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#Ettore
myfandomprompts · 2 months
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“I think method acting gets a bad rap nowadays, but if you consider it [in relation to] people’s time, it’s certainly not a bad thing.” - EWAN MITCHELL, for The Face
[The A24 Project]
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terrorofthetrident · 2 months
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“Every job I do, I’m always trying to hone my craft and develop new skills to add to my arsenal. Every job I do is like an apprenticeship because I never went to drama school. I’m learning on my feet.”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY EWAN MITCHELL!
⇢March 8, 1997
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barbieaemond · 19 days
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For science 🧪
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happilyhertale · 1 year
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Destiny is all - Osferth x female!reader, Part 1
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Summary: You are Finan's sister. You live in a village in Scotland, near the border with Northumbria. You lead a quiet life until your brother decides to visit you with his boys and your life changes completely.
Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader
Author’s note: Hey you (:
Now I am finally sharing my little Osferth story with you. The events are a little different from the story in the series. (No, Osferth will not die either). I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:
Word count: 2.2 k
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Other stories of mine
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The sun, which has been high in the sky all day, is slowly tilting towards the earth. Four men ride silently side by side. Every now and then an exhausted grunt can be heard. As soon as the grunt is silenced, it is usually answered with another grunt. They have been riding like this for days now. Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth are on their way from the northernmost point in Scotland back to Wessex.
The men are exhausted by the long distance they have already covered on horseback. The not very restful nights they have already spent in various forests do not diminish their exhaustion.
"Lord. We could spend the night in a village today," Finan says after another grunt.
Uhtred turns slightly in Finan's direction, "If we ride through the night, we should be in Northumbria by tomorrow"
"But Lord… We should stop and rest. I'm tired of the sight of my horse's head... his ears in particular," Osferth chimes in.
Sihtric turns to Uhtred as well, "I wouldn't say no either"
Osferth continues to nod in agreement.
Uhtred sighs, "Very well… The next village is headed for"
"We would have a place to sleep there for sure too," Finan says to Uhtred with a grin. Uhtred sees Finan's grin and becomes curious.
"Do you have a sweetheart up here?" asks Uhtred with raised eyebrows.
"Not exactly. My family lives there and we could sleep and eat there"
"What? I thought you were from Ireland," Osferth looks at him questioningly.
Finan nods, "We're originally from Ireland. But my parents moved over with me and my sister"
Uhtred just shakes his head with a smile.
The men rode on again in silence. Every now and then a grunt can be heard. But it was a done deal, they were on their way to Finan's family.
You stand in front of your little house. The evening sun shines on your face and you enjoy it. You close your eyes for a moment. Your little house is located on the edge of a village, near the forest. You enjoy the peace and quiet that the location offers you, and that you can let your gaze wander into the forest at any time as soon as the hustle and bustle of the village becomes too much for you. Slowly you open your eyes again and take a deep breath. You still want to water the flower bed before you retire for the evening. As you put the bucket down, you hear noises in the forest behind you. You turn around, but in the twilight you can't really see if anyone is there. Out of habit, you reach for the dagger tucked under the skirt of your dress.
"Who is there?" you ask in a firm voice.
But instead of an answer, you only hear the rustling of the bushes at the edge of the forest.
Suddenly a Dane steps out of the forest and you instinctively hold up your dagger. You are ready to defend yourself. Your breath catches in your throat, but the Dane just grins at you. "Finan! I didn't know that your parents can also produce something beautiful", the Dane says.
Finan? How does he know your brother...?
"Aye! Lord! Shut up!", Finan suddenly stands next to the Dane. Your lungs fill with air again as you see your brother smiling at you from a short distance away.
You don't hesitate for long. "Finan!" you shout and run towards him. You throw your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms tightly around you.
"Heey... my little one," he says softly and presses you closer to him.
You sob a little. He loosens the embrace and takes your face in his hands, "Ey... y/n.... If I had known ya missed me so much, I would have stopped by sooner," he smiles at you. You wipe tears from your face and have to laugh for a moment.
"What are ya doing here?" you finally ask your brother.
"We're just passing through and I thought we were due for a visit"
Only now do you become aware and remember the Dane. But when you look behind Finan, you see two other men standing there. But your gaze immediately falls on the blond monk. However, he immediately averts his gaze from you when he realises that he has been caught staring. Now you notice another Dane. Somehow you seem to like this mixture of the troupe. Finan turns around as well, "Sorry y/n. This is Uhtred, Sihtric and our baby Monk, Osferth"
You notice the monk giving Finan a warning look. The Danes, on the other hand, give you a friendly nod. Finan turns back to you, "Where are mother and father? Are they in the house? We are starving!" Finan is all euphoric.
You gently touch his forearm, "Finan...", you speak softly. He looks at you, but you only shake your head slightly.
"What...?" he whispers, sadness crossing his face.
"The fever took them last winter... First mother, then father..." you whisper.
He shakes his head slightly now too and you wrap your arms around him. After a short silence, you hear Finan murmur into your hair, "You're here all alone?"
You nod, "That must be enough for you now"
He just nods slowly and you can still see the sadness in his face.
You smile up at him, "Come, let's go into the house... I've put on some soup"
Together you go into the house. The men sit down at the table and you serve them the soup. There is not much talking at first, as they simply enjoy the warm meal. When they have finished, you prepare ale for everyone. Light conversation now fills the room. Osferth tries to comfort Finan, to say something nice about your parents. But Finan doesn't want to hear about it at the moment. After a while you take the dagger, which is again under your skirt and presses uncomfortably against your thigh, and put it on the table.
"Feisty... You always carry a dagger with you?", the Dane, Uhtred asks you. You look at him a little amused, "Men sometimes don't understand what 'no' means. So it can't hurt to have something with you to back up your opinion"
Uhtred grins and raises his cup "I'm afraid that's true"
You grin at him and join him in a toast.
When there is a knock at the door, you get up and go over. You open the door and your good mood is immediately dampened.
"Edward... what do ya want here?" you ask, a little annoyed. Alarmed by your tone, Finan looks at the door. From the door, there is no view of the table and so Edward does not notice that he is now being overheard by four guys.
"Y/n... I thought... maybe you'd like some company tonight...?"
He is visibly drunk and grinning at you.
"No, Edward. I told you the other day that it wasn't going to happen again"
Finan's expression darkens.
"Oh come on... Don't you miss it...?" he winks at you.
"What would she miss?"
You startle a little as Finan suddenly stands behind you. Edward looks startled too and just stammers around. Words like "nothing" and "just making sure everything is okay" leave his mouth.
"Good. And do not worry, everything is fine here," Finan lets Edward know as he closes the door.
You look at him indignantly, "Finan! I can handle it myself!"
He just walks back to the table and takes a big gulp of ale. You stand in the room a little speechless. You look at Finan and shoot daggers at him. But Finan continues to stand with his back to you and does not look at you.
Sihtric and Uhtred just grin and look at each other. But you notice Osferth looking at you again. He is probably shocked that a woman would seek the company of a man even though she is not married. You sigh softly and go back to the table. You sit down and shake your head slightly.
Finan looks at you again, "What...? You're my sister. I'll always look out for ya. And... the last time I was here, ya liked Edward, didn't ya?"
"I did," you emphasise, "Until I found him between another woman's thighs"
Osferth chokes on his ale and you look at him somewhat amused. He has to grin now, too, and he wipes the ale running down his chin with his hand. You have to chuckle a little, but somehow you like the sight.
But Finan turns your attention back to himself, "He did what? That bastard... Let me go to him..." Finan is about to get up, but you pull him down by his arm.
"No... There's no need for that. That's done and in the past. Really," you smile at him, but Finan doesn't really look convinced.
He just grumbles something to himself and drinks from his ale. You stroke his arm gently.
The later the hour gets, the louder the conversations become. You laugh a lot and talk to each other across the table. You enjoy having your brother and his friends with you. At some point, Uhtred has persuaded you to show him how you can defend yourself against men with your hands if you don't have your dagger with you. But it always ends up with Uhtred putting his arm around your neck from behind or you just giggle and somehow try to bring Uhtred down.
Eventually you sit down at the table again. You are still a little out of breath when Osferth, who is now sitting next to you, addresses you directly, "Lady... isn't it dangerous for a woman to live here alone?"
Uhtred interjects, "Well... if the possible attacker just stands still and doesn't fight back, then y/n has a chance to defend herself," Uhtred grins at you.
But you do not answer Uhtred, instead you kick him under the table.
Uhtred laughs as you turn back to Osferth, smiling.
You look at him curiously now, "Would it be safer for a woman somewhere else?"
He scratches the back of his neck, "Well... if you were at least in company... and there was no Edward lurking outside your door"
You have to chuckle a little and notice a smile forming around his lips too as it dawns on you. "Ooh yes! I'll come with ya"
Now Finan chokes on his ale and Uhtred grins again. As he calms down, he looks at you, "No way. You're safer here than being out with us"
"Finan!" you utter indignantly, but he just shakes his head.
When Sihtric speaks up, "Honestly, she's probably safer with the four of us. There's no one here to look after her"
Uhtred nods slowly in conviction.
"And if we go into battle?", Finan looks slightly overwhelmed.
"Then of course I won't be there. Then I'll cook you dinner in the meantime... Or keep the bed warm," you answer with a grin. As a sister, you know what drives Finan up the wall.
He gives you a warning look and continues to shake his head, "That's not funny... and that's out of the question"
He stands up and goes outside to pee.
Now you shake your head and stand up.
"Guys... It's late... I'm going to sleep now. This will not end well here otherwise"
Sihtric and Uhtred nod at you. Osferth smiles slightly at you, "Good night lady y/n" and you return his smile.
When Finan returns, he sees that you have gone to bed. He sighs and sits back down at the table with the boys. Uhtred's gaze is on Finan, "You know it would be the right decision. She's here all alone, and I'm sure Edward's not the only one knocking on her door"
Finan gives him a warning look.
"I'm just saying. Your parents aren't here anymore, she has no one here to look after her. And with us, she'd have four men by her side looking after her", Uhtred continues
Silence now reigns at the table as the boys continue to drink their ale. Until Finan just nods and gets up from the table again. "Okay... But if even one of ya tries to hit on my sister..." he adds warningly before disappearing into an adjacent room.
The next morning you come out of your chamber. Three men lie on furs on the floor. Light snoring fills the room. You leave the house and go into the garden behind it. Everything is still quiet, a few birds are chirping. You watch as the sun slowly rises and makes the shadows of the forest look less threatening.
Suddenly Finan is standing next to you. You are startled and flinch briefly.
"Holy Lord! Finan!", you lightly punch his arm. He says nothing, but smiles slightly. He also looks in the direction of the sunrise.
"Ya can come with us. Although I know it's dangerous for ya to accompany us... But I also have to admit that it's probably more dangerous for ya to stay here alone..."
You smile at him.
Slowly he looks in your direction, "Ya have to listen to me though"
You grin at him, "I never have Finan"
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@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @chainsawsangel
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Deadlock
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Summary: A jealous Ettore endeavours to remind her just who is in control | Word Count: 1.9k~ | Warnings: dubcon, ettore, face fucking, breath play, degradation, face slapping, jealous ettore, come swallowing
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It was dangerous and they both knew it. Someone was bound to find out sooner or later. But what punishment could be worse than what their lives currently were? For her, the worst that Dibs could do was up her sedatives and forgo the use of lubrication when her bi-weekly examinations were due.
Ettore on the other hand didn't care much for thinking how he could be punished. All he thought in terms of that, was what he could do to her.
He remembers fucking seething, sat on one side of the canteen, not even paying attention to how tightly he gripped the fork in his palm, wound tight with anger and resentment as she watched her and Monte chat lazily while they picked out their food.
To anyone else, it was merely a friendly, non-committal conversation. And if Ettore really thought about it, he'd have realised that displaying any kind of jealousy would expose their situation, whatever it was.
So even though he wanted to put his fist through Monte's face, he remained seated, and occasionally caught her gaze as she ate as well. The stupid bitch furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering why he looked so pissed off.
She'd find out. He'd make sure of it.
Once the lights were dimmed in their superficial nighttime, he could feel his heart simmering with both jealous rage and excitement as he made his way to her cell on the other side of the ship. 
His blood ran hot with each shallow stride, his narrowed eyes creeping into every doorway as he passed with the soft pats of the air conditioning against his bare chest. His neck muscles tightened, forming his hands into fists in an attempt to remain grounded and in control of himself. 
In the low fluorescent light, he could make out her face and every single miniscule feature. Unlike the stoic, cold expression she wore when she was awake, when she was asleep she looked near peaceful.
Her arms were tucked beneath the pillow beneath her head, the slope of her back visible with the plain white shirt that clung to her form. The blanket, with her constant fidgeting, had slipped down her back, and he dug his fingernails into his palm when he saw the slither of soft, feminine skin at her hip.
With a half-annoyed huff, she turned over in her sleep, laying on her back, the flesh of her neck stretched so deliciously he could have sunk his teeth right into her and torn her apart like an over-ripened peach.
From this distance, he swore he felt the vibration of her fluttering heartbeat beneath her skin. The blood flooding through her veins.
All laid out like this, vulnerable and open, his mind began to whir as if he were in first gear, his thoughts banging loud and intrusive. His darkened eyes traced the contours of her face with his gaze, so achingly real and fragile.
Her eyes flew open when his palm wrenched over her mouth tightly, fingers digging into her jaw painfully and the other hand pinning her arm to the mattress. For a brief moment, that wide-eyed, primal fear and hurriedly breathing as she woke made that raw excitement simmer hotter.
A smirk aroused across his face, dark, animalistic eyes drawing closer, and voice quiet like the whisper of a predator, stalking and mocking their prey.
"Quiet now," he hissed, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "No screaming."
His voice carried a menacing edge, a promise of darker consequences if she dared to defy him.
Her heart pounded in her chest, a wild cacophony of fear and arousal. She tried to struggle against his hold, but his grip only tightened, holding her in place with a ruthless strength that left her feeling powerless.
Her eyes gleamed with anger as he peeled his hand away from her mouth, her words sharp like a knife’s edge, “what the fuck do you think you're doing?”
His smirk disappeared, a dark seriousness dancing in his eyes as he leaned closer, the intensity of his presence almost suffocating. "Reminding you of who's in control here."
She bristled at his arrogance, her jaw clenched in defiance. "You don't get to decide that," she shot back, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "I'm not some toy for you to play with whenever you feel like it."
His jaw clenched, the muscles tensing with barely contained anger. "You were flirting," he accused, his voice low and edged with bitterness. "With him.”
She could have laughed.
“You cannot be fucking serious.”
Her breath crept back in her throat as soon as his hand wrapped around it, swallowing thickly to try and keep her expression neutral and unfearing.
“You and Monte can measure dicks all you like, but what I do is none of your damn business.”
His grip around her windpipe slowly loosened and he went quiet. But she knew better than to assume it meant this was resolved.
