#Also had to touch wet rags and yeah *shudders*

[deepspaceclawstation]

survived the horrors (cleaning day)

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 9

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥Series Masterlist

AN: As promised, comin' at ya a day early! ❤️‍🔥 I hope you enjoy...

Word Count: 5,100 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, and angst.

Part 9: “Do Not Disturb”

“No one’s gotta know,” he replied. His voice was deeper, laced with grit. “Just try to stay quiet.”

Biting your lip, you slowly began to rock your hips. You had to let out a shaky breath as your clothed core found delicious friction against his muscled thigh, through his pants.

Dean broke through your nerves by claiming your lips. He sucked your bottom lip between both of his, grazing with his teeth. Your fingers sunk into his hair and gripped tight.

He groaned a little, and he slipped past the seam of your lips to slide his tongue against yours, curling and mimicking motions you’ve felt his tongue make inside you.

You moaned a bit too loud at that.

“Shhhh,” he said, low and quiet.

The back of his curled fingers grazed your neck, then down to squeeze and tease one of your breasts through the soft wool of your dress, over the satin bra underneath.

You had to utter a more restrained sound of pleasure at his touch; it was gentle, but firm and purposeful in every way. You couldn’t help but roll your hips harder, finding more friction against your clit and seeking more of the heat now throbbing inside you.

But just as you were about to encourage him to take the dress off, there was a knock on the cubicle door. 

You froze, gripping his shoulders tight as your eyes went wide.

Dean broke his lips from yours fast. You were already starting to blush down to your neck. He glanced at you with a cocky smile before he subtly cleared his throat.

“Yeah?” he answered.

Everyone knew his policy: if his door was open, then it was fair game for anyone to pop in on him. But if his office door was closed, he was either busy with paperwork, or taking a nap. AKA: Do Not Disturb.

“Hey, Lieutenant. Just letting you know that lunch is almost ready,” Jack said through the door.

Dean nodded at that in relief. Nothing serious.

“Okay, sounds good. Thanks,” he said. He started to brush his fingers up and down your spine, eliciting a small shudder from you.

You still gave him an incredulous look. How could he keep touching you when one of his teammates was on the other side of the door?

“Oh, and I went to the store yesterday and got the right coffee this time. Gevalia, right?” Jack asked.

“Yep, good job. I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Dean replied. He chanced slipping a hand up the inside of your thigh. His thumb leisurely stroked your clit through your underwear, enhancing the flood of wetness he could already feel through the fabric.

It took everything within you to keep your lips pressed together with no sounds escaping, though a slightly ragged breath released through your nose. Your nails bit warningly into his shoulders. His lips twitched at a smirk.

“Sure thing,” Jack said. “And we’re running drills later, right?”

Dean held himself against an impatient sigh.

“You got it, Candidate. Be ready, I’m kicking your ass today.”

Jack chuckled gamely. “I look forward to it, sir.”

Dean didn’t really like being called “sir.” It made him feel like his dad or something. He wouldn’t say anything about it now though. He preferred to hear Jack’s steps retreating.

When he sensed the coast was clear, he turned his attention back to you. You met him with a reluctant smile. But he stilled your hips when you moved to get off him.

“Where’re you goin’?” he teased.

You let out a quiet laugh. “I think we’ve pressed our luck enough for today.”

Dean leaned in to kiss your cheek. His lips then veered off toward your ear.

“But see, I’m pretty damn sure that pussy’s still on fire,” he said.

The depths in his voice made you shiver. Your spine undoubtedly prickled with arousal again.

He smiled. “You understand, I can’t let you go just yet.”

Was it getting hard to breathe, or was that just you? You swallowed and let your fingers thread through his hair.

“What…um…where then?” you whispered. “Anyone could walk in here…”

He smirked against your neck and teased you with a nipping kiss there, making you inhale sharply. He doubted anyone was dumb enough to walk into his office without knocking, but these walls weren’t by any means soundproof. And he could see that you had your reservations. 

“Okay, come on,” he said.

He released your neck and finally let go of your hips. He helped you stand on shaky legs, and you smoothed your pretty dress back down. You gave him a helpless look that said, Dear God, what now?

He smiled and took your hand.

“There’s one last stop on the tour,” he said. 

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head as he led you outside the firehouse and through a side door—into what felt like a large coat closet.

Essentially, that’s what it was. It held all the firefighters’ gear, from helmets, gloves, and overalls to matching navy jackets, lined with neon strips on the sleeves and mid-sections, as well as emblazoned with their last names on the back.

“I see why this was last on the tour,” you remarked dryly. Dean’s hand dropped to your hip as he flipped on the light and shut the door behind him. You felt the heat of his body against your back and tried to resist leaning into him.

“You’re getting the VIP treatment,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

But instead of turning you in his arms and pressing you against the wall, like you half-expected, Dean showed you where his gear was hanging up, further into the closet. You first tugged out the sleeve of his jacket. You ran your hand over the capital letters stitched on the back: WINCHESTER. It looked clean, but well worn.

You pulled out a large, but kind of scary looking mask next. It was black and yellow and had a large filter in the front. You knew this was what allowed him to breathe while walking through smoke-filled buildings, but you couldn’t imagine having to wear it for very long.

“This just looks uncomfortable,” you said.

Dean’s lips quirked. “Eh, you get used to it.”

You were curious though. You tried slipping the mask on and struggled, even when Dean tried to help you. Eventually he got the SCBA mask fitted correctly over your face. You were sure you looked ridiculous, and even though you weren’t claustrophobic, this certainly made you feel uncomfortable and closed in.

“It’s like living in a fishbowl,” you complained, already struggling to get it off. “How the hell do you see anything, let alone storm burning buildings in this thing?”

Again, Dean helped you with a chuckle. He was careful not to catch your hair as he slid it off your face and over your head.

“With a lotta training,” he said. “I practiced here at the house, at home, wherever I could. First just 10, 15 minutes at a time. Then half an hour, an hour or more. However long I could take it. I’d watch TV, cook, listen to music. Anything to make it feel more natural, like a pair of pool goggles.”

Your brows raised. “Color me impressed. I think I’d pass out.”

You adjusted where he put the mask, making sure it fit properly on the shelf next to his black helmet. Your hand passed over his jacket once more before you turned to him and let your hand run down his chest.

“Thanks for showing me around,” you said with a smile. “This place has got to be like a second home to you.”

Dean smiled back as he tugged you closer by your hips. “I’m here more than I’m at home.”

Your expression faded a bit as you considered that, and his hanging jacket.

“Have you ever gotten hurt?” you asked. You didn’t think you’d ever asked that yet.

His eyes dimmed, just a little, but his good humor remained. He was about to deflect. You just knew it.

“A couple scrapes here and there. Nothing major,” he said.

You didn’t know how much of that you could believe. You had a feeling he was like your grandfather, and not just when it came to his taste in music. Dean was a certified “downplayer.”

“Right,” you said. You also wracked your brain, trying to remember if you’d seen any noticeable scars, or even burns on his body.

Dean shook his head and dipped down to kiss you. It took you a bit by surprise, but you inhaled sharply as your eyes closed at the feeling of him.

“You’re thinkin' too much,” he said against your lips. And he claimed you again, deeper and deeper, until you were gripping his arms for dear life and he was walking you back to press you against the nearest wall. His hand clenched in your hair, then dragged down the column of your neck, raising goosebumps wherever he touched.

His lips soon replaced his hand. They burned a trail of wet, teeth-grazing kisses down your neck, along the scoop neckline of your dress, dipping his tongue between your breasts. You held him to you with panting breaths. But you also let your free hand wander.

You untucked his shirt from his pants and began roaming the planes of his back underneath the fabric, then the firm wall of his chest and sternum, all the way down to his belt.

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them up against the wall by your head. His molten green eyes stared down into yours, as his knee pressed between your legs. You shuddered and arched into him. Your fingers curled around his hands unconsciously.

“Dean…”

“Gotta thank my girl for giving me such a nice surprise at work,” he said. You felt his lips grinning against yours, even as he grinded his hips into you with blinding friction. You tried to restrain your gasp at the feel of his hard length pressing against your core. Even though you wanted nothing more than more of this, you still had to voice your concerns.

“Dean,” you whispered with more urgency. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about that.”

You stared up at him incredulously. How could you not?

But he distracted you by sliding his hands sensuously down your arms. Down your sides and hips, just to drag the knitted hem of your dress up from your thighs. Then he slid down, all the way to his knees.

Your eyes widened as his smirk grew deeper. He looked up at you slyly from the ground, and it reminded you of giving him a very similar look when you’d gone down to your knees for him for the first time.

His fingers brushed your skin as he slipped your panties down to your ankles, over your knee-high boots. You fought a shudder at the feeling.

“You’ve got a thing for sexy shoes, huh?” he remarked.

A smile crossed your lips. Shaking your head, you helped him by kicking off your underwear.

“I think you’re the one with the fixation,” you teased back. “I just like what I like.”

Dean chuckled. “Couldn’t agree more.”

He hooked a hand behind your knee and brought one leg over his shoulder. His hand traveled up your leg, and his head turned to press a line of wet kisses up the inside of your thigh.

You sighed, letting your fingers run through his hair as your eyes closed. But your eyes popped open on a gasp as you felt him suck hard near your center, biting and then soothing the spot with his tongue.

You shot him a furrowed look, despite the incredulous smile tugging at your lips.

He just grinned. “Had to be sure you were paying attention.”

You huffed a laugh and gave a sharp tug on his hair. It made him grunt and try to swallow a groan, deep in his throat.

“How’s that?” you quipped back.

“Touché, baby,” he said. But the problem with that was, you felt his lips against your skin, just before his tongue licked a hot stripe across the seam of your pussy. You inhaled sharply and reached for something else to hold onto, otherwise you might rip his hair out.

Your hands found purchase on the adjoining wall and the supporting rail holding all the coats. And a practiced tongue swiped between your folds, carrying wetness to your clit. His face delved in deeper to swirl with his tongue over that bundle of nerves, while two fingers slipped inside your wet heat and into your core.

You shuddered and bucked against him, but Dean held your hip firmly. His body weighed against you, pressing you into the wall to keep you in place. Then his hand and tongue became unrelenting. His fingers stretched you open, exploring your inner walls and finding what made you writhe and choke on your moans.

“Oh my God, Dean…”

He was tempted to smile and tease you some more, but he knew he had to be quick about this; they’d spent a long time in here already.

Still, he was nothing if not thorough.

He sucked and bit down gently on your clit, right before his fingers found and curled into that spongey part deep inside you that damn near made you weep when you came.

And your eyes really did burn as they fluttered closed. Your whole body trembled with the force of your release as you gasped and panted for breath. His name fell from your lips, almost reverently. Soon enough, you were able to wrench your hand from the metal rail to sink back into his hair.

His tongue continued to lap and swipe, more languidly as he felt your tremors subsiding. When he eventually pulled away, he was heaving for breath himself. He barely had a chance to wipe at his mouth and nose before your leg slid forcibly off his shoulder.  

He looked up in time to find you sinking down to his level, using his shoulders as leverage. You took his face into your hands and kissed him as thoroughly as he’d worked you over, making you a warm, shaking puddle in his wake. Dean held you to him and kissed you back between panting breaths.

Your hands pressed and made room between you, only to fiddle with his belt and palm at the almost painful hardness of his cock through his pants. He groaned into your mouth.

Fuck it, he thought. He had half a mind to take you right here in the turnout room.

But of course, that was when a knock sounded at the door. It was quiet, but there was no mistaking that warning. Which meant that someone was probably looking for Dean (and was also doing him the solid of tipping him off).

Dean broke from you, and you looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes.

Is that what I think it means?

Yep. Time to go.

With a nod, he helped you up to your feet and found your underwear. You slipped them back on, despite the grimace you made. You were now a bit uncomfortably wet, but you supposed you could deal with that until you got home.

You slipped down your dress and attempted to fix your hair, as well as Dean’s. You bit your lip and tried not to laugh at how you’d wrecked his light brown strands in all directions.

Dean smirked, but he had no time to tease you now either. He held a finger to his lips and closed his eyes for a moment, willing his hard-on to subside. It took him a few moments (deep breaths and unsavory thoughts), but eventually he was able to calm down enough to turn around and crack the door open.

Once he saw that the coast was clear, he slipped out of the closet first. He beckoned you next with his hand. It fell to the small of your back when you stepped out.

He spotted Benny coming out from around the Squad truck. He was wiping grease off his hands, like he’d just been working on the truck. He shot you and Dean a nod.

“Chief’s looking for you,” Benny said.

Dean nodded. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Benny gave him a salute, with deep amusement in his eyes. You blushed and tried not to think about what that look probably meant. You just hoped he hadn’t heard anything.

Dean smiled and walked with you back inside the firehouse. You wished you could just make your escape to your car, but you’d forgotten your purse in the kitchen.

Most of the team seemed to be almost done with lunch. You said hi to Meg again, who gave you a suspicious smile. Your blush started to burn down to your ears.

Gordon was also sitting on the couch. You hadn’t seen him since that somewhat unsavory moment at the Roadhouse, when he’d “shot his shot” with you. He greeted you with an incline of his head.

“Gettin’ the grand tour, huh?” he asked. His smile was pleasant, but there was a gleam of dry knowingin his eyes.

You froze slightly, as your mouth parted and embarrassment threatened to swallow you. You subtly glanced around, trying to see if anyone else was listening, and knowing for that matter.

Dean noticed your discomfort. Again, he rested a hand on the small of your back and shot Gordon a firm look with raised brows. It said, Shut the fuck up, man.

“The Chief’s looking for you,” Gordon said, nodding up at Dean.

“Yeah,” Dean replied flatly.

“Winchester.” A commanding voice carried down the hall.

Your head raised toward it, as did Dean’s. He was more relaxed than you to see the firehouse Chief coming down the hall. You fell into step with Dean as his hand on your back gently urged you forward.

“Chief,” he nodded. He introduced you as his girlfriend, and though you noted the other man’s subtle brow raise, Bobby Singer’s gruff expression lightened (just slightly). He shook your hand, firm and steady. You smiled and greeted him with a respectful nod.

“Hello, sir. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” you said. You almost felt like you were meeting Dean’s father, the way the Chief seized you up a bit.

“Good to meet’cha,” he said. He gestured with a hand over to the now half-devoured cakes in the kitchen. “I was told you brought those in for us.”

Your face briefly ducked with a smile. “Uh, yes. That was me.”

“Well, thank you. I’m sure the whole house appreciates it,” Bobby said, pointedly raising his voice at everyone else in the common room. Meg, Chuck, and others voiced their appreciation and thanks.

“It’s my pleasure,” you said with a short laugh.

Dean smiled as he watched you. But a look from Bobby shifted his attention.

“We need to go over some things,” said the Chief.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said.

Bobby turned back to you. “Thanks for feedin’ the guys.”

“Thank you for letting me visit,” you said. Your sincerity showed in your eyes. “You have a great house here. Otherwise I think I’d still be stuck in that elevator.”

“Thank you, darlin’.” Bobby’s lips lifted in a rare smile. It fell when he glanced over at Dean.

“Meet me in my office.”

“You got it,” Dean replied. He took a moment, however, to touch your arm and press a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll call you tonight.”

That he said lowly in your ear. You bit your lip against a deeper smile, but you nodded, squeezing his hand one more time before you went to get your purse. Dean watched you leave (and he enjoyed the natural sway in your hips, as well as the tousled, slightly frizzy bounce of your hair).

With a long breath, he steeled himself to follow the well-worn path to the Chief’s office.

Bobby was sitting behind his desk, signing some paperwork. Dean’s phone quietly buzzed in his pocket. He discreetly fished it out halfway and found a text from you.

I’ll take care of you when you get off shift, Lieutenant. ❤️‍🔥

Dean smirked, but quickly schooled his expression (and pocketed his phone) when Bobby looked up at him.

“Seems like a nice girl you found there,” Bobby said. 

Not that nice, Dean thought salaciously. He looked forward to whatever plans you had for him after his shift tomorrow. He wasn’t the only one with a talented tongue…

“Yeah. You try the cake yet?” Dean asked. He leaned a hand on the spare chair in front of the Chief’s desk. “Orange poppy seed. Who knew, huh?”

“Though next time, when we have a visitor, the tour should refrain from including the turnout room,” Bobby said, his tone both dry and censuring.

Dean’s brows knitted with “confusion.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

Bobby’s frown sharpened. “Do you think I was born yesterday, Dean?”

“Now how could I think that, Chief?” Dean said, deceptively earnest. There was enough gray in the older man’s beard to speak for itself. 

Bobby’s face fell into the most long-suffering deadpan.

“Don’t get cute with me, son. I’m not in the mood.”

He’s never in the mood, Dean thought. But his lips twitched with a small grin. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“Damn right. And wipe that goddamn smirk off your face! I should write you up for this,” Bobby snapped. 

“For what, Chief?”

“You know damn well, for what. You’re just lucky there ain’t no cameras by the turnout room, or I’d be suspendin’ you. Right here and now.”

Bobby peered at Dean closely, but the younger man gave nothing away. Dean now stood with his hands folded behind his back, like the damn professional he should’ve been. 

After a moment, the Chief heaved a sigh of ever-mounting exasperation. Like a parent who knew you were guilty, but had no defining evidence.

“This is a firehouse, not the Motel 6,” he barked. “You understand me? You’re my Lieutenant, for God’s sake. You’re supposed to set a fucking example.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now get. For damn sure you’ve got work to do.”

Dean’s face was nothing if not respectful, but Bobby spotted the edge of Dean’s smile when he turned to leave. 

This was what Bobby got for going soft on John Winchester’s boy. He shook his head and went back to his mountain of paperwork.  

“Idjit,” he muttered, turning the page. 

Dean headed back into the common room after he left Bobby’s office. His good mood soured when he saw Gordon pass through the hall. Dean followed him all the way to the locker rooms. He hadn’t shown you this part of the firehouse, only because the guys tended to change clothes right there, instead of heading to the bathroom. 

“Hey,” he called out.

Gordon stopped short and looked over his shoulder.

“You got a minute?” Dean asked.

The other man wordlessly agreed, waiting for Dean to catch up with him. They went into the men’s bathroom for privacy. Dean shut the door, then made sure no one else was in the stalls before he met Gordon’s expectant gaze and crossed arms. He was casually leaning against the wall.

Dean’s hands went to his belt.

“We got a problem, Gordon?” he asked.

Gordon’s brows rose. “You got one with me, Lieutenant?”

Dean’s lips thinned. He crossed his arms as well, and met Gordon’s gaze directly.

“Keep making my girlfriend uncomfortable, and we will,” Dean said. His tone was firm in warning. 

Gordon took that in with a mild nod and a humorless scoff.

“You know, if anyone but you pulled that shit today, they’d be suspended on the spot,” he pointed out. “But because you’re the Chief’s pseudo-son, you get a pass. And a promotion at that.”

Dean’s frown deepened. He should’ve known it would all come back to that.

Gordon had completed his training and passed his test to be promoted to lieutenant as well, the exact same month as Dean. Gordon was older, with a few more years of experience. But Dean had it on good authority (from Bobby himself), that his own scores had edged out the competition.

“That had nothing to do it,” Dean said.

Gordon shook his head with a rueful smile. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, Winchester.”

Dean sighed in frustration and let his hands fall to his sides.

“Look, if that’s really how you feel, then why not issue a formal complaint with the Chief?”

“And what difference would that make? You’re their boy scout,” Gordon said wryly. “Me? …Maybe I just don’t fit the mold.”

Dean could see that side of it too. Gordon was a damn good firefighter. Dean trusted the man with his life…but there was an edge to him, one that sometimes put people off from getting to know the guy. Dean had known him long enough to see through it, to the good man underneath.

But being a leader was more than just the job. If he’d been in Bobby’s shoes, and it had been down between Gordon and Benny…Dean knew who he would’ve promoted.

“Gordon, you know your worth here. Ain’t nobody thinks you’re not one of our best,” said Dean. “But I am your Lieutenant. If you can’t handle that, then we’ve still got a problem.”

“Look, Dean. I like you. I do,” Gordon said, shrugging his shoulders. “Most days, I do respect you. But you’re also a cocky son of a bitch.”

Gordon then left the bathroom, and left Dean contemplating as a result.

Even after his long 24-hour shift, Dean replayed moment after moment from yesterday. From seeing you, inviting you into his office, reminiscing on memories, both happy and painful to relive, and everything that came afterwards.

He’d had to put his conversation with Gordon aside to focus on the job, but now, what kept coming back to him was seeing you trace the framed picture of his mother. That was one of the few pictures John had been able to save from the fire.

So when Dean left the firehouse in the morning, instead of joining some of the guys for breakfast, he drove over to the 84th Precinct, where his dad was already hard at work at his desk. By the look of his scruffy beard and loosened tie, maybe he hadn’t gone home last night.  

Dean knocked on the desk, earning his father’s surprised glance.

“Burning the midnight and the daylight oil I see,” Dean remarked.

John’s mouth tugged at a smile. “Hey, son. To what do I owe the visit?”

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Dean remarked. They used to do dinner at his and Sam’s apartment every couple of weeks, or at least grab a beer at the Roadhouse more often. For the past few months though, John had been even more buried in his work than usual. Dean could guess why.

“Any progress on the case?” he asked.

John huffed. “Which one?”

He gestured at a stack of folders on his desk. All of them signified an ongoing case. But both Winchesters knew what Dean was getting at.

He raised his brows and dipped his chin, trying to catch his father’s gaze. “Dad.”

With a sigh, John looked over at his son fully.

“Nothing I can tell you right now, Dean,” he said. It was a dismissal.     

The younger man’s face fell into a frown, his brows knitting together. He dragged a spare rolling chair over and sat, making it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere just yet.

“So you drop a bomb on me about Mom’s killer, and then it’s radio silence for weeks?” Dean said. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

John finally stopped typing on his computer. His eyes were red-rimmed and tired. Just then, Dean could see the lines of age in his dad’s face more than he had before. It worried him.

“I want to help,” Dean said earnestly.

At that, John firmed up, with a shake of his head.

“This guy’s an arsonist,” Dean tried.

“We’re working with Arson,” John said. “The rest is my jurisdiction, and you’re on a need-to-know basis.” 

Dean blew out an aggravated breath and sorted a hand through his hair.

“Dad—”

“Don’t you get it?” John snapped. But when a few heads turned in the office, he forced himself to lower his tone. He met Dean’s eyes. “This man is…well, he ain’t a man, Dean. He’s a monster. I’ve told you enough for you to keep your eyes open, but you’re not stickin’ your nose in this. You understand me?”

Dean’s brows furrowed further, but he finally read the underlying worry in his father’s eyes. Just not for himself.

“For all intents and purposes, Azazel was a mafia leader in the middle of Kansas,” John continued. “He’s got over four decades in the business, and even with Narcotics’ help, finding him and pinning him down’s been a goddamn needle in a haystack, let alone connecting him to these murders. Even with the brand marks on the victims, we don’t even have evidence that someone ain’t just copying his signature, so to speak.”

Dean rested an elbow on the desk and brushed a hand over his mouth as he processed what his father was telling him.

“And those brandings. That’s the only thing tying the victims together?” Dean asked. He watched John closely, how the man’s frown deepened a bit. His eyes never shifted, just met Dean’s head-on.

“We’re still looking into it,” said John.

After a beat, Dean took that with a nod. He was still unsettled, but he got up and clapped his father on the shoulder.

“Call once in a while, huh? Maybe drop in for something to eat,” he said. “My girl’s a good cook.”

John rubbed a hand over his face, but he perked up with a bit of interest.

“Girl? You’re actually seeing someone…in the regular sense?”

Dean rose a brow. “All right, you don’t gotta sound that surprised.”

A smile tugged at John’s lips as he sat back in his office chair.

“Right, right. Cas mentioned something about that,” he said. “…How long you been dating?” 

“A couple months now,” Dean said. Honestly, no one was more surprised than him at that fact.

John hesitated, but he nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Good for you, son. Hope I get to meet her soon.”

“You will, if you ever leave this damn desk,” Dean replied, nodding back with a smile. “See ya.”

But his smile dipped as soon as he turned to leave the precinct.

His gut was telling him one thing: his father was still holding something back. Something important.

AN: And there we have it! A little firehouse shenanigans, a bit of Bobby, a fair bit of tension, and a pinch of angst. What did you think?

Next time, we're going to start getting into the meat of the mystery. Along with a bit of drama...

Next Time:

“Dean,” you managed, though your throat became clogged with emotion. Your tears blurred your vision and finally slid down your cheeks.

You tried to push at your seatbelt; it felt like it was cutting your circulation across your chest. But that proved to be a mistake, as the tight fabric just pressed into the bruising you already felt forming against your skin. You couldn’t contain a small whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone was more alert now, changed with the distress he likely heard in your voice.

You took in a shuddering breath as more tears rolled down your face.

“I need help.”

Keep Reading: PART 10

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[littlelioncub43]

Earned It

Summary: Andy always works so hard, and he’s earned a little break, don’t you think?

Pairing: Sub!Andy Barber x Dom!Reader

Word Count: 1,817

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY, Minors DNI), d/s dynamic, sub!Andy (you’re welcome), dom!reader, collar and leash, Mistress kink, baby boy! Andy (You’re welcome!), edging, vocal Andy (YOU’RE WELCOME), desperate sex, leather kink(?).

A/N: I had sub!Andy thots and decided that y’all deserved to read some of it. I love a hot subby man, and Andy Barber just screams “I’m a big strong man who needs to be babied by a sweet dom who loves me.” And by Goddess, do I want to be that sweet dom. Anyhooters! I loved writing this. I have so many other sub!Andy thots, so let me know what you think about this! And maybe I’ll write the other thots I have. (yeah that’s right. I’ve resorted to bribing you guys to reblog my shit. I have no regrets. I feel no shame.) So please, comment and reblog! Let a sweet potato know what you think! 

Kisses 💋

—K

~~~~~~

"Please, Mistress, fuck—please," he begged, his voice ragged and raw from nearly 4 hours of begging, he both hated and loved being edged. He's naked as the day he was born, except a collar, the black leather one he loves ("it's classic, elegant, sexy. It's perfect" were his exact words). You're sat on his large mahogany desk, the papers he’d been looking over strewn across the floor, your legs spread wide for him to stand in between them, his large hands planted on either side of you. You watched as another bead of sweat trailed down the side of his neck, the droplet being lost underneath the collar cinched around his throat.

"What do you need, baby boy?" You hum softly, your lips grazing his as you pull his leash into you. You didn't have it in your heart to be cruel any longer, not when he's worked so hard.

You see his beautiful blue eyes flick to the lingerie set you're wearing. The black leather hugs your body perfectly, the bra pushing your tits together in a way that drives him absolutely mad, and the crotchless bottoms had him drooling for you. You know what he wants, but he also knows what you want— to hear him say it.

"Wanna fuck you, wanna make you cum on my cock, wanna cum inside you, Mistress, please," he rushes out, his chest heaving in his desperate plea. You take in his expression with a pleased hum, his eyes crazed with need, his kiss swollen lips were nearly a cherry red, his cheeks tinted a soft pink with his desire, his beard still coated in a layer of your release. You bring your free hand to push through his sweat damp hair, grinning at the way he practically purrs at the action.

"Such a needy boy today, aren't you?" You taunt, he nods eagerly, he'll be anything you want him to be if you'll let him fuck you, "but you've also been such a good boy, and good boys get what they want."

"Oh, god, thank you, Mistress " he moans in his raspy voice, his face relaxing in relief. You tug on his leash to pull him closer but have to swat his hand that tries to cradle your hip.

"Still no touching, baby, you know the rules," you scold softly as he whines but nods, murmuring an apology. "Now, go on.”

You watch as he rubs his aching cock through your soft petals, hands remaining on the wood, the wetness from your previous highs glazing his shaft with each rut of his hips. An eager thrust of his hips had his tip bumping into your clit, sending a shudder through your body that made Andy bite his lip. A displeased whine bubbled in the back of his throat after a handful of failed attempts of entering you. You chuckle meanly, making him pout. You decide that he’d had enough teasing, you reach between you, a shuddering gasp wracking his whole body when your hand wraps around his base. Positioning him at your quivering entrance, you tug on his leash to urge his hips forward.

“Oh my God! A-ahhhhhhh haaaaaaaaaah,” he groaned, the sound reverberating off the walls of his home office. The veins of his neck bulge as his head falls back, his entire body shaking uncontrollably as he adjusts to the nearly suffocating pleasure of your cunt wrapped around him. You pant with him, the stretch always stung but in the most delicious way possible. Your free hand petting his hip while you coo sweet nothings to him.

“You good, baby boy?” You ask softly, smirking when he can do nothing but nod and moan out an unintelligible sentence. You give his open mouth a quick peck before laying back on his desk, the absence of your heat made Andy whine but he knew better than to argue with you. “Good. Move for me, baby, I wanna feel you.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Andy tried to reign himself in as best he could before drawing his hips back slowly. The slow drag of his bare shaft along your velvety walls had him gasping, you couldn’t help but gasp with him, Andy was a big boy in more ways than one. The first thrust forced a moan from you both, your pussy sucking him back in sloppily. The pace he was setting was slow but hard, his instincts telling him to ravage you as hard as he could but he knew he’d be in trouble if he went too fast.

“That’s it, Andy, that’s my good boy,” you moan when his thrusts fell into a rhythm that had your body burning for more. The praise went straight to his cock, a near pained moan flying from his lips. He loved being your good boy.

“O-oh fuck, Mistress,” he whimpered when you clenched down around him, his eyes rolling back in his head, hands balling into fists as his pace quickens. “Need to touch you, need to touch you, Mistress, please!”

The wanton tone of his voice has a fresh wave of slick pouring out of you, the room filled with the wet sounds of your cunt, his desperate begs, and your proud throaty moans. You listen to his breathy chants of ‘please’ for a few moments before trailing a hand up one of his arms, his skin is hot to the touch.

“Go ‘head, baby, touch me,” you encourage and squeeze your walls around him, reveling in the high pitched whimper it earns you. The moment you give him permission, his large hands are leaving the solid oak desk to wrap around your waist. He pulls you into each unforgiving thrust, your body bouncing across the surface of the desk, if he hadn’t been holding you in place you would have definitely fallen off by now.

“Thank you, Mistress, thank you, oh my god, thank you,” he babbles as he takes you, his legs spreading wider to get a better stance. His new stance has his tip brushing against the spongey spot deep inside you that has you practically shouting, your walls spasming around him. Andy quivers with you, moaning brokenly at the sudden tightness, before doubling down on that spot. His pace hurried and rough, although his aim is precise. The fat mushroom tip of his dick slams into your special spot with alarming accuracy. Your back arches off the desk, the tension in your belly building higher and higher as Andy speeds up. One of his hands leave your hip to start furiously rubbing at your swollen clit. “Come on, Mistress, cum for me, please, wanna see you cum, Mistress, please, wanna see you cum!”

“A-Andy!” You scream as you release, your legs twitching wildly around his waist, your back bows off the desk completely. His hand continues to rub your clit, helping you ride the crest of your high for as long as possible. Andy’s eyes drink in the view before him: you on your back, dressed in the hottest leather lingerie he’s ever seen, your hair a mess, skin sweaty and flushed, eyes rolled back into your head, and your beautiful lips parted in a passionate cry of his name.

When your eyes regain focus again, you find him staring down at you in a daze, his jaw hung open as he gasps and pants. You smile up at him on instinct, the sweet gesture not going unreturned, his own soft smile splitting his face in half. The feeling of your pussy gripping him in a firm hold has his smile falling away as his jaw drops and another whorish moan fills the room. He can feel his climax quickly approaching, his balls aching with the primal need to fill you to the brim. The look he gives you says it all; eyebrows pinched together at the center of his forehead, those baby blue eyes of his imploring you to let him have it, plump bottom lip slick with his spit and red from being chewed on, a thin string of drool coating his chin.

“Yeah, baby, you can,” you nod before he says anything, you knew Andy well enough to know what he was thinking, “take what you want, baby boy, you’ve earned it.”

It’s all the approval he needs before he’s plowing into you with a renewed vigor, his hands finding their perch on the curve of your hip, holding you in place while he ravages you like a mad man. He moans out a jumble of praises, ‘thank you’s, and curses, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets himself take what he wants. Your delicious moans blend with his perfectly, egging him on, fueling the fire that burned at the base of his spine.

“G-Gonna cum, Mistress,” he stuttered out in between moans, the tightness of the collar around his neck only adding to the delirious pleasure quickly closing around him.

“Fucking cum, Andy, cum inside me, baby boy, give it to me!” You cry for him, your hand pulling on his leash and clawing at his shoulder, your hips rolling into his, his eyes crossing slightly as they roll once more. A choked scream gets caught in his chest as he finally lets himself go, the room seems to go completely still, the world no longer turning, the only thing that spins is his head. Dizzying euphoria floods his every fiber, his muscles tense and relaxed all at once as his cum finally coats the inside of your walls. The grip he has on your hips hurts as he claws at your flesh, his body leaning over you as he fills you, his pace reduced to filthy, sloppy grinding.

The ringing in Andy’s ears subsides enough for him to hear the unending stream of moans and whimpers he’s letting out, his eyes finally opening to find you gazing up at him with a soft smile, your hand brushing through his hair lovingly as you tell him what a good job he did, what a good boy he is. All he can do is nuzzle into your palm dumbly, kissing your palm every chance he could.

“Come here, Andy,” you whisper and pull him down for a kiss, he melts into you the moment your lips touch, his chin wet from his drool. You both sigh into the kiss, any form of strict rules out the window as you tangle your limbs together. His legs feel like jelly, he opts to prop himself up on his forearms, framing your head. You rub a shaky hand up and down his side, letting him catch his breath.

“That was way longer than ‘a small break,’ Mrs. Barber,” Andy playfully whined, smiling down at you laid out on his desk. You give him a smirk and a casual shrug.

“What can I say, Mr. Barber? You earned it.”

~~~~~~

Tag list: @tumblin-theworldaway​ @smokememories​ @runawayolives​ @slothspaghettiwrites​ @strwbrrybucky​ @hawsx3​ 

[tainted-wine]

Subject: RAPTOR

Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

This GIANT is the lovechild of this amazing fanart and this ask:

I twisted the shizznit out of that ask, but the inspiration is still there. A thank you to anyone who makes it through this very long ride.

This fic does takes some liberties in the creation of nomu. Some factors will deviate from canon.

Words: 20k+

You can also read this long-ass story on AO3 if that’s more comfortable.

Heed these warnings: Blood and Death, Teratophilia/Monster-Fucking, Breeding, Mutant Genitalia, Unethical Experimentation, Mutilation, lots of handjobs and cum, LOTS of long tongue action and I’m ashamed, Brief Suicide Ideation, and Shitty Science

——–x——–

Fertile nomu were the greatest breakthrough that the villains could ever hope for. Breeding saves so much time and resources, as opposed to artificially creating each specimen from scratch. There were two major “programs”, as these sick bastards insist on calling them. 

