#i did not watch this show only to be slapped with a ship

[ellecdc]

Okay after many many thoughts I think I've got it!

Barty showing up to the gryffindor quidditch after party (cause James and Sirius are great players and know what they're doing) bloody and bruised cause he overheard some butthurt slytherins talking shit about James and their girl. And he wasn't gonna let that slide.

I'm not sure if it's clear, but this is in regards to the darksun x reader were talking about yesterday 😅

oooooooof ok.......*throws this at you all and runs* NEW SHIP ALERT: I'm new to this, be nice to me hahahahaha

poly!darksun x fem!reader at a bloody Gryffindor afterparty

CW: Barty shows up bloody and bruised but he's chuffed about it, reader won't stop slapping Peter [it's not that serious], Sirius is not that serious -> pairing = james potter x reader x barty crouch jr

It had been perhaps only 25 minutes since the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw game ended and the afterparty in Gryffindor tower was already in full swing.

And what Remus meant by full swing was that Sirius was literally swinging from the chandelier, Marlene and Lily were challenging one another to a game of ‘who could spin the most times without getting sick’ (which Remus felt was a game that everyone was going to lose), and you and Peter were halfway through a very intense muggle card game called slap which did indeed involve slapping and, apparently, swearing and trash talk. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Peter muttered as he rubbed the back of his hands dejectedly.

“Gonna have to be faster than that, Wormy.” You taunted as you collected his pile of cards.

“Oi, if she has so much as one welt on the back of her hand, Pete; there will be hell to pay.” James called as he came up behind you.

You turned to look at James then, and Remus was sure your smile was nearly blinding in your excitement and energy if James’ lovesick look was anything to go by.

“Yeah, yeah Prongs; she’s sodding winning by a landslide anyways, no need to get your knickers in a twist.” Peter muttered (rather petulantly for only having lost a round of a silly card game if you asked Remus).

“I don’t think it’s Prongs you have to worry about, my dear Wormy.” Sirius called from his new home in the chandelier, nodding towards the entrance as Barty stepped through the portrait hole. 

Remus watched as both you and James seemed to melt now that your third was here. He knew that it hadn’t been easy persuading Barty to participate in such “Gryffindorian displays of pompous pride” as he had called it, but you had somehow been able to convince him to celebrate the team’s wins if not only for James’ sake. 

And, as Sirius would pretend, maybe a little bit for his sake as well. Remus didn’t have the heart (nor the patience) to tell him that was a fat chance. 

“I’m not afraid of Junior.” Pete muttered darkly as he watched you reset the game in front of them. 

“Circe’s tits…perhaps you should be, Pete.” Sirius bit out through a grimace, causing the group to all turn their attention to the Slytherin boy.

Remus wasn’t exactly sure what the Slytherin practice was when getting ready for a celebratory quidditch afterparty, but based on Barty’s current state, it seemed that ritual consisted of at least one fist fight with a particularly angry hippogriff.

“What happened?” You nearly shrieked as you abandoned your card game and you and James made for your boyfriend. 

Barty let out a breath before he broke out into a smile. “Sorry I’m late! Had to take care of something on my way here.”

Remus was sure that the way Barty was grinning at the two of you had to be horribly painful for the busted lip he was currently sporting as his teeth quickly turned a pinky/red colour. 

“And what were you taking care of? A graphorn?” James asked incredulously as you guided Barty to a stool in order to fuss over him.

“Don’t be daft, James. There’s no graphorns in Hogwarts.” Barty waved him off, eyes moving to you as you assessed his face.

“Who did you run into, Barty?” You pressed; voice taking a no-nonsense tone that had Peter and Remus sharing a nervous look. 

“Just some Ravenclaws who were a little disappointed by the end of today’s match, is all.” He offered happily; pulling you closer towards him from where you were standing between his legs by the back of your thighs, watching you adoringly as you summoned a cloth to dab at his lip. 

“That’s all, is it?” You deadpanned, clearly not buying his story.

“I hardly think you were too fussed over some comment about quidditch scores, Barty.” James chided lovingly. 

“Of course I did! I love quidditch.” Barty spat defensively. 

“Yeah, but you hate the Gryffindor team.” Sirius called from his chandelier. 

“That’s not true! I’m shagging the captain for Salazar’s sake.”

“Okay, well…maybe don’t shout that?” You muttered as you looked around in embarrassment, earning a bark of laughter from James as he rubbed your shoulders consolingly. 

“I don’t know, bubs; I don’t see you risking showing up late and bloody over discourse on match scores.” James continued, clearly finding this more amusing than you were as you angrily cast a glacius on a cup and held it to Barty’s jaw which was quickly purpling in colour. 

“Okay, perhaps they said a few other things; it’s no big deal.” Barty offered dismissively, though Remus (and likely you and James) noticed the way that his grip seemed to strengthen on your thighs at his admission.

“Yeah? Like what?” You encouraged. 

Barty let out a defeated sigh as he finally turned his gaze to you. “You know I don’t like people talking about you; either of you.” He admitted quietly. 

You shook your head in disappointment but let out a sympathetic sigh.

“Wait, what’d they say about our girl?” James said then, craning his neck around you in order to look at Barty pointedly.

“It doesn’t matter Jamie! It appears he’s already taken care of it, yeah?” You hissed as you swatted at him with the cloth that you had been tending to Barty with. 

James quickly caught the end of the cloth and used it to pull you into him, planting a smacking kiss to your face. 

“I did take care of it!” Barty repeated excitedly. “Can I have a kiss?” He asked sweetly, smiling at you expectantly as you rubbed James’ kiss off of your cheek. 

“Absolutely not.” You grumbled as you ignored his disbelieving scoff.

“Why not!?” He cried out as you stepped out from between his legs.

“Barty, I am not rewarding you for bad behaviour.” You declared as you plopped yourself down in front of Peter again, ordering him to reset your card game. 

James quickly looked between the two of you before stepping between Barty’s legs to give him his own kiss.

“You are such a simp, James Potter.” Remus taunted under his breath as to not alert you to your boyfriend currently enabling your other boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah; laugh it up now. But I get to watch you try to wrestle Pads out of the chandelier later, so I don’t think you have a leg to stand on, Moons.” 

“He can sleep up there tonight, for all I care.” Remus muttered petulantly as he crossed his arms.

Sirius wouldn’t sleep up there tonight; Remus knew it, James knew it, Sirius knew it, likely the whole bloody school knew it. But Remus would pretend he wasn’t as big a simp as James Potter, at least a little bit longer, in order to preserve what little superiority he held for the time being.

[aylish91]

New chapter incoming!!

Sea Of Hope Chapter 8

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

This masterful piece of art was done by @aoi-kanna as a commission. They are truly talented and I appreciate all the hard work they put into making this for me. Go check them out, they are absolutely wonderful!!!

