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misstheground‌ :

Shoya simply grumbled back for a moment, forcing out some mocking noises in an imitation of Gag-Arm’s tone, then finally, “Fiiiiiiiiine.” She did her best to hold still, though she still had a death grip on the other’s shirt. (There weren’t many people she trusted to carry her. Gag-Arm was decidedly not one of them.)

“I might throw up on you. Especially if you are not gentle,” she warned.

“An’ you won’t be the fifth-worse thing to git grody on me today,” she answered, smirking around the little corners of her mouth, smug like that was a badge-of-honor. ( Or mightbe there was a chance she was glad not to have’t sit on and useless about while Shoya went an’ ... kissed off.

Not as though they were chummy, or any’it, not friends, but like she had enough holes already in her life where people used-t’-be —

Like if she was gonna be anything but bottle right now, she hadda slam  t h a t  barrel’a thoughts closed. )

"’S plain-eyed insultin’ you think I cain’t carry some’n as light as you ‘gentle.’” Her stomach still felt heavy but she forced her face to lighten up and grin again.

“Not half far, any’ow. What’ve you got f’r a meddy kitch?”

skymade‌ :

   “Yeah.” A code does mean something. Or it’s supposed to, anyway. Codes can still be broken.

   Promises can still be broken.

   Anything in this realm – of the living and breathing and shit – can and will be broken, and, y’know, she’s not too sure how she feels about all of that. Not great. But not like she can do anything to change it, either. 

   “Oh. Mitt. Okay. But no. It’s – Gag-Arm.” The words mean something that doesn’t quite make sense, but isn’t that all names? Isn’t that just the way they fucking go? “Gag-Arm. Gag-Arm. Wow! I got it first try! Are you proud of me? You totally should be proud of me. That’s usually, like, last try stuff, y’know? Super last, bottom try.” 

“Gag-Arm,” she says back again and gives her head a bob, t’show they have the works. “It ain’t true,” —waggles her fingers, snickering through her nose,— “but it’s funny, hey?”

Funny largely on account a’ the leg, which Willow won’t be able’t make sight of under her snapper shroud, she reconnoiters anomolater. Ah well.

“Works out there’s a certain kind’a style in only learnin’ names when you’re on  guh-bye.” That makes her laugh, too. Can’t say how serious Willow is or ain’t, like whether she’s joshin’ on her, but mightbe it doesn’t matter.

“So, you been...”  ( It takes her a mo to work out how to say it clear, but she hits on a word she figures lilac will get the measure of: )  “ free  f’r long, then, Willow?”

misstheground​:

Sometimes, Shoya wondered if the pair of them even spoke the same language at all. She tried to be respectful of other dialects and ways of speaking, but… sometimes trying to parse together Gag-Arm’s speech felt like flying against the wind currents.

“Unfortunately, your concern is my concern,” Shoya explained. “The nearest station is not a station you want to be stuck at without transportation. Unless you want to be stranded there with a group of thugs, I would recommend staying with me.” She sighed. She didn’t like Gag-Arm, not exactly, but she didn’t dislike her enough to subject her to that.

Well, that stopped her up real short.

When was the last time her concern had been somebody’s else’s? Asides from the vague sucky of the floatin’ fraternity. ( Rhetorical ask: She knew god-damned well who was the last person who’d thought she was worth their spit. Diuneilomo, she missed Danny like a hole in her—)

“D’you mean’t’say you’d worry about li’l ole meeee?” she crowed instead of following along after that thought, hands leaping up to cup her cheeks like an excited dolly. “Awwww, Shaya! An’ all this time I reckoned you didn’ care!”

skymade​:

   “What if I wanna one-chump it?” She’s opening her maw wide, again, now hooking a finger on one side. C’mon, she can totally get it in… totally, right?

   “Aah oong–” Releases her mouth, wipes her thumb off on her pants, and tries again. “I don’t have a – a cutty-thingie. Y’know? I mean. Sometimes I just use a sharp, like. Corner or something, if I gotta cut something off, but… That’ll probably just…” She mimes squishing the cake, with a hand come hard above it, stopping just before it meets frosting.

Clock’s still tickin’ by, and Gag-Arm’s gathering flies, saucery-round eyes fixated on Willow’s mouth where she’d had her finger in it. “Wh—...” Her face turns a great old cherry-light carmine as her brain turns itself back into working order and she realizes what a zooker she must looklike.

“No reason not’t squash it, I guess,” she mumbles, fumbling likewise in her bindle for the little knife what should be in it. “But y’can use this. Instead. ’F you figure y’don’t wanna waste all the elbow grease I put int’ that frosty.”

finnigankale​:

Well. She certainly had a charming personality.

