#he will punish you for disobeying a direct order (and punishment can be a little harsh but nothing you can't handle i promise)

[madhatterbri]

Filling | D.M.

Summary: A pie isn't the only thing that gets filled. 18+.

Authors Note: Happy first day of fall, y'all.

Drew McIntyre Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @keytothewardy @magicalbuttertarts @new-zealand-chic

Drew stopped in his tracks the moment he saw Y/N in the kitchen. The flannel he wore the night before covered her top. Short pajama bottoms barely covered her ass. The woman was trying to kill him. He just knew it.

"Morning," Drew greeted. He walked towards her. A bowl of pie filling laid before her. He moved her hair to the other side and kissed her neck. A shiver ran down her spine.

"Good morning, yourself," she hummed. His hands slid underneath the flannel shirt. Rough hands tickled her soft skin.

"I have got to say. The shirt looks a lot better on you than me," he commented. Y/N felt the shirt raise higher. The Scottish devil was trying to get a repeat of last night.

"And it will be staying on me," she informed him. Y/N swatted his hands away. He pouted yet pulled away from her. She turned around and sat on the kitchen counter. "Can you hand me a spoon, please? I want to try some to see if I need to add anything?"

Drew grabbed a wooden spoon. He scooped some of the filling in the spoon. The wrestler moved to serve her. She opened her mouth early to taste the sweet treat. Accidentally, as Drew insisted, some of the cool filling fell down on her chest.

She gasped and looked down. "Can I have a napkin, please?"

Drew had another idea.

He gripped the flannel shirt and ripped it open. She squeaked as her chest was now exposed to him. When she didn't hide herself, he leaned down and licked the filling slowly. His skilled tongue licked lower to her nipple. He sucked her nipple. Teeth grazed over the sensitive peak.

"Drew," she moaned. She clenched her legs. The tingling between her legs was a direct reaction from his teasing. He started to kiss up her chest and to her neck. His hand gripped her neck. His lips teased the shell of her ear.

"You cost me my flannel. I feel like this warrants a punishment. Bend over the counter and don't make me repeat myself,"

Drew took a step back. She slid off the counter. The wooden spoon fiddled in his fingers. He wanted her to know his instrument of the punishment. Timidly, she turned around and bent over. Her open palms and bare chest pressed against the cool countertop. Her face turned to the side in order to count.

His hands rubbed up her inner thighs. Her legs parted wider as his hands explored higher. The spot between her legs tingled more for him. He was so close to touching her, but he pulled away. She knew better than to show any signs of disapproval. It would just add to the punishment.

His fingers found their way to her shorts waistband and panties. With bent fingers, little effort was used to slide them down her legs. They pooled at her bare feet. She knew better than to kick them away.

"Maybe now you will learn to ask for permission to borrow my clothes. I expect to see you in that flannel for the rest of the day," he told her. She nodded and blushed darkly. His hands found their way on her bare ass.

He kneaded into her flesh. The massage started to calm her nerves. She visibly relaxed. His distraction worked in his favor. The wooden spoon struck her right cheek. She gasped and bit her lip. The wooden spoon left a red line and a nice sting.

"One,"

Drew smiled at the count. She was such a good girl for him. Well, when she wanted to be. He paced each smack of the wooden spoon. Some were in quick succession while others were spaced apart. Drew didn't want her to expect the spanks. Nonetheless, she counted each one to his liking.

"This hurt me more than it hurt you," he attempted to assure her. Drew placed the spoon down in front of her face. This is a reminder of what was to come if she disobeyed. His hands rubbed her bare ass once more. A hiss fell out of Y/N. She wanted to move from his touch. Her breath sucked in when his hands explored lower.

His middle finger slid ever so slowly between her slit. His hand rubbed up and down. Another finger, his ring finger, joined in the teasing. He spread her lips apart before allowing them to close several times. Her juices covered his fingers.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered. A soft slap to her bottom to show the urgency in following his simple order. No hesitation when the message was read loud and clear. Her wrists lay on top of one another on her back.

The same two fingers toyed with her once more. This time, they found their way to her entrance. He teased her. Only allowing up to his fingernails inside of her. Her walls clenched around them to keep him in. Y/N closed her eyes to keep from getting frustrated. Drew loved when she was patient.

With no warning, his fingers slid inside of her. She sighed in relief. Her walls clamped down around his fingers. Drew thrusted his fingers in and out. Her hips pushed back against him as if to allow him to go deeper. He showed mercy this time. Her actions went on without risk of punishment.

Her breathy moans started to pick up. No matter the situation, her body craved his touch. Drew curled his fingers. A whine of his name filled the cabin kitchen.

"Oh, Drew,"

Satisfied, he removed his fingers. Y/N caught her breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for his next plan. Unable to see him, the rustling of the clothes was the only indicator of what was to come. His jeans were kicked away once they pulled around his feet.

The Scotsman rubbed her hips and outer thighs. The tender moment cut short when he placed her bent leg on the countertop. He reveled at the sight of her. She was so exposed to him. All for him.

Drew wasted little time. She jerked slightly when he pushed himself inside of her. Her eyes opened. Their breathing picked up. He went slow. This was a punishment for her, after all. He allowed himself in a little at a time before pulling out. An amused smirk on his handsome face. Y/N was frustrated yet didn't dare to say anything.

Showing mercy, he thrusted all the way in. His pelvis smacked against her ass. He repeated this a few times before picking up the pace. With her hands still behind her back, he gripped her wrists in his hand. His other hand was placed on the counter behind her head for better leverage.

Her body clamped around him the moment he picked up his pace. He swore he saw her eyes roll to the back of her head. She swore she saw stars. When he thrusted forward, Drew pulled her towards him. With her leg propped up, she swore he reached places no man had before.

"My good little baker. Baking a pie for our friends for later. If only they could see you now," he chuckled. Her mouth hung open, eyes rolled, toes curled, and a thin sheet of sweat covered her body. She nodded. His words sounded so far away.

"So close," she warned.

"I've got you, love," he assured her.

Drew's eyes roamed over her body again. When she first suggested a cabin for the weekend, he was a little perplexed. After last night and this morning, he could see her reasoning. No cell service. No distractions. Just the two of them catching up from his busy work schedule.

He let go of her wrists. She moved them away and rolled them around gently. The position made her a little stiff. His now free hand roamed by rubbing her back, butt, and settling to the bundle of nerves between her legs.

Y/N cursed as her orgasm seemed to come at a much quicker pace. His skilled fingers manipulated her to her peak. His thrusts grew sloppier as time went on.

"Drew!"

With one last cry of his name, Y/N comes on his cock. Her fingernails left crescent moon indents in her palns. He thrusted himself fully one last time and stilled. His cum filling inside of her. Never allowing himself to finish first, he placed both his hands on the counter.

Her legs shook under her. She would be on the floor if it wasn't for the countertop and Drew. When ready, he pulled himself out of her. The tell-tale sign of their dirty deed rolls down her thighs. He grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped away the evidence.

With a secure arm around her waist, he helps her off the counter. Her body is sore from the position, but she is satisfied. Her bare back pressed to his bare chest. He whispers sweet nothings in her ear. Soft, gentle kisses left on her cheek.

He spun her around and sat her on the countertop. Their foreheads pressed together. Drew is still trying to gather enough strength to take them to the bathroom to bathe. He kissed her gently. His fingers ran through her hair before nestling any loose strands behind her ear.

When enough time passed, he scooped her up in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Legs were wrapped around his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder. Before drifting off to sleep, she looked at the counter. The bowl of filling left temporarily forgotten on the counter.

[ladyempty]

"Do you think you can just deny me? No, the answer is no"

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life.| ° | pairing: Yan!Maegor Targaryen, o cruel x Wife! Reader ° | !English is not my first language!|

You were certainly a cursed woman for arousing the almost immediate interest of the cruel king after his bloodthirsty ascension to the throne.

Maegor already had three wives at that time, two wives he liked and one he despised with increasing hatred.

But you were different, it was an overwhelming feeling that caught you off guard in the first contacts.

There was something fascinating to the king in his every little gesture and movement. Her so easily adorable personality and impeccable looks.

So this was love? This flame that burns without being seen? That feeling he despised when bards sang softly on banquettes and celebrations, and now it had taken over his body.

Already convinced of the strength of his feelings, the king did not delay in a proper court, he thought he had already made his obvious interest clear. The king's way of showing interest was something... Peculiar... Certainly constantly chasing you, ordering guards to follow you and always so fixedly analyzing your slightest movement, it wasn't the most gallant way.

In any case, the engagement was not long in consideration, with Maegor coldly threatening you father:

"I will have your hand beheaded or I will have your daughter's hand in marriage" His tone was as cold as the blade of his sword held firmly at his hip.

The wedding was only in Valerian traditions, the king's warm crimson blood mingling with his own and the taste of copper on his lips.

Maegor would never stoop to marrying in the faith of the seven. An action that only caused more chaos and anger from the religious.

The wedding night was certainly not a fairy tale. The king was focused on creating an heir and finally freely exploring his body. His touches were rough, strong and not at all gentle.

You better not consider moontea...

As a husband, Maegor is not the kindest. His displays of affection are not delicate and he does not demonstrate his love through words at all.

But compared to his treatment of other people, he is much softer on you.

He will still punish you if you disobey his numerous and strict rules.

Jealous and possessive are an understatement to describe feelings and behavior. You are His in every aspect of the word. Your body and soul belong to him and him alone. And not even his other wives have the right to take their You attention away from him. Your world should revolve around him the same way his world revolves around you.

Maegor is simply crazy about you, he loves you in a way he's never loved anyone else, even if it was in a distorted way, he doesn't want anyone to get close to you, touch you or even breathe and look in your direction. Anyone who approaches you will regret it bitterly when the blade of your sword pierces the person's neck without mercy.

He admired strength... But you couldn't get hurt, he liked your bravery, but there is no way he will allow you to get hurt. Never.

Maegor will not change your reason if you don't trust him. He will even think you are smart. For a while. After your patience runs out, he will simply demand your complete trust in him.

"I am your lord husband, who is more deserving of your trust than me?"

And things only got worse after Alys's deformed stillbirth...

Tyanna's whispers in her ear about infidelity and the child being nothing more than a bastard only served to increase her paranoia. The mere thought of you cheating on him was enough to make him simply lose his mind.

He imprisoned you in your private chambers, no one was allowed to enter unless authorized by the king. Guards guarded the door to his quarters.

Then, in an act of desperation, Maegor took three wives at once. But all three had deformed stillbirths just like Alys… Tyanna had lied and the king simply didn't know what else to do. He was desperate for the first time in his life.

But like a ray of light... Were you pregnant? For the first time in almost decades... Maegor smiled widely.

[fettuccin-e]

Learn Your Lesson

Kinktober Day 6: Bondage

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, bondage, dom!miguel, unprotected piv, stoplight system established, degradation, punishment with sex, oral and fingering (f!recieving), dirty talk because i can't help myself, overstimulation, miguel being hot angry and feral (w/c: 1.1K)

A/N: teehee dom Miguel make brain go brrr (For this month, I am using this list from flightlessangelwings!)

You'd fucked yourself over on the last mission, disobeying Miguel’s direct orders, running straight into the line of fire. You’d gotten shot in the process, and though you’d healed just fine, Miguel hasn’t let you forget it. He hasn’t forgotten that you have to be punished for it.

He’s got you at his mercy, just how he likes it. Just how you like it, though you’ll never admit it to him, the cocky bastard.

Your arms ache with how they’ve been forced above you, Miguel’s webs pinning you to the wall, helpless and free to use just as he likes. Which apparently means making you cum until you cry, over and over, even as you beg him for mercy. His knees must hurt, they must, with how long he’s spent kneeling on the hard wooden floor, but it’s like he doesn’t care.

His claws dig into your thighs, not breaking the skin, but sending sparks of pain along your body. And God, the little bit of pain is nothing like the violent pleasure that rips through your body. He licks into your pussy like he’s starving for it, shoving his tongue as far as he can inside you. It’s not enough, it’s clear that it’s not enough for him as he snarls, hiking one of your thighs over his shoulder, spreading you wider for him as he eats your cunt desperately.

There’s nothing you can do but take it, unable to escape, wrap your fingers into his hair, anything. 

“Miguel, fuck, please,” you whine as he licks into you, his nose digging into your clit. You don’t know if he’s ever going to stop at this point. You’re so wet, your slick and his spit smeared all over the insides of your thighs, all over his mouth. You feel him smile between your legs, and you want to smack him.

He takes a hand off your thigh to sink two deliciously thick fingers into your pussy, stretching you out as he gazes up at you. Fuck, he’s pretty. His hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat and your cum, his pupils blown wide as he pants between your thighs.

“What do you need, hermosa?” He rasps beneath you, working his fingers into you so deep, so perfect. His hands are so thick, so big, you wonder how you ever lived without them.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, your hips grinding into his hand. “Please fuck me, oh shit-” He manages to find the perfect and to grind the tips of his fingers into your g-spot, and your vision goes blurry for a moment with the pleasure of it all. 

“Oh, mi amor, not yet,” he murmurs. “You’ve got a lesson to learn, baby. Fucking disobeying me in front of everyone, throwing yourself into danger.” He pulls his fingers out of you to land a mean slap to your aching clit, and you wail. “I can’t let that go, sweetheart,” he mutters, and shoves a third finger inside of you along with the first two, stretching you so fucking wide. 

He leans forward, sealing your clit between his lips and sucking, and you can only gasp, not making a sound, as you cum again. You grind into his face as much as you can in this position, practically smothering him in your pussy as you ride it out. Miguel moans like he fucking loves it, playing with your clit with his tongue, his fingers pounding into your pussy at a near furious pace.

