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ivyglow · 3 years

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Mine | Anthony Beauvillier

A/n: this idea came after we had a very sexy- I mean- Angry* Anthony pushing Sidney Crosby. Barbie and some anons send the good energy and so althought it took me forever here it is *cheers*. A huge thank you for @barbienoturbby for sending me some specific ideas (sharpies, choking etc hehehe), putting up w my random messages in the middle of the night or being a insecure bitch, ILY BARBIE! Huge shout out to @sebs-aston for proofreading this so fast *you’re amazing, liv!*. PS. More than ever I’m gonna need your feedback because I’m an insecure bitch and this is my first time writing smut (freddie was thigh riding, I don’t consider it too much). So please just lmk if you like it or hate it <3

Word count: 4k

Warnings: smut, mention of chocke, spitting, oral -female receiving- and all those dirty stuff.

Summary: after getting angry on the ice, you decide to make Anthony angry in bed too.

You knew Tito was a dom in bed as soon as you met him: he helped you to sit and to get up on your first date, and he led you to your car with his hand on your lower back. One month into getting to know each other, you were planning a gathering with his friends and he was the one to assign everyone with a task. Some days he would use fewer words and stick with hand gestures or eye contact to tell you what he wanted or what he was silently saying.

So when you two had sex for the first time and he was on top, you were not surprised, you also weren’t surprised when he asked how would you feel about hair pulling, choking, and tying. And, well, you’d never tried any of this, so you were honest with him, knowing that honesty was the key to make things work. He promised to go slow, and he watched you intently while he did everything just to make sure you were comfortable. You can still remember how it felt when he first stretched you, how your heel went to his back to accommodate his waist better, how this movement gave him the perfect angle to go all the way until the end.

You also remember the hickeys he left on your skin, mostly on places where your clothes could hide, but some you knew he purposely made for people to see. And people saw, indeed and also heard. He got a noise complaint twice because his old bed would scratch and bang on the wall, and that wouldn’t be a huge problem if it was anyone else, but it was Anthony, a hockey player, at that point -your boyfriend-, and he had the stamina to go for hours. A chug of water, maybe a fruit snack, and less than twenty minutes later he was ready to go again - or he would use these twenty minutes to get you off with his mouth and fingers. So the noise complaint was very much expected.

Now six months into the relationship, this wasn’t a problem anymore. Tito bought a new bed, and even talked with a friend about the possibility of getting soundproof walls. That’s why you were drinking your water and eating one of his energy bars while watching the game. The dynamic after games was usually very sexual, it didn’t matter if he was on the road or at home, you would find a way to get off, either phone sex or spicy pics. He never left you to your own hands.

The Isles were playing against the Penguins and you knew he was pissed off because of their losing streak against that team. That made him angry with some specifics players too. When he got home last night, you just cuddled together and went to sleep, he was tired and fuming because of their loss, and he probably heard a handful by his coach. Because of those losses, you knew he was going to skate his way around the ice tonight more than ever, and, especially, that he was angry.

You were laying on his couch when the game started, the Isles skating around the ice in a way you would have bet was a premonition for another loss, but ten minutes in things started to go differently, and that was the exact moment when you sat and gripped Beau’s shirt before an amazing shot hit the Pens’ net. They kept the rhythm on for the next two periods, although they were pretty much stressful- a handful of times you caught yourself holding your breath or cursing. The last two were also a stage for your boyfriend’s anger. He was pissed in a way you’d never seen before on the ice, and when Sidney Crosby pushed Pulock, Tito had had enough and shoved the opposition’s player on the ice. Torn between finding it hot or funny, you chose the latter letting out a loud laugh. Yet, when another exchange of pushes happened between the Pens’ superstar and Beau you sure felt the heat taking up space inside your body and you shifted on the couch. There was another goal and the game kept on providing stress and anxiety for the fans, but you were stuck on the scene your boyfriend had just put up.

He was usually like this in bed, but not that much on the ice, and seeing that happening outside the four walls left you with a lingering warmth inside your body, and not the cute warmth you usually felt when he cooked for you or told you how much he loved you. But the warmth you got whenever he bent you on the kitchen counter or held your hand tight while going down on you.

It was past midnight when you heard the door open and close, the soft click making your heart beat faster. He was home. You heard the thud of his bag on the floor and his steps bringing his scent closer to the living room where you were sitting on the couch wearing only his jersey and his favorite lace.

“Hey you, winner,” your voice echoed in the dimly lit apartment and you could see his lips curling in a small smile.

“Hey, babe,” his lips found yours on a quick peck and you looked up for more contact, but Anthony was already walking to the kitchen.

“Are you ok?” you asked, barefoot padding the floor until you reached the stool.

Your boyfriend was already busy cutting some bananas in a bowl, “Yeah, just a little stressed with the game and hungry,” he answered.

“But you won,” you stated in confusion.

His eyes scanned you for a second before going back to his task. The silence was everything you needed to know: he really was not in the mood for long talks after the episode, but you were a woman on a mission and you knew exactly what to do to get Anthony riddled up.

“You guys had a great game…” you began, cautious with your words and actions, hands reaching for a banana on the fruit bowl. “How was playing against Sidney Crosby?”

You saw how his eyebrows raised slightly before pouring honey on his bowl and whipping his fingers with his tongue. You knew the action wasn’t supposed to be filthy, yet you’ve been dating him long enough to know that he knew every action of his could be seen as sexual at some point.

“It was normal, he’s a normal hockey player like any of us,” his tone is nonchalant.