With lips pressed together in annoyance, his fingers crept into her hair at her crown and pulled her forcefully from her bed, her knees knocking against the floor with a pained wince as he forced her to kneel in front of him.
The tug at her roots hurt, but all the same, once she saw how he eagerly lowered his sweatpants over his hips, grunting with annoyance the longer it took, arousal pooled in her stomach nonetheless.
“Had enough of your fucking voice.”
He stroked himself firmly in his palm, rousing himself to half hardness, her hair still gripped in his other hand, “Open.”
Despite herself, she raised her chin and did no such thing, her jaw tightened in defiance.
A surprised gasp is all that came out when he struck the left side of her face, pain blooming in a harsh sting. And while her eyes were shut, Ettore held her jaw in a vice-like grip and pulled her back, taking advantage of her parted lips to slide his half hard cock into her mouth.
“Fuck -” he tipped his head back at the warmth of her throat squeezing him, trying to swallow air past the blockage that remained still. 
The hold on her hair remained tight, pushing her lips as far on himself as she would go, until he felt the fat head of his cock hit the back of her throat, spluttering softly around him as he hardened.
He used the leverage he had to move her head on him when, with a whine, her hands came to his thigh to push him away, as a means of punishing her.
“Shut the fuck up,” he warned lowly, watching with some sick kind of satisfaction as her eyes cracked open to look up at him, with those moist eyes he wouldn't admit he enjoyed so much.
He kept her there for a moment, before easing her off, allowing her to suck in air through her nose for a brief moment. But he didn't allow her a moment's reprieve for long and with the aid of her saliva coating his shaft, he fucked himself between her lips with ease, her whimpers coming quieter.
“Fuck - that's it-” he breathed, his voice softening as warmth crept up his spine, her eyelashes decorated with a constellation of tears as he snapped his hips against her face.
The sound that thumps throughout the room is borderline pornographic, hitting the back of her throat hard with little care if it hurts or not, the way she tries to swallow and gag around him is worth it.
He stills, pushing her head as far on him as she will go, a pleased smirk rising to his face as she glances up at him, with the beginnings of tears pooling in her waterline.
Held there, he counts mechanically in his head, watching the way she squirms for air.
“You look so fucking stupid with my cock in your mouth,” he grins darkly, moving her head side to side on him, the friction making a jolt of white hot pleasure zip through his body. He has to tighten his grip just to keep himself from coming too soon.
She whines, trying to pull herself back, gasping for air around his length.
“Hold it-”
She clenched her fists, eyes screwed shut so that tears now ran over her face. For that, he kept her there for a few more seconds, before loosening his grip, allowing his cock to slip from between her lips as she swallowed air once again down her lungs.
Moving the hair from her moistened face, he guided her back to him with a touch that was uncharacteristic. Ettore's eyes were hooded, feeling himself twitch with excitement as her lips instinctively parted. From this angle, he could see the way her nipples hardened beneath her shirt, and how her thighs were pressed together to relieve the ache that had formed there.
He tapped the now slick head of his cock against her bottom lip, “Go on, finish me off.”
She said nothing and took him, at first, slowly, bobbing on him with a vigour, pressing her tongue flat against the thick vein on the underside. A notion that made his balls tighten and his neck muscles strain.
He always liked her messy, so when he looked back down with awe at the way her saliva made his length glisten everytime she dove back on him, all he wanted to do was take back that control.
But instead he put his arms behind his back and watched, one of her hands came to the base of him, stroking what she couldn't fit comfortably. The other slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear, the moan she let out vibrating through him and tugging him closer to the edge.
As he neared it, his hips subconsciously matched the rhythm she made, chasing that delicious friction, her lips tight around him. And when he hand dropped to cup his balls, gently teasing him to come sooner than he wanted, he bought both hands to her face, threading them in her hair and fucked her mouth ceaselessly to completion.
She remained quiet, only letting out a few sounds that could have been between a whimper and a moan as he pushed his pelvis against her face, hard, one last time, and trembled with pleasure as his come slid down her throat.
The sensation of her swallowing around him had his fingers tighten in her hair with overstimulation. 
With one sure movement, he pulled himself from her lips, stroking his sensitive length against her wet, open mouth and watching in awe as his pearly spend painted her tongue.
She cracked her eyes open, her waterline moistened and red-rimmed. Her knees ached against the hard floor as Ettore smeared what was left on the tip over her cheek, leaving a trail of his come and her saliva sticky on her face.
Ettore's chest heaved, and she could watch him like this all day if she could, his lips parted as he watched her lips close to swallow. But he stepped back a pace and pulled his sweatpants back over his hips.
Just as quickly, his eyes were all dark again, his voice breathy and quick, “Don't push it,” he warned with icy, cold venom, “you won't like what happens if you do it again.”
With the musky taste of him coating her mouth and the wetness between her thighs, though she didn't express it, she very much doubted it.
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General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies
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hoosbandewan · 1 month
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EVERY EWAN MITCHELL ROLE — Ettore in High Life (2018)
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A collection of all my writing. ♡
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12 Days of Smuff Masterlist
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Aemond Targaryen x OC
Series Masterlist (ONGOING) (18+)
Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, Lady of Runestone, was not born of love. Nor passion. Nor even a sense of duty. She was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge. But even a child born of such darkness can find her way to the light. With her mother dead, and father flown across the Narrow Sea with a new wife, the girl is taken in by her Aunt, the Queen Alicent Hightower, to be raised among the little family she has left. There, she finds her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. The two spend long nights in the palace library together, studying the histories of both Old Valyria and the First Men, seeking to understand who they are and where they fit in the world. But finding that place proves more difficult than in the fairy tales they read. The seeds of disaster were laid long before they were born, and as tensions in the family rise, it seems as though their places may begin to diverge. Will they let themselves be pulled apart as the dragons dance?
Warnings: Mentions of rape, m/f smut, violence
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Studious (ONGOING) (18+) Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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Moodboard by @sapphirehearteyes
Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI
Your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince is not as romantic as you hoped. The wedding night is beyond awkward and confusing, and afterward, your husband seems more than content to ignore you. But you keep finding yourself drawn to him, and the strange way he makes you feel. And though you don't know it, he is drawn to you as well.
Warnings: SMUT, p in v sex, masturbation (m and f) bad sex (these kids have no idea what they're doing), Aegon saying Aegon things, all the awkwardness in the world
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What is Broken (WIP) Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Sister-wife!Reader
Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV
The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...
Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, maybe smut in the future
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Inconceivable (WIP) Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader
Part I - Part II
Westeros has been at peace for nearly a year, and a wedding has been planned to celebrate the anniversary. King Jacaerys will marry his aunt, the only surviving child of the Greens, and unite both Targaryen bloodlines at last. It is a fairy tale ending, but this is no ordinary fairy tale...
Warnings: Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles... Angst, grief, forced marriage, more to be added
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My Fair Lady's Maid (WIP) (18+) Prince Aemond Targaryen x Lady's Maid!Reader
Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV
Frustrated with his grandsire's tedious and thorough process of choosing him a "suitable" bride, Aemond makes a declaration that a lady's maid could be indistinguishable from a true noblewoman so long as she was sufficiently dressed and educated in embroidery, conversation, and the like. Otto takes this as a challenge, and gives Aemond four months to turn one of Helaena's lady's maids into a noblewoman.
Warnings: Smut
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The Girl at the Table (WIP) (18+) Michael Gavey x Reader
Michael has a plan for Oxford: complete his degree at the top of the class, avoid the wealthy, spoiled pricks that make up the majority of the student body, and stay focused. The plan begins well, until a girl begins sitting at his study table.
Warnings: Smut, math
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Monsters in the Garden (ONGOING) (DDDNE) (18+) Ettore x Reader
Part I - Part II - Part III
No one comes to your garden but you, not even Dr. Dibs. So what is the most dangerous man on the ship doing leaning against your doorway and watching you work?
Warnings: SMUT; hand job; kissing; blood; mentions of rape, murder, and violence; female genital mutilation; vague mentions of corpse mutilation
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Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape (WIP) Osferth x Reader
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Series Masterlist
When he arrives in Coccham to join with Lord Uhtred Ragnarsson's band of righteous warrior, Osferth does not get the greeting he expected. Uhtred himself is very clear that he has only accepted the young monk to irritate his father, and the few warriors he is introduced to delight in picking fun at him. Still, it is better than the monastery, the Lady of the estate is kind to him, and the servant girl who leads him to his new chambers is... something entirely new to Osferth. Something that, perhaps, will help him understand what the Bible means when it speaks of love.
Note: This is a series of inter-connected oneshots that can be read together or on their own.
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That Pointy-Eared Blond Bastard (WIP) (18+) Half-Vulcan!Aemond x Human(?)Reader
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Graduation - Away Team - Red Alert - Holodeck - Pon Farr
You are Aemond's greatest rival at Starfleet Academy. Or you would be, if he cared enough to have rivals. Vulcans don't care that much. But Aemond is only half Vulcan. And you... you bring out something decidedly non-Vulcan in him.
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A Companion (WIP) Otto Hightower x Young Widow!Reader
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Series Masterlist
At the suggestion of Princess Rhaenyra, King Viserys Targaryen had commanded that his Hand, Otto Hightower, find a new bride. Preferably at the King's own wedding to Otto's daughter Alicent. While the Princess intended the suggestion as a form of revenge for Otto's machinations which led to the royal engagement, he intends to make the best of it. While he has always known that his late wife, Madelyn, is the great love of his life, he welcomes the idea of finding a tolerable companion. What he doesn't expect is you, a lady widowed far too young, who begins to spark feelings within him he thought long extinguished.
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flowerandblood · 2 months
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The Void of the Sky
[ canon • Ettore x doctor's assistant • female ]
[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination kink, aggressive behavior, rape attempts, violence, swearing, unprotected sex, description of wounds ]
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[ description: Ettore decides to take part in a space experiment from which he guesses he will never return. Already on the ship, his attention is drawn to a young girl who turns out to be the assistant of the fucked-up doctor Dibs. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension. ]
Author's note: This is my first story with Ettore, which was inspired by a request, it was supposed to be just a oneshot. This was very strange and disturbing to write, let me know if you would like further parts describing the story of this couple!
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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He already knew this when he sat in this fucking ship, when he saw her in front of him – her tired, terrified gaze, her resignation, her fear. She looked at him as if believing that no matter what he had done in the past he understood her and what she was experiencing, that they were going through what was about to happen to them together.
What they were doomed to.
They glanced at each other all the way to the space station from which they were to fly away never to return. He watched her wordlessly – her long lashes, her pleasantly rounded cheeks, her plump, puffy lips glistening in the disturbing blue light.
He thought, looking boredly around the ship at the other female faces, that if he had to choose which one he would fuck first, he would choose her.
She was pretty, her figure girlish, she seemed fragile to him – he decided that he would easily squash her to the mattress or the floor, one or two punches of his fist on that soft face and she would let him do to her whatever he wanted.
He knew that, like him, all the crew members selected for the mission were criminals sentenced to life imprisonment and he wondered what such an inconspicuous person could have done.
Perhaps she was not as vulnerable as she seemed to him at first glance.
He grinned involuntarily at the thought, deciding that he needed to find out.
How much force he would have to put in to get her to finally stop resisting him, whether he would have to hit her face with his fist until she lost consciousness, making her look like a squashed tomato, or whether it would be enough for him to choke her a little, ordering her to shut up the fuck.
He sighed quietly, tilting his head back, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his cock at the thought, recognising that sooner or later he would put his plan into action.
He was patient.
As it turned out, she wasn't a regular crew member, but an assistant to Dr Dibs, that dumb whore playing God, who on top of that announced that there was a complete prohibition on sexual intercourse on the spaceship.
He would come into their office to give his sperm just to look at her; while Dr Dibs was sitting over the microscope, apparently selecting the most fertile ova, she was writing something, obviously taking notes, always looking at him when he came in – he would grin involuntarily, wondering if she had heard the smack of his hand against his balls while he was jerking off.
As he left, handing Dibs the vessel, he always looked at her, but she no longer bestowed a single glance on him, frustrating him.
"I want my treat." He growled in her direction, wishing she would bestow at least one fucking look on him and not act like a spoiled little bitch, but it was Dibs who would give him the pill, which he would immediately put in his mouth, not taking his eyes off her as he left.
He knew she sensed what he wanted to do to her and was prepared for it.
It was a simple, animal, primal need.
He could satisfy it with anyone or by himself, but he always came back to her anyway.
To his displeasure, it turned out that her position for some reason came with additional privileges, such as a separate cabin in which she slept.
She did not have to clean or tend the garden, her duties being limited to taking notes, treating wounds and overseeing the energy system of the entire spaceship.
She was the opposite of Dr Dibs and her cool sociopathy – he knew that on several occasions she had helped the female part of the crew to get rid of the unwanted effect of her experiment.
Once, while wiping the floor on his knees, he witnessed Dibs slap her, apparently realizing that she was acting behind her back.
"Who the fuck do you think you are? Don't you ever do that again. Do you understand? Your job is to make reports." She hissed, digging her finger into her chest – she snorted under her breath, staring at her with pity and moved ahead.
"You will never become a mother." She said calmly, walking past him, throwing him one intense look before disappearing behind the door of her cabin.
He watched her like a predator, her routine, her habits – he knew exactly her schedule, hours and days of the week when she replaced Dibs in her duties.
One day, knowing that she would be alone and the rest of the crew were busy with their tasks, he left the garden and headed for her office, deciding that this was the day.
He stood in the doorway without making a sound, simply looking at her, her back turned to him, bent over some pills which she was obviously sorting.
He approached her silently, his large hand muffling the scream of surprise that broke from her throat – he cursed loudly as she, with a swift, sure movement, stabbed his arm with a scalpel which she apparently had hidden in the pocket of her medical apron.
He let her go, enraged, pulling the blade out of his arm with a hiss and slapped her across the face with all his might. She fell to the ground as if stunned and stupefied – with a brutal movement he flipped her onto her back and crushed her with his body, trying to slide down his trousers.
"− don't you fuckin' dare −" He growled, grabbing her quickly by the wrist in which she held another scalpel. He snatched it forcibly from between her fingers and threw it far to the floor with a clang of steel, his hands quickly searched her pockets for other sharp objects – he grinned under his breath as he felt a razor blade under his fingertips.
"− I see you've prepared well, hm? − like to struggle a bit first? −" He asked with some kind of amusement while she drew in the air loudly and slammed him on the head with her forehead using all her strength – he growled with rage and punched her in the face with his fist, clenching his fingers on her cheeks, a big red bruise under her eye.
She didn't scream or lash out, she just looked at him, breathing hard, trying to push him away – he wondered how there was so much fucking strength and will to fight in such a small petite being.
"− Ettore, for fuck's sake − use the box −" She growled angrily, feeling him rub his swollen erection between her thighs, an impatient, loud sigh of pleasure escaped his lips.
