#fist mitts

[daddydicktampa]

Dirk Caber

[louis-sj]

3D printer fist mitts

The two pieces spring lock when pressed together. A rod is necessary to unlock them.

[imaybeabear]

Me, standing at the gates of amazon, holding a baseball bat behind my back: no guys, cmon, just let me in just for a minute! I just wanna know where Celeborn is, that's all, honest! What am I holding? Oh, nothing! You wouldn't part a person from their walking stick would you?? Now, just please point me in the direction of whoever took the real Elrond and I'll be on my way!

[fadedin2u]

hey batter, batter

MDNI 18+

synopsis: ellie and abby have been rivals for years, playing for their university’s softball team. one day you, their coach’s daughter, show up at their game and ruin everything.

content: ellabs x reader, reader isn’t specified to be fem or masc, reader is described as a “girl”, afab!reader, sub!reader, dom!abby, switch!ellie, cunnilingus(e! and r! receiving), fingering(everyone receiving), strap-on(r!receiving)

word count: 3.7k

notes: based on this, thank u to @andisalias for giving me the idea to do softball, i think it worked really well! disclaimer: i know NOTHING about sports and just did a lot of research for this fic, so if anything is inaccurate about softball, i’m so sorry lmao

ellie sits on a bench in the dugout, picking at her dirty fingernails as she watches abby go up to bat.

“i hate the fucking batting order, i swear to god that jared has a vendetta against me,” ellie tells dina, who’s up to bat after ellie.

jared, the coach for their university’s softball team, is standing off to the side of the field, watching each move anyone makes on the field like a hawk.

dina snorts, nodding towards abby; “i think he has a vendetta against you fucking with his star first baseman before she goes up to bat.”

ellie scoffs, “that bitch deserves it.”

dina laughs a little, “right.”

ellie shoots a glare towards dina and goes back to burning holes into the muscular blonde’s back with her intense staring as abby holds the bat up, ready to swing.

if ellie was honest with herself, she did find abby just a little bit attractive, but any attraction ellie felt was monumentally overpowered by her intense hatred and jealousy for the blonde. abby was an upperclassman and naturally excelled in softball, always managing to make ellie feel small just by walking past her, which ellie despised. luckily, she knew that abby was just as bothered by ellie in return.

the pitcher throws the softball and abby strikes out on all 3 throws. ellie’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised.

“oh shit.” dina remarks, “i can’t remember the last time i saw ellie strike out.”

ellie rolls her eyes, “she’s not that great, dude. she fucks up all the time.”

dina doesn’t reply, not wanting to amp up her teammate.

abby comes back to the dugout, simmering with embarrassment and rage. ellie stands up and bumps abby’s shoulder with her own as ellie goes to bat.

“nice going,” ellie sneers, her voice barely audible, but abby picks it up, her fists clenching at her sides as she takes a seat on the bench.

abby turns to look at the girl who distracted her in the stands, and it’s you, chewing a fat wad of Big League Chew. her cheeks grow warm at the thought of fucking up so badly in front of you.

‘knock it off, abs, you don’t even know her,’ abby’s brain supplies, and she tries to listen, turning back to watch ellie bat.

as ellie goes up to the plate, getting into position, she looks through the netting behind her to look at the crowd, looking to see if joel ended up making it to this game after work. she almost immediately finds joel, sitting at the front of the bleachers with a bag of sunflower seeds. ellie’s about to give him at least a nod, but is quickly distracted when she sees you sitting next to joel.

‘what the fuck? who the fuck is that?’ ellie thinks to herself, her cheeks reddening as she gets into position to bat.

she turns away for a second to catch another glimpse of you, but as she does, she feels the softball sail past her into the catcher’s mitt.