You suppress a grin, “he’s not like any of you, he’s Sidney Crosby. Just last night he reached his thousandth game,” Tito’s now chewing on his fruit and you can see how the motion seems tighter after your words, still you keep going, “he’s like a superstar! I would love to meet him any of these days…” you trail off busying yourself on biting the banana you just peeled off. His eyes trained on how your lips wrap around the piece of fruit, your tongue purposely darting out. Your boyfriend chooses silence again and you huff rolling your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he queries, eyes on his bowl, jaw still clenched tight while biting another piece of his fruit. You dart your eyes in another direction while biting your banana again, this time without so much care on giving him a hard time. “I asked you a question, y/n,” his tone was sharp and his voice low. You shake your head.

He grabs his water bottle before chugging half of the content, “Cat got your tongue? I swear I just saw you poking it out while eating that banana to provoke me,” he tauntingly gives you a defiant look.

Anthony motions for you to come to him and you follow his orders willingly, eager to finally have your way with him. You’re within arm’s reach when he tugs you closer, making you stumble in the middle of his big thighs. In a blink of an eye, you feel the sting on your butt cheeks, his big hands finding it again one more time before grabbing your chin. “You can’t even wait for your man to eat,” it’s a low grunt and he seems more annoyed with your playful smile, and you see the perfect opportunity to tease him a little bit more, “You could eat something else, there’s nothing stopping you…”

With that Anthony seems to lose his judgment before swinging your body on top of the counter, “you’re being such a brat tonight” his hands grab your butt squeezing it hard, “that’s not how you get the things you want”

“No? Then why are you about to fuck me?” you mock him knowing damn right that this would only make him go harder on you.

“Crisse,” (holy shit) his French accent makes your pussy throb. You loved when he talked in French to you.

His big hand pushes you back in a swift motion, the same hand spreads your legs for him, and it’s only a second before you’re fully laying on the counter. Still wearing only a lace thong and his jersey, you know the former is about to be ripped out of you. Anthony drags his fingers from the bottom of your belly to your breasts before gifting you a devilish smirk as soon as he notices you’re not wearing a bra.

“You think Sidney Crosby is the superstar, but you know damn well I’m gonna be the reason why you’re seeing stars tonight,” he whispers before sitting on the stool and kissing up to your thighs. His lips are sticky from the honey and because they’re cold it sends chills running through your warm body. You stretch your arms to reach his hair and he hums grabbing your wrists harshly, “no hair pulling for you tonight,” his murmurs hit your skin and you let out a small whine.

In order to play with your sensations, you see him taking a long gulp of his cold water. You know it will make his mouth colder and slicker, and you know he’s only doing it because he’s planning to spend a long time between your legs.

And that he does.

You sigh when his lips finally reach your pussy, the shock it causes is good and you can’t help but close your thighs in an attempt to bring him where you are really yearning for his lips. Nevertheless, that’s not what he has planned for you, and he drags his mouth between your pussy lips long before finally wrapping his lips on your clit and humming in pleasure.

“Oh fuck,” you let out a whine when his fingers reach for your nipple and twist it hard. His wet tongue flickered on your clit and he dived in deeper, making you feel all of him, from his stubble that was starting to grow to his full lips, you could feel it all.

“Anthony,” you try to form a sentence in the exact moment he pushs one finger inside of you, but your voice comes out as a prayer. A plea for more.

You were a sinner for him.

“You taste so good,” it’s a pleasure mumble and it comes just before his palm strikes your butt cheeks in a firm slap. “I could spend days here, bébé”

“Anthony,” you try again and this time he laughs with his lips still wrapped around your clit. The vibrations send shivers through your whole body, your toes curl and you try to reach for his hair again before his hand holds both of your wrists.

You’re close and he knows it because he adds another finger and curls it. It’s a ‘come here’ motion and from another dimension, you were almost able to hear him whisper the same words in French.

“Give it to me,” he demands, and you do as said just as another finger hits your right spot. For some seconds the kitchen’s ceiling turns black with dots and your vision goes blurry. Toes curling, the pitch on your belly button finally making its way out just like the curses and moans that leave your mouth. Most of them being his name and how good he makes you feel.

You’re not even done with your high when his big hands grab your ankles bringing your body to the edge of the counter and making you sit. “Open your mouth,” he demands.

You moan, eyes rolling back from pleasure, “put your tongue out for me, má chérie,” his hands, now holding your jaw, tighten around you. There’s a whimper of bliss and you part your lips wide bringing your tongue out just like demanded before he spits on your mouth.

“See how good you taste?!” Anthony hums and you swallow it before poking your tongue out again and licking from his glistering chin to his lips. The action fuels a passionate kiss and it’s seconds before your weak legs wrap themselves around his waist bringing him closer. Your core finds the bulge on his pants and you whimper feeling aroused again.

Your boyfriend is fast to grasp the underside of your thighs bringing your body close to his before making his way towards the bedroom. You take your time licking and kissing his neck and jaw until your body hits the mattress and he’s unbuckling his belt.

“Take it off” he commands, unbuttoning his dress shirt. You’re fast to obey taking off the jersey you’re wearing, now you’re fully naked in front of him.

“Hands,” you put both of your wrists together and he fastens his belt around it tight.

From the way his eyebrows were slightly up to his lips parted, you knew he was about to give you another orgasm, you knew that he wasn’t done and he wouldn’t be any time soon.

“Do we have a safe word tonight, bébé?” his full lips find your jaw and neck and he nibbles on your ear before sucking harshly on your neck again.

His purpose is to mark you, not only where people can see, but also where they can’t. Just like your waist is being held with such fierceness, you know it’ll leave prints there. You hum a yes dropping your head to the side so he can have more access to your skin, “use your words, you know I need to hear you say it,” he whispers now bringing his mouth to your nipples and biting it lightly. You whimper, “our safe word is blue.”

