#I got better at muscles but still not quite there yet

[drago-gatta]

Just because he has short hair doesn't mean he is safe from having bedhair in the morning.

[ozzgin]

OZZ OMG OMG OMG THAT YANDERE PRISON THING OMG OMG OMG

*jitters with excitement*

I NEED MORE AHHHHH IT TICKLED MY BRAIN THE RIGHT AND WRONG WAY AT THE SAME TIME

Like if you're nice they'll just become your dogs and if you're not nice they'll give you a very rough foursome I'm down for either OMG OMG OMG help I have problems

To quote Markiplier: "I'm not a masochist, this is about power"

*drops dead*

*instantly revives*

Ahem, I saw you mention you might come up with small plots, so I'll do the logical thing to try to inspire you:

- clueless darling ask the leaders about their gangs and whatnot. Like nonchalantly. Because they're too nice darling thought it's no big deal lol

- darling subconsciously avoid blonde man (even tho he is my favourite hahah) after seeing him beat up the guy

- darling got drunk (somehow in a prison) and either gets horny (and try to let it out under the blankets forgetting they got roommates)or innocently touchy hugging all three of them and poking their unique features, sitting in their laps and so on. Or better yet, touches/approaches other inmates in front of the roommates...

content: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, NSFW below the cut!

Inmates are creative. They will always find a way around the rules, and this time it happened to be a rather clumsy attempt at brewing alcohol. Had this been discovered by a guard, whoever concocted the beverage would've landed in detention.

Instead, it was you who found it, innocently assuming someone must've forgotten their water behind. You gulped down the clear liquid, thirsty after you walk, then promptly grimaced at its unexpected bitterness.

Safe to say you're now quite drunk.

That in itself would already be troublesome enough, but another thing is endangering yours and everyone else's peace: you're in a particularly flirty mood.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The officer's smile drops instantly, and he turns towards the deep voice. One of your criminal roommates glares at the sight with hollow eyes. You were clinging to the officer's arm, a dumb grin plastered on your face. The man in uniform quickly shoves you aside, his features pale and drained.

"It wasn't me who started it," he pleads.

You're quickly picked up by your bunkie, who is still staring at the guard. He won't be leaving this prison alive, that's for sure. Now, however, his priorities lie somewhere else.

The hallway spins as you're being carried away, and you shamelessly cling to your ride, feeling and groping the muscles and tracing along his tattooed skin.

"My God, at least wait until we're back to our cell," he groans with flushed cheeks.

The blonde one is trying to play it cool. Come, now, you're obviously out of it. He needs to be mature and tuck you in, or something along the line.

Easier said than done, especially with a raging boner. You're quick to notice it, and you certainly don't hesitate to point it out, making lewd gestures with your hands as some sort of offer.

"Are you sure you won't regret it tomorrow?"

"Hey now, I'm drunk, not unconscious," you bark between hiccups.

He may have interrogated you further, but the thought of your pretty little mouth struggling to take him in is too much to bear. He's essentially drooling by the time he pats his knee for you to come over.

The pierced one drops you on your bed with a flat expression. Annoyance? A closer look at his pursed lips, and one can tell he's really just struggling to maintain his composure.

"Please, I really need to-"

You hold him back by the arm and bat your eyelashes. In return, he clicks his tongue. Is this some sort of test from above? His beloved Darling is essentially begging to be fingered. Yet, he shouldn't be taking advantage of your state. He shouldn't...

Too late. You gasp at his rough fingers making their way in.

"Alright, don't be too loud," he concludes with a faint smirk.

The masked one gently places you on your bed, then plants himself before you with crossed arms.

"Nonsense. You're drunk."

"I mean it", you repeat yourself.

He does his best to look imposing. Truth be told, his knees weakened from the moment "fuck me" slipped out of your mouth. He gladly would, but he has morals. Well, when it comes to you, anyways.

Your pout seems to suggest this would be a long standoff. He sighs, then pushes you back onto the mattress.

"How about this? I'll take care of it," he explains quietly, his cloth hovering above your groin. "I'll be awaiting your offer again once you're sober."

For now, his tongue will have to do.

[Yandere Prison] | [More Yandere Stories]

[moonlight-prose]

SWEETNESS OF THE DAMNED

a/n: this was a quick drabble at first, but somehow turned into an allegory for persophone and hades. which isn’t surprising for me given that i’m already plotting october fics. logan isn’t a monster in this, nor is he a vampire even though the vibe and title may give that off. i just really love gothic vibes in everything i write so who better to give it to than old man logan.

summary: when night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs.

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, p in v sex, alcohol consumption, allegories for persephone and hades, biting, scratching even though he heals, cumplay, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, older logan is so filthy i’m blushing.

The acrid embers of the fire burned your nose the deeper your breaths became. Red wine remained chocolatey and bitter on your tongue; the dinner you tried to eat quickly was now forgotten in favor of something else. You thought you could smell the cigar he smoked on the porch an hour ago on his bare skin. You couldn't.

Not when his fingers dug into your hips, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. He grunted with each slap of skin. The wet slick of how he pounded into you echoed loud and bright in the cabin.

You would have been embarrassed if it weren't for the sounds he let out. The way his eyes fell shut the closer you got to that fiery peak.

"C'mon baby," he sighed, ragged and needy. "I can feel ya."

Wine had gone to your head the second he poured you a third glass. Your red dress of crushed velvet lay in a heap on the floor. A pair of his jeans and a shirt beside it. The soft fabric of his flannel was smooth beneath your knees where he dropped it. Careful to keep your skin from going raw as he took you before dinner could even finish.

The alcohol is what brought this night to an early conclusion.

You already knew it would happen. Hoped for it on long days with hours that stretched for miles. Ached for his presence when you curled up in bed—the scent of his body still stuck on the cotton sheets. Logan promised to give you everything with a soft kiss at the door, his fingers gripping your chin to hold you there a minute longer. To slip his tongue past your maroon painted lips and lick along your teeth.

"'S too much," you garbled.

He laughed as you clenched around his leaking cock—tearing a deep moan from his chest. The heat of his body burned its way into yours where the fireplace couldn't reach. Each muscle and ridge along his stomach pressed into your back—his hips strong enough to break you slowed into punishing thrusts that bounced you on his thighs.

Time didn't exist; seasons began to blend into one.

The both of you resided where spring met summer and the shadow of night met fall's full moon. You wore a crown of wilted flowers—red spilling over your hands from where he asked you to bite into his skin. This was your damned hour. Your time of need.

You were the other half of an already broken soul, and he found that in your absence he couldn't hold it together for quite as long.

"You feel that?" His hand cupped your cunt—fingers spread around where he ended and you began. "She's leakin' for me baby."

"L-Logan," you gasped your throat thick with too many emotions.

The slow grind of his hips into yours sent your body hurtling towards yet another release. Your stomach was sticky where his other hand pressed - already coated in the three before. Holding onto the fraying pieces of your mind proved to be difficult when his teeth latched onto your shoulder. His fingers drew a shape around the edge of your throbbing clit.

His initials.

"You want another one don't ya honey?"

Yes. No. Please never fucking stop.

Instead all you could get out was a whine of his name. Your back arched into his hold, head pressed hard against his chest, as you fought to keep up with him. To grind against his lap and feel the drag of his cock along your walls.

"Yeah. You do," he murmured against your ear. "She wants to be good for me."

Down in the base of your stomach you felt the familiar pull of bliss begin to draw tight. You knew what came next. The rush of mind numbing pleasure trickled into your veins. Slowly drawing you higher with each stunted thrust—each echo of his fingers toying with your stretched cunt. You could count the seconds until it finally burst.

"I'm gonna–" The breath caught in your throat, hands clasping around his wrists as something shifted. "F-Fuck. Logan I'm–"

"Fuck yeah ya are," he grunted into your neck. "Gonna lick you clean after this. Get my fuckin' dessert."

His cock pounded deep against your walls, fingers pulling up the hood of your clit to circle rapidly against nerves that were already shot. And you sobbed his name. Your nails drew red angry marks on his arms that healed moments later; your body too fucking rigid and too hot to process what the fuck he was doing.

Elysium and the River Styx were ripping you apart. As if you were being pulled in two very different directions.

A clatter echoed beside you when he reached for your glass of wine, still stained with the now faded red of your lipstick. You felt his thigh shake—his cock twitching in the heat of your body. You wondered if this is what it felt like to burn alive. The sweet aching bliss of being held by your lover as he drowned you in the fire. Would this be how he took you to the Underworld?

The cold wash of wine spilled along your body as he poured out the remainder of the glass. His tongue quickly dragged across your blistering skin—drinking the cabernet off your body with a raspy groan of your name.

"'M almost there." He gripped the back of your neck and yanked you back with a kiss. His tongue plunging into your mouth—sharing the wine as his fingers pressed hard and fast against your swollen bud. "Give it to me huh? Fuckin' cum on my cock."

Your release ripped through your body with a scream. The echo of his name came back to you eventually, yet you couldn't figure out if you were the one saying it. With your nails piercing his skin, he felt you gush, choking his cock and milking him dry. A splatter of something wet landed on his thighs as he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still.

To bury himself as deep as he could go and finish with a blissful ragged groan against your shoulder. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over your spent body and you felt him fill you until it began to leak out. Coating the inside of your thighs.

"Are you breathing?" he chuckled, lips sliding along your neck to find your mouth.

You answered with a whimper. Which proved enough for him.

The stickiness of the wine began to dry against your bare body while his fingers dragged through the mixture of your cum that stuck to your thigh. He sighed—content and warm—as he lowered himself to the floor. His back pressed against your clothes and softening cock still buried in your dripping cunt.

"Speak to me bub." His fingers tapped your cheek, nose nudging against your jaw. "I can't have killed ya."

"You almost did," you mumbled, barely able to open your eyes.

Exhaustion sunk right down to your bones the longer you lay there wrapped in his arms. You knew the both of you should shower. Clean up and actually eat something in its entirety this time around. Logan would say the same if it weren't for the comforting press of your weight against his body. He cupped your breasts, thumbs toying with your peaked nipples, and kissed you with a sigh.

The both of you should say something to get the other moving. Yet neither of you did.

Instead you were met with silence and the crackle of the fire. Time, now a nonexistent variable to a night spent in each other's arms.

[immortaljai]

Good Talk.

1.5k Words, Smut, dirty talk, 3some, asshole behavior, porn w plot.

It was a weird family but it was your family. The amount of times the X-men tried to recruit you was sickening, Wade always in your ear about unicorns and his “Golden babys” all that you were used to. You never expected Wade to come home after his disappearance let alone with someone who seems to hate everyone. Logan was snarky, a drunk, and overall an asshole from the moment you met him.

He had this “lone wolf” batman shit going on with him, it confused you seeing Wade and him interact let along him living with you guys. You tried to avoid him as best as you could getting cursed at less then Wade but it irritated you how he hated you when you did nothing primarily to Logan other than have your tomfoolery jokes with Wade.

You really should have noticed the heated gazes, the close proximity and the borderline degrading words, Logan wanted nothing to do with you for a reason. With Wade it was different he was always..touchy always close especially when he was hurt one smaller cut off healing arm waving at Logan and one hand on your waist a bit close to your bottom as you faced him cleaning the blood off his face. If only you looked behind you to see the irritated flustered mess Logan was, truly explains why Wade laughed louder.