“strike one!”

ellie’s wholes face feels hot and she kicks herself internally for getting so distarcted that she didn’t even swing in front of one of the most attractive people she’s ever seen. she shakes out her head a little, and she hears joel clapping, offering some cheers of support for ellie, but it just makes her feel more humiliated.

ellie adjusts her position, avoiding eye contact with her coach as he silently fumes over his star players completely fucking up and out of their element.

when the pitcher pitches the ball again, ellie swings and misses. at this point, she can feel her rage physically in her stomach, burning. she wilts inside slightly as she thinks about you seeing her play the worst she’s played since high school.

on her last pitch, ellie swings too early and strikes out. ellie feels sick as she walks back to the dugout, tossing her bat on the ground with more force than she should use.

dina walks past ellie silently to go up to bat, knowing that saying anything to ellie about this right now would probably be a mistake.

ellie sits down on the bench, grinding her teeth as she makes a little hole in the dirt ground with her shoe.

abby leans over towards ellie, now smirking, “hmmm… karma’s a bitch, huh?”

ellie jaw thrusts forward, not replying or looking at abby in fear that she’ll lose all control and lunge at the bigger girl, which she knows their coach would probably kick ellie off the team for.

in the next inning, abby takes her position at first base as ellie takes center field. abby looks up at you, chewing her lip slightly as she does. she tries to push down the wild butterflies she has, cursing herself for how distracted she’s been getting by your mere presence and not wanting to fuck this up anymore.

abby looks back at her teammates, and catches ellie staring intently at the crowd. abby follows ellie’s line of sight back to you and she clenches her jaw.

as the game continues, abby and ellie both drag the team down significantly, the two most competitive and cutthroat girls now distracted and aloof, dropping balls and staring at you despite their efforts not to.

eventually, the game ends and the visiting team wins by a landslide. abby feels sick about being partly responsible for their first loss of the season. both girls walk with the team dejectedly as they file inside to the locker room, following their coach.

when they’re all in the locker room, jared lays in to them, specifically abby and ellie.

“abby. ellie. what the fuck was that? i’ve never seen either of you play like that. are you two fucking high?” jared reprimands angrily.

ellie’s face hardens, and she has to use every ounce of self control not to do something she’ll regret. abby, on the other hand, takes the criticism in, fully ashamed of how she played today.

“i’m sorry, coach… I was just off today, but it won’t happen again,” abby says, her head low.

ellie is so close to making fun of abby for kissing their coach’s ass, but before she does, you walk into the dressing room cautiously, sitting on a chair in the corner. ellie stares at you, confused, but her heart racing form just your presence.

jared shakes his head, “i just don’t get it, you’re both firecrackers normally, but today, it felt like you two weren’t even in the game.”

abby is stunned too, unable to come up with a response as she stares at you. you shift a little in your chair awkwardly as both women stare you down.

jared shakes his head again, “this better not happen ever again, got it? or else you’re off the team. you can’t pull this shit and off scott-free.”

abby and ellie both quickly snap their attention back to jared, knowing that both of their scholarships are from softball, and if they get kicked off, they’re fucked.

jared rubs his temples, “alright… i’m done for today. go home, and i’ll see you all at practice tomorrow.”

the team starts packing up their stuff, a few of them heading to the showers. ellie and abby watch as their coach approaches you.

jared gives you a hug, “hey, sorry that you had to hear that.”

you shake your head, clearly a little uncomfortable about watching jared reprimand the team. “it’s fine, dad, don’t worry.”

dad? ellie and abby’s jaws comically dropping at the same time.

as you and jared talk, ellie and abby tear themselves away to head to the showers, both of them irritated that the other is present.

‘jared’s fucking daughter??? there’s no way that dick made someone so beautiful,’ ellie sulks to herself, stripping her clothes.

both girls quickly shower and by the time they’re done and grabbing their bags, they’re the only two left in the locker room.

abby is determined not to say a word to ellie, but ellie has other plans.

“so, you have the hots for coach’s daughter then?” ellie asks as she stuffs her sweaty uniform into her bag, her hair wet and hanging in her face.

abby’s loose, wet hair dampens the back of her t-shirt as she glares at ellie, “please, don’t act like you weren’t drooling over her the whole game.”

ellie laughs a little, “well… yeah. i have eyes, dumbass.”

abby bristles, “so, you’re gonna ask her out or something?”

ellie shrugs, “and what if i did? afraid she might like me more, anderson?”

abby scoffs, “i’m more afraid of you harassing her.”

ellie glares at abby, taking a step towards her, “literally, fuck you.”

abby steps closer too, using her size advantage against ellie to try and intimidate her, “funny, it seems you ‘literally’ want to fuck her.”

“ummm…” they hear a small voice from the doorway of the locker room.

abby and ellie’s heads whip around and they see you standing there awkwardly.

