#DAMN RIGHT I'M EZRA | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norrisleclercf1 · 8 months

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A request for our boy - can you do something with Elijah starting to get older and goes partying w his friends and makes some bad decisions while drunk. Id imagine Charles to be the most understanding and even tho lando is usually more shy he would be furious because he always says he doesn’t drink and it would catch Elijah reader and Charles off

Party Boy

Words: 1.4K

Warnings: Attempted drunk driving, being drunk, alcohol, blood, hurting friends

Rating: PG-13

Our Boy Masterlist

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" Cheers erupt as Elijah drinks from the funnel. Sneaking out was the best idea ever. At 19, Elijah was in F2, taking the sport by storm, clearly inheriting all 3 of his father's talents for driving. "Hell yeah!" Elijah yells as Diego, Rafael, and Beau all cheer him on.

"Easy there, you're drinking too much." Elijah shakes off Erza, his Uncle Max's son, older than them all at 24. "Leave me alone. I'm having fun! That's what you all wanted me to do, right? Have fun!" Elijah staggers off, bumping into people as he heads for the kitchen. Beau follows after, telling Ezra he'll watch him. "Yeah, right, you'll egg him on." Waving him off, Beau joins his best friend in the kitchen.

"Elijah, slow down." Beau pleads, seeing Elijah take shot after shot. "Beau, I'm 19 and smoking hot. I don't need to slow down." Elijah laughs, taking another shot. "Maybe this was a bad idea," Rafael whispers to the quiet one of the group. "It's not a bad idea, Raf. I needed to let loose, and I am. Being the oldest, always watch over Cecile. Helping Ma with Callum, I deserve this one night." Elijah garbles, words starting to slur.

"Okay, let's go." Ezra storms into the kitchen, but Elijah throws him off. "Fuck off, Ez." Ezra stumbles, throwing his hands out. The sound of glass breaks, smears of red marking the counter. "Ezra!" Diego moves, grabbing a towel and putting pressure on his hand. "I'm fine, Diego. Check on him." Nodding, Diego spins as Beau and Rafael try to calm him down.

"Oh, shove off!" Grabbing a beer bottle, Elijah throws it, another thing breaking. "God damn, he's drunk drunk." Beau curses, trying to control Elijah. Able to get free, Elijah stumbles out of the kitchen, grabbing his keys. "No, Elijah!" Ezra scrambles up as they rush after him. "You can't drive. You're drunk." Trying to reason with him, Elijah shrugs them off.

"Go away, I can drive. If I can drive dangerous cars for a living, I think I can handle this." Moving quick, Diego snatches the keys, Elijah stumbling but falls to the ground. "Okay, who do we call? We can't call our parents they'll kill us. And we can't drive; we've all been drinking." Diego whines, not liking this. "Hang on." Ezra keeps the towel tight around his hand, digging through Elijah's pockets.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly gets in, dialing a number. "Who are you calling?" Beau asks, making sure Elijah doesn't vomit. "His father."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ugh," Sitting up, Elijah presses the heel of his hands into his eyes. A jackhammer was going off in his head, and he was trying to remember how he got this way. "You're awake." Elijah makes a sound of disimprovement, not wanting to talk.

"Father, please, my head hurts, and I," Elijah stops, looking over and seeing Nico leaning on his counter holding two mugs. "Oh god," Nico says nothing as he walks around, placing the mug in front of his son. "Ezra and your friends brought you over. They're currently sleeping it off." Elijah nods, everything that happened a few hours ago blank.

"You should know I called Y/n, Charles, and Lando." Elijah whimpers, feeling sick, but Nico seems not to care. "What you've done and could've done will have serious consequences. You're lucky your friend Diego took your car keys from you." The pit in his stomach grows bigger hearing those words. "I," Taking a deep breath, he blows it out. "I almost drove drunk?" Turning to look at his father.

"Yes." Nico stares at Elijah, wanting to say more, but this isn't his place. "You're not going to yell at me?" Nico places his mug down, rubbing his forehead. "No, that is up to your parents. Your fathers." Elijah looks away, hating that Nico still doesn't see himself as his father. "You're one of my fathers." Nico laughs, standing as he starts to pace.

"Elijah, I'm not your father the way they are. We had this conversation 3 years ago, not again." A piercing ring has Elijah whimpering, covering his head as Nico goes to answer the door. "Where is he?" Rushing past Nico, you spot your eldest son on the couch, cradling his head. "Elijah." Sitting down next to him, you rub his back. "Mama, I feel sick." Charles sighs, adjusting Callum on his hip, the baby fast asleep.

"It's going to be okay. You're lucky Nico came a picked you up." Charles hated that Elijah got this drunk. It happened to everyone, but the fact his son went so far as to almost drive drunk made him a little sick. "Thank you for doing that." You nod at Nico, who says nothing, glancing at Lando. "It's going to be okay? What the fuck is that, Charles?" Lando sneers, furious beyond means.

"What? Lando, why are you so angry?" You whisper yell, Charles bouncing Callum to keep him asleep. "Angry? I'm fucking furious. I could kill you myself, Elijah." Flinching at his Dad's words Elijah hides his head farther in his knees. "Lando, don't speak to him like that." Charles scolds, but Lando pays him no mind. "Do you understand what you've done tonight?" Not receiving an answer, Lando throws his hands up.

"You shoved Ezra, cutting his hand on the glass. You then proceeded to try to DRIVE DRUNK!" Lando roars. Callum's little body jolts as little whimpers turn into loud cries. "Dammit. I'm sorry, little mouse." Lando whispers, rubbing Callum's back. "Lando, you don't need to yell at our boy like this. He made a mistake." Elijah refuses to look up; he wants nothing more than to cry.

"A mistake? Y/n, he was going to drive drunk. He could've killed someone." Elijah peers up, seeing how furious his Dad is. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Dad." Lando turns, his heart aching, noticing the redness of his boy's eyes. "Elijah, I can't understand why you would try to do this. Why would you drink?" Charles moves, giving Callum to you as he takes your place, comforting his son. "Lando, we all drink and get drunk. It's part of growing up." Charles tries to reason with his husband. "I don't." "Don't what Land?" Callum's little cries die down, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

"Drink. I don't drink. It's bad for you. It makes people do terrible things. So I don't drink." Elijah giggles, unable to help himself. "Dad, I've seen you drink before. Uncle Carlos and Max always bring your favorite beers for you." Elijah nods, leaning into Charles, who plays with his hair. "Virgin." "What?" Unable to stop your laugh. "They're virgin, nonalcoholic. For this very reason, they bring them to me because they know I don't keep beer at home." Lando opens his arms, Callum being passed to him now.

"Elijah, I don't want to ever see you drink again. Do you understand me? Not in my house. If you can't control yourself, you can't drink in my home. Not with Cecile and Callum living there." Charles studies Lando, knowing why he stopped drinking and looks away. He still regrets that night. "Yes, sir, I'm sorry." Lando steps forward and crouches down.

"Elijah, I love you so much. You....you took away a piece of my trust again. So, your punishment. You're not allowed to drive in the F2 Championship race." Bolting up, Elijah blinks away, the room spinning. "What, NO! Dad, come on, I have a chance of winning it all! A chance to get an F1 seat and drive next to you and Pa. Don't do this." Elijah pleads. You should learn the responsibilities of what it means to drive, Elijah. I won't allow you behind the wheel of any car until you understand what you could've done tonight." Elijah drops back to the couch, now really wanting to cry.

"Elijah, you could've died or killed someone. This might seem harsh now, but you'll understand when you have children. Now let's go home." Elijah nods, lumbering out of the apartment not even saying goodbye to Nico. Lando stops, the last one to leave, as he stares at Nico. "He might have your blood, but he's my son. I only agreed to him having a relationship with you to save my marriage and family. But don't think I'll ever forgive you for what you did. But, thank you." Lando walks out, Nico slamming the door.

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backtothefanfiction · 7 months

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Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world.

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare.

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?”

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you.

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you.

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs.

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you.

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin.

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you.

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs.

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.”

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air.

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.”

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged.

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock.

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly.

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again.

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you.

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #professor!Peter Parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #Andrew Peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #Peter Parker smut #professor!au #spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #andrew garfield peter parker #reader insert #smut #this is so self indulgent #Peter Parker x female reader

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 8 months

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Cold Nights to Sunday Mornings - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

Summary: 2.1k words. loosely inspired by "Hold My Girl" by George Ezra. (idk what to put for the summary but! pls trust that it's worth your time bc i'm proud of this :) )

Warnings: lots of angst & fluff to redeem the angst

a/n: the fall semester just started & i've been really busy so i'm just as shocked as you are that i'm actually posting a fic. enjoy & please let me know what you think <3

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“Baby, we have to get up,” she pleaded. Bradley ignored her request and wrapped his arms around her midsection tighter.

A soft displeased hum left her lips—though it was mostly in jest. She could never be anything but content in Bradley’s arms. The sound only had the aviator nuzzling his head further against her neck, peppering light kisses across the exposed skin.

---

Before y/n, Bradley never slept in. Rooster was his call sign for a reason. For better or for worse, he had a habit of being up before the sun and the rest of the sane world.

Sleeping in meant that he was only prolonging the amount of time he spent in bed alone. The barrack beds were uncomfortable and cold. When he’d been promoted and was able to arrange for housing off-base he ran into the same issue. A thousand dollars and a new mattress later, the comfort issue was fixed. He might as well have been sleeping on a damn cloud. But his bed was still cold. And lonely.

Without an alarm clock he rose every morning no later than 5:30 a.m.. Maybe it was because of all his years in the military. Maybe it was the broken teenager inside of him that was always running—from his past, to his future, to find someplace somewhere that he could rest easy—and damn, was that exhausting. Everyone he loved and counted on died suddenly, or abandoned him, or died slowly.

As he got older, he found a little bit of peace. Bradley worked his ass off and earned his successful career. He reconnected with his estranged Godfather. He was reassigned to the same base he spent most of his early childhood at.

He slept better after that. In his mid-thirties, it was about damn time that he was able to relax a bit. Yet still, no amount of blankets warmed up the everpresent unwelcome chill.

---

One morning he had a particularly unpleasant wake-up. At just after 4 in the morning, Bradley woke up drenched in sweat. The nightmares weren’t frequent, but they weren’t uncommon. It came with the territory of being directly involved in combat. He couldn’t go back to sleep–he never could–so he got up. He cleaned his entire house. He watched a movie that he wasn’t paying attention to. He went for a run. He didn’t bother counting the miles, he just ran until he felt better; even though he never really did. When he was done showering, it was finally a socially acceptable hour to call someone.

Bradley’s thumb hovered over Pete’s phone number. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed harder than necessary on the screen and winced as the phone rang. After 3 rings Bradley’s tense shoulders deflated. Just before the call went to voicemail, it was picked up with haste. Shuffling could be heard on the other end of the line.

“Hi sweetie!” That’s not Maverick.

“Hey Penny…” he trailed off awkwardly. He was hardly prepared to have a conversation with his godfather, much less his godfather’s girlfriend.

“Mav is out in the hangar right now working on his plane,” Penny explained with a sarcastic air of ‘what else is new?’. There was more shuffling as Penny moved to hold the phone between her shoulder and ear. She had a splatter or two of pancake batter on her manicured hands. Pete would just have to suck it up when he saw the evidence on his phone later.

“I’m making breakfast right now, would you like to come over? I’ll make up a plate for you, hun,” Penny offered sweetly. She was so caught up in putting together her Sunday breakfast feast that she hardly realized she never asked Bradley why he called.

The younger man paused for a moment. He didn’t want to impose, but he really didn’t want to be alone right now.

Pete met Bradley at the front door with a fond smile. Bradley tried his best to return the smile but he wasn’t successful. His lips just looked like they were twisted in pain and there wasn’t much light in his eyes. Maverick’s brow furrowed. He wouldn’t push until the kid was ready to open up, and he had a feeling that wouldn’t be until after he had a plate full of Penny’s famous pancakes.

Amelia all but inhaled her breakfast before she twirled around the house like a mini tornado, grabbing her bag and keys and shouting ‘ThanksforbreakfastI’mgoingtothebeachwithsomefriendsloveyoubye!’ as the door slammed shut behind her. Maverick’s eyebrows raised and Penny just shook her head with a smile.

The older woman subtly watched Bradley clear his plate. She waited until he swallowed his last bite of food and washed it down with orange juice before she rested her soft hand over his white knuckle clenched fist on the table.

“What’s going on, Bradley?” she asked gently. She was careful–like he was a scared animal that might bolt in an instant. Pete leaned in, making sure he was within his godson’s line of sight too. Bradley couldn’t meet either of their eyes. He cleared his throat and was quiet for a moment.