"− I prefer your cunt − tight and warm −" He gasped as he grabbed the material of her panties with an aggressive, sure motion of his fingers, ripping them off in one violent stroke – she surprised him when she lifted herself up and bit his cheek as hard as if she wanted to bite off a big piece of his skin.
"− FUCK − FUCK − LET GO, YOU FUCKIN' WHORE! −" He groaned hitting her on the head with his open palm – he heard a scream behind him a moment later, Dibs and Monte ran into the office, dragging him away.
She was lying on her back breathing heavily, looking at him and shook her head disapprovingly, as if he was a small disobedient child, her lips red with his blood.
"− let him go, Monte −" She said softly, adjusting the material of her skirt, Dr Dibs helped her up and looked at him tightening her lips, her brow furrowed in disapproval.
"− fucking animal − you're prohibited from using the box for five days −" Dibs ordered, and he snarled under his breath, pulling himself out of Monte's grasp and left, calling her a stupid old cunt under his breath, rubbing his sore cheek.
Small wounds in the shape of her teeth remained on his face for the next few days, making him realize that the matter would not be as easy as he thought.
She was unpredictable.
Just like him.
He would annoy and provoke Monte and Tcherny to get into a fight with them only to have them beat the crap out of him, and he would end up at her door with cut lips, bruises and other injuries that she was obliged to take care of.
She did this, but she always strapped him to the doctor's chair first, tightening special black belts around his wrists, attached to the whole structure at the sides of his body so that he couldn't touch her.
His manhood throbbed greedily in his trousers as she leaned over him, her face calm and focused, sad, her hand holding cotton swabs soaked in antiseptic liquid to gently wash his swollen, sore wounds.
She never used latex gloves, as if she was thus allowing him at least a little intimacy, the touch of her naked body.
He pressed his cheek to her palm, closing his eyes, and she froze for a moment, letting him feel the warmth and softness of her skin – she smelled of soap, her fingers long and delicate, made only for admiration, not defence.
He sighed when she stroked his cheek with her thumb, not opening his eyes – he could feel her looking at him, her warm breath enveloping his face.
"You have to stop." She said quietly, but her soft fingers didn't stop brushing his face. They ran over it like a map, touching his mouth, nose, cheeks, eyebrows, jaw so gently and tenderly that he just fell asleep – he thought he felt her warm, moist lips pressed against his forehead for a moment.
When he woke up, he was already unstrapped, there was no one in the office.
Eventually he began to come to her for no reason, circling around the doctor's office pretending with curiosity to look at what stood on the shelves and in the cabinets – he saw out of the corner of his eye that there were always a few scalpels lying next to her on the desk, just in case.
"You shouldn't be here." She sighed, bent over her notes as usual. He hummed under his breath, glancing at one of the containers filled with pills – he shook it, and they clattered loudly inside.
"You don't take part in these fucked-up experiments of Dibs. You don't use the box. Why?" He asked casually, putting his hands in the pockets of his red trousers, turning and heading towards the gynaecology chair, looking at it intrigued.
"I prefer the touch of my own hand. It's soft and warm." She replied calmly, writing something down quickly.
He glanced at her over his shoulder, wondering whether or not she would have had time to grab a scalpel in her hand if he had stepped behind her and knocked her over along with the chair.
"What about the touch of someone else's hand? Hm?" He grunted, heading towards her, but she stood up; he stopped seeing that her hand immediately reached for the blade and clamped down on it confidently, her breasts rising and falling in accelerated breath.
"No." She said warningly.
"I think about it every day, you know? About what I would do to you, how wet your pussy would be for me. Cuz I know you're wet now. Always lookin' at me with those big fuckin' puppy eyes." He muttered, making another attempt, walking forward with a slow, lazy step, her hand holding the blade raised.
"Put it the fuck down. We'll do it either your way or my way. No third option. Take of your panties. C'mon." He encouraged her with a nod, not pulling his hand out of his trousers, his swollen, throbbing cock clearly outlined against the material of his pants.
She stared at him in disbelief, breathing loudly – he bit his bottom lip seeing that she lowered her hand slowly, her gaze scared and distrustful, full of doubt.
"We'll do it my way." She mumbled quietly.
"Fine." He replied indifferently, feeling that he was completely hard, waiting for her move.
He watched as she flicked sheets of paper off her desk with her free hand, sitting down on it, still holding the scalpel in her other hand.
"Come." She said softly, spreading her thighs wide – he approached her, without asking pulling her shoes off her feet, sliding the material of her underwear off her thighs, his movements confident and swift.
He stood in front of her, with a nimble flick of his fingers releasing his swollen, throbbing erection from under his trousers and drew her to him, putting his arm around her waist – she placed her hand on his chest, her lips parted slightly, her gaze hazy and dark, her body trembling in his embrace.
"− don't be brutal − take it slow −" She muttered in a shaky voice, and he only snorted under his breath with a grin, recognising that he had waited so long for this that he could actually enjoy the moment, feeling that he wouldn't last long anyway.
He grasped his manhood in his hand giving it a few sure, quick squeezes and guided its pink, thick head against her entrance, glistening from her wetness in the red light.
They both sighed as he began to push into her, doing so at an agonising pace from which they both closed their eyes, her fleshy insides hot and tight, pulsing all around him, sucking him inside.
"− ah − yes −" She whispered and he licked his lips, forcing her to fit it all in with deep, slow thrust of his fat cock, his large palms digging into the pleasantly soft skin of her plump buttocks as she mewled from exertion.
"− fuck −" She mumbled, obviously surprised by his size and how shocking the sensation was after such a long period of sexual abstinence, his manhood all sticky with her moisture.
She put her arms around his neck as he slid out of her slowly almost all the way, only to sink again into her warm walls with a calm, unhurried motion of his hips, both of them watching as his swollen length spread her wide open.
"− fuckin' knew it − just look at it − such a perfect little pussy −" He purred out delighted with the sensation, never having done it this way before in his life, his cock twitched all over with pleasure deep inside her, making him know he wouldn't last long.
Although he could just take what he wanted, he liked what he felt, the heat and tension wonderfully filling his lower abdomen each time the thrust of his hips forced him inside her warm, pulsing core again.
He pressed his forehead against hers when he heard her first shy moans, running his lips over hers, puffy, moist and soft, not giving her full kisses, speeding up suddenly, their naked bodies smacking against each other with loud, sticky splats.
"− oh God −" She whimpered, stroking his neck and cheeks. She burshed his lips tentatively, looking up at him with dreamy eyes as his cock slammed deep into her delicate body again and again – he grabbed her by the hair with one hand, tilting her head back with a brutal movement of his arm.
"− when you need to fuck, you will come to me − if I catch you touching yourself, you'll suck my cock until you start chokin' on my cum, that's how many times I'm going to come down your throat − got it? −" He exhaled in between sure, deep, aggressive thrusts, his cock rooting into her faster and faster with loud slaps of his naked thighs against her buttocks, barely slipping out of her – he felt her clench hard on him at his words, giving him a wonderful squeeze from which he groaned low.
"− y-yes −" She mumbled, responding to his thrusts by bucking her hips out towards him – he snorted, smirking spitefully, somehow impressed by her devotion, his thighs all sticky from her moisture.
"− that's my girl − fuck, 'm close −" He gasped in delight, pounding into her like mad, the tips of his fingers digging into her hot, firm buttocks.
"− n-no, not inside me! −" She mewled out but he closed her mouth with his, forcing his tongue deep into her throat, muffling her moans, clamping his hands firmly on her ass so she couldn't escape him, cumming with a loud sigh of relief, his warm semen spilling deep inside her.
She cried out in rage and slapped his shoulder, clenching her eyes shut, coming hard on his cock. He felt convulsions run through her whole body, her walls began to clench against him and suck him inside – he kept pounding into her for a while with sloppy, messy thrusts of his hips.
He pushed her closer to him with a brutal gesture, embracing her around the waist, his other hand holding her hair so that her puffy, sweet lips didn't pull away from his, kissing her lazily for a while longer, continuing to rock inside her with the lewd click of their shared moisture.
He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard, looking at her with curiosity and satisfaction, thinking that perhaps they would find common ground after all.
"− see you tomorrow − and no fuckin' touching −"
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thought--bubble · 2 months
Text
Make You Beg
Ettore X Prison Nurse Reader X Will (Salad Days)
Warnings after the cut
Word Count: 2736
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Ettore Masterlist
Will (Salad Days) Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners by @arcielee
Gorgeous Banner inspired by this story made by @vhagar-balerion-meraxes it is so beautiful!
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A/N: Not me writing the filthiest thing I can imagine with two minor characters. This is purely self-indulgent.
Warnings: Ettore is his own warning, mentions of physical violence, blood, Dubcon , biting, scratching, predatory behaviors, hair pulling, mentions of pain, some sub/dom behaviors, degradation, fingering, oral sex male receiving, PinV unprotected, rough sex, deepthroating, crying, humiliation and praising.
"Again?" You sigh as your favorite frequent flyer, Will, shuffles into your exam room with yet another bloody lip and possible broken nose.
"What can I say? I missed ya. " he chuckles as he makes his way to the gurney on the left.
You put your hand up to the guard that brought him as he goes to handcuff him to the gurney.
"That isn't necessary. Will here won't give me any problems" You smile at Will, you have been through this with him many times and have built a friendly rapport. You trust him to behave.
"It isn't you that I'm concerned about" the guard laughs heartily, as another guard walks in with an inmate you haven't seen before.
The inmate has clear injuries to his mouth but would still be lesser priority than Will.
Will rolls his eyes and audibly groans. "This fucking nonce"
The other inmate lunges toward him, the guard grappling him to the floor.
"Cut it out!" The guard yells authoritatively, the inmate on the ground immediately stops struggling, allowing the guard to get him back to his feet.
You shriek as you jump back. "Should we even have them both in here at the same time?"
"They will be fine as long as this one can learn to shut his gob," the guard by Will says as he latches Will's arm to the metal post of the gurney.
You move to the second inmate as he is also latched to his gurney. "Ettore," the guard next to him says. "Watch out with this one he is a....... just watch out"
You look at the two guards with confusion as they move toward the door. "Where are you going?!" Your voice is laced with panic. You have never been left alone with an inmate, let alone two.
"The fight they started devolved. It's all hands on deck. They are hooked tight. You'll be fine. I will come back as soon as possible"
"Surely you are joking?" You whimper slightly as the two guards leave the room, closing the door quietly behind them.
When you turn back around, you see your two patients. Each handcuffed to their gurney. Will looking over at Ettore, hatred etched across his face while Ettore stares directly at you. Tilting his head slightly to the side as his eyes wander up and down your form.
"Right. Ummm, " You nervously wipe your palms on your thighs trying to quell the nausea creeping its way up your throat. "Will seems to have more injuries, so I should tend to him first"
You nervously move toward Will while trying to position your body so that you don't entirely turn your back on Ettore.
"I wouldn't let him hurt ya, ya gotta know tha" Will smiles at you from his place on the gurney, his voice soft and sweet.
"No offense, but you let him hurt you pretty good." You chuckle as you start to dab away the blood on his lower lip with a cotton ball.
"Yeah, well, that's different. Two blokes throwing blows. Not the same thing as an animal like that coming after a lass. " You can hear Ettore grumble from across the room, his handcuffs clacking against the metal bar of the gurney.
"Will," you say warningly "remember, watch your words. I don't want any further trouble with you two."
"You know what he's in here for?" He asks, making your stomach turn. You don't know and don't want to know.
"You're all in here for something, hardly my business, to know what" You finish tending to his lip and start to clean around his eye.
"I robbed a post office. Then beat my best friend half to death over a girl that never even liked me. I'm an idiot. Not an animal. " You stay silent and continue to tend to his wounds. You had always wondered how he found himself in here. He was scrappy, but he was so sweet.
"He is an entirely different beast." He motions toward Ettore, who simply scoffs.
You swallow nervously. Between the comments from the guard, Will's analysis and Ettore's lecherous gaze you had an inkling of what type of "beast" Ettore might be, making the fact that you have to treat him all the more daunting.
"I'm here to heal, not judge. Now sit back. " You push Will back against The gurney by the shoulder so you can inspect his nose further.
"You have such a handsome face. You really should stop getting punched in it. " You move to set his nose, and he grunts.
"Think I'm handsome, do ya? He wiggles his eyebrows at you and smirks.
You blush and pat his shoulder. "Nose should heal up fine."
You turn and walk towards Ettore, your stomach dropping.
"Hello Ettore, let's take a look at that mouth ok?" You take his chin in your hand and angle his face upward and can't help but notice the goosebumps that ripple across his skin at your touch.
Swallowing deeply, you gently ease his mouth open with your thumb and use your little flashlight to peer inside. "Doesn't look like any teeth were knocked loose or anything like that so you should be fine."
You move to leave his bedside, but his hand shoots up and holds your wrist tightly. "Ettore....." You attempt to sound intimidating so you could assert your authority over him.
"Oi!, let her go!" Will yells from the other side of the room, his cuffs jangling wildly against the metal bar of his gurney.
Ettore pulls you down roughly toward his face and sniffs into your hair with deep, long controlled breaths.
You stay very still, your mind telling you to run but unable to respond physically. Frozen in place while Ettore continued to sniff you.
He clamps his hand tighter still on your wrist as he grips the hand cuff with his other hand pulling tightly until the gurney bar snaps out of place.
Your breath hastens as you hear the light jingle of him sliding the handcuff down and off the bar before bringing his newly freed hand to the back of your head gripping your hair tight and pulling your head back.
You can feel the harsh thump of your heart beating in your chest as he drags his nose down the length of your neck, breathing in deeply. You can still faintly hear the sounds of Will struggling against his confinement on the other side of the room as Ettore begins to speak quietly.
"Do I excite you?" He asks as he nips at your neck. You feel a burning heat building in your core. You know you shouldn't. This is a bad man. A man that you should not be anywhere near. Yet you gently nod your head as he smirks at you.
"Hey! Let her alone!" Will desperately attempts to free himself to no avail. The desperation evident in his tone.
Ettore bites into your neck harshly, and you can't help but squeak. "Mmmm," he grumbles into your neck. Shivers of pleasure and fear make their way down your throat and down the length of your spine. He gently licks at the marks he left, the stinging sensation further adding to the heat building in your core.
Will's struggling is echoing throughout the room, and his desperate pleas pull at your heartstrings, seemingly breaking the spell Ettore has cast upon you. You pull yourself away from Ettore and stumble backward a few steps.
Your brain telling you to put as much distance between him and you as possible, your body begging you to return to him.
Ettore looks at you with curiosity and then smirks, swinging his legs over the side of the gurney.
You turn and walk back to Will quickly. "You alright?" He reaches out and gently touches your cheek before turning his head towards Ettore, who is now stalking over to you.
