complied with his command any form of coherent words became jammed in your throat incapable of rolling off your tongue.

The way your fingers slid past your folds earned a string of whimpers from your lips earning a satisfied titter from JK on the other side of the screen.

“Nice and slow, doll,” JK said, “be gentle but I want you to apply a bit of pressure every time your fingers meet your clit.”

JK’s voice was no longer muffled from the laptop’s static microphone. Instead in this version of your altered reality he was laying right beside you on your bed, and his fingers substituted yours against your cunt. His touch contained something yours simply did not possess, composed of a sort of spell that left you babbling moans. And as his fingers traced whichever incoherence they wanted into your clit you felt closer to your pinnacle.

“Fuck,” he stuttered, “I love the way you say my name.”

The bubbling daringness dazed with pleasure drove you to chant his name over and over in between your pants and obscenities. “You have no idea the things I would do for you to fuck me right now,” It was your best attempt at trying to break past his professional shell — His head fell back against the wall as his adam’s apple bobbed up and up, his eyes were shut tightly and his hands fidgeted with something off frame.

“You have no idea how much I’d love to fuck you but this is a contactless doll,” his breathing became uneven, “I’m afraid we could never meet. You could never know who I am and I could never know who you are.”

“N-never say never,” the contract enforced by the site was clear and simple, both parties must grant their consent to the meeting online without disclosing their identities. For safety measures you understood the implications of the rules applied but what of it when you genuinely just wanted to meet the dulcet stranger and ride along him for the wildest time of your life.

“Just focus on the feeling,” his voice was rugged; raspy as a result of the groans he sang into the air, “Focus on that shiver taking your back hostage and that very knot tightening in your core. I want you to only let your thoughts be consumed by that very feeling.”

You sat up using your elbow for support, still thriving to maintain the mental image of having JK near in curated colors. Again, you were in the presence of the man dipping the mattress beside you as he laid down with eyes to scorching their umber tone surrounding you in warmth.

“Now, finger yourself.”

The squelching sound of your finger pushing past your entrance had JK sitting up straight like he was intrigued by your facile compliance but you thought it was obvious that by now there was very little you wouldn’t do as long as it came from him.

“I wish I could see you doll,” he confessed, “I bet you look heavenly with your fingers inside of you.”

“C-contactless r-remember,” The motion living up to your satisfaction was hastened —you became divulged in the feeling of your walls on your fingers. You felt soft, warm, tight. All of the sensations combined to create a feeling so addicting your fingers developed a mind of their own as you drove themselves in and out of you with ease.

“Right. .”

“Fuck, this f-feels,” you swallowed to ease the desert developing in the back of your throat, “it feels s-so fucking good.”

“If I were there,” he mumbled, barely audible but your ears still perked up at the lulls of his voice, “First, I would serenade every inch of your skin. Your body would be the portrait I’d paint with my lips.”

“Mhm. .”

“I would cherish your body so well. Eat you out until your legs shake and fuck you until you’re a candid mess.”

“O-oh, fuck! JK don’t stop.”

“I would fuck you so well, doll.”

“I-I’m so close,” your arm became numbed yet, you kept fucking yourself with your fingers still succumbing to the fantasy of having JK in replacement of your own hand.

The temperature in your room draws beads of sweat on your body and the more you strive to reach your high the more scorching the temperature becomes. The creaking of your bed accentuated the speed of your movements, it was like a song featuring your constant moans.

“Until you’re babbling nonsense, and your headboard is marking up the wall and the neighbors finally know my name.”

JK’s words were laced with a delectable nectar, so sweet, a once off taste wasn’t enough and as you pleaded for more and he complied, continuing to fill your ears with sinful promises you crashed hard. Coming in spurts of white coating your fingers.

“I have a surprise for you,” you panted in between almost every word, “you ready?”

He nodded.

Call it post orgasm tipsiness but after sitting up a bit and adjusting the laptop to leave anything that wasn’t your mouth out of frame you turned on your camera for the very first time that night, pushing your glistening fingers which once invaded your walls past your swollen lips.

His hands rose to his hair and he slithered his fingers through it lightly before gripping his roots into his fists looking a fair amount aroused and frustrated. The tattoos you desperately wanted a peek of were finally on full display. After turning off your camera once again and JK began uttering praises your way, you began scanning the ink on his arm from his forearm up slowly. The artwork adorned his skin beautifully.

As you neared his wrists you noticed a very similar serpentine snake—one who you have stared at too often.

“Typically, things here are a bit different,” you finally registered his voice, “you would turn on your camera and I would provide more detailed assistance but I hope you still had a good time. I did.”