“Perfect,” you can feel his smile on your skin and when you reach for his hair with your hands tied, he pushes them up. His strong arm swings on top of your belly and he takes his time on your breasts before making his way lower. There’s a pitch bubbling on your belly again just with the idea of it and he gives you mischievous grim kissing and licking your thighs.

“Beau,” you whine already feeling your legs weakening again.

“I told you I was hungry, you were the one who suggested the meal,” the funny remark is accompanied by a flicker of his tongue on your cunt. “Now I’ll only stop when I’m satisfied.”

You curse closing your hands and trying to bring your waist up. He shakes his head, “huh huh, that’s a bad girl attitude,” he spits on your pussy and you moan loud, “and you know exactly what we do to bad girls in this house, don’t you?”

You nod and he chuckles.

“Words.”

“I know, sir.”

“Now, there’s my good girl,” he praises finding your clit and holding it carefully between his teeth, “now give it to me just like you suggested,” he murmurs before diving on your pussy, his tongue gentle and slow, in contrast with his solid arm pinning you to the bed and his rough behavior.

It would be a long ride and you would feel every step taken, because each one would bring you closer to the inevitable. You felt urgency though; you wanted him to fuck your brains out already. But Anthony took his time, and you knew he was being good because he let you cum in the kitchen even after you provoked him. When his point finger entered you, your eyes couldn’t focus and you knew you were closer, yet instead of giving you a release, your boyfriend took his kisses to your thighs grinning at you one more time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he speaks under his breath, eyes trained on your pussy. Yet you don’t feel ashamed, because it’s Anthony, and he knows you like the back of his hands, he knows what to do to make you comfortable and he knows how to make you feel good. He would praise and love your body rightly, so you let him. You spread your legs wider and gave him a lopsided smile.

“Please,” you plead again that night; however, he follows your request this time.

Anthony dives in again, licking and spitting, flickering his tongue and using his fingers. Giving you what he got and what he knows you like. Your body is fast to answer, your waist trying to go higher to find his mouth, your toes curling, your head shooting back and your eyes rolling.

He got you there. Fast.

And he made sure to ride you out of you high, this tongue not the least careful with your sensitive bud, while cleaning you up he kept licking it lightly. Full lips brushing it with dedication.

“Now I want you on all fours,” there’s a dirty smile on his glistering lips and you hold back another moan with the image of Anthony sitting between your legs, face glowing with your cum, “allos y,” (c’mon). You turn your body, holding your hands before supporting your head on the pillows, ass up for him.

There’s the noise of a slap and the sting on your butt cheeks, right before a soft kiss is placed on top of the surely red mark. His hands roam around your body and you shiver when he grabs your hair. “Crisse, tu as l'air si chaud,” (holy shit, you look so hot) Anthony slaps you booty again and finally slips his finger at your entrance feeling your wetness pool around. You’re already ready for him again and he seems pleased with the realization. So pleased it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside of you hitting just the right spot. Your body shots upward and he holds you by your waist keeping your butt bent.

“Anthony,” you moan loudly when he starts moving ruthlessly inside of you. There’s something hot about how his body is being aggressive and you are taking it all, how his hips are almost knocking your body down, “right - fucking - there,” you whine and he keeps going, this time grabbing your hair and making your body lean towards him.

“Whose name are you screaming tonight, bébé?” he mumbles bending his own body on top of yours without completely letting go of the position.

“Yours,” your answer between groans.

“Let me hear you”

And you do.

You say his name out loud and clear, and you’re almost sure the neighbors are going to hear it. Yet you do it again and again while the sound of your voice is mixed with the noise of his skin hitting your skin and his feral grunts. He’s big and hard inside you and every time he goes out to get inside again you can feel your pussy stretching out to accommodate him.

“Beau,” you moan and he chuckles leaning his body down to kiss your back. You see from the corner of your eyes when he finds the black marker on the top of your drawer, you can almost see his head working on ideas, and then he’s grabbing the sharpie you were using to write on your sticky notes earlier today.

His body is straight up again and his movements are now slower, as he unclasps the marker and you feel its cold material hit your skin. There’s a long up and then down movement, you’re almost sure it’s an M, and then there’s a harsh line of an I, you can hear his grunts louder and he stops himself for a second before shooting his body towards yours again. The sharpie finds your skin again, this time to draw an N, you knew he was doing it big, not only for his eyes, but for you to feel and to know exactly what it was as he wrote the last letter, an E.

You roll your eyes when he closes and throws the sharpie somewhere in the room before leaving another one of his blows on your butt cheeks. Anthony swings his arm around your torso bringing you up to him, your back hitting his solid chest, “you’re mine,” and that’s what it takes for you to come undone on his still hard cock. Your whole body trembles and your vision goes blurry again, there are tears in your eyes, and this time your moans turn into screams of satisfaction.

He keeps fucking you through your high and you curse dropping your head back on his shoulder. His hand sneaks in front of your body to touch your sensitive clit, and you hold it sinking your nails on his skin. “Oh fuck,” he grunts drawing his finger deeper. You’re not sure if your body can’t take so much pleasure.

“Let me ride you,” it’s a prayer, a plea, a cry, and you can feel his lips on your neck before your bodies are turned and you’re on top taking him deeper, touching new spots.

“That’s it, bébé,” he praises you and you roll your hips using your last energies. His hands find their way to your thighs and his short nails dig on your skin bringing you impossibly closer. There’s a deep grunt from him and a small whine from you. It’s hard for your eyes to focus, and you use your body to pin his down and your tied hands find his neck before squeezing it. His hips shot up under you and you scream, tightening your grip on him and squeezing his dick inside of you.

