#in case anyone wants to call dibs
Text
does anyone want any of these fairyloot/illumicrate exclusives
#original#shitty couch phone pic bc i am lazy#in case anyone wants to call dibs#yes i still have the goddamn trinket dish#my experience of their throw blankets is that they are stupid soft#but i have. so many.
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]
luxury & lingerie. a retail au
“𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.”
ᰔ pairing. retail au - rolex salesman gojo x victoria's secret associate reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo is the rolex watch shop's pretty boy & you're the victoria's secret lingerie store's new hire that works across from him. let's just say he's determined to get inside your pants.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, porn with plot (seriously that's all it is), smut, casual sex, possibly comedic, lots of terrible flirting, tiny bit of fluff if you squint, gojo's got a daddy kink that you really have no interest in entertaining, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, blowjobs, oral sex, praise kink, some degradation, sort of cum play, banter, suguru & choso are in it too (the hot-boy sales trio)
ᰔ word count. 6.5k
a/n. hellooo this started with this concept idea i had of hot retail worker gojo who just wants to flirt with you instead of actually do his job lmfao. this was seriously just a stream of my consciousness. hope you enjoy! and thanks to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this. creds to @quinnyundertow for the sephora lipstick idea.
The sound of Suguru’s voice was the last thing going through Gojo’s mind right now.
“Anyways, I put the car in reverse, she’s on aux. I’m thinking, she’s gotta have good taste, right? She’s the one that suggested the Maneskin concert in the first place. But you know what she starts playing? Country music. Fucking country music. And I’m not necessarily opposed to a good— dude, are you even listening?”
Choso leans over the polished display case of the mens’ latest Rolex models, staring at the two idiots in front of him. “No, he’s not. He’s been ogling the tits on that mannequin over there for the past five minutes.”
Gojo finally blinks out of his trance, irritated. “I’m not staring at the mannequin, I’m staring at—”
You. New hire. Over at the Victoria’s Secret that was across from his turf at the mall. You were standing on your tiptoes on a mini ladder, wobbling a little, reaching up for a mannequin at the display window to switch out the corny yellow sleeping mask on its face for one that was a more sleek, satin blue.
The fabric of your uniform slid up slightly, skin of your midriff exposed, and he has to suck a breath in through his teeth.
“I called dibs on that a week ago,” Suguru says from where he stood, lazily leaning on the counter.
“No fucking way. I’ve got dibs.”
“Dibs? Really? I work with a bunch of prepubescents,” Choso groans, tipping his head back to stare up at fluorescent mall lighting.
Suguru’s voice sounds like he’s lax at the jaw. “Is anyone gonna tell her that’s the ladder they use to prop the door open, and not the one to flash Satoru’s horny ass while changing out a mannequin?”
“I’ll be the one to tell her,” Gojo says.
At the display window, you slowly peel the panties off of the mannequin without a thought in the world to use the store’s modesty curtain, and Gojo, Suguru & Choso are all staring. And probably every other man within the store’s radius.
“Holy fuck,” Gojo says, strained.
“Holy fuck, indeed,” Suguru marvels.
“She’s clueless,” Choso sighs.
“You can have the mannequin, I get the girl,” Suguru offers, something just to get under Gojo’s skin.
“Shut up. I’m going over there.” He stands up onto his feet from the leather client chair he had been sprawled across up until this point of his shift.
“Can’t wait for you to royally fuck this up,” Choso muses with a smirk, arms crossing at his chest.
Gojo grumbles something under his breath when he hears Suguru’s coo of agreement, and then he’s making his way across to the Victoria’s Secret entrance. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his black dress shirt, as if he expects the sight of the skin at his collarbone to have you seduced like a victorian man seeing a lady’s ankle for the first time.
He makes it through the welcoming glass doors that lead into the sultry & dark ambience that you would expect of a lingerie store, and he rounds to the right, stopping a few feet away from you.
You were combing through a rack now, lips pursed in concentration until he clears his throat.
Glancing over, your shoulders tense and you pull your retail headset earpiece down, leaving it hanging by the wire that was clipped to the neckline of your shirt. His eyes flicker to the nametag pinned above the curve of your breast. You look at him with wide eyes. “Oh, hi sir. How can I help you?”
“Oh, no, I’m not a customer,” Gojo quickly corrects you, although he liked the sound of sir from your lips, “I work over there.” He points with a jerk of his chin towards the obnoxiously gaudy exterior of the Rolex watch store facing the two of you.
You blink at him. “Ah, I see.”
“You new here?” Gojo asks, taking a step forward and resting his elbow up on the metal bar of the rack just to get more into your space. “Haven’t seen you around.”
The corner of your lip turns up slightly at his words. “Why? Do you keep a roster?”
“I—no, not really,” he responds, already a little speechless, “wait, a roster of what?” He’d say he does if it’s a roster of pretty girls he’s been fantasizing about tit-fucking all day long, with you being at the top—no, the only one—on that list.
You shrug a little. It’s kind of meek and cute. “Of new hires?”
He breathes in deep. “Yes. Yes, I do. I just like to make sure the newbies feel welcome around here. Y’know, taken care of.”
You smile, turn to face him and relax your posture. “Oh. That’s sweet. Yeah, I feel pretty welcome here, thanks.”
“That’s good.”
“I mean, everyone’s been really nice to me so far.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm, and I really like the break room on this floor. The last place I worked at didn’t have a toaster oven.”
“No way.”
“I wish the clock-in machine was easier to use though…”
“For sure.”
You glance at him suspiciously in the middle of your rant. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Cause you’re real pretty, angel.”
Your brow raises, the keys hooked to the loop of your jeans jingling as you place a curled hand to your hip. “Angel? Really? Cause of— cause of Victoria’s Secret angels?”
Gojo’s stiff, his elbow still resting on the cool metal pole, and he glances up at the ceiling before looking back down at you. “Uhh…sure? Yes.”
“That’s not very original.”
“Man, you’re really making me work hard for this. Unfortunately, that only makes me want you more.” He leans down closer to you, to catch the scent on your skin, and he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks round as you narrow your eyes at him.
“This is you working hard for it? You haven’t even told me your name yet, watch boy.”
He sees your fingers wrap around the cold metal bar of the rack, and he tries hard not to picture them wrapped around something else, but to no avail. You jut your hip out to bump him, pushing him out of your way, before you start rolling the rack down the store.
He trails behind you. “My name. It’s Satoru. But to you, I can be dadd-”
You stop in your tracks, turning around to face him with a scowl, but he was too distracted by the shape of your backside to be reflexive enough to stop himself in time, and he ends up crashing right into you. The momentum has you falling back with a gasp, tripping over the foot of the rack, and his arm flies around your waist to keep you upright, and then pressed up against him too just for good measure.
His face is just inches away from yours. “Shit. Sorry.”
Your arms are squished between his chest and yours, pinky tickling the skin at his collarbone, and the contact has him reeling. “I-It’s fine,” you say, lashes fluttering, “now let go of me, before I file a harassment complaint.”
He instantly retreats, releasing you, watching you stumble a bit before gaining your balance again. “God, no, please,” he sighs, “I really need this job.”
“You don’t act like it,” you mumble. You fix your hair in front of him and tuck the fabric of your shirt that came loose back into your jeans. He doesn’t have to touch your cheeks to know they feel hot, he can tell from the purse of your lips and the way you won’t make eye contact with him.
The voices of a couple women are heard from down the aisle, as well as the plastic clinking of hangers on racks as they peruse the sheer bralettes dangling in color-coded fashion. Gojo sees you struggling to pull the rack you were working with away to the side to let them through, and he comes up behind you, gripping the metal bar to do it for you. He catches the fragrance of your hair at the crown of your head, and he inhales slowly.
The women walk by, throwing a few curious glances at the two of you, and Gojo doesn’t move from where he’s holding onto the rack and has his arm pressed against yours, his only lifeline to find some reason to touch you right now.
You start pushing the rack forward again, and he continues to follow you, keeping a more respectful following distance this time. He’s distracted by the pair of crotchless panties hung over your shoulder. He picks them up by the string. “Who the fuck actually wears these?” he asks, dangling them in front of his face and turning them around in the air to inspect it.
Your eyes are set forward for your destination. “Middle-aged women that are desperate to seduce their husbands before those men ride the high of buying a $100k watch by fucking a twenty-something-year-old instead.” You snatch the pair from his hand. “I’m rooting for those women. The men at your Rolex store? Not so much.”
He’s on your heel until you round to a smaller section of the store, wheeling the rack over to a corner near the collection of lace panties sprinkled across cubbies under dim purple lighting. He glances over his shoulder and takes note that this area’s tucked away from the eyesights of the cash registers and storefront.
He hears you sigh, then say “Why are you following me?”
He meanders closer to you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “Because…y’know, like I said, I wanna make the new hire feel settled in.”
“I literally feel so very unsettled by you right now,” you say to him with a wry expression as you start sorting through lace underwear, referencing some chart in your hand to get it right.
He walks up to you and peers over your shoulder at the illustration, and notices the way you stiffen a bit but also lean back into him. “Huh…so the cheeky panties go in the left top & bottom cubes. And they’re the ones with medium coverage and…” he squints his eyes at the chart, dim lighting doing him no favors, “and they have an alarming fit.”
You scoff through your nose. “It says alluring fit. Can you read?”
“I— shut up. Yes I can read.”
You twirl around to face him, a hint of an amused smile to your lips. His eyes widen a bit at the sight of it, until he registers it’s a cheeky one, like those panties.
“Watch boy is illiterate. Must be why you still work in retail.”
“Yes, keep being mean to me, new hire. It’s hot,” he groans, hands still in his pockets as he leans towards you. You don’t shy away, just keep on looking up at him in this little corner he has you in, a twinkle in your pupils now that he wasn’t seeing earlier.
He’s surprised when your finger hooks the fabric in between two of the buttons on his shirt. You play with the material, pinching it, but never tug on it. “What’s a grown ass man like yourself doing still working for commission at a mall?”
“Okay, ouch, a little too mean,” he backtracks, watching your tongue briefly swipe across your lip, “let’s be a bit nicer.”
Now you’re tugging on the fabric, hooked finger pulling him closer to you until his hands have to fly out of his pockets and his palms press against the wall, caging you into it. “Illiterate and can’t take a dig. Pick a struggle,” you say to him with a sweet look up.
He’s getting the sense that you’re into him too. He grabs hold of your waist, thumbs rubbing your torso over the fabric of your uniform just to get a feel. “Well,” he starts, bringing your hips forward to his, pressing the erection he was building against you, “this illiterate retail worker could fuck you real good if you’d just give him the chance.”
A small gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth. Fuck, he wants to kiss you. Wants to be the one biting your lip right now. Your hand grabs his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin left exposed by his rolled up sleeve. “It’s…It’s real well, watch boy. You’d fuck me real well.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll fuck you real well,” he tells you, as his head tips towards your cheek, lips brushing against it. It was just a tease, so he pulls away but still looks down at you in closeness. There’s voices around the corner, but he doesn’t really care.
“You’re awfully forward,” you breathe out, and he almost goes insane at the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he can’t help but jerk his hips forward a bit.
“Y’know what? Fuck it,” he grumbles, pulling the rack across behind him so he’s created a covered haven for the two of you against this wall, and then he kisses you.
There’s a yelp that he muffles from you as his lips move against yours, slow, because you're new to him and he wants to savor it. His hand finds the small of your back, spreads across it, pushing you to arch towards him, and his teeth catch your bottom lip when he feels your breasts press against him. You’re pliant, opening your mouth for him, and he takes up the offer to taste you. Soft & warm pressed up against him, a subtle sweetness on your tongue, and he only pulls away because you squeeze his shoulder hard.
You’re breathing fast, cheeks shy, a little cutely cross-eyed from his proximity when you look up at him. “I-…okay, I’m a little mad that you’re a good kisser.”
He hums, tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly and you grip the collar of his shirt to keep him close. “I’ll kiss you nice in a lot of other places too.”
It doesn’t really take much convincing after that.
“Oh…oh my god—,” you mewl, back against the mirror of one of this fine lingerie establishment’s fitting room stalls, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you raw with the aim to please.
“Shit, knew you’d be tight,” he groans, pressing a kiss to your jaw when you tip your head back in pleasure, throat loose with a moan, “pretty little new hire. Just had to break you in.”
“S-Satoru,” you moan through a breath, the sound of his name on your tongue having his cock twitch inside your walls, mixed with the pain of the grip you had on the hair at the back of his head.
He has your shirt bunched up along with your bra, tits exposed for him. His head dips to pull a nipple through his teeth as he feeds you with a few slow, deep thrusts, and his eye catches the earpiece of your headset, still clipped to your shirt, bouncing around with every one of his movements inside you. “Really hope that thing’s off,” he mumbles against your skin, “but if it excites you to have it on, I—fuck, I wouldn’t really mind either way.”
Your hand flies to his bicep when he runs his thumb over your clit, legs wrapping around him even tighter. “More. Need more,” you say, head in a haze, and he really could’ve cum inside you right then and there but he holds out to enjoy some more time buried in the warm pleasure of your cunt.
“If you want something from me,” he grunts between thrusts, “you’re gonna have to beg me for it, love.”
“Fuck me harder,” you cry, eyes shut closed, and he almost feels sorry for you.
“That’s a demand,” he informs, pinching the flesh of your ass and enjoying the way you clench around him from the action, “I told you to beg.”
“Please, oh my god, please—,” you start, moving your hips against his now, and he hears the lewd sound of your flesh slapping more fervently against the mirror. “Please fuck me harder.”
“Good girl. Pretty girl,” he praises you, thumb finding your clit again as a reward, “see what you get for being so nice to me now.”
He bucks his hips harder, your arms wrapping around his neck in desperation, chin resting at the top of his head as his lips fall to your neck, and he kisses, nibbles, sucks, anything to get that sweet taste in his mouth while he draws stars over your sensitive bud, eliciting broken whimpers from you over and over again.
“Gonna let me cum inside?” he asks, feeling his balls jump at just the thought of filling you up, his thighs feeling hot from the anticipation of you giving him the permission. “All that shit talk earlier about me being a dumb mall worker, but you’d still let me finish in you, right?” His hips stutter slightly, vision starting to blur, and he feels your walls flutter tightly too, “cause I bet it turns you on that you’re letting this dumb retail man fuck you senseless in a flimsy little fitting room right now, regardless.”
“Satoru, please,” you’re begging, the crack in your voice hoarse like you’re about to cry from the pleasure.
“Answer me,” he demands, retreating the thumb that was toying with your clit. He pulls one of your arms from where it was wrapped around his neck to pin your wrist to the mirror. “You want me to cum inside you or not?”
Your hips press so harshly against his that he hardly has any leeway to thrust anymore, and it makes him hiss in protest, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass to let up. “I want—mhh, I want you to cum inside me, please, please,” you plead, desperate, grinding your clit against the skin above his cock, above the place he was buried to the hilt inside of you.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, the sweet words processing in his head, and he loses all sense of control, motions eager and desperate, chasing after his high and his thumb is barely considerate enough to chase after yours too as it rubs relentlessly over your puffed up clit. You shiver against him, walls clenching around his cock impossibly tight, legs wrapping around his waist possibly even tighter, and he feels every nerve as you come undone around him. The gripping sensation your orgasm had on him has him faltering with harsh thrusts forward, and he holds your hips flush to his as the first spurt of his cum spills into you, followed by more with repetitive juts of his hips until he’s emptied himself entirely into you, and you’re just pumped full of him.
You swat at his chest, squirming as he leaks the last drop from the tip of his dick, and he can tell you’re overstimulated.
“Sorry,” he says through a short exhale, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and he slowly pulls out of you, cock falling limp over his thigh, and he holds you until you find footing on the ground, albeit a bit wobbly.
“Oh no,” you mewl, clenching your thighs together when you feel his cum starting to drip out, and he quickly bends down to hook your panties up back into place. You give him a pointed look.