You’re a clueless thing indeed, how could you not have noticed Logans brushing up against you as you argue about how onions should be cut “You know what fork hands maybe if you pulled weight around here and cooked your own fucking meals you wouldnt have so much to complain about” the chopping board making loud noises as you slides irritatedly Wade was long gone getting the “Powdered donuts” for Blind Al so he really had no idea what was going down Al decided long before to leave the apartment.

“You have knifes for hands use them” you snarkily said with an eyeroll “You got a fuckin’ smart mouth you better watch it” he growled in your ear still hovering, he snatched the knife out of your hand standing behind you cutting the onions himself “Ya’ see? Maybe if you didnt run your fuckin’ mouth so much you’d learn something” that made your anger flare quickly exhaling through your nose “Maybe if you didnt fuck up what you had, you wouldnt be here and id be asshole babysitting free” the kitchen went silent as the slicing ceased you could hear him breathing lightly behind you. The knife clatted on the cutting board as he leaned down his nose touching your shoulder, his breathing on your lower back “Ya wanna repeat that?” 

You nearly shat yourself as you stuttered out or tried to stutter out an apology, however that was cut short due to Wade coming through the door “MARVEL JESUS IS BACK” you never thought you'd be so happy to hear that name quickly and swiftly moving from Logans trapped arms and running to the door “Heeeey red” you said side smile on your face as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding “Hi sweet face, where is Whiskey dick” a grunt came from behind you knowing it was logan you paid no mind to him, as Wades eyes widen “Theses my muscle man oh you look angry i think my bone is rising” you rolled your eyes a smirk on your face as you turned to look at logan “M’ not pissed, not in the slightest” he said gruffly a beer in his hands leaning on the doorway his heated gaze on you.

Wade's eyes widened as he raised his non-existent eyebrows “Ohhh what happened while i was gone- clothes are still on” that made you scoff lightly folding your arms as you walked away from the kitchen “Dinners nearly ready” Logan said staring at Wade as you disappeared. Wade smirked walking up to Logan quite closely “So..what happened between you and sweet cheeks” Logan looked at Wade with slight uninterest “She’s got a mouth” “That can be used properly” Wade replied quickly with a smirk “Your disgusting” Logan said pinching his nose “And yet here you are a boner cause of an attitude- you pervert” 

Dinner was as usual loud, friends over as if it was a celebration, Logan in the corner watching keeping a close eye on his self proclaimed daughter a drink in hand as usual, he manspread slightly catching your gaze landing on his lap before away again, his eyes however were already on you, maybe it was the buzz, maybe it was his hormones but you looked..nice..better then nice even. Throughout the night he moved closer to you, from the chair, then next to Laura, then in the end you were in the middle of him and Wade.

Wade's arm around your waist from the moment he closed in, his eyes moving from the cleavage your shirt gave as he talked to you, his eyes taking in you completely licking his lower lip, he noticed Logan moving in and he smirked to himself. “Go get my board game for me sweet cheeks” Wade whispered to you winking to Logan, he gave Wade a blank face before taking a long swig of his drink.

You entered his room, it was cluttered as you huffed looking through his things, tossing things behind you “Where the fu-'' your sentence  was cut short as you were pushed and pinned agaist the bed a heavyweight pushed against your back before a hand came to cover your mouth “Smart mouth..” Logan whispered in your ear you blushed deeply at the bulge pressed against you and the husky voice behind you “M’ gonna need you to listen to me, there's about 6 people in the house..i'm gonna need you to be quiet” you didn't need to be told twice nodding your head slowly.

That was all he needed his hands moving up your pants pulling them down slightly his fingers reading you through your underwear “L-at that, soaked been thinking bout this?” you were pre occupied your face pressed into the sheets whimpers coming from you, that made him chuckle his pants swiftly being pulled down as his tip nudged between your core and your underwear making him sigh deeply before pulling back your slick being pulled with each drag of his hips “This- jus’ gonna have to do for now” he said fucking your thighs, his hand moving to grab your throat to lift your head, the door opened making your eyes widen as you looked back seeing Wade. 

“Fuckin knew it- you guys left me out” he frowned as he started removing his pants quickly “Dumbass- you gave me the hint” Logan groaned into your ear his pace not slowing, his tip brushing your clit perfectly with each drag of his hips, your ass jiggling each time. Wade smirked as he sat in front of you his legs opening “Hi sweet cheeks- im sorry to ask this..given your state but-” he grabbed your hair using your open mouth as a fleshlight as he sighed in content “Yeah..thats better” Wade was bigger then any male you sucked off and it didnt help thst Logan wasnt letting up, you quickly found a rhythm from sucking Wade using your hand to stroke what couldnt fit sucking his tip harshly making his eyes roll back “F-fuck yea- like a lolipop sweet face” his head thrown back as he softly rocked his hips in your mouth, Logan hand reaching up to grab his balls “There you go smart mouth, make the idiot cum” he said whispering in your ear speeding up his precum coating your cunt. Your eyes rolling back as you tried your best to deep throat Wade while stroking his cock “Ohh-Ohhh yea im about to paint the entire room white like marble-” Wades eyes squeezed shut as he held your head down moving it once, twice, three times before blowing his load down your throat and falling back his chest heaving as you swallowed it all licking his tip clean. 

Behind you, you heard a snicker as your face was pushed down into the pillow and a dick was inserted into you Logans pace started off uncaring as he used you as if you were a doll slamming you up and down as his hand rapidly rubbed at your bud “Yea- I don't see you talking now do I?” he chuckled at your muffled moans crudely his chest making contact with your back as he groaned “Fuck..cmon cum doll, cum for your asshole” he whispered in your ear making your mouth fall open as you screamed in the pillow your vision going white as you painted his cock white, triggering his own orgasm as he stuffed you full thrusting a few more times before pulling out pulling your underwear up making sure it all stayed in. Wade’s eyes crinkled into a smile seeing your fucked out face “We gotta get up doll- they gonna start speculating” however you could barely hear let along talk so you nodded dumbly 

That made them chuckle lightly as they stood up Logan stuffing his cock into his pants as Wade put back on his pants “Guess we tell them she fell asleep?” Wade asked “I don’t give a shit” Logan said walking out with a smirk leaving you in your slutted out state 

“Good night sweet cheeks” 

Still feral thanks for cumming.

[tyunniez]

golden retriver... bttm male reader

!!.. golden retriever bsf, yn is slightly tipsy but still fully aware, rough sex, creampie, grinding.

if your best friend is a dog type he would be a golden retriever.

he's quite literally the embodiment of it. everywhere you go he follows behind, a happy smile plastered on his face. he was almost like a lost puppy.

he also loves taking care of you and doing things for you every chance he gets, even things you could do yourself!

" yn, good morning! here, i got you your favorite drink. " he practically shoved said drink into your hand, your half-asleep state still trying to comprehend your surroundings.

" huh.. oh hey. thanks... " you groggily said, stepping away from the door and heading towards the bathroom to freshen yourself up. he let himself into your place, already familiar with it.

you came back to see him cooking your breakfast, humming a soft tune while placing your eggs on the plate. " yn, come sit down. "

you sighed while taking a sit on the stool of your island, your eyes boring into his back as you watched him lightly sway to the song he was humming.

" you know you don't need to cook me breakfast almost every day right? " you cracked open the drink he bought you and took a big gulp, already feeling rejuvenated by the drink.

he hummed and placed the breakfast in front of you, sliding his own portion next to yours. " eat up! "

after the delicious breakfast, came the time for you to do your house chores. you got up and grabbed both of his and yours plated, bringing it to the sink to clean it.

only for him to snatch it from you and wash it himself. along with the stacks of dirty dishes in your sink. you only rolled your eyes and walked away to do other stuff, knowing fighting against him would just be useless.

" so any plans today? " you asked him while folding your remaining laundry, him soon joining you. " ..mm nah. what's up? " he folded the last article of clothing and lay beside you, opting to place his head on your thigh.

your hand found its place in his hair almost immediately as if it was muscle memory. " well that one show that I've been wanting to watch finally dropped so.. beer and chicken tonight? "

he snickered below you, " you already know my answer, of course! "

and so, cans after cans of beer later and some delicious fried chicken, the both of you lay in each other embrace. the two of you weren't all that drunk because of your high alcohol tolerance yet you find yourself struggling to focus on the show.

were you actually drunk or is it because of the way your best friend is holding onto you right now?

you knew it was pretty common for best friends to cuddle but the way his big hand is cradling your waist right now along with his other hand right under your ass, his finger slightly touching it, is making your head spin.

not to mention his growing hard-on that you could literally feel since you were on top of him!

and you didn't know if there was something in the air last night or if tipsy you were just bolder but you decided to slowly grind against him causing him to have a full-on boner.

he on the other hand decided to ignore it and tried to focus on the movie in front of him.

you pouted at this and decided to continue grinding on him, trying to chase your own climax and also attempting to drive him over the edge.

but a firm hand grabbed onto both of your thighs, causing you to stop. " what do you think you're doing, yn? " he asked you, his voice way deeper than usual.

" i think you know what i'm doing. so stop playing dumb and give me what i want. " your voice is adamant, as your hands roam his chest.

he smirked and flipped the two of you, him now on top of you. both of his hands caged you in, making you more turned on than you already were.

" you better not regret saying that. "

" ahn! s-slow down! " you mewled out while gripping his biceps. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your dick twitched. your release finally comes soon after. the milky white substance staining your already cum stained stomach.

" again? we've barely just started, yn. " he chuckled above you. he loved seeing how overstimulated you look right now. he's been dreaming of making you a mess for a long time now.

when you first started grinding into him you didn't expect to get dicked down immediately by your own best friend and after experiencing just how rough he actually is, well, you're not complaining.

just seeing the desperate look on your face is making him go crazy. he's been dreaming about this moment for a long time.

he wondered just how you look like when he's on top of you, making a mess out of you. how do you look when you're overstimulated beyond your limit all because of him. just what type of sounds will pour out of you while he's deep inside of you.

and oh, this exceeds his expectations.

" mmh, yn. you look so pretty right now. " he sighed into your ear, his voice sending shivers up and down his spine. " i'm sure you can handle a few more rounds, yeah? " he gripped your hips again, getting ready to abuse your already puffy hole.

" no! i-i can't cum anymore-! " your whining was cut off by his harsh thrust, your tired voice seeming to be the cause.

you hooked your arms around his neck as a way to support yourself. loud moans escaped from your mouth, this only leading him to go faster. " fuck.. i-im cumming soon yn. "

your hole tightened as you heard his husky voice next to you, the hint of whining in his voice making you shake. " come inside me! p-please! need you in me so bad! "

he grunted out loud, his thrust soon stuttering and slowing down. " yn, fuck. you don't know how long i have been waiting for this.. "

with one last thrust, white soon painted your inside. his warm cum kept flowing more and more into your hole, making your own cum squirt out of your cock.

he immediately devoured you in a kiss, saliva dribbling everywhere. wet squelching sound enveloped the room accompanied by your heavy breathing. the movie that was long forgotten acting as white noise.

he separated himself from you to admire you and the mess he made of you. he smiles as he sees all the bite marks and hickeys littering around your body. the cum seeping out of your hole only made his dick hard again.

" shit.. i don't think i can let you go after this, yn. "

[yandere-sins]

Kicking my feet and twirling my hair at your yandere König and Ghost headcanons💕 could I request some headcanons on how they'd react at escape attempts/successful escapes please?