You can feel another knot on the pitch of your belly, but this time it feels different to recognize this new sensation. That’s when you notice the wetness under you dripping onto his cock to his belly button and in the bed.

“Fuck,” he moans, “Oh shit, you’re squirting,” his big hands go to your back and he keeps shooting his hips up to meet your pussy, “that’s it, bébé, give it to me once more,” and you’re squeezing him one last time before giving both of you a mind-blowing orgasm. Your body tumbles on top of his and this time things go pitch black instead of blurry. You can still feel his hot body under you and his rapid heartbeat, but your body is fluttering and there’s nothing in front of you. There’s only his body. There’s only your boyfriend existing under you with his cock still deep inside of you.

It’s seconds before his caresses on your back become some kind of poking, “y/n?”

“Huh?” you mumble, your voice raspy. He chuckles.

“Fuck, you passed out,” he sounds proud and you giggle.

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had,” you confess without finding the strength to move your hands and caress him back, but Anthony keeps the tip of his fingers moving softly around your body, “I think I should talk more about Sidney Crosby, huh?” you joke and his hips shot upward making you moan Anthony’s name. Although he just came, he’s still hard and deep inside your soaked pussy.

“What were you saying?” he questions with a smug grin. “I think you were saying something about a certain player, Sidney Crosby maybe?”

You arch your eyebrows, “who’s Sidney Crosby? I only know Anthony Beauvillier,” and he laughs at your answer before kissing your lips softly. You know there’s gonna be a time for water and a fruit snack later and then he’s going again, because he’s never done until you’re completely wrecked, the only name able to escape your lips being his.

Taglist: @smit41 @mybrokenshitthoughts @linasobsessions @hoiyheadharpies @barbienoturbby @barzysandmarnersbitch @elitebarzal @fallinallincurls @starswin @sortagaysortahigh If you wanna be added to my taglist you can send my your user in here

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh S4 Ep7: Mai Gets a Day Job (Killing People For Sport)

So, I looked at the calendar and realized, if I don’t get this post up this week then you’ll only have one update from me for the whole of November since I’m leaving for over a week again. :/ So I’m just gonna get right to the good stuff because it has taken just a crazy amount of time to get to episode 7. How great would it be if I also got to episode 8. Real great, right?

So lets do this, I can do this, I can write a recap without getting insanely distracted, watch me do it: This episode starts with Tristan sticking to the fatal flaw of his character sheet and seeing listed at the very top “low key toilet obsession.”

Ah Tristan.

And when you think “well, OK, they’re stuck by some historic Mesas, this is fine,” suddenly they are beset by the world’s most random biker gang of like 20 full grown adults/biker assassins.

And it’s not super clear if their driver died out there in the Arizona desert, or if he just put on a different outfit and joined this gang, but it won’t matter because like...it’s a filler arc in Yugioh so there’s gonna be some deaths.

This season seems to change genre like every 10 minutes, and so for right now we are in a Mad Max post-apocalyptic territory and PS every one of these bikers uses a lead pipe?

I feel like this is way more violent than a gun???

(read more under the cut)

And so, out the horizon comes another biker, like a masked cowboy on horseback, except she shoots these things instead of bullets.

These are trained assassins, by the way, just completely incapacitated by paper.

I just love the marketing team working alongside of this show that’s like “and what else can Yugioh cards do? destroy biker gangs. That’s right, one single card will absolutely destroy a biker!” and the writing staff was like “yeah, we can work that in. That totally works in universe, you don't even know.”

It’s Mai! Back from murdering the hell out of Pegasus, I guess she decided to ninja these 20 bikers, and did it so devastatingly, that they somehow blew up a motorcycle next to a live fuel tank? Like we’re talking Oliver Queen precision throwing here and like...

...Mai’s only been gone like a year right???

And so, seeing that this card is a harpy, which I dunno...doesn’t seem like it’s all that rare in comparison to a Blue Eyes or a God Card or I dunno any of the other signature cards we’ve heard about, Joey immediately recognizes Mai. Despite the fact that everything she is doing right now is completely out of character, and despite the fact that they are in freakin California.

RIP to all 20 of the people in that gang of bikers, because no one followed this limo away from the scene--everyone was, I assume, hella dead.

Youknow, I never expected Mai to kill more people than Bakura. I would have predicted Joey before Mai. I would have predicted Rebecca before Mai. Literally anyone else on this show before Mai.

Seto, crawling out of this oversized castle that I guess...is back on the real estate market now...decides that the irresistible pull of dragons printed on paper cards is stronger than listening to his brother’s needs to put down the damn cards and make a contractually obligated theme park.

I mean Mokuba kept him off the cards for nearly a whole year. What a healthy year that was for Seto.

Back in Arizona, apparently they didn’t make it more than a mile before Tristan busted the car. Not really clear why or how this happened, but they’ve decided to argue with eachother about it despite the fact one of them is clearly magical and does not really need to eat or drink or even maybe sleep?

Like we’ve seen Bakura basically survive off of one plate of tacos and 2 pints of blood, so just make Pharaoh push the car all the way back to California. Or just make Pharaoh use his millennium AIM to call up His tomb keepers and be like “Marik, we need a lift.” or maybe summon a very real monster because that’s a thing now?

Course this would rely on Pharaoh remembering that he has superpowers, which, somehow after 4 seasons, he always forgets how to use the moment he uses them. It’s like reverse Sailor Moon--Usagi tends to level up her Super powers, Pharaoh kind of tosses them out of the window and goes “oops” and becomes more and more mortal every single season.

