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5sospenguinqueen · 17 days

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Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

�� LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.

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evilminji · 27 days

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I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~

Wrong way Au?

It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.

Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!

Childhood.

Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.

And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.

Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.

Where the FUCK are they Clark?

According to the GPS?

Here.

(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)

Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!

Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?

Was... was that THERE a second ago?

Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.

Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.

And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?

Fuck ™.

Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.

They park.

There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.

Grinning.

Everything grinning.

As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.

They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.

Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.

Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.

Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.

Then they are noticed.

"Cousin!"

One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.

"LETS WRASTLE~!!"

He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.

By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.

Dives into the fray.

Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!

It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.

His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.

By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!

Clark... Clark is so tired.

He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!

They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???

So yeah.... no more road trips.

How was YOUR weekend?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

#minji's writing #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #welcome to the family au #fenton family reunion

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angelltheninth · 2 years

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Endurance Test

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, edging, cock riding, begging, cock tease, licking, dirty talk, cum shot, sub!Peter Parker, dom!Reader

Word count: 0.7k

Kinktober Day 6: Orgasm Denial

Ao3

A/N: I've really been looking forward to this kinktober fic. Peter is always so cute I just want to tease him and make him squirm.

Peter struggled to keep his hips from jerking upwards, his hands fisting the sheets so tight he almost teared them apart. But what could he do? You didn't restrain him but you still told him not to touch you. Which made it even more difficult for him.

"Easy. Don't twitch too much sweetheart." You mumble against the leaking tip of his cock, your hands fondling his full balls, massaging and squeezing, "You don't want me to choke do you?" You wink just before you take his cock in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to make the sucking easier.

"God. No, no but I- Please." He whines, low and almost teary eyed from frustration, "I don't think I can hold it for much longer."

You release his cock with a wet pop, moving your hand up and down, slowly from the bottom and then rolling your palm over the tip, making sure to spread his cum nicely. "Not yet. Just a little longer. Then you can give me every last drop." You make sure to look at him in the eye as your tongue darts out to lick the dripping bead cum flowing down Peter's hard length.

He bites his bottom lip, making it tremble upon release as another needy whimper escapes him.

"Poor thing. You're so hard. It must hurt a lot huh. How about I kiss it better for you." You trail hot, slow, deliberate kisses up and down his dick, making it throb even more when you give him a long lick from his balls all the way to the tip.

"I need to be inside you. I'm feel like I'm gonna explode." Peter pulls at the sheets, his hands needing something to tug, something to hold onto.

"I fully expect you to. And you've been a very good boy for me Peter. I should reward you now shouldn't I?" You run your fingers between your legs, briefly inserting one finger in, letting out a long moan. "Hear that? That's how wet I am for you. Let me show you."

You move and straddle his hips, spreading your lips with your fingers and rubbing his hard, aching cock between your wet pussy lips.

"Think you're ready for me? Hm?" You roll your hips against his cock, making another drop of cum drip onto his abs. He can't even form words anymore, he just nods his head quickly and whimpers out your name.

With a brief kiss on his lips you position yourself on top of him, nudging your opening with the tip once, twice, before you fully sink down on him without warming.

"Oh fuck!" Peter throws his head back, his hands leaving the sheets for your thighs, keeping your pinned against him, your hips fully against him. "You're so warm inside. Feels like my cock's gonna melt. God. Move. Move. Please. I need to come. I need-"

"Soon love, soon." You squeeze your cunt around him, focusing on his tip as you begin to move your hips ups and down, sinking all the way down each time. "Come when I tell you to. All of it. Make sure you give me all of it. Ready darling? Are you ready to give me all you've got?"

"Yes, yes. Anything. Everything. Please met me come. Please!" He starts to babble, his whole body shaking then snapping like a web thread once you nod his way. His hips start driving into you at full force, his cock shooting warm jets of cum deep inside your pussyhole, painting your insides white with his seed.

You're not far behind, especially when he looks so adorable and sexy underneath you. You start milking him with your cunt, intent on getting all of his cum.

"Holy shit." Peter throws his arm over his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly along with yours. You need to brace yourself on his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over him. "That was intense."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." You lean down to give him another kiss, longer than the last one, brushing your tongue against his. "It feels nice to let go of responsibility and control once in a while huh?"

Peter licks his lips and takes a deep breath, "I wouldn't mind doing it more often."

"I was really hoping you'd say that. Try to last even longer next time hm?" You clench around him again, getting another spurt of cum from him in return.

"No promises." He smiles up at you as he pulls you down and moves his head so you can rest on his shoulder comfortably, "But I'll try anything for you baby."

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker smut #peter smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #mcu x reader #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #kinktober #smut

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kitten4sannie · 6 months

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Omg congrats on 3k!! I'm so happy for you lovie!!🩷🩷🩷 So this is my first time requesting anything lol so bare with me 🥲 I'd love to see maybe a mean vampire seonghwa? Like mean dom? With all the filth you can add in! Like go crazy lol Again, congrats on 3k!! You deserve all the love and appreciation you get!🩷

🧋🩷

tysmm genesis !! that means a lot coming from you mwah >< <33 omg i’m so happy i can write your first ever request!! mmm filthy mean dom vamp hwa… yes yes, that’s something i can do~ i’ll def go crazyy (go stupid) don’t you worry about that hehe and i alsooo added san in there bc i’m weak kksjs ;;; i hope you enjoy my love 💞

⛧ seance smutfest ⛧

pairing: vampire lord! seonghwa x concubine! fem reader x vampire butler! san

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: mean dom! seonghwa (man’s a psycho fr), mean dom! san (follows his master’s lead <3), bratty sub! reader that fucks around and finds out, threesome elements, light mxm, sir kink, possessiveness, exhibitionism/voyeurism, manhandling, blood play, blood drinking (girlie needs a blood transfusion stat ^^’), biting/marking, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, dacryphilia, face/pussy slapping, choking, oral (receiving), fingering, brief tit play, hair pulling, overstim, masturbation, cowgirl, creampies, back shots, cum eating

Masterlist

“Pssst,” your roommate murmured, reaching over to gently tug on your nightgown, wanting you to get closer so that you could hear her over the loud, overlapping chatter of the other individuals in your shared bedroom. “Who do you think Lord Park will pick tonight?”

You scooted closer to her, eventually shrugging your shoulders. “Depends on what mood he’s in.”

She shuddered. “I hope he’s not hungry…”

You bit your bottom lip slightly, unconsciously patting the girl’s thigh. “Me and you both.”

She sucked her teeth, about to reply when a soft, though deliberate knocking sound interrupted her, followed by the distinct creaking of the centuries-old door opening just enough for you to see the castle’s chief of staff, Choi San, standing there with a candle in hand.

“Good evening, ladies,” he announced, bowing at the waist, acknowledging a few of your roommate’s replies. “Miss Y/N,” the youthful man addressed you with his usual warm, dimpled smile, idly resting his gloved hand against his coat’s lapel. “Your presence is requested in the Headmaster’s bedroom.”

The once lively room of concubines quieted down, their attention centered on you, a few of them swallowing nervously, despite not even being chosen themselves.

“Oh…right now?” you asked dumbly, playing with one of the ribbons on your nightgown.

The man nodded, taking a step back into the extravagant, dimly lit hallway. “Right now, I’m afraid.”

The girl near you patted your thigh just as you had done to her, making you wonder if she was trying to comfort you or was simply sorry for what you were about to endure at the hands of the Headmaster.

You followed San out into the hallway and began your journey to the grand master bedroom, requiring you to walk down the oddly long corridor and up a velvet trimmed staircase complete with a large painting of a strikingly handsome, forlorn man sitting at the very top, staring you down as you made your way up to it.

“San…” you began, turning to look up at the young vampire, his sharp features illuminated by the melting candle he held inside his gloved hand. “Is the Headmaster…” You bit your lip again, your pulse quickening. “…hungry?”

San’s dark eyes twinkled for a second, before turning into crescent moons, his lips twitching upwards, exposing his elongated fangs. “Oh, Miss Y/N,” he tsked, doing a scan over your body so quickly it almost seemed to happen in your imagination. “You should know by now that Lord Park is always quite famished.”

Seonghwa stood near his bedroom window, gazing out of it as if he were in a trance, his crimson eyes focused on the enormous, glowing moon that sat just above the dark forest below, almost appearing as though it were about to drop out of the sky at any second and destroy everything in its wake. When he heard a knock on one of his grand bedroom doors, he turned around. “Enter.”

“Pardon for the intrusion, my lord, but I’ve come to deliver your entertainment for the night.” San placed a hand on your back, coaxing you into the room.

“Entertainment?” Seonghwa chuckled lightly, taking a few strides in your direction only to tower over you, reaching down to run his fingers through your hair. “I think you meant my meal, did you not?”

“I’d like to see you try,” you muttered, swatting his hand away, making the vampire let out a low growl.

“Dinner and a show, sir,” San corrected himself, giving his Master a small amused smile, about to take his leave when Seonghwa snapped his fingers.

“One that you’ll be the audience for, San.” Quite pleased with himself, Seonghwa grabbed you by the waist and tossed you like a ragdoll onto the bed behind him before you could protest. “Now, sit over there–” He snapped his fingers at San, as he climbed onto you, pinning your flailing arms above your head with ease, smiling at the other vampire. “–and look pretty.”

“Yes, my lord,” San obliged, his dimples on display, sitting down in the large mahogany chair that was positioned near the edge of the bed and smoothing out his tailored coat. He smiled keenly at the sight and smell of your arousal now that Seonghwa’s hand was wrapped around your throat with his thigh shoved in between your legs, your nightgown already torn from your body and tossed onto the carpet below.

“Will you do me a favor and cum so we can get this over with, my lord?” you said as unamused as you could with cold fingers pressing into your throat, blinking up at the stern vampire hovering above you, your brain feeling delightfully dizzy.

Seonghwa leaned in towards you and inhaled the scent of your pleasure, enjoying the way he could feel your pulse racing against his fingers. “Looks like I have to break you all over again, don’t I, sweet thing?” he announced, feeling your heated body shiver against his when he began to grind his knee against your bare cunt, delighted with the slick sounds it was already producing. “You always give me problems, but you love this, don’t you? Getting treated like a little doll made only for me? Just makes you want to cum, doesn’t it?”

You felt Seonghwa’s fingers squeeze tighter around your throat, the deliberate rubbing of his thigh against your exposed clit making it hard for you to think straight. “I’m dryer than ever. There’s no way you’re–aaah–making me cum.”

“Oh, yeah? Watch me,” he whispered against your ear, shifting his fingers downwards just enough to sink his needle-sharp fangs into your neck, slowly gulping down your hot, coursing blood, his hand now cupped against your slippery cunt, your swollen clit rubbing relentlessly against the rough palm of his hand until you inevitably fell apart. Once you went limp underneath him, Seonghwa began to lick at the fresh bite marks he left with his forked tongue, chuckling at the small, withdrawn whimpers you let out when he reeled his hand back and smacked it against your cunt. “Hurts so good, doesn’t it?”

“How does she taste, sir?” San interjected softly, already palming at the growing tent that sat uncomfortably inside his buttoned, tailored pants.

“Delicious as always.” Licking his teeth, Seonghwa slowly climbed off of you and instead positioned you so that you were in his lap with your back to his chest near the edge of the bed, directly facing San. “On your knees, San.”

Within seconds, San was on his knees before the two of you, watering at the mouth. “Now what, sir?”

Seonghwa, who had his mouth latched back onto your neck and his hands exploring the expanse of your naked body, spit the blood out onto you, the three of you watching the crimson careen along your tits and down your middle, until it pooled near your pelvis, dripping onto your throbbing cunt. He bared his fangs at San, whose sharpened eyes were glowing brightly inside the dimly-lit room. “Lick.”

As soon as he got permission, San dove straight into your pussy, lapping at it like it was his life’s mission, collecting the beads of blood in his mouth, along with your wetness when he sucked at your folds and clit, spitting the mess of blood and arousal back onto your cunt, before slurping it all up again.

“Fuck,” you moaned, gripping San’s hair with one hand, encouraging the vampire to shove his tongue into your fluttering hole. You leaned your head back into Seonghwa’s chest, mindlessly grinding your cunt against San’s already messy mouth, your brain and body feeling too fuzzy to focus on anything.

“What a little filthy whore you are,” Seonghwa sighed onto your skin, one hand closing around your blood-covered tit to play with it, the other sliding down the middle of your abdomen until his fingers began to rub your clit in tight circles. “So willing to disobey, but so eager to feel pleasure, even from my own personal advisor. What am I going to do with you?”

You turned your head to look at him, answering snarkily, “Make me cum already.”

“I’ll make you cum, don’t you worry, slut.” Seonghwa bit at your earlobe, sending a few sudden harsh smacks to your clit, rubbing your stinging cunt afterwards, but being careful not to intercept San’s swiping tongue.

It didn’t take long before you were tugging at San’s dark locks and writhing around against Seonghwa’s body, taking a few more smacks to your swollen clit, making you cry out involuntarily.

“Well, would you look at that?” Seonghwa beamed to himself, licking up your release from his fingers. “How does the little whore’s cum taste?”

“Delicious,” San sighed, once he was done drinking up your arousal, licking up your cunt once again, this time continuing upwards to gather the rest of the blood that Seonghwa had spit out onto your body, eventually settling near your chest, taking turns shoving your tits into his mouth.

With his own mouth back on your neck, idly drinking more of your blood, and his fingers still rubbing at your clit, Seonghwa reached around your body to tightly grip San’s hair with his free hand, holding his head still so that he could watch San lick and suck on one of your spit-covered tits, making him groan. “Fuck her with your fingers, San.”