Of course! Thanks for requesting! ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

König

♡ One word: panic. It's not a slowly developing feeling, either. When he can't find you in your room, his stomach twists as he waltzes into the bathroom instead. At this point, his pulse begins ringing in his ears, and his breaths come out as slow pushes of air. König realizes how wrong his home feels, how there's no sign of you there, and the panic that overcomes him is just about to explode like a grenade on the battlefield—it builds up and then peng! It's too quiet, too cold, and the thought of you having left is one of pure horror. If anyone would measure his tension, his body would break all means of detecting it, every muscle so taut they could snap at any given moment, and every one of his movements deliberate and deadly. König tries to think about what he's done wrong and why you'd do this to him, but he manages to push these thoughts aside for later. He needs to focus, needs to keep his wits up. Part of him hopes you didn't leave him because you wanted to. Another part hopes very much that you weren't forced to leave him just to spare you from the horrors that you could possibly encounter because of that. Then again, if someone was as bold as to kidnap you, König would at least have an outlet for all the rage, frustration, and madness he is feeling; the thought of breaking some bones suddenly so tempting.

♡ And yet, König is never more in control than in moments like this. Despite his panic and anxiety about losing you, he could never concentrate better than now that he has to get you back. And he has to; he needs to. Needs you. His life is meaningless without you in it, and he needs to cradle you in his arms and know you're okay just so he can fucking breathe again. He has his means of finding out where you are and is not shy about using them. You'll come to dread the day you got stalked by someone so big and tall that it should have been impossible. But once he's behind you, your escape is over, and with it, any other possibility that you'll ever be able to try again. If he has to put you in an underground bunker, tied up and unable to do anything without him, then so be it. But König can't lose you again. He might as well die if you ever manage to get away. Ultimately, it will be his tense, unyielding hands dragging you back, even as he coos sweet promises into your ear. That everything will be okay now, that he'll protect you. But he'll be much more possessive and needy after your attempt, and you only have yourself to blame for what he's going to do with you once he has you back in the safety of his arms.

Ghost

♡ Physically, you might already be far, far away from Ghost. Yet, you can still feel his disappointment and hear him sigh, even if it's all just subconsciously. There's something especially bitter about the fact he went out to get you some nice food you like, thinking about how much he'll enjoy watching you eat it on his way back and imaging the taste on your lips as he steals kisses from you, only to come back to this. Nothing. Emptiness and the remains of his heart getting shredded by explosive bangs of heartache. He thought things were improving between you two, but that escape was on him. He shouldn't have trusted you quite this much, though it really fucking hurts that you did it. He's been good to you, hasn't he? Loved you well, fucked you well, spent all his damn money to make you comfortable. You can run all you want, but you can't deny the few times you leaned in for a cuddle—even if it was subconsciously—or asked him for something, and he got it for you without thinking twice. You might think running is the right option, but are you even aware of what you're running away from? By all means, he was a perfect partner (aside from forcing you into this relationship, but it was for the greater good of you both being together). And yet, you'd betray him like this. Run away when things get rough. When they aren't up to your standards. Ghost must have spoiled you rotten, eh? Pity because he won't make the same mistakes twice.

♡ Ghost doesn't need anyone or anything to track you down. He might have a tracker on you, part of him always admiring your rebellious nature and knowing the day would come, but he knows you. He knows you too well. He studied your thoughts like no one else, perhaps knowing even better than you what you're thinking. And though he's gripping the steering wheel of the car he's using to catch up to you, to the point of either his fingers or the material they're wrapped around cracking, when he does find you, he's eerily calm. He knew the way you'd run, knew which bushes you'd hide behind, and now that he caught up, you really have no choice but to surrender. Ghost wouldn't let you win in a fight on his good days, much less days ruined by your idiocity. So you can choose to get in defeatedly or have him drag you into the car with no guarantee he won't hurt you. It's not like your tears leave him cold. The dead look on your face or how you jerk when he brushes your hair back, feeling like ice picks stabbed into his heart. He hates arguing with you. He hates being angry with you. It's on you this time, though. But at least, if you're cooperative, the only way he'll let you know how mad he is, is by holding your thigh in his hand on the drive, gripping it painfully rigid as he drives you two back, thinking about whether or not to break your leg as a lesson. No promises on if he will act on these thoughts, though—you really messed up this time and deserve the lesson, don't you? Better start appeasing him before you get home, and he gets to have you all to himself again, just like he always wanted.

[nepenthendline]

a/n: todoroki feeling horny for the first time, no smut but can do a pt 2?

Todoroki had been much clingier than usual today, like a cat somehow always slinking his was close to you. Most of your day was spent cuddling on his couch watching documentaries, and his grip on you was tight. Whenever you shuffled or got up to grab a drink or snack, you could see the little pout on his lips as he held his arms out to you and asked where you were going. He was so cute like this, but it was a little different than usual.

"You ok, baby?" You ask, cupping his cheeks in your hands once you settled back into his arms. He pondered for a moment,

'Yes, I think, but I feel a little...off,' his response was quiet, and his fingers continued to brush over your waist. Your head tilted slightly, looking over him for any obvious signs of pain or sickness,

"In what way?" His eyes looked off to the side - you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to put his feelings into words.

"I feel... warmer than usual, my muscles feel tense, sometimes it feels like I'm struggling to breathe, and there's a...weird feeling in my stomach. Perhaps I'm getting sick," you let put an exaggerated pout as you combed your fingers through his hair before kissing his forehead - he did feel quite warm, but there was no fever.

"My poor baby," you stroked his cheeks in urge to comfort him, however, his face tensed under your touch, and he let out a hum.

"That..." he muttered, more to himself than to you. He brought one hand to his chin in thought, " I thought resting today with you would help my symptoms, but they seem to be getting worse," your brows furrowed at his words, but your urged him to continue. "Well, worse, but also better. The symptoms are stronger, but having you close makes me feel relieved in a way." You couldn't help but smile. Even whilst sick, he was still adorable. What he said next, however, surprised you.

"Feel like...I need you, even though you're already here. Feels like you're not close enough,' he murmured into his hand, still looking away.

Oh-OH. You started giggling in response - the two of you had been together for a few months, but you knew Shoto hadn't had any relationships before you. In fact, he often reminded you that you were the first person to ever make him feel the way he does.

His eyes darted back to you with confusion taking over his face. "Have you felt like this before?" You question with a grin. His eyes wavered, before nodding.

"Yes, although the symptoms weren't as strong as now. Like when you were cooking the other day in those cute pajamas, or on our date last week, and when you kiss me," he was clueless. He thought he was sick and yet every memory included you. Your giggles continued.

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you that you're not sick," his eyes widened slightly, nodding for you to continue, "you're horny, my love." He let out a quiet ah and sat in silence for a moment before speaking up.

"Like Mineta..." his deapan voice made you cackle, even though you knew he was trying to gauge his feelings by comparing them to something else. "Except, I only feel like this with you," your cheeks warmed at his words. He's always been a charmer, mostly by accident. He speaks what is on his mind so bluntly, and yet it never ceases to fluster you. You lean forward and press a soft kiss on his lips.

"I can make you feel better if you'd like?" His eyes burned into yours as he rested his forehead against yours. After a few moments, he spoke,

"Yes, please."

[fyodior]

toji x afab!reader. 18+, mdni!!! size kink (huge dick toji agenda), missionary, tummy bulge

“t-toji, it’s not gonna fit,” you cry out, groaning in pain. the ring of muscle at your opening was stretched taut and throbbing just with the tip, and you seriously doubted it would accommodate the thickest part of his length.

toji only grunts in frustration. this wasn’t the first time the two of you had attempted going all the way, but you always tapped out when the pain of his obscenely thick, long cock got too much to bear. sometimes it wasn’t even the pain, the muscles just physically were unable to stretch enough to welcome him.

at this point there was nothing toji wanted more than to fuck you stupid and was praying this would be the time it worked, but he clearly was wrong. he had spent over half an hour eating you out, fingering you, and stretching you out with toys in preparation, and yet you still were struggling.

“just relax, baby, it’s okay,” toji coos, working hard to maintain his composure and not let his primitive side take over. it would be so easy to just shove your panties in your mouth, pin you down, and use his profuse strength to force himself in anyway, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “the more you tense up, the harder it’s gonna be, right?”

toji fushiguro wasn’t quite known for his patience, grace, and kindness, but you were and forever would be his one exception. the one he never wanted to hurt.

one thick hand rubs your waist gently as he uses the other to hover over you, piercing green eyes meeting yours in silent encouragement. the scar that ran perpendicularly through his lips warped as he offers you a small smile. “you can take me, love, i know you can. let’s take some deep breaths.”

you nod against the pillows, hand finding the one on your waist to intertwine your fingers together. your gazes meet once again to inhale and exhale in tandem.

“good girl,” toji praises, taking advantage of your mellowing demeanor to spread your legs impossibly wider and allow himself even better entry.

after three big, deep breaths, you almost tense up as you felt his tip prod against your cunt again, but toji squeezes your hand.

“breathe. stay relaxed. you can do it.”

“i can do it,” you parrot, nodding once again.

toji peppers sweet kisses up your neck and on your cheeks as he cautiously slid his cock into your hole, kissing away your quiet moans of pain and encouraging you to keep breathing. you do as you’re told, despite feeling the burn double with every centimeter of his length that entered you - but suddenly, pleasure blooms.

he must’ve finally hit the spot he only ever had with his fingers before, and your eyes go wide, keening as you moan unexpectedly. toji grins and takes the opportunity to sink his cock all the way in, growling as he finally, finally bottoms out. the feeling of his cock being completely enveloped and squeezed by your tight heat was something he had resigned to only experiencing in his fantasies, but it had become reality.

you were a crying mess, overwhelmed as you felt you were being torn in two while also feeling the shocks of pleasure that came from being filled to the brim. the puff of hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit as he fought to keep his hips stilled, making you gasp and whimper, wanting to hump against it.

“so fucking big, toji, can’t take it,” you cried, hands fisting the sheets and legs circling his waist.

“but you’re taking it already, baby, look,” he smiles, pressing a hand against your pelvis. peering down, you see what he’s talking about - a bulge had formed in your lower tummy, growing as toji angled his hips up and thrusted in just the tiniest bit more. “you like that?”

a smile lights up your face as you nod, proud of yourself. “good girl,” he coos once again.

the burn persists despite it all, but it’s drowned out by toji’s expert thrusts that hit all the right spots as he massages your clit, and soon, nothing could ever feel more right than being filled so full of your lover’s cock you can barely breathe.

“more, toji, more!”

[caraphernellie]

ephemeral.

for your information: author!abby x editor!fem!reader. professionals with a very strained relationship. abby and reader drinking a little but completely coherent + sober still. haters-to-lovers, semi-public, outdoor sex. bratty!reader. fingering (r!receiving). steamy make out session. clichés ahead. pet names used: baby, good girl, various insults tbh. 2.8K WC.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑, had this idea for like, a whole year now. oops. just love autumnal/dark academia type shit and abby is my favourite bookworm. abby picture by @/tpicsl on pinterest. MASTERLIST.

Creativity is fickle. Abby knows it better than anyone.

Her mind is her greatest asset. It is a hidden strength; everybody thinks they have her figured out just by glancing at her. The woman is built of brawn and steadily-sculpted muscle, but it is merely a peek into her real power.

Abby's appearance is a reflection of dedication, an application of self-discipline trained over many moons.

Her brain is her might. Her will to excel. It is a library of all the things she has loved, words she has read, stories she has heard.

And the result is an author of applaudable talent. Yet, her reputation precedes her—she is not easy to work with.

Abby has published four books so far in her career, but she's been through twice the amount of editors in that time. Nothing could ever stunt her rise to fame, no matter how many claims were made against the woman's cocky, self-gratified nature. Abby Anderson is a household name.