Story below or AO3 above.

~~~

While Axe checked you over, Edge grabbed Red by the back of the neck and stormed down the main hatch, loudly yelling at the rest of the crew to mind their own business as they scurried out of his way. For the most part, Red's protests went unheard as he was dragged down the steep steps. Blue, on the other hand, had hesitantly approached Papyrus, whispering something before they too turned and headed past the hatch, disappearing through a pair of doors into the upper levels of the ship. 

The clearing of a throat had you tensing and pressing closer to Axe. Black had once again gotten closer than you were comfortable with, standing only a couple paces away. “AS HEARTWARMING AS THIS IS, IT IS QUICKLY BECOMING LATE AND THE LADY STILL NEEDS ADEQUATE DRESS. MY BROTHER’S COAT IS HARDLY A FITTING SUBSTITUTE.”  

Rus chuckled beside him. However, when he made to comment, a look from Black had him looking down instead. 

Axe narrowed his sockets. “Don’t know where you’re planning on get’n somethin. Ain’t exactly swimmin in extras and you’ve refused to mend mine so I could give it to her.”  

Black scoffed. “YOU FAILED TO MENTION IT WAS FOR YOUR MARKED. YOU HAVE ALSO YET TO COMPLETE THE TASK I ASKED OF YOU. I DID NOT SEE THE POINT IN TURNING IN YOUR FAVOR WHEN MY OWN HAD BEEN UNMET.” 

“Been busy.” 

“AS WE’VE ALL.” 

Something shifted in the air, both of their eyelights brightening. Rus glared, moving closer to his brother. It took Crooks placing a hand on Axe’s shoulder for the two to back down. 

“Petty bastard.” 

“WHEN IT SUITS ME.” With a flourish of a hand and a half step back, he indicated the direction of the doors, continuing to meet Axe’s gaze. “NOW, I BELIEVE WE SHOULD ATTEMPT TO FIND SOMETHING MORE SUITABLE UNTIL NEXT WE MAKE PORT. SURELY YOU CAN AGREE IT WOULD BE IN EVERYONE’S BEST INTEREST.”  

“Fine, but we’re not leadin’.” You could hear the creak of Axe’s teeth. 

“OF COURSE.” With a tight turn, Black nodded, marching forward with Rus trailing behind with a wink. "AS YOU WISH." 

Axe refused to move at first, tugging his empty socket and prompting a sighing Crooks to nudge you both. "I Know You Don’t Like Him, But He Is Fair.” 

“Bastard never does anything fer free.” 

“And Yet, He Has A Point.”  

Neither you nor Axe was reassured but allowed him to guide you forward regardless. Crewmen brave enough to linger eyed your group with various degrees of emotion. When a dog monster growled, another was quick to slap the back of their head, nervously hunching at a glare from both of your skeleton friends. You tried not to show your fear or your growing limp as you passed, hoping Rus' long coat hid what you couldn’t. It didn't seem like a good idea to show weakness around others. The watchful eyes and aggressive postures spoke volumes to your already heightened nerves. Entering the ship did nothing to ease your discomfort.  

It felt cramped and pressing despite having more than enough space and light. Unlike the previous ship, several lanterns lit the expanse leaving no ominous shadows or darkened areas. You could easily see all the doors lining the walls as well as the beautifully carved and decorated windowed doors marking the end of the hall. Rus waited near the last door on the left.  

It was calm and warm, but you couldn’t shake off the feelings of danger. 

“Ya c’n go inside Darlin. Milord’s wait’n.” Rus stood to the side, motioning you inside the now open door. 

You looked to your companions. While Axe kept his eyelight on Rus, Crooks’ soft smile and nod gave you enough of a boost to cautiously cross the threshold. It smelled of lavender tinted with something you couldn’t quite place, the overall size relatively small. What looked like a narrow modified canopy bed connected to the wall was on your right. In front of you, under a single window, was a rather lovely desk intricately carved with polished knobs. To your immediate left was an open decorative chest shoved in the corner. Everything was of exquisite taste and quality, from the bedding and carvings on the furniture to the upholstery on the chair at the desk. The few trinkets left out were of fine gold or silver with glistening jewels. 

You jumped when the door closed behind you. Axe nor Crooks had made it inside. It had your stomach rolling with nerves. You did not anticipate having the others closed out. Having Black now between you and the only exit made it worse. His eyelights were too bright. 

Didn’t Rus call him a lord...? 

Your chest tightened at his approach, making sure to lower your gaze. 

“TRUE TO MY WORD, THAT HORROR’S GARMENT HAS BEEN MENDED. HAD I KNOWN IT WAS FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS, I NEVER WOULD HAVE HELD ONTO IT.” In his hands was a large linen shirt, neatly folded and dark in color. Holding it out, he offered it to you. “PUT IT ON. I WILL ADJUST IT AS NEEDED AFTER.” 

You froze, intently focusing on the simple article of cloth. Was he expecting you to do it here and now? In front of him? Wasn’t it bad enough you were laid bare in front of all those on the deck, or stars, when you pressed yourself against Blue? At least Axe had good reason to see you. Multiple! To willingly undress now in the presence of a man other than your husband...  

By the angel, what would Axe think of all this? 

Black must have noticed your silent panicked uncertainty when you didn’t immediately take it. Clearing his throat, something in his tone changed. “I SHALL, OF COURSE, REFRAIN FROM LOOKING WHILE YOU DO SO. YOU MAY LEAVE MY BROTHER’S COAT ON THE CHAIR WHEN YOU ARE READY.” 

It was hard not to squirm. While that was greatly appreciated, it still felt uncomfortable. Could you trust his word? You hardly knew the man. Perhaps things may have felt different if the room wasn’t quite so stifling or the door hadn’t been shut so suddenly. 

Luckily, heavy thumps in the hall distracted Black enough for him to hand you the garment himself, squinting at the door behind him. He was just about to speak again when another set of thumps sounded, this time shaking the door. Growling, he finally turned when the muffled voices following the noise got angrier. 

You really didn’t want to do this right now. Not here. Not with all the uncertainties surrounding you.  

Taking a slow breath in, you let it out. The sooner you changed, the sooner you could be rid of these unsettling feelings. With unsteady fingers twitching against the fabric as you took one last glance at Black’s back. 

One more breath. 

The sound of your rattling bones was louder without the security of the coat. Placing it on the chair, you did your best to quickly dress.  

The feeling of fabric against your bones was surprisingly comforting as you pulled it over your head. True to Axe’s size, the shirt almost went to your knees. It was so large the fabric pooled on your much smaller frame and reminded you of the nightgowns you used to wear back at the manor. 

If only it wasn’t so short. 

Though your more private areas were covered, it was not good for a lady to show so much… leg. You tugged at the hem, the sleeves threatening to engulf your hands.  

“I’m dressed, my lord.” 

A calculated breath was your only answer before his eyelights found you, fuzzy with a slight warble. You had to second guess if you had seen them correctly, for the next moment they were back to their bright and sharp orbs. Getting closer, they traveled over you as he hummed, the heel of his boots clicking as he circled. If you had hair, it would have stood on end at the subtle brush of his hand against your back. 

“AS I EXPECTED.” 

You startled, yelping when he came around to lightly grip your hips. Instinctively, your hands came to your chest from the forwardness, sockets wide. He paid no mind, eyelights intent on the bunched fabric. He only let go to pull a satin rope from his pocket. 

You squeaked again when he reached around you to wrap it around your waist. 

“MUCH BETTER. HOWEVER," His gloved hands touched your elbows, slowly moving up your arms to grasp your hands for inspection. “YOUR MAGIC. IT IS MUCH TOO THIN…” He turned them over. “Hmmmmm. Knowing Him…” 

Your chest clenched. He was close enough you could feel his ambient heat and wisps of breath. 

Before Black could say or do anything else, his door nearly burst off its hinges, a very aggravated Axe forcing it open. Black pulled you into him with a snarl, eyelights vanishing with the click of his teeth. Stuck in a headlock was a disgruntled Rus, resigned to the hold around his neck. 

You didn’t know if you could physically handle any more stress.  

“BY THE ANGEL, YOU WILL REPLACE THAT LOCK IF YOU HAVE BROKEN IT!” 

Axe’s voice was low, grin tight as he took in the scene. “Don’t appreciate the closed door, Black. Hell ya think yer doin’ in here?” 

Black placed you behind him, grumbling a growl. “AS I STATED EARLIER, I HAVE GIVEN HER SOMETHING TO ADEQUATELY COVER HERSELF UNTIL WE CAN PROCURE SOMETHING MORE FITTING.”  

Axe narrowed his sockets at Black’s squared shoulders. For a split second, you could see the red orb of his eyelight flick over the man in front of you before it focused on you.  

“Sure that's all ya were doin’?” 

The fabric of Black’s gloves creaked. “IF YOU MUST KNOW, I WAS INSPECTING HER MAGIC FLOW. I’M NO EXPERT, BUT EVEN I CAN TELL IT’S RUNNING LOW. A MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION WOULD BE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU—” 

“I’ve been doin’ exactly what I need ta be. Don’t need ta explain myself either.” Rus stumbled into the room when Axe unceremoniously released him to motion to you. “Now, if yer done?” 

With a snarl, Black pointed a finger. “NOW SEE HERE YOU–” 

Instinctually, you reached out, stopping just before Black’s arm. “My lord, I!” You faltered at his abrupt attention, pulling back to dip your head in respect. “I thank you for your kindness, but I should return to my lord husband before any more misunderstandings occur.” 

His eyelights stuttered. “I, I BEG YOUR PARDON?” 

There was a beat of awkward silence before Axe broke into heavy laughter, the loudest and deepest you’ve heard from him. It was enough to warm your cheeks as he beckoned you out and away from the room. Black gaped, slack-jawed and sputtering as you passed. You were already being guided onto the deck by the time he was able to call out one last time from his doorway. 

“AXE! YOU WILL… THAT… YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” 

Axe only laughed harder, closing the doors behind you. 

The sun had mostly set by the time you stepped out into the humid sea air. You would have done anything in the past to be able to look up, out, and around but Axe was swift in guiding you down the main hatch. You didn’t want to linger longer than necessary anyway. 

You didn’t have Rus’s coat to hide under. 

You were grateful for the darkness once you were under. The lanterns were farther spread, some empty of light altogether. It helped ease your mind against the wandering eyes. Most gathered under the brightest lamps, playing cards at makeshift tables, drinking, and socializing while others lounged in hammocks hanging interspersed between the canons. While some watched you pass, Axe was surprisingly good at slipping through the darkest areas to avoid the unwanted attention.  

The closer you got to the front of the ship, the fewer people there were until you came upon barrels and crates stacked near and around an area quartered off by familiar heavy sheets. You could even recognize the stack you and Blue had hidden next to, the sheet on that side still halfway pulled down. Axe was kind enough to hold the flap for you to enter. 

Finally, you were able to relax the tension out of your shoulders and pained joints. You wanted to climb back into the hammock and rest your aching pelvis, maybe snuggle against Axe and his warmth. The way he moved about though had you gingerly sitting on his stool, setting it upright from where it had been knocked over. 

You wondered when that had occurred. What happened after you had been taken? 

... 

A quiet curse had you looking back at Axe as he re-fastened the makeshift wall. There were a few more rips in it than you remembered. If he had any sewing supplies, you would have to mend them. It was the least you could do as thanks. 

You let out a slow breath, peering down at your clenched fists. They were cold and stiff on your lap. Black had been interested in them. The lot of them had been interested in general, but he had seemed so focused. 

Your voice was soft, hesitant as you summoned the courage to speak. “Axe? I have so many questions, but I’m afraid… I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask.” 

Axe chuckled. “Don’t gotta be afraid with me, Dove. It’s good ta ask questions around here. The more ya know the better, good or bad. Don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise.” 

You picked at the hem of the shirt, smoothing it down as much as you could. “Is that true?" Axe simply grunted. Collecting yourself, you forced yourself to ask the questions burning your mind. "What is a Banthos? What does it mean to be one? And what did Black mean when he said my magic was too thin? I don’t have magic. I’m not… I’m not even a monster.” 

It was hard not to flinch when, from your peripherals, you saw him stop. His voice had become more serious but thankfully still soft.  

“The hell yer not. Listen, I don’t know what you’ve been told, where ya come from, or what ya been through. But you’re as much of a monster as the rest of us. You’re made of magic and hope just like me.” He came over to place your hand in his scarred one, taking a knee to look directly into your sockets. “We’re the same. Dust and all. It don’t matter about anything else. As fer your magic,” he rubbed his face with a frustrated sigh, “let me worry about that. Just know ya got it and I’m gonna make damn sure ta get it where it needs ta be.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that, but it sent a comforting feeling to your chest. He was always so warm. It reminded you of your mother.  

Nodding, you were about to ask about your first question when footsteps interrupted you. Axe stood, moving between you and the flap.  

“AXE, IT IS GETTING LATE. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF PREPARING SANS’ ROOM FOR THE LITTLE MISS. I HOPE YOU HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN.”  

Axe only slightly relaxed at the sound of Papyrus’ voice, not moving but calling out to the other skeleton. “I can take her when we’re ready. Just got a few–” he bristled when Papyrus entered and smiled down at you, hand twitching at his side –“more things ta take care of.” 

“AND WHAT MIGHT THAT BE SO I MAY HELP?” When Axe only grumbled, Papyrus took it upon himself to continue. “WELL, WHILE YOU FIGURE THINGS OUT, I SHALL MAKE SURE TO GET HER SAFELY TO HER NEW LODGINGS.” 

You both tensed. “Papyrus. Paps. At least let things settle before ya drag er away. You saw Sans. I don’t trust him.” 

Papyrus looked a little sheepish at the accusation. “I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN, BUT I HAVE FAITH THAT THIS WILL WORK. I MYSELF WILL KEEP AN EYE ON THINGS IF I MUST. He Means Well. NOT THAT, THAT IS AN EXCUSE FOR HIS TERRIBLE BEHAVIOR.” He came forward to place a hand on Axe’s shoulder, humble and pleading. “WON’T YOU AT LEAST TRUST ME?” 

You couldn’t place the look that crossed Axe’s face from the question, the red orb of his eyelight quaking until his free hand brushed the edges of his empty socket. “That’s cheat’n…” There was a heaviness to the silence.  

When Axe’s shoulders sagged, Papyrus gave him back his space. “All WILL BE WELL. I’M SURE OF IT.” 

You were uncertain as to what you needed to do, but before you could stand, Axe nudged you back down. With the reluctance of a stubborn cat, he then went about gathering items he had deemed yours, going so far as draping his favored blanket over your shoulders. When all was said and done, you were left with a surprisingly intricate box full of puzzles, Axe’s blanket, and an affectionate nuzzle to your neck.  

It was with a heavy heart and a glowing face that you eventually followed Papyrus back out into the darkness. 

You did your best to keep up with his long strides, missing Axe’s purposely slowed gait. You could feel the grinding strain on your pelvis and lower joints with each step. You focused on the clack of your feet to keep your mind off the aching. Papyrus was already several steps ahead of you when he got to the steps.  

Blessedly, he turned to wait for you. 

It was embarrassing how out of breath you had become from such a short distance, especially when you knew you didn’t technically need to breathe. You were even more so when Papyrus cocked his head to look you over with a contemplative hum. 

His smile was kind. “MY APOLOGIES MISS. I KNEW YOU WERE IN ROUGH SHAPE, BUT I HADN’T REALIZED…” He glanced up the steps. “PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR ME TO HELP.” 

Without so much as a warning, he picked you up and draped you across both of his arms. You almost dropped your box, squeaking in surprise as he ascended to the deck. Your mind and tongue had stopped working from the suddenness. Though Axe had carried you once before and had moved you a few times, you didn’t quite know what to think of this stranger picking you up so nonchalantly. It was as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him, smile just as polite and kind as before. 

With him carrying you, it took little time to cross the rest of the way back through the double doors and down to the end of the hall. Standing in front of the windowed doors, you were only jostled a little when he turned the knob. He used his boot to kick it open the rest of the way with a bang, making you flinch when the glass shook precariously. 

You thought you saw a flash of blue, but when you looked, there was nothing there but a railed raised platform with an extravagant-looking bed, windows lining the entirety of the back wall. 

You shuddered. It smelled overwhelmingly of snow and cold rain. 

Scrunching his nasal ridge, Papyrus walked around a heavy round table with a scattering of papers and a lantern. Stepping onto the platform, he carefully set you down, turning to furiously rip the blankets off the bed to ball and fling them across the room with a fwump. 

“FORGIVE MY IDIOT OF A BROTHER. I WILL BE HAVING A TALK WITH HIM ABOUT APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR LATER. FOR NOW, I’M AFRAID THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. AT LEAST THE BED IS EXCEPTIONALLY COMFORTABLE.” He put his hand down to pat the mattress. “IT IS A GIMBAL BED, MADE WITH LARGER MONSTERS IN MIND SO YOU WILL HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE AND WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE TIPPING OF THE SHIP.” 

When you didn’t move, he gently ushered you to sit before making his way to the windows. It was so dark now that the light from the lamp effectively turned them into mirrors. You were grateful, too afraid to look through them. To your relief, Papyrus closed the many curtains for each once. Once done, he gently took your box and stood at the end of the bed, bowing slightly from the waist. 

“I WOULD STAY TO HELP YOU SETTLE, BUT I UNFORTUNATELY HAVE OTHER DUTIES I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF AT THIS TIME. BUT DO NOT FEAR, I WILL MAKE SURE SOMEONE WILL BE BY IN THE MORNING TO BRING YOU SOME TEA AND BREAKFAST AND TO WELCOME YOU.” Walking away, he stopped to place your box on the table and extinguish the lantern. “SLEEP WELL MISS.”  

With a wave, he picked up the bundle of discarded blankets and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

… 

It was frightening, alone in the dark.

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

[writingoddess1125]

How You Dance Together

Zoro, Sanji, Buggy, Mihawk x GNReader

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Masterlist <<

Luffy

Can only do a weird 'Egyptian Dance' and erratic movements.

Luffy is no stranger to dancing in public- Maybe due to his boundless energy or constant desire to be moving he has always been one to want to constantly move.

With you however its even more so- as your weirdness matched his energy!

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Luffy screamed out as the music played and you soon joined it. Laughing like a banchee as well- Was there a reason to celebrate?

Nope

Did that mean you all were going to do it anyway

The two of you, like there was only one brain cell between you and it was lost without a man- Began to dance in sync with one other, doing your weird little arm movements and exaggerated steps that caused cackles and howls of laughter from the other crew mates.

Zoro

Dances only when drunk- And has no rhythm or direction.

You and Zoro stumble into your guys shared bedroom, the two of you still giggly from the evenings dinner and shared drinks.

"I told you id win~"

"Yes But still, a crate of liquor is hard for anyone to beat- Sanji included"

The greenette chuckled out as you roll your eyes and laugh as well, sliding Zoro against the bed as you stagger. Stumbling to open a window to allow some fresh air. Right as the sound of Brook starting to play back on deck sounded and drifted into the rooms below.

You feel the music almost imminently, the alcohol helping as well as you began to dance around the room. Closing your eyes to let the music take you.

Zoro looked at you, as the music blared and watched the way you danced around. Smirking himself as he rolled up from the bed swayed over to you to join in-

You opening an eye to see what could only be describes as a man getting eaten alive by ants. Random movements, a few kicks and random arm movement, A bubbled laugh leaving you as you decide to throw rhythm to the wind and join your lover in what could only be described as the worse dance of all time.

Sanji

Likes to sway side to side, close and personal

It had been an amazing date, finally after months and months of constant begs and flowers at your door youd finally agreed to go on a date with Sanji.

You didnt expect him to go so far with it however. It had started with a walk around Sumi Sumi Town which was a wonderful tourist destination (and had a great port to restock the ship), before going to different shops and then ending back at the ship for a gourmet meal- The two of you currently sipping wine while seated on desk with the lavish set up.

"I must say Sanji- I'm impressed. This has been one of the best dates ive ever been on" You admit with a smile, The man smiling brightly at you.

"Well Im glad, and also its not over just yet" He said witha wink as he stood up from the barrel seat and sauntered over to you. Extending a hand.