Your wrists pull fruitlessly at the webs binding them together, but Miguel doesn’t let up. It’s like he can’t, drowning himself between your legs.

He’s talking, muffled into your skin, but you can hear him, little gasps of “tastes so fucking good,” and “fuck, she’s clenching so fucking tight for me.” Whether he’s talking to you or to himself, you’re not really sure.

“Fuck me, please, please, fuck me,” you babble, frantic for it. You hardly feel human anymore, your body trembling against the wall, desperate for him to finally get up off the fucking floor and fuck you like only he can.

And finally, finally, it’s like Miguel hears you. He snarls through his fangs, his eyes going red around the edges, as he rises off the ground. He towers over you, even as you’re lifted off the ground by his webs, every bit the predator everyone believes him to be. 

It makes your pussy gush between your thighs. 

He pulls your thighs around his hips with clawed hands, yanking you forward onto his thick cock. He slides in so easily, your cunt practically sucking him in. He hammers into you without remorse, without mercy, and you can’t help how hot tears begin to fall down your cheeks at his onslaught.

“Fucking. Needy. Slut.” He snarls it through his fangs, punctuating each word with a violent thrust that has you gasping for air. “Can’t even take your fucking punishment like a good girl, begging me to fuck you like a whore.”

You wish that you could claw at his back, pull him into a kiss, but there’s nothing you can do. You can only let out choked moans as Miguel fucks you like a monster, using you like a toy, the pull in your arms making you feel like you’re a livewire, strung up and electrified.

He drives into your g-spot like a man possessed, making your head spin and your vision swim with overwhelmed tears. “We’re not done, baby, do you hear me?” He murmurs into your ear. “I’m going to fill this needy pussy up, just like you wanted.” You keen, nodding frantically, and Miguel chuckles, dark with promise. “And then I’ll get right back down between your legs, and eat this cunt until you’re begging me to stop. You’re going to learn your goddamn place.”

It’s so overwhelming, he’s so overwhelming, and you can’t fucking take it anymore. Your mouth gapes open, soundless, your eyes clenching shut as you clench and gush around his cock.

A sick sense of victory runs through your veins though, when Miguel groans, tucking his head into your neck as his hips still, filling you up so fucking perfect. You quake against him, held against his strong, warm body.

He presses a gentle kiss to your throat. “What’s your color, mi amor?” He whispers softly, and you feel your mind come back to you, just a little bit, with the question.

“Green,” you murmur, and you can feel Miguel’s feral grin as he pulls back to look at you, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing the breath from your lungs. You try to chase his lips as he pulls away, sinking to his knees all over again.

“You still have a lesson to learn, hermosa.”

[coryosbaby]

subby himbo!ethan?

He’s smart in school, but other than that the boy is actually incredibly dumb :((

It surprises you, really. He’s your precious little smart boy, but the moment he needs to fix your sink or another appliance in the house he’s incredibly clueless </3 and not just with that, with other tasks as well. Cooking, especially! The boy is so frustrated because he just can’t do anything right! But you make him feel better by giving him soft kisses on his face and telling him it’s okay.

Another thing is how dumb he is when it comes to following directions. The poor boy never keeps still when your hands are on him, just wants to be as close to his momma as possible. But when the moment arises that he disobeys your orders and starts whining, you teach him to shut up by using his mouth. He doesn’t get to cum, either; he may be a little stupid, but he knows what his punishments are. And the next day when he’s still all wet and achy from not getting his orgasm, he makes you cum over and over again and then gives you those pretty doe eyes. And who are you to resist? So when the time arises you lay him down on the bed and wrap yourself around him.

One thing you need to know about himbos, by the way, is that what they don’t make up for in the brain, they make up for in their pants! So whenever you pull out his hard cock and put your mouth to it, it’s just so thick and long. It’s hard for you to put your lips around it :(( but you manage. And when it fills you up it creates a large bulge in your tummy. Whenever Ethan looks down and sees it poking against you, he coats your insides with his cum and starts crying out for you to hold him closer to you :(( he’s just so needy, and you let him suck your tits while he still rests inside you, just so he can feel comforted. And every time, you’ll always whisper sweet words into his ear while his eyes become droopy and soft.

“There’s my good boy. I know, I know. You love mommy, don’t you? I love you too, baby. I love you so much.”

and then once he’s calmed down, he’ll slip out of you and pull himself against your nude body. he loves your warmth, and he always likes being the little spoon because it makes him feel protected and safe.

“I’m sorry I was being bad, mommy.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you don’t mean to be. You’re just an airhead sometimes, and that’s okay.”

[slut4thebroken]

Ruin

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x reader

Summary | Jason punishes you after you disobey him.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, knifeplay, blood, cutting, brief use of guns, bondage, ruined orgasms, overstimulation, denial, pain play, sex toys, dacryphilia, hard to soft dom Jay, established relationship.

Words | 3.3 k

Notes | For reader’s suit, imagine Black Windows’s but it’s not one whole piece, it’s a top and a bottom but still in the same style. (And yes… part of this was based on a video😭)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“You disobeyed a direct order!” He seethed, slamming the front door shut. You huffed and turned around to face him with your arms crossed. 

“Well, your order was shit.” You shrugged, making his jaw clench as he exhaled through his nose. 

“If you can’t do what you’re told then you can’t work with me.” 

“You mean work for you.” You narrowed your eyes at him and he scoffed. “Why can’t you just admit that you were wrong for once and I made the right call.” Your voice started to raise again. 

“You could have died! And all because, what? Your pride?” He asked in disbelief. 

“But I didn’t!”

“Because I had to fucking save your ass!” 

You and Jason have always been too similar. A lot of the same things set you off, you’re both too cocky, care too much about your pride and ego. And you can bet that if one starts screaming, the other will too. Your anger fuels his, just like his fuels yours. 

“I’m not one of your little underlings that has to follow your every command, Jason. And if that’s what you think, you need to get your head out of your ass.” Your voice was lower now, but still full of malice. 

“You know what, princess?” He started stalking toward you but you held your ground. “I think you’ve forgotten your place. And I’m going to remind you.”

“Oh fuck off, Todd.” You watched the muscles in his jaw tense. You never call him by his last name unless he’s really pissing you off. Before you could even blink, his hand was in your hair, pulling your head back and moving you closer to him. His breath fanned your lips but you made sure to keep the scowl on your face. 

“Fuck you.” You hissed, debating if you should spit in his face or not. Instead, you grabbed a knife from your pants and held it up to his neck. He gave you an unimpressed look and then his gun was under your chin. So you used your second hand to do the same with your own gun. His grip tightened on your hair and you both just stared at each other, having a silent battle for dominance. Despite the fact that you’re both bluffing, you pressed the knife harder against his skin, watching a small bead of blood fall to his collarbone. 

“Everything you do right now I’m going to do ten times worse to you in a few minutes.” He warned, not even flinching at the blade piercing his skin. You stared at him with narrowed eyes, but you could feel your confidence and dominance start to break— the submissive part of you forcing its way up through the cracks. You clenched your jaw and hardened your gaze, willing it to go back down. But Jason already knew. You could tell by the way his lips were slowly curling up into a smirk. 

“Put the knife away, baby.” You ignored the butterflies from the pet name and glared at him. 

“Keep patronizing me and I’ll cut out your vocal cords.” You spat. 

“I’m sure you will, princess.” He smirked and you fucking knew he said it with that tone specifically because of what you just said. You breathed heavily as you seethed, his low laughter only fueling your anger. With a growl, you shoved his chest— you weren’t strong enough to actually move him, but he humored you by moving with the force, letting go of your hair. 

“Keep taunting me, princess and I’ll shoot you.” You pointed the gun at him, clenching your jaw. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, clearly entertained by your outburst. He was on you in a second, pushing the gun to the side and forcing the knife out of your hand, making you whimper when he bent your wrist the wrong way. Once he disarmed you, he placed a hand on your neck and quickly pushed you back until you hit the wall with a grunt. 

“You need to learn your fucking place.” He growled, squeezing your neck. 

“You’re supposed to teach me?” You scoffed, adding gasoline to the fire. Instead of reacting with anger like you thought he would, his eyes darkened and he smirked.  

“That’s right, baby. Now get your ass on the bed.” He took a step away from you and pointed his gun at your face. When you didn’t move, he cocked it, making you roll your eyes but start walking. You sat on the bed, looking up at him with a smirk. 

“Take away that gun and what are you? Just a little boy desperate for control.” The second you said it, you knew you fucked up. 

Bad. 

He glared at you for a moment and you held your breath as you waited, then he just chuckled darkly and set the gun on the nightstand. While he was there, he grabbed the handcuffs and vibrator you always keep in the drawer. You put up a fight as he handcuffed you but he overpowered you easily. To immobilize your legs, he just sat on your thighs. 

He dragged the zipper of your suit down at a tortuously slow pace. Once it was unzipped, he pulled a knife from his pants and cut your bra straight down the middle. You shouted a protest, which was ignored as he pushed the fabric to the side, exposing your breasts. 

“So soft.” He muttered absentmindedly as he trailed the tip of the knife over your chest. “So delicate…” He trailed it up to your neck then pressed down in the same place you had cut him. “So fragile.” You hissed when the blade broke the skin but showed no other reaction. 

He removed the knife and leaned down, licking a stripe up your neck, over the cut. You let out a low moan and subconsciously lifted your hands to place in his hair. The chain rattling on the headboard made him pull back with a small smirk. 

He put the tip of the knife back on your neck to continue, going up your jaw, then down your cheek before landing on your bottom lip. Your breath hitched as the skin split under the blade and once he was satisfied with the amount of blood, he removed it and leaned back down to kiss you. 

You moaned into the kiss and he groaned in response, licking his tongue into your mouth, focusing on your lip before sliding inside to meet your own. The kiss was hot and messy and almost aggressive but so entirely Jason. 

He pulled away, but immediately moved to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and dark bruises. He gave one last kiss on the cut on your neck, then sat up again. If all he was planning on doing to punish you was cut you occasionally and kiss you… well that wasn’t much of a punishment at all to be honest. You tried not to smirk at the thought. 

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” You hinted at the question you wanted to ask instead. 

“Baby, why would I talk dirty to you when I know how much you love it?” He grinned, making you frown. Instead of pouting you tried a different tactic. 

“Sounds like an excuse to be lazy. Is that also why you got the vibrator out?” You smirked, glancing at the toy on the bed. “Careful, Jay. You’re awfully close to becoming a pillow princess.”  

“Keep talking. You’re only making it worse for yourself and more fun for me.” He said smugly. 

“What’s a pillow princess gonna do?” You scoffed, still smirking. You were always terrible at knowing when to keep your mouth shut. He stared at you for a moment, then laughed quietly at your disobedience and moved between your legs. He pulled on the waistband of your pants and underwear, forcing them down your legs until they were at your ankles, where he had to quickly rip your boots off to fully remove them. Then he was back to sitting over your thighs. 

He didn’t even say anything as he picked up the vibrator, immediately turning it on and pressing it against your clit. You let out a choked moan from the sudden stimulation and he started slowly moving it in small circles, still maintaining firm pressure. You squeezed your eyes shut with a long vulgar moan and heard him chuckle quietly. 

“Fuck— Jason.” You said through a breath, feeling yourself already close to the edge. It’s rare that you ever need to use the vibrator so whenever you do, it’s always really intense. You expected him to pull away, to make a remark about how you don’t have permission to come, but he didn’t say or do anything. Not being able to hold it any longer, you fell over the edge, then all stimulation was gone. You let out a choked sob and opened your eyes to look at him. 

“Jason,” You whimpered, giving him the pout that always makes him cave. By now, your ruined orgasm was done and your chest heaved as you watched him. 

“I’m sorry, did you still want this?” He condescended, glancing at the toy then back to you. 

“Fuck you.” You growled, now angry from the lack of pleasurable release. He clicked his tongue and turned it back on, pressing it firmly against your now sensitive clit. You cried out, trying to squirm away from him, but not being able to because of him sitting on your legs. 

“S-stop, Jay— stop,” You whimpered, barely able to handle the overstimulation. He just let out a dark chuckle, making you look at him with watery eyes. 

“No, baby. We’re gonna do this over and over again and I’m only gonna stop once it dies.” He smirked. You let out a strangled whimper and yanked your hands forward, the metal chain rattling loudly on the headboard. 

“Please, I- I’m sorry,” He shushed you and you let your words die off into incoherent babbling. 

“You did this to yourself. You’re a big girl, you can handle the consequences of your own actions.” He condescended. You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Can’t…” Despite your words, you could already feel your second orgasm barreling toward you. After only another moment, the coil in your stomach snapped and you let out a loud moan that turned into a sob when he once again removed the vibrator. 

“Please! Please, I'm sorry!” You cried, the tears in your eyes threatening to fall. “Please, Jay, I won’t do it again. I promise— please,” He brought his hand down hard on your sensitive clit with a loud smack, forcing a broken moan from you.  

“No amount of begging is gonna get you out of this, princess.” 

“Jason,” You whimpered. Your watery puppy dog eyes had no effect on him though. He placed the vibrator back on your clit, making you cry out and yank on the handcuffs again. “Fuck! Jay— Jay, please.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut and feeling hot tears start to roll down your temples. 

“God you look so fucking hot like this. Let me see those pretty fuck me eyes.” Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him through wet lashes, bottom lip trembling. “Jesus fucking christ.” He groaned, gaze rapidly moving over your face and the rest of your body. 

