#need to fix up the strap he's holding the punisher by

[spectre-draws]

Wolfwood WIP. Stubble goes on last.

[imedited]

Imagine, Dom!Simon Riley punishing you for disobeying him.

He blindfolded you and strapped your wrists and legs down the bed, making you unable to move as he took it as an opportunity to put as many toys on and in you as possible.

A seven inch vibrating dildo plunged deep inside your cunt as a shell vibrator is strapped on your clit and a clamp on both of your nipples. And if it wasn't enough yet, Dom!Simon walks around you with a leather flogger in hand, slapping it on your body, making your body even more sensitive.

You moan out loudly as he increases the intensity of the dildo inside you, making you cum again. You don't know how many times it has been or for how long it has been going,you just kept cumming over and over again as he continues to over stimulate you.

“P-please,I can't do it anymore, I won't do it anymore, I-I behave from now on." You whimpered, trying to plead with him, but it was only met with a cruel laughter followed by him hitting your breasts with the flogger, making you moan and cry out. “P-please,I c-can't cum anymore."

“Really?" Dom!Simon said as he chuckled darkly as you can hear him walking around you until he stopped after a few steps.

It was silent,only the sounds of the machines could be heard until you suddenly felt him pushing the dildo inside inside you making you cry even louder as you squirted. Your body was shuddering and trembling violently as you shot out your orgasm all over your body, making yourself wet.

“See? You said you couldn't cum anymore, you're lying to me,I think you should be punished even more,huh?” He said he roughly pulled the toys out from you and threw them across the room,before you could even say anything, he suddenly thrusted his cock inside you making you gasp loudly.

“My little girl, already learned how to lie to her master, we definitely need to fix that right away." He whispered,his voice laced with lust and malice as he began to pound into you aggressively.

You cried loudly and begged him to go slower and be gentle but he ignored it all. He continues to increase the intensity,his hands gripping your hips tightly,leaving marks on it as he holds on tightly to keep you in place. Your pussy is already overstimulated but still, you could feel your orgasm building up,ready to explode anything.

Your eyes already rolled back and your mind was blank and hazy from the intensity but he just smirked at you,loving the way that he had finally broken you. He kept thrusting,until you finally came again and he felt your walls clenching around his cock, milking him for his cum. He groaned as he bucked his hips forward, filling up your insides with his hot seeds.

When he finally finished,you were a mess. You've already lost consciousness from overstimulation and your body was covered in sweat in cum. Dom!Simon smirked as he took off the restraints and picked you up from the bed to give you a gentle aftercare.

a/n: I'm seriously sorry for this, I'm bored, ovulating and has nothing to do in life so I wrote this abomination:'))

[vifilms]

hey baby, how’re you? so i just watched bound again, and i was thinking.. corky! ellie and violet! reader.. maybe? and ellie bends reader over counter, spanks her a little, straps her down while reader worries of her husband coming in. but ellie fucks her so good, she’s completely cockdrunk.. just maybe..

bound to fuck | ellie williams

tags: eighteen+, daddy kink, cheating, strap sex, slight voyeurism, degrading, kinda toxic!ellie, breeding kink.

an. i am ovulating and i finished a request in a reasonable amount of time! wowowowow. but hi baby! thank you for the request, i feel like i did a shit job, but i hope you enjoy it. anyways, i'm done starving my abby lovers. beefy blonde coming up next — pic credit.

wooden bookshelves, shelves with his favorite reads or at least presenting himself to be a man of literature. each book filed became decoration, pretty covers with a lot going on, but never something he could actually pick up. not quite deemed worth his time. always trapped in the responsibilities of his den but your husband keeps on a loose leash. truly, it’s his mistake. 

he’d been the one to hire her in the first place. a contractor needed to fix a few mishaps in the house and you couldn’t help yourself. no, not one bit. tattoos scattered randomly across her sun-kissed skin as if done on a whim, freckled shoulders exposed in the white tank top she wore. wet,auburn hair lightly styled with gel, a few strands framing full cheeks. from the first look, she became your nightmare. beautiful green eyes disguised in greed. 

it all happened so quickly, the heat of the moment taking a hold over any sense of responsibility. the sparkling diamond held weight but none in your heart, especially as she bent you over the white stone countertop. pants shoved down to your ankles, her cock wedged deep inside you as you stare at the oak door of your husband’s office just past the common room. 

“is this what you want? fucked like some type of whore, huh?” ellie smacks the fat of your ass, digging blunt nails into your unmarked skin. “last time wasn’t quite good enough. yeah, i know, baby. not very fun when you don’t get to come.” slender hips slam into you again as you whimper, touching a particular sensitive spot for you. 

“i’ve been so good, daddy. please, can i cum tonight?” ellie more than surprised with your manners. not even having to remind you of how to speak with her. you give in — granted, she’s already fucking you into another dimension. “i-i, c-can’t, fuck, s’hard to talk.” 

“and why is it sweetheart? can’t keep up?” ellie sends another slap to your ass, claiming the skin with her touch. gripping  your hips, she brings you back over her cock as her hips roll. “s’good for. yeah? always need daddy’s cock inside you. your husband can’t fucking satisfy you even if mine is made of plastic.” maliciously, she chuckles and you feel your cunt pulsate. crying for a release, practically begging. 

“ah—” you try to compose yourself but ellie shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. she pushes too far, sometimes. getting off to your crook husband in the other room, completely unaware his wife is getting fucked by the hired help. “els, stop being so cruel.” 

“hm, why so glum? it’s not like you actually give a fuck. pussy just needs to be filled by me. if you can’t fucking handle it, maybe you should grovel back to his medicore dick.” she leans over you, takes a breath before whispering in your ear. “what’s it gonna be, angel? want me to finish or want to go back to faking it?” 

meanwhile her pace is punishing, bringing you closer to the precipice of completion. slyly slipping her hand between your legs, toying with your clit as you gasp. “sh, baby. tell me what you want. want me to slip out and let him finish you off?” 

“fuck no.” softly, you moan her name. “want your cock, no one else’s.” 

“you sure? not afraid of being caught? could come at any moment.” the double innuendo is lost on you as you feel the familiar build in your stomach. “could spoil it, maybe. watch me as i fuck my pussy. your pussy belongs to me angel. daddy’s good girl, only mine.” 

the noise of your wet slick echoes, you know you’re close. ellie has gotten you there enough to know it too. “c’mon, i’ll do what the old fuck can’t. put a baby inside this pretty belly of yours. make sure you come home with me. forever knocked up and fucking mine.” you cum at her words, body twitching in bright white light. your vision blurred as you slump against the countertop. 

gently, she presses a kiss to the nape of you neck. your body heaving, attempting to catch your breath. “it’s okay, angel. s’good for me, yeah? mhm, s'alright. i got you.” her calloused hands smooth over your soft skin, taking her time to bring you back down to earth. “wanna go again?” 

you nod, glad she can’t see the stupid smile on your face. “better be loud this time. i mean it. you’re coming home with me tonight.” 

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Severed Innocence

~ Stanford Pines/Male!Reader ~ Horror/Gore (Day 3) ~ Implied fucked up romance. ~ 2k words TW/CW: DISTURBING CONTENT. Stanford yandere behavior, obsession, HEAVILY implied religious-esq worship, dehumanizing reader? kidnapping, suggestive comment, noncon kiss at the end, implied cannibalism. If Tumblr had a dead dove tag, this could probably classify. Proceed with caution. NOT CANON TO THE GRAVITY FALLS STORYLINE. An alternate AU. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How long had it been since that night? You were perfect. You were His devoted creation. What ever happened to you? You couldn’t remember. Who were you? Furthermore, *what* were you? A possession. His treasure. His prized creation, that’s what. Stanford cherished you. He put in the effort to make you into something great; something that could withstand even the harshest of punishments. Ones that couldn’t harm your physical being, of course. He knew that. He had never dreamt of causing your pain, but sometimes things needed to happen in order to take steps forward. You knew that, right? It didn’t seem so. A flaw. One single kink in a wire to cause His charade to come crumbling to pieces. What a shame… you were so close to being perfect. Everything He’d put his life’s work towards, all for this? He was upset. But, not at you –*Never* at you– At his own failures. Of course wires were bound to kink once inserted into the muscular system. A simple mistake on His part. He’d just have to fix it and kiss away your tears later. You had known Stanford for a long while. At least, you think so. It’s hard to discern what’s real and what Stanford had put into your head. You vaguely recall meeting him and F[REDACTED] in…what was it again? Why couldn’t you just remember? It’s not like Stanford could tell you the truth. No.. that’d just be spitting in the face of all of His carefully crafted lies! Meeting some little weirdo, “Fiddleford”, meeting His brother hiding in some motel–the failure that he is–even going to college with Him. He’d made it all up. After graduating from West Coast Tech, going back to New Jersey to brag catch up with His family, especially to see how little Sherman was faring. Stanley had tried and failed to break His perpetual motion machine when they were younger, which almost got him kicked out, but Filbrick, for once, had mercy. Though, they never talked anymore. He decided to move to a quaint town in Oregon called ‘Gravity Falls’ in search of pure solitude. It was quiet..mostly. Right up until He met you. Truthfully, He didn’t remember the exact meeting. He was getting older now, but He knew you wouldn’t care. You couldn’t. You were unable to. Though, despite the fuzziness, He remembered becoming immediately enamored with you. The way you spoke, the way you gesticulated, your hair, your smile, your voice..and right then, He decided He needed to have you. He’d spent a fair few nights rutting into His pillow, just thinking about you, right up until He got the courage to finally break into your house one very special night. You were so cute when you slept, how was He supposed to just leave you there?

Ever since, Stanford had been nothing but loving to you. Keeping you fed, housing you, bathing you, holding you. Up until the night you found an old picture of him with a clone? ‘Stan O’ War’.. What a silly name. He looked so young then. But, deeper inside the drawer, there were notes. Things about human anatomy, notes on conductivity of wires and tubing, the boiling point of blood, the symptoms of shock, all sorts of prototypes on his crafts… you became aware of what you shouldn’t have.

Stanford thought you were trying to spite Him. How could you try to peel the wires out of your arm? The ones He’d meticulously put into you with such care? Didn’t you love Him? He hated having to restrain you, but it was for your own good. Why couldn’t you see that? Having to strap you down with a chain around your limbs and your throat, to the wide table in the center of His “lab”, as He calls it.

“Why do you make me do this to you, sweetpea? You know how much I hate hurting you...” Stanford coos as He gently pinches your cheek in His calloused, six-fingered hand. His other hand securing a leather strap over your forehead, keeping your head still. “Let me go!” you plead, but a harsh slap across the cheek forces you to shut up again.

Stanford’s brow furrows in irritation, tugging the slack of the belt to make sure the strap is tight. He wouldn’t want you escaping and accidentally hurting yourself, after all.

“Good boys remember their place, doll.” He scolds as He maneuvers His hand down to the base of your skull, burying His fingers in your hair, feeling around for something unknown to you. “Reprogramming you could take a while.” Stanford muses to Himself, a grin splitting across His lips as His fingertips finally locate His small microchip in your skin. It was the first time He brought your attention to it; knowing your sudden tendency to pick at His work to pull it out of your skin, He didn’t want to risk it whilst you were unrestrained.

“Reprogramming..?” You mumble with a thick swallow, feeling a lump in your throat as terror rips through you. Stanford only nods, as if He hadn’t inserted a chip into your spinal column. Admittedly, He’d made you more android than human.