“Right away, sir.” Drool fell from San’s mouth as he pulled away from your chest, eagerly shoving two thick fingers inside your cunt, scissoring them apart just to hear you whine, before steadily fucking you with them.

“Now, stretch her open so I can fit my cock inside.”Seonghwa ran his closed hand up and down his slick cock, looking over your shoulder to watch as your hole swallowed up San’s ring finger.

The feeling of being filled and Seonghwa’s words alone made you tumble over the edge, causing you to toss your head back into Seonghwa’s chest and cry out.

San grunted, thrusting his digits up into you a few more times, your abundant wetness dripping down his veiny forearm and breathless moans leaving him with a satisfied smirk. “She’s ready for you, my lord.”

Whining at the sudden emptiness inside due to San pulling his fingers out, you were instantly gratified when Seonghwa lifted your hips up from behind and brought you down onto him, your cunt swallowing up his large cock inch by inch. “Oh, fuck–”

“God, you always take me so well,” the vampire praised, only waiting until he bottomed out to aggressively snap his hips up into you, forcing you to bounce on his cock, punching short, airy moans out of you with each thrust. “That’s it, that’s it. You’re my perfect little cocksleeve, darling. Fuck, just for me.”

The blood loss mixed with the relentless pleasure completely took over your mind and body at this point, leaving you in a fog. You wouldn’t come back to reality until Seonghwa sent a quick slap to your cheek, urging you to blow a few strands of wet hair out of your line of sight, gazing down at the grunting vampire below you, his fingers now rubbing over your stinging skin.

“Now, now, don’t pass out on me yet, darling,” Seonghwa urged breathlessly, admiring the way you looked on top of him with your nails digging into the flesh of his chest, his hands cemented on your bruising waist, drilling up into your cunt, hitting your g-spot dead on. “I still have more cum to fill you with.”

When more and more spurts of hot, milky liquid coated your inner walls for the nth time, your body felt so incredibly full, so intensely hot that you came again, so hard that you had fallen back into the other vampire’s chest, his soft, wet hair tickling the side of your cheek.

“How many times was that, San? How many times did I make this poor slut cum?” Seonghwa playfully questioned the young man, who was positioned behind you, with his pulsing cock grinding against your ass, currently leaving a few more splashes of cum on your slick skin.

“More times than I can count, sir,” San answered, out of breath, resting his chilled body against your overheated one.

“You hear that, doll? Even my most trusted advisor can’t keep up with the amount of times I’ve made you fall apart on my cock.” Without gaining a response from you, the vampire smacked his hand down against your reddened, used cunt, a few dribbles of cum leaking out down your inner thighs. “Aww, look at you. Poor fucked-out slut can’t even form words anymore.”

“T-too much,” you barely got out with the last of your energy, a tear or two escaping your half-closed eyes, dripping down your flushed cheeks.

Seonghwa scoffed, pressing his thumb roughly against your clit, rubbing it so quickly, your body began to shake. “Oh, is that so? Feels so good, you’re crying for us, hmm?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded your head, sniffling, too blinded by pleasure to be bratty anymore. “It’s all your fault.”

Seonghwa suddenly sat up from his lying position, instead pulling you more into his lap, his cock now thrusting so deep inside you, you were convinced you might actually break. “You asked for this,” he huffed out near your face, taking a second to lick up one of your tears, squeezing and rubbing your puffy clit between two fingers so roughly it sent intense bolts of pleasure through your body. “–so you’re going to take it like the good whore you are, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” you gasped out, your voice and body quivering from how hard you were cumming, suddenly getting your hair tugged back by San, his fingers gripping your chin, feeling his snake-like tongue cascade over your face. He licked up each salty tear that left your tired eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, Miss Y/N…” He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, pleased with the sounds that left your drooling mouth while Seonghwa filled you up with yet another load.

“That’s it, this pussy’s stuffed so full for me now. I bet everyone in the castle will know you’re my own personal cumslut, won’t they?” Seonghwa exhaled, a few thick beads of his cum leaking down the sides of his cock as he pulled out just to watch your hole flutter uselessly around nothing, having to grip his cock and guide it back inside due to how slippery the mess he had made was. “It’s going to be dripping out of you for so long, darling. But, don’t worry, I’ll always be here to fuck it right back in.”

You nodded your head weakly, accepting his fingers into your mouth after he reached down in between your messy bodies, tasting his salty release on his digits, his cock still pulsing inside your hot, cum-filled cunt.

San slowly zeroed in on the way the vampire’s split tongue lapped up the remnants of blood that decorated your bruising, bite-mark ridden neck, asking breathily, “May I have another taste soon, my lord?”

“Of course you may. There’s quite enough for the two of us.” He took your chin in his grip, pressing a kiss against your cheek, just near your mouth, pressing his thumb lightly onto your bottom lip. “Isn’t there, sweet thing?”

“But,” you murmured, giving him puppy-dog eyes, your hand resting over his. “I’ve been good.”

Chuckling lightly, Seonghwa leaned in to give you a chaste kiss, leaving you with a taste of iron, before gently nipping at your bottom lip with his fangs. “Oh, darling.”

Just when you thought he had some warmth left inside his frozen heart, his pupils formed into slits, his voice lowering just enough to send a chill up your spine. “You really thought you would get away just because you finally decided to obey me? Don’t be daft.”

Biting your lip enough to break the skin, you looked at him in silence, fear and arousal coursing through your body as Seonghwa moved down to your neck, hardly reacting when his fangs pierced into you once again, leaving a fiery, burning sensation in its wake.

San watched delightedly from beside you with his hand eagerly stroking his cock, his smile reminiscent of the Cheshire cat’s, knowing the fun they were having was far from over.

Seonghwa pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, your blood slowly dripping past his plump lips and down his chin. He gave you a soft, gentle smile, one that almost eased your rapid heartbeat until he reminded you of your fate yet again, his smile growing wider, his once shiny white teeth now stained with your life source. “I won’t stop until I have all of you, my dear…mind, body, and soul.”

You lowered your head down onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, blocking out the two salacious vampires for a moment in order to realize the extent of your pleasurable predicament. One thing was for certain — you were going to be devoured that night.

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ask #for genesis 🧋#ateez #⛧ seance smutfest ⛧#scheduled post #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa smut #san ateez #choi san #san smut #ateez smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #seonghwa x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader

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lamb-of-seven · 1 year

Text

Head-Canons for the Demon Brothers 4

Prompt: You Catch Them Masturbating

!!Minors and Ageless Do Not Interact!!

Content Warning: Very Suggestive. Discussions of Kinks and Sexual Fantasies. Descriptions of Masturbation.

It’s Sunday Smut-Day! So here is anouther HC of the Obey Me Demon Brothers. Enjoy!

Also I wrote this late at night and I do not feel like proof reading and editing it. I got work in the morning lol.

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Lucifer: My personal head canon is that Lucifer doesn’t often masturbate. I think he is a mix of too exhausted and too prideful to pleasure himself alone. However on the rare occasion he finds himself in the mood, I picture he primarily masturbates in the shower. To him its both more convenient and less messy, so he won’t have to waist time with clean up. Catching him in the act is nearly impossible. There is not simple, oops you walked in moment. Instead the only way you end up catching him in the act is either deliberately on his part or on your part.

One late night after a long week where Lucifer had gone on a major punishment rampage of HoL and all it’s inhabitants, some of the brothers (Satan, Belphie mostly) had dragged you into a scheme to mess with Lucifer. It started off rather innocent, after all you had to shoot down some of the brothers more dramatic plans. You were going to help by taking advantage of Lucifer while he was vulnerable and in the shower. You sneak into his room as instructed, with the devised paint bomb Satan told you to hide. While you creeped around his bedroom looking for the perfect spot to plant it, you hear Lucifers voice saying your name from the bathroom. You nearly jumped out of your skin, so sure he has sensed you somehow sneaking around his room. Before you could answer, you heard him calling your name again, more husky and deep this time, it sent shivers down your spine. It was commanding and frighting but exhilarating the same. You waited a bit now outside the bathroom door, waiting for him to appear, but he didn’t. You pressed your ear to the door and could hear the water in his shower still running. “mmh, MC, yes, just like that. Good Human. Know your place.” Your knees felt week as you listened to Lucifer’s voice moan. Is he… is he…oh god I can’t even say it in my head! You think to yourself, your face turning a bright red. You suddenly hear him grunting a bit louder and faster, knowing what was coming next. Complete shocked, aroused and a bit humiliated, you dash out of his room, still clutching the paint bomb. You ran past Satan and Belphie stuttering about how you won’t do it and locked yourself in your room.

Mammon: He’s such a Simp for MC, a partier, and some of his lines when you touch him are suggestive, no one can tell me he doesn’t jack off at least once a week. In my head cannon, Mammon prefers to masturbate in his room, but he’s greedy and impulsive so I could see him quickly pleasing himself in the Bathroom at RAD after having some naughty intrusive thoughts, especially about MC. Catching him in the act is almost too easy, and has probably happened more than once.

One night Mammon was chilling on his bed, completely nude and tossing and turning among his blankets trying to sleep. He was getting more and more frustrated as time passed, his cock semi hard and his mind racing. Ugh whatever, I’ll try jackin’ off. Maybe that will get me tired. Mammon simply laid on his back, his head resting into his plush pillows and blankets completely tossed off of him. One hand wrapped around his thick member as he slowly stroked it and rubbed the tip a bit with his thumb. His other hand scrolled threw some porno videos on his go too sight, and while they peaked some of his interest, he was struggling to get himself worked up. Mammon glanced around before bringing up a secret video/photo album on his phone. It was a collection of videos and pictures of you in poses or doing things he found erotic, like you bending over his pool table, or the time you all went to the beach together and he got to see you half naked. If you or anyone found out he had these photos he would be dead. He felt his cock start to pulsate and twitch as he watched one of his videos of you on the beach, sprawled out on the sand. He imagined what it would be like to fully undress you and tease you with his fingers tongue and cock. His strokes were becoming more erratic and his breath mixed with heavy pants and grunts. And that’s when you opened his bedroom door shouting, “Mammon, have you seen my…” You got a full view of Mammon, sweating, fully nude with his erection gripped hard in his hands. After a second that felt like a frozen eternity, Mammon shrieked, throwing his phone and covering himself with his blankets. You shriek back with multiple apologies, racing out of his room and slamming the door behind you. Mammon didn’t come out of his room for a week, which is completely not like him, even Lucifer was concerned.

Leviathan: There is no way around it, this boy is a shut in otaku who is so touches starved but too shy to ask, and wants someone to love him (and dominate him). My head canon that I think most of the Obey Me fandom can agree, he’s horny and masturbates a lot. Most likely he has a collection of Henti and toys (Not as much as Asmodeus, but a good amount).

Right in the middle of the day Levi was sitting in his gaming chair was such a throbbing boner that he couldn’t concentrate at all on his game. It was his turn to do laundry this morning, but you had left your clothing in the dryer overnight. He swears his actions were innocent. He wanted to make you happy, so he took you laundry out for you and started folding it, when he saw them. Your underwear. And not just any underwear, these were made of black silk, so soft and sexy. Since that moment Levi has not stopped picturing them on you, how they would softly pinch into your skin, making that cute slight pudge by your hips. T hey way your ass would look in them. The way the black silk would cling to your sex. He couldn’t take it. He abandoned his game and quickly pulled his pants and underwear down a bit to free his member. His cock sprung to life, the tip dripping with precum. He imagined your voice calling him a pervert. A blush formed across his face. He was so aroused that he didn’t even grab on of his toys or even any lube, instead he wrapped his fingers around his member and started to pump. His toes were up on his desk, gripping and curling, while his other hand gripped the top of the chair next to his head. He bit his lip, as he started to think about you straddling him in the underwear, calling him all kinds of nasty names, maybe even running your hands on his body, and licking him. Maybe if he was good you would let him put it in you? Maybe if he begged. Levi started to pump himself very fast now, huffing, and whining and moaning, his hips rutting into his hand as well, his orgasm approaching fast. “Hey Levi wanna play that new game you….” You entered his room without a thought since his door was unlocked. You knew you were suppose to knock and say the password but you were just so excited and now you knew why. The moment Levi’s eyes met with yours he couldn’t stop himself, his orgasm crashed down on him as his moaned/ nearly yelled your name, as ribbons of white exploded out of his cock, covering his body in his own fluids. Levi couldn’t remember the last time he had cummed so hard. However clarity settled in too fast as he screeched, sobbed and fell out of his chair trying to get his pants back on. You yelled out your apologies as you ran down the hall back to your own room. Levi was mortified. He, like Mammon, also stayed in his room, however for him it was well over a month. He couldn’t even say your name, and any attempt you made to interact would be ignored. It took him a while and a lot of work on your end for him to move past this.

Satan: Personally I don’t see him masturbating that much. I think he prefers an intimate interaction of self pleasuring, but that doesn’t mean he never does it. When he does its almost always after reading a really smutty scene in a book. I don’t think he uses any toys and prefers it to be in the comfort of his own room.