The Mating Program, where the nomu were paired together, one with male sexual organs and the other with those of a female, though there was also the occasional subject that managed to possess both. It was an unpredictable process; miscarriages were common, sometimes the offspring dies minutes after birth, or the fetus develops too rapidly inside the womb and the birth becomes a violent bursting out of the parent’s body. Weaker nomu, usually the ones incapable of rapid regeneration, have been killed from such incidents. “What a waste,” those bastards in lab coats would say.

And then there was the Milking Program, in which semen was collected to later be frozen or artificially inserted into ‘other creatures’. Yeah, they say it as if ninety percent of those creatures weren’t humans.

You were an unwilling member of the latter program, but the assholes sure did love making it sound like they were doing you a favor.

“This entire precinct is yours,” they said. “Your very own farm of all-powerful beasts!”

Gee, thanks. Just what you always wanted, to jerk off abominations and collect their cum. To be fair, it could be worse. At least you weren’t one of the unlucky ones being impregnated. Your possession of a quirk, albeit a mostly useless one, probably saved you from that fate. Those without a quirk had a higher chance of passing down all of the Nomu’s abilities. Just another addition to the long list of Why Being Quirkless Fucking Sucks.

The weaker and simpler nomu aren’t an issue. A sort of imprinting drives them to obey your every command. Hell, jerking them off isn’t even needed — you can literally just order them to ejaculate, and the damn things are spewing out their putrid seed before you can even prepare your containers.

The most troublesome part of your “job” was the High Ends. They are powerful, sentient, and God help you, have an actual sex drive. They were obedient to an extent, but you can’t hold complete control over something that was specifically designed for independent thinking. You were responsible for only five of these advanced nomu, and that was too many. The touchy bastards always wanted more than just a handjob, vocalizing their lust through distorted throats. The long, beastly groans of “inside” and “give pussy” echoed in your head throughout the day and into the night.

These things can literally pound you into mush, and the very thought of carrying their horrifying children makes your throat burn with rising bile. You don’t believe it’s worth risking your life just to please their monster dicks.

That was all before they introduced you to a new ‘pet’. You stood in the hallway of your assigned area of the old hospital and watched two approaching figures. Ugh, another damn High End to make things more difficult, but this one made your heart skip a beat. 

Most of the creature’s body was a solid black, just like the rest within its tier. It was more slender than the others, upper body leaning forward with the support of long legs with joints that reminded you of a bird. Both its hands and feet were covered in scales and ended in large talons. A grand pair of ebony wings were folded behind its back, and a muscular feathered tail swayed with its movements. Overall, its appearance was a mixture of avian and reptilian.

The feathery wings were a huge hint, but absolute certainty struck you when you made eye contact, gold-filled eyes with a bird-like slant on a face that still managed to stay youthful after so many alterations to its body. You listened in on the villains’ conversations whenever they were around. With no access to any kind of media in this place, it was the only way to stay up-to-date with everything happening outside of these cursed labs. You remember hearing about their latest victory, how they managed to overpower and kill the number two hero of Japan, dreadful news that you refused to believe. But the beast that was eyeing you curiously gave you no choice but to accept the truth.

Hawks has become their newest nomu.

The doctor accompanying him smiled proudly, commanding the monster to take your side. You gulped and tried not to flinch in his presence; you were always extra tense around new additions that didn’t know you yet. “Hawks is dead,” the doctor said calmly. “Say hello to our latest work: Raptor.”

You think you’d rather stick with ‘Hawks’. The doctor doesn’t wait for a response before continuing. “We expect samples from this one daily.”

The shocking demand has you speaking before you can stop yourself. “Why?”

The man’s impassive eyes darkened and you shrink back, considering an apology but deciding that it was best to just keep your mouth shut. Prisoners like you followed a set of rules, the most important one being ‘No Questions’. They’ll feed you to the very beasts entrusted in your care without batting an eye.

Lucky for you, this man was willing to give you a pass. “Analysis, fertilization, storage for future plans…many matters that don’t concern you. Expect me every morning to take it in for testing. Until then, get it settled and collect the first sample.”

You shuddered, sneaking a glance at Hawks, who was busy looking up at the occasional flicker of the ceiling light. It was careless to underestimate how observant the High Ends were, but this is the first time you’ve seen one so openly curious. Normally they would just absently stare at nothing when left idle.

Only when the doctor turned to leave did you finally give the newcomer your full attention. “Hawks?”

He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.

“Um…Raptor?”

You nearly jumped from how quickly his entire body turned toward you, completely still and waiting for whatever instructions came next.

You scratched at your head nervously. “Right, I guess that really is your name now. Well, come with me.”

He followed you down the old hall and past the rooms where others of his kind rested, talons tapping against the tiles with each step.

 x---x---x---x---x 

Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.

He doesn’t remember anything before his awakening in that cold and wet chamber. Was there anything before? Had he just been born?

Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.

x---x---x---x---x

  Like all the other nomu, Hawks’s private space was nothing more than an emptied patient room. Their loyalty was the only thing keeping them from breaking down the old doors or tearing through the worn walls. Every minute spent alone with these superhumans was a gamble with your life.

But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.

You stood at the door while Hawks examined his new home. He sniffed and pawed at every nook and cranny like an animal in unfamiliar surroundings, straightening his flexible spine to touch the ceiling before lowering himself on all fours. He seemed just as comfortable crawling as he was with walking; you can only imagine how incredible his agility has become. The beloved wing hero was best known for his swiftness in defeating and subduing villains, and it looks like the mad scientists sought to maximize his talents. The average nomu was built to be an indestructible powerhouse. Hawks was built to be an even more efficient predator than he already was.

As much as you didn’t want to interrupt him, you had a job to do. “Raptor…”

His head whipped around to pin you with a sharp stare, molten yellow slits revealing the red irises that only appear when focused. You tensed, but he made no further movements.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Nomu respond best to a confident and assertive voice. “Just relax and stay still. It’s time for me to collect some sperm, if you even know what that means.” You grab the jar that you had already prepared in the corner.

He shook his wings and soft mane of hair, leaving his head a poofy mess. Well that was…cute. You approached him before setting the container back down and reaching for the pathetic rags they called shorts. It’s beyond ridiculous how these sadistic doctors are willing to completely violate and alter a person’s corpse, yet they force the abominations to keep their junk covered as some form of decency.

A low rumble vibrated from his chest as you dropped to your knees and pulled down his only article of clothing, allowing the not quite human-looking cock to spring free — a thick base with a curved shaft decorated with scale-like ridges on the top and bottom, then tapering to an arrow-like head, twitching and growing each second. You’ve seen stranger dicks, but it still catches you by surprise. Was Hawks’s dick always like this?

Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.

The moment your hand made contact, a loud hiss rushed past his teeth and he stepped back, wings flapping as he backed away until he hit the wall.

“Calm down.” His reaction startled you, but your voice remained steady. He wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, his widened eyes and timid posture gave the impression that he was just caught off-guard. “Calm,” you repeated more softly.

A few seconds pass while his breaths slow and he stands straight again to give you access to his fully hardened cock.

You try to move more slowly, at first running just your fingertips along his length to ease him into the feeling. You smiled at the sight of his face relaxing; he was surprisingly expressive. “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”

His mouth opened to give you a glimpse of sharp teeth that could easily shred your flesh, but the only sounds that come out are several choked peeps. He winces and brings a clawed hand to his throat.

“Can’t talk yet, huh? Don’t worry, it usually takes a few days for you guys.” You closed your fingers around his shaft in a firm grip and began to stroke him.

The soft purrs must mean that he has fully given in. He thankfully hasn’t made any grabs at you yet; only staring down and watching you explore every inch of his pitch-black meat, taking his leaking pre-cum and smearing it all over for lubrication.

His wings shiver and his tail begins to swing wildly—you flinch at each loud thud whenever the powerful limb whacks the wall or slams into the floor. You briefly wonder if the feathers on his tail are capable of becoming sharp blades like the ones on his wings.

The purrs become low growls as he begins to bend over your kneeling form, muscular thighs quivering around you. His cock was twitching under your quickening pace, notifying you that it was time to grab the jar and get ready. “No need to hold back. Go ahead and cum.”

He obeyed with a high screech and two sets of talons seized your shoulders, tearing through cloth and digging into your skin. You yelped, but didn’t halt your milking of his cock, ensuring each spurt of cum landed inside the container. Blood can be felt trickling down your arms, his grip on the verge of crushing bone until he finally lets go after his final spasm. You release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you sealed the jar and stood up. “Good, now rest,” you said through clenched teeth and turned to leave.

A distorted chirp is heard behind you; you twisted your head to see Hawks rushing forward, and your heart jumps into your throat. Fuck, what did you do? Did turning your back excite him? Running wasn’t a smart option at this point. You held the fresh warm sample close to you as you shut your eyes and braced for whatever the nomu had planned.

But when he was close enough for you to feel his hot breath against your back, nothing happened. Then there were fingers, the same fingers that pierced your flesh with their hooked claws, lightly tracing over the bleeding wounds. It was a touch that was way too gentle for a monster created to kill.

You heard the choked sounds again, and you take a look at his face as he strains to form a word, eventually giving up and mouthing it instead. What you read from his lips was something that hasn’t been said to you during your entire time in this hellish hospital.

‘Sorry.’

He retreats to a corner and curls up his entire body like an animal sleeping in the cold.

You felt like the one unable to speak now, mouth opening and closing in search of a response. Eventually you were able to collect yourself. “It’s alright…I guess. Not the first time one of you has handled me roughly. First time one of you showed any regret, though…it’s honestly really freaking me out.” You giggle uncomfortably and decide that you need to hurry up and treat yourself before the scratches get infected. “Rest,” you make sure to command before rushing out of the door.

The restroom held a shabby but functional shower that will rid you of the blood, and the workers were at least generous enough to give you the bare minimum of first-aid along with extra gowns. A couple excruciating dabs of alcohol on the open wounds should clean them up just fine.

You’ll have to think about Hawks’s odd behavior later. You still had other nomu to tend to.

 x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #1: Fierce Wings

Notes: As the host’s original quirk, we don’t expect Raptor to experience any difficulties with Fierce Wings. It should serve more as a refresher for his memory. With a brain more advanced than any other nomu so far, he should still be quick in attacking and reacting. His slightly enlarged wings will allow for greater endurance during flight, and of course, a bigger arsenal of feathers. The feathers on his tail are also to be tested.

The room that Raptor stood in the center of was filled with targets everywhere—some static, some moving in fixed patterns. The humans in coats were a safe distance away and watching him closely.

“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”

He didn’t even have a chance to see which one gave the order before his body was already reacting. It took only seconds for him to pin the locations and time the movements of each target. In a flash, black sharpened feathers darted in multiple directions and pierced every mark in the room.

He didn’t care about impressing the Coats, but he still released a pleased hum after hearing his entire audience gasp. The whole situation felt familiar for some reason. Completing such a test felt so natural to him, he could probably do it blindfolded.

“Again, but this time use only the feathers from your tail.”

He obeyed. With his body lowered and tail raised, it only took two seconds longer to hit each mark.

Several more tests took place. He chopped objects of different materials and varying thickness, sliced apart a combat robot while using only his tail as a blade, and showed off his speed and aerial maneuvers during a small obstacle course.

His brain pulsed painfully. He doesn’t understand why taking so many commands was such a painful struggle.

He didn’t mind the tests much. At least he can actually do something in these test fields, as opposed to sitting in his empty room all day. After the very pleasant time spent with you, it was nothing but hours of pacing, scratching, and grooming out of boredom.

You mentioned there being others like him in those rooms. How do they handle having absolutely nothing to do for so long?

“Its mind tends to wander, doesn’t it?”

He turns to the source of the voice and finds a pair of Coats that stared at him like they were trying to probe his mind with just their eyes. The rest were scrambling about, discussing the excellence of his performance and scribbling notes.

But these two only seemed interested in watching him get lost in his thoughts. He stared back, waiting to see if they had any commands to give.

One of them only smirked as the loyal creature stood at full attention. “Yes, not very hostile, either. Not only is he capable of higher levels of thinking, he is the first High End that doesn’t host the body of some brutish villain. A more complex mind often comes with very human...quirks.”

Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.

x---x---x---x---x

When you stepped into Hawks’s room for the second morning, you were ready to step right back out when you saw the state of it.

Claw marks everywhere, covering the walls and floor like webs embedded in the surface. Hawks was looking at you closely while stooped low to the floor, but his body appeared relaxed and not ready to lunge.

Not a single hair on you moved when you spoke. “Are you alright?”

He tilted his head at the question, releasing a puff of air through his nostrils before returning to whatever he was trying to do to the floor. He wasn’t violent with his movements. The talons scraped across wide curves, long lines, other patterns with seemingly no goal in mind. Looking around at the other claw marks, you realize that none of them are the angry slashes of a beast throwing a fit. They all looked to have been drawn in a calm matter, twisting and turning into random non-specific shapes.

“Raptor, are you…bored?”

He paused his carving to look at you again and releases a long and drawn-out groan, throat vibrating along with the vocals. Was that a whine?

All of the High Ends had traces of their original personality, but this was on another level. It wasn’t unwelcomed, however. “You know, when the other High Ends don’t have anything to do, they kinda just…I don’t know, it’s like they put their brains on a power-saver mode. You can’t do that?”

His brain responds with several strong pulses. Gross, you’re never going to get used to that pink-gray matter moving around. After what was apparently deep thought, Hawks gave a softer groan and shook his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly at this entire situation. “Incredible. You’d think that these smartasses would know that making a creature of extraordinary intelligence—I bet that’s what they said—would mean that your big gross brain needs regular stimulation. Geniuses, my ass.”

Hawks gave a beastly snort. Seems like he agrees with you. You don’t mean to sound like those insane bastards, but it truly was incredible to see a High End that showed interest in casual conversation, not just commands or any opportunity to cause destruction.

Feeling confident that he won’t maul you out of boredom, you finally approach and kneel in front of him. “Sorry, there’s not much I can do about that,” you said with genuine sympathy. “Not like I have any entertainment of my own. My room sucks too. But—“ You held up your fresh new jar. “Maybe we can kill some time together again? God, that makes me sound like a sex worker for you guys.”

You don’t know if he has a sense of humor, but he clearly understands your hints and perks up. He stands so that your face is leveled with his groin, black scaly hands tugging at his shorts until a loud rip causes him to grunt in frustration. You giggle and decide to help tear the rest off. “They were just shitty rags, anyway,” you said.

He was already growing right in front of you. Your hand wraps around him for a second time, thankful that it doesn’t startle him again. He tenses for only a moment, but quickly relaxes when your stroking begins, a large pair of testes swinging freely now that there was no cloth to contain them.

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. “You’re not even built as big as the other nomu, but those are still impressive. I guess you’ve got plenty of samples to give, huh? Good, ‘cause I’ve gotta do this every damn day.”

You received a purr and a swish of his tail in response. It was a one-sided conversation, but it was still pretty refreshing. Milking the other High Ends was an uncomfortable task, one where you always had to be prepared with a loud and strong “No” or “Stop” whenever their excitement evolved into aggression. Every minute was tense, and despite your occasional wish for release from this shitty life, you didn’t want a violent end at the hands of these sex-hungry monstrosities.

His reactions weren’t too different from yesterday; he was being more vocal and less shy about physically expressing his pleasure. The massive black wings blew your hair back with each powerful beat, and his tail was thrashing about even more wildly.

His deep purrs weren’t unpleasant, slowly changing into higher mewls as he got closer. “Come on, just do what you did last time.”

And so he did, delivering another fresh sample straight into your container with a warped cry. His hands lingered right over you, clenched in tight fists that surely had those sharp talons digging into his rough palms. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he was trying not to grab you this time. Would he really care about that without being told?

Hot, tired breaths blew into your hair as he recovered from his climax. Then, with his head reared back, he let out a yawn. You even heard a faint little whine similar to a dog escape him. It would have been pretty endearing if it weren’t for just how widely his mouth was opened, displaying the scary set of teeth within. Does he really use those in combat?

With his still-dripping member going flaccid, he returned to the spot he was scratching at, lazily tracing the markings that were already made. The thought of him doing this for another ten hours or so made you frown. They probably wouldn’t care if you stayed in this room a little longer than usual, would they?

Shrugging, you kneeled down again, this time resting beside him. Hawks stopped and looked at you curiously.

“Sharpen one of your feathers and give it to me,” you ordered.

Almost immediately a feather appears right in front of you. You grab it, taking care not to cut your fingers on the razor-like barbs. When’s the last time you’ve held a writing utensil? Shifting awkwardly next to the large nomu, you took the quill and began scratching lines into the floor. The hot heavy breaths and overall warmth from his close presence was hard to ignore. You’ve never been this close to a nomu for any reason that wasn’t jerking them off. He remained calm, watching your hand closely until you finished drawing a small grid.

“You know how to play tic tac toe?”

He blinked.

“…Okay, it’s pretty simple. You fill a space with either an ‘O’ or an ‘X’…”

Somehow, teaching a killer monster how to play a common children’s game was weirder than making him jizz. He caught on quickly, favoring X’s. You were winning each game at first, but once he figured out all of the possible patterns, every game was ending in a draw. You drew larger grids, sometimes having both of you move to a different spot for more room. Most matches were still draws, but he will sometimes catch you by surprise and scratch a row of three X’s that you didn’t notice in time, his tail swishing out of what may have been pride or enjoyment.

After a while you decided to show him other shapes. Maybe he can experiment with them more when you were gone. Who knows, soon he might be drawing more than random lines. He wasn’t bad company, to be honest. Then again, your standards have taken a nosedive ever since you winded up in this facility of unethical science. It was nice to spend time with anything that didn’t want to just tear you in half with a massive cock.

Only when you felt like you overstayed your welcome and stood back up did you realize how much of a mess you both made of the floor and walls.

“Oops, it looks like a bunch of kids got in here,” you said while looking at the collage of shapes and lines. Hopefully the doctors won’t find this too strange; he was pretty intelligent, after all. “Well, it’s about time I take my leave. You keep practicing your doodling skills, I guess.” With the jar of white fluid back in your arms, you headed on out, but a large hand grabs onto your arm.

Hawks’s yellow eyes were wider than usual, a scraping, guttural noise leaving his throat as he toyed with his voice.

“Sss…..aaayy…” Just like the other High Ends, his vocals were warped and all-around unsettling, but you could hear it, traces of the playful and smooth-talking hero that you used to watch during interviews and talk shows. It was barely there, but it was still there.

“St…aay.”

You couldn’t help the sad smile that graced your face. He was looking at you like a puppy. “Sorry, but I don’t know what they’d do if they notice me staying here for too long,” you explained.

He winced from the strain of his vocal chords. “Come…back?”

You shook your head. “There are cameras in the halls. I shouldn’t be going in and out of your room.” You tensed under his grip, afraid that refusing him like this will anger him. He has been very docile so far, but you don’t know what it takes to set him off.

Thankfully, he lets go of you and backs away with another one of those whines. For God’s sake, were you really feeling bad about leaving one of these...things?

To be fair, in the two days you’ve known him, Hawks was already much different from the others. Hell, he hasn’t even shown any true signs of aggression yet. The other High Ends are always expressing some desire to attack or break something. You thought it came naturally with all of the engineering. For something that was apparently supposed to be their finest specimen yet, Hawks’s behavior wasn’t fitting for his job at all. You just played tic tac fucking toe with him like two kids on a sidewalk.

That’s probably why you found yourself trying to reassure him. “We can play some more tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

An odd clicking noise was made—he sure had a variety of sounds reminiscent of birds—and he returned to his favorite corner, hooking his talons into an empty spot on the wall to begin yet another drawing.

The slightest hint of warmth could be felt in your chest as you left him to his creative tasks. This place sucks and has deprived you of everything good in life for…you’ve lost track of how long. You’ll take whatever you can get to make things more bearable around here.

And if that ‘whatever’ turns out to be a former top hero who was killed and resurrected into a horrid experiment, then so be it.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #2: Reptile

Notes: The Reptile quirk will make for a great upgrade to Raptor’s physical capabilities. He may possess wings, but the ability to climb almost any surface will be helpful in enclosed areas and improve his overall performances in stealth. A flexible spine allows him to comfortably be both bipedal and quadrupedal, the digitigrade legs granting him greater speed and jumps.

Also, someone needs to send in a request for a new pair of shorts for the damned thing.

There were many more instructions to follow this time. The Coats were bombarding him with one command after another.

“Climb up here.”

“Slash this with your talons.”

“Crush this with your hands. Try again with your feet.”

His head throbbed painfully as the voices took hold of his movements. They pushed his endurance to the limit when they made him run on a machine, first on his legs, then again on all fours. He was only running in place, but it was much more satisfying than pacing back and forth in that boring room.

It turns out that he can scale walls and ceilings with little effort thanks to the pads on his hands and feet. Maybe he can try drawing on the ceiling when he returns to his room. The only downside was that you wouldn’t be able to sit up there with him.

The Coats observed behind the (assumed) safety of a wall of thick glass. Each one possessed a small microphone so that their voice can still be heard clearly through the speaker on his side of the room.

They always watched him with cold and calculating eyes, and only spoke to him when telling him to do something. You feared him; his feathers easily sensed your tension, unsteady breaths, and quickening heartbeats, yet you still took the time to be friendly. And what you do with those hands…he wishes you’d make him feel that good all day. Yes, his room was small and boring, but it did have you.

“Raptor, to the opposite end of the room,” a Coat ordered. The sensation of being pulled by his entire head forced him to take his place at the wall, staring straight ahead at the door.

His wings twitched from a powerful approaching presence, feathers instinctively sharpening at the possible incoming threat. The door was opened by a small Coat to make way for a beast, a beast with a large powerful form and exposed brain just like him.

Vacant eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through him like it was dead on its feet.

“This is one of Cloner’s spawn, yes?” A female Coat spoke with her mouth close to the mic. He supposes that they don’t care if he hears them.

“Yes. His offspring always turn out even more unstable than him. This one can’t even produce a single proper clone, and no additional quirks were inherited. It’s useless.”

“Well, at least it’ll help us in its final moments.” The man leaned into his mic. “Raptor, kill the nomu. Do not use your wings.”

The woman followed up with her own order. “Nomu, kill Raptor.”

Blood was suddenly rushing through his body twice as fast, the reds of his eyes appearing and locking onto the target that was already charging at him with a horrifying wail.

Kill it.

He ducked under the bigger creature’s closing arms that would have likely trapped him into a crushing hug, causing his opponent to lose balance and fall forward. His hand shot up and dug his talons into thick flesh, slicing it from its chest all the way down to its stomach as he ran beneath. Rising from under the nomu’s legs, he turned to see his gruesome work.

Instead, he sees the blur of a fist right before it smashes into his face and sends him flying. His back colliding hard with the wall accompanied the shattering of his jaw. There was no time to wait for his vision to clear up, scrambling out of the path of the charging silhouette before it slams into the now-empty spot, the impact shaking the entire room.

The pain only intensified when his face and spine began to shift, mending itself back together while he tried his hardest to keep his eye on the much more violent beast. A ghoulish moan was heard as it straightened itself, and Raptor could see the large gash that should have easily disemboweled it already closing up.

Ah, so they can both heal.

It was already charging straight at him again. The thing was fast and powerful, but it was acting like it had a one-track mind, sticking to a simple strategy of running towards him and dealing whatever damage it could.

His wings twitched, but there was a barrier in his mind preventing them from moving. Damned Coats.

The fight became a game of evasion, darting and dashing around the bigger and stronger nomu’s swings and countering with deep slashes. Wearing it down was impossible with such rapid healing, every cut he brought upon its skin was quickly sewn shut.

His only chance was to attack its brain, but the nomu had enough sense to protect its one true vulnerable spot, nearly crushing Raptor’s arm into paste after an attempt to sink his talons into the soft matter.

So he kept dodging, and dodging, until something inside the creature just...snapped. Perhaps it was out of frustration in failing to land any hits, but its haunting moans and wails soon became full on screams. Tightly clenched fists pounded into the floor, the stone floor crumbling under the sudden tantrum. Raptor stood and watched, wings tensing from the burst of tortured emotions.

“Hm, you weren’t exaggerating about the meltdowns,” he heard one of the Coats say, her voice as dull as ever.

“What an embarrassment. Damn thing can’t even carry out a simple fight.”

Raptor looked behind the glass of spectators and saw faces of disappointment.

“A complete waste.”

“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”

“What a sad display.”

“Pathetic.”

He looked back at the creature that was now writhing and flailing, its skin oozing a blob that throbbed and squirmed, like it was trying its hardest to take a shape. 

But the bubbly pulses stop and the dripping mass melts into a lifeless puddle. The nomu continues to scream after its failed attempt at using its quirk. Raptor’s gut twists with pity.

A sad display, indeed.

“Raptor! Did you forget your orders? Kill him!” 

The sharp command smothers all feelings of sympathy, and before Raptor knew it, he was running toward the tormented creature, each feather on his tail sharpening with every step. Ducking under a blind swipe, the black spear thrusted forward and pierced its brain with a sickening shlunk.

The thrashing was reduced to short spasms as the nomu choked out its final groans, its terrified eyes glazing over when the last traces of life faded. 

The tail was yanked out and shook off the blood and spongy brain matter to splatter on the ground. Raptor gave a soft whine of distress.

“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”

“Yep, that didn’t exactly challenge Raptor at all.”

“I’m concerned about his lack of aggression. Did you all see him hesitate?”

“Most likely just confusion and caution after witnessing such a sudden breakdown.”

So many voices, so many comments; Raptor paid no attention to them. His mind was on the corpse that continued to bleed heavily from the large gash in its head. Raptor was the stronger nomu. He won.

Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?

“He’s a very smart one. Did you see the markings in his room? He and his harvester have been...bonding.” That voice...Raptor recognized it as the Coat that showed up every morning to retrieve him from his room to enter these test rooms. “I can’t decide if I like the idea of a friendly nomu.”

The woman dismissed his worries. “As long as he knows to kill when he’s told, his behavior shouldn’t matter. But it might benefit us to test his relationship with his owner after we’ve finished observing his quirks.”

His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.

Raptor doesn’t like it here.

x---x---x---x---x

Maybe it’s just because Friday (you’re pretty sure it’s Friday on your self-made calendar) tends to be your busiest day of the week, or that your wrist is beginning to wear down from the many giant dicks you’ve been stroking. Or maybe it’s just one of those days when you remember just how shitty this life was. Whatever it was, you weren’t in one of your best moods today. 

That’s why you felt just the smallest hint of excitement when you reached Hawks’s door. Yes, it’s weird, but he was the closest thing you had to a companion around here, alright? 

The last thing you expected was to open the door to an empty room, at least it appeared that way until you saw the black creature resting on the ceiling.

“Aah!” You yelp and drop the jar out of fright, causing Hawks to jump from the sudden noise. You curse and quickly pick up the container and scan it for any cracks while he gracefully twists his body to drop on the floor with a thud. He was as graceful as a cat...a cat that can comfortably sit upside down.

Relieved to see the jar in one piece, you turned your attention back to the waiting High End. “I didn’t know you could climb like that.”

His wings fluttered at the comment and he raised his palms right in front of your face. Ah yes, a hand. Very lovely. But looking more closely, you could see a difference in texture on the rounded pads of his fingertips. “Ooh, little sticky hairs, huh?”

He gave a click of what you assumed to be approval, tail swinging behind him.

“So I guess you’re not just born knowing everything your body can do. Sounds troublesome.” There’s something you wanted to do, something you wouldn’t ever consider doing with the other nomu even in your dreams. “May I, uh, touch them?” You held up your own hands innocently.

Hawks cocked his head, a gesture that you’re always going to find kinda cute, before grunting and bringing his larger hands to yours. All ten of your fingers made contact, and the slightest shiver shot down your spine. 

It’s the first time you’ve ever touched one of these monsters outside of jerking them to collect semen. Your curiosity was always there, but the disgust and fear you often felt when in their presence fueled the overpowering desire to hurry up, get the damn job done, and get away from them as quickly as possible.

You never imagined that you’d be standing face to face with a High End, feeling the surprisingly soft pads on his scaly hands, his breaths deep and hot against your face as those red irises watched your expressions. He was still very intimidating with his tall form, glowing glare, and the large imposing pair of wings. But those eyes—they contained too much intelligence and emotion in them.

Too human. It was as uncanny as it was fascinating. 

Only when his eyes close and he begins to croon softly do you realize that one of your hands have moved up to touch his face. The black skin feels extra thick when you gently press his cheek, strong and leathery. He leans in and brings his head closer to give you better access, and you can’t help but reward the reaction with scratches against his jaw and chin.

“You know, you’ve been doing a shitty job of acting like the ultimate killer,” you said when he purrs happily. 

The purr morphs into a disgruntled whine. “Don’t...like.”

Your hand pauses, hoping for him to elaborate as well as he could. “Don’t like…?” You encouraged him.

He was still struggling to work his vocal chords, but at least he seemed to be showing less pain. “Don’t like...k-killiiing.”

What?

“Raptor, that’s...you know...the very thing you were made for, and you don’t like doing it?” Not that you’re complaining about his gentle nature, but hearing a damn nomu say that he dislikes killing might be the most ludicrous thing you’ve heard here, even more so than the first time you were told to make an abomination cum.

His entire body stiffens, and you couldn’t help but tense up as well. “Maaade-” He makes a harsh hacking sound. “-to kill?”

Shit. You panic and attempt to backpedal. “Not to actually kill. You’re supposed to be, you know, the strongest creature that’s capable of killing whenever he wants...if you, uh, wanted to.” Yeah, that sounds good enough.

It appears to do the trick, his body relaxing again. “Don’t like,” he repeated more smoothly this time.

“I know, I know. Killing sucks. Just don’t tell the assholes in labcoats that, alright? Now calm down.” You return to your ministrations, this time using both hands to rub and scratch his face. His eyes drift shut again as your hands trail down to his slightly elongated neck, brushing past his steady pulse.

Reaching his collar and then his chest, you discover that he’s solid muscle everywhere. He may not be on the verge of bursting out of his own skin like the others, but he could no doubt snap you like a twig just as easily. You feel his chest heave from a deep breath, the strength emanating from his body making you shiver. You shush him when he jolts as your hands reach his pronounced abs, pushing against the hard muscle until you finally arrive at his groin.

You snorted at the new pair of shorts. “Another pair, huh? At least these look a little less ragged.”

You pulled his large member out for the third time. Why did you have to do this daily? What could they possibly be doing with so many jars of jizz? Making cakes?

Sighing, you brushed off the soreness of your arm and wrist and began to pump his ridged length. “Just do me a favor and try to cum quickly, alright?” 

He made a rather sad groan at that, curling into himself so that his face was close to yours. His sharp breaths were loud in your ears.

You couldn’t help but smile even through the strain of your muscles. “What, you wanna make this last? Do you know how many dicks I’ve had to tend to today? Cut me some slack, we’re gonna be doing this everyday, anyway.”

Hawks purrs before that monstrous voice shakes your body, his hot breath warming the side of your face and neck. “Feel gooood.”

The primal lust dripping from him triggers a pulse of warmth inside you. You...can’t remember the last time you’ve felt that, and it’s just a tad strange that a nomu caused it. Were you really that starved for attention? “I-” You cleared your throat after an awkward voice crack. “I know, handjobs tend to feel good. But please be a good boy and help me out here.”

He gives a puff that blows your hair back, but he complies. The big sweaty face that buries itself in your neck is so distracting that you almost forget to get your jar ready and fill it with the incoming spurts of semen. There, the final sample of the day has been collected. Now, if you could just push the panting fiend off of you before he starts drooling on your shoulder.

Something warm and slimy touches your neck. It has you pulling back so quickly that you almost fall and spill the vile essence all over you before the jar could be properly sealed.

Hawks shrinks back and quickly withdraws the indigo tongue into his mouth, looking down in what appears to be shame. You touch the licked spot, the thick saliva coating your fingers. 

“Sss-sorrry.” Regret can be heard clearly in his droning voice.

“No, it’s...it’s okay,” you stammer. The sensation lingers, and then ignites a spark somewhere inside you.

A sick, disgusting, and absolutely fucked up spark. The next thing you say should horrify you, but instead you feel nothing but a twisted form of anticipation. “You can...um...do that again, if you want.”

His tail slapped the floor in excitement before he slowly closed the distance again, cautiously looking into your eyes before his tongue slithers out and caresses the same wet space.

The smooth muscle is hot against you, extending to inhuman lengths to explore your neck. The slick sounds as it slid across your skin should have grossed you out—all of this should be grossing you out, so you don’t understand why you tilt your head back to give him more room. He licks up and down your throat slowly to savor your taste, breathing heavily and releasing a stale stench from his open maw. You imagined the breath of a previously dead man to smell a hundred times worse, frankly. 

With your neck completely drenched in his cooling slobber, he ventures upward, purring louder than ever as he tastes the flesh of your jaw. The tapered end of his tongue begins to curiously flick at your earlobe before circling around the shell of your ear. He seems to take a liking to the flabby cartilage and laps at it playfully while giving the occasional nip and suck and god, it’s all heard so fucking clearly, every schlick and smack traveling right through your canal and setting off questionable reactions all over you. Your hands are clenched and held against your chest, but you don’t tell him to stop.

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

The licking moves to your cheek, lapping at it shortly before moving to your pursed lips.

‘This is fucked up beyond words.’

You flinch when the clammy tongue brushes over your lips, at first smoothing over them lightly, possibly testing to see how you’d react. His face is so close, your noses almost touching. To allow a nomu this close to you, touching you like this…

When you make no move of resistance, he gets braver and laps at your mouth with controlled eagerness. Your eyes close to hide from the otherworldly gaze, but your lips feel even more sensitive to the weight that continues flicking and pressing at them, covering them in hot saliva. Several times does it briefly part your lips and graze your teeth, making you swallow at the thought of…

‘Don’t do that.’

Hawks pauses when you open up for him, but gives a gleeful chirp and snakes his way into your inviting mouth.

‘I’m really letting him do this.’

Clawed hands grab your arms a little too tightly and hold you in place. It hurts, yet all you can focus on is the flexible muscle exploring your mouth. It rubbed against the roof, pushed at the inside of your cheeks, and eventually stroked and curled around your own tongue.

‘You’re sick.’

But you’ve been sick ever since you got here, haven’t you?

When his grip loosens, you take the opportunity to place your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his...hair? Plumage? Was his hair always this feather-like?

A high-pitched sound of surprise leaves him when you try to pull him in closer. He quickly complies, closing the distance until his lips and mouth are covering yours.