But as her most long-standing editor, you must agree with the rumours. Working for Abby is a living nightmare.

Creativity is fickle. Abby refuses to let anybody impede on her artistry. If they do not see her vision, she will throw a fit. Writing is her gift, and god forbid someone attempts to critique it. She rejects all common writing advice—should anyone attempt to tell her to 'kill her darlings', Abby will send back a heated, passive aggressive email.

You let her have her freedom. That is the difference between you and other editors. Perhaps they don't see the vision like you do, and absolutely not like Abby does. You will remove what is only necessary, and maybe there are small disagreements every so often, but you have proven yourself to have the wit that matches Abby's perplexity.

You do not leech on her—sucking the life and rareness out of her words, only to brag and drag her name through the mud. Even Abby will admit that you are the most pleasant editor to work with.

But god, she almost burnt you out.

Impossible deadlines, communicating at only the most iniquitous hours. Whether it was a high-priority email at midnight or two-thousand words to be read and fixed by the end of the day, she was a prick. On purpose.

And why? Well, even though your furious emails would raise her hackles, she began to realise she actually enjoyed reading them. You've got quite the attitude. It certainly tickles her dry sense of humour, after all. Everything you say is professional, so as to not raise alarm, but it's laced with just enough venom to sting.

Her personal favourite email, which she immediately starred, is the one in which you were complaining about her constantly quoting you in her own book.

'Miss Anderson, I do not find you as funny as you think you are. I would like to be taken seriously when I voice my concerns about your ill-treatment of my service, as flattering as it may be that I have inspired your work. 'Please see attached the edited draft as requested.  'P.S. I do believe you ought to get some sleep. Sending a draft at 03:30 is not acceptable.'

It's just not fiery enough to halt her efforts.

Somehow, you made it out alive. Pulled yourself out of quicksand with that heavy load on your back. You have lived long enough to be present tonight.

Today marks the highly anticipated release of Abby Anderson's fifth release, her newest standalone title following her critically acclaimed series. Many reviews seem to say she just keeps getting better, while others written in unkempt fury detest her for writing in a way that feels almost pretentious nowadays.

Abby's clearly had a day full of bustling conversation, hundreds of well wishes. She signed so many copies of her book that her wrist aches of overuse. She made it through, thank goodness, and the hour of relaxation has finally arrived.

The release party.

Who doesn't love a party? A warm celebration filled with prideful chit-chat, her family and friends, and competitors masking their envy with tight-lipped smiles and side-eyes.

All that and a splash of champagne to take the edge off.

Your heels crunch flaxen leaves in your path to the door, streams of fading sunlight painting the yacht club in warm golds and gingers. It's a remotely calm evening save for the seaside breeze. The trees whistle and you can hear the faint sound of pastoral waves clashing with the cliffside.

Your inner-voice begs for a few moments more stood outside the party. You could give yourself some grace, a fleeting moment to prepare for the questioning and disrespect you'll receive.

You think back to a charity event Abby hosted once. You met a man who spoke with blatant indiscretion about Abby's writing, and admittedly your ego was bruised as much as Abby's would have been. He had watched you argue your point, and when you finished, the man parted his lips to ask, 'who are you?'

Her fucking editor, that's who. Only one who'll put up with her.

It would help if Abby would stop acting like she doesn't know you.

You don't expect flowers, nor praise. She wrote those books by herself. But a tree cannot grow without proper care. If her words were sowing the seeds, you were watering them.

If only Abby could take the stick from her ass and so kindly acknowledge the sweat and tears you put into dealing with her.

Light disappears into the horizon and the moon has risen. These cocktail parties were never your style. It isn't a wild bender, nor is it a classy and quiet event. It's just somewhere between that.

Networking.

It's tedious, dreadful. If you don't catch their attention within the first seconds of the conversation, you won't make that connection. First impressions are everything, and unfortunately, you struggle to be as charming as the others in this room.

"Well, well, well. Look who showed up."

Her eyes have wandered to you for the past two hours, not as discreet as she thought she was being. It seems Abby has finally found the time to pull away from big-wig publishers and authors to finally seek you out.

"I almost thought you were gonna pull the same shit as last time 'n hide all night."

"You wish." Your voice is dry and quick, always straight to the point. "Makes no difference if I stay in the shadows or hang around the others. You'll ignore me anyway."

"No," Abby murmurs, a scrunched up scowl on her face now. It's far from hateful, and directed more towards herself than you. "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

"Mhm."

"You know what I just.. love?" Abby asks, head tilted towards you. You are a thief to Abby's attention no matter where or when, but regret to realise that. "You are just as hard to deal with in person as you are over email. It's really authentic."

"Ah." You give a curt nod, taking a short sip of wine, and notice the way her eyes track the movement. They linger over your lips, struggling to tear away. "I am glad you think so. I like to keep it real."

She scoffs, short and breathy. "Yeah. It's real lovely."

Abby enjoys the way you match her energy. She enjoys it too much.

"So, did you come here to say anything worthwhile, or are you just polite enough to greet all your guests?"

Her face doesn't change—her smile remains intact, but it's the twitch of her eye that forces a soft chuckle past your lips.

"Yeah, actually. You know, I was getting there." Abby's indignant reply is masked with a pleasant tone, one that irks you. She doesn't know how to act any way but sarcastically with you. She could say the smallest thing, but it gets on your nerves. You're not the most proud of how reactive you are to Abby's behaviour. "You know, some sappy shit about how helpful you are. But I might keep it to myself now."

"Makes no difference to me," you say with a shrug of your shoulders. Actually, it would be nice to hear what she has to say. "You couldn't be genuine with me if you tried."

"You know what? Let's go." Abby takes and sets your glass down on a nearby table for you, hand wrapping firm around your wrist. "I have some things to say to you that I'd rather others don't hear."

"Can't wait," you mutter, anticipating what, from past experience, can only be referred to as a sour exchange of words.

Abby drops your hand to get the door with the most cocky grin you've seen on her face in a long time. "Ladies first."

The French doors lead to a round balcony that overlooks the water. As you step outside you feel a wave of relaxation overcome you. The ocean is calm, the breeze from earlier has filtered away into a still, but cold, night. The only sounds you can hear are muffled chatter and music from inside.

"Alright." You clasp your hands together and bat your lashes. "What was it you had to say? Don't forget to raise your voice this time."

"Y'know, I actually wasn't planning on yelling at you," Abby says in a gritty voice, stepping closer. "But if you keep trying to get smart with me, I may reconsider."

"Oh, of course. I hope you do. It's a pleasant sound."

"I— Stop talking."

Without you having realised, she's backed you into a corner. Your hands grasp the stone fence of the balcony tightly, looking away until she tugs your jaw closer.

"I wanted to actually say something nice. You know, a sorry for being a cunt. A thank you for putting up with me. I wouldn't have half the success I have if it weren't for you."

"Oh."

It's simply unexpected. It isn't an out-of-this-world idea for Abby to be sincere, of course not. But her confidence is often mistaken for pure arrogance. You just didn't think she could tone down her ego enough for something like this. Not at a release party, at least—this whole shebang is meant to be celebrating her.

"I didn't know how to show you I actually appreciate your work," Abby continues, "I thought about flowers... a letter... you know, for an author, it was ridiculously hard to put some words down. And I wanted to avoid cliché. So I wanted to personally talk to you about it."

"You know, this is actually leaning further into cliché territory than a letter?" You muse, only with the intention of making this slightly less awkward.

Considering Abby is usually the one to let her eyes wander, right now, you are the one who can't pull their eyes away. Her shirt fits her far too perfectly for your liking. Her eyes, electric blue and staring sharply enough to cut you—they're perfect. And you hate it.

"Oh yeah?" Abby huffs, her palm flat on the fence behind you. She's caged you in. "Why's that?"

"Because you look like you're about to kiss me."

She falters for a moment, sheer surprise on her face. Oh, come on. She can't be that clueless to her own desires, can she?

"You wish."

"Well if you don't kiss me, I'm going to kiss you."

"What? Because I said one kind thing to you? Are you really that easy?" Abby lets out a quiet laugh in disbelief, perhaps a bit of shock too—you've thrown her off balance.

"You are the one who's not-so-subtly stared at my lips all night," you point out. "So I think you need to find your own answer to your question."

Jesus, you make Abby actually think sometimes. Interacting with you is different—her wit is matched for once, you indulge in the same dry sarcasm, you're actually fucking intelligent.

But what irritates her is the way you have such a great read on her.

"What I need is for you to shut up and let me be nice to you for once."

"God, you write your own clichés so much you'd think you would have seen this coming." You meet her eyes with that of a mischievous look in your own, lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Make me."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Screw it.

Her lips are on yours. Her hands settle over your hips. It's warm—incendiary, even. The autumn chill takes a backseat as she kisses you once, twice, and once more.

She stays close enough for your breaths to mingle, lips a hair's breadth away from each other now.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" You murmur. Abby scoffs softly.

"I hate you."

"I don't think that's right."

"No?"

"You're welcome to walk away right now, if you hate me so much."

There is not a chance that's going to happen. Even below the faint blue moonlight, you can see how rosy her cheeks have turned. Not a chance. She's staying right here.

"I thought a kiss was supposed to make you shut up," Abby grumbles.

"Oh, ha, sorry." You aren't sorry in the slightest. That coy smile is going to be the death of her. Who knew little old you would have the upper hand right now? "You can try again, if you'd like."

"Right."

It's as desperate and fiery as before, yet not as ephemeral. She's captured your words with her lips, her hands unceasingly moving along your figure. She touches and grabs everywhere that she can reach. You cup the back of her head and pull her closer as you sit on the balcony fence.

That stresses her out the slightest bit. It's a precarious position, on a high place, no less. But she simply takes it as an opportunity to splay her palm over your ass, 'keeping you from falling off.'

"Here's the deal." Abby attempts to command you, but wandering lips are staining her throat in lipstick and, plain and simply, she whimpers her words. "You're gonna watch that door and tell me if someone's comin'."

"Mhm."

Your mouth seeks her freckled collarbone, so tauntingly visible beneath her shirt. She always leaves the first few buttons undone. You've controlled yourself so well all this time, you deserve to taste the salt of her skin there.

And Abby's fumbling with the button of your pants. They fit you so well. They hug your body just right, flaring at the ankles. They hug her attention, too.

"Coast is clear?" Abby whispers. Her hand is painfully close to where she wants to be, buried into your cunt, but she just can't without the confirmation that you won't be caught in your little escapade.

You peek over Abby's shoulder. The party is still bustling inside, not a soul seeming concerned with the balcony.

"It's clear."

"Thank god."

Abby's hand slides beneath your panties finally. She's amused with the way you spread your thighs wider to accommodate her, your legs wrapping around her waist now.

"That's a good girl," she mumbles, fingers gathering some of your wetness. She nearly shudders at how fucking hot all of this is. You, your stuttered breath, and the thrill of fucking you somewhere so public. "Shh-shh."

Two fingers push past your folds and your hands grip her broadened shoulders. It's a stretch, those thick fingers stuffed pretty inside you, but the feeling is more than welcome.

"Fuck, Abs."

"I know, just be quiet."

Her fingers begin to move, slow at first as she tests the waters, and gradually it reaches a faster pace. Your sounds are even better than she could have anticipated they'd be. Gentle, short moans. So, so cute, and all for her ears' pleasure only.

"Open those eyes, baby. You need to keep watch."

You do your best. You force your eyes open and stare at the blurry door behind Abby.