“i, uh… my dad thinks he left his baseball cap in here and asked if i could find it before i head back to my dorm,” you over-explain, rambling a bit.

ellie’s eyes light up a little, ‘jackpot.’

“don’t worry, i’ll help you look around for it,” ellie immediately answers, going up to you, “i’m ellie, by the way.”

your cheeks are hot as you shake ellie’s hand, and abby realizes that ellie might be stealing her opportunity, and she walks up to you as well.

“hey, i’m abby.” she says, shaking your hand as well, her large hands engulfing yours, “and don’t stress, i know what his cap looks like, it must be around here somewhere.”

abby and ellie give each other murderous looks as they search the locker room for coach’s ball cap.

you look around as well, your brain racing as you contemplate what you overheard them saying before they saw you.

abby finds the ball cap on the counter and raises it up in victory, “found it!”

ellie takes a breath, trying not to get unnecessarily upset over something as trivial as this.

you grin, approaching abby, “oh thank god. i’m terrible at finding shit, i *really* appreciate you both helping me.”

“of course,” abby and ellie both respond at the same time, side eyeing each other slightly.

you stand in front of the two as an awkward silence settles over everyone.

you decide to be bold, for once in your life, and break the silence, “so, i, ummm… i overheard you two before walked in.”

abby’s eyes get big and ellie’s freckled face goes red.

“oh shit, i’m really so sorry,” abby says, running her hand through her loose hair anxiously as ellie stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

you smile a little, “no, it’s okay. really.”

you step forward, closer to them, and the girl’s tense up.

“it is a shame that you can’t share me though,” you boldly suggest, surprised by your own confidence, but you knew that they wanted you. they certainly weren’t discreet during the game.

‘holy shit.’

abby’s jaw drops slightly and ellie pauses before slowly saying, “share?”

you take a step closer, looking back and forth between them, “yeah. share.”

abby turns to ellie, and in that moment, maybe for the first time, they’re on the same page.

“i wouldn’t mind sharing you,” abby responds, her voice soft and low.

ellie nods, taking a step closer to you, “i’m good with sharing too,” she quickly supplies.

a slow smile spreads over you face, your eyes sparkling as you press yourself against ellie.

“well then… feel like sharing me right now?”

abby laughs a little to herself at the lunacy of this situation, but she can’t say that she’s not already wet just from this conversation alone, so abby nods.

“fuck yeah i do,” ellie says enthusiastically before kissing you.

abby watches as ellie kisses you, and the fire in her stomach is a mix of lust and envy.

ellie’s hands are gripping your hips as she presses you more into her. you run your tongue over her bottom lip and she moans, letting you into her mouth.

you feel a warm pressure against your back and you realize that it’s abby.

“my turn, williams,” abby says, her hands gliding over your waist.

you break the kiss with ellie, and her pupils are dilated, her lips plump and wet with spit. “fuck.”

abby spins you around towards her and doesn’t waste any time before kissing you, her arms wrapping around you.

you feel ellie’s hands roaming as you and abby kiss, and feel ellie’s pelvis pressing against your ass. it takes you a moment for you to realize that she’s grinding herself against it, and the idea makes your underwear more soaked than it already was. abby nips at your bottom lip and you moan into her mouth.

ellie’s hands come down to palm and squeeze your ass.

“you’re fucking perfect,” ellie murmurs, still humping your ass like a bitch in heat.

you pull back from abby to take off your shirt, leaving you in your jeans and bra.

abby starts kissing your neck and chest as ellie unclasps your bra, helping you take it off. as soon as it’s off, ellie’s hands reach around you to squeeze your breasts.

“jesus christ…” ellie whispers, rolling your nipples between her thumb and index finger as you moan softly.

abby breath is coming heavier as she manhandles you to sit on one of the benches in the locker room. you don’t resist at all, completely ready for whatever comes next.

abby motions to ellie as she kneels between your legs, “come on, there’s one for each of us,” as she latches onto your nipple, sucking and squeezing one of your breasts.

ellie quickly goes beside abby, your legs spread as wide as they can with the two girls between them. ellie licks over your other nipple and blows on it, getting it hard.