“Aren’t you a fuckin sight, huh? Tits out, arms tied to the bed, tears running down that pretty face, and look at how red your little pussy is, baby.” He lifted the vibrator and you let out a heavy breath of relief as your chest heaved. The second you looked down like he said, the toy was back on your clit. Your crying intensified and you continued trying to squirm away from the stimulation. 

“Jay— fuck… Please, Jay.. hurts so bad.” You whimpered, pulling out all the stops to get his mercy. “Please, baby, I’m sorry— I won’t do it again, I promise. I’ll listen to you.” 

“I know you will. But I also know it’s going to take more than just this to make your words actually truthful. Right now you’re just saying what I want to hear to get me to stop.” 

“No! No, I- I'm not lying, Jay.” 

“I don’t believe you.” He shrugged, making you let out a sob and pull on the restraints again, your legs trying to kick him off of you. “Throwing a tantrum now?” He asked with raised brows. 

“Fuck— Jay, please. I’m sorry.” You whimpered. 

“Shh, baby. You don’t want the gag, do you?” You whined at the threat, bottom lip trembling, and shook your head. “That’s what I thought. So why don’t you shut the fuck up and take your punishment, like a good little girl?” Your third orgasm hit you suddenly, but as soon as your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut, he removed the vibrator, making you release an anguished cry. 

He kept that up for what felt like hours. After the fifth orgasm you could barely talk, but after the seventh, you lost count of how many ones he ruined. When the vibrator finally died, you were both relieved and disappointed. 

“Ready for my cock?” He asked, making your breath hitch. You nodded, not even attempting to speak, and watched him walk over to the closet where most of the sex toys are stored. When he came back with a fleshlight, you whined with a pout. “Relax, I’m still gonna fuck you, princess.” You were too fucked out to try and figure out what that meant. He lined up the end with your hole, making you tense up. 

“What are you doing?” Your words slurred together, heavy with exhaustion. 

“Shh. Just trust me, baby.” He cooed and you couldn’t help but obey, your body relaxing into the bed. You whined when he pushed the toy in, feeling far too sensitive, but also relieved that you were finally full. When he settled between your legs and took out his cock, it finally clicked. 

“Jay,” You whined, watching as he stroked himself slowly. “You said you were gonna fuck me.” 

“I am.” He lined the tip of his cock up with the entrance of the fake pussy and all of your protests died on your tongue when he sunk in, brows scrunched together and mouth open in a silent moan. The toy shifted inside of you, but it wasn’t enough to give you any genuine relief. You let out a strangled sob and pulled on the handcuffs— much softer than before though because of how raw your wrists had gotten. 

“You’re okay.” He cooed, making you shake your head as you cried. “Shh, princess. You can take it, can’t you? For me?” You whined, feeling conflicted. 

“Please… ‘m sorry.” You whimpered. 

“I know, baby. You’ll be okay.” He slowly dragged his cock out, then pushed back in. A strangled sob escaped your lips and he leaned down, muffling your sounds with a kiss. Once you started whining and whimpering instead of crying out and sobbing, he pulled back. 

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears from your face. His hips moved slowly, barely jostling the toy inside you. The only plus to this situation was that you weren’t empty anymore. “Took your punishment so well, baby.” 

“Jay,” Your bottom lip wobbled and he gave you a soft smile as he cupped your cheek. When you let out a choked sob, he shushed you softly. “Wanna touch you..” You whimpered, feeling more tears fall when you unsuccessfully tried to bring your hands forward again. 

“Yeah?” You nodded, biting your trembling lip. “Okay, sweetheart. Since you’re doing such a good job, you can touch me.” The second your arms were free, you wrapped them around his body, pulling him down into a hug as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. When you placed a soft kiss there, he let out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck— I’m not gonna last much longer.” He grumbled, breathing heavily against your shoulder as his hips sped up. “This is a punishment for me too, baby. It’s nowhere near as good as the real thing.” You wanted to beg him to take this out and use the real thing instead, but you could barely get any words out when he sped up even more. Your walls fluttered around the toy and you got even needier just by listening to his desperate grunts and moans as he rutted into you, chasing his orgasm. “But don’t worry, I’m still gonna give you my come.” He whispered, planting a wet kiss on the side of your neck. You moved a hand to his hair and tugged on the strands lightly as your back arched up into him. 

When he suddenly pulled up, out of your arms, you whined, but it cut off once you saw that he was pulling the toy out of you and off of his cock. He stroked himself quickly, his breathing coming in short pants until he let out a low groan, covering your sore, abused pussy in his release. He rode out his orgasm, then his hand slowed to a stop as he caught his breath. 

“C’mere, princess.” He said softly, laying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you snuggled into him more. 

“Needy..” You mumbled. When he laughed quietly, the corners of your lips turned up into a small smile. 

“That’s the only bad thing you’re feeling?” He asked again, and you realized now what he meant. 

“Mhm. Still just a little fuzzy.” 

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head again, then started running his fingers through your hair, making your eyes flutter closed as you let out a pleased sigh. The longer you laid here, not distracted by anything, the more your thoughts continued to race. You already felt bad for what you did, but the drop of endorphins, as well as the fact that you just finished a somewhat intense scene, only exacerbated the feeling. 

“Jay, I- I’m sorry.” You started, then cleared your sore throat and spoke a little louder. “I thought I was doing the right thing but I shouldn’t have deviated from the plan and I won’t do it again. I’m sorry for scaring you too.” If the roles were reversed and Jason didn’t follow the plan, then almost died— again— you wouldn’t let him out of your sight for weeks, maybe even months. 

“I’m sorry for yelling.” He said quietly, his own way of accepting your apology. 

“I deserved it.” You smiled. Your heart fluttered when you heard the deep rumble in his chest as he laughed quietly.  

“But hey I mean… if you ever want to go against the plan— in a way that doesn’t almost maim or kill you— I’m not saying it would lead to some pretty hot sex, but…” You giggled into his chest at his words. 

“There’s no fucking way I’m doing that shit again. The ruined orgasms and overstimulation? That was just downright cruel, Jay.” You tried to suppress your laughter and sound stern, but as soon as you heard his chuckle, your serious exterior broke. “And how on earth did you come up with the fleshlight thing?” That part, even though it was torture for you, was almost impressive honestly. 

“I don’t know… I wanted to fuck you, but I didn’t want to fuck you… if that makes any sense.” He said sheepishly. 

“Close enough.” You laughed quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you deviate from the plan.” You said with a smirk. Riding a dildo right next to his cock would probably drive him mad and you were already creating a plan in your head for everything else you could do to him— for all of the ways you could torture him. 

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @whydoyoucare866 @zurakoisanhornysimp @brooklynscherry-z @wartofart @deimks @n1ghtw1ngslvr @harleycao @baebeepeach @jayroytodd @zurakoisanhornysimp

[persefolli]

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐧𝐚'𝐯𝐢!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @myheartfollower​, @laylasbunbunny​ , @destinylb, @deadgirl02​

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Get here!” Jake yelled at Lo’ak. “I let the two geniuses fly a mission and you disobey direct orders?!”

You hopped off your ikran and walked over to the crowd of Sully’s that stood slumped at another one of Jake's outbursts.

“K-Kiri go help your grandmother with the wounded.”

“My brother is wounded.” She responded.

“Please-Tuk! Go with her. Go!” He continued yelling.

“Father- Sir,” Neteyam said groggily. “I take full responsibility-”

“That's right! Because you are the older brother, you need to act like it.”

“Jake!” You yelled with your eyebrow cocked. “Your son is bleeding!” You interrupted, hoping he would let the boys off just this once.

“Mama it's fine-”

“Gone get patched up.” Jake dismissed Neteyam.

You escorted your older son towards the medical pod, where you continued to overhear Jake yelling.

“Do you understand you almost got your brother killed.”

“Yes sir.”

“You're grounded. No flying for a month.”

This was a regular occurrence for the Sullys. Something would go wrong and Jake would go down the line, one by one, kid by kid, lecturing them. As their mother, you also had to put your foot down at times, but you weren’t as strict as Jake. You began to watch your children slowly fall into a state of depression. They became more tense when Jake entered the room, they were silent during dinners, they didn't even go explore the forest anymore. Even Tuk began hiding her toys, afraid Jake would punish her by taking them away.

Guilt followed you soon after. It was your job to be there for them, and you had managed to let their mental health decline under your watch. You did feel it was your fault, knowing that you sat back so many times and watched Jake snap at your kids.

But you had enough.

“Didn’t I tell you?! Didn't I warn you boy?!” Jake yelled at Lo’ak again. “OFF LIMITS THE SHACK WAS OFF LIMITS!” He stepped closer to the boy and yelled in his face. “You had Tuk! You tryna get your little sister killed?” Lo’ak averted his eyes to you but quickly looked back at his father when he noticed. “Look here boy!” He snapped again.

“Enough.” You walked over and slapped Jake on the shoulder. “Kids go play.” You shooed them out of the shared space.

“Are you serious Y/n?! He went too far this time! Nothing you can say will make this easier on him.” Jake sternly said. ���You are his mother! If anything, you need to be watching out for them as much as I do.”

You stepped back, scoffing at your husband's jab. “You calling me a bad mother? Jake, I was fucking scared too! They are children, they will be curious, the world is theirs to explore!” You yelled back. “It’s not their fault our enemy from 14 years ago popped up again! You should be comforting them, not yelling in their faces!”

“They need structure! They don’t have that. None of them, especially Lo’ak, should be fucking up this often!”

“Structure?!” You placed your hands on your hips. “They're fucking scared of you Jake! They don't even call you dad anymore, you're sir! You have to dismiss them like their fucking soldiers! We're a family, not a squadron!” You hissed.

“I don't earn respect, I demand it, especially from my own family.”

“Oh? So I should start calling you Colonel Sully from now on?”

“You're doing too much-”

“No! I'm not-”

“You are! Any other time you sit back and let them do whatever they want. It's like I'm the only parent here! They respect me, can we say the same about you?” You smiled, tears welling in your eyes. Pregnant silence fell between you two, and the tension in the room grew heavy. “I can't do this. Can't do it.” You whispered. “Oh Eywa I didn't want it to ever come down to this.” A few tears slipped from your closed eyes.

“Now what do you suggest?” Jake said snarkily.

“We should split up.”

It felt as if the entire village went silent. Jake’s face, along with his stomach dropped. Panic began to wrap and enclose his throat in its grip. “I can't do this. We can't do this, our kids need a break dammit!” You shouted.

“Hey,” Jake began grabbing at you but you removed your arms each time he made contact. “Hey, Hey, Hey! Y/n baby look at me. Talk to me please.” He began getting desperate.

You looked at him with a deep frown, and tears running down your cheeks. “You don't listen! I have been telling you. I HAVE BEEN TELLING YOU.” You shouted at him.

Jake became more persistent, and now had you in a bear hug, rubbing your back and shushing you. His chest was tight, and he felt like sobbing. The thought of you leaving him? And to know it would be his fault. “I can't! I can't!” You pushed him away and stormed out the pod with tears in your eyes.

That same day, the kids and you came by, grabbing a few items from their rooms before leaving to stay with Mo’at. Jake cried his eyes out that night, having multiple panic attacks and sharp pains in his stomach. He knew he fucked up bad, and what was most disappointing was that it took you threatening to leave him for him to realize that.

Jake needed to look back, deeply reflect on everything you said. He thought back to his kids’s mannerisms, and how they used to act. Lo’ak was the carbon copy of himself, Kiri was down to Pandora, Tuk was an energy ball all around, and Neteyam was cool and collected. He did notice his kids' downturned ears, the silence that appeared when he came around, the fearful staring. It hit him how quiet Tuk had become, and he knew his little one was so hard to shake up.

Jake spent a few nights like this, cheating himself out of sleep and thinking back to all the details he missed.

After a week of moping and thinking, he finally sought you out right before another insurrection. You stood, picking out your arrows to put in the holster that was attached to the ikran. He noticed your fatigued state, how you didn't stand straight, and how it seemed a smile hadn’t appeared on your face since the argument.

“Y/n.” He announced himself. You looked up and sighed, turning to look away from him.

“Can we talk?” He walked closer.

“About what?!” You hissed.

“Everything.”

You huffed and set your bow aside. “Don't move until I get back.” You called out to your team. Jake led you to your once shared home, and turned to face you. You closed the entrance to give the two of you privacy. “I'm sorry.” Jake started. “I should've noticed the signs earlier. I should've communicated my fear of losing them instead of punishing them for my own fears.” You nodded, agreeing with him.

“I let my experiences with the Sky People trigger something in me, causing me to treat you and the kids like the squad I ran back on earth. But you guys aren't my squad, you're my family.” He approached you. “I love you Y/n. I love all of you so much. I will change, I promise I will. I hate that it took you leaving me to realize that.”

You wiped your leaking eyes, and leaned into your husband. A glimpse of the old Jake Sully. One thing you knew was that Jake made sure to keep his promises. Even after the destruction of the home tree he did everything he could to gain your trust again.

“Don't leave me.” He whispered. “Please don’t leave.”

You looked up at him, noses nearly touching each other. “I’m not going anywhere Jake…but you need to apologize to the kids too. Show them that you can act like a father, and treat them with care. Not their Colonel.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake placed a quick peck on your nose, before tilting his head and clasping his lips around yours.

---

The attack against the Sky People was successful. The clan was able to get more supplies and resources for the village. “Sully's fall in!” Jake called out as the lot of you landed back on the mountain. You watched your kids exchange looks, before following their father home.

“Everyone have a seat.” Jake ordered them. They sat quickly, and stiffly. Jake squatted, looked down and sighed heavily. “It has come to my attention that the lot of you are afraid of me.”