Her digits reach in deep, they stretch you wide, and her thumb laves over your clit simultaneously. She feels the tension build in your body. Your fingers bruise her shoulders, your legs tremble, and you muffle your rising volume by hiding in the crook of her neck.

"C'mon, baby," Abby encourages, her free hand groping and squeezing your butt. "Gonna cum for me?"

She has finally conquered your attitude. Left you unable to do anything but moan, and fuck, your legs feel like jelly now. She revels in your jittering, in the clenching of your hole around her fingers.

"Good girl." The praise, sweetened further by that smooth voice, leaves you reeling. And like the prick she is, she just has to use your own words back at you. "Wasn't that hard to shut up, was it? You did so good for me."

You hum tiredly in response, weak fingers fastening your trousers again. "I hate you."

"Hate me enough to come home with me?"

Ha.

"Of course."

[soxcietyy]

Anatomy

Gojo x reader

18 + You’re about to take one of the most important exams. Unfortunately you suck at your anatomy and need to learn the material fast. Luck for you Gojo is good at everything, not only that but he’s also a teacher. Soon you learn about his odd teaching techniques.

"I don’t think I’ll be able to pass this test." You groan as you drink your coffee Shoko had bought you.

You were out with the two of your friends so they could cheer you up. As a healer you had to go the health care route in your studies but it wasn’t so simple.

"Why don’t you just cheat? Shoko is cheating!" Gojo looks at her before returning his gaze back at you.

You let out a deep sign as you slouch in your chair.

Just because she’s cheating doesn’t mean you should too. She’s had some good memory so it was easy to learn everything for her. Unlike you who had to actually go study for it.

Shoko said she would help you cheat through the homework, quizzes, project but you where on your own for the final exam. If you wanted to graduate at the same time as her then you would have to ace this anatomy exam tomorrow.

You felt too scared to cheat. What if you were caught? You would be academically expelled!

You groan loudly before looking up at your friends who had worried expressions.

"How bad do you guys think I’m going to do?" You ask.

"Fail"

"You’ll be fine"

They both said at the same time. Shoko elbows Gojo and then proceeds to grab your hands.

"Just study hard. I would love to help but I have a mission to go on but…" she turns to look at Gojo who was biting his biscuit. "But Gojo here is a teacher now."

Ah right, that moron did take up a teaching job right after graduating. Now that you think about it Shoko might be right. He’s a teacher! His job is to teach material to students. He could help you learn everything you need to. Not only that but he was good at everything he did, he would be able to learn everything in no time.

"Gojo you have to teach me!" You say with a pleading look.

"Haha, right as if you would want to learn anything from me. Don’t you two always make fun of me? Saying I’ll be a horrible teacher and whatnot."

Both of you glare at him.

"Ah, your serious I see.,." He says confused yet surprised.

—-

He was taking his sweet time looking over your text book. Giggling over a few certain pages before slamming the book shut.

You lift your head up from the couches arm.

"Alright I got everything down. Do you want to start with the bones or muscles?"

Gojo decided that the best place to study was in the comfort of his own home. You had protested by saying a library or coffee shop would be better because it would motivate you more.

He then proceeded to call you delusional and dragged you to his place.

It’s not like you haven’t been here before. You all used to hang out here almost everyday during high school. Now he was too busy working while you and Shoko were busy at school trying to get a masters degree.

"Bones"

You figured out really soon that his teaching techniques were quite odd.

Wack

"Ow! What was that for?!" You say as you rub your thigh.

Did he really just hit you with his arm?

"Where did I hit you?" He asks.

"My thigh you idio-"

"Wrong, tell me the name of the bone."

Ah, of course. You sigh as you tell him that he hit your femur with his ulna.

Wack, wack

That’s how studying went for a while. Eventually he would speed up the process by going faster and by hitting multiple spots at once. At the end you felt so sore.

You laid sprawled out on the floor as an ice bag rested on your rib cage.

At this point five long hours had gone by. Thankfully you had learned all the skeletal bones in the body but it was taking longer than you initially expected it to. If you guys keep on like this then it would take you forever to learn the muscles.

"You look so defeated already." Gojo said amused as you laid still.

"This is just harder than I thought it was going to be. Don’t you have a different way of learning anatomy without hurting me?" You ask.

You saw his mouth turn into a wide grin before he squatted down.

"I do have a different way but I feel like you’d dislike it." He smiles.

"I Dont care, I just need to learn the muscles in two hours!" You say looking at the clock.

"Let’s put consequences, people are prone to make less mistakes and to try harder if there’s a punishment."

You roll your eyes.

The exam was early in the morning and you needed all the rest you could get. He was just wasting time at this point. You sigh and just go along with his nonsense.

He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you could sit. He then sat across from you and took his mask off from his face.

He must finally be taking this seriously. Grabbing your hand once again he pulls your index finger and puts it on his cheek.

This was the exact same method, just with no pain involved.

"Masseter"

Then he dragged your finger to his temple.

"Temporalis"

You watch as he squints his eyes at you and looks at you suspiciously.

"I thought you needed help. Seems like you have it down."

"I obviously know a few things. For example the obvious ones like biceps. I know everything above the neck too."

He sits there in his thoughts for a moment before grabbing your hand again.

He slowly unfolded your hand and brought it to his chest. It surprised you for a second but you quickly remembered why he was doing this.

"Breast."

The both of you look at each other for a solid second. Holding eye contact before he suddenly burst out laughing. He had to catch his breath before correcting you.

"Pectoralis major"

Right… you would have totally gotten that right if it wearing for him doing such a thing.

You repeat the answer under your breath as he moves your hand once again.

This time it’s was his abs.

You swallow hands as he runs your hands over them. He wore a tight black shirt making it feel like it was his real skin. You could tell he was watching you carefully. Trying to read the facial expressions you were making. He was enjoying this…

You could concentrate at all. You had the answer on the tip of your tongue but it would spill out.

He kept running your hand up and down

"You’re taking too long y/n, the answer is recuts abdominus. We can come back to it later. Shall I give you a hard one?" He asks.

Maybe this was enough for today. Clearly he was toying with you and you had no time for such thing. Once you get home you’re going to study till midnight.

He moved your hand before you could tell him the study session was over.

It took you a moment to realize what you where not touching and it was indeed hard.

You jolt as he squeezed your hand around his length.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it.

Just answer the stupid question and be over with his games.

"Your small penis"

He glare’s at you as he runs your hand up and down his shaft.

"You know well this isn’t small."

You turn to look away from him so he wouldn’t see your cheeks turning pink. You could feel how it twitched under your touch, how it was pulsing begging to be let out. Begging for any sort of attention. Something you weren’t willing to give so easily.

"Anyways you’re wrong. A penis isn’t a muscle."

Huh?

"It’s not?! But you can move it right?"

Gojo for some reason took this as in invitation to unbutton his pants and to spring it out. You didn’t know whether to look away or take this as a learning observation.

Learning! You’re doing this to learn about the human anatomy! You hum in your head.

Averting your eyes down you see it. That wide long monstrous thing. How could that possibly fit inside of anyone?! Who would even want to sleep with him?

He moved it somehow. You watched it move up and down slowly.

"That’s two answers wrong in a row y/n" he coos.

Right. The punishment.

"So what are you going to make me do? Run laps? push-ups? Your chores?"

"No it’s something even better. Not only will this benefit me but it’s also going to make you learn a bit faster hopefully." He says.

Grabbing your leg he drags you towards him. You yelp at the sudden surprise. You knew he was a hundred times stronger than you so you didn’t bother to fight back. You watched him carefully as he climbed over you. His hair dangling over you.

He leans in slowly into your ear and whispered six words.

"I’m going to put it in."

Your breath hitches as you pushed him back.

This man was trying to kill you! There’s no way, absolutely no way that was going to fit in you at all! Of course you’ve had your fare share of men in you but nothing this big.

You shake your head repeatedly at him.

"You scared? Don’t worry I’ll be nice and careful. I’ll even let you stop me from moving if you answer my questions right." Gojo moves your hair to the back of your ear.

He ran his thumb over your temple in circles trying to sooth you.

All you had to do was get the answer correct right? You’ll just get them all right so he won’t even be able to enter you.

You feel as his hands run over your waist. His cold hands touching your sensitive skin before he gripped your bottoms and yanked them down. Your hands quickly go down to hide everything but he was quick to grab both of your wrist with one hand.

"You’re tempting me to just ram into you if you keep squirming like that."

You stay still causing him to laugh.

"Since you got two wrong I get to put two inches in." He says as he lines himself up with your hole.

You kick him and yell at him to stretch you out first but he refuses by saying that it wouldn’t be a punishment if he were to do that. With that out the way he began sliding into you. The second his tip went in you let out a cry of pain.

You try to run away by scooting back but he held you down and kept going in.

His eyes would squeeze shut at he bit his bottom lip. You could feel as he gripped your wrist and the leg he was holding up.

You let out a louder cry as he kept going. Begging him to stop and to let you adjust. There’s no way women actually enjoyed sleeping with him. He was carrying and actual weapon. He could literally kill someone with that.

Once he did stop you let out a loud groan.

"Such a good girl, you’re doing so good. Who would have know you were so tight." He kisses the inside of your leg.

You whimper in protest.

"What’s this?"

He points at the side of his rib cage.

"Y-your external oblique." Your voice trembles.

"Atta girl."

He then points at the middle part of his thigh.

You began to panic. Name, what’s the name?!why couldn’t they have simple names?! Why are there so many different muscles?

You open your mouth hoping the right answer would hopefully come out. The femur was located there so it had to have the word in the name right? Or at least rhyme with it. Femur-loris? Femoris? That sounded right but what if there’s a second part. Or maybe it was just one word.

You looked at him hoping for a hint but he just stared at you. Finding it amusing the way you were trying to think so hard while he was inside of you.

"You’re taking too long." He says as he shoves himself deeper inside of you.

Ngh!

You whimper as gets I n deeper.

"Femoris!" You yell out.

He makes you take in another inch.

"Fuck! You piece of shit! You’re a horrible teacher! I’m not going to learn anything like this!" You curse at him.

He slams the rest of his three inches inside of you causing you to cry. Your eyes almost roll back as you felt him stuff you. He slams your arms above your head and presses his pelvis deeper into yours. Rolling his hips over and over again making you go crazy. Your eyes began to water as you felt overwhelmed. Hot tears coating your eyelash.

Mascar stains your under eyes and your face begins to heat up. You’re begging him to slow down. Looking at him with a pleading look.

"Gojo, please! I don’t know the answer. I can’t even think straight right now!" You sob.

“Recuts Femoris." He says through his teeth.

He leads your hand to his chest and makes you tell him the answer to that one again.

You give him the correct name of it and felt as he began to slow down inside of you. He lets go of your wrists and brings his thumb to your clit. Rubbing it in circles to give you pleasure.

"A reward for being such a smart girl." He whispers.

He watches as you squirm and jolt at the sensation. He kept sliding in and out of you slowly but the pleasure was more overwhelming than the pain.

You start moaning out his name the faster he went. You’ve never felt this good before. With all the men you slept this had to the best one yet. He wasn’t even fucking you probably! He was toying with you!

What would it feel like if he was actually trying?

"Can’t you just fuck me properly?!" You say

He looks at you shocked before smiling. He put your legs over each shoulder and leaned in closer to you. You moan as he somehow reached a deeper area inside of you.

"I will when you get everything down and if you pass I’ll even eat you out." He groans as he grinds himself onto you.