After that first night He’d kidnapped brought you home, you fought like an animal. That’s no way for a pet to act, He felt. What, with all of your thrashing and biting and screaming, He couldn’t just leave you like that. He took time out of His life, time you never appreciated, to meticulously shape you back together. He made you perfect. You were nothing without His work. If He was everything, your Savior, what were you?

“I tried to be nice to you.” Stanford grunts as he moves just out of your field of view. You can hear the stretch of elastic, which you assume to be gloves, and the clatter of metal against metal. “I tried to treat you with care. I even tried to give you a little freedom to fully express what little humanity you had left.”

Tugging against your chains, your heart sped up. You needed to get out of here. This guy was nuts. Your head was still foggy, as if you’d just woken up from a long nap. You could hardly remember much of your past anymore, but it didn’t matter in the moment. Your breathing was ragged in your panic, your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Still.” Stanford finally comes back into your view, pulling a metal service cart with him. A gloved hand wrapping around your forearm, His thumb digging in painfully into your skin, with intent to stop your writhing. “You were so close to becoming complete. Something desirable.” He spits harshly, lip curling back into a sneer. You were such a pretty boy. It was a damn shame you made Him do this to you. “Though, I’m not surprised you turned out this way. Always so defiant, you were…” Stanford mumbles under his breath, finally pulling His hand from your arm as you begin to freeze up, trusting you won’t struggle anymore. “But it’s okay!” He reassures. It was like a switch had been flipped. From being the nastiest man God you’d ever met, to washing away your woes in an instant. “It’s okay, because I can fix you again!” He explains, a prideful glint in his yellow eyes. Black pupils dilating immensely as a grin splits across His face. “I’ll untangle everything inside you. I can put you back together!” “But,” He continues. “It might hurt a little bit.” Picking up another leather strap off of His cart, He leans over and forces it between your teeth to bite down on. You don’t really have much of a choice. The feeling of your molars sinking into the fibers of the leather belt makes your skin prickle with goosebumps of discomfort, your tears starting to fall.

“You'll be fine, sweetpea.. You'll be fixed in no time.” Stanford whispers, swiping a thumb across your tear streaked cheek in hopes to comfort you. He can feel His heart clench in His chest, just wanting to hold you again, but that would have to wait.

Turning back to His cart, He picks up the shiny scalpel, running His index finger over the sharp blade scrutinizingly. He wouldn't want it to be dull when He begins to cut.

Moving His hand back down to your forearm, feeling exactly for the knot in your wire. His fingers trailing up and down your skin, gentle caresses in contrast to His intentions.

Finally sinking His blade into your skin, cutting through you with ease. In an instant, your blood begins to seep out of the burning wound. Your muffled screams ring out behind the belt stuffed between your teeth, trying helplessly to tug at your restraints, making your chains rattle around your neck and throat.

Stanford cuts into your flesh with ease, yellow eyes peering down at you scrutinizingly. His blade cuts through each layer of flesh with a surgeon-like precision. The sound of your blood hitting the floor echoes in your head, each drop falling into the blossoming puddle.

“Such a good boy..” He murmurs under his breath, not entirely sure you could hear Him over your thrashing. Your vision starts to tunnel as His blade sinks into your muscle, finally reaching the wires inside. The minute kink was enough to make you short circuit, it seems.

Your muscle spasms as it's cut into, your brain protesting against it but unable to stop it. From the bend of your elbow, to the inside of your wrist, gaped like a fish, down to the bone.

Stanford gingerly pulls apart your skin and muscle to see down inside you, it makes His heart race and pants tighten with a twisted satisfaction. Grinning madly as His finger tips caress your bone, He can't help himself. Leaning down and sweetly kissing your exposed bone, your tangy blood coating His lips.

“I could just eat you up, doll. You taste just as good as you look.” He whispers, His tongue darting out and lapping at your blood. Standing up straight again, His fingers prod painfully at your muscle, pulling the tendons apart like shredded chicken, spotting the wire much more easily.

Setting His bloody scalpel down, letting you bleed freely onto the floor, He picks up His tweezers, using them to press-bend the wire, straightening it out again.

“There we go. Now, was that so hard?” Stanford inquires rhetorically, chuckling to himself. His voice rings in your ears, your brain trying desperately to block out the searing pain shooting up your arm. You'd stopped crying by now, which definitely makes Him feel better.

Replacing His tweezers with a needle and thread, He pushes the needle tip into your tendons, working meticulously to sew everything back together. The pain is almost dull in comparison, your hand feeling like pins and needles stabbing into it from nerve damage.

His fingertips feel hot to the touch, melting right through His gloves, pressing right up against your exposed blood vessels, but you can hardly think long enough to understand what's going on. Searing your vessels back together with an inhuman ability. He's experienced, but not enough to fix *everything*.

Sewing your muscles closed around your bone, followed by your skin. Though, instead of wiping you clean, He leans back down and runs His tongue over your fresh stitches, feeling the cross pattern weaving in and out of your flesh.

Your frazzled brain can hardly register it anymore. Stanford's presence is one your brain tries to block out entirely, but His yellow eyes pierce your subconscious. Trailing slimy kisses up your arm, leaving bloody kiss prints up your bicep, over your clothed pectoral muscle, your cheek, then your lips, even if you don't kiss back.

One of His hands slides up your chest, to the back of your neck, then to the base of your skull, feeling for that same chip and pressing the tiny button. In an instant, it feels like your pain is swept away, returning to your numb, complaint state. The wires in your muscles connect back to your chip, your programming forcing you to remain obedient, like a good pet should, as you kiss Him back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tumblr was FIGHTING with me on this one gang Return to masterlist

[levisjinchuriki]

enemies with benefits 

summary: unresolved sexual tension between you and levi cause trouble in the workplace. 

warning: dom!levi, sub!reader, cursing, levi being mean to the reader, spanking, choking, multiple orgasm denials, overstimulation, hair pulling, biting, fingering, dacryphilia, oral (fem receiving) 

word count: 2.4k

your relationship with levi is a complicated one. you respect each other as captains, but when it comes to tolerating each other you just can’t. you both have sour attitudes and it makes being in a room together almost impossible. to make matters worse you can never agree on anything. it infuriates erwin, but he insists on pairing you up until you can eventually work through your hatred. he claims that you sometimes have to work with enemies to achieve a greater goal. 

amongst other things you know there’s some unresolved sexual tension between you. it’s obvious how he will always stare at you and pick fights for no reason. you’re to blame, too. you like to get levi all riled up. you enjoy watching his nostrils flare when he’s had enough of your banter. and the bass in his voice when he would yell at you was sexy, you can’t deny it. 

even hange has had enough of your banter. you both follow the section commander to a spare office and are instructed that you’ll both be relieved of your duties until you can work together properly. with that the door closes. levi, being obsessed with his work, is desperate to fix the issue between you. 

“are you happy now?”, levi crosses his arms at you. his tone sends shivers down your spine. you hope you can rile him up enough to make him act out of character. with the exception of you, levi is always so composed. he doesn’t let many things bother him to the point of making it noticeable. but he can’t help it with you and you love it. 

“what do you mean, captain?”, you ask innocently. there’s a smile on your lips as he glares at you. he knows you’re mocking him by using a title you both share.

“you’re infuriating”, he tells you. levi glares you down as he comes close to you. “if you have something to get off your chest you better say it now”, he threatens. there have been so many unspoken words between you and levi. so many questions that needs answers. why had you started to hate each other in the first place? you’re not sure, but that’s how it’s always been. he’s wants answers, needs answers so he can get back to work. but you’re not one to make things easy for him. instead, you tilt your head and act like you don’t know what he’s talking about. 

he stares daggers into you. levi isn’t in the mood to be playing around. his hand finds your neck and holds it in a firm grip. levi presses forward until your back is pushed up against the wall. you fail to hide your smile as you bite your lip. he’s getting mad. how exciting. 

“stop acting like a brat if you know what’s good for you”, levi growls. you can’t help but let out an amused hum.

“this isn’t much of a punishment, levi”. your voice is velvety as his name spills from your lips. “if you knew me at all you’d know i like being choked”, you laugh at him. this sets him off. his efforts to make you crack are backfiring. your smart comments are infuriating him to no end. 

“punishment?”, he laughs with no humor behind it. “is that what you want?”. your eyes light up as his become darker. you’re a sucker for a good discipline now and then. with how much you and levi fight- it’s long overdue. 

you squeeze your thighs together subconsciously. it’s not missed by levi. he lets go of the grip he has on your throat but quickly busies himself with tugging your brown scout jacket off your shoulders and undoing the straps of your uniform. the action turns you on, but also puzzles you. he should be giving you a piece of his mind, but instead he’s starting to undress you. 

“what are you doing?”, you question. you’re not trying to stop him by any means, especially since he’s now roughly pulling your pants down your waist, but you’re not sure how taking off your clothes is a punishment. levi ignores your question. he crouches down and forces you to step out of your tight jeans. 

“you look nice on your knees”, you tease. levi throws the article of clothing behind him. 

“shut up”, he orders you. when he makes eye contact with your heat he can already see a pool of arousal on your panties. you weren’t lying when you said he was attractive when he gets angry. 

he scoffs at the sight and rolls his eyes. “you’re pathetic”. he wastes no time in pulling your underwear down and lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. before you can muster a response to his insult his tongue is already on you. it’s warm and wet and harsh as he immediately digs in. his pace is rough and fast, licking you as if he’s a starved man. he’s being selfish, taking what he wants for his own pleasure.

levi digs his fingertips into your thigh as he holds it around his shoulder. you mewl as you feel him on your skin for the first time. his grasp hurts so good. hopefully he leaves bruises. surely this is not what hange means by “working together”. 

as you sink into the wall your hands find purchase in his hair. it’s the perfect length for pulling. the action causes a low groan to escape levi. it’s the deepest, most enticing and dangerous sound you’ve ever heard. 

levi’s tongue moves to your sensitive bud. he decides to torture you. licking, slurping, sucking, biting… no action is done for too long, which makes you crave him even more. you curse under your breath. no one has ever made you feel so good so quickly. it’s almost scary how fast levi is working your body to the brink of an orgasm. 

you gasp as levi surprises you by sticking two fingers into you. you’re so slick that he enters with ease. he’s not gentle as he pumps his digits into you repeatedly. his fingers alone are stretching you out so nicely. the feeling makes you dizzy. the erotic sound of your juices against levi’s soaked fingers ignites him. as much as you try to hold it back, a moan escapes from you. one thing you hate more than levi himself is his arrogance. you’d do just about anything to humble him. he already knows how good of a soldier he is, he doesn’t need to know he’s talented in other aspects as well. 

levi chuckles against you. you hate that you’re stroking his ego, but he’s just so good at satisfying you. the vibrations cause your legs to shake. it hasn’t been that long and you’re already close to coming. how embarrassing. 

“levi”, your voice is filled with need and desire as you warn him about your impending release. he continues his actions, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you're chanting his name over and over again as you hiccup between breaths. your toes feel hot, you're so close. 

just as you’re about to let pleasure take over levi removes his fingers from your tight walls along with his lips. you gasp as the euphoric sensation starts to slip away. “no, no!”, you beg, trying to chase the feeling. your chin touches your chest as you look down. you rake your hands through levi’s hair, pushing his bangs back so you can get a better look at him. his pupils are blown out, lips swollen and cheeks red. his chest heaves up and down as he catches his breath. 

you realize he edged you on purpose, this is the punishment he was talking about earlier. “you asshole”, you weakly whine. your insult is met with a firm slap on the outside of your thigh. you groan in dissatisfaction as the feeling of your orgasm washes away before you have a chance to enjoy it. you squirm in his grasp. levi bites your inner thigh as a warning. he fucking bites you. 