"Let her alone!" Will wraps his free arm around you, clutching you toward his chest. His heart beating loudly against his rib cage. The feeling comforting.
Ettore wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you towards him while Will swings at him wildly with his free arm.
"I swear I'll kill ya!" He yells, desperately pulling against his restrained wrist.
"She don't want that..... do ya?" Ettore strokes his hand down the side of your body, lightly grazing over every curve and dip, until he reaches the waistband of your scrubs and quickly brings his hand to your heat.
Pleasure shoots straight through your body all the way down to a pleasant tingle in your toes at the touch.
"No," you just barely whisper, leaning your head back against Ettore's shoulder.
Will's mouth drops open in shock. "What?"
He watches as Ettore rubs at your pearl in circles, your head leaning back against his shoulder, your muffled whimpers growing in volume.
A satisfied smirk crosses Ettore's face as he continues pleasuring you while his gaze is fixed on Will.
"Want more?" He growls in your ear, his never-ending staring contest with Will still raging on.
"Yes," you moan more than whisper desperate for more of the delicious friction his hand was providing. Ettore bends you over the gurney, your chest pushed down into a stunned Will's lap. He makes quick work of your scrubs and panties, bringing his hand to the back of your head and yanking you up by the hair.
"Look at him," Ettore growls as he shoves a finger into your cunt, pumping it furiously. "Make him beg for some"
You lift your eyes to meet Will's while wanton moans escape your lips.
Will brings his hand down to your face and gently strokes your cheek with his fingertips. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. The praise going straight to your heat.
Ettore removes his fingers from you and pulls his own pants down to his mid thighs stroking himself a few times before roughly grasping your hips and shoving his cock inside you all the way to the hilt.
You scream at the sudden intrusion, the pain mixing with pleasure as you feel yourself split open on his girthy length.
"Shhh shhh, you're ok," Will gently coos as Ettore starts to pound into you furiously. Dragging his free hand down your back, his fingernails digging into the skin like an animal marking its territory.
You emit a sound somewhere between a painful screech and a moan while Will takes your face in his hand. Like you were made of glass, his tender touch mixing with the raw animalistic touch of Ettore, causing a swirling of pleasure to radiate up through your stomach.
Will shifts on the gurney, adjusting himself, trying to hide his growing bulge as he watches Ettore take you, all the while providing you with tender words and caresses.
Your mouth hangs open as Ettore roughly drags his cock against your walls battering your insides with reckless abandon. Your eyes connected to Will's as he wipes the tears that stream down your face.
Ettore reaches up and once again grips your hair, yanking your head back.
"You're a little fucking whore aren't ya?" His breathing is labored, each of his thrusts somehow seeming harsher than the last.
"Yes, yes," you whimper your mind blank and fully submissive.
"Then act like one," he grunts as he shoves your head down harshly, your face pushed up against the erection hidden within Will's trousers.
Will looks at Ettore with anger lacing his face.
"You don't have to do anything for me. Don't worry about me. " he pushes Ettore's hand away from the back of your head and caresses the recently abused area with a gentle touch.
"I ... I want to" your voice bounces as Ettore continues to slam into you from behind the skin on your ass going numb from the repeated skin to skin smacking.
"Uhh..." Will's voice is unsteady as you bring your hand up to his bulge, gripping his length over his trousers. He closes his eyes and groans at the pressure, shocks of electricity traveling up his spine.
You pull at the trousers and Will lifts himself up for a moment allowing you to get them down enough to free his cock.
"Only if this is what you want" He says breathlessly as he grips his length tightly the angry red tip leaking pre cum.
"Fuck!" Ettore growls loudly from behind you digging his fingernails into your skin. "Do it you little fucking whore."
At Ettore's demand you take the tip of Will's cock into your mouth swirling your tongue around the tip moaning as you taste the pre cum that has begun to collect there. "Shitttt," Will moans as he pushes your hair out of your face, giving him a better view of you with his cock in your mouth.
Ettore's thrusts grow harder forcing Will's cock further into your mouth as he begins to involuntarily buck his hips. "You're so fucking pretty, so pretty" Will moans stroking the back of your head gently as Ettore's cock continues to roughly spear your cunt and Will's cock batters the back of your throat being pushed further and further until you struggle for oxygen.
Ettore grabs at your ass digging his fingers into the skin before bringing his hand around your hip and rubbing furiously at your pearl.
"Cum you dumb slut. I want to feel you clench around my cock as I fill you up" he snarls like an animal in heat leaning down and biting into the soft skin of your back.
you whimper at the demand and the pain, feeling your climax creep up closer and closer, unable to do anything but succumb to his wishes.
"Let go beautiful," Will whispers pleasure etched across his strong features, his thrusts into your eager mouth growing sloppier by the second.
With his gentle words and Ettore's rough touch, your orgasm wracks your entire frame. You moan loudly in pleasure, eyes rolling back, and legs nearly buckling beneath you.
You hear a loud grunt from behind you as Ettore empties himself into you, his fingernails again digging into the plush flesh of your hips.
Will thrusts into your mouth twice more before he whimpers releasing a salty stream of cum down your throat before collapsing back on the gurney.
Ettore pulls himself from your quivering walls and pulls up his trousers quickly, moving back to his gurney and plopping himself down with a satisfied huff.
Will slowly pulls his softening cock from your mouth pulling your face up towards him and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"You alright?" He asks as he rubs your back soothingly.
You're too winded to speak and can only absent-mindedly nod towards him. He fixed his trousers before leaning over and helping you pull your own bottoms up.
"C'mere," he coos, pulling you onto the gurney with him cuddling you with his free arm.
"You did so good. So, so good, baby. " he kisses your shoulder and gently rubs your hip where Ettore had dug into your flesh.
You jump from the gurney quickly as you hear the deep voices of the guards nearing the door. Running over to Ettore and sliding his cuff back onto the metal bar of the gurney and popping it in place, hoping they wouldn't notice that it is broken.
You fix your hair as quick as you can and wipe the tears out from under your eyes as the door swings open.
"Everything go alright in here?" one of the guards asks, hardly looking at you before moving over to Ettore and unlocking his cuff.
"Yes," you clear your throat, trying to make sure to hide any hint of your dazed and satisfied condition.
"They are both fine and cleared to go back to their cells." You wave your hand towards the door dismissively. Your ultimate goal is to get all of these men out of your exam room immediately.
Ettore is removed first. He says nothing just drags his eyes up and down your frame once more before being dragged out the door.
Will, on the other hand, smiles toward you as he is led out behind him.
"Next time I'm coming alone!" He yells just as the door closes.
You sit down in your chair winded, confused and aching.
"Next time?"
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169 notes · View notes
asumofwords · 8 months
Text
Treat - Ettore x Reader
Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Somnophillia, rape, non-con, slight dub-con, masturbation, creepiness, sedation, assault, drugs, induced vomiting, blood, spitting, cum play, violence, degradation.
Pairings: Dark!Ettore x Reader  (It’s Ettore… come on)
Synopsis: The cold of space had nothing on the cool glare of Ettore, another inmate on the spacecraft you were sentenced to life on. At the mercy of the Doctor onboard, Dibs, all are a part of fertility experiments and used as test subjects. Said Doctor has increased your sedation dosage as part of the trials, what will happen when suspicions arise for the unusual things happening to your body?
Word Count: 6.1k
Notes: @targaryenrealnessdarling and @ewanmitchellcrumbs inspired this hedonistic fucking abomination by creating an obsession with a man I shouldn’t even like. This is DD:DNE territory, so you have been warned. I blame you both for making me so fucking feral for this man. Enjoy ;) <3
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It was cold.
It’s not supposed to be cold, but it was. 
There was no way to keep out the chill of outer space. No way to keep the sub zero chill outside from seeping into metal ship you drifted in. No way to keep the unnatural of being in space away from your bones.
Your senses. 
There was heating, and it was warm enough inside for you to wear shorts and a shirt, some mandated clothing given to you, but even then, the artificial warmth couldn’t keep the chill from seeping into the walls or floors.
Or perhaps it was the chill of being watched. 
But you were always being watched, prisoner and a body for human experimental trials, or ‘guinea pigs’ as Boyse says, another inmate who hates being there just as much as you. She was sweet enough, but you kept her, like everyone else, at an arms length. 
Being put on the floating jail in space was a combination of a shit routine and being stuck with other not so great people. When you first arrived, you had kept to yourself, quiet, head down, methodical. You didn’t want trouble, you just wanted peace. And anything was better than the Super Max they had you in before back on Earth. 
So you were good.
Took your meds when told, took showers when commanded, ate and slept on the clock like a well trained pet. And sometimes, if you were feeling particularly inclined, which was more often than not, you found yourself in The Box. A crude space for you to go in and get out your ‘urges’.
'Fraternising' with the others was a big no no, but really, what were they going to do? Shoot you out the hull? You doubted it, and if you were honest, you didn’t care much either way.
You were going to die on this ship, lost in the same fucking routine for the rest of your days if you didn’t all go absolutely bat shit insane and cannibalise each other, which was a real fear Monte had whispered to you once.
Not much of a talker that one. 
But Ettore was worse. 
He barely even spoke a word. He just watched. 
Listened. 
Like he was sizing everyone up, writing invisible notes in his mind of who was who, and what was what. As though he was collecting intel from everyone like a secret government plant, or as though he was waiting to sell secrets, not that there really were any, all of you were there for crimes that warranted a life sentence. 
Death sentence in your case. 
And the way Ettore watched you, watched Boyse, or any of the other women on board, gave you an inkling as to what he may have done to deserve being locked up with the rest of you. 
But it didn’t stop you from being intrigued, nor casting an extra glance here or there to watch him. Pine over him even, bent over, shirtless scrubbing the floor, but what else were you to do? You hadn't been touched in months, maybe years, you couldn't tell how long it had been with no natural rise or set of the sun, and he wasn't bad on the eyes. Leaning against the wall of the hull, waiting for whoever it was in The Box to finish.
Because thats where he always was. 
The Box. 
You would say it bordered on slightly neurotic. Obsessive. Insatiable.
And it was the moments before he went in that really rivalled the chill of space.
His pale blue eyes would always find you.
Always.
And although it sent shivers down your spine in fear and disgust, it also settled a warmth within you too. 
It was hard. 
Not being able to touch anyone. 
Being surrounded by people, all day, all night, and not once having a chance to feel them. Hold them. Be with them. You had thought that perhaps Dibs would have at least let same sex interactions slide because there was no possible way for conception, but it was as if the bitch was edging herself. Or had some sick fetish of having everyone in a fucking cube strung out to shit in space. 
Not the smartest of moves to whoever gave this experiment the go ahead, but you had to give them props for their misplaced faith.
You padded down the hall, making your way to the Doctors office, ready to collect your meds; sleeping pills which knocked you flat on your ass about half an hour after ingesting them, and then go to bed.
You saw the door up ahead and sighed, it was not that you didn’t want to sleep, you just hated the idea of constantly being pumped with this shit.
Surely it wasn’t good for your body?
But then again, being in space and stuck where you were with no choice to go outside in fresh air, noting that there wasn’t any air outside the craft, wasn’t good for you either. 
Unnatural.
But it was all unnatural.
And in some ways, better than death row.
Sometimes.
Just as you moved to round the door, Ettore’s large body ducked beneath the frame, strolling right past you. His eyes flicked over your body quickly, predatorily, lashes blinking softly as he brushed past you and went on his way back to his cell. 
There was that cold again. 
It surrounded him like a wraith.
You slid into the room, Dibs barely sparing you a glance as you stood behind her, her long fingers fucking about on the table as she took her time to give you the meds you got from her at the same time, every fucking day. You thought that perhaps she may be a little more organised since all she did was sit around on her ass and be a prat.
But she wasn’t, and you waited, standing beside her as she swivelled in her stupid little chair to face you.
You had always had a pretty good read on people. Ever since you were young, you could spot the bad ones from the good, but it never really kept you away from the bad. Your ex's more bad than they were good.
It excited you, if you were going to be honest.
The rush of adrenaline, feeling of fear as your fight or flight would kick in when you looked at someone and just knew they had a more sinister part of them simmering beneath the surface.
And the moment you had spotted Ettore on the ship, being strapped in beside him, the alarm bells had rung in your head, blaring red DANGER behind your eyes. And you had felt the same fluttering in your chest as you felt his eyes on you the whole time.
But Dibs?
She was different.
There was something more malevolent than what meets the eye. Something that hid behind her dark gaze. And as you stood inside the make shift infirmary, doctors notes spread out on her table, shut curtains behind you, you felt as though perhaps you would have been safer stuck inside The Box with Ettore.
Dibs held out a small plastic cup to you, two pills inside.
Usually, it held one.
Your brows furrowed as you looked up at her.
"Changed dosage.” Was the only thing she offered you.
“Why?”
The Doctor blinked up at you with no answer, silence falling over you. You asked again, and were met with the same blank stare. And so you took the cup begrudgingly, snatching it from her hand and throwing the two little pills into the back of your mouth to dry swallow them. You could feel them catch on the back of your throat, sitting heavily like a lump, and so you swallowed once more to get them down. 
Dibs gave you a sterile smile, and turned away back to her notes, scribbling. 
You stomped away, walking back down the corridor to go to your cell, feeling the acidic, briny feeling on the back of your tongue.
No matter how many nights you had swallowed those things, it always made a bad taste settle in the back of your mouth, and a hollowness in your stomach.
When you had first arrived on the ship, you struggled to fall to sleep knowing that you were drifting in space, and couldn't get off even if you wanted, with the low hum of the ship in a constant drone keeping you alert, and so Dibs had given you sedatives to help you drift off.
There was already sedatives in the water Dibs gave you all, but the other girls in your cell followed suit soon enough, asking for the little pill so that they could sleep undisturbed in the night.
The closer you go to your room, the more your mind felt clouded, as though a thick layer of fog had crossed it, obscuring your thoughts and making each one feel as though they had been dipped inside a vat of molasses.
Even your limbs felt heavy, and so you hurried your uneven pace to your cell block, stumbling against a wall where you flopped down onto the bed, too exhausted to pull yourself beneath the sheets as the room around you spun. 
You could feel and hear the others making their way to their bunks after you, but your eyelids grew heavy, and soon enough, you were out like a light. As though a switch had been flicked by the manicured nails of Dibs.
There were no dreams to be had, not even an awareness of sleep, just a deep, black abyss that swallowed you whole and completely, with neither complaint nor fight from your limbs. 
When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was how tired you still were, as though the medication still lingered in your periphery like dark little tendrils that rubbed smooth and soothing hands upon your mind, trying to lure you back.
But the day had to move on, and you were unstrapped from your bed, limbs feeling entirely too heavy to lift as you hauled yourself out. You didn't understand the need for the restraints, especially since you would be sedated and unable to move anyway, but you supposed they were there to keep you put in case you did.
Behavioural issues and that.
Who knows what the others had done to warrant a death row sentence. Yours certainly wasn't a light one.