The kids looked at each other again.

“And I am so sorry I have pushed you to the point of feeling that way towards me.” He apologized. “I just get so-” He began choking up. “I get so scared…when you kids are in danger and out of my reach. I thought maybe putting some structure into you, it would make my job easier.”

“But somehow I managed to turn my entire family against me.” He paused and looked across their faces, before stopping at Lo’ak. “Come here boy.” He stood, and hesitantly walked over to his father, squatting down to reach his height.

“When I was human, I managed to paralyze myself from the waist down. Thinking nobody could tell me nothin cause I knew it all.” He began shaking his head. “I'm so hard on you because I see you doing the same things that led to me being immobile. I want you to become strong, and more responsible. But I love you son, and I never want you to question that.” Jake placed his hand on his younger son's head, embracing him in a fatherly manner.

“Neteyam,” He motioned for him to come next. “I shouldn't burden you. Especially as the oldest. Your siblings don't reflect you, so you no longer need to take responsibility for their mistakes. I do ask that you guide them the best you can. I see you, and I see who you will become.” Neteyam sniffled, folding his lips in to restrain himself from letting his tears slip.

“Kiri, Tuk.” He recruited the last two standing Sullys. They ran over to him and joined the group embrace. “You two are my very special girls. It may be harder letting the two of you go, but I want you to be as free as you want.” He wrapped his arms around all 4 of his children, holding the now crying Sully kids.

You stood, holding your elbows, letting tears slip on your own as the children accepted their father again. Jake opened his eyes, and looked at you. “My wife, my beautiful wife. C’mere.” You knelt down and crawled over to him, joining the family hug he’d initiated.

“I love you all so much.”

[tacticaldiary]

Sacrifices

Pairing: John Price x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

They’re surrounded and she’s the only person who can pull off the stunt required for the extractions team to do their magic. Defying her Captain’s orders was well worth the punishment if that meant said Captain and her teammates left this hellhole alive. Even if there was the possibility that that would be without her. 

Masterlist

“The evac team’s swarmed, can’t land until the roof is secure!” Gaz yells out while barricading the door the three of them burst through for cover. Price grits his teeth, cursing. 

Gunshots ping in the distance. This was supposed to be a simple mission. Capture the leader of an enemy organisation and transport him back to base for questioning. 

The only issue was the intel they’d received had been compromised from the inside, an ambush waiting for them instead of their target. Gaz, Price, and her were the three people from the Task Force dispatched, the operation needed to be done without raising any alarms, after all. A smaller unit made sense. 

Until it didn’t. The ambush had been brutal. 

Gaz took a shot to the leg and Price, two bullets to the shoulder to his firing arm. She was the only one unharmed. The room seems to be for some kind of storage. Metal racks line the walls, a single light illuminating the space dimly. 

“The roof is their primary focus, they know that’s where they’ll try to extract us from.” Price says, leaning against the wall. He does not flinch, does not wince or show any signs of discomfort from his wound aside from the sweat on his forehead and the pale complexion of his skin. Gaz isn’t doing much better, lowering himself down to get his bearing and inspect his leg. 

“Our options are stay here until we’re found, or take a room full of uninjured, armed forces all at once.” Gaz grits out, rolling up his pant leg. 

She’d been silent this entire time, thinking about their next course of action. The other two were injured. They’d be expecting them to strike as soon as possible, knowing they were desperate to escape. 

The other two wouldn’t be any good standing their ground. Gaz couldn’t walk, and Price wouldn’t be able to shoot accurately. This was her family. Her teammates, yes, but she loved Gaz like an annoying little brother, and Price...

Well, he may be her Captain, but at the end of the day, he’s also her husband.

The decision comes without any hesitation. Grabbing her rifle, she checks her ammo and reloads, the clinking of the bullets catching the attention of the other two. She checks her knives, feeling their gazes on her, and when she finally straightens up and catches Price’s narrowed gaze, she knows he’s figured out her plan of action. 

“You’re not to act without orders, sergeant.” He says, low and authoritative. It’s his Captain voice, the one she and the others obey without question on the field. 

This is the first time she’s chosen to disobey it. 

“We don’t have a choice.” She says, slinging her pistol into its holster. “I’m the only one not out of commission. I can clear the roof, buy you some time at least.”

Gaz goes to interrupt but her husband beats her to it. 

“Stand down, Sergeant.” He orders, knuckles white around the shelf he’s gripping.

“Negative, Captain.” She responds calmly. 

“I’m giving you a direct order-”

“Yes.” She cuts him off. “I’ll get the evac team in, they’ll send backup.” 

“Sergeant-!“ There’s a hint of something other than his stoic command when she approaches the door, something akin to alarm and worry. Even Gaz snaps his head to look at the Captain. 

“Price. Gaz.” She nods to each of them in turn, then gives Price one last look. Her rough, professional exterior cracks for a moment, the sad but determined smile she offers him might be the last one he sees, and the thought makes his heart plummet hard. “I’m glad to have worked with you.” She turns to John. “Love you.” 

He abandons her title and calls out her name angrily instead, pushing off the wall to march towards her. She knows he’s going to grab her, force her to stay and think of something else if he caught her. Hell, he might even decide to go out there instead of her and that was simply unacceptable. She slips out the door, slams it shut and bolts it closed from the outside, trapping them in. 

Two pairs of arms pound on the door, two muffled voices call out her name, one frantic, the other fearful and angry.

She leaves them behind, extracting a frag grenade from her belt. Stealth was one of her specialties, and even more so now that she’s working alone. Slinking back, keeping to the shadows, she finds her way to the staircase leading to the roof. Cracking open the door, she peers out to assess the situation. 

Counting 15 men, armed and alert, she takes a deep breath, pulls the pin out of the grenade, throwing it out. 

The moment it explodes, she throws open the door, takes three men out, and dives for cover behind a stack of sandbags. Men bark out shouts and orders, bullets rain around her. Another grenade sails over the bags, taking out a handful of them.

Hauling herself over the bags, she shoots down a few more of them, lunging to change covers. 

A sharp pain stings straight through her forearm. 

Another one through her right calf. 

Biting back a cry, she situates herself behind the second stack of sandbags. Less than half the men left. She could do it. She wasn’t doing this for herself. She was doing this for Gaz.

She was doing this for Price. For her husband. 

The person who loved staying in bed with her on their off days, the man that treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Price was someone she would never find again, and she was grateful for every moment they spent together. In bed lazy, taking a walk outside, lounging around at the beach, cuddling on the couch. Every moment with him was special, and she would not, she could not let him die like this. 

Trapped in a fucking setup. 

Summoning up the will, she throws her last grenade and opens fire, dropping man after man. Bullets scrape across her skin but she barely feels them. 

She aims for the last man, the roof bloodied with corpses when he throws down a smokescreen. Eyes watering, she coughs, moving to get out of the cloud, when she feels an arm lock around her neck. 

The man snarls, grabbing her in a headlock and squeezing. She chokes, scratches at his arms but his grip is relentless. Dark spots dot her vision, and she can feel her thoughts slip away. 

‘Clear your head’ John would have told her. ‘No situation is inescapable, you just need to figure out the routes to escape.’

Escape. Get the evac team in. She was so close. 

She reaches down and grabs at her legs until her hand curls around the last knife she has tucked away. Yanking it out, she jams it into the man’s arm and shoves him away, stumbling to increase the distance between them.

Cursing, the soldier points his gun at her with a sneer, hatred clear on his face. Unarmed, she looks for a weapon; her gun had been dropped in the struggle. 

There’s a beat of silence where neither of them move, then the soldier bark out a laugh and pressed the trigger. 

The bang makes her flinch as she ducks, preparing for the incoming second shot that would take her out. 

Nothing comes. 

Nothing but the thump of a body and arms pulling her up to her feet with an exclamation of her name. She starts to put up a fight, but then realises that the hands that hold her do not hurt, but are familiar and warm. 

“I’ve got you.” A smooth, gravelly voice. “Easy does it.” 

“John?” She gasps out. Over his shoulder, Gaz limps in on the scene, declaring it clear. A hand pressed to his ear, contacting the evac team via comms.

Now that the adrenaline starts to ebb away, she feels the full effects of her decision hitting her hard. She’s bleeding from a lot of places. 

Her cheek, her calf, her forearm, the side of her stomach. Scraped and bruised, still gasping for oxygen from being choked. God, she just knows there are going to be bruises around her throat tomorrow by how sore it is. 

Her knees buckle, but Price catches her, lowering them both to the ground. “I’ve got you, love.” He mutters, laying her down and looking her head to toe to chart her injuries. “Bloody hell.” He curses at her state. “What the hell were you thinking? Took us ages to break outta that goddamn room.” He snaps, glaring down at her. Among the anger, she can see worry and panic swimming in those eyes of his. 

“Needed to get the roof clear.” She breathes out, clutching onto his wrist. “Did it, didn’t I?” A weak laugh that Price does not find amusing at all. 

“We need a medic!” He yells over his shoulder to Gaz, who nods and relays the information over. “We’re talking about your actions later.” He informs her firmly, eyebrows drawn tightly together. “But you’re alright for now. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me?”

All she can bare to do is nod, squeezing her eyes shut, her entire body hurts and-

“Shit, ouch.” She hisses through her teeth, eyes flying open. “Did you just pinch me?” She says incredulously.

“I need you to stay awake, love.” Price says firmly. “Eyes on me, yeah? Keep talking. Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” She tries a weak smile. 

“It’s one you’ll listen to, that’s for fucking sure.” His grumble pulls out a small laugh from her. She doesn’t have to wait long, it seems because the humming noise of the chopper fills the air soon enough, the evac team lands safely on the roof. A swarm of people rushes out of the chopper towards them. 

The three of them are loaded onto the helicopter, medics on them, shouting to each other and measuring out syringes of medicine. 

Price looks at her the entire time, watching her as if she might disappear again. She knows she’ll get a talking to when they land, a harder one from her Captain, and a more worried one from her husband, but she can’t bring herself to care. 

They were all alive. 

Price could berate her as much as possible, she’d never regret saving their lives, even if it had meant trading her own. 

Requests Are Open!

(17/06/2023)

[inspector-constable]

Aziraphale and the Gray Area: Why is he like that though

Good omens season 2 spoilers ahead

One of the things religious trauma gave me is a strong sense of right vs. wrong. The idea that there is always a right way to do things or a right course of action, and to not do things that way is simply wrong. This is more than just feeling afraid of being punished for doing the wrong thing; it feels like part of my identity. I think of myself as a good person, so I want to do good things and I want to do the right thing. If I choose to do the wrong thing, I lose myself and I lose what I value in myself. Sometimes it’s a good thing to feel like this, it’s what led me away from a religion that preached hate. Sometimes it’s not such a good thing, because I can hurt people by trying to do the right thing, or by trying to put my personal sense of morals onto other peoples’ situations. I have been picking through my beliefs for over a decade trying to confront and dismantle the harmful ones. It’s a painful process and it takes a long, long time.

How much longer must it take for a literal angel, a servant of God? We have the pleasure of seeing this process in Aziraphale through the ages, and it’s a lot slower than fans want it to be. I think people see Aziraphale in his moments in the gray area - lying, disobeying orders, being a bastard, enjoying human food, and loving and trusting a demon - and they think that he must be just fine with being in the middle: mostly right, a bit wrong, very human. But that characterization oversimplifies and misses Aziraphale’s true nature.

The sense of justice and good vs. evil is central to who Aziraphale is. He is not just another angel following commands; he is doing what he truly thinks is right no matter what the consequences may be. He ends up being quite a bit more good and loving than any of the other angels we meet, because he isn’t okay with doing what he knows is wrong. He knows it innately, but also he knows it because of what he was taught. When you’re taught that hate and violence and greed is wrong, but then you see hate and violence and greed being perpetuated by your teachers, you start to wonder where that dividing line really is.

That’s where the gray area comes in. When Aziraphale gives away his sword, he’s aware it’s not technically the right thing to do, but decides it is the actual right thing to do to protect Eve and Adam and their child. Same as when he lies to the angels about Job’s children, only this time instead of fudging the truth and avoiding the confrontation, he has to make a direct choice to do something that is technically wrong - lying - in order to avoid doing something he really, really knows is Wrong - murder. In this case, he’s not okay with lying despite it being wrong, he’s okay with lying because it is the right thing to do. It still causes a large amount of internal conflict when he thinks he will be sent to Hell for disobeying, but that fear of punishment didn’t stop him from doing what he thought was good.

For Aziraphale, the gray area is not about being a little bit evil, it’s about fudging the Rules and disobeying authority in order to remain completely good. Since Crowley is in the gray area with him, surely Crowley must be in the same boat of wanting to do the Right thing. Throughout thousands of years of history Aziraphale never stops arguing the side of Good, trying to convince Crowley to do the right thing. Sometimes he finds that Crowley was actually right all along, and then Aziraphale can feel safe to align himself with whatever the demon is doing. Sometimes Aziraphale even tries to convince Heaven to do the right thing with him. During Armageddon, Aziraphale avoids telling Crowley the truth because he thinks it would be better to get Heaven to stop doing the wrong thing. And he’s right, a lot of problems would be solved and life would be easier if Heaven would listen to Aziraphale and stop inflicting their harmful views on the world. 

