#strongly implied though no worries

[daimyosprincess]

AN HONEST DAY'S WORK

—PAIRING: Contractor!Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: You have a very special project you want your parents’ contractor, Boba Fett, to work on.

—WORD COUNT: 9k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, contractor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), reader described as having hair, Boba is a dirty old man and doesn’t mind saying so 😈, likely an excessive use of pet names by yours truly, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), squirting, cum eating, soft Boba 🥹, mentions of a shitty ex

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you @baufraus for slapping a tool belt on that old man, you’re doing the lord’s work 😌 Enjoy besties 💖

Divider by the @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

What a pleasant thing to be woken up by your alarm, you think, stretching out in a luxurious full body stretch under your flowery covers. After a month and a half of what felt like constant construction right outside your window, waking to your buzzing alarm was a welcome relief from the jagged sounds of powertools and hard machinery. 

While you love your parents dearly, their desire to turn the backyard of your childhood home into a suburban oasis has been a less than pleasant experience for you. They certainly deserved to enjoy their retirement after putting you and your siblings through school, but the necessity of such renovations during your last year of your masters was dubious to you at best.

All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings. Even with the long hours of inescapable noise and constant stream of people in and around the house, you’re grateful to be there. And, if you’re completely honest, you’re also extremely grateful for the unexpected front row seat to watch the handsome contractor heading the whole operation. 

Boba Fett hasn’t left your thoughts since the day he arrived at your front door dressed in khaki cargo pants, a form fitting t-shirt, and a tool belt slung low across his hips. His perfect white smile and smoldering dark eyes left you speechless then and have continued to bedevil you ever since, winding your insides (and panties) into knots. The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least. Between his sparkling winks, dazzling smile, and delicious voice calling you “princess” and “sweetheart,” you haven’t known a moment’s peace—even when the crew finally went home in the evenings.

It’s all enough to drive you totally insane.

Lucky for him, however, it hasn’t. Staring up at the familiar ceiling above you, you smile: today is the day you will finally have your revenge. The contractor had teased and poked at you for weeks and you’d been powerless to do anything more than glower and huff at him due to the constant company of your parents and his crew. But now you have him all to yourself for an entire day with the house to yourself and his workers off—and you have no intention of showing him any mercy.

It’s been nearly two years since you’ve had anything close to what one could consider “action.” Between school and your research fellowship, you haven’t had any time to go to parties or bars or wherever adults are supposed to meet people to do it with. No, for two long years, it has been you and your vibrator against the world. 

Boba Fett is going to fix that.

After a quick shower and a punched-up version of your morning routine, you’re almost ready to set your plan into motion. Flicking through your closet, you decide on your favorite floral sundress with a pair of cute sandals. Now dressed, you smooth your hands down the light fabric, smiling at your reflection in the mirror; you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-

Heat flares in your belly at the thought of Boba’s large, work-rough hands pulling up the hem of your dress to kiss up your soft thighs, his tongue spelling out all the dirty, awful things he wants to do to you in your parents’ own home… his lips wrapping around that desperate, aching spot between your legs and making that burning need finally go away in an explosion of pent-up pleasure.

Fuck. You bite down hard on your lip to stop from hopping back beneath your covers and touching yourself to the rest of that particular fantasy. The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.

Taking a deep breath, you push away your lewd imaginings and check your phone. You have just enough time to grab your books and position yourself on the deck before Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter. 

With one last check in the mirror, you hurry towards your bedroom door only to stop short a second later. Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.

Chancing a glance over the top of your unread book, you spy Boba leaning across a board and marking it with a flat drafting pencil. The suggestive slant of his hips and the sheen of perspiration on his brow made a slew of very suggestive images flood your brain. Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?

Boba had to be showing off. There’s simply no explanation for why he needed to carry that much lumber on his shoulder or measure that many things high enough for his gray t-shirt to ride up and reveal a tempting peek at the dark trail of hair leading into his jeans. And since when did there need to be so much drilling? He is sorely beating you at your own game, and that simply would not do—not when you need him so bad you’re scheming and panty-less in your parents’ backyard. 

“See something you like, princess?”

Kark. Shaking your head, you blink your eyes like you’ve been caught deep into your reading. “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”

He straightens, arching a brow as he dusts himself off. As you follow his hands across his strong torso and thighs you realize too late that your eyes have wandered to his crotch. Smirking, Boba runs a palm over his face to wipe away the sweat there. “Never mind that,” he chuckles, “Could I interrupt your ‘study session’ for something to drink?”

The audacity of this man! Scoffing at your (admittedly weak) attempt at school work like he hasn’t been putting on a show himself for the past hour and a half.

You’re not going to let yourself be beat at your own game. Plastering on a big smile, you answer in a honey-sweet voice. “Actually, my mom made some sandwiches and lemonade since you had to come by on your day off. Why don’t you freshen up and take a seat over here,” you motion to the couch across from you, “and I’ll be out with lunch in a couple minutes.” 

Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so. When you re-emerge a few minutes later with the promised food and drink, he’s spread out over the couch with a fresh shirt on and looking every bit as regal as a king on a throne. You suppose it’s only fitting that he calls you his princess when he thanks you for bringing out the meal.

Picking up a sandwich, Boba nods to your stack of readings on the side table. “Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”

You’re ready to give him some giggly, flippant reply but the genuine look of interest on his face stops you. For a stricken second you’re tongue tied by the thought of your parents’ hot contractor being genuinely interested in you as a person. Shimmering, unbidden fantasies float through your mind of Boba pulling out your chair for you on a date, the two of you sitting around a bonfire with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, him kissing the top of your head as he leaves for work in the morning. The images curl through the heat of your desire for him, mixing with the safe warmth and happiness he brings you.

Maybe…

You quickly scramble to answer before your imagination can run rampant and put dangerous thoughts of something more with him into your head. 

“Speech-language pathology and therapy. Originally I was doing special education but then I really enjoyed my communicative disorders class, so my professor helped me apply to an internship program that convinced me to change my concentration. I even got into the fellowship program in the speech lab at St. Mary’s this semester and-” 

You look up to see Boba staring at you so fondly that it makes your chest ache and your words evaporate into flushed smoke. “Oh, u-um, sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all that… basically, I’m studying ways to help people speak easier.” You take a long sip of lemonade to avoid saying anything else, mentally kicking yourself to get it together. You have a plan and you need to stick to it, no matter how tingly and fuzzy he makes your heart feel.

The couch creaks as Boba shifts forward to rest his forearms on his knees so he can meet your downcast eyes. “Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”

That same warm, shimmery feeling from before returns and you smile at him. “Thanks,” you murmur, wondering if it’s normal for his tenderness to make you want to get in his pants even more. You don’t care either way. Clearing your throat, you roll back your shoulders and lean back against the plump cushions. “Well I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got any more, uh, “measuring” to do.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he winks.

“Right.” He nods to his cleared plate. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Of course,” you assure him, “gotta make sure you keep your strength up for any… activities you might get up to.”

Boba laughs rich and deep as he pushes up from the couch. “You really are too good to me, princess.”

If only he knew just how good I can be.

The following hour passes in pleasant, if sexually charged, silence as both of you vie to make the other crack first. When he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing the thick wall of muscle and softer belly underneath, you finally decide enough is enough. If he’s playing dirty, you will too.

Reaching your arms above your head, you stretch and let out a suggestive groan that has Boba’s head snapping towards you. Of course, you pretend you don’t notice and continue your stretch, leisurely easing out your legs to their full length. With his eyes boring into you, you purposefully slide your knees up the couch cushions so the hem of your flowy dress rides dangerously high up your thighs. You can physically feel the tables turning in your favor, upper hand slipping from him to you in this one powerful, heady moment.

Tilting your head back to meet his burning gaze, you savor the feeling, watching through your lashes as his breath stutters in his chest. Then, taking your lip between your teeth, you slowly open your thighs, one, then the other, to reveal the glistening folds hidden between them.

For a brief second, it seems like he’s going to snap the board in his hands with the way his muscles strain against his shirt. When you moan a quiet little sound as you stretch again, he slams the wood down and stalks over you with his fists clenching.

Blinking up at him with siren eyes, you give him a sultry smile. “See something you like, handsome?” you mimic, reaching out to drag your fingers down his arm. 

He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-”

Before you can chicken out, you flip the front of your dress above your waist with your free hand. “About this?” 

Boba sucks in a sharp breath and stares for a long second, the muscles in his jaw working in tight feathers before he yanks your dress back down over your legs. “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”

As if you haven’t thought about this very thing for weeks on end, writhing and panting to the thought of Boba Fett doing every dirty thing to you that you could come up with. No, if anything, you need to stop thinking and start feeling everything your wicked thoughts had conjured up about this man.

“Boba, please,” you whine, the feel of his hand on your skin making your voice desperate, “I’m sure, I’m so, so sure I swear.” His grip tightens and you can sense he’s waiting to hear for something more concrete. “I’ve thought about you every day, every night… I want you, Boba. Please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart…” His skin burns against yours and he curses again, dropping your wrist and coming to his knees in front of you. “Tell me then,” he grunts, bracing himself between your thighs, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 

Pure, molten want burns in his eyes, igniting the desperate tinder of your desire. What didn’t you want him to do? You’ve dreamed about him taking you every possible way in every possible place, groaning your name and screwing you senseless. What could you say when you want everything he’ll give you? 

Luckily, your tongue has the answer your brain does not. “Kiss me,” you gasp, “Please kriffing kiss me.” 

And like he’d been waiting his entire life to hear you say those very words, he’s on you, pushing you back against the pillows and crashing his perfect lips against yours in a scorching fury. Your body welcomes his intensity, instinctually shaping itself around his strong hips and wide shoulders as you claw at him to get closer. Fuck, you’re already greedy for him, your skin thirsting for his and your pussy soaking your dress beneath it.

“W-wait,” you gasp, hating the way he immediately recoils even as you appreciate his caution. You don’t want to give Boba any reason to stop but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in the heat of things either. “I’ve never, um, well… I’ve never had… never with someone else.” You wince; your words sound even worse than they did tripping through your head. Anxiety pricks your heated skin—you want to bury yourself into his shirt and hide there forever.

Why did you bring this up? You should’ve just gone with it like before.

When he speaks, Boba’s voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Princess, baby, look at me.” He rolls the both of you up to a sitting position, giving you just enough space to pull away if you needed to while still being close. Gently taking one of your clenched fists into his large hand, he smooths your fingers out, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb. 

You sneak a peek at him. Gone is the hot fervor of passion that previously colored his features; now he’s a softer shade that beckons you into his comfort. 

“There she is,” he smiles, rewarding you with his own when you force your face up to his. The urgent tear of worry in your chest eases and you melt into his side. “Now, how about you tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?” 

“Really, it’s nothing,” you try, knowing it won’t work as soon as you say it. All you want to do is go back to him kissing the air out of your lungs and to have his fingers brushing over your soaked slit, but Boba isn’t going to let you off the hook. 

Damn him and his honorable ways.

Boba sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He lays his cheek on top of your head and wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Listen, if all this is happening too fast, if you want to stop here, we can. I won’t be mad, baby. Your first time should be with someone special, and if that’s not me then that’s alright.”

First time? Realization dawns on you a second later and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from your belly. Giggling, you arch up and give the confused man next to you a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, Boba, really. But that’s not what I meant.” A new kind of nervousness pools in your gut now, one that swirls with hot anticipation rather than cold dread. 

Grabbing his free hand for support, you look into the warm depth of his eyes as his fingers curl around yours. “What I was trying to say was that… well, that no one else has ever made me come before. I’ve made myself come plenty of times but,” yikes, did you have to say that?, “I’ve only been with one other guy and he never made me… I mean, I got close one time but he never actually made me finish.”

The concerned look on Boba’s face melts into a glorious laugh that rumbles your chest. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and kissing in between delighted gasps for air. A bright sense of joy permeates every cell in your body and you tuck it safely inside your heart. If this was your first time, you know that you’d want it to be with him. Maybe you’ll pretend this is your first time.

“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you’re worried about?” he finally sighs, his warm breath tickling your neck. You nod against him.

In one quick motion, Boba scoops you up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you to grab your ass through your dress. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm?” He groans into your ear when you shiver against him. “Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”

This time, you’re the one who slams your lips against his, stealing whatever dark, sweet words he had left from his tongue. You mewl into his open mouth as he rocks your bare core over the thick denim straining over his erection. The seam of his jeans catches your clit perfectly and you would have cried out loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear if Boba hadn’t held your face against his.

“Easy there, beautiful,” Boba chuckles, “we don’t need everyone knowing what we’re up to, not till we’re done anyways, yeah?” You hum in agreement and bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling his clean smell and the surprisingly attractive scent of a day’s work clinging to his skin. “Now, tell me about this boy before, did he make you feel good? Make you want to flash your bare cunt to him and beg him to take you where anyone could walk around and see?”

Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying. The only thing he ever made you want was for him to hurry up so you could go in the bathroom and finish yourself off. He had been nice enough, but, nice enough didn’t make your eyes cross and pussy wet. “He never, shit, he never…” you gasp as Boba grinds you harder against himself, “I had to beg him to eat me out and even then he complained about it every time.”

“Complained? Kark, princess, tasting you is all I’ve been able to think about for a month. In fact,” Boba grins wickedly, “I’d like to solve that problem right now, with your permission, of course.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lips like he’s preparing to enjoy the best meal of his life.

You can’t give him your permission fast enough.

Reaching behind his back, Boba tosses one of the decorative pillows from the couch onto the deck and slides down to kneel on it in front of you. “Why don’t you hand me another one of those,” he flashes you a smile and a wink, “My knees aren’t what they used to be.” 

“They didn’t seem to be a problem when you were putting on a show for me earlier,” you snark back, rolling your eyes for extra effect. “I hardly got any reading done with your whole construction worker performance going on.”

Boba tosses his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh that makes you glow for being its source. Grabbing your hips, he yanks you to the edge of the couch, making you squeal. “Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” He leans in, inching your dress up so he can brush his lips over the ticklish skin just above your knees.

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Your lashes flutter shut and you dig your nails into the cushions to keep your composure as Boba begins to pepper kisses up your thighs while his hands massaged what his mouth wasn’t on. “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?” 

Of course, your handsome contractor is exactly right but you’re not going to admit that.

Licking a stripe mere centimeters from where you want him most, Boba huffs a laugh into your damp skin. “All props, sweetheart. Your dress and flirty little smile gave it all away.” His hands travel to the back of your hips where he spreads them wide so you arch against him, bringing the top of your pelvic bone right to his mouth. “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”

Boba’s words feel like they’re coming through a wall of thick molasses, heavy and sweet as they are to your ears. All you can focus on is the heat of his breath whispering across the wetness he caused and how his lips feel ghosting against your soft flesh as he speaks. Kark, how are you supposed to think with him like this, kneeling for the very opportunity to put his mouth where you’ve dreamed it would be so many times? All that time trembling, aching, yearning for him and he was finally yours—at least for now—and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

You bunch up the material of your dress in a fist and force your hazy eyes to focus on him. “Either way, it got me what I truly wanted,” you smile affectionately, “You.” 

An emotion flashes across Boba’s sun-bronzed face so quickly it feels like a secret to have seen it, something deep and tender, petal-soft and just as vulnerable. Something words couldn’t quite express and certainly not something he wanted to be seen. It made him feel so frighteningly human that you want to bury him in your chest and murmur all lovely things he makes you feel until he feels safe enough to let that emotion out of its closely guarded cage.

A second later, however, his usual cocksure expression is back in place. “Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”

You couldn’t have refused his request even if it wasn’t the hottest thing you ever heard, not with the way you’re so agonizingly ready that you’re literally dripping with arousal. “Boba, please. Need your-ooohh!” A searing shock of pleasure ricochets up your spine as his tongue swipes through the web of slick pooled in your slit. 

Your intense reaction spurs Boba on and he immediately dives into your core, jamming his face between your legs and groaning loudly as he inhales your scent. “Sweet as fucking cherry pie, baby. Shit, come here,” he growls, yanking you down so nearly your full weight is on his face. “I want you down my damn throat, you’re so delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”

You wish you could open your scrunched eyes to see the expression that matches his blissed out tone, but it’s impossible with the way his tongue is flicking through folds as he sucks up every drop of your slick like he needs it to live. Heat pumps through your veins, lighting you up until you’re sure you could replace the sun. In less than thirty seconds, Boba has made you feel more beautiful, more cherished than you ever felt in your entire life.

As your knees begin to buckle from the luscious intensity of his mouth, Boba tosses your right leg over his shoulder, balancing you across his face and giving him the perfect opportunity to flatten his tongue against your clit. You have to slap a hand across your mouth to keep from screaming when he starts a pace that has you riding his face with fervent abandon, your hand dropping your dress to clutch at the back of his skull for more pressure.

Boba moans and scrapes his teeth over your clit, making you squeal and jolt at the sharp sensation. “Fucking hell, girl, you really are dirty, aren’t you? I never should have waited to get my mouth on you. Lay down for me, I wanna feel that tight cunt squeezing my fingers while you make a mess on my face.”

As much as you don’t want to part with his mouth, the temptation to feel him stretching you out on his thick fingers, stroking all the places your own can’t reach, is too great to resist. Scrambling back onto the couch, you tuck yourself into the corner to give him the maximum amount of access to your trembling body. 