The moment your feet hit the ground, your stomach lurched. Pain rippling up through your stomach. 
What the hell?
You rubbed your face blearily and sighed, chalking it up to your period making an appearance early this month, or perhaps Dibs' experiments had finally stuck, or were melting your insides by the feel of it.
Dibs was going to have a field day with you, you knew it. You would have your legs pried open by stirrups and have her shove a million and one swabs inside of you like she did every month.
Like clockwork.
Well, cycle really.
You hated it.
Another thing to add to the misery of it all; being prodded by a stone faced bitch who only showed kindness to the men on board. Couldn't even get off to the way she shoved those cotton swabs or fingers inside you, fishing around as if she was going through a pocket for spare change.
Except this pain was sharp, and stung, but was dulled by whatever lingering sleeping pill was dragging your body down. You would have to tell the eager Doctor to be more gentle about turkey basting you with whoever's cum she picked from her cups.
Boyse had told you once she could have sworn she saw Dibs dipping her fingers into the 'donation' cups to taste test each one. You had laughed so hard you cried, and Monte had eyed you from across the canteen.
You yawned and stretched, ignoring the ache and hit the showers with the others, beginning your day of chores.
Today you were cleaning, something you actually didn’t mind. It was methodical, time consuming, and there was a clear outcome at the end that you enjoyed. 
Cloth and cleaner in hand, you polished handles and doors and any surface that you could reach, wiping down the metal and other surfaces to sterilise them.
Boyse was on floor duty that day, and so she cleaned alongside you quietly, the occasional whisper or conversation had as you moved. But you truly struggled to hold one, your mind still muddled from the lurch of the changed dose.
You would need to speak about lowering said dosage back to normal with Dibs. This was like trying to think and exist when shitfaced at the pub.
God you missed the pub.
It was the little things you missed most. Things that you had taken for granted, like wind, or rain, or bugs. You missed the itch of being bitten. How fucked was that? Missing mosquitoes? Dibs needed to check your head rather than your fertility.
And so the day ended, and every surface in one wing of the ship was spotless thanks to yours and Boyse’s work. You ate alongside the others quietly and couldn’t help but feel that chill again, covering you in an icy blanket.
Lifting your head, you spotted Ettore watching you. 
Still.
Like those nature documentaries you used to watch, when the lions would be hidden in the tall grass, still as a rock, watching and waiting to pounce on the galloping gazelle.
Your mouth felt dry, and the hunger you had felt left, pain winding its way inside of you as you stood slowly, careful to not set anyone off, especially him, and moved to clear your plate to go to Dr. Dibs.
You were more eager to get away from Ettore’s piercing gaze than anything, feeling like a game of cat and mouse, waiting to turn your head and see him chasing after you down the halls. It set your skin alight.
But he didn't.
Your journey to speak to the doctor about your dosage was a waste. Dibs didn’t budge, and in your hand ,the small pill tub was dropped with two inside.
You watched her intently, mouth parted to argue.
“You done yet?” Ettore’s voice swallowed the artificial air in the room. 
Your head snapped to the door, watching as he slowly walked in, like a predator, looking at you intently. You blinked up at him, his lean form towering over you in the sterile cream room. You could smell the soft scent of generic soap you all used and the musky undertones of him beneath.
“I want my treat.” He spoke again, hand held out to Dibs, who placed a pill in his palm, no cup holding it. Simply placed into his palm with her fingers, as though there was an element of familiarity between the two. 
The cold of his gaze contrasted the warmth of his body as it loomed over you.
Dibs spun on her chair to look at you through her lashes, eyes dropping pointedly to the pills still un-swallowed in your cup, “Take them.”
You threw the pills into the back of your throat, locking eyes with Ettore as you dry swallowed them, holding back the grimace as they slid down the back of your throat roughly. Ettore followed, smacking his palm over his mouth as he swallowed his own, then turning his head to open his mouth in show to Dibs, who gave him a soft smile. 
“Smashing. Thank you.” He spoke down to her, accent thick on his tongue. His eyes flicked over you once more before he sauntered out the room.
Your feet felt stuck on the linoleum flooring until Dibs cleared her throat at you, “Go back to your cell.”
Taking her command, you left, winding down the corridor, falling onto your bed again and succumbing to the heavy sleep. 
This went on for days, the same dosage, the same medicated sedation, and the same groggy rising with a continued ache that never seemed to leave your core. You waited for the blood to come, but there was only the occasional bit of spotting. 
Perhaps a lighter cycle this month.
It wasn’t until that morning, when you went to the showers did you notice something was not right. Something that justified the inkling in the back of your mind that something was afoot with the pain that wracked your body.
That the pain wasn’t due to your monthly cycle, and something far more sinister instead.
Washing down with soap, the others in their cubicles beside you, your eyes were drawn to colour that should not be on the skin. Dark blotches of purples and blue, streaked with pinks across your hips and inner thighs. Your fingers pressed into them, hissing as pain shot up through you. But the pain wasn’t what made you blanch. It was the shape of them. And how your fingers fit perfectly within the large blooms of colour. 
Fingerprints. 
More specifically, finger marks, littered across your body. 
Your heart raced in your chest as you looked at them, horror and sickness skyrocketing inside of you. Bile rose in your throat, and the urge to scrub your skin raw became an immediate compulsion, your nails scratching at the bruises roughly. 
Dressing rapidly, you raced to the Doctors office, shoes not even on as your feet slapped on the floor loudly as you made your way down. But of course, whatever high power above controlled the fate that surrounded you had other plans for you, and your body collided with a body of steel. 
You neck craned up, meeting the icy glare of Ettore.
“Watch it.” He sneered down at you, hands at his sides in fists.
You didn’t know what to do but blink at him, and it was all you did, looking up at the man who set your skin alight, a blush creeping along your cheeks and fear shimmering down your spine.
“You gonna move?” He asked again, lips pulled into a sharp frown.
You took a step back, then another, and another, Ettore’s eyes grazing over your body, settling on your chest as it heaved, wet patches of your shirt sticking to your skin.
You swallowed thickly.
“Quiet one, huh.” Ettore mused, eyes becoming half hooded as he watched you, “They always scream the loudest.”
You sneered, watching as Ettore walked towards you, leaning his head down just a bit as he whispered to you, “I’ll be in The Box.” Before he was on his way, body swaying with his walk. 
Your heart leaped through your chest as you watched him.
-
“Somethings wrong.” You sat on the doctors bed, legs in stirrups as Dibs looked at you in annoyance, clinical eyes roving your body as you pulled your shorts high on your hips to display the bruises on your thighs. 
Dibs didn’t even blink at them, just glanced at them shortly before writing in her notes.
“Something is-“
“-Vitamin D deficiency, Iron deficiency.”
“Fuck you. It looks li-“
“Take these.” 
Her hand was held out to you, a small circular brown pill and an oblong pink one sat inside a medical cup. You blinked at her hand as she held them out to you.
“I don’t fucking-“
“-Take them. Or you will be marked as refusing treatment.”
Snatching the cup from her palm, your own nails scratching her hand, you threw them back into your mouth, staring at her angrily as you swallowed them.
“Good girl.” Dr. Dibs spun in her chair away from you and back to her desk, already looking through her notes in dismissal. 
You swung your legs out of the stirrups and sat on the edge of the bed looking at her, staring daggers into the back of her head. 
It could be so easy. 
Who would know it was you?
You could just-
“Are you refusing to leave now too? Very naughty of you. Monte will have to come deal with this behaviour, little birdy.” Came her slimy voice.
"Fuck you."
Grunting, you hopped off the bed and stormed out the room, muttering beneath your breath in agitation and anger as it poured out of you. 
"Fucking bitch."
Something was wrong, and you knew it. 
Fucking useless cunt.
You went back to your chores, but found that you could scarcely concentrate with the anger that seemed to mount within.
You needed a release, and fast. 
The Box was made for just such thing, and so you dropped the clippers in your palm in the garden and made your way to your destination. The anticipation of going into The Box made way for excitement over the anger, but all in all, it still rippled through you in waves.
All you needed was a good and rough fuck.
Get the anger out.
Your ex was always a good source of inspiration when inside The Box. The way his hips would snap into yours brutally, his teeth in your flesh, hands slapping, pinching.
Choking.
The Box would calm you down.
Your legs carried you down the ladder before you jumped down the last few impatiently, the light in this part of the ship far darker than the rest. You walked forward, looking at the closed door before feeling ice wash over you.
Who else would be waiting outside of it but Ettore.
His cool eyes flicked to yours as your steps slowed, looking to him and then the closed door. His lips pursed together into a pout and one corner pulled down into a smirk. 
Shit eating bastard.
He leant back against the steel wall of the hull, head turned to look down at you as you leant beside him. Too frustrated to turn back, and not willing to let him scare you out of a reprieve that you needed. 
“Gonna be waiting a while.” Ettore hummed, suggestive grin on his lips before he swiped a tongue against the front of his teeth noisily.
You looked him up and down, no mood for his attitude or creeping glares, “You look like it’d be quick.” You purred.
Ettore’s nostrils flared and his lips pulled down into a sneer, he pushed off of the wall, looking down at you as he adjusted his jaw, the muscles clenching tightly, blue eyes narrowed. 
Your head connected with the metal behind you as he jerked you back into it roughly, forearm pressed against the top of your chest. Pain bloomed in the back of your skull, but that didn’t stop the small mewl that escaped from your lips.
Ettore’s eyes widened before they narrowed, face looming in closer to you as he watched your chest rise and fall rapidly, heat blooming in your stomach. 
The door to The Box opened and Boyse stepped out, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. 
Ettore stepped back dropping his arm to his side as he spun around and entered, facing you as the doors began to close, his eyes roaming down your body slowly as he sucked his tongue. 
A shiver rolled through you.
Boyse watched you carefully, “You right?”
You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beat like a drum in your chest, “Yea, I’m alright. Asshole.”
Boyse nodded and left, and you waited for your turn, waiting for the door to open again, but it didn’t. 
The moments flew by and it almost felt as if he was taking his time because of your comment. Punishing you.
Proving a point.
Fucking cunt. 
You huffed and pushed away from the wall, making your way back to work again, knowing that dinner would be soon, and then the deep and dreamless sleep once more. 
Dinner was quick, and in no time you were walking down to collect your sedatives from the Doctor who made your skin crawl almost as badly as Ettore. Your mood had not improved, and you would say that the want that simmered inside of you made it even worse now that it had gone unattended.
When you entered the infirmary, Ettore was already there, talking quietly with Dibs who was seated, craning her neck up to look at him with a soft smile on her lips.
Fucking pick-me.
Upon hearing your arrival, both turned to face you, and Ettore instinctually held out his hand, a pill placed in its palm, before it put it in his mouth, his eyes on you, narrowed and almost angry. But when he looked down at the doctor, a soft smirk wound its way on his lips and he whispered a small ‘thank you’ to her, brushing past you with a sniff on his way out.
You held out your palm in the same manner he had, eyes still on the door Ettore had walked out of, feeling the plastic of the small cup being placed in the centre. You looked down at it.
Two sedatives.
"You're a fucking bitch, you know that?" You grumbled, and tilted your head back, letting the two pills roll onto your tongue, Dibs eyes watching. 
But there was something about it. 
Something about her watching you like that, that made you shiver. 
“Show me.” She commanded and you swallowed both dryly, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue obscenely at her so that she could get a closer look.
The Doctor nodded and turned away, back to her notes. 
But fear scrambled in your throat.
You all but raced out of the office, making your way straight to the toilet, dropping to your knees in front of it as your instincts took over, shoving two fingers down your throat. You gagged quietly in the space, daring to not draw attention to what you were doing. 
You did it again, and the bile and bitter taste of stomach acid flooded your tongue. You bent over the rim gasping, looking down into the water to see if the pills were in the bowl with your dinner. 
You spotted one and collapsed down onto the floor feeling some sort of relief, though your stomach still turned, and bile coated your tongue. You sat there for a moment, feeling the cool of the bathroom floor on your thighs and hands before standing.
You couldn’t get caught. 
You flushed the toilet and brushed your teeth carefully, cupping water into your mouth to rinse the acidic taste that settled behind your teeth. And yet still, you were still wrought with nerves.
As you lay in your bed, bottom bunk opposite to Boyse, you stared up at the top one, the restraints strapping you down by your arms as the beginnings of sedated fatigue gnawed at your vision. 
So you had only gotten one pill out. 
No matter.
Better than both.
At least it calmed your heart, and you turned your head to look at Boyse who was already out like a light, the soft curve of her nose shadowed in the dim of the room.
You wondered what she was here for often, but never had the courage or want to learn. 
Some things are better left unsaid.
You tried to resist it, tried to fight the way your eyelashes sagged and your limbs fell heavier by the second, but in no time at all, you were sucked into the usual dreamless state that you had been in for god knows how long you had been on that goddamn ship.
-
It’s dark. 
So dark.
And warm. 
Soft pressing in the back of your mind, drawing you just below the surface of consciousness. 
Why was it so warm?
There was pressure. 
Pressure on top of you. 
Pressure inside of you.
A thing.
Or two.
Maybe three.
What?
The pressure turned to a dull ache. 
A pain.
Pleasure?
Why was it so warm?
It curled in your gut and you groaned, mind foggy, limbs of stone as you felt the weight of your body come back to you. Come back to the room. 
The bed.
Soft sheets.
Grunts.
Weight.
Warm. 
Pain in your thighs. Pain between them. Weight on top of you. 
Breaths in your ear that are not your own. 
Grunts.
Moans.
Hisses.
Eyelids feeling like lead as they fluttered, the sound around you louder, rustling, wet, clapping, breathing. 
The room spun on its axis, mind reeling as you were pulled from the depths of your sedated sleep, your body reacting to whatever was being done to it. 
It was hard.
Hard to stay awake.
You drifted again, bobbing beneath the surface only to rise back up again, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. Blurred vision making it hard to focus.
Heavy mind making it hard to comprehend.
Hard to see.
“Whas-“ You slurred, head being rocked backwards by movements, making the nausea that rose within stronger, barreling through you with a spearing sensation.
A loud grunt in your ear as the jolting of your body picked up. Something moving inside of you.
Atop you.
You could see movement above you, hair, a body.
A face.
Ettore.
You blinked, his sharp jawline coming into focus, comprehension wading through the thick fog of your mind as you continued to look up at him, mind reeling to figure out what was going on.
Eyes half lidded, lips pulled down into a sneer, Ettore rutted into you from above. 
“Wha-“
“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, hand slapping over your lips as he fucked into you. 
Your eyes widened, pain blooming through you, strength dulled, senses foggy, but knowing. 
Knowing. 
You knew now.
Ettore’s length fucked into you roughly, the tip beating against your cervix painfully. The stretch stung as he drilled into you, splitting you apart on his cock. Each thrust was just as brutal as the other, the sound of his hips clapping against yours loud in the cell of the others sedated, still in their dreams.