“Yeah,” your mind was in outer space, “I had a really good time.”

“Don’t shy away from visiting me again, OK?”

“Yeah,” you said, “bye, JK.”

Once the camera was off and you shut your laptop tightly, coming to the realization.

JK was him.

The boy, your boy from the student center.

-

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an: i was bored and im so sorry lol

reblogs, likes, comments, replies are always appreciated 🫶🏽

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Now I NEED to know the reactions to realizing you're still in the bed waiting to get railed I'm cry laughing you're amazing

No ur amazing 🥹❤️

You're all amazing seriously. All these delightfully unhinged asks have definitely distracted me from what would have probably been a very bad breakdown. Thank you and I love you all so much.

Please accept this little drabble about their reactions as a token of my eternal gratitude 🙏

Moment of Realization

Cross Guild x Reader

Wordcount: 691

Kinda hurt/comfort but mostly silly fluff

Not smutty but potentially NSFW due to obvious connotations

I'm not guaranteeing that there will be a NSFW smutty sequel but there may be

Reclined back against the headboard and plush feather pillows, clad in the revealing and undoubtedly expensive lingerie that Crocodile bought you a few days ago, you sigh to yourself. You're so used to their bickering at this point that it's easy enough to tune out. You flip through your book, catching brief snippets of Buggy's futile attempts to defend himself while Crocodile unloads a slew of particularly creative insults at him; of Mihawk's occasional scathing remarks that seem only to add fuel to the fire. Every so often you glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and over at the three half-naked idiots standing at the opposite side of the bed fighting.

It's doubtful that they even remember what started the fight. You really don't remember yourself at this point.

Perhaps fifteen minutes pass, and you catch sight of Mihawk rolling his eyes, arms crossed. As his eyes roll away from the other two pirates, they land on you, locking with your gaze as you raise your eyebrows and turn your attention back to your book.

Mihawk's eyes widen for the briefest of moments, and he elbow's Crocodile in the ribs. Crocodile tosses a particularly threatening glare at him. "The hell do you wa—"

And Mihawk silently jerks his head toward the bed.

Crocodile's eyes slowly drift over to the bed, his hook still at Buggy's throat, mouth still open. Buggy's eyes dart between you and Crocodile.

"Shit," says Crocodile under his breath.

You flip a page as Mihawk clears his throat. "Ah—darling...?"

You glance over, lifting your eyebrows again as you look between the three of them. "Oh, do you mean me?" you ask dryly. "So glad you remembered I was here. I feel so priveledged." He cringes the slightest bit. 

Crocodile gives a heavy sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Yeah..." He gives a light chuckle. "Sorry, sweetheart."

Buggy raises his hand. "I remembered, I just couldn't esca—"

Crocodile immediately rounds on Buggy with his hook again, growling out, "Listen here, you little sh—"

Mihawk clears his throat loudly before the situation can escalate again.

"We may have gotten...a bit carried away," he says carefully.

"And forgot I was here," you add, tucking your bookmark between the pages of your book. It's honestly amusing to see the three of them flinch in unison when you snap it shut, to watch them glance between each other as they try to figure out some way to get themselves out of the massive hole they have dug themselves into. You go on while they all remain silent. "Since you're all so busy, maybe I'll just go to sleep and you can just go fuck yourselves—"

That garners exactly the reaction you expected it to, and it's difficult not to smirk to yourself as they immediately jump to attemting to make ammends. In an instant you're surrounded on the bed, each of them vying to comfort you from the scorn they have inflicted by ignoring you.

"Now, sweetheart..." Crocodile plucks your book from your hands and sets it aside, brushing your hair away from your neck and leaning in close to murmur in your ear. "You know I'd much rather fuck you."

Mihawk curls his hand under your chin, turning your head to meet your gaze, lowering his head until his forehead touches yours. "It would be a crime to not make it up to you," he says lightly, lips almost brushing against yours.

Buggy lays across you, arms wrapped around your middle and nuzzling against your chest, adding, "We're all very sorry and love you very much and promise to worship the ground you walk on."

Rolling his eyes and sighing a little, Crocodile wraps his hand around your waist and tugs you a little closer. "I guess I agree with the clown." His lips brush against your jaw. 

"For once, yes," Mihawk allows.

You roll your eyes, unable to mask your smirk anymore. "I guess I can forgive you," you say airily, letting your lips barely brush against his. "This time."

Secretly, you don't mind them arguing every other night—because you know that they'll put in that much extra effort to make it up to you.