#why do i actually understand what he's saying where is his accent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellecdc · 2 months

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https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFMbHSqg/

I talk like this and people like to make fun of it because of it

Can I request for marauders to defend me and pampering me afterwards. Please, thanks

okay, first of all: people make fun of you? - what are their names? where do they live? tell them I wanna talk..... secondly: thank you for your quick requests after my post! you're my hero <3

poly!wolfstar x reader who has a distinct accent (reader's gender not specified)

CW: bullying, making fun of someone's dialect/speech, swearing, pet names.

You knew there was a chance that the laughter was not at your expense at all. Perhaps they were actually laughing at what you said, not how you said it. Or, perhaps they hadn't even been listening to you at all. But your throat still constricted painfully when you heard the girls a few seats down the table in the Great Hall from you start laughing after you interjected in your boyfriends' conversation.

The girls had been particularly catty with you before, though you weren't entirely sure why; perhaps it was because you were dating two of the most popular boys in school, perhaps it was because you were different, or perhaps it was because that's just the kind of people they were.

You'd heard them make comments about your accent before, and though it was a bit of an insecurity of yours, you tried to let it slide off of your back.

You just didn't understand what the big deal was - especially considering you were attending school in the United Kingdom for heaven's sake; if you drive 30 minutes in any direction, the accent of that region is going to be different!

People in England speak English with a variation of a British accent; people in North America speak English with a variation of an American accent; people in Ireland speak English with an Irish accent; and people from your mother country speak English with their own accent too!

So why was it you who was teased for your inflection?

"You okay, Y/N?" Peter asked you quietly from his place across from you. He may as well have shouted it, however, as the sound of your name with the company of any concern acted like a siren call for your two boyfriends, both of whom immediately dropped their conversation with Marlene and James to turn to you.

"What is it, dolly?" Sirius asked immediately, noticing the slight shine of your eyes. You tried to smile at him and shake your head; you did not want to make a big deal out of this.

"Dovey," Remus chided as he gently nudged you with his elbow. "What's the matter?"

Your eyes inadvertently flit to the girls down the table before you turned back to your boyfriends and Sirius' eyes darkened.

"Did they say something to you?" He asked gruffly.

"No! No, please, I'm fine." You begged.

The sound of voices mimicking your pronunciation permeated the air as they repeated your words.

"Oi!" Remus called harshly - so completely unlike his usual calm demeanour.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sirius added.

The girls, not showing any signs of shame waved the boys off "oh come on, it was just a joke! Y/N knows that."

"You're right, you are a fucking joke." Sirius spat as he stood from the table and gathered his book bag. "Come on dollface, we're leaving."

Remus stood as well and helped you from your place at the table. Your face was so hot from embarrassment and the blood rushing to your head left a ringing in your ears. As you left the hall, you failed to notice the shouting from James, Marlene and the others in your defence.

The first few tears fell as you were ushered to Gryffindor tower. Neither boy said anything as you walked - Sirius clearly trying to shake off his rage for your benefit, and Remus keeping a steadying hand on the small of your back the whole way there.

By the time you got to the boys dorm, Sirius let out a shuddering breath as he dropped his bag and turned to you as he opened his arms.

"Come 'ere sweets." he called to you, and you immediately fell into his waiting embrace.

Remus followed up behind you and soon, you were in the middle of a Sirius-Remus sandwich as they rubbed soothingly at your sides and peppered kisses on your head.

"You know they're wankers, right?" Remus finally asked.

You snorted at him before nodding against Sirius' chest.

"We love your voice, and your accent, and your jokes. We can't get enough of it, baby." Sirius added.

"Stop." You moaned.

"It's true!" Remus interjected, before Sirius continued.

"Honest, I almost told James to shut his fucking mouth 'cause I couldn't hear by sweet lovie over all of his yapping. You're always on me about being rude, though, so I bit my tongue. You're welcome."

You chuckled at that, and you swore could feel both boys smile above you.

"There you are; I missed that sound." Remus said, punctuated by a kiss to your temple.

"I have some studying to do, but I was wondering if you could read my textbook to me while I took notes?" Sirius asked you. You looked up expecting to see a smirk on his face but were surprised to see a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a shy smile on his mouth.

"Wait, really?" You asked incredulously.

He huffed a laugh but held strong. "Yes, really! I wasn't kidding; I love the sound of your voice."

"Maybe later you can read my novel to me too?" Remus asked shyly from behind you.

You couldn't help but laugh at the two of them. Whether they were just appeasing you or not, you couldn't help but admit the sound of you reading to them for the rest of the afternoon sounded really nice.

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shuinami · 8 months

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Part 1: What Exactly is Hobie’s Accent and Who Has It?

Part 2: When, Where, Why (Black Londoner Culture since Windrush) | Part 3: How (Writing Tips)

As a black Londoner, a large reason Hobie is so special to me is because I really saw and heard myself in him, while also not seeing a stereotype or typical, lacking in nuance portrayal of a black Londoner.

A lot of people have given great advice about how to write the dialogue of a British person; however, though the U.K. is a small place, different areas, like anywhere, have very different cultures and accents. Even somewhere as geographically small as London has a few different native accents, as many of you have picked up on, Cockney is one but there is also Received Pronunciation (RP), Estuary English and the one Hobie uses for most of his intro: Multicultural London English (MLE).

I’m an MLE user myself, as are most black Londoners, including Daniel Kaluuya (who voices Hobie and was asked to make the dialogue sound authentic). Aside from tilting my head in slight confusion at some of the slang floating around the fandom, one of the last times I rewatched the movie, I noticed Hobie actually only uses one relatively ubiquitous Cockney phrase… and apparently, it was used inauthentically? On the other hand, he uses quite a few MLE phrases and constructions but it seems few people represent that in their fan content.

It made me want to give my two cents and some advice on how to write the dialogue of an MLE user since I haven’t seen anyone do something like this yet.

In addition, I wanted to give a little bit of context about life as a black Londoner, since Windrush brought the first mass migration of black people to England in 1948 until now, since it’s another thing that I haven’t seen anyone talk about how it differs from the typical depictions of British life. And also how that intersected with punk culture and what it says about Hobie. Everyone is entitled to their personal interpretations but, of course, as someone who Hobie’s a bit closer to home for than most, I felt a lot of people are missing a key part of who he is without understanding the youth culture of black Londoners.

To answer these questions, I think it would be good to put names to the four main London accents so you can understand exactly what Hobie’s purposefully mixed accent is made up of and the one thing it is not.

I also want to say before we get into it that some people have unique accents/accents that may not seem to match their status or ethnicity, etc. so it’s not that nobody speaks using other accents but if we hear it, it would be noticeable.

Starting off, we have Received Pronunciation which is that posh, fancy and stuffy accent you probably first associated a British accent with. This is the accent of the rich, associated with types who go to private schools like Eton, with the royals’ accents and political figures. Nothing to do with Hobie.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there’s Cockney. Cockney is an interesting one; it’s a term referring to people that are from East London, and according to Google “traditionally one born within the hearing of the Bow Bells” which means in earshot of the bells of St Mary-le-Bow Church.

The term is also used to cover the accent and slang; the Cockney accent is not necessarily exclusive to Cockney people but rather is one that, nowadays, floats around the working class. The culture, on the other hand, such as familiarity with rhyming slang and stuff like eating jellied eels is not so ubiquitous amongst the working class not from the area. An example of a Cockney with this accent would be Danny Dyer, who plays Mick Carter in EastEnders and some of the other characters also have a proper Cockney accent. Here’s an iconic clip from EastEnders that showcases the Cockney accent lol

youtube

However, there is a more general accent, which refers to the varying mixtures of RP and cockney that most Londoners have: Estuary English. The estuary in the term refers to the Thames Estuary in the South East of England, near but outside of London. The accent is not locked there, however, and extends to London, especially as people have tended to move further out from London with time due to housing prices and thus accents of outer and inner parts of London mix. It’s not associated with class the way the other two previous accents are.

There are no clear boundaries between Estuary English and Cockney, mainly due to upward mobility and movement around London. I’m not a linguist so it’s hard to describe but I would personally say that proper Cockney has some ways of pronouncing things that even Estuary English speakers on the Cockney end of the spectrum don’t typically do.

Some examples I would consider Estuary English or more typical accents would be those of people like Amelia Dimoldenberg (chicken shop girl 😂) and Tom Holland; on the more Cockney end of this accent, you’d have people like Adele (who I’m pretty sure has Cockney family members).

Then there’s Multicultural London English, influenced mainly by the dialects of the ethnic immigrants that have come to the U.K., most notably Jamaican Patois but also, more recently, borrowing a lot from West African Pidgin languages, as well as some words and phrases here and there from other immigrant communities. Most black people speak MLE and many other ethnic Londoners do too, as due to the effects of colonization and structural racism, many are relegated to the working classes and live in community together. Examples of this accent would be John Boyega, Jasmine Jobson, Letitia Wright and, of course, Daniel Kaluuya.

Now that we’ve got the accents down, which does Hobie have?

While the term Cockney is thrown around a lot, there is a strong implication that Hobie was born and raised in Camden, especially given the casting of Daniel Kaluuya, who was born and raised in that area himself.

Here’s a map of London, I split us up based on how I understand people typically refer to it, which is a mix of geography, government designation and postcodes. The rainbow in the middle is considered Central London, it’s a very commercial and touristy area, where all our classic landmarks are and it’s very expensive to live there.

Part of the borough of Camden is in central London and, currently, it starts to get more residential near Camden Market, which is 3 miles away from St Mary-le-Bow-Church, aka. The Bow Bells. A true Cockney is said to be within 3 miles or earshot of the bells (for geographical reasons, the sound carries more East). I’m not sure about the balance of residential to commercial areas in the 70s, although apparently, the area near Camden Lock was industrial. London has changed and expanded over time so someone from an east-most part of Camden at a point probably would have been easily counted as Cockney but I have no clue about the timeline. It’s uncertain whether or not Hobie would fit the criteria but if he was born today, Hobie definitely wouldn’t be considered or consider himself a Cockney.

So again, while there’s no clear distinction of what makes a Cockney accent, Hobie is probably not a Cockney (unless you hc as such).

Does that mean he uses Estuary English? I would say no. I think his accent is predominantly Cockney and he uses some of the slang, as most Londoners do, but being black and not from East London, he mostly uses MLE slang and sentence constructions.

I believe this was the creative intention, given the casting of Daniel Kaluuya, most known for his roles in movies tackling black issues, and the freedom he was given to make the dialogue authentic, meaning Hobie’s blackness is a core part of his character design for Spider-Verse. You can also hear Daniel exaggerating the accent for Hobie at points; as he’s said himself, it’s not just his regular accent, which might not be too obvious to those not so used to London accents. It's a more Cockney accent, particularly in the intro, that he’s putting on instead of speaking normally, despite not necessarily using much Cockney lingo. Bear in mind, that Daniel naturally has a stronger Cockney twang to his natural speaking voice than a lot of MLE speakers.

Returning to the point that the one Cockney phrase, “scooby doo” was used inauthentically; it’s worth noting that you’ll be hard-pressed to find an up-to-date and thorough reference or guide on how to write the use of Cockney slang authentically because Cockney is a somewhat dated culture. For example, jellied eels? Not a common thing anymore, Some people, probably older East Londoners, still do eat them but extremely few places sell them and most of us will have never even seen them in our lives. As mentioned above, upward mobility along with people moving around means that the accent, slang and general culture have been watered down over time. On top of that, a lot of East London has been gentrified, such as the Isle of Dogs (in Tower Hamlets), which has had Canary Wharf transformed - a mall, a business centre and a major transport link and Stratford (in Newham), which has similarly had a giant mall and major transport links added to it.

Some Cockney rhyming slang stuck and is known to all Londoners, such as “telling porkies/porky pies” and “copper”. “I ain’t got a scooby (doo)” is a more common one, although not even that is known to all. Typically, Cockneys only say the first half of the rhyming slang phrase (even if it no longer rhymes). I couldn’t tell you which Cockney rhyming slang phrases have been absorbed into more general London vocab other than those, because again, it’s not used as most lists you could probably find online have it written out in full but know that a lot of phrases have been absorbed.