“And scuffle over the good stuff? What ever happened to a little honor among thieves? First come? First serve? …No?” When she showed no signs of acknowledging the childish rule, Kale huffed and looked around the wreckage. “ ‘Kay. Halfsies it is. You wanna split it top-bottom or back-front?” 

“Who’s a thief?” Well: Her, clear-and-obviously, and him too, but neither of that wasto stop her from playacting some dignity. “No laws ’gainst making good use of whatsists left all’to waste anyhow.” Whole bully playbooks and reams of laws, morelike.

But she let go of a little-a the stress in her stance anyhow, on account of how no strongarm worth his weight would give her neither first serve or halfsies either. Might be this kid wasn’t a threat, a’least.

Gag-Arm gave him an abrupt catmoon like the sucker-up she was, all pie-eyes and smallness. “I o’nt need much, so I’ll be peaceable an’ give ya two-thirds of the lot if y’let me take up front!”

It was a back-hold type, anyway, all the gudge goodies in the back and the carryables and smallsie engine bits she could make any use of ’round the front by the pilot’s seats. All good and fair, huh? Nothin’ to pick a fight over?

skymade​:

   “Oh, yeah!” If it’s funny or not, y’know, Willow’s not sure. She finds everything funny, though, so in a way, Gag’s already won. “Supes hilarious.” 

   Is supes a thing people say? Eh. Anyway… 

   “Is the style not learning names? Because I’m good at that. Or remembering the sounds as different than they are. It’s hard, when you have the little thing in your head.” She taps, briefly, at her temple – then beams, at the blessing of the question she’d been given. “I’ve always been free! But… Traveling, like… yeah! Uh. A while. A good while. What about you? You do it too, right? Did you already say that, or did I just like, feel it off you? I dunno, but it’s… there, y’know?” 

Gag-Arm’s got less than an idea what the li’l thing in your head might be, but that’s Willow’s grind, she reconnoiters. Willow didn’ blanch at her chuckle over her gam, so’s she doesn’ ask over her head. 

She does light up all moony and grinning at the idea Willow pinpoints down the stink of the floating fraternity onnher, though. It’s for sure that life on the skyline makes you sommat else —what gudge just don’t see,— and it’s aces to get made like that. Looks as she had the right read on Willow here.

“A good while. Me too,” Gag-Arm nods along. “Sommody-years, you know how it goes. Feels like longer.”

misstheground​:

“You should be… grateful… that all of my kind are small…” Gag-Arm was being fairly gentle, all things considered, but the slight sway of walking had Shoya rather nauseous again; she grit her teeth to force her way through it.

“I have… a medical kit… on my ship… p-painkillers and bandages… a dermal… regenerator…” She’d always tried her best to be self-sufficient, and only need to go to larger medical centers when absolutely necessary. “I do not know… if I have anything… for this… I do not know what this is…”

“I wake up every day an’ I praise to the stars how bitty y’are, Shoya.” They were hotta luck she was, to be frankish. On the regular Gag-Arm hauled around a snapper rig heavier than Shoya would be soppin’-and-soakedy wet, but with her leg acting kippy as it was, carrying her carefully was more work than she’d’ve liked.

“We’re easy close to your flyvver now. Gettin’ nearer. Pinky promise me you’ll let me take a good looksie once I lay you down, huh? That ’r faint away so’s I can see what’s what.” Gag-Arm only knew how not to use a regenerator, but few good narcotics and bandages —those and the stitchin’ kit in her rig— she could put to use.

Christian   hadn't   planned   to   go   to   the   convention   but   when   one   of   his   fraternity   brother's   mentioned   having   an   extra   ticket,   he   decided   to   tag   along   and   check   things   out.   The   small   town   boy   thought   it   was   just   going   to   be   a   small   gathering   where   people   could   talk   about   their   favorite   heroes.   He   had   no   idea   how   big   it   was--   oh,   and   that   indifference   he   felt   about   going   was   completely   abandoned   the   second   he   realized   he   could   actually   meet   some   of   the   heroes.   Without   caring   that   it   was   going   to   cost   him   just   about   everything   he   had,   he   didn't   come   from   money   like   some   of   his   brothers,   he   paid   for   the   full   experience   to   not   only   talk   to   his   idol,   Soldier   Boy,   but   to   also   get   a   picture   with   him   and   a   signed   autograph.   He   looked   a   bit   out   of   place   not   being   in   costume   but   when   he   finally   got   to   the   front   of   the   line,   Soldier   Boy   didn't   seem   to   care.

In   retrospect,   following   the   heroes   instructions   and   meeting   him   back   at   his   hotel   room   should   have   made   it   clear   to   Christian   what   was   intended   for   him   but   the   boy   was   naive.   