Boba grins up at you, his face up to his eyes shiny with your slick. “Howya feeling, sweetheart? Ready for me to make you see stars?”

In response, you just toss the fabric of your dress over your shoulder and roll your hips forward.

Boba was a man of his word, bringing you to the edge of orgasm once with mouth and hands then once more with his cock as took you from behind—you’re in actual tears with how good every single one of his movements feel. Every drag of his cock is pure pleasure, every touch of his hands delicious delight, and every kiss is incandescent bliss. You’re never going to be the same again.

“Oh, my filthy little girl,” he taunts, grabbing a handful of your tits as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, “what would your parents think, hmm? What would they do if they knew you let an old man bend you over the table they’ll eat off of? That you’re bouncing on his dick and begging him for more on their couch?”

“Oh, fuck! Boba!” A wave of liquid arousal floods your core, make the sound of him fucking into you even wetter. 

“Yeah? You like it when I talk like that, sweetheart? You like knowing that I’m going to own every part of you then send you back to them with a smile on my face and your cum leaking down my cock?”

Every single one of his sex-stained words sear into your skin, going straight to your throbbing clit. Every beat of your pounding heart brings you closer and closer to the bright brink of orgasm, every roll of his hips thrusting his length into that perfect spot inside you. Fuck he’s going to make me come if he keeps… fuck!

“Kark, baby, I can feel you squeezing me with that perfect tight cunt. Shit, you’re so-”

You can’t take it anymore. Falling forward onto his heaving chest, you dig your nails into the thick muscle there and start grinding your aching clit against him like some feral animal chasing their heat. 

Faster, harder, faster, fuck! Just like that, juuuust like that and you’ll feel that perfect fucking release, just a little more and…

Boba stills his bucking hips and halts your rocking.

You howl, clawing at his unmoving body. “No, please!” you sob, “I’m so close, please don’t stop now!”

Boba shushes you with the press of his mouth. “Shh, you’ll get what you want, baby, I promise you. But if I'm gonna be the first man to make you come, I’m gonna make it much more memorable than that was going to be.”

The thought of anything more than the building pleasure thrashing in core was unimaginable. How on earth could it be better than him balls deep inside you hitting your g-spot like it’s what he was made for? Never in your wildest dreams had you felt this good, even when you had hours alone to tease yourself before riding out the wave of your orgasm. If there was anything greater than this pleasure you’re not sure you would survive it—not with your mind intact, anyways.

Sliding his hands under your slicked thighs, Boba swings his legs off the couch and stands with a huff, keeping himself sheathed inside you. You grind into the fabric of his shirt until gives your ass a firm swat and you a stern warning to behave, which you’re too desperate to test. He walks the pair of you over to the large, oak table and plops you on top of it. The rich grain is supple and smooth on your bare skin, and Boba eases your back flat against it as he kisses and gropes across your body.

“Alright, princess,” he pulls away slightly to rest his damp forehead on yours, “I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Brushing your hands down his neck and shoulders, you’d promise him anything he asked. “O-okay, Boba.”

He peppers a few kisses on your tear-stained cheeks before continuing, letting his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace. “When I tell you to, I want you to release all your muscles and completely let go. Don’t hold anything in, alright, babygirl?”

You’re not sure where he’s leading you but you have complete faith in the fact that it’s going to be mind blowing. You give him your affirmation and he presses a small kiss on your lips.

“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.” 

You’re in such a hurry to comply that you get frustrated by the straps of your dress and bra, to which Boba chuckles and makes quick work of them, dragging the material down until your chest was bared for his mouth to claim. He curses when you press the soft flesh of your breasts together, moaning when your fingers brush over your pert nipples. For a minute he just watches you revel in the pleasure of your own hands, fucking yourself shallowly on him as you pluck and caress the sensitive skin beneath your fingers. 

Boba is a man entranced, his dark eyes glassy with want. Under his reverential gaze, you feel so desired, so utterly divine, like you’re his own personal goddess—he stares down at you as your most pious devotee who longs for nothing more than to feel the blessing of your body and the joy of your bliss.

“Boba…” you whisper duskily. He leans into your outstretched hand and you pull him into your arms with a crushing kiss.

As if he can read exactly what you need, he hikes your leg over his hip and begins a pace of snapping thrusts that has your entire body bouncing with their bruising force. “Pretty baby, precious girl, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he pants into your neck, pressing his lips there to taste the salt of your skin, “Been dying to take care of you like this, sweetheart. Watching you work so hard, leaving early and coming back late… you’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”

With the way he’s hitting every single sweet spot that makes you feel like a woman, all you can manage is a breathy affirmative and a few warbling words. “Y-yes, Boba, w-wanted you s-so bad. Thought-thought about you every n-night. Ohhhh fuck!”

 Boba lifts your hips and guides your legs to lock around him, giving him a mind-shattering angle as he drives into your wet heat. After swallowing down your cries of pleasure with a searing kiss, he wraps his large hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he continues. 

“So loud, aren’t you, princess? No, I like that, I like hearing how good I make you feel, like knowing I’m the only one who has you making these sweet fucking sounds.” Leaning back, he trails his free hand up your calf, letting it follow the curve of your thigh and giving your ass a smack that makes your eyes roll back. “Because I’m the only one who makes you feel like this, the only one who can make this perfect pussy soak and come. You just needed a real man to give you what you needed, huh, sweetheart? Come on, answer me and I’ll make you scream.”

Every nerve in your body is lighting up, every neuron in your brain firing with blinding pleasure. The voice that claws its way from your throat is wrecked and ragged, gasping and begging for more, more, more. The heat and pressure building in your core is volcanic, and you absolutely need it to burn you alive. Only then could you shed the weight of everything that came before and become the beautiful thing Boba is crafting with every sinful word and scalding caress.

“That’s it, just like that, pretty baby,” Boba grunts in praise when you start chasing his thrusts with your own. “Take what you need, what you deserve. Use my cock… I’m all yours, all fucking yours, princess.”

You can’t see him behind your scrunched eyelids, but you can hear the sincerity laced through his words like a shining vein of shimmering gold. The images of him wrapping his arm around you at campfire, settling you into your chair on a date come flashing back, play across your mind with such visceral clarity you could almost reach out and touch them. There was so much warmth to this man, so much untapped softness and care underneath his rough-hewn exterior that you want so karking bad you can taste it hot on your tongue. You want him loving you, fucking you, caring for you every single day from now until forever. Most urgently, however, you want him to mark your very soul with his in an orgasm so intense you leave your body.

“B-boba, Boba, please! I’m so close, I-I want you so bad! Please!” you beg between his fingers over your mouth as your hands paw at his sweat-slicked skin. 

“I got you, babygirl, I got you. Come here.” Boba crushes his mouth against yours, licking your taste onto his tongue with a moan. When he finally breaks your kiss, his cheeks are flushed with carnal color and his eyes are glazed with devoted fervor. “Remember what I said before, sweetheart? About letting go, releasing all your muscles?” 

You bob your head, biting into your lip to keep your focus on his face. 

“Good. I’m going to count down from ten then I want you to do just that, okay? Can you do that for me? Let me hear you say you understand.”

As if you wouldn’t kiss the very ground he walks on with how good he’s making you feel. “I-I understand.”

He beams at you, a diamond drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Burning ecstasy explodes inside you, snapping your muscles taunt and clamping down on the thick length rocking into you. How can you possibly feel this good, this fucking amazing and you’re not even coming yet? You don’t even remember where you are at this point, only that Boba’s on top of you and his dick’s inside you.

Gagged and bleary-eyed with tears, you arch into his touch when his calloused fingertips find your pulsing clit.

“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Boba’s fingers slide back and forth across your sopping folds with delicious speed, the pressure of his hand singing the glorious feeling into your bones.

“Seven. Six. Five.” His angle changes just slightly so his thrusts aim up towards your belly. Tears run down your temples into your hair and you know you have to be screaming around your spit-soaked dress.

“Four… three…” 

Stars begin to explode in cataclysmic bursts of light as everything in your body tightens into a ball of pure energy. If you could think beyond the primal sensation you would worry that you might literally die with how hard your heart is thundering in your chest.

Boba presses a hand on your lower tummy and everything snaps into stark relief: you can feel every cell in your body, every atom of being as all the light inside you floods to core. 

“Two…” His voice is sabled sin, luscious smoke dripping onto your burning skin in hot, fat drops. “One. Let go, baby, let go of everything.” 

His thrusts, his fingers, his hand pressing into you, everything melts into one caldecent elixir that pours directly into your deepest parts and washes you down to your most tender parts. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t feel anything more, the final dam inside you breaks. Liquid heat washes through you, roaring through your body with all the force of every desire you’ve ever had being met in one singular, perfect moment.

 The waves crashing into you feel so real that it feels like you're soaking through your skin into a puddle of your own arousal.

“Oh, fuuuuck, princess, that’s it…” Boba’s voice strains through clenched teeth and torrid control, the last shreds clinging just barely to his skin. “Fuck yes, you’re f-fucking soaking me, I can’t-shit-I c-can’t… baby, princess, beautiful girl…” 

Your whole world is so soft and warm and full of him that you can’t think a mortal thought, but you know that you have to see the look on his face as he pants and karking whines as his thrusts dissolve into sloppy rutting. With the last of your remaining strength, you peel your wet lashes apart as you shakily tilt your head up. Everything is blurry and rose-hued, and… wet? You try to blink away the clouds in your vision but the bright sheen coating everything below your waist doesn’t disappear.

Seeing your confusion, Boba breaks out into a devilish grin that turns up his flushed cheeks. “See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?” he puffs out, breaking your gaze to drop his chin to chest. His brows knit together in concentration as if he’s hanging on the very last sliver of restraint. 

You can only watch in downey bliss as he scrapes his hand down your belly to swipe his fingers through the wet rivulets trailing down your thighs, transfixed as he brings them dripping to his swollen lips. When the first finger disappears into his mouth, his eyes roll back and his dick throbs inside your ruined pussy. Realization slams into you watching him lap your juice from his palm like sweet nectar, his arms and shirt damply glinting in the sunlight.

I did that, I made him… holy fucking shit did I-

“Fucking hell, babygirl, I want you to squirt all over me every single kriffing day until I die,” Boba hisses, his wrecked rasp one second away from cracking. “Look like a fucking queen, my queen, lying there s-soaked and gorgeous- aaaahh!”

The revelation that you came so hard on his thick, perfect cock that you blacked out a little and squirted to the point Boba was completely soaked, all on your parents’ dining table makes you sob in pleasure and bare down on him with another blinding orgasm. Your fingernails scrape across the wood grain as you flail mindlessly, your back arching up as your head slams back against the table. This climax isn’t as powerful as the first but it still slings you out into the stars, spinning and tumbling through an aurora of colors and light. 

The sudden emptiness of your cunt is replaced by hot ribbons slicing across your belly, pulling you out of the stars and back into your body. You’ve never had anyone come on you before—you had always insisted on a condom with your ex—and it feels impossibly erotic, almost degrading but in the best possible way; not like Boba didn’t care enough about you not to do it but that he was so out of his usually controlled mind with pleasure that he couldn’t help it. Pleasure that you brought him, pleasure he found in you.

You’re reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin, to know that all of this was real, that he wasn’t going to fade away into a dream. Boba leans forward catching himself on the edge of the table while he sucks in breath after shaky breath. He looks so beautiful fucked-out and soft, his usual sharp edges sanded down into a smooth sea glass that reveals a glimpse of his soul.

Eventually he stills and peeks up at you, watching you with adoring brown eyes. He whispers your name, warm and gentle, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He straightens up and reaches back to pull his t-shirt over his head to mop up your stomach and the liquid pooled between your thighs. His shoulders work in glorious exertion, and you watch in awe at the way his skin ripples with his silent strength. 

Finished, he tucks the garment under his arm and eases your dress from your mouth and rearranges it back over your body, murmuring to wait right there. As if you would want to be anywhere other than here with him.

Boba isn’t gone for long, reappearing at your side with a flannel and a water bottle. He’s wearing a white tank top that fits snugly over his broad chest in such a way that it makes you consider seducing him for another around—if you only had the energy to do so. He coos over you, softly instructing you to lift your arms so he can remove your ruined dress. You happily float along, allowing him to undress you and curl you against his chest on the couch with his flannel laid over you for comfort. It smells of him, rich and warm, and he presses the water bottle to your lips. After several greedy gulps, you pull back and tuck your face into his neck, humming with satisfaction.

The two of you doze for a lazy hour, wrapped up in each other while the afternoon breeze pleasantly tinkles the windchimes on the deck.

Eventually, though, you have to break to clean and reclothe yourself. When you amble back outside, Boba has finished wiping down the table with cleaner and a rag from his truck.

“There she is,” he grins, “how’s my pretty princess feeling?”

“Amazing… a little wobbly,” you add truthfully. You’re not sure if your bones will ever fully resolidify after this. Boba opens his arm and you press yourself against him, relishing his touch while you still have it. You don’t want to think about him leaving. “What about you?”

It’s like he can sense your unease and he pulls you closer, placing a kiss into your hair. “Never been better, you were… kriff, you were amazing, baby. Filthy, perfect, wet… and soft, so so soft,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, “like you were made just for me.” 

He leans in to kiss you but stops when he sees the sullen look on your face. Cocking a brow, he lifts up your chin on two fingers. “What’s that look for?”

You can’t look at him. This is the part where he says goodbye and things go back to normal, where you part ways and pretend like this never happened. He’d be back day after day to finish the backyard, a sore reminder of what you desperately want but will never have. Why couldn’t you just let this be a fun fuck and let it go? Why did your heart have to ache for his?

“I-” you swallow the warble in your voice. “I, um… I don’t want to hold you up if you have another job or something after this.” You’re a big girl, you don’t need him to stay and prolong the inevitable—better to rip it off quick like a band-aid. You toss your head towards the table. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

Boba studies you silently, a frown shadowing his handsome features. Every second that passes with you in his arms has your resolve weakening more and more; too much longer and you’ll shatter against his chest.

“I don’t have anything after this…” He pauses, mulling over his words for a tense moment before continuing. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, sweetheart, talk to me, if there’s anything I can do to-”

“No!” You break free from his embrace, hot tears of frustration beading behind your eyes. The last thing you want to do is hurt him but the longer he stays the more it’s going to tear you apart later. Boba steps back, giving you space and your heart twinges in your chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong, really. It’s just…” 

Blowing out a quivering sigh, you force yourself to look him in the eye—he at least deserves that. “It’s just that I don’t like this part, especially with how amazing and wonderful you were. You are. I think it’s just better if we don’t draw this out.” Once again, your eyes drop with the weight of the fast-approaching future.

The following silence is almost unbearably thick, the air congealing to a sodden, soupy haze in your lungs. How could this hurt this much already?

Boba rubs his fingers over his lips thoughtfully, his tan forehead creasing. “Princess… it’s better if we don’t draw ‘what’ out?”

Maker, he is really going to make you say it. No, it wasn’t enough to have made you come so hard you literally soaked the both of you, you have to admit you’re falling for a man twice your age that you’ve known for a month, too. It would be easier to make yourself hate him for that but you can’t bring yourself to confess and do that in the same breath. 

Folding your arms over your chest, you force your focus back on his face. “Boba, I… I know this was just for fun and I’m sorry for making this weird but it would be easier for me if we didn’t pretend this isn’t a goodbye. Like I feel nothing for you. Like you won’t show up here tomorrow like you didn’t fuck me right into my soul in my parents’ backyard.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers curling into tight fists. “Please, just go.”

You can hear Boba shift and you crack open an eye to see him looking at you with longing deep enough to drown in. Finally, he says your name in a voice streaked with a vulnerable emotion you’d never seen him display. “Babygirl, I want you to listen to me, okay? I don’t know how that boy treated you before, but this was never a one time thing to me. I’m far too old to lay down with a woman I don’t intend on having by my side the next day, and all the days after that.” 

Hope seizes your chest as his words settle into you. 

Slowly he moves in front of you, taking your hands in his and gently rubbing them loose like he did before. “Now I’m no poet, sweetheart, I’m just a simple man making his way through life. I can’t make this sound as beautiful as you deserve, but I need you to know that I would never ever do anything to hurt you. I know it’s only been a month but kark, baby, I want you. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and hear your voice when I call you at lunch. I want to bring you tea while you study and make sure you don’t work yourself too hard. Most of all, though, my beautiful girl, I want you to be mine… because I’m already yours.”

The entire world shifts beneath your feet and you collapse into Boba’s waiting arms. When you bury your face into his shoulder, you pinch your thigh to make sure this was all still real. “D-do you,” your voice shakes, your joy threatening to overwhelm you, “do you really mean it?”

He kisses the top of your head and gingerly tilts your face up, caressing the swell of your cheek. “I’ve never been more serious, princess,” he smiles tenderly, “I want to make you mine. If you’ll have me, of course.”

You can’t help the choked laugh that burst from your chest. Pulling him closer, you meet his lips and throw everything you want to say into your kiss, sealing your sentiment into him with the press of your mouth. As much as you want to get lost in his sweet embrace, though, you break to give him an actual answer. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” you giggle breathlessly into him between more kisses. “In fact, I want you to make me yours over and over and over…”

But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” 

“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.” You bite your lip playfully and wiggle your brows at him. Now that the oppressive cloud of doubt has lifted from your mind, you feel positively giddy.

Boba smacks your ass again making you squeal in surprised delight. “Now I want you to go upstairs, pick up that cute little dress you ruined, and bring it to me.”