So instead of magic they will just use Tea.

Amazing how none of them are really willing to date Tea seriously but they will acknowledge, out of the four of them, Tea is the best looking. So their strategy, bear with me, wasn’t to use the fact they’re children to get help from adults driving by, instead, the boys hid behind a rock so they could really make sure they were getting a hella pervy truck driver that would only stop for a single teenage girl stuck in the desert.

Only this group of kids would be like “Hey lets make sure the guy who picks us up is statistically most likely to be a serial killer” and then, weirdly enough, this horndog pedo truck driver ended up being the only person who didn’t try to kill them this entire episode.

So, lets go back to SF but coming from the north side...which makes no sense...but then again, they put Mesas in Napa County.

So last episode I assumed Rex and Weevil were dropped off in Oakland, but Rex informs us this episode that they are in “the worst part of town”

Where they get robbed twice, only to be saved by Duke Devlin, who I guess just lives here now because maybe it’s the only place he can afford in this expensive as hell city? Maybe he isn’t bothered by the crime-rate after that week he spent on Kaiba’s blimp/Seaquest mmo adventure?

Anyway, for some reason Duke--who is a game shop owner/developer by day--is wandering around the Tenderloin as a vigilante and saving people by throwing dice at them as some sort of side hustle and this is never discussed at all.

I would watch that spinoff series. Religiously.

Fun fact, there is definitely sketchy and bad parts of the Tenderloin you will know not to go to (you can smell it actually), but like a third of it is part of the best shopping district in the city and we used to just shop there unsupervised when I was a kid. It has an Anthropologie.

Not saying the parts that are bad aren’t bad. Whenever I drive through the non-shopping parts, I see at least one super sketch thing making me thankful I’m in the car. But I just don't know how Rex and Weevil managed to get robbed twice in one day. Just go five blocks in literally any direction.

Bro and I were like...HOW did this shot happened from this angle on the freeway...and then I only just now realized it. Something I forgot about because it’s from my parent’s generation...maybe the animators weren’t aware that the Embarcadero fell down after Loma Prieta?

So this was the SF landscape before the quake of 89′ (Which I have no memory of since I was a baby when this happened)

and after 89.

Like maybe the animators they had on this team remembered an SF from their youth that had a huge iconic raised street wrapping all the way around one part of it and just...never got the memo that an Earthquake made the entire thing fall down?

Either way, Duke is either driving these two directly out of SF, or he is driving them into 1988 and is taking a lovely drive on the Old Embarcadero, an experience which does not exist anymore, and which makes a lot more sense since Duke has to be somewhat near downtown, going by the skyscrapers and the vicinity to the Tenderloin.

Man. In the Yugioh Universe, Loma Preita just never actually happened. How is that factoid alone not the weirdest part of this episode?

(I am so glad Serenity is not here now that Duke’s back)

Welcome back to the show Duke, glad you’re bringing...Rex and Weevil...

To be fair, Duke has absolutely no idea who is and isn’t Yugi’s friends. Duke just kind of shows up and pretends like he’s part of the gang, and the gang has lost so much brain matter from all the cards and all the dark magic, they just assume he’s been here the whole time.

So at first I was like “this has to be a pun on Industrial Light and Magic” since there’s virtually no other film studios in the city--but ILM moved to SF 3-4 years after this season came out. So it’s just a weird coincidence, I guess. Or maybe it’s just a really uninspired name?

And so Mai, who I guess has been just waiting on this ledge for 8 hours decides to drop in.

Mai has evolved a lot since S1.

But, although Mai is just...straight up evil now, at least we get to see it taken out on Pegasus who, as far as this show is concerned, is a pretty evil bastard.

A pretty evil bastard who took like 3-4 episodes to beat in S1 but Mai could just do it off-screen.

It’s just funny that the entire time on the island Pegasus was probably pretty sure everyone there was trying to kill him EXCEPT for Mai and then the moment his back is turned he’s like “oh whaaaat?”

Like Bandit Keith is already in America. But rather than use Bandit Keith for this, lets use Mai to give Joey something to angst about. We can’t put her in a coma again--so lets instead get her vaguely possessed. Although seriously, if someone I liked did this to me I think I’d be over that crush really fast.

And then, speaking of Bandit Keith, we get to have a Greek Chorus this duel from the minibosses. Valon and the other guy with the handlebar-muttonchops.

I looked up “where does Valon’s accent come from” and literally there is no consensus, as far as I know.

And that’s where this episode ends.

Now I’m gonna go out of town for a week and then will need another week to make more of these so I’ll be on another hiatus. Holding out if I’ll maybe bring a laptop or something to where I’m going so I can type out recaps when I’m bored.

The problem is having the uhhhhh photoshop to do the caps. I can’t bear to do this in MS Paint because hell will freeze over before I lose all of my actions and hotkeys I made specifically to reduce the time it takes to make these. But we shall see.

anyway, if you want to see these from the beginning, click here.

#ygo #yugioh #recap #photo recap #episode recap #yugi muto #joey wheeler #mai valentine #tea gardner #bikers #an exploding shell station #arizona #tristan taylor #valon #S4 ep7

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sweetvengeancee · 7 years

Text

The only one (Ivar the Boneless x Reader)

Warnings : It’s kinda sad at the end; I didn’t mean for it to go this way but well... Also my English is bad heh. Word count: 3708.

I don’t know who I should tag, so I’m just going to tag those who always like/comment oon my stuff (let me know if you want to be removed/added).