You don’t know how or where all of this knowledge came from all of a sudden. Each place he pointed out you got the right answer, well almost. You would slip a few times making him pull away and slam into you. At some point your body finally adjusted to his length. This making the punishment more wanted. Sometimes you got the answers wrong on purpose.

By the end you had everything down and he was finally fucking you the way you wanted.

He had you on your knees as he plowed into you.

"I think this technique of learning is way better. Now shall we keep doing this for every exam?" He grins.

[flemingology]

morning bliss ─ leah williamson x reader

in which: it's leah's birthday and you surprise her, in a slightly different way

warnings: smut (18+), oral (r giving), fingering (r giving), dirty talk

wc: 2.1K

a/n: based on this request. struggled to get this one over the line and not really pleased with how it turned out but hope you enjoy!

March 29th. Leah's 27th birthday. You'd mapped out this day ages ago, meticulously arranging and fitting every surprise you had for her in the plan of action for the day – making sure Leah got to soak up all the birthday love. It didn't come often that you could properly celebrate her birthday. A schedule as busy as hers wasn't very forgiving, the calendar hung on the wall in your home office always littered with Leah's appointments throughout the week. It went much further than just training sessions and games. It was media, events, shoots, and so on. To have a day off on her birthday was a wonder, and you wanted to make use of it.

The breeze of an early spring morning is what caused you to wake up today. The rising sun cast a golden glow upon your shared room, giving off some of its warmth in the process. You heard a deep exhale coming from the sleeping figure of your blonde lover, limbs entangled with yours and her back pulled flush against your chest. She was still fast asleep, remnants of a late night at the training centre because she was pulled into a few unexpected meetings.

You carded a hand through her blonde locks, pressing a soft kiss against the back of her head which caused her to stir against you, but she didn't wake up. You let your hands roam over her side, reveling in the feeling of her sculptured abdomen tensing up when your fingers roamed across them. Your fingertips ran lower down her body, brushing up and down her legs which caused goosebumps to form on her bare skin.

Spurred on by the way her warm skin felt against your fingertips, you pulled Leah's hair to the side and started pressing a couple soft, tender kisses against the nape of her neck. You could feel how tense the muscles were there, making a mental note to offer her a massage later in the day. You knew she put heaps of pressure on herself every day, not only to perform but also to be the best version of herself. You retreated your hand from her legs and pulled it back up to her upper body, sneaking it under her shirt and softly teasing one of her nipples, that hardened at the touch. A soft gasp escaped Leah's lips, her body nearing on the brink of waking up but not quite there yet.

You pulled her impossibly closer, licking a stripe from the juncture between her neck and collarbone right up to her ear, nipping on her earlobe before you pulled away. Right on cue, you heard a soft groan coming from your girlfriend who was still tightly tucked against your chest. "Good morning, baby," she groggily said. "Good morning it is," you quipped back before lowering your head. "Let me show you how much better I can make it," you whispered in Leah's ear before you carefully flipped the two of you over, not wanting to startle her too much seen as she had just woken up. She sat up against the pillows, making herself comfortable while you trailed kisses down her body.

You played with the hem of her shirt and silently asked for permission to take it off, Leah nodding and giving you a lopsided grin. You could still see the tiredness on her face but it was fading quickly, excited about what was coming her way. You immediately latched your mouth onto one of Leah's nipples and rubbed the other between your thumb and index finger, not teasing and torturing her like you normally would. It was her special day today, so you figured you should go easy on her and just give her what you knew she wanted.

Leah's hands quickly nestled themselves into your hair, tugging harshly whenever a particularly good swirl of your tongue around her nipples made a spark of arousal go down between her legs. Before long you detached your mouth from her breasts and lowered yourself, littering her stomach with kisses and leaving a mark every now and then – sucking and biting on the skin before soothing the sting with a languid lick of your tongue.

"Fuck, baby. This is surely one way to wake me," you grinned against her skin and looked up at her through your eyelashes. "Figured you'd enjoy it. Lay back and relax, Le. Today's about you," you told her before going back to the task at hand, now finally having reached the waistband of her shorts. You looked up at her in silent question and before you could even register a response, she was already lifting her hips from the bed allowing you to slip off the last two pieces of clothing that were putting a border between your bodies.

"You undress too, please," you took a look at yourself to realize you were still fully clothed, quickly getting rid of her your sleep shirt and sweatpants, leaving you in just your underwear as you turned your attention back onto your girlfriend, who was eagerly waiting to be touched. You lowered your head down between her legs which she instinctively spread, the action causing you to smile but you decided not to tease her about it.

You wet your lips and dove straight in, licking a long, slow stripe from Leah's entrance up until her sensitive bundle of nerves sitting exposed at the top, begging for attention. Your action earned you a deep groan from Leah, whose hands fisted your hair. "You taste incredible, baby," you mumbled against her. The vibrations of your voice against her core sent jolts of pleasure through her body, throwing her head back and biting her lip to conceal a near-pornographic moan.

"Eyes on me, Le. And I want to hear you, please," you said before continuing your ministrations, focusing on making her feel as good as you possibly could. You hooked your arms under her thighs and pulled her closer to you, positioning her legs over your shoulders. You took her clit in your mouth and started expertly sucking and flicking your tongue across it, while bringing your other hand up and teasing her sopping entrance with a finger. "God, you're soaked. All for me, hmm?", you teased her. She quipped back with a grunt, while rolling her hips into your hand trying to create more friction than what you were giving her.

"I need you inside me, please," Leah whimpered, and you repositioned yourself so that you could comfortably work your arm between her legs. You gathered some arousal from her entrance and spread it through her folds, making a wet mess from her core. Not wanting her to get overly sensitive from the wetness, you trailed your fingers back down and carefully started pushing one inside of her entrance.

"Oh shit," Leah cursed as her back arched off the bed. If any tiredness was still lingering, you were certain that it'd be gone now. You felt how tight her tunnel closed around your fingers and stilled them to let her adjust, not wanting to cause her any pain. Soon enough Leah began to move her hips, looking for more friction so you filled her to the hilt, knuckles brushing against her folds. You slowly pulled out, before pushing a second finger inside of her entrance.

A particularly loud moan escaping your girlfriend's lips filled you with lust, starting to slam your fingers in and out of her. You could feel the bed move beneath you with every thrust, tightening the grip you had on one of her thighs so her body didn't move away from you at the sheer force of your thrusts.

"Oh," Leah started but got interrupted by one of her own moans. "Oh God, that's good. Fuck. You fuck me so good," her words spurred you on as you tried a third finger, feeling how her walls stretched to accommodate to another finger. "Fuck, you're so wet for me, Le. You're sucking my fingers in, it's so hot."

You got lost in a trance as you watched Leah's core suck in your fingers every time you pulled them back, walls clenching around your digits to keep hold of them. You were still pistoning your fingers in and out of Leah's core as you felt her hand tap the top of your head, immediately slowing your thrusts. You looked up at her with a concern-filled gaze, immediately relaxing when you saw a satisfied, worn out look on her face. "I want you up here with me when I cum, please."

A loving smile spread across your lips upon hearing those words, basking in the softness of the moment. "Anything for you", you quipped back before moving back up her body, making sure your fingers stayed inside of her to not rid her of any pleasure. Admittedly it wasn't the most comfortable, but you angled your body around Leah's to be as close as possible to her, but not to rest any weight on her. You held yourself up on your arm as you pressed a tender kiss against her neck while you started thrusting your fingers again in a steady pace.

One of Leah's hands tangled itself in your hair again, while the other wrapped around the back of your neck keeping you close to her. Profanities fell from her lips as you could feel – by the way she was tightening around your fingers – she was growing closer to her peak. Albeit her moans growing louder, you could feel that she needed something more to finish her off, to tip her over the edge. You leaned your head down and nipped on her earlobe before you whispered. "You feel so good around my fingers, Le. I love the feeling of being inside of you," you heard how her breath hitched before she let out another high-pitched moan.

"You wanna cum for me, baby? Wanna cum around my fingers? You look so beautiful like this, all spread out for me," you whispered further before licking a stripe up from the base of Leah's neck back up to her ear. Right on cue you could feel how her core gripped your fingers tight, muscles spasming around your fingers. Her face was overcome with pure bliss, throwing her head back into the pillows and letting out a few near pornographic moans that would surely let the neighbors know about your activities this morning.

You started to slow down your thrusts, not wanting to overstimulate your girlfriend but also wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. A tired, satisfied smile overcame her face when her muscles finally relaxed, sinking deeper into the mattress and against the pillows. You waited until she opened her eyes and looked at you to pull your fingers out of her still dripping wet core, before you brought your fingers up to your mouth. You teasingly bobbed your head up and down while sucking Leah's juices off your fingers, to which she groaned and bit her lip. You leaned forward and bit her bottom lip. "Happy birthday, my love."

"Fuck, you're so hot. And you make me feel so good. Thank you," you pushed a strand of hair out of her face and pressed a tender kiss against her lips, enjoying the sweet moment between the two of you before you inevitably had to get up and get started with your day. "If anyone is hot here, it's you. Honestly you should feel how wet I am right now, just from hearing you and from making you feel good," Leah chuckled at this and you could see a glint of mischief in her eyes. You could feel a hand that was starting to wander from your back towards your front and heading to the waistband of your underwear, but you stopped her ministrations before she could start anything.

"Nope," you started, popping the p. Leah retreated her hand with a pout. "Not right now. Today's about you, miss Williamson. To start you off I've made a reservation at that new brunch place a couple minutes from here," you said as a grateful smile spread across her face. You were not the one for big gestures, but you made her feel seen. She felt listened to.

"Well, I suppose we best get cleaned up," Leah started, a twinkle in her eye. "And we should save water, really," you cocked an eyebrow at her in fake confusion. She sighed and rolled herself out of bed, holding her arm out for you to get up too. "You, me, shower. Right now."

Safe to say you didn't make it to brunch in time.

[moyazaika]

squeaky clean; yandere. non/dub-con. heavily implied nsfw. mdni.

“i’m sorry– m’sorry, please! swear i won’t–!” your thighs ache, pressed painfully against the edge of the bathtub, held in place by cold, firm hands that refuse to relent, despite your very best efforts. “i won’t do it again. promise.”

“oh, yeah?” you feel the tug of his lips; a cruel smile against your bare shoulders, which shake with sobs that wrack your whole body. he can feel them, you know he can. he’s got your back pressed right up against his chest; he just doesn’t care. “how sorry are you, baby?”

“very very sorry, i swear!” with wide teary eyes, you turn to face the apathetic man behind you. he only looks down at you levelly, appraisal in those eyes, crinkled with amusement despite the facsimile of a loving, if not remorseful, boyfriend’s expression on his features–when he is anything but. 

not loving. not remorseful. and certainly, if the way he keeps you all locked up and confined to the halls of his home serves as any indication of how little your opinion of his unwanted, unrequited affection matters; not your boyfriend.

and yet, you bend over backwards in an attempt to keep him satisfied. how unfortunate it is that all your efforts were undone by a single moment of carelessness; the cathartic release of a convoluted, complicated rage; hard work and pandering and pliant disposition rendered void by a few stupid tumbling past your lips before you could stop to just fucking think.

but you don’t voice any of that to him. it’s not what he would want or care to hear. “i didn’t mean to–to be so rude. please, please, please don’t make me do this…”

a noncommittal hum; “you can do better than that, surely.”