Cockney slang is an oral tradition of the working class and so until more recently, when literacy rates went up, probably wouldn’t have been written, on top of people tending to write in standard English instead of using slang when writing. Unless you’re talking to a boomer/gen-x/older millennial from East London, it’s not so likely that you could read off a list of cockney phrases to a Londoner and they would be familiar with them. Because Daniel Kaluuya and I’m guessing the other people involved in writing Hobie’s dialogue aren’t Cockneys, well, that’s how we ended up with what we got.

So, whilst a dated dialect probably would be perfect for Hobie, it’s hard to get right or for it to read as natural to a Londoner because it’s difficult to pinpoint people that still talk like that on a regular basis, even in East London and it’s ESPECIALLY not black people/MLE users that talk like that these days. Cockney Rhyming slang was code language, after all so it figures that it’s a bit elusive.

Funnily enough, Hobie’s use of MLE is probably a slight anachronism, a little ahead of his time. Because the mass migration of Caribbeans began in 1948, by the 70s, most young black people would be the first big wave of second gens or immigrants themselves; ‘Black British’ culture would’ve still been quite young and not had enough time to carve itself as its own thing. The MLE we (including Hobie in the movie) use today started to really be what it is today in the 90s. Point being, you’re not going to find documentation of black Londoners from the 70s or early 80s who talk like Hobie.

Basically… Hobie’s accent is not authentic to the time period so if you wanted to write a historically authentic accent/slang… then you probably wouldn’t really write one… buuut it’s less fun and less Hobie! So let’s learn about black British youth culture and racism in London since the 70s, then we can understand the context in which the language is used before we learn the lingo + how to use it 😎

#I FUCKED UP THE MAP COLOURS BRENT AND HARROW ARE NW NOT WEST #atsv fanfiction #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider punk #shui fic #shuinami

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kaicubus · 7 months

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Being with Victor Van Dort

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, no cursing, sweet victor, some implied sexual headcanons but it's not a sexual movie i just LOVE victor so bad ugh i need him, kaicubus british accent.

pairing ✩° : victor van dort x mostly gn!reader

authors note ✩° : nothing is done about him so as usual, i'm stepping up to the plate. tall skinny emo boy IM COMING FOR YOU. why do i want to do more? thinks. i'm trying to get my halloween fics out guys i promise...

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To say Victor would do anything for you in and outside of his power is such an understatement. He has such little power in what he does compared to other people, especially suitable bachelors, but he tries so hard with what he has.

You two meet because your parents need you two to be wed, so of course, he's a stranger. A very kind, and understanding stranger who at times feels like he's so brittle around you he'll break at any second.

He bumps into you? Victor scurries away. You look at him? Victor slams himself into the wall in the process. He kind of loses composure around you.

When he warms up to you eventually, Victor actually talks about his interests a lot. You find out he's an excellent musician, talented in piano and violin, an exceptional artist, and he's an avid reader who enjoys dark poetry.

He's still very insecure about the idea of you loving him or at least liking him, but he'll never bother you with questions because he doesn't want to seem needy (but he is so needy). If his insecurities do get the best of him, Victor will ask gently, "Do you actually like me? If not, I get it. I'm not rich nor strong enough to support and provide for us, I just want to be sure." Of course, you answer him honestly and he's over the moon when you tell him you actually do love him.

Victor notices things about you that no one else would notice, like the amount of moles you have on your left arm, if you prefer crowded areas or not, and if you cut your hair just a few inches to the point where it's not even that noticeable.

Speaking of, if you're ever at a ball or a place where there's a lot of people and you're not comfortable with crowds, Victor will take you away to a secluded area and calm you down from there.

He is overly apologetic. Sometimes it gets slightly annoying with how much he does it, but you never react negatively and always reassure him. Victor will apologize even if you're the one who caused something, blaming it all on himself so you don't feel bad at all.

Victor's love language is surely words of affirmation as he loves to give you endearing complements but also he feels good receiving them. He doesn't expect anything, because that's the least of your worries he thinks, but even so much as a simple flick of his hair and saying how nice it looks that day drives him absolutely mad.

However, when he compliments you, he's never short of charming. Victor catches you off guard sometimes when he reminds you how 'ravishing you look' or 'how you put the stars to shame with your glittering smile.' Usually he draws parallels with you and the stars, moon, sun, or flowers. He always makes you feel seen.

Naturally, as your husband, Victor is protective over you. He's never one to start a fight over a worthless scum trying to flirt with you, but he's not shy to let his presence be known and to grab you by the waist into his thin frame.

Calls you my love, darling, my beloved, and gorgeous.

Loves receiving. Victor will never ask anything of you, sure, but he won't deny it when it happens. He loves being kissed first, he loves being pulled down to kiss you, he loves being marked in hickeys especially on his collar bone, all of that.

One very specific thing is that Victor really enjoys dressing you and putting your makeup on. There's just something about the silent intimacy of sliding on your dress, gliding the thin fabric of tights on, tightening your corset, and delicately lining your lips with a dark, rose red lipstick that he loves so much. Even if he can't do the whole outfit, you'll still allow him to do your makeup or brush your hair.

Victor also likes things a very specific way. Not that he's controlling, he's far from it, but little things like overlined or underlined lipstick makes him fidgety. He'll swipe his thumb over your cupid's bow if that's the case and pretend like nothing happened.

He writes long, lengthy love letters. Sometimes explicit ones if he isn't there with you. He's uh, good at writing!

Victor shivers a lot. Take that as you will.

Loves painting portraits of you.

#kaicubus #corpse bride #corpse bride victor #victor corpse bride #victor van dort #tim burton #corpse bride fanfiction #corpse bride fic #corpse bride preferences #victor van dort x reader #victor van dort x you #victor van dort x y/n #preferences #headcanons #victor van dort headcanons #halloween #halloween fanfic #halloween writing #tim burton film

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fishsticksloser · 8 months

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If it's alright - And if it's not then i understand if you're going to delete this - to request about Rise! Future! Leonardo x Rabbit yokai!fem!Reader? (NSFW S3x), where Leonardo and reader get into roleplaying as cowboy Shierff and an outlaw female criminal. Leonardo is the dominating one while reader is the submit side.

And yes it would involve things like; ropes tying, rough S3x, Leonardo getting to cowboy accent (?)

/ 🐔 Anon reader /

If You Can't Be Good, Be Bad With Me

f!Leo x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut with a tiny plot, p in v, rough sex, light bondage (handcuffs), ear and tail pulling, spanking, slight Sir kink, Leo has a country accent, Leo calls you a good/bad girl (sue me...), rabbit yo'kai!reader, FAKE guns, swearing, enemies to lovers if you squint really really hard

A/N: I've spent like 2 months writing this because I was just sitting there looking at it and going "wtf do I do?" But here you are, so sorry for the wait. I actually threw out the first draft because I hated it so much... This is a little different than the prompt and I apologize, my brain couldn't do it. :/

"My, my, my... What have we here?" Leonardo's voice was deep, soothing, and with a faint drawl that spoke of Texas. His words were slow and measured, just before he'd bring the hammer down with that thunderous attention. Leo squinted at you, narrowing his gaze before slowly walking towards you. "You look like you're on the wrong side of the law there, doll." Leo stops in front of you, hands on his hips just above his holsters. "What're you doin' on this here land, Miss?"

"Doin' what I can to survive, sheriff." You answer, continuing to stuff your pockets and bag with whatever was in reach. You seemed completely unbothered that the sheriff was standing over and watching you. "Is that a crime?"

"Well yes, it is." Leo responds cooly, his stance loose and relaxed despite you obviously committing a crime. His hands hover over his holsters, his tone becomes more intimidating. "The punishment for those crimes tends to be less uh... agreeable. And yet... I could be lenient with you." Leo's face softens as he looks down at the small, humanoid rabbit. He kneels down to get a better look. "And what exactly is in your pockets, little one? Come now, let's have a look."

You open your bag and empty your pockets. Its not like you were stealing much of anything really. Some bread and not so valuable things like knick knacks and trinkets. Nothing that's really worth anything.

"No guns?" He mutters, eyeing you up and down with a sly, teasing smirk. "That makes things so much sweeter." Leo's eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he stand up. His gaze seems to study every little crevice in your face, taking note of your expressions, trying to figure out everything about you. "You're not from these parts, are ya, darlin'? What's your pretty face doin' so far down south?"

"Got kicked outta town for not marryin' my suitor. Left with nothin'." You repond, repacking your bag and pockets. "Train only took me this far..."

"Not bein' married? Why, now that's a crime against the holy union of man and woman, darlin', 'specially out here." Leo shakes his head placing a hand on his face, feigning disgust. His other hand still rests on his holster. "Can't just leave you out here in this hot dust storm." Leo's eyes flicker up to your face and he grins widely.

"I've got nowhere to go." You say, pleading. "Please just let me go, I'll... I'll go find a place to settle down and be law abiding."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't let that happen, darlin'," Leo responds, his tone slowly becoming slightly more forceful. "The folks 'round these parts say you've done some unsavory and illegal things. I can't just let a law-breaker roam free like that." Leo seems to enjoy your pleas, leaning in more. He leans his body close to yours, whispering close to your ear. "Unless you want to do something for me..."

"And what would that be, sir?" You ask quietly, a shiver running down your spine as his breath fans over your ear. Leo grins as he leans in, his lips inches from your ear.

"You could do all sorts of things for me. It's such a shame for a pretty little thing like you to be caught for crimes you definitely didn't do. But, I'm feeling generous today, and, as the local lawman, I can definitely overlook your sins, darlin'." The corner of his lips curl into a smug grin. "All for a few private favors from you."

"You catch my drift?" He asks, his voice talking on a more predatory tone as his fingers graze down your waist and back. His hot breath caresses down the back of your neck, his eyes burning into your form before glancing back at your own. "Such a delicate, pretty thing..."

"Yes, sir. I understand." You mutter, your ears standing tall and twitching slightly.

"Good girl." He whispers as he leans in close. "And you know if you do well, maybe I could be generous and let you off of that punishment." Leo's voice comes out low and smooth, almost sultry as he leans back just enough to let his fingers stroke along the side of your face. "All you have to do is play nice, understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod firmly, his eyes seem to study you once more. His fingers slide down and grasp your chin, gently tilting your face upwards as his other hand reaches for your waist.

"Good girl." He says, his eyes burn like hot coals as he bring your face inches from his. "And you know, when I get back to town, I have to write a report. And if I see my girl following through with our little arrangement, I'll make sure they know what a good girl you've been. If you're a good girl. Got it, darlin'?"

Who knew you'd end up here?

"Yes, sir."

"Mm... That's a good girl." Leo whisper as he closes the last few inches between you and him, pushing his lips against yours in a quick but firm kiss. He pulls back slowly before speaking. "You don't mind if I let these hands wander now, do you, darlin'?"

"No, sir." You mumble as he kisses you again, eyes fluttering closed and your hands move to cup the back of his head. Leo grins as he continues to kiss you, his body slightly tilting to get a better grip on you. HIs right hand wraps around your waist and pulls you closer as his left searches through his pocket for something. He fumbles around for a bit more before pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

"Oh, and I almost forgot. Can't be letting my pretty, lawbreaker darlin' roam free... 'specially after getting caught." He chuckles and beings to fasten your arms behind your back with the cuffs. You don't protest, letting him fit the cuffs on your wrist comfortably. "Good girl. Now, I have just the punishment in mind." He says with a smirk, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. His other hand grips your chin as he kisses your neck softly. "Maybe I could show you what being a good girl for me would get you, darlin'. If you play your cards just right, I might be feeling generous with another reward."

You let out a small whine, basically having no other option and really not in the mood to say no. You give him a small nod and tilt your head to the side to give him better access. His lips meet your neck again, travelling upwards to finally find those sweet, soft lips of yours.

"That's an obedient girl... You know, you're lucky I like good girls. I mean, you could be in big trouble if you had been a bad girl." He whispers, his hands massaging your hips, slowly sliding them upwards. Leo decides that his lips are not the only way of satisfying the desires, sliding his hand under your dress, his fingers running over that soft, silky skin. His eyes are burning with hunger, the heat of the desert finally getting to him. The heat of his breath blowing across your body, breath mingling, your lips coming together in a hungry kiss.

꒦꒷⚔️꒷꒦

Everything's a blur, but you find yourself in the sheriff's station. Leonardo laughs a little at all that nonsense before pulling your head up enough for another kiss. He holds you by the ears, he smacks his hand harder on your ass with your tail twitching with every hit. Your dress bunched up around your waist as you bend over his desk, your legs spread wide apart, offering yourself to him completely.