It would be nice if Aziraphale would realize, at the end of the first season, that Heaven is not interested in being good or even being right; they just want to win. Aziraphale is too naive and pure to believe that of Heaven. After everything, he still wants to be an angel, and he still wants to be part of a Heaven that is doing good. What he did at the end of season 2 is not at all out of character for him. It makes perfect sense that he would want to take the opportunity to change Heaven for the better. Anyone can see what a delightful place it would be with Aziraphale making the decisions. Angels could drink hot chocolate and stack books in their offices or pop down to Earth to go to the theater. Humans could live without worrying about Armageddon or the Great Plan or having their lives destroyed over a bet. And demons (or at least one specific one) who were good and loving could be forgiven and become angels again so they don’t have to be forced to carry out evil acts and always be looking over their shoulders. 

Aziraphale didn’t do what he did because he doesn’t accept or love who Crowley is. He just genuinely believes that Crowley is still an angel deep down and that Heaven is where he belongs, where he could be the most happy. A better Heaven, where Crowley could create stars to last millions of years and put anything he wanted in the suggestion box. Aziraphale wanted to create a life for them to be together without any more worry of secret meetings, gray areas, and war. When Crowley rejected that life, it broke Aziraphale’s view of Crowley and his goodness. As ridiculous as it sounds, Aziraphale never expected that Crowley wouldn’t jump at the chance to be an angel with him again, and now his perception of their relationship is shaken. 

Ultimately, Aziraphale can’t be so selfish as to choose to run away with the being he loves, when he knows he can do so much more good if he returns to Heaven. And so in trying to do the right thing for everyone, Aziraphale does the wrong thing for Crowley and himself. This is what is so hard about Aziraphale’s gray area; it cuts both ways. He has so much learning and unpacking to do, and I’m afraid he’s going to find that he will have much less power to change Heaven than he thought. All we can do is beg for a third season and then Wait and See.

[five-and-dimes]

Sunbeam

Part 2 of 4

Using the Dreaming Bingo prompt: Healing Touch

Rating: M

Ship: Dreamling

Warnings: Past abuse (not explicit, just implied past warprize things)

Additional Tags: Cat!Dream, Cow!Hob, King/warprize, hurt/comfort

Summary: King of the cow Kingdom, Hob is given a cat person as a warprize, and he'd give him the very sun if he could. But perhaps some sunbeams will be good enough.