With a soft smile you take it and stand up, you glass of wine forgotten as you hear the soft sound of guitar, raising a brow as you glance behind Sanji to see Brook seated further away. A giggle bubbling in your chest as the two of you start a slow sway, Sanji taking the lead as his hand rested on your lower back. Humming softly to the tune.

Buggy

High energy with lots of shanty dancing and ass slapping

You and Buggy were still high off the adrenaline from the latest 'Show' Laughing as the two of you danced around each other.

"We finally found it!"

Buggy laughed as you held a single disk high in the air, a single clue to Captain Jack's lost treasure. It had been a fantastic grab and a step closer to Buggy's personal goal. Yours also-

"We are one step closer Bugs!" You cheer as the crew celebrated around you two, Buggy beginning to taunt invisible foes as he slapped his own ass making you laugh.

Buggy turns to you and started to do the same as everyone started to dance, Buggy slapping your behind playfully with his unnatural cackle. Sauntering side to side as he did so still dancing.

Mihawk

A gentle waltz and light ballroom dances

Mihawk watched you, There leaned against the balcony attached to the bedroom the two of you shared. You swaying your head slowly at the soft music he had coming from the record player.

You'd been a fitting addition, perfect in his eyes to have by his side. Both on the field and even now in his bedroom, after many years and time together. He still found himself enjoying moments like this, watching the soft sway of your hips as you looked over the island the two of you shared.

Perfection..

Setting his wine aside Mihawk stood up finally from his chair as he walked over to you. You felt him before hearing him, a hand sliding across your lower back as you looked up to see him sliding his over hand down your shoulder to your waiting hand.

Gently pulling you from the railing he turned you in his arms and began to carefully dance with you to the gentle music. A basic waltz across the balcony floor which put a smile to your lips. The gentle touch, the scent of his cologne and wine mixed together.

[homiesexuallaj]

Red Ginseng

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x reader

Warnings/Genre: a sex pollen fic <3, porn with plot, foreplay, semi-heavy petting, fingering (fem receiving), unprotected p in v (non recommended), fluff, smut, size kink if you squint, let me know if I missed anything, not proofread because I'm lazy

———

You’d worked with the Mandalorian for a few years now. What started out as some commissioned help had developed into some lifelong work. You were good with a blaster and excellent with knifes, which you assumed in the beginning was why the Mandalorian kept you around. Now, you think he keeps you around simply for the company.

The Mandalorian is a many of few words, even this long into your partnership. He prefers to shoot first, ask later. He wasn’t also too fond of physical contact. You only felt the Mandalorian’s touch when he needed to pass you through the small hallway under the cockpit of the Razor Crest. This ship really wasn’t meant for two people..

This week, or two at this point, you’d been brought along to a forest-y planet that you couldn’t remember the name of in hopes of finally catching a bounty that the Mandalorian has been hunting for about a month now. This planet was hot and sticky. Leaves, vines, and other foliage practically soaked you when you just barely brushed past a leaf. It was irritating at this point, never being dry.

You let out a loud sigh, stomping over dead leaves and slapping away wet leaves. You were soaked through your clothes. You internally cringed at pealing your leather pieces from your body tonight. Just before a complaint crawls up your throat, an arm cut you off. You looked at the Mandalorian with scrunched eyebrows and annoyed eyes.

He only gestured ahead of you with his head.

You followed the gesture, peaking between your cover of leaves.

Ahead of you, in a shady clearing, is your’s and the Mandalorian’s bounty. It was a male Gungan with burnt orange skin and green eyes. With him was a small male Neimoidian with gray skin and gold eyes. Both were huddled around a smoking campfire, and were sopping wet and obviously malnourished. Runaway life seemed to be harder than they thought.

The Mandalorian caught your attention when he moved the arm down from in front of you.

You looked up at him, waiting to tell you what to do.

He gestured to the right with his head, indicating to circle around and trap the runaways in their clearing.

You headed off and around, careful to barely brushing by foliage and tiptoe over sticks. You positioned yourself facing the back of the Neimoidian. And you watched as your companion strutted into the clearing, the leaves of his cover dripping water onto his already shiny armor.

At the sound of a breaking twig, the runaways snapped their head in the direction of the Mandalorian. They both stood quickly, looking around nervously.

“A Mandalorian!” Exclaimed the Gungan. “What a surprise!” There was obvious panic on the creature’s face. “I didn’t know Mandalorian’s resided on this planet.”

“Perhaps he can show us to a nearby village,” The neimoidian hoped.

The Mandalorian only stayed quiet, waiting for the two to get their panicky blabbering over with. Once deemed quiet for long enough, he spoke.

“Via order of the leader of the planet Naboo,” The man started. “You two have a bounty placed on your head to be brought straight back to Her Majesty’s palace.”

“We can’t go back!” The gungan exclaimed.

The Mandalorian did not react. He only started walking towards them.

The creatures panicked and ran straight for you, the only clear way out of the semi-dry clearing. You jumped out, stopping the runaways in their path. You grabbed the small Neimoidian, trying to restrain him.

His partner, the Gungan, ran straight at you. He pushed himself against you and the Neimoidian, knocking all three of you over. It was a slick battle of trying to grab and get up at the same time.

There was a high-pitched zippering sound that caught your ears and the Gungan gasped, and you watched as he was dragged from the pile and back towards your partner.

The tussle got easier again, with only you going against one. The small Neimoidian fought and squirmed, but his small stature made it an easy fight for you. You restrained him with ease, knocking him to the ground and holding him down back and arm twisted around his back and a knee across both of his legs.

You heard a battle-ish cry and looked up.

The Gungan had leapt from the ground and onto the Mandalorian. The Gungan used his bottom half to grab onto the upper half of the Mandalorian and send them both tumbling down a small hill and into some foliage. Squabbling and scrambling was heard before the Gungan crawled back up into the clearing. He took a gasp of air before there was a shot of something and he fell to the ground.

You’d thought for a moment that the Mandalorian had killed him out of frustration, which wouldn’t have been the first time.

The Mandalorian came out from the foliage, his shoulders heaving as he caught his breath. His chest place and lower left part of his helmet was covered in this sticky looking red pollen, no doubt from a flower or two. As you looked him over, you saw a blaster in his right hand.

“Only a stunner,” The Mandalorian said. “Don’t worry.”

Without another word, he pointed the stunner at the Neimoidian and shot before the creature could get in his pleas. He went limp with sleep, finally.

You both picked up your respective bounties and hauled them over your shoulders. You made your way through the foliage and towards the ship. After you figured enough time had passed for the Mandalorian to catch his breath you started talking.

“What is that stuff?” You asked, hoping he knew that you were talking about the pollen.

“Pollen from a flower I’ve never seen before,” The Mandalorian answered, his voice slightly gruff. “It got under my helmet.”

“I hope there’s no side affects to inhaling the stuff,” You wondered.

“I hope not,” Your partner sounded disgruntled.

You thought back to the time where you tripped and fell into a garden of flowers you’d never seen before. All was fine and dandy until about halfway through that job. You’d becoming loopy and tripped over your feet about every other step. There was no way you’d be able to help the Mandalorian now, so he hauled you over his shoulder, much like he’d done to the Gungan now, and brought you back to the Razor Crest. He sat you down in your bunk, which was one of two bunks in the Razor Crest, and told you very sternly to stay. And off he went.

You don’t remember what you said during that time, but you hope it was nothing too embarrassing.

Once you two arrived at the ship, the Mandalorian encased both bounties in a block of carbonate and slowly got settled into the ship for the night. The Mandalorian disappeared in the refresher to shower and clean his armor and you wandered into the shared space of yours and the Mandalorian’s impromptu shared closet/bedroom space.

It was a small nook in a semi-hidden corner in the bottom half of the Razor Crest. The only light over here was a small lamp you’d bought for the space and the dim lights from your bunks. There were shelves and racks here for clothes, towels, blankets, shoes, and other necessities.

Taking advantage of the limited time of the Mandalorian showering and cleaning his armor, you peeled off your soaked clothes and limited pieces of leather armor. It was more a struggle that it needed to be, but soon enough you were free from your uncomfortably wet prison and it was a wet pile on the ground. You changed into some looser, brown cloth pants and a large white sleeveless shirt, with some socks and a knife around your waist to accompany you. You patted your hair dry with a towel before brushing it out and picking up your wet clothes and towel. You hung the clothes on a nearby rack that was below a vent in the ship, hoping to dry them off before the day tomorrow.

You sighed, stretching a bit. The hiss of the refresher door opening caught your attention and you turned.

The Mandalorian made his way from the steaming doorway, clad in some now shiny steel armor.

“Feel better?” You asked, still observing him.

He hummed in affirmative, making his way past you and up the ladder to the cockpit.

You followed.

When you found you footing on the cold, metal floor of the cockpit, you saw that the Mandalorian was already typing in coordinates for Naboo.

“We’re not taking off already, are we?” You asked, coming up beside him to watch as he pressed buttons.

“No,” The Mandalorian answered. “But I would like to get up early and take off as soon as possible.”

“Why? Is this planet to wet for you?” You teased. “Or are there too many weird, stinky flowers.”

The Mandalorian only looked at you, before turning his attention back to the buttons so he could finish what he was doing. Once done, you noted that the armored man hobbled his way over to his captain’s chair and groaned as he sat, subtly clutching his right side.

Upon not so close inspection, you could see blood seeping out from his black flight suit and pouring over his metal belt, the black cloth damp across the ribcage on the Mandalorian’s right side.

“Mando, you can’t even take the time to stitch yourself up in the shower?” You scolded lightly.

He knew what you were talking about immediately, “It wasn’t bleeding in the shower.”

“Mando.” You scolded.

He only sighed.

“C’mon,” You gave a sigh of your own after a few heartbeats. “Let’s get you stitched up.”

You made your way down to the second level of the Razor Crest first, knowing that the Mandalorian wouldn’t have to take much convincing to follow you down.

While you dug around for a medpack, the Mandalorian sat down on a crate, awaiting your instruction.

Once you found a medpack, you drug over another crate and set that medpack on top of that, opening it and making sure it had all the supplies you needed.

“Alright, armor off,” You order around first.

The Mandalorian unclasped his chestplate and abdomen armor from his torso. Then he removed his cape, setting all pieces to the side. You did the next parts yourself.

You pushed up his shirt and slowly inched down the tight cloth he wore around his mid to lower abdomen until you had clear view of the cut that made its home on the Mandalorian’s right side.

The cut was long and jagged, looking like whatever cut him had torn its way forcefully through the layers of cloth and into the skin. The Mandalorian was lucky that whatever cut him didn’t cut him deep, but it was still needed-stitches deep.

Before continuing, you went and grabbed a washrag and wet it in the refresher’s sink before settling back down at the Mandalorian’s side and wiping off the blood that had smudged around the wound, revealing the golden skin that hid under the armor.

It wasn’t the first time seeing the Mandalorian’s skin, having needed to stitch him up a few times now, but it still caught you by surprise, especially when you could see the muscle rippling under his flesh with every move. It was still distracting, especially as the Mandalorian stretched an arm over his head so you could work with more area.

You shook your head slightly, willing away your distracted brain. After a few more wipes against the skin, all blood was gone. You grabbed a bottle of medical alcohol and damped the rag with the liquid, wiping and the dabbing the wound with that now, hoping to kill off any chance of infection. And next, the stitches. You grabbed a sterile needle from the medpack and situated a thing of thread through the eye. You glanced up at the Mandalorian, anxiety making you nervous.

“Ready?” You asked, giving the Mandalorian a few moments to compose himself.

He nodded.

The Mandalorian never really reacted when you stitched him up, but the tense muscles and the clenching of fists was the tale tell sign of discomfort and pain.

Upon the first stab of the needle, the Mandalorian sucked in a breath and you heard the squeak of leather as the Mandalorian clenched his fists.

“Breath, Mando,” You told him. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

It was a slow process of stitching up the jagged wound, but in order to close it properly you had to take your time. Before long, you were done. You tied the stitch off and cut the thread with some small sheets you kept in the medpack. In order to keep the wound clean, you packed some firm cotton around the wound and wrapped some gauze around his abdomen to both keep out germs and hold the cotton in place. You gathered up the medical supplies and turned to put most of it back into the medpack, and threw the used and unclean stuff, like the needle, away. After getting the area situation again, you crowded into the Mandalorian’s space, checking that the gauze was tight, but not too tight.

“Okay,” You patted the Mandalorian down. “I’ll have to check the wound and change the bandages tomorrow morning.”

He nodded.

To check, you poked around the wound again, to make sure there was no excess bleeding. Upon touching a tender spot, the Mandalorian groaned and grabbed onto your waist, the closest thing for him to grab.

On instinct, you jerked your hand away and froze at the contact. A shiver erupted from the grasp and traveled outwards through your body and a hint of heat bubbled in your lower abdomen. It was still moment before your touch sense picked up on something else, how hot his hands were. Not on an attractive scale, but on a temperature scale. From the scarce touches that the Mandalorian provided you, you knew that his hands were abnormally hot. Without thinking, you reached down between the Mandalorian’s legs and placed the inside of your wrist on the man’s upper thigh, noting that the heat radiating through the pants was abnormal as well.

Full on concern, you spoke, “Mando, you’re running a temperature!”

At your words and touches, the Mandalorian adjusted his hips, dragging your attention to the tense cotton between his legs.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” You tore your hand away from his thigh. “I-I was just checking your temperature, I promise! When I was little my mom used to check my temperature this way!”

The Mandalorian only groaned in response, gripping your waist tighter and hanging his head, which ended up resting on your stomach.

“But I think you’re sick, Mando,” You held your arms up and away from the man’s body, not sure where to put them.

The armored man only groaned again before a strained voice broke its way through the static of his modulator, “Hot. It’s so hot..”

“Okay umm,” You hesitated. “Do I have permission to take the rest of your armor and shirt off? It should help you cool down.”

You felt the Mandalorian nod, so you got to work with unclasping his shoulder and forearm armor and setting the pieces on the ground. Carefully you inched the t-shirt off and over his helmet, and found out that the overheating man wore two shirts and inched off the long sleeved turtleneck he wore to keep his skin concealed from the world. And finally you took off his gloves. With all these clothes on, you wondered when he had the time to get sun and make his skin such a golden tan. It had to have been when you’re not around, or busy with something inside the ship.

The Mandalorian still rested his head against your stomach and his hands had wandered down from your waist to your thighs, gripping the flesh.

Letting your eyes wander before the Mandalorian sat back up, you noted that his back was wide and rippled with muscle at every breath. The skin was littered with scars, big and small, short and long. The perks of being a bounty hunter, I guess.

You tried to keep your hands to yourself, you really did, but the temptation to rest your hands upon the Mandalorian's shoulders was too much. You gave into the temptation and the man jumped below you before relaxing under your touch.

After a few more heaving breaths, the Mandalorian sat up and looked up at you. You could feel his intense gaze boring into you from underneath a heavily tinted visor of his helmet. His large hands squeezed at the fat of your thighs again before he tried to speak.

"I need you," The man croaked out.

"Wha-?" You were shellshocked at the confession.

"Please," He practically begged. "I can't-"

He could barely finish his sentence before a shivered flowed throughout his body and a groan forced itself passed the Mandalorian's vocal chords.

"Ok-okay," You agreed, nervous. "What-what do I do?"

You could barely get the words from your mouth before the Mandalorian stood at his full height. You hands fell from his shoulders and he gripped your own, his large hands engulfed the area. Gently but urgently, the tall man pushed you backwards. You had no idea where you were going until your surroundings became overcast and you were dead-legged by a firm object behind you. You fell and the plush surface of an unmade bed caught you. The overwhelming smell of manly musk and leather were tell-tale signs that you'd been pushed into the bottom bunk of the small sleeping lofts, the Mandalorian's bunk.

Metal sliding against metal filled the small area and the bunk became dark, too dark to see. You could hear a small "hiss" from somewhere above you and a "clank" of metal being dropped to the ground.

A hand patting around on the side of your face, fingers gently finding their way around. A finger found your lips and within a heartbeat it was replaced by a pair of lips. You jumped in surprise, grabbing onto the body that hovered over you, meeting thick biceps.

The Mandalorian leaned down onto his forearms, one hand resting against the side of your face. He kissed and kissed, switching between quick pecks or smooches. A shiver passed over his body and you heard a groan and a quiet "smack" of a mouth opening. You met the man's open mouth with one of your own, and the Mandalorian practically plunged his tongue into your mouth.

Your tongues danced and teeth found lips, tugging slightly. The Mandalorian pulled away for a moment before nosing his way over the right side of your face and burying himself into your neck. He started out with kissing all over, searching for sweet spots, before leaving open mouthed kisses all over. He accompanied the wet kisses with nips of teeth and the sucking of skin.

At a particularly harsh nip you gasped, "Mando!"

"Din," The Mandalorian breathed out.

"Huh?" You questioned through a foggy brain.

"My name," The Mandalorian answered. "It's Din."

You nodded, hoping that the Mandalorian, Din, would feel your response.

Din moved over to the left side of your neck, giving this side the same treatment.

You felt one of his arms move and you felt a tug at your waistline. A quiet hiss of fabric rubbing against fabric told you that Din was untying the tie at the waist of your pants. You let it happen, gladly. After the loosening of the tie, you could feel your pants and underwear being pushed down. You helped Din out, lifting your hips and using your hands to help shimmy the clothes down your legs. You kicked the fabric away. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs at the cool air against your center, but the body between your legs prevented that. You jumped at the feeling of foreign fingers exploring your lower lips. They traced the skin before dipping into the slit and feeling up the wet flesh hidden away. Din's fingers danced all around, feeling you up and almost trying to mesmerize the new area of flesh. They traveled up and up before skimming against your clit. You hissed at the contact, gripping Din's left bicep tighter. He doubled back, finding your sweet spot.

"Here?" The man asked, rubbing your clit with two fingers.

"Yeah," You breathed out.

The warmth and presence of a body left you as Din sat up. His fingers began rubbing and circling themselves around and on your clit. His other hand gripped at your hip, attempting to keep you still.

You gripped at the wrist of the man's left hand, the one gripping your hip. You whined and moaned, squirming below the man. Due to the special attention and desperation, it didn't take you long to climb to your peak. Your pelvis tightened and tightened.

"You gonna cum?" Din asked, his own arousal evident in his voice.

"Y-yes, sir!" You answered.

Din kept the same pace and pressure and before long you were crying out and squirming. Din kept his fingers moving, helping you ride out your orgasm. But the man kept moving, driving you into overstimulation. You tried to pull Din's hand away from your clit but he captured both your wrists in his left hand and kept moving his hand until you tried to close your legs.