“What? The easiest clean-up is not letting it out,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him so he gets to feel the plushness of your bare breasts against him and he kisses the top of your head. “You’re real good, new hire. Or whatever the fucking proper way to say it is.”
He can tell you’re rolling your eyes even though your face is buried in his chest.
“You’re a dumbass,” you say, sounding muffled.
—
Gojo spends about 90% of his shifts meandering across the shimmering tile floors of the mall to the Victoria’s Secret, and only spends about 10% of them actually being a watch salesman. His boss was starting to get real fuckin’ fed up with him, threatening to fire him yesterday for the two-hour lunch break he took because he was eating you out in a storage closet, but he really couldn’t be bothered to care. He was an addict, and he needed to get his fix. Not before annoying the shit out of you, though.
“Alright, daddy’s home. Let’s get to it. I’m on my lunch break,” he says, walking right up to you in the middle of your shift while you’re folding slip dresses onto a display table, his hand reaching for your waist but you retreat from him.
“For that, get the fuck away from me.”
He sighs. “I’ve been wanting to touch you all day long. Do you purposefully walk your gorgeous self across the front of the store that many times just to tease the hell out of me? I’m suffering.”
“I walk across the storefront because I’m doing my job,” you mumble to him.
“No, I swear, you do it to—”
“Sweets,” one of your coworkers calls out to you from the other end of the store, the one with a pink buzzcut that acts kinda scary. “Is that man bothering you?” she asks through a smack of her gum, “want me to call security?”
“Yes.”
“What—”
After a couple of minutes of vindicating himself to mall security that he is not a threat to public safety, which you watch in amusement with no help at all, he’s shortly back at your side in a different section of the store to annoy you.
“When are you gonna wear one of these for me?” he asks, holding up a pair of jaguar-print panties.
“Never,” you say to him, scanning the tags on the underwear in a box of new arrivals, “those are ugly.”
“Okay, how about these,” he says, pulling a pair out of the box. “They’re see-through. I like that.”
“No,” you say, snatching it out of his hand.
“Oh c’mon,” he groans, doing a quick glance over his shoulder to check if the coast is clear before taking a step forward, pulling you to him by a finger hooked through the belt hoop of your jeans. “I’ll buy them for you. Ring me up.”
You look up at him, hand placed on his chest but you weren’t pushing him away just yet. “Really? You’re gonna buy me panties from the store I literally work at? At least have the decency to shoplift them for me.”
He has a smile on his face when he leans down closer to you, both hands now playing with the loops of your jeans. “Ohhh you’re into criminals. Will you tackle me to the ground if I do?”
“Yes, to arrest you. Not to fuck you.”
“Why not both?”
“Satoru,” you chastise him when you hear footsteps around the corner, and now you’re pushing him away and clearing your throat before busying yourself with the box again as a few customers walk by. Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets, and then his eyes widen a bit when his knuckles hit something.
“Oh yeah,” he says, “I got you this.” He pulls out a small, shimmering black tube and holds it out to you with an up facing palm.
You lean forward to glance at it. “Is that…lipstick?”
“Yeah,” he says, “the lady outside Sephora was giving out samples.”
You cross your arms at your chest. “The lady outside Sephora was giving out free samples of lipstick to you?”
“Can you just take it already? My arm’s starting to hurt.”
You swipe it from him and inspect it. Popping the cap open, you twist the cheap plastic adjuster so that the tip of the wax peaks out. It was a deep shade of red. “Did she try to talk to you?”
“Uhh, yeah. Something about how this new formula is smudge-proof or something. Was hoping we could test that out.”
You roll your eyes. “She probably wanted to test that out. With you.”
“What, are you jealous?”
“Not really, no,” you say and hand the lipstick back to him. He looks at you puzzled. “Lipstick isn’t really for me, sorry.”
“I literally saw you wear some the other day. That’s what gave me the idea,” he says, “of turning my dick into the shade of your lipstick.”
“Could you be any louder?” you hiss at him, glancing at a coworker who could’ve potentially been in earshot.
He shrugs and pinches the tube of lipstick between two of his fingers, holding it up between the two of you. “You sure you don’t wanna?”
Turns out you were not too opposed to the idea, but he had to earn it by making you cum a couple times in the janitor’s closet at the end of the floor. He likes having to earn the sight of you on your knees, it turned him on way more than he had expected.
“My jaw is so fucking sore,” he complains, opening and closing his mouth a few times to stretch it out, then runs a hand across his jawline. “You were a lot less sensitive today. Took way longer.”
“Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are,” you say, pulling the buckle of his belt loose, sitting back down onto your heels to get more comfortable while you undress him.
“Bullshit. Should’ve used that insult maybe the first or second time I gave you head. It’s too late now, after the filthy things you’ve said to me in your desperation to cum.”
He watches you flutter your lashes a few times, fingers stopping their movements, and you shift a little from where you were seated on the ground. You were aroused, but still committed to the attitude. “I don’t have to do this for you, you know.”
He shudders a little. “Wait, you seriously don’t want to? You don’t have to.”
You sigh. “You were supposed to demand me to do it anyways. Would’ve been hot.” You pull his belt loose and your thumb and index finger pinch the button open with ease. “You don’t wanna fuck me, though?”
“Of course I want to fuck you, I will always want to fuck you. But the last time we got rowdy in here, I almost killed you when I knocked the shelf over.” A chill runs down his spine. “Not taking any more chances.”
You giggle a little at the memory while zipping down the front, then your fingers dig into the fabric of both his slacks and his boxers, pulling them down until he’s sprung free, fully thick and hard, courtesy of the cute sounds you were making earlier while his tongue was playing with your clit.
“Are you not gonna put the lipstick on?” he asks.
“No.” You grab a hold of him mid-way, giving an experimental tug, and raise from your seated position onto your knees.
“But—”
“I told you, lipstick isn’t my style,” you say, eyes flickering up to him when you kiss the tip. He sucks a breath in.
“Damn, okay. I was genuinely curious if it was smudge proof. The lady was really hyping it up,” he says and he sees your shoulders drop.
“Enough of the Sephora lady,” you mumble, pressing your lips against his tip again, but as less of a kiss.
There’s a sulk in your posture from where you look up at him on your knees. His heart does this weird thing where it aches a little, and he wants to get rid of the pout on your face with a few sweet words, but he settles for pushing the tip of his cock past your lips instead. Works all the same in the end. “Good girl,” he groans when you take him all the way to the back of your throat, and your fingernails dig into the skin of his thigh as you let out a muffled moan.
“Fuck…” He pulls his hips back slightly, allowing you to adjust, but when you swallow and his tip feels the roll of those muscles, he’s pushing into your mouth again. “C-Can you take more?”
You try your best to give him a nod and you bob your head once, tongue swiping over the vein that was throbbing the proof of his need for you right now.
“I’ll finish fast, baby,” he tells you, voice husky, fingers combing through your hair gently, “just take it how I want it, and I promise I’ll be quick, okay?”
You nod again, thumb rubbing the skin near his groin in reassurance. You squirm a little and press your thighs together when he grips your hair tighter now, encouraging your head to bob up and down on him, and you do as he wants. Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on him, and he swears he’s already close to cumming.
“Yeah…fuck, yeah,” he grunts under his breath, “good. Just—just like that. You’re so good. Pretty girl,” he juts his hips forward to see if you can take it, and you do, “on her knees for me.”
Your throat vibrates with a moan, and he sees you squirm even more. You take him all the way in, to a place deeper than the back of your throat, so well without a gag but there’s a prickle of tears in your eyes, and he rubs your cheek softly while he feels the sweat collect at his temple. “Oh fuck, I’m— shit, baby. I’m close.”
You drag your lips across his length, retreating with a thorough hollow to your cheeks, and release him with a pop and your tongue stuck out connecting a string of your spit to his tip. Your hand immediately starts to rub him up and down as you look up, and the soft panting leaving your lips and fanning across his cock has him swallowing hard. “S-Sorry, needed a break.”
“That’s okay,” he says, swiping at some of the saliva pooled at the corner of your lip. “Take your time.”
You kiss his tip in acknowledgment, then take him in again, this time both hands working at the base as you bob up and down, more free with your moans and the sensation of them reverberating in the canal of your throat makes him grip your hair with both hands, desperate.
“Yes—fuck, yes,” he grunts, head tipping back and hitting the door. “Real close. Your mouth feels so good, you’re driving me insane.”
You suck on him, hard, taking him in to his favorite place that’s at the back of your throat, and when your hand reaches out to play with his balls, paired with the sensation of fast exhales through your nose onto the skin of his groin, his eyes close shut and strained and he’s jerking his hips forward to spill his cum down your throat. “Fuuuuck. Oh my god.” He exhales, watching you swallow over and over again as he pumps into your mouth, then he slowly pulls out when he feels that he’s done.
You sit back down on your heels, hands now neatly folded on your lap, looking up at him and his thumb prods at your bottom lip for you to open your mouth. You do as he wants, tongue hanging out in the process, and he sighs in satisfaction when he sees you’ve swallowed it all. “Beautiful, baby. Come here.”
With a hand wrapped around your arm, he gets you up on your feet and kisses you. You hold onto the fabric of his shirt for purchase, and he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Doing okay?”
“Mhm,” you nod, tightening your grip on his shirt, “I liked it. Liked it when you said I was good.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “More than good, angel. You’re perfect.”
—
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. You look like you could use a break,” Gojo says to you in Victoria’s Secret on a random Saturday morning. He usually always works on Saturday, but he’s never seen you here on a Saturday before. Apparently you were picking up extra shifts since you were going on vacation next week, something about a wedding in Spain. But you’d worked six consecutive shifts in a row, and the exhaustion was starting to show.
“I don’t know…your store scares me,” you respond back to him. You were behind the register, and he was pretending to buy forty-two pairs of panties just to talk to you.
“It’s not scary. I just want to show you around,” he says, standing up straight from where he had been leaning over the counter.
You eventually give in, toying with your name badge as you make your way around the counter to him, eyeing the smile on his face before he leads you through the aisles and eventually across the mall to the Rolex watch store.
It wasn’t horribly busy for a weekend, but there were still a few clients around. Choso was helping out a regular, a man who has bought four $200k watches within the past two months, and Choso’s been biting his nails worried he’s going to have to play witness in a tax evasion court case should that client eventually get caught by the IRS for fraud one of these days.
Suguru comes around the corner the second he sees you walk through the polished glass doors, and Gojo’s already annoyed.
“Hey, it’s the new hire,” he greets you, stretching his hand out and you accept it in a shake. “I’m Suguru.”
“Not really new here anymore,” you say to him after introducing yourself, “been here for a couple months now.”
“Oh really? Time flies. Thanks for all the shows, by the way,” he jerks his head off to the Victoria’s Secret store, “I’ve enjoyed watching the 101 ways you can remove a bra on a mannequin. Might have to incorporate some of them into my personal life.”
Gojo scoffs. “Yeah right, like a woman would let you within a hundred feet of her bra.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow with a sleazy smirk on his face, before leaning closer to you. “Should we prove him wrong about that, darling?”
Gojo hates the way he sees you blink your lashes at him and blush, so he’s grabbing your hand and walking you across the store, away from Suguru. He circles you around to the back near one of the display counters. Ladies’ new Datejust models, pretty classy and feminine. He walks to behind the counter, with you staying on the other side, like you were a genuine sale.
“See anything you like?” he asks, resting his elbow on the glass and peering down through it.
You blink at him. “Uh…of Rolex watches?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm…” you press your index finger to your chin and glance at a few. “I like that one.” You point with that same finger and he follows the line with his eyes.
“Hm,” he says, using his key to unlock the case, then slides the opening to the side to gently pull the watch out. “Oystersteel and yellow gold, 18 karat. Wanna try it on?”
“Sure.”
He releases the safety clasp, pulling apart the band, and slides it through your hand down to your wrist, then fastens the clasp until he hears a click. You immediately raise your wrist up into the air, twisting it to assess, and there’s a sparkle in your eyes.
“How much is it?” you ask.
“Thirty.”
“Thirty-what?”
“Thirty-thousand.”
Your jaw drops. “Oh my god. Get this thing off of me.”
He laughs and his hands find the clasp at your wrist, unfastening it and you’re trembling a bit as you shake it off before he catches it in his palm. “Not my fault you literally chose one of the most expensive watches we have in this section.”
“This is insane. How do people afford any of these?” you ask, feet wandering and now you’re clearly curious as you inspect the cases.
“We have more affordable watches available for lingerie store workers,” he tells you, clicking his tongue to get your attention and you turn around then follow him to the other end of the counter. He points at the glass. “These are all under three-thousand.”
“Oh…” you peer at them with interest, and he watches you. His eyes fall to your wrist.
“Here,” he says, sliding the display case door open, and pulls out another watch, “I think you’d look nice in this.”
He shows it to you for a second before releasing the clasp and holding onto your hand to slide the watch through it. After fastening it, he looks up at your expression, and his heart’s beating a bit faster. You turn your wrist in the air to marvel at the watch, and he thinks your eyes look stunning from the way the shimmer of the watch reflects off of them.
“Wow,” you say.
“I knew you’d look good in anything rose gold,” he says, both elbows on the counter as he watches you, “this one’s only a couple thousand.”
You’re still a little speechless as you look at it, right index finger tracing the dial. He wants to buy it for you. He could, it’s not much of an issue, he’d just have to kiss goodbye to that used gaming PC he’s been eyeing on craigslist for the past couple of months, but something in his gut tells him it’d be worth it. Something in the soft look in your eyes right now tells him it’d be worth it.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“That it’s beautiful,” you say to him, swallowing and then extending your wrist out to him. “Sorry, wearing it for too long. Probably lost a few hundred bucks in value just from the two minutes it was on my wrist.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll buy it for you.”
Your mouth gapes. “W-What?”
“I mean—if you actually like it. Then, I don’t mind,” he says, suddenly a bit flustered.
“Satoru. That’s insane. This is a two-thousand dollar watch.”
He shrugs. “I know, but it looks good on you. I can’t shoplift this one for you, though. But I’ll buy it if you actually want it. And if you lie and say you don’t like it, just to be nice, I’ll read right through it. So be honest.”
“I…” you start, “I really can’t accept that.”
His eyes are level with yours, and something about your persistence in your refusal just makes him want to buy it for you even more. But he’s not gonna push it anymore. He’ll just try to work towards a day where you’ll accept it from him. Where it won’t even be a question to want to decorate you in something as pretty as you are.
“Alright. Then give it back, it’s probably only worth a couple hundred now.”
a/n. hope you enjoyed!! this was fun to write. it was supposed to be longer but i cut it short so maybe part two lol?? i also wanna write versions for choso & suguru in this au lol maybe like a multi in one verse kinda thing haha i like the idea of a hot watch salesman trio. thank you for reading 💕
taglist: @ohsehuniiee @lost-resonance @whereflowerswenttodie @horisdope @therealestpussyeater @satorminniett @tobaccosunbxrst @alekssashka7 @ritsatoru @angrychinchillanoises @shleepyking @crimsonmarabou @mxlktae @bloopsstuff @slut-4-gojo @lil-cinn @wateronlyhaha @strawberiicreme @wintertoru @mo0nforme @whispersofbeskar @who-can-touch-my-boob @quinnyundertow @ramluvr @anthastudios @sabokunsmalia @ninjaturtletoes @rylierev @dvarlinggg @heyitsmirae @sleepyyammy @lofasofabread @lolthatsnice @tetsuski @bakuhoethotski @sureconfused
#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#anime#geto suguru#choso kamo#alternate universe#romance#smut#fluff#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk smut#retail au#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader fluff#crack fic#humor#comedy#gojo x you#rolex#flirt#manga
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello people who are getting into Danny Phantom through dpxdc!