Satan had started a new book recently where the main love interest was described similarly to you. Sometimes he would even catch himself reading the characters name as your name, as the words came to life in his mind it was as if he was reading a wonderful love story between the two of you. And tonight he was reading a rather thrilling chapter where the two characters finally become intimate with each other. As Satan’s eyes hungerly read the page, he couldn’t help but notice his hips squirming, his bulge becoming more apparent, and desiring some friction. His one hand starts to rub his cock through his pants. As the chapters starts to vividly describe the characters fighting for their climax, he pictured both of you in that scenario, and the slight rubbing was not enough. He unzipped his pants, letting his cock swell in his hand and began stroking himself, never taking his eyes off his book. His breath coming out in pants as the characters get cloer like himself. He didn’t hear your knocks. You entered his room, just peaking your head in calling his name. He was reading on the couch and jumped when he heard your voice. Satan tried to loudly talk about anything while he stuffed himself back into his pants and hoped you didn’t hear him zip them back up. However when he saw your blushing face, he knew that you had caught him. It made his heart quicken and blush color his face as well. “I’m sorry, I see your busy I’ll go.” You say and quickly left his room before he could even tell you to stop. Unlike Mammon and Levi, he was only a bit embarrassed. He didn’t hide in his room at all. He actually found it a bit thrilling and erotic that you caught him.

Asmodeus: My head canon is that he purposely leaves his door unlocked or even open when he is masturbating. He is proud of his body and wants everyone too see him, sometimes hoping for someone to join in with him. Catching him is too easy. He’s the personification of lust so he uses everything and anything.

The first time you catch him is on a regular school day in the afternoon. Asmodeus was admiring himself in the mirror, his new skin care products made his skin look absolutely flawless over his entire body. As he stripped out of his uniform he couldn’t help but feel a bit aroused by the feel of his own body. His cock was already twitching and standing erect by the time his pants were off. His fingers slowly and erotically rand up and down his thighs hips and belly, sending shivers through out his body. If only MC would come join me and admire my beauty right now. His inability to charm you was a sore spot for him but thrilling to imagine that moment he wins you over. He imagines with on your knees, completely undressed for him, simply wide eyes as you marvel at his perfect body. Asmo closes his eyes and imagines all these touches come from your hands. Asmo reached for his sensual body lubricant as on of his many stimulating toys. He laid down in front of his mirror, going between glancing at himself and closing his eyes to imagine the two of you getting intimate together. His hands stroked his member sensually while the other used the toy on his most sensitive spot. He whined and moaned out. That’s when he heard a knock on the door and knew it was your knock. “Come in MC, Perfect timing.” Asmo said with a panting breath. You walk in thinking everything was normal, and let out a large gasp as you see Asmo on the floor filled with ecstasy. “I was hoping you would join me MC.” Your heart is racing and face is on fire at the sight and offer. However you reject it by stammering and leaving his room, unable to say a single cohesive sentence. Though it hurt Asmo’s ego that you didn’t stay was him, he took your cute shyness as a compliment and continued to imagine it was he climaxed. You’re the one at dinner later that night who can’t seem eat there food and was incredible distracted while Asmo kept giggling as he teased you.

Beelzebub: I feel like Beels Horniness is not that low but not that high. He’s like right in the middle. I think when he does feel aroused he typically masturbates. He’s the Himbo of the group and we love him for that, so I find he is super simple minded about things. For example, I feel hungry, so I eat. He feels horny so he jacks off. It’s just as simple as that. He likes his privacy so he will do it in places where he is alone like his room when Belphie isn’t there or the shower.

One day when Belphie was napping in the attack, Beel returned to his empty room after practice. He was already showered but still felt so achy and exhausted. He laid on his bed to take a quick nap and ended up in a very deep sleep. He was happy though because he was able to dream of you and the two of you were walking through a beautiful forest where everything was edible. You had gotten covered in rare sweet honey and allowed Beel to lick it off of you. In the dream Beel found your skin very tasty with the honey and you let him take off your clothing and cover you in more honey to lick. Beel got to kiss and lick new places on you and started to feel very excited. Even in his dream he could feel how hard and needy his cock was feeling. You had pushed Beel down and drizzled honey on his member and now you were licking him. The excitement of the dream resulted in Beel waking up from his sleep, his cock throbbing and wet with precum. Beel closed his eyes savoring in his dream as his strong hands wrapped around his thick member and pumped it to the same rhythm of your mouth in his dream. Beel let out low grunts and clenched his teeth as his continued to pleasure himself. “Oh Beel I’m glad your back I was just…” You were so used to safely walking into the twins room that you never bothered knocking. You let out of squeak when you realized when Bell was doing. Beel immediately stopped and sat up straight in bed, his face red and his words simple stutters. You both start apologizing. As you turn to leave you promise to knock next time. Beel was left to sit in bed debating if he should continue or if the moment passed and he should get a snack. I think he would have a hard time making eye contact for a good week. Until you both share a meal together and hes back to normal.

Belphegor: I fully believe he’s someone who will slowly jack off and half the time never finish before he either loses interest or falls asleep. I also thing that when he does fully masturbate, it’s if he can’t sleep and needs something to exhaust him, or he does it in his sleep when having a very vivid dream. Boy has more wet dreams than anyone. Catching him in the act is rare simply because it’s rare that he does it.

However on this particular night, Belphie was having such a hard time sleeping. He had been resting a lot recently since school was on break and now he was laying in his bed listening to Beel snore as time ticked on. Maybe a change of scenery would help. Belphie crept through the halls of HoL. He passed your room, noticing the door was slightly opened. He peeked in to see you soundly sleeping. He noticed half your body was uncovered, and your were sleeping in only year underwear. Belphie chuckled to himself, and closed your door. He moved on to the attic and got himself comfortable. As he closed his eyes, he noticed that the image of your near naked body wouldn’t leave his mind and his member started to twitch. Seriously Belphie whispered to himself. He tried to ignore it but he couldn’t and now he found himself fully erect. Belphie sighed and flipped onto his back. While under the covers he started to slowly pump his cock as it throbbed and tingled. Belphie bit on his covers as he started to picture you sleeping peacefully. A blush formed on his cheeks at the thought of him possibly entering your dreams and playing with your body, teasing you mercilessly. His pace quickened and he began to moan a little, his eyes shut tight. He didn’t hear your foot steps or see you enter the attack until he heard you gasp a little. He slowed his pace but never stopped and opened his eyes to see you wearing a robe. “I thought you were looking for me when you stopped by my room before ah, anyway I’m sorry I didn’t mean too..” You were a nervous mess and Belphie liked it. “You should be. This is all your fault MC.” You blush, and your stomach flutters. Belphie laughs a little as he sees your face. Your turn and run away. Now you’re the one whos too shy to make eye contact with him and avoid him and his endless teasing.

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moondirti · 11 days

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Hello! So not a request but a Dahlia thought: when getting to the boys place she's a little anxious but then she sees the perfectly set up spare room they just happen to coincidently have set up perfectly. And it's so comfortable and peaceful after a shit day and a equally shittier couple of months that reader just kind of releases the damn of tears. Which you know just inforcess that they are doing the right thing by taking her. It's for her own good.

PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 tags: simon x f!reader x johnny. alluded abuse (not by ghoap). kidnapping (but is it really kidnapping anymore?) pregnancy.

Their home is nice.

You don't know what you expected. Nothing bad, certainly – one look at their car and you guessed they were comfortable – but whatever approximation you rendered in your head didn’t come close to hitting the mark. Perhaps it was the remnants of your misgivings, then, that convinced you they lived in some squalid house off the side of the freeway. No one is kind enough to offer free room and board without there being some sort of catch.

But it's nice. Spacious. Secluded, though not to a concerning degree. You pass through a quaint town in order to get to it, and it's only another two miles out, tucked on the outskirts of a neighbouring forest. A two-story chalet, understated and painted dark to deliberately sink into its surroundings. If you had to guess, it was the pick of the one in the mask; the style suits him more than the other one, you think. Elevated inches off the ground. Weathered cedar exterior, softened by time, and a modest front porch with three Adirondack chairs positioned around a bonfire pit.

“Did someone else live here with you?” You ask, tucking your thumb into your bag strap as you follow them to the front door. The shorter of them throws a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed in an endearing way. “I just ask because– well, you mentioned a spare bedroom, and there are three seats out here. So…”

“Johnny’s mum stayed with us for a while after his father passed.” The masked one says, unlocking the entrance before pulling it open for you. Your heart twinges uncomfortably in your chest, and you give a sad smile to ‘Johnny’ on your way in.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

He appears astounded for a second, gaze flickering back and forth between you and his partner, before settling in place. “Ah, dinnae be. Wis a long time ago.”

You’re pleased to find that the interior is a lot brighter. Where the outside boasted a dark green paint job, the inside glows in a smattering of honeyed wood and sage tones. All open-plan; you can see the dining table and kitchen from where you step into the living room, brown leather couches serving as the only divisors of the space. You allow your eyes to rove over the walls, the plush carpets underfoot, up and over to where the lofted second-story overlooks the bottom floor. Large picture windows allow ample light to flood in, yet it seems to have the particularly concerning effect of illuminating how… empty it all is. Because apart from a strew of personal belongings – boots by the foyer, a half-filled water bottle on the breakfast bar, a coat thrown over the back of an armchair – there’s nothing to indicate that they actually live here.

For all you know, they could’ve rented the car and the house to lure you in.

A pit opens up in your stomach. You pat your pocket for your phone, then turn to where they await your reaction.

“I didn’t catch your names.” You ask, cringing internally at how straightforward you seem. You have to remind yourself that it’s better to be blunt, to scope this situation out before you’re in too deep. If it takes playing oblivious, then so be it. “I’m embarrassed I don’t know. You’re being so kind, after all.”

“Johnny. John Mactavish, if ye wanna be proper.” The Scotsman beams, stepping forward to take your bag off your hands, that which you tentatively. The other one merely stays still, peering out on you from above his fabric mask. You shift from foot to foot, waiting.

Eventually, he blinks. “Ghost.”

The pit deepens. You breathe through the nausea climbing up your chest. That’s not a name, you’re tempted to say. Tempted to take your bag back over your shoulder and call a cab. But it’s so early in the morning that you know you’ll have a hard time reaching one. And even if you manage, where would you go? Certainly not home.

The callous echo of your ex’s voice still bounces around in your skull. It’s just a matter of probability. Risk it here with these perfect strangers, who may or may not be ill-intentioned. Or risk it back home, with a man you know only means to do you harm.

So, you give them your name.

(Just the first. Though that isn’t without its precautions, either; later, when you finally tuck in, you’ll be sure to send your location and the name Mactavish off to a trusted friend.)

Johnny’s grin widens, something warm and molasses-thick radiating from the lines it carves into his cheeks. It’s so genuine, so welcoming and hospitable, that you have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. And however Ghost unnerves you, he’s obviously decent enough to have bagged such a positive force of nature. Decent enough to have offered you a ride, and a place to stay when you were so desperately in need of one too.

It all tallies up in your head, sand on a scale that dips in favour of one side. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the pregnancy hormones schooling your common sense into accepting the two, strong men who have demonstrated their willingness to provide – but you’re quickly softening up to the possibility that this is something good without exception. A reward for putting up with so much over the past few months. Some reality where life isn’t looking to beat you down.

If only for the night.

You blindly follow as Johnny gives you a brief tour. Their bedroom is just to the left of the living space, and he tells you to knock if you need anything at all.

“Ye'll be staying upstairs, hen. Unless th' stairs ur awfy much fur ye?”

“No.” You shake your head, stricken by the utter graciousness. “Please. I’m so thankful you’re helping at all. Upstairs is just fine.”

“Promise?” He demands, eyes wide like a quizzical pup. Ghost sidles up behind him, large hand clasping onto his shoulder, right where his shirt's collar ends to reveal the base of his neck. You stare at that touch, that point of skin-on-skin contact, for what must be too long before you can bring yourself to respond.

“I- Yeah. I promise.”

Your room isn't really a room at all, but a loft as large as half the first floor. Three walls and a missing fourth, polished wood railing and opaque curtains offering a degree of separation from the rest of the home. It's all you can do not to flop down on the bed immediately, stripping down to your panties and undershirt before relieving yourself in the attached bathroom.

Despite the modicum of hesitation still planted in your gut – which you doubt will go away until you’re absolutely sure you haven’t made yourself victim to a pair of crazy sexy serial killers – you unwind at record speed. Surprising how easy it is when you aren’t confronted with the burden of your real life. When everything is warm and provided for. When your bed is made with crisp clean sheets, a homemade quilt folded neatly on the edge, and the outside ambience isn’t singing drunks but quiet.

And of course, once your guard comes down, so too does your strength. A ball of devastation snowballs in your chest. Your sternum burns and your nose grows hot. You hardly remember to clasp a hand around your mouth before you burst into an ugly sob, fat tears slipping off your lash line. Only when a stressed hiccup seizes your frame do you become thankful for your sense; you’d really hate for them to hear you cry after having been so kind. You’re not ungrateful in the slightest, but already you prep yourself for the disappointment of returning home come night. A preemptive grief for the life you can never give yourself.

A chorus of morning birdsong and your own, miserable sniffles lull you to sleep.

if anyone's curious, here's the floorplan i used to imagine ghoap's chalet! (source)

#༄dee answers #ghost x reader x soap #ghostsoap #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #ghost #soap #x female reader #ghoap

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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months

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Say Yes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, heavy suggestive themes, protective!Boba, Mandalorian!Boba, light angst, non-descriptive sex

Word Count: 2.5k

A young, handsome bounty hunter on Tatooine makes it a daily intention to ask you to marry him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart riduur – partner / spouse “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde” – marriage vows

“Marry me, cyar’ika.”

You glance up from the worn open tome resting on the counter in front of you. “Again? Really, Boba?”

The Mandalorian helmet, dented with flaking green paint, tilts slightly to the right. “You called me ‘Boba’ this time,” teases the bounty hunter.

You roll your eyes and push off from the counter, cheeks heating even as you grumble in false irritation.

Boba Fett, Jabba the Hutt’s favorite mercenary for hire, has asked you to marry him every day for several weeks now. And each time, you have refused him. For the first few, you were overly polite. But as his attempts continued, your polite rejections transformed into snarky quips and blatant dismissals.