He told them about the nightmare. About the cold sweat, and the cold sheets, and the cold bed, and the cold empty house. Mav’s heart broke. He was trying his best to do right by Goose; he’d just barely managed to repair his relationship with his godson, but he supposed there was only so much he could protect the younger aviator from.

Pete reached across to rest an arm on Bradley’s shoulder. He tensed then relaxed, but didn’t shake off Mav’s hand. Maybe that was a good sign. Penny’s gaze was sympathetic. Bradley rarely opened up to anyone, but he knew Penny was the person to go to when pity would make him nauseous.

“It might be helpful to get some company,” the older, wiser woman suggested and squeezed Bradley’s hand. His fist unclenched a bit. Pete had been mostly silent up until this point. He wasn’t good with emotions, that much was obvious to anyone who’d spent more than half an hour outside of work with the man.

“Company other than one night stands and the stray cats you swear you don’t feed,” Pete remarked. Rooster chuckled. It was the first genuinely positive reaction they’d seen from him this morning. The cats are lovely company, thank you very much, Bradley thought.

---

Bradley tried to get his shit together. He was mostly successful. He officially took in one of the stray cats. He brought him to the vet and made sure his vaccines were up to date and got the poor cat neutered. A cat tree tower took residence next to the backdoor Bradley left cat food out by.

He even tried his hand at gardening. He started a small vegetable garden and did a bit of landscaping. Two months ago he didn’t know which perennials were best suited for California weather, much less how to take care of them. Now he’d installed a carefully timed automatic sprinkler system and even built a tarp over part of the earthy plot to prevent too much sun exposure for some of the more delicate plants.

You have to love yourself before you can love someone else.

Bradley was convinced that phrase was absolute bullshit. Plenty of people were in happy relationships and still went through bouts of being miserable with themselves. Penny tsked Bradley’s pessimism at her bar top. She’d unofficially taken on the role of being his intermittent therapist.

“Bull shit or not, you need to work out some of your own issues before you start dating around,” she said pointedly. She was being pulled in the opposite direction by another bartender that needed her help when she shouted back to Bradley, “Don’t you dare download Tinder, mister!” The exclamation was far too loud for Bradley’s taste, especially when several heads suddenly whipped around to focus on him.

So work out his issues he did.

He stopped throwing himself into work and ruthless workouts simply for the sake of avoiding his thoughts and being alone. He tried out sitting in silence with his thoughts in his lonely house. He hated it. But he got better at it over time. Goose the cat climbing across his lap and snuggling against his thigh made things better.

Companionship. Mav and Penny were right. He needed someone outside of work. Someone whose life didn’t center around the Navy or planes or beer.

---

y/n wasn’t who he ever imagined ending up with. She didn’t particularly care for the U.S. military-industrial complex. She wasn’t a beer girl and she wasn’t very good at driving. She was afraid of heights so she preferred not to fly when she traveled. Whenever she could drive instead of take a flight, she would—even though she’s admittedly a bad driver.

y/n loved Bradley’s cat. She was a cat and a dog person. She was also a bearded dragon person—something that Bradley did not expect to learn about anyone over the age of 20. Her eyes were filled with wonder when she first laid eyes on his thriving vegetable garden.

y/n was very outdoorsy. She loved nature and the beach, she dragged Bradley out of his cold house more times than he could count. The more time y/n spent at his house, the less cold it felt. She brought Bradley on hikes—he had no idea how many trails and reserves were within driving distance. Bradley always drove.

Their green thumbs linked well together. y/n introduced several cat-safe plants to the interior of Bradley’s home. Every once in a blue moon, the couple would spend time at y/n’s apartment. Her roommate was even less of a fan of the military-industrial complex and it showed. One morning Bradley woke up before y/n so he headed to her kitchen to make them breakfast. Her roommate, Allie, woke up early as well. A not-so-casual conversation ensued (read: scrutinizing questions) about Bradley being ‘“Property of Uncle Sam” over the sound of scrambled eggs sizzling. After that, Bradley suggested they spend more time at his house. It was roomier, he reasoned. y/n snorted. “You just don’t want Allie talking at you at the butt crack of dawn,” y/n corrected. Bradley nodded with tight lips.

Mav and Penny enthusiastically offered to help move y/n into Bradley’s home after the spunky y/h/c accepted his offer with a massive grin and a PG-13 kiss.

Now that Bradley woke up with y/n in his arms every morning, he wasn’t really eager to hop out of bed anymore. He was pretty sure the last time he habitually woke up later than 9 in the morning on weekends was when he was in high school.

---

y/n huffed and leaned back into Bradley’s warm embrace. The man was practically a space heater in bed, but he was her space heater.

She twisted around in his arms with a grin so that they were chest to chest. Bradley’s legs tensed when y/n’s cold feet assaulted his skin.

“We need to go feed Goose,” y/n reasoned, even though she knew full well that Bradley couldn’t be reasoned with when he was comfortable in bed. Comfortable and bed were two words that weren’t associated with each other for quite a long time for Bradley.

“He can starve for a bit,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. y/n gasped and swatted his arm. The corner of his lip twitched into a grin as he leaned forward to blindly press a kiss to y/n’s face.

“You have morning breath, Brad,” she wrinkled her nose. He squinted one eye open and stuck his tongue out at y/n. She rolled her eyes but she too snuggled further into his warm embrace. 20 minutes or so passed by. y/n was falling in and out of almost asleep, and she was ready to get the day going.

She squirmed in Bradley’s arms again.

“Bradleyyy,” she groaned, feeling antsy. The aviator shook his head with a smile. For the first time all morning, he cracked his eyes open. The light streaming through the window highlighted the flecks of gold in his beautiful big brown eyes and y/n forgot what she was going to say.

“Shhh, five more minutes” he hushed softly and pressed a kiss to y/n’s nose, a content smile on his face.

“Give me a minute to hold my girl.”

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#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

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operationslipperypuppet · 4 months

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a small, slightly strange, slightly devastating hardwon and moonshine treat for @stone-stars as part of @naddpodgifting.

Transcript:

This is a series of clips edited together, skipping some moments in certain episodes. Skips ahead will be marked with line breaks. The episodes used, in order, are C1E99, C1E100, C1E57, C1E99, C1E92, C3E41, C3E41, and C1E99. Used throughout are lines from "If We Were Vampires" by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit. Those lyrics are in bold.

If we were vampires and death was a joke Moonshine (Emily): How long do half-elves live? We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke Hardwon (Jake): And I wanna keep on living in that world. I wanna be a part of the Crick. I, I just wanna live next door to, to Ol' Cobb, I wanna learn from Maw Maw. [Emily gasps] Hardwon: And, hell, I wanna keep hanging out with you, so... Moonshine [overlapping]: It - Hardwon: If you'll find me a stump. -- Moonshine: Hardwon, I promise, you are gonna love our lazy afternoons and our rowdy evenings. [Caldwell laughs] Hardwon: I truly can't wait. Moonshine (/Emily): I give him a big hug. Hardwon (/Jake) [slightly choked up]: I hug her back. Laugh at all the lovers and their plans Jake (/Hardwon): I'm going to kiss Moonshine. [Murph gasps] -- Murph: Um - Hardwon: You're beautiful, is all I'm trying to say. [Emily laughs] -- Queen Ezra (Murph): Oh, you think you can save her. Hardwon: I think she can save herself. I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand Hardwon: It doesn't matter how I feel about Moonshine, cause she's gonna do whatever the hell she wants anyway, and that's, that's one of the reasons why I fuckin' worship her. Maybe time running out is a gift Hardwon: Wait a second, no, hit me. Murph [overlapping at the beginning]: [points at] Moonshine, and is going to cast Power Word Kill -- Jake (/Hardwon): I just run over to Moonshine with the, with the book, and even if it doesn't do anything I'd at least like to kneel down there and, uh, sob quietly. [Caldwell laughs] Hardwon: You like these, right? [Caldwell laughs louder] Hardwon: Read this book. Read, read that. And wake up. -- Murph: Uh, you see her fungal form, uhhh, falls apart around her - Hardwon [overlapping for the rest of the statement]: No no no no no no Murph: - like a dead flower losing its petals Hardwon: no no, no no no. -- Hardwon: Bring her back, and I'll come. Bring her back. I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift Moonshine [over static]: So, I think, if, I don't know where you went to, but if, if you can come back? Things, things are bad. I, I think we've only got maybe another week. Oh, I, oh, I - I gotta go. Hardwon, please! And give you every second I can find Hardwon: Moonshine, I'm - I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left, but that's - that's not important. I'm - I hear you. I'm coming, girl. -- Moonshine [over static]: Hardwon, it's damn good to hear your voice. And it'll be even better to see your face. Get here. And hope it isn't me who's left behind. Moonshine: I guess, if I'm being honest, I just don't know what it's gonna be like to know Bahumia without Hardwon Surefoot. [voice breaking] And there's a part of me that doesn't wanna find out what that feels like.

#naddpod #not another dnd podcast #bahumia #ba2mia #hardshine #hiiii han you made a passing comment about this song last time we were chatting and due to my insanity i decided to make this #it doesn't work completely and it's slightly incredibly tragic but i couldn't not do it once i had the idea #enjoy being insane about this podcast with you and happy hoglidays

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 9 months

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Promise [a dragon!Ezra x f!reader fic]

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Prospect

Pairing: Dragon!Ezra x f!reader (monsterfucker au)

Tags: Human/Monster Romance, Monsterfucking, initial dubcon (sort of a damned if you do damned if you don't deal), dragon fucks reader, Breeding, Oviposition, Stomach Bulge, PIV Sex, Loss of Virginity, Painful Sex, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, dragon!ezra is really good with his tongue, Squirting, All's well that ends well though, seriously I don't know how to warn for this fic guys, dragon biology is weird, DON'T LOOK AT ME! Light Bondage, drugging, pet names, I know I'm forgetting something help.

Summary: You are taken from you village by a dragon, and he has an obscene proposition for you.

Words: 7,446

You should have known to take cover when the birds stopped singing. You should have known when the sun was blocked out by a looming shadow gliding above you. You should have run for the trees, but you didn’t.

You barely hear the whoosh! before you're grabbed, a sharp claw pierces your shoulder and you cry out in pain, and then your legs leave the ground and you find yourself soaring above the ground, your basket dropped and left behind for someone to find, or not. You cry out from pain and fear, and you try to struggle, but the dragon is holding you securely with its feet, and the claw is still poking into your bleeding flesh. There is nothing that you can do.

Beating his wings in mid-air, he bends down, his large head right in front of you, and then he pushes his snout between your legs, and draws a deep breath. You shriek with fear and indignity, but he has already flicked out his long, forked tongue to taste your smell, evidently pleased, and is now flying off.

Knowing where it is he is taking you, your dread still grows when you see the dark castle perched upon the mountain. Seen in the distance on clear days, it has loomed over your village for centuries, out of reach and impossible to access by foot. That's the reason the dragon has survived for so long: no one can touch him. He swoops down a couple of times a year to steal a young woman who is never seen again. You grew up with the stories, saw him in the distance once as a young child, know three girls who were lost to the voracious monster. As you grew older, you heard the elders whisper of the dragon's appetites: he did not eat the girls, but ravaged them, then ate them. The thought was terrifying, not only because you were still unfamiliar with the art of physical love. You knew the mechanics of it, of course, you were a farm girl, after all, but had nothing but the sight of rutting animals to go after. The idea of a man doing the same to you seemed eerie, and a dragon... unfathomable.

Eyes tearing up from fear and wind alike, you start to shake as the dragon rises higher. The wound on your shoulder stings as he pulls you closer to his abdomen, as if to shield you from the cold. His scales are warm and soft, but you barely notice that. The castle comes ever closer, and he starts his descend over the courtyard. He releases you on the old cobbles but as you try to crawl away, he grabs you again, this time with his front paws, whisking you up against him with one arm and carrying you inside.

You have never been in a castle before, but don't pay any attention to the old, dusty decreptitude around you. When the dragon releases you in front of a fireplace which seems to be the size of your entire house, your first thought is to defend yourself against what is coming. You see a fire poker by the long-abandoned fireplace, and reach for it as you scramble to your feet. Brandishing it, you turn around to face the fiend that has stolen you away.

He is large, larger than a workhorse. Scales the colour of dirty sand and olives cover his back, neck, and the outsides of his legs and tail. His belly is a golden tan. His eyes are amber pools of intense staring at you, and above his right eye is a white scar, as if someone once pulled away several scales from his skin, and they never grew back the right colour.