“i’ll never do it again–promise, promise i won’t.” your pleas inevitably fall on deaf ears, breathy voice echoing within the vast, bleak bathroom you’ve ended up in; awaiting the punishment your captor intends to dole out, begging in a lovely little futile attempt for a compassion that the both of you know he does not possess. “i didn’t mean to, i swear! m’so sorry, i’ll be good from now on. i-i love you. i love you.”

lithe fingers dig into your jaw almost painfully, as he kisses his teeth in mock sympathy. “oh, baby. you poor thing, i know you're sorry.”

hope, unfurling in your chest as you allow yourself to let out a relieved sob, mercy—

“but it’s just no good now, is it?” 

you freeze, rooted to the spot. your heart physically drops; a weight that sits low in your belly, alongside the fear of how he’s going to make you pay for your mistake.

“should’ve thoughta that before ‘ya called me ‘psychopathic bastard' you wish would 'do the world a favour by dying.'” he recites your words gleefully, a light and playful tone that contrats his far more forceful hand, as he angles your face forward; the hand that was at the back of your thighs reaching out, muscles taut, you realise–terrified all over again, with restraint. “but no matter. we can fix that.”

you shake your head, curl away from the soap; and right back up against his hard chest. “please don’t”

“hush now, sweet thing. i’ll show you what happens next time you run your little mouth like that later. first,” he reaches for the silky pink bar of soap that rests on the bath caddy, and you hear the sound of mellifluous laughter, low in the back of his throat. “let’s wash that dirty mouth of yours out with some soap.”

“i’m sorry.” it’s a pathetic, useless apology that carries no weight. you know it as much as he does, and yet, you're still a mess of nerves before him, "i love you."

“you weren’t so sorry and sweet when you told me to go ‘suck a dick.’” he grins cruelly. “now how ‘bout you quit whining and get some of these suds in your mouth, so you can think twice next time ‘bout tellin’ me what to put in mine.”

and you've always been good; so why should this time be any different?

it's the oddest thing, though; even after the mortifying ordeal, the overwhelming aftertaste of the soap doesn't make you feel cleaner, so much as it makes you feel dirtier than before.

even more so than when he will place something far less sweeter against your lips hours later, repeating your own words back to you whilst you look up at him helplessly through long lashes, weighed down by your tears.

"'ts not there to stare at, baby. you wanna prove just how sorry you are?" he runs a hand through your hair when you only nod in response; words failing you, mouth squeaky-clean. "good. you've already shown me what a dirty mouth you have today..."

"now," he mockingly taps the side of your face with a single finger, looking down at you a pleased little smile that has lingered on his lips since his fingers were in your mouth, hours ago, forcing the bar of soap onto your tongue. "let's see you put it to work."

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

BLINK TWICE ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩cecile believe — blink twice ♩

pairing: supe!rafe x reader

cw: theboys!au, hostage situation, guns, rafe is 6ft7 because of compound v lol, forceful-ish sex, fear, death (not reader)

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day six. better late than never!

you’d only ever seen ‘king kook’ on tv.

six-foot-seven feet of pure lean muscle and compound v. you didn’t invest yourself too much into the capitalism porn and multi millionaire industry that were supes, not enough to admire the beloved favourite himself anyway. but you can safely say, once or twice it had crossed your mind. him. king kook.

many things had crossed your mind, but not one of them had been the fact one day you might be in the hostage situation you currently were — sky high in a penthouse that didn’t belong to you. you were just the maid for christs sake, caught up in a crime that you’d rather be far from.

as you listen to the repetitive drum that was your captors shoes, pacing back and forth in only the next room, your wrists tied, you lean back against the wall and stare up at the fluorescent lights in the walk in closet you were being temporarily stored in.

you’d already tried to plead for your life, bravely call out to your captor and ask to be spared — but had only had been slapped, the cold kiss of a pistol being pressed to your forehead shortly after forcing you quickly back into submission. all you could do now, was either wait to be killed or wait to be saved.

then of course there was the sound of the front door swinging open without a care that had you tensing up. the police wouldn’t just bust in like that without a plan, could it be another accomplice? you’re proven wrong once more by the sound of your captors voice once more — urgent and pleading, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard prior, and yet was somewhat familiar.

“alright alright, quit with the cryin’ okay— got yourself into this mess i don’t wanna hear it.”

there’s a strangled sound, the patio glass down sliding open, a yelp — and then silence. whoever had come to save you, had just thrown your captor from the balcony. you’re frozen, praying you weren’t next.

“you uh— you in here? ‘can come out now, okay he’s… he’s gone.” the male voice sounds reluctant, like he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the aftermath and you push yourself to your feet — bravely peeping from the closet.

there in the hallway, stands the famous supe— king kook, in all his glory. you knew he was huge but he seemed to tower now, the light from the open patio door casting an angelic glow around him— something like you’d never seen before.

your knees feel weak, all shaky like a baby deer and he presses his lips together.

“you’re…”

“want a picture or something?” he itches his jaw and you shake your head. in that moment, he takes you in — eyes dragging down and then back up as he blinks, waiting for a response. you suddenly feel nude under his gaze, and you wonder if that’s a superpower of his. you blame the stupid little black dress your boss forces you to wear.

“no. thank you. thank you for saving me.” you tremble, braving a step closer.

usually, he’d shrug it off — ruin the sweet moment with a ‘well it’s my job, so.’ and head off — but he’d had a long day and you were his final save until he had to head back to the tower for daily debriefs. didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

“yeah. he would have uh…” a grin spreads across his face and it feels cold, wrong for the moment. “he would have had your head on a stick.”

you feel queasy at the imagery but you’re distracted by the visage of the supe eyeing you once more. “do you drink?”

unsure as to how you got there, you stand at the kitchen counter with him now — still shaky. you figured with these things they’d come to have an ambulance check you over, make sure you’re okay, physically and mentally. but in this moment, there was no one coming. it was just you, and king kook.

you watch the muscles in his back contract as he faces away from you, unscrewing the cap to a bottle of expensive alcohol and pouring it into short glasses. when he faces you again, he’s charming — a coy smile leaving lines in his cheeks and focused eyes. it was never unheard of that he was handsome, you’re just noticing it now— close up and in person.

“get some of that in you, yeah?” he drawls, sliding the glass towards you, his fingers lingering on the rim— eyes on yours. “that shit should get you nice and relaxed.”

you take a sip, wincing at the sharp taste that burned your throat. whiskey — and you were never really a fan. but hey, it would be rude to decline. the supe chuckles at your reaction that you tried to hide, drinking his with ease.

“so what am i supposed to do now? do i need to report this to someone? i’ve never… been a hostage before.” your brow crinkles as your neck cranes to look up at him, the man suddenly closer than before, licking his lips like a malnourished alligator.

“uh, nah… no. you let me handle that, yeah? this was my save so… you report to me.” he tilts his head and you find yourself biting your lip. you want to scold yourself, but blame it on adrenaline instead.

“oh… well, i’m thankful for that.”

“yeah? how thankful.” he moves a little closer, and you feel tiny.

“hm?” all doe eyed and helpless, you practically feed it to him.

large hands find your hips, and to your surprise you’re spun to face away from him, the man leaning down so his hot breath invades the space between your neck and ear.

“you know i- i had a really long day. maybe we… figure something out, right? a way for you to pay me back.”

“how so?” you whimper.

it all happens so fast — one moment you’re being smooth talked, next moment your feet are dangling in the air, being used like a fleshlight. you’re grasping onto him now, flailing a little at the fact you were totally off the ground, the man effortlessly supporting your weight.

“fuckfuckfuck— yeah-haha, like that.” he strains, hips plapping violently against your ass as he fucks into you. no protection or anything, but somewhere in the back of your mind you figured supes couldn’t procreate like that.

“k—king m’gonna fall— gonna—mmph.” you sound deranged, like an animal even as you flop against him, letting him hammer you in the air.

“shh—shutup, a’ight? gonna — gonna let me have this… mmph… gonna be a grateful girl for me okay?” he grunts, adjusting his feet wider and closing his eyes to concentrate on the warm embrace of your snug cunt.

you suppose you were grateful, and whilst you were filled with shame — the least you could do would be to try and enjoy it.

[crashandlivewrites]

Spread Your Wings- Part 2

First off: thank you to @your-grace-the-raven-queen for being an amazing beta (and also because she gave my ass hell when I didn't tag her in the first part which was very wrong of me). We support beta readers in this house!

Pairing: PornStar!John Price x PornStar!fem!reader

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, porn industry innaccuracies, your manager being a cunt, things get a lil hot and steamy but no piv yet!!!

Word Count: 3.9k

< Part 1

Read on Ao3

An assistant stepped forward as the cameras stopped rolling, handing you both a couple of wet wipes before placing a towel on the floor, mopping up your mess. Scrubbing his beard with the wipe and tossing it aside, John then turned his attention to you, gently cleaning the inside of your sensitive thighs quickly and efficiently as he’d surely done hundreds of times before. 

“I can do it, it’s fine.” You murmured, hand reaching down as he moved higher up your thigh. He shushed you, shaking his head as he squeezed your arm tenderly. 

“S’alright, sweetheart. I got you. Just rest for me, yeah? We’re not done just yet.” He chuckled, glancing at your eyes to check on you yet again. The hand that wasn’t cleaning between your legs rose up to cup the back of your neck, thumb pressing gently against your skin. “Did it feel that good?” 

“Shut up, you know it did.” Lifting your head up, you focused on his cocky expression, his teasing smirk, his raised brow. Scoffing, you smacked him lightly on the chest, shaking your head as you did so. “You’re incorrigible!” 

“And you squirted. For real. None of that fake shit. I know for a fact Johnny didn’t get that out of you.”  The expression on your face morphed into a pout and he chuckled, tapping underneath your chin. “Don’t pout, sweets. I liked it. Like knowing I made you feel that good.” He tossed the wipe aside and rested both of his large hands on your thighs as he nestled between them. 

Drawing your lip between your teeth, you tipped your head to the side as you stared at him, eyes tracing over the attractive features of his face; the fullness of his cheeks, and the crow's feet around his eyes as he smiled kindly down at you. Your breathing had settled, your heart had calmed down, and so you pushed yourself up a little straighter. Your legs were still quite shaky, but you hooked them back around his hips as best you could, pulling him back into you, his brow cocked with interest. 

“Feeling better already? Mustn’t have done a good enough job then.” Grinning coyly at his words, you ran your hands up his chest, feeling the softness overlaying the firm muscle. 

“You definitely did a good enough job. But maybe I just want more.” It felt easy, natural almost, falling into this flirty banter with him. He’d made it that way with his own flirtatious words and lingering touches. He beamed at your words, nosing along the line of your jaw, inhaling deeply. 

“You know…” he mumbled into the skin of your neck, breath tickling you slightly. “Johnny was right about something. You smell fucking divine, sweet like cherries.” Cupping the back of your head, he tilted it slightly, exposing more of your neck to him as he breathed in deeply and pressed soft kisses along your neck. 

“Yeah?” Your voice was raspy as you felt yourself getting pulled back under the haze of arousal. Before he could respond, a pointed cough broke the intimate moment between the pair of you. John clicked his tongue, sucking in a breath as he pulled back to reveal your manager standing just off to the side expectantly. 

“Can we talk?” His tone was pinched, head jerking over his shoulder as his toe tapped impatiently, causing your body to tense in response. Clearly, John felt the tension, his hands moving to squeeze your shoulders as he faced the smaller man. 

“She’s still feeling a little shaky from the session. Whatever you need to talk to her about, you can say it here.” John turned to you, eyes both warm and serious.  “That good with you, sweets?”  You held his gaze giving a firm note before glancing at your manager’s narrowed eyes and raised eyebrow before the man turned his apathetic expression to you. 