Read on AO3

~~~

Dream needs more than just Hob’s milk.

The morning after Dream was given to him, he had called the palace physician to his room. She had brought several books with her, each bookmarked with any information on the health and anatomy of cat people that she could find, even if it wasn’t much. Doctor Constantine was never less than completely thorough in her job. It was how she had come to work in the palace in the first place.

It had taken her thirty seconds to kick the king out of his own chambers.

“I know you mean well,” she had huffed, her nose flaring in irritation that Hob could tell wasn’t really directed at him, “but this will be easier on him if he doesn’t feel outnumbered and cornered.”

Even after Hob left though, she hadn’t stayed in the room long. She had been jotting notes into the margins of one of her books as she spoke to Hob, explaining her concerns and how she wanted to address them in the coming days and weeks.

Now, even two weeks later, it hurt to see the way Dream’s body was suffering. While the malnutrition was their biggest concern, it was more than that. His fur was lank and dull, his skin sallow, occasional patches of skin red and irritated. Ideally, Hob wants to give him a bath, wants to let him soak in warm milk mixed with oils and medication to soothe his pains. But the very mention of a bath had brought Dream the closest to tears Hob had seen since his arrival, his body shaking and his voice cracking as he barely managed to choke out a shaking “Yes, master.” 

So. No bath then.

Still, Hob wants to help however he can, and when he looks out the window and sees the palace gardens bathed in sunlight, he gets an idea. 

It is early afternoon, and Dream has already been fed and woken from a fitful nap. He is now sitting, as he always is when Hob is in the room with him, at the foot of the bed, prim and proper. He thinks he’s seen soldiers standing at attention look more relaxed than Dream does right now, especially when Hob stands from his desk where he’d been reviewing his schedule. And luckily, there was nothing else on the docket today. So he casually walks around the room, collecting a small basket and filling it with a few select items. 

When he turns back to Dream, he just barely catches the moment that his eyes dart down to his own lap, as though he would be punished for simply looking at Hob. As always, Hob consciously pushes down his heartbreak, focusing on offering a gentle smile to try to ease Dream’s fears.

“It is a lovely day out,” he explains casually, “Would you care to join me outside in the gardens?”

Dream blinks, looking confused and caught off guard, but ultimately nods and stands, “Yes, m-… Yes. Sire .”

Hob smiled, and slowly reached a hand out to stroke Dream’s hair once, “Good boy,” he cooed. Hob had asked him not to refer to him as “master” and Dream clearly struggled with it. He was afraid of getting in trouble when he called Hob master out of habit, because to him it was disobeying an order. But he was afraid to not call Hob master as well, because to him it felt disrespectful. No matter what though, no matter what title slips out, Hob simply pets him, either while correcting him gently, or praising him for his bravery.

Slowly, he was flinching less at Hob’s hand.

He was getting a little stronger, too. As Hob leads him out of his chambers for first time since his arrival, Dream follows behind him on his own two paws, their journey marked by the heavy click of Hob’s hooves and the soft tapping of Dream’s claws. Certainly there is still a long road ahead for Dream to fully regain his strength, but for now Hob is proud that he is able to manage even the short to walk to the gardens.

Outside, the air is warm and bright, only the slightest of breezes to ruffle their fur. Hob gives a friendly nod to the various guards as they pass them, searching for the perfect spot to spoil Dream with sunshine.

Eventually, Hob finds a spot that he finds suitable, some fragrant bushes nearby but no trees to cast a shadow on them. He places the basket on the ground and removes a soft blanket to spread over the grass. He keeps his motions casual, even as he shrugs his shirt off in case Dream gets hungry later, and seats himself comfortably on the ground. When he looks at Dream, he finds him standing stiffly, ears flat against his head and staring at where his tail has wrapped around his ankles. 

Smiling, Hob pats his lap invitingly, “Could you come here please, Love?”` He is aware that Dream takes his every word as an order to be followed, but he hopes that maybe if he keeps asking, one day Dream might feel comfortable enough to answer honestly. 

For now, Dream answers expectantly, “Yes, sire,” and scrambles to do as he’s told. At first he moves to kneel between Hob’s thighs, but Hob halts him. He takes Dream’s hand gently, guiding him until he has Dream cradled in his lap, tucking his face against his shoulder and into the sun. 

He feels Dream shiver in his arms, and he pets down his back softly, “There we are,” he nearly whispers, “It’s such a lovely day. Thank you for joining me. It’s nice to enjoy the sunshine with some company, y’know?”

“...Yes, my lord,” the words are choked out, and he feels Dream relax, just a little against his body, the too-sharp bones sinking against Hob’s flesh.

Hob allows them to fall into comfortable silence, waiting patiently for the rest of the tension to slowly bleed from the cat in his arms. Eventually, Hob shifts slightly, reaching into the basket to retrieve a small jar. 

“Dream,” he asks softly, mourning the way he immediately tenses, “I have a salve that I think might help your skin and fur. Would it be alright if I put some on you?”

He feels Dream inhale shakily before nodding against his shoulder, “Whatever you wish, my lord.”

Sighing, Hob knows he will not get a better answer than that right now. He adjusts them just enough to gently push the robe down Dream’s shoulders, shushing him gently when he feels Dream’s breath catch in his chest. He lets the fabric pool in Dream’s lap, not taking it off completely, and then gathers Dream closer, shielding him with his body. He dips his fingers into the jar, coating his hand in the medicated oil, and then begins petting Dream.

He starts with the long stripe of fur running down his back, the black strands dull and dry from neglect. He strokes over where he can feel the prominent knobs of his spine, tangling his fingers down to the roots to rub the oil into where the skin is flaky and irritated. Hob keeps his movements slow and methodical, carefully working the medicine into each strand of fur, whispering soothing endearments and praise each time he feels Dream tremble and shake under his hands

Dream tenses when he moves on to the bare skin of his shoulders, whimpering when he feels Hob spreading the oil over the scars that litter his back.

“There, there,” Hob whispers, “Are you sore? The oil will help, but I can stop if it’s hurting, sweet one.”

He feels Dream shake his head, “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, “I did not mean to disobey.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Love,” Hob reassures, moving his hand away from the scars. He will try there again later, for now taking more oil and working his fingers into the fur at the base of Dream’s neck, “Just relax, enjoy the sunshine. You’re safe, sweetheart.”

Dream doesn’t believe that yet, Hob knows. But he will reassure him however many times he needs until he does. It takes time, Hob occasionally shifting to ensure Dream is always facing the sun as it moves across the sky, the jar of oil slowly emptying as he pets wherever he can reach, wherever Dream is not too afraid to be touched, until his fur is shiny and soft from the medication. He keeps petting him afterwords, reveling in the way Dream has melted against him, the way his skin has warmed beneath the sun, the way his ears are no longer pinned back in fear, but drooping in relaxation. Dream has his chin hooked on Hob’s shoulder, face tilted towards the light, when Hob feels it.

A soft, stuttering purr. It is barely audible, but Hob can feel it where Dream is pressed against his breast. 

Hob feels himself tearing up. He had read about the way cats purr, the sound of contentment and relaxation. He looks down, and feels his heart swell. Dream has his eyes closed, his face tearstained but soft, the light making him look like he is glowing, and Hob decides that he will do anything and everything in his power to make Dream look like that every single day. 

Carefully, he leans down to nuzzle at the crown of Dream’s head, so much softer and warmer than it was this morning. Dream doesn’t move, but the purring gets just a little louder.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Imagine the 141 has a new big target that they can't seem to pin down

And then they eventually do...

And they look exactly like Roba, and Ghost just breaks down. He's shaking and crying, loses his weapon somewhere when he dropped it, and why is the floor getting so close suddenly

Soap sees this and doesn't know what's going on, but he immediately steps infront of Ghost to protect him, and Ghost latches onto his leg, still shaking and scared out of his mind

And soap, he doesn't know what to do, he was told to keep the target alive. But with Ghost's reaction that can't possibly be right, right?

He has his weapon out, but he can't call. For backup because the moment his hand finger leaves the trigger he knows the target will be running. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The target's face splits into a sickening grin, and they step closer. Ghost nearly shrieks, and tries to pull away but he's still latched onto soap, and nearly pulls hom down ontop of him.

Soap barks at the target to stay where they are, but they don't listen. So he shuffles minutely to be more infront of Ghost. He has a decision to make. One that's not really a decision. One that he's about to get in alot of trouble for.

But that doesn't matter. All that matters is ghost, right now.

A low growl rips from his throat at what he's about to do, but it doesn't matter anyway.

/BANG/

The target falls to the ground dead, with a hole right through his brain, and blood spilling into the ground.

He calls it in, even as he's singing down ti ghost's level. Watcher asks him to confirm the target's status, but he ignores it. Watcher is talking to him but he ignores it.

And Ghost looks so small now. It's a wonder how a man so large can make himself so small. And he's almost unresponsive. Almost. He strips them both of their vests, against his better judgment. He rips out Ghost's ear piece when he's still panicking, not listening to him.

He makes Ghost breathe with him, as he holds him tightly to his chest, so that there is no other option but to breathe with him.

And it's Finally when his arms have grown tired that ghost seems to come back to himself a little more.

They have to move, watcher has been yelling at them to acknowledge exfil for the last 2 minutes. The need to gear up again, it's not safe to be this unguarded. Soap ignores it for the moment.

"You killed him." The words come out rough and stilted.

"Yes. Yes, he's dead. Nobody's gonna hurt you. Not while I'm here." Soap responds.

"They needed him alive."

"Did they? Hmm, my bad then." Soap tells him, not sounding even remotely sorry.

They have to move now. He shoves Ghost's vest at him and tells him they have to go.

"They'll punish you. Real bad." Ghost sounds worried.

"I'll be fine." He says, not sounding the least bit worried as he pulls Ghost up with him.

They get to exfil, and debrief when they get to base, omitting Ghost's little fiasco. Soap figures Ghost will tell them if he thinks they need to know. Everything goes smoothly...

Until someone pulls footages. And then soap's pulled in for some talks. They threaten dishonorable discharge, and jail time. Ghost worries. After some very long, very tense meetings, and 2 court hearings, they deem his actions necessary, but put him on an indefinite suspension for disobeying a direct order, for the foreseeable future until its deemed that he has payed proper punishment.

The suspension lasted 2 months, due to Price's insistence that he is necessary for the task force.

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

-You're Mine-

Part 2

Part 1

Leonardo x f! reader

MINORS DNI NSFW CONTENT

Leo's in his thirties, written with bayverse in mind but can apply to any iteration (it has Rise F! Leo vibes for sure)

Tags: exhibitionist, smut, no plot, swearing, spanking, hair pulling, Dom Leo, rough sex, p in v

this is baby's first smut, so hopefully it's ok! sry lol but I hope y'all like it! I had fun writing it heheh

I think I’m going to open up requests for one-shots or head cannons and stuff after this so lmk if you want smthn or want to be tagged in future works

Oh, no. You'll have to pay for disobeying a direct order like that, Kitten. You know the rules."

Leo pulled your head to the side, exposing the skin at your neck. With a smirk, he bit and licked a slow, agonizing trail from your collarbone to your ear, pulling another whine from your throat as he left hickey after hickey on your tender flesh. You could feel the heat pooling in your abdomen, desperate for his touch and growing every second.

Leo could smell your arousal grow stronger as he continued his torment, and as he dragged his tongue over the shell of your ear, he let out a low chuckle.

“So... what do you think your punishment should be, darling?”

You were so horny you couldn’t think straight. He had driven you to the brink of madness, and the only thing that was keeping you secured to Earth was the slight feeling of cold from the windowpane in front of you. You searched for an answer, but your mind was blank.

He gave a light tug on your hair and spoke in your ear again, his voice growing husky with his own desire.

“I’m waiting.”

You bit your lip, biting back a moan that threatened to betray just how wet he was making you. The slick in your panties was threatening to overflow, your clit throbbing with how desperate you were becoming.

“I-ahh..Le-I..”

You had tried to answer him, but as soon as you spoke Leo bit into your neck again, licking and sucking at the skin so deeply that your eyes closed and the moan you had been holding back escaped.

Releasing your neck, Leo looked down at his work and grinned. The hickey you’d have later was definitely punishment enough for having started without him tonight, but for now he’d keep that little secret to himself.

“Sorry, Kitten. I didn’t quite understand you. Care to try again?”

You shook your head no.

“All right, then. Are you going to behave now?”

You nodded.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Leo released your hair and arm, but did not let you move from the window. He remained behind you, hands running over your body and admiring the meal before him. He ran a finger under a bra strap and snapped it against your skin.

“Did you buy this for me?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I thought you might like it, with the lace and all.”

He smirked.

“Oh, I do.”

Leo gripped the fabric of your panties and ripped them completely in half, tearing the lace off of your frame.

You yelped in surprise, heart racing but excited. He chuckled to himself and tossed the shredded underwear aside, and then turned back to you. There was a dark look to his eyes as he spoke.

“Hands on the window.”

The glass was cold to the touch compared to how hot your skin was. It felt good, but made you incredibly aware that you were very much exposed to the streets of New York should anyone happen to look up.

Leo undid your bra and let it fall to the floor, your nipples immediately hard as the cold from the night seeped through the glass. He ran his hands over your ass, squeezing and grunting low with approval as your taut flesh molded against his hands.

“Since you were so eager to put on a show earlier, how about I take over and help you out?”

He reached around your front and dragged a savoringly slow graze over your core. You could feel Leo's body tense behind you, and a low, appreciative growl escaped his lips.

"Fuck, Kitten. You're so wet."

He gently eased a finger past your folds, circling over your clit. With his other hand he gripped your breast, squeezing and rolling your tender nipple. You whined and arched against him, so incredibly sensitive to every sensation he gave you.

His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "You like putting on a show, baby?"

You could only moan in response, the intensity of his touch rendering you speechless. His fingers moved with deliberate, teasing strokes, building the tension within you. He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing fire as they went, while his hand on your breast continued its torturous play. Every movement, every touch, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you crave more of his relentless attention.

Leo swept his thick finger over your clit again and plunged it deep inside your center as you let out a strangled cry, the pleasure incredible and overwhelming. You felt the familiar stretch around him as he withdrew and entered you again, pushing two fingers inside your aching core. Another filthy moan escaped you as you struggled to stay standing, lust fogging your brain. The wetness from your core gushed over his fingers as he fucked you with his hand, adding to the incredible sensations of his palm grinding against your clit. As he deliciously ground into you, Leo started talking into your ear.

"You're such a dirty little slut, aren't you? So wet, you thinking about what'd I'd do when I came home and found you?"

He twisted your nipple between his fingers when you didn't respond immediately, ripping another pained mewl from you.

"Y-yyes, ssi-ir."

"It was hot, watching you from across the street. But I couldn't believe how disobedient my little Kitten was, she couldn't even wait a few minutes."

He audibly tsk'd, and pulled his hand away from your dripping pussy. You felt him shift to the side as he lifted his fingers to your mouth, your slick glistening on his skin in the glow from the city lights outside. Knowing what he wanted, you opened your mouth reflexively and took his fingers as deep as you could, swiping them clean with your tongue. Leo's eyes were dark with want as he watched you.

"Touch yourself."

As you continued to suck on his fingers your hand trailed down to your core, your own fingers sweeping needy glides over your bud. The aching hunger began to build again, your clit throbbing with each pass of contact. Leonardo let out a low churr as you sucked on him, gagging against his knuckles. There was a wicked look to his smirk as he watched you choke on his hand.

He took his hand from your mouth and shifted behind you again. You moved your hand from your clit to return it to the window, but he growled in your ear.

"Did I tell you to stop?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

You continued teasing yourself, but as the ache grew it was harder to focus; Leo would not be happy if you came without permission. Looking out the window, you tried to distract yourself with the city skyline as you slowly drew closer. You were so focused, you almost missed the sound of Leo's pants hitting the floor.

"Oh, you're gunna be, Kitten."

Leo grabbed your hips and thrusted deeply into you, ripping a guttural wail from your throat. His hips pounded into you at a brutal pace, fully sheathing himself to the hilt with each stroke. His thick cock stretched you so tight it was almost painful, but it felt so fucking good.

Your hand still swirled against your nub, the arousal and pleasure coming in waves and threating to crash over you. As if he could read your mind, Leo grunted between slaps of flesh against plastron.

"Don't cum- until I tell you to."

You were so fucked-out, all you could do to respond was moan in ecstasy.

"Mmm-ahh-yy-"

Whap.

Leo smacked your ass again, this time hard enough to leave a nice, three-fingered red mark. You keened again, feeling more slick gush around his cock as he continued to ravage you.

"What was that?"

"Yy-yee-ess..ss-irr-"

"Say my name."

He shifted his hips slightly and thrust into you again, this angle somehow even deeper than before. Your head fell against the glass with a scream, your body practically pressed onto the cold pane for anyone to see. You didn't care, all you could think of was Leo. Leo Leo.

"Yy-es Leo," you choked out.

He picked up his pace, pounding into you harder and harder.

"Say it again, baby. I want to hear you beg."

You wailed against the glass, every thrust from Leo causing your sex to vibrate with pleasure. You were seeing stars. If he didn't let you cum soon, you were going to pass out.

Focus.