@rachiieee , @sconniebelle , @dangerousvikings , @nothingbuthappydays , @lordavanti , @dani-si , @bitchccraft , @kirah34 , @ivartrash , @ivars-heathen , @thinemineours , @taintedlittlesweetpea

A/N: This was requested by a lovely anon, here’s the full request:

“Hihi would it be possible if you could write a fic about being in a secret relationship with ivar but he has to marry someone else and because of this you have to break up but he still loves you and tries to get you back and you get hurt in battle and it all comes out you had a relationship and he does anything to make you feel better??? Ps this is 100% my favourite blog, you have the most amazing writing 💗💗💗 “

I changed it a bit… Like, they’re already not together at the beginning. I hope you do not mind!

I’m sorry this is shit, I’m not fully satisfied with it…

Part Two.

You can read my Alex imagines here and here. And my first Ivar imagine here.

Wrapping the thick brown fur tighter around your trembling body you let out a shaky breath, your eyes focused on the far horizon; on the deep sea that separated you from home. It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen your family, your friends. Were they alright? Were they safe and healthy? Those thoughts kept you awake at night, praying to the Gods being the only thing that kept you sane. But it was all for a good cause, or so you hoped.

You have joined Ivar’s army and followed him to England as soon as you’ve heard of his plan to avenge his father. He had refused to let you come at first. ‘Are you insane?!’ You remember him shouting straight to your face, a few droplets of his spit even hitting your red cheek. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed. I won’t allow it. I cannot lose you.’ Crawling out of your wooden cabin, he had left you utterly confused that day. Why would he still care?

But you being your stubborn self ignored his pleas and showed up at the deck on the morning they were sailing off – your sword in your belt and your shield on your back, ready to fight. With an exaggerated sigh he gave you a short nod, allowing you to get on the boat.

That was weeks ago, and now here you were – in a foreign country, sitting on the dirty and slightly wet grass, alone. You could hear laugher coming from the camp further in the forest, but you didn’t want to be there. You didn’t want to see him. His thick dark hair and wide blue eyes have been hunting you ever since before you left Kattegat. Ever since that night – the night he broke your heart and crushed your dreams. He had met someone else.

It wasn’t exactly how he had phrased it, of course. He explained he had to marry soon; and his eldest brother had found a girl who was willing to spend the rest of her life with Ivar the Boneless. You had almost laughed out loud as these words left his rosy lips. You would have been more than happy to marry him; and deep down you knew he knew it. But it seemed all these months together meant nothing to him. All these walks, all these hugs, all these kisses and all these nights spent in your little cabin that meant the world to you; meant absolutely nothing to him.

He had offered that you could still see each other; said that things did not have to change. But you couldn’t do it, you didn’t want to share the man you loved with some pretty blonde girl who has only arrived in Kattegat. You asked him to leave you alone that night, and after a few minutes of apologising he did – letting you cry yourself to sleep.

You’ve seen him around the village every day; and every day you pretended that everything was great while in reality your heart ached and every time your eyes met his you felt like it was being ripped straight out of your chest.

These feelings grew even worse when he started spending more time with her. She was beautiful, you couldn’t deny it. Her long blonde hair shone in the sunlight, her light blue eyes and her flawless skin gave her an angelic look that you surely did not have. She was a lady and you were a warrior. Your skin was scarred and your hair dirty most of the time, as you spent all of your free time training and learning new fighting skills. Yet you could still feel his eyes on you, watching you like a hawk. Observing your every move every time you would cross his path.

A loud shout followed by more drunken laughter brought you back to reality, back to England. Groaning you rose to your feet, hissing at how sore they felt as you took a few steps towards the deep voices emerging from the forest. Hiding your frozen face into the fur wrapped around you, you made your way to the camp slowly, dragging your feet in the cold mud.

All eyes were on you as soon as you emerged from behind a large pine, the fire illuminating your tired face and messy hair. You bowed your head as your gaze met Bjorn’s, him giving you a small nod before returning his attention to Ubbe. You could see Hvitserk and Sigurd from the corner of your eye; eating and drinking ale. You wondered for a minute where Ivar was. Was he sleeping already? Or maybe just hiding in his tent? But as soon as the questions crossed your mind you got your answer, as you heard shuffling noises coming from your right.

You refused to look him in the eye thought, even as he murmured your name loud enough for only you to hear, begging you to stay. Swallowing the lump in your throat you marched towards your small private tent – the perks of being close to all the Ragnarssons.

He has been like this even since you’ve sailed off. Always nearby, asking you to hear him out whenever the two of you were alone. But you did not want to listen to him. It was too hard – having him right there, but not being able to touch him, love him like you used to. Who were you kidding? You still loved him, and you always would. But you couldn’t have him, not under these circumstances. Not when his soon-to-be wife was patiently waiting for him back home. You were not this kind of woman.

Branches cracked under your heavy boots, letting everyone know you were leaving even though you’ve just arrived. You thought you heard him let out a loud sight, but you weren’t sure anymore – your mind has been playing tricks on you these days. You always felt like someone was nearby, observing you. But when you turned around none was ever here.

Hvitserk called out your name, making you stop in your tracks and turn around. He offered you some food and with a gesture of his hand and a nod of his head asked you to sit next to him. He was concerned, you could tell. The way his brows furrowed and his lips formed a tight line gave it away. You knew they’ve all been worried about you ever since… ever since that night when Ivar left you.

But the worst part was that they didn’t even know what happened. Yours and Ivar’s relationship was a secret. None was aware of you two meeting every night; spending that time tangled under your sheets; breathing heavily as your bodies moved together. Not even his brothers. So when you started acting strangely – spending less time on the training grounds, avoiding them and barely speaking to them, the Ragnarssons got curious and started asking questions. But you always brushed them away with a small smile and a carefree wave of your hand, saying they wouldn’t understand.