It’s not like you don’t find the man attractive. Underneath the armor is an incredibly handsome man, and his attention has always been sincere. But Boba Fett is a dangerous man, and you’re just a simple shopkeeper trying to make a living in Mos Espa. In that regard, the two of you are incompatible no matter how much he persists and chases after you.

“I like how you say my name,” continues Boba, his voice a soft purr. “Sounds beautiful on your tongue.”

“And you are too forward,” you snap, knowing that your sharpness is just a cover. Which is silly, because you do like him, and Boba seems to understand this. Boba burrows beneath your skin, and you cannot dig him out.

“Am I?” he asks with mock offense. You really want to throttle him, but you also really want to kiss him.

“Yes. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, Fett,” you emphasize, deliberately using his last name. “But a ‘no’ is a ‘no’ even if you don’t like it.”

Yep. Push him away. Keep pushing. Maybe he’ll take the hint this time.

Boba Fett stands tall, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped. With the helmet on, you have no idea what his expression might be or what he’s feeling. Not knowing is maddening, and it quickens your heartbeat, a growing tingle buzzing in the tips of your fingers.

“So, all those touches meant nothing to you?” he asks with just the faintest hint of roughness in his tone.

“Yes,” you lie.

Boba shifts on his feet, shoulders straightening. “What about all the kisses you’ve given me? Hm? Nothing?”

Kriffing hell, why is this man always so direct? It’s nice that Boba is good about telling you what he wants and what he’s thinking for the most part, but it always catches you off-guard. It makes you weak, melting you into goo that he can mold however he wishes.

“Those are not enough to build a marriage, Boba,” you shrug. “There has to be more.”

“But there is more.” He steps around the counter, stepping into your space. “Isn’t there?”

Boba is right. There is more. There has always been more. Whenever Boba is on Tatooine, he is visiting you, talking with you, bringing you gifts, fixing things around the shop without you having to ask. He has offered to take you out after you’ve closed shop. He routinely takes a personal interest in your safety and security. Because of that, no one bothers you or tries to harass additional credits out of you. They stay away and respect you because they see you as Boba’s woman.

And it isn’t only that. He only ever speaks softly to you. He only ever treats you with respect and shows general interest in your life. The most maddening thing is how many women have actively shown their interest in him to his face, and he has brushed them all aside. Even after all these refusals on your end, Boba still declines their advances, and shows up at your shop each day insisting that you marry him.

“Why do you keep denying this, cyar’ika? You know I’d make you happy.” Boba is standing too close, almost on top of you.

“The shop is closed,” you reply. “If you’re not going to make a purchase, you should leave.”

Boba nods his head and backs up, reaching for an item off the shelf without looking. He deposits some credits on the counter, much more than what the item is actually worth.

“I’ll return tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder, tapping the counter as he makes his exit.

The soft chime that alerts you to when the front door opens echoes throughout the room.

You’re in the backroom organizing. It’s the next day, and Boba hasn’t shown himself yet. This might be him, but it’s likely not. There are times when Boba does not come, and you are fully aware that those are times when Jabba sends him off for a job.

“Sorry. We’re closed.” You step out from the backroom and immediately freeze.

Three Nikto bikers loiter in the middle of the shop. It’s evident that they are not here to purchase anything. Their dark eyes roam over the shelves and tables, but once they notice you, they focus in, drawing closer.

“Apologies,” you say, attempting to project your voice, to sound tougher than you are. “We’ve closed for the evening. If there is something you need right away, I can ring you up. Otherwise, you’ll need to leave.” You do your best to keep your voice steady and calm, but you hear the gentle shake.

“This street is our new territory,” hisses the leader of the group. “We were stopping by to offer our…services.”

Services, meaning protection, meaning “pay us or you’ll be a target.”

Tatooine might be overrun with crime lords and criminal activity, but the main powers at play are not known to harass the smaller folks just trying to make a living. These are outliers. These are individuals who answer to no one but themselves, and believe they can carve a piece out for their own gain.

Rarely are they ever successful, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, the soft chime comes again. This time everyone turns and you sigh with relief when you see who it is.

“Boba Fett,” says the Nikto slowly. His shoulders stiffen and they all put their hands on their blasters.

The bounty hunter does no answer right away. His helmet moves, scanning the Nikto, and then you, assessing. Even from across the shop, you sense Boba’s anger. There are few things that rile him up, but you’re one of them.

“It’s not smart moving in on Jabba’s territory. Or to harass what’s mine.” When Boba says mine, he growls it. The possessiveness in his tone heats your flesh, sends a sharp spike of desire down to your belly.

The Nikto all glance at each other before the leader addresses Fett. “We didn’t know the female was yours, Boba.” He holds his hands out in a placating gesture, indicating that he didn’t mean any harm. Yet you know that isn’t true. Their intention from the start was to harass you for credits.

You scoff at female but decide to let it go.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” Boba steps to the side.

The duo glance at their leader for direction. The Nikto’s features are impassive, but he eventually inclines his head, exiting as Boba insist they do. When the last one leaves, Boba momentarily glances in your direction. The door stands open, and Boba exits with him.

When it whooshes shut, you sprint over to the wall panel, immediately engaging the lock and shuttering the windows. You stand in the silent shop for a few minutes trying to calm your heartrate. Once it’s manageable, and not beating so hard it might burst from your chest, you head upstairs to your small apartment above the shop.

By the time you’re curled up in bed, you’re no longer anxious, but there is the slightest bit of tension that lingers in your limbs. Sighing, you turn over in the bed, only to hear the brief pulse of a jetpack shutting off and boots on the small balcony outside your bedroom window.

Slowly, you push up to sitting, the bedsheets falling to your waist. You know it’s Boba. He does this some nights. Camps out and protect you in the only way he knows how because you’re too stubborn to take him up on his numerous marriage proposals.

Tonight, it’s obvious as to why he’s out there. Part of you is reluctant to leave him outside. You’d prefer it if he were with you, within arm’s reach, to see him without the helmet. Plus, nights on Tatooine can grow cold. You want him inside where it’s warm.

On quiet feet, you go to the door that leads outside. Opening it silently, you stick your head out into the chilly air, finding Boba as he leans against the exterior wall, arms crossed.

“You should be in bed, cyar’ika,” chides Boba playfully.

You swallow, suddenly nervous now that you’re confronting him. “Do you want to come inside?” you ask, a bit hesitantly.

Maybe it’s the uncertainty in your tone, or the way you shrink back a bit into the interior of the room, because Boba is suddenly alert, all of his attention attuned to you.

Boba immediately pushes off from the wall and approaches you, his hand on the door, pushing it wider. “Are you hurt? Did one of them touch you?”

You shake your head vehemently. “No. I’m fine. Promise.”

Boba’s chest heaves slightly but you’re not sure if it’s from his sudden movement or a releasing of relief. He glances over his shoulder at Mos Espa, the t-shaped visor of his helmet fixated on the city’s skyline. Turning back, Boba nods.

You step away from the door and Boba enters. Even with the door closed and the windows’ shutters slanted to dim the moonlight, some of it still spills over the room like tiny white rivers.

His helmet hisses as the pressure seal disengages. Slowly, Boba lifts the helmet off his head and sets it aside on a nearby table. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, the ends sticking up slightly after he does so. With the faintest movement, Boba turns, and that moonlight cuts sharp glowing lines over his face, highlighting tanned skin and dark eyes.

You don’t even realize you’re moving closer to him until Boba grabs you by the waist and pulls you against his armor-clad body. Instinctively, your hands reach out, locking onto the beskar. Boba’s head dips and yours rises to meet him automatically, and yet there is no connection. It is simply holding, a waiting between two hesitant people.

“You haven’t asked me to marry you today,” you murmur.

The corner of Boba’s lips turns upward in a soft smile. “Will you marry me, cyar’ika?”

“No,” you say automatically, before the two of you start laughing.

“Let’s try that again.” Boba reaches up and cradles your cheek. “Cyar’ika. Will you marry me? Will you allow me to speak the words of my people? And will you speak them back?”

The words of his people. The Mandalorian marriage vows. You are distinctly aware of what they are and what they mean. Which is why Boba’s earnestness isn’t fake to you. Mandalorians take their weddings vows seriously even though the process of exchange is simple. It is the intention behind the exchange that is most important to them.

That is how you know Boba speaks the truth, that him asking you to marry him is a genuine desire of his.

“Passion does not make a relationship,” you reply.

The answer is a shift away from actually having to answer. How many times have you and Boba ended up on the floor of the backroom after rejecting him? It’s more than you can count on your hands.

“That’s all this is to you?” he laughs. “You know I can give you more. I do more than that now.”

You curl forward a bit, rest your forehead against the beskar. “I’m scared,” you whisper.

“Of what?”

“Of what will change.”

Boba’s fingers brush under your chin and lightly guide your gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t ask you to give anything up.”

“Yes, but—”

Boba gives the slightest shake of his head and you instantly quiet. “Do you want me?” he asks. “Tell the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I want you,” you breathe, allowing the words to drip off your tongue.

“May I have one of your kisses?” he asks softly, one gloved thumb lightly pressing down on your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you breathe.

Boba closes the distance, forms perfectly to you. It is slow and delicate and sweet. Your body hums with energy, and when you press for more, Boba growls and pulls back, hastily ripping off his gloves to reveal his bare hands.

Then he’s cupping the side of your face, drawing you back to him, tasting and tasting and tasting until your fingers are clawing at him in desperation. When he breaks the kiss, you still lean forward as if you can reach him.

“Then repeat the words with me, cyar’ika. Become my riduur.”

Boba presses his lips to yours, draws forth an air-stealing shiver from deep within your lungs.

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.

We are one together.

Boba slides an arm around your waist to drape softly over your curves. “Mhi solus dar’tome,” he says.

You say it back to him. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one when parted.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

We share all.

This time, Boba slots his pelvis against yours, and you understand his heated intention.

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde,” you say with shaky breath.

We will raise warriors.

Boba snuggles the side of your neck, breathes in your scent. “I’d like to lay with my riduur.” His fingers find the edge of your sleeping robes.

“As long as I can have my riduur the same way.”

Boba grins against your throat. Together, the two of you remove his armor, piece by piece by piece. The moment his flightsuit is unzipped and he steps out of it, Boba is on you, drawing your lips to his, desperately claiming what is now so rightfully his.

Your own clothes are gone before making it to the bed. Boba runs his hands over your back, sliding down to lift you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his middle, and Boba carries you off, placing you gently onto your back.

His mouth upon your skin is a brand. Hot. Searing. It goes lower, lower still until you’re crying out for him, begging for him to be with you as your riduur should. Boba is happy to do so, sliding between your thighs so perfectly, you both lose yourselves momentarily before becoming nothing but a raging storm, waves crashing into each other repeatedly until one of you breaks.

Rest does not come until the morning suns begin to ascend over the horizon. You do not open your shop. And Boba does not return to Jabba’s palace.

There is peace for a while.

Harmony.

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wreckedandpolemic · 2 months

Text

to my knees you do promote me - matty healy

prompt: queen of hearts

(mdni) day 6 and my final entry into valentine75! these were soo fun thank u vee @abiiors

warnings: sub!matty, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex

Your leather pants cling to you fluidly, like a second skin, matching gloves stretching up to your elbows. You pose dramatically, raking a hand through your hair and pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek, savouring the way Matty’s gaze burns against your skin. He doesn’t know where to look, eyes darting wildly from the laces that cross over a strip of bare outer thigh; to your bare stomach, silver jewellery adorning your belly; to your tits, cradled in a black lace bralette with straps crossing your décolletage in a way that’s reminiscent of a harness.

“You like it?” you ask, smirking as he swallows thickly.

A charged, silent moment passes. “You can’t wear that,” he finally gets out, voice low and gravelly.

You take a deliberate step towards him, boots clacking on the wood floor, lips stretching in a predatory grin when he flinches. “Why not?” you pout, “Don’t I look hot?”

Matty’s answer comes embarrassingly quickly. “God, yes,” he groans, eyes lidded as his gaze sends heat flushing under your skin. “You can’t wear that, ‘cos I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

Laughing to yourself, you close the distance between you and sling your arms around his neck. Matty stiffens, a trembling breath ghosting over your lips. “Can’t control yourself, hm? Am I driving you crazy, baby?”

“Mhmm,” he murmurs. You can see him slipping, eyes glazing over, wide and needy.

You grin, sly and teasing, and reach down to palm his cock through his jeans. He whines softly, already melting in your hands, pliant and sugary-sweet under your touch. “Oh, baby,” you murmur, tone drenched in faux concern. “You need it, huh?” High spots of colour paint Matty’s cheeks and his eyes fall to the ground as he nods. “Words, baby,” you instruct.

“Want you,” he says, the confession coming out quiet and penitent. You press a kiss against the corner of his mouth in reward, his lips twitching in a pout as a silent plea for more. “Please,” he adds, anticipating the words balanced on the tip of your tongue.

Matty’s hips jerk involuntarily against your hand as you slip your hand into his boxers and squeeze lightly. “Such a good boy,” you coo, admiring him as your words pull him deeper into that soft, malleable state. Getting him like this is rare, and you usually don’t get a sign before it comes on; Matty has a tendency of bottling up his stress until the glass shatters under the pressure and he comes to you pleading to lose control. “How do you want me?” you ask, still stroking him gently. Matty shudders, cock drooling into your fist.

It’s not always like this, all whispered praise and reverent quiet — sometimes, Matty needs some coaxing to let go, pushing back against you defiantly until you can bend him enough to fall. “Want your mouth. Please.” He’s quiet but sure, and you smile indulgently at him.