The desk creaks under both of you, his lips on your neck as he rocks into you, your bodies meeting with a wet slapping sound. You're open for him. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, your mouth left hanging open, moans echoing throughout the room.

"Oh yeah, take that, darlin'!" He whispers, his voice thick with a low purr as he grabs on to your hips. "You're my good girl." He moves down to your ear, his lips nuzzling against it.

You moan, standing in your toes so he hits a better angle. You moan loudly as he hits that soft spot inside you. Your legs shake and you ball my fists in the part of your dress you could reach, you arms still cuffed. You feel his hand connect with your ass with a loud smack and you squeak, jolting at the sting. "Good girl," he breathes, his voice low and husky as he rocks into you harder, going a little faster. He bites on the side of your neck before whispering to you ear. "Such a good girl, darlin'.. you'll get it good.." He lets off a low hum to match the pace of his thrusts.

He brings his free hand down to your tail before giving it a light tug, laughing as you squirm and whine. "Aww, such a good, sweet thing," he sighs, his tone low and husky before biting on your neck again. "I love the way you take it so well, darlin'.. you're so good for me, such a sweet darlin'," he whispers to you, pulling you closer so he can kiss the side of your face.

He spanks you hard one final time before moving his hands over to tug on your ears, holding them tightly in his fists as he goes even harder and faster, his hips bucking aggressively to meet your thighs. "Such a good girl!" He whispers, his voice turning low and throaty as his eyes bore into yours. "Take it all, darlin'.. such a good girl!"

"C-Close, sir!" You whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. He tilts your head up to look at him, but makes sure to keep your body against the desk for him. It puts you into an uncomfortable arch.

Leonardo moans loudly, his expression turning more feral with every thrust as he rocks into you. His hips moving as forcefully as he could, he pushes harder and harder like he was trying to drive you through the desk, his free hand still holding onto your ears. Finally, his climax is about to peak and he lets out an, "Ahhhh… such a good girl, darlin'.."

At your releases, Leo lets out a groan and lets his thrusts die down a bit, pressing against your back with his chest as he slowly rocks into you. His face is buried deep into your neck, "Shhh... be a good girl.. be my good girl for me," he whispers to you, his voice low and husky. His free hand is playing with your tail, rubbing it up and down before giving it another tug for good measure and he slowly pulls out. "Such a good girl..." He murmurs, letting go of your ears and giving you a light tap on your ass.

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findafight · 1 year

Text

Ohhh fic where Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica all casually make funny little haha jokes with each other about getting tortured/almost caught by the Russians under Starcourt because they all have that shared trauma and had many a long late night calls reassuring each other they're alive and playing dnd together and fulfilling lifetime supply of icecream obligations.

They do this because sure the rest of the party knew there were Russians under Starcourt but everything they went through in that basement was sorta...forgotten in the aftermath of literal flesh monster. And with Hopper dead and the Byers moving, there's so much happening that whatever happened to Steve's face (lost another fight...) and why he and Robin went from mildly antagonistic co-workers to codependent goobers who couldn't go literally a day without seeing the other or what made Dustin always ask if Erica was going to come for party hang outs are all sort of brushed under the rug. Not a big deal, really. Bigger things happening after everything.

And they cope together and scoops troop is a weird little section of the party no one but them really understands. Robin and Steve are attached at the hip and to a lesser extent so are Erica and Dustin (but they'll never admit it), and they all have mini gatherings together.

So, the casual mentioning of starcourt and specifically what went down with the Russians is commonplace for them. (Erica is quick to remind them she saved their asses, and are they so lame they need her help again? but she smiles and Steve and Robin just laugh and give her a big hug.) And somehow, they forget that not everyone really knows what went down before July 4th 1985.

And I want them to do it in front of everyone. I want them to have their stupid "this was so fucked up but we're alive and we got through it so now we have to laugh or we may never stop crying about it" banter at a big "we saved the world again!" Barbecue. I want the rest of the folks there to go silent and them not to notice.

I want someone to mention Steve not getting a black eye this time, congrats! and Robin going "the only reason why I didn't get one last time was because the Russians said-"

And Steve, who is lying with his head in her lap, reaches up to gently cup her cheek and says in a terrible Russian accent "don't worry, we will not ruin your pretty face!" (everyone is quiet around them, they do not notice)

She laughs. "And punched me in the gut a few more times. I peed blood for like, three days."

Steve goes "ewwww" only to be pinched by robin.

"you peed blood too, dingus. You got it worse than me and my pretty face."

He giggles and opens his hand up for a high five "pissing blood buddies, hell yeah!" And shifts in her lap. "But they bruised my pretty face. Rude."

"aww. It's okay, Stevie, your face is still so pretty. Prettiest boy in Hawkins."

"thanks Robin."

"at least Dustin and Erica got us out before they started ripping out fingernails." She shudders.

"or used the bonesaw"

"mmm. Unfortunately not before we got funky truth serum drugs though."

He leans up, looking at the two "y'all couldn't have been a bit faster?" But he's smiling, teasing. A well worn joke.

Dustin and Erica respond simultaneously with "I'm missing bones, Steve, what do you want from me?" And "I was ten and my legs were short as shit. Beggars can't be choosers." Respectively.

It is at this point an Actual Grown Up butts in.

"what. What do you mean ripping out fingernails?"

Robin and Steve look towards Joyce, who asked.

"like. To interrogate us? Because we just kept saying we worked for scoops even with the truth serum."

"because they thought we had to be superspies to get into their creepy lair and not a bunch of kids."

"mmhmm"

Hopper jumps in "wait. You were tortured by them?"

Robin and Steve give him eerily similar looks that express how obvious the answer to that is.

"yeah, duh."

"I don't go looking to get brain damage every year, you know."

Hoppers eye twitches. "Why didn't you say anything?"

#steve Harrington #robin Buckley #erica sinclair #dustin henderson #scoops troop #the party #stranger things #platonic stobin #stobin #i want eddie to be the only one who knows bc they were assigned to fill him in on the upsidedown so obvs it came up #and he is like that is so fucked up but i guess it works for you? hopefully?#steddie #mayhaps....if i ever write more of this lmao #finda writes stuff #finda's rambles

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darkbluekies · 2 months

Note

Hey if you don't mind me asking, what are you working on rn?

Why don't i show a few of them? :)

Autocorrect will stand for the weird things I will hopefully take care of when editing

dbs SS Normandie (project name) — all 5, male detective reader [releases 11th may]

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, cocking your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly.

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says.

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.”

(Have two smaller parts because the other teasers became longer)

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry.

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding.

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip.

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by.

Foreign queen (project name) — Edmund, female reader

You sit down on the bed with your head in your lap, waiting for something to happen. The castle makes sounds, as if it is trying to communicate … and for the moment it is the closest thing to comprehensible you can hear.

The door unlock again and you look up from your hands, only to be met by the king. He closes the door behind him. You freeze. He lets his eyes wander over you with a small smile.

“Beautiful”, he says.

“What do you want?” you whisper.

“You have a beautiful voice when you don’t yell or cry. Shame I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

He moves over to the bed, standing in front of you. You look up at him. He moves his hand slowly towards your face to move a piece of your hair out of your eyes. You sit frozen under his touch, too scared to move. The man points to himself.

“Edmund”, he says.

You recognise a name when you hear it.

“Edmund?” you whisper hesitantly.

He smiles and nods. Your accent makes his name feel new, personalized. It’s your name for him.

“Yes, Edmund, that’s right”, he says and points at you. “You?”

“Y/N …”, you whisper.

Edmund stands still for a moment before his smile widens. Hearing your name makes him feel euphoric.

“Y/N”, he says, tasting your name on his tongue. “Y/N.”

Edmund smiles.

Sick (project name) — hedwig, gender neutral reader

The chauffeur helps you up the stairs as you enter the georgian mansion. Your legs give up halfway and you almost crash into the stairs. The chauffeur grabs you quickly.

“Sorry”, you whisper.

“Don’t be”, he says.

He leaves you on Hedwig’s bed and asks if there is something he can get you. You shake your head. Even if you did need something, you still feel weird asking random people to get it for you. the few times you’ve done that, you’ve offered to pay but they’ve always turned it down. You’re not Hedwig, you aren’t used to having a dozen people do things for you. You have your own two hands and legs and are fully capable of doing things yourself.

“Should I get you some medicine?” the chauffeur asks. “I’m sure miss Hedwig would like it if I do.”

You give up, your head aching too much to discuss what you do or don’t need. You agree to him buying the medicine. As soon as he leaves, you change into your pajamas and tuck yourself in, hugging Hedwig’s teddy bear. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, there's a faint knock on the door. You pry your eyes open slightly to see the chef sneak in.

“What should I do for you?” he asks.

“Hedwig recommended soup”, you mumble.

“In that case I will make soup.”

He disappears again. You fall asleep within minutes and doesn’t notice when the chef comes in with steaming carrot soup, or when the chauffeur comes with the medicine. You first wake up when Hedwig leaves kisses over your face.

“I’m sorry for waking you, sweetheart”, she whispers apologetically, caressing your face. “But I got worried. You haven’t touched the soup or the medicine at all.” She feels your forehead softly. “Have you taken your temperature yet?”

“I have been sleeping”, you explain and cough loudly.

Hedwig furrows her brows worriedly and helps you sit up. She smiles as she sees you hugging her teddy. You cough again and she caresses your hair, looking as worried as if you'd have cut your arm off.

Like father, like son — Edmund + his son Ludwig, female reader

Edmund returns a few days later when everyone is asleep. Ludwig meets him in the hall and fixes his hair quickly.

“Welcome back, father”, he says.

“Has everything gone smoothly?” Edmund asks nonchalantly. “Has my wife done anything she shouldn’t?”

“She hasn’t!”

Edmund smiles. “That’s my girl. Well, where is she? Is she sleeping?”

“I believe so, father. She has been feeling a little … down … so …”

Edmund twirls around and gives him a stern gaze.

“What?” he asks coldly.

“I haven’t let her out of her room since the day you left. She has been forced to rest.”

Edmund practically runs to your shared chamber, wanting to get to you as quick as possible. He opens the door to find you sleeping in the bed. He sinks down on his knees in front of you and brushes the hair out of your face. You open your eyes slowly and he smiles.

“Hi, my jewel”, he whispers lovingly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Edmund”, you gasp, somehow happy that he’s back, that you don’t have to deal with Ludwig anymore.

He hugs you and brings your face into his neck. His arms sneak around your waist.

“Ludwig has been telling me that you’ve been feeling a little down”, he whispered into your hair. “What happened, my dear?”

“Nothing”, you replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. Tell me.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere king #yandere doctor #yandere female #yandere rich girl #male reader #female reader #yandere teaser

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anatee · 1 year

Text

Fantasy | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut

Fantasy | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut One Shot. 18+. MINORS DNI.

Word count: 4.3K

Content warning: fem!reader x Kylo; a few curse words; jealous, possessive Kylo, one tiny bit of violence (not smut-related), inappropriate use of the Force, smut: thigh riding, fingering, oral (f receiving), size difference (and kink ig lol), piv (unprotected), filth really

Author’s note: What bothers me in many Kylo smuts is that he is excessively ruthless. And while I do agree this man is no softie in bed, sometimes the degradation goes so far it’s actually a turn-off to me, so here we have this, the man’s still the leader but doesn’t make you feel like scum ig

"Why did you invite me here?"

Y/N was still shocked she found herself in Kylo Ren's quarters. They had known each other even before she became a First Order soldier, but it was the first time she got to visit him. She didn't know why: ever since she started her military career, she saw him only a few times, and always with his mask on, either arguing with General Hux or walking aggressively maker knows where.

They didn't even talk much, busy with their own duties, however this part changed two weeks earlier. He started approaching her often, talking to her even if he didn't need to and, eventually, asked to come with him. She followed him gladly, but in utter shock at the same time, not quite understanding what he was trying to achieve.

Yet there she was, alone with him in the private quarters while almost everyone else on the ship was going to bed.

It was the first time she was even near his room. Twice the size of her quarters, it was mostly black with red accents just like every interior of the First Order. Everything was dimly lit by one source of light, and it didn't seem like he wanted it any brighter. He gestured for her to sit on a metallic, circular chair while he approached a weird piece of furniture resembling a well filled with ashes instead of water. And then, to her surprise, he took his helmet off to put it there.