He smells like red hot embers on a cold winter's night and when he hisses at the poker you're brandishing, you catch a whiff of blood and brimstone, but also something sweeter, flower-like. You hold the poker with two hands, ignore the twinge in your shoulder, and prepare yourself to fight to the death which, you are certain, will come very swiftly. Apart from fighting with your brothers when you were a little girl, you have never raised your fist at anyone.

The dragon regards you, his long neck muscles moving as he tilts his head, almost curiously. He starts as if about to lunge at you, and you raise the poker.

"Don't come any closer!"

He sits back, baring his fangs in a smirk.

"You cannot harm me with that poker."

His voice is smooth and smoky, and the fact that he speaks makes you halt. You lower your arms and the poker clatters to the stone floor.

"Please don't eat me," you whisper, a shiver running through you.

He scoffs. "You humans are barely tasty in a famine."

"What do you want from me?"

"I have a proposition for you. Should you not accept it, you can go, but be warned that nobody has made it down from the mountain alive." He seems indifferent with this fact.

"And if I accept?"

An almost sympathetical blink. "I would have to hurt you, but I would also reward you highly. If you survive."

You're afraid to ask, so you wait for the dragon to tell you what it is he needs from you. Your heart is drumming a hard tattoo against your ribs, and your mouth is dry, but you force yourself to meet his amber gaze.

"I need you to breed for me."

Your stomach drops and twists.

"What?" you gulp. Those molten gold eyes bore into you.

"I need you to be my broodmare. Dragons are rare for a reason, procreation is challenging enough for us as it is," he explains, as if you were in any state to understand what he was saying. "When no female dragons are available, we can impregnate human females, and have offspring through them."

"I would... carry b-baby dragons?" you stutter, the thought disturbing. The dragon gestures his head in a clear No.

"You would be an incubator for my eggs."

You must look confused, because he now sits down, and nods for you to do so as well. How your legs haven't buckled under you already, you have no idea. You sit down on the stone floor and pull your knees up in front of your chest, as if that could shield you from the horrendous affair you are being offered.

"When my kind goes for a long time, centuries, without meeting a mate, we change," he explains, voice serpentine with its sharp esses. "Males, such as myself, become capable of producing eggs. But the eggs still need a womb to carry them."

His eyes narrow a little. "You are untouched by man, are you not?"

The fortright question startles you so much that you just blurt out: "Yes."

"Yes," he hisses, now both sounding and looking very pleased. "I could smell your virginity."

"Is that what you did when you took me?" you ask quietly. "Checked to see if I'm a virgin? You can smell that?"

The dragon moves his shoulders as if he were shrugging. It looks eerily human.

"Only a maiden can bear dragon eggs."

You look down at your hands on top of your knees. They're dirty, the nails worn down by labour. You have worked from a very young age. Work is all you will know.

Is this your chance for something more?

"How would you reward me if I do this?" you ask, hardly believing yourself.

"I have throughout my long life procured considerable wealth consisting of gold and previous stones. You can have as much as you can carry, and more. I will personally return you to your village, or to any place you wish."

For someone such as yourself, who comes from nothing and will never amount to anything except someone's wife and the mother of a tribe of children, you could do worse. It's not that you're not scared, no, you're absolutely terrified.

But there's a tiny part of you that's intrigued. Maybe it's the part of you that denied the neighbour's boy a kiss, that spent a little too long hiding in the canopy of a tree when mother called for you to come and help with one chore or another, that takes the long road home from town just so that you can pass by the house of the village witch, the only woman you know who lives a life different from everybody else.

You are terrified, yes, but you agree. If this kills you, at least you will be able to say that you did something out of the ordinary.

"Yes," you say, looking into the dragon's eyes. "I'll do it."

He blinks slowly as he stands up and towers above you. His scales seem to glow as he bares his teeth in a way you cannot interpret.

"Come with me."

You stand up and walk before him in the direction he indicates, through a dark corridor to a staircase. The dragon nods for you to descend the stairs, and you do, until your reach a large, wooden door with rusty iron bolts. The dragon pulls the door open, and you step in.

If the rest of the castle is dark and decrepit, this chamber is luminous with polished gold candelabra, red velvet drapes, thick carpets that swallow your feet as you tread on them. The space is bigger than the biggest of homes back in the village, and sectioned into different areas. In one corner, there is a large, circular depression filled with luscious pillows and beautiful animal hides, and you realize that it must be the pit where the dragon rests. In another corner is a giant bed with a full canopy, all red velvet and golden tassels. You feel dizzy looking at all this wealth, but it's nothing compared to how you feel when you look over to the next section of the room.

There is a large oak table with chains and shackles in all four corners, chains hanging from the roof, a pillory, and a strange kind of chair with stirrups. When you realize what it could be used for, your face drains of colour and you have to sit down in the lush softness of the carpet.

The dragon, unperturbed, seems to expect this reaction. He slithers around the room, more agile than you'd expect considering his size, and stops to look at you.

"The bed is for you. I sleep over there." He nods towards the bolstered pit. "Be aware that I sleep lightly. Should you attempt to flee, I will awaken."

"I won't."

"That is wise. You will, however, want to."

It is not a threat, but a statement of fact. You slowly rise, your legs barely carrying you, and try to put on a brave face.

"Where do you want me?"

The dragon's tongue darts out to lick its lips. "You are eager."

"I want it over and done with."

He snorts out a hissing sound, almost like a chuckle. "It won't be done quickly. It is a process."

You frown, waiting for an explanation. He slowly comes up to you, fixing you with his gaze. Hypnotized, you stand still, even as he stands right in front of you. You don't move a muscle when he dips his head to the apex of your thighs, his tongue darting out to taste your smell. You don't breathe a word when he whisks you up in one clawed paw and takes you to the table. When he tells you to take your dress off, you obey without blinking. You're pliable when he bends you over the table, one huge clawed hand spread out over your upper back.

You only snap out of your passive state when he enters you, his member bursting you open with pain and humiliation. Your fingers claw at the table as you cry out, but you don't try to get away. You have decided to endure, and endure you will, even when the reptilian cock invades your inexperienced body, time and again, until the dragon snarls and you feel a wet heat spread within you.

The dragon takes care of your shoulder wound, treating it with herbs and binding it with cloth. He brings you food. You don't know from where, or how, but he brings you fresh fruit and berries, and the juiciest parts of cooked meat. He brings you cold water to drink, and when you have eaten and drunk, he takes you again. This repeats over what you think are the next few days. You eat, drink, sleep, and the dragon empties his balls in you to prepare you for breeding. He does not have to force you, but his size and lack of elegance does not make it particularly enjoyable for you.

You sleep in the large bed, larger than any bed you have ever seen, softer than the thickest sheep wool, and when you wake up, the dragon is there again, sniffing between your legs. You're naked on your belly, legs open, and you twitch when the long tongue flicks at your slimy folds. A shiver runs through you, but not of fear: this is something new, something unexpected. You have earlier felt a flicker of pleasure at the way the creature's jagged cock dragged through your tight hole, but you have been unable to verbalize it for him.

"Nearly done," the dragon proclaims, his breath hot on your skin. The rich mattress dips behind you when he climbs onto the bed.

"Wait," you gasp, looking back. He stops still and snorts in annoyance.

"Are you dishonouring our agreement?"

"No," you lick your lips nervously, "I just... can you..."

Embarrassment burns on your cheeks as you try to find words that you have never spoken, never thought you would speak to a creature such as the one behind your naked form.

"I think it would be more... en... enjoyable f-for me... if you... do that again?"

The dragon tilts its head as it regards you, eyes narrowing. You can't return his gaze, so you turn your face to the front again.

"With your... tongue," you whisper. "Down there."

He doesn't move, and you regret saying anything.

"Forget about it," you quickly shake your head. "It was nothing. Just forget it."

The mattress moves as the dragon's weight is redistributed, and then you feel his steaming breath against you anew.

"If it will make mating easier for you, I am obliged to make the attempt," he murmurs, before poking his snout against your sex. His tongue lashes out, wet and warm and quick, against your soiled centre, and you feel a titillation grow inside you. When he does it again, pushing his tongue against you and inside you, your breathing grows heavy. His tongue slides more easily than his cock, broad though it is, and its warmth feels comforting and soothing on your stinging walls. When he licks you again, he hits the little nub that you've barely dared to touch yourself, and a jolt of pleasure cuts through you.

"Oh!" Your gasp is filled with a surprised delight, and when you feel his tongue on you again, you push back shamelessly. Your fingers claw at the silk sheets, dirty nails looking so out of place on the expensive fabric, you stare at them in wonder as each lick provides a new sensation for you, a new limit crossed. Your eyes close as you bite down on your lower lip, whining quietly at how good you feel, how strange and adventurous. When the dragon stops, you protest loudly.

"No, please, don't stop, it feels so good!"

He grunts impatiently, but heeds your wish for more, his clawed hands grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs wider for better access to your core. You reward him with a loud moan when his tongue slides inside you again, wiggling and probing, before pulling out to swirl over that nub where the sensations are gathering. The intensity rises for each lick and you have no idea what will happen if he doesn't stop, you only know that you don't want him to stop, he must go on, you must find out.

"Please," you moan into the bedding, "please, more, don't stop, give me more!"

His agile tongue speeds up, saliva and spend mixing with your own juices as your muscles twitch. Your body starts to act in conflict with your brain, pushing and pulling, wanting to escape the barrel of explosives that seems to have caught fire deep inside you while also waiting, wanting for it to tear you apart. When the pleasure comes to a combustion inside you, your dripping cunt throbbing around nothing, you let out a wail that echoes through the chamber.

The dragon stops, sniffing with appreciation at your wetness before he mounts you, his long member piercing you promptly. He ruts into you, a groan emanating from deep within his chest, and you marvel at how different he feels, how good he feels when your cunt is still pulsating from your release. When he spills inside of you, he does so to your cries of approval. His growl lets you know that this was a new experience for him as well, and he enjoyed it.

Your cunt is full of his spend, and he sniffs at you after pulling out.

"Not long now, my breeder," he lets you know, and he sounds satisfied. You hum, gloriously exhausted and wondrous after your climax.

If this is how every time is going to feel like, you don't want it to end.

The dragon leaves you to sleep, and returns with provisions.

"You need your strength," he tells you cryptically, and you choose not to dwell on the meaning of that. When you've eaten, he takes you again, but only after slaking your need for another high.

The chamber lacks windows, so you have no idea what time it is, or how long you have been in the castle. You have rested more in the last day - days? - than you have in your entire life. All you do is sleep in the luxurious bed, eat fresh fruit and rich meat, and spread your legs for the dragon which, now that he has learned how to please you, is nothing but heavenly.

You awaken to a sweet ache between your legs, the thick cream that the creature has spilled inside of you creating a full and sticky sensation. And warm. You feel warmer than you ever have in your life, yet you are not sweating. It's like your insides are becoming to the dragon's eggs what the large canopy bed is to you: a snug, safe place to rest. When you sit up, your cunt oozes with the juice, much in the same way as your monthly bleeding, yet you are not uncomfortable.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen, and you suppose he is procuring provisions, wherever he goes to do so. Slowly, you inch out of the bed, looking around for your dress but not finding it. Instead, your take a sheet and drape it around yourself before slowly making your way around the room, exploring. The table, where he first took you. The pillory, the chair with the stirrups. That one makes you blush, even after what you have experienced so far. If you'd sit in it, and put your feet in the stirrups, anyone standing before you would see right up your -

The heavy door opens, and the dragon slithers in. He stops when he sees you out of bed, his nostrils flaring. You think you detect a whiff of smoke. The scar over his eye seems to shine.

"I was just looking," you tell him hurriedly. "I'm... curious."

"That much is evident," the dragon agrees as he closes the door. He then watches you as you walk over to the table, your hand reaching out to gingerly touch the shackles. You look at him, asking with no words. His amber gaze does not waver.

"Restraining is necessary in the insertion phase."

"Why?"

"Because it hurts."

A chill runs down your spine, and you ask no more. Instead, you run your fingers over the coarse iron of one cuff.

"It is getting to be the time," the dragon adds, and you nod.

"I suppose."

"Is there anything you need? Food? Water?"

You look up, see sympathy flash by in his eyes.

"What is your name?"

He frowns, like he doesn't understand the question, so you repeat it.

"You must have a name?"

"It's... Ezra. My name is Ezra."

"Ezra," you repeat quietly. The two syllables are soft and sharp at the same time. The name fits its bearer.

He emits a low sound, almost like a purr. You raise your brows at him, and he stops.

"I have not heard my name spoken in a very long time," he admits, lowering his head, as if embarrassed. You smile at him then, taken by the sudden show of vulnerability.

"Ezra," you repeat, and slowly make your way across the room to him. Up close, you smell blood on him, and see red splattered over his shiny scales. He must have eaten. You prefer not to think how, or what.