Your breath catches at his dark, delicious tone and you blink up at him, confused—and definitely turned on. “W-Why?”

Boba spins you around to face the house then wraps an arm around your middle to pull you back against his rising chest. “Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”

His salacious request goes straight to your still-swollen clit and you scurry to your room before you can lose your nerve. When you return, you find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression smug at your obedience. Where your desire to sass him might have been at such pompousness, however, is filled with warm bashfulness as you shuffle over to him. He stretches out the hand that had, until very recently, buried between your legs. Biting your lip, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him as your cheeks burn with aroused embarrassment. 

“Ah ah ah, let me see those pretty eyes, sweetheart,” he tuts. “Let me see that sweet look on your face when you give me the dress I made you squirt all over.”

Heat scalds through you, your heart pumping hot desire into your veins as you drag your eyes to meet his dark ones. Boba takes the dress almost reverently from your hand then brings it up to face and inhales deeply, his eyelids fluttering shut. He groans into the material, desire scraping the sound raw. 

Fuck how are supposed to keep your hands off him long enough to get anything done ever again?

Before you have time to jump his bones, however, Boba’s phone rings loudly, making you jump. He huffs in annoyance and unhooks his phone from his toolbelt. “Sorry, princess, gotta take this.” 

He answers the call, but opens up his arm so you can lean against him. As he talks, his fingers trail up and down your hip, tracing absent-minded patterns that make you glow with affection. The way his body responds to yours, his subconscious little touches, they all confirm his declaration—you’re so happy you might float away if not for his hold on you. All your problems seem far away at the moment and you’re content to leave it that way, if just for now.

When Boba hangs up, he pulls you close to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That was another client of mine,” he explains with a sigh.

You pout. “So you have to go?” 

“Unfortunately.” Kissing you again, he swipes his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, you know I’d much rather be with you. my pretty princess. Can I call you tonight?”

“Of course,” you smile. You enter your number into his phone and send yourself a text. “There. Now you’ll know it’s me.”

Looking down at the collection of suggestive emojis and hearts following your name, Boba lets out a hardy laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, sweetheart.” When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.

Once he’s pulled away in his truck, you realize he left his flannel on the couch. Pulling it around your shoulders, you decide that if Boba could still put in an honest day’s work after fucking you senseless, then you could at least get some actual studying in. After all, your night is already booked.

#look y'all i wrote a fic about boba fett without calling him daddy for once 🙈 #strongly implied though no worries #zwei writes #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #contractor!boba fett #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #an honest day's work fic

[snailmail444]

ohhh, can you do hcs for what the sdv bachelors say during sex?

Bachelor Volume Headcannons

18+ 🌱 NSFW 🌱 MDNI

PART II of the double feature!!! Happy New Year lmao I hope you enjoy this filth 😈 shoutout to @hopefuloverfury who did a HOT bachelor volume headcannon list very recently that I ate UP. Check that out Here

Poll said post as you finish and I had this finished so here you are everyone. As always, MDNI, NSFW content under the cut.

Harvey-

💚 Kinda loud, tbh.

💚 I envision him as captain dad noise already, so I think during sex it carries over and he’s groaning and grunting these hot gravelly moans.

💚 Genuinely. I could go on about the sounds this man is sure to make. Because DAMN. Somebody get him into ASMR sex audios he’d make a fortune.

💚 Now that said I don’t see him as much of a dirty talker.

💚 It doesn’t come naturally to him. He’ll do a bit and try his best to appease you if you’re into it, and he’s definitely a person who could learn, but it’s never been easy for him and won’t be.

💚 Gets too in his head about if what he said was hot or if it was weird. Takes him out of it worrying that he’s taken you out of it. Which, relatable.

💚 But he does know through empirical evidence that his sex noises are hot, so he doesn’t hold back. Especially if you two are going at it rough, or you’re sucking him off, it’s obscene.

💚 Will praise you with that same sultry rasp, because that’s another thing he thinks is safely in the always-hot category.

💚 Such a good job baby, feels so good, etc. Can never go wrong.

💚 Loud to the point his voice cracks when he cums 😇

Elliott-

❤️ My hot take is that I think Elliott would say the filthiest things you’ve ever heard during sex.

❤️ HEAR ME OUT!!!

❤️ I just think that as a man who is incredibly well read he knows what’s hot. And he’s not afraid to say it, either.

❤️ Especially with some of those dime novels that are his guilty pleasure, he’s picked up a thing or two.

❤️ Of course it’s still in a very Elliott way, but he’s a dirty talk king.

❤️ He’ll be worshiping your body while he details everything he wants to do to you. How he’s going to mark you with hickies where everybody can see that you’re his, how hard he’s going to ravage you with his cock, how many times he’s going to make you cum, etc.

❤️ Matches it with equal praise and romantic lines, too. It’s all about balance, and he wants to fuck you like a beast while still reminding you that you’re precious to him.

❤️ Grunts and huffs and moans, but not a lot unless he’s right about to cum. Man’s got more important uses for his mouth!!

❤️ Kind of irrelevant, but I see him as the type to passionately fuck you against the door to his cabin or overtop his writing desk or deep into the mattress. It’s not often that the furniture isn’t creaking and knocking in time to his thrusts.

Alex-

🤎 Okay so another hot take. But I think Alex is secretly incredibly shy and romantic.

🤎 Empirical evidence includes: his heart events imply that he puts on the machismo front as a defense mechanism, and he was raised by the most lovey-dovey old people you’ve ever seen.

🤎 SO. I think he would be very sweet in the way he talks in bed.

🤎 Lots of softness and nerves, but he’s still kinda noisy.

🤎 Tries to muffle himself because he’s embarrassed about making too much noise, but he can’t help it.

🤎 He’ll be about to tell you how good you’re doing, how much he loves it, and his words will warp off into a whimper because it’s too much.

🤎 I feel very strongly that he is a whimperer. I’m sorry. It makes sense.

🤎 Especially with his insane physical endurance he ends up overstimulating himself because he can’t get enough.

🤎 Like he can go a third round, sure, but he’s overstimulated and his voice is cracking and his cheeks are bright pink with exertion.

🤎 Lowkey he’d love it though I mean let’s be real. Let’s be so real. He wants to come until he’s crying. And he will.

🤎 Please don’t come for me abt this it’s just my take.

Shane-

💙 The curse words. The curse words.

💙 Listen. This man is already somebody who swears a lot so in bed? He’s letting FLY.

💙 Fuck that’s so good, you’re so goddamn tight, holy shit that’s hot, et cetera.

💙 Not much for moans but he does grunt so like. Same difference?

💙 Like it’s not that he’s stifling himself he just grunts and groans and swears instead of moans

💙 No whimpering I’m afraid 😔

💙 But he makes UP in dirty talk good lord.

💙Since he’s not a mean person just prickly from his defenses he’s well practiced in being mean even when he’s not.

💙 So ladies gentlemen and those of us that know better, we’ve got the makings of the PERFECT mean dom

💙 Dirty little slut, you’re so fuckin’ pathetic for it, beg on your knees just for the privilege, I could Go On.

💙 Only like that if you want it of course, but like with his gravelly sex voice asking if you think you’ve earned the right to cum yet? Somebody take me AWAY.

💙 Cums with a bit of a yell.

Sam-

🩷 It’s been said before I know.

🩷 But I must also agree. Sam is the loudest in bed. Far and away.

🩷 Good LUCK getting him to shut up honestly, between his whines and whimpers and moans he’s either apologizing for his lack of control or thanking you profusely for letting him hit.

🩷 Because Sam genuinely can’t control himself when he’s fucking half his vocabulary consists of sorry. He wanted to do it slow and sweet, but fuck, you’re so hot and tight around his cock he’s pounding you instead and he’s really sorry but he just can’t help himself.

🩷 I don’t see him swearing much tbh, not unless he’s completely fuck drunk. If he’s not babbling some pseudo-polite good boy nonsense, he’s whining. Maybe the stray shit or fuck, but not to excess.

🩷 Also throws in a ton of compliments. You’re so hot, you feel so good, you sound so beautiful, and so on. I just see him as an open complimenter, and when his mental circuit board is on overload he’s unable to stop himself.

🩷 Gag this man. Do it. I dare you.

🩷 He’ll be moaning and whimpering and drooling all around the gag, his eyebrows drawn up and in, eyes pleading for you to let him moan properly.

🩷 The most pathetic man you’ve ever seen and all because he can’t whine for you. God somebody just take me away, lock me up.

Sebastian-

🖤 King of being amused by how turned on you are.

🖤 He’s chuckling, huffing, asking incredulous rhetorical questions like “yeah? Already?”

🖤 I could see him falling hard and fast, so he’s probably using his dry sense of humor to hide how fucking gone he already is.

🖤 Because emotional vulnerability isn’t his thing so it gives him some distance while still allowing him to enjoy how fucking hot and adorable everything you do is.

🖤 As far as his own sounds, though, he’s not moaning or whining a whole lot.

🖤 He does whisper a lot of swear words, and he’s HEAVY on the panting, as a consolation prize.

🖤 Dirty talk gets a little spicy with him just because he lives to tease. He’s not the heaviest dirty talker even on this list, but he can definitely turn up the heat.

🖤 Lowkey I can see him being a hand holder because he can’t help himself. He can only keep his affections at bay so much.

🖤 And I bring that up only because he’d lose his breath the moment your fingers twined with his and reward you with a soft, stuttering moan.

🖤 Definitely bites you to keep from making noise when he comes. He’d probably end up whining if he didn’t.

#stardew valley #sdv #writing #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic #ao3 #sdv headcanons #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv shane #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley shane #stardew valley Sam #sdv Alex #stardew valley Alex #stardew valley Harvey #stardew valley Elliott #bachelor headcannons #stardew valley imagines #n.sfw #n.sfw // #MDNI #asks

[sluttywoozi]

Enjoy The Masterpiece

Title from Fire by Seventeen HHU

Rating: M (18+ IM FR) | WC: ~2.1k

Summary: College boyfie!Mingyu wants you to sit on his face. He's literally begging here.

Warnings: not proof read, non explicit body image issues, wall sex, biting, fingering, face sitting, size kink, you’re both kinda crybabies, possessiveness at the end, lil bit of breeding kink, cream pie, prone bone, he wants to marry you, lmk if i forgot anything

Reader Notes: has vagina, WAP, implied plus size

AN: this fic feels really personal so pls be nice! and leave feedback im begging! lots of begging going on in this post!

“Baby, I’m literally begging you. Please sit on my face,” Mingyu pouts, lightly flexing in an attempt to build his case. You’re worried about something that hadn’t even occurred to him, something that seemed so ridiculous in his mind until it brought you to near tears.

You’re worried you’ll drown him, or smother him, or just be too much for him in general, apparently, and though it’s not a concern he’s ever had, it’s not something he can just dismiss. You feel very strongly about this, and he absolutely despises seeing you cry unless it’s from him making you cum too much, so he has to tread lightly. 

However, this is as light as he knows how to tread. Asking if he can gather you up in his arms and carry you over to the wall to fuck you against it. “If I can make you cum there, would you feel more comfortable about sitting on my face? I can show you I can hold you, baby, and that if I need to move you, I can.”

You contemplate for a second before your eyes journey from biceps to dick and your decision seems to be made. Nodding resolutely, you wrap your arms around his neck and he curls his hands under your thighs. He lifts you up into his chest and bounces you once to get you situated before lumbering over to the wall and bracing you against it.

Your panties are wet from the earlier hour spent making out and grinding, and all he has to do is grip them tight and pull them up to put pressure on your clit. He’s got you sitting on his knee, his muscle rippling between your legs, and he’s really considering making you make yourself cum on his thigh before he decides that this is a precarious situation not for testing.

He does the work for you, grasping your hips and bringing your clothed heat back and forth over his thigh until his boxer briefs are soaked with you. You’re making the prettiest noises, the sounds just falling from your mouth, and he wants to taste them, presses his open mouth to yours so he can swallow your moans and whines. 

His fingers slide between your thighs, dipping inside your underwear to glide through your folds and find your clit. He rolls it beneath his thumb as his fingertips seek your entrance, two delving deep and spreading inside you to prepare you for a third.

He’s going to fuck you after, if you want, so you need to be stretched out enough to take him. Three usually opens you up just enough for his cock to split you apart that little bit more, something the both of you love.

You’ve told him before that you like the sting, like the way you have to adjust to him. He was balls deep inside you at the time and your words made him throb, and your ensuing giggles nearly made him cum as your walls fluttered around him. 

They’re fluttering now and his groan sends his face into your neck, his teeth leaving little indents on whatever skin they can find. His tongue soothes you whenever you gasp, his lips traveling back up your throat to find yours as his fingers curl inside of you, your wetness seeping out to soak your panties. You always get so wet, you’re so fucking perfect for him, always, and fuck, he loves you, loves you, loves you. 

“I love you too, Gyu,” you nearly sob into his open mouth, and he realizes he’d said that out loud. He doesn’t care, you deserve to know, you should know how he feels about you. He also feels like he wants you to cum, right now, so he can perhaps maybe get you sitting on his face tonight. He won’t be upset or disappointed if you still don’t want to, but it’s been occupying his brain for long enough that he’s starting to feel a little wild with it. 

His thumb presses down hard on your clit, rubbing measured circles as three of his long fingers hook into your g-spot and pulse, squelching noises following each curl of his fingers. Your breath catches with every curl too, and he knows you’re so so so close. 

“Please cum, baby, I wanna feel you cum, please,” Mingyu begs, his voice shot and his cock dribbling precum. 

You listen, your body so attuned to him that that’s what it takes. You break apart on his fingers, wetness flooding his palm and your cries echoing around the room as you writhe in his arms. He holds you while he works you through it, his fingers never growing tired even as your pussy clenches them so fucking tightly. 

He loves how hard you cum for him, every fucking time. 

“Good, honey? Tired?” Mingyu whispers into your hair, wrapping his arms around you and carrying you back over to the bed. 

“So good, Gyu. I wan-wanna… I wanna sit on your face. Or I want to try it, at least,” you whisper back, resting your head on his chest probably so you can avoid his gaze. He allows it, near vibrating with joy that you’re willing to give it a go, and swiftly switches places with you so you’re on top of him. 

“Okay, so just scooch up-”

“I’m not scooching up, that's so embarrassing!”

“Well I doubt you wanna stand up and sit down on my face, so,” he draws the ‘o’ out, telling you without words that he can’t think of another option, when another way suddenly comes to him. 

“Alright, then you sit up on your knees, yeah, like that,” he waits for you to get into position, “And I’ll just slide down, like this,” his voice grows strained as he shuffles down the bed. 

Once he settles and checks in with you, he lets himself look at the view just inches from his face. Seeing you, breathing you in, feels so different like this. You’re so close and there’s so much of you, and you’re all he knows, all he can feel and smell and touch, and when he pulls you to sit on his tongue, all he can taste. It’s heavenly, the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and the only way it could get any better is if you could just relax. But, he won’t push you. He’s ecstatic this is happening at all and if you need to stay up on your knees to feel comfortable, he’ll just have to crane his neck a little bit more. 

Your panties are still in the way, he’d forgotten to ask you to take them off before rolling the two of you over, so he pushes them as far to the side as he can and licks right into you. The taste of you explodes on his tongue, so rich and decadent but light too, like fucking ambrosia or something, and Mingyu knows that if he died right here and now, he’d die the happiest man on the planet. 

With your legs straddling his head, you’re fully spread open, your glistening folds split apart to show your swollen clit and your slightly open entrance. He can’t resist sliding his tongue inside to get a taste at the source, his dick twitching against his stomach when he feels your walls squeeze around him. He knows he should get his thumb on your clit, focus on making you cum, but he wants to explore, get to know every little bit of you even better than he already does, and now is the perfect time to take his time. 

He shoves his tongue in deep, slowly fucking you with it and letting his groans rumble through you. You shiver on top of him and he feels it in his bones, feels it travel from head to toe, and he gets a sudden flash of what it would feel like to have you riding his face, triggering a moan from deep in his chest. This starts a delicious feedback cycle of Mingyu making sounds into you and you physically reacting to them, until he’s whimpering into your cunt nonstop and you’re grinding down on his tongue, just like he wanted. 

He doesn’t think you’re close but he knows you feel good, can tell by the wetness gushing into his mouth and the throbbing of your clit on his nose, and that’s enough for him to keep going as he wants. Your panties are starting to annoy him though, hindering his movements and constantly obstructing him from feeling you fully, so he detaches from you long enough to ask, “Can I rip them?” 

The tears in his voice make his words near incomprehensible but you know what he’s talking about, as always, and nod frantically, lifting up to give him some room to work. They’re flimsy, delicate enough that all it takes is his hands clenched in the sides and a sharp jerk before you’re fully naked before him. He lets the fabric fall to the bed, returning his hands to your hips and pulling you back down to where you belong. 

It’s so much better without your panties in the way, his tongue able to glide from cunt to clit as freely as he likes and his hands able to really squeeze into the meat of your hips like he loves. You give a little grind, slowly getting back into the rhythm you had pre-panty ripping, and he whines loudly in encouragement, bucking his own hips up into the air out of pure reflex.

He wants you so bad but he wants to feel you cum like this more, so he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly, waiting for you to squeal overhead before slipping three fingers back inside of you from behind. Prodding at your g-spot, he flicks his tongue over your clit from side to side as he sucks, and it proves to be enough, or maybe too much, for you. You buckle over him, surrounding him completely in you as you cum with a sharp whine.