He   thought   they   were   just   going   to   talk   but   as   soon   as   the   door   was   locked   and   Soldier   Boy's   hands   were   on   him,   he   realized   he   was   wrong.   In   sick   way,   they   were   still   getting   to   know   each   other.   "Wait,   Soldier   Boy,   please   sir,   wait."   Christian   began   begging   quickly,   his   voice   already   breaking   with   fear   as   he   felt   the   man   climb   onto   the   bed   behind   him   andrip   his   jeans   open   with   ease.   Grabbing   onto   the   sheets,   the   boy   tried   to   crawl   out   from   under   him   but   the   hero   moved   faster;   and   was   stronger.   In   one   cruel   push,   he   breached   the   boy's   tight   and   unprepped   hole;   burying   himself   deep,   and   dry,   as   Christian   cried   out   and   writhed   beneath   him.

"Please   Soldier   Boy--   stop.   It   hurts.   Please.   I   didn't--   I   wasn't--   This   isn't--"   he   couldn't   finish   his   protests,   his   words   lost   behind   hiccups   and   sobs   as   an   overwhelming   wave   of   pain   crashed   over   him   as   the   hero   proved   to   be   more   of   a   villain;   continuing   to   take   the   boy   against   his   will,   despite   his   begging.   Christian   was   desperate   and   didn't   know   what   else   to   do   so   he   started   crying   out   and   yelling   for   help.   Maybe   someone   was   around,   in   one   of   the   other   rooms,   to   help.

His   body   refused   to   adjust,   or   maybe   it   simply   couldn't.   Soldier   boy   was   the   biggest   cock   he'd   ever   taken,   in   it's   beer   can   thick   girth   and   length.   Christian   wasn't   a   virgin,   but   it   sure   as   hell   felt   like   he   was   in   the   way   his   body   clenched   tight   around   Soldier   Boy   with   a   stubborn,   vice   like   grip.   With   his   cries   and   grunts   of   pain   muffled   against   Soldier   Boy's   hand,   all   he   could   do   was   squirm   and   sob   in   silence   beneath   his   hero   as   he   was   used;   further   humiliating   himself   as   his   cock   began   to   leak,   dampening   the   front   of   his   jeans   as   he   was   absolutely   wrecked   and   used.

OPEN TO: YOUNGER BOTTOMS.

NON-CON, HUMILIATION AND SLURS, DEGRADATION, FEMINIZATION, etc.

Scenario: Based on this GIF.

DO NOT LIKE MY STARTER IF YOU DO NOT PLAN TO REPLY.

This was stupid, but not too far removed from all the publicity he produced for Vought back in the day. Besides, at these conventions there used to be a lot of very pretty little bitches, dressing up like real sluts, and that was partly a real turn-on. So there he was. The great Soldier Boy, in front of that table, signing pictures of himself and taking selfies with them, but no one really stood out. Until a boy approached and really caught his attention. Plump pink lips, a sweet innocent face, a big fat nice ass, Ben listened to him talk about how much he admired and loved him, but the most relevant information was to hear that this pretty little boy was 18 years old.

So he gave him a picture with his autograph and behind this picture, his room number of the hotel where he was staying, whispering to him to wait for him there, and they could continue getting to know each other. When the whole event was over, Soldier Boy arrived at his room and saw his biggest fan standing in front of the door, waiting. Ben invited him in, once inside, he locked the door and the rest was history. Ben was completely naked, he had the boy pinned against the bed, he hadn’t even bothered to take off the clothes of the boy, he had just ripped his jeans and thrown him against the bed against his will, penetrating him dry and in one thrust, forcing his cock until it was balls deep.

“C'mon. This is what you wanted, right? You said you love me, that I’m your fucking idol, and you would do whatever for me. You were practically eye fucking me at the convention” He commented as he looked at the camera in front of them. There was something exciting about doing that in front of the camera, after all, the video would be for his eyes only. Ben was getting more and more turned on watching the helpless small boy clench his fists and struggle, as if he had any chance at all of escaping.

And even though Ben was enjoying listening to his pleas and squeals of pain, he covered his mouth with one hand so that no one would hear his cries of pain and cries for help while he squeezed his neck with the other. “SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! No one is coming to help you! So stop crying and take it!!!” Ben growled, smiling between his moans as he raped the boy. That hole was so fucking tight, squeezing his big fat cock so freaking good.

Ben wouldn’t let this boy go until he emptied his balls about two or three times, hell, maybe he’d use him all night. His hips moved in powerful, hard thrusts that showed no mercy whatsoever, forcing his way between those tight walls, seeking to drive his massive cock, as thick as a beer can, deeper and deeper as pleasure-filled moans came from Soldier Boy’s mouth.