Your cries were wanton and hoarse as you summoned all the remaining braincells you had left to obey his request.

"Fu-ck yes, Leonardo. Pl-ease baby, plea-se fuck me-e. I n-need you, Leo."

His grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel his thighs start to shake against yours. As he came, you felt his white hot pulse shoot through your body, thrumming and buzzing in your veins. Still thrusting, he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Come for me."

Your release was intense as you finally let yourself go, the feeling of his cum dripping down your hand as you swirled over your clit sending you over the edge. Your vision started to blur as the pleasure enveloped you, your moans needy and languid. Leo continued to fuck into you, groaning into your shoulder as you clenched around him. You were both shuddering with pleasure, muscles shaking from exhaustion.

As you came down from your highs, he stopped his movements and pulled you both from the window. He laid down on the couch, draping you over his plastron. Leo lovingly moved your hair from your face as you looked at him. You smiled.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiled back. His eyes were full of adoration and something else in the light, but it was too dark to tell. "I was just thinking that I should catch you misbehaving more often."

You both laughed, settling in to snuggle for a little while longer...or at least until you could walk again.

[ophloaf]

i have no idea how this app works so bear with me

warnings: smut, degrading, oral, biting and a bit of blood, implied breeding kink, implied pet play of sorts

miguel ohara x fem!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

as miguel narrowed his eyes at you, to your soft, crying face, his hands went to the bridge of his nose and rubbed them gently.

“y/n..” he groans softly. “please don’t cry. look- you- i.. i need to be more tough on you. i’m your boss.” he says, his tone serious but sounding rather tired.

“you hate meee..” you wail softly, rubbing your eyes more.

he gently reaches out, taking your soft hips into his large, strong hands. “i don’t hate you, mi querida.” he whispers softly. “you disobeyed, you went against direct orders.” he says, a bit more stern now. “punishment is necessary. don’t worry, i know you won’t disappoint me like that again.” he chimes, his hand gently traveling up to hold your cheek, wiping off a tear with his thumb.

your face is hot, you’re so close to him you can’t help it. his strong arm slithered protectively around your waist. it was a tight hold, almost like if it was any tighter it would be painful.

his finger gently grazed your lip, tugging it down to reveal your teeth. “dumb little thing. can’t even move when i hold you, can i? pathetic.” he chimes, moving his face forward, his lips against your neck.

“i-i know. i’m sorry..” you whimper out, melting down into his touch.

“are you going to be good for me, my little slut?” he hums against the soft skin of your neck, his fangs scraping your skin.

“so.. s’good..” you pant out, already desperate for him, your hands gripping onto his thighs tightly.

“tch. such a mindless little thing for me, are you not?” he chuckles, his hands sliding down your suit.

“lyla?”

“miguel.”

“any anomaly issues, reported to jess. please lock my office and close off the nearest sector.” he hums as he continues to kiss at at your neck.

“fine, you perv.”

“i’ll turn off the wifi.” she quickly yelped and disappeared. the clicks of the room locking were heard as well as the other spider people leaving the sector beside them. he grins at you.

“well, my pretty girl? are you upset now?” he asks.

“n-no..” you stammer out nervously through your hitched breath, your chubby thighs rubbing together needily.

his hands slide down and hold them still. “shh, calm down.” he orders, his tone stern. “i’ll give you what you want. you want me, don’t you? what do you want, little thing?” he asks, his hands gently sliding up and beginning to remove the suit.

“y-… you..” you manage to whimper out through your heated breaths, your heart racing at his every touch. “p-pleasee. i’ll be.. i’ll be s’good.. so.. so good..”

“i know, i know. little slut would never disappoint me, would you?” he purrs, gently placing his knee between your thighs, sliding it up against your throbbing pussy.

“you know you want to, pet.” he glanced at your soft, curvy body and gently pushed down on your hips. they began to gently rub, moving and desperately seeking pleasure on his leg as you whimper, moaning softly and bucking your hips like there’s no tomorrow.

“such a dumb little thing.” he murmurs, rubbing your cheek. “atta girl. keep it up.” he praises, sliding a hand up your chest to play with your breasts, his hand easily unclipping your bra. he smirks as your boobs fall out, nipples hard and perked eagerly as your continue to hump his leg.

his finger grazes your nipple. “you’re so beautiful, mi querida.” he murmurs as you gasp and moan.

“stop.” he orders. when you don’t listen, his hands grip your hips, quickly standing you up and pushing you against his desk. “listen, idiot.” he mutters, “good.” he sighs out, nipping your cheek. a small sliver of blood dribbles down, and he licks it up.

he removes the rest of your suit. “m-mig..” you beg out softly. “go quicker,, please..” you whine. his touch his slow, torturous. he knows what he’s doing, he knows how to push you, how to make you wait. you hate it, but it only makes you need him even more.

after what seems like ages, you’re down to only your bra and panties. “pretty girl.” he chimes. “god, you’re so bad for me.” he groans, his own body tense and needy. hours he had spent needing you. the idea of this very scenario plaguing his mind whenever you were around him, leading to easy aggression or annoyance on him. you were too tantalizing.

he was quick to notice your soaked panties. “you’re so damn wet for me.” he remarks. “mindless little thing. my mindless little thing.” he gently lays you down on his desk, pushing things aside as needed. he quickly pries open your legs, his teeth taking your panties and tugging them off. “god. perfect.” he mutters, quick to dive in.

“m-.. a-ah.. mig..gy..” you pant, squirming and moaning. your mewls and protest only made him want you more, his licks and sucks becoming more aggressive, every move he made edging you closer to your already brimming finish.

“p-please.. s-sir.. g-.. goddacum..” you beg out, your legs shaking gently.

“no.” he murmurs through you, his tongue slipping inside and slurping around like you were the most delicious meal he’d ever had.

“can’t wait anymore.” he sits up. with a few swipes, his holographic suit flutters down. you almost forgot he was naked under there, until his large cock springs up at attention. throbbing, the tip glistening from his precum of excitement, he wasted no time pressing the blunt tip against your own soaked hole.

“p-please.. a-ah.. m-miggy, i- ngh.. need you..” you manage to stammer out through this.

“of course, my dumb pet.” he purrs, succumbing to your request and slowly sliding in, groaning out, his fangs bared in pleasure. “so.. fucking tight..” he says, his voice almost a whimper.

you moan, squirming under the pain and pleasure this brought you. it was a stretch, almost difficult to fit in as he holds you down, his hands on your breasts and squeezing as he enters.

he holds himself inside for a moment, panting.

“move..” you beg, giving a small buck of your hips. as soon as you said that, it was game over for you.

his hips began to ram you gently. your back arches, trying to relieve some of the pain of his large member, causing him to hit your sweet spot. “fuck!” you moan out loudly in the sudden pleasure, “shush.” he mutters in response, his grip on you tightening.

“b-but.. i-i’m gonna.. cum..” you beg out, your legs trying to instinctively tighten around him. “then do it.” he growls in annoyance, only speeding up.

you’re quick to reach your climax, your walls tightening around his thick cock as he grunts, “good slut. good girl.” he praises, reaching down to kiss you deeply, as to stop himself and you from making too much noise.

he doesn’t let up at any moment, his strong body captivating you.

“i’m gonna make you mine. breed you. f-fuck..” he falters, his legs giving a shiver. “i’m so close. i’m so.. close baby.. stay there.. oh.. good, good girl. good.. slut!” he grunts as he cums, shooting thick white ropes deep inside you, his body still tense as he groans.

you’re dazed as you look up at him. “thank you, sir..” you manage to giggle out.

his face is hot, and he clears his throat. “.. just.. help me clean this up.”

“mm. right. i don’t.. think i can move.”

“well. still think i hate you?” he chuckles, kissing your cheek.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

For @silvrash-797’s baby shower! :D Congratulations, girl!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Have some Ganondorf + kids, paired with Link + his daughter, paired with bedtime stories and yeah. Anyway, hope you enjoy! ❤️

Ganondorf truly had found that of all his quests and grand plans, the most difficult missions in his life had been to reel in his children.

He loved them dearly, truly. But by the goddesses, they could push him to his limits. Having just tracked down his daughter, who was most certainly the troublemaker of his twin children, he had finally dragged her and her boyfriend back to the capital, keeping his temper evident but silent as he practically deposited them on the ground. Link’s coughing brought him no sympathy from the Gerudo king, though he clearly wasn’t looking for any. Hemisi was completely unapologetic, and it was immediately apparent that the pair’s disappearance had been her idea.

Of course it had. The girl was a menace; she had her father’s tenacity and fiery temper paired with her mother’s mischievousness. The girl was a spitfire and Ganondorf adored her for it.

Except when she snuck off to forbidden places with someone who needed to be resting. Honestly, getting Link to understand the meaning of self preservation was proving to be difficult enough, but pairing it with Hemisi’s seeming lack of concern for either of their well-beings made Ganondorf wonder what the heck he’d done wrong in raising his daughter.

Why did teenagers think they were indestructible? It was beyond frustrating.

Hemisi decided to try and test the waters. “Come on, Father. We’re fine, and it wasn’t even that bad!”

He didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t exactly punish Hemisi too severely since tomorrow’s plans were being set in motion by Nabooru right now, and he needed Hemisi for it. Instead, he just glowered at the girl before directing his ire at Link. The boy looked reasonably apologetic, but offered no feeble words to excuse himself, which was frankly a little surprising as he was the polite, placating one usually.

“Get in bed,” Ganondorf grumbled to the boy. “And stay there this time. I expected more obedience from you. Not to mention you’re risking Hemisi’s health by being near her.”

The way the teenager wilted gave Ganondorf a little satisfaction, but Hemisi immediately jumped to his defense. “Oh, stop it, Dad! He’s not going to get me sick too; he’s feeling better! You should’ve seen him fighting the monsters down there, he’s fine!”

Ganondorf briefly entertained the curiosity in his mind that wanted to see Link fight – he’d seen glimpses of it in sparring matches, but that wasn’t the same. Orik had managed to defeat Merovar in every fight, and he and Hemisi were equals. To see him in a real fight would be interesting. Nevertheless, the boy had sand fever, and though he was doing far better now than he had been the other day, there was still always a risk that he could get sicker again or worse, give it to Hemisi. “I don’t care for your excuses, Hemisi. I expected you to know better. You wish to be treated as an adult, yet you still make decisions like a child.”

Hemisi puffed out her chest, getting riled up. Link dragged himself into bed with some effort to try and appease the situation, and Hemisi hopped on the mattress just beside where he’d settled.

“No,” Ganondorf immediately ordered. “You, daughter, are sleeping in your own room.”

“I will,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes before her anger seemed to settle into something else. “But can’t we all just hang out a bit? Maybe you could tell us a story? We’ll exchange stories! I can tell you about what we saw down there.”

“You disobey my orders and think you can regale your disobedience to me like it’s a tale of legend?” Ganondorf snapped. “You are pushing my patience, Hemisi.”

“Father.” Now she was trying pleading, petitioning to his soft spot for her with her tone. “We were simply curious. And Link was going stir crazy.”

“Link is sick. He needs to rest.”

“With all due respect, my lord—“

“No.” Ganondorf interrupted the boy. “Be silent and go to sleep.”

Link’s mouth snapped shut, and he practically deflated, sinking into the pillows.

“Come on, Dad,” Hemisi petitioned more gently, something genuine in her tone this time. “We… we never get to all really just… hang out anymore, you know? The Festival of Colors has been so nice because we’ve all been together just having fun. Can’t you just tell us a story? I’ll even grab Merovar.”

“You know your brother isn’t interested in my stories anymore,” Ganondorf noted, far less annoyed and perhaps a little… he didn’t know. His chest felt tight at her words. Of course they hadn’t had much time – he’d had planning to do. The Triforce would soon be theirs, and then they’d have all the time in the world for each other. And he wasn’t at all upset in the slightest at Merovar outgrowing such moments like this. He wasn’t.

“That’s because he’s stupid,” Hemisi fired back dully, eliciting a laugh from her father. “Link and I will listen. You haven’t told me any stories in a while, and you’ve never told Link any.”

Ganondorf sighed a little, glancing at Link halfheartedly. He didn’t mind indulging Hemisi, but Link… well, there was little point in not doing so. Life was about to change a great deal for this child as well, and Ganondorf knew he would be lying if he said he didn’t care about him at this point. “Do you care for stories, boy?”

Link’s red eyes sparkled a little, curious. “If… you don’t mind.”

“Dad’s an amazing storyteller,” Hemisi noted supportively, elbowing Link and smiling at her father. Ganondorf felt his chest warm and swell with pride at it, and he finally sighed, letting himself smile a little.

This girl, honestly. He couldn’t stay angry at her. “Very well. I’ll tell you about the Dragon Huntress.”

Hemisi’s eyes widened as she gasped in delight. “Oh, I love this one! Get comfortable, Link, it takes eighty years for him to tell—”

“You just complimented my storytelling abilities.”

“I didn’t say it was bad, it’s just long! And that’s not a bad thing! We can sleep through some of it.”

Ganondorf didn’t bother hiding his unimpressed expression. Children always made for the most difficult audience, but he’d thought it would improve with teenagers. To his credit, Link still seemed eager and interested, so Ganondorf sighed heavily and settled on the edge of the bed.

“Very well. Long ago, in the distant past, there was a fearsome dragon. It dominated the skies, elusive and powerful, with teeth that could snap bones and a mouth that could swallow cities whole. There was a Gerudo warrior at the time who swore to hunt down the dragon and destroy it after it took her parents from her. But the challenge was that she was of the desert, and the beast of the sky – how could she possibly hunt down such a monster and destroy it?

“The challenge was a formidable one, but the warrior decided she would fulfill it. She had to leave the protection and familiarity of her homeland, moving from the oasis into the great sand sea to the south, where the dragon often roamed. At first, it was a long, grueling walk. The sun scorched her during the day, drying her throat so much it felt as if she were swallowing the sand itself. With every step she took she could feel the heat pulling away her energy. But with every dune she crossed, she grew more determined, for she would not let the desert conquer her before she could reach her target.

“After several days’ journey, the warrior crossed yet another dune to find a new curiosity. The desert was different here, with patches of different colors like paint droplets on a canvas. Just to the left was blue, filled with water like an oasis but surrounded by pink and yellow flowers. To the right was green, grass waving in the breeze only to be choked out by more sand just beyond its little borders. Everywhere she looked there was patchwork of nature, magic sparkling in the air like fireflies.

“‘What is this land,’ she wondered curiously, ‘where Farore can piece together every fabric of the world into one place like a quilt?’

“The warrior stepped from one patch to another, one moment feeling a cool evening breeze on her face, relieving her of the dry, hot breath of the desert, and the next, dipping her toes in mud, sloshing in marshland and getting a bitter chill. As she moved forward, she heard a small cry, and she saw a curious-looking little creature. Its tiny paws were dark as the night sky, but its coat was the color of sand, tail small and ears large. It was stomping into the earth with gusto, echoing a phrase over in frustration as it moved, scratching here, pouncing there.

“‘What is the matter?’ The warrior asked the creature.

“‘Why, I lost my marbles!’ The magical fox replied.”

Here, his story was interrupted with an amused snort from Hemisi, who giggled as if she hadn’t heard this tale before, giving Link seeming permission to chuckle a little as well. It had admittedly been a while since he had regaled anyone with the story of the Dragon Huntress, and it was… a nice reprieve to have this moment.

Ganondorf spoke on, telling the pair of the warrior’s journey with the creature to retrieve little magical stones that held pieces of the world within them. With each stone was a new adventure, with each recovery was a new discovery. For one stone, she had to traverse a land of fire, helping Mr. Salamander retrieve his stolen eggs from a local demon who had taken them, including the magical stone the warrior needed. In another adventure, the warrior had to learn how to breathe underwater, in another she sang so beautifully she moved a tree spirit’s weary, heavy heart and it revealed where one of the stones were. This particular tale was so long because it was showing how the warrior lost her way, how she spent so much time getting involved in retrieving these magical stones, and all the misadventures and creatures she had to assist in doing so diverted her from her main goal. The story never really had a true ending – when the warrior finally retrieved all twelve marbles, she simply… stayed with her fox friend in the magical land she’d discovered. It was a cautionary tale, in Ganondorf’s mind, to never lose sight of one’s goal.

He planned to not make the same mistake as the ancient warrior.

Surprisingly, Link stayed awake for the entirety of the folktale, while Hemisi steadily fell asleep on his shoulder. The boy’s body was sagging steadily in exhaustion, but he hung on to every word, a captive audience caught in the wonders of the descriptions Ganondorf was giving him. He smiled and laughed softly in certain parts, looked worried in others, but never interrupted, never faltered despite looking utterly spent from his adventures earlier in the day. When Ganondorf reached the conclusion of the tale, he picked Hemisi up (he knew the girl would wake up from the movement, but she didn’t protest being held on rare occasions) and tucked Link in.

“So she… never got to the dragon?” Link asked quietly.

Ganondorf paused in the doorway, considering it. “I’d like to think she did, someday. When she came to her senses.”

The world changed a few days later. Golden grace split into three, the fires of war scorched the land, and their lives changed forever.

But many years later, the King Consort of Hyrule sat in the nursery, his sweet little princess on his lap and held in his gentle embrace. He’d only just started talking again recently, but he wanted Sonia to hear him speak more, as she’d almost lost her voice due to his own silence. As such, he figured he could tell her stories at night, to help her settle to sleep. He’d gone through a couple Sheikah tales that he knew, but he admittedly didn’t have much repertoire in storytelling.

And then he remembered a Gerudo story from long ago. He remembered the cool desert night, huddled up against Hemisi, body aching from illness and exertion but heart full of peace and joy. He remembered Ganondorf, deep voice low and gentle instead of menacing and terrifying, face soft and eyes welcoming instead of harsh and threatening. He remembered his story of the warrior who hunted a dragon and lost her way in all the little quests to help others.