Tentatively, you raise one hand, placing it on his neck. It's warm and surprisingly smooth, with tough muscles moving under the skin. They twitch when you move your hand up his neck. Blinking, he softly meets your gaze before his eyes fall half shut as you caress his head and trail your fingers over the ridges that crowns his head.

Ezra's tongue darts out as he regards you, his pupils dilated. Standing in front of him, the air feels the way it does right before a thunderstorm: thick with crackling energy, buzzing, uneasy to breathe.

Without warning, he picks you up and takes you to the table, where he lays you down and peels you out of the sheet. He then parts your legs, and nudges his head between your thighs, tongue already flicking at your bud, like he's eager to please you. Your low hum of approval quickly rises into a moan when the dragon - Ezra - pushes his tongue inside you, reaching deeper than you ever thought possible. You can feel him touch some internal barrier deep in your belly, and you start to squirm as the pleasure borders on pain. Ezra's long, clawed fingers close around your thighs to keep you in place, and he pushes his snout against you. The ridges on the bridge of his nose and muzzle rub against you in the most delectable way, and you push back in search of the right spot, the one spot that will make you soar. Finding it, you shamelessly reach for his head, taking a firm hold and keeping him in place as you start to grind against him while he fucks your cunt with his tongue. Your climax arrives quickly, strongly, your wail echoing in the chamber. Ezra releases your legs and while you’re still trembling, your head thrown back and your eyes closed, he shackles you to the table. You barely even feel the first cold snap of metal around your wrist, but when both your hands are cuffed, you open your eyes to see him close a cuff around your ankle.

“Is this necessary?” you ask weakly, your heart missing a beat. Ezra’s nostrils flare as he looks down at you.

“You will hurt,” he tells you flatly. “Many before you have tried to escape.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Ezra climbs up on the table, and you see his cock for the first time. You can barely hold back a gasp.

It’s long, much longer than on any farm animal you’ve seen. The tip is almost pointy, and the underside of the entire length is ridged, much like his head is. No wonder it has been difficult to take.

But what really makes you stare is how the tip seems almost dilated, like the opening of an animal ready to give birth. It is only now that you seem to realize that not only will Ezra have to pass over the eggs to you: you will have to accept them into you, and that is certain to not be comfortable.

“Are you ready?” he asks tightly, like he is unsure of his own dedication to the endeavour. You whisper your yes, and he pushes into you.

“It will be a distressing experience for both of us,” he tells you in a low grunt, “and I wish I could promise you that it will be over shortly, but I would be lying. When my kind mate, we stay together for hours.”

You whimper, the chains holding you in place clanking a little as you move your feet. More accustomed to his size by now, you expect him to start fucking you like he has up until now but instead, he pushes further into you, reaching that limit inside you which you feel is the absolute boundary of what you can take.

He pushes pash, the tip entering your womb, and you wail, your thighs trying to draw together, shut him out, prevent him from going any deeper. But your legs are bound, and all you have is Ezra’s large hand on your thigh, stroking slowly as if to comfort you.

“Ezra,” you whimper, “it’s too much.”

“I know, my pet,” he rumbles low, “it hurts me too.”

Something pushes against your cunt, already full of him, and you sob loudly when Ezra jerks his hips, and you feel the unmistakable round form of an egg pass through his cock, lodged inside you. It’s splitting you open, and your press your eyes shut hard in a futile attempt at keeping the tears away.

The egg, roughly the size of that of a chicken, moves slowly, so slowly on its way to your womb. Ezra growls, the smell of sulfur grows stronger, and he presses your thighs down to keep your still when you squirm.

“Please, Ezra,” you plead with him, “make me feel good. Just a little, with your tongue.”

“I am afraid I cannot do that,” he grunts with remorse, “we both need to stay as still as possible for the eggs to safely make it into your womb.”

He lowers his head to your chest, licking around your nipples.

“But I can do something else for you,” he tells you before baring his teeth, and sinking his fangs into your soft breast. You shriek at the pain, panic budding in you as you kick against the restraints.

“You will feel better in a moment, my pet,” he soothes you with little licks around the wound. “My bite is venomous, and you will soon feel less pain.”

“You p-poisoned me?” you gasp, voice weakening already as the venom spreads in your blood.

“I only gave you a small dose to make you relax,” he promises, and then he gets a little blurry. Your eyelids feel heavy, so you let them fall shut as you surrender with a helpless moan, finding some comfort in the fact that the torment on Ezra’s face is just as real as your slowly dulling pain.

When the first egg finally settles into your womb, you’re still flushed and glistening with sweat, despite the anaesthetic. Ezra pulls halfway out, the ridges of his cock scraping at your slick walls, making you keen in sudden pleasure. He ruts into you a couple of times before lodging himself back at your core, and staying there.

You lose track of time and eggs. For each one that Ezra deposits in you, he soothes your stretched cunt with slow drags of his cock, teasing you just enough to keep going. He swirls his tongue around your nipples to alleviate your distress. You feel it as through water: everything is distant and muffled.

He's breathing heavily by the time he passes the last egg into your womb. His breath is hot against your skin, and when he slides out of you, he does so with a rumbled groan. He then sniffs at your swollen opening, tongue flitting at you, making you flinch and moan.

“Ezra…”

“It is done, my good breeder,” he murmurs, and you hear from his dazed words how exhausted he is. You lift your head. The world spins, but you can still see the bulge of your stomach. Blinking, you try to understand what it is you see. It is your stomach, but… it’s huge. You feel heavy, full, mangled. You want to ask Ezra how many eggs there are in you, but your tongue is thick in your mouth. When he releases you from the shackles, you remain where you are, spread-eagled, too dazed to move. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, where he gently lays you down and covers your body with silk sheets and animal hides before you start feeling chilled. He then retires to his own pit, and you dimly hear him snarl as he collapses into the bedding. Only then do you succumb to darkness and a dreamless, deep sleep.

When you wake up, you are nestled against Ezra’s side, his tail slung protectively around you. The first thing you become aware of is his strongly beating heart, so close to your ears, and then his warmth. Your head is heavy and your body inflamed, and when you roll over onto your back, you become aware of your bulging stomach, and how the weight of its contents are pushing down on your organs.

The gasp that escapes you is filled with alarm, and Ezra is immediately there, awake, sniffing at your belly.

“You are okay,” his hushed voice reassures you. “The eggs are alive. You are alive.”

“Why wouldn’t I be alive?” you ask, unsure if you want to know the answer. Ezra slants his head.

“The previous ones died. Or the eggs died.”

You shudder, then try to sit up, but with a gentle push of his nose, Ezra makes you lie back down.

“You need rest, lots of rest,” he tells you. “I will bring you food and drink.”

“How did I get here?” you want to know. The last thing you remember was falling asleep on the bed. Ezra puffs out a breath, like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You joined me during the night. You came here, lay down next to me, and pulled my arm over you.”

You don’t know what to make of that answer, so you remain quiet. Shortly after, Ezra leaves to procure food for you.

Over the coming days, you are treated like a princess of the tales that your mother told you as a child. You rest, eat, drink, and only get up to go relieve yourself. Ezra carries you to the caverns underneath the castle, where you bathe in ancient hot springs. He fertilizes your womb continuously by fucking you, but does so carefully so as not to disturb the fragile eggs, and he pleasures you with his tongue each time.

Despite the tight, heavy burden in your belly, you have never felt better, been treated better, eaten better. Even with your elevated temperature and slightly dazed condition, you wouldn’t change this for anything else. Ezra dotes on you more than your own mother ever did, and you start to think that it may not just be because you are carrying his eggs. No, the dragon seems to actually like you, enjoy your company, your body. The way he goes out of his way to satisfy you, finding new methods to help you reach the blissful heights of ecstasy, the way he makes sure you are ready before he takes you.

“Ezra?” you ask him one night when you are curled up on your side, tucked against him.

“Yes, my pet?”

“How many are there?”

He knows immediately what you mean.

“Seven.”

You let that sink in for a moment.

“Is that a lot?”

“It is a lot,” he acknowledges. “The average is four.”

“Four?” Your head pops up, and Ezra hisses softly against your sudden movement. You lay your head back down and Ezra is at once at your belly, sniffing and prodding.

“Don’t do that,” you groan. “Stop poking it like that, it’s so uncomfortable. I can feel them move.”

He hisses again; a reprimand at your tone. You know by now that he doesn’t like it when you talk back at him – although you suspect that he secretly enjoys it, the same way he seems to enjoy it when you pull him into your sex. The way he takes you now is also different, less ferocious. He seems to derive pleasure from it, not just fucking you as a means of procreation. Since you were impregnated, you have slept next to him, finding his proximity reassuring. You imagine that he appreciates having you close by, as well, from the way he curls himself protectively around you when you lay down to sleep. He doesn’t seem to want to be away from you for long, always returning with your food as swiftly as possible. He keeps examining you, smelling your sex and your belly, clearly sensing the condition of the eggs, of which you have no perception at all. You simply carry their weight inside you, but you have no idea of how they are doing. Ezra, however, keeps close track.

You wake up from a nap with Ezra’s large head between your legs, sniffing and prodding.

“Ezra…?” you murmur, your heartbeats echoing in your cunt as his touch starts to heat up your core.

“They’re ready,” he tells you, amber eyes glowing as he looks up at you. “I can sense it, they’re all ready.”

You sit up, one hand on the curve of your abdomen as you wait for him to tell you how to proceed. He picks you up, gently, and takes you to the strange chair with the stirrups. The idea of baring yourself for him is no longer awkward: he has already seen all of you, touched you everywhere.

“This should provide you with the most comfort,” he explains as he helps you put your feet up. “It will also help with the passing of the eggs.”

You nod, unsure about what to expect. Ezra’s nostrils flare, he keeps licking his lips, and you realize that he’s nervous. From what you’ve put together, no one has ever reached this point of the reproduction process, so it’s perfectly understandable that he is worried about how it’ll go.

“It’s okay,” you tell him quietly, despite not knowing what’s about to happen. “I’m sure the eggs will be fine.”

His blinks in surprise at your words before sinking his mouth between your legs.

“I want you to feel good, pet.”

You surrender to his tongue, so familiar to you by now. When your body starts to tighten in preparation for your climax, you feel a pressure against the opening of your womb.

“Ezra…!” you keen, getting a growl in return.

“Let it go, pet, just let it go.”

Your pressure culminates with swift strokes of his agile tongue, and the massive compression slips through the tight mouth of your womb, your quivering cunt transporting it through the slick, craving canal. Reaching the final threshold to the outside world, the egg unexpectedly rushes you towards a new crest and is released in a splash of warm fluid. For a second you fear you’ve soiled yourself, but you cannot smell urine, only the warm, mossy fragrance of your own sex. Your legs shake as you draw a deep, trembling breath, and you hear a very pleased murmur from Ezra.

“A perfect egg. Well done, my sweet pet, well done.”

You catch your breath as he takes the egg to his sleeping pit, placing it on a soft hide and covering it with velvet blankets. He returns to you, sniffs at your belly and gives it a soft prod before curling his tongue around your nipples. You feel your blood heating again, the pressure against your core, and you moan Ezra’s name. He nuzzles your neck before licking down your body to your weeping cunt, where he once again start to coax a release, and with that an egg, from you.

Seven times does Ezra bring you to the stars, and when seven eggs are resting securely in his pit, you are annihilated. Your cunt is aching from pleasure and labour, you are swimming in sweat, your voice is lost due to your loud wailing.

You whimper when Ezra finally helps you down from the chair. Your legs buckle under you but you fall softly against the dragon’s strong, safe chest. He scoops you up and brings you to the hot springs under the castle. He brings you cold water to drink as you bathe and clean yourself, then takes you back to the chamber where he lets you sleep.

Once again, you wake up disoriented, and drag yourself to the pit where Ezra has curled up around his eggs.

Your eggs.

He grunts when you nestle in between his arms, but licks your cheek and resettles. Lulled back to sleep by the sound of his slowly beating heart, your last thought is of how you never want to leave.

It is clear to you that Ezra’s concerns have shifted from you to the seven eggs. He fusses over them like he did over you, and while he’s not dismissive of you, you know that the time has come for you to be returned to your village.

“When will they hatch?” you ask Ezra as you watch him re-swaddle the eggs.

“A decade from now.”

“Oh.” You’re more surprised than you perhaps should be, given what you have learned about dragons. “So it’ll be a while before someone comes down from this castle and calls me mother.”

He chuckles, a strange sound to come from him. You sit at the edge of his sleeping pit, hands folded in your lap, your old, threadbare dress feeling unfamiliar and uncomfortable after the time you’ve spent naked. Your cunt throbs in a distant memory of pleasure when you look at the dragon.