I am not a dpxdc blog, but I am a gen dp blog. Here's a few things you should know about us:
👻 Most of us do not like Butch Hartman, the executive producer. We typically ignore him now. What you may not know is that while he was the "business guy" and the one who pitched the show, beloved artist and character designer Stephen Silver is actually the one who designed the characters for Danny Phantom (and, presumably, his team). Not only that, but he has also designed characters for many other shows of that era, including Kim Possible.
👻 Yes, we call ourselves the "phandom." We also, jokingly, sometimes put a ph in front of other things, like calling a fic a phic. It's a bit—don't take it too seriously.
👻 Yes, we have a subgenre of our fanfiction dubbed as the "dissection fic." While I may be a bit biased (as I've written a few), I think it's pretty good. You may enjoy it too if you like angst, who knows.
👻 No, you did not miss an episode, we collectively "made" an OC named Wes Weston who had the same character model as Danny but with a different color pallet. We just thought it was funny. You can read about his story here. The tl;dr is that he's the town crazy conspiracy theorist, he's the only one who knows Danny Fenton is Phantom, and he is constantly trying to prove it but nobody believes him. You remember Dib from Invader Zim? He's like Dib.
👻 On the contrary, you remember the finale of the show? That's okay, we don't either. Phantom Planet who? Never heard of her.
👻 But on the topic of adding things to fanon, the show's been off the air for decades. We're still around. Naturally, we've added things and made different AUs overtime. Different creators have different AUs they like, but you don't have to prescribe to any of them if you don't want. If you're confused about anything you see, feel free to pop me or anyone else an ask and we'd be happy to explain!
👻 There's also different bits of lore that were hinted on in canon that we've expanded. Things like ghost cores, half-ghost biology, worldbuilding with the ghost zone, ghosts having obsessions, dynamics at the school, etc. You're free to adopt or ignore whatever you'd like.
👻 The show is no ATLA, and it's a bit dated for its time, but overall it's a fairly fun background show you can throw on while you're cooking. If you've never seen an episode, I highly recommend watching at least a few fan favorites. I made a list here a while back, and I think it still holds up pretty well.
👻 We host a LOT of events. There's a full calendar of them here. You can assume these are crossover-friendly unless the event coordinators state otherwise (like in the case of phic phight). Feel free to join some!
Welcome, and have fun!
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Monsters in the Garden (Ettore x Reader) 18+
No one comes to your garden but you, not even Dr. Dibs. So what is the most dangerous man on the ship doing leaning against your doorway and watching you work?
Pairing: Ettore x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT SMUT; hand job; kissing; blood; mentions of rape, murder, and violence; female genital mutilation; vague mentions of corpse mutilation
Author's note: This was inspired by a session I had with the Ettore AI made by @harrenhalhottie (RIP). It was just so good I had to write it out for y'all. This Ettore is a little different from normal, but I can't help but look at a one-dimensional character and want more. Hope you enjoy, and let me know if you want a Part 2, because I have ideas...
This song also heavily influenced the vibe:
Taglist: @thelittleswanao3
Monsters in the Garden
You were on your knees, leaning over one of your raised garden beds when you noticed him leaning against the open doorway. He wasn’t quiet on his approach – he wanted you to know he was there.
Ettore was always there, in some dark corner, watching you.
By this point, you were almost used to the burning feeling that crawled beneath your skin whenever his eyes were on you.
In the right light, those eyes were a mesmerizing blue. The color reminded you of the sky back on Earth. If he hadn’t been so goddamn creepy, you might have been happy to stare into his eyes just to remember home, even briefly.
But he was easily the most unsettling person you’d ever met. Always leering at the other women on board – though in the past weeks, you had apparently become his one and only target– and using the Box proudly, far more than anyone else did.
It was no wonder why. You knew what he was.
Everyone on board was a killer, including you. But Ettore was the worst. The most dangerous of you all. For he was the only one who had… done worse than just kill his victims.
Murderer. Rapist. Monster.
Well, some would say what you had done was worse. But that was different. Your victim was already dead by the time you started your work on his corpse, and it had been more than deserved.
You did not let yourself linger on that. You never did these days. The further away from Earth you got, the more distant it seemed. The rage, the guilt, all of it.
Ettore wasn’t distant. He was mere feet away from you, intruding on your garden.
Not yours, not really. Because of your past – specifically, the degree in horticulture you were only one semester away from completing when you were arrested – you were assigned to look after the gardens instead of something more related to the actual mission of the ship like the rest of the crew.
Or more basic, in Ettore’s case. Dr. Dib’s called his assignment “ship maintenance,” but you all knew what he really was: the janitor.
But he never came in here. You made sure of it, keeping everything meticulously clean and fixing all your equipment yourself so no one – least of all Ettore – would ever have a reason to intrude on your space.
You didn’t even allow Tcherny, the other gardener, in here. He was fine with it. He preferred the vegetable and grains and left the medicinal plants – kept in their own room – to you. The only person beside you who ever came in here was Dr. Dibs, and she hadn’t been here in months. She didn’t like the dirt.
Yet there was Ettore, just staring at you.
His eyes weren’t that beautiful, bright blue you so rarely glimpsed. His chin was slightly tucked into his chest, his strong brow casting his eyes into darkness. His face was blank, unfeeling, and unmoving, save for those eyes.
They almost didn’t look human, but animal. Yes, that was the look of a predator. And it was directed at you.
You turned away from him to face the garden bed again, hoping he would lose interest if you didn’t engage. But if he didn’t, and he did try something…
Well, you had your spade next to you. It was probably sharp enough to dissuade him from doing anything you didn’t approve of.
So, you resumed your work, carefully tending to your poppies.
Once the lovely purple-pink petals that were just unfurling fell in a few days, you would harvest the sap from the seedpods so Dr. Dibs could synthesize more of the sedative the crew was forced to take each night. Only a handful, carefully selected by you, would be spared and allowed to produce the seeds that would become the next crop.
Though you hated playing a part in producing the drugs, the poppies were still your favorite plant. They were the only flowers you had left.
The garden was always your happy place, even on Earth, and you quickly found yourself concentrating not on Ettore or the sounds of the ship or even the ship itself. There was only you, the dirt, and your beloved plants.
So, when you finally stood and looked away from your work, you had entirely forgotten that Ettore stood there.
Still, he remained leaning against the doorframe, watching you. He hadn’t moved a fucking inch.
You jumped slightly at the unexpected sight, your hand flying to your racing heart.
While he did not flinch at the motion, Ettore’s brow raised slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirked up.
At least the hunger in his eyes had abated. Somewhat.
“Didn’t mean to startle you, love,” he crooned as he uncrossed his arms and took two steps forward.
God, you had never heard him speak before.
His voice wasn’t particularly deep, but it was low and smooth. His accent was like something out of those British action movies a boyfriend in high school loved to make you watch. Perhaps it was those memories – of either the boyfriend or the handsome actors, that made his voice sound almost alluring.
It had to be. It couldn’t be him.
You instinctively stepped back, raising your hands to try and communicate that you didn’t want him near you. Unfortunately, you forgot your spade on the ground, leaving your hands empty. Fortunately, your gloves were loose enough that he could not see the slight trembling in your fingers.
“I just…” you stammered. “I forgot you were there.”
He just stared at you impassively, those predatory eyes taking in every detail of your face, then traveling lower and lower.
Some of the hunger returned when his gaze landed on your breasts.
You had to shut that shit down.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, pouring all your contempt into your voice to mask the fear that still crept within your blood.
Ettore looked back at your eyes, the corner of his lip flicking up as though he was holding back a sneer. “Just passing through.”
You risked looking away from him to glance at your watch. It confirmed what you already knew. “You’ve been standing there for over an hour,” you informed him. One hour and eighteen minutes, to be exact. “Hardly what I’d call ‘passing through.’”
He raised his brows slightly, apparently surprised it had been that long. “Guess I lost track of time. Watching you is…” he turned his eyes, not to your body, but to the flower bed you had just been working in. When he looked back, he gave a sly smile. “Relaxing.”
Bullshit, you thought. But then you bit back the sharp tang of your own cynicism. Gardening was relaxing to you; it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility that he honestly found watching you relaxing as well. If it had been anyone but Ettore, you probably would have believed them without a moment of doubt.
But it was Ettore.
Murderer. Rapist. Monster.
You glared at him for a long moment, trying to communicate that you wouldn’t be fucked with – you wouldn’t be a victim. Then, when he still didn’t drop his gaze from yours, you took it as an acknowledgment of the threat and turned away from him.
You were at least half-expecting him to pounce on you then and there, but he didn’t. You didn’t hear a single sound as you walked to your workbench, situated on the opposite wall from the door, and took off your gloves.
“There’s nothing more to watch,” you said over your shoulder. Then, grabbing a clean rag from one of the drawers, you began wiping the dirt from your forearms – rinsing it off in the sink would risk a clog, which would mean a visit from maintenance and Ettore. “I’m done for the day.”
He didn’t reply, only grunted his acknowledgment. He never moved as you continued to wrap up your work – cleaning your tools, sweeping the dirt that had made its way out of the beds, and washing your hands. Still just watching you.
At least it confirmed that it wasn’t the gardening he found ‘relaxing.’
Finally, you discarded your rags in the laundry bin. It would need to be taken out soon – it was ready today, but you were already running later than you wanted. In just ten minutes, you had an ‘appointment’ with Dr. Dibs, and you didn’t want to make her angry. Again. Doing so has become kind of a bad habit of yours.
So, you turned to face Ettore, who continued to stare at you as you stepped within a few feet of him. He stood a little taller at your approach, puffing his chest out as that near-rabid hunger took over his eyes once more.
Your stomach fluttered, and you told yourself it was only because you were nervous about whatever Dibs planned to do to you tonight.
But then the corner of his mouth quirked up, and your heart sank at the realization that it was because you – or rather, your traitorous, repressed body – found Ettore attractive.
Murderer. Rapist. Monster.
He would be just your type if you didn’t know why he was here. You had never been able to resist a good jawline, and his could cut fucking glass. And as you took another step closer, his height became just as enticing. You always told people you only liked tall men so they could reach things for you. But really, you just loved the feeling of having a big, strong man to protect you.
No one had looked at you like you needed protection in years. No, you were now what people needed protection from.
“Though she be but little she is fierce,” the lawyer had said when convincing the jury to not be put off by your size. A fitting quote, since Shakespeare himself had inspired some of the more gruesome details of your crime.
And now, you couldn’t help but take another step forward, then another. All along, savoring how far back you had to tilt your head to look into those beautiful blue eyes.
God, as he tilted his chin back as well, the bright lights of the garden set them blazingly bright and the bluest you’d ever seen them. They were even better than the sky back home…
You forced yourself to look away when you felt heat begin to pool between your thighs. Instead, you stared over his shoulder to the hall, trying not to snap when you heard him laugh slightly at your movement. Was the blush you felt visible?
“You’re in my way,” you said, your voice more of a whisper than you intended.
When his smirk faded, and his lips – very pretty lips, you realized – fell slightly open, you thought he would have some cutting remark. But he only stepped to the side to allow you through.
As you passed him, you were close enough to catch his scent. Everyone on the ship used the same soap, so how did he smell so different? Beneath the clinical smell you all carried, there was something deeper, more masculine.
You really needed to calm down before your appointment with Dibs. She knew you didn’t use the Box – not after that first time had failed to get you off, despite the engineering genius of the contraption – so seeing you this riled would lead to questions you didn’t want to answer.
Touching other inmates was against the rules. And even if this wasn’t touching… even thinking this way about another prisoner may incur her wrath.
So, you walked a more than respectable distance away from him before turning back. He was still half-in, half-out of the garden. But he wasn’t staring at you anymore, but rather at the poppies...
When was the last time he had seen a beautiful flower?
You glanced at your watch again. You barely had enough time to make it to the infirmary.
“I need to lock the door,” you said, drawing his gaze back to you.
His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced from you back to the door, then back to you again. He sucked his teeth as he looked at you in condescending disbelief. “You need to lock up flowers?”
“It’s protocol,” you answered. Perhaps your tone was a bit harsher than it needed to be, but you were both criminals - murderers. He could handle a little bitchiness. “And there’s more than just flowers in there.”
Ettore let out a laugh that was little more than a hard exhale, but the twinkle in those eyes told you that he was indeed amused. Then, crossing his arms, showing off the odd, triangular tattoo on his forearm, he stepped away from the door.
You would have to walk by him again to get to the door. Perhaps he was cleverer than you gave him credit for – if you had previously given him any credit at all.
If you weren’t so pressed for time, you might have stayed to tease him some more. This was surprisingly fun, even when you knew what he wanted from you and what he had done to get it from other women. You were just that bored.
And horny. You were very, very horny.
That would be what got you in trouble.
You scoffed, pushing past him to lock the door. It took all your effort to slip the key in as your fingers trembled at the feeling of him hovering over you, his breath hot on your neck as he stepped closer to you.
This shouldn’t make you horny. On the contrary, it should make you afraid. But still…
When the door finally locked, you spun around quickly, tucking the key between your fingers like a claw – something one of the college policemen once told you about.
But Ettore stepped back – once, twice. And then the was pressed against the wall opposite you. His stare was still hungry, and you could easily see how heavy his breathing had become, but he didn’t advance.
“I have to go,” you told him, unsure why you were doing it. It wasn’t like you needed his permission or even wanted it. “I have an appointment with Dibs.”
His eyes darkened then. Not with lust or animalistic hunger, but rage. It was almost… possessive?
It was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by his usual empty stare. Still, you did not dare move, not after whatever it was you just saw.
“Can I…?” Ettore gritted his jaw and looked away, his hands balling into fists at his sides. You didn’t know if he was about to cry or kill you – and you didn’t know which would be worse. He still looked away from you as he continued, “Can I come here again tomorrow? Just to watch.”
You should immediately forbid it. It was wrong, it was a bad idea, and it was just fucking weird. But as the hour chimed on your watches, you realized you couldn’t leave when he looked so desperate, almost sad. And you definitely couldn’t say anything to make that horrible expression worse.
“Yeah,” you whispered. You turned as he looked back at you to shut off the alarm on your watch. Dr. Dibs would be pissed at you, of that, you were sure. At the moment, though, it didn’t seem to matter. Not when his eyes lit up again, not from any light, but with excitement. “If you have nothing better to do, I guess that’s fine.”
The corners of Ettore’s lips quirked up like he would smile, but he quickly corrected it and set his mouth in a straight line. He didn’t want you to know just how excited he was, but you did anyways – he wasn’t a great liar. Tipping his head in an attempt at indifference, he sniffed before speaking. “Yeah, wicked.”
You winced a little at his pathetic attempt to seem cool, but it faded quickly when your watch beeped again. This wasn’t an alarm or the chiming of the hour but a summons. If you didn’t obey it, you knew Dibs would happily use the stupid watch to deliver a steady stream of low-level electric shocks until you did.
She was just as much of a killer as the rest of you – worse than some, if the rumors were right. Why should she have such authority over the rest of you?
It was pointless to question it, and even the beginnings of the line of thought had ruined your mood. So much so that you didn’t say anything else to Ettore before turning away from him and stalking down the hall toward the infirmary.
After you had disappeared around the corner, Ettore took a deep breath, silently congratulating himself on handling that almost like a real person would. Then, he turned in the opposite direction as you. He was due to clean the canteen before dinner. But fuck that. He needed the Box – now.
-
Dibs had been pissed. Not only that you were late to your appointment, but that you were so obviously turned on when you got there. It wasn’t like you could hide it, not when she immediately ordered you into the stirrups and got a front-row seat to your weeping and flushed cunt.
“Have you been using the Box?” she asked, that sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face.
You pursed your lips, looking away. “No.”
Her smile faded, and her eye twitched. “And yet here you are, practically dripping.” She reached for something on her tray, but you couldn’t see what. You had a pretty good guess, anyway. “Well, at least it makes my job easier.”
It had been anything but fucking ‘easy,’ you thought as you cradled your aching abdomen. Under the pretense that you were already wet enough, she had shoved her speculum into you hard and fast – and without lube.