It completely smothers your senses. You see his black wings expand to slowly encase both of you. You hear the wet friction of his tongue and the hungry growls that roll from his throat. You smell sweat and blood, briefly wondering just what exactly was he made to do during those ‘tests’. You taste the thick and flavorless saliva that makes you gag at first, but becomes easier to swallow as you take in more. And most of all, you feel him slowly moving in and out of your wide open mouth, the thrusting motion forcing your thighs to rub together in response to the growing heat threatening to consume you.

You snap out of it before that can happen.

Hawks pulls away when he hears your choked sounds of protest, your hands suddenly on his chest and pushing. Fresh oxygen rushes back into your lungs when his tongue leaves your mouth and retreats back into his. The warmth between your legs doesn’t fade away. Everything that just happened, everything you just allowed this monster to do fully sinks in.

And you fucking enjoyed it.

You back away from him as quickly as you can, ignoring his confused groans. A wave of nausea sweeps over you like a powerful gust that churns your stomach.

“Rest. I need to go.” It was all you said before you picked up the forgotten jar and fled the room, refusing to falter from the sorrowful whines behind you.

The urge to spew the little food you’ve been fed throughout the day all over the hallway floor is strong, but you manage to hold out until you reach the toilet in your room, quickly kneeling and hurling. It wasn’t much, but it still left you teary-eyed and with a burning throat.

What did you do? Just what the hell did you do that warranted getting kidnapped, having your nice comfortable life stolen from you, and the only way to cope was by making out with a horrid creature? You jolt from a painful mix of a sob and a hiccup. It’s been weeks since your last breakdown, but this new discovery was another hard blow to your sanity and pride. You let the tears flow as you flushed away your mess, moving over to your bed and collapsing onto the thin mattress. Fuck this facility. Fuck the scum that created all of this.

And fuck the throbbing wetness between your legs that still won’t go away.

Your sobs transform into humorless laughs. You’re going to have to get rid of the throbbing yourself, aren’t you? They won’t arrive to collect all of your samples for about another thirty minutes, so that should be enough time...

You pulled down the thin blue pants and rubbed your fingers over the slick that had gathered from what had transpired in Hawks’s room. It’s true, you’ve been doing nothing but sick shit since you’ve been tossed into this new life. Why do you even still hold on to feelings like shame and disgust? What good will they do you here?

So you try to drown out the voice of your conscience as you laid back, succumbing to the wonderfully twisted thoughts of a nomu’s tongue.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Examination

Quirk #3: Regeneration

Quirk#4: Heat Resistance

Notes: Our most advanced specimens deserve the best healing quirks we have to offer. Raptor is no exception. It will also make up for his lack of weight and hard muscle, not that he should ever be mistaken as frail. Most importantly, this should accelerate the regrowth of his feathers and supply him with an endless arsenal. We do not want to risk his regeneration being hindered by burns. After all, it was fire that led to the host’s death. This is why we have added a quirk that should make it almost completely fireproof.

The only people that Raptor disliked more than the Coats, were the Masks. The Coats saw him as nothing more than an attack dog that is expected to obey every command. But the humans in masks...to them, he was just a fleshy object to be dissected and analyzed.

They were poking and cutting to their heart’s content. His mind screamed to get away from the assortment of blades and needles that hovered over him, sinking into his skin in various places while he could only writhe against the cuffs of the metal table he was strapped to. He doesn’t believe it’s their intention to test every ounce of his willpower, but that sure as hell is what they’re doing right now as he tries, really tries not to use his feathers out of desperation.

“Excellent. The cuts begin healing the moment they’re made,” one of them observes. “Try deeper incisions. Maybe I should try removing one of its eyes.”

Raptor’s heartbeat was booming in his ears after hearing those words.

A younger Mask has been flinching from every one of the nomu’s movements. “Shouldn’t we sedate it or something? What if it lashes out?”

“Stop panicking. A nomu won’t hurt anyone without orders, though his responses to pain are stronger than I expected. We may have to fix that.”

Raptor wouldn’t mind that at all. He hisses and howls as he’s taken apart and mended back together in a torturous loop. His brain is throbbing so strongly one would worry that it might burst. He fights to think through all of the agony. 

He thinks of your touch. He thinks of your taste. Were you repulsed by what he did that morning? 

Sharp pain shot through his wings when his feathers were being forcefully yanked out, his teeth on the verge of shattering from his tightly clenched jaws.

“Perfect! Look at that, they’re already growing back in.” 

They were. He could feel the fresh plumes pushing through his skin. The regeneration did well in preventing any real damage, but it didn’t make the violent tearing of his feathers any easier to bear.

The cruel assault on his wings and tail eventually ended, black fluff littering the room’s floor. He remembers when you mentioned other nomu being capable of shutting down whenever they wanted. What he wouldn’t give to just turn off like a light switch right now.

“Alright, it’s time to move on to his heat resistance. Get the torch.”

The what? Raptor searched the fragments of his knowledge; most words were familiar to him, they just took a while to be remembered from...something. He doesn’t understand how he already knows so much, even though his subconsciousness needs time to dust everything off.

One of the Masks was holding a small object that ended in a tube. With a push of a button, a small blue flame appeared.

The glowing yellow eyes that were normally slits were suddenly wider than he thought possible, every part of him hyper focused on the small fire that was getting too close to his sore wings. His mind recovered a new piece of information:

Blue flames are to be feared.

He was thrashing the second the searing pain was felt, fighting to escape, to get away from the blue death that threatened to incinerate his wings again. He has felt this before. He doesn’t want to burn again.

Panic consumed him, unaware of how much his feathers have sharpened as he beats his wings and tail against the table. He can barely hear the Masks’ frantic voices over the ear-splitting screech, a screech that he realizes is coming from his own strained throat.

“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”

“–y arm! Fuck, my arm is bleeding bad–”

“–old you he’d attack! Why is he reacting so–”

“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”

Needles are being jammed into his neck, the chemicals working quickly in sapping away his strength, limbs becoming too heavy to move, and his thoughts were too cloudy to even continue panicking. The scorching heat was still present in his wing, but he can still feel the presence of all of his feathers. There was no foul smell of burnt plumage.

“Aaaugh, my arm...” In the corners of his vision, Raptor saw one of the Masks hunched over and clutching a blood-soaked arm. He didn’t mean to hurt any of them.

“Shut up and go patch yourself up.” An older man motioned the rest to come closer to the calmed nomu, which they cautiously obeyed. “Do you all see it? His feathers aren’t damaged at all. Perfect.”

“But why didn’t he stop resisting after you ordered him several times? And why was his reaction to pain so strong?”

The elder grimaced behind his mask and shook his head. “Its pain tolerance is laughable. There’s no use in a nomu having such sensitivity. We’ll need to perform an operation that will dull his nerves.” 

They scrambled around the table, gathering new tools and focusing the creaky hanging light on Raptor’s face. He was too doped up to even react to the harsh brightness.

“And if he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”

The nomu tried to make a sound of protest, but in his dazed state he could give no more than a pathetic whimper. He was rather thankful of the drugs for making him unable to notice just how many needles were sinking into his brain, or the blades that opened up the rest of his head, keeping the tools in place to prevent his skull from instantly healing. It still hurt, a lot. But as they tweaked his pulsing organ, injecting unknown fluids inside, the pain began to dim. Raptor would have celebrated and attempted to wag his tail in relief.

But it wasn’t the only thing that was fading. The coldness of the metal at his back was becoming distant, the chill in the air of the room was suddenly so faint that it no longer made him shiver. 

He wanted it all to hurt less, but he still wanted to feel. 

He has no idea how much time had passed once they finally finished and allowed his bone and flesh to close up. The old Mask stared down at him, gloves drenched in thick crimson.

“That should do it. Going by your weaker reactions, the operation was a success and you now feel less sensation. Good.”

‘No. Not good.’ It’s what he was tempted to say, but Raptor didn’t want to utter a single word to anyone besides you, and the cruel man’s recent threat of robbing him of his free will ensured that he keeps his mouth shut.

Raptor hates it here.

x---x---x---x---x

There were fresh claw marks covering the walls of Hawks’s room, and this time they were angry. The drawings and games you made together were literally slashed out, with spots of blood spread out all over the floor.

He was curled up in a corner, wings concealing most of his shaking form.

“Raptor.” Firmly addressing him is usually all it takes to gain his full attention, just like any other nomu, High End or not.

Hawks doesn’t respond at all.

That’s new...and very unnerving.

You called him again. The mass of feathers didn’t budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He had clearly just thrown a violent tantrum, and you don’t know if he has fully calmed down yet. Approaching him is too risky, but the damn nomu won’t even acknowledge you. So you’ll have to get through him in a more natural way. 

“Raptor, is everything alright? Do you, um, need some space? I can come back a little later...maybe another thirty minutes or so.” You offered, your body slightly twisting toward the door, ready to bolt if he decided to attack. You ignored the cold hard fact that the door and your legs would do little in protecting you from him.

His tail slowly uncurls like a timid snake, wings following suit and revealing his shrunken form. He was hugging himself tightly, talons peeling the skin off of his biceps. His head hung low, but you can see the spot of red in each eye looking right at you. He looked like an angry and frightened child, and his pitiful plea didn’t help matters.

“Don’t...go.”

His vulnerable state quelled your fears, but you still took caution. “Can I come closer?”

He looks down at the floor for a moment, seemingly pondering the question, before straightening his posture and nodding. 

You follow the routine you’ve been getting used to with him, setting aside the jar and taking some time to talk. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

It was supposed to compel him to instantly explain the issue, or at least attempt to with his awkward speech. You instead see him flinch and growl lowly, as if he didn’t appreciate you making demands. Just what is going on with him?

Your anxiety was probably visible since he quickly switched back to a less aggressive stance. You wince when he drags a claw through his flesh, blood leaking out for only a second before the wound instantly repairs itself. “Can’t feel.” He weeps with cracks in his unnatural voice. At least he’s dragging out his words less and sounds less like a moaning zombie.

“You can’t feel?” You repeated, edging closer and placing a hand over the healed spot. Another growl, louder this time, scares you into pulling away. But his bigger hand seizes yours and presses it hard onto the black skin. You feel the tremors that begin to wrack his body and try to stay calm in the wake of his growing distress. 

His voice becomes only more broken. “Can’t feel it! Can’t feel you!”

You find yourself shushing him, holding your free hand up like you’re trying to calm a panicking animal. You cup the side of his face, but that seems to upset him even more. “You can’t feel my hand?”

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. How freely he can emote still freaks you out a bit, face looking on the verge of shedding tears. Everything about him continues to be so surreal.

“Raptor, you’re a shitty nomu,” you told him with a small smile. “Not that I mind.”

And there goes that cute head tilt. The thought of him being released in a city to wreak havoc, just like the one that attacked Endeavor and...him, feels less possible after every meeting.

He was still powerful and potentially dangerous, if the state of the walls were anything to go by. You really shouldn’t be pushing your luck or his temper. On the other hand, you did decide yesterday that from now on, you are going to embrace the depraved dumbass within you. Hawks stiffens and starts to slowly pull back, but your hand makes its way to the back of his head. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” you soothed him. “I just want to see if you can feel any of this.”

With no more hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling his shock through a surprised grunt. For a minute, you simply cover his rough lips with kisses while he stays completely still, eyes looking on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. It looked downright silly. Why was he so shocked by a simple kiss anyway, after the way you let him ravage your mouth yesterday? 

Your lips pause when you remember the distraught sounds he made that morning as he watched you rush out of the room. That’s right.

“Hey,” you murmur against him. “Sorry for taking off like that last time. Just...don’t worry about it, okay.” He released a hot breath onto your face. Your trapped hand is finally freed from his iron grip, numb and stiff, but you keep your attention on the motionless nomu. “We’re not exactly supposed to be doing this, but I want you t-mmf!”

He suddenly went forward and attacked your lips, aggressively mimicking your movements with enough force to bruise. You try to keep up and calm his pace, sighing into his mouth once his lips finally begin to slow down. He’s clumsy like you expected, but his intelligence shows when he tries to follow your lead and quickly learns the intimate dance of your mouths. The occasional swipe of that blasted tongue across your lip makes you gasp, and then you feel big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, the beats of his excited wings, the throaty growls that rattle your entire being…

You can feel yourself heating up again already.

“Mmm, Raptor...wait,” you manage to say between kisses, your hands pushing against his chest. He gives a grating sound of annoyance, but pulls away like you wished. You were suddenly hyper aware of his size and strength – this monster that was holding you closely and taking care not to harm you. If any other nomu had you like this, they undoubtedly wouldn’t have stopped.

“So, did you feel any of that?” Your hand travels down to his groin and rubs at the bulge that still had a lot of growing to do. “Do you feel that?”

To your dismay, he shakes his head. “No,” he groans as his wings droop closer to the floor. 

It has you stumped. How are you supposed to please him when his whole body is numb?

“But…” He licks his lips slowly. “Can still taste. Tastes so good.”

When you let him lap at your lips again, he twitches beneath the ragged cloth.

You put two and two together, and the realization makes you gulp. And ache.

Remember, shame is useless here.

He allows you to back away and create some distance. The sight before you is frightening on its own: The sharp stare of the raven-winged fiend while surrounded by the deep marks of its outburst would do well in intimidating any sane individual. Remembering what exactly he is makes you pause only for a second, your hands grabbing the bottom of your thin blue shirt and lifting it before your pesky conscience can even get a word in.

Hawks’s wings flare out slightly when your breasts are revealed to him, talons clicking against the floor as he shuffles about, at a loss of how to react. Relieved that you haven’t been pounced on immediately, you lean down to remove your pants next, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you pull the garment down and step out of them. They never supplied you with underwear, so with your two articles of clothing removed, you were completely nude in front of the dangerous nomu.

At first you both just stared at each other, until he finally came forward to scan your body more closely, mindful of how nervous you were. The tension made you almost choke and cough on your words.

“I-if you want to…taste more of me, go ahead.” You didn’t mean to squeak out those last two words. You blame it on the chilly air.

The hands that take hold of your hips feel extra hot, along with the breath that grazes your chest. The blue tongue slides past his lips and extends to press against the spot right over your pounding heart, then moving smoothly up the column of your neck and your cheek in one long swipe, the wet trail making you shudder. The mouth ventures close to your ear to utter the word that you remember repeating to him on the first day you got him off.

“Calm.”

It’s followed by a rolling purr that eases you into doing just that. The humming continues while he eyes your breasts, nipples already pert from being exposed to the air. Even in your more relaxed state, the sudden lick across your tit makes your breath hitch. He seems to enjoy your response and repeats the action, giving it several more laps before wrapping around the entirety of the soft globe like a tentacle, squeezing gently.

“Ah, Raptor,” you moan when the tip of the tongue flicks at your nipple, sending the tiniest of jolts through you. “Damn, where did you learn to do that?” 

He answers with nothing more than a groan as he continues to show off his tongue’s flexibility. It coils and swirls around the skin until every inch of it is covered in his saliva, making you even more sensitive to the cold air. Satisfied with his work, he moves on to repeat the motions with your other breast.

The pleasure was soothing, like a massage…if the masseuse had sticky boneless limbs. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, letting yourself enjoy the vile act of a monster sampling your taste. 

His mouth suddenly engulfs you, the damp heat adding to the ongoing feeling of his tongue dancing around your tit. The purrs abruptly become a powerful vibration that electrifies your skin and brings forth your moisture to drip and run down your thighs.

But Hawks suddenly pulls away and stares at you intensely, the glower snapping you out of your daze.

“What is it?” You were getting nervous again. Did one of your reactions irritate him?

He breathes in, again and again, sniffing at the air for something. The swaying tail hints that whatever he smells is exciting him. His head lowers in pursuit of the scent and stops at your womanly mound to take a long whiff at the spicy aroma emanating from your cunt.

With his breath now blowing right against your sex and increasing your arousal, your juices trickled freely onto the floor and for him to see. The clawed hands on your hips held you steady, preventing you from collapsing from the nerve-racking anticipation that had you shaking all over. At no point in your life have you ever felt this exposed, being ogled by a pair of eyes in which the irises were bigger than you’ve ever seen them, mesmerized by the source of the delicious smell.

The tongue slips between your thighs before you could even prepare yourself, stretching across the entirety of your lips, over your entrance, nearly reaching your ass before it pulls back toward his mouth, the rubbing of the silky muscle creating buzzes of pleasure. Looking down gives you the unpleasant view of his brain, but you also get to see him swallow and savor your taste, humming deeply in approval before salivating with the need to drink up more.

“Good.”

He doesn’t wait for your response – his face is already being shoved into you, and you’re suddenly bombarded with delightful hot sensations all over your pussy. The ravenous organ travels up and down your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet nectar while you could do nothing but spread your legs to give him more leeway – God you’re such a whore – and cover your mouth in the hope that no passerbys hear your moans in the room. 

When your legs officially become jelly and can no longer support you, Hawks tires of holding you up and allows you to fall back a little too hard onto the floor, the impact making you wince. Any other time, he probably would have at least made a sound of apology, but your sopping wet pussy has stolen his attention. He wastes no time in lifting your hips up toward his waiting mouth, now utilizing his lips along with his tongue to loudly slurp up your essence.

His vicious hunger has you seeing stars. Wings open up and expand around both of you like black curtains that darken your vision, like a bird of prey mantling over a hard-earned meal. The only thing you can clearly see between your legs are the eerie glows of red and yellow; the glare of a demon that seeks to devour you from the inside. He starts to suck your folds dry, growling as he inspects every inch of the ravaged honeypot until his lips brush against your neglected clit.

A muffled “fuck!” passes between your fingers, both of your hands tightly clamped over your mouth. The reaction surprises him, and to his delight, it triggers more of your nectar to flow. The most efficient gag wouldn’t have been enough to suppress your scream when he sucked hard on your sensitive bud.

You couldn’t help it. Fighting past the paralyzing pleasure, your hands blindly grab at his head and accidentally bury your fingers into a soft squishy brain. The discomfort makes him shake his head and groan in irritation, raising his head and narrowing those menacing eyes at you as a silent warning.

“Hah...shit...I’m sor–AH! Fuck-oh my god....” He’s already attacking your clit again before you can finish your apology. All he cares about at the moment is your taste, and not even you were going to interrupt him. The surrounding wings occasionally twitch and shudder around you, vibrating along with your approaching climax. But the second you feel dangerously close, his lips leave the perky little pebble and move back down to lap at your fresh flow. It tears you away from an orgasmic finale and brings you back to that sensual middle ground. The audible licks were amazing, but you need to reach that edge. Your hand drifted down to your pussy, right over his tongue where you can give your clit the stimulation needed to cum…

“Hwrrrrrrr…”

You felt the terrifying snarl more than you heard it, shaking you to your very core. The other core, not the one on the verge of bursting. You immediately pull away and freeze, shivering and breathing quickly at the sight of his bared fangs. For a brief moment, the tent of feathers showed off a faint sheen, like they all suddenly sharpened. A quivering, fear-fueled gasp left you. 

It felt like the staredown went on forever, but Hawks was eventually convinced that you weren’t going to distract him from his feast again and returned his gaze to the fragrant pussy before him. However, after a few more licks, he grunted in frustration. You weren’t secreting your precious juices fast enough; your body simply couldn’t keep up with his newfound greed.

The insatiable tongue keeps poking and prodding at your opening until it pushes in just enough to slightly stretch your walls. You struggle to stay relaxed and keep your hands to yourself. Hawks was currently as unpredictable as any other nomu, and you didn’t want to piss him off.

When the hot thick muscle is suddenly shoved into you, you don't even have time to cover your mouth and block the next scream that is ripped from your throat. There’s no time to adjust to the completely foreign sensation. It squirms inside of you like a living creature, massaging your pussy in ways you didn’t even know were possible, sometimes hitting that special soft spot.

Your molten center spreads its flames across every nerve. This is far beyond what you fantasized on the night you touched yourself. His tongue was able to fill you completely, all while moving around more freely than a cock or even fingers ever could. Too soon does it leave your pulsing walls and back into his mouth, where he swallows every drop he’s gathered before shooting his tongue back out and penetrating you again before you can even complain.

He was moving with more force, enough to create a visible swell in your stomach that moved along with his tongue. You can’t look away from it, even as he begins to push in and out at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up to new heights while the bulge in your belly moves up and down. You’re tempted to ask him to move his wings to allow more light for a better view, but interrupting him now is probably a stupid idea.

He pants loudly from his open mouth as he fucks you thoroughly with nothing more than a long powerful tongue, his thrusts moving faster and deeper in search of more of your savory wetness.

Meanwhile, you were dizzy. It was uncomfortable at first. It’s been so long since you’ve been fully stretched, but it all quickly melds into pleasure you have long since forgotten – no – you hadn’t even known. Your interest in sex has greatly diminished during your stay here. Hell, you were certain that your libido was officially dead. But Hawks….

This abomination was going to be the death of you.

Your g-spot is suddenly struck again, and again. Most of your words were incoherent, and the ones that could be made out were nothing more than endless encouragement.  “Gah-hnngh, fuck, Hawks, you want more, don’t you? Ah, I’m about to give you more. Keep going Hawks don’t fucking stop.” 

Talons are biting into your skin from his tightened grip. With a low bellow of excitement, his mouth moves to cover your entire sex, prepared for the incoming downpour, and thrusts his tongue into your most sensitive spot repeatedly without mercy.

The pressure within explodes violently, completely overshadowing that laughable orgasm you gave yourself yesterday. Each contraction adds more white that flashes in your eyes, moving in from the corners of your vision until it becomes as blinding and unbearable as the bliss that washes over you. There are noisy gulps between your legs, the parched monster happily taking every rush of fluid directly into his mouth and down his throat until he finally has his fill.

Even through your spasms your walls try desperately to clamp around his tongue as it leaves, but to no avail. The looming wings finally move away and return to their usual resting spot behind his back while he sets your lower body down and licks his lips for any remaining traces of your slick. The talons never broke your skin, but they did leave some glaring marks on your hips and ass.

You still tingled all over from the waist down while your muscles make the greatest effort to respond to any of your commands. No use. You decide to lay there covered in the monster’s spit. The work of that amazing specimen of a tongue almost made you forget that this was being done to arouse him. You should probably check to see if he was hard. He may not be able to feel your hand anymore, but he still might be excited enough to cum from the act. Stupid science bastards, making your job more complicated.

“Hawks.”

The single word uttered from the nomu clears your mind instantly. Your weakened arms push you upright to properly face him. He was still crouching, scaly toes supporting the weight of his body like a gargoyle without a perch.

“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”

What? When did you…?

Oh. Shit. Your mouth was moving on its own while he was eating you out.

Your mind was zipping in several directions at once, hoping that he wouldn’t find anything odd about your eyes darting about, looking everywhere except at him. You settled on a simple and dismissive answer. “Oh...don’t worry about it. I was just babbling while you had me on cloud nine,” you said with a crooked smile.

Black lips twisted into a frown, accompanied by a quick beat of his wings and then...eww. His brain is pulsing way too much, so much that he shakes his head in agitation, which only adds to the disturbing visual as the organ jiggles slightly in his head. “Hawks...don’t know...I know…” His words jumbled over his inner turmoil. The long tail lifted and began to swing quickly.

You sat there, nude and bewildered. Every High-End still carried traces of who they once were, expressing some of the same behaviors and habits they presumably had before death.

This is the first time you’ve seen one with any sort of recollection of their past life, even if it’s something as minor as feeling a connection to their name. You have a feeling that’s not supposed to happen.

You shouldn’t tell him anything; nothing good will come out of it. He needs to shut up and start being a bloodthirsty killer before the doctors decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth.

“Raptor,” your shaky legs move slowly, shifting until you’re resting on your knees, face to face with the nomu that still looks interested in your naked body even as his head throbs. “It’s not important. Stop thinking about it.”

The look he gives you is one of hurt and dammit, this is exactly his problem. “But...Hawks. Want to know what-”

“I said stop thinking!”  Your volume shocks both of you, but Hawks actually recoils from the unexpected shout. You don’t care, all it does is confuse you more, anger you more. “Why the hell aren’t you listening to me anymore? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Do whatever we tell you! What, did you break?” A full-body chill reminds you of the state you’re in. You were seriously having an outburst while still completely naked with Hawks’s saliva glistening over your thighs. You groan and turn away from the troubled hybrid to grab your clothes and dress yourself, not giving a damn if you pissed him off and he decides to kill you right there. He’d be doing both of you a favor, really.

But it shouldn’t be a surprise when you see that he hasn’t budged from his spot, making no move to retaliate. “I like you, Raptor,” you admitted. “Somehow, you managed to be the only welcomed company in this fucked up hospital slash prison, but you shouldn’t be. What we just did...that shouldn’t have happened. Fuck, I – I should’ve been terrified, and I kinda was, but, I shouldn’t have felt that good!” Your doubts, your conscience, they both return with a vengeance. But this time it’s not you they’re worried about. 

“If this is how you act around everyone else, you’re not going to last here.” You hold his face in your hands, a tender gesture that shouldn’t be possible with the likes of him. “These assholes are gonna get rid of you if you don’t do what they want, and they’re going to ask for horrible things. I know you don’t like killing, but if you keep up all of...this, you’re going to lose more than your sense of touch.”

He doesn’t make a sound, only staring at you before gritting his teeth and nodding in your gentle grasp. His compliance both relieves and hurts you.

“I’m sorry, but no more questions. Please? The less you know, the better.”

“No more…questions.” Dammit, you hate how clear the sorrow is in his eerie voice, like the mournful moans of a lost soul. “No more.”

You give him a smile of thanks, it’s the least you could give him. You try to bring the atmosphere back to its usual awkward yet friendly vibe. “Now, let me see if your, um, tasting did you any good.” You move to pull down his shorts. That is, until you notice the large damp spots and stains on the cheap material. Oh, he did not.

“Welp, it obviously worked. Now how am I gonna scrape this shit off?”

x---x---x---x---x

Hawks.

Flames.

Decay.

Death. Everywhere.

But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t his doing. 

Maybe he did kill a few...he wasn’t sure. It’s all so blurry and nauseating. 

Was he killing people? Was he…trying to save them? A monster like him, saving people?

“No more questions.”

Your voice echoes, bouncing across the shattered fragments of his mind. Raptor tries to obey. He doesn’t know what this Hawks is, or why it keeps plaguing him.

Whatever Hawks was, it’s gone. Raptor wants it to leave him alone.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #5: Camouflage

Notes: As you know by now, Raptor differs from other nomu in that he is designed for agility and stealth. An invisibility quirk will not only make Raptor into the perfect phantom, it can also assist in infiltration and spying. While the quirk may be called ‘camouflage’ mainly due to how it changes skin pigmentation, it does much more than match the colors of the environment. It hides the user’s entire form as perfectly as any true invisibility quirk. Raptor should be more than capable of destroying targets without ever being noticed.

You were right. It was strange how he doesn’t discover these ‘quirks’ on his own. It was an understatement to say that he was a little lost when a Coat ordered him to activate his Camouflage. Raptor was prepared to feel those words bind his limbs and move him against his will. Whenever his brain was under the Coats’ control, he was capable of doing whatever they asked, even when he himself didn’t understand what they were asking for.

So it was worrying when he felt nothing. He heard the order loud and clear, yet it didn’t wrap around his brain like it always does. 

So it wasn’t just you. His mind no longer submitted to anyone’s commands. He would have chirped in celebration if he didn’t have an audience that was still waiting for him to follow through, giving looks and comments of impatience while he stood there. 

He can’t let them notice that he was unaffected. The words of the Mask that stole his touch repeated in his head along with the memories of cutting and burning, every nerve seething from raw pain until all feeling began to fade.

“If he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”

Alter...change...he doesn’t want them to change him. So Raptor tried to pretend, another thing that felt natural to him. 

The process of finding his new quirk was difficult to describe; it was more like willing himself to blend in until the rest of his body got the message. All of his muscles tightened, and he almost panicked when black skin began to disappear before his eyes. His wings, his tail, every part of him looked as if it was dissolving, but he can still move and feel the weight of each limb. Once his body relaxed, he was fully invisible. The Coats kept him pinned with their stares, however.

“Completely hidden. Very good,” one of them said, writing something down. They’re always watching, always taking notes on him, always judging. This all felt familiar as well. “Now, walk from that corner to there, and keep a hold on your quirk.”

There was no pull, no sudden fuzziness or loss of control. Nothing. It’s a strange feeling, following orders because he actually chooses to. It will take some getting used to, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. 

Has a monster like him ever acted before? It sure feels like it.

He performed several different tasks: running, climbing, flying, and shooting feathers. All while unseen by the naked eye. The feat even earned him a round of applause from the Coats.

“I can picture it already. He could slice apart an entire group of targets, and they wouldn’t even understand their deaths. A flurry of invisible blades!” One of them exclaimed with a smile that was way too wide given the subject matter.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get a taste of what this is capable of right now.”

Right on cue, the doors opened. Every feather on his wings and tail bristled instantly, ready to shred whatever possible threat that may enter. They wouldn’t be able to see him. It would be so easy, just like the Coats said.

But instead of another nomu that was simpler and more violent than him, a woman was shoved into the room hard enough to make her stumble forward and fall, the door slamming shut behind her. She was dressed like you, wearing only a thin blue shirt and pants. What did they bring someone like her in here for?

She was already back on her feet, scanning the area with wide eyes and shrunken pupils before moving her gaze to the humans that continued to observe from the other side. The fear in the air was so thick that Raptor could nearly taste it as she shook uncontrollably – he wondered if her knees would collapse from the trembling alone.

He was still camouflaged; she couldn’t see him at all. The urge to reveal himself is strong, but one: the Coats had yet to order him to deactivate his quirk, and two: knowing that she was in a room with a nomu will most definitely only terrify her more, so he stayed where he was, motionless and quiet.

For a suffocating minute, the only sound was her rapid breathing until one of the Coats finally spoke up.

“Kill her, Raptor.”

“What?” The woman’s voice was constricted by anxiety. She looked timidly at the man, who only stared back expectantly, waiting for something. “W-what?” She choked out again. She switched her attention to the door, still distressed and shaking. When no horrid beast entered the room like she expected, her panic increased even more, stuttering so badly that it was a challenge to discern what she was trying to say. “I-I-I w-I won’t...I’m s-so...p-p-please.” 

Her head whipped upwards to a vent in the ceiling. Nothing happened. The confused woman was now spinning around looking for something, hysterical with the knowledge that her impending doom was coming, but not knowing where or when. The weight of her dread was making him anxious.

The same Coat, however, only sighed in annoyance at the sight of the trapped panicking animal. “Don’t dawdle, Nomu.” The final word dripped with venom. It reminded him of his place: a puppet that should have no will of its own. Raptor didn’t want to kill, but if he defies them, then they will dig into his brain again, and the woman will probably be violently killed by a more enthusiastic nomu. He’s afraid of what they might take from him next. He can’t let that happen.

The shrinking woman is still whipping her head around in every direction as her bare feet take a step backwards, then another, completely unaware of the larger creature that stood right behind her. He can’t guarantee a painless death, but he can make it as quick as possible for her.

Raptor added an edge to some of his feathers, but reconsidered. That would require pinpoint accuracy, not worth the risk with a target that was moving so erratically.

His tongue curiously ran over the points of his teeth, checking their sharpness. No, that would leave too much of a mess.

His hands clenched into fists, and that’s when he practically heard the ding in his head. A simple method, but it should work just fine.

He was originally going to wait until she backed all the way into him, but that would be rather cruel. Killing her before she even recognizes the danger is a greater mercy. His hand struck with the swiftness of a snake, grabbing the back of her neck. The delicate spine could be felt beneath.

Raptor was not as strong as other nomu. That didn’t mean he couldn’t crush a human’s bones with little effort.

He felt her jolt, but that’s all she had time to do before the sickening snap and crunch sounded throughout the room, then she went limp with nothing more than a few final twitches.

Some of the Coats audibly gasped, while others clapped excitedly at the kill they couldn’t even see coming. From their perspective, an unsuspecting woman’s neck was suddenly crushed by an invisible force like an aluminum can.

One of them didn’t look very impressed. “Eh, a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”

“We’re not watching a bloodsport,” another one snapped. “Raptor is designed to handle matters quickly. A cervical fracture is fast and effective.”

“She was so terrible at her job. I think she deserved a terrible death in return,” another said. 

Their babbling continued while Raptor placed the body on the floor more gently than his audience would have liked. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in that moment of realization just a millisecond before death. Still, things could have been much worse for her. 

“I still think we should have used his harvester instead. She’s becoming a nuisance.”

Raptor has grown to really dislike that voice, the voice of the man that takes him away every morning. He always stares at him like an expensive possession that turned out to be a waste of money. It’s an effort to keep his lips from curling over his teeth whenever the bastard’s around.

An older lady spoke. “Her relationship with the nomu is unique and warrants its own set of experiments after we cover the basics here. We already told you that.”

“Yes yes, I know. But her sample this morning was pathetic. It’s like she’s forgotten her job, too busy turning our greatest achievement into a softie. Call me petty, but I’d get a good laugh out of watching her be devoured by the nomu that she’s decided to become friends with.”

Anger.

“You are petty, and short-sighted. Do you understand just how extraordinary this relationship is?”

Another Coat butted in. “Sure, but what use is sentiment to a nomu? This was supposed to be a cold lethal predator, not a child that likes to draw on walls. I agree that the bond with its harvester is holding it back. It would be better off without her.”

Raptor hates it. He doesn’t want any of them talking about you. To think that they’d consider something as twisted as offering you to him as a helpless prisoner to execute, just like the one whose spine he had just snapped.

How dare they.

The lady was suddenly staring right at him with a look of shock before her aged lips curled into a smirk. Actually, everyone was staring at him now, and they all showed varying levels of discomfort. That’s when he noticed that he can see his hands in front of him again, along with his feet, wings, and the rest of his body. His fury made him lose his hold on the Camouflage quirk. They had all just seen his face of hatred.

And yet the lady continued to smile. “I don’t believe he agrees with you two.”

She then whispered something, lips forming what looked like the word ‘magnificent’ while her eyes bore into him. Even his rage was nothing more than a fascinating process to be examined.

Raptor wants to get out of here.

x---x---x---x---x

You’re alright. You made it out. You were bruised, but you made it out.

That High-End nearly broke your fucking arm when it came. It was always a pretty rough one when you jerked it off but for god’s sake, why did it always have to squeeze you like a stress ball? Thankfully, your painful shriek of “STOP!” was enough to penetrate the horny shield over its brain and it released you.

It wasn’t your first injury, but it’s been a while since you’ve gotten such a scare. It could’ve been worse – it could always be much worse.

The fact that you feel elated when you reach Hawks’s room shows how close the two of you have gotten in less than a week. Two prisoners who agree that this place can go fuck itself; one was pumping cocks on the daily, the other failed miserably at being a ruthless monster. They ought to make a movie out of this.