He turned to face her, making her jaw drop. She had seen him before, of course, but it was a long time ago. He matured a lot.

"Wow," she breathed out before she could stop herself. "I... I almost forgot how you look like."

"You like it?" he asked with a smirk dancing on the corners of his mouth.

This question made her gulp, because she knew about the Force, she knew that Kylo could read her mind like an open book if he wanted. He even tried to show her the ways of the Force years before, but it wasn't strong with her. That's why she worried...

She worried he knew how attractive she had always found him, and now even more so. Black, thick hair, broad shoulders, the face that looked young and mature at the same time. He was much more pleasant to look at without the mask, although the act of taking it off was hot by itself.

"Is this your way of asking if you're attractive to me?" she retorted, trying to save herself as her First Order uniform suddenly became much warmer.

"You've been on my mind recently."

Her heart jumped for a moment. She threw her ponytail back, but even though she didn't have her hat on anymore, it still felt very hot... And she wanted to keep it cool.

"Is that so? Why?" She raised an eyebrow, engulfed in a weird feeling. She hadn't looked him in the eye for a long time and it made her heart race.

"I saw you have been talking to this one guy lately."

"You mean Admiral Fando?"

Kylo's face was almost expressionless. "Whatever his name is."

"Well, yes, he approaches me often. Tries to be funny, I sup..."

"I don't like him talking to you," Kylo cut her off sharply, rendering her speechless for a moment. She thought she had long forgotten the feelings she used to have for him before joining the army, but when he was saying things like this, it was impossible to stay calm.

She cleared her throat eventually. "Why?"

At that moment, as if she weren't shocked enough by everything he was doing, he sat beside her, making her feel extremely small, both literally and metaphorically. He was huge next to her... And one could almost feel the power vibrating, whirling all around him. It must have been part of why he was so intimidating.

His face was less than ten inches from hers as he leaned towards her to say quietly:

"Because I don't like any man trying to court you."

She swallowed hard, because even if it weren't her he was threatening, he looked murderous, and she knew what he was capable of. "You think he's trying to?"

"Don't be delusional, Y/N. Why else would he do this?"

She knew this question would be very risky, but she asked nevertheless.

"And why are you doing this?" She looked down, then back up at him, trying to understand the situation they found themselves in.

There was a moment of silence, silence so tense Y/N feared they might lose oxygen from the room soon. Kylo was piercing her with his gaze, so intensely it almost made her dizzy.

"You know that I can hear your thoughts. I don't look into them at all, but once... Once they were so loud..."

He moved his face closer to speak straight to her ear. The moment she felt his hot breath tingle her skin, she was hopeless; she had a strong inkling she knew what kind of thoughts he was talking about, and waiting for the confirmation like for a sentence.

"I know your fantasy," he whispered in his deep voice. "I know about everything you want to be done to you. I heard it loud and clear."

Each word was almost like a separate touch between her legs.

Suddenly everything made sense. The dates aligned - she remembered that night her thoughts went wild, her mind playing out every erotic scenario she wanted to experience while she pleasured herself on her bed, but didn't even get half the satisfaction she wished for. Little did she know it made him realise how much he desired her, how much he wanted to act out his own dreams with her, and he decided he would make it happen.

Y/N was surprised herself, but she was not embarrassed at all while listening to him - on the contrary, it was turning her on, and the only fear she had was that he knew her emotions.

"Well, thinking that is not an offence..." she replied breathily, not daring to think he had something else on his mind other than scolding her, even if deep down she wanted him to have.

"That's not what I'm talking about."

He was still speaking against her ear, craning his neck from time to time to watch the expression on her face. Her lips were parted, her gaze half-lidded, and he was intoxicated by that view. Eventually, he decided he wanted to see more of it.

He put his cold, gloved hand on her hot cheek, and the feeling of the leather itself sent a shiver down her spine. All of this was the last thing she expected to be doing that day - but she wished it would never end. He never acted like this, but he always had an effect on her...

He guided her head gently so she would face him, the subtle touch almost igniting a flame between them. She was sure that if he had no gloves on, it would drive her crazy.

After a moment of silence, Kylo spoke while looking right into her eyes. "You're talking to this guy... Do you think he can do it? Do you think he can make you feel as good as you want? Do you think he could fulfil your fantasy?"

His gaze alone was penetrating her, petrifying her completely as the provoking questions echoed against the walls of the spacious room.

She gave in.

"It's not him whom I'd like to fulfil it with."

That sentence alone made him heave a sigh as blood rushed through his entire body. He didn't even need to use the Force; her eyes told him everything he wanted to know.

"Who, then?" he asked even though the answer was right there, in the way she gazed at him.

They both felt that question between their legs.

The only thing stopping him from ripping clothes off of her was that he wanted to do this right, especially now that he knew she desired him just as much. Besides, he would love to catch her off guard one day...

"You could have just told me," he said, making her snort.

"You could have not entered my thoughts."

"You will thank me for doing this," he whispered against her lips, making her heart stop for a split second. She was anticipating something, anything, any touch, words, any action from him, hoping beyond hope he would let the lust from his eyes take over.

He brushed his gloved finger over her bottom lip, trying not to give into the frenzy too quickly. A smirk formed on his face as he was already planning what he'd do to her.

"Let's meet again soon."

He left her that day with arousal, disappointment and anticipation all at the same time.

The next few days were a hell to go through. Kylo Ren didn't leave her thoughts not even for a second, making focusing on her duties almost impossible. But how could she not be thinking about him when she remembered the words he had told her with the velvety voice, when the feeling of his hand still seemed to linger on her cheek? She was constantly alerted, just waiting for the moment he decides to take her back to his quarters.

To make matters worse, he realised what she was daydreaming about, and he absolutely loved it. He made sure she saw him every day so both of them would crave the other person even more, and he was just waiting for the best opportunity to show her that only he could give her the pleasure she had fantasised about.

The opportunity presented itself one calm evening, almost two weeks later, when the tension between them was so high both Kylo and Y/N wanted to throw themselves on the other at any given moment. That evening, she finished her shift and intended to go straight to her room to rest, but Admiral Fando approached her before she could even leave her console.

"Where are you headed?"

"To my quarters, where else?" she replied in a surprised tone as she stood up from her chair.

"Well, you look and smell exceptionally well today, I thought you had some other plans." He smiled at her, and she was given yet another confirmation Kylo was right about him.

But she did look and smell better. Ever since her tense encounter with Ren, she tried to take better care of her appearance, should he decide to invite her again. She shaved herself to the root and used the most deliciously smelling lotion she could access.

"Thank you, but that is just me caring about myself," she replied, making sure everything was in place for the shift coming after her.

"But if you don't have any other plans... Then maybe you'll come and visit my quarters instead."

And Kylo Ren heard that. Every word, loud and clear, even though he was far away from where Fando was standing. It railed him up immediately; this was the moment. He couldn't wait anymore.

Y/N was flabbergasted. She suspected he might eventually ask her this, but had no idea how to react once it happened.

"That is a bit unprofessional, isn't it, Admiral?" she replied half seriously, half jokingly, trying to get out of the situation.

"Oh, come on. I'm not asking anything weird," he continued. "We can just drink tea and talk."

Y/N let out a sigh. She wanted to refuse, but it was quite complicated since he was her superior and it felt like it was against the protocol.

"It's very nice of you, but I..."

"Come on, Y/N," he cut her off, moving closer to her. "I know you're not taken. Do not act unavaila..."

He trailed off because a loud gasp escaped her lips, one that was unexpected by both parties.

"What's going on?" Fando frowned.

Y/N wished she could explain. Just a moment before, she felt something touch her, like an invisible hand, right between her legs. A shiver of pleasure went down her as she realised whose hand it must have been.

Before she even opened her mouth to respond, her heart racing, she sensed presence somewhere behind herself... And soon, a man in a mask was towering over her and Fando, wrath radiating from him.

It all happened in a split second. One move of Kylo's hand was enough; Fando was thrown against the wall, then fell to the floor with a yelp of pain. Ren didn't even give him a second glance as he spoke to Y/N again:

"Follow me."

She did not dare disobey him, did not dare to check on Fando who was whimpering on the floor... She followed Ren step by step to his quarters, and the moment the door closed behind them, he cornered her.

"I told you it would come to this," he said with disappointment, trapping her between the wall and his body, enveloping her in the feeling of smallness.

"He approached me first, I just replied." She intended to respond loudly and proudly, but her voice failed her as he inched closer.

"Then I'll show you," he grabbed the sides of his helmet and took it off aggressively, "why you shouldn't even reply to scum like him." He threw the helmet into the ashes, his eyes never leaving hers.

She suppressed a shiver as he put a gloved hand under her chin. Her eyes, wide and full of admiration, were staring back at him, and he couldn't get enough of that view.

He smirked. "I should have done this sooner."

"Then stop talking and start doing already. You left me waiting for so long," she said before she could stop herself, making him sneer.

"Cocky, aren't you?" He took his hand back. "Why don't we change that?"

For a split second, fear overtook her as he took a step back, and she had no idea what he was about to do. He threw his cape off, then put one of his hands in front of him, brows furrowed in concentration.

Two invisible hands cupped her breasts at the same time, pulling out a gasp out of her yet again. This further confirmed he was the one responsible for what she felt back at the bridge. It was such a weird sensation, but a pleasurable one, something being there and not existing at the same time, vibrating, pulsating against her body while he wasn't touching her at all. He had never done this to her before.

"I-" She sighed heavily, trying to form a sentence as the large hands massaged her breasts. "I didn't know you- you could do that."

He clearly enjoyed these words as he smirked again. "See? You've underestimated me... Not the first person who has..."

He moved closer to her, maintaining the Force touch - and it made her want to act, too.

"You underestimate me as well, Kylo."

She stood on her tiptoes to grab him by the neck and bring him to her lips. Caught by surprise, he lost focus for a split second, but then quickly seized the initiative again. His invisible hands were untying her hair and taking off her hat or gloves, while his real ones were roaming her body, looking for openings in her uniform.

Minutes passed and she was beginning to lose her breath. She had never thought he'd be kissing her, yet there she was, letting his tongue in anywhere he wanted.

He eventually grabbed her buttock with his one hand and her thigh with the other, raising it so she would wrap it around him. When she did, his arm travelled to her nape, and he held it tight to kiss her hungrily. Hell, fire was flowing through him while he was doing it. Who knew her taste would be so addictive, her lips so soft he could nibble and lick them constantly? Had he known all of this, he would have been devouring her ages ago.

His kisses were hungry and demanding, making her dizzy, but that was just what she wanted. At that moment, she was so drunk on his taste, scent and noises she would allow him to do anything to her. Each of his sharp breaths, loud grunts to keep focus on the Force, the strong, fresh scent that lingered on his body... All of these things made her notice him and him only.

"Fuck," she whimpered against his lips when his real hand slipped underneath her pants. He immediately circled her clit through the material of her panties, causing her to buckle her hips.

He let out a triumphant laugh. "Look at you, and I haven't even started yet..."

The invisible hands took off her boots, and then her pants, roughly, almost causing her to lose balance. Kylo pulled her towards the circular to sit on it, and then made her settle on his thigh.

It was huge. She felt it well as she straddled it, heat from between her legs already spreading throughout her half-dressed body. She knew what he was doing; it was a picture taken straight from her mind, one of many he must have seen...

"I don't think I have to tell you your own fantasy..." he said, planting a kiss on her neck. "Ride it," he added in a commanding voice. He meant it.

The first thrust of her hips pulled a moan out of both of them. When she noticed it was already much more pleasurable than rubbing herself against furniture, she grabbed his arms as tightly as possible to steady herself and began moving back and forth.

The friction did it for him. The invisible hands took her shirt off, while the real ones grabbed her hips strongly enough to leave marks on them. She didn't restrain herself from any noises, and they turned him on more than he thought they would; his pants becoming tighter on him was the best proof of it.

That's why he didn't let her do it for long. Without any warning, he cradled her in his arms and took her to his bed. He let her lie down on the black sheets as he stood in front of her, enjoying the view - she was already soaked, just like his thigh.

"I'm taking whatever I want now," he announced to her, looking her up and down with no shame.