If you thought her tests and procedures had been uncomfortable before… they were downright torturous yesterday. Especially since she conveniently ‘forgot’ to give you any numbing agents or sedatives. And definitely no painkillers.
Not even the sedative you were served with dinner had helped. For the first time since you boarded this godforsaken ship, you hadn’t slept.
Thankfully, you had little work to do in the garden besides waiting for the poppies to drop their petals. But you didn’t want to just wallow in your pain, so you decided to sit at the edge of the bed where your little willow tree resided.
It wasn’t growing very fast, likely because it didn’t have the room it needed or deserved. Still, you were happy with the progress it had made. When the ship first took off, it was little more than a bonsai. Now, it stood a good eight feet tall – the only plant you needed your step stool to tend.
In truth, it didn’t need much tending. Trees never do unless they are very young or something is wrong. But sitting next to it, examining the patterns in its long leaves and tracing lines up its trunk, was spectacularly soothing.
You had never considered harvesting anything from it. Not yet. It was too little still, and you didn’t want to risk damaging it permanently since you couldn’t simply order a new start. But as another pulse of pain surged through your stomach, you found yourself reaching for a lower branch.
All you needed was a small twig to chew on. It was an ancient Egyptian remedy, one that eventually led to the invention of Aspirin. And even if the sedative didn’t help, perhaps something more natural, something you had grown yourself, would.
You had just wrapped a hand around the branch when you felt a large hand close around your shoulder.
Instinct kicked in, and you whirled around, freeing yourself from your attacker’s grasp. Without processing who it was, you threw your arms out, shoving with all your might. “Get the fuck away from me!”
You only recognized Ettore after you had backed into the wall. He had also fallen on his ass and crawled backward on the floor – apparently, you were stronger than you thought. Any amusement at the fact died when you saw the anger burning in those eyes.
It was entirely possible that you just really fucked up.
But your adrenaline, from the pain and the scare he had just given you, was racing too hot and fast to let you consider that possibility.
“What are you doing?” you spat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Ettore’s face grew even more furious, if that was even possible. His eyes burned as bright as any fire you had ever seen. It was beautiful and deadly. “You fucking… you said I could come watch you!”
Damn it, you did say that.
But it was before Dr. Dibs had been such a cunt.
And she had only done it because he got you horned up like you were a pathetic high schooler.
“Well, now I changed my fucking mind!” you shouted. If you could stand, you would have. Towering over him and just screaming your heart out would feel so good. But you hurt too much to even entertain the thought. “I don’t want you here – I don’t want you!”
Ettore shattered.
You watched it happen as your venomous words left your lips.
His face fell, his eyes began to water, and even his tattoos seemed to go dull.
At that moment, he was not Ettore, the murderer, rapist, and monster.
He was just a boy – the both of you were barely more than teenagers when you left Earth – and he was broken.
You broke him.
You looked on in horror as his trembling lips set into a hard line that echoed in his harsh brow, and the tears in his beautiful eyes faded to reveal a primal rage that chilled your blood.
There he was.
Murderer. Rapist. Monster.
Ettore stood slowly, like a tiger rising from its crouch upon realizing its prey has no escape – that it could play.
But then he looked away from you, sniffed, and moved for the door.
His leaving without doing anything to you should have made you feel overwhelming relief, but it did not. Instead, a great yawning pit of guilt and regret opened in your chest, hurting nearly as much as your wounded core.
You tried to call out to him, take your words back, and apologize, but all that came out was a short yelp of pain. This time, it was accompanied by wetness between your legs – and not the pleasant kind.
As you folded over, burying your face in your knees as you pulled them into your chest, Ettore paused halfway out the door.
He’d heard noises like that before. From other women in pain – pain that he caused. His lip twitched, and his head tilted out of his control, the movement more animal than human.
You were helpless and apparently wounded. This was his chance.
But as he turned to face you, he caught sight of the poppies you so lovingly tended to the day before. With the memory of your soft smile as you cupped a particularly pretty bloom, one that was a deeper pink than the others, he was able to pull back on the reins of that instinct.
Just slightly, but just enough.
“You hurt?” he asked, his voice strained.
You nodded into your legs and lifted your head without meeting his eyes. “I think… I think I’m bleeding.”
Ettore was frozen, his hands flexing, relaxing, and balling into fists as he tried to keep hold of those inner reins. If he was smart, he would leave. Go straight to the Box and fuck himself until this hateful urge was gone. If he was a good person, he would offer his help.
He was not smart. And he was most definitely not a good person.
But something about you and those goddamned poppies woke what little was left of his humanity and made him want to try.
So, he just stood there, staring at your helpless form as he fought a vicious war inside himself.
You watched him. Watched as his eyes flicked over every inch of your body with dizzying speed, as various parts of his body twitched and flexed. You’d never seen anything like it before, except…
The vague memory of a play you went to on a middle school field trip reemerges. Your whole grade was reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and it just happened to coincide with the local community theater’s production of the play.
It wasn’t a good play. Even at twelve, you could tell it was objectively bad. But the man who played Jekyll and Hyde was decent (one of your classmates told you he was their pediatrician), mainly when he performed the ‘transformation.’ You hadn’t been able to look away as he contorted; every movement was desperate, halting, and frantic.
Not unlike how Ettore moved as he watched you.
When he came out of the fog that had settled over his eyes, which Ettore would you get? Did he even have a Jekyll to his Hyde?
You knew you should take the opportunity of his distraction to run. The infirmary would be best, but it would mean seeing Dr. Dibs again. You had no desire to admit that you needed her help. The showers were also an option, but it would allow others to see you in a weakened state. You didn’t want to admit weakness. Besides, Dibs would hear about that as well.
So, even though you knew it was stupid, you decided to take the biggest risk of them all.
“Ettore…?” You called his name softly, unsure of the pronunciation. Whether it was right or wrong, he didn’t seem to mind. He locked eyes with you, and his nostril flared as though he really was a predator and could smell the blood you were now confident was leaking from you. “I need your help.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he looked like he would run from you. But beyond another twitch of his head, he did not move.
“Please?” you begged. You felt pathetic, but you kind of were, so you tried not to let it bother you too much. “I don’t think I can stand on my own.”
Ettore’s brows furrowed at that, and his lips went from a near-sneer to a determined frown. Then, with a lumbering gait, he approached you in only a few steps, holding a hand out in front of him for you to take.
You stared at his hand for a moment, admiring the elegant length of his fingers. And then you realized: he was shaking.
It was subtle, but it was there.
Tilting your head, you looked up at his face. Apart from the slight widening of his eyes, it was again set in passivity. But what was more peculiar than his trembling or his expression was the fact that he was steadfastly refusing to look at you.
Indeed, those blue eyes were set on the softly swaying leaves of your willow, tracking their movement like the tree would attack him if he looked away.
You were so used to his eyes on you. Was it wrong that you wanted it back?
Before you could ponder the answer, you raised an arm to take his hand. He squeezed your fingers painfully as he helped you onto your feet.
The pain surged again as you stood, causing your knees to buckle the second Ettore let go of your hand. You stumbled, falling against his chest.
It was no more than instinct that had him wrapping his long arms around your shoulders and waist to catch you. An instinct that his brain was yelling at him to abandon you and let you fall.
It was too dangerous to touch you, to feel your soft skin as his hand accidentally slipped into the side of your overalls – why the fuck were the sides so low when your shirt was so short?
At the sensation of your hot breath against the sensitive skin of his neck, he let out an involuntary groan as he tightened his grip on you.
He had to get away. Now. As fast as possible. He didn’t want to hurt you. He really didn’t. But his blood was singing with desire, more intoxicating than any liquor or drug. Keeping his fingers from digging into your flesh possessively was almost painful, and he was so, so hard.
The reins were slipping…
You felt it, his hard length pressed into your stomach as you brought your hands to his chest to steady yourself.
You should push him away again. Slap him. Yell at him. Kick him as hard as you could right on that hard, impressively long length.
But you did none of it.
“I need to get to my worktable,” you whispered, “there’s a medkit there. And…”
You looked into his eyes, watching them dilate even further as you finished your request. “I’ll need help getting out of my overalls.”
That blue you were so entranced by was all but gone. Ettore looked like a man possessed, his breathing heavy and heaving as he lowered his chin to look into your eyes.
There was no way he heard you correctly. You knew what he was, what he had done. And you were smart, so much smarter than him. Far too smart to ever ask someone like him to take off your clothes. Even if it were to help you with an injury – an injury he still couldn’t see.
But then your eyes squeezed shut, and you fell forward to bury your face in his shoulder as you moaned in pain.
And then…
Then your right hand moved up his chest to wrap around his neck. Not to choke or hurt, but just to hold.
He expected your hands to be rough from working in the garden all day, but they weren’t. No, your fingers were unfairly, unbearably soft as they swept across his bare skin, coming to rest against the tattoo on the side of his neck.
When was the last time anyone touched him like this – tenderly and without fear? It had been years, even before he was put on this doomed ship.
Ettore almost came just from that simple touch.
More intense than even the extraordinary pleasure was the feeling of near calm that washed over him. It soothed the pain he felt in every muscle and quieted the violent, primal urges roaring within his chest. They weren’t gone, but they were further away.
It made it easier to take the reins.
“The worktable…” he breathed as his grip on you relaxed slightly. He still held you firm enough to keep you standing, but you no longer worried you would bruise.
You pulled away slightly, noting the way he whimpered and winced like a scolded puppy as you slowly removed your hand from around his neck. “Yes.”
He nodded frantically, sniffing and taking a few deep breaths. As if he needed to prepare himself for the short walk to the table. Then, moving with a slowness that suggested the motion took all his concentration, he lowered his arm from your shoulders.
When Ettore turned to the worktable, even with his other arm still around your waist, you felt a rush of unwelcome cold. Even when you were still clothed and the garden was kept at a balmy temperature.
He walked slowly. Perhaps you would have thought it was out of concern for you and your pain, but you knew by now that this was hard for him.
Indeed, when he pulled away after you were leaned against the table, a faint sheen of sweat had broken out across his brow. His breathing was still rapid, and his eyes were glassy, as if he were several shots in.
“Ettore?” When he met your eyes again, you looked down at the buttons on your shoulders holding your overalls up. He followed your gaze and made a choking sound when he realized what you meant. “If I let go of the table, I think I’ll fall.”
It wasn’t just his hands shaking now, but all of him. So much so that you couldn’t tell whether he was nodding or just shaking that badly.
Either way, he reached for the first button on your left shoulder. It took him a few tries, but he got it done. The strap fell, and one side of the overalls slumped, revealing the tight white shirt beneath that left very little to the imagination.
Ettore growled.
What the fuck? Humans don’t growl. At least, you had never heard it.
And yet he did.
A flicker of fear started in your chest, and you chose to focus on that rather than the bloom of something else lower within you.
He began to reach a hand, tense and shaking, towards your breast. But inches away, you caught his wrist. You had to lean further against the table not to fall, but you weren’t letting go.
“The other button, please.” Though you spoke quietly, the command was clear.
You only released his arm when he looked into your eyes and confirmed with a twitch of his lip that he heard you. He clenched and unclenched his fist several times before finally going for the other button.
It took him even longer to get this one undone. But at least he didn’t growl again when the other half of the overall’s torso fell limp around your waist. His eyes did linger on your breasts, but you let it happen.
You had great tits. And he deserved a little reward for helping you, didn’t he?
So, you let him have a few seconds to just stare. As long as he didn’t try to touch again. Because you didn’t want that, right?
Ettore’s gaze fell further, to where the overalls were just barely hanging onto your waist. You said you were bleeding, but he still hadn’t seen it. So just where was your injury?
His cock twitched, and he was sure you could see it through the thin scrub pants he was forced to wear as he realized what would happen next. “You need ‘em all the way off, eh?” He hated how weak and shaky his voice sounded, but he supposed it was better than growling. You hadn’t reacted well to that. “Do you need me to…?”
“Yeah,” you affirmed. Of course, you knew you should say something about burying your spade in his chest if he tried anything. But the fact that he was asking, rather than just ripping the garment off, made you feel almost safe in having him do this. Almost.
You would feel even better about it if you couldn’t see his dick straining against his pants and twitching almost as much as he was.
C'est la vie, you supposed. Though that probably applied more to something trivial, like your school’s football team losing a game they should have won, than you being forced to ask a serial rapist and murderer to take off your pants. But close enough.
You shivered when he lowered his hands to your waist, causing him to pull back slightly. “It’s fine,” you assured him. “Keep going. I’m fine.”
Ettore nodded and fixed his eyes on the bottom drawer of the table as he took the thin fabric of the overalls between his fingers and started pulling them down. Really, he could have just nudged them, and they would have fallen to the floor. But he kept them in his grip as he lowered himself into a kneeling position.
He never once looked at you. Not at your ankles, or your legs, or the apex of your thighs – which were covered with more blood than you expected.
Damn it.
You considered what to do next as Ettore remained on the floor, carefully slipping the overalls over your feet. A difficult task when he refused to look at what he was doing.
By the time he finished, and you felt very much like Donald Duck – shirt, shoes, but no pants – you knew what you had to ask.
It was the stupidest thing you’d ever done.
“As long as you’re down there,” you said, your joking tone flatter than you intended, “the medkit’s in the drawer just to your left. Can you grab it and… and help me onto the table?”
Ettore didn’t reply but yanked the drawer open and grabbed the medkit. After tossing it on the table, he rose. Then, still not looking at you, he wrapped his arms around you again – one around your waist, the other around your upper thighs – and lifted you onto the table.
God, you felt so good in his arms. You were the perfect size, like you were made for him to hold. Warm and soft and… wet?
His eyes shot to the arm that had been wrapped around your legs. And both of you looked on in horror as you realized it was now covered in blood – your blood.
For the first time, you saw a look of disgust come over Ettore’s face.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, voice breaking as tears of embarrassment began to fall. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”
But he didn’t say anything. Instead, Ettore simply stalked over to the utility sink a few feet from the worktable and slammed the faucet on. He didn’t wait for the water to heat before shoving his arm under it.
You watched in humiliation, fumbling to lower your panties as he grabbed the soap and began to scrub. “I’m so sorry,” you said again, ripping open the medkit to find a packet of gauze you could press between your legs. “Ettore, I’m so sorry!”
He shook his head as he scrubbed harder and harder, until his skin burned from more than the searingly hot water. You were bleeding, you were hurt, and all he had been thinking about was how much he’d like to fuck you.
It had never stopped him before, not with any of the other girls. He had never minded having their blood on him. He savored it, actually. But it had been him who made them bleed. You…
“Who?” he growled, stilling his scrubbing but keeping the arm under the water. The burning distracted him from the desire to find someone to hurt. Because he needed to hurt someone. Badly. Preferably whoever did this to you, but he wasn’t picky.
You didn’t want to tell him, not when you recognized that look in his eyes. It meant violence – retribution. You had seen that same look in your eyes when you watched the recap of your trial from your cell, and your lawyer was telling the jury, in excruciating detail, why you had killed your victim.
For a moment, you thought about trying to pass it off as you just being on your period. But he wouldn’t buy it. Not after what you’d already told him. Besides, all the women on the ship were synced, and your periods were still two weeks away.
Finally fed up with your silence, Ettore shut off the water and turned back to you, not bothering to dry his arms. He just prowled back to you, standing between your spread legs as he stared deep into your eyes without a glance at your mostly exposed cunt. You turned away, not wanting to face the darkness in his eyes, but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.
“Who?”
You bit your lip and fought to get free of his grip, but to no avail. Knowing then that it was hopeless, you locked eyes with him again as you said simply, “Dibs.”
He growled again, not with hunger, but with rage.
And then he turned away.
He would hurt her, you realized. He would kill her.
You weren’t opposed to the idea, but you were opposed to what would come next. What the other prisoners would do to Ettore afterward. And perhaps you as well, since he would do it for you.