He inhales sharply as you drop to your knees in front of him, nuzzling your cheek against his clothed cock. A whine falls from his lips, so pathetic that you almost feel guilty about the scant tease. You free his cock, kissing the flushed head, crooning praise as he fights to hold still. “My pretty boy,” you murmur, watching through your lashes as a flush spreads over his cheeks and he smiles shyly. “Such a pretty dick, too,” you add, stroking over him and relishing the way he moans and shivers under your touch.

You run your tongue along the length of Matty’s cock, the salt of him intoxicating in your mouth. Your name falls from his lips, rapturous, as you swallow him whole. His head lolls back, his moans a litany that has heat buzzing under your skin. There’s power in this, in reducing him to a needy, obedient mess; him who bends you over and fucks you until you’re crying, who fists a hand in your hair and whispers sweet cruelties in your ear, who tells you shut up and take it like a good girl.

Desire throbs sickly in your gut. You press a hand between your legs and grind down against it, moaning around Matty’s cock as it bumps the back of your throat. Pulling off, you lap at his tip, thin tendrils of pleasure curling up your spine as your hips roll against your hand. You go to take him in your mouth again but he stills you with a gentle hand.

With a question in your eyes, you look up at him. “Wanna get you off,” he says, eyes wide and glossy with desire.

You smile up at him, his face open and earnest as you stand to face him. You press your lips to his, swallowing his whine as he tastes himself on your tongue. His kiss is shy as he accepts whatever you give, controlled and ascetic. “Such a sweet boy.” You walk him to the bed, pulling him down on top of you without breaking the kiss.

Inhaling greedy lungfuls of his quiet moans and shuddering breaths, your hands slide to the laces of your pants and you start to untie them. Matty’s hands tremble as they come to cover yours, the knots coming loose under his touch in a way your body recognises. His eyes don’t leave yours as he makes his way down your body, his gaze sparking heat under your skin that drips down your spine and pools between your legs. You tangle a hand in his curls as he tugs your pants down just enough to fit himself between your thighs, his pained whine syrupy-sweet against your skin when you tug at them just slightly.

White spots dance across your vision as Matty’s lips connect with your skin, his tongue insistent and feverish over your clit. You moan softly, pleasure rolling over you in gentle waves; he takes the sound as an encouragement, redoubling his efforts with fervour. He’s losing himself in you, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue roves over your cunt, teasing your clit and then dipping inside you, back to your clit before you even feel the loss.

“Good boy,” you say, cunt clenching around Matty’s tongue as he fucks it into you in a gorgeous, deliriating rhythm. The praise has him reeling, his hips grinding down against the bed as he whimpers into your cunt. “I love you like this,” you murmur sweetly. “Don’t care about getting off, do you? Just wanna let me use you, hm? Making me feel so good, Matty. So fucking good,” you promise, carding your hands through his hair as he brings a hand up to you with your clit, a burst of pleasure buzzing up your spine when he rubs a skilled circle over your sensitive nerves.

“Wanna make you cum,” he whines, pleading, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. The calloused pad of his finger brushes divinely against your clit, the scrape sending a thick pulse of heat winding around your organs. Your responding moan has Matty burying his tongue in your cunt, devouring you with a ferocity that sends ecstasy ricocheting through your body, your hands fisting in the sheets as you moan and writhe uncontrollably.

His hips grind down against the sheets brainlessly, his body chasing his pleasure while his mind is singularly focused on yours. Desire ramps up under your skin, setting you aflame. Blood pounds in your ears, your world tunnelling down to where Matty’s hands grip your thighs, where his fingers circle over your clit, where his tongue thrusts in and out of you in an earth-shattering rhythm. His nails bite into your tender, sweat-slick skin, the faint edge of pain tracing lovingly around the curves of your arousal.

“God Matty, fuck,” you whine. “Feels so fucking good. God, I love your fucking tongue. My good boy.” He doesn’t let up, practically dragging your hips down to fuck his tongue impossibly deeper into you, until your body can’t take it anymore. Your hands fist in his hair as your body catches alight, screaming his name as you soak his lips and chin. Euphoria pumps in your veins, your heart working in overdrive as it seeps into your organs. All the air leaves your lungs, pleasure choking you out, Matty’s tongue still working over your clit as your cunt clenches around nothing.

You come back to your senses and Matty’s eyes meet yours, pure adoration passing between you. Need is written openly on his face, underlined by his flushed, drooling cock hanging hard and heavy where he kneels between your legs. “Can— can I cum? Please?” he murmurs, hands hovering nervously over his stomach, his body a hard line of tension that hangs on your strings.

Slowly, you move around the bed, stripping out of what remains of your clothes and helping Matty out of his. You climb over him, resting your hands on his shoulders and pushing gently. “Lie back, baby. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

He nods obediently, letting himself fall against the pillows, his eyes glued to your slick, messy cunt as you lower yourself onto him. His name falls from your lips in a low moan, the stretch in your cunt familiarly divine, burning pleasure pulling at all of your limbs at once. “You feel so good,” Matty whimpers, hips bucking and striking that perfect spot inside you that sends ecstasy careening through your bloodstream. “I love it when you fuck me like this. So fucking pretty,” he moans.

You drive your hips down at a punishing pace, eyes rolling back in your head as your moans mingle with his in the air between you, thick with molten desire. Bracing your hands against Matty’s chest, you lean down to kiss him, swallowing his gasps as his hips meet yours, heat kissing up your spine. “Doing so good, baby,” you murmur, losing yourself in his eyes, so wide they look black, so liquid you could drown in them. “My good boy,” you promise, sitting up and clenching your cunt around him, his quiet whimper sweetly pathetic in your ears as you roll your hips.

Nails biting into your thighs, Matty’s breathing turns sharp, unsteady. His hips crash wildly against yours, delicious arrhythmia pounding between your bodies. Your head tips back and your mouth falls open in a gasp, sticky heat pooling low in your belly. “‘M so close,” Matty whimpers, eyes falling closed as he writhes powerlessly under you. “‘M gonna cum, can I cum, please, please, please.” He draws the words out, stretching them into a sweet, broken moan that squeezes around your heart before kicking fiercely in your cunt.

“Hang on for me, just for a minute, okay, baby?” His eyes go wide, fearful, and you press a finger to his lips to silence his protests. Pleasure arcs up your spine, sharp bursts following every movement of your hips. Gazing down at him, you catalogue every inch of his face, scrunching in effort of holding back. “Good boy,” you murmur, the vast chasm of ecstasy yawning beneath you threatening to swallow you whole. “You wanna cum?” Matty nods, his whole body trembling feverishly. “Then cum for me, baby.”

The moan he gives is enough to tip you over the edge, plummeting into ecstasy so deep you lose yourself in it, stomach twisting and head coming unglued from your body. Matty’s cock pulses gloriously inside you, pumping you full as your cunt clenches around him, euphoria flooding your limbs. You slump forward, pulling Matty with you as you roll onto your side and slinging a leg over his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin there.

You run your fingers through his curls gently, curling close and basking in the warmth of his body all around and inside you. “Such a good boy,” you murmur fondly, eyes slipping closed as you press a kiss to the top of his head. “My good boy.”

#starting this by describing reader's outfit feels a Little bit ebony dark'ness dementia raven way #but i feel like the vision was needed #also sorry for saying leather pants i promise im from the uk #trousers is just a deeply unsexy word #matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #valentine75

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jpitha · 6 months

Text

They can't edit all of us, can they?

Peme stood at her full height, just a touch over two meters. She knew that the humans thought that she loomed and tried not to. Now though? She felt some looming was necessary.

"You want us to do what?"

"I want everyone onboard to watch Eva fix the FlashWarp engines. She's going to be narrating what she's doing to everyone so we all have to pay attention and listen the whole time."

Peme's lacquered claws, painted a stunning purple, slid in and our of their sheaths. She was used to the humans being odd, but this was something else. "Humans are forbidden from touching FlashWarp engines, everyone knows this."

"Yes, but do you know why?" Peme didn't know this human. She was pretty sure she was just a passenger, sent along to guard some kind of special cargo. She didn't appreciate being spoken to like this. Her fur started to bristle.

"We do not need to know why. Flash Incorporated sent out the memo stating that no humans are to even touch FlashWarp engines on pain of losing the license to operate them. No captain wishes to risk losing their livelihood over some humans who want to tinker." She leaned over, deliberately trying to tower over her. "Who are you anyway?"

Peme found that most humans tended to shrink back, at least a little, when she stood to her full height and figuratively threw her weight around. Her race was as tall as the Gren, but had been friendly with humans ever since they entered Coalition space. This human was unfazed by her body language. For some reason that worried Peme more.

"I am Agent Meredith Calvin, Human InterDimensional Authority, and I am declaring an emergency."

Peme laughed. She couldn't help it. She had never heard of the Human InterDimensional Authority. "You? Are declaring an emergency? The engines have failed and we're going to be late to our destination. It's not anything world ending. Besides, I'm captain here. I declare emergencies."

"I apologize Captain, but you are no longer in charge." She handed Peme a card that flashed a holo with her face, some minor biometric information and the name of her organization. When her eyes reached the bottom a note told her to flip the card. When she did a completely different holo flashed, this time from Coalition Authority. It stated in no uncertain terms that if Agent Calvin provided this card, she was declaring herself in charge of whatever vessel, organization or operation was underway and would be obeyed until such time as she relinquished control. It was signed with the biometric signature of all ten Coalition Authority Members. Six signatures were all that were necessary to pass new regulations.

Peme know the old joke that all ten Authority Members couldn't even agree what to have for lunch, let alone pass laws unanimously.

Unconsciously, she took a step back from Agent Calvin. She held the card with two claws, as if it would burn her. The humans expression did not change. "Call the crew. Everyone needs to watch Eva repair the drive." Agent Calvin spun on her heel and walked out of the Command Deck. When she reached the door she stopped. "I mean it, Captain. Everyone. I will be conducing a census when they arrive. All stations are to be abandoned, else this will not work."

It took a demicycle for Peme to round everyone up and explain what was going on. She had to explain at least five times that Agent Calvin was in charge by direct order of the Coalition Authority and she had no idea what was going on either. Finally, everyone was squeezed into engineering. There were thirty of them, with almost all of the Coalition sapient species represented. Eva looked on nervously. "Meredith, are you sure this is the only way? I don't like having such an audience."

Agent Calvin smiled gently. "I'm not a fan of it either, but it was the only thing I can think of. I really don't know what will happen, but if we don't try something we all will die for sure." She turned and addressed the crowd. "I apologize for throwing my weight around and leveraging my authority with the Coalition, but I truly believe we are in a life and death situation, otherwise I would not have done it. Everyone here knows about the prohibition on humans touching the FlashWarp engines, correct?"

Nods and sounds of agreement from the assembled crew.

"The reason for that is Secret. However, given these circumstances, I am willing to share the bare details. When a human works on a FlashWarp drive, and that drive is activated, they become edited out of this timeline. Not only do they cease to exist, but the timeline is... edited such that they died cycles earlier. We only know this because the last person to speak to that human remembers them."

There is a rise of confused mutterings from the crowd.

"You don't have to believe me. In fact, it might be easier for you if you think I'm lying." She cast her eyes around the room. Everyone was watching her. "However. While Eva repairs the drive, you all must be watching, paying attention and listening to Eva. She will narrate what she is doing. You don't have to understand the details of FlashWarp theory, you only have to listen."

From the rear, a feathered sapient raises an arm-wing. "But why?"

Agent Calvin smiles. "That's a good question. I am hoping that if we're all watching and listening to her while she works, that when the drive is activated, she won't be edited out of this timeline. Kind of a 'they can't take all of us' kind of thing. If we're all the last ones to speak with her, then maybe we can keep her in this timeline." She turned to Eva. "Okay Eva, please begin."

Eva sighed and turned towards the stricken engine. "Okay... so I think that what is wrong is the inner compensator has developed buildup as a result of...."

Over the next two demicycles Eva narrated her repair of the engines. She detailed the diagnosis, disassembly, repair and reassembly of the engines. Agent Calvin walked around the cramped room while she worked, making sure everyone was paying attention. People would ask questions as she worked and Eva wound up giving a lecture of the ins and outs of FlashWarp technology.

Eva secured the last panel. "Okay, it's fixed." She turned to Agent Calvin. "Now what, Meredith?"

Meredith stood on a chair and addressed everyone again. "Eva has finished, but nobody is to leave yet. Just as a precaution, I have locked the doors."

The crowd began to shuffle and make nervous noises.

"I apologize, but it is a necessary step. We are now at the most precarious part of this experiment." Meredith looked down at her pad and checked some settings. "Captain, will you please come here and verify our destination?"

Peme lumbered over and looked at the human's pad. "Yes, that is where we were going. How did you-"

Meredith looked up and put her index finger to her lips. "Some things are still classified Captain. I can control the ship from here, but only during emergencies." She turned to Eva. "Okay Eva, please address the crowd."

Eva looked up, her eyes wide. "What? What do I say?"

Meredith shrugged. "Anything really. But everyone has to hear it. You have to be talking to everyone."

"Uh" Eva looked at the crew. "Thank you for watching me work. I was a little nervous at first, but I liked explaining what I was doing as I was doing it. I think it helped with my troubleshooting process."

Without saying anything, Meredith activated the FlashWarp drive.

Around the drive grew the prismatic field. Completely surrounding the drive in a beautiful light, it gave off a slight hum. Everyone watched, mesmerized. Most had never seen a FlashWarp drive activate. Peme and Meredith watched Eva. After a demicycle, the prismatic field faded and the engine shut down.

"Is everyone still here?" Meredith looked around. Noises of confusion and assent came from everyone. She looked over at Eva who shrugged.