“i never said you would enjoy this, did i?”, he asks, voice hoarse. you whimper. 

levi tortures you by bringing you to the brink of an orgasm before ruining it two more times. the feeling is so intense he has your legs trembling by the end of it. you feel the burn in your abs as they tighten repeatedly. the leg that’s thrown over levi’s shoulder is sore from the position. he’s wearing you out on purpose. 

you push levi’s head away as he disrupts your release yet again. “s-stop”, you cry out. truthfully, you wanted him to keep going, you just wanted his teasing to come to an end. levi pulls back to see the state he’s left you in. your body is twitching, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. tears are brimming your eyes at your multiple denials of finishing on his tongue. 

levi gives you a break. he stands and watches as your knees buckle under you. he’s quick to hold you up, looking over your face with his neutral stare. you look ruined, so pretty. 

“you can handle more, can’t you?”, levi torments. you whine and shake your head. the thought of another edging causes a tear to slip onto your cheek. you’re so desperate. levi watches the drop fall lower and lower against your skin. pleasuring you so well that you cry? the thought turns him on even more. 

“please let me come. i’ll do anything”, you beg. levi tilts his head and narrows his eyes at you. he doesn’t believe you. he can’t name a time where you’ve followed his direction, so why would he trust you now?

“we’ll see about that”, he mumbles as he brings you to the desk in front of the large window. levi bends you over the wood until your chest is pressed against it. you catch your breath as he shuffles behind you. your arousal pools again as you hear a zipper being pulled down. levi strokes himself for a moment as he watches your slick coat your inner thighs. you complain that he’s taking too long and squeeze your legs together. he holds back a moan as more of your slick slowly slips out of you.

“don’t be so impatient”, he scolds. levi’s grip is harsh as he holds onto your hip. his member teases your entrance. you could scream. you need him so bad. 

“levi, i swear- oh!”, your breath catches as he pushes himself halfway into you. your eyes screw shut at the feeling of him stretching you even further than his fingers. he’s so thick. you feel so good wrapped around him. after giving you a few moments to adjust to his size levi pulls out before pushing back in, even further this time. you hum as the pain turns into pleasure. your hamstrings smack against his quads as levi sets a steady pace. he watches the ripples spread across your backside every time his hips make contact with yours. you can hear levi’s deep breaths from behind you. 

“for someone so small i didn’t expect you to be this big”, you let out an amused laugh. the backhanded compliment makes levi snap. he’s been somewhat forgiving with you, but not anymore. 

“god, you’re so fucking annoying”, he groans as he snaps his hips into yours. you mewl at the change in pace. levi presses a hand in the center of your back, keeping you from moving as he drills into you now. his breaths become labored as he pounds you. 

“such a smart ass. can never shut up, can you?”, he asks rhetorically. levi’s had enough of your attitude. he’s taking out every moment of anger he’s ever had with you right now. he wants your brain to melt. it’s the only way you’ll listen and obey him. he wants his name to be the only word you can think of.

levi can barely hear you crying out for him over his thoughts. “too much, -s too much”. you desperately try to get air in your lungs. your hands reach behind you to weakly push against his hips. he mercilessly holds your wrist behind your back in a tight grip. 

“you’re gonna take it”, he orders you. you whimper as you feel your orgasm approaching. you’re hoping this time he’ll let you experience it. you nod, agreeing with him for the first time. 

“so you can be obedient”, he laughs as he mocks you. “wouldn’t know since you’re always defying me”. if disagreeing with levi is what brought you here you’d definitely be doing it in the future. 

“got nothing to say now, huh?”. you couldn’t talk if you wanted to. the only sounds you could muster out were moans and whines and whimpers, which is exactly what levi wanted. he decides to have some fun, wanting to push you through your brain fog. 

“i’m talking to you” he says darkly, delivering a loud slap to your ass. you yelp in surprise and pleasure. your skin stings where his hand made a print. your body jerks under you, on the edge of a much needed release. his pace doesn’t falter as you clench around him.

“levi”, you whimper, your way of asking permission. he grants it to you and you cry out as he fucks you through your orgasm. it’s intense, making up for all of your failed ones. your vision goes black for a moment as you’re consumed by the feeling.

levi curses as his abs tighten up. he leans his weight on you, head against your shoulder as he  his hips snap into yours. his bangs stick to his forehead. he’s used up so much energy. you let him use you as you come down from your high. he whimpers as he pulls out of you at the last second, coming on your ass and thighs. you sigh in satisfaction. his heart pounds as he pants on top of you, completely spent. levi’s body weight grounds you, bringing you back from your euphoric state. 

eventually, levi stands up and tucks himself back into his pants. he pulls up the zipper and adjusts the straps of his uniform. his hands rake through his hair, making it fall how it normally does, although now he has some extra volume. unlike levi, you’re slow to get up. once you open your eyes he’s already making his way towards the door. 

“get dressed. we have work to do”, he says in his usual unamused tone before leaving you to deal with the mess.

----

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading!! everyone is welcome to leave feedback and requests in my inbox!! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[mikamakuna]

Mizu x afab reader

Summary: you work at a brothel and see a fine, young samurai.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fingering, nipple play, stripping, swearing, degrading, praise, strap-on,

Mizu uses him pronouns before you find out her gender

Written in second person

Not prof read

When the mysterious blue eye samurai entered your quiet village, the samurai became the talk of the town. Even though everyone knew about him no one had managed to get a glimpse of the legend. You didn’t care for the drama that the maikos told you. But your curiosity was killing you, making you spend sleepless nights thinking about getting lost in his ice blue eyes and longing for his embrace.

You had just finished up with a customer, leaving with your kimono hanging off your shoulder and you make up smudged. Standing in the entrance of the brothel was someone now, you hadn’t seen him are the village before. His voice was raspy with a cold tone, a scowl of his face… and piercing blue eyes. You quickly fixed you makeup and put on a beautiful silk kimono. You caught his eye while walking past. He would be yours.

Later that day you had to keep the samurai company.

“Sir, may I come in?” You asked hesitantly,

“I want to be alone.”

“I will be punished if you don’t let me in,” you said in a melancholy tone in an attempt to be let him.

He signed “Fine.”

You sit down next to him, his back turned away from you.

“May I ask your name?”

“What it matter to you?” He said in a harsh tone.

You bite your tongue to not insult your customer. When started to pour tea for him, he finally turned to face you.

“Your eyes are…” you said in amazement while offering him the tea.

“Whatever clever insult comes next is not as clever as you think” he said with a harsh and bitter tone.

“They’re beautiful… I’ve never seen any like your…” you spoke softly while reaching out to clasp his face

He grabs your hand, “just because you complement me, doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

“Of course.” You said as you bit your tongue.

“Mizu… my name is Mizu.”

You give him a smile. “Thank you Mizu. Call me whatever you want.” You cooed attempting to hold his hands but this time he lets you.

“Your hands are so cold…” you breathed softly while getting closer to him.

“I can help warm up.” You whispered into his ear while slowly taking if you clothes. Mizu couldn’t help but watch you undress. So slowly undid your Yukata but only letting him see your shoulders. You let down your hair. You got on your knees and bit you finger in an attempt to tease him. His pale skin became a light hue of red as his eyes looked you up a down.

“Show me your sword…” i said crawling on all fours towards him in like a cat hunting its prey.

“Mizu please.” You wined stoking his upper thighs

“You’re just like Tigen when we were children. A fucking brat.” Mizu said harshly.

“Pretty please Mizu. There’s no need to be in barest.” You pouted

“Relentless aren’t you.” He said rolling his eyes before pushing you to the floor and kissing your neck. You whimpered and squirted under him feeling his warmth breathe on your neck while his cold hands exploded you body. Your hands made their way to his thighs as he kissed you lower and lower down. You where now completely exposed and at his mercy.

“Name your desire…” He whispered breathlessly before kissing your inner thighs

“Wet already? From me calling you a brat. Of course a slut like you would love it.” He gently kissed your thighs before licking you slit. The sensation made you jolt. He began sucking on your sensitive clit before inserting two finger into your warmth. He had a rhythmic pass as he hit all the right spots causing you to clench around his things.

“You just love that don’t you. Don’t even think of cumming yet.”

His raspy voiced commands just made you even wetter and clench harder.

“You’re so needy.” He said pulling out his fingers.

“Why should naughty girls be rewarded?” He whispered inches away from your lips while flicking your nipples.

“I think they need to be punished.” He grinned before gently rubbing your clit.

“Didn’t you want to see my… sword?~” He stood up slowly before taking off her poncho, scarf and then he revealed his chest. You saw the scars and heal wounds all over him with his chest rapped up. You gently touched his scars before he began kissing you again. You touch this opportunity to takeoff his trousers…

The room feel silent. Mizu stopped kissing you.

“I-I’m not what you expected…” she sighed.

You passionately kissed her.

“You’re beautiful.” You stated before taking her hair down and kissing her forehead.

Mizu rested her head on your breast as she gently stroked your thighs before rubbing your clit. All you could do was hold onto her shoulders as your legs trembled.

“Mizu~” you whimpered. “I can’t take much more of this~!” You moaned as you clenched around nothing.

She softly smiled “I have something I’ve been wanting to test for a while and you might enjoy it~” she chuckled softly before standing up and going back to the pile of clothes. She pulled out a strap-on.

“On my!” You gasp looking at the size of it.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to” Mizu reassured you.

“I still want to try it” you said before pulling her back to the floor and lowering yourself onto the strap.

“You take me so well.” She chuckled before grabbing you hips and helping you lower and raise yourself. Her strap stretched your walls making you whine.

You started to pick up speed as she fondled your breasts and you played with your clit.

Suddenly, Mizu swiftly pushed you to the floor before shoving the strap back in you and pounding you like a piston. You grabbed onto her shoulders as she’s rubbing your aching clit.

“UHHhH~ mizu!” You moaned and whined, not caring if the whole village could hear.

She puts you in a mating press, reaching the deepest parts of your cunt.

You could feel your climax fast approaching, your cunt dripping.

Your felt a warmth wash over you as you finally finish. Mizu slowly pulling out of you.

She planted a kiss on your forehead before getting dressed and leaving.

Once you got back to the other workers they bombarded you will question about how good the samurai could use his sword and you just gave them a tired smile.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Chapter 27: Eyaytir (Second Chances - Hunter x reader)

Eyaytir. v. to flee, to escape.

Chapter Summary: You escape the mountain base, but you're still stuck hiding on-world.

Chapter Warnings: fear, anxiety, being chased/hunted, Crosshair being a snarky little shit, angst; if I missed anything please let me know!

Word Count: 3,313

< Previous chapter | Next chapter >

By the time you’ve limped Crosshair to the nearby lift, you’re sweating and your legs shake with the effort, muscles screaming in protest. As you round the corner, the troopers on guard all freeze for a moment, before snapping into action. Two blasters raise in your direction. 

Mustering as much anger as you can—of which you have plenty to draw on, the heated emotion always simmering just below the surface, you spit out, “What are you doing!? I was assured that I would have a stretcher for this clone when I arrived to retrieve him.” 

The two troopers glance at one another and, after a moment, lower their blasters. 

“Well?” you snarl, straining under Crosshair’s dead weight. 

Crosshair stirs at your voice. “Wha—” 

You shush him, silently praying that he remains quiet for another few moments as one of the troopers rushes off. The remaining trooper makes no move toward you to help support Crosshair, a fact for which you’re grateful. No karking Imperial will get their hands on him again so long as you can help it. 