Was this a dream?
It felt too real. 
You writhed beneath him sluggishly, trying to get out of his grip, breathing heavily through your nose as his hand stayed pressed against your mouth, small whimpers and grunts spilling into his palm as his cock bullied your walls repeatedly.
Ettore watched your face, lips pulling up into a smile as he gave a particularly harsh thrust, your eyes scrunching shut in pain as you yelped, sensing you had come fully to the surface of consciousness to feel the truth of his assault.
Pain pinged up you, your walls clamping down on him as your hips tried to angle away from him, restraints cutting into the skin of your wrists, legs too heavy to lift. Tugging at them for dear life as he watched you struggle from below. He laughed, deep in his chest before a groan fell from his swollen lips, eyes closing in pleasure with his mouth hung open.
You tried to scream beneath him palm, to try and wake the others, to call for help, for anything. But the hand at your mouth did not budge, and so the muffled sound of your cries fell on sedated ears. Tears prickled in your eyes from the pain as you tried to shake your head away from him, mouth opening. 
You bit down on his palm.
Hard.
Ettore cursed, flinching as he pulled his hand away from your face, fist reeling back before it connected painfully into the side of your mouth.
You could taste blood. Coppery on your tongue, and you didn’t know if it was his or yours. Probably a mixture of the two. But your bite did not deter him, and his thrusts only became crueler, your body jolting beneath him as you felt wet beneath your hips. 
How long had he been doing this?
How many times had he done this?
But the wet was not just from the man above you. 
It also came from you.
Small sparks of pleasure wound its way up through your gut as he rutted into you in fervent, animalistic thrusts. Each one a sharp grunt or hiss falling from his lips. Each one, his tip bullying the soft and sponge spot within you. Each thrust winding the coil within tighter and tighter.
Ettore slapped your cheek, a small cry falling from your lips as you looked up at him, tears running down your cheeks as you sobbed quietly. 
From the pain. 
From the shock.
From the pleasure.
“Fuck you’re tight.” He growled, “Fucking dirty bitch.”
Another sob, mouth opened to cry out. 
His lips pursed, and warmth sprayed across your face, the wet of his spit landing across cheeks and lips, hand coming to grab your jaw painfully as he squeezed, the joints protesting with pops as he continued, no doubt bruises to be seen in the morning. 
Your walls fluttered around him, each snap of his hips grazing your swollen clit sending euphoria racing up your spine.
It was all too much. 
“Look at you.” He sneered at you meanly, “Gonna cum on my cock aren’t you? Feel you tightening up. Fuck. So fucking disgusting. Asking for it. Always looking at me with those fucking eyes. Take it.”
It was a peel of words that continued to fall from his lips, his hips stuttering as his pace faltered. 
He was near his end, and you were too. 
With two hands, he wrapped them around your neck, leaning his weight down on it as he fucked into you, black spots blooming in your vision as he cut off both air and blood supply. You wheezed beneath him, thrashing against the restraints, hands in fists as they rubbed the skin raw.
You felt light, airy as you looked up at him, the lead of your limbs lifting with the lack of oxygen, the angle he fucked you in having changed, and each rut of his hips jabbed against your G-spot violently.
“Take it, you fucking cunt.” He growled, your eyes fluttering shut as you began to feel weightless, beginning to drift back to your sleep. A nice sleep. Comfortable one. Soft and warm and-
You came violently, a silent cry ripped from your throat, eyes shooting open as you looked up at the man who bit his bottom lip roughly, eyebrows knotted together as he fucked you through it. 
The hands left your throat, gasp sucked into your lungs as you writhed beneath him, his thrusts pulling painful pleasure from you as his hips stuttered, one hand clawing at your hip, the other tugging your head back by your hair, exposing your neck to him. 
Ettore came with a grunt, head dipping down to bite into the sensitive skin in the crux of your shoulder, teeth piercing the skin as you whimpered below him.
Hot ropes of his cum filled your walls, his thrusts stilling as you felt him throb within you, teeth still in your neck that he lapped at with his tongue, breathing hotly through his nose against the skin.
Another tear fell down your cheek as you lay beneath him, staring up at the cool, darkened grey of the ceiling. Pain and pleasure swirling around each other hotly in your core and gut, walls still fluttering around him from your own release. 
You swallowed dryly, throat hoarse from where he choked you and wriggled beneath him, stirring his rest as he grunted into your neck, finally releasing the skin from his teeth. Small incisions and blooming bruise beginning to take its spot there, a dribble of blood leaking from where a crooked tooth pinched flesh between another.
He huffed above you as the world spun, slowly pulling out of you. You whimpered and half whined, feeling sensitive. Stinging pain and pleasure winding its way around your entrance.
Too much.
Ettore sat back on his haunches, cock softening in front of him as he looked down at you, fully naked. Your eyes roamed his body, muscular and lean all in one, watching you with lust filled eyes and hatred. 
Another tear dripped down your cheek as his eyes roamed down your body, to the torn shorts he had ripped to the side, watching as his spend leaked out of you. His hand shot out, scooping fingers through your folds as you hissed, playing with his cum and smearing it into your folds and along your thighs. 
Your heart pounded in your chest, nausea turning painfully in your stomach as he moved to loom over you, looking down at your tear streaked cheeks and the blood on your split lip, bits of his saliva dried on your face from where he had spat on you.
His lips pulled into a smirk, sticky fingers coming to smear themselves on your cheek as he pulled your shorts back into place, adjusting you roughly beneath him.
“Wasn’t too quick for you I hope.” He mocked, giving your face a rough tap before he stood, pulling on his pants and shirt as he looked down at you, chest heaving as you cried quietly, adrenaline pumping through you.
His eyebrows lifted on his face, grinning once he was dressed, grabbing your face in his hand and shaking it as he cooed at you.
“Good girl.” Another tap.
He left without another word, leaving you strapped to your bed, body aching and bruised as his cum leaked out of you, pooling wetly into the crotch of your shorts. You could still feel him inside you, thrusting atop you, his breath fanned in your ears. 
You sucked in a steeling breath, shaking in the restraints, skin raw and bleeding in some places where you tugged too hard, pulled too violently as you shook beneath him, pleasure exploding within. 
You didn't drift back to sleep, no matter how hard you tried, the sedative had worn off and adrenaline kept you alert. 
You simply laid in your bunk, in your cell, surrounded by people who were none the wiser to your attack, sleeping soundly in their own restrained cots as your eyes stayed to the doorway, waiting for him to return. 
Knowing that he would.
And not minding it either.
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Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to any tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3
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Ewan Mitchell in High Life | 2018
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𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕... Ettore x Reader (Earth)
Thinkink about the Anti Love Ettore fic I forgot to finish in time for valentines day. 😗 Whoops. But here is the overview of it!
Tw: Smut, Oral Sex (m receiving), facefucking, ball play, fingering, tiddy suckin, lactation kink (with no lactation), p in v, creampie
Late Valentines Day Special 💌
A/N: In this fic, Ettore has not been caught for his crimes (yet), so it still takes place on Earth. // Banners @cafekitsune
Next Chapter →
Listened to "Do it For Me" by Rosenfeld while writing this.
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Love.
Ettore knew that wasn't possible for him. The way he was and the stuff he liked didn't match the soft idea that love is. His sick and tortured mind would be all too dark for the airy and light idea.
It's not as if he didn't love some things. He loved the feeling of a girl clenching around him, he loved how they would moan a mix of pain and pleasure. He loved when he could effectively make them go from hating him to wanting him to go deeper. The best moments of his life were his cock buried in the tight pussy of some unexpecting girl.
But that was the only love he'd ever known. The only love he's ever seen. His mother used to be fucked the way he fucks. Hard and ruthless with no care for the girl. I mean, thats the only way he's ever seen or heard of. Is that is not how it's meant to go?
But Ettore had his moments where he would imagine a girl wanting him. Wanting his touch, kissing him, holding him. The way his mother used to when she wasn't too busy doing drugs, having sex or dealing with abusive fuckers he was forced to call dad.
Ettore's past had only elicited a fucked future. Two girls had died by his recklessness and he was lucky he hadn't been caught yet. But he couldn't help himself. He liked it when they liked it but something about them not wanting it was even fucking better. The way they would scratch his back, the way they screamed. It just all felt too good to him.
There was only one time where Ettore didn't end up killing the girl, and that was with you. You screamed surely, but not in pain...but pleasure. It wasn't like the moans he had heard before, soft and pliable. You scratched him not to fight him off but to make him go harder and deeper. The same feelings he got from the girls who didn't want it he got it from you but the difference...you needed it. You needed him.
He didn't know much about you. But he knew just like him you were just as fucked. Your past is just as dark as his which led you to the same life. Searching for pleasure wherever you could. Ettore found it in women but you found it in items. The stuff you never had. Your fingers were all too sticky and you stole whatever wasn't tied down.
An odd friendship formed between you and Ettore, if you could even call it that. He called you when he wanted to fuck and in return told you of stuff he saw that would be easy to steal.
It was after Ettore had killed another girl and you showed up at his place unexpectedly as he was getting rid of the body that your friendship became the word instead of an unspoken possibility. The way you helped him clean up and get rid of the body was a type of loyalty he himself had never experienced. It had him fucking you deeper and harder right next to the bagged corpse.
It was then that a new feeling formed in his heart when he looked at you. He didn't know what it was but it made his stomach dance and tie in knots. Besides the throbbing of his cock his chest would tighten slightly and a smile (yes, a smile) now adorned his lips at the sight of you. His emotions were like two sides of a coin.
He would kill for you but also kill you if he had to. He would fuck you but also fuck you if he had to. He wouldn't want to hurt you but he would love to if given the chance. He wanted to do right by you but being wrong feels so good. It was a constant battle in his mind.
He was getting everything he wanted when he was with you. But did he crave more? Ettore knew he was by no means soft. But you know that. You above everyone else would understand his darkness and only love him more for it.
Did he say love? Was this love?
No it's lust...it has to be just lust.
You would never feel the same. He's an idiot. Embrace him? Yeah right, you'd laugh at him. Joke about how dumb he was for wanting you. No, all he could do now was fuck you and kill any guy who would get close to you.
He can't give this up.
The way you come into his apartment all giddy, excited for him to fuck you. How you're already on him the second the door is closed. Fuck he loves how badly you beg for him to touch you. Your kisses are always messy and hungry, no matter how many times you feel him it's like you always need more. Like what he gives is never enough and you'll never be tired of him.
He enjoys slowly undressing you. Each time he sees you you're in a new lingerie set you stole. His favourite to date has to be the black piece you wore for his birthday. You found out he'd never had a birthday party before and decided to surprise him. That day engraves his mind, the way you looked in the set constantly makes him hard.
He closes his eyes and lets the memory take over as his hands find their way wrapped around his cock.
You had come over late with a cake and alcohol. Ettore had gotten up to get plates and when he came back, there you stood. Jacket off, shoes off. Just in that set, a black one-piece with thigh garters on. It was lace and framed your body perfectly like a personal fucking painting made just for him. It did his head in right there.
He picked you up and carried you to the bed not giving a fuck about the plates he just broke as they shattered on the ground. Your squeals of excitement only made him harder.
As always your safeword was mango. But he never failed to remind you every time.
"Is this what you came here for?" He grabbed your hand and placed it over his growing erection. You nodded as you palmed him through his sweatpants. "Take it out then."
The feeling of your hand feels way better than he is. He often struggles to get off considering the large difference between your hand and he is.
You're always so gentle when you touch him. As if you could break him. You slowly pull down his sweatpants as he lays on the bed. He enjoyed watching you undress him, the way your eyes would never leave his.
The second he was free from his clothes you crawled in between his lap leaving kisses on his v line then up and down his cock. Your soft hands massage his balls as your lips wrap around the head of his cock. He remembers the way you gently grazed your teeth against him, how it made him shiver, a spark going up his spine.
His hands found their way to the back of your head as he pushed you down further wanting you to take him all the way. He loved the sound of you gagging on his cock, how tears would fall down your cheek as he used your mouth however he wanted.
As you sat in between his legs he fucked up into your face hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. He watched as your fingers made a feeble attempt to pleasure yourself but no one could finger you like he could. You had quickly learned that after your first time fucking him, no boy could ever make you cum the way he does.
Ettore felt the same way he could never get to fuck someone's throat like this, no one would let him and he wouldn't risk his prized possession getting bitten off.
As he came down your throat he pulled you up to him and kissed your tears. The salty taste made him moan. He removed your fingers and plunged his own deep inside you effortlessly rubbing that soft side inside you. You came almost immediately considering you had basically been edging yourself the entire time you sucked him off.
Ettore had found love for the way you ride him a long time ago. The way you sank down on his cock that night felt almost euphoric. He had long torn off your lingerie knowing you'd just end up stealing another one.
Your pussy was his, always so wet for him and happy to welcome him home. You were his home. Inside of you was where he belonged and no one else.
You bounced on him happily scratching and squeezing his chest in pleasure as his hands gripped your ass and travelled up to your tits. His tongue gently grazed over your nipples giving them only the smallest amount of attention before his lips and hands were on them once again. He often imagined what it would feel like for milk to come leaking out of them and pooling into his mouth, how fucking delicious your milk would be.
He could feel you clenching around him but knew you wouldn't be able to finish without him. He was quick to flip you over onto your back and fuck you into the mattress. One hand pressed down on your stomach while the other circled your bud. Fuck you were hot when you came. Shaking around him squeezing his arms. And your moans, louder than they had ever been.
He grabbed onto your hips, fucking you faster chasing his own release. That night he came harder than he ever had. Spilling himself deep inside you as his lips left marks all over your tits and neck.
A new routine had developed a while ago for afterwards. You had taught him the importance of aftercare. Though at first, he didn't understand what the fuck that was and why it was important. For you, he would do it. Checking on you and getting you water as he wiped you clean trying not to be too rough to overstimulate you even though he loved how you twitched when he did.
And a step of his own he added. Holding you. It fed that feeling in his chest having you so close to him. His hands gently rub your back as you lay on his chest feeling your heart beat against his.
Ettore's eyes popped open as he came on his hand the memory quickly floating away. His breathing uneven and unsure.
That's when he comes to a conclusion. He wouldn't be able to survive without you your pussy. He couldn't lose you it to someone else who understood what it meant to love. He knew what he had to do. The second he sees a bit of the mundane life creep in you he will snuff that light out. He needs you to be as dark as he is. That's the only way you will stay with him.
Fuck love. It has no place here.
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A/N: My professor had given me two assignments due on valentines day...i came to the conclusion that she is a hater. But nonetheless!! Here is my anti-love Ettore fic!
If you want another part of this let me know I have an idea in mind to develop this further! (ok honestly I have like 5 other parts already planned out in my google docs....)
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(This photo his so perfect for valentines day Ettore)
Ewan Taglist: @thought--bubble @valeskafics
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Happy follower milestone! Maybe an Ettore onesbot where reader is assistant to the doctor Dibs and maybe some kind of nurse kink???