“so fucking cute-“ ellie says before suckling your breast as well, her eyes closed as she moans in the back of her throat.

you look down, and your clit is pulsing against the seam of your jeans as you watch both girls latched onto your breast.

ellie pulls back, watching abby suck on your breast with flushed cheeks. abby notices that ellie is watching her and she pulls back to see what’s up. as soon as she does, ellie pulls her into a heated kiss.

you’re mesmerized as the two girls kiss each other aggressively, ellie’s hands coming up to tug on abby’s hair. abby moans as she gropes ellie’s small chest through her shirt. when they detach, ellie stands up, her eyes sparkling.

“i have an idea,” ellie says as she goes over to her backpack, rummaging around through it until she pulls out a satin, black bag. she opens it and pulls out a purple strap-on.

abby laughs a little, “williams, why the fuck do you casually have a strap in your backpack? do you bring that to every game or something?”

ellie’s face goes red, “fuck you. i like to be prepared, it’s not my fault you don’t have bitches. besides, are you complaining?”

abby snorts, “no, i guess i’m not.”

ellie takes off her shirt and pants, leaving her sports bra on as she puts on the strap. “anderson, lie down on the ground.”

too everyone’s surprise, abby follows ellie’s order.

“good girl.” ellie motions to you, “and you, take off your jeans and sit on her face, okay?”

you nod quickly, stripping completely naked before crawling onto abby. you look into your eyes, “you okay with this?”

abby nods eagerly, “very okay.”

you grin and situate yourself over her face, and you don’t have any warning before abby’s strong arms wrap around your thighs and pull you down so you’re fully sitting on her face.

you moan involuntarily as abby’s tongue laps over your wet cunt, completely vulgar noises coming from her mouth with a muffled, “you taste fucking incredible-“

ellie watches as abby pleasures you, and she rubs the base of the strap against her clit as she admires the two of you.

abby starts sucking on your clit and you moan loud, your eyes rolling back into your head. ellie approaches you two, watching abby eat you out.

ellie kneels down behind you, pressing her chest to your bare back, “wanna try and take me, baby?”

you nod eagerly, “please.”

ellie doesn’t need anyone confirmation before slipping two fingers into your pussy, curling them as abby suckles your clit. you moan loudly, your breaths heavy.

“so fuckin’ tight… you’re gonna feel fucking incredible on my cock, baby, i promise-“ ellie says as she takes out her fingers, sucking them clean, “fuck, abby wasn’t lying, you taste good.”

ellie positions her strap, rubbing the tip over your folds to tease you a little. you whimper, and that’s about all ellie can take before slipping the strap into you. you’re now on your hands and knees, with abby below you still at work on your clit, and ellie behind you as she starts thrusting into you.

“that pretty pussy is so fucking desperate for us, huh?” ellie says, her core tight as she grips your hips.

you moan at that, nodding, intense pleasure coursing through your body.

ellie laughs a little, thrusting harder, “do you have any fucking idea what you did to us out there, pretty girl? fucking distracting us- so fucking sexy-“ ellie pants, her eyes rolling back as she gets the friction she needs on her clit.

your orgasm is rapidly approaching, your body overwhelmed with stimulation. “i-i’m gonna-“

you nearly scream as you climax, your legs shaking with pleasure as you writhe around. ellie watches with a big grin on her face, fucking you as hard and as fast as she can through it.

when you come down, abby lifts you off her face with ease, “my turn.”

ellie takes off the strap and passes it to ellie, “oh, think you can fuck her better?”

abby huffs a laugh, “i know i can, williams.”

abby puts on the strap and strips off her clothes, keeping you in doggy as ellie come’s around in front of your face. ellie takes off her sports bra and boxers, sitting in front of your and spreading her legs, exposing strings of her arousal between her thighs, her auburn bush soaked in pre-cum.

you waste no time before diving in, your tongue lapping up her juices. ellie grunts and her hands fly to your head, keeping you in place, “jesus fucking christ-“

abby takes this moment to lick your cunt up from behind, tasting your cum from your previous orgasm before lining the strap up with your entrance and thrusting in deep without warning.

you moan into ellie’s pussy, and thrust your tongue down her entrance before replacing it with two fingers. ellie moans again, her eyes squeezing shut.

ellie fucked you relentlessly and hard, making you see stars, but abby fucks you like she’s trying to savor every moment, her eyes locked on your pussy as it stretches around the strap.