“Well…” you sigh, “I guess it’s time for me to leave.”

“I will take you to my treasure chamber,” Ezra immediately offers. “You can pick out whatever you want, however much you want.”

“I don’t… I don’t need treasure. What am I to do with treasures?”

He frowns, climbing out of the pit and sitting next to you.

“Are not treasures coveted by humans as much as by dragons?”

“Yes, but…” You bite your lower lip, your eyes fixed on the eggs. They’re the colour of wet sand, splashed with gold. They’re beautiful, and you find yourself hoping that they will make it. Ten years is a long time.

Ezra snorts, and you smell smoke. He seems agitated with you, so you stand up.

“I will take my reward and go back to my village,” you tell him stoically, knowing that there is no other way for this to end.

He brings you two chests of gold coins and jewels, and looking at them you know that the riches before you is enough to keep your entire village in comfort for the next hundred years. The thought is comforting, but you still mourn your departure.

“You are not happy,” Ezra notes. You blush a little, hoping he won’t think you ungrateful.

“I guess I’ve enjoyed myself here,” you confess quietly. “It has been… curious.”

“Would you do it again?” he asks you, and the answer is an easy one.

“Yes.”

“What if… you were to return next year?”

You lift your chin och look questioningly at him.

“My kind can lay eggs every year,” he elaborates. “If I should need a breeder next year… would you come?”

“I would.”

“There is a condition.”

“Name it.” Your heart is beating faster at the prospect of returning, and you are ready to do anything for the opportunity.

“Human semen will ruin a womb for dragon eggs. You must not give yourself to a man,” Ezra states, his tail twitching. “If you stay untouched by man, I will come for you next year.”

“As if any man’s cock would be able to satisfy me now,” you laugh, the idea as preposterous to you now as incubating dragon eggs in your womb was before you came here. Ezra’s lips curl up in a smile.

“You found great satisfaction in my cock, I gather.”

“And your tongue,” you blurt out, averting your eyes as you blush. Ezra lowers his head and pushes at your shoulder.

“Would you permit me to bestow upon you another parting gift?” he murmurs, his tail sliding over your leg. You swallow tightly, and nod.

“Then remove your dress.”

He takes you to bed, where he takes his time to satisfy you with his mouth. No longer driven by the need to breed, he instead revels in your moans and praises, listens in your gasps and pleads, denies you the release you crave, chuckles low in his chest when you curse his name, then attacks you anew with his tongue, lapping at your hungry cunt until you’re writhing and wailing in pleasure. As soon as you have caught your breath, you surprise him by reaching for his cock. Slowly, you pass your hand over the ridges of it, marvelling the heft of it and how your hand cannot reach around it. Ezra hisses low, like a purr, then growls when you kiss the tip of his cock.

“Pet…”

You look up, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“Is this wrong?”

He grunts, a ripple running through his scales. “Nobody has ever done that to me.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will do it again.”

You take the tip of his cock into your mouth and try to imitate what he did to you with his tongue. Ezra growls again, his tail slithers around you, his claws pierce the mattress underneath you. The salty, rocky taste of him grows strong as you take both your hands to your help, moving them along his jagged length as you twist your tongue over the flared head. Ezra twitches and claws at the sheets that rip with sharp cries. His hisses grow short and laboured, the taste of him grows overwhelming, but you don’t stop until he pushes you away.

“I… appreciate your efforts,” he wheezes, his cock twitching as you stroke it with a wicked smile on your face. “I would, however, prefer to let my cock know your tight cunt one last time before we part ways.”

“I would, too,” you agree softly, and let go of his cock before you turn around and get up on all fours. In one thrust, he drives in his whole length, then settles into a slow drag that tickles your cunt in just the righ way. His hot breath is on your neck and when you twist your head back, his warm tongue passes over your face. You part your lips and he slips his tongue inside. You taste pepper and moss, and you choke on your own moans when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. His forelegs are crowding you on either side of your arms, his cock is filling you, and when he raises his head again, his breathing is heavy.

“Harder,” you ask breathlessly, chin dripping with his saliva and yours. “Harder, more, please, Ezra.”

He obeys you with a growl, sliding his tail between your legs and pushing you down on it. As he ruts into you faster, your bud grinds against the scaly skin of his tail, sending sparks of fierce pleasure along your spine. You cry out his name, clawing at the sheets in the same way he is, pant your Yes! Yes! Yes! until you shudder all over, your cunt gushing in heavenly spasms. Ezra roars so loudly that your shoulders instinctively shoot up towards your ears. Your bones tremble with the low bass of it, and your cunt fills with his hot, sticky seed.

He licks you clean after, teasing your sensitive folds with that tongue that you’ve come to love.

“Are you not terribly lonely here?” you ask, drowsy after your release. Ezra’s tongue trails a wet path from your cunt to your breast.

“I will be now.”

“I could stay?”

“This is no place for you.”

You reach out a hand and caress his cheek.

“But you’ll come for me in a year?”

He blinks softly. “I promise.”

#ezra prospect #ezra au #ezra x reader #dragon!ezra #my fic

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strige-art · 1 year

Text

Nothing, you'll have to excuse me, I'm still in an acute fangirl phase.

Rebels really hurt me!!!

Filoni, a hint: Ezra has been camping in Wild Space for years.

Let's say he found another Jedi temple connected to the World Among the Worlds and devised a way to pull his master out of that damned explosion without causing the end of the galaxy? Yes?

I mean, that makes more sense than Maul's resurrection or why Boba Fett wasn't digested by the Sarlac!

Pretty please? *_*

Star Wars Rebels digital fanart.

Hera and Kanan, pre Rebels, in the Ghost galley, just woken up.

Kanan is leaning against the kitchen counter, wearing only his sleeping trousers and his hair down.

He draws Hera to him, who has her back to him, and is about to place a kiss on her bare shoulder.

Hera is wearing only her underwear and one of Kanan's shirts. In her right hand she holds a mug of Caf and around her wrist is Kanan's lace.

Kanan's mug, meanwhile, is resting on the shelf in the foreground.

#kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanan x hera #kanera #star wars rebels #star wars fanart #star wars #a new dawn

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prolix-yuy · 11 months

Note

I'm shyly peeking around the corner of your beautiful Bangathon.

Spinning the wheel brought me one of my favorites: SPOONING.

Pedro boy...I can't decide between Ezra, Pero, and Oberyn but think you'd do heavenly things with any of them.

I'm so glad you're using your conference time for filth. I'm so proud of you. <3

Adira! Welcome to the Bangathon! Spooning is such an underrated position, and while I love it for all the boys, Ezra is calling to me...

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Position: Spooning

Word Count: 999 (this pleases me)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), little bit of oral (f receiving), fingering, biting and drawing blood, rough sex, a moment of consensual somnophilia (though it's a little gray in the beginning).

Notes: Oh my god, I meant for this to be a sweet little thing because your writing is so soft and gentle and then Ezra just went and made it filthy. I am hiding my face in my hands. This is like someone dropping off the ingredients for a birthday cake and I bake a huge anatomical penis instead. Oh boy.

There’s only so much a man can be expected to endure in tight quarters for so many cycles, and you’re pushing him to the edge of sanity.

First it was the showers, too noisy for him not to imagine how the water traced your curves.

Then it was the heat, stripping you both down to compression shorts, a cropped bra barely covering the sumptuous breasts he wanted to savor.

But now you’re testing the last threads of his resolve, curled on your side slicked with sweat and sleep. The flimsy blanket slipped to pool in the hollow of your back, the gusset of your panties peeking from between your thighs.

For a moment Ezra contemplates if just the sight would be enough for him to get off, circling his cock inside his boxers and letting a few pumps bring him to attention. But the cotton is damp and sticks to your lips, so close he could trace them with his bionic fingers. Your body calls to him, shifting ever so slightly to arch your back more.

“Kevva be damned,” he rasps to himself, dropping to his knees and leaning down to nose at your cunt. The first inhale of your sex pulls a groan deep from his chest, rumbling too loud. He’ll wake you at this rate, and his cock can’t decide what he enjoys better, your body sleep-pliant and unaware or your wide eyes staring up at him.

Another inhale, and this time he runs his tongue along your slit, pressing in where your clit should be. A sharp gasp alerts him.

“Forgive me, nightingale, but you have driven me wild for too long to deny a taste,” he bemoans, not an ounce of apology in his rakish voice.

“Ezra,” you breathe out, and to his delight you grind against his touch, pressing an open kiss between your thighs and nuzzling his nose in.

“A sweeter word has never fallen from your lips,” he husks, dragging his prominent nose up between your cheeks and following the path of your spine, stopping to drop a messy lick here, a ring of teeth there. You squirm under his touch but don’t shy away, keening until his lips finally press to your neck. He fits himself against your back, the thick humidity making your skin slide.

“Ezra, please, I want…” you plead, and his cock aches at how wrecked you sound from just the simplest touches. He cannot wait to see how much more desperate he can make you.

“I know what you want, my little nightingale,” he coos, tucking his bionic arm under your head while sliding his fingers along your stomach. Your skin is hot under the tips, catching on little patches of hair and the ridges of scars. You both had stories to share with the maps of your body, and Ezra could finally learn them.

“Want you inside me,” you whisper, and he has to bite his lower lip to stop from taking you right then.

“Can’t say that so sweetly, I’ll ruin this if you let me,” he teases, cupping your cunt and roughly rubbing. You back into his hips, his jutting cock nestling into your plump ass. Dropping his forehead to your shoulder, he ruts in time with his wandering fingers. Slipping underneath your panties, he pulls a surprised moan from your throat when he dips two thick fingers inside, cursing at the slick tightness.

“Do you know how hard it has been, resisting this sweet nectar?” he growls, curling his fingers to shred against the devastating spot inside you. He wants you clenching and wailing, soaking him and begging for more. He needs your body like air, if only you’d give it to him.

“Then don’t,” you toss back, blood roaring in Ezra’s ears. “Don’t resist.”

Ezra has been a better man of late, but hearing your permission - Kevva, even your desire - has him yanking your wrist into your panties, roughly pulling them to the side.

“Fuck, touch yourself,” he orders, using the wetness coating his fingers to slick his cock. Sliding the head through your folds, your keening moan is all it takes for him to sheath himself in one powerful stroke.

He can’t wait, as soon as he’s in your blissful heat he’s snapping his hips, every thrust exploding inside his groin. Planting one foot, he cages you in, pressing you tight to his chest, snarling into the shell of your ear. Every punch of his cock into your g-spot tears out another ragged wail, but once he sets the pace you’re pushing back against him just as greedily.

“My sweet companion, wet and ready for me the moment I want it. How many nights did you wait for me, hoping for this cock inside you?” Ezra covers your hand, fingers sliding together in the mess to stroke your clit.

“Every…fuck, every night, Ez. Wanted it…every night,” you gasp, and if the hunger inside him wasn’t raging by then it was an inferno at your admission. Sinking his teeth into your shoulder, he yanks you back against his rapid thrusts, white heat blossoming as his jaw clamps hard. Copper suddenly dances on his tongue, a sharp shock that makes him release, but in that moment you cum around his cock, tossing him over the edge to spill inside your pulsing cunt. Both of you gasp and tremble in this embrace, Ezra’s eyes finally opening to see two small beads of blood where his incisors bit in too deep. He laps his tongue over them, followed by a softer kiss than he thought it possible for his cautious heart.

“Nightingale, in my lust I’ve been a little too rough with you,” he murmurs, hissing when you slide off him and turn in his arms. Studying your face, he preens at the quirk of your smile.

“Good, then I can leave my own marks on you next.”

Ezra thanks Kevva for long trips across the galaxy and his undeserved luck.

“Anywhere that delights you.”

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect fic #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect x you #prospect fanfiction

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wannab-urs · 8 months

Text

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 17

Hello darlings!

It was another big week - 24 fics! I should really start sleeping at night instead of reading until 3 am.... oh well. Enjoy the fruits of my sleep disorder!

You can find the Spreadsheet in all it's organizational glory here and all of my previous recommendations here.

Recommendations below the pedro meme (created by @gasolinerainbowpuddles)

Ravish -a Joel series by @psychedelic-ink

I've read a few like... cam girl/chat service/sex work type AUs and I have to say this is one of my favorites. I really really love the little Dieter cameos. And a little birdie (the literal author) told me he may be making an appearance in a future installment??? I am so excited ugh. Joel is like... stunningly hot in this despite being the kind of guy that falls in love with a cam girl. Yummy yummy

Seven minutes in heaven (the bathroom) -a Frankie one shot by @tieronecrush

A fun twist on the bathroom quickie trope. Frankie is so filthy in this fic and it is fantastic. I really like the ending also. Made me giggle

A Savage Place - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

SUB JOEL MY BELOVED!!! This is one of those more realistic sub joels where he's confused as fuck about liking it, but he really clearly needs someone to take control for a little while. I really fucking love this so much. (there's pegging in part 2 @ my pegging enthusiasts <3 ) Reader is hot as hell, also. GOD I love this.