Before you knew it, your hand had shot out to grab his shirt, and he froze.
“Don’t,” you pled. When you tugged on his shirt to draw him back to you, he only resisted for a moment before coming back toward you. “It was just her punishment. I’ll be fine. She wouldn’t… damage me permanently. She needs me intact for her experiments. I promise, she was just being a cunt.”
Ettore cocked his head and pursed his lips like he would argue, but you couldn’t have that. So, you lifted the gauze from between your legs to show him how the blood flow had already stemmed somewhat.
“See? It’s already getting better.” But your weak, reassuring smile fell when you realized what you had just done.
He realized at the same time, and he could not stop his eyes from dropping to what you just made visible to him.
His erection had begun to flag while he cleaned your blood from his arm, but there was no stopping it now. Not when he had a full view of what he had been dreaming of for weeks.
Just like the rest of you, your pussy was so pretty. He wanted to kiss it, stroke it, fuck it. His blood hummed with the desire, and he barely stopped himself from diving forward. He closed his fingers around yours where they bunched the front of his shirt. The feeling of your skin against his was his salvation, an anchor to his humanity.
Not you, he told himself.
Not you, who didn’t look at him in fear or disgust. At least, not entirely.
Not you, the only person since his mother died to touch him with anything other than aggression.
Not you, who had trusted him, even knowing what he was.
Murderer. Rapist. Monster.
“Please.” His plea was hardly more than a breath. Pathetic. “Please, let me go.”
For even with your touch, he was losing his grip on the reins. If he stayed here one second longer, he would do something he really didn’t want to do. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
You could see how much danger you were in, but you did not let go. No, you tightened your grip on his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your forehead rested against his.
Finally, you could look into those eyes and remember the sky back home as you had wanted to for so long.
But the sky wasn’t enough.
You wanted him.
You knew you couldn’t have him fully, couldn’t do what you really wanted. Not when you were injured like this.
Still, you brought your other hand to his chest, feeling him shiver as your fingers traveled lower and lower. Finally, you rest your palm against his length through his scrubs, feeling a sense of satisfaction when his hips cant slightly forward into your grip.
He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he wanted this as much as you do. But, of course, he did. When was the last time a woman touched him there, let alone willingly? The thought should have disgusted you, but it didn’t.
Perhaps you were just as much of a monster as he was,
“Dibs will punish us if she finds out we did this,” you whispered, your lips mere inches away from his. “But I don’t really care, do you?”
Ettore shook his head, his eyes burning like the fires of hell, where you both belonged. He was so close to breaking, losing himself, losing control. He was little more than an animal following the primal instinct to mate.
But letting you take control – and you were undoubtedly in control now – made it easier. For once, it wasn’t him who had to pull back on the reins. Not when he gave them to you.
He nodded vigorously. He wanted you. He didn’t care that he didn’t deserve it. And he didn’t care that you were probably just as monstrous as he was. He just wanted you.
You smiled, pressing a single kiss to the corner of his lips before sliding your hand past the waistbands of his scrubs and boxers and taking hold of him.
He immediately let out a pitiful cry as his stomach tightened, and he had to concentrate so hard not to come before you had even begun to move your hand. It was only made worse when you giggled at his struggle. The sound was sweet and light and utterly infuriating.
Needing to shut you up, Ettore brought his hands back around your waist as he tugged you to the table’s edge. He leaned forward to kiss you, but you pushed against him, holding him back. Then, tensing, he grunted, a low, throaty sound and a begging.
“I know,” you whispered, mock sympathy barely disguising your amusement. “I know what you want. Believe me, I want it to.” You laughed again as you began to pump him slowly, collecting the precum on his tip with every stroke to ease your movements. “You can kiss me another time. Right now, I just want to look at you. Is that okay?”
His hands tensed around your waist, and for a few seconds, he looked like he would let that animal loose and lunge at you. Like he would kiss you with all the pent-up frustrations of an entire life spent unwanted.
But he stopped, looking from where your hand disappeared below his pants to your eyes. And he nodded. Not a small, weak movement, but a firm, final motion.
He would allow it.
He would allow you to do whatever you wanted.
You smiled broadly, and again, he had to hold back his release. He wanted this to last forever.
At last, you released Ettore’s shirt from where you had bunched it with your offhand, raising it to his neck. You traced each line of his maze-like tattoo as you sped your movements, savoring each wince and whine he let out. Cataloging each reaction to figure out, without him having to say a word, exactly what he liked best.
And what you liked best. You were particularly fond of how his eyes would squeeze shut, and his mouth would fall open each time you grazed your thumb over his leaking head, following a short trail up and down his slit.
It was such a mesmerizing sight that you brought your hand up from his neck to touch his face. Every movement of one hand was echoed by the other as you explored each feature.
The severe line of his jaw. His large chin. The sharp cheekbones and flat brow. His long, elegant nose. The pink plush of his lips, from which he let out such tantalizing moans and whimpers.
Once you had taken in every inch of his face, you cupped his jaw in your left hand to feel it work as you sped the ministrations of your right hand. His eyes squeezed even further shut, and he grunted like an animal. But you didn’t stop. You only went faster and faster.
“Are you nearly finished?” you asked teasingly.
Ettore cracked open his eyes, looking from your taunting smile to your hand, working him so skillfully, then back to you. He moaned almost inaudibly, and that animalistic hunger returned to his eyes. He had been locked in a cage for too long, and now you had set him free.
“Yes,” he moaned, almost too quiet to hear.
You brought your thumb to rest against his lower lip, smiling at the feeling of his increasingly frantic breath against her.
For so long, you had feared this man. And now he was reduced to putty in your hands.
With a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, you pressed your thumb further into his lip and let your other hand slow, ignoring his protestations. “Before I let you finish,” you said, your voice tauntingly innocent, “I need you to answer a question for me. Can you do that?”
Ettore’s body jerked wildly as he desperately tried to regain some of the friction you had just deprived him of, but his eyes stayed locked on yours.
He knew he would do anything you asked him to then.
If you asked him to jump? He’d ask how high.
If you demanded he get down on his knees and beg? He’d do so happily.
If you told him to throw himself out of the airlock? He wouldn’t hesitate.
Compared to what he would do, what you actually asked of him seemed so simple.
“Fine…” he gasps, tightening his grip on your waist as though you would pull away. “What is it?”
You smirked, savoring that dark look in his eyes. How could you ever have been scared of it?
Then you squeezed his pulsing cock, just past the point of pleasure, to emphasize the power you held over him.
And, of course, he loved it. Groaning as his head toppled over into your shoulder. You carded your hand through his short hair as you whispered in his ear, “What feels better, my hand or the Box?”
Any pain, any embarrassment at being so pathetically at your beck and call, or any emotion other than his desire for you faded at the question. All that mattered was you and your perfect touch.
It felt wonderful even when you tugged on his hair quite hard to make him face you again. The answer was written on his face, in every piece of the complete, utter joy he felt in every inch of him, but especially where your skin met his.
“You,” he said, the word like a prayer. “You.”
Your responding smile was wicked, and you almost went back on your promise not to kiss him. But you resisted and began pumping his cock at a breakneck pace, brushing each sweet spot with every stroke and letting your pinky graze against his balls each time you came to his base.
It takes every ounce of what little restraint Ettore had to not scream at the overwhelming bliss. It was so much, too much. It was everything.
But what finally pushed him over the edge was you leaning in again to whisper against his cheek, “Just wait until you feel my cunt, Ettore.”
There was a sharp gasp, a guttural cry, a whimper, and a grunt, and then he was spent. Thank God his boxers were thick, or there would have been a very obvious stain at the front of his scrubs.
Ettore whimpered again as he looked into your eyes again, unsure what this meant or what would happen next. He was so drunk on his release that words failed him, or else he no doubt would have said something stupid and ruined his chances of actually getting to experience what you had promised just before he came.
You removed your right hand from his pants, wrapping it around his neck like the left, soothingly stroking the peach fuzz at the base of his skull as he came down from his high.
There was a new look in those blue eyes. Not hungry, not animalistic. Not angry or predatory. No, it was almost reverent.
Who would have ever thought that Ettore, the murderer, rapist, and monster, was capable of a look like that?
You parted your lips and leaned ever so slightly into him. “Thank you,” you whispered against his lips. “For letting me just watch. I think… after giving me that, you deserve a treat, don’t you?”
Ettore didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He could only stare at you as pleading vulnerability crept over his face. The look of a puppy begging for a treat.
Then, he nodded, his only pleading answer.
You ran a hand through his hair again, making him wait just a moment more. “Kiss me, Ettore.” His eyes went wide at the command. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”
His throat bobbed, and he nodded again, still holding your gaze. Then, before you could even take a breath, he pounced.
Ettore’s lips were hot on yours as he kissed you deeper and more passionately than you’d ever been kissed before. It took only a moment before it felt like your souls were melding together for how close he held you. He did not relent until you were both struggling for breath.
Even then, he kept his lips pressed against yours as though he wasn’t quite ready to let you go.
“Thank you,” he said softly, the sound sending tingles up your spine.
You just sat there, smiling against him for a moment, wishing you could have taken him inside you. Perhaps you were fine now, and if he could get hard again, you could…
But then your watches both beeped the hour. He’d been there an hour. Someone was bound to notice he wasn’t scrubbing the halls soon.
So, you reluctantly pushed him away, heart clenching as he weakly fought to hang on to you. “I want to come back,” he whined.
You didn’t reply as you dressed again, your pain mostly gone, and pulled a clean rag out of another worktable drawer for him to clean himself. As you went to shut the drawer, an idea sparked in your mind. You grabbed another rag and ran to the sink, bunching the cloth as you moved.
Ettore looked on in confusion as you shoved the rag down and down into the drain until you couldn’t reach it anymore. But then realization set in, and he grinned wickedly.
You turned to him and returned the smile. “I think I may need to call maintenance tomorrow.”
#monsters in the garden#ettore#ettore x reader#ettore x you#ettore imagine#ettore smut#ettore fanfic#ettore fanfiction#ettore fic#high life#high life fanfic#high life ettore#ewan mitchell#Spotify
503 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm not including a situation where someone might be injured because in that case I'm thinking the bed goes to them by default or they are nominated for it. anyone who wants to be chatty goes to join the living room floor gang.
What are your thoughts and headcanons? Do you have thoughts on how the boys tend to approach assigning beds in inns? Who do the chain choose to sleep near when camping and why? What are their dynamics like when settling down for the night and getting ready for the day?
In "Mirror Vs Open Closet Door: Fight!" by Gintrinsic (here) Four refers to the chain's decision on how to split up between inn rooms as the "Link-per-room ratio" which I find very funny. He, Sky, and Time also talk about their thought process behind why they do or don't want to sleep in a room with some of the others which I find fun and interesting.
So! If you have thoughts and want to share them! *gestures to the post!*
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#alrighty! now for my answers-#for the ranch question I think it varies which is why I'm asking in a poll. What do you think happens most often though?#each answer is a fun scenario so it's difficult to choose#but I think they'd try to act politely around Malon and Time for the first couple visits with straws or rock paper scissors#or showing generosity by offering the bed to someone else. (I bet Malon saying they're charming is quite the incentive#for more possible compliments. The chain as a whole would want to prove her right xD )#Once they're more comfortable in the house though I can totally see Wind and Legend making a mad dash for it while Wars yells after them xD#Wind probably ends up sharing with Four a lot since they're the littles#or Wind snuggles in with Wars Legend Wild etc#Wild and Twi/Wolfie have claimed the spot on the floor by the fireplace.#For inn rooms / castle rooms / camping - I tend to group them by how they're grouped a lot already#but a lil mixed up#Time - Sky - Wars are the good rest trio. they want a good night's rest please let them get their beauty sleep. often joined by Four#Wars goes between this group and wherever Legend is depending on how chatty he is that night.#Twi - Wild - Hyrule are snuggle/proximity buddies#Legend is attached to Hyrule's hip or sets up near Warriors to gossip and gripe. I can also see him setting up near Wild#in the eye of the storm as it were or just an interesting place to be. Wild and Hyrule can get to chatting about everything and anything#so if Legend wants background noise (Hyrule and Wild podcast omg)-#or a conversation he can be half a part of and jump in and out of while getting ready for the night or in the mornings-#this is a good place to be. add Wind and things get a bit more chaotic.#Wind gravitates to Wars and Legend too when curious and chatty. He gravitates towards Time when he wants something calmer.#Four tends to be near Sky or Twi or to Legend's group for the same reasons#I can see Four and Twi having a little book club going during downtimes where they talk about what they're reading. Sky likes to listen. <3#Wind thinks they're nerds but so is he and he can't resist a good story so he orbits and sometimes settles in and peppers questions.#it's funny that Time Sky and Wars want to sleep the most but Legend follows Wars to chat (and ends up bringing people with him xD )#there could be some conflict there oooo#Twi is by Time#it's almost a circle but with clusters of sleeping bags near on top of each other and filling the gaps
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Slice of Heaven - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (18+)
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female!Reader
Summary: While Ghost has PTSD/Shell Shock going on, your teammates tell you to stay away. You have other plans on helping out your friends.
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, PTSD/Shell Shock, Smut, Foul Language, Creampie, Spanking, Unsafe sex, Mention of guns, Knife usage, Soap walking in.
Word Count: 3,096
Enjoy!
“What the hell was that back there?” You barked out, rushing down the hallway of the safe house towards Soap who was at the end. Your heavy boots clank with each stride, the rotten wood threatening to break underneath you. The mission you were on with your teammates went sideways and fast. Explosives went off once you entered the building, it was a trap and you all barely made it out alive.
Soap quickly approached you as you tried to push past him to see what was going on. It was him and a few other people in guard of one single door. “Y/N go to your room.” Soap commanded.
“Where’s Ghost?” You furrowed your eyebrows to see Soap’s dark eyes staring down at you. Opening your mouth you were about to ask the Sergeant again only to hear a loud thud hit the wall making you flinch. A few more rough blows were thrown against the wall on the other side of you. “Soap, what the hell is that?” You cautiously asked as your eyes darted from the wall to your left and back to Soap.
“It’s Ghost.” He sighed. “The explosions, they triggered his PTSD and now he’s in somewhat of a shell shock. I want you to stay away from him, Y/N. We all are. He will get through it and come together once he realizes everything is fine.” Two more loud bangs slammed against the wall making you flinch slightly and Soap standing still. “Now go to your room, we have this under control.”
“But, Johnny-”
“That’s an order, Y/N!” Soap shouted, making you frown hard. Never has Soap yelled at you. You both were friends, the closest teammates along with Ghost. You three were the triangle that no one could separate. Shuffling your feet backwards, you then turned on the ball of your heel and made your way to your room, shutting the door right behind you.
You stared at the dark ceiling, shallow breathing was all around you, your teammates were sound asleep where you couldn’t get a wink in. You tossed and turned but only kept thinking about Ghost. The screaming and loud banging stopped a few hours ago, it was now two in the morning and the howl of the wind outside sounded ten times scarier as everything was finally settled down. It was quiet, too quiet. The wind made the tree limbs clank against the old windows, forming horrific shadows into the room. Sitting up, you rubbed your tired eyes.
Soap called dibs on the only bed in the room which made you and everyone else sleep on the hard dusty floor. Moving side to side you popped your back making you let out a soft groan. Your eyes looked towards the wall, knowing Ghost was in the other room doing god knows what. Slowly getting onto your feet, you were in somewhat of comfortable clothing, a white tee with sweats that hung low on your hips but hugged your thighs. Tip toeing around the sleeping soldiers as you walked towards the door.
Looking in the direction where Ghosts’ room was at, your feet started to slowly make their way there. For some reason it was hard to control the shakiness in your step, as if you were scared to find out what was behind that door. You froze as a large creak squeaked throughout the dark hallway. Not moving an inch until you didn’t hear anyone coming you started your movements again, it felt like forever as you slowly made your way towards the other end of the hall. You wanted to be cautious just in case anyone came out to see what you were doing. You needed to see him, your best friend, the man that looked after you and pulled you out of the fire multiple times.