You took a deep breath and relaxed, skin cold due to a light sheen of sweat. You tried to catch your breath and Din pulled his fingers away from your clit. Only a few seconds after did you feel a prodding against your vaginal hole. Din's already wet fingers and your soaking arousal made it easy for Din to edge his one finger inside of you. It wasn't hard to do and you felt his finger, whichever one it was, press itself against your cervix. The Mandalorian gave a few gentle pumps of his finger, bringing out gasps and moans from you.

You yelped a bit, Din's finger pressing uncomfortably against your cervix.

"Two-" You tried to speak between breaths. "Two fingers."

A grunt answered you and Din pulled his singular finger out before pressing two against your opening. He slid in with ease. It was uncomfortable at first, but after a few squelching pumps of the man's fingers you relaxed.

Sensing your relaxed state, Din pulled his fingers from your cunt, which caused a noise of protest to sound from your chest. You could hear the shuffling of clothes and the drop of fabric onto the floor. Din sat you up and moved around you, laying down and taking up your place on the bed. You felt hands grab at you and urge you in a certain direction.

You followed his hands, moving up and over to straddle the Mandalorian. You were surprised to find that the man had already discarded his armor, pants, and boxers. You hovered over Din's pelvis and felt around for his cock. Your searching hand skimmed over Din's dick and you heard the man take in a sharp breath. You grabbed the member, taking note of it's girth, length, and a vein that traveled up the side. You adjusted your body and pressed your vaginal hole over DIn's dick. The head stretched you out a bit more than his fingers and you whimpered at the feeling. A few more presses down and the head practically popped into you. You sighed, sinking down more until you and Din were pelvis to pelvis.

"Comfortable?" Din asked, obviously breathless below you.

"Umm it's-" You tried to get words past you tongue. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Here," Din gripped your hips and forced you down more onto his pelvis.

The movement caused Din's cock to press wonderfully and overwhelmingly against your cervix. You cried out, gripping onto Din's biceps again.

At the adjustment, Din started shallowly thrusting up into you. His hands wandered up from your hips to your abdomen. He gripped your loose t-shirt and pulled it up and off your body. Both of you were now completely naked.

"Gods..," Din breathed out.

He gripped your hips once again, urging you to move on top of him. The meeting of your pelvises was made apparent by a slapping sound. You couldn't help but throw your head up, eyes squeezing shut. You still gripped onto Din's biceps. Din groaned and gasped below you, growling as his thrusts became harsher.

In an almost too-quick-to-process movement, Din gripped your hair into a ponytail in one of his hands and pulled you down by an arm around your shoulder blades. He smashed your lips together so hard to almost hurt. He opened his mouth almost instantly, invading your mouth with his tongue. You wrapped your arms around his head and gripped his hair. His messy, wavy hair caught you by surprise, having never actually seen or felt his hair. You wondered what color it was.

The Mandalorian pulled you from your thoughts when he pulled away and buried his face into the left side of your neck, resuming his previous kissing and nipping. At a rather harsh nip, you pulled the man's hair and Din groaned.

Almost out of nowhere, Din's thrusts up into you sped up and lost their rhythm. His body tensed and you inferred that Din was getting close to his own orgasm. You could feel his heartbeat speed up below you and his breathing become ragged.

"Bite me," You begged.

Din made a questioning noise below you.

A moan forced itself as a sob from your throat and you begged pitifully, "Bite me- bite me- bite me!"

Din listened to your cock drunk babbling and sunk his teeth into your neck. With a muffled groan and the tightening of his jaw, Din reached the peak of his orgasm. Slowly, his harsh thrusts slowed and he relaxed, still keeping himself buried in you. The man unsunk his teeth and let your hair go, letting his head fall back into a pillow and wrapping his other arm around you.

You relaxed into Din's sweaty, hot body. You waited until you caught your breath before speaking.

"You feel better?" You asked.

"Yes," Din answered with a sigh. "Thank you."

You responded with a hum.

"Can we..," Din hesitated. "Can we stay like this for a little bit?"

"Of course," You tell Din. "For as long as you want."

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: A debt owed, a debt repaid

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Who are you?”

Veshmal looked across the holographic table at the armored female human who stood stoically at the center of his war room. He was unsure of who the human was but they certainly not who he had requested a meeting with.

Three hours ago he had sent a communication to the human warship holding high anchor and demanded the leader of the human contingent come to his command bunker and explain his forces recent actions. Three hours of being kept waiting within the bustling noise of his command bunker until finally a human arrived only for it to not be the leader.

“I am Sarah Noron, Herald of the Order.” The human spoke through their helmet. The audio broadcasters gave their voice a robotic overtone causing several passing aides to react startled. “The master regrets that he could not be present, but wishes to pass along his sympathies as other matters took precedent.”   

“Other matters took precedent?” Veshmal repeated in a snide tone as his anger swelled.

Raising his hand to an elaborate pin on his uniform depicting two serpents devouring a giant bird creature Veshmal announced “I am the Supreme Commander of this invasion! At my command are millions of warriors spread across this entire planet and thousands of ships in orbit comprising the largest military this quadrant has ever seen!”

Unimpressed, the human warrior looked down at Veshmal. “I assure you that I speak with the authority of my master-“

“That is not the point!” Veshmal interrupted. He strode across the holographic table projecting numerous offensives across the world at came before the human. His sabre slapping lazily against his leg as he stood before them and jabbed his clawed finger against their armor. The taloned finger was not enough to pierce the dense metal but left a small scratch as he continued his beratement. “I asked for your master, not his mouth piece!”

The human warrior made no response but those watching could see as well as hear as they clenched their fists tightly.

“What do you wish to speak of?” the human finally spoke; their voice thick with restraint.

With a snap of his fingers one of the waiting military staff approached the table and entered in several keys. The charts for ongoing operations slowly vanished one by one to be replaced with a single operation dated to have happened earlier.

“Earlier today you broke off your pursuit of retreating enemy forces along the hemlock ravine. A full battalion of motorized and armored vehicles were able to then safely retreat across the only bridge to span the divide before they blew it up behind them.”

Turning to face the herald, if they showed any embarrassment they gave no sign of it.

“Why did you ignore your orders and let the enemy escape?”

“For clarification,” the human began, “they were not “Order’s” but a request made to my master to which he agreed.”

The sheer disrespectfulness of the human’s blunt response stunned several of the gathered officers and made Veshmal turn a shade of green of anger as the human continued.

“For repairing one of our warships some time ago your people earned the gratitude of the Order of the Fallen Sun, and we have come to answer that debt by aiding you here in this campaign. That does not mean however that we are your lackies to be ordered about.”

Before Veshmal could reply with a no doubt harsh insulting remark one of his underlings stepped in.

“To which we are grateful for your assistance,” they said hastily, “but can you still explain your actions?”

To the gathered onlookers the human nodded and pointed to the hologram.

“Acting on the intel you provided, our forces converged on the enemy and hounded their rearguard as our mobile units sought to overtake them and cut off their approach to the bridge.”

The hologram indeed showed human forces isolating and obliterating several rearguard formations that had broken away from the main body to slow down the order’s pursuit while several prongs of airborne vehicles carried infantry detachments to secure the bridge.

“As we came within visual range of the main body of the enemy forces however we soon discovered that the majority of the contacts were civilian vehicles in nature.”

“They were most likely stolen by fleeing soldiers to make up for their own loses in machinery.” Veshmal remarked, but the human shook their head.

“Had that been the case we would have continued with our mandate and obliterated them; but upon further scanning they were shown to be occupied by women, children, sick, and injured who are not designated as combat effectives.”

Tapping their own headset a small projection emerged from the human helmet and overlapped the table’s to show a live feed taken from one of the approaching aircraft meant to cut off the bridge. Several vehicles were largely open top cabins showcasing that there were indeed mostly women and children present. Several other vehicles had been marked with large strange glyphs that signified “Medical” in the enemy’s native tongue indicating they were noncombatants.

“Upon learning of this the information was relayed to my master who canceled the attack order. We then broke off and shadowed the retreating forces until they detonated the bridge.”

No one said anything as the human finished their summary. They were too afraid to incur their commander’s wrath as Vashmal rounded on the human.

“So you admit to ignoring your orders!?”

“Again,” the human began to correct, “they were a requ-“

“Silence!”

In a swift motion Veshmal drew his saber and swung it in a wide arch across the breastplate of the human’s armor. Unlike the taloned finger the weapon carved a small grove across the armor and deformed the Order’s symbol that had adorned the armor.

No one was surprised or sought to intervene with the supreme commander’s action, as it was customary for a supreme commander to kill a subordinate who had failed them. What was strange was that the human made no move to defend themselves. Many had seen firsthand that the human’s reaction time and combat efficiency were well above the standard soldier so they had expected for the human warrior to dodge or even shatter the saber outright with their bare hands. Yet they did nothing as Veshmal continued.

“I did not care that there were civilians present, I wanted that armored battalion destroyed! Annihilated! Vaporized! Do you not understand!?”

Veshmal waited, with saber still in hand, for the human to answer but none came.

The room was now silent as all ceased their activities to watch the unfolding dramatics as the human tilted their head down slightly and brought up an armored hand and felt it over the fresh grove. They ran their fingers across the entire length of the grove that had been churned from their armor before looking back up at the still fuming Veshmal.

“So you admit that you knew there were civilians present when you requested us to attack?”

“Of course I knew!” Veshmal retorted loudly. “There isn’t a single action on this world that does not happen without my-“

It was Veshmal’s turned to be interrupted as the human warrior Sarah reached into a combat pouch and withdrew a metal disk and casually threw it to the ground. The disk clattered loudly before expanding three times its size and hummed with energy.

From it a projection sprung a blue hologram of a warrior easily twice the size of Sarah sitting atop an equally large throne. They wore no helmet and for those watching few could look on for long as this human’s face was horrific to look upon.

Bands of iron stapled themselves across scars while a portion of their lip was missing revealing the teeth behind. One eye shun with the glow of a misty morning’s dew while the other was that of burning embers of a dying flame.

Veshmal straightened himself as he finally had gotten what he had requested; an audience with the human order’s master.

“What news my herald?” the warrior’s voice boomed. “Has the matter been resolved?”

Hands emerged from off screen handing the master datapads of which the master scanned the contents rapidly and gave either a nod or shake in response before handing them back. “I must admit I long for the days when I was youthful and full of fire.” He chuckled as he continued reading datapads. “Oh to feel the breeze of a shredder round nearly splattering your head would be such a fine sensation compared to the monotony of paperwork.”

As if noticing something finally the master held up a hand and the datapads withdrew as the master turned his full attention to the projection.

“Why is your armor damaged?” they said. “It was not there when you left the ship. Has the command center come under attack?”

Before Veshmal could interject Sarah answered her master.

“The Supreme Commander struck me with his weapon after I relayed the reasons for our cessation of attack on the armored battalion.”

She turned to look directly at Veshmal. “Reasons the Supreme Commander was well aware of beforehand but neglected to inform us of.”

“That is entirely-“ Veshmal began before being silenced when the master held up a hand.

Reclining back into their throne the master cusped his forehead in thought as he contemplated what had just been said.

“Herald…” he finally spoke as he continued to stroke his head.

“Yes master?” Sarah replied without hesitation.

“Order all of our forces to cease operations and prepare for embarkation back to the ship. We are done with this war.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Veshmal finally spoke up. “You owe us a debt and you swore to assist us! This war is far from over!”

“Indeed we did.” The master replied as he turned his full attention to Veshmal who took a step back when the pair of human eyes stared at him with pure malice from the projection.

“It is against our order’s tenants to attack the defenseless intentionally and by knowingly lying to us on this matter you have broken the trust of our pact.”

“Therefore our debt has been paid as we will not seek retribution for this deception.” The master finished.

“It is done.” Sarah confirmed as she rejoined the conversation. “All units are disengaging and returning to rally points now. We shall be offworld within the next two hours.”

The master nodded but kept his gaze fixated on Veshmal.

“Now, regarding the matter of your attempted murder of my herald..” the master continued. “I would suggest everyone listening to this conversation to remain where they are and do not interfere. It would be wise to not let your hands drift to your weapons with what is to come.”

Not fully understanding what the human leader was saying, they watched in confusion as the human warrior placed her weapons on the ground and cracked her knuckles in ear splitting fashion.

“Make it quick and then return.” The master addressed his Herald. “The foulness of this war is now a stench I find most…..infuriating.”

With that the projection ceased and the room was left quiet once more.

“What did he mean-“ Veshmal had just began to utter when Sarah’s fist grabbed hold of the saber and snapped it in two.

The Supreme commander had just enough time to look bewildered before she brought the shattered remains of the saber still clenched in her fist straight through his chest and out his back.

Vashmal collapsed like a puppet whose strings had finally been cut, grasping fruitlessly at the wound as he watched the human herald retrieve their weapons and stride out of the command center.  All those present frozen in fear and horror at the swiftness of their leader’s death refusing to even treat the wound medically until the human had finally left the room; but by then their leader was beyond any means of treatment and those who remained now were left the ponderous task of what to do next.

[pedge-page]

Plushies 4 - Teddy

Joel Miller x F!Reader - Yet ANOTHER plushie fic, follows Cluster

Plushies Series Masterlist

Can be read as standalone

Summary: Joel buys you two toys: a giant teddy bear from Costco. And a strap-on dildo.

Warnings: omg where to begin- stuffed animal masturbation, stuffed animal fucking, humping, 69-ing a stuffed bear, sucking dildo, dildo riding, anal play, anal sex, double penetration, pet names, daddy kink, slight cuck!Joel behavior, pussy slapping, finger fucking, vaginal fluids, language, Joel's plush obsession gone too far

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He's shopping in Costco when he sees the absolute behemoth of a Teddy Bear. Standing 7 feet tall, 75 pound of cotton belly, AND $100 off? Joel stares up at the thing and instantly knows he needs to get it for his girl. He doesn't care how ridiculous he looks lugging it into the shopping cart, women in the store eying him curiously as he checks out, and the jealous stares of children in the parking lot as hauls it in bed of the truck and speeds off home.

It just needs one more accessory and then it will be perfect.

-

Joel swipes his arm over the neatly made bed of squishmellows, not thinking twice as they clutter to the ground. He fetches big Teddy over his shoulder and slams its soft booty on the bed. The thing practically takes up the entire surface.

He hears you putting your purse and keys down on the counter in the kitchen. Quickly, he fashions his accessory to the bear before stepping away right as you open the door and are surprised to see him.

And a big fucking teddy bear on your bed.

"Joel! Oh my god!" You squeal giddily.

"You like it? This is Teddy's big brother. Like me"

"So the teddy you bought me for Valentine's day and I've buried in my pussy is...Tommy?"

Joel's hand twitches by his side as he stares at the bear. "Ok, This is Papi Teddy instead."

You kiss him on the cheek before jumping on the bed, legs spread like a starfish to latch yourself to the side. Joel laughs at how small you are compared to the monster. You wrap yourself around its side and smush your face into its dark soft curls, running your hands all over its body thinking about how Joel's hair is just as fluffy.

You go to sit in its lap to make Joel take a pic when you pause, noticing the hard thing between its chubby thighs.

"Joel. Why does this teddy have a strap on dildo?"

"Because he's a mature Teddy, baby."

Why can't I just have a normal fucking boyfriend who punches my stuffed animals' faces, you think to yourself.

"You spent $500 on a giant bear just so I could fuck it?"

"No. Of course not!" He exclaimed, hands on his hips. "It was on sale for $399."

"How much was the strap on?"

"... ok that was $79 with $20 shipping. Anyway, since you wanna fuck it so bad, go ahead. I didnt say shit. How did I end up with such a horny little girl?"

Sometimes you just wanted to slap him in his smug face.

-

Being such a hornly little girl (with your equally perverted boyfriend) is exactly how you found yourself in your current position, wearing cute lacy lingerie and bent over the enormous leg of the teddy bear, hand wrapped around it's silicon pink cock as you took it in and out of your mouth.

"Look so good swallowing Teddy's cock." Joel says. He sat in the chair opposite of the bed and watched you, leaning forward to get every detail of the way you slobbered all over it. "Like it when ya make a mess like that."

You hummed contently, bobbing your head to suck on the tip, giving Joel the show he wanted. It was like being front seat to his own private porno. He's been resisting touching himself, his bulge pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

You pussy throbbs with need at the scene, the pink jeweled plug Joel had placed in your rear twitching each time you felt the tip of the cock gag your throat.

"Straddle his face baby. Let Teddy get a taste of that pussy." You do as he says, pulling your lips off of him to position yourself reverse cowgirl on the enormous plush. Your thigh swings over his massive head, pressing your hips down.

"Oooooohhhhhhh, fuck Joel," you moan when his giant snout makes contact with your clit, mounting it like a horse.

"Not me, princess. Tell 'im."

"Ahhhh, OH , oh God teddy. Love riding your f-face."

Joel humms in content, watching you arch your back with each grind against the plush. "Get back to swallowin that cock with those pretty lips. Show him what a real fuckin nasty girl you are."

You push your hair back with one hand and grab the base of dildo with the other, wrapping your lips around the tip before inching it deeper. Your hips continued to hump the bears face, his massive nose parting your thong, through your folds. A guilty wetness smears against the fluff, its curls darkening to Joel's likeness from your juices.

"Yeahhh, oh baby, you should see yourself right now. Gagging on a big fuckin bear cock. My slutty little whore. Takin it so deep—yeah thats it— all the way. Put 'im in your throat."

You gagg around the plastic, holding your head there as your eyes squeeze shut. You knew Joel loved the feeling, so letting him watch it from another perspective would drive him crazy. You pull away and sucked a breath of air before going to jerk the cock with the copious amounts of saliva you had coated on it. Drool hangs out of your mouth, dripping to your tits and onto the plush but you didn't care. Not when the satisfying grind against Teddy's face brought you closer and closer.

"Wanna cum on Teddy's face, Daddy," you moan, putting the tip back in your mouth and hollowing your cheeks as your hips moved faster.

"Bet Teddy would love it. Do it, rub your slutty cunt all over his face."

Your pace slows with a long whine, eyes closing as your moan around the cock while cumming.

"Fuck, that's so fucking hot, baby. You're a goddamn dream, ya know that?" He groans, leaning back and pressing his palm to his crotch to finally put some pressure on his tented dick.

Your orgasm had barely finished before you were picking up speed again, humping your Teddy's face with your fresh arousal. Your hole twitched against the anal plug. "Daddy, need you to take care of me."