"I'm still here."

Peme let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "So it worked then?"

Meredith grinned wickedly. "It appears so. Come, let us go to the Command Deck and see where we are. Eva, please accompany us. You should get to see your handiwork firsthand."

Peme, Meredith and Eva made their way to the Command Deck. It was empty while they had warped, but as Peme opened the door, there was a prismatic flash.

Sitting in the command chair - lounging really - was a being. They didn't look like anyone that Peme recognized. They had bilateral symmetry two legs, two arms and a head, but that was all she could make out. The rest of their details were hidden by the blinding prismatic FlashWarp field surrounding them. They stood and put their arms on their hips, akimbo. "Ugh. Humans. Always looking for the loophole, aren't you? I'm sure you feel incredibly smug about this whole thing, don't you?"

Meredith crossed her own arms across her chest. "It worked, didn't it. Eva fixed the drive, and your stupid copy protection wasn't able to edit her out."

"That feature exists for a reason, human. We cannot have you reverse engineering our drives that we graciously licensed to the Coalition. We didn't even have to do it you know. We could have let them develop FTL on their own. You have your Flip drive after all." They sounded bitter as they spoke. Peme wondered how she was able to understand them. The being didn't seem to be wearing a translator, yet she was speaking Peme's birth language.

"So you expected us to die awaiting rescue instead of trying to save ourselves?" Meredith took a step towards the being. "No. I will not be the cause of pointless deaths."

It surprised Peme how much nuance they were putting into their body language, being that she could only see their outline. It was clear they were annoyed. "And whose fault it that Agent Calvin of the Human InterDimensional Authority? Who decided that this run was going to go without a filed transit plan, so nobody knew you were out here?"

Peme snapped her head over to Meredith. She did not know that. "What do they mean, Agent Calvin?" Her voice rumbled from deep within her furry chest.

Meredith glanced back at Peme and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I purged your transit plan after you had completed it, but before you sent it. The cargo required it."

"So that's why you were willing to risk all of us to repair the drive. You knew that nobody would know we're missing and we would have starved to death thinking rescue was about to come."

"Sorry Peme."

"Address me as Captain, Agent Calvin."

"Yes, Captain. However. The emergency has not passed. I am still in command."

Peme seethed. The worst part was, it was clear Agent Calvin knew something like this was going to happen and was prepared to speak to whoever this was. She turned to the being and snapped. "So what now?"

The being turned to Peme, surprised. "Oh, so you can speak? Finally someone from HIDA has gotten you so angry that you remember you are a sapient race with your own wants, needs, and desires? This human here-" they point at Meredith "-found a loophole in our license agreement and enabled unauthorized repairs to be made on a FlashWarp engine to enable the transport of their secret cargo. As for now? Now I will leave and you will continue your journey. But!" They flared bright and their voice became loud and booming. "If you violate the terms of the license agreement again, your FlashWarp licenses will be stricken, and you will no longer be authorized operators of FlashWarp technology. The Coalition will lose their FTL drive they cherish so much."

The being disappeared just as if they had Flashed away. In the silence after, Peme blinked. The Coalition was licensing FlashWarp technology from someone?

Meredith nodded and turned. "Come on Eva, let's let the Captain do her job." She looked over her shoulder at Peme. "I declare the emergency over, command is returned to you, Captain."

"Wait-" Peme swallowed her anger. Her curiosity overrode it, if only a tiny amount. "What did that being mean by losing our license? Who were they? We didn't invent FlashWarp technology?"

Meredith's face softened. "I know you have just seen... a lot. But, I am not at liberty to explain them. You honestly shouldn't have seen any of that. That reminds, me, do not mention any of this to the crew. But-" She handed Peme another card "-if you really want to learn more, look us up. We have been expanding and could use more people. It looks like HIDA isn't just for humans anymore."

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #jpitha #humans and aliens #writing #sci fi writing #humans are space australians #humans are space capybaras #FlashWarp

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marlynnofmany · 1 year

Text

Stabby the One and Only

“Oh no, there are more of you,” Zhee said drily.

I grinned. “Zhee, this is Captain Parker of the good ship Hold My Beer.”

“A pleasure,” said Captain Parker, smiling with bright teeth in a dark face. A twitch of his arm said he’d been about to go for a handshake, then fully noticed Zhee’s pincher arms. He bowed instead.

“Yes, good greetings,” Zhee said, bending his front legs briefly to lower his eye level in a similar bow. “Is your ship all humans, or do you have someone else to keep you in line? With a name like that, I have my guesses.”

“All human!” Captain Parker said. “We’re just stopping by for fuel on our way to Basal Station.” He waved back towards the sporty silver cruiser that was easily the classiest thing at this out-of-the-way spaceport.

“Oh hey, us too!” I told him. “Our ship is the little lemon-looking dealie over there.”

“Nice, nice,” he said once he’d spotted it. “Solar sails, always a classic. What species’ model is that? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“Uh, Strongarm?” I guessed with a look to Zhee. “Right? It’s the same as Kamm’s ship, and seemed like a family thing.”

Zhee tipped his head at what would be an extreme angle on a human. “Who can keep track?” he said. “It is fuel-efficient and spacious enough, and that is all that matters.”

“We’re doing courier work,” I told Captain Parker. “Delivering some art right now for a big to-do on Basal.”

“We’re headed to our own to-do,” he said with pride. “In the sports sector.”

“Oh cool, what sport?”

He was about to tell me when a lumpy golden monstrosity of a warship roared to the ground, barely clearing the other nearby ships. Repulsor engines blasted a gust of wind that threw spaceport grit into everyone’s eyes and nearly bowled over those standing too close. That included a handful of humans carrying supplies onto their own ship, every one of whom yelled about it.

The ship was silent for a moment, long enough for two of the humans to run over to their captain, and for many other bystanders to cast disapproving looks. That sort of landing seemed deliberately rude. Had they meant it that way?

Oh yeah, they had.

“HUMANS!” bellowed a voice from the ship’s speakers. “Hand over your mascot. You have one chance before we open fire from orbit.” Various gunports flashed weaponry.

Bystanders panicked and ran, some for ships and some for the nearby buildings. No security forces emerged, because this little port wasn’t up to dealing with that degree of threat. The golden ship had picked a smart place for a shakedown.

Paint raced out of a building to wave us toward our ship, worried and fidgety in a blur of orange scales. “Let’s go!” she urged.

I was about to object that we hadn’t gotten fuel yet when Captain Parker shouted back. “What mascot do you mean?”

“Don’t play games, human,” the loudspeaker replied. “Your stabbing droid. Bring it out now.”

“Oh, that mascot,” said Captain Parker with deceptive calm. “Just a minute.” He huddled with the pair who’d come to see him.

Paint tugged at my arm, but I dragged my feet, wanting to know their answer.

The huddle separated. “Okay, you can have him,” Captain Parker yelled. “But come out and get him yourself, you cowards.”

Zhee hissed behind me and Paint squeaked. Angry growls sounded over the loudspeaker, then a hatch opened to admit a half-dozen pissed off dinosaurs.

Not dinosaurs, I thought. Armorlites. Bipedal, toothy, and widely known for not playing well with others. Their entire culture seemed to revolve around strength and superiority. I couldn’t think of a time when I’d seen one NOT act like a bully.

They also called themselves The Mighty, but no one else did. “Armorlite” was the best they were going to get, a reference to the thin scales that did nothing to protect the muscles they were so proud of.

“Hand it over!” bellowed the tall one in front, aiming a gun across the spaceport at Captain Parker.

“Yeah yeah, just a second,” he replied, the very picture of calm and collected. He waved toward his own ship. Someone appeared at the hatch, carrying an inert cleaning droid with a knife strapped to it. “Let me just say goodbye to him.”

Paint stopped pulling abruptly. “Wait, is that the one all the stories are about?” she asked. “That is an icon! A treasure to your people! And they’re just going to give it away?”

“Hang on,” I whispered. “I think he’s got a plan.”

Captain Parker was making a show of it, saluting dramatically and declaring at length what an honor it had been to travel with such a legend. The woman holding the legend in question stood ramrod-straight, and turned to make the delivery with all solemnity. Other humans lined up in front of their ship to salute. A wordless but inspiring song was suddenly playing on the loudspeakers. It was an over-the-top production.

And the Armorlites were loving it. They swaggered forward to accept their prize, with the leader handing his gun to an underling so he could snatch the droid from the human, who retreated in silence.

“Take good care of him,” Captain Parker said in a strained voice. “Make sure you keep his battery charged.”

The Armorlite held his prize up and sneered at the human, launching into a description of everything he was going to do with the precious human mascot. None of it was good.

“…Peel off another section of its casing each day!” he raved. “All will fear The Mighty, who have claimed Stabby the Roomba for their own!”

They weren’t looking at the human ship, but I sure was. The saluting crew all stepped to the side as a whole fleet of cleaning droids trundled down the ramp, silent under cover of the music. Each one wore a knife in stabbing position: right at ankle height.

Armorlite ankle scales are especially weak.

The first Armorlite to get shanked made a squeal of surprise, flailing with his gun rather than shooting it. The others didn’t react quickly enough to avoid the same fate: they looked to their companion’s face for answers, only to be attacked from below. The leader avoided it the longest, dodging to the side and yelling at his crew to fight back, but the droids had circled around him, and it was only a matter of time.

Just as he bellowed in pain, a precision laser unfolded from the human ship and zapped each gun in turn.

The leader dropped the Roomba to crack loudly on the pavement.

He snarled down at it, at the menacing droids, at the humans, and at the laser aimed at his head. Then he pushed past his underlings to limp back to the ship, a fleet of droids in slow pursuit. The Armorlites all made it onboard and shut the door. In moments, the captain was shouting from the loudspeaker about his plans to rain destruction from above. The ship blasted skyward with another gust of hot air.

I opened my eyes once the dust cloud was past to see Captain Parker still standing there. “Aren’t you going to stop him?” I asked, worried.

“Already did,” he told me. “Jenkins snuck Stabby’s cousin Blasty onboard when they weren’t looking. Told him to find the engine room.”

A muffled explosion sounded from the upper atmosphere. I looked up to see the golden ship veering sideways, trailing smoke.

Captain Parker saluted. “Farewell, Blasty Number Thirty-Two. You went out like a champ.” He stepped forward to pick up the cracked droid while the Armorlite ship disappeared across the horizon, not managing to fire a single weapon.

Paint and Zhee moved closer. “Your poor mascot,” Paint said. “Can it be repaired?”

“What, this?” Captain Parker asked. “This doesn’t even have a battery. It’s just spare parts.”

“Oh!” Paint said, perking up.

Zhee cocked his head. “Do you have the real one, or were they wrong about that?”

Captain Parker waved a hand at the fleet of droids that were currently getting rounded up by his crew. “We have LOTS of real ones! We’re on our way to the droid jousting league championships.”

I laughed. “Did they hear some of that and think you had the Single One And Only Human Mascot Stabby?”

“Yup! Sure looks that way.”

Paint was amazed. “I didn’t know there were so many!”

Zhee angled his pinchers in exasperation. “Of course there’s not just one. That’s expecting too much sanity and good sense from humans in general.”

“To be fair,” I said, “I don’t think there was ever just one. Sure, the famous one may have had more adventures than most, but the jury’s out on how many of those adventures were even the same Stabby.”

Captain Parker nodded. “And what fun is good sense?”

“Exactly!” I said.

Zhee stuck his bug eyes up close to my face. “No, you can’t have one.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest it!” I said, grinning at the frowny-eyebrow slant of his antennae.

“Oh here, how about this?” Captain Parker dug something from his pocket and handed it to me. “The knife is rubber. We make ‘em for the kids; that’s our team logo.”

“I love it,” I told him, gazing at the palm-sized minidroid with the red chili pepper sticker.

“That had better not end up in my quarters,” Zhee declared while Paint got a good look at it. “I promise nothing in regards to stepping on it.”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “You have so many legs; how could you possibly keep track of them all?”

Zhee made a disparaging noise and clicked off toward the ship.

“Well, I should be going,” Captain Parker said as someone called for him. “See you at Basal Station, maybe!”

“Yeah, maybe!” I said. We waved our goodbyes as he rejoined his crew.

Paint was thinking hard as we turned to follow Zhee. “Do you think Captain Sunlight would be okay with a detour after we make our delivery?” she asked. “I want to see what that championship looks like.”