You enter the room to see him resting in the center while several feathers carve into different areas of the walls and ceiling. His understanding of shapes was becoming more complex at a rapid rate, if the current drawings were anything to go by. They looked to be unintentionally abstract faces, varying greatly in size and structure, but one thing they all had in common was oversized eyes. Every face was furiously scratched in, the sound of chiseling surrounding you and adding to the ominous aura given off by the etchings that lacked skill but teemed with raw emotion. 

The scattered claw marks from yesterday are still as visible as ever. Everyday, this place looks more disturbing even with the not-so-hostile creature that occupies it.

Something prompts his feathers to stop abruptly and return to him, followed by him quickly standing up and hissing. The badly-timed hostility makes you jump back. “Raptor? What is it?” You tried to stay calm as usual.

He drew closer, eyes narrowed and teeth bared at the purplish welts on the arm that held your gazillionth jar. Oh, of course. You waved with you uninjured one. “It’s alright. One of the High Ends was being a little heavy-handed. It stings, but it’ll get better.” 

Hot air hits you when he releases a snort. While he studies the bruise, you continue to examine the newest artful additions. “So...what do all of these mean?” You ask.

He follows your traveling gaze and mutters. “Watching. They’re always watching.”

He said it so smoothly that it gave you chills. “You’re tripping up less on your words. That’s, uh, good.” When a grunt is his only response, you keep talking. “Are these the doctors?” He nodded. “Did you...have to kill again?”

A beat. Then he nods again, more slowly this time. “It was easier.” 

You’re not sure what to say to that, deciding to instead rest a hand on his arm. For some reason, what he said didn’t scare you. It was you who asked him to act more like a nomu, anyway.

You both stayed like that for a few minutes, standing side-by-side in the middle of the room’s crude composition that illustrated his short life. Innocence, rage, and now a feeling of powerlessness. You can relate; your progress here was very similar except that the ‘innocence’ part can be replaced with ‘grief’, having lost contact with everything you were familiar with. 

“You know, maybe I can add my own additions to this sometime, if you don’t mind. Make this place our own little mural.” You giggle when his tail swings at the proposal. “There’s no way they haven’t noticed how odd of a duo we are by now. I wonder how those assholes feel about all of this.”

You’re grabbed and pulled into him so quickly that the jar slips out of your grip, rolling away as you’re pushed into a hard black chest. The tight embrace squeezes your swollen arm painfully. “Shit, that hurts!”

He whines apologetically and loosens his hold. Pain and lack of oxygen aside, it’s oddly comforting. You haven’t been hugged in ages, and here you were being held by this. A song of soft coos calm you, but there is a noticeable sad tone to them. You look up at him, chin resting on his pecs. “Raptor, I know it sucks here, and I don’t really know what to say to make things better, but I’ll keep trying to hang out with you for as long as I can, alright?” You reassure him while rubbing his chest. “Remember, you’re kind of the best thing that ever happened to this place. Not that my standards in this shithole are very high – they’re actually lower than a regular nomu’s sex drive – but it’s still an achievement you should be proud of.”

Your words did their job, if his lighter hums are anything to go by. His comforting heat was gone too soon when he gently pushed you back, following up with a press of lips against yours.

There’s no more clumsiness in his movements. He switched from light brushes that had you craving more to deep smooches that took your breath away. There wasn’t much else you could do except follow his lead. The teasing licks against your lips never fail to get you going, and he probably knows that by now. Unfortunately, you had to break apart for a breather, allowing him to cradle you as he waited.

“Who the hell have you been kissing while I’m not around to learn so fast?” You joked.

You didn’t expect him to look away and hesitate to answer before uttering, “I...remembered.”

If he was expecting that to upset you, it didn’t. You can’t stop his brain from working, and he no longer automatically gives in to any demands. You still don’t know what’s up with that. “Right,” you sighed. “Are you remembering anything else?”

“No...same things. Hawks...fire...death...I want to forget.” He pulls you in again, this time taking care not to add too much pressure to your bruises. His strangled attempts at speech have become smoother over the days, but hearing the winged hero beneath the layers of grotesque sounds that create his voice is going to take a long time to get used to. “Can...you...make me forget?”

A twinge of sadness and pity. Are his final moments the only parts that keep playing in his head, in a cruel loop? You direct all of your strength into your voice and speak. “Forget about it. Forget about Hawks and all of those foggy memories.”

He sits there and blinks with no clear sign that your words had any effect. 

Then he wilts and groans in defeat.

“No good, huh?” You shrug. You truly did wish you could help him. “There’s not much else I can do, sorry.” A pause. “Must feel like nightmares, I guess. I get plenty of those.” You rest in his hold while recalling some of the fears that manifest in your sleep. “Dreams about what they’ll do when they don’t need me anymore. I never had the guts to put myself out of my misery – don’t have many options to work with anyway. Maybe I can ask a nomu to chomp my head off.”

“No.” The word was growled out, felt all around you like a small quake. You quickly try to calm him by raising your uninjured arm to hold and caress his face. You know that he couldn’t exactly feel it anymore, but the memory of your touch is probably what still managed to soothe him. It was an intimate image, touching him so lovingly while in his arms.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stick around. We can make things easier for each other.” Without a second thought, you straighten up and begin pushing down your pants, Hawks already chirping in excitement and fumbling with your shirt, his talons ripping the cloth. You were naked in front of him once again, and the memories of yesterday already have your pussy lubricating itself in preparation. Samples...semen….you weren’t thinking about any of that. You just wanted him again.

“Let’s help each other forget.”

And just like that, you were devoured. His mouth was everywhere and you happily took it all. You were addicted to his touch as much as he was addicted to your flavor. The dark blue tongue moved gracefully across your face, the small grin and lidded eyes telling you that he quite enjoyed the sight of you covered in his saliva. You opened your mouth wide as an invitation that he gladly took, the strong muscle charging straight into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag and has tears pricking at your eyes, yet you continue to throb between your legs.

He fucks your mouth so fast and roughly that you’re forced to only breathe through your nose. You’re clinging onto him as you gurgle around the ravaging muscle, your nails unable to pierce his tough hide no matter how hard you grip.

Something solid rubs right against your sex, grazing your clit and leaving you moaning into his mouth. His hips were bucking into the air with a very prominent tent that constricted his growing cock.

It’s the first time a nomu’s dick actually touches you there. 

And it makes your walls clench.

You get closer for more friction, trying to grind against the massive erection while he finally removes his tongue from your mouth. That’s when he notices just how hard you’re trying to get off on his bulge.

Heat is rushing to your face at his puzzled expression. “You-” You gasp, still catching your breath after having him squirm down your throat for so long. “You feel pretty good.”

He simply watches you continue to rub against him – you don’t even notice that his hips are no longer moving, you just press closer to him and grind harder in desperation. His wings flutter and the rest of his body shakes lightly, his breaths coming out in short huffs.

He was laughing.

The look of amusement is so unexpected that it has your hips stopping out of embarrassment. And here you thought nothing else could leave you flustered at this point. “You don’t have to laugh. Trust me, you’ve looked way more desperate than I have,” You tease him. 

He clicks his tongue, then with a yank and a loud rip, his shorts are in tatters and his cock springs free right onto your belly. Another short round of huffs are heard from him when you squeak in surprise. Just where did this attitude even come from?

Beads of precum ooze from his pointed head and drip onto your stomach. Maybe it’s your lust-tinted lenses, but his cock is looking much more attractive than usual. Its curved perfectly to hit all of the right spots, and those ridges probably feel amazing when moving inside you.

“Want more?”

The low-pitched voice right in your ear has you shaking, like it was a question from the Devil himself. Thirst aside, you don’t know what you should say. You trust that he won’t fuck you to shreds like the other High Ends would, but the biggest issue…

“I don’t know if I should risk that,” you murmur, a hand reaching to rub the textured flesh. “As tempting as it is right now.”

His confidence is replaced with disappointment. That is, until he immediately perks back up and grabs your hips.

“Wait what are yoooo-whoa!”  You’re being lifted off the floor, legs dangling uselessly as he holds you easily, your body hovering right over his twitching dick.

Panic begins to set in. “No! Nononono I said-”

“I won’t.” He says softly. As softly as he can with such a voice, at least. “Calm.”

Instead of penetrating like you feared, he lowers you until your flushed lips are resting on the length of his scaly shaft.  

And then, slowly, his hips push forward.

The bumps and creases slide against you in all of the right ways. “Oooh fuck.” You adjust yourself to ensure that he rubs your clit as well. The sensation has you shuddering in his hands as the pressure inside you builds quickly. Your slick makes his dick smoother after each thrust, and when Hawks sees that you’re comfortable and lost in the rhythm, he begins to speed up. 

Your legs are swinging madly at a complete loss on how to handle the electrifying friction, but the nomu grunts and takes hold of your thighs. They close around his cock, greatly increasing the pressure as he continued to fuck past your thighs. “Stay there.” The vibration from his deep raspy voice only arouses you more. His hips collide with yours after each buck.

As amazing as it feels, your hazy mind recalls that Hawks shouldn’t be able to properly revel in this outercourse. “I-I thought...you couldn’t feel this.” You say shakily.

Hawks is eyeing your bouncing form with great interest, his hips not missing a beat as he answered. “Can’t. Just watching.”

He presses down on you more, slowing down his pace with his eyes still locked on your face. His tongue quickly swipes across your forehead to taste the sweat that has mixed with his saliva. “You look good.”

Goddamn him.

You felt close, so close, but even as your limbs tingle from the pleasure, your orgasm remained out of reach. The most severe ache that had yet to be sated, to be given any attention, was inside you. You have never throbbed this much in your life, you didn’t even know that your muscles down there could even contract this tightly. The dragging of his cock against your drenched lips isn't enough. You don’t care about risk anymore. Not after feeling what he has to offer.

There’s no voice telling you how stupid you’re being right now. It already gave up on you.

Good.

“Haw–shit–Raptor, inside. I need you inside.” You beg between your moans. He stills completely, which has you whining and squirming even more.

“Inside?”

Hearing him say it sobers you up a bit, but not enough to kill your desire. “Just pull out before you cum, alright? Think you can do that?” You ask.

He nods eagerly, wings and tail moving with glee as he lifts you off of his dick that was already lubed up by your natural fluids. He angles himself until the head is pressing at your twitching entrance. 

You can’t tell if you’re trembling from excitement or fear. Probably both.

The fine tip already has you being stretched wide, burning and stinging in spite of your pussy’s preparation. It makes you wince and want to close your eyes – to create some distance between you and the pain – but your curiosity has you looking down to watch him enter you, inch by inch. You can once again see your stomach distend as it attempts to accommodate the large intrusion, much bigger than the slithery tongue that previously invaded it.

But it’s exactly what you craved, the unique texture feeling even more delicious when inside of you. Your toes curl and legs quiver from his girth; not as meaty as the other dicks that you’ve treated, just enough extra thickness to give you a stretch that you’ve never experienced, without causing serious harm.

He reaches the end of your cavern with a few more inches to spare, and the drawn out moan slipping past his lips surprises both of you. You try to relax around him while he fights the urge to move. Black shaky wings expand behind him.

“Feel…” He gasped and choked, one would think that he was trying to learn speech all over again. “Can feel...squeezing. So gooood.” The last word came out as a strong rasp against your face.

The new discovery has you smiling, one of your hands rubbing at a much larger one around your waist. “You can feel it? You feel how tight I am, Raptor? How badly I want you to stay inside me and never leave?” He may not be able to feel your heat or your dampness, but it looks like he can’t escape the pressure from a cunt’s death grip.

He twitches inside, making you jolt. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.

You scratch under his chin. Numb as he is, he still tilts his head like a pet dying for affection. “Then I want you to fuck me. Stop thinking, and just move...” You bring your face close to his, pulling off a seductive look and tone even when impaled on him. “...Just like a good nomu.”

Perhaps Hawks had a submissive kink when he was alive. It would explain why that riled him up so much that he was already slamming into you with absolutely no warning. 

It hurts. It hurts so fucking good. Every thrust tears a helpless cry out of your body. The scales grind against every nerve around your hole, while the ones deeper inside nudge your velvety walls as they move in and out, in and out.

You couldn’t talk between your screams, not with how violently he was pounding you. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and hung on for dear life with your face buried in the crook of his neck. His own muscular arms wrap around you in a deceptively loving embrace, pumping into you with a rhythmic smack smack smack.  All you can do is reap what you sow and take it. 

This wasn’t just for you, this was for Hawks as well. You gave him something that he could feel again. What began as whiny gasps for air soon became rolling growls that vocalize a need for more. 

Your orgasm barely sticks out of the continuous blinding pleasure as he plows harder through your spasms, your contracting muscles wrestling with the merciless cock to hold it inside. 

His tone is dark. Vicious. “Tight. So tight!”

It makes your greedy body want even more. “Oh, good job, Raptor. Such a good boy.” You praise him, feeling the brief falter in his movements. He really does like that. “Go ahead and take it all, as much as you need-ah. Don’t worry about me. Fuck me until I can’t think.”

The violent sex stops and you’re being ripped away from that wondrous cock in the blink of an eye. Before you can even question what’s happening, your world begins to spin until you’re suddenly on the floor. You’re getting adjusted onto your hands and knees right before being pierced again with a force that shoves you forward. 

Your thoughts struggle to keep up with the lightning-fast sequence of events, hindered even more by the warmth of the body hovering right over you. Hawks too was on all fours, though he looked much more comfortable and natural, wings fully spread out in a proud and dominant display as he throbbed inside of you. 

His hips snap forward, already at a rapid pace that rocks you with each hard impact and soon has you howling again. The floor was filled with uneven cracks and scratches that scraped your knees, not that the discomfort was easy to notice while you were being drilled into. As you latched onto one of his arms for support, you noticed right in front of you, was your first game of tic tac toe.

Drool dripped down from the snarling jaws above you and onto the innocent group of lines and shapes.

The mounting beast humped you with every ounce of energy he had. Your aching pussy couldn’t take it. Too hard...too big... you’re cumming again around his pistoning cock, moans melting into defeated sobs. The huge pair of swinging balls occasionally smacked right into your oversensitive clit. You were losing the will to hold yourself up, gripping his supportive arm more tightly while your thighs quivered. Even if you had the strength to, you had no plans to ask the feral savage to stop.

He currently wasn’t anything like the gentle experiment you’ve befriended in just a few days. Right now, with his head thrashing around and flinging spittle everywhere as he barked, and wings beating hard against the floor, he was terrifying. Powerful, hungry, and single-minded.

So this is what it’s like to give in to a nomu.

It’s scary.

It’s thrilling.

Every fast agonizing stroke right against your cervix takes your breath away, your mouth eventually just hanging open in an attempt to capture whatever oxygen it could into your lungs. Hawks curls into himself so that he can crane his neck and look at you, saliva flowing freely down his chin. Each breath came out as a throaty growl wafting against your sweaty face. He takes one look at your parted lips, and stuffs you with his tongue.

If your thoughts were more coherent at the moment, you’d wonder how the hell the muscle was strong enough to be able to move into your throat as hard as the dick that continued to wreck your insides. His hips assisted in gagging you even more with each thrust. The threat of asphyxiation only brought you closer to your next orgasm. 

Your mind was empty, save for the immoral thoughts that have long since driven off their more honorable competition. 

Just use me.

Your entire body was on fire, getting pummeled from both ends.

Just use me however the fuck you want.

Hawks is suddenly bombarding your cunt with short and speedy ruts of his hips, and that does it. Your limbs give out and leave you to plop onto the floor as your pleasure blooms all over. But his long tongue follows you, still pushing into your whimpering mouth to deprive you of much-needed air. He simply lowers himself and proceeds to fuck you hard into the ground, pressing your skin into his many carvings.

His tongue leaves...your eyes rolling back….

Hawks releases a horrid cry that sounds like both a roar and a bird-like shriek.

Exhaustion…

Hawks is too lost in the surprising sensations, dull but still intense, to realize that he’s shooting his thick load into your womb

Warmth...full...sleep.

x---x---x---x---x

“Get up.”

The voice is muffled as you slowly come to. Whatever you’re resting on doesn’t feel like your bed.

“I know you’re awake. Hurry and get up.”

You’re surrounded by warmth, by something breathing. Pain shoots through your back and legs when you stir. When you open your eyes, you see the golden eyes of a High End.

The fear does well in masking your aches as you scramble out of the arms of what turned out to be Hawks, who was lounging on his side like a giant cat.

And standing at the door, was the damned doctor that you had the privilege of seeing every day.

His stare looked even more judgmental than it usually did. Full-on disgusted, actually. Realizing that you’re still naked, you grab one of Hawks’s wings that were splayed out on the floor to shield yourself.

He simply shakes his head. “I’ve already seen enough. And heard enough.”

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

“I-I…” you stammer, panic rising in your chest as you’re unable to come up with any sort of explanation. You even turn to Hawks, like he’d somehow provide you with the answer.

“I normally don’t care what deplorable methods you people use to collect your samples, but going by the filth between your legs...” That prompts you to look down, and the second you do, you already feel a dense fluid oozing out of you and running down your legs that were stained with white. “...you actually allowed Raptor to inseminate you.”

His words, along with your accelerating heartbeat, thunders in your ears. Hawks is watching his seed leak from your raw pussy. He remains still and quiet, uncertain of how to act in the presence of a doctor.

“To think that someone would deliberately let a nomu breed them. I know that the two of you have gotten close,” His eyes skimmed past the many images and markings in the room. “But just how depraved do you have to be to go this far with a nomu?”

If this was before the days you allowed Hawks to touch you, you would have felt embarrassed. You are scared. Not only did he cum inside you, you’ve also been caught right after the act.

But any sort of shame?

You had the nerve to huff, still hiding your body from him not out of shyness, but because the asshole didn’t deserve the view. “I guess we’re all sick fucks around here,” you retort.

The glare on his glasses add to the intimidation factor of his glower. He takes a step forward and gives a quick tilt of his head. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me.”

Both you and Hawks are taken back. “For what?”

He scowls even harder. “Still asking questions? You’re lucky that you’re valuable right now. You have most likely been impregnated. This is an unexpected opportunity to observe one of Raptor’s offspring. We’ll be watching over you until the birth.”

You don’t move, still soaking in every word. This most definitely was a mistake. Not only are you going to be taken away from Hawks to be cooped up in a room with constant surveillance, you’re going to have a...fuck.

You feel the wing in your grasp vibrate softly, Hawks sensing your distress and attempting to silently reassure you.

“I said get dressed,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “Or are you still basking in the afterglow?” He snickered at his own joke before walking forward, ready to take you by force.

That’s when the nomu in the room finally stood up to step right in front of you, standing tall in all of his naked glory and easily towering over the man.

You had to give the guy credit for not looking phased by the very dangerous creature blocking his path. Then again, maybe he was just so sure that Hawks wouldn’t harm him in any way.

“Out of the way, Raptor.” Strong and firm. It’s the tone that ensures a nomu’s obedience, but you know by now that Hawks’s mind has grown beyond that.

As expected, Hawks doesn’t budge, still looking down with eyes of liquid gold.

The doctor only looks more annoyed, not afraid. “I knew you were defective,” he sneered. “Always hesitating during tests. Such wasted potential, yet the others insist on keeping you around. To do what? Decorate rooms? The idiots should have altered your brain by now.”

What? 

Hawks still didn’t move. The lack of reaction was beginning to get to the man’s nerves, his hands balling into fists as he contemplated what action to take next. You stayed mostly hidden behind Hawks, anxiously looking past his wings.

When he accepted that the nomu wasn’t going to move, and forcing his way past him was too dangerous of an option, he smirked. “Fine, then. You’re only making yourself look worse. I’m certain I can convince them to move forward with that operation after they see how defiant you’re being right now.”

No! You feel so damn useless. The bastard wanted to change him into something more compliant. How much would that change Hawks himself? You don’t know if there’s anything you can do that won’t just end with you being thrown into the lion’s den. 

The doctor placed two fingers to his temple. Fuck, his quirk. 

“Backup needed in South Hall, room five o’ ni-”

He stopped. Pure shock took over his face, words replaced with the faintest choked sounds. You truly considered asking if he was feeling alright.

Until a thin line of red appeared at his throat, blood oozing out, the bleeding getting heavier by the second.

“What. The. Fuck?”  Your breaths were becoming too short as you watched him crumple, the liquid crimson quickly pooling around him. “What the fuck is going on?”

The confusion and fear was making you delirious. God, you were going to pass out again, this is too fucking much, this asshole was about to take you away because you have a monster growing inside you and then he was going to turn Hawks into a regular High End but now he’s dead but who the fuck killed him and what’s about to happen to you-

“Calm.”

A large hand on your shoulder grounds you, steadying your breathing and expanding your tunnel vision. Hawks is in front of you, releasing soft coos.

“Wha–how–wha…” Your shaky lips are unable to form words, but he seems to understand. Something materializes right in front of you. Small, black, and sharp. It’s a feather, floating between the both of you. “What?” You finally spit out.

“Camouflage,” that’s all he says, as if that explains everything. Since when was he able t-

Whatever. There’s too much shit happening right now.

Still shaking, you look to see the doctor still bleeding, some of the blood flowing into the engravings and painting them red.

“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.

He nods, staring apathetically at the body.

“But, I thought you didn’t…” You trailed off, too stunned by everything that has happened to finish.

He turned his attention back to you, red irises – as red as the blood that continued flow – staring into your frightened eyes. “It gets easier.”

Once again,  you’re not sure what to say to that.

He looks to the door. “More coming soon.”

Right, whoever the doctor was contacting must be wondering why his telepathy was suddenly cut off.

“I want to leave.”

“Leave? Like, you want to escape?” Another nod. “That’s...I don’t know if that’s possible. There are villains around here. Strong villains. Shit, they might release some of the nomu on us!” 

“You want to stay?”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

“I’m strong, and fast.” His wings unfurl and sharpen every feather, his tail curling around you so that you can see the knifelike plumes on it. “Can heal very fast and blend in. Can do a lot.”

The display and simple explanation reminds you that you haven’t seen any of his combative skills firsthand. This is what they made him for.

Well then…

“Right, then how about we give them a final test?” Just when you were finally calming down, adrenaline is already being pumped back into your veins. “Let’s show them how unstoppable their latest work is.”

His little peep of agreement nearly ruined the moment, but it reminds you why you’ve grown so fond of him.

He turns around and crouches, motioning you to climb onto his back and wrap your arms around his neck. It was awkward, mostly due to the wings that you were squishing under you, but when you voiced your worries he just gave you an “It’s fine.” He warned you to hang on extra tightly whenever he gets low to the ground. He’s a much faster runner on all fours.

Stepping over the corpse that has bled dry, he stopped at the door and braced himself. 

“Ready?”

Your arms and legs were secured around him. You breathed in through your nose then out through your mouth. 

Breath in. Breathe out.

A lot of death and destruction is probably about to come your way.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It would be great if you never had to fill another jar ever again.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Your clammy skin hasn’t felt sunlight in fucking forever. Are the heroes even still alive out there?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You try not to think about what’s happening in your womb.

“I’m ready.”

The door is pushed open. 

x---x---x---x---x

Targets first spotted at 12:50

The old surveillance cameras flicker and lag. It makes noticing the running black figure all the more difficult. On most screens, you’ll see nothing more than a blur. There will be the occasional confrontation with villains, sometimes accompanied by researchers with incapacitation quirks. More often than not, the escapees easily outmaneuver them, crawling and leaping on every surface and zooming past their potential captors before they can even follow.

Some of the stronger villains and nomu slow the duo down only briefly before they collapse from an unseen force. The recovered bodies possessed deep cuts across major arteries or accurate punctures in their major organs.

Some footage shows the two sometimes climbing into vents, temporarily escaping the cameras.

The woman on the High End’s back was injured during the fatal showdown at the hospital’s exit, enraging it to the point where it swiftly killed everyone in its vicinity, including fleeing researchers that were only caught in the crossfire.

Targets escaped facility at 13:09

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED. NOMU IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION IN RETRIEVING IT.

Some things are too good to be true. It turned out that Raptor’s brain has, shall we say, faulty wiring. Several observations have noted him hesitating upon certain commands. This should not be a constant problem with any High End. I don’t understand why they did not immediately work on this issue. It’s possible that they feared irreversible changes to his unique mind.

I personally believe that many of these flaws are the result of a compassionate host. The hero Hawks was unmistakably a gifted combatant, probably the most gifted individual the facility has gotten their hands on, but his attitude did not translate well into the role of a nomu. On the bright side, I never thought I’d ever see nomu, let alone a High End, show such genuine fondness over a human. I believe it’s worth another try in the future.

But for now, we should stick to what works. There are more than enough lowly criminals to go around.

[goldenkirstein]

i wanna lay where you lay

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

pairing: miya osamu x fem! reader

wc: 1.6k+

cw: smut (18+ minors DNI), reader has female anatomy, nipple play, impact play, mentions of daddy kink, spit play, slight dumbification

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

smut under the cut

"Show me that pretty little princess cunt"

Osamu had never seen a better sight; he had you splayed out on the bed for him, legs spread wide, exposing your glistening center to him. As much as he wanted to touch you, he refrained, one of his hands worked up and down his cock, the other gripping the sheets under him.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before catching it between his teeth as he watched you place your hand between your trembling thighs, index and middle fingers spreading your lips apart, revealing your pulsating hole.

The view caused a suppressed groan to fall from his lips. Your tight hole looked so inviting, clenching and unclenching around nothing, weeping to be filled by his dick. He squeezed his fist around the base of his cock before continuing to pump his shaft.

“Samu need you so bad.” Your fingers were now circling your swollen clit, your other hand reaching across your chest to pinch your hardened nipples, eliciting a moan.

It didn’t matter how much you worked your fingers over your cunt; both you and Osamu knew that only his cock, his fingers, his tongue could get you close to the release you were chasing after.

“Keep playing with that pretty pussy doll, thought you were gonna be a good girl for me?” His honeyed voice filled the room, cutting through the whimpers you were letting out.

Tears began to line your waterline, threatening to spill; you didn’t know how much more you could take. Of course, you wanted to be good for Osamu, but it was cruel having him stroke his cock in front of you while you helplessly squirmed around, not even having permission to touch him.

“Please, I can’t; need your cock so bad, wanna feel good, wanna make you feel good.” Arching your back, you slipped two of your digits inside your needy hole, working them in and out, but to no avail. A slight sheen covered your body as you watched Osamu pump his cock to the pace at which you were fingering yourself.

“Fuck baby, you can’t say shit like that,” he let out another groan at your words, his fist twisting around the tip of his cock, which was an angry shade of red, leaking precum.

A sigh tumbled from your lips as Osamu climbed over to your frame on the bed. Taking the hand that was previously wrapped around his shaft, he grabbed on your wrist, pulling your fingers away from your pussy, making your face contort in displeasure.

Your fingers were slick with your juices, and he wasted no time in placing them in his mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as his tongue glided around your digits, savouring your taste. If you weren’t so needy, Osamu would have wanted nothing more but to dive his head between your quivering legs and lap up everything your sopping cunt had to offer.

He released your fingers with a pop, a slight smirk painting his face as his eyes fluttered open. You watched him with a glazed-over look, a few tears trailing down your cheeks. Bucking your hips, you tried to relieve the ache between your legs, but Osamu was quick to halt your movements, his hand releasing your wrist and coming down to grip your hips holding them down to the bed.

“You’re being mean, Samu.” Averting your gaze, you continued to squirm before you felt a sharp sting on your cheek. Biting back tears, you looked back at him, his eyes darkened with lust, boring holes into you.

“Fucking behave, only good girls get fucked. You want that, right?” Any other day and he could have entertained your brattiness, but he was also getting restless. He watched as you quickly nodded, your lips trembling.

“Nuh-uh baby, use your words.” He gripped your jaw with his free hand, waiting for your response.

“Yes, daddy, I’ll be good.” You felt him brush his cockhead against your clit, making you shudder.

He smiled at your words, dragging his thumb over your swollen lips, causing you to open your mouth, already anticipating what was about to come. A thick glob of spit escaped Osamu’s lips before landing on your tongue, gliding to the back of your throat. Using the same hand that slapped you, he applied a gentle pressure against your chin, causing you to shut your mouth. His eyes trailed over your throat, which bobbed as you swallowed.

“What do you say?” He moved his hand down to your tits and began to toy with nipples.

“Thank you, daddy.” You made sure to show him that you swallowed, smiling when he pressed his lips against yours.

“Atta, girl.” The praise sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but giggle. The sound that left your mouth quickly turned into a moan as you felt Osamu lean back and drag his cock between your folds.

“So fucking wet, hmm?” He sighed as he watched his cockhead collected the slick between your lips. He wouldn’t maintain his composure for long; he needed to feel you around him.

You subconsciously jerked them up, causing Osamu to let out a broken moan as his tip caught onto your entrance, already getting sucked in by your tight cunt.

“Oh, fuck, more Samu, need more.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you whimpered, his tip slipping past the tight ring of muscle, stretching your tiny hole out.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight, gonna let me fuck you real good, yeah?” He began to inch further in you, making you gasp and grab onto his bicep. His eyes were glued to the way his cock disappeared inside you. The feeling of your tight walls squeezing against him quickly becoming overwhelming

“Mm, fuck, look, baby, look how well your cunt takes me.” You followed Osamu’s eyes, and you watched him bottom out, making your mouth fall open, letting out a silent moan. His hands traced over your side before latching on your hips again as he began to move slowly. He glanced back up at you, looking for any discomfort in your features. Once he saw your mouth twitch into a small smile and an audible breath escape your lips, he quickened his pace.

You dug your nails into his arm as you felt his cock drag out of your walls. He pressed his forehead against yours, a hiss falling from his lips as your velvet walls sucked him back in.

“Feel so, ah-good; love your cock.” You arched your back, making him rut deeper in you, his cock teasing your sensitive spot.

Pressure began building in your abdomen as you felt Osamu snake his hand down, pressing his thumb against your sore clit, making you clench around him.

“Yeah, fuck, you like that, don’t you? Can feel you squeezing me, driving me crazy.” He quickened his pace, his thumb still applying pressure to your nub. He wasn’t going to last long like this, and judging by the way you were babbling, you were close too.

Spit was collecting at the side of your mouth, your mind hazy, the only thing grounding you the feeling of Osamu’s cock driving in and out of you. He moved one of his hands from your hips and brought them up to tap against your cheek, making you look back at him.

Your fucked-out expression only spurring him further. He removed his thumb from your clit, and used his hand to wrap your legs around his waist, his cock now hitting your sweet spot, sending ripples of pleasure down your body.

“Samu, aah, cum, ‘m gonna cum.” You dug your heels into his back as you sobbed out his name.

“Fuck, me too, gonna fill you up, princess.” He furrowed his brows; the sound of skin against skin filled the room, along with the lewd squelching of his cock against your cunt.

“Fill me up, daddy, please; want your cum so bad.” His muscles tensed as he slowed down, nearing his release. Bringing his hand back to your pussy, he pinched your clit while thrusting into you, making your legs twitch.

Your mouth fell open, emitting a silent scream as your legs squeezed his waist. Your legs trembled as everything around you faded to static noise, your orgasm overcoming every feeling in your body.

Osamu groaned as he felt you pulsate against him, still rutting into you through your climax. His release came soon as he stuttered into a stop, thick hot spurts of his load painted your walls white as you came down from your high.

He buried his head into your neck after he came, still sensitive. Sounds of ragged breathing filled the bedroom as both of you collected yourselves. Bringing your hands around his back, you felt him press a few kisses against your neck.

He was still sheathed inside you when he removed himself from the crook of your neck, sweat dripping down the side of his head as he looked at you.

“So fucking perfect, I love you,” Osamu let out a breathy laugh as he drank in your expression, eyes hooded and a lazy smile was gracing your features. He slowly pulled out from inside you, watching intently as his sticky cum dribbled out of your abused hole.

You groaned at the sudden emptiness but were soon met with Osamu’s hands surrounding your body, lifting you off the bed. Pressing your head against his chest, you hummed in contentment.

“You gotta go pee, babe. I’ll run you a bath after.” He pressed a loving kiss against your forehead, watching as your eyelids fluttered shut.

A smile painted your features as you nuzzled into his chest, mumbling out a small ‘I love you’ as he carried you into the bathroom.

a/n: my first time posting a smut fic lol that isnt hc !! i hope the smut sounded alright, this was very very self-indulgent i just love osamu. like a lot.

taglist: @clean-soap, @dai-tsukki-desu, @glittrkink, @amnxsia @kentos-kinfolk, @ally22042000, @jeansbabycake

click here for my taglist

as always, if you enjoyed, leave a like/reblog, i truly appreciate it <33

[peculiarpatches]

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙭 𝙁!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮

       This is my first time writing  a Dom&Sub GXG so please be nice to me. This involves smut. Dominate Harley, submissive reader. Slapping, spanking, dirty talk, oral, fingering. I just watched Birds of Prey and thought of this halfway through, so, lmao. I hope yall like it. And remember, feedback is appreciated so please give a ‘like’ and or reblog. It’d mean the world to me. Also, if you have any suggestions, just message me and I might write them! :) lots of love. xx

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Harley was trying, damn it. Give her some credit, cut her some slack.  Try as she may, the anger and jealousy only continued to bubble up, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down, it kept rising in the back of her throat, eager to come out and explode everywhere. That and it might be a bit of bile, too.... as gross as that may be, more than likely, yeah, it was a mixture of both. 

Harley had been drinking a lot of liquor as if the clear substance poured in the small glass shots were water rather than vodka. 

 Harley bit on her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood on the tip of her tongue. So, she continues. 

 Continues to drink until she feels every other emotion besides the bitterness feeling she was getting as she watched her best friend, (Y/N) on the dance floor.  (Y/N) and Harley were like two peas in a pod, inseparable those gals were. You'd never see Harley without (Y/N) by her side, the same way with (Y/N). They were attached  to each other like glue. 

Expect of course, right now, they were not. Harley sat, sulking, at one of the back booths of the club, eight empty glasses pushed aside, her hands holding up her face as she pouts and huffs to nobody other than herself.   

"I came here to have fun with her, not her to have fun without me," Harley whined, the pout on her face only growing bigger. Groaning, she facepalms  and shook her head from side to side, feeling frustrated tears starting to build in the corner of her eyes but she blinks them away before they could reveal themselves.  

 Her head snaps forward, so fast she swears she gets whiplash, when she hears (Y/N)'s laughter fill the air. Her laugh always caused goose bumps to bite at her skin and a chill to run up and down her back. Harley shivered as if she were cold but that was far from reality.

 In reality, Harley suddenly felt hot.  It felt as if she was on fire. 