She just smirked, because from her new position she could see the bulge in his pants, one she knew she caused. Who knew she could have such an effect on the Kylo Ren?

"Do it," she replied with no hesitation, craving for him.

He took his gloves off and tossed them to the floor before kneeling in front of the bed. Her heart stopped just for a moment; was he really going to do it? Was he going to fulfil her another fantasy this easily?

The answer came instantly - the Force pulled her panties down, and he used his bare hands to grab her thighs to open her legs. Flesh to flesh, the sensations were even more overwhelming.

She closed her eyes, waiting for what's to come and let out a squeal when he planted a kiss on her inner thigh, massaging them at the same time.

"Open your eyes, look what's coming for you," he demanded. "He wouldn't be able to do to you what I'm about to..."

She obeyed and saw his face for a split second before his mouth came in contact with her clit. A very long lick was followed by an absolute madness of licks and sucking, almost like he took his time to prepare for it. He wanted to make her shake, and it quickly turned out it was the right way to do it as he saw her grab at the sheets out of pleasure.

The moment she moaned out his name, Kylo became drunk on the control he had over her. He let go of one of her thighs to speed up the process of her becoming undone...

"You feel good?" he asked right before sliding two fingers inside her, earning himself the loudest moan yet.

She couldn't think straight enough to give him a cohesive answer. She grabbed him by his thick hair, burying his face in her. "Fuck, Kylo."

He snorted with satisfaction. "I'll take that as a yes."

He soon added a third finger to pump in and out of her, remembering the number from her thoughts. Even she, however, didn't expect them to be this big. The sensations were indescribable; his tongue nor his fingers didn't slow down for a second, making her think she was about to have an orgasm and a heart attack.

She came. She came for the first time in months, because she couldn't quite reach that level of pleasure herself. A powerful orgasm rocked through her, her legs shaking, her breath shallow, and at that moment she was sure no other man than Kylo Ren could make her feel like that. Maybe it was the Force, maybe it was his size, maybe it was her desire for him - either way, she hadn't even hoped it would feel this good.

He let her ride it out to the end, then stood up, his face and fingers glistening - the proof of her satisfaction.

She began sitting up slowly, trying to catch her breath. "Kylo, I-"

"Stay where you are." He pressed her back into the mattress with a wave of his arm. "I am not done. I want you to not be able to think about anything else than this."

Y/N didn't even get to cool down and she was already turned on again. She watched in awe as he removed his pants and boxers, revealing his erected cock without any shame. Her mouth fell agape; not only because it was the first time seeing him naked, but also because it meant he intended to go as far as they could.

He looked at her with authority, clasping a hand around his length - as a result, she felt even smaller than in reality. If he were to interrogate her, she would be cowering, but at that moment, she was excited and waiting.

"Now, can you give me one more?" he asked quietly, his voice working wonders on her.

"Depends on what you're about to do."

"Make you beg," he used the Force to open her legs even wider, "for more."

Before she could respond, he started slowly rubbing his cock along her cunt, letting out a grunt that made her roll her eyes back. It went on for a few seconds, the sound of the wetness echoing in the room and arousing them even more.

And then, without warning, he slid into her with just the tip, then pulled out quickly. He repeated that a few times, slowly driving her insane.

"Kylo... Please..."

That's what he wanted to hear.

"Tell me what you want and you'll get it."

She gulped. The perspective of telling him what was on her mind seemed humiliating, especially that he knew exactly what she wished for.

She tried to save herself. "I cannot give orders to you."

As she expected, he did not buy it.

"Say what you want. That is my order," he replied, moving the tip once more to stimulate her further.

She closed her eyes as if bracing for impact. Alright. She could do it. It were mere words separating from another wave of pleasure. They were nothing compared to the fact that she was lying there with her legs open for him, weren't they?

She took one last deep breath. "I want you inside me."

He smiled with satisfaction. "As I thought."

He ended her torture as promised. He slid into her, slowly, because it was a lot; after all, nothing about him was small-sized.

She thought he would stay standing, but it wasn't the case. Right after a few of the first thrusts, he put his hands on either side of her body and continued dragging his body passionately, making sure to fill her up completely each time. She felt unbelievable.

"Who is making you feel good now?" he asked after hearing a moan from her, trying to hide the grunts of pleasure which were taking over him as well. "Who is the only person who can?" he rasped, keeping his head close to her neck to kiss it.

"You." She breathed heavily, her whole body shifting on the bed with each of his movements. "Only you."

He used the Force to keep himself steady and grabbed her wrists with his hands, pinning them over her head just to feel even a bit more of control. There was no mercy in his thrusts, ones he had been waiting for for days, the sexual tension finally resolving.

She didn't know if she were to have another orgasm, but he was certainly coming to one. She could hear and feel it as the powerful thrusts became sloppier, and the loudest grunt yet escaped his lips.

"You'll take it all," he almost growled, "for me."

That was his last warning before he reached his peak, letting all of it fill her up. It was insane, the whole scene, the emotions, the sounds of their breathing in the spacious room...

He placed one last desire-filled kiss on her lips, then stood up eventually, pulling out of her, leaving her with her wrists burning. She had no energy to raise again, and he stood there, watching with triumph how his cum flowed out of her.

For a moment, there was a silence, in which they both tried to regain rational thinking... And realise what had just happened, and that there was no turning back - but neither of them regretted it, not even a second. They both got what they wanted and were already thinking about repeating it.

Kylo used the Force once more to pull her closer, then put his hand under her chin again.

"You're not going to even think about anyone else now, are you?"

She smirked, still feeling his cum dripping down her thigh. "Is that your way of saying you want me only for yourself?"

"You're so right."

#kylo #kylo ren #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo smut #kylo x reader #star wars #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo smut #Star Wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #smut #kylo ren fanfiction #one shot

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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months

Text

Hobie's Canon Event

Okay, so I see a lot of people talking about how Hobie probably lost a police captain and that was his canon event and etc...

but people seem to be forgetting that this guy kills cops on a day-to-day basis

like he fucking hates cops

He hates cops to the point where he even talks about them in his intro, depicting them as pigs and smashing their heads in with his guitar

You see that? It literally shows the cop with a pig snout and pig ears 😭

"Maybe he lost a police officer that was his friend"

HUH??

Bold of you guys to assume that he'd be friends with a police officer in the first place

Hobie's character is extremely hard to understand. To this day there are still people confused about what he said in the movie, due to his thick accent and the fact that everything he said had some sort of double-meaning. He's a super well-developed character with a genuine backstory.

This is why its important to pay attention to his character instead of projecting your own emotions onto him

Gwen and Miles are easy to play around with. They say what they mean and everything they say is fairly light-hearted. The same goes for Pav, its very easy to understand what he means when he talks about something. They are also well-written characters but their dialogue isn't as deep as Hobie's.

Its a lot easier to make things up about the others without undermining their character. But you can't do that with Hobie brown while still being accurate.

Writing him requires a lot of research. It requires a lot of understanding.

I get that these are headcanons but headcanons can't be an excuse to diminish his character and what he stands for

Someone ACAB wouldn't have been friends with a police captain.

He either killed his police captain or his police captain wasn't actually a captain and was his version of Captain America (Karl) or some other superhero

It makes more sense for his canon event to have been a dog named Captain than an actual police officer.

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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

Text

A shrill beep breaks his focus, and for it he nearly gets sliced in the eye.

He just barely manages to dodge the Gladiator’s blade, ducking under its sword and rolling towards his jacket and boots, crumpled on the floor. He digs out his comm, as quickly as he can with the Gladiator hot on his tail, and glances at the new message. It’s from Lance.

sharpshooter:

keith where tf are u

sharpshooter:

please know if u miss yet another meeting i am going to kick ur ass

sharpshooter:

better yet i’m gonna have allura kick ur ass bc she actually can

sharpshooter:

know that it will be painful

Keith rolls his eyes, dropping his comm and feigning left just as the Gladiator stabs right through where his head was milliseconds prior. No longer worried that he’s missing something important, he throws himself back into the fight, matching his breathing to the clash of his sword against the Gladiator’s, the steady taps of their feet on the floor as they move, the rapid beat of his own heart. It’s easy to sink into the movement, the adrenaline; to stop thinking.

Thinking is dangerous. Thinking is painful. Thinking reminds him only of how much he’s lost, how much he’s falling short. None of that is helpful. The weight of his sword in his hand, the smell of sweat and metal, the harsh white lights of the training room — all that is helpful. All that is real.

“Kogane, you are the most irritating person in space. And that’s saying a lot, because I’m here, and I specialize in being irritating.”

The Gladiator freezes mid strike, then fades into pixels. The harsh lights dim.

Keith turns around with a scowl. Lance matches it, standing right beside the training room kill switch, arm crossed and jaw set defiantly.

“I’m trying to train, Lance.”

“No need. You’ve reached peak levels of infuriating. No more training necessary.”

Keith rolls his eyes so hard it hurts, jogging over to his water bottle and chugging half of it before dropping to the floor and doing push-ups. Whatever. Lance may have shut down the Gladiator, but Keith can train in other ways. He’ll just turn it back on when Lance leaves.

“Oh, you fucking —”

Before he can fully register what’s happening, a sharp wooshing noise gets louder, and he rolls out of the way seconds before a sword flies by his head and imbeds itself in the wall.

A very, very familiar sword, white with red accents.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Keith shouts, but Lance is already sprinting to grab his bayard, face impassive.

Keith scrambles to his feet, lunging for his own blade, barely managing to activate it and hold it in front of him to block Lance’s oncoming strike. The force of the blow is so powerful it sends a painful ripple down his arms.

Lance is just barely smirking.

“If it’s a fucking fight you want than you’ll get it,” Keith growls, spinning out of the way and putting some distance between them, adjusting his stance and tensing his shoulders.

“I don’t want a fight, douchebag. But obviously talking like grownups is too hard for your tiny little brain, so I’m going to explain this in a way you can understand.”

“You’re really shitty at one-liners,” Keith points out, aiming a thrust at Lance’s left hip, which he always leaves open.

To Keith’s delight, Lance’s smirk drops. “That’s because one-liners are stupid!” he says defensively, barely managing to swerve to the side in time to avoid serious damage. He retaliates by swinging his longsword like it’s a fucking bat, and Keith’s head is a baseball, because Lance is allergic to the real swordfighting techniques Keith has attempted to teach him. And also peanuts, but that’s not helpful right this second. “I only have one line to destroy you emotionally! Truly devastating burns are multi-layered, which is why you can never come up with them, you one-dimensional oreo thinnie!”

Keith grunts, sidestepping Lance’s attempt to stab his foot and clashing his sword at the base of Lance’s, right near the hilt, trying to disarm him. It works, but only because Lance anticipated the move, and as his sword is bent from his hand he does some sort of twisting manoeuvre with his wrist and manages to catch it, somehow. It’s infuriating.

“I stopped listening twelve percent into your sentence.”

“Well, you do that a lot, so colour me unsurprised.”

The unfiltered bitterness in Lance’s voice throws him for a loop, distracts him. He blinks, thrown-off, head out of the game.

“What?”

His distractedness costs him. Faster than he can fully track, Lance hooks his foot around Keith’s ankle, sweeping his legs out from under him, and then shoves him to the floor, pinning his wrists above his head, knee to Keith’s navel, sword to his throat. Keith tries to struggle, to either buck Lance off or angle his own sword, still clenched in his hand, back up to Lance, but he’s exhausted — he’s been training since he woke up this morning. Lance has him at a disadvantage.

“You are being a massive douchebag dumbass loser,” Lance says, panting. “I am fighting the urge to kill you for real.”

“Maybe don’t,” Keith suggests, suddenly very aware of the position they’re in and how easily Lance could drive his sword through Keith’s skull. He knows Lance won’t, or else he’d be struggling way more, but the way Lance is eyeing his own sword is certainly not helping.

Lance sighs. “We need to take a break, Keith.”

Keith frowns. “What?”

Lance sighs again, shifting off of Keith and standing, offering his hand. Keith takes it, pulling himself up, and then follows Lance over to the wall, sitting down next to him.

“What?” he repeats, when Lance doesn’t say anything for several minutes.

Lance shifts to face him, and for the first time Keith really notices the bags under his eyes, the sag of his shoulders. “We need to take a break,” he repeats. “All of us. The team. We need to do something that isn’t this —” he spreads his arm, gesturing to their swords and then between them — “all the time. We need a vacation.”