The trooper reappears a minute later with a floating stretcher. You ease Crosshair down onto it, not bothering to snap the straps into place across his body. Fixing your cap, you straighten your shoulders and give a silent nod to the troopers. One of them presses the lift button; when the door opens, you push the repulsor-lift stretcher into the enclosed space.

Only when the doors whir shut do you let yourself breathe. 

Keying in level 50, the ground floor, you slump against the curved, cool durasteel wall as the lift effortlessly descends. A pounding headache has begun to take up root at the base of your skull, throbbing dully in time with your pulse. Thoughts whirl through your head. What did they do to Crosshair? When did he try to escape? How long has he been here? How long have the other clones been here? 

How the kark are you going to get out safely? 

You want to stay and help the other clones escape, you really do, but as the lift trundles downward, no ideas come to mind. The Marauder can’t possibly fit all of them—even the Redthorn would be hard pressed to squeeze the hundreds of clones that must be imprisoned here. You’d be committing these men to another firefight and probably even worse punishments when they are inevitably recaptured. A deep pain blooms in your chest as you accept that you can do nothing for them. Not right now. 

Crosshair croaks out your name. 

You flinch, jolting out of your emotions. Crosshair’s eyes crack open to peer blearily at you. Confusion and fear pinch his brow. With a tight smile, you reach tentatively to hold the back of your hand to his forehead. He recoils before taking a deep breath, then leans his head forward to touch your hand. Concern bolts through you. His skin is cold and clammy; you curse yourself for not bringing any medical supplies. 

“I’m getting you out,” you say. 

“You— You got my message.” 

“Sure did.” You retract your hand, idly wiping away the dewed sweat there. “The boys are gonna pick us up.” 

His eyes widen a bit at that, searching your face. You’re not sure for what, but as he slumps back against the stretcher, his expression relaxes a fraction. 

“I might need your help getting out,” you say. The digital panel above the doors steadily ticks down the numbers, counting the floors. “I stunned a woman on my way to you, so I’m expecting other resistance.” 

“Did you see a doctor?” Crosshair asks, voice still weak, but the note of dread rings clear.

“I don’t think so.” 

“Good.” The quaver in his voice gives you pause, but you’re only a few floors from the  bottom. You’ll have to get that story another time. 

“Listen.” You sigh, repositioning yourself at the foot of the stretcher. “I’m going to get us as far as I can. There’s a landing pad about a mile out from the base; there might still be a ship there, or we’ll hide out and wait to get picked up. And that’s best case scenario.” 

He cracks a faint, sarcastic smile. “It won’t be best case.”

“I know.” 

You straighten as the lift comes to a halt. When the doors glide open, you half expect a whole battalion of armored troopers waiting for you—but there are no guards. Rather, the entire hangar bustles with activity, Imperials scurrying every which way as they go about their tasks. Most of the figures here are clad in gray uniforms identical to the one you wear, but you do catch sight of a handful of groups of armored soldiers, white buckets gleaming. 

“Stormtroopers,” Crosshair breathes as you begin to push the stretcher. 

“What?” you murmur. You don’t dare move your mouth too much; your eyes stay fixated on the path in front of you. 

“The new soldiers,” he explains. “They’re Stormtroopers. Nat-born soldiers. Our replacements.” 

You know he means the clones’ replacements. A grim, chilly sensation settles in your bones. That could have been you behind that imposing, skeletal plastoid armor once upon a time. With a shudder, you shove that thought away. The massive blast doors to the hangar are still several hundred feet away. If they’re activated, you won’t have much time to react. 

To your bewilderment, you’re nearly halfway there before a voice calls out to you. “Hey, where are you taking that prisoner?” 

“Medical transfer,” you lie over your shoulder, not daring to stop or even look back. Picking up the pace, you lock eyes with Crosshair for a moment. Your breathing comes in shallower gasps. 

The person behind you scoffs and audibly hurries to catch up. 

“Her name is Emerie Karr,” Crosshair mutters. At your flash of confusion, he elaborates, “The woman you stunned. Had to be.” 

You nod in thanks. When your pursuer catches up, their legs working to keep pace, you stare straight ahead, eyes fixed on a point beyond the blast doors. The sunshine outside has begun to fade—you’ve spent most of the day here. Kriff, you don’t want to have to outrun the Empire in the dark. 

“Unless I am mistaken—” they pause, and in your periphery you catch them inspecting your badge where it bounces on your hip “—First Lieutenant, I am your superior, and you will look at me when speaking.” 

You glance briefly. Nondescript, wearing an officer’s uniform. Standard regulation blaster on their far hip. But you keep walking, again lengthening your stride. “Apologies, but I have emergency orders from Emerie Karr to transfer this clone immediately.” 

The officer stumbles at that. “I—”

You cut them off, three-fourths of the way to the blast doors and so close to freedom. “There’s a transport waiting at landing bay one-seven-six-five. Shall I comm Dr. Karr for you, sir?” 

“That won’t be necessary,” another voice, clipped, smooth, and cold, cuts in. 

Suppressing a shiver at the dead tone of voice, you risk a glance over your shoulder. Stalking in your direction, hands clasped behind his back and a calm look on his face, is an unfamiliar man with skeletal features and graying hair. His uniform identifies him as high-ranking—your eyes widen at the grand moff designation pinned to his chest. Snapping your head forward, you push harder against the stretcher. 

“Tarkin,” Crosshair mutters, eyes narrowed.

Fear jolts through you, slick and ferocious. You’d forgotten about him, his name uttered in a Coruscanti prison cell not that long ago; every nerve in your body screams at you for keeping your back turned to the enemy, but you can’t stop. Stopping means death.

Tarkin calls your name, your full name, and rattles off your chain code. Breath feeling frozen in your chest, you grit your teeth as you continue forward. Around you, Imps in uniforms and armor alike have stopped. Most stare. Some fidget with blasters. None of them get in Tarkin’s way. 

“Such a shame we must meet under these conditions,” Tarkin says. “I was most displeased to hear when you escaped Coruscant. I was quite hoping that this conversation would be a pleasant one. As it is, unless you halt right now, I will be forced to take drastic measures.” 

Locking eyes with Crosshair, you see the same terror and anger clashing in him that wars within you. He shakes his head imperceptibly. You set your jaw and break into a jog, shoulder muscles aching in protest. Ahead, the fading sunlight glimmers and warm, humid air kisses your skin, beckoning you forward. 

“A pity,” Tarkin says, in a tone that makes you certain he’s never felt less pity in his life. “Kill the clone. Capture the imposter.” 

Red lights flash as the klaxon blares. You stumble, flinching at the sudden piercing sound. Around you, the hangar comes alive with shouts of “stop them!” and “seal the blast doors!” Blaster fire, hot and intense, screeches in every direction. 

You bolt. 

A grinding of metal on metal screeches; your ears ring. The blast doors are closing, and they’re gaining speed. You’re only a few dozen feet away now. 

“Give me your blaster!” Crosshair snaps. He props himself up on one elbow, dodging a red blaster bolt that goes whizzing past both of you. 

Acting purely on instinct and reaction, you yank free your blaster from its concealment at your waistband and pass it to him. The stretcher begins to fishtail. Stabilizing it, you push your feet harder. The doors are closing fast, faster than you first anticipated. 

Crosshair takes aim over your shoulder. When you don’t hear any cries of pain, you know he either missed—unlikely—or he found his mark with deadly accuracy, just like he’d been engineered to do. 

He calls your name in warning, glancing back at the doors. 

The world seems to hold its breath, leaving only your own harsh panting to ring in your ears. You shove. The stretcher hurtles across the door’s tracks, spinning. You leap. 

Searing heat burrows into your shoulder. A moment later, the massive metal doors slam shut behind you with a resounding crash.

Smoke curls from the gray fabric of your disguise. Gritting your teeth, you attempt to take a step—but you’re held in place. Panic clawing at your heart, you tug. Your jacket is snagged between the doors. Reaching with your uninjured right arm, you use the hole burned through the jacket to tear it open. You slip out of the tattered garment, leaving you only in a similarly-singed black undershirt. 

Against your sweaty, heated skin, the humid air nearly feels like a balm. But you can’t take a moment to catch your breath. Instead, you catch up to the stretcher as it drifts down to a slower glide. You grab the edges with your good hand and yank it to a halt. You cradle your left arm close to your body; that blaster shot struck a nerve, and you can only feel electricity tingling through the limb. You force yourself to think past the numbness. 

Crosshair groans, clutching his head in one hand, the other still gripped around your blaster. 

“Can you walk?” you grit out. 

“Give me a minute.” 

Overhead, familiar, deadly screams of TIE fighters roar. “We may not have that.” 

“Where are we going?” he asks as you resume pushing the stretcher. 

“Landing pad,” you say. You jerk your chin in the direction you think is correct, but suddenly you can’t recall which way you need to go. Brain refusing to cooperate, you recall in pristine detail what the area looked like, but not where it is in relation to your position. Besides, it’s nearly sunset; the shadows stretch in voidlike, gaping maws. Nothing looks familiar. “Kriff. We’ll just have to hide in the jungle.” 

Crosshair shoots you a burning, skeptical look. Then his eyes focus on your shoulder. “Dank ferrik. You got shot.” 

“S’not the first time,” you snark. “I’ll be fine. C’mon. You’re gonna have to walk from here, Cross.” 

You pull the stretcher to a halt. Behind you the blast doors begin the slow grind to open once more. 

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps. But he sits up fully, swings his legs over the edge, and stands on unsteady feet. 

Choosing to ignore his statement, you scan behind you to gauge you close the hunting parties are. Satisfied that none seem to be heading directly for you, you kick the stretcher as hard as you can to one side, then grab Crosshair’s bony wrist and pull him in the opposite direction. You forge a blind path into the darkening jungle. 

“What’s wrong with the landing pad?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” you reply, face burning despite the dimming light. “I just...lost it.” 

You can practically hear his smirk. “Impressive.” 

“Stow it,” you snap. “If I’m lost, then it means I have nowhere they can check to find us. They’ll have to exhaust every option.” 

Completely ignoring you, Crosshair tugs his wrist free.

“Can I at least have my blaster back?” you ask, not caring that you sound whiny. 

“I’m the better shot,” he says. 

With a scoff, you roll your eyes. He’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. You reach in front of you with both hands to make sure you’re not walking into anything sturdier than a few bushes. 

After a few long moments of crashing through the underbrush, Crosshair huffs a quiet laugh. Anger flares in your veins. 

“What’s so funny?” you snap. 

“You’re good at it,” Crosshair says, voice low. 

“What?” 

“Lying,” he says. You can’t see his face, but a smirk coats his words. 

“I’m not lying to you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you say. “The others worry you might have been setting another trap, so you’re lucky I even convinced them to come.” 

“And what made you so certain I didn’t set that trap back there?” 

You dig your heels in and halt so suddenly that Crosshair nearly runs into you. Fixing him with a flat stare, you scoff. In the dark, you can only see the faintest outline of him against the even deeper shadows of the trees around you. Very little starlight pierces the heavy canopy. He remains silent as he returns your deadpan gaze. 

You finally shrug, sighing. “Because you didn’t tell the Empire that the squad survived Kamino, did you?” 

He’s quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, so softly you almost miss it: “No.” 

“That’s how I know.” 

He doesn’t have anything to say to that. 

You’re uncertain how much time has passed since you escaped the mountain base. You’ve spent the entire time trying to confuse the tracks you know you’re leaving. As your vision adjusts to the nighttime darkness, you’re able to make out more and more shapes ahead of you, most of them large trees. Sometimes you backtrack, quite literally walking over your own tracks; sometimes you climb one of the larger, sturdier trees and descend its neighbor. Anything to throw off Imperial trackers.