Whistle in the Dark - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Romantic cucking <3 No but okay the like basic plot is that your husband is a piece of shit who cheats on you so you like forcibly cuck him with Joel and Joel has feelings and it's sooooo hot and so good and like... affirming? and sweet? And your husband deserves to have his dick cut off bc he does something real fucked up, but having to watch Joel Miller dick his wife down GOOD is a start.

He hurt me but it felt like true love - a Joel one shot by @iamasaddie

Mean sexy Joel is pissy cause he found your dildo and he's gonna make that your problem. It's so hot. Vaginal DP????? GOD DAMN. Someone said DP isn't depraved a while back (eyeroll). They should read this. This is beautifully depraved

Feral Woman - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

This series has me feeling so many emotions. Watching FW/reader/Julia/Bug heal over time and learn to trust again is so fucking good. Susan is the light of my motherfuckin life I love that woman with all my heart. This series is GORGEOUS

Endless Night - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

yes i basically worked my way through Puddles' masterlist can you fucking blame me look at this shit. Anyway. EnNi reader/OC is, on the surface, the sunshine to Joel's grump. But the thing I love about her is that she's got this underlying darkness that adds so much depth to the grumpy x sunshine trope. I'm also eating up the borderline enemies to lovers dynamic going on here. Joel is such a dick lmao. I'm so excited for the rest of this fic.

All the good girls go to hell - an Ezra one shot by @psychedelic-ink

DUBCON with PRIEST EZRA yesssssss. The Haunted Hoedown is the gift that keeps on giving. This fic is so fucking HOT. Ezra as a priest seems so wrong and so right at the same time. This is excellent. I'd gladly go to hell for this man UNF.

Three's a crowd - a Marcus P/Javi P one shot by @agentmarcuspike

Marcus motherfuckin cute ass baby Pike watches Javier Peña fuck you. Yeah. Cucking Marcus Pike. That's what this is. Marcus is also characterized perfectly. Like this is so fucking cute actually. And it's really hot. obviously.

Begging for you to take my hand - a Joel series by @jupiter-soups

This fic is driving me up the wall in the best way. Joel is a big dumb idiot man who is like... not emotionally intelligent enough to realize he's in the wrong while trying to do what he perceives to be the "right thing." Here's what I commented verbatim on part 2 "Joel 'You Deserve Better Than Me' Miller back on his bullshit. I love this so much. Joel is so sad and so stupid i kinda wanna hit him." So if you're like me and you like to watch Joel be a sad little idiot who is also super hot.... this is the one

Refuge - a Joel series by @cool-iguana

GAH THIS IS SO GOOD!!! This fic really situates you in reader's head. Like you feel disoriented and frustrated and scared when she does and you feel like a powerful badass when she does and it's SO good. Basically in this one your husband joel shows up with some kid who is def not your kid in Jackson after you've been there for a hot minute and it's a big wtf moment. There's some other shit going on that I don't wanna spoil but like... this is so good. I know I keep saying that but GOT DAMN

Exposed - a Javi P one shot by @atticrissfinch

big fat dub con warning on this one. I so rarely see Javi written as a creep and I really fucking enjoyed it. I would like to humbly request more creep!professor!javi p

The Apprentice - a Dave York one shot by @pedropascalsx

This has like mafia!au vibes while not really being that, but what I mean by that is that the big bad murder daddy who you thought you'd be scared of saves you from murder father (ur dad). I really liked the characterization of Dave in this and the smut was HOT

Stockings - a Joel one shot by @atticrissfinch

Daddy kink daddy kink daddy kink. This is inspired by a photo that literally looks like denim shirt joel is helping you put your stockings on. This fic manages to be adorable and aggressively hot at the same time. I am in love.

Slumber - a Joel one shot by @cool-iguana

I love a good somno fic. also this is literally their 2nd fic they ever wrote and it's so good?! TALENT. There was a thing in this that caught me off guard bc I fully did not read the warnings, but I was not at all mad about it... HOT

Yearling - a Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

Holy motherfuckin shit balls dude. I'm noticing that I'm reading a lot of Reader-Who-Is-Extremely-Traumatized fics this week and I refuse to examine why that is but also they all have handled the heavy content very very well. Anyway. Reader is super duper good with horses and Joel is so soft and Ellie is so Ellie and I love all of this. I really love the way Kit builds the world in her fics. Like the opening chapter and then the way Bambi's back story is built up and the spaces that she exists in, they're all so vivid and good and real to me. I'm so fucking in love with the way Kit includes these details like reader singing and playing music, joel's coat, the light on in the house when Bambi is gone. It feels like nothing is there just to be there, like it's all important and it has a significant impact on the story and man... (also if you're worried about starting a longfic that's not finished, it updates like twice a fuckin week. Fast writer lol).

The Cabin in the Woods- a Dave York one shot by @xdaddysprincessxx

Getting kidnapped by Dave York and held in his cabin in the woods. Dark dark dark fic and so fucking well written. Love this <3

Isn't She a Doll? - a Dave York one shot by @proxima-writes

You are Dave's perfect little housewife and that is definitely the only thing going on here. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. (just read it)

Who do you call? - a Joel one shot by @chloeangelic

Your hot neighbor Joel helps you get rid of a spider! How sweet of him. Oh and then he rails you on the couch. I really love the way they have a whole conversation while they're fucking about how long it's been since they've fucked anyone. Chloe just has this wonderful way of infusing humor into really really hot fics that I adore

Does your mother know? - a Joel one shot by @cupofjoel

Another bathroom quickie for the rec list and god DAMN this one is hot. Close Family Friend!Joel (god I love putting this man in situations). There's something about being forced to stay quiet that just makes everything hotter.

Cellmate's Nephew!Joel - a Joel series by @toxicanonymity

JoJo is actually the love of my life. His tattoos, his voice, his dick print.... sigh. Can't wait to get out prison so this man can rail me on every available surface between the prison and Mabel's house.

The Man That I Love - a Joel series by @lumoverheaven

Joel is an idiot who doesn't know what he has until he almost loses it. The first part is heartwrenching and sad and I love it. The second part is wonderful and makes me tear up a lil

I said I didn't feel nothing, baby, but I lied - a Veracruz one shot by @iamasaddie

Veracruz is so hot. I swear that man could punch me in the face and I'd suck his dick for it (that is not healthy oops). This lovely little drabble is literally just you getting your ass spanked so raw you won't be able to sit for a week and it's HOT AS HELL

Creep - a Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Joel Miller is your super hot creepy neighbor and he manages to get you to fuck him and that is definitely the only thing going on here. nothing fishy at all. nope. totally normal reader fucks her creepy neighbor fic. (just fucking trust me and read it ok?)

---------------------------------

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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litcityblues · 2 months

Text

I'm So Annoyed, But Not For The Reason You Think

Look, I'm just going to go ahead and say it: Ahsoka should have been the basis of the sequel trilogy. The whole damn arc from start to finish made for a vastly more compelling story than anything The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi, or The Rise of Skywalker managed to put in front of us.

Rogue One and Andor managed to take the original themes of Star Wars (rebellion against tyranny, the costs, etc.) and give them some actual depth about what it means to try and take down a tyrannical government. The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett and now Ahsoka are exploring what I think is a vastly more interesting idea that Star Wars should have centered itself around for the sequel trilogy: now that you've defeated the evil empire, you've got to get into the messy and sometimes boring business of actual governing and how do you do that on a galactic scale? How do you deal with the Imperial Remnants? How do you deal with corruption? How do you, the New Republic, extend your authority and show that you're better than the Empire was?

There are so many story possibilities there and those shows mine that territory and do so effectively-- but what annoys me is that this is such an obvious arc to build into a trilogy of movies and they just... didn't. If the prequels were about the collapse of the old Republic into the Empire and the originals were about the Empire and its defeat the sequels should have been about the New Republic and securing the post-imperial future. That's the perfect arc of a trilogy of trilogies and saves us from such awful writing as, "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."

But, Ahsoka:

The series opens with Baylan Skoll (Ray Stevenson), a fallen Dark Jedi, and his apprentice, Shin Hati (Ivanna Sakhno), assaulting a New Republic cruiser to rescue Morgan Elsbeth (Diana Lee Inosanto) who had been previously captured by Ahsoka Tano (Rosario Dawson). Elsbeth informs Skoll that Ahsoka is searching for Grand Admiral Thrawn who has been missing for years- along with her former companion, Ezra Bridger who was dragged to an unknown location by a Purrgil.

(It should be noted at this point that I have not seen any episodes of Rebels, but know enough of the characters to piece together what's going on. It would probably provide more context if you have seen the show, but it's not at all necessary.)

Ahsoka and Huyang (David Tennant) find the Star Map they've been looking for, but it's locked so, on the advice of General Hera Syndulla (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), they head to Lothal to meet with Ahsoka's former Padawan, Sabine Wren (Natasha Liu Bordizzo), who agrees to help them and manages to unlock the map, only to have Hati show up, steal the map and stab her during a lightsaber duel.

Skoll and Hati take the map to the planet Seatos where Elsbeth reveals that Thrawn is trapped in another galaxy. When Ahsoka and company track down the droids that attacked her to Elsbeth's factories on Corellia- they and the New Republic get an unpleasant surprise, as a massive hyperdrive is being built, not for the New Republic but by Imperial Remnants for reasons unknown. They manage to get a tracker on the ship and it's revealed to be the critical parts for Elsbeth's ship, the Eye of Sion, ready to go and find Thrawn and return him to the proper galaxy.

Hera is convinced that allies of Thrawn and imperial remnants are seeking ways to bring him back, the Senators of the New Republic less so, and despite a sympathetic Mon Mothma (Genevieve O'Reilly), they refuse permission to send Republic forces to Seatos. So Ahsoka, Wren, and Huyang go themselves, find the ship, and are close to figuring out just what it's doing when they get shot down and are forced to land on the planet below, where Skoll, Hati, and company come and hunt them down.

What follows is quite literally one of the best lightsaber duels in the history of the franchise. I would put it right up there with 'Duel of the Fates' from The Phantom Menace or even the original confrontation between Obi-Wan and Darth Vader in A New Hope. Ahsoka and Baylan Skoll absolutely go at it and it's awesome. Ahsoka tries to tell Wren to destroy the map, but not wanting to lose her last chance and find Bridger, she hesitates and Ahsoka goes over the cliff, where she spends time In the World Between the Worlds where she meets none other than her old master, Anakin Skywalker. (Hayden Christensen)

Ahsoka makes some peace with her past- but not before Wren, Skoll and Elsbeth activate the Eye of Sion's hyperdrive and head out of the galaxy, just as Hera and a few New Republic forces arrive for a clandestine and unauthorized mission. Ahsoka and company figure out a way to follow Wren to the next galaxy, while it takes a timely intervention from Threepio (Anthony Daniels) to bail out Hera from being in real trouble with the New Republic authorities.

(Seriously: imagine how fucking badass that scene would have been if Leia herself had walked in. This is what I'm saying when I say this story arc should have been the basis for the sequels.)

In the next galaxy, Ahsoka and company find themselves at Peridea, home of the Night Witches of Dathomir and Admiral Thrawn (Lars Mikkelsen) and his fleet. Wren goes out to find Bridger (Eman Esfandi) and Ahsoka and the company eventually reunites with them and has one grand finale. They try and stop Thrawn and Elsbeth-- but the Night Witches of Dathomir reanimate the Night Troopers sent to confront them (zombie Stormtroopers!) and eventually the parties are split once more, with Bridger hitching a ride back to the galaxy with Thrawn before sneaking off his ship and reunited with Hera and Chopper while Ahsoka, Wren, and Huyang are stranded on Peridea.

Overall: I absolutely loved this show. Love the characters, love that you didn't need to have seen The Clone Wars or Rebels to enjoy the shit out of this show. Loved so much new stuff! No Tatooine in sight! Loved the Night Witches! Loved Thrawn and his falling-apart Star Destroyer! Loved that he's loading up what I'm guessing are Palpatine clones-- which retroactively provides a clear, story-driven explanation for "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."

This is the Star Wars I should have seen on the biggest screen possible in the theaters. If I'm annoyed, it's because I can see the missed opportunity throughout all eight episodes of this show. That doesn't mean this show isn't awesome though. It is. Give me more, please. My Grade: **** out of ****

#ahsoka #star wars #streaming show #streaming review

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boopshoops · 18 days

Note

💆 and 🏘 for yuu if thats alright?