The tensing of your walls around his fingers and the pulsing of your clit in his mouth are almost enough to tear his own orgasm from him, his free hand flying down to grip the base of his dick tight tight tight to stave it off. He’s never cum untouched before and though he wouldn’t mind trying it, he desperately wants to fuck you. 

He slowly slides out from under you, turning over and grasping your hips to help lower you onto the bed before laying down next to you and sweeping a hand up and down your back. You’re still face down and panting into the duvet so he gives you some time, waits until you lift your head and plop it back down facing him to speak. 

“How was it, baby? Did you like it?” Mingyu asks softly, digging his fingers into the knots he finds. 

“I loved, we can do that every night if you want, ten out of ten, great job,” you mumble, and he wonders if you’ll be too tired for him tonight. 

“Do you think maybe I could… cum inside you? I’m almost there, you wouldn’t have to do anything, I just wanna feel you.”

You perk up instantly, still obviously exhausted but more awake mentally than before, nodding and lifting your ass just enough for him to climb on top of you and slide inside. You feel better on his cock than his face, which he didn’t think was possible, but here he is, halfway inside and approximately four inches from blowing his load. He loves cumming inside of you, getting to be so close and leaving so much of himself with you, like he’s marking his territory or something.

He’s never worried about that with you, but sometimes the urge still comes through, the desire to make sure you and everyone else knows that you’re his, that your perfect body is his to fuck and your flawless mind is his to love. Even further, he wants everyone to know he’s yours. Wants your ring on his finger and your last name tacked onto his, wants it all, wants everything with you. 

That can wait until he’s not about to cum so deep inside you he hopes it sticks, though. 

Find my masterlist here

#mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu oneshot #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu fic #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #seventeen oneshot #kpop oneshots #✨emily writes✨ #mingyu x chubby reader #mingyu x chubby!reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Is that really JuanaFlippa?

Based on everything we know right now, the answer is "no"

What's more likely is that this is a Binary Monster pretending to be JuanaFlippa.

On a meta level, we know the admins of dead QSMP Eggs said they won't reprise their roles, but it's no fun to base lore analysis on meta alone, so here's a lore explanation for my reasoning:

First, and perhaps the most obvious explaination: JuanaFlippa never had cracks in her shell. She died long before the event where all the Eggs got kidnapped and were returned with cracked shells, yet this "JuanaFlippa" had cracks. What's interesting to note here is that during the Election Dinner when the fake Chayanne and Tallulah tried to trick Phil, he immediately pointed out that they didn't have cracks in their shell while the real Chayanne and Tallulah did. Perhaps the imposter was trying to overcompensate for their previous mistake by adding cracks to JuanaFlippa's shell not realizing that she never had them in the first place.

The reason why I specifically say this is a Binary Monster is because of the signs she left:

We've already seen the Binary Monster(s) try to replicate regular non-binary writing before when Etoiles encountered the fake Dapper and fake Tallulah (the book he showed Forever pictured below):

"My Dapper me na name" —> "My name is Dapper"

We know the Codes are constantly evolving and learning, so naturally their writing is getting better too (though we can clearly see 1s and 0s and other errors in "Flippa's" signs despite this).

But what's the Code's motivation in doing this?

In the past, we saw the Code(s) mimic Eggs because they wanted to attack and kill Presidential candidates— but that's a pretty recent development. Remember: before the elections, they were attacking the Eggs (though they also attacked Maximus and Cellbit at one point). The motivations of the Binary Monster(s) has always been unclear, and there's a lot of potential roads we could go down while theorizing, but in the interest of keeping this as relevant to the current discussion as possible, I'll focus on just one:

We have strong evidence to believe that the Binary Monster didn't want Islanders to stay on the island. It kept attacking the Eggs and leaving behind signs that said "Last Warning," strongly implying that it was trying to chase them away.

HOWEVER: shortly before the elections, QSMPGlobal tweeted an image of the Binary Monster above the Federation building.

[ Note: I thought I had this photo saved, but I didn't. I've been scrolling through their media tab for 5 minutes and Twitter crashed, so I'll have to add this photo later. It’s very late and I am so so tired. ]

This is the first time the Federation acknowledged the existence of the Binary Monster, and afterward, it said Islanders wouldn't need to worry about it attacking them. Why would the Federation suddenly acknowledge this physical embodiment of a mistake, an error, on their (supposedly) perfect Island?

The answer? The Federation took control of the Binary Monster. Why else would they suddenly deem it "not a threat"?

We could clearly see the Binary Monster deteriorating over time during the election arc. It looked shabbier and shabbier as time went on during the election arc. Something was clearly wrong with it (perhaps whatever the Federation was doing to control it hurt the Code in some way? Maybe the Federation experimented on it and made their own Binary Monsters?) But I digress-

The next time we see the Binary Monster after the Election ends is on Tazercraft's recent stream this week. Not only does it have a new upgrade (the strange OP sword Cellbit + Etoiles saw records of), it also ignores Richarlyson and opts to take a swing at Pac and Mike instead.

Now here's where things get really weird.

Earlier this week, we also saw the Binary Monster on Etoiles' stream. It didn't attack him, and instead leads him to a sharestone, which teleported him to a portal. He's given this image, then is kicked from the QSMP with the message: "The Nether Awaits."

So what does this have to do with JuanaFlippa?

...Well, that's the question, isn't it?

This is where things start getting murkier. I want to draw our attention to two specific things Flippa said before she left:

"It's not safe out there for me."

"Please keep this a secret."

The Binary Monster has already proven time and time again it's a force to be reckoned with. Why would it need to hide? Is it so that it can get closer to Charlie? (And if so, why? To mimic him? To get information?) I think a likelier answer is that the Binary Monster is trying to hide from the Federation itself.

Perhaps whatever the Federation did to shackle it— whether they experimented on it or copied it or whatever— left it damaged and weak. Or perhaps it isn't damaged at all; it just needs to lay low and needs someone else to do its dirty work for it (like sending Etoiles on a quest to find that strange shield in the Nether).

Unfortunately, a lot of this amounts to speculation because we simply don't have enough information yet. (It's also very very very late for me, so this analysis is purely driven by sleep-deprived madness and love for QSMP lore and JuanaFlippa).

Whatever's going on, we need to be very careful and think carefully about this being's motivations. Like Cellbit said: "Eyes always open."

Anyways, feel free to share your thoughts in the tags or comments or whatever, it's always fun hearing what people think of my analysis posts. You can find other analysis posts in my QSMP Info and QSMP talk tag.

#QSMP #JuanaFlippa #Slimecicle #Binary Monster #Code Monster #i talk #qsmp talk #QSMP Info #Anyways. Bedtime #I'm so frickin sick because of how sleep-deprived I am but I will NOT have the motivation to do an analysis writeup later #QSMP analysis

[housecow]

I’ve always been attracted to thick girls, but I also find bbw’s really hot. I’m not sure how’d I’d feel about being in a relationship with a bbw though. Like I really find certain one’s attractive, depending on face and personality (always) but for someone who’s always found fat girls hot it feels weird to also be on the fence about ever dating one. Is that weird?

i first want to say that this is going to come across as rude, and i am sorry about that!! but this is a topic i have experience with and its something i feel strongly about, lol.

yes, that is weird! i had an odd thing with someone like this, and as someone who qualifies as a bbw (i guess), it sucked. like a lot. i don’t understand the hesitance there—is it a societal thing? are you embarrassed to be be seen with someone that big? are you worried about what it implies?

honestly, and i apologize because this is rude, you should get over it. i find it incredibly insulting when someone is like this, personally. it shows a lack of respect for yourself and others. there is no difference between these people (thin/larger/fat girls) besides body size, for me this would be a problem and a major red flag.

if you’re on the fence, you shouldn’t even consider it. and maybe you should stop consuming bbw porn or whatever until you see them as people besides their body :))

#ugh #the wording of ‘…ever dating ONE’ got me #dude #figure it out #ask

[rabbitsrants]

SHINICHI KUDO IS TOO MUCH

guys, i'm currently working on the "reasons why shinran is one of the most brilliantly written romances of all time" masterlist and i came across this part of the manga:

chapter 44

AND I AM LAUGHING MY ASS OFF

shinichi is absolutely RUTHLESS in this chapter. correct me if i'm wrong, but this has to be his angriest moment throughout the entire series? i don't remember him acting this way in any other chapter 😂 like... shinichi is the type of guy who saves murderers from suicide, it's a well known fact that he values human life more than anything, HE'S A DEEPLY IDEALISTIC PERSON, YALL, THAT'S THE MAIN TRAIT THAT DEFINES HIM AS A PERSON and he straight up tells this dude (whos about to slit his own throat btw) TO GO AHEAD AND KILL HIMSELF

this is the most unhinged i've ever seen him 😂

now, let me be serious for a second. obviously, shinichi strongly suspected that the culprit wouldnt go through with it - he spent the entire case trying to cover up his murder after all, that's not something a suicidal person does. still though. the fact that shinichi was willing to risk it says so much about his love for ran. cause that's what his rant is about. the culprit tried to kill ran on multiple occasions and almost succeeded a couple of times. if there's one thing that shinichi can not handle, it's ran being in danger. he'll lose his composure every single time and he will lash out, even at innocent people who are just trying to help:

chapter 640

this man is so devoted to ran, it hurts.

that's why im so shocked everytime the fandom implies that ran is an irrelevant character who doesnt contribute anything to the story. if (for whatever reason) ran stopped being in the picture, the story would end right then and there.

people seem to forget that shinichi has prioritized ran over cases on numerous occasions (that aspect of their relationship deserves its own post tbh, i'll hopefully get to it in the future), he completely loses his mind everytime there's even the slightest risk that she might get hurt and this case right here? chapter 44? that's the wildest shit shinichi has ever said 😂 the part about justice was spot on and very in character for him, but the rest? it was brutal... and very unlike him. which is shocking, considering that ran was completely unharmed. do me a favor and let that sink in: the end of chapter 44 was merely his reaction to the thought of losing ran - he completely lost his shit. now, if ran actually stopped being in his life? shinichi wouldn't just lose his temper, he'd lose himself.

for the record, this isnt me implying that he would go rogue or whatever. the reason why shinichi is so angry in chapter 44 is because ran is okay and tangible, so he still has something to lose. but if she was gone? if she stopped being his life? he wouldn't be angry, he'd be inconsolable. if the level of anger displayed in chapter 44 and 640 is what we get when shinichi simply worries about ran's safety, just imagine the level of heartbreak that we would witness if he genuinely lost her.

shinichi loves and needs ran so much, it's unfathomable for most people, including me. everytime i think i cracked the case and finally figured out how much shinichi loves ran, he proves me wrong. and while i think that most cold cases are a tragedy, i think im coming to terms with leaving this one unresolved. after all, love is the most mysterious force in the universe. and always will be.

visit the shinran library for more

#ran's not the only person who's difficult to deduce #shinran is too powerful #i love them #shinran #shinichi kudo #ran mouri #detective conan #case closed #dcmk #ship analysis

[cissyenthusiast010155]

19, 35, and 48 please? I don’t know if I can choose multiple prompts, so hopefully that’s okay (if not, just 19 please). I’m thinking Larissa x reader. Maybe they’ve been together for a little while, but they haven’t really ventured into a more kinky/bdsm side of their relationship yet even though they’ve discussed it. Larissa’s worried about being more dominant because she’s afraid she’ll make R uncomfortable, even though R has repeatedly said she won’t be uncomfortable. Anyway, R starts teasing Larissa and trying to bait her into dominating the absolute fuck out of her. Like, R will say things like “I get it, maybe it’s just too hard for you. Topping can be difficult, it requires a certain type of person”. Stuff like that. R’s a bit of a switch so she has experience with both sides, which makes it even more annoying for Larissa. Finally she snaps, and smut ensues in Larissa’s office. R makes Larissa work for it though, not immediately just going submissive (she keeps talking back, etc). Larissa does put her in her place though. Lots and lots of degradation please (and then Larissa makes fun of reader for getting off on being degraded). Maybe instead of a Mommy/Mistress kink, R calls Larissa Miss Weems or Principal Weems. Anyway, sorry, this is so long. Lots of degradation, maybe bondage if you feel like it, Larissa definitely being rougher with Reader. Really, add whatever kinks you want, I really like your writing so you can’t really go wrong.

If you don’t want to write this, or you’re not comfortable with it, please don’t worry about it!! ❤️

Put You in Your Place ~Dom!Larissa Weems xFem Switch!Brat!Reader

Summary— Read anon request. Anon Response— Hi hi anon! I would love to write this!! Thank you for your request. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️♥️

Mommy… Master List

Request & Prompt-List

#19. “I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…”

#35. “Fuck. You did not just do that.”

#48. “Watch your mouth...”

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fingering, light oral sex, implied smut, teasing, taunting, dom/sub interactions, degradation, degradation kink, bratting, pussy slapping, spanking, clit stimulation, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Hey I get it, maybe it’s just too hard for you. Topping can be difficult, it requires a certain type of person…” you teased Larissa.

Your words made Larissa look up from the book she was reading and give you a glare.

She had been tolerating these teasing comments from you ever since you two had talked about wanting to spice up your sex lives, ever since Larissa had admitted to wanting to dominate you. But she was nervous and cautious. Larissa didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I’m a switch you know, I understand, I have some experience on both sides. Maybe you’re just not a top…” you hummed tauntingly.

Larissa had to admit, your commments were starting to get under her skin. You being a switch and naturally bratty didn’t help. No, it only made her more annoyed and close to snapping. But she kept her impulses to herself for now.

What Larissa really wanted was to drag you to her lap and make you behave… And that was only the beginning of what she wanted to do to you…

“Watch your mouth...” was all Larissa said in a strained tone of annoyance.

You smirked. It was working.

“You know you told me that you wanted to be more dominant, ‘Rissa, so why not just bend me over your desk…?” You ignored the woman’s warning, continuing your taunting.

Larissa strongly resisted the urge to roll her eyes at you or to groan. Instead she sighed deeply.

“But of course I wouldn’t make it easy for you. I mean, could you even top me…?”

She turned the page in her book, her hold on the book tightening in annoyance and frustration.

You weren’t going to let this go. You wanted to push Larissa as far as she could go. You wanted her to snap and dominate you. Fuck you silly.

You were close to getting your wish…

“Behave or I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…” Larissa gritted out.

You wiggled teasingly in your seat.

“I’d like to see you try…”

At this, Larissa growled. Full on growled. You had never heard sounds like that come from the poised woman. It sent sparks of electricity straight to your core.

But you weren’t giving up that easily. You stood up from your seat and sauntered over to where Larissa was sitting at her desk. You then sat down in her lap, straddling her left thigh. You then rolled your hips, letting out a leud groan in the woman’s ear. Larissa watched your every move intently. You rolled your hips a second time, letting out another leud groan.

“Fuck.” Larissa breathed out slowly, “You did not just do that.”

You bit your lip and grinned.

“I did… What are you gonna do about it…?” You taunted the woman.

Larissa growled again. Louder and lower this time. Something about it wiped the grin right off your face. Maybe you had bitten off more than you could chew…

Before you could do anything else, Larissa had lifted you by the scruff of your neck with ease, she’d spun you around, and had slammed you over the desk, bending over for her. Her hand held you firmly against the desk, your tits and faced squished.

Your heart raced and your breathing was off. You shook your ass at the woman in a teasing manner. You expected her to smack it as punishment, but she didn’t.

Instead you only felt her one hand on your back firmly. And then her other hand opening your legs wide. You heard a little shuffling off feet, before a sudden warmth against your thigh. You squirmed as Larissa licked a trail of her warmth up your inner thigh.

“Stay still.” She growled, stopping for a moment to command you, before continuing your torture.

You started to sweat. As she held you dimly against her desk, her tongue began to slowly unravel you. But again, you wouldn't give in that easy.

"I expect an answer when I give you an order…" she warily growled.

"Yes mommy…" you teasingly replied.

You gasped and cried out as Larissa hit your clothed cunt with her hand with a sharp smack.

She hit your pussy at least ten more times, leaving you shaking and fighting the desperate urge to squirm.

"It's Principal Weems or Miss Weems to you…" Larissa lustfully growled.

“Yes Miss Weems…” you groaned in a sing-song tone.

“Unless I ask you something, you are to stay silent and motionless. Understand?”

“Mhmmmm, whatever you say, Miss Weems…” you said while rolling your eyes.

She smacked your cunt five more times. This all was proving extra difficult as her tongue snaked its way to your core.

Eventually, it got to your clothed clit. Larissa’s cold fingers hooked your underwear aside with ease, before her hot mouth fully encaptured your clit and sucked.

“AhhhHhhhhHhhH—!!” You whimpered.

But your sound was met with Larissa’s mouth quickly retracting. Then followed by another hard smack to your cunt.

You bit your lip to stifle the whimper you were itching to let out. The smacks were starting to add up.

“Fuck you!!” You spat.

Larissa chuckled. She removed your pants from your body with ease. Then she smacked your ass. And hard. You were sure it would leave a mark.

“Say it again and I won’t stop until you’re crying…” Larissa growled darkly.

You couldn’t help yourself, instinctively sticking your ass high up in the air for the woman. Larissa chuckled and quirked her eyebrow.