You even have the good fortune to come across a stream. Crosshair suggests walking in the water for a while, a trick Hunter taught him once, to mask your scent for any pursuing massiffs or bloodhounds. 

And now, finally back on solid ground, your boots and pants soaked through, you come to a small hollow. Gnats buzz in the air, and nearby, a cricket sings its plaintive tune. Crosshair grumbles as he ducks past you into the rotted tree trunk, but even in the low light, you spot the sheen of sweat that coats his forehead. He needs the rest, and so do you. The numbness in your left arm has faded into a constant burning static, no matter how you hold the limb. 

Crosshair leans his head back against the dry, dead wood and closes his eyes. Satisfied that he’s at least pretending to rest, you crouch in the hollow’s opening and fish through your pockets for your comlink. 

Pressing the button, you draw a shaky breath. “Havoc-home, this is Havoc-6 with Havoc-7 in tow. Location unknown. Requesting retrieval.” 

“Oh, thank the Maker,” comes Hunter’s voice immediately, pinched and low with tension. “We can’t move in just yet. Too many birds in the air. Anything we need to know?” 

“Tarkin’s here,” you grumble. 

“Sithspit.” In the background, Wrecker growls something unintelligible. Hunter sighs, then says, “Copy. Keep this line open. Keep moving.” 

“Copy.” You can’t help the smile that has crept onto your face at hearing Hunter’s voice. You’ve been gone less than half a day, if that. Despite the brief confrontation with Tarkin, your luck with this mission has been beyond anything you could have hoped for. 

It makes you worry. 

But you don’t have the energy to worry about what-ifs. Leaving the comlink frequency open as requested, you peer at Crosshair. You’re unsurprised to find him already looking at you. Through a gap in the canopy, faint starlight glows, illuminating the twin sparks that are his eyes. The thin contours of his face stretch as he raises one eyebrow at you. 

“What?” you say. 

“Nothing,” he says, incredibly unconvincingly. “Never heard him sound like that before.” 

“He’s happy you’re safe,” you say. You know Hunter is; they all are. But you also know it’s only a partial truth. Hunter is happy you are safe. 

Crosshair cocks his head, like he’s following the same line of thinking, and then shakes his head twice. “I suspected a lot had changed since I...left.” You sense that he’s choosing his words carefully. “Omega, for one. But you. A nat-born.” 

You can’t read his tone. Frowning, you offer a half shrug. “That’s me.” 

He snorts and pushes himself to his feet. “We should get moving again.” 

Nodding, you fall in beside him. As the darkness deepens once again, you risk a glance backward. The mountain leers above you still, tall and illuminated from within. If you never have to visit another mountain in your life, it’ll be too soon. 

After a while more, the comlink clicks once. Tech’s voice comes through. “Havoc-2 to Havoc-6, we are unable to find an opening. We will try again tomorrow night, when the search has died down.” 

You and Crosshair both freeze, eyes locking. With numb fingers and numb lips, you raise the comlink to speak. “Copy, Havoc-2. Stay safe up there.”

“You both stay safe, too,” Hunter says, voice crackling with static. Interference. “We’ll see you soon. Comms still on.” 

The line goes silent. Around you, the jungle’s inhabitants continue their nightly routines, bugs trilling, owls hunting on whisper-silent wings, mammals nesting down for the night. But the space between you and Crosshair is tense, ready to shatter. 

“We can’t stop moving,” Crosshair says, voice low, like he expects Imperials to be close by. And perhaps they are. “Need to keep going.” 

Shaking your head, you give him a hard look. “We both need to rest.” 

“I’m fine,” he snaps. “I’ve slept enough. All those sedatives.” 

Your heart twinges, but you persist. “Sedation and rest are two different things.” 

“Whatever.” He turns on his heel and trudges into the darkness, the brush swallowing him whole. 

“Crosshair!” you hiss, hurrying to catch up. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Reeling from the emotional whiplash, you glare at the back of his head, trying to burn a hole through his stubborn skull. He quite literally called for help, and now he’s surly about being helped? 

But you know better than to press him right now, recognizing the cagey way that his shoulders are drawn up, the way his grip on the blaster has not once relaxed. He’s scared. 

“Hey,” you call softly. 

He grunts in acknowledgement. 

“We’re gonna make it off-world, you know that, right?” 

“Yeah,” he says, but his voice is hollow. 

You sigh. This is going to be a very long cycle. 

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[fan-stuff-and-things]

New Cub Introduction Aftermath

"It's fine." Raptor squawked. Bzzzzt! "He's been quite chatty with the new cub here." Said Margaret. Their Raptor had never been the best behaved, but Blue's arrival had really set the creature off. "Do we still have the bit from his early days?" Asked her beloved Hale. "Oh yes, it's around here somewhere." "Please d-" Zzzzzzt! The collar just wasn't enough these days. They hadn't had to correct him like this, in… how long had it been? "Open up." He resisted, turning his head. They grabbed, holding his nose closed until he gasped for air. The bit wasn't cold. Punishment wasn't its purpose. It was for correction. His tongue was pressed flat to the bottom of his mouth and pinned like an unruly strand of hair in a clip. He jerked and whimpered, snapping his jaws shut. It was already seated. Their bird had been quieted for the time being. Didn't want the fuzzbucket to get any ideas. He'd been such a good boy so far. She looked over. Speech or no, that looked like it was going to be changing today. Two of the vet's assistants accompanied her to prepare Blue to be seen. "No need to cry sweetie. They're not going to hurt you. Look," she gestured to Raptor, "he's not being hurt. He just needed to quiet down." The vet had lay him on his stomach to inspect the wings. A few assistants kept them nice and still so he didn't flap and hurt anyone in his panic. A patch of feathers had been torn out. They had to make sure nothing else was damaged beneath. Blue had pressed himself flat into a corner and shook at the approaching assistants. She approached first, kneeling down and bringing his head into her lap. Gentle petting soothed the savage nine times out of ten. Generally that was because Blue wasn't truly savage. He was just a shy kitty. In this case though? "Could one of to grab the hood from over- yes, that. Thank you." She repositioned herself for a better grip, "I'm sorry you're so scared. Don't worry. It's going to be aaall better soon." Mutants were by and large a visual and auditory species with tactile tendencies. Cutting off their sight was a great way to reduce stimulus. In Blue's case, the hood would keep him from watching the assistants or vet work. He whimpered when they put it on. He hadn't truly stopped begging since the vet got there. It was appropriate begging though. He only needed soothing, not correction. She ran her nails through his jaw fur while they worked. He liked face scratches. "Mmmph!" Greta didn't turn to look. She knew just by the sound that they'd needed at least two extra people to keep the wing where it was. "Seems like that hurt. Nothing feels broken, so it's probably a bruise." Raptor had generally lighter bones, but he was built like a swan. Some of them were bigger and nastier to use as clubs. Blue had been struck by one of those, so he'd been in contact with the area. Raptor got him good. She focused on the animal in her lap. Hale had Raptor, it was her job to keep Blue as calm as possible. She held his head, the assistants at his legs while the vet undid the top straps of the straitjacket. They'd train him out of needing it for future visits. For now, it was an incredibly useful restraint. "I don't feel any damage to the back of the neck. Can you help me flip him over?" He'd stiffened at the vet's gloved touch and had started writhing at the sound of his voice. Greta's grip tightened and she nodded. No sooner had they struggled to flip the upset animal did the vet hiss in a breath. "That's definitely broken." A giant bruise had bloomed across Blue's collar and into his sternum. It was visible even beneath the fur, a rich dark purple against fine blue. He chittered with fear. She massaged her fingers through his mane, "It's not your fault baby. We'll get you fixed up right quick."

"Right. Jose, you get the stretcher. We've got a new patient." He shrieked and buried his head in her shoulder when the needle of painkillers entered his arm. She couldn't do a thing but comfort him. They also got the microchip out of the way while the stretcher was in transit. Blue's breath hitched horribly at it. She gently stroked him down the back, carefully not contemplating the kind of awful people who would do medical testing on such a gentle animal. "It's okay sweetie. This nice vet is going to help you. I'm right here."

Masterpost

[flying-jukebox-01]

Bob Dylan - Desolation Row👍🎶

They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the other is in his pants And the riot squad they're restless, they need somewhere to go As Lady and I look out tonight, from Desolation Row

Cinderella, she seems so easy, "It takes one to know one, " she smiles And puts her hands in her back pockets Bette Davis style And in comes Romeo, he's moaning. "You Belong to Me I Believe" And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend, you'd better leave" And the only sound that's left after the ambulances go Is Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row

Now the moon is almost hidden, the stars are beginning to hide The fortune telling lady has even taken all her things inside All except for Cain and Abel and the hunchback of Notre Dame

Everybody is making love or else expecting rain And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing, he's getting ready for the show He's going to the carnival tonight on Desolation Row

Ophelia, she's 'neath the window for her I feel so afraid On her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid To her, death is quite romantic she wears an iron vest Her profession's her religion, her sin is her lifelessness And though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow She spends her time peeking into Desolation Row

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood with his memories in a trunk Passed this way an hour ago with his friend, a jealous monk Now he looked so immaculately frightful as he bummed a cigarette And he when off sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabet You would not think to look at him, but he was famous long ago For playing the electric violin on Desolation Row

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world inside of a leather cup But all his sexless patients, they're trying to blow it up Now his nurse, some local loser, she's in charge of the cyanide hole And she also keeps the cards that read, "Have Mercy on His Soul" They all play on the penny whistles, you can hear them blow If you lean your head out far enough from Desolation Row

Across the street they've nailed the curtains, they're getting ready for the feast The Phantom of the Opera in a perfect image of a priest They are spoon feeding Casanova to get him to feel more assured Then they'll kill him with self-confidence after poisoning him with words And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls, "Get outta here if you don't know" Casanova is just being punished for going to Desolation Row"

At midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew Come out and round up everyone that knows more than they do Then they bring them to the factory where the heart-attack machine Is strapped across their shoulders and then the kerosene Is brought down from the castles by insurance men who go Check to see that nobody is escaping to Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero's Neptune, the Titanic sails at dawn Everybody's shouting, "Which side are you on?!" And Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting in the captain's tower While calypso singers laugh at them and fishermen hold flowers Between the windows of the sea where lovely mermaids flow And nobody has to think too much about Desolation Row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday, about the time the doorknob broke When you asked me how I was doing, was that some kind of joke All these people that you mention, yes, I know them, they're quite lame I had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name Right now, I can't read too good, don't send me no more letters, no Not unless you mail them from Desolation Row

[liviavanrouge]

The Difference

"Vanrouge Family"

Livia: HAHAHAHA!

Golden: SHADOW YOU IDIOT

Shadow: *Yelps as Golden snagged him back by his shirt collar*

Lilia: *Cackles in amusement, watching his chaotic kids*

Maria: *Grabs Shadows arms, trying to save him from their elder brothers wrath* GOLDEN! LET SHADOW GO!

Silver: Oh boy..

Golden: HE NEEDS TO LEARN THE CONSEQUENCES OF HIS ACTIONS! RELEASE HIM

Kuro: Mommy! They're fighting again!

Elikai: FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!!!!!

Barin: *Looking nervous* This is gonna get out of hand...

Shadow: I'M SORRY OKAY, NO MORE DUMPING WATER!

Lavender: This is crazy...seriously

Golden: UH-UH, YOU NEED TO BE PUNISHED!