“you were made to take this dick, oh my god,” abby moans, thrusting deep and slow.

ellie starts whimpering as you suck on her clit, thrusting your fingers hard into her.

abby laughs a little at ellie’s reaction, never having seen ellie so docile.

“awww, you just needed to get your shitty attitude fucked out of you, huh, williams?”

ellie can barely respond, her head tilted back as you pleasure her, her stomach muscles trembling.

abby starts fucking you a little faster, wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.

“can you give me one, princess? i don’t wanna be left out…” abby says, her chest pressed against your back as she fucks you.

every time you moan against ellie’s clit, still sucking it, and it sends delicious vibrations through it, amplifying ellie’s pleasure and making her tip over the edge, crying out as she climaxes.

you work ellie through her climax, despite your 2nd impending climax building in your lower belly.

as soon as she’s done, ellie stands up and moves behind abby, running her hands all over abby’s body.

abby moans as ellie plays with her nipple, her other hand coming down to squeeze abby’s ass before slipping a finger into abby’s cunt as abby fucks you.

abby moans unexpectedly, “fucking christ- more, elllie-“

ellie grins and slips in another finger, pumping her fingers in time with abby’s thrusts, curling them up each time ellie’s fingers bottom out.

abby’s pants come quicker, rubbing your clit faster. just as you’re sent into your next orgasm, abby cries out, fucking herself into you as she cums on ellie’s fingers.

when you both come down, abby slowly slips out of you, sitting on the cold locker room floor and leaning against ellie as abby pulls you into her lap.

“feeling okay?” abby asks as ellie brushes your hair out of your sweaty face.

you laugh weakly, still panting, “much better than okay.”

both girls giggle a little at that, and ellie asks with a cocky smirk, “so… who fucked you better?”

abby elbows ellie and ellie rolls her eyes, rubbing her arm.

you smirk a little and say, “hmmm… it was hard to tell. maybe we’ll have to do this again sometime to repeat the study, y’know?”

abby grins as ellie laughs, squeezing your thigh.

“well, in that case, we have to. in the name of accurate results. science, even.” ellie says as she settles in to abby’s side.

abby laughs this time, one arm wrapping around ellie’s bare shoulders, “damn, i guess we do.”

[beautifulgaggedgirls]

When someone puts your hands into some fist mitts. They just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t go picking locks again or start untying knots or undoing belts or a gag.

[justbreakonme]

Signs of Change

Whumpee didn’t like it, when the seasons started to change. It still made him uneasy, knowing just how cold the nights could get and just how precarious his position could be. He was only safe as long as he was good, and the outdoors had no mercy.

But Caretaker did.

“Hey, Whumpee, why don’t you come in here? It’s warmer, since the stove’s going.” Caretaker’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he obeyed.

When he rounded the corner into the kitchen, the warmth enveloped him immediately. There was a large, silver soup pot boiling away on the stove, and the smell of onion and garlic and herbs and all sorts of things instantly made his mouth water.

“It needs to simmer for a bit longer, I think. Do you want to come sit with me?”

Whumpee nodded, and took a seat where he always did, across from Caretaker at the old wooden table.

“Not a talking day, huh?”

He shook his head, rubbing a fist in a circle over his chest.

Sorry.

“It’s fine, you’re good. I just like to check-in so I know.”

Whumpee couldn’t ever explain why sometimes words just, failed him. But, after his old owner, after being silent for so long, he sometimes felt…stuck.

“Do you feel like playing cards? I think we have enough time for a round of war…”

Whumpee nodded, dutifully turning to grab the cards from the little shelf in the corner. He liked cards. War was the first game they had played together, back when he’d first been bought rescued.

Caretaker had made it very clear that he wasn’t owned, anymore.

But he hoped maybe, maybe if he was really, really good, he could be. He had tried, once, to ask what he could do, if anything, to earn being owned again, but, the words had died in his mouth and he’d gone silent for days.

He understood why they didn’t want to own him, he wasn’t really worth very much. But, sometimes, he let himself believe that between him trying his very hardest and Caretakers inexplicable mercy, there might be a chance. Someday.

Caretaker handed him a stack of cards, and he brought the tips of his fingers to his chin, hand open and palm towards himself, then moved his hand out in front of him, almost in a swinging motion.

Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” Caretaker smiles as they play their first card, and he follows suit.

The game goes by quickly, and soon, the oven timer went off, making them both jump.

“Here, we’ll just scoot these over a bit and we can play while we eat. Would you grab the spoons?”

He nodded, carefully moving his pile of cards to the side and heading for the silverware drawer.

As Caretaker ladled out the soup, he placed a spoon at each of their spots, then, unsure if he should sit or wait for the next task, he hovered between the drawer and the table, wringing his hands.

As they turned to grab the bowls, they noticed his hesitation. “Go ahead and sit, I’ll bring the bowls over.”

Another tap-then-outward gesture of thanks, and he sat back down, watching as they carefully ladled out two bowls of steaming soup.

Carefully, they carried one bowl at a time to the table, oven mitts on.

“Ooh- don’t try to hold it, it’s super hot.” Caretaker dodged where Whumpee had tried to help set the bowl down, instead opting to set it down on the edge and scoot it over so it didn’t spill.

He rubbed his fist over his chest in a circle again, more frantic this time.

Sorry, sorry!

“You’re good, I just didn’t want you to burn yourself,” they returned to the table with their own bowl, tossing the oven mitts onto the spare chair after settling in, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

He tried to mimic Caretaker, who was blowing gently on their soup, but the lump in his throat got in the way.

He wished, as he often did, that he could speak without speaking, in more ways than literally. He wished he could make them know things.

If he was patient and waited for his voice to return, or if he went to get one of the whiteboards Caretaker kept laying around for him, he could tell him that he would do anything for them. That they had his loyalty and devotion, his mind, body, and soul.

But he couldn’t make them know it the way he did. It snuck up on him, in moments like these, then hit like a tsunami.

His stillness must have caught their attention because they looked up. “You okay?”

He nodded, swallowing hard and smiling, then gave a timid thumbs up.

You don’t own me, but, I belong to you.

They grinned, giving him a thumbs up back, and another tsunami took his breath away.

But, that was fine. He’d let the soup cool on its own, and they would play cards, and for the first time in a very long while, he was able to forget the changing seasons and the morning frost.

It couldn’t touch him here.

Caretaker wouldn’t let it.

[ghouljams]

Watching the Redwings v Avalanche brawl and thinking Hockey au thoughts. KorTac and SpecGru having the most batshit rivalry in the league, every match is a gongshow. Nearly a year ago Graves bowled over Soap while he was making his way to the bench and he's been stewing over it ever since.

Soap slams into Graves, knocking him off his feet and onto the ice. He throws an extra punch to his helmet for good measure. It's all the prompting Graves needs to grab Soap around the shoulders and throw his own haymaker. The game shoots by them, the cameras following the other players as they attempt to get past Ghost's goal. Soap grabs Graves and wrestles him to the ice, ditching his mitts to grab Graves' sweater and slam their helmets together. The refs rush over and attempt to pull them apart, but not before Gaz hops the bench to throw his stick at the nearest KorTac forward.

The ice descends into chaos as Gaz punches the KorTac player curled in on themselves on the ice. Ghost rushes from the goal to try and pry Gaz away from the fight and is slammed into by König. König pulls Ghost away from Gaz, away from his fellow player, and punches him square in the face, his fist only stopped by the grate of Ghost's helmet. A helmet Ghost immediately discards in favor of attempting to beat the shit out of the other team's Goliath.

The announcers are living for it, calling out haymakers and hooks like it's a boxing match not a hockey game. Ghost holds König by the hair, driving his fist into the poor guy's nose. Gaz wrestles his player on the ice, while Gaves gets ushered into the locker room, and the refs struggle to pull two giants apart.

Penalties abound while Soap spits a tooth onto the ice and Ghost gets the blood wiped off his face by the team manager. Gaz yells at KorTac's bench and one of them punches the glass between them. Someone throws a stick, someone else breaks it. Price yells at KorTac's manager to control his team and gets flipped off, yanks his headset off to go attempt his own brawl.