“It can’t hurt to ask!” I said, holding up my new minidroid. “Just don’t tell Zhee. At least not until she says yes.”

~~~

The ongoing adventures in backstory for this book. More to come!

#my writing #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #haso #hfy #Stabby the Roomba #Stabby the space Roomba #the Token Human

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cowgurrrl · 24 days

Text

I Wish I Was

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: yay for creative energy coming back!!

Summary: Murphy’s Law dictates… [3.1k]

Warnings: art talk, discussions of a deceased parent, probably incorrect blueprint talk, a cliff hanger 😈

Temperatures rarely dip below the thirties in Central Texas. It's not impossible, as evidenced by the below-freezing temperatures ravaging much of the South in the final days before returning to school, but it's still rare. Nobody really knows what to do when there's the threat of the roads icing over, so they just decide to shut most things down, including your bar. You feigned disappointment when your manager called to tell you when, in reality, you were digging through your box of acrylic paints to find the one shade that's been calling your name. With the sudden free time, you get to work on your half-finished canvases and listen to the same record repeatedly in the hopes that your brain will zone out enough for you to make something good.

It could be The Mamas and The Papas record spinning or the dark blue winter light shining through your blinds, but you actually like the piece of art unfolding on your canvas. It's undeniably different, a little more vibrant and a little more abstract, but it feels good— sustainable, at the very least. You feel less self-conscious about them and even snap pictures to show them off to Andie. You've finished three other canvases and sent in images of them to a local art collective that takes gallery submissions twice a year, and they've moved you on to the next part of the acceptance process. It's not a definite yes, but it's not an immediate no. You haven't told Joel about the submission or anything, really. You've just holed yourself up in your apartment to paint and sporadically respond to his texts with lots of apologies typed with yellow or purple fingertips.

He knows you're not ignoring him, and you know he's a busy guy. He has better things to do than sit around and wait for you to text him back, but you feel bad about not being as present as you were before. "It's all part of the process, I promise," you said. "Then, when I get my own gallery, you can hear all about it while you fix up my classroom." He reminded you that "pride goeth before the fall" but didn't doubt or pressure you to break your flow. The only thing he consistently texts you about is making sure you're drinking water, stretching your wrists, and, at least, looking at a vegetable during your long sessions. Otherwise, he leaves you alone to work. Everyone else, including the stack of looming emails in your inbox, gets deliberately ignored so you can live in your bubble for just a little longer before school drags you back into session.

That's why you jumped and furrowed your eyebrows at your ringing phone when his contact photo appeared unexpectedly, breaking you out of your concentration. You wipe your hands on your old pair of too-big jeans (universally known as your work pants because they're covered in different colored hand prints) and swipe to answer him before the silly picture of him with one of your scarves on his head can go away. You hear him shuffling around when you put it on speaker and almost hang up, thinking it's a butt dial before you finally hear his voice.

"Hello?" He greets.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Did I leave my jacket there?" He asks. You let out a relieved sigh that it's nothing too dramatic, but the lingering panic his phone call caused sits in the back of your head as you glance down at said jacket. You adjust the palette in your hand, suddenly hyper-aware of the wet paint and thanking whatever God is out there for not getting any on his clothes. You can't imagine things would go over well with the guys if he suddenly showed up to job sites with pink paint on the sleeve of his jacket.

"No..." you say, extending the vowel, and he chuckles.

"Do me a favor. See if there's a ring of keys in the front pocket?" He says. You gently put the palette on your coffee table and wipe your hands again to ensure there's no wet paint on them before digging into both front pockets and feeling the keys in his left pocket. You pull them out and find the set of keys with a baseball keychain and a keychain with a picture of him and the girls on it.

"I've got 'em," you say. "The Astros? Really?"

"D'you mind bringin' 'em to the office? I forgot I needed 'em." He ignores your jab, and you look down at your outfit. Clad in your work pants, a sports bra, Joel's Carhartt jacket, and your unwashed hair in a clip, you are not prepared to leave the house today, let alone go see Joel.

"Um..."

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, and you wince. What are you gonna say? Sorry, I know you have to do your job and all, but I look and feel like shit, so I can't bring your keys to you? He's already seen you in disarray from the school day, but that was a cuter, more socially acceptable version of disarray. This version gives credence to the messy, mentally ill artist stereotype Freud introduced however many years ago.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just..." you sigh and rub your face. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. I kinda look crazy."

"That's it?" He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Baby, I don't care how you look. You could show up in a potato sack, and I wouldn't care."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't own a potato sack, but I'm pretty sure that would look better than this."

"If it makes you feel better, the office is empty."

"Then, why are you in? It's fucking freezing."

"I needed to make sure the pipes didn't freeze over, and I left some blueprints here," he says. "I can grab 'em from you and just come back to the office."

"No, I don't want you driving more than you have to," you say, already stretching out your stiff legs. Your knees creak in protest, and fatigue seeps into your bones. God, how long have you been sitting here? "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"I think it'll take a lot more than some messy clothes to scare me off, darlin'," he says, and you roll your eyes at his charm. With a quick goodbye, you throw on a clean enough sweater and leggings. You debate running a brush through your hair before remembering what he said about the empty office and decide you don't have the energy. If he really doesn't care what you look like, then you're not going to stress about it.

You're a little worried about driving in the weather, even you aren't immune to Southern weather panic, but the roadways are mostly clear, and things aren't expected to get really bad until later on. Still, you drive slowly and white-knuckle the wheel against strong, frigid winds. By the time you get to Joel's office, the sky is more grey than blue, and radio announcers warn you that there might be flurries within the next forty-eight hours. You doubt they'll stick to the ground and amount to nothing more than some black ice, inconveniencing everyone in the state, but still. You leave the relative warmth of your car and walk as fast as you can into the building, clutching Joel's jacket close to your body and sending a wave of his smell over you.

The office itself is small, with a couple of desks here and there, mostly for meeting with clients and explaining building plans. A coffee pot and water cooler sit in the corner next to the receptionist's desk, which is currently empty. It's eerily quiet in the space except for the sound of the heat rumbling somewhere in the walls, and you almost wonder if Joel left without telling you when you hear grumbling and the tell-tale sound of his boots against the tile. He doesn't notice you at first. Instead, he scowls at a paper like it owes him money and mutters under his breath. Whatever is annoying him is wiped away the second he sees you there.

"Hey, baby," he lights up as he walks over to you and kisses you, abandoning the paper on one of the desks so he can hold you close. He tastes like coffee and the beeswax chapstick Ellie got him for Christmas. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, and you smile against his lips. "You got my keys?" He asks as he turns to walk into his office, grabbing your hand and bringing you with him. He lets go of you to close the door behind him, and you dig the keys out of your pocket and toss them at him. He catches them in mid-air easily and walks over to the filing cabinet.

"You intentionally leave your keys with me, or is this just a happy accident?" You ask, and he smirks.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you again."

"Sneaky," you say as you walk around his space while he searches for the correct blueprint.

It's a relatively normal office with eggshell walls and bad fluorescent lighting, but once you step behind his desk, you get a good idea of the man who works here. His desk is old and made of some type of wood he probably knows more about than you do. It's filled with little knick-knacks and things that get him through the day: family pictures, a painted gecko from Terlingua, stress balls, and a desk calendar with his all-caps handwriting. There are even some drawings done by Ellie pinned on the corkboard behind his chair, her skill visibly improving as she gets older.

One particular picture on his desk catches your eye. It's older than the rest, and it takes you a minute to recognize Joel's eyes in the greying man. Joel, Tommy, and their dad smile at the camera with identical grins. Tommy can't be older than ten while Joel towers over them both, his broad shoulders taking up lots of space. You pick it up to look at it closer and Joel doesn't stop you. Instead, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"'S this your dad?" you ask, and he nods. "You guys look a lot alike."

"You think?" He asks like he doesn't see it, and you look at him. You take a second or two to let your eyes trace his features and compare them to his dad's before nodding.

"Yeah. Same eyes," you say as you look back down. "And smile." He hums happily at that. Joel's face hasn't changed much now that he's a grown man. If anything, he looks more like his dad, with the grey at the temples and the beard framing his face. You see bits of their father in Tommy, too, but you assume he probably looks more like their mother. "How old were you in this?"

"Mm, fifteen? Maybe sixteen." Right before his dad died, you think. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing or reliving the day over again. Before the clutches of grief can sink you both, you smile to yourself and hold the picture a little closer.

"I would've been obsessed with you if we'd gone to high school together."

"Really?" He asks incredulously, and you giggle at the thought.

"Oh, for sure. Look at you!" You point to his little broody half-smile as if it's evidence. "Those eyes, that hair, the attitude. I mean, c'mon, Joel!" He laughs at your praise and takes the photo out of your hands.

"Alright, alright, that's enough objectification for teenage Joel."

"I'm not objectifying you! I'm just stating the obvious."

"Mhm," he hums, and you laugh. You continue walking around and looking at his things as he frowns at the blueprint he trekked through the cold to get. "Shit." He mumbles, reaches for a pencil, and scribbles something on the plans.

"What's wrong?" You ask, perching yourself on the edge of his desk and leaning over to look at the intricate design. It looks like a big house with lots of elaborate details written on the margins. It's a big build. No wonder he needed to get this copy.

"This client decided they wanted a bigger kitchen, but I don't know how to do that without eatin' into another room and changin' the whole plan," he sighs. "We're supposed to be back on the site once this storm blows over, and I gotta have an idea of how we're gonna do this by then."

"Can't you just tell them no?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Can’t you just tell your principal no?

"Point taken," you say. "What about pushing it into the backyard a little? Then you could use this area over here to make a sunroom or something," you suggest, gesturing to the weird leftover space that would make the house look wonky. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks.

"Then what should I do here?" He asks. Together, you go back and forth, discussing dimensions, perspectives, and measurements. You never realized how similar these designs are to art. They have to have more of a purpose and fit specific parameters, but other than that, they have the same idea: create something out of nothing. It's cool to see Joel in his own element, doing mental math and estimates that would take you ages to do and writing down his findings as you figure them out together. He's not just good at math, he's good at sketching the new designs.

Almost seamlessly, he flips through the floor plans and layouts, adding a window there or changing the flow of a room with a singular erasure. He adds the perfect depth to see the idea clearly without crowding the space and making it seem too busy, allowing the clients to picture their furniture in the home. When you bring up an idea, he's quick to rotate the plans upside down to imagine how it would look and if it would impact the building process, his brain running through every possible solution and flipping it without even thinking. Ellie does the same thing when she gets stuck on a drawing. You see where she gets her skill from, even if he'll never admit it.

For someone who has always struggled with math, you enjoy the balance between math, engineering, and art in the plans, but you like working with Joel the most. It's nice to feel like you're helping instead of distracting him. You're not sure how long you worked together, reconfiguring things this way and that, before you finally reached a viable solution, but you know that Joel has the biggest smile on his face when he looks away from the blueprints.

"You mighta missed a callin', my dear." He says, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"My college algebra professor might disagree, but I do think this is interesting."

"Well, if you ever want a job..." he trails off as he rolls the blueprints back up and secures it with a rubber band. You smirk and tug at his belt loops to bring him closer to where you're sitting on his desk.

"You just want me to get more tattoos." You accuse, and he chuckles as he tosses the prints somewhere behind you, his hands coming up to frame your face.

"I'm just sayin', Miller Contracting don't have a policy against it like the school district does."

"Mm, what about dating? That might get a little dicey."

"Is sleepin' with your boss better or worse than sleepin' with a student's parent?" He asks, and you laugh.

"They're probably in the same realm of bad."

"Then, we've got nothin' to lose." He says as he leans down to kiss you. You open your legs just enough for him to step in between your knees and get as close as he can. He's trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him, but the stubble still scratches deliciously against your skin, making you sigh. He breaks away enough to tip you back onto his desk, narrowly missing his clutter, and you giggle when he kisses your neck.

"How long have you been plannin' this one?" you ask, your years in Texas showing through in your breathless voice. He smiles as he meets your eyes.

"I dunno what you're talkin' bout."

"Oh, so getting me alone and on top of your desk was just a coincidence?"

"Happy accident." He muses, sliding his hands up your shirt as he gets lower and lower. Your hands play with his hair, occasionally tugging on the strands just to hear the sound he makes. You would've been happy to do that all day if your phone ringing through the suddenly too-warm air of his office didn't interrupt. Joel groans and drops his head to your sternum, his hands pausing their journey up your body as you wiggle your phone out of your back pocket. Your heart drops the second you recognize the phone number.

"Who is it?" Joel asks like he's reading your mind. You sit up slowly, and he takes his hands off you without malice or frustration. You're stuck staring at the number until it disappears off your screen and goes to voicemail.

"Um... someone from work. I should probably call them back." You say, unsure of yourself as the words fall from your mouth. Joel looks confused but doesn't push.

"Oh. Right, yeah. School starts back up on Monday, right?"

"Yeah, she probably just wants to talk about lesson plans or something," you say, standing from your spot on the desk. The air has changed between you, and suddenly, things feel clunky and awkward. This is the worst possible timing. "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll walk you out." He says sheepishly. You don't say anything as he opens the doors for you and gives you a quick kiss and a reminder to text him when you get home. You just nod and immediately speed walk to your car even though you're not that cold. Joel watches you pull out from your parking spot and leave the strip mall, waving before you can turn out of sight.