“No.” Keith barely lets him finish. He gets back to his feet, picking up his sword and heading back towards the system modulator, flipping through the different training modules. Lance follows him immediately.

“Keith —”

“No, Lance,” Keith repeats, fists clenching the edge of the computer. “This is a fucking war. There are no vacations. End of discussion.”

Lance mutters something in Spanish, too fast for Keith to pick up, but he clearly hears a few repeated instances of “cabrón”, and “comemierda”, and “tonto terco idiota que va a hacer que nos maten a todos”, none of which he can translate but he’s pretty sure he gets the general message.

“Keith.” Lance wraps an arm around Keith’s wrist, tugging him away from the training computer. “I cannot possibly understand the pain you are going through. Nothing I have ever gone through can possibly be the same as how it feels to lose a brother. For the second time, for fuck’s sake. I know that.”

Keith clenches his jaw, swallowing the lump in his throat at the mere mention of Shiro. He itches to yank his hand away, boot up the Gladiator again, and train and train and train until he can’t hear his thoughts anymore.

But he doesn’t.

“But you’re not alone in this, man,” Lance continues. Keith turns to glare at him — what a fucking crock of cliched bullshit — but Lance holds his gaze, steady and firm. “Pidge knows exactly what you’re going through. Allura, too. Hell, even Coran. That’s three separate people who understand every single thing you’re going through right now. Intimately.”

That brings Keith up short. “It’s not the same,” Keith insists anyway. “Plus it — it doesn’t matter. What good is talking out our feelings going to do? That’s not going to fuckin’ find him. I’m only going to find him if I keep working.”

“Really interesting that you say that,” Lance says flatly. “I had this exact conversation with Pidge last night, as I was attempting to force her to get some sleep.”

Keith feels something like guilt build up deep in his stomach.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And it’s one thing for me to mother hen the fifteen year old, but it’s a whole other, weirdly Freudian thing for me to mother hen you, the grownup leader who is supposed to be guiding the team and not a giant headass who is doing intensely stupid shit like ignoring team meetings and training to the point where he passes out.”

“In my defense, the daily team meetings are dumb,” Keith mutters, because apparently he wants Lance to kick him out the airlock.

Luckily, Lance only smiles wryly. “You’re lucky I’m endlessly benevolent and I’m going to let that slide. Come sit down, asshole. You missed today’s meeting because you were busy being emo, but we’ll have a small meeting now. A co-leaders meeting.”

Keith relents, sitting next to Lance on the floor, back to the wall as Lance sits criss-cross-applesauce in front of him.

“Okay. Vacation. Necessary.”

“Counterpoint. We all manage our schedules better and have some free time, and don’t waste our time spending who knows how long doing nothing.”

“Counter counter point. We do both of those things or I mutiny.”

Lance does not appear to be joking even a little. When it’s clear that Keith isn’t going to speak any further, he sighs.

“Look,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know that the idea of not doing something for a day is kind of stressful. But…saving the world is a massive bummer, dude. Being on this lonely ass castle in the middle of empty space is a bummer. Chasing a walking purple L’Oreal commercial who is also a homicidal maniac is a bummer. Eating in silence during team dinners is a bummer. Trying to force Pidge and Hunk to step away from their tech for a few hours to sleep and eat and shower is a bummer. Dragging Allura away from the briefing room is a bummer. Making sure you don’t work yourself to death is a bummer. Being the red paladin, if I’m being a thousand percent honest, right now, is a bummer. I’m bummed, dude.”

Despite himself, Keith smiles slightly. Lance grins back, tired and a tad condescending but also fond.

“I got it, Lance.”

“Excellent. I even dumbed it down so it would not escape you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You know what would make me less of an asshole?”

“A vacation?” Keith guesses.

“Ding ding ding! Vacation is the answer.” Lance reaches forward, grabbing Keith’s water bottle straight from his hands and taking a swig. “And since you decided to ditch the daily briefing, you get to make it up to me today by convincing the rest of the team to agree and also agreeing to whatever vacation spot I choose.”

“I will agree to one of those things.”

Lance laughs, bright and happy, and it sends such a startling zap of energy and relief through Keith’s entire body that he’s kicking himself for making it so rare, as of late.

“Oh, Mullet, you are so naive.”

Lance gets to his feet, offering his hand to Keith again. This time, when Keith takes it, he holds on for a moment — he smiles at Lance, tired but genuine. Lance smiles back, knocking their shoulders together.

It’s nice to be back on the same page.

———

Keith thinks he reserves the right to complain, honestly.

Well, maybe not. He did work everyone pretty hard. And he is glad that Lance finally convinced him (if threatening to mutiny can be called convincing) to go on vacation, even though you couldn’t waterboard that out of him.

“If you complain even one more time I am going to draw a massive dick with the sunscreen where you can’t reach,” Lance says pleasantly, squirting what Keith would call a massive excess of Altean SPF 900 onto his hands (alien suns are a little more deadly. Who knew). He slaps it on Keith’s back, slathering it with absolutely zero care and an abundance of glee.

It doesn’t make Keith smile. It doesn’t.

“I’ll just wear a shirt until the sunburn fades. Complaining is worth it.”

Lance only hums, working in the cream. It starts to feel good, his cold fingers digging into the knots on Keith’s back. It feels so good, in fact, that Keith lets his guard down.

Rookie mistake if he’s ever made one.

One second he’s sat on the warm sand, tension melting from his shoulders, and the next he’s fucking airborne; Lance picking him up by the waist and throwing him over broad swimmers shoulders.

“Lance!” he screeches, pounding on the red paladin’s back, “fucking let me down! Dickhead!”

Lance is cackling loudly, picking up speed and jogging for the — icy cold! Keith knows! — waves. The rest of the team looks in their direction, but Keith loses any hope of their aid when they all burst out laughing.

“All of you are the worst!” Keith cries, but he can’t deny that it’s nice to hear their laughter again.

It’s been a while.

Still, though, Keith is not going down without a fight. As he and his captor get closer and closer to a watery doom (Keith has never been dramatic even a day in his life), Keith really starts to struggle. He throws his whole body weight to one side, making Lance stumble. He aims an elbow to the Cuban’s ear, but before his hit can land, he hears a voice shout: “Oh, no you don’t!”

Three things happen in quick succession.

One. Lance whoops in triumph.

Two. A curtain of white hair flashes towards him, and yet another arm grabs him around the waist.

Three. He drops, and water colder than the fucking glacial arctic seas envelops him entirely.

He comes back up sputtering, glaring a thousand daggers at Allura.

“You’ll pay for that,” he informs her.

“Ha!” She looks down at him smugly, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised to her hairline. “Good luck with that.”

Keith doesn’t hesitate before tackling her into the waves.

It doesn’t take long after that for things to devolve into chaos. Hunk happily follows Allura and Lance’s examples, scooping up Pidge — to her rage — and Coran — to his delight — under one arm each, tossing them in the water like neither weighs particular more to him than perhaps a bunch of grapes.

(Dear Lord. If Keith were not so gone on Lance’s ass…)

As much as he tries to deny it, Keith has fun. Very quickly Lance organizes a game of chicken, climbing up Keith’s body like a particularly aggravating monkey (something Keith is happy to tell him) and settling on his shoulders, thighs bracketing his head and ankles crossed at his abdomen.

Keith goes so violently red that he’s genuinely kind of shocked that he can turn that colour.

“Squeeze any tighter, Lance, and Keefers over there is going to evaporate the entire ocean,” Pidge says drily.

Keith does not wait for her to get situated on Coran’s shoulders. He charges.

Despite his brain relaying a constant stream of Oh God Lance’s thighs are wrapped around your head holy shit he’s sitting on your shoulders and he’s barely dressed his fucking legs are so long why are they so long does he have to be this attractive is that even possible what the fuck is the deal with that, he manages to put his full attention into going absolutely ham. He charges, dodges, leaps and bounds, intent on being the winning team of this ridiculous but admittedly fun game.

Allura and Hunk dominate. Easily. It’s barely even a competition. They dunk everyone else so many times that they have to plead for mercy.

Still, Keith has a huge smile on his face by the time everyone peels off and cools down.

“There it is,” Lance says, poking him on the cheek.

Keith bats his hands away. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

But Lance is undeterred by his gruffness. He smiles, fondly, rolling his eyes, then bounds away with a random bucket to the shoreline, likely to look for cool seashells.

Keith is so endeared that it’s honestly a little sickening. Never in his life has he been so attached to the whims to another person.

He doesn’t hate it, somehow.

“If you keep building the habit of watching your red paladin so lovingly, you may be accused of favouritism in the near future,” Coran teases, taking a seat next to him on the sand.

Keith flushes. Your red paladin rings in his ears.

“I don’t watch him like that,” he denies loudly.

“You do so,” pipes up the peanut gallery, also known as Pidge Holt, without so much as glancing up from her, Hunk’s, and Allura’s massive sandcastle. Honestly, sandcastle might not be the right word for it. The magnificent undertaking is significantly larger and significantly prettier than his dingy shack from back home.

“You’re fired,” Keith shoots back. Pidge only rolls her eyes, reaching over and smashing one of the sand figures standing on the castle.

“I just killed sand Keith for your insolence. Beg for my forgiveness or I won’t rebuild you.”

The two of them continue to bicker until Allura throws clumps of sand at them to get them to shut up.

“Aw, the sand got stuck in my sunscreen,” Keith pouts. He tries to rub it off, but it only scrapes his skin off with it, so he gives up. “You’re the worst!”

“I’m going to put more sand in your hair,” Allura says mildly. She scoops up a handful. Keith holds a bucket of water up in front of him in defense.

Before an all out war can be restarted, Hunk stills, looking up from his intricate castle-building with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, speaking of sunscreen, where’s Lance? He can usually be relied upon to snootily inform anyone who will listen about UV rays and skin cancer every hour.”

“He went to go find seashells.”

Hunk’s brow furrows. “And he’s not back yet? It’s been a bit. Do you think he got lost?”

“Let’s go look for him,” Keith says, scrambling to his feet immediately. His heartbeat picks up slightly, ‘Lance’ and ‘lost’ ringing through his head like disjointed echoes. He’s already halfway down the sand by the time he registers the voices around him, hears the calling of his name, feels a steady hand on his shoulder.

“He’s not lost,” Coran says kindly. His green eyes are wrought with pain and empathy and understanding alike, reminding Keith of Lance’s earlier words. Reminding him that his family truly does understand his pain, truly does know him, get him. Coran’s hand squeezes once, and Keith takes a deep breath, smiling slightly back at him, covering his hand briefly with his own.

“Okay.”

Still, the six of them walk down the shoreline faster than they would normally, figuring safe is better than sorry.

“Hey, look.” Pidge points at a small purple critter scuttling across the sand. “Does that thing look like it’s in a hurry to you?”

“I think all crabs kind of look like they’re in a hurry,” Hunk reasons.

Allura smiles slightly, snapping his hands. “It’s the snappiness to their movements.”

Just as they speak, however, another crab scurries along, and then another. Soon dozens of them are visible, digging themselves out of the sand or hopping out of the water, then hurrying down the shoreline like whatever their chasing is about to run out. Eventually the crowd of crabs get so thick that it’s almost impossible to walk without gently sweeping several of them aside to make room for their feet.

“Oh, hey, guys!”

A few yards in front of them, sat cross cross applesauce on the sand, surrounded by hundreds of little crabs, is Lance. In front of him is the bucket he had left with and a sponge-like chunk of seaweed. He grins sunnily at them, so widely that the brown of his eyes is hidden, they crinkle so much, and returns his attention to the bucket. He holds his hand out to one of the many crabs chittering around them, waiting for it to crawl on, then gently lowers it into the bucket, using the spongey seaweed to scrub its shell.

“I’m giving the crabs baths!” The little crab in the bucket seems to wiggle, almost, in some kind of glee, waiting for Lance to finish, pat it on the head, and set it down on the sand before scuttling away.

“You’re bathing,” says Pidge incredulously, “aquatic sand bugs.”

“Some of them have a lot of barnacle buildup,” Lance says primly.

“We thought you went missing,” Keith blurts. He can’t quite keep the fear out of his voice, that built up as soon as he’d realized that Lance was gone, fear that comes out as anger. He regrets it as soon as it comes out, bracing himself for the set to Lance’s jaw and and the defensiveness in his jaw. But to his surprise Lance only softens, holding a crab out to Keith. He takes it on reflex, blinking at it in confusion. The crab blinks back.