At first, he didn’t even want to tell this fable. It felt like the words would poison his mouth, like spreading something around that that monster had told him would somehow bring him back. His heart ached at even thinking of a time when he and Hemisi had been together, when he’d almost had a family. But there… there was no harm in regaling his daughter with images of Gerudo folklore. He couldn’t let the past keep hurting him so much. And he had a family now, right here, right in front of him. He wouldn’t let Ganondorf ruin that for him, for his daughter, for anyone. So he started in on the tale of the Dragon Huntress, and oh how Sonia loved it, how she excitedly emphasized points she enjoyed and how she giggled, how she grew peaceful with the rumble of Link’s quiet voice, how she settled in her father’s loving arms.

And as Link told the story to his daughter, he pondered over the message it relayed, how Ganondorf had insisted that it was a cautionary tale about keeping focus on one’s goal. But as Link spoke to Sonia of each new adventure the warrior went on, and all the people she helped, and all the friends she made, and all the new things she discovered, he started to realize the legend’s true meaning. It wasn’t until he got to the adventure of the graveyard of fireflies, where the warrior had to help her newest friend, who was grieving, that it truly struck him.

It had never been about losing one’s way. It had been about closure and learning to live again. The warrior had been risking her life on the chance of revenge, on eliminating a beast that had taken everything from her, but through her quest to retrieve the magical little marbles for her new friend, she’d discovered peace.

Link felt his own eyes sting as he finished up the tale, Sonia sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Years later, the little princess had grown into a young woman, with a family of her own. And she told the tale to her children, just as her father had told her.

Millennia later, in the ruins of a village in the desert, Ganondorf gazed at the fire, the new Hero of Hyrule sitting across from him. The other Gerudo had passed the time telling stories, and it seemed it was now Link’s turn.

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t know much,” the young captain started. “But Zelda had one story she loved a lot. I don’t remember all the details, but I remember the overall plot.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” one of the women prompted.

“It’s called the Dragon Huntress,” Link started, and oh how Ganondorf’s gaze snapped to him. Link didn’t seem to notice, wrapped in the blanket he shared with Lana; he’d captured his audience’s attention and that was all he cared about. It was strange, really, how different he was from…

Ganondorf bit his tongue, pushing away the overwhelming, nauseating pain in his heart.

“Long ago, a Gerudo warrior tried to hunt down a dragon that had taken her parents from her.”

Goddesses, how did the boy know this story? How did he know a Gerudo tale in a land where the Gerudo were seemingly forgotten? And he’d heard it from the queen?

Had… had that child… after everything…

“On her journey, she met a magical fox. He’d lost little stones, magical marbles, and she promised to help him find them. But each stone was in a different place, and each one required a different problem to solve. I remember a few, like the one where she had to sail across a giant river with an otter who captained a ship, and another one with fireflies, I think? But anyway, the point was that she spent all her time going on these adventures and making new friends, and she realized that she had been obsessing over something that was never going to bring her parents back. So she learned to be happy with what she had, and she learned to move on.”

She… but that wasn’t how the story…

“So she… never got the dragon?”

Goddesses, he hadn’t heard that boy’s voice in so long. He could still feel the weight of his precious daughter resting in his arms, could still see the tired, quiet curiosity in young Link’s eyes.

It had been so long, yet this story lived on. And it had lived on because Link had decided to tell it to his children.

She learned to be happy with what she had, and she learned to move on.

Ganondorf’s gaze drifted upward, following the sparks from the fire until they blended into the stars of the sky. He breathed in slowly, feeling his chest tighten, feeling his eyes sting, and then he let go with a deep, shuddering exhale.

[knackfandomarchive]

Skully's Punishment

(girl help I'm getting distracted from KNACK. Maybe I should make another sideblog??? I don't imagine I'll write any more, but who knows.)

(Also Skully is @sonicasura's idea and I'm referencing this post. I'm anime-only for now and have only seen up to episode 10, so please pardon my wrong assumptions)

(heads up! Body fluids from a crying kaiju may be gross)

Hoshina entered the surveillance room in a haste, but then relaxed. "Yare yare! For a minute there, I was worried you'd broken out the hot irons! Sorry I'm late; I was preoccupied with a little someone's Mama." He pinched his chin in thought, "Or, Papa?" then began to scratch, saying, "They called me Papa, first."

Skully's whimpering quieted and they mumbled, "Mama...?"

Okonogi held the stopwatch and gave a salute with her other hand. "Eight-Alpha completed three minutes and 47 seconds, Vice-Captain!" She frowned sympathetically at the Yoju. "But they keep collapsing and crying out. It's just a baby after all..."

"All the more reason to impress on them obedience." Hoshina was stern. He addressed the Yoju, "Kaiju Number Eight Alpha, you disobeyed a direct order to leave the battlefield at once. As punishment, you have to do a wall-sit for five minutes." He held up a hand, describing the numbers. "If my math is correct, you have one minute and 13 seconds left. Do continue."

Skully instead began to wail, shaking their head and mumbling.

Elsewhere, poor Kafka found himself struggling to keep his cool under restraints. He wasn't sure what was happening at first, but his protective instincts gnawed at him to break free and investigate on behalf of the possibly-endangered welfare of the whelp. His whelp! He could hear it crying, somehow. But doing Kaiju-ly things wouldn't help his position. Patience, patience, he'd kept his distance so far, he'd just have to wait a little longer. This was a test. It was probably fine. If the defense force wanted it dead, it would be.. Tears sprung to his eyes anyway.

Hoshina reached out for Okonogi to give him the stopwatch. "I'll take it from here. Why don't you take a break?"

Okonogi nodded, giving him the stopwatch. But glanced at the Yoju again. "Yo..." (roger)

She turned and left.

"Skully," Hoshina called for their attention in an ambiguous tone.

The sobbing Yoju looked up at him, wiping at their face. "Papa?"

Hoshina crouched down, putting his hands on his hips and smiling. "You went from fortitude 2.8 to a seven point five. On a logarithmic scale - not that I expect you to know what that is - that's pretty damn impressive. Pardon my language." He reached out and put a palm on Skully's head, between the horn nubs. "You're already over halfway done. I know you can do this."

After a moment, Skully took a long sniff, slurping up some snot. Hoshina pulled his hand away, vocalizing his disgust. As gross as it was, though, Skully's gesture was remarkably human, and reminded Hoshina of Kafka.

Skully exhaled, at the same time repeatedly balling their hands into fists and releasing. They were ready to try again, and it showed on their face. "Yo!"

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Forbidden knowledge and the one time you're allowed to use it

Warnings: heavy angst and I mean that!! I cried so much writing this and have debated abandoning it several times!!

Listen to this for the full experience because that's what I listened to while writing this.

---

"I really don't think we should be doing this..." Sizhui tried, pulling onto one of Jingyi's sleeves. He swatted Sizhui's hand away, and he picked up some random book, a decidedly different one from what Hanguang-Jun had told them to get when he handed them the token for access in the forbidden section of the library.

"C'mon, aren't you even a little bit curious what's in here?" Jingyi replied, flipping through the pages of the book. "It's not like there's anyone to tell on us or anything, and who knows when we'll get the chance to snoop around here again?"

"Maybe there's a reason why we aren't allowed here so liberally, Jingyi... We should just go..."

"Sizhui, my man, live a little." And Jingyi tossed him a heavy book. "See what's in there, look for anything that's very powerful and very forbidden."

"And exactly why do you want to learn very powerful and very forbidden things?" Sizhui asked, suspicious, though he began sifting through the book as told.

"Because I'm curious and I also want to be the coolest guy around, obviously!"

"Jingyi, you can be cool without using whatever forbidden techniques are written in these books, you know?"

"Yeah, but what's cooler than the forbidden and the occult?"

"Not getting punished to do handstands for 12 hours..." Sizhui mumbled, sending a talisman to the ornate doors of the library to warn him if anybody walked in. He'd lie if he said he wasn't curious too, but it felt a bit too risky to just waltz around in the Lan sect's dark knowledge dungeon like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Still, he reasoned, he'd already broken the rules by disobeying a superior and he'd already looked into a book that he hadn't been allowed to - he'd get punished either way. And perhaps Jingyi had been right, it was incredibly rare for junior cultivators to be allowed into the forbidden section of the library, might as well make the best of it.

---

The night hunt had gone haywire so quickly and so unexpectedly that Sizhui and Jingyi hadn't even had time to think of the tipping point that led to their current situation. One moment they were slaying a small horde of fierce corpses, the next they found themselves trapped in the strangest array they had ever seen, with a literal army of ghouls attacking them from all directions.

They tried asking for help - they sent all of their flares flying, but that strange array blocked them, extinguishing the firework-like signal before it lit up the sky.

There was no time to think of how to break the array, not with corpses and demons jumping at them ceaselessly, fueled by such resentment that it backed the two cultivators into a corner, back to back, trying to protect themselves and each other, struggling for a solution, for survival.

---

"Hey, Sizhui, look at this!"

The book depicted a figure gathering their qi in the center of their chest, manifesting it as a large, powerful sphere.

"Apparently, this is some kind of ultimate technique that can destroy a large number of enemies and purify cursed land, break any curse or spell and is largely invincible. Isn't that cool?"

Sizhui read over the page around the drawing and frowned. "This technique... anyone who uses it dies. Painfully. It requires draining your life force out of your body, and in order to do that it..."

He tore his eyes from the book and shut it closed. "Let's just go, Jingyi."

---

"No!" Sizhui shouted, blocking another fierce corpse's strike. "No way, no!"

"What else is there left?!" Jingyi shouted back, throwing the last of his talismans against their assailants. "Nobody's coming, and we're running out of time and energy already! How much longer do you think we can go like this? A few minutes at most!"

"I fucking said no!" Sizhui all but growled, eyes fierce. "I'm not doing that! And I'm not letting you do it either!"

---

"What are you writing there?" Sizhui asked, peering over his friend's shoulder. He expected to find some silly romance story or a journal entry - but his eyes darkened in disapproval instead as his eyes recognized the writing. "Jingyi."

"I know you disapprove, but hey, it could be useful!"

"Why are you so hung up on that particular thing? Did you like reading about how you'd die if you used it that much?"

"That's not it." Jingyi shook his head, "There's a rule about using it. Apparently it doesn't work just when you want it to. Your body and your spirit would fight it unless this condition is met."

Sizhui hated that his interest was piqued. "What condition?"

"The condition is-"

---

Sizhui screamed, pain tearing through him as the corpse's claws dug into his chest, tearing the fine material of his robes and the delicate layer of skin underneath.

Jingyi cut it down before it could do any more damage, and rushed to help Sizhui balance as he burnt the very last talisman he had to keep the monsters at bay.

"Sizhui... come on, we can't go on like this forever."

Sizhui tried to steady himself but the pain and the damage of past injuries caught up to him, collapsing onto the ground even as Jingyi held him. "No- Jingyi, no, I can't-"

Jingyi wiped the blood off his face with a small smile. "I'll do it, it's okay."

Tears filled Sizhui's eyes, his hands coming to grip his friend's wrists. "No, no, please, don't... there has to be another way..."

Jingyi tried to keep the smile on his face and ignore the tears threatening to fall down his own face. "There is no other way. Not this time."

Sizhui pulled his friend into the tightest hug he could muster, shaking with the force of it and his sobs. Or perhaps they weren't only his own. They had imagined their lives so many times, the future twin jades of Lan, honoring their sect and their seniors for decades to come, growing up together, building families and worthy reputations, helping people.

All of those things, they would never come true. There would be no future and nothing to share. No together, nothing at all.

"Let go, A-Yuan. The talisman's going to burn out soon." Jingyi mumbled, trying to hide the shake in his voice as he spoke into his friend's shoulder.

"Just a little longer."

Jingyi swallowed the hard lump in his throat and gently pushed Sizhui away. "It's going to be okay. You don't have to look."

But there was no way Sizhui would be able to close his eyes, there was no way he would convince himself to be blind to his friend's - no, his brother's sacrifice. The least he could do was look, admire his bravery and his power and his love, and catch his body as it would fall, limp and lifeless, to the ground.

Jingyi took in a deep breath, his expression steely, determined. Sizhui could never imagine himself so courageously facing death, and he wants to scream his cowardice and his weakness and his sorry to the man that would give his life just to save Sizhui's.

Slowly, Jingyi began coaxing his qi outside of his body, thin, white streams of energy coiling around one another in front of his chest. His brows furrowed, in pain, but he said nothing, uttered nothing of his discomfort, only the thinnest ribbon of blood falling from his lips. He'd bitten his tongue.

The sphere started taking more shape now, tragically beautiful in its wielder's hands, and it was for a brief second that Jingyi turned his head and opened his eyes to take one last look towards Sizhui, a serene, resigned, painless smile on his face.

...and then, for a few seconds, blinding light swallowed everything, all the beasts, the forest, the array, the moon, the stars and the entire world. For a few seconds, there was nothing, nothing but the gut-wrenching scream Sizhui let out.

---

"The condition is that you can only use this technique if somebody you couldn't live without is in mortal danger."

---

The light died out, and the world returned to its muted, dark colors. There were no more corpses, no more monsters, no more wounds on Sizhui's body.

There was no more Jingyi.

Nothing was left.

Not even ashes, not even a shred of clothing, nothing at all.

---

"This technique... it destroys the spirit... there's nothing left after, no reincarnation, no chance to respond to Inquiry, nothing at all. It's like you never even existed, ever."

"But if you think about it... it's not something you use lightly. The condition says you can only use it for someone you can't live without. If they die, isn't that the same thing as having your soul destroyed?"

---

It started to rain.

Jingyi used to hate the rain.

[justagalwhowrites]

Punishment

OK one more from this weekend's writing binge because I'm excited. Quick excerpt from "Beskar Doll" in which Doll finds out exactly what happens when she disobeys Mando's direct order in the field. Can just be read as a nice little smutty one-shot.

Mandalorian x Female Reader

CW: Smut. Just egregious smut. Orgasm denial within a preexisting relationship. Minors DNI

700 words

You were enjoying the heat of the water over your sore body, feeling warm for the first time since you’d left the ship. It didn’t take long before the door opened behind you. You instinctively closed your eyes, even though the room was dark and all you could see was the Mandalorian’s silhouette in the doorway. You faced the wall as the door slid shut, leaving the room pitch black again. 

“Doll,” he growled. His voice was unmodulated. You swallowed. 

“Din,” you said, turning your head so your ear was turned toward the sound of his voice, his fucking gorgeous, unmodulated voice. 

“Why didn’t you listen to me in the field,” he said it more than asked it, his naked body brushing against the back of yours. 

“Because you don’t get to tell me to watch you die,” you said, voice thick with want, pain, frustration. 

“I get to tell you whatever I want,” he growled. “It’s my puck, my mission, my ship. The deal was you do what you’re told.” 

“For safety,” you were panting for breath, pressing yourself back into him. “That wasn’t for your safety.” 

“No, it was for yours,” his mouth was against your ear. “And you disobeyed me.” 

His lips traveled to your neck and your hand flew out to the shower wall, bracing yourself as your knees threatened to buckle. He kissed down the side of your throat to your shoulder before he sank his teeth into your flesh, making you gasp. 

“It was…” you gulped in air, half collapsing against the wall. “An unreasonable ask.” 

You pressed your ass back against him, feeling the wetness between your thighs, his hard length resting between your cheeks. 

“You’re needy,” he said, running a finger over your lower lips. You groaned. “What makes you think you deserve to get what you want?” 

“I saved you,” you managed to gasp out. 

“That’s true,” he said, taking a half step back from you before notching his cock head against your entrance. “I may not be here to fuck you without your help.” 

He slid into you in one swift, demanding stroke, making you hiss and groan. It was the first time he’d ever entered you when he hadn’t helped prepare you first. It had been almost a week since he’d last been inside you, your walls weren’t ready for an intrusion of his size. He pulled back and slammed into you again, the force of it demanding, the stretch all painful pleasure.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, picking up the pace and reaching a hand around to the front of you to rub your clit. You stumbled where you stood, head swimming. “Taking me so well…” 

He fucked you hard and unrelenting, his fingers bringing you close to the edge but pulling back as you got closer to it, waiting for your near-climax to ease before pressing into your clit again. 

“Could have lost you,” he growled in your ear before pressing his lips to your neck. “Could have gotten yourself killed…” 

“Din,” you managed. “Please…” 

He pulled himself from you and turned you around, slamming your back into the shower wall before grabbing your leg and hitching it around his waist, thrusting fully into you again. 

“Please what,” he ground out. 

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, reaching for him. But he pinned your hand to the wall. “Let me cum, please…” 

“Those are privileges, Doll,” his mouth went to your throat, biting and sucking you before trailing his lips along your jaw, leaving them hovering over your own. “This is what happens when you break the rules.” 

He brought you just steps away from the edge and stilled inside you, filling you with a strangled groan. You almost cried, body tight with aching need, as he pulled out of you. He ran a hand over your core, cleaning you, before turning the water off. 

“Close your eyes, Doll,” he said, voice less pissed now. You obeyed and he tugged you off the wall and against his body, guiding your arms around his neck and your head to his shoulders. He lifted your legs and you instinctively put them around his waist and he carried you, wrapped around him, to bed.