Nobody cares about winning. This is personal.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Mantis Mitts
Wondrous item, rare (requires attunement) ___ These bulky mitts magically increase the swiftness of your punches to supersonic speeds; punching with them creates a momentary vacuum behind each strike. The mitts are coated with a rainbow iridescence that shifts between a full spectrum of colors. While wearing the mitts, you gain a +1 bonus to the attack and damage rolls of your unarmed strikes using your fists, which use a d6 in place of the normal damage of your unarmed strikes (unless it's already higher). A target hit with them takes thunder damage, instead of bludgeoning damage. If you're underwater, the damage die is a d8 and deals fire damage, which isn't reduced as a result of being underwater. In addition, the reach of your unarmed strikes is increased by 5 feet (provided you're using your fists), or 10 feet if you're underwater. You don't suffer the negative effects of underwater combat when you make an attack using the mitts. When you roll a 20 on an attack roll for an unarmed strike using your fists while wearing the mitts, the target must also succeed on a DC 15 Wisdom saving throw or become affected by the "hypnotic pattern" spell. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[pangur-and-grim]

I love Wednesday's huge chunky fist. A mitt. A glove. He's boxing.

Wednesday is a cankle boy, there is no narrowing of his wrists!

[johnwickb1tsch]

Young!John Wick x Model!Reader Imagine

masterlist

deux

-Nearly a year goes by before you meet again in a club in London. You are celebrating Sebastiano’s sold-out Spring collection with some friends when he appears at your side by the railing overlooking the dance floor. You were wearing a crimson red slip dress by Yves Saint Laurent. He gets your attention by running his fingers ever so lightly down your bare spine. You’ve had a few drinks, and when you turn to see it’s him you are too overjoyed to play it cool. You mould yourself against him, and he happily folds you into his arms. Everyone else in the room melts away when your lips touch his. “I missed you.”

Your career did take off after that fateful week in Paris. Your face can be seen on ads for everything from makeup to clothing and sexy underthings. You’ve met so many people and gone so many places in this whirlwind of a year, but you never forgot about your tall dark stranger from Paris, and you never stopped longing for him.

“Likewise,” he tells you with a close-lipped smile that still brings a melting warmth to his dark eyes. You convince him to dance a little with you before you retreat to a dark booth in the corner to make out. You wish you could blame the drinks, but you know you are just absolutely drunk on him, his soft lips on your mouth and your skin. His hair has grown longer, and you love grabbing fistfuls of it as you kiss. It does not even occur to you to protest when his hand slides under your skirt, pushing your panties aside to slip his long fingers inside you, his thumb on your clit bringing you to paradise. You moan your pleasure into his mouth, and you feel his lips curve in a smile against yours.

“You are so beautiful, y/n.”

You hear that a lot. It’s kind of your job, after all. It’s never meant so much to you, as when he says it to you.

You reach for his belt, as though you aren’t in a public venue, desperate to touch him. But he catches your hands in his, dwarfing your little mitts in his calloused ones. “Where are you staying?” he asks.

“The Ritz.” You’ve moved up a bit in the world.

“Can I meet you there in an hour?”

For a moment you’re confused. “You want me to leave?”

He nods, looking around the room. There is something sharp in his gaze now. Something almost predatory. “You should.”

“Why?”

“Please? For me?”

“Okay…”

You do as he asks, because the thought of having him all to yourself in your ridiculously opulent hotel room is far more appealing than the crowded too-loud club. But in the back of your mind you know there’s something off.

There’s a knock on your door exactly at the hour. You pause for a long moment to look at him in the doorway, so tall and darkly handsome, his high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes that are filled with a smoldering warmth just for you. Greedily you pull him into the room, your trepidation forgotten. But there’s a speck of something red on the front of his stark white shirt. Before you can examine it further he literally sweeps you off your feet. “What would you say to a bubble bath?”

You think it’s a fine idea.

-Six months later you see John again in Rome, at a party with Sebastiano at the villa of an insanely rich Italian family. The D’Antonios, you think is their name? The elder sister, Gianna, loves Seb’s designs and buys a lot of his pieces. You’re not entirely sure how they made their money. Imports, is the party line. You are learning in this world of high-powered people that’s code for don’t ask. There’s no room to worry about such things in the fashion world. Seb makes clothes for People With Money, and he says it’s not his job to worry about how they got it. You are still naïve enough in all your youth that that is good enough for you.

A proud young man is trying to chat you up on the balcony overlooking a magnificent garden. He claims he’s the descendent of Italian nobility. This is vaguely interesting to you, but he melts away entirely when you spy a familiar set of broad black-clad shoulders making their way through the crowd.