“I did not,” Lance promises. “But I was looking for shells, and then I saw Jorge flipped upside down, so I helped him, and then we were chilling, and then I noticed he was walking funny because of a barnacle buildup on his leg, so I asked him if he wanted me to get it off, and he didn’t answer but he was cool to hop in the bucket so I cleaned him off. And then Carmen showed up so I polished her up, and then Amelia, then Hunk Two —”

“You named a crab after me?” Hunk interrupts, visibly touched.”

Lance nods matter-of-factly. “Strong and sunset coloured. All of you have crab buddies. Look.” He scoops up six crabs from his lap, showing the Hunk-crab first, then showing three other crabs in order: a teeny-tiny dark green one with black marks around its eyes, a bright pink one that sparkles when it moves, and an orange one with markings around its mouth. “Pidge-crab, Allura-crab, Coran-crab.” Finally he holds out his hand to the crab that has been sitting protectively on his head, burrowed in his curls. It takes a moment, but eventually the little thing begrudgingly steps from the safety of Lance’s hair and into his cupped hand. He brings it carefully down, giving it an exaggerated smooch on the head.

“This one is Keith-crab,” he says. “Because it is all emo coloured and likes me best.” Lance looks up at him and grins. “I am your absolute favourite all the time, right, Mullet?”

Keith knows Lance is teasing. Obviously. Evident in the way the rest of the team is snickering to themselves, no doubt remembering the years of arguing they’ve witnessed.

But still. Keith feels lightheaded.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, bright red. There’s a beat of silence that stretches out for twelve years, then Pidge guffaws, Hunk bites his lip, and Allura straight up loses it. Even Coran hides a smile in his hand.

“What the fuck, Keith,” Lance says, strangled. His face glows worse than Keith’s does. “You’re not supposed to admit it.”

“Would it be so bad?“ Keith erupts, voice cracking. “So what you’re my favourite? There’s no way you didn’t know! I let you get away with everything! You threatened to shove a sword through my skull yesterday and I didn’t even put you in a chokehold about it!”

Lance makes a long, anguished noise, setting the crab down with great care before burying his face in his hands. “You’re so embarrassing,” he moans. “You don’t have an ounce of rizz in your body. None.”

Keith sputters. “What does that even mean!”

“It means he liiiiiiikes yooooouuuu,” Pidge crows. Allura makes kissy faces.

And, well. Pidge cannot be trusted. She has openly and gleefully informed him that lying for fun is one of her favourite hobbies, especially when Keith is at the other end of her clowning.

But Lance is still trying to shrink back into himself, embarrassed. And he always finds an excuse to have his hands on Keith, somehow. And Keith hangs out with him more than anyone else, honestly.

Keith turns to Lance, hopeful. “You do?”

Lance points at him, glaring. “This does not count. You hear me?”

Keith grins, rocking back on his heels. “I’m not sure.” Lance scowls. Keith genuinely feels like he might be floating, so long as he ignores his asshole friends. “You might have to spell it out for me.”

“You talk to me properly,” Lance lists. “When we are alone. Play it up and wax poetic and — I dunno, flowers or something. You figure it out. I refuse to have this be how I find out you have feelings for me.”

“I mean, I was never really hiding it.”

“I’ll divorce you, Keith, I swear to God.”

Humming, Keith leans close, careful of the crabs, and presses a kiss to Lance’s cheek. At the last second Lance turns his head, catching his lips and kissing him properly. His smile is wide and shy.

“Sure, Sharpshooter.”

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creedslove · 3 months

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OMG BESTIE YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT.

i had this dream where me, Joel and Ellie were in Jackson and him and I were together after years of surviving and then (I still don't know how) I switched to the no-outbreak time where Sarah is alive and Joel is in his 40's. We didn't knew each other and I accidently bumped into him while walking with my daughter Ellie (at that point I'm in tears) and we look at each other and I have this deja vu and he seems to have it too! We don't say anything, just smile at each other and then I wake up. (I hope it makes sense 😭)

I wish Joel was real. (especially with his silver hair and southern accent that makes my knees buckle)

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: omg bestie you got me screaming and crying and throwing up honestly! This dream is amazing and it sort of reminds me of X-Men Days of Future Past in which Wolverine needs to go back in time to save the mutants and prevent the extinction of mutants and humans! I like this idea so I turned into a headcanon adapting to the no mutation tlou reality hehehehe

• Joel thought the dreams he was having were beyond explanation at how weird they really were; every single night he would wake up in cold sweat, panting and wondering what the hell was going on with him

• his dream was always the same: he would dream about a world that had ended and for some reason he had survived, where monstrous creatures that seemed a mix of humans and some kind of fungus had wiped most of civilization and the world as he knew; in the dream Joel was a low life, a depressed, lonely and hard guy who had lost the will of living right after his daughter got killed and that was enough for Joel to snap wake and immediately tiptoe to her bedroom, just to watch her sleep and make sure she was alright and her bedroom was still pink and full of butterflies and not some ruin of what things used to be

• it puzzled Joel, because he had no idea where that was coming from; he wasn't one to watch zombie or horror stuff, reading books was definitely not his cup of tea and he seriously couldn't understand why kids like Sarah obsessed over watching TikToks, so he thought he didn't actually have the creativity for that

• maybe he'd eaten one of Tommy's suspicious brownies by accident?! It could be a possibility, but his brother was extra careful with these since Sarah was around

• still, it didn't matter the reason why Joel had those disturbing dreams, but the frequency they were happening, and not only that: he very often saw people he knew from his everyday life in the dream as well

• such as his former girlfriend Tess, his brother Tommy and his girl Maria, he recalls seeing those two kids who lived down the street from him... Henry and Sam, he recognized them from Sarah's school, the older brother making ends meet and always having to attend parent - teacher conferences and the little one being the gifted student his daughter told him about

• even that nut job from the other block, Kathleen showed up every once in a while, Bill and Frank, and several other friends and acquaintances Joel had met through his life and the city

• but from all the crazy shit his, what baffled him the most was that you and your daughter Ellie featured in his dream as well; he knew Ellie was a firecracker from all the school meetings he'd attended, which honestly amused him. He thought she was pretty strong and smart and it always made him chuckle when she put a boy back into his place

• but it was so confusing to him that he almost had a fatherly bond with her, at the same time he had a relationship with you. Joel had always found you attractive and he very often kept in the back of his mind his desire of asking you out, but he never went through it, and yet, in his apocalyptic dreams you were going strong, it was just odd

• Joel kept thinking of those dreams for a few days, he even considered seeing a shrink after Sarah told him he should do it, but being a stubborn Miller the way he was, he just shrugged it off and eventually, his sleep went back to normal and he got too caught up with work to pay attention to things like that

• it was only one weekend where he was taking a walk around the neighborhood with Sarah, he ended up running into you, smiling and waving gently, he felt his heart skip a beat, thinking of your apocalyptic romance and thinking of how crazy it would be to miss something he never really had

• when you saw your neighbor Joel waving and smiling from across the street, you immediately reciprocate, he was handsome and you would be lying if you said you didn't have the slightest crush on him, but he would think you were crazy if he ever found out you had the craziest dream about him, in which you both had to survive in an apocalyptic world while being a couple 🥴

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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miguelswifey04 · 10 months

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miguel x mexican/black fem! reader

fluff/silly hcs

favorite thing to do together is talk shit/gossip in spanish knowing damn well that the people you’re talking about wouldn’t understand a damn thing in spanish LOL

spanish endearment words! miguel loves to refer to you as “querida, corazón, muñeca (sometimes), mi sol, mi vida, mi alma, mujercita” while you refer to him as “guapo, mi amor, cariño, hombre,”

he loves the way you say his name. it’s like a lullaby to his ears. i think he loves your accent and the way you accentuate his name with love.

he’s surprisingly good at braiding your way when you make him braid your hair before going to bed. well, you sometimes forget that he used to braid his daughter hair a lot…☹️

miguel loves it when you rant to him about anything quite literally anything. whether is about some person you don’t like or a new hyperfixation he will be all ears.

you purposely piss him off…you love when men get mad…you find it funny when miguel is annoyed with you BUT he doesn’t get extremely mad at you. you push it because you wanna see if he would actually get mad at you but surprisingly enough he doesn’t! just annoyed, “stop being annoying y/n.” he says it with a smirk but his voice is dripping with annoyance.

he learned your whole hair care routine. he payed attention when it was your hair wash day. he secretly loves to watch you wash you hair and take note of the different hair products that vest suits your type of hair whether it’s afro, curly, textured, thick you name it.

that’s why when one day you asked him if he could wash your hair, he happily obliged and you were so surprised he knew which products where which and in the specific order that you used them. HE LIKES TO GIVE UU SCALP MASSAGES 💆🏽‍♀️ sometimes you’d end up falling asleep on the sink and he’d wake you up, “okay mi vida, your nap time is over.” he’d make fun of you for falling asleep HAHA

miguel loves loves loves it so much whenever you where long acrylic nails 💅🏽 it’s just something about the way they make your hands adorned and pretty. he’s always grabbing your hands and just awestruck by the artwork done on your nails <3

suggestive: when miguel and you were making out and in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t realized that his claws came out and they were digging into your hips + his fangs were more prominent which grazed against your lips. you jolted from the sharp pain of his claws digging into your skin and he felt really bad. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to.” he apologized profusely throughout the day after that because he would never hurt you. of course you told him you didn’t mind it one bit, and that you kinda liked it which left miguel was dumbstruck by it 😭

“please please please!! i wanna see your fangs oh my god, please please please.” you begging him to show you his fangs and he would be reluctant to, “what? no, not here.” obviously he gave in and you we’re literally literally so intrigued by his fangs. you were awestruck and he kind of blushed because of that.

he was invited to your family’s cookout 😭 the black side of your family definitely had fun with him, showing him the good stuff. he fell in love with the food and he could not get enough of your grandma’s cooking. not him dancing to cupid shuffle with your uncles, aunts, and cousins 😭

now of course, your mexican side of the family would invite him to go to trips to mexico with all of you. you can say it was the most chaotic experience in your life BUT SO MUCH FUN!

miguel bonded really well and was fully accepted on both sides of your family. your mom almost fainted when you brought miguel to your house because it’s the first time you bring a good man. your mom knew you had terrible taste in men but when you brought miguel, lord. she was like “¡¡estoy tan feliz de tu novio!! siempre traes hombres feos a mi casa!!” while your dad was just happy you got a good man, finally. “nice to meet you, miguel. i’m sure you’ll make my daughter happy.” miguel happily nodded, “of course, your daughter’s happiness and well-being is my first priority.”

he takes you out on dates a lot…he plans them more than you do, and he always bringing you flowers with every visit. got you a promise ring and vowed to marry you one day (he’s a man of his words) it took him time to figure out his feelings but he did it!

he always encourages to reach for your goals and dream & promises to be by your side through it all, and you promised him you’d help him overcome his past traumas which really made him soft. he always cried when you said :(

lyla loves you!! she exposes his secrets or confessions he had about you, out loud…he gets super embarrassed and red about it, and you just tease him about it. one time it was something suggestive…he literally had to disconnect lyla for A WHILE LMFAO it was awkward as fuck 😭 “miguel um—wow i didn’t know you had that in you..” he looked down at the floor than at you with an embarrassed face gawd did he want to disappear. “well yeah…” he chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

…

a/n: if this gets enough reach i’ll make a pt. 2

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thrawns-babygirl · 9 months

Text

Stake Out (Thrawn x GN!Reader 18+)

YALL! This idea was floating around my head for so long because there is a severe lack of Ascendancy Era!Thrawn x reader content but while I was writing this fic I seem to have forgotten how to write? IDK I think this is self indulgent as fuck lmao hope u enjoy this garbage <3

Synopsis: Mid Captain Thrawn has been making eyes at the human pathfinder that navigates the Parala from time to time, totally sick of them on her bridge, Senior Captain Ziara sends them off on a mission to work out their tension.

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie, alien dicks, virgin!Thrawn Word Count: 2800+

Masterlist

You had no idea what you were doing out here. Then again, a pathfinder isn’t really supposed to ask about the specifics of their commissions. You go where the clients tell you, don’t speak unless spoken to, collect your pay and head back to the station. That’s it.