OK- so a lot of yall asked for the same emojis SO i'm gonna format Yuu's all in one post then do another for Jocia+Ezra-

UHHH DJJDJD THIS IS MY FIRST TIME ANSWERING QUESTIONS IN CHARACTER so lets say the default text is me/narrator then orange is Yuu

@ceruleancattail @the-trinket-witch @rabioa @scint1llat3

💆how do you relax?

"Well, let's get right into it then, shall we?" Yuu clasped her hands together, a sly smile spreading onto her lips, "Relaxation... well I guess listening to music would be my go to. Genre doesn't matter to me mostly," The woman tapped her chin, lightly humming as she thought, "Though I suppose my definition of 'relaxing' isn't exactly universal... I often enjoy getting up and around and even dancing a bit, maybe having a quick chat as well... it helps me center myself. Too many thoughts in this big brain of mine sometimes!~ A way to focus is most definitely what relaxation is to me. Some people find it chaotic, but I don't care about some people. It's fun to me. Besides, it's not like I never sit down and rest."

🏘️where's your happy place?

"Huh... some of these questions are rather deep, aren't they?" Yuu cleared her throat, doing her best to keep a neutral expression, "Much like a lot of people, my happy place isn't an actual PLACE. It is more like a state. All that being said, I'm... not quite sure. Not to say that I'm not happy, of course! There are hard times and good times, but I suppose I'm still trying my best to find such a 'place' for me in this new world. Let's call this one a work in progress, yes? I'll get there eventually, not to worry. I have my plans, of course~"

✏️What are your hobbies?

"Oh! This is a fun one. I'm a musician. I have been taking band and theater courses my whole life," Yuu lifted her head triumphantly, gladly taking the opportunity to brag, "Singing, acting, playing instruments... I managed to get into a pretty prestigious performing arts school back home, and what more could one ask for than to spend their life doing what they love?" Her peppiness suddenly dropped, resulting in a roll of her eyes, "Not that it's useful now that I'm stuck here though. Damn Crowley."

🥣what's your favorite food?

"Bungeoppang!" The prefect chirped, leaning forward in her (imaginary) seat for this (imaginary) interview, "Or, ah- taiyaki, or bread with a sweet red bean filling. I was trying to learn more about my ancestry, and came across this pastry thanks to my father. Originally I didn't think I was the biggest fan of sweets, but, wow~ Only then, after I fell in love with it, did I learn it wasn't even a traditional dish from my father's home... figures. Nonetheless! You'll have to try some!"

"Ah, Here's a fun fact for you, I learned the language a long time ago along with trying to learn more about my family's history, but no one here seems to recognize it, which... makes sense, I guess. It was a bummer at first, but then I learned I can simply say whatever I want without them understanding me. What a breath of fresh air~"

The woman momentarily giggled, "...배고파요"

🙂where do your morals lie?

"Hmph. What a complete 180 of a question..." Her lips pursed into a pout. She offered up a quick glare, but it didn't last very long at all, "I'm just trying my best to exist and let others exist at the moment!" She beamed with the flip of a switch, her suspiciously innocent smile nearly blinding. She kept this one brief. Barely an answer.

🥰do you think you're attractive?

"Yes," The woman answered... almost too quickly, "I like how I look. I spend a lot of time on myself, so it's only natural to get a bit of an ego boost from that, yes? Confidence is a healthy thing! I spent a lot of time carefully crafting my sense of style, it makes me feel... like me." Yuu momentarily fluttered her lashes, accompanied by laughter through a rhythmic tease, "Come onnnn~ you get it, right? You know I'm just a sweetheart? Completely innocent and well-meaning? Aren't I just like a princess? Of COURSE I'm attractive."

😍are you a romantic?

"....Hm," The woman paused, thinking deeply about the question in a moment of silence, "It depends on what your definition of 'romantic' is in this case, but I'd say I'm rather neutral. It's been awhile since I've been in a relationship myself, so I can't really say for sure..." Yuu tilted her head, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her seat. Striking a pose to simply ponder.

"I'm not a hopeless romantic, but I highly value romantic gestures. Does that make sense? I particularly value physical touch along with gift receiving as far as love language goes. At least, that's how it used to be with my ex-girlfriend. I don't think that has changed too much. So, hey! If you're interested, feel free to just hand over your credit card as a gift, I'll get back to you," The woman finished with a joke, attempting to turn the mood away from being sour.

"ALSO HELLO YUU SHI YOU ARE GORGEOUS HELLO LIKE ARE YOU AN ANGLE FROM HEAVEN??? CAUSE YOU'RE A-CUTE"

The prefect blinked, leaving an uncomfortable amount of awkward silence as she read the words on the page of (imaginary) interview questions.

She held back a snort, doing her best to hide a guilty grin along with her horrible sense of humor, "Wh-Who wrote this? Who wrote these questions?" She giggled to herself, setting down the page in finality, "Sevens, that's awful... I love it. I'm well aware, but thank you. I needed the laugh today."

"Will that be all?"

Ask game!

#boopshoopsramblings #boopshoopsoc #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #oc #twst wonderland #original character #oc art #yuu shi #tcoav #ask game #does this count as a writing post #i donT KNOWWwww #i thINK SO But #beh i never know when to use my tag list #definitely not my usual writing style either way given the lack of internal monologue #boopshoopswriting

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toxicanonymity · 8 months

Note

Hiii how’s Ezra and his menace of a reader?? I hope he’s still fraught with guilt bc damn that’s hot

No pressure to write or whatever I just think about them half the day (the other half is for nw)

Ezra drabble 3

700, Ezra x f!reader

Last one: Ezra pt. 2, you baited/tricked him into somnophiling you

WARNINGS: I8+ AU where you can be briefly exposed outside. Degradation. Manhandling. Outdoors. Dubcon P in V. References to somnophilia. I feel like you or an anon asked what would happen if he found out but I can't find the msg sry. Unedited!

Ezra’s quiet the next day. You let him sweat it out for hours, making comments about how you’re tired, sore, asking him if anything happened. The tortured look on his face makes you tingle. He wants to confess. You can’t believe he fell for it, after all your involvement and encouragement during . . .the act. He really thinks you were talking in your sleep.

Finally, you put him out of his misery and degrade him about it. You're standing in the shade of a mossy tree when you chide, “So, Ez. . ." You lower your brow and cock your head at him. He swallows and looks at you with big eyes, and you ask, "Are you man enough to give it to me when I'm awake?"

His face changes as he grabs the fabric of your jumpsuit by the chest and shoves you up against the tree. You add, “or is the sleep what gets you off—ohhh shit, ohhhh”

He tightens his grip on your jumpsuit and slams you back against the tree. “I fear I thought too much of you, little bird. You're nothing but a common pigeon.” His nostrils flare. “And all your cooing is growing tiresome.” His eyes darken with the intent to intimidate, but you see his animal lust through the gaping black holes of his pupils. He’s right up against you. You reach down to grab his crotch. His cock is warm and semi-hard. You tingle and your panties moisten, already wet from torturing him.

You press your palm into his arousal between each word: "you. . .absolute. . .creep." He glares at you as he swells harder against your palm and you cradle your fingers around the growing bulge.

His jaw clenches, he snarls, and he shakes his head in anger. He releases the front of your jumpsuit only to forcibly remove your helmet, then unzip your suit and feverishly tears it down along with your underwear as you smirk in satisfaction. He takes off his helmet, too. He leaves it all at your feet then turns you around and shoves you chest first against the tree, the moss cushioning the harsh bark on only one side of your body. He’s pinning you there with an elbow as he unzips himself.

He presses his exposed mouth up against the nape of your neck and his breath is humid in your hair. “How sad to beg me like the filthiest fowl for a scrap of cock,” he bites as he frees his stiff manhood from his underwear. He presses his body all the way up against yours. He knees your legs apart, his jumpsuit still on, just unzipped, in contrast to yours pooled fully at your feet. Without his helmet on, you can hear every little sound he makes. He grunts as he lines himself up and as soon as he’s notched at your entrance he stuffs himself inside you with a weak groan. As your body adjusts, he pulls back his cock and says “Take your scrap, little bird.” Then he shoves the whole length into you and says, “No, take it all,” then bottoms out with a grunt. He rails you mercilessly against the tree, breathing heavily, moaning like it pains him every time he buries his stiff cock in your tight little hole.

"I suspect you would take anything," he pants. "Anywhere." He thrusts into you harder. Every word, Every moan, brings you closer until you're whimpering. "Oh Lord," Ezra breathes. "Look at you," he exhales an ill humored laugh. "Already fallin' apart between me and this bark." He braces his hand on the tree as he fucks you harder, sweating, stinking up the air.

He brings his mouth to your ear and shudders with a deep thrust. His next breath sends you over the edge. You whine as you cum on his cock. "Ezra," you moan, "god," you pant, "what the hell." You flutter around him, getting exactly what you wanted.

He slams his cock into you harder than ever and rasps, "now you'll take this seed, pigeon," plunges to the hilt again and erupts with a groan. He moans and whimpers and slowly thrusts as he empties his load into you.

As you catch your breath, you say, "you fucking creep."

-------

thank you for reading 🙏

Ezra Tags: @littlegreendove @sp00kymulderr @bearsbeetsbeskar @ezras--moon @kyloispunk

#ezra x reader #ezra #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect #tw dubcon #tw somnophilia #pedro pascal smut #ezra smut #ezra prospect smut #toxicanonymity ☠️

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frannyzooey · 1 year

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I would have asked Ezra but apparently Birdie just got lube, so I’m going with TMTC Din OR, hear me out… Cabin Frankie 😈

😘

YOU KNOW TMTC Din would do this. YOU KNOW HE WOULD.

But, because I love you so damn much, I'll give you Frankie ❤

Frankie Morales x f!reader, The Cabin Universe

Rating: Explicit

He doesn't have to do it, not really.

You're already wet enough, almost soaked from the attention of his eager mouth, already slick from the slip of his tongue and the arousal dripping from you that wets it. But you're desperate, and whining and he's a lot - and so he spits.

The bridge of his nose glistens, his mustache darkened with damp and the kitchen floor is cool and smooth against your ass; your dress rucked up around your hips. It's a scuffle on the hard surface, his belt buckle knocking against it as his hips grind in time with his tongue and you brace your feet flat, opening your thighs wider for his shoulders.

"Frankie, I --," you start, your teeth clenching when he laves the flat of his tongue through your cunt before circling your clit with the tip of it. His cheeks hollow as he sucks it into his mouth and his curls wind dark around your fingers as they push through his hair.

"Din -- he's going to be home soon, and you -- oh god," you pant, rolling your hips against his mouth. "He can't see us like this. He's gonna -- please. Please. Be fast.”

Arousal floods over his tongue as he flicks rapid licks over the pearl of nerves, and he pulls back, urgency driving his actions. His hand shoves underneath him, working open his belt buckle and his zipper with a trembling fumble, and his other hand splays wide over the inside of your thigh, holding you open.

He's a lot, he knows he is, and he can't be gentle with the way you're begging for him right now, and so he looks down at your spread cunt and spits, watching the liquid drip down over your entrance.

Your head falls back after you watch him do it, a frown pulling between your brows and you guide him up, up, up your body until he forces himself between your spread thighs. The back of his hand brushes against the crease of your hip, your head lifting up again to look down between your bodies, but he's inside you faster than you take him.

"Oh --," you moan, a slight whine curling around the edges and he presses his mouth against yours as he drives his hips forward, making you take every thick inch. He's so deep you can't breathe, the air frozen in your lungs and when he slides out, so does your breath.

"He's -- he's not going to be here for awhile." Frankie's hand cups the crown of your head, his thumb brushing back the fine hair at your temple. The action would be a delicate, tender one, if not for the way you jerk up the floor underneath him with every one of his harsh strokes.

His words are punctuated by a grunt between every one, his hot breath washing over your open mouth. “I'm gonna fuck you full. I'm gonna fuck you full, just like this. Just like this."

His mouth brushes against your frown, kissing it away. "You gotta take it. I know you can. I've heard you take it from him and -- fuck, fuck. You're gonna take it from me too."

Your knees hitch higher, the soft fabric of his flannel sliding against his sides and you dig your fingers into the cotton, tugging it across his back as you hold on. His knee digs into the hard kitchen floor for leverage as he puts the weight of his body behind every push inside and you're stretched so tight around him it almost hurts. Almost.

The added wetness from his mouth earlier comes in handy, as does the slick slide of his saliva and when he feels it slip down the curve of your ass, he groans, pressing in as deep as he can get.

Lightheaded with lust, drunk on the scent of him pressed into your skin, your cunt is a tight fist that squeezes him until his strokes get sloppy and hurried, your moans now muffled by the cup of his hand.