Then she realizes, there's no use in trying to stop these feelings or try to push them away. They were bound to come out sooner or later.  (Y/N) was hers. Nobody else's.  End of story. The two have hooked up before, all of which the two were either really drunk and or had one too many pot brownies, but they have gotten together before.  

And as of right now, Harley was going to show (Y/N) just how better off she is with Harley by her side rather than some six feet muscular guy that (Y/N) was currently grinding up against. Harley growls as she stands up, trying her best not to fall as she exits out of the booth and pushes people out of the way before finding (Y/N).  "C'mon. We're leaving. Now." Harley barked, painted fingernails curling around (Y/N)'s wrist. "Well, hey there, good lookin', might I ask what you're doing, stealing away this beaut from me? If you're jealous, don't fret, love. There's more of me to go around. Sharing is caring, ain't that right, babydoll?" Harley's blood boils at the pet name he gives to (Y/N) and before she realizes it, her fist comes in contact with his face and her leg rises up as she kicks him in the groin.  "I said we're leaving." She spits.    

Taking (Y/N)'s hand, Harley drags her through the whispering crowd, half of the people laughing at how a man that tall and muscular so easily dropped to the floor with one swift movement, both from the hand and leg; others taking their phones out and snapping pictures of the scene.  Harley didn't care if people gave her glares as she walked past. Harley could care less.  She drags (Y/N) towards the back exit door, kicking it down as she then marches down to her apartment complex which wasn't even a foot away from the club. She's practically dragging (Y/N) behind her like a rag doll but she didn't care. All she cared about was showing (Y/N) who she belonged to. Once the door was open, Harley twirls around and bends forward, picking the girl up before walking inside  the small space that she called 'home'. It wasn't much but she loved it, regardless. Harley drops (Y/N) on the couch before crawling up and over her body, pinning her arms above her head.  During this whole 'meltdown' (if that's what you want to call it) (Y/N) remained quiet. As quiet as a church mouse. She didn't dare utter a single word, didn't dare say anything. She was either too drunk or too scared to speak.  "Babygirl," Harley's voice isn't soft and sweet, but sinister and cold. (Y/N)'s breath hitches and she shudders as Harley holds her face with the palm of her hand before backing her with it, earning a small gasp to spill out from (Y/N)'s lips.  

"You are in trouble, do you understand? You and your slutty fuckin' self. Who do you think you are, grinding against another man as if you want a cock when you already have a plastic one at home? Besides, is my tongue and fingers not cutting it out for you anymore, sweetheart?" Harley's  words were laced with malice and held as much venom as an Inland Taipan. 

"Don't you know who you belong to? You're mine. Always was, always will be. It's about time you realize that." Her voice is loud, booming, really, it causes (Y/N)'s ears to ring from how loud her best friend was being but all of it - the anger, the bottled up jealousy and affection exploding out of her - sent a shiver down her spine. It was also making her soaked, dripping with wetness. 

 "F-Fuck..." it's the first thing she's said all day and a bit of Harley is thankful the girl still knows how to speak, that she didn't totally scare her off with showing her dominate side.  "I'm really sorry, Harl-" "No." Harley cuts her off, pressing her fingertips to (Y/N)'s lips, smearing lipstick all over her fingers as she does so.  "You know what to call me." Harley stood up, crawling off of her best friend as she points to the couch. "Lay on your stomach, ass hanging in the air. You're getting a spanking." (Y/N) feels  warm and tingly all over and she's sure it's a combination of both being so turned on and drunk.  Either way, like a good girl, she follows orders. "Mistress..." Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper.  "I really am sorry." Her voice shook, as well as her body; every part of her was trembling and shaking. It wasn't out of fear, fuck no - she shook with nothing but excitement.    Harley shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she watches how horny - how desperate - (Y/N) was.  "Look at you, sprawled all out, legs separated, all for me to taste and to enjoy." Harley runs her hand over (Y/N)'s skirt, lifting the fabric up and touches the outside of her panties, loving the way the lace feels underneath the tips of her fingers. She was always a sucker for lace.  

Harley pulls her panties down, slowly peeling it off of her thighs and down to her ankles. Licking her lips, Harley smiles a seductive grin, her own wetness pooling inbetween her thighs.  (Y/N) was beautiful, without a doubt. 

More and more, each second of each passing day, Harley found herself falling more and more in love with the girl.  She loved everything about the girl. She could list off everything, tell all of it to (Y/N) but that'd take way too long and she felt as if time was running out and all Harley - really - wanted to do was taste (Y/N) on her tongue, in her mouth.  

Harley guides her fingers across (Y/N)'s ass, ghostly brushing along the skin before picking her hand up and slamming it down, earning a loud whimper and yelp to come from (Y/N)'s lips. "Fuck.... more, please, mistress, give me more. I've been so bad, such a naughty little thing, I deserve it. Please."    Harley grinned wickedly, giggling softly as she raises her hand again and lifts it back down. One slap followed another which followed another.  (Y/N) was begging for it and Harley fucking loved every single second of it.   "I know you deserve it because you're a slut, aren't you, princess? You're a filthy, dirty whore." Harley slams her hand onto (Y/N)'s ass again, rougher than the previous ones. 

 (Y/N) whimpers and pushes back up against Harley's hand, nodding eagerly. "Y-yes.... need to be punished. Please, punish me."  (Y/N) sobs, broken little cries falling from her mouth.  "That's just what you want, isn't it, baby?" Harley cooed, taking her hand off of (Y/N)'s bottom before reaching down and gazing her thumb over (Y/N)'s cute little clit.  

 "You want to be punished, don't you? Because you like it, right? Love it when I fuck you with a fake, plastic cock. Love the feeling of my fingers being buried deep inside your cunt. You love all of it - punishment or no punishment - because you're a fucking slut."  (Y/N)'s whines are - somehow - even louder than before and she's nodding rapidly, Harley giggles at the sight because her movements remind her of a bobblehead.  "Please," (Y/N) begged.  "Please, fuck me. Give it to me, nice and rough, just the way I like it. Show me who I belong to, Harley.... mistress, I meant... Mistress, please... I want it. I need it. I want your fingers, your tongue, anything, please." Harley knows by the sound of her voice, (Y/N) has tears in her eyes and she's willing to be fucked just by anything at this point.  "Filthy thing, you are." Harley murmurs, licking her lips before sinking to the floor. "Turn over, baby. Let's see how soaked you are."  Doing as she's told, (Y/N) rolls over and sits up, back against the cushions of the couch as she displays her pussy for Harley.  "Want Mistress to fuck you, huh? Fuck your tight little core until you're sore in the morning and can't walk without a limp? Want me to mark you up so everybody knows you're mine?"  All (Y/N) does is nod, far too flustered for words. "Say it. I want to hear you say it." Harley growled as her fingers shove their way inside (Y/N)'s eager and dripping wet cunt.  Moaning, (Y/N) nods as she throws her head back. "Mark me, Har. Make me your bitch. Fuck me like you hate me, please."   Harley smiles widely as she adds another finger, happily going to do exactly that.     "You're so tight, baby girl.... fucking dripping on my fingers." Harley cooed as she scissors her fingers back and forth, pushing and pulling, twisting and turning.  Before (Y/N) has any time to reply, or even say anything at all,  Harley's mouth is at her heat and (Y/N) groans at the sudden and unexpected gesture.  Harley hums, sending vibrations all over (Y/N)'s body. This causes her hips to jerk upward, moan after moan slipping out of her mouth. 

Harley swirls her tongue back and forth, inside and out, making sure her pussy wasn't going to go untouched. Every part of her womanhood,  she licked and sucked on.  Harley gazed up and a blush washes over her cheeks as she notices (Y/N) had already been looking down at her. 

 She was sparkling, loving the triumph at the mess she was making out of her dear and lovely best friend.  (Y/N) could feel that white and hot tension building in the pit of her stomach. Her entire body was broken out with goose bumps and she was shaking, trembling like a leaf. 

Her moans grew louder in volume, more high pitched, her nails dug into the cushion of the couch and as she closes her eyes, she's quick to reopen them due to the fact Harley had stopped what she was doing.  "Hey, I was enjoying myself-" "This is a punishment, remember, doll? Now, be a good girl and eat my pussy out. You were born to be my good pussy eater, weren't you? So, get to work. Get to pleasing me; your Mistress."  (Y/N) grunts, loving the foul language she spoke as she gets off the couch and falls to her knees, quick to put her mouth to good use.  Above her, Harley hummed in delight, slowly rocking her hips back and forth against (Y/N)'s warm and wet mouth. "There ya go... there's my good girl." Harley purred, lids fluttering close as she enjoys the way (Y/N)'s tongue feels against her clit.  

 Harley hadn't known how worked up she was until a few seconds pass and just as quickly as they started, she's spilling all her fluids and juices onto (Y/N)'s face, coating her skin with her cum.  "Fuck... 'm sorry about that, princess...... You just had me so worked up. Really, I've been thinkin about you all day. And I saw you with that guy and I just.... I got a little jealous, y'know?"  "No reason to be," (Y/N) replied, licking off the remains of Harley's orgasm off of her lips. "I was just havin' some fun. Besides, like you said, I'm yours. Always will be, always have been. Now, enough of this mushy chick flick moment, are you going to pound me and wreck me or not?"  Harley laughs and nods, taking (Y/N) up off of her feet and kisses her, not minding the taste of herself on her best friend - well, girlfriend's - lips.   "Let's go then, shall we?"  (Y/N) giggles loudly as Harley, as she had done before, lifts her up and carries her off to the bedroom.   "We're together now though, right?" "Yes, of course, dumbass."  "Just needed that confirmed."  "Of course, baby, I love you. I’m sorry I had such a hard time admitting that until today... Now, open that mouth up and let me choke you with this fake cock before I dick you down with it."

[sinner-as-saint]

Don’t Want You Like a Bestfriend

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Requested.

Run-through: You’re catching feelings for your best friend/friends-with-benefits, Ransom. But he doesn’t seem to like you like that at first. However, that quickly changes once he sees you attend a party as someone else’s date. And suddenly all he wants to do it get you out of the gorgeous and scandalous dress you’re wearing. Driven by his jealousy, Ransom gets territorial and things get interesting…

Themes: smut, jealous!ransom

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ransom hissed in your ear once he’s close enough.

You giggled, knowing damn well what exactly is pissing him off.

Ransom Drysdale was one of your best friends. And you and him were also involved in a ‘casual-healthy-sex-call-it-friends-with-benefits’ situation. It was going just fine in the beginning, but then you began catching feelings for the spoilt brat. He did too, but he wouldn’t admit it. And not knowing how to deal with the situation, you decided to just make him jealous and push his buttons until he realized that he liked you back as well. And that plan was going swimmingly for the past week or two now.

But tonight, you kicked it up a notch.

“What?” you asked softly, acting oblivious and you could see him clenching his jaw. He shamelessly eyed you from head to toe and he was immediately conflicted. You looked great. But he was convinced you’d look better if you were his date.

Why did he feel this way? “I mean what the hell are you wearing?” he asked again, as per usual, masking his jealously with anger and irritation. “You’re practically naked.” He spat.

Truth be told, the backless, skin tight, low cut red dress with a risqué slit you wore made him feel all sorts of ways. Not only because you were showing a lot more skin than most women present at the party, but also because you were causing every man to turn heads and check you out. And he didn’t lie about the naked part, you were aware that you were showing a lot of your body. A lot.

But you had done so purposely, got the dress mainly to get his attention. But also to get him to get him to take this dress off you as soon as he could. And judging by how bothered he looked, you knew you wouldn’t have to wait for too long.

You smirked. “I thought you liked me naked.” You teased, and Ransom seemed visibly troubled. He was horny and angry and jealous at the same time. He’s been feeling some type of ways about you lately, and he didn’t know why.

But tonight, seeing you in that god damn dress almost brought him to his knees the minute you walked in. But what bothered him the most was that you were here with another man. And he hated that.

“Yeah, but not when you’re strutting around almost naked in a room full of people.” His jealousy could clearly be seen now. “Besides why are you here with him? You knew I was coming too, why didn’t you come with me?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Oh! You giggled. “Why do you care?” you smirked and tried to walk away but he grabbed your arm. He didn’t care if he was making a scene. You should’ve come with him, as his date, right?

“Because I’m your best friend, not him.” he quickly studied your face, seeing that your lipstick wasn’t smudged or anything calmed him down a little. But just to be the little shit he is, he couldn’t help but ask, “Did you fool around with him before coming? Huh? Is that what’s going on?” he asked in a mocking tone.

He knew you’d say no. He knew he had ruined every other man for you, and no one would ever satisfy you like he did. And you knew that as well. But just to mess with him and his cockiness and arrogance, you smirked and replied, “I mean we did have some fun in the limo.” You shrugged, like it was the most natural thing to say.

Ransom’s grip tightened around your arm. “Yeah?” he stepped closer, nuzzling your cheek before he whispered in that deliciously seductive, low and raspy voice of his, “Do you need to be reminded who you belong to? Did you forget who owns your pretty little cunt?”

You tried not show that his voice and words made you tremble in his possessive grip. You pulled your face away from his a little and looked up into his deep blue eyes. There, you saw it. The hunger, and pent up frustration and the feelings he was trying so hard to keep secretive. You smirked again.

“Let go, Ransom. My date must be looking for me.” His eyes widened at your words and his grip loosened in surprise. You took the opportunity to pull your arm free and walk away, purposely swaying your hips more than usual.

Did you just… Ransom stood there in surprise and watched how you walked over to what’s his face and linked your arms with his and pressed your body against his side. Bastard seemed to enjoy it. Why wouldn’t he? You looked like a goddess.

 Throughout the party, Ransom kept his eyes on you. And how you pretended like he didn’t exist as you laughed and mingled with everyone else.

Oh babygirl… he thought about all those nights he made you his. Ransom looked around and chuckled. No one in this room knew about you and him. About how he often fucked you for hours on end, nailing you into the mattress and how wonderfully you had let him own your body and how deliciously you moaned and squirmed under him.

Fuck. Ransom looked down and saw a bulge forming in his pants. Then he looked back up at you, and you were still pretending he didn’t exist. Guess it’s time to teach you a lesson, babygirl…

 When the lights dimmed, and when most couples moved to the dance floor, you felt a large hand grab yours and tug you along rather harshly.

“Ransom! Let go!” you hissed, as you walked a little quicker to keep up with his pace. He was taking you towards the back.

“Shh babygirl, keep quiet.” He replied and kept walking, tugging you along until he reached a deserted corridor which led to some sort of balcony. And once there, he pushed you against the wall and his mouth was on yours before your brain could even register what was going on.

His mouth moved against yours fast and passionately. His kisses were much like him; hot and messy, leaving you breathless each time. He pushed his tongue past your lips and stroked the inside of your mouth. He moaned into your mouth as you pressed your body to his and slid your hands into his hair. His hands gripped your waist tightly, as though you’d disappear if he lets go.

“Think you can just walk around pretending I don’t exist, huh?” his kiss was messy and heated. Burning hot with desire and hunger, your bodies moved together flawlessly, touching one another just where you wanted to be touched. “You’re mine.” he growled against your lips, shoving his tongue into your open mouth again.

One minute you two were making out, and the next; your legs were wrapped around his waist, your dress bunched up at your waist while he held you up. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. Ransom needed to be in you already, all he wanted was to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your dripping wet entrance.

“Gotta remember baby, you belong to me.” He whispered and spread your legs further apart and pushed into you slowly. You tried to be as quiet as you could when he started moving against you gently, then sped up as he went. You held on to his shoulders for dear life, pushing your face into his neck to keep quiet.

His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratching at the back of his neck as he filled you up like always; making you whine and moan as he went. He was different today, rougher, and more possessive because he needed to let you know that you didn’t need anyone else. 

“Did he touch you like this?” he asked as he sped up into you. “Did he fuck you like this as well, huh?” 

“No...please...” you begged him for more. 

You felt all of him, the bumpy and the velvety skin of his length. He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time. He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust; it hurt just a little. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other.

“You’re mine, you get that? All mine,” he whispered against your lips, tugging on your bottom lip and making you shudder against him and the wall. He pounded into you; stretching you out. He growled in your ear. He stayed still for a moment, allowing himself to feel your walls clenching around his cock. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Fuck…” you whined, trying to make your words make sense. “I’m yours Ransom, all yours…”

He sped up, and fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

He nibbled at the skin beneath your ear and you lost all control you had left; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could. He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did. He growled again, biting down on your skin.

Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher and higher.

“Cum for me, cum all over my cock…” he breathed into your ear. You couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming. Walls clenching around him. Ransom’s thrusts became irregular and slower as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls; moaning when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him, both of you gasping for air.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did no matter where he took you. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.  

He caught his breath then pulled away to look at you. He gripped your jaw and kissed you deeply, reminding you again that you were his girl.  

You were gasping for air as well, but smirked still. “And is this how best friends act?” you sassed. Ransom pushed his semi erected cock back into you again, making you whine and clench around him again. The feeling of being full and stretched out was overwhelming.

“I don’t wanna be best friends. I wanna be more. And I want the world to know that you’re mine.” he whispered, nuzzling your cheek. “I like you, okay? I like you a lot. And I’m falling for you like crazy.”

You sighed and tightened your arms around him. “Took you long enough, huh?” you sassed still, voice trembling because his cock was snug inside you, throbbing against your walls.

“Shut up.” He chuckled and pulled away to look at you. “Now go dump that dumbass and let’s get out of here.”

[itssuppertim3]

Lean (Miraak x Reader):

Contemplating on writing for Pyramid Head every once in a while since I can't get the thick bastard off my mind but we'll see what the future brings

---------------------------------------------

"Do you like winter, Miraak?" I asked the man strolling quietly beside me. "Not necessarily. However, I remember a time when I did. My temple always felt a bit warmer-- more enjoyable during that time." I snorted at him in amusement, to which he wasn't fond of. "I just imagined you stringing up holiday decor." He merely scoffed in denial, though we both knew it was true.

While searching for another conversation topic, my foot slid against the mud beneath me. "Careful," Miraak warned as his hands clasped firmly around my shoulders. My breath was trapped in my throat from the sudden startle, but somehow he only made it worse. Once my voice came back to me, I said, "uh...-- yeah. Thank you." Damn, his hands were so warm. I could feel the heat emitting from them even through my armor. Alas, the soothing feeling dissappeared as soon as he retracted his arms.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already cracked your skull before I came along. It seems that you are always tripping and stumbling wherever you go." I scratched my cheek and chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, you know me so well."

"That is only because I stand witness to it," he uttered. We continued onward to Morthal in silence. A week ago, Jarl Idgrod sent me a letter of assistance; "potential murdurer on the loose," it had read. She noted that she wasn't one to fall victim to senseless gossip, but over the last several days she had been growing paranoid of the situation. Thus, she requested us to investigate. "I wonder why the jarl wants two dragonborn to take care of a killer instead of the guards? Gods, I feel like most of the soldiers are just using this pitiful war as an excuse to be lazy," I grumbled with my arms crossing.

"I agree. Though as far as I'm concerned, she wants you to handle it, not I." I perked up at his remark. "What do you mean? Everyone should know by now that you're just as powerful as I am. We've been traveling together for three months." Miraak diverted his gaze from me and pointed it straight ahead. "Perhaps, but you and I are still very different from one another. The people of Skyrim view you as a hero to be remembered for ages, whereas I will forever be remembered as a traitor-- if I was even remembered at all." The atmosphere around us suddenly became very dim. For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the mire sloshing under our boots.

"That's bullshit," I retorted finally. Miraak was taken aback by my sudden change of attitude. "Excuse my language, but it is. Look at all of the good you've done since we've been together! We took down a vampire lord for crying out loud! And yeah, we weren't thanked for it or anything--"

"Y/n."

"But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you put in a lot of effort to make the world safer, and I think that deserves respect."

"Y/n." By now, Miraak was no longer walking at my side. "What is it?" Before he was able to respond, the muddy ground had fallen loose beneath me and I plummeted into a brown socket of water. Oh yeah, I forgot that we were trudging through a swamp. The filth shot through my mouth and nose as I was completely sumberged. To make matters worse, the water was also incredibly frigid, making it even more difficult to sort through my panic. A pair of arms dove into the murk and proceeded to yank me up by my collar.

I gurgled, spluttered, and heaved strong breaths once I was dragged out of harm's way. Miraak shook his head at me all the while. I could practically feel the smirk hiding under his mask. "Oh, yeah. Real funny. Please continue... to remind me of how much... of a klutz I am," I rasped, still trying to flow air into my lungs. "I did try to warn you, you know. You were about to walk straight into the pond," the man defended. "Ok. I'll give you that." Miraak helped me to my feet after I finally regained my composure. "Oh, great," I sighed at the muck covering me head-to-toe. "I look so unprofessional." He skimmed over the grime coated over my outfit before scooping a clump of mud and smearing some over his robes. "I suppose we'll both have to look unprofessional, then." My cheeks tainted a dark pink at his actions, but I decided to blame it on the nip in the air.

My arms hugged my body when I started to shiver. Going for a dip in late autumn definitely wasn't the best of choices. Miraak scanned over the map and pinpointed our distance from Morthal. "We won't be able to arrive there before nightfall. We still have an hour left to go," he informed. I groaned to myself in reply. "Guess we'll have to make camp, then." He nodded, gesturing me to follow him.

In a matter of minutes, he had already secured a decent campfire and was now assembling the tent. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a nearby log with my bedroll enveloped around my trembling body. I was enjoying watching him, though. "I'd say you're a natural. When did you get so skilled at camping?" I inquired once he took a seat next to me. "By learning from you," he stated simply. Gods, how could he be such a jerk yet act so charming?! I avoided saying anything more and began scrubbing the dirt from my armor with a wet rag.

It was freezing, tonight. There was no comforting glow from the moon and stars due to the thick layer of clouds overhead, which only made it feel colder. I shuddered when a breeze travelled through the area and tormented my body. I was still wearing my undershirt and trousers, and even those were still damp. The cloth made my fingers sting the more I used it, until I felt Miraak's hand take ahold of my own. "Your fingers are red," were the only words that left his mouth before he grabbed my other hand and squeezed them both gently. I was so shocked by this that I couldn't even so much as blink. "Are you cold?" I had forgotten about the prickles climbing over my skin. "Um--uhh, kind of." How did my voice become so small?

Before I could protest, I was pulled closer to Miraak. And now that I left exposed, he felt even warmer than he did earlier. I wasn't even touching him! Not to mention how nice his hands felt. He was like a portable smelter! I stayed more silent than a moth as he continued to caress my fingers and palms. There was no telling what was going on inside of that brain of his.

"You may lean against me, if you like."

Oh.

Oh!

My heart was thrashing around inside of my chest. He wanted me to just... slide even closer and lean on him?! Just like that?! By now, my mind was spiraling in both confusion and embarrassment. Still, I was very cold. There wasn't any harm in doing it, right? He was the one who offered. I ultimately accepted his proposal.

It started off with our knees touching awkardly, and then with my head attempting to rest against his shoulder, which failed due to the golden scales protruding out from his sleeve and jabbing me in the side of the head. Miraak eventually lifted his arm, inviting me to scooch under it-- to which I did. As soon as I got situated, he let his hand ease onto my shoulder. I was so flustered that I could barely breathe. It was suffocating, practically unbearable, yet I only felt myself nestling further into him. "You're really warm," I mumbled.

Oh, dear.

Why on Nirn did I say that? I sounded like a pervert!!! What if he thought I was creepy?! My heart dropped as he held me still and turned to look at me. "Y/n, how do you feel?" It was made to be a question, but it sounded more of a demand. I sat tense for a long while, lips parted yet unmoving. "About...?" I gulped when he slowly placed my hand flat against his chest. I could feel his heart throbbing at a rapid pace, as was mine. "Me."

Miraak's voice was low and sounded on edge. Perhaps he was more nervous than I thought he was? My next movements were reckless. Recklessness seemed to be my only sense of courage, right now. I carefully drew his hand towards me and slipped off his glove. He didn't stop me, however his muscles twitched under my touch. I stared at his pale skin for a long while. It was decorated with veins and had a scar stretched over his knuckles. Thanks to the protection of his gloves, his fingernails were in prestine condition. In short, his hands were utterly glorious.

I tilted my face down and pressed my lips against his scar, leaving him breathless. "Does that answer your question?" I asked Miraak with a flushed grin. Without responding, he brushed his thumb over my cheek and felt the entirety of my features. His hand was so calloused and smoothe! I cupped my own against it, keeping it there for as long as possible. Once again, I was pulled into another embrace, this one being much tighter and affectionate. Neither of us decided to speak, and somehow it felt more befitting that way.

With my head resting against Miraak's chest, I could hear his heartbeat quite clearly. It was much slower compared to earlier, more soothing than anything. He wasn't very sure where to place his hands, so he kept one firm on my waist and the other rubbing my hair. Sure, my face was hotter than a bonfire and there was still panic fresh on my mind. Then again, I also felt so calm in his arms. This may have been the first time in my life where I actually felt normal. Everything around me simply fell into place. It was selfish of me to inwardly beg for this moment to never end. As a dragonborn, I had my responsibilites, but for now I kicked those responsibilities aside. I had the right to be selfish every now and then.

"Maybe I should go diving into swamps more often," I teased, breaking through the comfortbale silence. I felt my heart flutter in the midst of him vibrating a soft chuckle. "That would certainly be an entertaining idea. Though I might not get the same reaction from you each time." I peered up at my new love interest with a quirked brow. "What kind of reaction?" In one swift motion, Miraak nudged up his mask to his nose and blessed me with a kiss. It was quick and simple, hardly lingering over my lips in time for me to process it. It was as if I had just imagined it!

Even so, the blush stained on my cheeks was already spreading to my ears. This man was a complete menace. His mask was already tipped back down, but the coy smile he was holding was evident. "You bastard," I hissed. He only shrugged his shoulders at me. "If you fall into the swamp again, I may even give you another kiss," Miraak jested. I proceeded to whack his bicep.

------------------------

I bet Miraak got those plump ass lips :^3

[kylorengarbagedump]

Fuck the Police (NSFW)

Read on AO3.

Summary: It was unwise. But you couldn’t help yourself from spitting in the pretty cop’s fucking face.

Words: 2000

Warnings: dubious consent, inappropriate use of a weapon

Characters: Flip Zimmerman x Reader

A/N: I want to dedicate this fic to every single person who loves fucking fictional police officers who are played by Adam Driver.

(this is sloppier than usual, and more drabbley than usual, yes, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.)

Love y'all VERY much.

“Hey, come on. Let’s move it.”

You spun, face bumping the flannel chest of who you could only assume to be a plainclothes cop. Frowning, you put your hand on your hip, lowering your sign. He was hot--probably hotter than most or any of the cops you’d seen in this town, with his aqualine nose and pretty-moled face. But that didn’t make him any less repugnant to you.

“No way,” you replied. “What we’re doing is perfectly legal.”

“Sure, if you were on public property,” he said, “but you’re not. This is a privately-owned convenience store.”

You frowned. “The store’s owner donates to an organization that supports the Vietnam Wa--”

“Doesn’t matter. Private property. Get moving.” He tried to usher you forward.

“Hey!” You sneered, bucking off his gesture. “Watch it, officer.”

“It’s detective.”

Your friends laughed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever you say, detective.” He made to move you again, and you growled. “Don’t touch me. What’s your name and badge number?”

“Flip Zimmerman.” He rattled off a bunch of numbers--you couldn’t hear over your friends’ laughter. “Get moving.”

Your lip furled. “No!”

A flash of anger in his eye. It was dangerous. Stirred something along the length your spine. But you were undeterred. 

“You want to make this a game?” he said. “Go ahead. Try me.”

“Fuck off!”

Zimmerman snarled. “You think--”

It was unwise. But you couldn’t help yourself from spitting in the pretty cop’s fucking face.

The next moments happened in a flash. Detective Flip Zimmerman wrested you by the arm, big hand crushing your joint as he whipped you around and slammed you chest first against the nearest wall. You hollered in protest, curses flying from your mouth, your fellow demonstrators crying for him to let you go. In desperation, you wriggled, throwing your shoulders back, but he flattened his body along yours, his weight suffocating you. You swallowed, jerked back again, your ass driving into his crotch--Zimmerman grunted, and you could’ve sworn he rutted in return. 

Heat stoked you. No, there was no way this fucking pig was turning you on right now. But as you struggled, his breath quickened, his grip tightened, his body heavy over yours. A stupid, disgusting, horrible instinct ordered you to squirm, a tiny, near-silent whimper escaping your throat. He huffed, clicking one of the cuffs around your wrist. His chest was heaving.

“You’ll be okay!” called out one of your friends. “You’re a fighter, give him hell!”

Hell was certainly how you’d describe feeling a stiffening arousal at your backside. Or maybe hell was the hot, errant streak of lust that ripped through your thighs. 

“Fuck this!” you hissed. “Fuck the police!”

Zimmerman cuffed your other wrist, yanked you against him by the chain. Under his breath, ragged and furious, he muttered, “Shut the fuck up.”

A whine hitched. “Fuck you,” you replied, barely audible under the shouting of your friends.

He didn’t reply, shoving you off and leading you by the restraints down the sidewalk. You cast a glance behind you, watching as your friends jeered your arrest, wondering why your heart was knocking in your chest and between your legs. Zimmerman was big, fucking strong, his breath smelled like tobacco and he had a disgustingly sexy gentle curl to his lush, dark hair. The firmness of his hold on you made you want to fight him. 

It also made you want to fuck him. But you would fight that urge, too. 

You smirked. He was leading you around the corner, far from the protest. “Your car can’t be that far away, can it?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You laughed. “Fuck. You.”

Zimmerman paused, stalling you in your tracks. “You know what.” One huge step to the right, and he dragged you at his pace, forcing you to jog to keep up. He led you toward an alley. “Fine.”

In three long strides, you both disappeared into the corridor, shadowed in silence and secrecy. He was panting, now, as he shoved you into the brick and rolled his hips against your ass. Against your better judgement, you moaned--whatever he was packing, it was fucking huge. Zimmerman bruised your flesh as he grappled with your hips, finding the button for your pants with his thick fingers. He was still without words, the only sounds escaping him the excited desperation of desire.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, working your pants down your legs. “You fucking wanted this, huh.”

You bit your lip to trap a gasp. You wanted to say no. But the pulsing ache at your pussy was saying yes. Zimmerman grumbled to himself, his hand fumbling under your belly, crawling between your thighs. Writhing, you closed your eyes, hating that he would discover just how wet you’d become. 

“Fuck,” he said. “Knew you were a little slut. You types always are.”

You shivered. “Knew you were a rapist,” you replied. “Cops always are.”

Zimmerman’s other hand clapped over your mouth, and he stuffed two of his fingers between your teeth. “Shut the fuck up.” He teased your clit through your underwear with a single digit. “You’re dripping for me. Fuck.”

Whining, you couldn’t help the need to suck at his fingers--so you did, grinding your ass onto his hard, clothed cock. He choked on his own lust, hips pitching in an attempt to relieve his arousal. His hand left your cunt, and you heard the jingling of something behind you. You thought, at first, it was his belt--until you felt something hard and smooth and cool wedging between your legs.

You tried to object, but his fingers muffled any noise. He stepped back to angle you forward, bending you at the waist, the object pushing your panties to the side and nudging between the swelling lips of your slit. Heart skipping, you wailed, shaking your head, but Zimmerman jerked you in reprimand. As you felt a blunt end find your entrance, you knew, in an instant, what it was.

His baton.

Zimmerman grunted, pushed it in, and you groaned, deep and low, clenching around the cold, unforgiving wood. He chuckled to himself--you could practically feel his eyes watching the tight walls of your cunt grip it--and pulled it out, humming in satisfaction.

“Christ, you’re wet,” he said. “Too bad you haven’t earned my dick. Would probably love sinking it into this pussy.”

You moaned, for some reason nodding, even though you weren’t even sure what you were really agreeing with. The both of you seemed too enthralled by lust to care--he slid the baton in  again, stretching you deep, and you throbbed around it. Drool dribbled down your chin, coating his hand, spilling onto the ground. The sensation was enough to roll your eyes back, to spin your head with greed. Another thrust in with a lewd squelch, and Zimmerman snickered.

“You hear that?” he said. “You love it.” He fucked you faster, the wood sliding hot and easy into your needy cunt. “Fuck. Be quiet for me.”

Without another warning, he released your mouth, pushing you forward so your cheek met the brick. You groaned, hearing another jingle. Now this was his belt. Zimmerman kept his pace with the baton steady, the friction at your walls numbing your legs with bliss. Juices ran down your thighs, your muscles trembled from strain. And then you heard him curse under his breath as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the detective fisting his shaft, his cheeks red, his jaw slack, hand stroking in rhythm as your pussy swallowed his club. You snuffed a groan, your throat thick, the air thicker. He was entranced, hypnotized by the sight--he slowed, pulling out, watching your cunt fight to keep the weapon inside, and then plowed through, relishing the shock of pain that rippled through you. His breath was tattered with desire.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “Fuck, yes. You like that.”

Jaw shaking, you could do nothing but nod and gather every single ounce of strength you had to not howl in pleasure.

“This pussy likes getting fucked by anything.” He was spitting the words between his teeth. Pre-cum gleamed in the dim light of the alley, and he slicked it over his cock. “Doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” you whispered, which was really more of a squeal. “Yes, yes, it does.”

“That’s right.” His hair fell into his eyes, and a groan rumbled in his chest. “Shit, you look tight.” He plunged the baton faster, deeper, huffing. He snarled. “Fuck it.” 

A clatter on the concrete, two big hands snatched your hips. Seconds later, Zimmerman’s massive, throbbing cock split you open. A shuddering groan of disbelief fled his throat, and you screamed in the back of yours, eyes shut tight. One long stroke out, and he slammed back in, pounding your cunt with hard, furious thrusts. More drool rolled over your lips, this time from the heady rush of pleasure, the absolute perfection of how fucking thick his dick felt inside your pussy.

Zimmerman was possessed--every thrust earned a grunt from his chest, every smack of skin quaked your body with force to steal your breath. You whimpered, begging yourself not to whine. But then a finger found your clit, swirled it with a calloused pad, and you snapped. 

For a moment, you were boneless, but he held your hips, fucking so deep that he pierced your cervix. Sharp white pain melted into pleasure, and you pleaded, panted for more under the noise of your connecting flesh.

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s it. You wanna cum? You wanna cum on my dick?”

Sweat slipped down your nose. You nodded. “Yespleaseyespleaseyesplease--”

“Yeah, good.” His finger moved faster on your clit, his cock hammering you deep. “Good…”

You nodded, mouth open with the flood of euphoria--Zimmerman was muttering behind you, take it, take it, and you were, you were taking every single fat inch of his dick and it was rending you open and making you limp and emptying your brain of everything but the primal need to fucking cum.