"Ah uh. Teddy might not be able to cum in you like I can but his cock still needs some lovin' from that tight pussy of yours." Joel stands and walks close to the bed, no shame in rubbing his cock through his pants. You whine at the sight, rubbing your pussy faster.

"You makin' a mess over here yet?"

You proudly lay back from Teddy's face and spread your legs, showcasing the large wet area on the stuffed animals face and the equally dripping arousal between your legs, swirling your clit with your fingertip and moaning loudly.

Joel ran his thigh hands through the matted wet fur of the bears face. "Fuck yeah, good girl, good fucking girl." His other hand finds your puffy pussy, smacking your finger away as he drove two thick digits into your wet heat. He finger fucks you aggressively, marveling at your juices splashing against your thigh and down Teddy's forehead. "God damn, got me my own little pornstar."

You throw your head back, clawing to keep your own legs parted as he works your oversensitive spot over. He presses downward, feeling the bulge of the plug through your vaginal walls. Your juices leak down to the jewel, generously coating your puckered hole.

He quickly withdraws his finger, tugging at his button and zipper with a renewed sense of pace. "Get on that dildo and ride your new teddy bear."

Joel moves away to stand close to the bed as you flipp your leg around to straddle the plush's belly. You inch your hips lower, wiggling them slightly to entice Joel. He platfully slaps your ass, making you giggle. Your hand wrapping around the width of the cock to line up at your entrance.

A high pitched moan escapes your lips as you sunk down on the toy all the way to the base in one motion. Your lips find Teddy's nose as you adjust to the girth inside you, kissing it and tasting the remnets of your slick.

"Fuck me, princess," Joel coos, running his hand over the length of your back soothingly. You look stunning like this, the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen. Is this what you always look like while riding his dick?

Gently yet sternly, you feel the pressure of his palm against your back, gliding along each ridge of your spin, urging you to move up and down on the dildo. You set off a slow pace, hands fisting the fluffy chest of your new Teddy friend, slick walls clamping down on both toys buried deep inside you. The plug in your ass occasionally nudged the tip of the dildo, making you whine. You felt very full, but not entirely too much. It was just perfect.

"How's Teddy's cock feel in your tight little snatch?" Joel guides your movements into a faster pace, now bouncing on the cock, tits jiggling with each thrust.

"Fuck, Teddy, feels so good inside me, fills me up so full." You glance at Joel who's licking his lips down at you. "Not as full as my Daddy's cock makes me feel," you add, smiling and biting your lip.

His lips clash against yours at the confession. Suddenly you feel your bralette being ripped off your chest. "Joel—" Your protest muffled by his incessant mouth, biting at your lips and sucking your tongue. You couldn't help but grind faster on the bear while Joel's fingers tweak your bare nipples and cup your swaying tits.

His other hand trails down your spine, swatting your ass. He tugs the thin fabric of the thong over your crack, pressing the anal plug further imside you. You keen into his mouth, tongue swiping his. His fingers honing on your hole, tapping it to remind you of its presence. He slinks further down to where you and Teddy's cock are joined together, your slick pouring down and staining the fluff below.

He feels your wetness at where your folds part to accommodate the pink length inside you. Hand now slick with your arousal, he inches back up to the plug, pressing it further inside you.

You gasp, breaking your heated kiss. "D-daddy, oh fuck... please," you cried, leaning forward, desperate to escape his pressure.

"You want me here?"

You nod, drunk on the need to cum again.

"Cum on Teddy's dick first."

You nod hazily again, arms propping you further up to recapture Joel's lips as he used the plug, tugging and pushing it inside your ass. Your hips move faster, now bouncing on your knees to get the tip of the cock to tap your g-spot inside. Joel loves how good you are at riding, always seeking your pleasure, knowing the exact angles to get yourself to cum.

Joel's fingers wrap around the exterior of the plug and pulls the base expanding around your hole and pulling it out. You cried out in ecstacy. "TEDDY oh—fu-fuuuccckk, s'good oh shit! M'cummin'—cumming on Teddy's cock! Yesyesyes, ughhh—teddyteddyteddyteddy—" you chant, cumming hard on the dildo, arms giving way as you crashed down on Teddy's chest, pussy grinding down against the plush surroundings as you floated in your orgasm.

Joel wastes no time, mounting you from behind, one knee pressing into the mattress with his foot planted directly next to the plush bear foot. You yelp as Joel pushes your body fully flush against the bear, the dildo sinking deeper into your cunt. "Hold on to Teddy, baby."

Your arms wrap around Teddy's middle. You felt a gob of slimy liquid fall directly on your puckered hole, gaping as it swallowes down Joel's spit. His hand spread your ass to watch it twitch, rubbing the tip of his cock to smear it all over, dipping inside ever so slightly before retreating, prepping you.

"Obedient little bitch in heat, just begging to get stuffed full of cock tonight. Gonna take both our dicks at the same time?"

You whine in the bears fluffy chest, wiggling your hips in the air to entice Joel's movements into action.

He lines the tip of his cock against your pulsing little hole before pushing in just the tip, your muffled moans being swallowed by the plush below you.

"So fuckin' tight, babygirl. Holy shit. Never gonna get used to this perfect little ass," He groans, eyes fluttering at the squeeze of your walls struggling to accommodate his length. While the dildo buries in your pussy was generously sized, it was nothing compared to Joel's girth and length, practically splitting you in half.

Teeth clenching into the fluff fabric, you swallow down a cry as Joel's hips inched further, invading your guts.

Joel let out a pained breath as he bottoms out inside your ass. "Fuck, princess. How you feelin'?"

"S-so-so f-mm-fuullll."

He leaned over your body, pressing his cock further into you, his belly slotting perfectly along your arched back. He brushes your hair away from your face to kiss your cheek.

God, you loved this man so fucking much.

He sits back up, aggressive hands seaking your waist as set a brutal pace, hips rutting into the fat of your cheeks.

Nevermind, fuckJoelfuckJoelfuckJoelfuckJoel—

You were trapped between the giant head of the bear and Joel's incessant pounding. Each drive of his hips push you down further into Teddy's softness, the dildo inside you plunging deeper, rubbing against the inside of your belly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, tongue out panting like a dog, arms wrapped so tightly around the plush as you held on for dear life.

"So fuckin' good, oh my Fuck, you're an angel. Just a doll, takin' my cock like this. Getting fucked by your Daddy and your Teddy too—FUCK—sweetest little cunt and ass, my perfect little cock slut, so amazing, 'm so lucky, love ruinin' this ass—holy s-shit!"

The combined fullness of the dildo and Joel's cock inside you rubbed all the deepest, desperate parts inside you, filling you to the brim over and over again. Both cocks rubbing against your walls, their tips nudging, lengths pressing against each other through the membrane. You could feel a drop of Joel's sweat trickle down your back, his harsh almost pained breaths filling the room along side the obscene slapping of his hips against yours.

"You like this? Like getting pounded like the little whore you are?"

"Yes,yesyes holy fuck Daddy yes! Love getting railed by your big cock in my ass, Teddy deep in my pussy—oh fuck Joel 'm cumming!"

You clenched around both Joel's and Teddy's length as you came, screaming into air, uncontrollable shaking as you hump and grind your clit into the soft plush under you, tits pressing against its fullness.

Joel's fingernails dig painfully into the sides of your hips, stuttering his pace as the feeling of you clamping down on him. Brows furrowed, he let out a pained and long growl as he stills completely, cock pulsing, dumping a massive load of his seed deep inside you.

He slips his softening cock out of you carefully before collapsing on top of your sweaty back, sandwiching you between him and the bear.

"I love you," he whispers right into your ear, only for you.

-

Afterwards, Joel cleaned you up with a warm towel, leaving you sprawled arms and legs draped over the bear in the same position he fucked you in, exhaustion preventing you from doing anything other than wince when Joel slipped the silicon cock out of you. He showered you in praise and sweet kisses all over your body, cradling you to lie on your back as he removed the soaked Teddy bear from the bed. He climbed into the sheet with you, after having tossed a few more plushies around your body to surround you in extra softness.

You slept for a few hours. When you awoke, your eyes adjusted the blurriness to see Joel luing next to you on his back, a squishy sitting on his chest as he playfully tilted it to brush again his nose, staring at it with a straight face.

"That one's cute. You wanna take him home?" You asked curiously.

"Well, I mean Kitty is there all by herself on my big bed, could use a friend..." he mumbled, not totally aware that you were watching him eye your stuffed animals on the bed. "Or that's the shit you'd say, right?" He added quickly.

You playfully pout with him, trying to hold a giggle. "He does need a friend..." You said, hoping to encourage this newfound softness of the man you love.

Joel nodded briefly before pausing his fiddling. "Kitty's a he?"

- -

Extended scene:

"Nah uh, I read all cats are girlies on the little machine at The Olive Garden."

"The what?"

"The little tablet thing at Chili's? Says all cats are ladies."

"You mean the true or false quiz that says: Calico cats are almost all female?"

"Yeah 'ats that one."

"That's ONE breed of Kitty Joel."

"I'd like to breed your kitty."

"I can't take you anywhere."

- - - -

Next: Piggy

Or more Teddy special

[shinidamachu]

Sid, why do you think people think Kagome is “so annoying” and “whiny?” How exactly did she earn this reputation among her (rather dumb) haters.

The world is not kind to 15 years old girls, and what is Kagome, if not the perfect representation of one?

People forgot they can dislike a character just because and then move on. They'd rather grasp at straws to try and justify themselves, that way they can pretend they're being rational about the constant hate they're spreading when, truthfully, they're just being miserable.

Kagome specifically is in even greater disadvantage because her critics are, mostly, people who haven't read the source material and are instead basing their takes on a biased adaptation – which they probably watched ages before developping any critical skills – or people who see her as a threat to their ship and therefore are already prone to hate her.

The first group won't ever bother going out of their way to try and get a better grasp of her character by reading a 558 chapters long manga and the second group won't change their minds either way.

That's why they call her out for using the beads of subjugation even if: it wasn't her idea in the first place, it served to balance her relationship with Inuyasha at the beginning – since he was powerful and violent while she wasn't –, the rosary became a symbol of their bond, it saved Inuyasha a couple of times and he was always more annoyed than hurt by it, not to mention Sunrise blowing it out of proportion compared to the manga.

You never see Inuyasha getting bashed for hitting Shippo every other episode or Sango getting any heat for constantly slapping Miroku, because funnily enough people seem to understand it was just dumb, outdated, slapstick comedy, a courtesy they refuse to extend to Kagome.

That's also the reason they call her “annoying” and “whiny”: Kagome’s most important lesson was that it's okay to have feelings, so naturally they twisted that into a bad thing in order to keep hating on her. It's not about how her character was written, it's about people using of bad faith and deliberately mischaracterizing Kagome to pass their internalized misogyny as valid criticism.

I know part of the issue is that audiences nowadays are under the impression that for a female character to be strong, she can't cry or be feminine, but you don't see anyone hating on Sango even though she does cry and she can be as feminine as Kagome depending on the circunstances and on her mood.

The truth is that Kagome is playing a game she can never win, because the refs have decided they want her to lose before the match even starts.

If she stands up and sets boundaries for herself, she's annoying. If she doesn't, she's a doormat. If she feels jealousy, she's a bitch. If she shows kindness, she's boring. If she fights, she's overpowered. If she doesn't, she's useless. If any other character cries, it's heartbreaking. If she cries, she's whiny.

If she goes back to her own world, she's selfish. If she leaves that world behind to live the life she wants for herself, she's a stupid girl who left her family for a boy. If she does something grand, that's only because she's someone else's reincarnation. If she messes something up, the fault is hers and hers alone. She is, somehow, simultaneously a Mary Sue and a toxic abuser.

I've personally seen people slut shaming her because she got hitted on by Koga. I've personally seen people call her a "pick me" girl. Kagome. A pick me girl. Kagome.

And none of this is fair, because she is the kind of character who does her best to see the good in others, to understand the reasons why they act the way they do and to offer them some grace, but she gets very little of that in return, be it in canon, be it in fandom.

They always hold her up to such an impossible standard, but they completely forget to ask themselves: would the characters I stan be able to match the expectations I set for Kagome? Scratch that: would the characters I stan even be able to deal with things the way Kagome managed to do? Would I? The answer is most likely no, so how about cutting her a slack?

You ask me how did she earn this reputation among her rather dumb haters, my answer is: she didn't. They're just incapable of understanding that if a particular nuanced, well written, female character is not their cup of tea, they can simply ignore her and focus their attention on the characters they do like instead of spreading their baseless, misogynistic takes on the internet.

[lizaluvsthis]

SMG4: The PuzzleVision Movie

[SPOILER ALERT and more into the ship]

VERY.

MAJOR.

SPOILER.

PLEASE.

Its funny enough how i predicted spongebob squarepants in my theory

(It even also has the ship I had a true pairing with. Squidbob.)

When old fandom meets the new fandom I'm currently in be like-

I see how they got each other's backs...

Suprised that SMG4 has done this- because last time we remembered, Smg3 is the one who comes risking his own life to save his buddy.

Now it's giving the DEJA VU moment but this time SMG3 is the one who gets saved by smg4.

"You saved me!"

Notice how different they act around their partner when they get saved?

Smg3 during wotfi 2023 AND in his recolor design during the 10 year anniversary.

He himself has pushed those things away or pushing out the soft stuff saying— "yeah yeah" or "I'd like to see you die otherwise"

BUT HIM? He still couldn't accept himself with the softness he's gained alot. He still calls his FRIEND. Baka.

(Hah idiot.)

One thing to say that it WAS AWKWARD SMG4 just looks at our guy. My man... my homie... buddy chum pal old fella amigo-

You. Are not. Okay. My man. (GAY PANIC SAYS OTHERWISE)

I know its not relevant but I drew this back in march 25 believe it or not I may have predicted this as well

Me and my brain goofing around telling me what if the gays did do that.

Anyways- back when Three lets Four carry him, as much as they both hate each other they atleast had to do it somehow inorder to escape.

Yet four could ever care less and he was still grabbing his waist at that time, and Three not giving a sh-t just looking up at the sky noticing how pretty it is.

Three... DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHOSE GRABBING YOUR WAIST RIGHT NOW??????????

Two siblings getting both of their fingers broken.

And its even in the right hand! Since Mario is immune to broken bones, Meggy however gets to be on the same place Mario has been in IGBP. NOW she gets to feel the pain what Mario may had felt.

-

And thus at the near end where SMG4 hits PV with a meat hammer or aka luigi- HE LITERALLY KICKED THE HEAD OUT- AND THE ANIMATION THAT MADE IT SO SERIOUS.

I think I understand his anger so much from this clip that everyone would agree.

Ever since PuzzleVision gave back everyones conciousness- he showed the Western Spaghetti and IGBP act of the crew on how emotional things became.

"And SMG4... who knew you could play an antagonist so well! High ranks for me!"

He felt so guilty. He looked down. He knew what PV was talking about.

By an antagonist' actions.

Just like how he was possessed by the goop itself, he started going crazy during that time and he let his anger get on to him.

SMG4 DID NOT WANT TO BE THE BAD GUY.

He was so scared and felt pity to himself because of that. And it was all ruined because of PV himself.

Smg4 didn't want to remember what happened during that encounter and never will.

Besides on the deal with PuzzleVision. SMG4 and Meggy's traumatic experiences weren't talked enough from their problems during the movie.

So much things are happening from the show that no one is talking much about it while watching.

"Is... is it over?"

Smg4 proceedingly cried emotionally because of the torture. He was apparently too blind enough to notice now that he realized it was him to blame. He was so dumb enough and so angry that he could cry.

Three didn't even slapped him or shut him off, he lets him cry over there due to the fact that he may need to release his emotions.

Because he knows how sentimental Smg4 became when it involves with dealing his own emotions that HE couldn't even give an advice for. But could only stay quiet.

Because at what hell of a state would he even say to SMG4 when they're trying to escape from this hell of a nightmare?

Four still doesn't accept himself, and neither does Smg3 too. From everything that happened.

Our boys are suffering enough and its hurting us like hell.

[holybibly]

CAPTAIN!Hongjoon pirate AU where he kidnaps you when you were wandering around the docks. He would be very possessive over you as he sees you as his own personal treasure to use whenever he pleases.

BUT! He definitely has no problem sharing you with the other members, or let them have their way with you whenever he thinks you deserve a punishment. One time, he allowed one of the members to tie you up naked against the pole in the middle of the deck, completely exposed for everyone to see. How long were you supposed to stay there? Until you’ve learned your lesson of course. You must fully understand you belong to him, and only him. Knowing the only reason the other members gets their turn with you sometimes, is because he let’s them. No other reason.

(Nice add is always being a princess who gets kidnapped by the captain and his crew. Humiliating you into fully understanding you are nothing more than their own personal play thing. No royal status for you anymoooore)

URGHHH I’m such a sucker for PIRATE! AU and nobody pulls this concept off like ATEEZ🫠

Oh, our captain. When he wants something, he is going to get it.

When he first saw you, something clicked inside him. A dark thirst for destruction was stronger than any rational thought. He should have you. You are a true princess.

Oh, you would be such a beautiful addition to his treasures, his crown's sparkling diamond.

On your wedding day, or more likely, on your wedding night, Joong would have kidnapped you. Maybe he would fuck you there, in your luxurious chambers, in front of your fiancé, to show him who you belong to.

Hongjoong would call you his precious, his true treasure, his special black pearl, but only if you were on your best behaviour. If you dared to contradict him, all cute nicknames would instantly turn into horrible, humiliating insults.

He might even slap you to teach you obedience if you pushed his buttons hard enough. Of course, Hongjoong would then treat you sweetly. He would hold you on his lap all the time and plant hot kisses on your neck until your skin was raw and red from the rough, passionate caresses.

I can easily imagine him laying your naked body on the table during a communal dinner while the other participants try to ignore your moans and sobs as their captain eats you up as the main course. Extremely dirty and loud, he wouldn't shut up about how wonderful your sweet cunt is, and he lapped up your juices as if it were the last meal of his life.

"You're dripping like a real whore. You're no longer of royal blood, are you, Princess?"

He would probably pour the wine on you so he could slowly lick it off you while his stunning cat-like eyes stared at the participants as if to say, "Look, she's mine. I can do whatever the hell I want with her."

"Tell me: Who owns this pussy? Come on, say it." He would definitely slap you in the pussy a couple of times to make you squeal and squirm.

He would make all the boys watch him enjoy your tight, pink cunt in front of their faces. Hongjoong could also have a cum on your face because he could do it.

As a punishment, he would give the boys the use of your impudent mouth, but first he would put a crown on your head with diamonds and precious stones as a form of mockery.

"Is it possible for a princess to have such a dirty mouth, full of sperm and drool?"

In the end, he was going to get what he wanted, which was to make you completely subservient to him and to destroy your royal status.

Hongjoong did everything in his power to make you realise that there was only one person on this ship who could be considered royal, and that was himself.

[aniharas]

𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯…

drabble warnings: sexual content, implied sexual content a/n: quick drabble inspired by this scene from fast 6. but lowkey yall should lmk if you want f1!anakin. cuz i know i do.