Lilia: Give him three weeks worth of chores!

Thea: LILIA! Don't encourage this!

Golden: That's a good idea

Shadow: Oh no...

"THE Vanrouge Family"

Livia: *Smiles, walking into the ballroom party, her and her family wearing fancy outfits, guests staring at them in amazement*

Golden: *Stares forward stoically, fixing his sleeve cuffs, his sword strapped to his side* Quite the event being held

Thea: *Smiles, a serene look on her face* You kids be careful

Guest A: Look at the Vanrouge's!

Guest C: They look astounding!

Guest B: The sons especially, they look like official knights!

Guest C: The daughters look like princesses from another kingdom!!

Guest B: Lilia and Thea look the best out of them all, they're matching colors and designs

Guest A: Look at young Livia, the designer went all out on her dress!!!!

Kuro: Yo Dad, can I go join the guys by the refreshments?

Lilia: Be careful

Kuro: *Walks off, grinning*

Elikai and Barin: *Smiles, chatting with one another, girls their age staring at them flustered*

Silver: Mother, Father..me, Golden and Shadow are going to find Sebek

Thea: Be careful babies

Golden: Always, Mother...

Maria: Can I go find Mister Mayhem?

Lavender: Oh, me too!

Thea: Be back before the speech!

Lilia: Don't ask him too many questions kiddos

Lavender: Okay!

Livia: *Smiles, holding a glass of water, a few eyes on her taking in the design of her dress*

???: Livia, may we dance?

Livia: *Stares up at Seon, her eyes widening* O-Of course...

Seon: *Smiles, feeling the gaze of Livia's brothers practically burn holes into his back and skull* Thank you

Lilia: *Stares Seon down frowning*

Thea: *Giggles in amusement, feeling a wave of protectiveness come from her husband*

[redroom-rainbowguts]

Broken

Word Count: 681

Tw: drugging

"Actions speak louder than words."

Roy squirmed against the leather holding him against the bed.

"So how about this? Until you're able to 'tell' me you'll never pull this bs again, you won't be allowed to speak at all. Does that seem fair?"

"N-No!" Roy's eyes stayed on the IV, partially because he was too scared to meet Grey's gaze, but mostly due to the mystery substance being added, turning the clear liquid a cloudy white. His stomach sank.

"I-I'm s-s-sorr-!"

"What did I just say?" Grey snapped. He'd never been this cold before. There had always been a layer of despair underneath his punishments, no matter how harsh, but now? It felt like an entirely different person. If this was still an expression of love, it was deathly cold. Tears bubbled down Roy's cheeks. He shook his head.

"Look at me." Grey grabbed his chin, forcing his gaze up. "Just because the world was cruel to you, that doesn't give you the right to hurt others." He let out a slow, shaky breath. "Especially the one person who wants to see you safe and happy."

Roy opened his mouth to speak- rather, he tried. His jaw was locked in place. He paled.

"I told you." Grey tapped the IV drip. "You'll have to find some other way to fix your mistake. You have a few hours in the bed, that should give you plenty of time to figure it out while I go talk to the police. Sound good?"

Roy shrank further into himself, forcing a stiff nod. Grey smiled, but his face still lacked the passion Roy had developed a bittersweet attachment to over the last several months. Grey left him alone, punctuating his exit with the flick of the light switch. Darkness. Again. The prospect of Grey coming back was terrifying. After all, if he couldn't make it up to him.... Roy was no stranger to just how intense Grey's reprimands could be, and today proved they'd only grazed the tip of the iceberg. But even worse was the nagging fear that Grey *wouldn't* come back. His mistake had somehow destroyed the terrifyingly unconditional love Grey had shown him. Alone, voiceless, strapped down, Roy would die if he never came back. He had no life without him. There would never again be freedom without Grey.

That last thought bounced around his head, echoing louder and louder. Like it or not, he *needed* Grey. Desperately. His heart picked up speed. What if Grey was arrested? Would anyone care enough to look for the victim? The police had no problem returning Roy to a family who wanted nothing more than to see him destroyed, why should now be any different? Grey was the only one who ever really cared. And he'd tried to run. Fuck.

The darkness of the basement danced with that of sleep until finally the light flicked back on. Roy would have run to Grey's arms had his own limbs been free.

"Excited to see me?" Grey's voice, though wary, no longer carried the same strain as before. Roy nodded. Fresh tears stained his cheeks as he nuzzled into Grey's chest. Grey in turn pressed his lips to his forehead. He wiped Roy's hair from his face.

"That's all I needed to see, dearest." Grey smiled. His real smile. It had barely been a day, but God how Roy had missed it. Grey tenderly removed the needle from his arm. "The effects should wear off in a couple days, but until then I'm afraid you'll still be unable to talk. Roy didn't care. He was safe. He was loved. With Grey, he was free.

[what-if-i-just-did]

Guilt & Revenge: Wound Cleaning

Whumptober, Day 16: Wound Cleaning

Guilt & Revenge Masterlist

Writing from this POV was intriguingly difficult for me. I also kept forgetting to deadname Amber which is just plain inconvenient. I'm posting on mobile rn so I might edit tomorrow to fix the formatting or something. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy, and lmk to be added to the taglist.

TWs: catholic whumper POV, religious whump, long term captivity, victim blaming, torture (cut by knife, nongraphic), unprofessional first aid, being strapped down, threats, (intimate-ish whumper? Kind whumper? Is that a thing?) and mentions of blood, praying, taser, and Hell

Mercedes looked at Dom, staring hatefully at her from the corner of his bed where he’d curled up. She’d come in with a plan but.. he probably needed medical attention. Well no shit, but maybe she could… Maybe.

“I am going to take that table into your cell, strap you to it, and use a knife to cut your upper back.”, she said. Well that seemed to get his attention. It was probably the first time any one of them had been so upfront with him. “If you lie still, don’t talk, and don’t fight back, I’ll clean the cuts after I’m done. With medical alcohol. If you struggle or try to fight or cuss me out or anything like that, I’ll taser you when I’m done and leave you strapped to the table. Do you understand me?”

She could see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, nodding. Mercedes was slightly surprised, but not shocked. He was bound to eventually start being more complacent.

Mercedes did exactly what she’d said she would, and she could see the apprehension in Dom’s eyes, the disbelief at his own actions when he reluctantly obeyed her directions to lie on the table, to hold his head or limbs this or that way so she could properly tie him down.

She could hear the grunts as he ground his teeth, probably trying to keep from using some sinful word or another. She rubbed circles into his shoulder with her left thumb as she cut up his back. He was taking his punishment much better than any other she’d seen or given him. She’d have to remember that.

Dom was getting what he deserved. He was just one of many sinners, but Mercedes was proud that she got to assist in his justice. He would suffer for his deeds in Hell, but this way he would do penance earlier. And it was clearly God’s intention. Sending her Eileen, Paul and Hugo was the clearest sign she’d ever been given, and she was so grateful.

When she was done, she concluded that Dom had followed the guidelines she’d set, and she went to get him his reward. A moment later, she was back with medical alcohol and some toilet paper. Dom froze when she walked back in. After a second, she realized he’d probably thought she was leaving. Dismissing the thought, she opened the cap of the medical alcohol.

Mercedes held the folded toilet paper over the mouth of the medical alcohol bottle, quickly turning it upside down and right again. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. Somehow, it felt like it should be more of a solemn moment. Wordless. Like praying.

Carefully sitting next to Dom’s hips on the cheap table, she started cleaning the wounds she’d just made. A bit of a feeling overcame her, and she was about to silently pray when she realized the toilet paper was doing a terrible job of disinfecting the wounds.

It was coming apart in between the blood and the medical alcohol, leaving behind little pieces which was definitely the opposite of productive for what she was trying to do. Of course. Sighing, she got up, looking for something else to use.

She came back with a kitchen towel, and firstly wiped up the mess of blood and sweat that was Dom’s upper back. Methodically, she wetted a clean corner with the medical alcohol.

As she cleaned, Mercedes silently prayed for Dom. That his suffering would one day be enough to cleanse him, that he would be forgiven. She heard his sharp inhale when she brought the cloth down on the wounds, and she could imagine it stung. She took no joy in it, no satisfaction of a punishment doled out well. She just did her job and did it well.

Pondering, she wondered if there was a way she could use Dom or her feelings about their situation for a song without being too incriminating.

When she’d finished, she undid the straps keeping Dom on the table, and slightly helped him get off, so she could take the table back out of the cell. She tidied up the straps, and locked the cell back after her. With a lingering glance at Dom, she walked out of the room and up the narrow boat stairs. It was sunny out, and there were chairs on the deck.

…It’s not like she had anywhere to be any time soon. Oh, why not? She deserved a reward too. Sitting on the deck in the sun, it felt peaceful. Humming made-up melodies, she tried out words and phrases for a new song, completely unbothered by the actual person crawling to his bed in his cell just below her feet, growing anxious over the lack of hearing her leave.

She had other things on her mind, and, after all… he deserved it.

[mayhem24-7forever]

Please, Please Me (Kinktober 2022)

Lovely gif courtesy of the lovely @a-reader-and-a-writer​

Kinktober Prompts (from this list): Pegging - Hair Pulling - Tit Fucking

Character: Robert “Bob” Floyd (Top Gun: Maverick)

Author’s Note: I know what you’re thinking​: “Jo, it’s November now and you’ve only posted day one and two of kinktober”... I know... and I’m sorry. I will get them all done just out of order and it may take until next october but I swear I’m working on them!!

This is super inspired by this piece of art made by @nen-si​ so please go show them some love for their amazing art!!! They’re incredibly talented!

Warnings: femdom, teasing, punishment, rope bondage/shibari, ballgag, female masturbation, vibrator, hair pulling, spitting in mouth, a few spanks, blindfolds, handjob, strap-on, pegging

If she had known that talking to the shy brunette man in aviator glasses at the bar all those months ago would lead to where she was now, she would have gone over to talk to him even sooner. It was his gorgeous eyes that got her, reeling her in from across the room as she fell deep into their sea of blue, drowning with no ladder in sight. And one night at their shared apartment, it was the tears gathering in the corners of those same damn eyes that made her fingers itch to reach out and touch him… Or at least blindfold him.

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd sat in a plush armchair across from hers, bound and gagged in only his white underwear as he stared at her with those glossy big blue eyes, silently pleading with her to touch him as his wire-framed glasses slipped down his nose. And she almost gave in before she caught hold of herself. After all, this was supposed to be a punishment and she couldn’t give in before he learned his lesson just because he flashed those pleading puppy dog eyes at her. Leaning forwards, she pushed his glasses back up the brim of his nose, careful to touch only the glasses and not him, before leaning back in her seat.

“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to blindfold you, baby…” she warned, her eyebrow arching sternly to fix him in his spot, although it wasn’t like he could go anywhere anyway. “But that would ruin your punishment and I can’t have that.”

Bob had been a bad boy and had been teasing his girlfriend all day while they were enjoying a beach day with the dagger squad. They were both switches but it seemed Bob had been feeling particularly bratty and unfortunately (or very fortunately) for him, his girlfriend was in a dominant mood. Of course, she had warned him that he was playing a dangerous game but Bob had continued his on despite it. The first time she warned him was while he was applying her sunscreen, his hands wandering under her swimsuit to lightly squeeze her ass.

“Robby, I don’t think you need to put sunscreen on the parts under the swimsuit.” she had chided him.