“Fuck, Flip,” you said, because you weren’t sure what else to call him, “I’m--I’m--”

“Cum on me,” he growled. “Let that little pussy squeeze my cock.”

A harsh, fast rub of your clit, and you released, biting your lip so hard it bled. Euphoria wracked you, and you shook to your core, clamping over and over on his length. Zimmmerman groaned, working you through it, pistoning his hips as you spasmed around his shaft.

“Shit,” he hissed, “shit, shit, dammit--”

His voice hiccuped in his throat as your pussy pulled him into his climax, cock still buried inside, pumping you full of his cum. His fingers gouged your hips, his own rocking with the remnants of his orgasm, his shaft pulsing at your entrance as he spilled the last of his seed inside of you. Cursing, he heaved with latent anger, pulling out of your sore cunt. You felt his release leak onto your thighs.

A zip. A jingle of a buckle. He was still catching up on oxygen. “You on the pill?”

You swallowed, cheeks buzzing. You wanted to pull up your pants, but your hands were still cuffed. You felt utterly helpless and exposed.

“Um. Yeah,” you said. “I. Um. I am.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Good.” 

In silence, he popped the lock on your cuffs, and your arms were released. You yelped in relief, slumping against the wall, and he shuffled behind you, letting you straighten onto your feet.  You waited for your breath to even before you moved, blushing while you wiggled your pants above your thighs. When they were finally in place, you turned to face him, rebuttoning your waist.

But no one was there. The alleyway was empty. The air was cold. The baton was gone. 

And so was Detective Flip Zimmerman. 

[wienerbarnes]

Wet Dream

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek) (but also could prob be read as a stand alone oneshot)

Word Count: 4,326 (omg)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni pls sorry just wait til ur grown

A/N: yall someone call the horny police on me bc this.... made me blush 

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

Bucky hovers above you, panting into your neck. His lower back arches as he pumps in and out of you, his forearms on either side of your head holding himself up. Your arms are gripping his back tightly, your nails making crescent marks on his skin. Your ankles lock around his backside, squeezing tighter and tighter at each of his movements.

How did you end up in this position? You don’t think about it for too long when a wet and warm tongue licks a long stripe up your neck, touching your ear, before teeth give a gentle bite to your lobe.

You don’t even realize you’re making noise. Moans and groans and whimpers are escaping your mouth every second, each one punching Bucky straight in his groin. It makes him go faster, harder, his fists clenching in the sheets beside your head. He continues placing kisses and hard sucks to your neck as he lifts one hand from the bed, forcing his fingers into your mouth for a moment to wet them, before moving lower onto your clit.

You gasp and let out a yelp at the shock of pleasure. He’s so close and smells so good and feels so good, touching and kissing and thrusting and everything all at once is so overwhelming. Your eyes squeeze shut and it all becomes too much, especially with Bucky’s praises and moans in your ear as he can tell - and feel - how close you are.

It never comes, though.

You jolt awake and glance around to gauge your surroundings. Light peeks through the shades and Bucky is snoring soundly next to you. The blanket covers his waist and legs that you know are only clad in boxers, his naked back visible and moving slightly with his breathing. He’s laying on his stomach, arms comfortably resting beneath the pillow that lies under his head, completely unaware of the dream you’ve just had.

The two of you haven’t had sex yet.

It’s been so long since you’ve started dating! But, it’s just never happened. You’ve done virtually everything else with each other, but just never got to the sex part.

Does that bother him? While Bucky has had a complicated relationship with sex, as have you, both due to your pasts with HYDRA and being deprived of such things, Bucky has had a bit more time to reacquaint himself with women and the times. You, not so much.

Who were you supposed to have sex with; practice with? The only person who was ever in your life after HYDRA was Bucky.

After a few minutes of thinking, you realize that you’re completely comfortable and safe with Bucky; he respects you, he loves you, and he shows it all, too. Why haven’t you had sex with him?

Why has he never initiated it himself?

Bucky mumbles in his sleep, slowly waking up and bringing himself out of his dreams and you put your thoughts on pause for a moment.

When his eyes finally squint open and you look at him, all you can see is your dream. The thrusting. The moaning. The sweat. The twisted eyebrows in pleasure. You look away before you die of embarrassment and sit up on the side of the bed.

“Morning, sweetheart. How’d you sleep?” He asks, voice deep and rumbly from lack of use throughout the night.

“Uh - Good. I slept well. What about you?” You ask, still not looking at him. You stretch your limbs out and try to push back the dream to the very back of your mind.

“You okay? Why aren’t you looking at me?” Bucky avoids your question. Even after just waking up is he too observant for his own good.

You let out a breath and turn to look at him, “I’m okay. Just had a weird dream is all. Let’s make breakfast.” You reassure him, not completely lying, and leaning over the bed to share a morning-breath-filled kiss.

He accepts your answer and kisses you a second time, a quick peck, before you walk off to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

He doesn’t accept your behavior for long, though, when you avoid him the entire day. He thinks long and hard about anything he could’ve said or done to make you feel upset or uncomfortable. He thinks back to what you said this morning, how you had a weird dream. Was it that? Was it a nightmare? Did he do something in the dream to make you upset? He’s heard Sam talk about that in the past, how past girlfriends would wake up upset at him for something he did in a dream.

So, how can he fix what dream-him did in your dream, which he knows nothing about?

You’ve successfully avoided Bucky for most of the day. Your body is sore because, for some reason, you decided you’d spend your time avoiding him in the gym all day. You’re sure he’ll come to your room for dinner, though.

You thought avoiding him would help you get over your dream, that you would distract yourself until you forgot about it and it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

But the opposite happened.

It’s all you’ve thought about.

All you’ve thought about is Bucky on top of you, the sound of his breathy moans, the veins popping out of his arm and neck, the positions -

And now you have to face him after avoiding him all day.

You try to pretend like nothing’s different. You shower and change from your gym clothes, Bucky arriving at some point while you were in the bathroom. When you finish, you move to the kitchen and begin preparing some food for the two of you while Bucky showers, hoping the act of cooking will calm your brain for a bit. The two of you eat, the two of you clean up, and it’s when you’re drying the dishes Bucky washes that he brings it up.

“Did I do something?” He asks, not looking up from the sink.

A pang of guilt that you’ve made him think this way all because of your own embarrassment, “No, babe, why would you think that?” You ask him, continuing to dry the plates but looking at him, ignoring the heat that floods your chest and neck.

“We’ve just been really distanced from each other today. I wanted to make sure I didn’t -”

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” You blurt out, interrupting him.

Bucky pauses his hands on the plate in the sink. He slowly lifts a hand up to turn off the water and sets the plate down before looking at you. He sees your worried expression and is confused that this is what this was all about.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day because we haven’t had sex yet?”

“I’ve been avoiding you because I had a sex dream with you and it was really good and I thought avoiding you would make me feel less embarrassed about it but all it did was make me horny and more embarrassed!” You ramble out.

Bucky takes a second to process what you said before letting out a chuckle that he couldn’t hold back. All of this because the two of you haven’t had sex yet! That’s what the dream was about!

“Don’t laugh at me, Bucky, I’m already embarrassed enough as it is!”

“I’m not laughing at you, doll, I’m just - look. I was just trying to be a gentleman and wait it out a bit before we actually had sex; I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

“Wait it out for a year, Buck?”

“Okay, yeah, maybe I waited a little too long, but, I know just the thing I can do to fix it.”

You feel the heat consume your body again as you take in his words and their underlying meaning, unable to make a teasing remark to him back. He wipes his wet hands on a rag and turns to face you completely. He walks closer to you, gently backing you up until your back hits the kitchen counter. In a swift motion, his hands grip at your waist and effortlessly lift you up onto the counter as though you’re light as a feather.

You feel butterflies not only in your stomach but all over your body as his hands lower to your hips and tug you close to the edge. You place your hands on his shoulders, suddenly nervous like you’re a virgin again.

You’ve had sex before, but it’s been a while. A long while.

To rid the nerves, you kiss Bucky; while he’s kind of the source of your anxiety at the moment, he’s also always the one that eases it.

If possible, he pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms completely around you, hands on your back as your own wrap around his neck. You open your mouth to allow his tongue to enter yours, licking and sucking and kissing your mouth.

He kisses your lips over and over again, slipping his tongue into your mouth periodically to tease your own tongue, teeth nipping at your lips as he pulls away. He trails kisses to your ear, sucking your lobe into his mouth for a moment and you’re taken back to your dream, a breathy moan escaping you.

He grips you harder and continues his kisses down your neck, sucking love bites into the crook. A hand trails up and gently pulls down the thin strap of your shirt, letting him plant kisses on the top of your shoulder. You close your eyes and try to contain yourself, cradling his head and scratching your fingers through his hair.

“This okay?” He mumbles into your chest, fingers teasing at the neckline of your shirt.

“Mhmm,” You whimper, encouraging him to keep going.

He pulls a little more to free your breast from your top, and tugging again to free the other one, lips attaching and going back forth to leave kisses everywhere. You shudder as his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking and licking at it gently before switching to the other one.

Your mouth feels dry suddenly. A voice in the back of your head tells you to Do something! Don’t just let him do all the work! Make him feel good too!

But how? You find the strength among his love to reach a hand to touch his belly, trailing down to the drawstring on his joggers, untying the bow. You’ve touched Bucky before, made him feel good with both your hands and your mouth, but it feels like you’re doing it for the first time all over again.

He’s hard in his underwear and you palm him through the fabric under his pants. You hear a rumble come from his throat as his lips kiss back up your neck, pecking you on the lips a few more times before pulling back.

Your hand is still in his pants when he takes his shirt off, moving to take yours off too, your hand being removed for only a moment. He stops you from going back in and instead lifts you up from the counter, hands supporting you under your bum, walking you over to the bed.

He playfully throws you down onto the bed and you bounce, a giggle escaping you as he jumps on top of you, lips attaching to your neck again, but this time his hands find your sides, wiggling his fingers around to tickle you.

“Bucky, stop!” You laugh out, any nerves you had from before vanishing as Bucky reminds you just how much of a goof he is. He continues to tickle you under your arms and around your sides in order to keep enjoying the sound of your giggles.

You reach your arm around and throw a smack on his butt, making him finally stop.

“Did you just spank me?”

“Did you like it?”

He laughs and crawls on top of you again, caging you in between his arms and leaning in to kiss you on the mouth. You don’t notice one of the arms next to your head reach down and land a hard slap on your butt cheek, making you break the kiss and gasp. The slap was quick and the sting lingers a bit, but feels good, like stretching a sore muscle just right.

“You spanked me.” You tell him.

“Did you like it?” He whispers back to you, face still close, repeating your previous words.

You smile at him teasingly before kissing him again, his hand now trailing from your knee up to where he spanked you, rubbing and soothing the sting before trailing back down your thigh. He hooks his hand under your knee and brings it higher and pushes it out, spreading your legs open for him.

He moves down your body, spreading kisses around your chest again, before moving down your belly and to the waistband of your leggings. He pulls them, along with your underwear, down your legs, leaving you only in a pair of mismatched socks.

He removes those, too, starting at your baby-blue-painted toes, planting open-mouthed kisses. To your ankle, up your shin, on your knee, to the inside of your tattooed thigh, and then he switches to the other leg and repeats.

You feel like a fountain with all the teasing and touching and kissing. He hooks his arms around either thigh, hands grabbing your hips, and he pulls you forward a bit, bringing you closer to his mouth while also straightening out your back.

You sigh as he kisses around your lips and the fold where your legs meet your pelvis, so close to where you want him, but still so far away.

Suddenly, he flattens his tongue and gives a long lick from your hole to your clit, mixing his saliva with your juices. You let out a long moan at the feeling of some sort of relief, as he focuses his tongue on your clit, moving his tongue rapidly around the nerves.

He licks and licks and licks, causing you to drip, the mixture of his spit and you slowly slipping down the creases of your folds. It doesn’t drip onto the bed sheet, though, because Bucky pulls away only for a second to lap up the juices, dragging a long stripe from around your lips, over your hole, and back up to your clit again.

He repeats this motions, drawing different letters, numbers and shapes around your pussy, making sure to add as much spit as he can to make you as wet as possible. He sucks softly at your clit to tease before going back to fast licks.

You’re not sure if it’s from all the build-up of tonight or the thoughts about your dream, but you already feel yourself growing close, your hole clenching around nothing. Bucky senses this, giving you something to clench around, as he puckers his lips to let some saliva pool at your opening, letting it drool out of his mouth before gathering at your entrance, before slowly pushing a metal finger inside. He then continues his licking from before and pairs it with the gentle pumping of his finger.

The combination becomes too much for you in that moment, and you let go, unable to hold it in. Your thighs shiver and close a bit around his head as your orgasm finally floods through you. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling on it as he doesn’t let up on his movements at all, carrying you through your pleasure and fueled by your moans.

“Mmm, Bucky,” You moan out, wanting to call his attention to you, but he takes you moaning his name as a moan of pleasure, and adds a second finger to your heat, gently sucking on your clit.

You gasp harshly, too sensitive for his mouth, and grip his hair and tug hard. He groans deeply into you before following your lead and meeting you face to face. Now that you see him closer, his face is drenched in you. He licks his lips while looking into your eyes, his pupils dilated beyond belief. After a pause from being yanked up, he continues the pumping of his fingers inside you, thrusting them just a little deeper each time, curving them in an upwards motion.

“Wanna feel you,” You mumble out, reaching down into his pants and taking him in your hand, already at the point of being unable to form complete sentences.

His eyes close a bit as you continue to pump him, using the pre-cum that’s leaked out to spread along his length. He pulls his slick fingers out and moves them to rub over your clit. You speed up, running your thumb over the head periodically, and Bucky bites down on his lip, seemingly trying not to blow his load so early.

He grabs your hand, stopping your movements and his own, and sits back to pull off his own joggers and boxers, not missing the wet spot on the latter. He returns to his kneeling position and leans back to grab a hold of your legs. He takes a moment for himself to just stare and take you in. Laid out naked before him, panting, sweating, your juices leaking out of your hole after he’s just made you cum, eyes staring at him like he’s just given you the world. He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen - and you are.

Trusting him with this and letting him see you and touch you while you’re so vulnerable is a gift.

He smiles down at you and reaches for his bag he brought in earlier with all of his stuff, looking for a condom he knows - or hopes - he has in there.

He thanks every God he can think of when he finds it quickly and tears it open before rolling it on himself.

“Are you okay? Are you ready?” He asks you sweetly, despite the filth going through his mind staring at your naked body.

You nod, smiling up at him, “I’m okay, I’m ready.” You tell him.

“Goody.” He tells you, with a smile on his face. He won’t lie, he’s excited like he’s a virgin in the 30’s all over again, getting lucky enough to get his rocks off with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

He lines himself up and rubs himself up and down through your juices, nudging your clit each time he moves up, making you squirm.

He holds his dick at the base and slowly pushes, watching you stretch around him. His jaw drops as you engulf him, your humming filling the room. Your eyebrows twist together at the  slight sting of the stretch, but it quickly eases and is replaced with pleasure.

Once he’s completely inside you, he leans forward, kissing you softly and resting on his forearms. As filthy as his thoughts were a minute ago, this isn't just some fuck. You’re his girlfriend of over a year now and you’re trusting him with the job of pleasuring you, of loving you. Finally experiencing this feeling with you, all he wants is to be as close as possible to you, to kiss you, to hold you. So he does.

Keeping you caged in, he keeps his lips close to yours as he begins thrusting in and out of you. You two are breathing the same breath from how close you are and you can’t look away from each other's eyes. He gradually picks up the speed, pulling out a little more each time before pumping back in.

You feel so good. Warm and wet and tight, and just the fact that it’s you makes everything feel even better.

The harder and faster he goes, the tighter you hold onto him, both with your hands and feet. He feels the sting in his back from where your nails dig in and he can feel your ankles locked against his lower back and bum.

His own moans escape his mouth. He’s not usually loud in bed, but all of this feels so good, so much like nothing he’s ever felt before during sex.

All you feel is Bucky. Everywhere; against your lips, inside you, beneath your ankles, against his chest. You never knew sex was so good. It was fun, the times you’d had it as a teenager and occasionally in the Marines, but it never felt anything like this. Is it because Bucky’s just really experienced? Is it just because it’s Bucky?

He brings his knees a little higher on the bed, forcing your bum to angle a bit higher from how your legs are locked around him. He pounds into you a little harder than before, now, hitting completely different spots, and a loud moan escapes you before you can hold it in.

You really don’t want that reputation in the tower, but you really can’t hold it in. Moan after moan escapes you, growing in volume as much as you try to contain it.

As much love is going into this, Bucky is fucking you, hard. You’re so consumed by how good it all feels that you don’t even hear yourself begging in between moans and whimpers.

“Please, please, please…” You gasp, lips brushing against his from how close he is.

“Please, what, baby?” Bucky breathes back.

“Touch me.” You manage out.

He changes position a bit, this time scooping your legs into where his elbow folds, hitting you impossibly deep. Your hands immediately move from his shoulders to his forearms, a yelp coming from your mouth in shock at the new angle.

The slapping sounds of skin on skin fill the room as he pulls almost completely out before pushing back in. Yelps escape you as you try your hardest not to scream, eyes screwing shut.

“Ahhhhh, Bucky,” You moan loudly, the pressure building in your abdomen.

“You close, baby?”

“Mmm, yes, please, please make me cum,” You beg once more. You’ll never let yourself live down the begging thing.

Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together and he lets out a soft moan. Seems that the begging thing does something for him, too. He releases one of your legs in order to move to rub your clit. He licks at his fingers, a string of saliva following, and moves to touch you softly. He moves fast, but doesn’t rub too hard.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as you finally cum, feeling both the relief from the built up tension and the dream from last night. Bucky doesn’t stop as you’re cumming, wanting your pleasure to last as long as possible. You groan loudly as he just keeps going, the overstimulation making your legs shake, gripping onto his wrist, but not exactly pushing it away from your clit.

“I’m so close, baby.” He chokes before not being to hold back anymore and stuttering, cumming into the condom inside you. He lets out a long moan and shivers himself, finally removing his hand from your body to hold himself up on both arms, veins bulging out in the right one.

Once he catches his breath, he slowly pulls out of you, the empty feeling making you both whimper. He doesn’t move to take off the condom, though, and instead moves lower on the bed, hooking your thighs on top of his shoulders again.

“Bucky -” You try to stop him, surprised that he was planning on going down on you again after already doing so and making you cum.

“I know you had another one in you, doll, just make me happy and let me get another taste.” He teases, voice a lot deeper after his own orgasm.

You don’t have time to protest before he dives in again, licking and sucking at your pussy, not wasting any time in trying to get to you cum again.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, legs still shaking from the last orgasm, knowing it won’t take long for you to cum a third time. He grips your thighs tightly in his large hands, holding you close to his face. Wet sounds fill the room now as his mouth devours you, lapping and sucking at everything you give him, even moaning at your taste.

You can’t help but cum at the feeling, if not the feeling of Bucky moaning and whimpering while eating you because he wants to taste and feel you cum in his mouth, then the feeling of knowing Bucky’s main goal tonight is just to completely and utterly pleasure you in every sense of the word.

You hear a slurping sound as you gush a bit and Bucky takes it all in, continuing to lick until you have to push his head away, really not being able to take it anymore.

“Holy fuck,” You sigh out, exhausted, not even noticing the goofy smile on your boyfriend’s face, smiling at the fact that you physically had to push him away from eating you out too good.

Bucky finally removes himself completely from your body, standing to remove and throw out the condom and also bring a wet towel to clean you up a bit.

“Did that satisfy you, angel?” He teases, wiping in between your legs and cleaning the sweat from your legs and chest.

“I don’t know, I might have to sleep on it.” You pant, still trying to catch your breath, looking up at him to see his face still drenched in your juices.

“I’m more than happy to help you figure it out in the morning, then.”

He wipes himself off and  finally tosses the towel into your laundry bin and gets in bed with you, the two of you still above the covers because it’s still just a bit too hot to get cozy.

“I love you.” Bucky tells you, turning his head to the side to look at you.

“I love you, too.” You respond, wrapping your arms around his left one and bringing your body close to his, despite the heat in the room.

He kisses your forehead sweetly before kissing you on the lips, brushing his nose against yours afterwards.

Thank God you had that dream.

[cptnbvcks]

Okay but having The Talk™ with Mando about his big dick and he's insecure about it because he doesn't know that a big dick is what the people want and you're like??? It's what every space porn star would love to have

EHEHEHEH this ones for @disneydaddyevans​ thank you for the filthy ideas for this continuation but also thank u to @whenimaunicorn for the original prompt!

original prompt: din has a big dick and doesn’t know it 

nsfw. real nsfw. enjoy!

- the discussion begins after mando finishes fucking you spineless into the razor crest’s floor. 

- he was sweet at first; slow like you had asked, his fingers splayed over the soft curve of your torso as his thumb works your clit to make sure you stay nice and wet for him, but every time he drags his thumb over the little cluster of oversensitive nerve endings it only makes you tighten around him even harder. he has to push through every unforgiving squeeze, fuck you hard and deep rather than fast. he grinds into you and you swear you feel that right in your spine.

- mando thinks you’ve got the tightest little pussy he’s ever felt in his entire life — even if the number of pussies he’s had in his entire life isn’t… exactly the most impressive list. 

- it isn’t until after — when he leans his body into yours with his head on your breast and his cock wedged even deeper in your walls thanks to the extra press of his full weight on you — that you first bring the ‘issue’ to his attention. 

- you must have waited at least five restless minutes before you finally spoke, softly hesitant and a little bewildered: “are— are you still hard?” 

- he hesitates for a second, almost like he’s checking in with himself. gives a little thrust just to be sure and you gasp at the friction of it, “no,” he admits, a little unsure as to why you’d asked something like that, “i— i don’t think so?” 

- “by the maker,” you shiver out, giving a small testing squeeze of your walls and truly finding that his cock has filled you — there isn’t any room for you to tighten around him beyond this; it’s too snug of a fit. no wonder he had still felt unbelievably hard still. he tries to draw back and you hiss softly, grabbing his arm to stop him. he freezes immediately, fear touching his voice then. 

- “am i hurting you?” 

- he’s not; not really. you’re just not as wet as you had been when you got yourself in this situation. 

- “you’re just— really fucking big, mando,” you grunt out as he lifts his weight off of you slightly, your body half following his movements in thanks to the vice grip you’ve got on his cock. you think by the tickle of hair against your left shoulder that he’s probably tilted his head down to see where he’s nestled between your bodies. 

- “are you sure you’re not just—” his words break off into a shared groan between the two of you as your walls flutter to life around him, contracting tighter as he makes another small testing attempt to pull out, “— really tight?” 

- why is he downplaying what you can both feel between the two of you? 

- “thanks for the compliment,” you laugh breathlessly, “but it’s a little undeserved on my end.” 

- you’re half shaking when he finally does pull out of you and you know that you’re not the one with a size issue here when his cum gushes out of you, its exit previously hindered by how fucking perfectly he had been stuffed inside of you. 

- he’s a little grateful you can’t see the way his eyes are trained on the obscene image of your abused hole, blushed pink and smeared with his seed, fluttering against the emptiness he’s left, and he really wants to ignore the way his cock stirs back to life at the sight. how had all of that been held inside of you? 

- he feels a little guilty that he wants to fuck you again and there’s an unsureness about if you even want him to. something nags at him at the sight of you like this — at the insinuation’s you’re making, too. 

- “you would tell me if i hurt you, right? if— if it wasn’t good, for you—” 

- you’re stunned at his words; stunned enough that you could almost laugh at it but you don’t because there’s something so vulnerable about the way he says it. there’s genuine concern there; it’s shy and worried and —

- ah. you think, there it is. the insecurity you had prodded at earlier; the question he had dodged. 

- his words spoke to inexperience, not necessarily virgin but something akin to it. you must have hit the nerve of the issue with your alarmed questioning. it seems to you that he truly doesn’t know if his size is a good thing, and your words must have freaked him out because of his lack of an experience gauge to know where he stood. 

- “mando—” your voice is firm when you interrupt him. your movements are heavy with exhaustion but you collect yourself on your knees and reach for him. his hands are on you, guiding you without leading you anywhere you don’t want to go. you set your hands on his shoulders and apply enough pressure to get him to lay back. the movements are a little ungraceful without visual coordination, but he relents to you, “— did you not just see me cum so hard on that cock that i lost feeling in my right leg? or did you want to see me do it again — just to make sure you’re looking this time.” 

- as endearing as his insecurity and meek humility is, you want him to fuck you with full conviction. you want him to know that you could take it. that he never needed to be insecure with you.

- you can feel how hard he is already when you lower yourself against his lap and you bite your lip as you feel the hard length of him press between your cunt and his own stomach. he divides you there, splits the soft seam of your pussy against the underside of his cock as you slowly grind your clit into him. his hands are on your hips immediately, fingers digging into your hipbone and the soft curve of your backside as you hold his wrists for stability and hope he’s watching close because you’re about to show him just how good he is for you. 

- it’s an easy lesson and mando has always been a quick learner. you fuck yourself easy against his cock and the pressure of your body and the warmth of both your wetness and his cum mixing against his skin is enough to cement whatever this lesson is into his head. you take his right hand, brace yourself higher on his chest with your other hand, and guide his fingers to your cunt. 

- “feel me,” you coo, the word quiet and begging though you mean it to be authoritative and reassuring. you gasp soft when he eagerly presses his fingers into the swollen flesh of you. he doesn’t have to touch you to know you’re soaked; he can see the proof of it — feel it spread across his cock and dripping down to his balls. a small shaky smile appears on your lips as your spine straightens up the minute his finger brushes against your swollen clit. you squeeze his wrist. “do you feel that, mando?” 

- “wet enough,” you and him jointly say; your tone quiet and teaching, but his was entirely enthralled. 

- you nod and laugh breathlessly as he presses into your clit, eager to please for his own selfish enjoyment, but you snatch his hand away before he can get too carried off. 

- “get me wet like this and you’ll never have to worry about hurting me — not unless i want you to.” 

- you feel his cock jump against your inner thigh at that gentle insinuation and the corner of your lip quirks up a little at the thought of prying into your mandalorian’s shamefully hidden kinks. you store that thought away for later — another lesson for another time. 

- finally, you lift yourself properly onto your knees, giving yourself enough space as you blindly pat around his lower stomach until he gently catches your wrist — just as he had earlier that night — and guides your grasp where it needed to go. 

- you smile at him and he catches the tail end of the expression as you line him up at your entrance before sinking down onto him. he sees the smile falter but never fade and there’s a gentle concentration to your delicate features as you manage past the head of his cock before pausing, lifting yourself slightly before lowering down again, further this time. 

- he wants to guide you; pull you down and close the gap, but something tells him that this is the lesson you’re trying to show him — this torturous drag as he learns your body’s limits. 

- you don’t take him in one fell swoop. you work him into your body, and even though he can feel just how slick you are it still takes several push and pulls before your pussy is firmly planted around the base of his cock. by the time you finally sit back with your hands resting against his stomach, you’re both winded. 

- “just like that,” you moan out, your breasts jostling gently with every ragged breath you take. you squeeze around him once, twice, testing how much you can get away with as he tries his hardest not to buck up into you. “how you holding up down there, mando? you still with me?” 

- “y-yeah,” he stammers out, “still with you. are you okay?” 

- you push yourself down against his cock until he bumps hard into your cervix. your back arches deep at the splendid mix of pleasure and fullness and pain and him. everywhere. there’s no part of you that isn’t filled with him and you shudder as he groans something filthy beneath you. his cock twitches up inside of you and every muscle in his body threatens to go taut at your wet grip on him. 

- “does that feel okay to you?” you preen, slowly lifting yourself just a few inches before taking him back inside of you again. it’s easier this time; he slips through your walls without that initial resistance, and he etches the lesson into his brain. “feels— feels just about r-right to me,” you say. 

- he watches you as you pick up the speed; his back lifting off the ground just so he can reach down low enough and grab your ass, squeezing hard as he indirectly guides your hips down against him. you don’t miss the sneaky way he presses you down when you drop against his cock, holding you there for a second longer than you need to be before allowing you to lift yourself again. 

- it’s mando that cums first this time. his body going hard and rigid against the ship’s floor as he finally loses the restraint he had so obediently held, rutting his hips up against yours with a sharp urgent roughness to it. you don’t think he means to be rough, it might just be his nature of things; but you’re not complaining when he commands your hips in the expanse of his hands and pulls you down until he feels the swollen flesh of your pussy squish against his skin. he cums then, deep and forceful enough that you swear you feel even fuller than you had on his cock alone. 

- “fu-fuck—” your words are whiny and high and you clench down as much as you can granted how magnificently he has stretched you around him. you take his hand again, finding it in the dark and you press it firmly into your pelvis until you feel the pressure both from within you and outside of you at the same time. “so—so good— i can feel you, mando. i feel you.”  

- you feel the muscles along his stomach go completely tense under your fingertips as you catch yourself against him for stability. his hand stays pressed into your lower half and, maker, you wish you could see him. his cock jerks inside of you again and you blush at how indescribable the feeling of him cumming so hard while shafted so deep in your body is. 

- you know you’re close and you half intended to get yourself off after he had cum anyway, but he catches you by surprise when he presses his other hand against your lower back and sits up. you jump and pull your hips back slightly, the new position hitting you somewhere deeper and a little painful as he moves his hand that had been on your stomach down between your bodies.

- it doesn’t take much. you can’t hold out — not with the way he ducks his head and catches your nipple in that warm mouth of his that’s always mercilessly hidden behind that glimmering beskar helmet. not with the way his fingers dip into your folds and stroke your sore clit hard and quick. not with the way his softening cock is still stretching you wide open. 

- you scream when you cum this time; the force of it knocking the sound straight from your lungs as he locks his arm around your waist and drags you into his chest, letting you squirm in his grip without the fear of you bucking him out of you. 

- mando swears he could have cum again just from the way your walls squeeze viciously around him and the warm gush of your orgasm coating his length, allowing you to slip down on his cock just an inch or so more. your hips circle against him with a franticness, like your body has a mind of its own and a mission to milk his cock for all its worth. 

- he doesn’t stop touching your clit until your body goes soft and weak against him, collapsing completely into his chest as you kiss him everywhere your mouth can reach. they’re open mouthed and sloppy and you gasp against his skin as he slips his hand up the sweaty expanse of your back, cupping his fingers at the back of your neck. 

- he cradles you there as you come down, your pussy offering little squeezing aftershocks that make your skin raise in goosebumps. your hands wrap loosely around his sides and you press your fingers into the skin of his back. it’s intimate; more so with him still pressed home inside your inviting body. 

- “still with me?” he asks after a moment, tilting his head down to look at your still blindfolded eyes. his lips graze over your forehead and you hum at the small scratch of facial hair against your skin. 

- “no,” you murmur, “you’ve killed me and that cock of yours is the culprit.” 

- he chuckles and the sound vibrates straight through you. you press your fingers deeper against his skin, hold him tighter, and listen to the uninhibited sound of his laughter.

- “i guess i’ll take that compliment.” 

—

Tag List (i forgot yall like to know when there’s smut) 

@sophiria @imspillingcoffee @plumbuck @romqnofff @sexygaypalpatine @elisaa-shelby @readermia @the-dream-catch3r @pinkmoontribe-blog @madkingcrowley @whenimaunicorn @petalduck @fairylightsandchai  @osejn @mandowhoreian @letdecemberburninflames @chickens-are-velociraptors @naiomiwinchester @peregrinestook  @space-helen​ @virtuousburden​ @daddehhmando @thechampmylove @kiame-sama @knightheartcd @lustriix @deviantloving-detective @headsindreams @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @sgtbookybarnes @celestiaalbliss @coonflix @thetrappednerd @brooklymw @the-omni-princess @sav-a-nna @actuallyanita​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ @claynarwale​ @pedrolovebot​ @mermaid-seachelle @sasha1005 @cafescrema @otherthingsinhead @maia-hocane @thatoneemosithlord @whenimaunicorn

message me to be added or removed; let me know if you wanted to be added but i forgot to add you lmao

[writing-with-whiplash]

“Simple Moments”

“Simple Moments”

Hey guys! This is a fanfic of @jangofctts amazing clone oc Sweets! Go check out her awesome clone oc’s by searching for “sunburst squadron” on her blog and also check out all the other amazing fics she has! Sweets is her creation. I do not own his character, I’m just writing for him.

Sweets x Reader

Word count: 864

Warnings: nudity (not explicit), fluff, gender neutral reader 

Simple moments in a simple fic! I decided to keep this one short and sweet, as I’m still a little out of practice with writing. I didn’t want to risk overworking it, but you can’t improve without practice. Reblogs and comments are super appreciated! Let me know what you think!

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Rain poured down outside the hangar as you paced, waiting for the ships to arrive. One by one, Republic gunships lined up in their respective spots, dripping with rain and exhaustion. You rushed over as soon as the Sunburst Squadron’s ship landed, the ramp landing on the duracrete floor with a loud clang. This was the squad’s first shore leave in over a month and you didn’t want to waste a second of it. Your heart skipped a beat as he walked down the ramp with his shoulders slumped, your little sniper. 

“Sweets!” you called out breathlessly, heart pounding as you strode toward him. His helmet snapped to you when you called to him. 

Sweets’ shoulders straightened for a second before slumping again as you reached out to lightly grasp his arm. The two of you hadn’t been able to communicate much during missions, but from what you could gather in his short messages, the campaign had been brutal. It showed in his posture, how he leaned into your touch and ducked his head, and in his armor, adorned with new scuffs and carbon scoring. His chestplate shuddered with a ragged breath and he stepped even closer, leaning his forehead toward yours. You gently removed his white and electric teal helmet, meeting the dark, tired eyes of the soldier beneath. Sweets’ curly hair was mashed down against his scalp, plastered with sweat and dirt. How he could get so much dirt on his face while keeping his helmet on so much was beyond you. But he was absolutely filthy. And you let him know it. 

“Honey, you need a bath. You reek.” You ruffled his greasy hair, expecting a murmured cheeky response, but receiving only a sleepy nod. Your heart sank towards your stomach at the sight of him. Exhaustion radiated off him in waves, permeating your skin and nearly anchoring you to the floor. You knew he needed rest more than anything right now, something you were more than willing to provide with open arms and a warm heart. “You wanna go back to my place?” you whispered. Sweets nodded again, grasping your hand with his gloved one. He squeezed it lightly three times. I love you. 