“Oh do you like the idea of that…? You like to be spanked?” She taunted.

You nodded desperately.

“Love it Miss Weems…!!”

So she smacked your ass again. You squirmed and whimpered lightly.

“Silence, slut.”

You gasped at her choice pet name. And Larissa noticed. She leaned forward, her mouth right by the shell of your ear.

“I’m going to spank you like the little whore you are, and you are not going to make a sound… Right, pretty slut?”

You nodded.

“Yes Miss Weems…” you whimpered.

Larissa grinned at your words. And she proceeded to smack your ass raw. She truly didn’t stop until you were crying and begging for her to stop. And what she said while she spanked you, it made you the most wet that you’d ever been. You’d never heard such degrading speech.

Eventually, Larissa finally relented and got back on her knees. Latching her mouth onto your clit once more. Her free hands fingers teased your entrance too. Before giving in and giving you what you so desperately wanted, Larissa couldn’t resist the urge to fuck with you some more. Her fingers continued to tease your clit and entrance as she stood back up and placed her mouth by your ear.

“You’re such a desperately wet, slut… Need to be fucked and put in your place so badly… don’t you…?” Larissa taunted with a growl at the end.

“Mhmmmmm, miss weems p-please need it so bad…!” You whimpered desperately.

Your body was shaking and tear stains were across your face. You were sweating and in pure, tortuous bliss.

“You like it when I call you a slut, huh…? Like it when I call you out for being the whore you know you are…?”

You nodded vigorously, your cunt fluttering desperately around nothing.

“Tell me what you want, slut.” Larissa rasped in your ear.

“W-want to be full, stuffed all the way, Miss Weems… Please fill me up!! I’m your slut, stuff me full…!!” You begged the woman.

“Hmmmm… You’ve earned one finger, stupid slut…” Larissa hummed, roughly thrusting one finger inside you.

You bit your lip hard to contain the whimper that wanted to escape. And while her one finger was already heaven, you needed one stuffed full. You needed more. And she knew it.

“What’s the problem little whore…? Not enough for your massive cunt…?”

You nodded harshly with tears forming once more.

“More MORE please God more Miss Weems!!”

Your hands were now desperately fisting the sheets of the bed for some semblance of control and desperation.

“Beg, little slut… Beg me.”

You would have kept fighting the woman… if it wasn’t so easy to just give in… so you did. You crumbled. And gave the woman what she wanted… You submitted and begged.

Larissa Weems Masterlist

#Larissa weems #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x reader #wednesday #wednesday smut #wednesday netflix #cissyenthusiast010155 answers

[libra-kirishima]

Oh my goodness I just read your Iida family HC and my heart erupted!!! I'd love to see what you come up with for Kirishima or Bakugou!

I literally got this request two years ago I am so sorry.

But bestie I am so glad you asked because I have so many thoughts. I think about them a lot.

Family Headcanons for Kirishima + Bakugou

! implied fem reader !

Kirishima Eijirou

Kirishima definitely has at least one older sister. Probably a very close relationship with his mom as well. The women in his life played such a huge role in making him the person that he is today.

Having said that, I can only see Kirishima as a girl dad.

He radiates huge "girl dad" energy. And he's so proud about it too. Having girls is his favorite thing ever.

I can see you and him with three girls, each of them are 2 or 3 years apart, and they all have red eyes and black hair.

Not a single one of your daughters looks like you, I'm sorry. He insists that they all have your smile, though.

He's super involved from the minute you tell him you're pregnant. Taking you to every doctor's appointment, helping you with whatever you need, designing the nursery.

Once he found out he was having a girl, he made you sit down with him every night while he learned how to do your hair. It was so important to him for him to know how to comb and style hair so he could help get them ready for school in the future.

One aspect of fatherhood he's surprisingly hands-off about is picking a name. He wants you to do it and he's completely happy with whatever you pick.

A name is just not that important to him. Whatever you want your girl's names to be will be special to him. Not because he carefully chose a name with a special meaning, but because it's his daughter's name and she is special to him.

Although his disinterest in helping you pick a name definitely started a fight between the two of you when you were pregnant with your first, because it felt like he didn't care enough to help you pick.

He's super involved after the kids are born too.

Strongly encourages them to get into something physical. Ballet, soccer, gymnastics, baseball, volleyball. He doesn't care. He'll let them do anything that they want so long as it gets them moving.

And he goes to every performance and every game. He's in the front row of every school play with a bouquet of roses in his hands. He's your girls' biggest cheerleader.

Your girls would tell him everything too. He's surprisingly good at keeping up with stories of teenage girl drama and gives them his full attention any time there's an update.

I can see Kirishima with a TV Sitcom ass family that other kids in the neighborhood would come to for advice or a safe space to hang out.

Kirishima cries at everything. Cried when he learned you were pregnant. Cried when each one of your daughters was born. He cries at birthdays, at graduations, at holidays, at performances, at major milestones.

Definitely calls his daughters "manly" as a compliment.

It's really important to him that his kids get along with each other and always have each other's backs. Your kids aren't allowed to fight in your house. If they do start fighting he takes them aside and makes them work it out.

Bakugou Katsuki

When he was a teenager he had a complicated relationship with his parents, specifically with his mom. But as he gets older he starts to understand them more and they get along better.

His parents never really told him they were proud of him or praised him because Mitsuki was worried it would go to his head.

He also felt like his parents were embarrassed by him because of the way he acted. (They were)

When you met him, he insisted that he never wanted kids.

It took him a long time but he eventually changed his mind. He had a lot of growing and changing to do before thinking about starting a family.

A huge part of his hesitation came from the difficult task of contending with his past. He was cruel and abusive as a kid and became so worried about his kid turning out like him at that age. And if they did, he wouldn't know what to do to stop it, just like his parents didn't with him.

A lot of his parenting is modeled after his parents. Not only what they did right, but what he thinks they did wrong as well. He wants to learn from his parents' mistakes and do better than they did.

Bakugou may not be the best dad but he'll always stand by his kid and support them them regardless of the circumstance.

He's never been very articulate or very in-touch with his emotions. He struggles to tell his loved ones that he loves them, your kid included. Because of this, he makes sure to show them that he loves them.

When you tell him you're pregnant, he doesn't really react. He doesn't even stop watching the news to look you in the eye. You're worried that he doesn't care but internally he's so happy. He doesn't say so. Doesn't even smile. His way of reassuring you that he wants this is by asking you what you want the nursery to look like, and getting to work moving all the furniture out of the guest room to turn it into the baby's room as soon as he wakes up the next day.

He doesn't care about the sex of the baby. He just wants it to be happy and healthy.

Very involved in the process of picking a name, though.

He suggests a bunch of names that he thinks sound strong and powerful but are actually really stupid.

I also see Bakugou with a little girl. Just one, though.

He feels bad that he can't be more involved in his kid's life because of his job, so he only wants one child. He thinks he'll do his best as a parent when all of his free time can be devoted to her.

He also spoils her rotten and justifies it because she's his only kid.

Any fear that he has about his kid being mean like he was completely disappears when he holds her in his arms for the first time and sees that she has kind eyes just like yours.

Having a kid forces him to become a lot more level-headed. He refuses to argue with his baby girl like he used to argue with his mom, no matter how much she tries to provoke him. As much as he loves his mom, the constant push and pull between them is not an aspect of her parenting he wants to carry over.

I feel like he's great when your kid is still a kid, but really struggles with the teenage years. No matter how many times you tell him it's normal, he doesn't understand why she doesn't tell him everything anymore or why she thinks she's too cool to spend time with him.

The type of parent to yell at your daughter to get out of her room and go outside.

Your daughter wants to be a hero just like her daddy. I think a lot of the strain that was put in the relationship when she was a teenager is repaired when she becomes an adult and they start working together.

Bakugou is her favorite parent and neither of you understand why.

#unrelated headcanon but i feel like if you asked kirishima if he thought you were pretty he would respond with #''of course! why? are the other girls making you feel bad?'' bc the girls in his younger sister's class would make her feel bad abt herself #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou

[yourheart-inmyhands]

HIIIII I LOVE YOUR POSTS SO MUCH IF YOU DIDNT NOTICED I WAS ONE OF YOUR FOLLOWERS WHO LIKE YOUR POSTS THE EARLIEST ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT AND AMAZING DAY I HOPE YOU FEEL HAPPY AND JOYFULL! STAY SAFE :DDDD

Oh and btw i love love LOVED the last post you made :3 wasnt able to like it early since i was at school but can i please req a Zoro reader with a yan Yelan , Beidou , Alhaitham (all hail the ham XD) and Neuvillete (idk how to spell his name😒🙄) ANYWAYS PLEASE TAKE YOUR TIME REMEMBER TO EAT REST AND DRINK WATER <<<333

Plus points if reader is in luffys pirate crew , has 3 swords and stronger than Beidou and Yelan 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

YOUR THE BEST POOKS EHEHHEHEHE<<<<333 :D :3

(stan chuu 🥰🥰🥰😱😱😱)

LOVE YOU POOKS 🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍

i didn't wanna answer this one cause it's so cute and i wanted to keep it in my inbox foreverrrrr but i really appreciate the compliments ;v; <33 also i won't lie, Zoro is not one of my favorites from One Piece (i like greasy/deranged men) but i love his character, i was also binging some episodes while writing this and also this is pre-timeskip zoro cause that's where i'm at currently and brainrot be real but i hope you enjoy :D <3

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, mentions of violence, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Yelan would be stressed out, not only do you wield three swords and seem to always get yourself in trouble, but you’re always getting lost. She’s at least glad that you can take care of yourself if the need arises but your obsession with being Teyvat’s Greatest Swordsman is a little out of control. She prefers that you don’t go out without her because she knows you’ll get lost, but if you should otherwise she’ll be sure to send out someone to follow you, keeping her informed of your location and every move.

Yelan smiled to herself as you trained in the backyard. While your bizarre workout routine often had her a bit worried, she admired your dedication to her work. There was a lot about you she loved, but your dedication to your goals was what drew her in, reminding her of herself sometimes. She had to keep you on a tight leash though, your lack of direction often leaving you in places you shouldn’t end up in. She never minded though, it was just another of your adorable quirks, something she found keeping her on her toes. Yelan loved you and all your strange, unique quirks. 

Yandere!Beidou would find you very admirable, chasing so strongly after your ambitions as she had. While killing a Leviathan and becoming Teyvat’s Greatest Swordsman are two different life goals, she thinks you're an amazing individual for chasing your dreams so wholeheartedly.

Beidou smiled down at you from the top deck, watching as you polished your blades. While she didn’t understand the need for three swords, she knew you enjoyed it and so she never questioned it. She was grateful you didn’t put up a fight when it came to traveling on the Crux with her, not that you ever seemed to know where they were headed. It just made it easier for her to keep an eye on you, with your habit of wandering off and getting lost just to end up in a fight that she later patches you up from. She loved you and all your quirks but sometimes she wondered how you came to be this way, it wasn’t something you seemed keen to talk about.

Yandere!Alhaitham would find a beloved like this both a blessing and a curse. He loves your passion for swordfighting, often fighting with you for a bit of practice. While you certainly outmatch him with just one sword alone, he uses his intellect to spar with you, learning your moves and putting you into positions where you have to adapt and overcome. He finds the exercise to be an enjoyable break from his work, allowing him to keep his physical skills as sharp as his mental ones. He refuses to let you go anywhere by himself though, worried you’ll get lost and run into trouble, again.

Alhaitham smirked as he blocked another attack from you, having memorized every attack you’ve ever used against him. It was times like this that he enjoyed most with you, a proper challenge between brains and brawn. While your workout routine was intense, his mind was equally as polished, leaving the duels between the two of you relatively intense. On afternoons where you weren’t dueling, it was common to go into town, with Alhaitham usually picking up books or other things at stores while dragging you along with him. Even if he knew you were going to nap the whole time he was gone, he still didn’t trust you to not fight something or get lost while he was gone. So instead he took you to every store with him, keeping a tight watch over you and oftentimes tying a ribbon gently around your wrists that connected to his belt.

Yandere!Neuvillette has no choice but to keep you locked up inside while he’s gone simply because he knows otherwise you’ll get lost and he’ll be seeing you in the courtroom for yet another fight you got into. He doesn’t mind it though, knowing that at home you only do a few things, train, polish your swords, and nap. And while he admires your dream to be Teyvat’s Greatest Swordsman, he thinks you should settle for the strength you currently possess and simply stay here in Fontaine with him.

Unlocking the door and stepping in after a long day in court, Neuvillette isn’t surprised to see you napping in the livingroom. He will admit that the first few times he saw you napping, simply sitting on the floor up against a wall with all three swords nearby, he thought it was strange, insisting that you sleep in the bedroom or at least on the couch. Now though, he understands that it’s simply the way you are, quietly approaching and smirking as your eyes flicker open, looking up at the man. “Your senses are as sharp as ever I see.” Neuvillette offers you a hand, gently pulling you to your feet as you stretch, asking about his day. He enjoys the quiet life he has and he prefers to try and force you to comply than let you roam free, after all he’s doing this for the betterment of society. You’re simply too dangerous.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #yelan x reader #yelan x male reader #yandere yelan x reader #yandere yelan x male reader #beidou x reader #beidou x male reader #yandere beidou x reader #yandere beidou x male reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x male reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham x male reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x male reader #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x male reader #yandere genshin #yandere yelan #yandere beidou #yandere alhaitham #yandere neuvillette

[moonbaby26]

Title: Abduction

(Chapter 9 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Sir Crocodile

Chapter Warnings: language, violence, blood, murder (not main characters), toxic/controlling relationships, reader’s implied past abuse

Chapter Synopsis: You chose to interfere and save the life of someone who had nothing to do with you. But like plucking one strand of a spider’s web to call the predator to its prey, an irreversible chain reaction has now started. Doflamingo is goaded by his own past as well, forcing him to refuse even your temporary release from him this time.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9

——————————

—————————— 

At least you hadn’t had to wonder long on if you’d misjudged the strangers’ intentions with the girl. Though if you hadn’t been so sure, your own body wouldn’t have reacted near as strongly as it had. 

The look in that girl’s eyes was the same fear you’d seen on the faces of girls and boys just like yourself so many times. That last glance before they’d be pulled away into rooms with strange men, or onto ships with chains then around their wrists and ankles.

You’d been a rare survivor of that kind of childhood. And just like in Sabaody with the little merboy, you could never walk away once that realization of another child’s fear hit you.

And of course, all your intent was so clear in your own body language as well. Even in a sleek and beautiful dress you never would have chosen. Even in the mask, the heels, and the expensive jewelry you now wore, you were right back to being a fighter.

So the very moment you’d slid in front of that group to block their path and announced yourself as a marine captain with questions for them, they had also not hesitated in the slightest to deal with you.

But the flash of gunmetal and blades all at once from beneath so many equally expensive clothes also unlocked your last restraints.

Because they weren’t World Government contractors then. Even Cipher Pol agents would have just told you to stand down and mind your own business once knowing you were a marine.

These strangers willingness to kill a marine officer without you so much as laying a hand on them first made the situation more than clear. 

They were either pirates or some kind of mercenaries then, and everything was completely fair game as the ballroom erupted into the echoes of gunfire and screams.

It actually helped you by the way they aimed only for your chest as well. You didn’t have to worry about bystanders being grazed then and could focus your armament as strong as able in that one place to catch those first shots.

Not that it didn’t hurt immensely though. The force from the bullets spread out like miniature shockwaves through your rib cage and organs regardless.

You missed the freedom of movement of your normal skirt and the weight of your usual boots too. But you had to improvise, working as fast as you could with no weapon but your hands and feet as you tried for one or two hit KO’s against them.

The sooner you could down each opponent, the less chance of additional hostages being taken or a stray bullet burying itself into one of the other nobles.

Tables were crashing over, glassware shattering, and floors cracking as you all chased one another around. Six of them versus one of you.

But you still felt like a dog on a short chain, moving in a tight circle to still keep yourself between them and the girl all the while.

Besides their weapons, you were just lucky at how weak they really were. But it did take so much haki to fully stop those bullets every time. A resource that was absolutely not limitless to you, as you still counted the enemies down as they fell one after another to your hardest hits.

By the time only one of the attackers was still standing, it wasn’t a coincidence that he’d been the last one up. He was stronger than the others you realized, and he hadn’t been hiding behind a gun. He had a sword that’d come from within his long coat. 

All this entire battle had transpired in just moments though. From the time the first shot rang out to the time it was just you and him as you understood that his mission had changed.

He was going to strike the girl down, call this transport botched, and that be the end of it you were sure. And he would absolutely cut you down to get to her.

You’d been an idiot to leave your rope dart behind with your things at the villa. Weapons had been checked for at the doors here as they weren’t allowed. But obviously those rules could be skirted as he came for you with that long blade.

The first strike you did block anyway. His sword contacting your forearm as the girl trembled in shock behind you. But with the way it still did sting just barely through your armament coating, you already knew how in trouble you really were. That hit had actually kissed your real flesh.

Your coating was quickly thinning. You’d used too much, too fast in the speed of this incident.

And this man actually knew how to use a sword. Or maybe he was a fruit user. Something already felt off in your arm then as you still had no choice but to let the next swing of the weapon come. If you had truly dodged it, the girl would have been struck instead.

As it was, the blade missed your waist by only the thickness of your dress’s fabric that time. Not breaking your skin, but tearing a large swipe into the material as you’d backed into the girl as her shield. 