...was something you desperately needed. you were notoriously bad at piloting ships, or any means of travel. even airspeeders, and any time you were on a mission, the other jedi would quickly offer to pilot before you had even stepped foot onto the landing ramp. so who better to seek help from but the greatest pilot in the galaxy? asking anakin was rather intimidating, since the only real interaction you had with him was sparring as padawans. after laughing at your predicament for a moment, he accepted.

but you never knew having him as your pilot’s-ed instructor would prove to be so distracting. he had taken you to the abandoned race tracks of tatooine, and you nearly slapped him once you realized where he was taking you. he quickly defended himself, saying that it was where he learned to pilot vehicles, and it was only fair that he would teach you where he taught his fellow peers.

but the sweltering heat of twin suns did you no favors for focusing. both of you stripped of your robes, down to your undertunics, adorning matching earpieces so you could hear each other over the wind. sweat dotted your skin as you slouched over in the passenger seat of the airspeeder anakin had rented out for you. as you watched him explain the controls to you, you found your eyes lingered on the way his muscles tensed as he gripped the throttle.

the longer anakin droned on about the semantics of piloting, the harder you found it to care. the dry wind that breezed past the both of you had dried out his throat, giving it a rasp that made even the least suggestive of words sexy. the way it made his hair fly wildly allowed you to get a good look at his face. the corners of his eyes crinkled from how widely he was smiling. you had never seen him so lively before, so exhilarated, so free. you felt the same way.

he seemed to know what you were thinking, gesturing for you to come to him. “come on, you try steering,” he offered.

you were about to move, but you were quickly stumped. “uh, what do you mean?” you asked shyly, looking around you. “there’s nowhere to sit.”

you weren’t sure if your eyes were deceiving you as you saw the corner of anakin’s lips tug upwards. “sure there is,” he replied, patting his lap twice. “just so i can steer if something goes wrong. don’t get any ideas,” he teased, slowly bringing the speeder to a stop as he undid his seatbelt.

‘how could i not?’ you were thinking as you awkwardly stuck your leg towards the driver’s side. being so close to him had you holding your breath out of nervousness, hovering over his lap slightly. you felt his large hand against your hip, keeping you steady as you lowered yourself down. 

“everything feel okay?” anakin whispered into your ear as he removed your earpiece, tossing it carelessly to the empty passenger seat before shrugging off his own. it left you shuddering at the feeling of his breath on your skin. you could hear a slight rumbling in his throat after your sudden movement.

you nodded, taking a deep breath to compose yourself. “mhm. just feeling hot, that’s all,” you lied through your teeth. all you heard from him in response was a chuckle.

after a moment, anakin’s hands circled around your wrists, guiding your hands to the steering handles. “alright. show me what you got.”

despite the feeling that your heart was going to jump out of your chest, you managed to steer your way around the track and get a few laps in with only a few life-endangering moments. anakin would mutter some of his criticisms into your ear, or he would bring his hand up to adjust the wheel slightly. although you tried your best to pay attention to his words, his low, authoritative voice had you instinctively rocking your hips.

at first, anakin tried to ignore it. you noticed it in the way his instructions would falter as you pressed against him. interrupted by a loud exhale through his nose or a curse leaving his lips. things didn’t escalate further until you hit a speed bump, the airspeeder jolting so harshly that it left you nearly bouncing in his lap. his hands instinctively went to your sides to keep you steady, but they wasted no time in slipping down your waist. with each rock of your hips, it was almost as if he was guiding them as your ass grinded against the growing tent in his trousers. you weren’t sure if you were able to withstand the tension anymore, heat building between your legs as you moved more intensely.

suddenly, anakin’s hands left your hips before gripping the steering handles tightly, his foot nudging yours off the gas. “hands off,” he ordered, voice strained. he didn’t have to tell you twice. once you relinquished control, he quickly took over, the world around you nearly turning into a blur as he began to race down the empty track. your hair whipped about crazily as you turned to face him, the utter speed pressing you against his chest.

at first, you were concerned. he was going so fast, why wouldn’t his attention be on the track ahead of him? why were his eyes solely on you, half-lidded and glazed over with what was unmistakably desire? you had a mind to tell him to focus, but you remembered he grew up here, racing for mere scraps. he knew this track like the back of his hand, and it was evident in how he steered so effortlessly without ever breaking eye contact with you. the thought spurred you on, reaching up to cup his face and press your lips against his without another thought.

you instantly regretted it, feeling how chapped your lips were from all the wind. but it didn’t bother anakin, wasting no time in devouring yours. he gently nipped your bottom lip, as if to silently ask for entrance. you obliged, your swelling lips parting as his tongue slipped its way past, exploring you in such a way that you never thought would happen. he kissed you like he thirsted for you in the desert heat, drinking you in like you were his oasis. the taste of him on your tongue left you drunk with your ever growing lust, clutching at the fabric of his tunic as if you were to tear it off. the more deeply you kissed him, the harder he stepped on the gas, the rev of the engine growing louder the faster you went.

it was exhilarating, covering dozens of kilometers in the small moments you took to catch your breath. pulling away, you traced the outline of his jaw as you laid your head on his shoulder, not minding his sweat that collected at the tip of your finger.

“d’you usually do this whenever you teach someone?” you inquired directly into his ear, a dazed smile never leaving your lips.

anakin’s equally awestruck expression broke into laughter, his melodic chuckles barely heard over the sound of the harsh wind and the pulsating growl of the engine. “just figured you wanted a different kind of lesson.”

“i might need a couple more,” you admitted before closing in, peppering slow and tantalizing kisses to the crook of his neck. 

the deep, whiny sigh that escaped his throat was something you knew you wouldn’t grow tired of. “you’re lucky i’m a good teacher,” anakin rasped out, clutching your waist tightly before diving in to capture your lips once more.

there was something about making out with the chosen one all while traveling at breakneck speeds; it invigorated your senses like no other. maybe you would take it a step further next time.

a/n: hope u all enjoyed! yall lmk if u want a second part of this drabble. also requests are open!

masterlist.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Happy follower milestone! Maybe an Ettore onesbot where reader is assistant to the doctor Dibs and maybe some kind of nurse kink???

Afflictions Of A Dark Nature

Thank you for the request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! This is my first time writing for Ettore so apologies if it seems OOC, I did try my best (I even re-watched High Life and will be sending the bill for emotional damages). Also get well soon @ewanmitchellcrumbs 😚

Warnings under the cut! Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* lots of swearing, mentions of past sexual encounters that may have not been consensual, fingering, dub-con, p in v sex, ass slapping, degradation, mentions of a blood test, male masturbation, oral (f receiving), creampie, cum eating, dacryphyilia, choking, kinda face slapping?, ass play, spitting, overstimulation | Word Count: 6.4k~ | dividers by @firefly-graphics

If he had to see that wrinkly, smug face of Dr Dibs again, Ettore would lose it.

He knew who he was. He wasn’t beyond acting out against women if he wanted to. It’s part of what put him here in the first place. Drifting through space, on some suicide mission that the oh-so-wise earthlings had decided it would be better to doom prisoners to death rather than qualified astronauts. Not like it mattered. He was on death-row anyway, so what loss really was it?

Only the loss of his complete sanity.

He knew that if he lashed out at anyone, even Dr Dibs, there’d be a punishment of sorts. In a way that was wholly unethical for someone who is supposed to provide care, but hey, who’s keeping track. Nobody gives a shit on earth. She could put arsenic in the water supply if she wanted to, and nobody could say a thing about it.

For the sake of at least living longer, though it made him dry-heave inside, he sweetened up, got more sleeping pills out of it as a result, which in this place was gold dust. A long, good-night’s sleep did little to take a person away from a situation like this, but it was at least something. A small mercy in a way.

Deep down, there was a need-no, an impulse that Ettore couldn’t shake. 

But before he could indulge in the memories of those needs, someone called his name.

“Ettore, is it?” 

Her voice was sweet, far too compassionate for someone stuck aboard working on this fucked up prison. And when she raised her eyebrows at him to elicit a response, she gave a polite smile. When was the last time someone smiled at him, truly?

She had a clipboard in front of her, disguising the lanyard around her neck and she wore blue scrubs, which looked the same design as the prisoners, but instead theirs were red.

Perhaps to show how dangerous they were. Hers was clinical and clean. Pure.

He wore suspicion on his face, marked with the furrow of his brows and without saying a word he stood and followed her into the infirmary. She was a head shorter than him which made him smirk when he was sure she wasn’t looking. 

All he knew was that he was grateful it wasn’t that wrinkly, smug bitch. He was sure she was doing something fucking weird to them. Just couldn’t put his finger on what.

When she drew the curtain, she let him in first, “Have a seat”

This cubicle was at least separate. And even though they’d not been on the ship for long, it looked crusty and old, with those wax linoleum floors, vile padded walls. It looked like it was going to fall apart. 

Ettore slumped into a chair next to a computer with a huff, taking in his surroundings, still trying to figure out what to make of this new person. Why hadn’t he seen her before? And she looked a lot younger than Dibs, was she even a real doctor or nurse at all?

Her hair was in a loose bun, fractionally more formal than Dibs who wore her braid like armour over her shoulder at all times. It made her look older, despite what Dibs would like to have believed. 

She sat down in front of the computer, typing in a few things, and he admired her face for a moment in silence. The way the light of the monitor reflected off the colour of her eyes, how her tongue darted out to lick her lips when she was trying to read something and how fast her fingers typed on the old, beige keyboard that was far too loud for his liking. Sounded like a clock was ticking in his brain.

He didn’t say a word. As was Ettore’s way. He was usually never one to speak first. He was an observer, seeking out the weaknesses of people as if he could simply by looking, like he could extract a little piece of them the longer he did. For her though, he couldn’t make her out.

When Ettore craned his head slowly to look, he could see she was reading his medical history and it made him feel special to know that she was finding out everything she could about him. He wished he could do the same to her. Find out all her little secrets.

“Just some general things and blood work today, nothing fancy” she says, meeting his eyes for a moment with another polite smile, the kind of smile where she’s clearly just trying to be nice, but Ettore can’t help the deep ache in his core to have a woman in front of him now, after years of not touching one. The Box was fine, sure, but there was no other feeling like a woman. Their warm, fleshy insides, each ridge within different from woman to woman.

Something knocked on the door in his mind. A sinful thought had arrived and asked how would she feel? Did she use the Box as well? Who did she think of when she touched herself?

“Roll up your sleeve for me” she instructs, holding the blood pressure monitor in her hands and tearing the velcro away. 

She meets his eyes again briefly to find him already looking at her when she leans forward to wrap it around his bicep, right over where his tattoo is. She has small, soft hands, indicative of her work. How would they feel on him, wrapped around his cock? Would her hands even surround him? That was all he could think about as she patted the cuff in place, brushing against his shoulder.

The machine whirred to life and it squeezed his arm, at the end bordering on pain which made him wince. She busied herself with typing on her computer in the meantime, the lanyard around her neck now visible, showing her name.

Got you.

When the machine beeped, she looked at the screen and put the results into his record, wheeling her chair to him again to take it off. He felt his cock get hard beneath his scrubs not just at the feel of her hands on him again, but now because of her proximity. He assumed everyone used the same soap here, she was no exception. But it smelled different on her and he inhaled a deep, long breath to commit as much of it to memory as he could.

She looked surprised when he spoke, as if she hadn’t expected him to.

“Why haven’t I seen you around”

It was hardly a questioning tone, more like an accusation. But she didn’t flinch away at it, rather, she was used to it.

She gave another polite smile, “Oh well, I’m usually in here, running all the tests Dibs gives me” she explains, getting her additional tools ready for the blood test, “But she wanted more help with ‘menial’ tasks like this, is how she put it” she says with a short, quiet huff of a laugh, like she thinks the reasoning was poor.

“So now you’re doing poor sod’s blood tests?” 

She nodded, “Something like that” 

Her tools were lined up, a tourniquet, a syringe and some cotton swabs. She pulled a pair of blue gloves on and moved her chair closer to him. 

“So you’re gonna poke at me?” he asks, half-amused, like he’s testing her.

She cleans the area around his arm with alcohol, a puff of air coming out her nose in a quiet laugh, tightening the tourniquet on him “Just seeing if you have good veins” she says, running her thumb over the pale skin of his arm, clearly finding a vein she was happy with.

Dr Dibs always missed his vein at least once, and he’d clench his fist as the needle went in. He wasn’t into drugs, like a lot of other prisoners here, so he wasn’t used to the prickly feeling. He found pleasure in other ways he deemed fit.

“Just a scratch” she mutters, inserting the needle beneath his skin, smiling to herself when blood goes into the bottle. First time. 

Ettore watched the vial fill with rich, thick blood, and then watched her, “You seem a bit young to be a doctor”

"Technically I'm a Junior Doctor" she replies, concentrating on his blood flow before meeting his eyes again. She seems to look at him deeply, her pupils flirting across his face now that they're so close to each other. He hears every little breath, every movement of her throat as she swallows thick, like she's nervous. And everytime her tongue darts out to wet her lips, he stares at the pinkness of it, thinking of how it would feel.

"Should I be trusting you to give me a blood test?" He teases with a wolfish grin, trying to see just how far he can push his luck.

"Hm, I don't suppose you have much choice" her smile turns a bit devilish at his quip, which quite honestly, the turn of her lips makes him want to bend her over the desk and fuck her right then and there. Wants to see what kind of sweet sounds she might make. Even the thought of it makes his cock ache.

“Suppose not”

"I'm allowed to give you blood tests" she says with a teasing smile, pulling the needle from his arm and replacing it with a cotton swab, "Hold that there for me" 

He obeys, holding it with his thumb firmly, smirking at the banter he didn't expect to have. The fact that she doesn't visibly seem afraid of him only spurs him on more. Thinking how far can he really go to make her feel uncomfortable. To make her realise just how dangerous he is, what he could do to her.

If anything he's shocked at his own restraint that he's managed this long without touching her. Such a small little thing. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him if he put his mind to it. And in those cute little scrubs as well, she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing to him. How easy would it be to just rip right through them, to see if she was wearing anything underneath. He imagined she wasn’t, and that he’d rip them open to be greeted with her bare, soft skin, how plush and feminine her tits would be, filling his palm. He wants to squeeze them painfully, make her whine out like a slut.

His body is getting hot, blood thrumming with want.

Once the cotton swab is secured to his arm with adhesive, he can’t take his eyes off her, challenging her to meet his gaze to see what she would do.

“Why are you here?” he asks, intrigued. She doesn’t look a bit like a criminal. But he could be surprised by her and he has a feeling he will.

“That’s a personal question” she states, not losing the lazy smirk on her face at the fact he’s clearly so interested in her, “why are you here?”

“Alright, point taken”

She doesn’t prod for more information.

Holding out a clear tub to him, “You know what to do right?” she asks, clearly holding back a wider smile.

Cheeky bitch.

He snatches it from her grasp with a grin, “Now?”

Her eyebrow twitches in amusement.

“However long it takes”

A jolt goes through his body, as if a light had just come on inside. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.

Fucking cock tease.

He gave her a look before drawing the curtain in the cubicle, barely a few feet from where she sat. So close that he could hear her typing on her computer, hear her quiet sighs. What sweet noises would she make with his cock prodding her soft, tight insides.

Usually when he did sperm samples for Dibs, he took no enjoyment from the idea that she was essentially in the same room as him, not that it took him any less time to cum, she was still a woman and that meant something. As repulsive as she seemed. 

But when he took himself in his fist and stroked himself to hardness, teased himself with eyes softly falling shut, he imagined they were her hands. Everytime he squeezed from base to tip, reaching down with the other hand to cup his balls, wondering what her tongue would feel like dragging over every inch of him. Would she tease him? Lick his angry red tip only slightly, and that sensitive spot underneath, flattening her wet muscle over it slowly, allowing him to feel every warm and minute movement.

Without even really realising, his hand was guiding himself faster, desperate to feel the friction of her pussy choking him. Would she buck her hips to meet his desperate thrusts, or squirm away as he bullied the end of her, pushing against her cervix recklessly. He wanted her to be a good girl, and just take what he gave her. If he started, would he really truly be able to stop?

He struggled to hold in the shuddered breaths and he very nearly forgot to put the tub in front of him before finishing. A pleasant roll of warmth ran through his body, one that quickly turned into a dark, deep desire. His hand wasn't enough. He hadn’t touched a woman in so long. He wanted the real thing and she was right there. Dirty bitch was probably already wet thinking about what he was doing.

Slipping through the curtain he handed it out to her and she took it with an amused raise of her eyebrows.

“That was quick” she quipped, putting a lid on it and writing his name for the label.

Oh she’s going to get it, dirty fucking mouth.

He couldn’t hold off the sort of accomplished grin on his face, she was more fun than he thought. For a moment, he allowed himself to just simply observe her, wondering what other fun they could have.

He was growing impatient at not being able to act on those thoughts. 

“Is that it?” he asks, making her look up again.

“Unless you have any other…ailments?” Ettore doesn’t miss the way she suppresses a grin by biting the inside of her cheek. He doesn’t suppress his and feels impossibly hard once again seeing her dainty lips curl up just slightly. She must be able to see beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs, how much he wants her. Let her see, he thinks, make her squirm a bit.

He watches the way her eyes briefly run over him. It was so quick, that had he not been looking right at her, he would have missed it. She swallows, feeling like he caught her and turns away a bit, trying to hide the warm feeling that settles between her legs at the way he’s looking at her, exciting and yet dangerous at the same time.

She only hopes he doesn’t notice the way she’s squeezed her thighs together. 

“Smashing then, cheers doc” he smirks, sauntering off with a certain swagger about him, knowing that his sweet, innocent looking little doctor is all worked up. He looks over his shoulder before leaving.

The ache of the blood test is completely forgotten. Instead, all his blood is below his waist, with none left for his brain to function. It’s been a while since a woman last did this to him. Yeah he’d fucked plenty of women, some had even wanted it. But he wanted her to want it. Wanted the little slut to beg for it. To beg him to stuff her full of his cock.

That was new, he thought. But it didn’t deter him from trying to get near her when she was alone, for any chance he could get at having her all to himself. 

Annoyingly, he didn’t find the opportunity for quite some time.

Anytime he stalked past her office, there was always some other prisoner inside, having their own tests. A flash of something akin to a dark jealousy courses through his veins, his hands forming fists whenever he hears her talking in a hushed voice to another male prisoner, speaking in that way that only a doctor does.

It’s short lived, when he realises she doesn’t speak as sweetly to them as she does to him.