That doesn’t stop you from being the tiniest bit curious about why you were ordered to accompany a single officer out into, what appears to be, the middle of nowhere.

You’ve worked with the Chiss before, more times than most of your compatriots, given that you tend to actually enjoy working with a species that most other pathfinders consider to be stuck up and unbearable. You enjoy how efficiently they seem to work; you enjoy listening to them speaking Cheunh around you, the language seemingly incredibly complex but it has an almost melodic quality that enraptures you every time you hear it.

And on some level, you will admit to yourself, you find them dangerously attractive.

You’re lost in thought as you stare out the viewport, thinking about the number of times senior captain Ziara has requested specifically you for whatever voyage the Parala needs to take, she’s always been nice to you, accommodating even. A far cry from how your other pathfinders often describe the Chiss.

You’re shaken from your musings as you hear Cheunh spoken behind you, the pleasant-sounding language bringing a smile to your face as you turn to look at the other occupant of the small shuttle.

Mid captain Thrawn is sitting against the hull, questis in hand as he makes what you assume to be a routine check in to his ship and his commander. You hear who you think is senior captain Ziara on the other end before he finishes what he’s saying and looks over to you, fixing you with that enchanting glowing red gaze. You feel your cheeks warm as you turn back around in your seat and return to staring out into space, quite literally.

“I apologise if you are bored” accented Minnisiat forces your gaze over towards the mid captain again as he rests on the floor of the ship, back against the hull, looking relaxed. You give him a warm smile and reply “Oh no, don’t worry about me, it’s not the first time I’ve been in one place for a while”.

His lips quirk in a small smile as he looks back down at his questis, seemingly done with the conversation. Inwardly, you groan in frustration. You’d been admiring the mid captain from afar for a while now, every time the Chiss request a pathfinder from your station you jump at the opportunity. Hoping that you would be able to work with him again, hoping to see his sharp cheekbones and hear his gorgeous voice and watch his lips as they wrap themselves around those Cheunh words you so desperately want to understand. And now you’re here with him, totally alone for the foreseeable future and you have no idea how to interact with him.

You look behind you again, craning your neck around the large, tall backed navigators chair to look at him again. He looks so invested in whatever he’s doing on his questis it almost feels rude to interrupt him.

“What are you looking at?” you ask before you can talk yourself out of it and he turns to face you. He doesn’t seem annoyed or offended you interrupted him so that’s a good start.

“Vagaari art” He replies simply, his focus returning to his questis “You are welcome to join me if you are bored”.

Trying not to seem too eager, you get to your feet and walk towards where Thrawn is sitting. As you approach you notice he’s spread out what appears to be a bedroll and some blankets beneath him to cushion the hard metal of the hull. Taking a seat next to him on the bedroll you lean towards him to gaze at his questis.

He seems to stiffen slightly as your shoulders touch and in the dim light of the shuttle you aren’t sure if you see a dusting of purple over his high cheekbones or if you’re just imagining things. Shifting slightly closer so that your sides are pressed together you begin asking him about each piece of art he flicks through.

He’s actually incredibly open to talking to you about it, more open than you thought he would be. He enthusiastically explains each piece he shows you, you don’t fully understand everything, but his eagerness is contagious and you find yourself smiling and becoming wrapped up in each painting and tapestry he has saved to his device.

You lean further into him, the warmth of his body radiating even through the course material of his CEDF uniform. Your hand brushes his thigh and you hear his voice catch as he explains the nuance of the composition of a specific piece. You think he’s going to ask you to move away, give him back his personal space, so it surprises you when he moves closer to you, his body pressing slightly tighter against yours.

Now it’s your turn for your breath to hitch. Testing the waters, you decide to be a bit bold and place your hand on his thigh. The usually entirely composed Chiss stumbles over his words for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing with what he was saying, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as he speaks.

He seems to be following your lead, what you do, he mimics. Testing this theory, you begin rubbing small circles on his thigh with your thumb and sure enough Thrawn begins to do the same.

Interesting… very interesting…

You rest your head on his shoulder, and he leans to rest his head on top of yours, you squeeze his thigh softly and he does the same, you move your hand slightly towards the inside of his thigh and he follows your lead, doing the same to you.

You’ve been so invested in your little experiment you didn’t even notice that Thrawn’s stopped talking about the art, he’s breathing heavily next to you as you move your hand slightly higher on his thigh, towards where you hope his cock is, unless Chiss have a vastly different anatomy than what the rest of them alludes to.

Your hand moves beneath the bottom of his uniform tunic, and you feel him, already as hard and throbbing. He chokes out what you assume to be a curse as you begin stroking him over his pants.

Looking up towards his face you notice his eyes half lidded and a very definite purple hue to his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he breathes heavily. He drags his gaze over to you and you have the overwhelming urge to kiss his slightly parted lips. Do Chiss even kiss? Is something as simple as a kiss taboo in their culture? You curse silently for not knowing his customs, but then again how could you?

Thrawn must see your eyes flicking down towards his lips because he cautiously leans forward towards you, and with a hesitance you feel is vastly uncharacteristic of the stoic Chiss, gently places his lips over yours. The kiss is clumsy, unfocused, unsure, but ever the mastermind, he quickly catches on, becoming more confident as his lips move against yours with more passion, more hunger.

You continue stroking him over his pants, and you hear the clatter of his questis being placed down somewhere off to the side as he moves a hand to the apex of your thighs, rubbing his long fingers over the fabric.

Breaking the kiss, you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before Thrawn brings his other hand over to rest on your hip. His touch is tentative, unsure, but surely you can’t be the first person the mid captain has been with… right?

It’s like he can read your mind because the moment the thought occurs to you, he clears his throat. “I apologise I have never… with someone…” he sounds almost embarrassed over that fact, and you try to give him what you hope is a reassuring smile “That’s fine, I can… teach you if you like?” you bite your lip as he pauses for moment before nodding.

“Yes please… I would appreciate it if you… took the lead in this encounter” you don’t know if its his lack of familiarity with Minnisiat causing him to speak so formally or if this is just how Thrawn speaks, but either way you nod before leaning in to kiss him again.

You manoeuvre yourself so that you are sitting in his lap, his hard length pressing up against your core as you deepen the kiss. His hands on your hips begin to feel more sure and more confident as you run your fingers through his silky blue-black hair and begin to slowly grind down against him. He groans into your mouth as you move your hips harder and faster and you feel white hot arousal pool in your belly at the sound.

You reluctantly remove your hands from his hair to begin fumbling with the fastenings of his uniform tunic, breaking the kiss as you fumble with it. He chuckles and replaces your hands with his as he helps you open his tunic revealing a form fitting undershirt that hugs his chest highlighting the definition of his muscles.

He quickly shucks off his jacket as you untuck his undershirt pulling it over his head, uncovering his sculpted chest and you swear your mouth waters at the sight. He’s always cut an imposing figure in his uniform, but seeing the broadness of his chest unobscured, is a sight that you swear you will remember for the rest of your days.

Returning to kissing you, Thrawn’s hands move to the hem of your shirt, only breaking the kiss to pull it over your head. “Bat…” he breathes as he looks at your body, his voice husky as he runs his hands up and down your sides. You begin kissing along his jaw down to his neck, further down until you reach one of his nipples, sucking it into your mouth causing him to let out a curse in Cheunh as his head lolls back against the hull of the shuttle.

“S-sensitive… Very sensitive” he grunts out and you smile as your mouth continues teasing his nipples, moving from one to the other as he moans and begins bucking his hips up, grinding against you. His hands move to your chest, his fingers pinching and playing with you as you continue teasing him, angling yourself so that you can begin to unfasten his pants when he reaches a hand down to stop you.

“I do not know… what my stamina will be like I am already very-” he pauses as if Minnisiat is eluding him “worked up” his voice is strained, and his eyes are hooded as you look up at him.

“Don’t worry… let me make you feel good” you whisper to him before kissing along his neck again. He removes his hand and allows you to unfasten his pants, bringing them and his briefs down his thighs far enough for you to retrieve his large swollen length. He follows suit, his hands moving to quickly remove your pants as you awkwardly shift so that you can fully remove them.

You take a moment to admire him, he looks similar to a human cock, you think to yourself, besides the colour some ridges that look like they will feel absolutely divine when he’s finally buried inside of you. He fidgets slightly under your scrutiny “am I… to your liking?” uncertainty lacing his tone as you wrap your hand around him.

“Yes… yes very much so. You are… perfect” you reply breathlessly, his cock twitching as you speak, the tip leaking more slick fluid. You use your free hand to grab one of his, bringing his fingers towards your lips, sucking on them, coating them in your saliva before moving them between your legs.

He looks at you curiously as he begins prodding your entrance with his long fingers. “You are very… large… you will need to prepare your partners for your size” his expression turns to one of understanding at your explanation as he slowly works a finger into you causing you to gasp as he moves it in and out of you. As he adds a second finger you rest your head on his shoulder, moaning into his neck when he begins scissoring you open.

He continues fucking you open with his hand, his fingers occasionally brushing your sweet spot making you whine into his neck. He mutters something in his native language as you continue stroking him in time with his fingers moving inside of you, for a man with no experience he is a very quick study, his fingers hitting that spot with more consistency as he drags you agonizingly close to your peak.

Not wanting to finish without him buried inside you, you place a hand over his wrist to stop him. “I’m ready” your voice is breathy and strained and you know you look just as debauched as he does. You reposition yourself so that his tip nudges your entrance, and he gulps in anticipation as you begin to slowly lower yourself down onto him, each ridge sending pleasure shooting through your body.

He moans unabashedly as he enters you, screwing his eyes shut as he mutters to himself in Cheunh. Chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, hissing through clenched teeth as he fully sheaths himself inside you. You begin to move before he places his hands firmly onto your hips.

“N-no… if you move I will…” he takes a deep breath “a moment to control myself please…” his accent coming through stronger as he struggles with the sensations combined with speaking in a language both of you will understand. Not trusting your own voice, you nod as you pause your movements, content to just feel him throb and twitch inside you.

After a while he gives you a small nod to proceed. You move slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him as you begin to ride him, resting your head in the crook of his neck, your hands once again tangled in his soft hair. As your movements speed up, he becomes more vocal, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as you bounce up and down on his cock, his hips thrusting upwards to meet yours. You feel each delicious ridge of his cock as the both of you move together, the coil in your belly tightening, your moans mingling in the confined space of the shuttle.

His moans become more uneven, pitching higher and you know he’s close. You bring one of his hands between the two of you, getting the hint he begins moving his hand quickly and its exactly what you need for the coil to break as your climax engulfs you.

The tightening and clenching of your muscles cause Thrawn to let out a loud broken moan of your name as he thrusts his hips up into you once more, burying himself as deep as he can, filling you to the brim with his cum as he pants and moans, his cock twitching as he releases.

You remain in his lap, both of you slick with sweat and other various fluids as you come down from your respective highs, catching your breath. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the rumbling of his voice as he speaks “this has been a very enlightening experience… thank you” he gives you a small half smile as he looks down at you and you smile up at him in return.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the lesson” you chuckle before you remove yourself from him, his seed flowing freely down your thighs “but we should clean up before we have to get back no?” you say as you head towards the refresher on shaky legs.

~~~~~

“We did not locate the alleged pirate base senior captain” Thrawn says as he stands before Senior Captain Ziara in her office on the Parala hands clasped behind his back. She gives him a small smile and looks down at his report “That’s not a problem mid captain, I’m sure you and the pathfinder managed to find ways to keep yourselves entertained” Ziara’s smile widens as she watches Thrawn blush and shift on his feet.

“I’m not blind Thrawn, I see how the two of you look at each other” she stands up from her desk “I’m glad, I was sick to death of the two of you making eyes at each other on my bridge” Ziara chuckles as she walks past her blushing mid captain “come on, lets go to the mess, I’m sure you’re hungry after your… mission”

@ilovestarwarsmen725@ele-millennial-weirdo@al-astakbar@69fandom-fanatic69@blackmonitor@khapikat222@novemberblueskyink

#thrawn smut #thrawn x reader #admiral thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn x reader #thrawnposting #grand admiral thrawn smut #mitth'raw'nuruodo #mitth'raw'nuruodo smut #admiral thrawn smut #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #admiral thrawn

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