The rain refused to let up on the walk back to your apartment, and by the time you got there you were drenched. The shivering pair of you clutched each other in the elevator up to your apartment. Sweets nuzzled his cheek to your forehead, eyes beginning to flutter closed as you pulled him inside your door. You peeled out of your wet clothes as Sweets stacked his freshly-rinsed armor on a towel. He was still pulling off his blacks as you stepped into the refresher, filling the tub with hot water and soothing bath salts. Sweets appeared silently behind you, towels and washrags in hand. He held your hand as you both helped each other into the tub. You let in a sharp inhale as the cold back of the tub met your skin, but the warm water  lapped at your sides as Sweets took his place between your outstretched legs, leaning his back against your chest. Wordlessly, you began running a washcloth lightly over his skin, wiping off days of grime and sweat. You heard Sweets’ breath hitch in his throat as you gently massaged his scalp. Pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder, you began shampooing his hair. Sweets let his head fall back against your chest, eyes closed and breathing evening out. 

“Sweets, baby, are you okay?” you murmured against his scalp, continuing to massage his wild locks. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’m just exhausted. Keep doing that, please,” Sweets whispered against your skin. As you worked he settled into you further, rubbing circles into your knee with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. His chest vibrated with a low hum as you pressed against him, leaving a trail of soft kisses down his neck. “I want to stay here forever,” he sighed, earning him a quiet chuckle and a kiss pressed to his ear. 

Eventually, the water cooled, forcing you to hop out of the tub with the sleepy sniper in tow. The two of you silently helped towel each other off, pressing soft kisses to one another’s skin. You guided Sweets to your bed, not bothering to dress at all, and pulled the blanket over him before snuggling up beside him. In an instant his arms were around your shoulders and his face was buried into your neck, breathing you in. Your legs wrapped around his as he sighed into you. You wished you could stay here forever, too. To keep him locked away with you in bed, safe and warm and in love. What you wouldn’t give for this to be your forever. It was the simple moments like this that were your favorite, just wrapped in each other’s arms as your heartbeats fell in sync, two hearts becoming one in the universe. As he drifted off to sleep in your arms, you traced slow patterns onto his shoulders with your fingertips. Before he completely nodded off, you tapped his shoulder lightly three times. I love you.  

[thewheezingwyvern]

ProHero!Shinsou x Female!Reader

Summary: You had been dating Shinsou for a while now but his hero work constantly kept the two of you apart. For the first time in weeks you two get to have your date night and Shinsou is feeling more than a bit mischievous. 

Rating: E (smut ahoy!)

Word Count: 6.3k

Kinks: Edging, Quirk Play, Teasing, Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Public fingering, Voice Kink, Dirty Talk

Notes: Banner edited by me! Image used from Unsplashed by this photographer. I hope you guys enjoy this! I worked really hard on it! >////<

Tagging: @joyousandverywarlike​ for beta reading this fic! You gave me a lot of help! This was based off a request that was sent by @arrestingaphine​ that got way ahead of me! @animewh0re​, @tomurasprincess​, @secondhand-trash​, @redbeanteax​

                                             𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 

The sun was crested on the distant horizon when the knock came at your door, bleeding over colors of red and orange, dissolving to a hazy pink as it sprawled out over the city. You had been eager for this night, practically oscillating with anticipation in your skin as your work week dragged on. A little too enthusiastically, you jerked your door open, feeling a bit breathless before you even saw him. But when your eyes fell on him, you felt your breath hitch in your chest.

Shinsou was already an attractive man; his work as a Pro hero into his early twenties had left him heavily defined. Power had always radiated from his form and muscles whenever you saw him. But today, his physique was even more heavily emphasized, a white button down clinging to him, accentuating his shoulders. The sleeves had been rolled up to just below the elbow, showcasing his forearms for you to drink in. His right hand held a jacket slung over his shoulder casually, dusting across his back and the hem of his dark jeans. Jeans that also showed his well-formed thighs. 

You eyed Shinsou appreciatively, slowly licking your lips at the thought of sinking your teeth into that later. Or the thought of him sinking his teeth into you. Indigo eyes swept over your own form, following the way the fabric of your dress clung to your curves. A quiet smile quirked at the corner of his mouth and you preened. You had spent a while trying to make sure you looked drop dead gorgeous for your date night. The first one in a long while.

“You look nice,” he told you, husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

Anytime he even spoke you could feel yourself grow weak. It didn’t seem to be a big stretch of the imagination to think that he could simply read a dictionary to you and your knees would still buckle. You couldn’t wait for that same voice to whisper dirty things to you later, a raspy growl vibrating against the shell of your ear. Lightly you shook your head as the fantasy tried to take root in your mind. You had the real thing in front of you, needed to enjoy it.

“I know,” you informed him with a grin, “I brought out the nice dress for you.”

“I can see.” Shinsou leveled a playful smirk at you. “Come here.”

He didn’t wait for you to move, instead he darted out a hand to yank you to him. It was swift and left your world spinning but his muscled arm clamped you against him, heat radiating through his shirt. You could feel the tantalizing tone that lay beneath his shirt, tempting you to touch, explore with your hands and mouth. But you never got the chance. Dipping his lavender head, the pro hero pressed a hot and needy kiss to your full mouth, a soft groan thrumming in the back of his throat.

“I’ve wanted to do that all fucking week,” he whispered to you when he pulled away.

The sound of his voice, his natural rasp mixed with simmering lust sent a bolt of heat lancing through you. Gooseflesh raised in its wake, pebbling your skin beneath his hand smoothing over your right shoulder. It was almost embarrassing how wet you already were from hearing him talk but damn did he have a sexy voice. Indigo eyes noted the goosebumps rising rapidly on your skin before leveling you with a smirk. Chuckling, he pressed his mouth to your ear.

“Do you like it when I whisper into your ear?”

Oh god. He was trying to ruin you and the two of you hadn’t even made it to dinner yet! Shivers raced down your spine, quaking through your bones and nerves in desire. Your face heated, as if a furnace had been lit behind it. Fuck, if he kept talking like that, you weren’t going to want to go to dinner! You gave him a playful shove, which did nothing to dislodge his hold on your waist.

“I like it when you feed me,” you told him with a laugh. “Come on, Shinsou, your girl is hungry!”

“It was a yes or no question,” he told you, squeezing you tightly against him. “Do you like it when I whisper into your ear?”

The last sentence was punctuated with a low rumble, a growl even, along with the cool nick of his teeth on the shell of your ear. The sensation earned him a low and quiet moan, your lips quivering softly with your own need. And that sound caused him to laugh, low and sensual into your ear. It was a filthy chuckle laced with promise, a promise sealed by his head dipping to press a hot, open mouthed kiss to your neck.

“Answer me, kitten.”

That pet name brought a whimper bubbling over to your lips. Fuck, it wasn’t fair when he talked like that. And it definitely wasn’t fair when he used that nickname. Or wore that stupid white button down shirt that emphasized every powerful muscle, etched into him. You swallowed thickly.

“Yes…” was your breathy reply, your skin still pebbled with gooseflesh.

To your disappointment, he pulled away. There was a gaping emptiness left on your waist where he had held you, his warm heat gone. But Shinsou took the time to level a wicked smirk at you, reveling in your dazed expression, desire pooling in your belly. He traced a knuckle along your jaw sensuously for a moment before taking your hand.

“Good. Are you ready to go?”

You nodded enthusiastically, ready for a hot meal and a night out with your boyfriend. The boyfriend that you barely got to spend any time with the past few weeks. Honestly there were days where it just felt like villains had a queue of people ready to appear and stir up trouble. And because of that, it was impossible to describe just how much you were aching for his touch. Any drop of intimacy you were starved for both sexually and romantically. Tonight was the first time in weeks you two had any time together.

The drive was around twenty minutes, reasonable for the city, but it only served to wind your anticipation and sexual frustration even tighter within you. Shinsou couldn’t whisper in that criminally seductive voice while he was driving, but his hand could trace maddening shapes along your leg. He seemed to be pleased by the hem of your dress riding up to reveal the smooth, freshly shaved skin for him, teasing his fingers dangerously close to your inner thigh. Shinsou chuckled when you squirmed, swatting his hand away with a whine.

“You’re impossible!”

“I figured you’d like it.”

You cast him a playful glare. The tone he spoke with said he knew exactly what he was doing and knew exactly what it would do to you. And there was not even a drop of remorse to be found for it. Despite him tormenting you, you couldn’t help but smile, gripping his hand in yours to lift it to your mouth and press a kiss on his knuckles.

“You know I missed you, Shinsou.”

His smirk softened into a smile, “I missed you too, kitten.”

“Think things will lighten up with the hero biz?”

“I hope so. We’ve all been run ragged lately. It’d be nice if it slowed down for just a bit.”

A wide smirk played across your lips, “just be careful and don’t throw out your hip again.”

“I got thrown from a building—” 

“Yeah and then threw out your hip.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Probably not. But I can pretend to think about it for you.”

Indigo eyes swiveled to the side to look at you before a smirk of his own appeared. You didn’t like the look of that smirk. Shinsou gave a low hum of thought, fingers back to tracing swirls on your skin. Tantalizing, teasing, it sent a fluttering up your nerves, your heart nearly skittering in your chest. Shaky breaths shuddered in your chest, his fingers drifting closer and closer to the cleft of your thighs. When the car rolled to a stop at a light, his hand jerked up, fingers rubbing your aching slit through your underwear. The sensation earned a startled squeak, then a low and filthy moan.

“That’s generous of you,” he noted slyly, mouth still curled into a wicked smirk. Shinsou leaned over, voice dropping to a sensuous timbre near your ear, “generous enough that I might just fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Clever fingers pressed firmly against your clit, pulling a whimper past your lips. Your hips bucked on their own to gain more friction, but the Pro hero quickly pulled away and resumed driving. The loss of his touch made you whine, aching and needy, thighs quivering at the memory of his fingers. A pout twisted on your lips, your eyes trailing over to his hands which were traitorously on the wheel and not between your legs. The desire you felt for him was astronomical, the two of you had been unable to see each other in weeks because of his hero work. You needed relief.

Casting a glance at him to make sure his attention was on the road, you slipped your hand between your thighs, slowly working your sex. The sensation was decadent, though you knew it would only be a matter of time before Shinsou noticed. The intense pleasure humming through your nerves left your breathing haggard despite your best efforts to keep it measured and controlled. It did not take long for you to hear a chuckle from your boyfriend.

“What are you doing over there?”

“Ah! Um noth—”

Your head was abruptly filled with fuzz, a pleasant calmness settling over you. It was like you were floating, drifting along within your own skin, your thoughts becoming malleable to suggestion. Shinsou’s rumbling laugh sent delicious tingles sliding inside of your skull, ready to receive your order from him. Rough knuckles stroked the line of your jaw and even through your daze, it felt nice to have his touch on your skin.

“Are you touching yourself without my permission?”

“Yes,” was your dazed response.

He clicked his tongue at you. “What a bad girl you are. Since you want to be impatient….Edge yourself for the rest of the drive. Don’t you dare cum unless I tell you.”

Your fingers worked your sex with renewed vigor, stroking along your aching slit. As your right hand busied itself between your legs, your left hand slid slowly, sensually up your front to squeeze your breasts through your dress. The sensation sent a sigh slipping past your lips, shuddering out into the air. Hooded eyes roved over to Shinsou, tracing the curve of his smirk that quirked mouth as he drove along.

“Moan for me. I want to hear you pleasure yourself.”

That command sank deeply into you and chased away your silence. Soon lewd moans and whimpers were escaping from your parted mouth, lips quivering as you traced little tortuous circles around your clit. Heat flushed along your skin, blooming deep in your belly as you continued on, knowing that Shinsou was listening to your solo performance. Eager, probing fingers pilfered beneath the hem of your panties, running along your slick sex.

The feeling of your own fingers against your bare pussy rocketed a bolt of heat through you, a desperate little cry tumbling out of you when you sheathed two fingers inside of your core. Hips twitching, you settled into a slow rhythm to chase your pleasure. Pebbled nipples pressed against your bra, aching to be touched, so you pinched one through the fabric of your outfit. It was maddening how much you needed him. But you continued to pump your fingers inside of yourself as you were commanded, obscene groans filling the car.

Your climax was rapidly approaching, hips bucking wildly as you desperately tried to chase it down. The icy air of the car blasted against your feverish skin, sweat dotting your forehead as you continued to thrust, writhing in ecstasy in your seat. Whimpers were your uttered prayer, your enthralled begging, desperate for a release, your body tightening in preparation for your fall over the edge of your orgasm.

And then your hands withdrew promptly, halting your progress right on the precipice of your relief. You whined loudly, twitching your hips against the air, straining to get more pleasure. The car coasted to stop at another light, Shinsou turned and gripped your right wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth. Eyes wide, you watched enthralled, his mouth closing around your two wet fingers. His tongue was wet and warm and so delightful as he licked you clean of your desire. The taste of you had him groaning, a hoarse rumbling in his throat as he lapped you up.

“Aw, did you want some relief, kitten?”

His voice cut through your haze, a bolt of desire going straight to your core. You uttered a weak cry, bucking your hips up into the air to be met with nothing. The sight of your twisting and writhing had him chuckle, releasing your wrist to trace his fingers along the lines of your fevered body. The feeling reduced you to needy whimpers, your body arching into his touch.

“Yes!” you groaned out, full lower lip caught between your teeth, “Oh please!”

“That’s too bad. You were a bad girl. You’ll have to wait to cum until I’m ready to let you. Now, keep edging yourself. Feel free to beg if you get the urge.”

His hand left you to return to the wheel, the car accelerating when the light changed. Your body was still too wound up so you roamed your hands over your body, following the curve of your hips, gliding up to knead your breasts. Tipping your head back, a warm palm slid up along your throat, fingers tracing the shape of your full and panting mouth. It was divine, an act of slow worship, but was not enough. This was but a mouthful of bread to a sumptuous feast. If Shinsou was having you work yourself like this, you knew he had plans to ruin you later.

“Oh—Oh Shinsou, please! Please I need to cum~”

“Fuck,” he growled out, “you are so sexy like that. Sitting over there aching for me. I bet you want my fingers inside of you don’t you?”

The Quirk induced haze compelled you to answer, “Yes. God I need you, Shinsou! Please touch me!”

“I don’t think so. You need to be ready for me. Keep going, kitten. Purr for me.”

A shaky gasp graced your lips when you plunged your fingers back into your tight core. Fuck, it all felt so good. The heat boiling within you simmered your desire to the surface, fingers exploring your wet sex as you nudged yourself closer to your release. The release you knew would have snatched away again. But the daze you were left in had you pushing forward, moaning and whining as you bucked and thrusted, tightening that coil of desire in your abdomen. It swelled and grew until once again you were right there on the edge of your release and then your hands pulled away.

“I—ah—Please,” was your breathy whimper, “please I need to cum.”

“You will,” he told you, parking in the parking lot of the restaurant. “Later.”

You whined, twisting again in the car seat. Rotating smoothly in his own seat, Shinsou leaned over to nip at your ear, a large hand squeezing your breast. His kisses were slow and tantalizing, hot tongue sweeping out to taste your skin. The idea of his mouth on other places made your pussy clench tightly in anticipation.

“Now be a good girl. I’m going to release you from my Quirk and you’re going to listen to me. Do you understand?”

You nodded, feeling his influence immediately fall away from your mind. The pro hero tipped your head back in his direction, sealing a rough kiss to your mouth, hot and brimming with his own ache for you. It was deep and nearly bruising but he pulled back quickly, careful to not lose himself too soon. Indigo eyes hovered inches away from you, boring into you with a brilliant intensity.

“I can’t wait to throw you down on the bed and take you. But first I’m going to taste that pretty pussy of yours. I bet you’re dripping right now, aren’t you?” he whispered.

Hoarse and husky, his voice was absolutely divine. His rasped promise made a shiver roll down your spine, chills racing along your skin to reveal gooseflesh. Your breath hitched in your throat, pink tongue darting out to wet your lips. Helplessly, you nodded, summoning another smirk to his face. Careful, calloused fingers traced the outline of your mouth slowly before he leaned back in his seat.

“Let’s go get our dinner.”

You soon found yourself inside the restaurant, tucked away in a corner booth, crowded up against Shinsou. Even through his clothes you could feel his hard muscles, carefully crafted lines from his physical work and training. The feel of him against you quickly invaded your thoughts, drifting to how wonderful it was going to feel when he pinned you down on the bed and pounded into you. Having been away from him for weeks, you were positively famished for his attention and touch.

“Now, sit real still for me,” he rumbled into your ear, a hand diving between your legs. “Shit. You’re soaked, kitten.”

The public location left you biting your lip, desperately trying to keep your voice trapped in your throat. But the shameful moan was bubbling, fighting to get free. Peppering quick kisses on your jaw, he easily slipped two fingers inside of you. Your breath came out in a shuddering gasp, pussy clenching around his fingers. He chuckled in your ear.

“Dirty girl. Did you like it when I used my Quirk on you? Had you work yourself into a frenzy only to pull back just before you could cum?”

“Hi—Hitoshi…”

He thrust his fingers into you, your eyes rolling in intense pleasure. No one around seemed to notice what the two of you were doing and whenever a waitress walked by your table, the risk of being caught made you clench around his fingers. It had never occurred to you before that Shinsou would try this with you but the idea of him teasing you, tormenting you in public with people walking by set a fire in you. And the thought of a powerful hero like him, working you, trying to make you a mess in his hands only pushed your arousal higher.

“What would they think if they caught you like this? It’s pretty shameless isn’t it? Just look at you, you’re getting all aroused with my fingers inside of you. Someone could see you like this at any minute…”

“Oh~”

The moan that escaped you was tiny. A fluttering thing that nearly vanished into the air but Shinsou heard it.

“Heh. You’re really into this aren’t you? I bet you’d cum right here at the table if I’d let you.” He crooked his fingers inside of you, pulling in a ‘come here’ motion. “Fuck you’re clenching so tight around me. I’m going to fucking ruin you when we get home.”

“I—ah— You’re so mean Hi—ah!”

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you through those filthy moans of yours.”

God having him whisper and groan into your ear was leaving you hanging by a thread. Minute quakes racked your body, feeling his fingers continue to curl inside of you beneath your dress. You were about three naughty whispers away from demanding he fuck you right on the table. How was he able to rile you up so easily?

Eager to touch and explore, you snaked your own hand out to grip him through his pants. The motion made him hiss in pleasure, his cock rock hard through his pants. You already could imagine the tip leaking salty pre, throbbing in his underwear. God, you wanted that inside of you. Just when you were about to stroke him, Shinsou gripped your wrist, pulling your hand away from his firm length.

“Did I tell you that you could touch my cock?” he growled out, his fingers growing still inside of you. “I don’t think I did, kitten.”

“Hitoshi, just fuck me already!” you whimpered.

“Listen to you, ready for me to take you right here in a restaurant. You really are shameless, aren’t you?” Blunted teeth nipped along the column of your throat. “But you’ll just have to wait. You’ll get my cock later, now behave. Our food will be here soon.”

A plaintive whine slipped from you when he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and aching. Indigo eyes burning with amorous intensity, he gripped your jaw in his hand, ensuring that you were looking right at him. The smirk he gave you was devilish and wicked, two drenched fingers lifting up to show you just how wet you are. Shinsou slipped those two fingers into his mouth, noisily cleaning off your essence before laughing softly.

“Just a little appetizer for me. I’ll have the real thing later.”

You were embarrassingly wet, pussy clenching tightly at the gravel in his voice. That uttered promise had you squirming against him as he held you against his side. The thought of his face between your legs, lapping at you, suckling on your clit until you were thrashing was intoxicating. You could already imagine his hands holding your hips down, strong fingers gripping your flesh tightly as he tasted you like a man starved.

“This is payback for all of the nudes I sent you while you were on patrol, isn’t it?” you grumbled, your face flooded with heat.

A single finger traced slow circles on your shoulder. “That might have something to do with it. But you also make it really fun to torment you.” Shinsou shot you a sidelong smirk. “It’s really hot to watch you get so turned on you can barely control yourself.”

Even though you weren’t admitting it, you also found it incredibly arousing when he tormented you to the point you nearly felt shameless. You had asked him to fuck you right at the table, for fucks sake! But you hadn’t been touched by anything but your own toys and fingers in weeks! To say that you were parched would be an understatement.

“You’re terrible!” was your weak protest, shoving his solid shoulder.

“Oh? Maybe I should show the waitress that sexy picture you sent me this past Tuesday? The one where you were in that lingerie and collar? Legs spread to show just how wet you were at the thought of me?” The smug smirk only grew when you whimpered. “I could show her what a little slut you were.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Shinsou chuckled, “Don’t worry, kitten. No one else is allowed to see you like that. You’re just for me.”

By the time the meal arrived, you were so hot and bothered that you could barely taste your food. You wanted to throw everything in a to-go box, drag him out by his shirt, and demand he fuck you before you even left the parking lot. But oh no, Shinsou insisted that you stay for the entire meal and he even ordered dessert. A small cup of oreo mousse just so he could lap it up suggestively at you.

“You are completely evil,” you folded your arms over your chest, icy air blasting through the vents of his car onto your bare legs. “Evil.”

“Am I? You’re the one who started this. Sending me all of those dirty photos when you knew I was on patrol.” Warm knuckles trailed along your jawline to slip down to your neck. “Or how about those texts? Where you were telling me how you wanted to suck my cock so bad? I think it’s only fair that you get what you gave me, don’t you?”

“Ok, but I didn’t do that in front of a waitress!” 

“No, but one of those pictures came in right when I was with Eraserhead and he nearly saw it.”

You ducked your head in embarrassment. “Oh... Sorry.”

“It’s too late for ‘sorry’ now, kitten. You wanted my attention and now you’ve got it. So that means you’re going to have to face the consequences.”

The idea of the ‘consequences’ gave you delicious shivers. Shinsou could be damn intelligent and devious when he wanted to, so your anticipation was brimming. You licked your lips slowly, ready to kiss him until you couldn’t breathe or he couldn’t breathe. And his right hand tracing teasing shapes on your thigh definitely wasn’t helping.

“You never did answer my question,” that husky voice finally stated, shattering the brief silence that had settled over the two of you.

“Oh?”

“Did you like it when I used my Quirk on you?”

A surprised sputter escaped you. “I—uh, what?”

“You heard me. Did you like it?”

Burning with embarrassment, you looked down at your lap and uttered in a quiet voice, “Yes…”

The smug satisfaction that rolled off of him was intense, smirk still twisting at the edges of his mouth. Shinsou was disarmingly attractive when he held such a cocky look, it made it impossible to resist him. And considering the hot slick that had gathered between your thighs, dampening your underwear, there wasn’t going to be any effort to even try on your part. Hunger glinting in your eyes, you pulled your lower lip between your teeth.

“Want me to do it again?”

You swallowed thickly, voice catching in your throat, “Fuck… uh, yeah. Yeah I do.”

“What was that?”

His attempt at lulling you into the embrace of his Quirk was ham-handed but also appreciated. It was not the first time that it was used in your foreplay and you had given him permission to use it, provided he didn’t cross your hard limits. A smile curled at the corners of your mouth at his caution. Shinsou couldn’t see the playful expression on your face because he was driving but if he could, he would see you staring him down with all the confidence in the world.

“Yea-”

That pleasant fog settled over you again, a warm embrace that cradled you closely to your arousal. All thoughts had stilled and you were open, ready for your boyfriend’s command. A pleasant chuckle filled your ears, only driving your arousal higher. It was like you were wrapped in nothing but his voice, thrumming, caressing your ears, eager for him to tell you what he wanted.

“Touch yourself. But don’t cum. Only I get to make you do that tonight.”

Instantly your hands pulled up the hem of your dress, slipping up your thighs to dive into your underwear. When you drew slow circles around your aching clit, you gave a piteous moan, shuddering with intense need. After all of the foreplay, you were feeling dreadfully sensitive. And swathed as you were in Shinsou’s quirk, it was a sensation that swallowed you. The whimpers and whines that rose from your parted mouth were downright musical to the pro hero. Helpless to the pleasure, you bucked your hips against your own hand, aching for more friction. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot moaning like that,” he growled. “Tell me what you want, kitten.”

“You!” was your immediate answer, fingers sinking deep into your slick core. “I need you to fuck me. I wanna cum screaming your name! Hitoshi, please!”

The sound of you begging made him want to pull over and fuck you right on the hood of his car, not at all caring who saw. Heart hammering in his intense arousal, the pro sucked in a sharp breath as he reigned himself in. It was another five agonizing minutes before his car rumbled to a stop and he killed the engine with a turn of his wrist. There was a hum and suddenly your mind was clear again but with your desire so potently overpowering you could feel yourself shaking minutely. Your thighs were smeared with your hot slick, ready to be fucked into oblivion.

“Get inside. Now.” 

You did not need to be told twice. On wobbly legs, you stumbled up the stairs, fingers fumbling with your keys until you both staggered into your apartment. The motion to kick off your shoes was clumsy and haphazard and Shinsou barely took the time himself to do the same thing. He was upon you nearly instantly, strong hands shoving you up against the wall with a loud thump. A thick and well muscled thigh slotted between your legs, fingers tightening in your hair to tilt your head back for him. 

The kiss he gave you was searing, wild and filled with hunger. Cool teeth nipped at your lower lip, tongue plunging forward to plunder your hot and eager mouth. With his free left hand, Shinsou started hiking the fabric up to gather around your waist, revealing your lower half to him. A calloused finger traced along the waistband of your thong, before diving down the front. The tide of his kisses was enough to smother your moan when his fingers discovered your aching clit, pinching roughly. 

You clawed at his shoulders, shuddering and crying out against his bruising kisses. Feeling impatient to have his bare skin against yours, you shoved him back and pushed at his jacket. Shinsou chuckled, voice hoarse with desire and shrugged out of his jacket. Unceremoniously he let it drop to the floor, dark fabric pooling into a puddle, forgotten. When he pressed a hungry kiss to your mouth again, your fingers drifted up to slowly work through the buttons of his shirt. A pleased groan emerged from him when you parted the shirt, hands glazing over his torso.

Open mouthed kisses trailed down to your neck, Shinsou eagerly biting and sucking at the column of your throat as you guided the shirt off of his shoulders. You basked in the heat of him, raking your nails across his back when his fingers slipped back down to toy with your clit, a fire burning beneath your skin. The bolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, hips bucking blindly to gain more friction. You yanked your own dress up and over your head before tossing it off to the side, uncaring where it landed. 

Shudders wracked you as you arched your back to take off your bra, fumbling clumsily with the clasp. But it was worth the effort for as soon as you freed your breasts, Shinsou dipped his head to latch a mouth around a nipple. Pleasure boiled white hot in you, desperate pleas tumbling from your mouth as his tongue flicked across the pebbling bud. You were so stimulated and needy that you felt light headed. 

“Hitoshi, pleaaaaase,” was your plaintive whine, “I need to cum!”

“Fuck!”

Rough hands yanked down your thong, his powerful form dropping to his knees before you. He guided you to lift a trembling thigh onto his shoulder before casting you a lewd smirk. Then he leaned forward, closing his mouth around your throbbing clit. The raw wave of pleasure wiped your mind of all coherent thought, only able to feel him suckling on your needy pearl. Lolling your head back, you felt it thud against the wall behind you, grinding against his face to push yourself closer to the release you needed so badly.

“Ah—Ah! ‘Toshi! God, fuck! Please! Please! I need to cum, I need to—!”

At your frantic begging, blunted teeth raked over your sensitive bud, fingers slipping up to tease your entrance. The evening had left you wound tightly in your core, ready to teeter over the edge with just the right push. The feeling of his teeth raking across your clit was just the one you needed. White spots danced in front of your eyes, bucking helplessly through your orgasm. A loud cry was pried from your throat, shaking as Shinsou lapped up your weeping slit.

Bonelessly, you slumped against the wall, feeling his shoulder flex beneath your thigh. You had expected for your boyfriend to get up and carry you to the bed or table or couch or anywhere with a reasonable surface that you could lay on so he could pound into you. But no. Instead he renewed his licks, noisily slurping up your essence. Thick fingers spread you wide, allowing him to push his tongue into you. 

“I—ah—Hi-Hitoshi!”

You felt weak, arousal quickly and easily building again within your belly even as your leg strained to hold you up. God, you wanted to just crumple to the ground, a mess of limbs and arousal, and let him pound into you but all you could do was thrash your head beneath his assault. Shaking fingers threaded through his hair, gripping and tugging as he devoured you. But as he continued, lapping, sucking, and probing, your grip tightened. You felt so sensitive you almost wanted him to stop! At a particularly lewd moan, Shinsou growled against your pussy, hands squeezing your hips to keep you still.

“Just fuck me already!” you moaned, writhing in his grip.

Normally, he would take that opportunity to taunt you. Maybe tell you to ask nicely and he might oblige. But based on the outline of his clearly erect cock in his pants and the nearly feral growls coming from him, he was far too gone to play any kind of games. Lifting his lavender head, he licked away the film of juices coating his lips, blazing eyes boring into yours. Though no words came from him, the look reflected at you in those deep indigo pools spoke enough; you would not be making it to the bedroom.

With startling swiftness, Shinsou stripped himself bare, cock swollen and flushed, twitching in anticipation of entering you. Hard, cut muscles moulded against your own figure, heat simmering brilliantly against him. He guided one of your thighs over his hip, gripping it there as he sheathed himself in your wet heat. The pleasured hiss that slipped between his gritted teeth was enough to make you mewl with need. His girth stretched you to a pleasant fullness, reaching deep inside you where your fingers could not.

The pace he began was a brutal and rough one, hips jerking forward to rut inside of you. A warm, calloused hand lightly settled over your throat, keeping you pressed tightly to the wall as he fucked you. Shinsou became your rock against the rushing tide of your rapidly approaching orgasm, winding your arms around his neck so you could cling to him. His cock dragging along your walls was pure decadence, despite his desperate rhythm pounding into you.

Growling, he dipped his head to press a bruising kiss to your open mouth, tongue eagerly exploring you. The hand that had been at your throat slid away, gliding down to palm at your breasts, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his touch. Sweat dotted both of your brows from your exertions, tendrils of passion blazing within you. With how the two of you had been teasing and taunting throughout your date, it did not take long to push him near the edge of his own release. 

“Come on, kitten,” he growled out, “purr for me. Let me hear you scream.”

His hips stuttered against yours, dexterous fingers stealing away to draw tight circles on your clit. You groaned his name over and over, a shaky prayer to keep you anchored against the tidal wave of release that you knew was coming. Shinsou cursed roughly, dropping his mouth to the side of your neck to bite down, sending you careening over the edge of your climax once more. You threw your head back and let out a pleasured howl, one that would surely make the neighbors complain. The sight of you coming undone and whimpering pathetically was enough to send him over with a strangled groan. 

He pulled out of you, ropes of sticky white splashing onto your abdomen, his fist working his shaft to ride out the rest of his release. Shinsou slumped against you, panting into your neck, sweat lining his body. You were equally out of breath but incredibly satisfied, the afterglow washing over you with a pleasant hum. Idly you found yourself threading your fingers through Shinsou’s hair, relishing in the feel of their silky texture as you both came down from your fevered pace.

“I missed you, have I said that to you yet?” he rumbled into your neck.

“You’ve mentioned it but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

He chuckled before easily cradling you to him. “Alright then, how about one more? I really missed you.”

You gave a happy hum and pressed yourself against him, nuzzling deeper into his embrace, “Tell the heroes if they keep hogging you to themselves, I’m going to stage a kidnapping mission to get you away from them.”

“Devious. What if I turn the tables on you?”

“Well I win either way.” You pressed a tender kiss to his hair. “Can we shower now? And then cuddle after? Oh and watch a movie?”

Shinsou returned the gesture, kissing your hairline softly. “Whatever you want, kitten.”

As he guided you both to the bathroom to wash off, you felt incredibly content. Life for you two was never going to be normal, but for the time being you were satisfied. It wasn’t perfect and you knew it was never going to be the white picket fence dream that others wanted. But this was enough for you. Even if it was just moments between the storms.

[seancekitsch]

You Need Hands: Part of the Prize Buck Series

Warnings: smut, talking about abusive relationships, talking about drug use, unsafe bondage practices bc i am not a sex guru i am a writer of two flawed people, codependancy, praising

Klaus is surprised, to say the least when you come into the apartment raging, fingernails chewed off and eyes red as if you'd been crying on your walk home from work. Work was your only place, save for home, where you seemed truly happy. He notices your shaking and the barely contained rage behind the clench of your jaw.

“Hey! Hey, is everything alright?” he puts a hand out to stop you from pacing, and you turn on him, eyes glassy and red.

“Do you know what she said about us?”

What the fuck? Who would have said that? You talk to his siblings. Your boss. And. Oh. Okay, you talk to Gwen, your roommate from your University days that you recently gotten in touch with again. Klaus doesn't like her. It’s hard to get on Klaus’ bad side, but she seemed… pushy. Not pushy. What's the word he’s trying to use? Controlling? Scheming? Yeah, those are the ones. Accuracy cuts deeper, you always tell him. He pets your arm, feeble in trying to calm you down but after a few ragged open-mouthed breaths, you’re ready.

“She called us Sid and Nancy,” you continue, “She said we live in a sex den above a bodega slowly killing each other, if not outright doing it. She thinks you’re gonna get me high again. She basically met up with me up to judge me and tell me everything I’m doing wrong. I didn't even get to tell her about that paella we made last week for your whole family.”

“Oh, she’s kidding right? I’d make a terrible Nancy.” That makes you pause in your tracks, confusion lighting up your features.

“No- Klaus she thinks you’re Sid.”

“I’m not Sid.” He reaffirms, pulling you in and wrapping his arms around your frame. Noticing how the candlelight catches on your hair, making you look like a biblical angel, one of those terrifying fiery things, hard to look at but you’re all his. He knows how you feel right now, better than anyone. He’s used to being the one discounted and lectured. His own siblings, as much as he loves them dearly, only just started trusting him in the span of the past two years. It felt like something divine, that despite how mean and secluded you were at first, how you trusted him so deeply so quickly. He’d known you for almost a year, and in that year dragged you to another century, gotten you involved in a cult, exposed you to his family, ghosts, challenging and difficult situations other people could have easily cracked under without disease plaguing their mind. Klaus is capable of great cruelty and recklessness, he knows it. He knows you shouldn't trust someone who has seen and done the frankly fucked up shit he has, but you do. And he trusts you fully in turn, if not more. Even when you refused to be open with him, pushed him away; the days when you would have rather stuck pins in your hand than speak to him because he was loud and you were too weak to handle it.

He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding when he feels your head dip and fall against his chest.

“Is she right?” your voice is far away, empty. Needing some empty comfort. “Are we killing each other? Do we suck?”

“Hey, c’mon, don't be upset,” he shushes you, “We’re good for each other. We have jobs! No relapses! Bet your ex could never say that.” He couldn't, your ex was part of the reason you were here, which Klaus wasn't exactly upset about because it meant he had you and no one else did, but you probably could have benefitted from years free from an active addiction that was more or less funded by the competitive nature of your work and home life.