It feels like he’s had a hard-on for days, just merely thinking about being alone with her. It’s beginning to become painful just how much he wants it, to make her squirm for him, to make her cry. His use of the Box has increased dramatically, but the more he does it, the less the effect. His hand doesn’t do it for him anymore. He can’t replicate that tightness only a woman's cunt could give, the feeling of being sucked so desperately inside someone, being milked for all he’s worth. He dreams of it. She would take it all, he thinks, she’d be a good little slut and take it.

He thinks that if he goes there often enough, he might just run into her, drag her inside, or to a nearby hallway, or even tackle her to the floor if need be and shove himself so deep in her she won’t be able to hold back her wanton moans. He imagines holding her arms behind her back so she can’t move, brutally fucking her so hard that her hips will be bruised. 

He’s always liked walking around in the dark, even though he knows he’s not really allowed.

Tonight though, it rewards him.

A soft light emanates from her office and when he leans against the doorway to peek inside, he emits a quiet laugh through his nose, hands in pockets, just watching her.

Her hair is free of the loose bun she wore before and it trails down her back as she’s sat in her chair, leaning over a microscope. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing and recording notes that his presence doesn’t even disturb her.

He didn’t even think about announcing his presence. He wanted her genuine reaction.

So he didn’t think twice about stalking up behind her and grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her back. Only a quiet gasp escaped before he slammed his palm over her mouth, muffling a surprised cry.

“Shut the fuck up” he warned with a low voice.

She froze at his words, eyes wide and breathing heavily, not even having to wonder who it was. His fingers curled painfully against her scalp, tugging her up so her back is to him. Ettore can feel her hurried breaths out her nose hitting his hand.

“Be quiet and I’ll play nice” he says against the shell of her ear, making her body shudder, drawing his hand away from her mouth.

“What the hell are you doing?” she whispers accusingly behind her as he pushes the front of her body close to the desk, the edge biting into the front of her legs. His hands run down the sides of her, sucking in the fabric to the shape of her body, growling low at finally being able to see her form underneath.

“I came to see you” he grins,

“Fucking liar”

There was something exciting about being called out like that, and about her saying such vulgar words. As sweet as she looked, he knew there was something deep inside, somewhere he wanted to prod and poke at.

“It’s your own fucking fault” he snarls, pushing his hardness against the softness of her ass. He feels her freeze up for a moment, as if she’s just putting the pieces together, “prancing about in your slutty fucking doctor’s outfit”

One hand dips beneath the hem of her scrubs, a warm sigh expelled from his chest at the softness of her stomach beneath it, trailing higher over her ribs. He can almost feel her pounding heart from here, and it does nothing to deter him, the smirk on his face evidence of that. His large palm tugs at one of her clothed breasts, slightly annoyed to see that she’s wearing a bra underneath, but he squeezes it all the same, relishing in the pained whine she lets out in response to it.

His other hand tugs her forearm almost painfully behind her, twisting it in his grip harshly. He fully knew how strong he was compared to her and couldn’t have her doing anything rash. Best to keep her hands where he can see them.

“I was just trying to be nice” she counters with a harshness to her voice, not being able to take the breathiness out of it,  “Damn sight better than what most of you deserve” she briefly struggles in his hold, that is until he tightens the clamp on her wrist. A warning.

“Careful” he warns low in her ear, “I don’t think you understand the situation right now”

“You need to get off me. Now” she tries to push her hips away from him, but at her blatant refusal, he only pushes himself closer to her, moaning softly at the friction against him and the warmth of her even with her scrubs separating them.

He resists the urge to outright laugh, and scoffs instead, “You are in no position to make demands to me. I see right through you…you want me”

She only grunts painfully in response, half-trying to tear her hand away. Not trusting herself to say anything. Ettore almost wants to laugh at how pathetically she’s trying to avoid showing how she really feels.

“How long has it been, hm?” he says, more like a growl than anything, as his hand dips beneath the waistband of her scrubs, “Since someone touched you here”

She doesn’t reply, half fighting and half giving in. But then his hand cups her clothed sex, only covered by her thin underwear and she feels his large palm rub against her, her clit throbbing with desire at not having been touched in so long. God it had been so long. His fingers tease her entrance, rubbing in circles, coaxing some slick from her.

“A while, huh?” he smirks.

“Stop it, we’ll get in trouble” she says, but it comes out a whisper, not able to hide the way his hand against her most intimate area is having such an effect on her. The heel of his palm rubs against her bundle of nerves, making her blood feel like fire in her veins, arousal pooling in her belly.

“You think I give a fuck?” he retorts, grinning, “I would have a thousand punishments if I meant I could shove my cock in your tight little hole”

“You wouldn’t”

He does laugh at that, “You wanna bet?”

Her body briefly goes rigid, trying to hold back a genuine moan when his hand dips past her underwear, and Ettore groans at the feeling of her warm, wet pussy, coating his fingers with her slick. Her eyes break closed, mouth taut into a thin line to hold in her whine, body slightly trembling at how hard she is trying to hold back.

“You talk all this shit and you’re fucking soaked for me” he grins against her ear, “is this what was under that uniform…while you were prodding and poking me?”

She gasps, her lips opening in a hurried breath as his digit sinks into her, teasing her soft, spongy walls with the calloused pads of his fingertips. She doesn’t answer him. Can’t. She can just feel herself getting warmer. It’s undeniable, the effect he has on her. And she’s not sure if she’d be wise to submit to it. 

But it’s getting harder and harder by the second not to.

“Oh, you’re filthy” he says, inserting another finger, stretching her pussy with them, softly but harshly pushing inside “getting off on taking my blood, fucking slut”

At both his words and motions, she lets out a soft and quiet moan, a pressure inside her building the more she feels his fingers caressing her warm, wet walls.

Ettore tugs down his sweatpants, freeing his cock which sits hot and heavy against the curve of her ass, the tip flushed and stood to attention against his stomach. He gives himself a few pumps, pushing forward to let her feel him. He doesn’t even bother to begin the tryst with kissing. He’s not like that.

It’s much too soft and intimate a gesture, compared to what he plans to do with her.

She turns her head, now just quietly moaning at the pleasure his fingers give her, eyes half open and a hedonistic expression on her face. She sees him pull his shirt up his chest, and then looks down, to see what exactly is pushing hard against her backside.

Before she has any time to react, his hand is curled around her nape, pushing her head flush against the table in front of her, sending the samples scattering to the floor. 

"Stop it!" She protests, trying to wiggle helplessly out his grasp, "I'll scream"

She sees him smirk, looking down at her with a half lidded lust filled gaze.

"Do it then, makes it more interesting" he shows his teeth, tugging down her scrubs song with her underwear. Now with her body flush against the table and stuck, both his hands knead the globes of her ass, his fingers leaving pink marks in their wake. He takes fistfuls, spreading them to have a proper look at her glistening pussy, just waiting for him. She whimpers at the pleasured pain it emits when his fingers hold her apart, only to turn into a surprised gasp as he kicks her ankles apart.

“Someone could walk in!” she whisper-shouts, holding her hand to her mouth to muffle any sounds when he runs the tip of his cock over her soaked folds, slapping it against her clit and smiling at her reaction.

“Let them watch then, they can see how much of a mess I’ll make of you” he purrs leaning down to press his chest against her back, “None of that either” he pulls her hand from her mouth, “I want to hear how desperate you are for me”

With her cheek flush against the table, she had to only move her eyes to look at him. Glazed over with the pupil blown wide, it betrays just how much she may or may not want it, she still doesn’t want to show him. She’s almost annoyed at his cockiness, until she feels just how big he is, teasing her ever so slightly at her entrance.

“Now let’s see what pretty noises you can make for me, hm?”

He pushes against her, parting her folds, pulling her hips towards him to sink as much inside her as he can. His heart beats faster as he feels her pussy choke him tightly, every single ridge feels like fucking magic against his cock, he feels like just finishing inside her right there. She chokes a moan, his curved member rubbing up inside her at all the right angles the further inside he goes, until he kisses the end of her with the tip, reaching places she could never with her own fingers in the Box. Her back arches slightly as he bottoms out inside her, his fingers so tight on her hips they will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

He doesn’t give her time to adjust, not even a second, as he pulls all the way out, his length covered in her slick and slams back inside with a wet smack, watching how the flesh of her ass ripples when his hips meet it.

“Oh you’re bad…” he purrs, setting a brutally quick pace. Her eyes softly shut, her front rubbing almost painfully against the stainless steel table with each hard thrust.

“Gonna have you on every fucking flat surface in this ship” he breathes, his voice hurried from the effort and how she tightens around him at his words, “you’d like that wouldn’t you….everyone watching how much of a slut you are”

She yelps out in a pained moan when he slaps her ass, gripping it after to emphasise the burn, “Answer me”

“Yes-yes…” she manages through hurried breaths, trying to control her volume but rapidly failing.

Every time he fucks into, the sheer thickness of him pushes the air out of her lungs every time, her walls stretching against him to accommodate. Ettore smirks down at the view. She lets out between a sob and a moan when she feels his spit on her puckered hole, his thumb rubbing circles against it and spreading his saliva over her sensitive skin.

It feels so right and wrong at the same time. And when he pushes a thumb inside, only making her feel more full than she already does, she can't help but buck her ass against him, wanting more friction, pleasured tears falling down her cheeks. It really had been a while since she last had sex, obviously. But nobody had been this forward and rough with her before.

“See? I know you like this…knew you wanted to fuck me the second you saw me” he mocks, giving one hard, deep thrust inside which has her squirming against him with a desperate whine, his thumb sank all the way inside her ass, the movement of their fucking aiding in stimulating that as well.

He thinks, one day he'll claim that hole of hers as well.

But not today.

He pulls out quickly and instantly tugs at her hair, turning her over so that he can see her face. She’s sat weakly up on the counter, thighs held apart for him by one of his hands. Poor thing looks tired out, he thinks, looking at her watery eyes and flushed cheeks, her head lolling back against the counters with a thud.

“Are you fucking crying?” he grins, softly slapping her cheek and grabbing her face so she looks at him, “really has been a while, huh? That’s a bit pathetic”

He practically rips the shirt off her, not even bothering to take the bra underneath off and just tugs it to the side, freeing her breasts. He groans at the sight, perky, rosy and stood to attention in the now hot office, smelling of pure, unadulterated sex. They fill his palms perfectly, and he tugs at them with his fingers, revelling in the low, chesty mewl she lets out.

It’s no effort at all the way his cock just slides into her again, slowly. Too slowly.

She feels the curve of his cock, different in this new position, every vein and ridge. His thickness splits her open until he hits the end of her, pounding mercilessly into her, making the cupboards jolt in place with each snap of his hips against her thighs, which he is keeping in his palms wide apart. Ettore grins down, watching at the way his cock disappears into her over and over, at the ripple of her soft, soft skin each time.

She arches her back against him, warm, pleasured tears pricking at her eyes the closer she gets to that tight, hot pressure in her tummy bursting. He laughs as she clenches noticeably around him,

“What is it, hm?” he sneers, “or have I fucked you stupid?”

Her moans are so desperate she really does look pathetic, “fuck…I’m gonna-”

“You gonna cum for me?” he taunts with a wide smirk, all of this just doing wonders for his ego, “now, why would I let you do that?”

“...ne-need it…”

He never lets up his pace as once hand curls into her neck, tugging her forward so that her eyes are solely on him. She moans softly at the rough action.

Pathetic.

“You gonna be a good girl and be quiet?”

She nods as best she can, his hand tightening only slightly around her neck, trying to will her voice to come out between the deafening smacks of their fucking.

“Yes..”

“Say please, then”

“Please-I need it” she begs in a horse voice.

He shoves her back roughly, smacking her head against the cupboards, watching her tits as they bounce. Truthfully, he can feel himself getting close as well, but more than anything he wants to watch her come undone on his cock. Show her just how much fun she could have with him if she just let herself.

Her cheeks are pink and her chest is dotted with warmth as the air in the office is hot and thick, even more so at the pleasurable lack of oxygen his hand around her neck gives. It makes it harder for those strained moans to pass her lips.

Every drag through her hot, ridged core sends sparks of pleasure through him, crawling up his spine. 

You first.

She sucks in a breath when he lets go of her neck, allowing his thumb into her mouth. She sucks on the digit greedily, using her tongue to coat it with saliva. Ettore almost moans at just the sight of her.

He'll have that mouth too, he thinks.

A string breaks between her mouth and her thumb as he presses it suddenly against her clit, hard. She gasps at the painful pleasure of his rough actions, swirling his thumb over her bud to bring her to that precipice first.

Her hands grip his shoulders, but he quickly tears them off him, "I didn't say you could touch me" he snarls in between devastating thrusts, drawing figures of eight on her clit and watching as she squirms.

Her hands brace the counter either side of her legs, needing something to hold onto, "...m sorry…"

"You will be fucking sorry. Stupid bitch" 

If it's possible, he moves himself into her faster, bullying that rough patch inside her with such severity that her eyebrows furrow together, her mouth open in a silent scream. She contracts around him at the combined pleasure of his cock and his stimulation to her bud, knuckles going white at her grip on the counter.

"Such a perfect pussy…never fucking using that Box again…not when I have this…" he breathes pressing his body against hers so they are flush, his nose running up the side of her neck.

"Ettore, please…"

It's not really a request, just something that passes her lips. And he knows the second he feels her clench so tightly that she's done for, when her back arches towards him and her body goes rigid for a split second.

Her teeth sink into his skin at his shoulder, muffling the scream of pleasure that threatens to escape. He knows that will be there for days and it will most definitely hurt in the morning.

A gush of arousal soaks his cock and he continues to pound into her through it, pressing his thumb into her clit, extending her little death into a devastating abyss of warmth and rapture. Her walls quiver with overstimulation around him, and he can feel the wetness of her tears on his shoulder, her desperate whines.

"Fuck-shit" Ettore pushes inside once more, hard, with a barely stifled groan, huffing a pleasured laugh at the feeling of stuffing her with his cum and the warmth that surrounds him.

He wants to stay like that forever, keeping his cum inside her with his cock. Her thighs shake slightly, and he delights in the fact that she might not be able to walk afterwards. To remind her who she belongs to, now that he's claimed her.

He calms his hurried breathing just enough to pull his rapidly softening cock from her, earning a low whine from her once she pulls her teeth from him. Her tits move slowly with her breathing, thighs still shaking ever so slightly and parted to give him a good view of the mess he's made of her.

Her arousal combined with the cum that's leaking out of her activates a primal part of his brain and he's tempted to fuck her brains out again, but knows he wouldn't be able to.

Another time.

"Look at my filthy little doctor" 

He pulls her thighs close to him, teetering on the edge of the table, and all she's able to do is make a sound of surprise, eyes widening as he sinks to his knees between her legs.

"No-no, Ettore-" she protests quickly. Her hands going back to bracing the counter tightly when she feels his warm, wet muscle lapping against her soaked folds, a combination of her climax and his swirling over his tongue with such lewdness it makes her flush bright red.

After such a recent and all-consuming orgasm, she flinches when his tongue swirls over her clit, the vibrations of his low moans against it feels much too overwhelming now.

"Please-too much-"

He runs his tongue flat over her core, groaning at the combined taste of them and lapping up whatever leaks out of her. He could spend fucking days between her legs if she tastes like this all the time. Her arousal is so sweet and tart, musky when combined with his. Mixed with his cum, he thinks, she's made to be fucked by him. Made to be filled.

Fucking her with his tongue through her fluttering walls, her hand cards through his hair, tugging. To push him away or to bring him closer, she's torn between the two. The warmth of his mouth against her is just too tempting to want him to stop and when he moves his face side to side, his sharp nose nuzzling against her already over-used clit…

"Fuck! Please-"

The orgasm that rocks through her body blazes every nerve in its path, all the way down to the way his tongue is still lapping and sucking her juices, as if she's the best thing he's tasted since boarding this hellscape of a ship. He takes every bit of essence, sighing and moaning, with a grip so iron on her thighs, she can't move even if she wanted to.

Ettore rises to his feet, giving one more flattened lap over her core, sucking at her clit, which makes her twitch. Her glazed over, wettened eyes meet his, the blue almost entirely encompassed by black. He looks like an animal who's just tasted blood again after a long time of being caged. She doesn't entirely know why, but it makes her throb with desire, and it frightens even her to know that such a dangerous man, a criminal no less, is making her feel this way.

It makes her think, is she any better for enjoying it as much as she did.

He looks down at her, almost entirely bared to him, his reddened marks blossoming over her skin in early bruises. Her fucked-out face, a mix of lust and confusion, with that tell-tale pink to her cheeks.

A dangerous grin widens across his face.

"I meant it you know…" he says, dark and low, "...I'm not using that fucking Box ever again"

General Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics

Ettore Taglist:

*Let me know if you want to be added to any taglist! Bold means I couldn’t tag, if I can't tag you you can always turn on notifications for when I post. DM me if you wanna be removed besties

[tommydarlings]

my brother's biggest rival | m.v

pairing: mean!dom!max x sub!hamilton!reader

warnings: smut, face slapping, dacryphilia, chocking, orgasm denial

w/c: 1.3k

summary: you honestly just wanted to watch your brother race in the Mercedes garage but the man you are secretly dating, who’s also your brother's biggest rival, wasn’t so happy with that and decided to show you in which garage you're supposed to stand next time in.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +20 works) <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

“Look at me.” Max ordered you, hand now tightly grabbing your throat and making sure that you're not able to look away.

Even though your kneecaps were already hurting quite a bit, you did not care about the redness that was slowly covering them, was more about the redbull driver standing infront of you, staring down at your kneeling figure with dark, demanding eyes.

“Why am I mad at you, huh?” Max asked you in a deep tone, raising his eyebrows, “C'mon, open your bratty mouth and say something useful for once.” The redbull driver told you angrily.

You gulped before you bit your lip, eyes still focused on the redbull driver's ones.

In a slow motion, you shook your head,

“I don’t know.” The more time you’ve spent with the ruthless and aggressive redbull driver that got an almost unbearable attitude, the more you acted just like him.

And the biggest rival of your brother hated that.

“Oh!” Max laughed ironically. “Am i supposed to tell you now what you’ve done just a few hours ago even though I asked you nicely not to do it?” The dutch driver asked you with a tiny grin, hand around your throat squeezing your delicate skin even tighter and tighter by every silent second that went by where you didn’t give him an answer.

You shyly nodded, knowing that it will get you in even deeper and more trouble but oh were you seeking trouble right now.

“Please, yeah.”

Max smiled as he stared down at your now not so obeying figure anymore, hand around your throat slowly leaving your red and hot skin.