Afflictions Of A Dark Nature
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Thank you for the request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! This is my first time writing for Ettore so apologies if it seems OOC, I did try my best (I even re-watched High Life and will be sending the bill for emotional damages). Also get well soon @ewanmitchellcrumbs 😚
Warnings under the cut! Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist
Warnings: *deep breath* lots of swearing, mentions of past sexual encounters that may have not been consensual, fingering, dub-con, p in v sex, ass slapping, degradation, mentions of a blood test, male masturbation, oral (f receiving), creampie, cum eating, dacryphyilia, choking, kinda face slapping?, ass play, spitting, overstimulation | Word Count: 6.4k~ | dividers by @firefly-graphics
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If he had to see that wrinkly, smug face of Dr Dibs again, Ettore would lose it.
He knew who he was. He wasn’t beyond acting out against women if he wanted to. It’s part of what put him here in the first place. Drifting through space, on some suicide mission that the oh-so-wise earthlings had decided it would be better to doom prisoners to death rather than qualified astronauts. Not like it mattered. He was on death-row anyway, so what loss really was it?
Only the loss of his complete sanity.
He knew that if he lashed out at anyone, even Dr Dibs, there’d be a punishment of sorts. In a way that was wholly unethical for someone who is supposed to provide care, but hey, who’s keeping track. Nobody gives a shit on earth. She could put arsenic in the water supply if she wanted to, and nobody could say a thing about it.
For the sake of at least living longer, though it made him dry-heave inside, he sweetened up, got more sleeping pills out of it as a result, which in this place was gold dust. A long, good-night’s sleep did little to take a person away from a situation like this, but it was at least something. A small mercy in a way.
Deep down, there was a need-no, an impulse that Ettore couldn’t shake. 
But before he could indulge in the memories of those needs, someone called his name.
“Ettore, is it?” 
Her voice was sweet, far too compassionate for someone stuck aboard working on this fucked up prison. And when she raised her eyebrows at him to elicit a response, she gave a polite smile. When was the last time someone smiled at him, truly?
She had a clipboard in front of her, disguising the lanyard around her neck and she wore blue scrubs, which looked the same design as the prisoners, but instead theirs were red.
Perhaps to show how dangerous they were. Hers was clinical and clean. Pure.
He wore suspicion on his face, marked with the furrow of his brows and without saying a word he stood and followed her into the infirmary. She was a head shorter than him which made him smirk when he was sure she wasn’t looking. 
All he knew was that he was grateful it wasn’t that wrinkly, smug bitch. He was sure she was doing something fucking weird to them. Just couldn’t put his finger on what.
When she drew the curtain, she let him in first, “Have a seat”
This cubicle was at least separate. And even though they’d not been on the ship for long, it looked crusty and old, with those wax linoleum floors, vile padded walls. It looked like it was going to fall apart. 
Ettore slumped into a chair next to a computer with a huff, taking in his surroundings, still trying to figure out what to make of this new person. Why hadn’t he seen her before? And she looked a lot younger than Dibs, was she even a real doctor or nurse at all?
Her hair was in a loose bun, fractionally more formal than Dibs who wore her braid like armour over her shoulder at all times. It made her look older, despite what Dibs would like to have believed. 
She sat down in front of the computer, typing in a few things, and he admired her face for a moment in silence. The way the light of the monitor reflected off the colour of her eyes, how her tongue darted out to lick her lips when she was trying to read something and how fast her fingers typed on the old, beige keyboard that was far too loud for his liking. Sounded like a clock was ticking in his brain.
He didn’t say a word. As was Ettore’s way. He was usually never one to speak first. He was an observer, seeking out the weaknesses of people as if he could simply by looking, like he could extract a little piece of them the longer he did. For her though, he couldn’t make her out.
When Ettore craned his head slowly to look, he could see she was reading his medical history and it made him feel special to know that she was finding out everything she could about him. He wished he could do the same to her. Find out all her little secrets.
“Just some general things and blood work today, nothing fancy” she says, meeting his eyes for a moment with another polite smile, the kind of smile where she’s clearly just trying to be nice, but Ettore can’t help the deep ache in his core to have a woman in front of him now, after years of not touching one. The Box was fine, sure, but there was no other feeling like a woman. Their warm, fleshy insides, each ridge within different from woman to woman.
Something knocked on the door in his mind. A sinful thought had arrived and asked how would she feel? Did she use the Box as well? Who did she think of when she touched herself?
“Roll up your sleeve for me” she instructs, holding the blood pressure monitor in her hands and tearing the velcro away. 
She meets his eyes again briefly to find him already looking at her when she leans forward to wrap it around his bicep, right over where his tattoo is. She has small, soft hands, indicative of her work. How would they feel on him, wrapped around his cock? Would her hands even surround him? That was all he could think about as she patted the cuff in place, brushing against his shoulder.
The machine whirred to life and it squeezed his arm, at the end bordering on pain which made him wince. She busied herself with typing on her computer in the meantime, the lanyard around her neck now visible, showing her name.
Got you.
When the machine beeped, she looked at the screen and put the results into his record, wheeling her chair to him again to take it off. He felt his cock get hard beneath his scrubs not just at the feel of her hands on him again, but now because of her proximity. He assumed everyone used the same soap here, she was no exception. But it smelled different on her and he inhaled a deep, long breath to commit as much of it to memory as he could.
She looked surprised when he spoke, as if she hadn’t expected him to.
“Why haven’t I seen you around”
It was hardly a questioning tone, more like an accusation. But she didn’t flinch away at it, rather, she was used to it.
She gave another polite smile, “Oh well, I’m usually in here, running all the tests Dibs gives me” she explains, getting her additional tools ready for the blood test, “But she wanted more help with ‘menial’ tasks like this, is how she put it” she says with a short, quiet huff of a laugh, like she thinks the reasoning was poor.
“So now you’re doing poor sod’s blood tests?” 
She nodded, “Something like that” 
Her tools were lined up, a tourniquet, a syringe and some cotton swabs. She pulled a pair of blue gloves on and moved her chair closer to him. 
“So you’re gonna poke at me?” he asks, half-amused, like he’s testing her.
She cleans the area around his arm with alcohol, a puff of air coming out her nose in a quiet laugh, tightening the tourniquet on him “Just seeing if you have good veins” she says, running her thumb over the pale skin of his arm, clearly finding a vein she was happy with.
Dr Dibs always missed his vein at least once, and he’d clench his fist as the needle went in. He wasn’t into drugs, like a lot of other prisoners here, so he wasn’t used to the prickly feeling. He found pleasure in other ways he deemed fit.
“Just a scratch” she mutters, inserting the needle beneath his skin, smiling to herself when blood goes into the bottle. First time. 
Ettore watched the vial fill with rich, thick blood, and then watched her, “You seem a bit young to be a doctor”
"Technically I'm a Junior Doctor" she replies, concentrating on his blood flow before meeting his eyes again. She seems to look at him deeply, her pupils flirting across his face now that they're so close to each other. He hears every little breath, every movement of her throat as she swallows thick, like she's nervous. And everytime her tongue darts out to wet her lips, he stares at the pinkness of it, thinking of how it would feel.
"Should I be trusting you to give me a blood test?" He teases with a wolfish grin, trying to see just how far he can push his luck.
"Hm, I don't suppose you have much choice" her smile turns a bit devilish at his quip, which quite honestly, the turn of her lips makes him want to bend her over the desk and fuck her right then and there. Wants to see what kind of sweet sounds she might make. Even the thought of it makes his cock ache.
“Suppose not”
"I'm allowed to give you blood tests" she says with a teasing smile, pulling the needle from his arm and replacing it with a cotton swab, "Hold that there for me" 
He obeys, holding it with his thumb firmly, smirking at the banter he didn't expect to have. The fact that she doesn't visibly seem afraid of him only spurs him on more. Thinking how far can he really go to make her feel uncomfortable. To make her realise just how dangerous he is, what he could do to her.
If anything he's shocked at his own restraint that he's managed this long without touching her. Such a small little thing. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him if he put his mind to it. And in those cute little scrubs as well, she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing to him. How easy would it be to just rip right through them, to see if she was wearing anything underneath. He imagined she wasn’t, and that he’d rip them open to be greeted with her bare, soft skin, how plush and feminine her tits would be, filling his palm. He wants to squeeze them painfully, make her whine out like a slut.
His body is getting hot, blood thrumming with want.
Once the cotton swab is secured to his arm with adhesive, he can’t take his eyes off her, challenging her to meet his gaze to see what she would do.
“Why are you here?” he asks, intrigued. She doesn’t look a bit like a criminal. But he could be surprised by her and he has a feeling he will.
“That’s a personal question” she states, not losing the lazy smirk on her face at the fact he’s clearly so interested in her, “why are you here?”
“Alright, point taken”
She doesn’t prod for more information.
Holding out a clear tub to him, “You know what to do right?” she asks, clearly holding back a wider smile.
Cheeky bitch.
He snatches it from her grasp with a grin, “Now?”
Her eyebrow twitches in amusement.
“However long it takes”
A jolt goes through his body, as if a light had just come on inside. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.
Fucking cock tease.
He gave her a look before drawing the curtain in the cubicle, barely a few feet from where she sat. So close that he could hear her typing on her computer, hear her quiet sighs. What sweet noises would she make with his cock prodding her soft, tight insides.
Usually when he did sperm samples for Dibs, he took no enjoyment from the idea that she was essentially in the same room as him, not that it took him any less time to cum, she was still a woman and that meant something. As repulsive as she seemed. 
But when he took himself in his fist and stroked himself to hardness, teased himself with eyes softly falling shut, he imagined they were her hands. Everytime he squeezed from base to tip, reaching down with the other hand to cup his balls, wondering what her tongue would feel like dragging over every inch of him. Would she tease him? Lick his angry red tip only slightly, and that sensitive spot underneath, flattening her wet muscle over it slowly, allowing him to feel every warm and minute movement.
Without even really realising, his hand was guiding himself faster, desperate to feel the friction of her pussy choking him. Would she buck her hips to meet his desperate thrusts, or squirm away as he bullied the end of her, pushing against her cervix recklessly. He wanted her to be a good girl, and just take what he gave her. If he started, would he really truly be able to stop?
He struggled to hold in the shuddered breaths and he very nearly forgot to put the tub in front of him before finishing. A pleasant roll of warmth ran through his body, one that quickly turned into a dark, deep desire. His hand wasn't enough. He hadn’t touched a woman in so long. He wanted the real thing and she was right there. Dirty bitch was probably already wet thinking about what he was doing.
Slipping through the curtain he handed it out to her and she took it with an amused raise of her eyebrows.
“That was quick” she quipped, putting a lid on it and writing his name for the label.
Oh she’s going to get it, dirty fucking mouth.
He couldn’t hold off the sort of accomplished grin on his face, she was more fun than he thought. For a moment, he allowed himself to just simply observe her, wondering what other fun they could have.
He was growing impatient at not being able to act on those thoughts. 
“Is that it?” he asks, making her look up again.
“Unless you have any other…ailments?” Ettore doesn’t miss the way she suppresses a grin by biting the inside of her cheek. He doesn’t suppress his and feels impossibly hard once again seeing her dainty lips curl up just slightly. She must be able to see beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs, how much he wants her. Let her see, he thinks, make her squirm a bit.
He watches the way her eyes briefly run over him. It was so quick, that had he not been looking right at her, he would have missed it. She swallows, feeling like he caught her and turns away a bit, trying to hide the warm feeling that settles between her legs at the way he’s looking at her, exciting and yet dangerous at the same time.
She only hopes he doesn’t notice the way she’s squeezed her thighs together. 
“Smashing then, cheers doc” he smirks, sauntering off with a certain swagger about him, knowing that his sweet, innocent looking little doctor is all worked up. He looks over his shoulder before leaving.
The ache of the blood test is completely forgotten. Instead, all his blood is below his waist, with none left for his brain to function. It’s been a while since a woman last did this to him. Yeah he’d fucked plenty of women, some had even wanted it. But he wanted her to want it. Wanted the little slut to beg for it. To beg him to stuff her full of his cock.
That was new, he thought. But it didn’t deter him from trying to get near her when she was alone, for any chance he could get at having her all to himself. 
Annoyingly, he didn’t find the opportunity for quite some time.
Anytime he stalked past her office, there was always some other prisoner inside, having their own tests. A flash of something akin to a dark jealousy courses through his veins, his hands forming fists whenever he hears her talking in a hushed voice to another male prisoner, speaking in that way that only a doctor does.
It’s short lived, when he realises she doesn’t speak as sweetly to them as she does to him.
It feels like he’s had a hard-on for days, just merely thinking about being alone with her. It’s beginning to become painful just how much he wants it, to make her squirm for him, to make her cry. His use of the Box has increased dramatically, but the more he does it, the less the effect. His hand doesn’t do it for him anymore. He can’t replicate that tightness only a woman's cunt could give, the feeling of being sucked so desperately inside someone, being milked for all he’s worth. He dreams of it. She would take it all, he thinks, she’d be a good little slut and take it.
He thinks that if he goes there often enough, he might just run into her, drag her inside, or to a nearby hallway, or even tackle her to the floor if need be and shove himself so deep in her she won’t be able to hold back her wanton moans. He imagines holding her arms behind her back so she can’t move, brutally fucking her so hard that her hips will be bruised. 
He’s always liked walking around in the dark, even though he knows he’s not really allowed.
Tonight though, it rewards him.
A soft light emanates from her office and when he leans against the doorway to peek inside, he emits a quiet laugh through his nose, hands in pockets, just watching her.
Her hair is free of the loose bun she wore before and it trails down her back as she’s sat in her chair, leaning over a microscope. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing and recording notes that his presence doesn’t even disturb her.
He didn’t even think about announcing his presence. He wanted her genuine reaction.
So he didn’t think twice about stalking up behind her and grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her back. Only a quiet gasp escaped before he slammed his palm over her mouth, muffling a surprised cry.
“Shut the fuck up” he warned with a low voice.
She froze at his words, eyes wide and breathing heavily, not even having to wonder who it was. His fingers curled painfully against her scalp, tugging her up so her back is to him. Ettore can feel her hurried breaths out her nose hitting his hand.
“Be quiet and I’ll play nice” he says against the shell of her ear, making her body shudder, drawing his hand away from her mouth.
“What the hell are you doing?” she whispers accusingly behind her as he pushes the front of her body close to the desk, the edge biting into the front of her legs. His hands run down the sides of her, sucking in the fabric to the shape of her body, growling low at finally being able to see her form underneath.
“I came to see you” he grins,
“Fucking liar”
There was something exciting about being called out like that, and about her saying such vulgar words. As sweet as she looked, he knew there was something deep inside, somewhere he wanted to prod and poke at.