Not only was he your best friend and boss but you fell in love with him the moment you saw him. People run the other direction after getting a glance at him or make fun of him thinking he has an ugly mug hiding his face. Not you. You always thought he was badass but in the most handsomest way.
‘You have pretty eyes’ You murmured, mostly to yourself but Ghost perked up from your words.
‘Thanks.’ Ghost grunted as he patch you up.
‘You’re welcome.’ You hummed lazily, staring up at him, watching his talented hands go to work. You were shot in the shoulder during a mission and no time to rush back to the safe house and have a medic bandage you. With the loss of blood oozing from your uniform you began to become dizzy and light headed. ‘And plump lips.’ You added
‘Y/N.’ Ghost's voice was gruff but slightly caught off guard. ‘Hold still while I do this.’
‘Anything for you Lt.’ You seductively purred.
You always liked to make Ghost fluster, it was a funny sight to see especially when you go too far and he’s sometimes speechless to where he has to walk away making you and Soap toss your heads back and laugh.
You exhaled a breath as you finally came face to face to the old wooden door. Reaching for the door knob you slowly twisted it and pushed it open, cringing slightly as it creaked slowly on its hinges.
“Ghost?” You whispered as you stuck your head in, looking around the dark room, the only light given was from the full moon shining in from the window. Sliding past the slightly open door, you lightly shut it behind you. Your eyes lingered slowly around the room, the messy twin size bed was empty, as your eyes slid across the room more you noticed fist holes in the wall from where Ghost was punching earlier.
“Ghost?” You whispered again, slowly pushing yourself to walk further into what seemed to be an empty room. A cold sweat ran through your body, thinking Ghost escaped. Stepping backwards to run and tell Soap, your back collided with a large figure whose arms threw themselves around you. A scream threatened to escape your lips but you stopped yourself as you felt a cool blade against your throat.
“Scream and I’ll fucking gut you.” Ghost’s voice sounded so unfamiliar, darker than before and even a little bit hard to understand with his accent being so thick.
“Simon.” You whispered. “It’s me, it’s me, Y/N.” You quickly announced yourself, you reached up and patted his wrist three times that were wrapped around you, one of the ways to notify each other in the dark during missions. “It’s me buddy.” There was silence for quite some time, the only sound being made was your heavy breathing, scared he wouldn’t understand and kill you thinking you were an intruder. Your back was firmly pushed against Ghost’s toned body, waiting for anything. You didn’t move, you’d let him be the first to.
“Y- Y/N?” Ghost questioned his voice being softer, pulling the knife away from your throat.
You exhaled sharply in relief. “Hey, Lt.” Ghost’s arms released you, giving you freedom to move. Turning around you looked up at him, he looked less feral than what he sounded like but his eyes were bloodshot red and filled with tiredness. There was a small crack on the corner of his mask.
“What- What the fuck happened?” This was the first time you ever heard Ghost confused. He stared at the knife in his hand slightly examining it only to put it back into his carrier on his thigh.
“Well, you kind of had an episode.” You weren’t sure how to break it to him not knowing how he’d react.
“What, how?” He asked, his eyes skimming the room as he took in what was all around him. The walls nearly had dozens of fist holes punctured in them, there was even some glass on the floor from a mirror he smashed. His dark eyes landed back to you as you still haven’t given him an answer, too scared he’d get triggered again. “Y/N, how did this happen?”
“We were on a mission, Lt. There were explosions in the building we were in and well, you kind of just turned.” You frowned to see Ghost shut his eyes in defeat, the tactical black paint over his eyes smeared but still heavily covering them and breathed out a sigh which sounded like he said ‘fuck’.
“You need to leave, Y/N.” Ghost spoke as he walked past you towards the bed.
“What? No.” You whipped around, watching as he laid on the small bed. “I won’t leave you like this, Simon. Not now, now ever.”
“Y/N, I fucking held a knife against your throat. You can’t be around me. I won’t have it, I won’t have you risk your life to try and save me.” Ghost’s voice became a bit louder and colder.
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re fine.” You crossed your arms at his stubbornness.
“I am fine, god damn it.” Ghost snapped, sitting up he stood from the bed and stalked towards you. Swallowing became hard as your throat tightened while your friend towered over you, not knowing if there was another episode coming or not. “I’m not going to have you sit here while I’m like this, Y/N. Please, you’re my little slice of Heaven out there, you’re the only one to keep me calm and myself in the battlefield, I can’t lose you not when I’m like this. I will never forgive myself.” Ghost’s shoulders slumped as he was now staring at his black boots.
You slowly reached your right hand upwards, cupping Ghost’s jaw making the man flinch and open his wide eyes. You slightly pulled your hand away, his actions startling yourself. His blue stormy eyes now staring down at you, watching your moves as you reached back up at him again, cupping his jaw underneath his balaclava. You’re now noticing that his skull mask is chipped around his eye and he has a cut slightly below his eye. “Then let me be your little slice of Heaven in here, right now.” You whispered.
Raising your other hand, both of them grabbed at the bottom of his balaclava, slowly pulling it up his neck. You looked up at him, his dark eyes widened at your action. “Trust me.” Your voice was soft, pushing the black fabric further up you pushed it past his lip, stopping there. Your fingers grazed against his stubble jaw as you reached upon your tippy toes and pressed your lips against his. Your soft lips danced against his stilled ones. After a few seconds went by, you got the hint. Slowly pulling away and going flat on your feet you stared at him as his eyes started to slowly flutter open.
His movements were quick as he wrapped his large arms around you, pulling you close to his large frame he pressed his lips back onto yours in a harsher manner. The movements of his lips were a fast and hungry pace you could barely keep up. You moaned softly against them as his tongue slipped inside of your mouth, exploring it. “Simon.” You breathed out softly, his hands traveling south of your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him, your face heated up as his raging boner poked at your lower abdomen. “Don’t you see what you do to me?” His husky voice rang through your ears.
You groaned softly, bucking your hips against him. “You do the same to me, Ghost.” You confessed. With no effort at all, Ghost picked you up. Mindlessly, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he made his way back to his bed, sitting down at the edge of it, your lips still danced along with his.
“I need you, Ghost.” You mumbled against his lips, rolling your hips against his tactical pants.
“I know, princess.” The nickname gives you shivers. “But I need you to be in control, I’m scared that if I take over I might hurt you.” He breathed out softly as your lips made your way down his throat, biting and suckling his skin, leaving dark marks. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see them.
“Yes sir.” Pulling away from his marked neck, he pulls down his balaclava as you start to unbutton his pants. Slightly pulling them down just enough to where his cock was free, springing upwards hitting his lower stomach.
“Fucking hell.” He moaned out as the cool air hit the red tip of his cock, already oozing with pre-come, begging to be touched.
“Poor Lt.” You sigh at his horniness. “Been forever since you’ve gotten off, huh?” You teased him as you started to work your sweats off.
“You’re fucking right it has and I think of you everytime I do.” He moaned as you wrapped your small hand around his hard length.
“Is that so?” You hummed, stroking him, collecting his pre-come only to drag it down lathering up his cock to help yourself in a moment.
“I think of you all the time.” Ghost grunted, his British accent hitting your ears made you shiver. His eyes looked down at his cock, watching you stroke him only for his dark eyes to snap back up at you. The look he gives you is wild and full of lust. You could tell he was having a hard time controlling himself and not trying to pounce on you as his hands dug into the lumpy mattress.
As your hand went to stroke his cock faster you leaned forward towards his covered ear. “I think of you too.” You whispered, making Ghost buck his hips into your touch.
“Fuck, I need you now love.” Ghost’s cock pulse in your hand.
Getting more comfortable on his lap you raise yourself up, Ghost placed his hands on your waist, helping you.
“Holy fuck.” Ghost moaned as you settled upon the tip of his cock slowly pushing past your folds. His fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as you kept pushing yourself to go down, wanting to be full of him. “Slow down love.” Ghost begged in short breaths.
“Sorry, you feel so fucking good.” You didn’t listen to him as you kept sinking down, fully settling on his cock you wiggled your hips against him, feeling snug of his thick dick deep in you.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Ghost’s voice was thick like honey as he slapped your ass and gripped the flesh.
“Tell me when to move.” You let out a soft whine, knowing it’s been awhile for him being inside anything other than his hand getting him off.
Ghost was distracting himself as he drew circles and other shapes on your ass cheek, you could hear him control his breathing as he let out one long breath he nodded. “R- Ride me.”
Those words were like music in your ears as you slowly dragged yourself up. Ghost let out a long moan when you slammed yourself back down. The room now filled with both of your whimpers and moans along with his large cock slamming inside of your wet cunt.
“Fucking shit, you’re so tight around me.” Ghost gripped your waist, helping you bounce on his cock.
“Only for you Lt.” You sobbed, your breasts bouncing from the harsh movements. You slowly pushed yourself up, his cock pulling out of you only for you to slam back down.
“Ohhh shit, just like that.” Ghost’s voice echoed in the room as he leaned back on the bed where his feet were still planted on the floor. “Fuck, ride me just like that baby.”
Following his command, you placed your hands upon his broad chest, dragging your hips upwards only to roughly slam back down, this time Ghost met up with your thrust, his cock nudging deeply against your cervix making you collapse against him.
“Fuck, Simon!” You cried loudly from the force.
“Don’t stop now kitten, keep going, make me come.” He panted, his grip on your waist still rough as he kept pumping his hips up into you. Spreading your legs wider, the angle of his cock hit a different position. “Fuck.” The snarl leaving Ghost’s lips was animalistic. “Like that, fuck yeah keep going baby.” His hands left your waist, moving to your ass as he helped you bounce faster on his cock.
“‘Mm gonna come.” You sobbed in the crook of his neck, the way he roughly thrusted inside of you drove your body upwards against his. Your sensitive nipples dragged along his muscular chest made your cunt pulsing around him.
“Me too baby, gonna come so deep inside of you.” His voice was deeper than before as the wet sounds filled the room along with his moans. The bed springs squeaking while the bed frame creaked against the old wooden floor.
“W- Wait, Ghost-” You quickly placed a hand on his chest, he wasn’t wearing a condom.
“Fuck baby, here it comes.”
“Ghost-” You tried to stop his movements but they were too fast and too rough along with a tough grip on your ass, he was hitting all the right spots at the same time making your vision blur. A loud moan escaped Ghost’s throat as ropes of his hot come exploded inside of your tight walls. The feeling of his warm thick seed and him slowly pumping his cock sent you into overdrive. Your nails dug into his chest as your body shook, your climax washing over you.
“Simon!” You screamed, your cunt squeezing another load from Ghost making him grunt out in pleasure. The large thick load of come dripped out of your fucked hole and down Ghost’s veiny cock to his emptied balls.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Ghost was panting heavily underneath the black fabric and his skull mask trying to catch his breath. “You think we woke them?” He asked and just like that the door burst open with Soap pointing a pistol towards the two of you.
“What the fuck man!” Soap quickly shielded his eyes from the sight of his one friend balls deep inside the other naked friend.
“Do you mind?” Ghost chuckled, trying to cover you with his large arms from Soap’s view.
“I thought you were fucking hurting her, Lt..” Soap put his gun away but still not looking.
“Quite the opposite.” Ghost called back, making you giggle.
Soap quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him and telling the men it was a ‘false alarm’.
#Ghost#simon ghost riley#simon ghost#simon riley#simon riley smut#mw2 beta#cod#simon ghost riley x you#mw2 smut#ghost smu#simon ghost riley smut
647 notes
·
View notes
Text
Theory/Headcanon:
We’ve seen Zib before.
Not in the comics or the movie or the actual show, but in the pilot episode of Invader Zim.
And here he is. Pilot Dib IS Zib.
Now, before we get started, here’s the full pilot episode of Invader Zim on YouTube, just in case you haven’t seen it or need context:
youtube
If the Zimvoid is actually the Pilot Universe and Zib is actually Pilot Dib, it could explain just how Zib was able to kill Zim, along with why he went off the deep end afterwards.
One of the first things that you’ll probably notice about the Pilot is how Zim and Dib are slightly different.
Starting with Zim, ignoring the different voice, he seems friendlier than his canon counterpart. He casually talks to several of his classmates and compliments Dib for his food canon, which the canon Zims (plural because the Comics and Enter The Florpus are separate timelines) would never do. Pilot Zim is still Zim, but he’s slightly friendlier than normal.
Meanwhile, in sharp contrast to Pilot Zim being friendlier than normal, Pilot Dib is a lot more unhinged than either of his canon counterparts. He’s still Dib at his core, but he’s definitely more unstable than normal.
Combine those two differences, and you start to see how Pilot Dib could kill his Zim.
Zim has a moral code. He views Dib as a worthy opponent and often goes easy on him to give him a fighting chance. Meanwhile, Dib just wants Zim dead with no care as to what he has to do to achieve it.
So mix a friendlier Zim, who might go easier on Dib than what’s normal for Zims or possibly even not treat Dib as a real enemy at all, but instead a frenemy of some sort, with a Dib that will take any opportunity to kill him because that’s a fundamental part of all Dibs, and guess who comes out on top.
Pilot Zim most likely viewed Dib as a rival or frenemy, while Pilot Dib viewed Zim as something to be destroyed. Pilot Zim was also probably a lot more careless when dealing with Dib, as he didn’t view him as the same sort of threat that other Zims view their Dibs as.
Pilot Dib is equally as powerful as any other Dib, probably even more powerful considering his instability, but his Zim didn’t treat him that way. Pilot Zim didn’t treat his Dib like the threat he actually was. In the Pilot Universe, the Zim is weaker than normal and the Dib is stronger than normal.
But there’s also this scene in particular from the Pilot:
Dib tries to prove that Zim is an alien, gets called crazy and looses it, setting his food launcher to the highest setting and aiming it directly at Zim, fully intending to kill him while not caring about the dozens of his own classmates that are stuck to Zim’s mech suit.
This results in Dib’s plan literally blowing up in his face, destroying the entire cafeteria.
Now I’m not saying that this scene is foreshadowing Zib’s destruction of his own universe, where he kills Zim and finally gets evidence, only for no one to believe him, so he looses it, takes over the Earth and tries to destroy the entire Irken Armada with a massive superweapon, wanting to kill every last irken while not caring about Earth or anyone on it, which blows up in his face and destroys his entire universe, except that’s exactly what I’m saying because this scene parallels it perfectly.
This scene from the Pilot is just Zib’s story on a smaller scale.
There’s also the fact that Pilot Dib is the first ever Dib to ever appear in a meta perspective. He’s the first Dib. Dib #1. Which directly parallels Zib’s title of Number 1 in the Zimvoid.
539 notes
·
View notes
Text
Secret Clones AU
Short version: Secret Clones AU is the clones going into hiding in plain sight across the galaxy to force a fair wage and also to keep the babies safe from Kaminoans
The clones figure out the plan to take advantage of them, brain chips, etc. several years before the war hits. IDK how, maybe Jango decided to take a closer look with Mij and went Oh Shit. Doesn't matter. Point is, they caught on and decided that they needed to uhhhhh get Out.
There are millions of clones, yes, but there are tens of thousands of planets.
Once the chips are out and someone's jabbed them with anti-aging serum... they're not that different from standard humans.
And it's not exactly hard to tie up the Kaminoans long enough to get off planet.
So what happens is that a while, let's say a year and a half, before the war kicks off, you have a mass exodus from Kamino, and a wide dispersal of clones. They are generally staying together in groups of about half a dozen, claiming to be brothers, so that there's a 16-18-ish looking clone to take lead, with progressively younger cadets to look after. Each one has a commander they can 'report' to in case of emergency, and if something goes real bad, they can call in an Alpha (and Alphas can call in Jango in a worst case scenario).