Smiling at him, you shook your head slowly, declining his offer, and you could practically hear him sigh even from where you were standing, on the other side of the burning fire. You weren’t even that hungry but the way he looked at you, with pity, his eyes filled with what resembled sadness, made you feel uncomfortable and guilty. He was like a brother to you, they all were. And it pained you to see him like this, all because of you.

Closing your eyes for a second, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves before re-opening them again. Your heartbeat quickened as you noticed the youngest son of Ragnar sitting on the log next to his brother now. How did he even get there so quickly? With another slow puff, you smiled at Hvitserk once more before turning back around, leaving the group behind as fast as your aching legs would let you.

You had a long day ahead of you and needed to rest. If the weather conditions permitted it, your army was to attack tomorrow. You had to be ready.

Shouts and grumbles of impatient warriors woke you at an ungodly hour. Squinting your eyes, you peered to your left only to be met with nothing; like you did every morning for the last couple of months. It was automatic, really. A bad habit. One you couldn’t wait to get rid of.

Your night had been really short but eventful; filled with realistic dreams of the only man whom you did not wish to dream of anymore. You’ve woken up more than once, sweat pooling down your flushed face, shivers running down your spine as your eyes wandered around the dark shadows in a search of him. But he wasn’t here, and deep down you were grateful of that.

Throwing the furs off your body, you got up and immediately put on your armour. The smell of freshly roasted chicken reached your nostrils and as in on cue, your stomach grumbled. Peering out of your tent, you easily spotted where the mouth-watering scent came from and made your way there; greeting a few fellow Vikings on your way.

You sat near the shield maidens, not paying much attention to their conversation as you dig in; barely chewing before swallowing. You probably looked like Hvitserk at the moment, very unwomanly like, but you couldn’t care less. You were starving.

Deep in thought about the oncoming battle, you did not notice the man who a few feet away from you just as you reached for a second piece of meat. You did not feel his eyes on you; so soft and filled with love. He just sat there, silent. Taking in your features he had missed so much.

Leaving you was the hardest thing Ivar had to do in his life so far. He loved you, yet he left. Deep down, Ivar felt like he never was enough for you. So he believed leaving you was the best thing to do. He knew you would find someone new; someone who’d make you smile wider and laugh louder than he did. A nice Viking who would take good care of you; not an irritable and stubborn man like him. He believed you deserved to be with someone who would fill all of your desires and turn your life into dream. Not with a selfish young brat with a passion for murder and blood.

So when Bjorn introduced him to the blonde woman, a princess of some sort, he saw it as an opportunity. He did not love her like he loved you; he couldn’t even stand the woman. She was too fragile, too shy for him. She was weak and boring, always complaining about everything; while you were the strongest woman he has ever met, always with a smile plastered to her face. She was your polar opposite.

But he couldn’t marry a warrior; it was way too risky and complicated. So he went with Bjorn’s offer, and decided to marry the so-called princess.

Clearing his throat, he finally got your attention. Ivar smiled uncomfortably as the look of pure panic crossed your bright E/C eyes. But you did not budge and he sighed in relief, settling back in a more comfortable position with his legs thrown straight in front of him. He ran his hands up and down his tights, easing the pain. You diverted your eyes away from them as soon as you caught yourself staring, although you knew he did not mind. You’ve seen his legs on multiple occasions; he wasn’t ashamed of them in front of you.

Looking around you’ve only now noticed the few women who surrounded you only minutes ago were now gone and the closest person was a slave cleaning some armours, standing what seemed like miles away from the log you were sitting on.

Throwing the last chicken bone into the still burning fire, you cleaned your hands using your tunic. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears growing louder and faster, but you refused to move, to say anything.

What did he want? Didn’t he see how he was just making things more difficult by trying to get to you every single day? You could see him shuffle from the corner of your eye, his body moving an inch closer to yours. He took in a deep breath before opening his mouth.

“I don’t want you at the front of the line today, Y/N.” He said softly, making your brows furrow. You turned to face him and was met with the big blue eyes you’ve missed so much. But you could not believe what he was saying. You were one of his best warriors, always in the first row.

“What?” You asked, your breath short and voice sharp it made him gulp slowly, leaving you quite satisfied.

“I want you to stay back, only attack if you really have to.” You were beyond enraged by now. Standing up, you huffed and were ready to stamp off when he grabbed you tightly by the wrist, bringing your body closer to his. You gasped at the sudden movement, your messy hair falling into your eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt, love.” And as this word left his mouth, you lost it. The way his blue eyes bore into yours, the way his lips curved as his thumb caressed the dry skin of your wrist was way too much for you to handle on such a day.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore, Ivar.” Breaking away from his grasp, you brought your hand to your chest holding it there as for a few more seconds you stared into his mesmerizing eyes. You gave him a stern look to which he responded with another small smile before you turned around, marching back towards your tent to get your shield and get ready to leave; blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down your puffy cheeks.

You were stubborn, extremely stubborn. And as much as Ivar wanted to yell at you from his chariot; chase you and reprimand you for disobeying his orders, he couldn’t. Instead he smiled a smile barely visible to the human eye. He was scared, terrified even. But also so proud of the warrior you had become.

He watched from afar as you ran among the others Vikings; your shield securely placed in front of you and your sword pointing towards the enemy. You looked furious; your body radiating such energy. He could practically hear you growl and see your eyes darken as you made your way to the front, slashing bodies on your way. His breath hitched as he saw the Saxon’s blood splash over your gorgeous face. A wicked smirk pulled at the corners of your lips as some of it reached your tongue, the metallic taste taking over your senses.