He almost shouts when you come around him, your body arching off the floor with a sob and the look of feral awe on his face has you reaching for his face, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Do it again,” you whisper under his deep, strained groan, your body melding to the floor underneath the weight of his body. “Make me come again before he gets back.”

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales/reader #Frankie morales/you #pedro pascal

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stars-n-spice · 23 days

Text

Thoughts on S3 Ep09!

Went to Universal last week on Wednesday so I missed watching it this week, couldn't watch it until today and oh my god,,,

Ignorance really is bliss <3

It's slowly getting harder and harder to bring myself to watch the new episodes ahaha

Anyways, spoilers and my incoherent screaming under the cut!!!

So I was like a puddle on the floor the entire episode

Ventress spoke and I melted,,

I love her so much I'm so glad she's back and I hope she comes back PRETTY PLEASE

SO M COUNT WAS MIDICHLORIANS!!! I mean,, that much was obvious but we're one step closer to having answers!

Wrecker and Crosshair helping out the Pabu civilians :(

Also noticed how fucking,, big Wrecker looks compared to Crosshair,, aahhhhhaaaaa big,, big man, big guy,,

Crosshair being like, "We aren't going to hand her over" AAAAA he really is worse than Hunter,, fucking love him

Ventress just,, being able to find them so easily and get onto Pabu without anyone noticing makes me,, so nervous,, oh my god

WRECKER FOLDING HIS ARMS ACROSS HIS CHEST AFTER SEEING HUNTER AND CROSSHAIR HOLDING THE SAME POSE?!?!

WRECKER STEPPING UP AND PUTTING HIS HANDS ON OMEGA'S SHOULDERS WHEN VENTRESS MENTIONS FORCE WEILDING?!?

Wrecker just,, fucking doing ANYTHING?? I love him

Ventress is actually really tall-

tall,, tall woman

AND HER GAY ASS HAIRCUT OH MY GOD

"Clearly none of you are normal" LMAOOO

I was like,, "hey why don't they recognize her?? they were fighting in the same war???" and then Crosshair was like "I went through Tech's files" or whatever and :(((

Tech mention :((( I miss him more and more everyday

CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT FIGHT SCENE?!?!?!

HOLY SHIT!!!!!

want that fight scene injected into my blood

SHE SLAPPED WRECKER?!?!

she kicked their asses oh my god

fuck I loved that

Meanwhile Omega's on a scavenger hunt

I felt like I was watching Karate Kid

Omega not knowing who/what she is :(( and wanting to figure it out and have answers :( MAN.

WRECKER CHEERING ON OMEGA WHILE SHE WAS TRAINING!! it was so sweet but also hilarious because it made me think of how Chopper and Zeb would MAKE FUN of Ezra while he was training (I love my space families)

Omega trying to convince them to trust Asajj,, fucking,, "I never gave up on you, didn't I?" SHUT THE FUCK UP :(((((

With every episode I love Crosshair more and more and it's fucking DAMNING as all hell because I will not be able to handle anything remotely bad happening to him at this point

fuckin,, something,,, about,,, Hunter,, on his back,,, legs spread with the,, lightsaber in his face,,, fuck,, fuck fuck

I'M TELLING YOU MAN I WAS A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR THE ENTIRE EPISODE

WE MAYBE DIDN'T GET WET HAIR HUNTER BUT WE GOT WET HAIR ASAJJ AND I THINK THAT'S OBJECTIVELY BETTER!!!

Omega is just collecting like,, mentors/parents like Ezra,, I fucking love it,, she comes across adults who are like,, "fuck it. I'm adopting this kid" and Hunter's like "NO!"

Omega is just a teenager I love her so much - "Ventress is bad." - "Okay, but-"

WHY IS THERE ALWAYS A BIG MONSTER?!?!?!

RAAAAAAAH SO SHE IS FORCE SENSITIVE?!

look,, I feel like,, that training wasn't nearly enough to determine the right levels and honestly I'm still confused

ASAJJ YOU BETTER COME BACK

I was like begging for her to stay because I know shit is going to go down on Pabu and they could use her help :(

but also I'm selfish and want to see her more

"But I've got a few lives left" - RAAAAAAAHHH

Also Crosshair helping Omega and Asajj up onto the Maurader :((

I love Crosshair :((

The last two episodes have been relatively,,, calm? Like the calm before the storm and that makes me fucking TERRIFIED for this week's episode oh my god

#asajj ventress my queen #mwah mwah #COME BACK ALREADY I MISS YOU #sigh #SIGGHHH #anyways #tbb #tbb s3 #tbb spoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #asajj ventress

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tarisilmarwen · 9 months

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Rebels Rewatch: "Legends of the Lasat"

Kevin Kiner please take all my money forever.

Right, attempt two at this. Seriously Tumblr what is the point of having an auto-save feature for posts if it doesn't actually save a decent previous version of the post?

Also WHY THE HELL DID CNTRL+Z DELETE BASICALLY THE WHOLE DAMN POST?!

Anyway.

I'm glad we got to visit this moon space base location again, I think it's such an interesting design.

Another tightly-written opening dialogue exposition scene here, in a few short sentences we learn what they Spectres are here for and why, and that the mission is urgent.

Lol Ezra being evasive about Hondo being his contact. I do wonder how exactly Hondo got that transmitter to Ezra. Did they reconnect sometime offscreen? Did Ezra swipe it during "Brothers of the Broken Horn"? Did Hondo surreptitiously leave it in Ezra's pocket?

However it happened, it's adorable that this once-ruthless bloodthirsty greedy pirate basically decided, "I MUST BEFRIEND THE BABY JEDI, HE'S MY FRIEND NOW I CLAIM HIM."

The camerawork in this scene is phenomenal. This first shot that tracks the Spectres and then dollies just around the corner, as if we are also peeking around it with the characters? This fast almost 270 rotating pan across the Spectres as they make short work of the troopers? Stellar.

(You can also tell they had budget to spare for this episode because the Imperial officer has a face. Lol.)

Love it when they let Ezra be casually awesome.

Hera sounds so aggrieved that Hondo is Ezra's contact lol.

And here we get the reveal, Zeb was captain of the High Honor Guard of Lasan. A bit later in the episode we learn this consists of being a bodyguard protector of the royal family specifically and all citizens of Lasan in general. Sooooo yeah, quite a bit of heavy personal guilt for Zeb here, feeling like he, specifically, personally, failed his entire world. Ouch.

"Hondo could use a little help." <3

Zeb's expressions this scene are painful. :(

Hondo being so dang fond of Ezra aww.

Though not so fond that he doesn't immediately screw everyone over, greedy bastard.

I saw Zeb rolling his eyes there, animators.

So Zeb's interactions with Chava and Grond are very much a Spiritualist vs Skeptic plot, with the expected tragic personal reason for the skeptic's doubt and disbelief. It's also heavily implied that the loss of Lasan, that trauma, made Zeb regress in maturity, made him snippier and more petulant and churlish. As Ezra says later Zeb does act "like a child", so perhaps his being cast as the Child archetype in the Prophecy of the Three was not so off base lol.

Ezra has such cute smiles this episode. <3

LOL Hondo's chipper little "Hello!" at the Stormtroopers.

"Well. This must look... incriminating." This man is a delight in every scene.

I mentioned the camerawork right? This is another nice shot here, this pan down from the cockpit to the nose gun turret to meet Zeb.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The smoke coming from the chimney top of the station.

...Is this Stormtrooper also voiced by David Oyelowo?

Ezra immediately noticing Zeb's scoffing like the empath he is. <3

Love love love seeing the unique cultural way that Lasat interact with the Force, the "Ashla" as they call it, mixed ritual and magitek, prophecies that revolve around certain narrative archetypes and symbolic figures. It's just so cool.

I haven't been talking much about the music yet (oh but believe me we will have much to say on that) but this cue here starts easing just slightly into the mysticism of the Lasat ritual. It's almost Stravinsky-esque in nature, carefully stepping flutes and clarinets, discordant strings. We incorporate just a very soft snippet of the Force theme.

Zeb auto-assuming Ezra is the child.

Lol Hondo putting his arm around that one Stormtrooper's shoulder.

He's so cute asjkhfkajsh. Look at him. He's all like, "Please Dad, can I chant with the weird purple people too?"

HE LOOKS SO FOND AND PROUD AWW.

The score takes a bit of an exotic turn, a mellow arabic flute and possibly a sitar adding to the texture of the melody.

The lighting in this scene egads.

I love this scene I love it so much. Ezra acting as counselor, with his mere presence and curiosity getting Zeb to open up about his past and fears and insecurities. There's so much hurt in Zeb's slumped posture, guilt and grief compete for space in his voice, and I don't think we see him this distraught again until after Kanan's death.

But with Ezra's encouragement, he pulls himself together.

Once again showing off the cool magitek with Chava's staff and Zeb's bo-rifle here and I just love the concept, I love the whole aesthetic of hearing whispers of destiny through the Ashla and then channeling the energy of the universe through arcane, almost magical technology to navigate the stars, like some kind of arcane mariners. And we all thought the bo-rifle was just some kind of standard ordinary weapon, SURPRISE, it's also an ancient Force-magic navicomputer.

And oh wow the parallels with the purrgil next episode and the Chiss sky-walkers in the Thrawn novels.

This is soooooo pretty. The animation here is gorgeous.

After the commercial cut we're in hyperspace and the Ghost is making an almost blind jump out into Wild Space. Hera doesn't seem terribly worried. (Behind the scenes material says she apparently does this all the time.) But the ship's safety protocols flip out when they sense the imploded star cluster and Hera quickly drops them into realspace and one of the most gorgeous moments of the series.

HNNNNNNGHGHHHHH.

This whole sequence is stunning. Some of the best animation of the show, accompanied by one of the best tracks in the score, the star cluster looking like a watercolor spectacle.

And the Stravinsky influenced instrumentation brings the strings front and center; a haunting choir whispers in the background.

Kanan putting one hand on the back of Hera's chair and the other on her shoulder, aww.

Just tell me you wouldn't want this as a wall painting. <3

Chava gives some inspiring words about not pidegonholing oneself into a single role in their prophecy and this motivates Zeb to find a well of inner courage and open himself up to the will of the Ashla.

What I wouldn't give for more on ancient Lasan tech, how their ships must have been designed to integrate with the bo-rifle staffs. It functions as pilot and navigator and also apparently encases the Ghost with a protective shield that keeps it from being crushed by the gravity.

Let that sink in a moment, the staff, when channeling the Force, can literally bend gravity around the ship.

AND AS "JOURNEY INTO THE STAR CLUSTER" WRAPS US IN A VIOLIN SOLO THAT EVOKES MYSTERY AND MYSTICISM KANAN AND EZRA SENSE THEIR HELP IS NEEDED AND CALMLY PLACE HANDS ON ZEB, LIKE THE LAYING OF HANDS DURING CORPORATE PRAYER, AND CHANNEL THE FORCE THROUGH THEM INTO ZEB, WHO LETS IT FLOW THROUGH HIM THROUGH THE RIFLE TO GIVE HIM THE CLARITY OF VISION TO SEE THE WAY THROUGH.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The sparks that pop from a wall panel on the cruiser as Kallus attempts to have it follow the Ghost.

THE CHOIR COMES IN FULL BLAST.

AND ZEB CLOSES HIS EYES IN FAITH AS THE LIGHT TURNS BLINDING.

Whew! And what a rush! The absolute quiet in the score right afterwards gives us a moment to inhale and catch our breath.

Chopper of course chooses to be a pest, releasing the tension.

Lira San being the ancient lost homeworld of the Lasat fits right in with the whole arcane vibe of their culture, like they were connected to a place and people that time forgot.

And tada, we leave with a character arc complete, a new hyperspace route plotted and everything bathed in an aura of serenity.

This episode is one of the best of Season Two, if not the whole series. Everything comes together beautifully in the third act and the story has a feel of both spiritual transformation and wonder. I've already gushed about how interesting and unique the Lasat culture is, how it's presented as a mix of mysticism and technology, with prophecies and wise women, royal families and warriors, and navigators that explored the stars, guided by the Ashla.

Zeb gets more character growth in one episode than some characters get in a season, and he's largely "finished" after this, his issues with his past resolved. (Which isn't to say I wouldn't have loved more character focus on him, just that this is so phenomenal.) His heart-to-heart with Ezra is touching and illustrates just how close they've grown.

And did I mention this episode was pretty? This episode is super pretty and the music is straight fire.

10/10 no complaints. Would give Kiner my money again.

#star wars #star wars rebels #rebels rewatch #liveblog #i was exhausted all day and did not have the spoons to complete this one until later sorry #music #soundtracks #meta rambling

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