On the resulting downswing, that falling sword did not miss your leg however.

But that was also the one chance you’d seen for your opening for a counter strike. Even as you felt the searing pain as he did break through your armament over your thigh, you’d still punched as hard as you could while his sword was down. The last bits of your haki diverted into your fist to make it count.

You felt your attacker’s nose break as he went flying backwards. The bloody sword along with him as you immediately fell to one knee while your leg went completely numb.

“No!” The girl was sobbing aloud at last then. You felt her pulling at your dress as if to catch you. But she’d fallen down too of course, and was then crawling to come around you.

She must have thought he’d fully succeeded in amputating your leg. But that leg was still there as you were already trying to put pressure on the massive gash atop your thigh. The blood was flowing out readily, so warm against your hands.

But she would have been killed if you hadn’t done exactly this.

You realized she knew that too as she desperately started to try and tear pieces from her own dress. “Please…I can make a tourniquet. I’m so…I’m so sorry.” Her face was absolutely contorted in fear, grief, and guilt as you watched her in a bit of surprise.

For her age, that girl now doing anything other than just sitting there in continued tears and shock was unusual. She was actually trying to help.

But your heart was racing yourself. You realized you couldn’t feel your arm any longer either even though it had only been nicked. Everywhere that sword had broken the skin had gone fully unresponsive now. It wasn’t normal. But you needed to concentrate on the blood loss first. You didn’t think it’d gotten into any artery, but if you couldn’t close the wound… 

As you were thinking all of this, still trying to slow the bleeding with both your hands and the makeshift bindings from both your dress and the girl’s, you saw her eyes widen again as she looked back up from your wound.

The sound of footsteps crunching over broken glass behind you had you immediately trying to stand and turn in defense. Who had you missed? As if you could even fight one on one now though.

You couldn’t even stand to your own surprise, body so uncooperative as the girl got between you and those footfalls instead.

“Leave her alone! Please! Just take me! Don’t hurt anyone else! I won’t run again!” She was begging as she tried to hold her arms out as if that alone could shield you.

You would have used your still working arm to grab and throw her honestly. She was thin and light enough. You would have yelled at her to go for one of the exits. But as you looked over your shoulder to see what was coming, your resolve wavered.

Every other bystander had fled in the chaos. Doflamingo alone now stalked across that field of broken glass, looming with his hands in his pockets as you first saw the deep scowl across his face.

Your own mind did not react with any relief to that aura which preceded him. You understood the girl’s fear innately. Everything in that man’s body language now spoke of danger, not rescue.

So much so in fact, that you nearly threw her anyway. 

But there wasn’t enough time. You grabbed the girl and pulled her back behind you instead as she yelped. Still at least keeping yourself between her and the warlord before that man’s long legs brought him to stand easily before you again.

The sheer contempt in his expression only felt like the pirate from years before though. The same one you’d once watched from binoculars on Tsuru’s ship as he’d slit the throats of rival pirates with one swipe of his strings before you could reach them. 

You were absolutely at his mercy.

“And what was your plan after all of this?” His cold voice finally asked as you still shielded the girl.

“Doffy…” The word left your mouth before you had even bid it. As if he had physically drawn it out of you while your heart still pounded.

The feeling was indescribable. Fear, but something else too. You knowing full well what the sight of blood did to him, but trying to call him in to you all the same, to wake him up. You had no one else that could help you now. The only one who could save you from him…was him.

You saw that resulting twitch of his mouth at the sound of your plea too. His involuntary response to your own voice.

And suddenly he was crouched down right in front of you even with a then emerging sneer.

The girl gripped to you harder in her surprise, still behind you as Doflamingo roughly pulled the scraps of fabric away that you and she had tried unsuccessfully to put over your wound.

Your blood smeared thick across his hand as his fingers moved across the deep gash. But you could feel none of it, just watching as his strings emerged. 

His movements were so precise, fingers edging in a criss cross pattern to pull the wound slowly back together with those same strings. 

And once it was closed, he used both hands to surprisingly gently reposition your leg. Making the limb extend and raise, circling his hand above and below your thigh as more strings laid down around it. In the same texture as the softest cotton bandaging actually as your good arm moved to touch it lightly with your hand in curiosity once he was done. 

He stared at you afterward and you could still feel that tension radiating from him. But it was gradually changing.

“You’ll really throw your body away for any brat in need won’t you?” He asked, with his face so close to yours again. 

And you felt like he was either going to bite you or kiss you in that next moment as he remained so conflicted, confused even.

But with the way his mouth still shifted as he tried to choose between the two, you saw even one more emotion. Something you hadn’t noticed before.

And you were sure you must be misreading him. 

Because he couldn’t. He didn’t. Not for you at least. Warlords didn’t show weakness that way. Pirates didn’t even care. And a true monster would never feel fear or panic. Not just for watching a nothing like you be cut down right in front of them anyway.  

Was he actually shaken? Even the slightest afraid?

His hand was still so protectively grasped to your leg after making that bandage. Even as you did close that last gap for him on your own instinct, kissing him quickly before that complicated feeling he was trying to understand could be buried with further violence.

And that poor little girl must be so confused herself. Maybe she’d even regret being rescued by such a mess of a human being like you. 

Doflamingo didn’t break the kiss once started either, even as you all heard more people coming. He actually only leaned in further, capturing you by the back of the head to press you in tighter to his mouth as the new voices finally came.

“Princess Vivi!” They shouted. “Oh thank fate, she’s here! Tell the king! She’s alive! Princess!”

Royal guards were running in one after another as you and the pirate finally ended that intimacy to look towards the commotion. But he didn’t let you go fully, with his hand still on your thigh. Nor did he stand.

He was absolutely still looking defensive, staying close as the guards surrounded you all.

But the girl did walk forward, quick to yell back to them. All those fresh tears were still wet on her face, even if they were now those of relief. “Stand down! This marine saved me! It’s alright. Everything is all right!”

And you did see the guards lowering their weapons immediately at her words. But in that distraction, apparently your most recent victim had been playing possum all the while.

You heard the additional sound as a few guards fell, the swordsman that had nearly taken your leg then up and muscling past them. But only with the intent to flee, quickly disappearing through the doors to the outside before any other could stop him.

At that, Doflamingo did growl and immediately stood to follow. Which you were still surprised by that intense of a response from him. They hadn’t done anything to him directly after all. And he certainly didn’t care about any random princess.

But again, you saw that strange moment of hesitation in him. The reflex to chase new prey so strong for him. Yet he glanced back at you, still seated there on the floor with those stains of blood around you. And you visibly saw as he changed his mind, tension shifting in his shoulders as he raised his hand instead.

It was the bloody hand that had tended to your wound.

Strings flew out from those red fingertips as the guards looked to him in renewed concern. But those strings only coiled tightly, falling to the ground. They formed feet, then legs, a torso, and quickly an entire copy of the warlord himself as he unleashed it with an all new scowl and the hiss of the words, “Black knight.”

You had never seen the creation of one of his string clones. Amazed how truly you could not tell the visual difference as the clone took on Doflamingo’s same current expression, leaping right over the stunned guards and disappearing out of the ballroom on the same path as the escaping stranger.

——————————

The agent had hidden themselves in a nondescript alleyway. Pleading in the dark to the one on the other end of that transponder snail as blood still ran from his broken nose.

“You were supposed to kill the girl immediately if she could not be transferred to the harbor. But I needed her dead by the end of all of this regardless.” That heartless voice responded coldly once more.

Followed by the sheer desperation from the subordinate, tone both nasally and muffled by his still bleeding face. “We tried, boss! I don’t even understand. The princess wasn’t supposed to have any other bodyguards. It was some bitch, I don’t know. She said she was a marine. But we had the girl. We took out the princess’s attendants just like you said to and took her. I paralyzed them with my power. It was all six of us. That should have been plenty, but-“

“You all couldn’t shoot or cut down even one marine after that?”

“I only got two hits on her with my paralyze cut. She fell, but she wasn’t alone either. Some tall ass guy showed up.”

“Then you should have finished the job. You said your devil fruit never fails.”

“But boss, really…I mean, They shot her so many times. It did nothing! It was like haki or some shit. What was I supposed to do?”

“You keep shooting and cutting, you fool! No marine short of an admiral can keep up armament forever. It would have broken, and she would have died. But now the princess will be under much heavier guard going forward. Your incompetence has cost me dearly today. It won’t be happening again.”

“No! Boss, please!”

“I’ll be sending other agents to clean this up. Run if you wish like those before you. It will be pointless. Consider your contract terminated.”

But a new voice had joined in just as suddenly before the call could disconnect. “Oh, I’ll save you both the time and effort.”

“Boss! It’s the tall guy, the one from-”

The sound of a person being sliced into pieces in mid sentence was certainly a distinct one. Followed by the briefest silence as Sir Crocodile’s contemptuous expression hardly changed.

He merely stared down at his snail, cigar smoke wafting up from his place at his desk within the basement of the Rain Dinners casino in Alabasta.

For a single moment, he’d hoped he hadn’t actually recognized that new voice. But that hope immediately died on the vine like all else in the next words from the uninvited.

“You picked the wrong night, you greasy prick. Take your cheap ass agents elsewhere. I’m working this island right now.” The string clone grumbled, now standing over its handiwork of the fresh kill.

“Doflamingo.” Crocodile bit further into his cigar. Body bristling with that physical abhorrence to just the confirmed sound of the other’s vile tone and everything it still represented to him. “Why are you even there? You goddamned freak. And helping marines no less…”

“Why are you trying to pick up little girls for quick cash? Are you that destitute again already? Do you need another loan from a real businessman, Croc?”

“I owe you nothing anymore. And I won’t ever again.”

The resulting dark laugh at that indignation reverberated low and menacing from the string clone. “Oh, like you didn’t enjoy paying it back to me…and with interest. You miss it don’t you? No one can fill you like I did.”

“You never get any less disgusting.” Came the hateful reply. “And you aren’t half as good as you think you are. But do stay delusional, Heavenly Demon.”

There was no quicker way to get under Doflamingo’s own skin of course. Even through proxy as the clone sneered, that ego prodded as he straightened up immediately. “Your moans for me said different, you sandy bitch. But here’s the thing. You do owe me something again now.”

“For goddamn what?” Crocodile growled. “I haven’t taken a single beri from you in years.”

“Your stooges shot the woman I was there with. You drew blood from something that belongs to me. How are you going to make that up to me?”

And Crocodile scoffed immediately. “Sounds like a mercy killing if some poor woman only had your company to endure. Just go buy another like you always do. Enjoy the complimentary syphilis or chlamydia to go along with it.”

The string clone hissed, even the forehead veins bulging in a realistic way. “You dumb motherfucker…you’re still not understanding. I wasn’t there with some call girl. I’m not talking about a worthless bystander. Your dead idiot already told you. They shot and cut that marine. It didn’t kill her because your men are trash. But you’re on my claim now. And you know I don’t let anyone take what’s mine. If you want me to fix this how I see fit, then that’s fine. Vice Admiral Momonga’s nearby. I can have a nice chat with him tonight about that dance powder you’ve been looking for can’t I? As if you could really buy it from outside of my network. And that Nefertari bitch you thought you could ransom and kill? I’m sure they’d love to know that too. Or were you going to ‘discover’ and defeat her killers yourself to get more on her daddy’s good side? I swear you might as well be fucking him too. You kiss ass, traitor.”

And Crocodile sat there for a moment. Truly awestruck at this mix of idiocy and true madness that had just graced his ears. “…Do you even goddamn hear your own words anymore? If only you’d drown yourself one day like the original Narcissus story.” He grumbled, the sheer audacity of it all as well seeming overwhelming. “So you’re now bedding marines too? As if that won’t blow up right in your face, you pathetic nymphomaniac.”

Crocodile kept on though, just getting louder in his responding anger, “You still think your cock alone can turn anyone into another of your sycophants? Please. You’re no gift from the gods, I assure you. You’re just another pirate who got lucky one too many times. And that over confidence will bite you in the ass someday. You’re going to fall like a house of cards then. And I hope we’re all still alive to see you hit every rung of that ladder on your way back down it.”

“Keep dreaming. Everything you do is only an imitation of what I’ve already accomplished!” Doflamingo spat back. “You should have given in and just become my subordinate ages ago. You’re going to bite off more than you can chew and choke on it without me to bail you out anymore.”

Crocodile was truly furious then. That implication of still not being responsible for his own success pushing him over that final edge of his composure. “Do not think for one fucking second that I owe anything I’ve achieved to you!”

“You tried to sleep your way to the top with me, Croc. Fucking own it! You got paid well for it, didn’t you!? But you stopped too soon. I could have taken you even higher.”

“I’d sooner gut myself on my own hook than ever come back to you, you degenerate bird!”

“Well, mess with that marine again and I’ll do it for you! I never minded rearranging your guts. But I can tear them out to show them to you just as fucking easily!”

“Go back to hell! If she has a functioning brain at all, that marine will escape you at first opportunity. Just like I did! You’ll be in Impel Down when she inevitably betrays you. In fact, I’ll be rooting for her now. I may even send her sympathy flowers, despite what she’s cost me here! There’s nothing wrong with sharing a common enemy. Because I’m sure she’ll see it my way soon. Your charms are all too fleeting. You’re just a disgusting, clawing, parasite! And once that mask falls for good, no one would even be caught dead with you!”

And the string clone was trembling in its own resulting rage of course. Because it would always come to this. They could never keep from each other’s throats for long. So very different in their personalities, but all too similar as well in that competing pride which had bled into full blown hatred after this long. Neither would ever forgive the other. “You’re wrong as always. And I’m going to prove it. Watch for the news! She’s mine, like you could have been. You ungrateful shit!”

And the connection was broken as the string clone crushed the receiver from off of that snail before the doppelgänger unravelled back to nothing in the alleyway.

All that raw emotion went straight back to the original who’d been aware of every word the entire time. Like the ultimate ventriloquy act through the power of his devil fruit.

Doflamingo’s real hands were still trembling in anger as he dug his fingers into the top of his pants over his thighs, sitting beside you in the ballroom still.

He wasn’t walking away this time, regardless of when the other marines would finally come. You could be as pissed as you wanted to be. He’d had enough of hiding and being told what he could or couldn’t have…and being judged as the kind of man he was or was not.

This was his life, his choices. He’d been pushed too far tonight.

——————————— 

“Sir…I mean your highness, it’s perfectly alright. Really. I’m just waiting for my commanding officer and then we’ll get all these creeps put in his brig for you and be on our way.” You tried again, attempting to fend off King Cobra’s continued insistence on having you checked out by their royal doctor. 

Even after Doflamingo had said cryptically that the last assailant was ‘taken care of’, that dark implication still hadn’t dampened the new mood in the ballroom.

King Cobra couldn’t stop thanking you, and everyone seemed to be worrying over you like some kind of selfless hero in return now that things had settled while waiting for the marines. 

And honestly, it was kind of refreshing to realize that there was a king that could act this grateful in public. He did seem to truly love his daughter and be beside himself with relief that she had nothing more than a few scuffs and scrapes after the whole ordeal.

It’d definitely been a targeted and brazen attack as she hadn’t even been alone when she’d been taken either. Her father had been at a meeting elsewhere on the island when their villa had been raided and her attendants and guards all overcome. 

Apparently the kidnappers had run into more guards responding to those initial distress calls though, and their group had had to detour through the crowded ballroom to try and escape detection. As oblivious as the average noble was, it absolutely would have worked. Only you, as unsophisticated as you were, had noticed the trouble for what it was.

And you had no regrets at all for what you’d done. Vivi too had remained close afterward, fussing over you as well and asking question after question about how you’d learned to do these things. Princess or not, she was still eager and curious now that the danger had finally passed.

“Do you think I could kick like that one day?” She asked with that kind of sincerity that could only come from youth.

“I don’t see why not.” You smiled, picking on her about that blue and green feathered masquerade mask of her own. “Call it the peacock slice or something. I’m terrible with move names though.”

“Ah, hmm. The peacock kick maybe?” And she did raise her leg a little, just laughing as the two of you continued to joke.

Of course you hoped this devil fruit nonsense you’d been hit with would wear off soon so that you’d be kicking again too. After waking in the guards’ restraints, one of the other attackers had confessed how the power set of the one who had cut you worked.

That fruit user had cut you twice, which apparently numbed and paralyzed whatever they cut for at least hours at a time. So you had one useless leg and one useless arm for now. If he’d cut you in the chest though you may have stopped being able to breathe all together.

So it could have definitely been worse. But you still worried about one other thing entirely now.

Even after dealing with that one escapee, Doflamingo had chosen to remain here beside you. And you’d already used one of the guards’ snails to call Momonga who was on his way. 

Of course Vivi, her guards, and even King Cobra had already seen Doflamingo here. Vivi and the first guards to arrive had even seen that kiss you’d given him that he’d also returned. But you weren’t sure they realized who he actually was.

Yet even in the mask instead of his sunglasses, and the dark suit instead of all the hot pink feathers, you had no doubt that the marines would know him when seeing him up close.

Because no one looked like Donquixote Doflamingo…but Donquixote Doflamingo.

And then what were you to say? You didn’t understand what his plan was. He just seemed agitated. Brooding over something still, but tolerating everything in silence as you played with Vivi and repeatedly politely declined Cobra’s offers of assistance.