“Sun protection is very important baby.” he said with a shrug that would have been innocent if not for the mischievous glint in his beautiful blue eyes. “Don’t want to get burned so it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Robby! Someone could see!” she squealed quietly as his hands moved to cup her breasts under the swimsuit, looking around to find that luckily the rest of the dagger squad was so preoccupied with setting up their towels and umbrellas and applying their own sunscreen to have noticed what Bob was doing.

“See what?” he asked with faux innocence, giving her breasts one last squeeze before removing his hands from her body completely to put more sunscreen on his hands.

“Behave yourself, Robby.” she warned and he put his hands up in mock surrender, backing away with a pleased smirk on his face.

The second time she warned him was when she discovered that he had stolen her panties from her bag while she was trying to change out of her swimsuit in the bathroom of the Hard Deck. She called him inside from where he was waiting for her in the hallway and pushed him against the wall, glaring at him when she noticed the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Something wrong sweetheart?” he asked.

“Robby, where is my underwear?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Did you forget to pack them?” he replied with faux innocence.

“Robert Floyd, give me my underwear back.” she demanded, trying desperately to remain mad at him despite how cute he was. “I’m not going to walk around the bar without anything under my sundress. Hand them over.”

“Oh, these?” he asked, pulling them out of his pocket and dangling them just out of her reach with cheeky smile. “Are you talking about these pretty little panties that I found just sitting there next to my clothes in the beach bag? I didn’t realize you needed those.” He lowered them enough for her to snatch them out of his hand.

“You need to behave yourself, Robby.” she cautioned as she put them on. “You’re playing a dangerous game right now.” Bob just nodded and smiled before heading out of the bathroom to order her a drink from the bar.

His third and final warning came when he leaned over and whispered something to her as they watched the others play pool later on that evening. Standing next to him and nursing her drink while they watched Hangman bend over to take a shot, she felt his hot breath on the side of her face, his lips just barely ghosting her ear.

“I’d love to bend you over the table like that, see if you could still make a shot with your warm cunt wrapped around my cock.” he said lowly and she froze, cheeks burning at the image of it in her head.

She turned her head to look up at him, motioning with her finger for him to lean down so she could whisper in his ear, surprising him when she lightly but firmly grabbed his groin through his shorts.

“I told you to behave, Robby.” she hissed and he grunted when she applied just the lightest pressure on his crotch. “We’re going home now, say goodbye to everyone.”

“Yes, Miss.” he groaned before she released him and he did as he was ordered so they could head home for his punishment.

For his bad behavior, he had to sit, bound in intricate patterns of shibari rope with a ball gag secured between his lips, and watch as his girlfriend pleasured herself with her vibrator in front of him. Unable to move, unable to speak, he had to simply endure the straining of his hard cock against the white cotton of his briefs, silky black rope framing his bulge that longed to be buried deep inside the wet cunt before him. The black ropes crisscrossed his chest and bound his arms together behind him, leaving an intricate and beautiful pattern atop the slightly muscular but soft planes of his abs.

His girlfriend sat in another plush armchair across from him, legs spread wide as her heels rested against the backrest on either side of his head. She was wearing his favorite set of lingerie, an extra twist to his punishment, as she teased her pussy with her favorite vibrator through the lacy fabric. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, letting out a half-sigh half-moan at the stimulation. Bob shifted in his bonds, attempting to provide any sort of friction to relieve his painfully hard cock, whining his desperation through the ball gag. When he let out a particularly pitiful whimper, she lifted her head and opened her eyes to fix him in his spot with one glare, a pleased smirk on her lips.

“Look at my poor Robby baby, all tied up with nowhere to go, unable to touch me, unable to even touch yourself.” she taunted with a fake pout, staring deep into his pleading eyes. “You can only watch as I get to play with my pussy and have all the fun without you… isn’t that right baby?”

Bob nodded vigorously, watching eagerly as his girlfriend moved the vibrator around her clit through the fabric. He wished she had taken them off so he could look at her pretty pink pussy but he knew that she hadn’t specifically to further his punishment.

“Fuck…” she moaned, throwing her head back and Bob could tell she was getting close, her body language that he knew so well screaming its approach to the edge.

As she hit the edge and came with a cry, her body jerking involuntarily as she was caught in the waves of ecstasy. Bob knew that she liked to have skin to skin contact when she came, it was why she didn’t masturbate a lot, at least not without him there even to just hold her hand. With his hands tied behind his back, he did the only thing he could and leaned to the side, resting his cheek on her calf. He hoped that his tender little motion of support was intimate enough to ground her and show his devotion, like a silent way of saying ‘I’ve got you, baby. You can let go, I’m right here’.

Coming down from her high, chest heaving, she set down the vibrator and moved her legs to put her heels back on the ground. She leaned forwards to fix his askew glasses and put her hand on his cheek, thumb stroking his skin as a silent thank you. He keened into her touch.

“Such a good boy, helping me cum without being asked.” she cooed, releasing his cheek and bringing bot of her hands to his thighs. “Do you think you’ve had enough punishment?”

He nodded and she hummed in acknowledgement, her teasing fingers trailing up his body slowly and Bob’s body couldn’t decide if it wanted to lean into her touch or squirm away. Her hands reached his neck and she kept one on his shoulder as the other moved to place a finger under his chin to make him look up at her.

“I miss that pretty little voice of yours.” she said as she laid a soft and almost chaste kiss on the ballgag, her hands going to the back of his head to unbuckle it.

“Please, Miss!” he tried but his mouth was dry like it always was after he’d been gagged.

“Aww, is your mouth dry, baby?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss.” he replied hoarsely.

“Open.” she commanded and after he obeyed, she grabbed his chin to keep it open as she spit into his mouth. “Swallow.”

Bob swallowed her spit  and opened his mouth for her to check that he had. She hummed in approval and reached over to the coffee table where she grabbed a bottle of water. Carefully she helped him drink until he had had his fill.

“Thank you, Miss.” he said as she put the bottle aside, his voice sounding much more normal.

“Well Robby, do you think that you’ve been punished enough?” she asked and he nodded.

“Yes, I do Miss.” he struggled to speak as her hands continued to roam his body. “I’m- I’m very sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” she asked, amused.

“Yes, yes… I’m so, so sorry. I won’t tease you ever again.” Bob promised. “Please Miss, I learned my lesson. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Anything?” she asked, eyebrow piqued in curiosity.

“Yes, anything! Please, please, please…” he babbled and she cut him off with a shush.

“Hush now, baby. Let me think… I mean, anything?” she asked with a smirk.

“Yes, Miss! Anything you want!” he assured her with wide, pleading eyes.

“There’s just so many options…” she trailed off, thinking for a moment before her eyes lit up with an idea and she moved to straddle him, purposefully pressing her body weight onto his groin. Her fingers trailed over his chest, lightly tugging on the ropes and snapping them to make him grunt. “What if I wanted to sit here and make you cum in your cute little tighty-whities just from rubbing against me? Would you do that for me?”

“Yes, Miss!” Bob replied, grinding his clothed cock against her.

“What if…” she began, trailing off as she wound her arms around his neck and snaked her fingers into his hair before grabbing a handful and pulling him closer to her. “I wanted to ride your cock and tug on this pretty brown hair of yours over and over and over until I cum?” She tugged on his hair on each word for effect, a noise somewhere between a moan and a groan escaping from his mouth. “Would you let me do that to you?”

“Yes, Miss!” he answered, bucking his hips upwards.

“Hmmm…” she said, giving his hair one last pull before releasing it and getting up off of him completely. He whined pitifully at the loss of her body against his as she stood between his legs, his whine turning into a gasp as she reached out to gently but firmly grab his cock through his underwear. She squeezed lightly for emphasis on some of her words as she continued. “But what if I wanted strap a toy to your cock and make you come again and again until you have nothing to give anymore?”

“I’d- I- I’d do it- oh… for- for you, Miss!” Bob replied, struggling to speak as she continued to palm his cock with a wicked smile on her face.

“What if…” she mused, releasing his cock before stepping back and pointing to the floor between them. “Well, what if I told you to get on your knees and eat me out until you're covered head to toe in my cum?”

“I’d do it, Miss!” he answered as he obediently slid off the chair and fell to his knees before her. Eye level with her panties, he looked up at her with sincere devotion in his eyes as she ran her hand through his hair in comforting strokes.

“Hmmm, tempting!” she said, sitting back down in her chair and motioning for him to approach before grabbing him by the ropes on his chest to pull him over her knee. “What if I wanted to put you over my knee?” she asked, pulling aside the fabric of his underwear and rubbing teasing circles onto his bare ass cheeks with an open palm before giving him a hard slap that sucked the air from his lungs. “What if I wanted to spank you until this pretty little ass is as red as a cherry?” she continued and he opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by another hard slap on the other cheek. “What about that, huh?”

“Yes!” he wheezed out through pants and deep breaths.

She slapped his ass again. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Miss!” he exclaimed, catching his breath.

“Good boy.” she cooed, smoothing the white fabric of his underwear back over his pink-tinged ass cheeks and helped him up to his feet, standing to join him. “I guess you really will do anything for me, huh?”

“Anything, Miss!” he confirmed, furiously nodding and she smiled before pulling him into a long and passionate kiss.

“Then I want you to go to the bed room and sit down on the edge of the bed and wait for me quietly.” she instructed after pulling back from the steamy kiss, stroking his cheek gently as he leaned into her touch.

Bob did as he was asked, watching in eager anticipation as she went over to the “toy” drawer. When she turned around and he saw the silk blindfold in her hands, he sucked in a surprised but pleased breath, matching her smile as she approached.

“Color, my love?” she asked, standing between his legs.

“Green, Miss.” he replied, and she smiled.

“Good.” she cooed as she removed his glasses, carefully setting them on the nightstand before tying the blindfold across his eyes. “I’ll take this off in a moment, darling. I just don’t want to spoil the special surprise I have planned for you. Can you see anything?”

Bob moved his head up and down and side to side to test it but the blindfold covered his eyes completely, not even a sliver of light getting through the top or bottom.

“No, Miss.” he answered and she made a noise of contentedness before walking back to the toy drawer.

Without his sight, his other senses took over. He could hear every step of her heels even on the carpet, excited by every rustling noise as she searched the drawer. He heard her return to the bed, laying something on the sheets beside him and returning to her place between his legs. He shivered when he felt her trail a finger down his chest, the feeling of her touch heightened by his missing sense.

“Sensitive without your sight?” she asked, carefully pushing him down onto the bed.

“Yes, Miss.” he replied, sucking in a breath when he felt her hands approach his bottom half.

She removed the rope on his underwear, leaving the ones on his chest and arms in place before removing his underwear completely. He was now completely bare before her, vulnerable as she grabbed the object from beside him, fiddling with what sounded like buckles. He was midway through mentally listing all the possibilities of what she had grabbed when he felt her grab his cock and give it a few tugs, spitting on it as she moved. He bit down on his lip, trying to remain quiet like she had instructed him before he entered the bathroom and he heard her chuckle.

“You can make noise, love. I wanna hear all the pretty noises coming from my pretty boy.” she told him and he sighed in relief, letting out the obscene moan that he had been holding back as she continued to toy with his cock.

“Oh fuuuuck! Thank you Miss!” he cried out as she put her mouth around his cock, feeling her smiling around it as she bobbed her head lightly.

She continued playing with his cock with both her mouth and her hands until he was fully hard, which didn’t take very long as he had still been fairly hard from all the teasing. Once he was fully erect, a bit of precum leaking from the head of his cock, she ripped off the blindfold. He blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the low lamp light and sucked in an excited breath as he took in what she was wearing. Standing between his legs, she had on a strap-on dildo and he knew that it was the one that had a vibrator inside the harness for her.