You wait until you're five minutes down the road before you dial the number back as if Joel would be able to hear the crackly voice through your speaker if you were any closer. Your heart beats fast in your chest, and your palms are sweaty on the wheel as the phone rings. When the dial tone finally ends, and your call is answered, the anxiety is replaced with frustration.

"What’s up?" You ask through gritted teeth, and you hear her take a breath.

"We need to talk about Ellie’s dad."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01 @acupofhollie

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noyasmashing · 14 days

Note

hi could u write sub kunimi?? i barely see fics about him and this thought lives in my brainrot forever 😭😭😭

YESSSS I LOVE HIM!!

Idk what happened with this one, I wrote it on a whim on the subway…

CW: Gn!Dom!reader, Kunimi being whiny, pegging/anal, cock can be interpreted as strap!

Kunimi emitted a humiliating whine as he lifted himself on your cock. A amused smile graced your lips as you grasped his narrow hips and pulled him down forcefully. The room echoed with the sound of skin meeting skin along with his moans.

It was evident that he was wanted for you to take control, to fuck away any thoughts of his. However, he found himself being forced to pleasure himself on your lap, as a punishment.

Helplessly, Kunimi whined, his half lidded eyes pleading as you teasingly thumbed his sensitive tip. You couldn't help but admire his vulnerable form, flushed cheeks and disheveled hair framing his open mouth, tongue darting to moisten his lips. "Please,"

Gently, you traced your fingers along his cheek, speaking softly to the man above you. "Hmm? Do you want me to fuck you properly?" Your voice held a seductive tone.

He nodded fervently, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment as his erection slapped against his firm abdomen with each movement, and his knees grew weary from supporting his weight.

"Yes! it’s e-embarrassing.." He whined as his hips met yours once more. You couldn't help but laugh at your boyfriend's discomfort, the sound of his complaint echoing in the room.

"Only good boys get rewards," you cooed, matching his rhythm. His body radiated warmth, and a blush seemed to envelop him entirely. He grew increasingly desperate, attempting to synchronize his movements with yours. He yearned for you to pin him down and ravage him, to take control and make sure he couldn't walk for the next few days at least.

"P-please, Y/n, I'm tired.. Just give me the pleasure I need," he practically demanded, his voice laced with urgency. This provoked a snarl from you, causing your hips to freeze in their current position.

“Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” You asked him sternly, your gaze piercing into his, causing his lip to quiver under your intense scrutiny. Without a word, you effortlessly subdued him onto the bed you both shared, fulfilling his demanding request.

He sank onto the mattress, his disheveled hair enhancing his charm. A plaintive whimper escaped him, echoing the emptiness he felt. A sadistic smile played at your lips as you realigned yourself with him.

He emitted a loud cry as your hips thrusted forcefully into his tight hole. His fingers clenched your forearms for comfort while you drove yourself into him with an intense and unrelenting rhythm.

"Is this what you wanted?" You gasped between breaths, as he struggled to steady himself. But he couldn't adapt to the rapid pace. Instead, he whimpered, "it's too much, too much for me... [name]." As if he hadn't spent the few minutes pleading for more.

You offered him that familiar, unsettling grin as you expertly thrust within him, each powerful movement deliberately striking his prostate and eliciting soft whimpers that gradually transformed into deep moans. Your movements became more fervent, intensifying the pleasure he so desperately yearned for, drawing him closer to the edge.

His back arched naturally, his eyes rolling back in sheer bliss. His body began twitching and jerking rapidly-A tell tale sign he was close.

"Nghh- cum.. oh,, ‘m gunna cum," he managed to utter, his voice laced with urgency. Undeterred, you persisted in your relentless pursuit of his pleasure, slightly adjusting your angle to focus on the most sensitive spots that drew forth the most enchanting moans from him.

You coo’d at his words, in acknowledgment of his words, his angry tip released its load, painting his body with white, sticky fluid. He exhaled heavily, still recuperating from the intense pleasure.

Yet, it was evident that you had no intention of relenting. With a playful smirk, you demanded, "Open up, baby. Let me see that pretty tongue."

#sub haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #dom reader #dom!reader #haikyu smut #sub!character #haikyu x you #sub character #haikyuu fanfiction #kunimi #kunimi akira #kunimi x reader #akira kunimi #dom!fem!reader

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another-blues-clues-day-hooray · 2 years

Text

Hey, you. Yes, you. I'd like to have a minute of your time to tell you about a Blue's Clues character that Nickelodeon wants you to forget about. Buckle up, this is long.

Her name is Green Puppy, and this is what she looks like:

Source

[Image ID: An image of Green Puppy from Blue’s Clues. She is at school, sitting on a rug and surrounded by knocked-down blocks.]

See, isn't she adorable? In the original Blue's Clues, she and Blue met on a bit of a bad note. Green Puppy knocked down Blue's block tower in the episode "Blue's Sad Day". But during that episode, she and Blue made up and became friends, so you'd think that she'd be treated like any of Blue's other friends, right?

Well, as it happens, when the reboot Blue's Clues & You came along, all of Blue's classmates returned eventually. Magenta, Orange Kitten, Purple Kangaroo, even Periwinkle...but wait, where's Green Puppy?

Source

[Image ID: A photo of the Little Golden Book “Blue’s Clues School Day”. It is opened to a page where Blue, Josh, Magenta, Purple Kangaroo, and Orange Kitten are standing outside of school. The page has a line that says “All our friends are here”. I have circled the word “all” and drawn a red arrow pointing to it for emphasis]

Alas, Green Puppy wasn't included in the reboot.

But what about the episode where Blue's block tower gets knocked down? Surely, when they remade that episode, Green Puppy had to reprise her role?

Nope. They replaced her with Magenta.

Then, what about the episode "Colors Everywhere", where Blue wanted to add Green Puppy to her painting of friends? Green Puppy was the answer to Blue's Clues in that episode. So when they remade that episode for the reboot, she had to have come back in some capacity, right?

Magenta. They replaced her with Magenta again.

[Image ID: Green Puppy and Blue are together. They are sitting in front of a painting. Blue is painting Green Puppy.]

Now, it might be easy to write Green Puppy off as "a little mean", given how she was introduced. But personally, I believe her existence as a character was very important. Almost everyone as a kid had a moment where they'd gotten a little overexcited about something, leading them to do something that accidentally hurt another kid's feelings. Green Puppy represents that.

Plus, she and Blue got along wonderfully after that episode. Like in the episode "Blocks", where Blue invites Green Puppy over just to knock towers of blocks over as a physics demonstration:

[Image ID: A gif of Green Puppy unevenly stacking blocks on a tower, deliberately causing it to topple. When it falls, she looks proud.]

Or how about Blue and Green Puppy playing on the swing at school together?

[Image ID: A gif of Blue using her long ears to push Green Puppy on a swingset.]

What about the holiday episode, where Blue gets her a self-knocking-over tower of blocks as a Christmas present?

Source

[Image ID: A screencap from the episode “Blue’s Big Holiday”. Blue is watching with excitement as Green Puppy opens her gift, which is a self-knocking-over tower of blocks. The blocks are now knocked over, and Green Puppy looks like it’s the best thing she’s ever seen in her life.]

Or when she celebrated fall with Blue and Periwinkle?

Source

[Image ID: Joe, Green Puppy, Blue, Periwinkle, Mr. Salt, and Mrs. Pepper are at an apple orchard. They are holding apples and wearing sweaters that match their signature colors.]

Or when she participated in the big parade with the rest of Blue's classmates?

Source

[Image ID: Blue, Green Puppy, and Magenta are having a makeshift parade using pots & pans, party hats, and a wagon. Orange Kitten, Mr. Salt, Mrs. Pepper, and Paprika are watching excitedly, cheering them on.]

Or Blue's Big Musical Movie, where Green Puppy gets to dance in the big show with everyone?

[Image ID: A gif of Blue’s Big Musical Movie. Several of Blue’s housemates and classmates are on stage together.]

In the iconic episode "Blue Takes You to School", plus the tie-in book AND the tie-in PC game, Green Puppy was featured just as much as Blue's other classmates:

[Image ID: Periwinkle, Orange Kitten, and Green Puppy are playing with boats in water together. Periwinkle, however, is holding a toy helicopter.]

If THAT’S not enough to convince you, Green Puppy even got TWO of her own books: “I’m Sorry” and “Green Puppy Goes to the Dentist”.

Source

[Image ID: An image from the Blue’s Clues book “I’m Sorry”, with the text edited out. A basket of strawberries, a hand drawn card, and a pile of flowers are sitting on the ground as Green Puppy and Magenta give each other a big hug.]

If that’s not enough evidence for you that she’s important, how about the fact she got her own figurine?

Source (I AM NOT AFFILIATED WITH SELLER)

[Image ID: A figurine of Green Puppy. She is holding a blue lunchbox and an apple.]

She even got her own plush!

Source (ALSO NOT AFFILIATED WITH SELLER)

[Image ID: A plush of Green Puppy. Her tongue is sticking out.]

So why was Green Puppy chucked out like trash when it came time for the reboot? Orange Kitten and Purple Kangaroo survived, and they're both considered "obscure" characters, just like her.

If I've gotten your interest now, and you want to know what you can do? Talk about her. Create fanart. Create memes. Together, we can make sure Green Puppy isn't forgotten.

#blue's clues #blue's clues & you #green puppy #yes I blazed this post what are you gonna do about it

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jokeringcutio · 1 month

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would you ever write for TDK joker? craving something reader/ledger joker - would you ever write for him? maybe she asks to see him without his makeup and she’s totally dazzled by him, tells him how beautiful he is, touches his scars gently (I mean, he is heath ledger with some scars without it, so it tracks😍😅) and he softens

Yes. (Short Drabble follows below:)

Rating: Mature? No Explicit Smut (yet). Just some loveliness. ~*~

You watched from the shadowed corner of the hide-out, the dim light flickering across the Joker's slouched silhouette as he shuffled in. Exhaustion hung on him like one of his tailored jackets, shoulders sagging, his chaotic day etched into every line of his body.

"Rough day?" Your voice cut through the stillness, a blade wrapped in velvet.

He grunted, a non-committal sound that vibrated against the peeling walls. He faced away from you, hands reaching up to smear away the clownish facade with a stained cloth, movements slow and deliberate. The smeared white gave way to tired skin beneath, the green paint-streaked water darkening the basin.

"Chaos reigns," he murmured, the words almost lost as he wiped the last vestige of makeup from around those sleep-deprived eyes, revealing the man beneath the monster.

You stepped closer, the space between you charged with an electric current. The air felt thicker as your gaze traced the contours of his face – yellow teeth, the sallow skin, the embodiment of neglect. No wonder he had never dared to show you his face before, how he kept himself hidden from both you and the rest of the world.

A shame, really. The rest of the world was missing out.

Seeing his unmasked visage, there was something painfully human about him that took your breath away.

"Joker..." It wasn't just a name; it was a revelation, whispered with a reverence that surprised even yourself. "You're beautiful."

The word clung to the damp air, a truth laid bare. You saw him, truly saw him beyond the chaos. Not just the demon that the world portrayed him as, but someone who touched upon the divine. There was beauty in his darkness, a captivating allure in the raw edges of his insanity.

And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, the agent of chaos stood still under your gaze, the world outside the decrepit walls of the hide-out fading into nothingness.

Your hand reached out, tentative as a whisper. Fingertips grazed the jagged landscape of his scars, grotesque and tender all at once. The touch was featherlight, tracing the history written in his flesh, the story of a smile carved by brutality.

He softened.

“Why hide this from me?” The words came out in a breathless whisper.

The wordless exhale of breath, a silent surrender. There, in the dim light, the Joker's eyes flickered with something unnamable. Not joy, not peace. A flicker of humanity amidst the turmoil.

"Liar,” he breathed, the sound a caress against the stillness.

"Beautiful," came the echo of your own voice from moments before, now reflected at you in his voice. His hand lifted, the gesture slow, purposeful. Cold fingertips danced across your cheek, a stark contrast to the warmth blooming within you.

Laughter bubbled up, nervous, shy. Your heart a staccato against ribs. You let him draw you nearer, his grip ghostly on your hand.

He was touching your face with such reverence, studying you with his darkening gaze. It made you feel like jelly under his touch. He had called you beautiful before, but this time, to hear it as an echo of your own words, felt wrong. You were no liar. You’d spoken the truth.

Joker was, without anything to hide behind, beautiful. The most beautiful man you ever saw.

His lips met your palm. Scar tissue, rough and uneven, pressed into your skin. A delicious shiver coiled down your spine, your core pulsing with desire.

"Beautiful," he murmured again, his gaze holding yours captive. And in that look, the world tilted, madness and sanity blurring into a heady mix.

"Joker..." Your voice faltered, drowned in the intensity of his eyes.

"Shh," he silenced you, the sound soft as the brush of moth wings. "Just feel."

And you did. You felt everything.

You trembled, the room's chill a stark contrast to the fever in your veins. "Make love to me," you whispered, the words a loaded gun.

He didn't speak, actions speaking volumes as he moved with a predator's grace. Clothes discarded, whispers of fabric falling to the floor. A hush before the storm.

Your bodies collided, a crash of thunder in the silence. His hands, commanding, insistent, mapped every inch of you, claiming territory. You arched into him, a willing conquest, the world reduced to the space where skin met skin.

Passion flared, raw, and unbridled. Each movement was a sentence in the story you wrote together, punctuated by gasps and moans. The Joker – no longer a specter of chaos but a man ablaze with desire - moved with a singular purpose.

You clawed at the sheets, each breath a plea, each touch a promise. He complied, a give and take that danced on the knife-edge of madness and euphoria.

And then, stillness.

Afterward, you lay entwined, a tangle of limbs and labored breaths. The silence was delicate, a gossamer thread weaving through the aftermath.

"Did you ever imagine..." your voice drifted, a feather on the wind.

"Imagine?" he echoed, his chest rumbling with a low chuckle.

"Us. Like this." Your fingers traced idle patterns on his chest, daring to explore the man beneath the monster.

"Never," he admitted, the word almost lost between you. "Chaos doesn't plan."

"Yet here we are," you mused, the irony not lost on you.

"Here we are," he agreed, his eyes searching yours for a truth you hadn't spoken.

"Will you show me your face more often?" you asked tentatively, seeking his eyes.

"Why would you want that?" The question hung in the air, a thin veneer over deeper inquiries.

"Like I said," you whispered. “Beautiful.”

A grin curled his lips, the scars uncurling like the petals of a flower. Gorgeous, your mind provided.

“If your reaction will always be as intense as this, I just might.”

"Good." A simple affirmation, yet it carried the weight of worlds colliding.

"Good," he repeated, tucking you closer to him.

The kiss he placed on top of your head felt like heaven. ~ AN: I haven't been well enough, but once I am, I definitely want to write more for this man. I love his little insane ticks, the licking of his lips, all his mannerisms. Definitely would love to write more about him. But to everyone who didn't get the memo, I am ill (it isn't a flu or a broken leg or something that will go away on its own, it won't go away in a few days, it needs treatment and possibly surgery and time, so keep your fingers crossed that everything will end well so I can write more for all of you lovelies out there.) ♡

#heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker x reader #softness #drabble

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