But then you noticed that you should probably hit the brakes. Because then, max slapped you right across the face, making your head shoot the side before you bit the inner side of your cheek, now growing really, really nervous.

Maybe you should have really hit the brakes because if somebody would ask you now if you regret not obeying him, you would say yes in a matter of seconds.

With one hand around your throat and the other one pulling your head by your hair back, max gazed down at you, forcing you to straighten your figure a bit and look up at the redbull driver.

“I asked you nicely to stand next the boys in the redbull garage, watching me destroying the hopes for an 8th world champion ship for you brother once again but you had to stand next to Toto and mick in the Mercedes garage, you stupid.” Slap. “Little.” Slap. “Bitch.” Slap. Voice stern and clear as he scolded you like a little girl.

“I am Lewis's sister, max. And if my brother asks me to watch him win-”

“Lose.” He corrected you.

You gulped and briefly closed your eyes, “Lose, then I’ll stand in his team's garage and watch him race. Nobody knows of our relationship, max! Don’t you think it’s suspicious when the sister of Lewis Hamilton is all of a sudden standing in the redbull garage, closely watching her brother's biggest rival race!” You raised your voice at him.

Suddenly, max pulled your body up and onto your feet by your neck, pushing you roughly against against the wall in his hotel room, lips now almost touching your forehead while you could only look at his chest, palms forming fists next to your hips.

The two of you only breathed. In and out. His eyes gazing down at your smaller figure while you were only able to stare at his chest, hands slowly reaching up to wrap around his wrist that was around your throat.

You raised your head and locked eyes with max, “Next time I’ll watch you, I promise.” You told him quietly before max leaded the two of you into the direction of the rather big bed, throwing you onto it.

Then, he threw himself on top of you and explored your body for the probably hundredth time with his big hands, gliding them all over your skin — over your arms, over your breasts, over your belly, over your hips, just everywhere.

You moaned and furrowed your brows as max's lips attacked your neck, kissing and biting your soft skin, slowly going up to your jaw and then down to your chest, hands now going to work and removing your jeans and thong, throwing it somewhere in the small hotel room.

While you were busy with focusing on the feeling of max's lips creating the biggest and darkest hickeys onto your neck and chest, max's fingers slowly rubbed your clit in very soft but strong motions, making you gulp and squeeze your eyes shut.

Your threw your head back as soon as you felt his fingers slowly entering you, “F-Fuck max, please.” You whined quietly, fingers having the soft sheets in a tight grip as he went faster and faster.

Max groaned as he heard your whining, he lifted his head and looked down at you, other hand now on your red cheek.

“Open.” He ordered quietly, gaze now focused on his moving fingers and your facial expressions.

But you were so far gone already, so deep in your own little world of pleasure that you weren’t even able to hear his words, ignoring him as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, slowly feeling your orgasm coming.

Max didn’t like that, not one bit. You usually always listened to him so he did what he did earlier to grab your attention. The redbull driver slowly lifted his hand and slapped you, for the fifth time today, across the face, making you put at least a tiny part of your attention to him.

“Listen to me when I tell you something or do you want me to slap you even more, huh?” He asked you with a tilt of head, fingers in your pussy now going a bit slower but even deeper making you see stars as you tried to concentrate on his words.

“Oh, f-fuck! Please max, o-oh my god, please!” You whined loudly but your whining stopped as soon as max's hand slapped your face again, putting his middle and ring finger in your mouth afterwards and pressing them down onto your tongue, immediately shutting you up.

“Shut the fuck up or do you want your brother, who’s sleeping right next to this room, hear his little sister moaning and whining, huh?” You quickly shook your head, apologising.

“That’s what I thought.” He told you before he leaned down and spit on your clit, rubbing it all over your little, desperate bud before he went back fingering you again.

Your breathing got heavier, you felt like you weren’t able to breath but at the same time you felt like you were flying, seeing stars as max's hand left your mouth and put itself around you throat, pushing your body further down into the mattress as he focused himself entirely on your wet pussy.

He put his gaze back on your face, “You're gonna tell me when you're gonna cum, you understand me?” He told you harshly while you were desperately trying to listen to him and focus on his voice.

You nodded, “Please don’t stop, max!” Voice already hoarse and raspy from all the moaning and whining.

He bit his lip before you noticed his tiny smirk, hoping that he heard you and follows what you're begging for.

But that was not the case.

He stopped his fingers right before you were ready to release, grabbing your chin with one hand and brushing the hair out of your sweaty, wet face with the other one, eyes looking into yours.

“P-Please max, p-please-”

“I am only gonna let you cum if you’ll watch me destroying your brothers racing career next time.” Max told you in a deep and clear tone.

You gulped and swallowed your pleadings down, tears blurring your vision as you opened your mouth,

“O-Okay.”

“That’s my good girl.” Kissing your tears away.

[rrylies]

altan isn't a violent person at his core it was just what other people have always seen him as because he's speerly, and for some reason the speerlies have a savage connotation when we have no proof that they were actually animals in the sense that other people keep describing them as. im sure that we only get the savage speerly stereotype because as a people, they were fundamentally different from the nikara and the mugenese. and since they were all (mostly) dead at the start of book one, who was going to negate all of these stereotypes? no one. (i could go on about how altan was slapped with the "last speerly" moniker when in reality he probably remembers very little about his culture and what speer was like before all of the war and the death but that's for another time <3)

even back in his days of sinegard altan isnt depicted as a particularly violent person, though he's placed in violent events. like in the fighting pits at night altan is pitted up against his peers who want to fight him at a chance at victory, to prove that they've won a battle against the last speerly and we have no idea if altan actually wants to fight them or if he's forced to (iirc it's highly suggested that irjah baits him into fighting by promising him opium if he wins, and he will, because he always does) (although that could've just been nezha being a dick) and even though altan shows no signs of violence or aggression (he's always depicted as calm, stoic, etc) he's always painted as something less than human, an animal simply because ??? he wins their fights? as if that's not something he's expected to do in the first place. ("how did he do that? isn't he human?" "he isn't, he's speerly" this quote. ARGHARAGH RABAN ILY BUT SHUT UPPP)

and back to the stereotypes of speerlies and why they're painted as rabid animals even though there's no proof that they are. the main thing i can think of rn is how the federation (+ the mugenese) think of them simultaneously as something divine and to be studied but also as these rabid beasts at the same time. like the federation soldiers are clearly afraid of fire / the speerlies (i have a separate hc that their culture has something to do with this but that is also for another time <3) shiro mentions how precious and important the speerlies are (and yet his people bombed altan's? ://) while taking every opportunity he can to pick altan apart. then people wonder why altan's vicious towards the federation and hates them with every fiber of his being and why he has so much pent-up anger within him and it's like, hello?? they took him captive when he was a child, and sent him to the laboratory with shiro where he would spend half of his life being cut open and dissected, injected with opium time and time again, forced to watch his people die off one by one without the knowledge that he was the last until after he'd been rescued. (this still gets me btw no im not in tears) and then even when he's out, his suffering isn't over, (it's never over lets be real) because he's shipped off to sinegard academy where he'll be surrounded by so many different conflicting stereotypes (the nikara think he's an animal because he's speerly but shiro thought he was amazing because he was speerly, because of his connection to the phoenix) and really, he's not violent, not at his core, but i cant imagine the inner turmoil altan went through his first few years out of the lab + his first year at sinegard where he was the only one who was different (and also fighting an opium addiction at the same time and people belittle him over this when it literally wasn't his fault)

like altan was not violent. he was calm and he had his moments of peace, but ultimately because of everything that had happened to him (cough. shiro u motherfucker), the violence was forced out of him and became all he knew ("chaghan said they trained you like a dog at the academy" ://) and he literally didn't know any better, he was failed by every single person who should have helped him. (never getting over this btw)

yin riga, a man who he trusted, sent him away to shiro. (will never not think of how much little five year old altan trusted riga and then. well.) jiang, who was supposed to help him with his connection to the phoenix, shunned him. irjah, who was his supposed caretaker, who only fed his opium addiction in order to control him, just like how shiro did, just like how the nikara did to the speerlies (parallels. yaaay.)

in the end altan trengsin wasn't a violent person, but it was all anyone wanted to see. it was all anyone would remember him by.

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 7

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here.

If I see this necklace on Charles later, *dragging finger across throat*

There is a barrier between y'all, so I'm hoping one of you has decided to come to your senses and tell the truth to Alan and Babe. Jeffrey is seeing accidents, so Jeffrey, hopefully you are seeing the light of truth too and will confess to Alan!

I like you, Way. I like you too much knowing damn well that you are lying, but you don't seem as red as before. It looks a little hot pink-ish now. Maybe because you're sad that Babe doesn't love you.

Get hit with the blinding light of love for this Blue Boy sitting next to you who has apparently been in love with you for years according to that pink from the last episode.

Peter, I TRUST YOU! Don't do me like this! This is pink, right? RIGHT? It's pink. You're in love with Waymond, and this is pink, not red. Pink.

I'm ignoring the Gucci red watchband because the way Peter is looking at Waymond and the fact that he put blue on Waymond is all I need to know that Peter sits at the same table with Kimberly, Kenta, and Alan as the people I trust.

How long have you been in love with him, Pete? The pink already snitched on you. Just tell me! Or did you leave it on the note? That'd be too easy. But that note better have said "Hey, I just 'met' you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe?" I ship it!

Kimberly! You've been a lot less red lately. The blues are gonna need a driver soon if Jeffrey's vision is right. You should apply!

KENTA IS RIGHT THERE, KIMBERLY! Lose focus and have a consensual workplace relationship.

Wait a minute? It's Decanus and . . . there's only one man who consistently wears black, but I refuse to believe that he would meet with Decanus. No. That's another man in black. I cannot see the faces clearly, so I will not accuse *sobs* Kenta.

These two are best friends. I can tell.

AHHHH! Charles is meeting with Big Red, yet he is wearing blue! Is he being kidnapped? No. He just walked away. But now he is surrounded by blue. Charles!!!!! I know you are lying, but the blue is saying . . . something! But Big Red is listening.

Oh thank, God! Way is turning over a new leaf and committing to being a blue boy. Good.

No. NO! Barbara, I know you are upset at Charles for lying (which your super spidey senses should have alerted you about because the red was there), but why do you keep doing this to Way? He was committed to the blue! Pete likes him. Stop!

NO, WAYMOND, NO! JUST LET BABE BE SAD AND MISERABLE. DON'T DO IT!

Tell him to get his hands off of you, Barbie! That's how they keep getting you! Do not fall for his bullshit!

Is this story about Charlie?! OH SHIT! *telenovela fall to the floor*

I don't want you to get slapped, Kentana, but there is only one man who wears black consistently, and that's you. You ARE planning something with Decanus, aren't you?! Do. Not. Hurt. Barbie. I trust you!

Oh shit! Barbie is realizing it's the touches! I tried to warn you, homie. I did. I said, "Barbie, don't let them touch you!" Now, figure out that Waymond keeps touching you too. Don't get dickmatized again. I need you to stay focused! BARBIE, FOCUS! Waymond. Superpowers. Punch them!

Barbara, the dick is not that good for you to forgive him already! Barbara, I'm so mad at you right now. I'm only rooting for Kimberly and Alan now. You and Kentana are on my shit list.

Did the note from Peter ask for a date?! Waymond, horrible choice of red roses with a red ribbon for a date with Peter or . . . is this your villain era? No! This is a date with Peter! *dances happily*

I mean this from the depth of my soul - Whatever happens now, you're on your own, Barbara. You figured out what Charles was doing to you, and you are just cool with it? I know he, too, had a crappy childhood, but he did all that without your consent, and you're okay with it? The red is still there! He just took from you something you can't get back, without your consent. This is metaphorical, and I wish you, a fictional character, could see that.

Did Peter really not show up for y'alls date?! Did something happen to Pete?! WHERE IS HE?! Did Big Red kidnap him?! Wait, Peter can text but not show up for a date? I don't believe it.

I'm gonna break my own rule, and translate the text messages because I have no colors to guide me, and I'm very confused why Peter would not show up when he has been in love with Waymond for awhile. The colors don't lie. Peter would show up!

Google Translate: "Sorry, I just finished clearing things up with Charlie" Wait a minute. Charlie? Was Waymond texting Babe because he was sad Peter didn't show up for dinner? This still doesn't make sense.

Or . . . Waymond's at his and Babe's restaurant, and Babe said "sorry." It wasn't a date with Peter was it? This was a date with . . . oh, you have to be shitting me. PETER IS RIGHT THERE IN LOVE WITH YOU, PENDEJO!

I'm in no mood for North and Sonic's color shenanigans. I'm too pissed off to even yell at Sonic for wearing red over the blue. Whatever. Be a back-stabber too. No me importa.

WHAT THE FUCK?! NOT KIMBERLY!

If anything happens to Kimberly, I'm burning down this whole site! He's a good one! Kentana, you better get your shit together and save your man! If Kentana and Barbara save Kimberly, I'll take them off my shit list. Even Charles will get some leeway.

Whiny Winifred, why are you pointing a gun at . . . SONIC AND NORTH?! I know I wrote I didn't care about y'all earlier, but I do! Y'all can't die until I figure out what the deal is with y'alls colors!

Barbara is wearing the same outfit in the previews that he is wearing when he punches people in the hallway!

Mission: Save Kim Possible!

[apomaro-mellow]

For dialogue ask 22 and Steddie please

Dialogue Prompts

Eddie plopped onto the couch, even making Steve bounce a little as he did.

"What're we watchin'?"

"Some new documentary everyone at work was raving about", Steve answered. "Popcorn?"

"What's it about?"

"I don't think popcorn has a specific creed or anything."

"The doc you doof", Eddie grinned.

"Hmm, try again."

"The doc, you shimmering, gleaming diamond of a man who I have pledged myself to for all eternity."

"Better. And I don't know, they just said it's about some new historic find", Steve shrugged.

"I think if it's that big a deal we would've been there." Eddie grabbed a handful of popcorn.

"Says the guy who took sooo long to pack we missed one of the biggest ships in the world."

Eddie's eyes got wide and he turned his full body to Steve even as the show was starting. "Are you still angry at me for making us miss the Titanic?"

"I'm glad we didn't get on in the end, but we had a good cabin. And I spent a full week scheduling my outfits to coordinate."

"Only you could find a reason to be mad about not being on a sunken ship."

"Shh, they're explaining."

"We've used the most up to date forensics and if we're correct, this couple has been writing love letters for over a century", said one of the historians.

The narrator added, "While this box of letters was found in the 1950s, the notes are dated back to the 1910s."

“That could be us", Eddie teased.

Steve's jaw had dropped. “That is us.”

Eddie blinked in confusion and turned back to the screen, eyes squinting as the camera panned over love letters. A historian held up a drawing of a nude young man that was censored for audiences.

"This pair of lovers wrote back and forth and a few are even accompanied by some of this tasteful artwork."

Steve slapped Eddie's arm. "I told you the movers forgot a box!"

"Ow! Clearly you weren't missing it, it's been at a museum for years!"

"Now everybody who watches netflix has seen that drawing", Steve bemoaned.

Eddie watched as the historians went through more of their things, trying to piece together their eternal lives. "Well, she did say it was tasteful. And I have to agree."

"I know you like it. It was only meant for you." Steve crossed his arms.

"Imagine me, being so far away, learning a new trade. And I open up the mail and get a gift like that", Eddie leaned over and moved some of Steve's hair to kiss behind his ear.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want you to get lonel-is that my wedding ring?!", Steve pushed Eddie away and stood up to get a closer look at the tv. "I'm calling those collectors right now!"

While he stomped off with his phone to try and figure out who to contact, Eddie's eyes narrowed again.

"That was when we got hitched in the 30s! The one I got you now is way better! Steve! Steve?"

[devirnis]

Okay, after having a few days to process, I am allowing myself one vent post to get it out of my system and then it’s back to ✨positive vibes✨ only

If I see one more goddamn smarmy post about how “the writing was on the wall the whole time” (with the undercurrent of “you were too stupid to see it, I have the only valid interpretation”) I’m going to lose it

Had we not had 8x05, the breakup still would have bummed me out, but I would have said, you know what, fair, we didn’t see a whole lot of their relationship, a lot of it was fanon and headcanons. We had a good run. But we did get 8x05, apparently some of it filmed out of order knowing a breakup was coming, and what was the point? To be cruel? It felt like a slap in the face to people who liked that relationship.

They could have laid some groundwork to show some cracks in the relationship, but no. Ignoring disingenuous interpretations from people who have been rooting for the ship to crash and burn since day one, 8x05 established Buck & Tommy as a solid couple. Tommy gets along with Eddie, the three of them had great chemistry together. Tommy takes care of Buck when he’s hurt. Tommy thinks the curse is a bunch of bs (as does Eddie) but still went with Buck to have a funeral for a mummy. It’s like I watched someone cook an elaborate, delicious dinner for me and then they immediately threw it in the trash, and other people around me made fun of me for being blindsided and upset because I should have seen that coming.

I won’t pretend the general audience is a monolith who all have the same opinions. I’m sure there are people who don’t care and just shrugged their shoulders that another relationship of Buck’s fizzled out. But I have 2 friends who watch the show and aren’t Fandom Fans, and they are always my barometer for how people who don’t have brain rot (affectionate) feel about the show. One really liked the relationship, the other was neutral to mildly negative on it, and both of them agreed that it felt like the breakup came out of nowhere and made no sense given the context of the previous episode. So please stop pretending that it’s only BT fandom fans who have their knickers in a twist about how it played out.

If this isn’t leading to buddie, then I don’t want to see another love interest for either Buck or Eddie for the rest of the show. Tommy had so much potential to break the cycle of Buck’s love interests (and interviews from last season seem to support that they were aware of this and planning on utilizing that) and throwing it away feels like such a waste.

So yeah, instead of being just bummed, I’m pissed. I do not know if there was BTS drama or if Tim got some other grand idea for Buck’s storyline this season — but given how plots are adopted and dropped at rapid fire pace this season (something I was willing to forgive last season because of the shortened production timeline and fewer episodes), I’m highly skeptical that there’s any sort of overarching plan here.

I’ve never thought buddie would actually happen on the show, but I also never thought either Buck or Eddie would ever be anything other than straight, so I’d be happy to be proven wrong. I’m just a little jaded by seeing people doing a victory lap convinced that buddie canon is imminent when I think that they are giving the writers a lot more credit than they deserve for supposedly crafting this epic love story for the last five or so years when a lot of that is also just generous fanon interpretation. I need explicit confirmation within the show by the end of this season that at least one of them has caught feelings or I’m over entertaining the possibility it will actually happen.

I know the joy will come back. But I really hope the same plot lines playing out ad nauseam for every character stops because I’m getting a little tired.