“It’s your own fucking fault” he snarls, pushing his hardness against the softness of her ass. He feels her freeze up for a moment, as if she’s just putting the pieces together, “prancing about in your slutty fucking doctor’s outfit”
One hand dips beneath the hem of her scrubs, a warm sigh expelled from his chest at the softness of her stomach beneath it, trailing higher over her ribs. He can almost feel her pounding heart from here, and it does nothing to deter him, the smirk on his face evidence of that. His large palm tugs at one of her clothed breasts, slightly annoyed to see that she’s wearing a bra underneath, but he squeezes it all the same, relishing in the pained whine she lets out in response to it.
His other hand tugs her forearm almost painfully behind her, twisting it in his grip harshly. He fully knew how strong he was compared to her and couldn’t have her doing anything rash. Best to keep her hands where he can see them.
“I was just trying to be nice” she counters with a harshness to her voice, not being able to take the breathiness out of it,  “Damn sight better than what most of you deserve” she briefly struggles in his hold, that is until he tightens the clamp on her wrist. A warning.
“Careful” he warns low in her ear, “I don’t think you understand the situation right now”
“You need to get off me. Now” she tries to push her hips away from him, but at her blatant refusal, he only pushes himself closer to her, moaning softly at the friction against him and the warmth of her even with her scrubs separating them.
He resists the urge to outright laugh, and scoffs instead, “You are in no position to make demands to me. I see right through you…you want me”
She only grunts painfully in response, half-trying to tear her hand away. Not trusting herself to say anything. Ettore almost wants to laugh at how pathetically she’s trying to avoid showing how she really feels.
“How long has it been, hm?” he says, more like a growl than anything, as his hand dips beneath the waistband of her scrubs, “Since someone touched you here”
She doesn’t reply, half fighting and half giving in. But then his hand cups her clothed sex, only covered by her thin underwear and she feels his large palm rub against her, her clit throbbing with desire at not having been touched in so long. God it had been so long. His fingers tease her entrance, rubbing in circles, coaxing some slick from her.
“A while, huh?” he smirks.
“Stop it, we’ll get in trouble” she says, but it comes out a whisper, not able to hide the way his hand against her most intimate area is having such an effect on her. The heel of his palm rubs against her bundle of nerves, making her blood feel like fire in her veins, arousal pooling in her belly.
“You think I give a fuck?” he retorts, grinning, “I would have a thousand punishments if I meant I could shove my cock in your tight little hole”
“You wouldn’t”
He does laugh at that, “You wanna bet?”
Her body briefly goes rigid, trying to hold back a genuine moan when his hand dips past her underwear, and Ettore groans at the feeling of her warm, wet pussy, coating his fingers with her slick. Her eyes break closed, mouth taut into a thin line to hold in her whine, body slightly trembling at how hard she is trying to hold back.
“You talk all this shit and you’re fucking soaked for me” he grins against her ear, “is this what was under that uniform…while you were prodding and poking me?”
She gasps, her lips opening in a hurried breath as his digit sinks into her, teasing her soft, spongy walls with the calloused pads of his fingertips. She doesn’t answer him. Can’t. She can just feel herself getting warmer. It’s undeniable, the effect he has on her. And she’s not sure if she’d be wise to submit to it. 
But it’s getting harder and harder by the second not to.
“Oh, you’re filthy” he says, inserting another finger, stretching her pussy with them, softly but harshly pushing inside “getting off on taking my blood, fucking slut”
At both his words and motions, she lets out a soft and quiet moan, a pressure inside her building the more she feels his fingers caressing her warm, wet walls.
Ettore tugs down his sweatpants, freeing his cock which sits hot and heavy against the curve of her ass, the tip flushed and stood to attention against his stomach. He gives himself a few pumps, pushing forward to let her feel him. He doesn’t even bother to begin the tryst with kissing. He’s not like that.
It’s much too soft and intimate a gesture, compared to what he plans to do with her.
She turns her head, now just quietly moaning at the pleasure his fingers give her, eyes half open and a hedonistic expression on her face. She sees him pull his shirt up his chest, and then looks down, to see what exactly is pushing hard against her backside.
Before she has any time to react, his hand is curled around her nape, pushing her head flush against the table in front of her, sending the samples scattering to the floor. 
"Stop it!" She protests, trying to wiggle helplessly out his grasp, "I'll scream"
She sees him smirk, looking down at her with a half lidded lust filled gaze.
"Do it then, makes it more interesting" he shows his teeth, tugging down her scrubs song with her underwear. Now with her body flush against the table and stuck, both his hands knead the globes of her ass, his fingers leaving pink marks in their wake. He takes fistfuls, spreading them to have a proper look at her glistening pussy, just waiting for him. She whimpers at the pleasured pain it emits when his fingers hold her apart, only to turn into a surprised gasp as he kicks her ankles apart.
“Someone could walk in!” she whisper-shouts, holding her hand to her mouth to muffle any sounds when he runs the tip of his cock over her soaked folds, slapping it against her clit and smiling at her reaction.
“Let them watch then, they can see how much of a mess I’ll make of you” he purrs leaning down to press his chest against her back, “None of that either” he pulls her hand from her mouth, “I want to hear how desperate you are for me”
With her cheek flush against the table, she had to only move her eyes to look at him. Glazed over with the pupil blown wide, it betrays just how much she may or may not want it, she still doesn’t want to show him. She’s almost annoyed at his cockiness, until she feels just how big he is, teasing her ever so slightly at her entrance.
“Now let’s see what pretty noises you can make for me, hm?”
He pushes against her, parting her folds, pulling her hips towards him to sink as much inside her as he can. His heart beats faster as he feels her pussy choke him tightly, every single ridge feels like fucking magic against his cock, he feels like just finishing inside her right there. She chokes a moan, his curved member rubbing up inside her at all the right angles the further inside he goes, until he kisses the end of her with the tip, reaching places she could never with her own fingers in the Box. Her back arches slightly as he bottoms out inside her, his fingers so tight on her hips they will definitely be bruised tomorrow.
He doesn’t give her time to adjust, not even a second, as he pulls all the way out, his length covered in her slick and slams back inside with a wet smack, watching how the flesh of her ass ripples when his hips meet it.
“Oh you’re bad…” he purrs, setting a brutally quick pace. Her eyes softly shut, her front rubbing almost painfully against the stainless steel table with each hard thrust.
“Gonna have you on every fucking flat surface in this ship” he breathes, his voice hurried from the effort and how she tightens around him at his words, “you’d like that wouldn’t you….everyone watching how much of a slut you are”
She yelps out in a pained moan when he slaps her ass, gripping it after to emphasise the burn, “Answer me”
“Yes-yes…” she manages through hurried breaths, trying to control her volume but rapidly failing.
Every time he fucks into, the sheer thickness of him pushes the air out of her lungs every time, her walls stretching against him to accommodate. Ettore smirks down at the view. She lets out between a sob and a moan when she feels his spit on her puckered hole, his thumb rubbing circles against it and spreading his saliva over her sensitive skin.
It feels so right and wrong at the same time. And when he pushes a thumb inside, only making her feel more full than she already does, she can't help but buck her ass against him, wanting more friction, pleasured tears falling down her cheeks. It really had been a while since she last had sex, obviously. But nobody had been this forward and rough with her before.
“See? I know you like this…knew you wanted to fuck me the second you saw me” he mocks, giving one hard, deep thrust inside which has her squirming against him with a desperate whine, his thumb sank all the way inside her ass, the movement of their fucking aiding in stimulating that as well.
He thinks, one day he'll claim that hole of hers as well.
But not today.
He pulls out quickly and instantly tugs at her hair, turning her over so that he can see her face. She’s sat weakly up on the counter, thighs held apart for him by one of his hands. Poor thing looks tired out, he thinks, looking at her watery eyes and flushed cheeks, her head lolling back against the counters with a thud.
“Are you fucking crying?” he grins, softly slapping her cheek and grabbing her face so she looks at him, “really has been a while, huh? That’s a bit pathetic”
He practically rips the shirt off her, not even bothering to take the bra underneath off and just tugs it to the side, freeing her breasts. He groans at the sight, perky, rosy and stood to attention in the now hot office, smelling of pure, unadulterated sex. They fill his palms perfectly, and he tugs at them with his fingers, revelling in the low, chesty mewl she lets out.
It’s no effort at all the way his cock just slides into her again, slowly. Too slowly.
She feels the curve of his cock, different in this new position, every vein and ridge. His thickness splits her open until he hits the end of her, pounding mercilessly into her, making the cupboards jolt in place with each snap of his hips against her thighs, which he is keeping in his palms wide apart. Ettore grins down, watching at the way his cock disappears into her over and over, at the ripple of her soft, soft skin each time.
She arches her back against him, warm, pleasured tears pricking at her eyes the closer she gets to that tight, hot pressure in her tummy bursting. He laughs as she clenches noticeably around him,
“What is it, hm?” he sneers, “or have I fucked you stupid?”
Her moans are so desperate she really does look pathetic, “fuck…I’m gonna-”
“You gonna cum for me?” he taunts with a wide smirk, all of this just doing wonders for his ego, “now, why would I let you do that?”
“...ne-need it…”
He never lets up his pace as once hand curls into her neck, tugging her forward so that her eyes are solely on him. She moans softly at the rough action.
Pathetic.
“You gonna be a good girl and be quiet?”
She nods as best she can, his hand tightening only slightly around her neck, trying to will her voice to come out between the deafening smacks of their fucking.
“Yes..”
“Say please, then”
“Please-I need it” she begs in a horse voice.
He shoves her back roughly, smacking her head against the cupboards, watching her tits as they bounce. Truthfully, he can feel himself getting close as well, but more than anything he wants to watch her come undone on his cock. Show her just how much fun she could have with him if she just let herself.
Her cheeks are pink and her chest is dotted with warmth as the air in the office is hot and thick, even more so at the pleasurable lack of oxygen his hand around her neck gives. It makes it harder for those strained moans to pass her lips.
Every drag through her hot, ridged core sends sparks of pleasure through him, crawling up his spine. 
You first.
She sucks in a breath when he lets go of her neck, allowing his thumb into her mouth. She sucks on the digit greedily, using her tongue to coat it with saliva. Ettore almost moans at just the sight of her.
He'll have that mouth too, he thinks.
A string breaks between her mouth and her thumb as he presses it suddenly against her clit, hard. She gasps at the painful pleasure of his rough actions, swirling his thumb over her bud to bring her to that precipice first.
Her hands grip his shoulders, but he quickly tears them off him, "I didn't say you could touch me" he snarls in between devastating thrusts, drawing figures of eight on her clit and watching as she squirms.
Her hands brace the counter either side of her legs, needing something to hold onto, "...m sorry…"
"You will be fucking sorry. Stupid bitch" 
If it's possible, he moves himself into her faster, bullying that rough patch inside her with such severity that her eyebrows furrow together, her mouth open in a silent scream. She contracts around him at the combined pleasure of his cock and his stimulation to her bud, knuckles going white at her grip on the counter.
"Such a perfect pussy…never fucking using that Box again…not when I have this…" he breathes pressing his body against hers so they are flush, his nose running up the side of her neck.
"Ettore, please…"
It's not really a request, just something that passes her lips. And he knows the second he feels her clench so tightly that she's done for, when her back arches towards him and her body goes rigid for a split second.
Her teeth sink into his skin at his shoulder, muffling the scream of pleasure that threatens to escape. He knows that will be there for days and it will most definitely hurt in the morning.
A gush of arousal soaks his cock and he continues to pound into her through it, pressing his thumb into her clit, extending her little death into a devastating abyss of warmth and rapture. Her walls quiver with overstimulation around him, and he can feel the wetness of her tears on his shoulder, her desperate whines.
"Fuck-shit" Ettore pushes inside once more, hard, with a barely stifled groan, huffing a pleasured laugh at the feeling of stuffing her with his cum and the warmth that surrounds him.
He wants to stay like that forever, keeping his cum inside her with his cock. Her thighs shake slightly, and he delights in the fact that she might not be able to walk afterwards. To remind her who she belongs to, now that he's claimed her.
He calms his hurried breathing just enough to pull his rapidly softening cock from her, earning a low whine from her once she pulls her teeth from him. Her tits move slowly with her breathing, thighs still shaking ever so slightly and parted to give him a good view of the mess he's made of her.
Her arousal combined with the cum that's leaking out of her activates a primal part of his brain and he's tempted to fuck her brains out again, but knows he wouldn't be able to.
Another time.
"Look at my filthy little doctor" 
He pulls her thighs close to him, teetering on the edge of the table, and all she's able to do is make a sound of surprise, eyes widening as he sinks to his knees between her legs.
"No-no, Ettore-" she protests quickly. Her hands going back to bracing the counter tightly when she feels his warm, wet muscle lapping against her soaked folds, a combination of her climax and his swirling over his tongue with such lewdness it makes her flush bright red.
After such a recent and all-consuming orgasm, she flinches when his tongue swirls over her clit, the vibrations of his low moans against it feels much too overwhelming now.
"Please-too much-"
He runs his tongue flat over her core, groaning at the combined taste of them and lapping up whatever leaks out of her. He could spend fucking days between her legs if she tastes like this all the time. Her arousal is so sweet and tart, musky when combined with his. Mixed with his cum, he thinks, she's made to be fucked by him. Made to be filled.
Fucking her with his tongue through her fluttering walls, her hand cards through his hair, tugging. To push him away or to bring him closer, she's torn between the two. The warmth of his mouth against her is just too tempting to want him to stop and when he moves his face side to side, his sharp nose nuzzling against her already over-used clit…
"Fuck! Please-"
The orgasm that rocks through her body blazes every nerve in its path, all the way down to the way his tongue is still lapping and sucking her juices, as if she's the best thing he's tasted since boarding this hellscape of a ship. He takes every bit of essence, sighing and moaning, with a grip so iron on her thighs, she can't move even if she wanted to.
Ettore rises to his feet, giving one more flattened lap over her core, sucking at her clit, which makes her twitch. Her glazed over, wettened eyes meet his, the blue almost entirely encompassed by black. He looks like an animal who's just tasted blood again after a long time of being caged. She doesn't entirely know why, but it makes her throb with desire, and it frightens even her to know that such a dangerous man, a criminal no less, is making her feel this way.
It makes her think, is she any better for enjoying it as much as she did.
He looks down at her, almost entirely bared to him, his reddened marks blossoming over her skin in early bruises. Her fucked-out face, a mix of lust and confusion, with that tell-tale pink to her cheeks.
A dangerous grin widens across his face.
"I meant it you know…" he says, dark and low, "...I'm not using that fucking Box ever again"
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hoosbandewan · 5 months
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EWAN MITCHELL MANNERISMS IN DIFFERENT ROLES
Ewan Wiggles World on Fire (2019), High Life (2018), The Halcyon (2017), Trigger Point (2022), Doctors (2017), and The Last Kingdom (2020)
And the gif that inspired this post:
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