“Like what you see, baby?” she asked with a coy smile and he nodded, never taking his eyes off of her and the large dildo between her legs.

“Yes, Miss!” he replied, practically shaking with excited anticipation.

“Then beg me, baby.” she ordered, stroking his thighs. “I wanna hear you plead for me to fuck you in the ass.”

“Please peg me Miss! Please fuck me in the ass! I want it so badly, Miss!” he begged, voice wavering with desperation. “Please, please, please, Miss!”

“Alright, baby.” she cooed, picking up the bottle of lube from beside him and beginning to prepare his asshole with her lubed up fingers, her other hand lubing the dildo. “But I want to hear all your noises. Make every single person in this whole apartment building know that you get off from having your girlfriend peg you.”

“Oh, fuck! Yes, Miss! Please fuck me! I oh-” he cried out, his pleads cut off with a strangled gasp as she pushed into him suddenly, burying the dildo to the hilt.

She started slowly, carefully dragging the dildo out until just the tip was still inside him and then pushing back in with a snap of the hips as it slid back home. She began to pick up speed, reaching down to grab his legs and put them over her shoulders so she could get even deeper. Bob’s moans rang through the apartment like the sweetest song and she smiled as she continued to pound into him.

“Are you close after all that teasing, sweetheart?” she asked and he could only nod vigorously, unable to get any words out between the moaning and groaning.

Reaching her hand down to the harness, she switched on the vibrator nestled against her clit, the vibrations lightly vibrating the dildo as well, sending him to new heights of pleasure. After coming earlier and the powerful stimulation of the vibrator directly on her clit, it didn’t take long until she came, hips stuttering as she grasped his thighs tightly, his ankles still over her shoulders. She was panting out the aftershocks of her orgasm as she reached forwards to grasp his erect cock and stroke it lightly

“Oh, Miss please! Please!” he babbled with tears in his eyes, so close to the edge but needing that final push to send him over.

She grasped him by the hips and pulled him up just enough to let the dildo reach his prostate, and he shut his eyes with a loud cry as he came. She kept fucking him through his orgasm, not stopping stroking his cock even as the first hot ropes of his cum erupted from the tip, falling down to paint her hand and his chest. She continued to milk his cock until it was free of every last drop.

They stayed there for a moment, panting together as she looked down at him, his legs still over her shoulders, her strap-on still lodged in his asshole and lightly vibrating, his chest and the intricate rope patterns there covered in his own cum. She reached forwards, swiped her finger across some of the cum and put it into her mouth, smiling at him as she tasted his salty spend.

“Good boy…” she cooed.

[http-tokki]

~ levi ackerman x reader ~ tags/cw: canonverse, fluff, established relationships ~ cw: 520 ~ prompt: Holding your jacket over your lover's head as they hide from the rain, finding their formal outfit more important than your casual wear.

Holding your cloak over your and Levi's heads as you rush to his promotion. He had been promised the promotion from Lieutenant to Captain months ago, and after weeks of paperwork, countless secret trails, and oddly enough, one written exam, the day was here, and so was the rain. It had been pouring since the night before and hadn't let up as the sun rose, not even after you sent up a thousand prayers to whoever wanted to listen while helping Levi dress. You both had hoped that in the few minutes it had taken to cross the quarters that the clouds would decide to lessen up, just for a bit. Just long enough to run across the courtyard and into the dry and warm council rooms. A pipe dream you realized as you stood in the doorway, feeling the winter wind assault your skin.

"You wanna wait?" You ask nervously, eyes shifting from the pouring rain back to Levi, then back out again.

You feel Levi shift next to you.

"If we wait, we'll be late." Levi's fingers twitch at his side, itching to fix his collar once more.

"Late or wet?"

Levi's lips pull into a frown. "Wet," and he steps into the deluge.

You follow behind him quickly, cloak already between your fingers as you hold it over your head in a makeshift shelter. Making up the distance in a few seconds, you shift the wool from your head to Levi's as you walk beside him.

"But you'll get wet" Levi stops, stepping closer to you so you can share the shade.

"I'm in my cleaning clothes; you're in your uniform." You state and glance down at the straps adorning his thick thighs.

"And?"

"You're going into a meeting; I'm going back to my room. I don't need to be dry" you nod your head in the direction of the destination. "let's go; I don't know how long this will work"

Levi quickly leans in to press a kiss to your nose before you both turn and make haste for proper shelter. The walk itself isn't too long, but with the amount of rain that is bucketing down, people might have mistaken you for going for a midday swim.

"Good luck" you step back from Levi, afraid to wet his uniform. "You don't need it, but I wanted to say it anyway."

Levi smiles at you, cheeks rounding with the slightest hint of a dimple appearing.

"Thank you" he leans in, awaiting a kiss.

"I don't want to get you wet."

"Just kiss me, brat," his demand sends shivers up your spine. "Listen to your captain."

"You're not my captain yet," leaning in any way, very aware of the water that now dripped from your skin. "I'll give you a kiss when you become captain" you pull back, a wicked teasing grin spreading across your cheeks.

"I'll write you up for ignoring direct orders," Levi teases.

"I await the punishment for my disobedience."

Levi's cheeks tint pink as he scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I love you?"

"Love you. Now, go!" You nod towards the door. "Good luck, Captain."

[aleburton]

fuckzachariah​:

@aleburton​

Zach humored her, as he would occasionally allow, though not without a lazy eyeroll. “Supposing I should thank you, then, for your deep generosity.” Of physical and psychological torture. His lips tucked between his teeth as he fended off a bitter smile. He laughed through his nose. There were a thousand ways he could envision making this, now, far worse than she could conjure. “I think I need to start point blank ignoring you,” he mused. His gaze remained transfixed on the steady whoosh of the swinging fan blades, and he concentrated on feeling each swooping breeze cascade over his skin. But even as he ditstracted himself, he sensed the path her eyes travelled down his body, all the way to the faint outline protruding below his hips and up against the duvet. He couldn’t shift to guise it now; might as well lay stark. His lip twitched as she refused him. He wished a little that the bed would take him, rock him into a liquor-burned sleep, so he could experience the freedom in his dreams to do whatever the fuck he wanted to her. But it didn’t come. Wouldn’t. His body was alive, electric, every current passed from her shaking through him.

Alex shifted again, like air between the sheets, inching imperceptibly closer. His every nerve was keen to her. He hoisted his chin higher and almost laughed - you really wanna go there? But, of course she did. Alex asked these questions and she sought true, full answers, ones she could rifle through and pick apart the secrets of. She wanted to know him, and that still irked him a little; that anyone might give a fuck what existed beyond his diamond-crusted surface. He wasn’t sure even he did anymore. With a curt, disbelieving laugh, he began to comb through his memories, squinting as though this might help him make them out clearer. “Jesus. Give me a second.” He rectified himself. “Not trying to remember who took my virginity, by the way, I’m not that fuckin’ bad,” he laughed. “But when I started taking an interest in girls at all? Damn, I mean… I remember my first real crush.” His lip twitched. “And I remember the girl I lost it to.” He closed his eyes, pleased with having wiggled somewhat free of her delicious trap. “You can only have one story tonight. Pick.”

@fuckzachariah

She continued to survey him – each indistinct movement, every uneven breath. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling fan, intentionally failing to relinquish his full attention over to her. She understood why. The subtle swell beneath the covers exposed him entirely. Whatever she was doing was working although he desperately tried to hold out against it. Alexandra had yet to learn from her past experiences. Although she had become skilled in her ability to successfully tempt him into indulging her shameless desires, she would always regret it. When she was in control, she felt incredibly powerful, distracted from the fact that he was equally capable of bringing her to knees. And he did every single time. Perhaps she was a glutton for punishment. She had to be in order to remain in the relationship. To allow them to do the gruesome things they did to one another and still continue on. She was only inches away, flirting with her carnal urges like a moth to a flame.

Alex smiled ardently as he laughed, wishing she could hear it over and over again. They were always good – just like this. No diversions or dramatics. They were authentic and in love. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” she mumbled in her own defense, interrupting his explanation. “Take all the time you need.” Her eyes flittered across his features, admiring them as he contemplated his response. He countered, offering up only one piece of information. She flattened her tongue against the back of her teeth, sucking them softly. “What fun is that? You seem to know all my dirty little secrets.” She lifted herself upward, turning gently onto her stomach and balanced on her elbows. The silken material of her chemise was now folded and rumpled even more, exposing the vale between her full breasts. “Fine,” she asserted, looping her finger through the wilted strap to lift it back up her shoulder. She pondered for a moment. Recounting the loss of his virginity was likely nowhere near as revealing as discussing his crush. Although he was selective with who he slept with, it did not mean that he valued sex at all. At least not in the way that she did. The other required a bit more vulnerability. An admission that although he had never truly been in love prior to her, he felt some semblance of something for someone else. “Tell me about your crush.”

[candlecoo]

Do you have any cyberpunk au's?

I don't but I have some ideas.

- humanity has destroyed the earth through neglect turning it into a wasteland. Which forced humanity into artificial environments deep underground, locked away from the surface for hundreds if not thousands of years.

- nobody thinks about the surface though.

- the society underground is seemingly perfect. With no crime, control over the little aspects of life like weather or environment, and no wasted potential.

- people are raised in mass age groups by government run programs until they become of age and are assessed and given roles.

- Izuku Midoriya had been given a role as entry level analyst two years prior when he turned fifteen, and mostly worked with public relations.

- everything seemed perfect.

- but after a chance encounter with a man in hiding named Yagi Toshinori everything changes.

- Yagi was once in public relations as well, more of a face for the people, that is until he went rouge. He started spewing out conspiracies and claims of this world being a false utopia. That is until he disappeared six years prior.

- the Yagi Izuku remembers was a tall, strong imposing figure. Now withered away held together with prosthetics and wires.

- "as soon as you oppose the order, they'll attempt to fix you, young Midoriya." The man wheezed "they'll pluck you out of the life you know and experiment on you. Punish you by replacing what makes you human with cybernetics. In my experience it started with the limbs, and if you continue to rebel moves onto to the inner workings of the body."

- The man lifted his shirt revealing fully exposed synthetic organs, gears and wiring exposed through clear plastic like material replacing his skin.

- "and if you still struggle, if you still fight. They replace parts of your min-" the older man cut off, his face going blank. As if he was resetting before he smiled softly. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about my boy?"

- it was wrong. Everything in Izuku wanted to reject everything the man was saying, but the proof was set out before him.

- after that meeting he noticed more and more. The occasional person who disappeared on unplanned "vacations" and came back slightly different. Not always physically but mentally no longer holding the grievances they once had.

- he noticed that the control wasn't extended only to the city and it's environment, but to the people as well.

- how all knowledge or information on the outside world and the world above was strictly forbidden and locked away.

- but most of all Izuku could feel as if something was watching him, no matter what he did. The feeling never went away only increased over time.

- until one day after a visit to Yagi, he found that he didn't awaken in his assigned apartment, but instead strapped to a table in an unknown room.

- he couldn't move his head to look around but he could hear two voices drifting in from close by.

- "the arms should be enough doctor, we just need to reinforce the rules not break him. He is still very important to us so please remember to be... Gentle."

- a gruff huff and then "as you wish, master." Before the pain set in and the "experiment" started.

- the next thing he knew, he woke up in a plain room with two prosthetic arms and no idea how to get home, or any idea if he wanted to return home.

- with a dread in his heart he longed for freedom. Freedom from the control, freedom from the city in general.

- but he didn't think they would be allowing him to leave anytime soon...