You felt like you were still being guarded by the warlord right now in front of these others. Which wasn’t fully insulting considering your current state. You wouldn’t even be able to walk on your own right now.

But this current silence from him just left you hoping that that trademark smooth talking bullshit of his would emerge whenever the marines did arrive.

Couldn’t he just say he’d been here on his own and that any sudden fight or violence was always going to pique his interest? That wouldn’t be so far fetched would it? He was already a king in a place for royalty. One who loved fighting so much that he personally oversaw brutal colosseum matches in his home country. So that story might work.

You wished he would have at least said something more to you though after that short word of him taking care of the escaped assailant. When he didn’t, you had just kept on with Vivi.

But kids weren’t stupid. Especially her you were finding as she did lean in and finally whisper in your ear. “I think your boyfriend is still really mad you got hurt maybe? My friend Pell says boys are bad at feelings.”

You felt the heat in your face immediately. But you still laughed at the surprise and innocence of it, making Doflamingo’s head at last turn at the rare sound of your laugh as he looked at you both.

“Your friend Pell sounds smart.” You responded at normal volume, knowing the warlord had not heard what the girl said.

“He is. He didn’t come to Scylla with us. I bet he comes next time after this though! He’s a good fighter too.” Vivi smiled back.

She was helping you relax. But for all your worrying about what to say or do when Momonga and the others would at last walk in, that didn’t end up being what you had to contend with first anyway.

Not at all as new voices erupted as you’d all been awaiting only the marines. 

You were finding that these supposed royal guards weren’t really worth a damn as several more people slipped right past them. Not with guns or swords this time. But in a way, almost something far worse as you saw that first flash bulb go off.

“King Cobra! Princess Vivi! We’re with the World Economic Journal!” The reporters clamored.

Cobra wasn’t far away at that moment, just with his guards again, confirming that all the remaining attackers were remaining properly restrained.

Vivi was right beside you however. Doflamingo on your other side, all three of you sitting on chairs in a row now as the press swarmed in to first get pictures of the scuffed up princess.

Fuck. You thought, albeit straightening up in your own seat immediately. You could see Vivi doing the same, but she grabbed your hand just as fast. And you realized she was helping you hide the fact that your arm was so limp for the cameras. Making it look better just that simply with her quick thinking to reposition it and hold your hand in clear solidarity.

She’d been trained as a princess, and you as a marine to both give a certain appearance to the public. Two completely different ends of the spectrum, but evidently complimentary here at least.

And their hunger for a story was as bad as anytime you’d ever been at the mercy of these vultures. Though normally never with such a direct role. After noteworthy or controversial deployments, the press would sometimes be found hounding for a picture or an official marine quote as you’d all be trying to reload Tsuru’s ship in port. The reporters hanging around the gangplank like scavengers, making the crew have to chase them off in order to actually depart.

You’d never spoken to them directly. 

“They said you’re a marine! Was this a planned undercover operation then? Did you rescue the princess alone!? Did a kidnapper escape!?”

And you were about to open your mouth only to say that they could direct all questions to Vice Admiral Momonga once a full investigation had been completed…the standard canned answer you’d been taught when not sanctioned to speak to them.

But the man at your other side finally came back to himself in that moment. At least on the outside as he had shifted in his chair. One of his legs subtly touching against yours when he did so. Against your paralyzed leg that you couldn’t move away from him as his arm then stretched out over the back of your chair as well.

His body language said everything of possession and your one working hand absolutely clenched against your knee in your shocked reaction. Your mind was beginning to panic even if your expression didn’t yet change.

He still wasn’t smiling though. But his voice was easily that charismatic, strong tone you’d hoped for again. The one that made everyone stop and listen as the camera lenses turned to him immediately.

But you hadn’t wanted it like this. He was feeding into them instead of helping to play this down. What was he trying to do?

“Her name is Captain (Y/N).” Doflamingo spoke. “She defeated them all unassisted. One was not properly detained by these guards. I handled him after his escape.”

And you were hearing the camera shutters clicking all the while as he spoke for you. 

You could even see the focused looks in the reporters faces. They were trying to place him. They all knew by now that he was someone important. With that aura again forming, this sway he had over the room as soon as he’d chosen to be present and back outside of his own head again. 

“Your name, sir!?” One reporter finally asked.

And even Vivi was looking past you in curiosity then as you took a breath.

That smug smirk did cut across his face in response. He was letting the drama build.

You felt his fingers grace across your bare shoulder with the style of your dress too, from his arm that was over the back of your chair as it actually moved down. And there wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it in that moment.

“Donquixote Doflamingo.” The warlord announced himself.

The gasps went around the room as the camera flashes absolutely went wild again. The reporters were writing furiously in their little notebooks as well.

“King Donquixote!” “Are you here with the marines!?” “Was this a warlord assignment!?” “Has Dressrosa allied with Alabasta Kingdom!?” They all asked in competing shouts for his attention.

And as you stared across the room, you saw Vice Admiral Momonga now standing with his stunned officers beside an equally surprised looking King Cobra. 

Doflamingo’s hand only tightened even further on your bare shoulder at Momonga’s arrival however. That bit of your dried blood still coloring those long fingers.

The pirate was giving you no option, no warning as the fear grew further in your chest. How far was he going to go? You couldn’t stand from the chair, you couldn’t even walk away from him.

He knew that.

“I was here on pleasure, not business.” And he was beginning to smile truly then, fully understanding everything that he was doing to you now. “Dressrosa needs no alliances to prosper. We’re already wealthier and thriving more than we ever have been. But-“

His head turned to look down at you with renewed emphasis.

“This particular marine has impressed me as of late. Saving Princess Nefertari here is just the tip of the iceberg I assure you in what (Y/N) is capable of. So in recognition of this, I’m formally inviting her to Dressrosa. That’s the only alliance I’m interested in right now.”

He hadn’t even called you a captain there. He’d just said your goddamn name like it was already so informal. Which of course it was to him…but not in front of everyone. Not in a fucking press conference as you felt how uneven your breath was becoming. Momonga and his officers were still outright staring now, completely taken aback.

Was this what the beginnings of a panic attack felt like?

And Doflamingo must think that even then his intentions weren’t obvious enough here.

He wanted everyone to know.

Because with that quick dexterity that so few could have managed, his other hand had already grabbed yours. Specifically your paralyzed one, slipping it right from Vivi’s grip as if the girl had never had it at all. 

He was that entirely smooth in that quick movement. You couldn’t pull your arm back away from him if you’d tried.

“Doflamingo.” You finally hissed.

And you saw that dark smile in response. “Too late.” He whispered back.

And the King of Dressrosa brought your hand to his lips as he kissed the top of it in front of the flashes of those cameras. “Dressrosa would be lucky to have you.” He said louder for them to hear again. “What do you say, Captain?” 

You heard Vivi make a noise to your other side. Not a negative one either. It was almost an excited squeak. But the girl was too young to understand. This was not a romantic gesture on his part at all. This was not a fairytale or any proposal of lifelong happiness. 

You could lose everything you had fought for just from this abrupt power play. 

But if you humiliated Doflamingo in such a public forum by fighting back or even verbally rejecting him at all, the outcome would have been as certain as signing your own death certificate and likely those of your friends as well.

You knew that every single click of those cameras could be an image that Big News Morgans might print for the entire world by morning. Anything you did now would be eternal on the printed page. You wouldn’t be able to take it back. 

But for all your own fear and anger for being singled out this way…you still didn’t hate him.

And you couldn’t hurt him.

“Warlord Doflamingo…King Donquixote.” You said so very carefully. Somehow finding your own voice by adrenaline alone, as he still held your hand in that illusion of the interested gentleman suitor before the world.

“You are already my ally by the balance of powers that the marines have made and maintain with the warlords. And as the leader of the World Government nation of Dressrosa as well…of course it is also my duty to support you and your people however requested.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of your chest. You were waiting for him to still be angry. You knew the neutrality and almost cowardice you were choosing in your words here. But you were still trying to save yourself without sacrificing his pride.

But that false warmth in his response did not hesitate. Not for even a moment. “Then I’m asking you to head a new marine post that we’re going to establish in Dressrosa, Captain. Actually…I’m asking you to return to Dressrosa with me when my ship leaves port tomorrow. We can scout locations for this new post immediately once we reach my home country.”

He was going to take you anyway. 

And he was telling everyone here in real time, daring a soul to do a thing to stop it.

Vivi’s attempted kidnapping had been accompanied with all the dramatics of fighting and gunfire, and still been thwarted by you alone.

Yet your own abduction was now happening with only hollow words and camera flashes in front of an entire crowd who had every eye on you and this pirate. And no one moved to help you at all. No one even tried.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x y/n #doflamingo x you #doflamingo x crocodile #crocodile x doflamingo #doffy x y/n #doffy x you #doffy x reader #one piece fanfiction #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #doflamingo one piece #op doflamingo #doffy #doffy one piece #dofuwani #doflamingo’s marine

[beloved-belittled]

Gods/Titans x Sick! Reader

Characters: Shinnok, Raiden, Fujin, Liu Kang, Cetrion, Kronika 

A/N: Did not have the brainpower to work on my other stories so I drafted up this instead. Influenza is a bitch.

TW: Implied yandere, mentions of drugging, kidnapping, death, SFW

18+ to interact

Shinnok 

Can probably detect that you're getting sick before your symptoms show. You know how some people can smell sickness? It's like that with Shinnok. Thankfully, you don't have the waft of death he's so accustomed to being around. He's not worried about you dying from this. Still, he'd rather not his plaything be ill.

He's a bit confused on how you got sick in the first place though. He doesn't exactly take you outside once he's kidnapped you, and it's not like he's affected by any mortal disease so ???. It's especially puzzling if this happens while you're trapped in the amulet. At least in the cell you came into contact with demons who may have carried something. 

Regardless, at this point Shinnok realizes his arsenal of healing magic is rather… Lacking. He's much more adept at rending flesh than mending it. But he's a skilled sorcerer so it takes him little time to learn a healing spell. A few test subjects later and he feels confident at curing your cold.

All this takes less than 24 hours for Shinnok to achieve. You're probably bed ridden at this point with all the chills/fever, coughing, and weakness. Speaking of beds, I think this is one of the few times he'll have you sleep in a bed rather than your cell. He wants you to recover after all. The only way you’re dying is by his hands and not some petty mortal disease. 

His magic works better than any herbal healing or medicine tbh. One moment you're on death's door and the next you've completely recovered. No sign of illness anywhere in your body. Even though being Shinnok's darling is not desirable, it does come with a few benefits like this.

Raiden 

Raiden doesn't know you're sick until the symptoms show. Might not discover your illness until 2-3 days of you being under the weather due to his busy schedule. He likely hears about your condition from a monk he's trusted to watch over you. Man immediately teleports to the Sky Temple to see how you're doing. He finds you laying in the bed barely able to move. Wearily, you greet him only to immediately fall into a coughing fit.

Unfortunately, he can't fry the disease out of you with his electricity. So, herbal healing it is! You drink more tea this week than you have your entire life. Seriously, you have to beg Raiden to stop because your stomach is about to burst. He does, only to immediately pursue some aromatherapy. Your room smells strongly of flowers and eucalyptus afterwards.

Would frequently check on you nearly every hour. If there's an extremely urgent matter that calls for his attention he'll leave his most trusted colleagues to look after you. Right after he's done with business he'll ask the person if your status has improved. 

He's super mindful of making sure you don't get bed sores or any other complications from laying around all day. At the same time, he only wants you getting up to bathe or use the restroom. You're essentially stuck in one place until he can 100% guarantee you've recovered. 

If your condition worsens he would hire a doctor to come see you. If the doctor suggests you go to a hospital, Raiden will take you there. I imagine the admission process would be a bit awkward though. He has no idea how all this works so you're left doing most of the speaking. You get admitted in though, and no his constant visiting doesn't stop even now. The hospital staff would likely have to kick him out.

Overall, he's praying that you'll make it through this.

Fujin

Well, Fujin actually lives among mortals so he has more knowledge on how to take care of you. Like Raiden, whenever he's on important business he hires someone to watch over you. I could see him having a phone unlike his brother. Definitely more hip with the times. Anyways, because of this he probably gets a worried text from your caretaker that you've fallen ill.

He arrives back home ASAP. Seeing you in this condition pulls at his heartstring the most. Out of everyone he's the most worried, as he's had his most favorite mortals pass away from illness. He wastes no time getting into Dr. Fujin mode.

He has you on a liquid diet until you heal. Tea, soup, broth -that's all you're eating for the next week. He’ll get whatever you need medicine wise. Got a headache or cramps? He'll get some painkillers pronto. Are you coughing with an irritated throat? Have some cough syrup/drops. He's very attentive in giving you a balance of home remedies and prescribed drugs.

It pains him every time you cough or groan in pain. He wants nothing more than to cure you right now. He hates seeing you suffer from illness. You can expect him to keep you company for as long as necessary. He'll also bring whatever entertainment you want, long as it isn't too expensive. 

Again, if your conditions worsen he'll take you to a hospital. It's a smoother process getting in with him though. He also understands the concept of visiting hours, but best believe he's taking full advantage of them. He'll only leave your side if he has to and will be back the next morning.

Liu Kang 

He doesn't have an ability to detect disease but he does have impeccable intuition. Something just changes about you before you fall ill. He's not even sure how he predicted it, but sure enough you're bedridden a few days after his spidey senses tingle.

He tries not to be too worried about your cold. He hasn't crafted your destiny to be one where you die from disease. But, there are some externalities even he can't control being Keeper of Time. So, it's off to the Wu Shi's medbay with you!

The Fire God checks up on you regularly, but not as often as Raiden or Fujin. It's not that he cares less, but rather he understands boundaries more. You don't need him breathing down your neck while you're recovering or sleeping. He makes an effort to see you every day though, giving you updates of what's going on at the academy. 

If you're suffering from chills though at least you're in luck! He'll keep the room more than warm enough with his fire powers. It's like having a heated blanket around whenever he's in the medbay. At the same time, if you have a fever you may find his presence to be a little too warm. 

I believe if you don't get better he'd take you to a sorcerer skilled in healing. Luckily, there's a whole multiverse at his disposal so it's extremely easy for him to find someone to cure you. You won't die under his care. You're far too precious for him to lose.

Cetrion

Can detect your sickness way before symptoms show. Honestly, you probably wouldn't even realize you're sick before her magic heals you. With her around you don't have to worry about such mortal afflictions. 

If there was an illness that her powers couldn't heal… Well tbh you're probably going to die. But, I think it would leave her spiraling into a pit of worry beforehand. How did you get this disease? What can she do to help you? I think she'd try a lot of home remedies like the other characters here but doesn't have as much faith for it working. After all, no mortal medicine can surpass her powers as an Elder God.

If you pass away from this she'll likely just keep your soul in Heaven with her. If she's Keeper of Time she may just restart the Timeline. Although, I can't imagine it'd be too hard for her to just put your soul in a surrogate or artificial body. Regardless, she's not going to let an illness take you away from her. The consequences be damned.

Also, in a weird way I could see Cetrion getting you sick on purpose. Drugging whatever you eat/drink with just enough poison to make you lethargic and sleepy. Or manipulating the timeline so you're purposefully born with a weak body. It feeds her ego to take over a caregiver role for you. Having you completely dependent on her love and attention gives her a much needed dopamine boost. It's very unfortunate for you.

Overall… Probably the best person to have if you get sick. As long as she decides to heal you immediately of course.

Kronika

Is even more confused than her son about how you got sick. After all, she had you trapped in a pocket outside of time. Even if you caught a pathogen, it wouldn't be able to progress due to time being paused there. And not only that, you've been in there for far longer than the incubation time of any disease. Briefly, she wonders if your safety inside the bubble has been compromised. She dismisses that idea though. No… No one has the ability to tread that space without her permission. Not in her New Era.

Fortunately, she can just reverse the “age” of your body to before you got infected. She's reversed time on your body several times at this point, so she's not the least bit worried about doing so. A wave of her hands later and you're cured. And feeling a bit younger too.

Not much else to really say here. I doubt she would intentionally get you sick. Also with her being a Titan and succeeding against Liu Kang/Raiden in this timeline, the arc of history really does bend to her will. So basically -you're not getting sick on her watch.

#mortal kombat x reader #yandere mortal kombat #shinnok x reader #raiden x reader #fujin x reader #liu kang x reader #cetrion x reader #kronika x reader #my writings

[stressfulsloth]

In regards to your post “and now I'm. Just thinking about the loneliness that is SO pervasive through Elysium.”…

I have one thing to offer, or perhaps nitpick if you’d prefer it that way.

I don’t think it’s entirely fair to say the Sunday Friend isn’t a real friend. The Smoker On The Balcony believes him to be a real friend, even if he isn’t going to be there come Monday morn. But isn’t that enough? A friend on Sunday is still a friend, even if it makes waking up Monday all the worse.

Perhaps I’m biased though! Now that I think about it, most of my friends would fit the description. “Fair weather friend” feels to cold, but “sunday friend” is good enough.

And of course none of this is to say your post is at all wrong. It’s lovely and true. I just felt the need to quarrel publicly with that little detail.

To conclude, since I really just did not make myself very clear here; you are utterly correct to include the Sunday Friend in a post about loneliness but I take slight issue with saying he’s not a real friend. And so I wrote you a very long ask. And now as I reach it’s end I’m realising this was a very silly undertaking. But I’ve come this far so I’m going to grow a pair and hit “ask”.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope it isn’t too desperately obnoxious.