It's still sort of a military structure, but... it's a phone tree.
And you have one of these groups of half a dozen clones in every major city. There are thousands of planets, and most of those planets have more than one city. Denon and Coruscant are nothing but city, so they can get counted as dozens of cities on their own. It's easy to disappear in places like that.
It's so easy for the clones, before anyone knows them, to just... disappear. Go into hiding in plain sight.
It's not like more than a handful of people know what to look for.
(It's not like they have a centralized record of who went where.)
(It's just the phone tree.)
They still get real excited-happy-eager when they run into a Jedi.
They want to work with Jedi. They're the good guys! And they're cool!
But your army did a mass desertion before the war started and finding/recruiting all of them is going to take a stupid amount of money. You cannot hire a bounty hunter for each and every clone.
And as @bytebun put it:
Somebody two years later: you look …familiar. Have we met?
Clone: haha I get that a lot just one of those faces
AND THEY CAN GET AWAY WITH IT BECAUSE THE GALAXY IS HECKING MASSIVE
I think the Republic has to like… negotiate with Jango and the Alphas and set up paid contracts if they want these Ultra Skilled Warriors to fight for them.
The clones can fight. Some of them even want to fight. They are good at this and they recognize that many of the things that are occurring under Separatist invasion are Mega Bad.
But like. Pay them and treat them as citizens, first.
The Jedi are even more confused about this identical army that really loves them than they are in canon
Where the heck did you guys come from
Who trained you
Why do you like us
What the heck is going on
"Someone wanted us to be a trap for you but we took the trap out. Here we have a sample if you want. Anyway. We like you guys and want to fight with you because honestly civilian life is way understimulating. Let me punch a droid."
I think a few of the clones do 'scouting' where they voluntarily help a Jedi in the field to gather information on their validity as Friends. Cody keeps a number of spreadsheets that are just Various Jedi Encounters.
Rex does a scouting mission with Kenobi&Skywalker and just goes to Cody like "Listen. I know he's insane. But. I want that one."
Rex just "I call dibs"
"Cody. Cody did you hear me. Dibs, I call dibs."
@catboydogma: stats for pong krell are all zeroes
Absolute shit tier Jedi
They play rock paper scissors to decide who has to deal with him
A solid half of the clones don't get recruited because the lack of advanced aging (past a certain point) means they're physically still minors and My Dad (Alphas and CCs) Said No. They stay behind on their various planets to look after The Real Babies.
"Let me ask my dad"
"Wait--"
"He said no."
Just want these boys to have Civilian Lives they can return to or at least experience before war gets them all fucked up.
I think some of them try to Make Connections with influential people (whether politicians or like... Space Influencers) so they have people vouching for them once the war kicks off. And there can be at least some public pushback on functionally enslaving them.
"I can't believe you manipulated people into liking you! That's so mean!"
"Well you see. I wanted to survive past the age of eleven. So."
886 notes
·
View notes
Text
Leo really said "is anybody gonna else gonna have a crush on a guy, learn everything they can about street racing and become this guy's rival?" And didn't even try and wait for an answer.
When being some guy's #1 fan isn't enough so you have to become his rival. Many such cases.
But seriously, I've thought more about this and now I know how I want this au to go down. (Strap in, I won first place in the yap-olympics)
It mostly consists of one sided rivals to lovers (my favorite) and happens a bit before the S2 finale and the year between that and the movie. And if wasn't obvious from my other post, it involves street racing (something I know nothing about why'd I choose street racing ugh—)
Pictures are kinda in order too.
Leo sees Usagi race, gets a crush, gets interested in street racing. Has to see every race he competes in from now on.(Top right)
Talks about it to anyone who listens, weirdly only focuses on Usagi hmm, Mikey draws the mystery man. (Don't tell Raph, but the next time Leo called dibs on the last pizza he gave to Mikey so he could have the drawings) (Top left)
Either buys or makes his own merch but I don't think Usagi's the type to make merch or anything like that (doesn't know how, probably wouldn't get the point) tbh so we're going with made. I think April helped. (Bottom left)
And I said they meet because of Usagi saving Leo from some baddies on my last post, that still happens here, it's the first time they meet face to face (or face to Helmut) probably some of Big Mama goons Leo couldn't really fight off because weapons aren't allowed at the races so he and Usagi get to have a romantic bike chase where they try not to crash and die.
Leo deciding if you can't be their boyfriend beat them, be their rival. He trains until he can race Usagi himself. Who is actually happy to have a rival, the weirdo lol. (Bottom right)
I haven't named this AU, so I'll be taking suggestions if you have any (pls give me ideas I don't have any)
After the read more is just an update(?) about my art and posts for people who follow me.
For some reason I've seem to become allergic to digital art, so other than some comics I already planned on posting, this might be my last digital art post for a while. I can draw on paper no problem, I guess drawing on my phone has gotten tiring and my brain hates it for now. We're going traditional baby!
Which is fine because my traditional art is better imo, digital is just easier to color and I'm bad at taking pictures. Like really bad. But I still wanna post art so it'll have to do.
Luckily I was able to finish this but this will be the only nonconic digital art for a while. Had to switch it up though cause I was really struggling the first 30 mins so it's more colorful than my usual art.
Alright that's all bye!
#rottmnt#tmnt#rise leo#yuichi usagi#rise leoichi#rise leosagi#my art#my post#terrapin posting#rise mikey#rottmnt au#long post#sorry :(#ramblings
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some The Bear & The Fox behind the scenes!
(cause I had to make some executive decision but many of these deserve to see the light of day)
Amy’s notes: This is mostly pure fluff but MDNI just in case lol. Also let me know if you want to see more cuz i got a shit ton of these :)
~~~~
*This is the alternative ending to chapter 3 if Fox would have said yes from the start, but i love to make us all suffer so i took it out:
You could have been there for an eternity, both afraid to break the bubble you had so cautiously created around you, but knowing you had to. You had been gone far longer than to be justified by getting drinks and your phone hadn’t vibrated because it had been left inside your purse… along with the money you would need if you were going to get drinks.
“You’re gonna have to pay for drinks.” You whisper to Carmy, your lips brushing over his with every word.
“I’ll pay everyone’s tab, I don’t fuckin’ care right now.” He whispered back, catching your lips into another sweet long kiss.
“No, seriously. We gotta go.” You managed to say in between kisses and laughs. He planted his lips by your ear and inhaled your perfume, and you had to stop a gasp threatening to escape. “The faster we go,” You turned to whisper near his ear. ”The sooner you can get me out these clothes.”
His body tensed around you before a ‘fuck’ shaped breath left his lips, and when he raised his head, you could see his pupils had only left a thin ring of blue around them. You pretended not to notice how your words had affected both of you as you pecked him quickly on the nose then swiped your thumb over it to erase the trace of your lipstick.
“C’mon.” You smiled, then intertwined your fingers with his and reopened the door to go back inside as two completely different people than the ones who had walked out.
~~~~~
Chapter 5 instead of Carmy’s panic attack:
You had been the one to finally decide to go visit the beef family after days of absence and Carmy gladly agreed to pick you up around noon when he was running some errands, ‘Anything to get them off my back’ he had said, but he was secretly happy to see you again. Besides, he had already tried to explain on the first day that due to… personal priorities, you had decided to take some time from the restaurant.
Marcus had thrown a piece of sourdough he was kneading at Richie’s head, asking if he had scared you away.
“You know what, that’s a great question Marcus,” Carmy played along, crossing his arms and turning to his cousin. “Richie, did you? Scare her away?”
“Fuck you, I didn’t do shit to her.” He defended, taking the dough from his head and throwing it back at Marcus. “Plus, fuckin’ Carmy had already called dibs so it wouldn’t be fair”
“Richie, you asshole, you can’t call dibs on a person-” Syd yelled at him from across the counter, at the same time Carmy had called “No I fuckin’ didn’t, what am I, twelve?!”
They had begun arguing it the middle of the kitchen about what Richie had or hadn’t done to scare you off, then Tina broke it off when she asked loudly if anyone had taken the Paprika off her spice rack because it wasn’t there; only to be found under the table by the remnants of other spices scattered underneath. Carmy excused himself into his office as his ears flared up, similar to the way your cheeks did when he told you the story over the phone that same night.
~~~~
Also chapter 5 but at the beginning:
He celebrated the big achievement by stopping for dinner and driving to your house after closing on Thursday. You had snuck him in while your grandfather was asleep in the living room, under the glow of the TV and through soft pulls and giggle-filled kisses, he was shoved into your room. It was strange, how the boyish actions felt foreign to his strained soul, but didn’t stop the whispered laugh of excitement.
He had never been inside a girl’s room before, not counting his sister’s, and it was exactly how he assumed it would be. Cream colored walls were barely visible under the many framed artworks, pictures and various sized mirrors. Potted plants invaded a small corner near one of the windows while your bed took up most of the other. A pile of clothes laid discarded by your closet door and a nice lamp on your nightstand bathed the space in a soft blue glow. It felt intimate and beautifully lived in, like he was seeing a small part of your soul.
You had dinner on the fire escape by the window, enjoying the gentle breeze and the hum of music playing from inside your bedroom. He was worried things would be weird, not really knowing where you stood or what this even was. Then you joked about how Richie wanted to bribe you to go back because ‘fuckin’ Carmy can’t stop mopin’ around’ and that was confirmation enough that you two were fine.
‘Wait ‘till they find out you’re the one who fired me.’ You had said between sips of your drink and when he answered ‘Let’s just hope they don’t find out we fucked on Tina’s station’, your eyes doubled in size and a dark tint appeared on your face still visible in the low lighting.
He left around two in the morning, when the conversation had died down into a comfortable silence and your head rested in the valley of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around you to protect you from the cold. As much as he enjoyed the soft sound of your breathing and the heat radiating from your joined bodies, he knew he shouldn’t stay. It would be too soon and the last thing he wanted was to scare you away for real this time. So before you fell asleep completely, he kissed the crown of your head and removed his arm from around you, softly whispering his parting.
You guided him quietly to the entrance of the apartment, still lazily rubbing your eyes, and thanked him for dinner and for the visit.
‘Maybe next time I can-uh cook you somethin’... instead of buyin’ it’ He whispered in the silent hallway as he scratched his head nervously, laced into his words was a tender promise that made the skin on your face heat up.
You nodded enthusiastically and raised on your sock covered feet to leave a sugary kiss upon his lips, sticky sweet honey trickled down his throat and kept him warm as he arrived home and settled on his couch to rest his eyes.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading, key byeee 🩷
#amy writes#the bear & the fox#the bear fx#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#carmy smut#carmy x reader#the bear tv#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#the bear & the fox#carmen berzatto smut#the bear fic#carmy berzatto headcanon#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto x reader
49 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey shutters! While I overall enjoyed FF16, I agree that I wish Jill did more or spoke more. I feel like there was missed potential of having a relationship more like Saber and shirou, where they both have similar mindsets and trauma. Specifically, when it came to overusing their powers and having to face the crystals' curse being similar to how Shirou and Saber did not want the other to fight but how they both needed to.
I'm still in the middle of the game (after Titan's bossfight) but it feels like Jill was written by an Aerith fan that only knew the FF7 cast from fanworks, movies, and Kingdom Hearts rather than the actual FF7, so Tifa's the tough spunky girl and Aerith's the softie flower girl when their original personalities are actually switched lol
Out of all the characters in FF16 I've seen so far, Jill was written for a role the hardest. What I mean by that is that while someone like Benedikta's an extremely standard femme fatale villain type (the kind that Urobochi would strangle midway through the season to be replaced by the real, male villain), she at least gets to revel in it. She gets to kick dogs, lose her composure, she's got at least one loyal minion she's genuinely close to and trusts in when the archetype doesn't usually, all that stuff. She gets to have fun with the role.
Jill? Jill was written to be Clive's woman before she was written to be a character, and it feels so glaringly obvious from how she's treated. She almost never gets to talk to anyone else other than Clive despite having screentime second only to Clive, she doesn't challenge him in any way, all of the other people barely acknowledge she's even there!
Like half of the main quest dialogue is
Plot Person: Bugger me, these Imperials won't live and let live won't they Clive? Plot plot plot dialogue dialogue. We oughta plot plot plot plot and get 'em right in the arse!
Clive: Hmm. Agreed. Plot plot plot important characters plot. We'll ride at dawn.
Plot person: Righto! See you in hell then. *Nods* Lady Jill.
Jill: *smiles meekly*
And it's such a waste because when she's actually allowed to do anything she's fun! Her character design is my favorite in the game, she gets to swing a sword around, when Clive gets bowled over her AI often gets caught too so the two get thrown up into the air screaming and doing a quadruple flip and its funny as fuck, as soon as she's finally given time to express one damn wish she's like "Clive, this priest did unspeakable things to children. I call dibs on killing him." And Clive's all "Of course Jill you'll get to murder him as much as you want" and that's fun!
They're each other's enablers! That's supposed to be their dynamic. Clive was a rejected son and a failure of a bodyguard, Jill's entire life was spent being someone's hostage (of both Rosaria and the Iron Kingdom), so they're the only pillar of support the other has. You can see the intent of their dynamic plain as day when Cid's trying to talk them into joining his merry crew of outlaws and Clive and Jill subconsciously hold hands and squeeze when they're nervous.
But to DO that right Jill has to be allowed to be her own character. Even in the Iron Kingdom level where Clive and Jill go after the High Priest because killing him is what Jill wants, in the ensuing bossfight Jill primes as Shiva while Clive fails to prime, and then instead of Jill taking charge she protects Clive while he fights the boss.
Seriously? One of them is flying around with literal god powers and the other has a bad case of Eikonic Dysfunction and rather than crush the giant lava monster herself, Jill makes sure Clive still gets to fight it in his puny human form and be the big hero? Come on. I was surprised that Jill still ran the High Priest through with her sword, I genuinely expected the game to take that away from her too.
Anyway she's obviously my favorite part of 16 now. Somebody's gotta be in her corner.
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Over 10 Summerweens ago]
Nny "That's your plan?! Keep him trapped inside your mind?! That's a shit plan! You do understand that's a SHIT plan, right?"
Dipper "Until I come up with a way to destroy Bill for good, it's the only plan I have to work with."
Nny "How did you trap him inside your head in the first place?"
Dipper "It was a happy accident. Dib and I were playing with this interdimensional scope and he just slipped back in, BUT this time, I know how to keep Bill from fully taking over."
Nny "Dib doesn't know either?"
Dipper "NO! He doesn't need to know! No one else needs to know! The whole damn point is to keep Ill-bay Ipher-cay off everyone's minds! If no one brings him up, it's easier to keep him from jumping into someone else's head!"
Nny "And you believe staying doped out of your skull is keeping him trapped? Aren't you in college? How are you supposed to function like this? For how long?"
Dipper "As long as it takes. Whatever keeps him from terrorizing my family.."
Nny "I'm not exactly the best person to give out life advice, but speaking as someone who has dealt with my fair share of cosmic horrors, I'm telling you THIS is going to backfire. Worst case scenario, the horrors consume you and drive you to KILL anyone who is able or willing to help you. Unlike ME, YOU have a network of friends and family who can help you. You don't have to fight these battles alone like I did-"
Dipper "I'm trying to protect my friends and family. This is a demon we've fought before. Please trust my judgment."
Nny "Trust the judgment of a 19-year-old frat boy covered in pot leaf decals trying to trap a demon in his head with micro doses of LSD... yeah, no. NO-"
Dipper "Stop calling everyone who made it into uni a frat boy! I'm not in a fucking fraternity! And forgive me if I don't trust the judgment of a man who once choked a woman to death with the chord to his headphones because she flashed a dead tooth when she smiled at you."
Nny "It was off-putting!"
Dipper "Grunkle Stan thinks highly of you. I WANT to believe you actually WANT to be apart of this family and you wouldn't try to hurt any of us, but I'm not altogether convinced. You want to convince me?"