John brings you a glass of Prosecco, fixing the young Conte with a hard look. This is a side of John you’ve never really seen before, the rules of the jungle at play, and it seems your erstwhile lover may sit at the top of the food chain. Your suitor scurries off with a frightened look and some mumbled excuses, leaving you alone with John. When he looks at you it’s as though a switch has flipped, a roguish heat filling his dark eyes.

He hasn’t even touched you, and already your panties are drenched.

This time you manage not to lose your cool at the sight of him. “Fancy seeing you here.” You’re almost not surprised. He pays you a smile, though there is a tension in the corners of his eyes you don’t entirely understand. It isn’t long before you slip away to a room upstairs, a high-ceilinged bedroom painted with pastel frescoes of chubby putti fluttering on the ceiling. You can’t help but feel like they’re watching you as John pushes your black lace skirt by Dolce and Gabbana up your thighs, and takes you to heaven with his wickedly clever tongue.

You manage not to say it aloud, somehow, but you know as you curl against his muscled chest in the quiet afterwards that you are in love with this man.

“What happened?” you ask as you trace a long scar over the ripples of his abdomen. You can tell it was a serious wound, and the thought of him hurt like that sends ice through your veins, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. It must have taken some time to heal. Did it hurt? Had he been all alone?

“I had an accident,” he sighs, bringing your hand to his lips.

“It looks like it was painful.”

“Yeah.”

You can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, so you let it go, pressing your lips to the top of the scar in a gesture meant to soothe yourself as much as him. It’s fine. He’s fine. He is warm, and solid flesh beneath your lips, and he always comes back to you. “Poor baby.” He moans as you make your way down, tracing the raised tissue with your tongue. His fingers slide into your hair as the velvety tip of his now erect manhood brushes your chin. You take him into your mouth, circling the swollen head with your tongue, and his big hands clench in your hair.

“Fuck, y/n.”

Maybe you’re no good at getting him to talk about his life, but at least in this area you can make him come completely undone for you. It makes you feel powerful, and even if you know it’s an illusion, it’s all you have.

Later you snuggle into the warm bend of his neck, brushing your nose against the soft scruff of his beard. He holds you close with strong arms, newly marked with fresh ink on his shoulder. You don’t quite get up the courage to ask what the cross means.

You don’t take him for a religious man.  

-Later you’re sitting with your friend by the pool, painting your toenails. “Where did you disappear to last night?” 

“I left with someone,” you answer vaguely. 

“I hope your hookup was better than mine. I would sacrifice a goat to find one man who knows where my fucking clitoris is.”

You press your lips, thinking about your scintillating evening with John, and the way he somehow took exactly what he wanted, but brought you to heights of pleasure you never knew existed before him. You shudder with the memory, lost in your own world for a few long seconds. Later you realize she is watching you. “Jesus, y/n. That good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

“Are you going to see him again?” she asks slyly. 

You shrug, because you want to, but don't know how. This is the third time you've trysted with this man, and you still have no way of contacting him. You wonder if this is the way it will always be…

-This goes on for years. In Paris and New York, Milan and Madrid, Oslo and LA he makes love to you before disappearing again. As usual, you are left with more questions than answers, but the tenderness in your kiss-swollen lips and the ache between your thighs keeps you from demanding to know where he goes in the agonizing interim between. In a way, in the very back dungeon of your mind, you already know. You take an accounting of his new scars with your lips and your tongue every time you see him. Always, they multiply, and you have watched as a certain hardness settles over his features, that only softens for you. You're not stupid, despite the stereo types about your profession. But that man... you would follow him to hell itself, if he offered you his hand. 

-Luckily you have plenty to keep you busy. You’ve started taking photos more than being on the other side of the lens, and your work is well-received. You know that your initial fame and the public’s fascination with you helps that along, but hey. That’s just the game, and you’ve learned to play it well.

-Then, an entire year goes by without seeing hide nor hair of John. In the early days of your acquaintance you can’t say you were exactly celibate, but over the years you lost interest in any one’s arms but his. Not seeing him for so long hurts like a blade twisting between your ribs.

It’s always been up to him when you meet up, but this time you decide to take things into your own hands...

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&lt;<PART 1 PART 3>>