“I’m not upset. I’m pissed.”

That solves it for Klaus. When you're pissed, you clam up. He doesn't want to emotionally lose you for the rest of the day, or worse, the whole weekend.

“We’re not killing each other,” he confirms, “Pretty sure you can't kill me anyway.”

You snort and swat at his ribs, but then your hand doesn't leave him after the hit, instead slinking from his side to his back, coming to rest on his shoulder blade. You're holding him, which means he hasn't lost you.

“Oh, wicked thing, I’ll show you how good I am for you.”

You sigh, and feeling the pricking of your nails on his back, he takes that as permission. His hand begins roaming your body, groping at your chest, squeezing at your ass as you grab onto him, holding him for stability as he keeps moving, his large hands making you moan.

“Klaus…” you trail off. What are you trying to say? What are you asking for? You don't know.

“How many days have you been clean?” He whispers against your skin.

“One hundred and ninety three.” You know it exactly.

“See? She’s wrong,” and he goes back to peppering your face with kisses as his hands work to pull your skirt out of the way. Its dirty the way he pulls your clothes out of the way to fondle at you, to rub against your cunt through your underwear, to pull that underwear aside and find you wet and waiting. His other arm wrapped around the small of your back, holding your rumpled skirt gathered in his hand.

“I’ll be real good for you,” he affirms, slipping a finger into you, and then another. You grip onto his shoulders now, enough to keep you standing when your legs want to crumble under his thrusting. He pushes in with ease, like you were made to take his fingers, your breath hitching and tiny whines falling from your lips. His forehead dips to press against yours, sweat beginning to form on his brow. Its dizzying, how deep his long fingers can be inside you, how full and whole you feel as he holds you against him, making you shake and moan as he props you up, letting you feel like a ragdoll at his mercy.

“Hey,” he nudges you with his nose, “Hey, Lover, look over there.”

He shifts his head to the left, and your head follows. You're face to face with the image of yourself in the cheap and grimy thrift shop mirror you had bought. You see how strong his lean muscles are, how they move against you, hold you close and safe.

“Look how fuckin’ good you look.” You nod, you have to agree, heavy bedroom eyes stare back at you, your lips parted almost pornographically. Is this how Klaus sees you all the time? He picks up the pace, eagerly moving his hips along with his hand, needing to feel some release and friction himself as he works you over, your voice raising an octave as he gets rougher, until your eyes close tightly; your body stiffens, shakes, and you can hear him praising you. You're doing so well, that's it, all for me, right on my hand, you're so sexy. Your voice comes out in a shudder. Trying to thank him as your muscles twitch and you look into his beautiful green eyes.

“No, no, no, shhhh,” he hushes you again, smoothing your hair down as he leads you to walk on wobbly legs over to the bed to sit, not bothering to fix your skirt. Your eyebrow quirks as he moves to remove his belt fully, not just unbuckle it to remove his pants.

But you wise up quickly, watching him grab your hands and start to wrap the belt around your wrists. You have bondage rope somewhere around here, but this is hot, and he told you to be quiet, so you don’t make a sound. He moves your hands at the wrist, checking for you to make sure the belt won't hurt you, then pushes you back onto the bed, staring at invisible patterns on the ceiling as you lift your hand for them, belted wrists landing at the other edge of the bed. You can feel him push your skirt up even more, then you feel his skin on yours, his bare thighs rubbing against the inside of yours, then the sensation of Klaus rubbing his cock against you. Fuck, you love his cock. You love him. He watches your expression, your gasps, your sighs from lips plumped by bruising, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs against you. You're a fucking goddess. He doesn't deserve you, despite trying to carnally prove that he does. Youre so fucking good, you’ve helped better each other. Fuck what anyone says. He just hopes you believe it too.

“So fuckin’ good, Lover. Oh, I’m gonna worship this cunt,” he sighs, more to himself than you.

“Don’t make me wait, Klaus,” you command, but then whine as he enters you. Everything feels like so much, so much.

“Sensitive, Fraulein?”

“I can handle it.”

“Of course you can,” he agrees, setting his pace

He hikes one of your legs up onto his hip, then hikes his leg up onto the bed, getting a better angle to fuck you, but also to lean in and kiss you, his mustache brushing your chin, lips attaching themselves to the underside of your jaw as he kisses you fully, pressing his love into your skin.

He covers your body with his own, protective, possessive, and devoted; he fucks you through another high, making you scream into his mouth as he doesn’t slow his pace, once again shushing you and singing your praises. I love you, you look so good like this, let me live the rest of my life like this between your thighs. You want to let him take, and take, and take. Such a thoughtful, loving, loyal person. He gives. You want him to give.

“Klaus,” you sound breathless, “Klaus, come inside me, please.”

You beg, wanting him completely. He lifts your other leg, before climbing completely on the bed with you, his sweaty chest dropping against yours, palming at your breast as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, needing to feel the closeness of you as he comes.

He comes quietly, with a staggered gasp and your lips kissing his hair. One of his hands finds yours bound above your head, and grasps them both in his. He kisses your neck as he stills, body relaxing as he comes down.

You stay like that for almost a half hour before the phone on the wall rings and snaps you out of your loving haze.

[deathlikesdeep-dish]

“You’re Making Me Wet” (Zoro x Female Reader)

JUST UNDER THE WIRE BUT I FINISHED FOR BAE’S BIRTHDAY. It was not probably my best move to try and start and finish something in an evening, but here we are. A bit rushed, but I hope y’all enjoy this lil fic! I’ve been meaning to write this for a while, (specifically for the One Piece of Summer event) and haven’t gotten around to it. Inspired by the “We Can!” opening where the crew has a water gun fight, and sexy flirtation ensues. 

WARNINGS: cussing as usual, heavy suggestion but no smut! 

Zoro x Female Reader

Word Count: 1960

It was a particularly hot day aboard the Sunny, and the crew was beginning to get a little stir crazy. It would be days, according to Nami, before you all would arrive at the next island, and Luffy’s heavy, bored sigh every ten minutes after he’d ask how much longerrrr was beginning to wear on the entire crew. 

“Goddamn it, Luffy, if I hear you ask that question one more damn time, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” Zoro growls from his usual spot.

“Not like there’s much there to lose,” Sanji mumbles under his breath as he walks back to the kitchen, to the great amusement of both Chopper and Usopp, though their laughter is cut short by Zoro’s sharp gaze. 

“Shut up, cook,” Zoro ground out. 

You giggle quietly, but don’t say anything.

“Boys,” Nami rolls her eyes from next to you. You, Nami and Robin are all lounging in the shade on the deck. 

You look over at Zoro, who has uncharacteristically chosen to shed his usual gear in lieu of swim trunks and a simple white t-shirt. Though this is not out of place, as the entire crew had donned their swim gear after the third straight day of heat, it is still jarring to see the swordsman out of his normal attire. It left much less to the imagination, and made it difficult to concentrate. His brow is still furrowed in annoyance towards Sanji, his lips a thin, tight line. He doesn’t notice that you are staring, which you are grateful for. You are also grateful that both Robin and Nami seem content to occupy themselves with idle chatter. They have been giving you a hard time recently about your sometimes unabashed attraction to the greenette. 

You can see the slight sheen of sweat forming on Zoro’s tanned forearms and at the nape of his neck and as he tilts his head back, your gaze follows the sharp line of his jaw. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, clearly attempting to calm himself down and you can see his facial features beginning to relax. How is it fair for someone to be this attractive, you think bitterly. 

Abruptly, as if Zoro felt your gaze, his eyes open and the flash to yours. They are vigilant at first, cautious, but soften when he realizes that it is you, and not some enemy, that is looking at him. You realize, stupidly, that he has trained his Haki to notice any sort of energies directed towards him, and you could kick yourself for being so careless. 

He smirks a bit, but otherwise does nothing. You flush brightly and look away, turning to ask Nami a question but you find that she is no longer in her spot.

“Hey, where’d Nami go?” You ask Robin.

“I think she went to talk to Luffy about something,” Robin replies vaguely. 

“Oh,” You say, looking around. Luffy, too, has vanished from his normal spot atop the figurehead. 

“Come to think of it,” You say a little more loudly, attracting the attention of the other crew members nearby. “Isn’t a little too quiet?” 

“Huh, you’re right, y/n,” Chopper says. “It is really quiet...” 

Before you can utter another word, you hear the loud yell of your captain from the helm. “Gum-gum….WATER GUN FIGHT.” He leaps onto the deck with a cackle and begins rapidly firing a water gun at Usopp and Chopper.

“Hell yeah! Talk about a super soaker!” Frank yells out, his Franky water cannons emerging from his shoulder pauldrons, primed and ready to go. 

Nami yells out to you and Robin. “Robin, Y/n!” You both look up and see her toss a similar water weapon to each of you with a mischievous grin. You catch it with a loud laugh. 

“Oh, you idiots don’t even know what’s about to happen,” You say evilly, launching up from your chair. 

“Oh yeah?” Usopp challenges, and the battle ensues. Since you joined the Strawhats with Franky in Water 7, you have been through many battles with your nakama. And in some of these, you recall with unpleasantness, you weren’t sure if the crew was going to make it out all in one piece. So, it is with great pleasure that you engage in this battle, one where the only stakes of the loss are cleaning up Sanji’s dinner or helping Chopper get a mat out of his coat. You, along with Robin and Nami, are in immediate opposition to Franky, Chopper, and Usopp. Your captain is, of course, trying to take all of you on at once. 

Sanji is still in the kitchen, probably preparing some sort of fruity drink for the ladies, and Zoro is to the side, being an overall dolt and spoil-sport. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the side of the ship as he curls a dumbbell. 

“Nami, my sweet!” Sanji calls out, busting through the door with a tray of drinks, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding. 

“FRANKY SUPER CANNON,” Franky yells, firing a jet of water directly into Luffy. The blast is so powerful, that the Luffy is launched into Sanji, who is then launched into the marimo as he sits with his weights. The three of them are also immediately drenched with water from Franky’s cannon.

“Hey, what the hell!” Zoro barks out, standing up with a menacing glare.

“Stop getting in the way, moss-head! You knocked down my drinks for the lovely ladies!” Sanji replies with equal rage. 

“Why you….” Zoro replies. “Give me a fucking water gun. I’m gonna kick this cook’s ass.” 

“Ha! Not a chance, you couldn’t even touch me, cretin,” Sanji says. 

Luffy is cackling as Franky tosses two more water guns to Zoro and Sanji respectively. 

“Don’t wreck my ship!” Frank yells out with a laugh, as Zoro and Sanji are brought into the fight. The battle continues for a while longer, Zoro wanting desperately to use his swords (aiming a gun was not exactly his strong suit) and Sanji not wanting to use his delicate chef hands too vigorously (my hands are only for cooking and women, he’d say). Zoro, turning his attention away from Sanji, who is being attacked by Luffy and Robin, looks around to find you. You’ve been hiding from him intentionally, knowing that he would show you no mercy. 

“Oh, y/n…” Zoro calls. “Where have you been hiding? Don’t think I’ll let you get away scot-free.” 

Hearing his voice, low and taunting, throws an unexpected pang of desire down your spine. You bite your lip in an effort to remain silent. You know that you hiding is pointless. He could find you in a second with his Haki. He’s teasing you intentionally. Does he know how desperately aroused that this is making you? 

“Got ya,” You hear in your ear from behind you. You jump at the sudden closeness of his voice and yelp a bit. 

“Ugh, Zoro,” You complain, hoping he doesn’t notice how breathless you are. “You’re such an ass,” You turn towards him and meet his gaze. He is much closer than you thought, so when you turn around and look up, your noses nearly touch. He makes no moves to back off, challenging you. You take a step backwards, cursing in your mind, and rip your gaze from his. This is a mistake. Your eyes settle on his torso. The white t-shirt he has been wearing is all but translucent now, soaked with water from the fight. The fabric clings to each line of his chest and abdomen, and even though you’ve seen him shirtless many times before this, there’s something particularly erotic about him being fully clothed and yet so exposed. 

Your lips are parted as you let out a shuddering breath. You take a step back, trying to regain composure, only to find your back against the side of the ship. He is very close. And you have nowhere to go. “Uh,” You stutter. You look up at his face again, which was yet another mistake. You are now close enough to trace the lines of his face with your eyes. You notice, for the first time, how ragged the scar over his left eye actually was. You feel a tinge of sadness, wondering for a long moment how it happened, and hating the thought of him suffering. 

That thought quickly leaves your mind, as he reaches to place a hand on either side of your head, leaning in. “What the problem, y/n?” He teases.

Since when has the socially awkward first mate become so incredibly seductive?! 

“Zoro,” You start, droplets of water from his hair and his arms dripping onto your skin. “You’re making me wet.” You finish without thinking. 

His grin widens and you don’t realize why until you remember the words that had just come out of your mouth. You flush bright red and you bury your hands in your face immediately. 

“Oh my God,” Your words are muffled by your hands. Oh my God, please just fucking kill me now.  

After a moment, you feel warm fingers wrap around your wrists, to pull your hands to the side. You try to ignore the tingling sensation emanating from his touch. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you wet,” He says slyly. “Let me fix that,” he finishes before stepping back to strip off his shirt. The two of you are far enough away from the rest of the crew to feel particularly vulnerable. Though you know, of course, that Zoro poses no threat to you, you are beginning to feel like your dignity may end up being threatened if you’re not able to get your shit together. 

“Zoro, what are you doing?” You ask in a near whisper.

“Y/n,” He breathes. “You must know that I can sense you.” He looks you directly in the eye, his dark gaze penetrating. “I know your energy. I know when you’re near.” 

You are disarmed, unable to look away. “I’ve trained myself to know. Because I need to know that you’re safe.” You are taken aback, not expecting to hear something so sentimental come out of the swordsman’s mouth. 

“I know when you’re looking at me. I know when you stare. I can sense your heart racing right now,” He continues, leaning in so that his lips barely brush yours. 

“I can sense that you want me in the same way that I want you,” He says finally. 

Wait, what? You think, your mind hazy. He had never once given you any indication that he felt this way. “What did you just say?” You ask.

“I said that I want you.” He replies simply. 

You don’t know what to say. You’d never even allowed yourself to consider the possibility that Zoro may feel something like this for you. 

“You don’t have to answer right now,” He reassures you. “And there’s no rush. I want you to feel comfortable, y/n.” 

Your heart is warmed by the gesture and you are grateful that you are going to be able to have some time to process this information. Nami and Robin are going to lose their shit, you think.

“But y/n,” Zoro says, the same sly tone back in his voice as leans down to your ear. “If I catch you staring at me while I’m shirtless again,” He gently tugs your earlobe between his teeth. You gasp, nearly collapsing. “I make no promises to go slow.” His lips trail to the hollow beneath your ear, and you brace your hands against the wall of the ship. 

“I may be honorable,” He whispers. “But I am a pirate.”

[maddpopcorn]

It’s Okay || pjm

Pairing: Maine Coon!Hybrid!Jimin x Male!Reader

Request:  hiii can i request a jimin x male reader fic? maybe an angst/comfort hybrid au where jimin is a homeless hybrid who escaped from his abuser owner and is now trying to survive in the streets. the reader would find him and try to help him, but since jimin is scared and doesn’t trust humans, it’s a bit harder than he expected.. (i’d prefer a series but you can make it a one-shot or drabble or whatev boils your noodles lol) thank you in advance and have a nice day!

Summary: When walking down your normal road, you spy a long, fluffy tail. And when it connects to a bruised and bloodied up hybrid who immediately hisses at you, you find yourself trying everything in your power to bring him home….even if you have to suffer a couple of scratches along the way.

Warnings: Angst, lots of angst, burning of the skin with cigarettes, mentions of starving from neglect/punishment, punching, slight mentions blood and cleaning the wound, night terrors

A/N: Wow, you were my first request! I am so sorry it took long. However, I enjoyed writing this piece a lot so I hope you enjoy it, too! If people like this so much, perhaps I could make a second part (I already have one hybrid series I’m planning on making so it might be too much to make this into a series :)) Also, forgive me if there are any mistakes!

Jimin hates being a hybrid. No, scratch that. He despises it. He despises himself. Because of his nature, he’s immediately treated with little to no respect by most humans in society. He’s treated like he’s some type of scum on the bottom of their shoes.

Which isn’t true at all but who will ever listen to him, right? He is just a mangy good for nothing hybrid, after all.

He despises humans. After all of this time observing them, after experiencing them first hand, he has deemed them greedy, selfish and just evil.

They are all evil.

Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes, and he hastily wipes them away out of habit in fear of being caught. He blinks and then dryly chuckles, looking down at his burnt scars that dotted his arms. Who is going to burn their cigarettes into his now dry and cracked skin? Who is going to punch their frustrations out on him again?

No one, right?

He escaped them.

He escaped them.

.

Sighing in relief and with a smile, you wave bye to the last customer that walks out of the coffee shop. Immediately, your smile drops.

“Holy hell, today was busier than a fucking highway,” you groan, shoulders drooping dramatically. You let the broom slide in your hand until only the tips of your fingers are barely holding it up.

“Yeah, why do these people need all of this coffee on a Friday afternoon anyway?” Yoongi complains, dropping his head on the counter, his recently dyed mint hair covering his eyes. “It’s like they’re addicted or something. Damn.”

“Takes one to know one, Yoongles,” you tease, holding the broom properly again and resuming sweeping.

Huffing at your joke, he stretches, popping several bones in the process (that you may or may not be worried about).“Yeah but unlike them, I know my limits.”

“Hah, funniest joke of the year. Yeah, right, dude.”

He reels back like he has touched fire and gasps. “Wha-excuse me, mister but I know my limits.”

“No, you really don’t.” 

“Ye-”

“Yoongi-” you stop sweeping, putting your hand on your hip. “-you drank 5 cups of coffee in one sitting during exam week. And then, the next week, you kept chugging energy drinks like they were nothing so you could finish your ‘precious song’.” One by one, you start listing off all the times he has drank too much coffee and energy drinks. His body deflates with each jab at his pride until he’s crumbling in on himself.

It’s a hot minute before any of you say anything, quietly cleaning up the shop so that you could finally go home.

“Fuck off, pretty boy,” he finally says, middle finger in the air and face heating up. 

You bark out a laugh. “So you finally admit that I’m pretty, huh? Jin owes me $5.”

“You fucking-”

.

“Don’t forget, 8 o’clock tonight, my apartment. Don’t be late like last time, brat,” Yoongi scolds, adjusting his glasses. You throw your hands up, a cheeky smirk on your face.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You wave bye to your coworker as you exit the coffee shop. Humming to yourself, you begin your journey on your normal path to home. Mentally checking off your to-do list before you have to get ready for the annual hangout you and your friends have every week, you spot in the corner of your eye a fluffy, blonde blob. You turn your head, fully stopping and squinting.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, creeping up on the blob. It grows until it stops at a…

“Holy shit!” You yell, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth in disbelief.

A hybrid. A cat hybrid, to be specific, is laying on the dirty and wet ground of the alley way. His eyes are closed, and you timidly squat down near him to examine him. Matted blonde hair sticks to his face with what you can only assume is sweat and dirt which is also smudging across his face. His lips are forming a pout and he moves a bit, making you jump back in surprise. When he stays still after, you continue your examination. His skin looks dry and his cheeks are sunken in. Trailing your eyes down his form, you notice how worn and ragged his clothes truly are. And how big they look on him. Your eyebrows furrow at his state. Someone did a beating on this poor guy.

He whimpers in his sleep and without thinking, you do something stupid. Something incredibly stupid.

You reach your hand out towards him, to pet him or give him comfort, not really controlling your urges to get close. And that’s when you instantly regret it. His eyes snap open, and you yelp in pain as his claws swipe into your skin. Recoiling back, you immediately grasp your now bleeding arm, eyes glued to it. Three deep scratches litter your arm and blood starts to come to the surface.

Even if you’re the one that got scratched, you apologize.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, letting out a shuddering breath. “I should’ve given you your space. I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone!” He hisses, shuffling far away from you. Growling, his entire body shakes as flashes upon flashes come back to him. Pupils reducing to slits and ears flattening against his head, he swipes at you again, 

You mentally slap yourself in the face. Of course he would scratch you. You invaded his personal space and reminded him of his abusers. You scared him. You back up, giving the hybrid one last glance, guilt racking every bone in your body for scaring the hybrid before you walk away. 

He doesn’t meet your eyes.

-

You rush home, your makeshift bandage from the napkins in your pocket soaked in blood. He got you deep. But it wasn’t his fault. It was yours.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you repeat to yourself. “How could you be so fucking stupid?”

Someone holds the door open for you as you slide past them, muttering a quick thanks.

“Hi, Mrs. Hags. Bye, Mrs. Hags,” you yell out to the landlady, rushing past people into the elevator of your complex.

“Bye, dearie,” she calls out. “Odd fellow, he is. Isn’t that right, Mr. Whiskers?”

Her cat only yawns in response and she immediately coos, getting right back to her knitting.

Stomping your foot impatiently, you give an awkward smile to the other tenants present in the elevator. They smile back, weird looks on their faces as they realize you’re holding your bleeding arm and you silently wish that the elevator would hurry the hell up. Sighing in relief as the elevators dings, you squeeze through the opening doors.

“Odd fellow,” One whispers out.

“Yeah, very odd,” Another whispers back.

Fumbling with your keys to your door, you curse in frustration as you drop them. Picking them up, you unlock your door after what seemed like forever. Finally, practically throwing open your door, you race to your bathroom, not caring as your door slams behind you. Dropping everything, you quickly get the first aid kit out.

“Fuck,” you hiss in pain as the alcohol seeps into your wound. Tears fall from your eyes from the burning sensation. “Ah, I’m melting, I’m melting…fuck, I’m dumb.”

After 10 minutes of grueling pain, you look at your newly bandaged arm. That was so stupid of you. How could you just invade his space like that? As you focus on your arm, dumb thoughts running through your head, your phone rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. Fishing it out of your pocket, you groan again when you realize it’s Yoongi. You still had time to get there, two hours really, so why was he calling you?

“Hello?” 

“Y/N, wanted to let you know that Joon got the stomach bug so the hangout is cancelled. Hobi and I are taking care of him.”

You can hear groans of pain in the background and Hoseok teasing. “Quit being a baby, Joonie. It’s a mere stomach bug.”

“Feels like I’m dying, Hobi,” he groans dramatically.

“Sounds like you have a handful, Yoongles,” you chuckle, putting up the alcohol and first aid kit.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me. I hope Joon gets better. I have some stuff to do so I have to go.”

“Yeah, right. Bye, Y/N-Namjoon, did you just hit me with a pillow?”

You can hear Namjoon yelling “Cuddles, now!” before Yoongi hangs up, eliciting a belly laugh out of you. How Yoongi and Hoseok put up with their boyfriend, you have no clue but more power to them. Staring back at your arm, you nod as you come up with a plan to win the hybrid over. Or at least apologize to him. You roll up your other sleeve, making your way over to your kitchen. You’ve got work to do.

-

It’s a couple of hours later when Jimin finally retreats from his hidey hole to see a brown paper bag with a note attached to it. An amazing smell wafts through the air that makes his stomach growl in hunger. He slowly crawls forward, tail swishing in curiosity, and snatches the note from the bag.

I’m sorry about today. Please enjoy your dinner.

P.S, I hear Maine Coons like this fish, assuming you are one. Enjoy :)

-Y/N (The guy who is really sorry about invading your personal space)

He hisses in disgust, shifting backward from the paper bag. The note flies from his grasp and lands in a puddle, immediately getting soaked from the dirty water. What if you poisoned it? Or laced it with something? Are you working for…her? Are you going to take him back? It’s not like he’s never had the wonderful pleasure of starving before. She would make sure of that. He can deal with it. He has done it plenty of times, one more can’t hurt…right?

He sits there, just glaring holes at the bag as rain drops hit him, trying so hard to ignore everything. The smell, the wonderful smell. He clenches his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’ll break them as another sharp pain shoots through his stomach, accompanied by a familiar grumbling. He tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on something else. Perhaps the way his bones are shivering from the rain will do? No, that makes it worse. Makes him want whatever is in the bag even more. It seems warm. Warm enough to make him warm. He wants it. He needs it. So much.

Ignore it.

Ignore it.

Ignore. It.

But, a guy can only take so much.

The smell surrounding him in mockery and the nagging pain finally makes Jimin grab the bag, fishing out the food and digging in, without sparing it a second glance. He’ll worry about the consequences later.

He almost moans from the taste he thought he had forgotten long ago. The fish is still warm, kept in a container that keeps the temperature insulated and whatever soup you got (or made, he can care less) goes perfectly with it.

In a matter of minutes, the fish is finished, and Jimin is gulping down the remaining soup. He pulls back, licking his lips and sighs in satisfaction. His stomach is warm from the soup. He’s not shivering that much from the rain anymore. He actually feels…cozy and it’s incredibly weird to him. Something foreign almost. He places the bowl back into the bag and crawls back into his hiding place. Curling up, yawning, he thinks of you and quietly mumbles a thank you before falling fast asleep.

-

It is a couple of days later when you return, bandage wrapped around your arm. Jimin growls in annoyance and begrudgingly relief. You seem..okay from his scratch.

Stupid human can’t follow a stupid task.

“I come bearing a peace offering,” you smile, holding out two bags.

Jimin’s eyes study the bags and then trail up your hand and to your arm. Annoyingly, in his opinion, guilt racks up. You notice his eyes glued to your arm and you wave your hand.

“Don’t worry about. My friend Jin said it would be fine.”

You lock eyes for a mere second before he’s immediately spitting back, “Like I care.”

He averts his eyes, letting out a loud huff. You sit down, slowly sliding one bag towards him. He views the action from the corner of his eyes. What are you doing? He turns his head just a bit to get a better view and his eyes widen.

“What are you doing?” he practically screeches as you pull out your lunch for the day.

“Taking my lunch break. What else?” you tease, waving the take out container in your hand. “Would you care to join me?”

“No.”

You shrug your shoulders and open your container. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

You begin eating and Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and looking away. Again, he repeats the same mantra from last time.

Ignore it.

His stomach rumbles and if you heard it, you make no move to comment and instead, continue to happily eat. 

“Wow, this chicken is to die for. Compliments to the chef,” you groan, giving a chef’s kiss. “Sure you don’t want any?”

He knows what your game is. You’re just trying to rile him up to eat the food so that you can do whatever you want with him. No, not this time. It won’t work. After you leave, he’ll throw the food away. He is sure of it.

“I am positive I don’t want your shitty food,” he snaps.

You wince, putting a hand to your chest. “Ouch buddy, that hurt.”

“Not your fucking buddy either,” he growls in annoyance.

“Just slash at my feelings, why don’t yah?”

“Gladly.”

That is his last and final word. You finish your lunch, taking one glance at the hybrid and leave. Jimin sits there and makes a move to throw out the food. He hesitantly reaches out but backs away. His eyebrows furrow at his dilemma. On one hand, should he waste food like that? That would be wrong of him. On another, did you poison the food this time? Can he really trust that you didn’t?

He lasts a total of five minutes before he’s digging into the food. Maybe, just maybe, you’re a decent human. Just maybe.

-

It takes you weeks to earn the still nameless hybrid’s trust. Even then, it was only a small amount. At least you could sit closer together and talk about random things. That’s why it surprises you when he meekly asks if he can go with you this time.

You widen your eyes at his request. “What?” 

“When you leave, can I go with you? Y/N, please?” His ears are flattened against his head and his tail is curled around his waist.

“I don’t even know your name-”

“Jimin. It’s um, Jimin.” He blurts out. He clears his throat, face flushed, eyes looking at every thing but you.

“Jimin…” you whisper, the name so foreign on your tongue. “Pretty name. What made you want to come with me?”

“I…” he didn’t expect that question. “I don’t know. You just seem…comforting, I guess? I don’t know, it was stupid. I’m sorry-”

You cut him off. “Shh, it’s not stupid. I’m glad that I seem comforting to you. My answer is yes, you can come home with me.”

His eyes widen and it’s the first time you have ever seen him smile that wide before. You hope you’ll see that smile even more in the future.

-

“And this is your room!” You gesture with your arm. “I had to quickly clean it since I honestly didn’t think you would come with me so forgive me if it’s still a bit dusty.” You walk in but he doesn’t follow. You turn around towards him, cocking your head. “Jimin?”

Jimin can’t say anything. This is all for him? But, he didn’t do anything to deserve it. He didn’t please you. He didn’t let you use him as a personal punching bag for your frustrations. This is a trick. It has to be. No one is this kind to a stranger, especially a hybrid. A hybrid who hurt you. For fuck’s sake, he scratched you. Yeah, he wanted to come home with you and yeah, he did say you were comforting but he expected that you would make him share the same room or something. He didn’t know what to expect. Just not this.

“Jimin?” Your soothing voice lures him out of his mess he calls his thoughts.

“I-I can’t accept this room, Y/N.”

You must’ve pulled a face or something because Jimin is immediately tense, ready to dash right back out on to the streets.

“Why?” is the only thing you ask.

“What?”

“Why can’t you accept the room?”

He wraps his arms around himself, his tail joining them. “Never had this before. This much kindness thrown at me. Expected to..pay you in return.”

“It’s yours now, Jimin. No payment needed.”

“Why are you so kind to me?”

His question throws you off-guard and it takes you a minute to answer. You brush the lint off of his comforter. “Because you deserve it. I can only assume you’ve been through hell and back. Why not live the rest of your life peacefully?”

“Thank you.”

With that, you smile and leave him be in his new room. A couple of hours later, he joins you for dinner. Whatever you made smells heavenly. Quietly sitting down, he watches as you put the pot on the table in between you two. The bowls are already set and you serve him first before serving yourself. He mutters a “thank you”.

“Dig in, Jimin. I hope you’ll like it. New recipe I’m trying out,” you hum, taking a spoon full of the stew and blowing on it. He waits until you take a bite first. You smile in satisfaction as the spicy fish stew came out perfectly. Just the right amount of spice. He should’ve known better, really. You never wanted to hurt him in the first place but old habits die hard and he finds himself gauging your reaction to the food. You didn’t trick him before, you didn’t poison him at all, so why should this meal be different? Maybe it’s because he’s on your turf now. He waits and when he deems the food is safe enough to eat since you aren’t spasming out of control from poison or getting sleepy from a sedative, he digs in.

Wow.

You’re an amazing cook.

It doesn’t take Jimin even 5 minutes to finish his bowl and your heart aches just a little at the mere thought of him being hungry ever again. 

“Must’ve been good?” You tease light-heartedly. Jimin nods, licking his lips clean. “Want a second bowl?”

His eyes widen at the aspect and you only take his bowl to fill it up again. Jimin wastes no time finishing the second one. He feels all warm, fuzzy even and he looks down at his stomach in confusion. This is a familiar feeling. A feeling he had on the day you two met. It takes him a good solid minute, weighing the pros and cons of asking you if you had made that soup. Would you think it was weird if he told you he had remembered the fuzzy feeling? Would you think it was weird if he told you that that was the only time he had ever felt close to home? Finally, he concludes that either way, he needs to know because he cannot stand the stupid curiosity that’s nagging him.

“I..I have a question,” Jimin mumbles.

You nod, gulping down the remaining water from your cup. “Shoot.”

He looks around the room as he hesitantly asks, “Did, did you..you know, that soup..”

“Soup? What soup?”

“You know, that soup.”

“I’m not following, Jiminie?”

His face heats up at your nickname for him but you don’t seem to realize that you even said it in the first place. He finally blurts out, “The one that you gave me the first time we met! Did you cook it?”

“Oh.” 

“I just,” he continues. “It was the only time I ever felt..I don’t know. Nevermind- it’s stupid.”

“Yes.”

“What?” Did you actually think it was-

“Yes, I made it. I wanted you to have a homemade meal. And I was apologizing to you so I thought it would be a bit more..special I guess.”

“Thank you..”

You both clean the dishes, wash up and head to bed. Jimin is finally alone to just process everything. This could be a home for him. He lays down, relishing in the softness of the bed. He wraps himself with the comforter. It smells so nice and it feels so warm and so..homey. Yawning, he doesn’t notice the smile creeping up on his face as he closes his eyes, sleep taking over.

-

A couple of weeks have passed and having Jimin around is such a delight. Not having to come home to an empty apartment feels so much better. He helps you clean, he accompanies you when you’re watching something on the tv. He lets you ramble about your day at the coffee shop. It takes Jimin a while to grow used to being here. And not everything is so pleasant. Countless of times, Jimin has woken up from night terrors, from flashbacks of that place. And this time isn’t any different.

It’s around 4 in the morning when Jimin wakes up, his eyes flying open from the nightmare. Gasping for air, he looks around. Everything seems so hazy, so dark. All he can remember is him screaming for you.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. You’re not going to give him away, right? Right?

You weren’t anywhere in sight and he could feel himself panicking. He rapidly jumps up, trying to find the light switch or the curtains or something to give light. To give him hope that you hadn’t sneakily sold him back to her. He trips over something and reaches out his hand, grasping a cloth and pulling it down with him. Moon light floods the room and he curls up, sobbing and shaking. His heart is racing and he silently begs for you to appear.

You jolt awake at the loud “thunk” coming from somewhere in your apartment. You jump up, grabbing your baseball bat and tip toe out of your room. Hearing whimpers from Jimin’s room, you drop the bat and rush in.

“Jimin, oh my god, are you okay?” you ask alarmed, freeing him. He’s shaking all over, eyes closed and arms wrapped around himself.

“Please tell me I’m not there again. I don’t wanna go back. Please, please please..” He repeatedly mumbles. “I’m a good boy. I’ll be a better boy, I promise. Please, just don’t take me there.”

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, rocking him back and forth. “I promise on everything holy that I will never leave you. I will never let you go back there, Jimin.”

He sobs into your shoulder, gripping tightly at your t-shirt. His tail wraps around you, and you stroke his head.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re here, you’re home. It’s okay, you’re safe. I promise,” you whisper. After a long time, Jimin grounds himself and he pulls back to see you, worry filling your eyes and tears at the brim of them.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, diving right back into your arms. You only rub his back in soothing motions.

That was the first night ever that he had asked you to stay in his room.

-

The next morning while you’re making a delicious breakfast for the both of you, he stalks into the kitchen. You hum a little at his presence, asking him if he is okay. He hums in agreement and stares at you. You, already used to him just staring at you, studying your movements, continue cooking. He walks up behind you, ears pinned back, arms opening up.

He back hugs you.

You’re startled for a moment and it makes him hesitate to tighten his grip but when you don’t move away, just slightly humming as you continue to cook, he smiles, ever so slightly, tautening his hold.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he murmurs into your back, so quietly that you have a hard time hearing him. But you hear him. He buries his head into your back, inhaling your comforting scent. “Thank you.”

That’s when you realize that the future for the both of you would be much brighter from here on.