Nny *frustrated growl* "Goddamn you, Squee, I can't believe you made me care about any of this-- YES, sure!"
Dipper "Ok, GOOD! Then keep your mouth SHUT and your short neck OUT OF THIS. Will you PROMISE ME, for the sake of this family's safety and possibly all of humanity's safety you will never mention this to anyone in this shack EVER?"
Nny "Son of bitch... yes. YES. Yes, I promise."
Dipper "Thank you. Let's get back upstairs before someone realizes we're missing."
Nny "Yes, LETS. That portal thingy gives off big moose wall energy and it's turning my stomach."
(A continuation of this dialogue)
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you think Nadia really feels like Nasmira (or her other siblings) would actually steal MC away from her? Despite their tense relationship with Nadia, I can’t really see any of them intentionally going after any of her romantic interests. It seems so callous, and all of them love Nadia to bits! Maybe it was her annoyance at her family showing up unannounced speaking for her? I’d love to hear your thoughts, as a fellow Nadi-enjoyer!
The short answer is yes. I do think that she felt like her siblings would steal MC away from her.
Now the long answer, aka an entire essay:
I honestly think that something happened in the past which made Nadi think that one of her siblings stole a LI from her. For example, maybe there was a visiting noble/royalty, and young Nadi (by young, I mean late teens/early 20s) had a massive crush on them. I hc her as someone who was quite shy in her youth, so maybe she never made it obvious that she was interested, plus she probably had no desire to tell her family about her feelings. Therefore, her siblings had no idea, and another one of the Satrinavas happened to crush on the same person. In the end, Nadi didn't get together with them, but her sibling did, which broke her heart to a million pieces. Of course, it was unintentional, but young Nadi was hurt and stubborn, so she thought they did it just to hurt her.
Anyway, back to the question. Even though she feels like they would, I don't think any of the Satrinavas have any intention of stealing MC away from Nadia, but the unannounced visit was definitely making things worse. Nadi was so pissed, and one negative thought usually led to another. It's no wonder she thought that they'd take MC away from her. In Nadia's eyes, MC is the whole package, the most perfect person to ever exist, and she wants them all for herself. She has been hurt in the past, and all she could see was that her family was coming to Vesuvia to take away everything that belonged to her: her freedom, achievements, and MC. If they really have "stolen" an LI from Nadia and now she has MC, who is a much better person than anyone she has ever encouraged, she feels like her siblings would want MC too (which they do, but this time, Nadi called dibs on MC and they respect that.)
And now I'm gonna say stuff that some people might not like. I think that the more mature Nadia tries to behave, the more childish she is. Yes, Nadia is childish. Nadia is a grown ass woman in her 30s/40s, and I know that she is well-mannered and serious, but she is far from mature. I love her, and you all know that, but our Countess is not known for making the best decisions regarding her personal life. Why is that? Because even though she hates it when people treat her like a child, she still behaves like one.
As the oldest child, I can honestly tell you that, yeah, we can be assholes, but we want our younger siblings to succeed in life without making the same mistakes as we did. We paved the way so that the younger kids wouldn't have to walk in mud. I'm certain this is what happened to Nadia, but she thought that her family was just babying her. In reality, they loved, respected, and supported her through anything and everything. They just wanted what was best for her, and our dear Countess Goddess Nadia Satrinava misunderstood the whole fucking thing.
Nadia is a more rational person, and perhaps empathy isn't her strong suit. Therefore, there is no way she could imagine the way her siblings view her. In addition, Nadia is stubborn, so even if her siblings tried to communicate their feelings and intentions, Nadia simply dismissed them and told herself that they were lying.
Feelings usually happen for a reason. In Nadia's case, they stem from misunderstandings because of her lack of empathy and stubbornness.
Despite everything I've just said, Nadia is a good person, but she was in desperate need of a reality check. For her, it was MC. It might take her some time to fully realize her mistakes, but without MC's help, she wouldn't have realized the true nature of her siblings.
And yet, I still fucking love her to death. This adds so much more depth to her character, but people usually fail to see it. She seems like she could never do anything wrong, but that is so not true. Nadia is the exact opposite of how she appears at first. She seems strong, but she is vulnerable. She seems mature, but she is childish. Nadia is probably the most misunderstood character I've ever seen in my entire life, and that is one more reason to love her.
In conclusion, Nadia is someone who struggles a lot with her feelings. She needs to keep a more open mind and try to imagine herself in people's places to avoid any further hurt. Her character is very complex and requires a lot of analyzing to fully understand, but that is what makes her truly beautiful. Nadia is the kind of person you can fall in love with at first sight, but to fully understand her, you might need an entire lifetime.
I might have gotten a bit carried away
#nadia satrinava#the arcana nadia#countess nadia#arcana nadia#nadia the arcana#nadia arcana#the arcana#arcana#nadia is still the love of my life tho
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
Am I the only that thinks hybe getting Jungkook to collab with usher instead of jimin is slimy as hell? I’m not saying it wasn’t out of convenience, usher and scooter Braun have a history (he calls him his soul brother) so getting him to collab with a bts member was surely appealing to usher anyone would jump at the chance but to not give it to jimin someone who’s expressed that this is someone he idolized growing up is shitty as hell. Not saying jimin wouldn’t be happy for Jungkook or be supportive but after watching the dance performance he compliments jimin so well. It’s a shame he’s a Zionist and all so in a way it’s a relief he wasn’t working with jimin but before that came out all I felt was anger for jimin tbh. It’s like if jimin collaborated with Justin Bieber someone who Jungkook has idolized and basically shaped his entire personality around. I know he would feel some type of way but one of my mutuals also said jimin has changed the last few years so maybe usher isn’t his favorite artist anymore and maybe that’s true but I doubt it. He has namedropped him many times over the years just like he did for fast and furious but I think jimin is not the type of person to reach out to an artist, at least from the very small collaborations he’s done he was the one that was always being asked. Sometimes I wish jimin took initiative because I do not want him to work with usher anymore but I would love for him to work with kehlani, h.e.r., mahlia, aamaree, ariana, lucky daye extc. There’s so many artists that would compliment his voice but I just feel as though he never feels the need to reach out like the other members do.
Mmm I don’t think it was slimy more like a wasted opportunity in general or something that could’ve had more artistic merit had he been involved with jimin. Like you have an artist like usher and then just shove him on a remix? Dumb. Fts should always be representative of bringing someone on that you feel could either bridge a gap to make a more complete song or enhancing it. Not just putting someone on the track just to be there. If you do the later, it just ends up sounding disjointed in the end. For example, I can’t imagine usher being on any song on face cause he doesn’t fit the vision jimin was going with. Jimin even said there were no fts on face because he didn’t feel right with someone else singing on tracks about his personal experiences.
In jk’s case, usher fits what he’s going for. Which is basically an imitation of him and several others. They’re collecting the major male solo artists to get them to collab with jk. Not only to bring him more clout but to also have him aligned with that image of the next big male soloist in america. Justin beiber is gonna be the last infinity stone in that gauntlet and we all know they probably have that lined up already.
It’s also kinda unrealistic to call “dibs” on an artist just because someone idolizes them. Chances are if another member genuinely wanted to, they’d approach them. Doesn’t make sense to put something that you already have planned on hold just to wait for person A, who has nothing planned with said artist, to maaaybe put something in the works with them, out of courtesy to them. I understand that the novelty of it might be dampened since someone in the group nabbed him first, but that doesn’t mean usher can never be utilized again as a ft. And the product from the second time around would probably be infinitely better anyway. (In theory. I’d rather him not work with him) It’s very easy to conflate all these instances as slights towards jimin since hybe is always working against him and maybe there is some hint of that in this decision, but it wasn’t their goal with this imho.
Claiming jimin doesn’t take initiative in terms of doing collabs is odd to me though, cause you can’t say that if it was never on the docket for him. I could understand if he was constantly teasing or nudging at usher for a collab, but he never has. He just mentions that he loves his work. And like I said, if he didn’t fit the vision then there’s no point of putting him on a song. I’m sure there probably are collabs for jimin in the future that he has planned. Good chance it won’t be with anybody who any of us envisioned (I’ve dreamed of him doing a collab with banks for ages) and that’s gonna have to be okay. Cause if it works and it works for him then 🤷🏾♀️
#I agree with there being a lot of artists that would compliment his vocals though#him and muni harmonizing on angel is what set off my entire jimin x female artist tirade cause they sounded amazing#also wouldn’t mind him working with ari if it’s in the cards cause I love her discography
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
ive been reading the samurai kirby novel test reads and oh Boy i am so so glad i called dibs on this novel ive been actively enjoying every second of it
tbh if theres like anyone Super looking forward to this novel, i recommend going in completely blind for a number of reasons. but to those who don't care here's some brief rambles
this novel has test reads published every week for a month like the rtdl novel, instead of just one test read about a week before the novel's release date like novels usually do. the rtdl novel i could excuse as being separate from the usual novels, but this is a bit odd. i guess im not complaining though, it means a lot more reading and content for me. currently there have been three test reads released so far
previous post about this novel, if you didn't hear before and want the full rundown
interestingly meta knight hasn't appeared yet, even though he seems to be super important from the synopsis and a duo with kirby for the book's major plot of retrieving the sword technique scroll
also related, the major plot of retrieving any sort of sword technique scroll has not even been remotely mentioned yet at this point
what has been mentioned, then? well first of all everyone lives under a brutal dictatorship. the lord of this place enforces strict and unreasonable laws and anyone who speaks ill of them are arrested. there's multiple occasions of characters freaking out and telling others to shut up in case the authority are secretly listening. according to a rumor from pharmacist scarfy and postman wheelie, dissenters also get taken from their houses at night and thrown into a dungeon never to be seen again, and that there were pained groans heard coming from the dungeon the other night.
its not stated but in my opinion this is definitely a kid friendly version of yeah the police totally torture and starve you. also the police are terrifying animated wooden mechanical puppets, said to be "bloodthirsty". anyways
the animal troupe is in fact this universe's version of beast pack. elfy and them are like a family in this and it makes me buckwild insane. leon acts like an overprotective dad
dedede has been mentioned. he's apparently a double agent against the evil lord and secretly protects everyone. actually really cool
meta knight has not been mentioned. magolor also hasn't been mentioned, but apart from being a sweets merchant he's also apparently a riverman, according to the character introductions.
clawroline wears a kimono. i love her. that's all i wanted to say with that
i was confused about this in my initial post about this novel but bandana waddle dee has been renamed to tenugui waddle dee in this novel, because he wears a tenugui (japanese hand towel) on his head instead of a bandana
oh yeah that brutal dictatorship thing i mentioned earlier? the main ongoing current conflict with that is that no one can eat dango or mochi because of it. that's literally the only thing anyone's mad about. who cares about having your rights being taken away if you can't have mochi i guess. very dreamland-core
anddd the town this takes place in is called pupupu machi (pupupu town) which im considering translating as cappy town, since Dream Town does not have a good ring to it. but i think Some anime haters would get Really upset if i called it cappy town so lol
#*gardening noises*#LATE NIGHT RAMBLE HOURS#kirby light novels#im going buckwild insane over this novel its so Much in the best way#AU NOVELS JUST KEEP WINNING
30 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey! i'm a gnc trans gay dude who uses she/her and recently ive been feeling kinda insecure about it like im faking or something 💔 also im tired of pretending fem she/her reader is about me. can i get hcs/scenarios of law, zoro, yamato, and one other character of your choice bragging about their gnc pronoun nonconforming boyfriend? only if you're comfortable ofc
dw pronoun anon we champion gnc transmasc solidarity in this house, fuck yeah expression doesn’t equal gender 🤝🤝
admittedly i've never used neos or interacted with anyone who does before so here's my preemptive apologies if i mess up ;0;
oh also i changed the limit of characters from 4 to 3 a while ago, just updating for anyone who isn't aware! :]
love this all trans lineup tho 🤭
bragging about their boyfriend who doesn't use he/him pronouns (Law, Zoro, Yamato)
he/they law, trans zoro
reader’s pronouns: they/them, she/her, it/it's, ey/em/eir, ve/vis
word count: 0.6k
Law
Being a he/they bitch himself, there’s no way in hell that Law would ever question your pronoun usage and anyone who does is getting their head swapped with their ass
He’s hardly the braggy type though, mostly leaving that to the chorus of his crew to pick on if you ever needed some extra support - of course, not a single one of them would bat an eye at it, either
They do, however, make a concerted effort to use your chosen pronouns more when Law gets a hint that you’re feeling out of it
“Tell ey to bring these to my office later,”
“It’s their turn on dish duty today, don’t let them out of it,”
“This is eirs, right? Toss it in the wash,”
All just slightly within earshot and casual conversation - once the captain starts, the rest of the crew is sure to follow, too
They don’t mean to be obvious, but the moment the Heart Boys (genderless) are tipped off that you aren’t feeling too hot, you’ll also be accosted here and there throughout your slump to conveniently do all the things you loved or at least enjoyed in their company
Even your partner themself is a little bit more cuddly in private during that crummy self-doubt day or week, not that he’d ever mention it, but that’s neither here nor there
Zoro
Zoro’s a bit (a lot) confused as far as neo pronouns go, but he’s got the spirit
He’s as transmasc as the next feral swordsman you’d find on the Grand Line, but pronouns have never really been a thing that he’s had to put too much thought into (in Zoro’s mossy brain: he/him is typically used for guys, so he’ll use he/him because he’s a guy, easy)
Zoro knows that’s not the case for you, though, so he’ll make adjustments to his vernacular accordingly
He slips up every now and again grammar-wise, using the wrong subject and possessive forms here and there, but it’s nothing that a quick correction can’t fix - he’s always at least a little guiltily pouty too, so you can’t really stay mad at him, honestly
Bragging, though, is an artform that Zoro is clearly familiar with
“In your dreams, Swirly, I’m clearly going to win because ve has my back!” (”Oh? So it’s not your own power then, Mossy?” //insert loud queer squabbling)
“Hmph, its MY boyfriend and it could kick your asses any day!”
“Doesn’t matter, this is vis and cause we’re dating I get half a dibs, ve’s a lot cooler than you all anyway,” (”That’s really not how that works, Zoro”)
A lot of these brags have to do with your power, forgive him, Zoro’s a very simple man-
There’s a very minor learning curve that some of the other Strawhats have to adapt to, too, but again it’s no real issue after the first week or so
Yamato
Yams is your BIGGEST cheerleader, he’ll bulldoze ignorant assholes out of the way for you and howl about how great you are and how much he loves you from the highest rooftop without even asking
He’s 100% supportive of your decisions and won’t stand for anyone who doesn’t (if you don’t want to cause a scene you may have a little trouble holding him back or have to discuss it with him beforehand because Yamato absolutely will call someone out on their bullshit when he sees it)
Sometimes you even get a little flustered or overwhelmed with the intensity and vigor that he supports you (very much the ’guns blazing’ type) but it’s all with an endearing air and the knowledge that Yamato only wants your best interest at heart
“Have you met her? She’s my boyfriend!”
“My boyfriend’s so handsome today, isn’t she handsome everyone?? <3″
“I love my she/her boyfriend!!! She’s so fucking HOT!!” [yelled from the tallest building in the Flower Capital]
Yamato is so embarrassing and openly affectionate the Akazaya are sick and tired of him, someone PLEASE leash this puppy and take him home, preferably away from them
#cebwrites#one piece#one piece imagine#trafalgar law#one piece law#op law#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar law headcanons#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar d water law#he/they trafalgar law#law x you#law x reader#law x y/n#law x male reader#law x masc reader#zoro roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#zoro x masc reader#yamato#yamato one piece#yamato x reader#yamato x y/n#yamato x you#yamato x masc reader#op yamato
73 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
karenfordonte
Caring For Donte
jaguarzulu1
Jaguarzulu1
maihuongthammyvien
maihuongthammyvien
trashyvampires
twilight trash
engineeringwannabes-blog
Saved the Best for Last