The way your body moved so freely, so naturally, got him in a trance. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. That is until Floki shouted his name, giving him an annoyed look before he took off, an axe in his hand.

The battle was in full swing, the Saxons defending themselves well; but Ivar had faith in his army. He had no doubt about their victory. His victory. His blue eyes shone with mischief as he watched his man slaughter the poor bastards, laughing occasionally as some of them begged for mercy on their knees.

He looked from his chariot as his army progressed leaving massacred, bloodied bodies behind. Screams, groans and the smell of blood filled the chilly air, leaving the prince grinning, satisfied. He felt at the top of the world, as if Odin himself was patting him on the back. His heart full with pride.

Defeated, the Saxons started to retreat, running away from the Heathen’s army as fast as their damaged physiques let them. Moving his chariot forward, Ivar smirked; his cheeks almost ached. He had led his people to victory.

But the moment was short lived as from the corner of his eye he saw the familiar mess of H/C hair, lying motionless on the ground. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he practically threw himself off the chariot, crawling his way over the dead bodies until he reached you.

Turning you around, his worried eyes examined your frame, his hands immediately moving up to cup your cold face. You were alive. He could feel your faint pulse under his thumb as he stroke it down your neck, letting him know that your heart was still beating. His breaths grew heavier and his hands clammy as he frantically looked around, silently praying to the Gods to send a healer your way.

A small whimper followed by a cough made him turn back to face you, his mouth hanging agape. Your beautiful E/C eyes fluttered open, focusing on him as you tried to push yourself up onto your elbows – but you gave up as soon as you tried, an agonizing pain taking over your left side. Looking down you noticed a dark patch of thick blood coating your tunic. You let your head fall back down, only for Ivar to catch it before it hit the hard ground.

“Don’t move.” He murmured as you reached for the wound with your free hand, chocking on his words. Your eyes met his once more and you couldn’t help but to smile at how concerned he looked.

“I’m alright.” You replied tiredly, coughing out some blood. Alarmed, Ivar brought your body closer to his; holding you to his chest as his hand moved to your side; covering the wound so you wouldn’t bleed out. Your head felt heavy and your mind dizzy; your vision blurred. Yawning, you decided to close your eyes only to open them seconds later as the blue-eyed Viking called your name.

“Don’t close your eyes.” His fingers played with your hair as he looked down at you, paying close attention to the sounds and expressions you made. What was he even on about? Furrowing your brows, you scoffed, burying your head into his warm chest. You could feel him yell more than you could hear it; his chest swelling up and vibrating as he called for help.

Heavy footsteps made the ground around you shake as you laid immobile in Ivar’s arms; breathing in and out, in and out slowly. You felt good, really. At peace. You were finally back in the arms of your lover; back where you belonged. A hint of guilt pinched at your heart as you remembered the princess back in Kattegat but it did not last long, as another pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your spent body; lifting you off Ivar’s lap.

And that’s when you realised you weren’t alright. Your whole body felt numb and cold. You could feel that the tip of your nose, your fingers and your toes were frozen. You could feel blood and saliva running down your exposed neck; the wound on your side opening up as the person carried you somewhere. You cried out, with all the force you had left. Screaming in agony as they placed you on a wooden floor.

“I’m right here, love.” His voice was trembling, soft yet filled with so many different emotions. Pain, fear, dread. He wasn’t ready to lose you. Not now, not ever. He was planning on talking to you after the battle, not letting you go until you listen to him this time. He wanted to tell you he was going to leave her, and be with you again.

He was going to hold you, kiss you and eventually make love you again, after all those months. It was all organised in his mind. You were supposed to go back to Kattegat together, and get married. You’d move in with him and start a family. He couldn’t care less about what his men or his brothers would say. He wanted you and only you. You were the right person for him.

But now here you were, lying in his arms again while his older brother drove the chariot to the camp. He was convinced everything would go back to normal, but once again he could feel it slip right through his fingers.

Tears filled your eyes as you watched him bite on his lower lip nervously. Were you going to die? Gods, you hoped not.

“I- Ivar.” You chocked out, groaning at how dry your throat felt. His focus was on you in a second, blue eyes boring into yours. You gave him a reassuring smile, your right hand moving up to his face. He did not try to stop you but moved his face into your palm instead. You felt him relax under your touch, your thumb tracing circles on his hot skin. He was so warm compared to you.

“Rest, Y/N. They’re going to take care of you.” He said and you swear you saw a single tear run down his cheek. You nodded your head slowly, relieving in his warmth and his sweet calming words. “I love you, Y/N. Don’t leave me.”

His words were the only thing keeping your head out of the water; giving you strength and will. You could only nod and hoped the way you looked up at him was enough to let him know that you loved him too.

The noise around you increased; voices and hushed grew louder – signalling you were almost there.

Taking one last glance at the man of your dreams, your lips curved into a small smile. You loved him; you trusted him with your whole life. You knew he was going to get you out of here; take good care of you.

Ivar’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly – letting you know he was right here, and he would always be from now on. Closing your eyes, you finally let yourself relax knowing you were going to be taken care of. Knowing that when you open them again, the first thing you’ll see will be him and that you’ll never have to keep them away from him ever again.

A/N: I hope y’all weren’t expecting a great ending; you should know by now that I suck at these lol

#ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar #vikings imagine #ivar's heathen army #sister wives #history vikings #alex høgh andersen #alex høgh andersen imagine #Alex Høgh imagine #hvitserk #ubbe ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #sigurd snake in the eye

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