Peace out ✌️

Ahh man I'm sorry anon but I'm going to have to disagree with you pretty strongly here 😅 tbh I was a little too easy on him in the original post. It's not necessarily the temporary nature of their acquaintance that makes the Sunday Friend's friendship questionable on its own, although it doesn't help.

The Sunday Friend is quite literally not a friend. "Friend" in his title is a euphemism; he's not coming to visit the Smoker because he's his friend. He's coming to visit the smoker to do a bit of poverty tourism, to admire the crumbling place that his beliefs have helped to destroy, and a bit of heavily implied sex tourism too. A "first world" tourist, a bureaucrat from the international government, visiting one of the most impoverished districts of Revachol to spend his nights with a student. He's not the Smoker's friend, he's a client. They're using 'friend' as a stand-in for his actual role, which is a) as a part of the moralist bureaucratic system repressing the revolution and keeping the city as a whole trapped in a laissez faire purgatory easily exploited by foreign capitalists and ultraliberals, while still maintaining a friendly respectable face, and b) as the Smoker's customer, exploiting the poverty of Martinaise's residents to get what he wants for cheap and using the easy mobility that his money and status give him. Imo he's intended narratively as a parallel for the moralist coalition government; he views from a distance, focused on money and *ze price stabilité* but entirely divorced from the poverty and consequence of his work. Happy to dip his toe in and make use of exploitable populations in Revachol, but always ready to leave too. When asked how he became 'friends' with the smoker, his response is literally to describe the coalition occupying Revachol.

He knows so little about the Smoker beyond him being there to study art, but what kind? "Perhaps graphic design? Printmaking? Who knows?" As to your point about the Smoker thinking he's a real friend, the Smoker is under no illusions about who the Sunday Friend is. An injection of money. Someone with power, someone with the mobility afforded to him by ownership of a non-Revacholian passport, someone content to watch the place decay and do nothing but indulge himself in pet projects and worry about bureaucracy. Someone with the freedom to leave when things get bad; a freedom that is narratively only assigned to a rare few extremely bourgeois characters. Dora, on her flight to Mirova, Joyce and her boat, Trant and his academic travels, and the Sunday Friend who will be out of Martinaise like a shot the moment things start to kick off despite being a part of the overarching structure that is responsible for Revachol's subjugation and rising political tensions. The Sunday Friend will use the Smoker's labour, use the vulnerability of Revachol's precarious situation to his advantage, then once it becomes too precarious or he gets bored, he'll withdraw. In answer to your question, no, I don't think that's enough. Again I probably oversimplified in my last post but the loneliness all throughout DE is not just an emotional state but a political one. Alienation is a major theme. As is the impossibility of building community in the face of capitalism relentlessly subsuming anything in its path, in the face of shallow relationships dictated by the need for survival. The Sunday Friend embodies that concept perfectly. He is exquisitely shallow in conversation, a perfect moralist who at all times strives to remain impartial and distant.

Anyway. Tldr; my point is that the relationship between the Smoker and the Sunday Friend is far more transactional, and far more exploitative, than you seem to believe. "Friend" is not being used literally but euphemistically. A 'fairweather friend' is better than none, sure, but that's entirely inapplicable to this situation. Sorry for the long post and I hope it's not too rambling- I'm surviving on very little sleep right now but I hope it clears up for you a bit why I referred to the Sunday friend in that way initially.

#disco elysium #sunday friend #long post #sorry this is such a long reply- there is so much more that i could add but i am cutting myself off or I'd carry on forever

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Imagine being insecure about your relationship with Eddie (GN!reader).

Tw; insecure reader, swearing, Eddie maybe has a rough approach to this? Basically forces reader to tell him what’s wrong, negativity, one sentence implies Eddie wants to vomit out of anxiety but it's entirely metaphorical and so quick you might miss it, this is a comfort piece…. Inspired by my own feelings tonight.

The GIF is how I imagine him looking at reader as they spill their feelings.

Tagging people I think may enjoy - @hersweetrevenge @eddiebunson @dreaming-of-fictional-characters @seidenbros let me know if you want to be removed from this post!!!

Word count: 1, 605.

For a while, you sit on it. You chew on your lip, clench your fists, keep your thoughts locked between your teeth. Eddie lets you have your space, he lets you seek comfort from him and even though the questions burn him, he keeps them inside.

You’ll come to him when you’re ready and not a moment before.

Except this time, you don’t.

Days pass and your mood worsens and Eddie’s not sure if you know that you’ve started to pull away from him, emotionally and physically. You’re hugging him, kissing him, but you’re also not there with him. It gets to the point where Eddie would straight up just rather not be affectionate with you, as opposed to being hugged by you but feeling like it’s an echo of what he knows you normally give him. He's always been all or nothing. It’s torture, watching you hurting right beside him but feeling like there's a wall between you, it is, and he’s worried and frustrated and you’re stood right there but he misses you.

Eddie tried patience. He gave you space. It got worse. So then he steps in. Enough's enough.

“All right, sweetheart, what’s biting at you?”

“Nothing, Eddie, I’m fi - “

Eddie snaps.

“Don’t bullshit me! You’re eating yourself alive, have been for days, and I wanna know why!” Eddie takes a deep breath. He sees the way you shrink into yourself and in an attempt to calm himself, he goes back to his trail mix, angrily nibbling on a pretzel as he looks up at you. Despite how rough he's being, you know it's worry. For you.

Your insecurities aren't just affecting you anymore. They are now taking chomps out of Eddie, too. You never wanted it to go this far.

Time to let it all out.

“I just…” you inhale, exhale. Again. Close your eyes. Inhale, exhale, aaaaand, “I don’t think I’m… I don’t feel like you and me, like we…” Eddie’s breathing has gotten deeper, he’s trying so so hard to be patient, to not jump the gun. Just like when Dustin has to go through a paragraph for what is effectively one sentence (and fuck, Eddie loves that little shrimp), Eddie gives you that same space to reach your own conclusion, even with his anxiety rising so strongly that he feels sick. He shoves his trail mix away. It never tastes good the second time. “I don’t think I’m the right person for you.”

“Why?” A bullet out of a gun,or a whip crack. Sharp. No messing around. Eddie wants his answers now.

Your forehead grows hot from the inside but still, you push on. You’ve been sat on this for so long that it’s been driving you crazy and you want to tell Eddie, you have this entire time, but how?

Like a bandaid. One, two -

You tell Eddie everything. You leave no stone unturned, no ugly thought unvoiced, and Eddie sits in silence the whole time, his dark eyes fixed on your face. He sees every hitched breath, every hard swallow, every hand tremble, every shaky attempt to stop yourself from totally breaking… Eddie sees you and it threatens to shatter him where he sits. His breathing is deep now, visibly trying to keep himself calm.

Finally, Eddie says, “you done?” In a totally dead tone of voice. It’s so flat that your eyes shoot up to meet his for the first time since you started to vent, and the look on his face knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You knew he’d be upset and that was a large part of why you hadn’t wanted to tell him anything about how you were feeling.

“Yeah, I… that’s all.”

“That’s all?” He sasses you with a tilt of his head, his dark curls brushing across his shoulders, “that’s all?”

You nod, eyeing him carefully.

“If I ever - “ he gestures at you with a pretzel held between two fingers like his beloved guitar picks, “and I mean ever,” his eyes become glassy with tears, “hear you talk so cruelly about my Y/N again, I’m gonna kick your ass, ‘kay?” He shuffles forward, hands hovering in the air in the space between you. An invitation. Your heart bleeds - you miss him so much - and you allow him to lace your fingers together. Eddie squeezes around your grip like it’s his last lifeline and his chocolate eyes practically beg you to listen to him. To listen. “‘Cause here’s the thing, sweetheart,” a wry smile, “all that stuff you said there? Total fucking bullshit.” Eddie narrows his eyes. “I’m gonna be totally straight with you, and I need you to hear me out. I've listened to you and now you're gonna listen to me." You haven't seen Eddie so serious for a while - not since the last campaign and certainly never directed at you - and it's dizzying.

You nod your consent so now it’s Eddie’s turn to vent. Every insult you voiced? Was digested and now Eddie gives you the same thought but reframed in a positive light. He has something positive to say for everything negative you said, he covers all his bases, uses everything he knows about you to touch your soul, wipes the tar away from your heart with a careful hand. Every insult you threw at him is thrown back as a compliment; your own words used against you. Eddie knows he can’t eradicate the insecurities but he’ll be damned if he lets you sit with them alone.

As quickly as his tone got rough, it mellows right out again.

“Bottom line, sweetheart, is that I love you. So, so much, for so many things. But mostly ‘cause you’re you, and I wouldn’t want you any other fucking way. Because then you’d be someone else, and they’re all taken. I don't want to be with anyone else. I just. Want. You.”

Eddie's voice trembles somewhat and what you perceive to be pain only makes your own that much more obvious. Finally, those tears which had been in his eyes began to spill over, making his chocolate eyes look that much more devastating, and the anger's gone. Anger is a secondary emotion anyway and it usually hides fear or sorrow.

In this moment, Eddie is both as he shifts in his seat, opening his arms up to you and offering you a place on his denim throne - his lap.

You go to him, no hesitation, like a string existed between your bodies, after days of pulling away, and Eddie practically moans when you slide into his lap. Locking your arms and legs around him. You've always wanted to climb Eddie like a tree, so that makes you a koala, right? Well, maybe not. Maybe Eddie is the koala, because he latches onto you too, burrows his face into the crook of your neck, and holds onto you so tightly that you almost have to concentrate just on breathing.

You run your hands up and down Eddie's back, comforting him as much as he is comforting you. Kisses are pressed all over his head, shoulders, anywhere you can reach, and your neck receives similar treatment from Eddie. His lips are slightly chapped, warm and dry, his nose pressing against your skin. Two tried and tired people coming back together, reaffirming their love for one another.

"I thought you were gonna leave me." A small, broken voice, confesses to your skin. Eyes shut tight, Eddie's voice breaks in multiple places. "Thought you were breaking up with me when you started finally talking to me. Got so scared, sweetheart."

The intensity when you first spoke to Eddie about all of this makes even more sense now. It wasn't anger... it was fear.

"Oh, Eddie, no," Tears drip into his hair as you cry, relief and worry and guilt and anxiety and love, and he pulls away from the embrace just enough to be able to cup your face in his hands, wiping your tears away. You do the same for him, forehead kisses and soft, sad smiles exchanged between you. "Honey, I'm sorry. How could I ever leave you? I love you. Just got all up in my head, I just... I look at you and how wonderful you are and then I look at me and I just... it doesn't make sense."

Eddie shakes his head fiercely, his hands tightening on your face. Tears drip faster for the both of you. "It doesn't have to make sense, Y/N. Just feel it. I love you for you, 'kay? Don't want anyone else." He hasn't been loving you right, not if you've been feeling like this. Neither of you know it, but you both feel as sick as the other person, desperate to make things better, using the love you felt to push through the barrier in your path.

You open your mouth to speak but then closed it again. What more was there to say?

How long you both sit there, exchanging kisses and soft sad smiles, reassuring touches, neither of you know, but the aches in your souls are soothed by it, by each other, and isn't that what truly matters when it comes down to it?

Two people so right together could never be wrong and if sometimes you can't see or feel that, it's okay. Eddie will feel it enough for the both of you, and lord knows he has just as many insecurities as you do. But together you work through it every time, because neither of you will accept anything else.

Together.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson drabble #stranger things 4 x reader

[darlingofdots]

Please tell us more about Crown Prince Mianning (referencing your tags on the "please he's a star" Blorbo meme) 👀

okay look so here's the deal (i will write this assuming you have not read these books):

Mianning is an extremely minor character in the Temeraire series. He appears in book 2 and in book 8 for maybe a grand total of 100 pages combined, AND YET when I was re-reading the series 3 times in two months I could not help but love him. some facts about my man:

he's the crown prince of china. this is already fun

he is like, 20? maybe 22? when we first meet him. he's granby's age. he's 10 years younger than laurence, the protagonist

in book 2 his main job is to be less awful and murderous than the other political actors at the chinese court, and to briefly offer respite and a new wardrobe to our much-tried heroes. king shit already

admittedly, he doesn't do much else in that book.

in between book 2 and book 8, his dragon companion is poisoned and killed. that's fucking heartbreaking. and he's still keeping his shit together even though his companion's twin looks exactly like him and that has to be so difficult

absolutely badass when kidnapped and imprisoned. he immediately figures out what's going on and what needs to be done and he and laurence just become A Team. also he keeps referring to laurence as his little brother (because the emperor adopted laurence it's complicated don't worry about it) even though, as aforementioned, laurence is like 10 years his senior. iconic.

he does politics so good i'm so proud

he just? seems like a nice guy? everyone knows the adoption is just for diplomatic reasons but mianning doesn't sneer or protest or treat laurence like a foreign pretender, he welcomes him and his company into his house and makes sure they're safe and comfortable and he speaks on his behalf to the emperor and it's strongly implied that he maintains a positive relationship afterwards and? I love that?

genuinely I think he and laurence should just be friends. brothers for real. I know laurence already has two brothers but it just seems like they'd get along really well. mianning would keep telling him to take on a concubine or two. he'd insist on official visits because you are part of this family now u better act like it >:(

in conclusion:

#temeraire #dottie rambles #dottie replies #technically he's emperor by like mid book 9 but eh #i just think he's neat!

[voxtech-status]

Pleased to meet you!

This is the private blog of Vox, or more famously, CEO of VoxTek! Unlike a certain someone, I do understand the significance of modern technology and how it can be an effective tool of communication, so feel free to approach me outside work hours.

WARNING:

This Vox will contain a healthy? amount of one-sided radiostatic, personal HCs about him, angst, and mainly the life and love of a certain pathetic TV demon. Of course, not affiliated with Vivziepop or the official Hazbin Hotel in any way.

I.. will swear a lot, but not unnecessarily. No worries about that.

Graphic violence/NSFW will not be mentioned, but might potentially be implied in some answers.

Vox's 'work hours' is basically when I sleep so don't worry about that part in the intro.

Once again, I project a lot of Vox HCs in this canon-divergent(kind of? Only his backstory though, all the events that have occurred in season 1 remain canon) account. If you don't like them, don't follow me, please.

My main blog The big backstory HC I use for Vox

Rules:

Anything overly inappropriate will be ignored. NSFW strongly depends on the content.

Nothing that can be considered as offensive/disrespectful to certain groups will be allowed.

Uncomfortable asks will be ignored!

OOC will speak with italics

#hazbin hotel #ask blog #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #rp #roleplay #radiostatic #staticlovetune

[dragonsdendoodles]

Hey, don't know if you did that yet but do you have any hcs for our little princess Claire ?

I haven’t yet but I absolutely do, only the best for our littlest peculiar!

- I really like the idea of Claire being interested in ice skating. I talk about it a lot with Horace (because surprise surprise, the figure skater likes to shove his sport in everyone’s faces,) but the immediate next idea I get is that if Horace finds his way to an ice rink, Claire follows him and he teaches her how to skate.

- On that note, Claire and Horace being besties is just a really cute idea to me. They’re very similar when you think about it, I like to think they get along wonderfully

- Stealing this from the movie (because it’s one of the only details I like from it,) but when they’re not bickering about something I think it would be really funny to see Enoch pick her up and take her places. I’m this close to making a sticker of Enoch carrying Claire and they’re both just staring at you and judging you intensely

- She has a princess tiara like Olive does but she gets worried about ruining it so she doesn’t wear it nearly as much

- I know Museum of Wonders mentioned her backmouth can in fact speak, but I don’t think she knows that. Personally if I’m remembering the description right I think she’d be a little bit scared of it if she did honestly

- Not really a headcanon since we do kind of see it, but I think out of everyone, Claire gets sick the easiest. She’s that one kid at your elementary school that was allergic to everything and had to bring homemade cupcakes anytime someone had a birthday so she wouldn’t be left out

- On that note, I’m giving her my penicillin allergy, because I break out in hives if you give me it and through realizations about different kinds of cheese and evidently why they taste funky to me I can’t give it to Horace so sorry Claire we can suffer together

- Other than Bronwyn, Olive, and Miss Peregrine, if she’s hanging out with someone it’s either Hugh and Fiona or Enoch and Horace. The former two she sees as Parent Friends the same way Bronwyn is and the latter two she just thinks are funny

- Her hair is naturally curly, but she has Bronwyn help her make it neater.

- She’s probably the pickiest eater of the bunch, tied with Enoch. She will however steal dry spaghetti and eat it one noodle at a time

- When Fiona came back, Claire refused to let her out of her sight for multiple years. Minus Hugh, Claire is the most strongly attached to her because it’s at the very least heavily implied that Claire had to be the one to tell Hugh what happened in Miss Wren’s loop and I don’t like that she’s too little don’t do that to her

- Every year for Halloween she and Olive are princesses. Every time. They love it. Miss Peregrine is their queen.

- Her backmouth is also baby teeth, so if you let her age in the present long enough she will lose them too. She hasn’t lost any of her normal baby teeth as of living in the new loop, but she has lost two of her backmouth teeth and received appropriate tooth fairy visits.

Apologies for the lack of doodle for her, for me it’s five in the morning 😅 I’ll reblog this with a sketch when I make one though

#mphfpc #claire densmore #dragon’s headcanons