“We’ve got a fair amount of marketable footage, but I’d like more vocals from you. There’s some good audio, I’d just like you to be a little louder, play it up for your audience, y’know?” John bristled at the words, fingers digging slightly into your body as he turned to the side. 

“I think she performed extremely well. Especially for my usual productions—”

“I’m trying to advance her career.” Your manager interrupted without a care, turning a pointed look at you. “Moaning out another man’s name isn’t going to attract people to watch your content. And you need to perform a little more for the camera, too.” 

You glanced between the two men, watching your oblivious manager blinking expectantly at you as John straightened, arms folding across his chest, his head tilting to the side. 

“She’s doing just fine.” He grits out, moving to lean on the bench between you and your manager. “I’m guessing that’s your first time hearing a woman really orgasm. Sounds a bit different than the produced shit you’re used to but let me tell you something.” John stepped forward again, using his height as an intimidation factor as he loomed over the other man. 

“Real shit like that is what keeps people coming back to watch it again and again. She’ll build up a loyal fanbase who appreciate the genuine content. Have a conversation with Kate. She’ll tell you my numbers.” 

“You’re a man. Women like the soft shit. Men don’t. Men wanna hear her cry out like a whore—” 

“I’m a man, aren’t I?” John’s voice was venomous, sending shivers down your spine as you watched the confrontation unfold, legs still feeling too unsteady to step between the men. “And I fucking adored hearing her cum like that.” 

Well, if that didn’t send a fresh wave of arousal directly into your still-wet underwear. 

Your manager simply sniffed, turning his nose up as he spat a final retort before he stalked off. 

“It’s her career anyway, not mine.” 

Snorting, John turned around, anger evident in his eyes and furrowed brow as he stepped back over towards you. His hands returned to rest on your hips as he nestled between your legs once more as you mumbled a soft thanks. 

“What’re you doing with a wanker like that, sweets? He won’t treat you right.” Shrugging, you leaned into him, head resting on his chest as you groaned in frustration. 

“Studio assigned him to me. He’s been alright for the most part, but he’s got a very fixed idea about what a porn star should be.” John hummed at your response, dipping down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head as his thumbs stroked mindless patterns just above the line of your underwear. 

“I’ll link you up with Kate after this, yeah? Give you a better standing in the field. She’s dedicated and will always advocate for your safety and preferences.” You blinked at him in disbelief, but his face seemed genuine. “Nothing to it, I swear. Lemme help you out, alright?”

And how could you say no to that? Not when he was looking down at you with a sharp glint in his eye, and his palm cupping your cheek. Your mouth parted, already leaning in to kiss him when he placed a thumb over your lips, halting your movements.

“You ready for round two, sweets?” You nodded, his thumb still pressed against your lips, just begging to be bitten. He glances over your shoulder with a gorgeous half smile.  “Nik? We’re ready.”   

Nikolai started getting the crew into position as John returned his gaze to you. “And you… don’t think about what that bastard said. With me, I want you to be real. Within reason, of course. Let me hear you moan my name as I kiss you, touch you, fuck you. Promise me that, sweets?” 

He’d enthralled you from the moment you’d first watched him on a whim. The snippet was something that had caught your eye on twitter and made you wet instantly. Here, with him standing before you, you were propelled back to that moment, feeling equally as enchanted. Lips parted slightly and eyes wide, you nodded. 

“Yes sir. Anything for you.” 

“Good girl. My good girl.” His possessive tone was backed up by his hands gripping at your body, pulling you close until your hips were flush with his. He claimed your mouth even before Nikolai had signalled the cameras were back up and running.

The kiss was all-consuming. His hand wrapping around the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he held you to him. Adjusting your leg, you dug a heel into his lower back, locking him into your body as you responded eagerly, hands clawing at his body. Though he was strong and broad, there was a certain softness to him that made it easier to grab eager handfuls of his body, even through the material of his shirt.

Sliding both hands underneath your rear, he lifted you off the counter, walking as he continued to kiss you. His tongue slid alongside yours, roaming and tasting every inch of your mouth as he cupped your ass, fingers digging into the flesh. 

You had no clue what he was planning to do next. All rational thoughts had left your brain. What remained had been taken over by the man you were currently wrapped around. Moaning softly into his lips, your nails scratched lightly at the back of his neck, egging him on. His hands gripped tighter as a deep rumble sounded in his chest. He sat down onto the couch, placing you on his lap so that your wet core was resting up against his prominent bulge. Unable to resist the allure of friction, you ground against him, moaning as you did so. 

Quickly, he took hold of your hair and pulled you back to look into your eyes. 

“Getting greedy now, are you?” He tipped his head to the side, eyes narrowing like a predator lining up his prey. “Ate that pussy out so nicely and now you’re just grinding on my lap like a desperate little thing?” 

He titters, palms sliding up your thighs to push up the satin slip once more, revealing your ass to the camera as his hands roam up your back. Your mouth kept opening, but nothing came out, his actions and words rendering you speechless. 

You knew you should say something, either banter back or be subservient to him for the good of the film, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not with the way he was staring at you, mock disappointment evident in his eyes. 

“Was gonna take this pretty little number off, but I think I’ll wait now. Make you beg for it.” One hand pulls back, reaching up to hold your jaw and pull you closer so he could whisper into your ear. “Want you to grind on my thigh until you’ve soaked the material through. Got it?” 

“Uh-huh.” You managed to get out, already shuffling to change positions, moving to straddle one of his thick, muscular thighs as he turned your head back to look at him.

“Words, pretty thing. Wanna hear that voice of yours.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl. Now get to it.” He slaps your ass playfully, not enough to make it sting, but enough to jerk you into action. 

Slotting your legs on either side of his thigh, you began a slow grind, dragging yourself along the rough material of his pants, feeling the wide expanse of his leg flex underneath you. Whining softly at the pleasurable tingle spreading through your body, you built a steady pace, your clit throbbing as it dragged down the length of his thigh. Reaching forward, you curl your fingers around his shoulder, nails digging into the firm flesh to stabilise yourself as you continue rocking. 

John was simply watching you, elbow up on the armrest of the couch and tilting his head against his closed fist. His eyes were dark and heady, trailing over your body, humming occasionally as he ran his free hand along your side. 

The touch spurred you on, rolling your hips faster as you felt heat slowly build in your abdomen.

“Good fucking girl. Keep going. Know you can do it.” He grinned lazily, leaning back and bouncing you on the leg you were riding, causing you to loudly cry out his name. 

“That’s it, sweets. Moan for me, cry for me.” Cooing softly at you, his hand reaching down to grip his hard length, pressing against the zipper of his jeans. “See what you do to me? See what my pretty wife makes me feel? Got me so fucking hard, love.” 

You couldn’t help as your eyes immediately trained on the sizeable bulge. You’d seen his cock before, obviously, through your screen at home. But here and now, you were going to see it in person. 

“John… fuck, more John, please. Wanna… I wanna…” With your head hazy from lust, you couldn’t form the sentence, instead choosing to lean forward and reach out, palming at his groin, hips jerking faster, cunt aching and empty as you felt the size of him. 

“You wanna see it, baby? Wanna see my cock?” He whispered into your ear, his heavy breathing fanning over your neck as he groaned, his own hips jolting slightly at the contact of your hand. “No, not yet… fuck, not yet sweets. Just wait a little bit longer f’me, yeah? Gonna make it worth the wait, love.”

He pulled away, removing your hand before placing his palms on either side, hoisting you up so you straddled his lap properly, feeling the hardness of his erection against your throbbing clit. Barely needing the guidance of his hands, you immediately resumed your grind, moaning desperately, arms linking behind his neck. Cursing under his breath, John’s fingers were digging into your thighs, joining in the rhythm now as you felt yourself edging closer yet again. 

Your panties were stuck to you, wetness surely leaking through to his jeans as you continued to rub yourself on him like someone first discovering how good grinding on something felt.

“Oh fuck yeah, pretty girl, just like that.” John rumbled deeply, head tipping forward to rest on your shoulder as his breathing came out in short pants. “Feel so fucking good grinding on my cock like this. This how you’re gonna ride me? Until your pussy’s drooling all over me and you can barely speak?” 

Tipping your head back and keening, you were completely enthralled with everything this man was doing to you. The feel of him under your body, the sound of his rough voice telling you just how good you were making him feel, the musky smell of him… everything. His mere presence could make you almost forget everything around you, the cameras, the set, the crew all melting into nothing as you were set alight. Nodding deliriously was all you could manage now, hands gripping tightly around him as you leaned forward, your chest nearing his face. 

Groaning, John latched onto your nipple, teeth and tongue swirling around the stiff bud through the satin of the dress you were wearing. Growling in frustration, his hands left your hips, gripping the neckline of the slip dress and tearing it down the middle. Your noise of surprise was cut off as he pushed you back to arm's length, halting your movements, his pupils dark and dilated as he stared hungrily at your exposed body. 

“Jesus, sweetheart. You have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are? How fucking immaculate your tits are?”

“My husband does seem to tell me that from time to time.” You teased, surprising even yourself with the line, making sure to run your hands up your now bare body to cup your breasts and squeeze them enticingly for both the camera and for him. John let out a low whistle, brow quirking and eyes sparking mischievously at your response, as if he also had almost forgotten he was at work right now. 

“Yeah, that’s right. You’re my fuckin’ wife. Mine. Aren’t you? Putting on this show just for me, aren’t you?” You nodded; eyes fixing on his during the last line. His gaze was intense, his hands were perched high on your thighs, squeezing ever so slightly. Your mind trailed back to moments earlier, just before you restarted filming, when he said he wanted you to be genuine. For him.

Swiping your tongue over your bottom lip, you ran your hands up his shirt, toying with the buttons. 

“I wanna see you, too.” You whispered, a little more sincerely, keeping your eyes level with him for a scarce moment before grinning cheekily, and tearing his shirt open. Buttons popped off, skittering along the tiled floor. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, love. You’re gonna drive me insane.” He grunts, eyes wide in shock at your assertiveness. But you don’t even get to admire his glorious, fuzzy chest as he leans up to reclaim your mouth, spanking your ass as he did so.

This kiss was different than before. This kiss was carnal, heated, and possessive with teeth biting down on your lip. The bristles of his beard scratching against the soft skin of your face while his palms hungrily slid over your body, tugging away the last of the torn fabric, leaving you only in your soaked underwear as you begin to grind down on him again. The pace was rough, fast, and needy. Greedy hands roamed bare skin, clutching and tugging in exploration as your tongues melded together similarly, seeking to map out every inch of one another before it was too late, and the moment between you two would be over. 

“Feels so good— oh my god— fuck, John, please!” The noises coming from your mouth were loud and frantic as you picked up the pace. As if to shut you up, John pressed two of his thick fingers into your mouth, tickling the back of your throat as he leaned in. 

“Suck ‘em for me. Show me how well you can take them. Get them nice and wet. Gotta put my fingers in you first, stretch out that tiny little cunt for my thick cock, yeah?” His breathing was ragged, coming out in harsh grunts as he continued to drive his hips up to meet yours. 

Moaning around his fingers, your eyes fluttered closed as you sucked them deep, tongue sweeping between the digits, spreading your saliva as he pressed the pads of his fingers on your tongue. His lips parted as he watched you, as though engraving every single one of your features into his mind.

“Yeah, that’s it, pretty girl. Suck my fingers as you grind against my cock. Picture it’s in your mouth and gimme a show.” Hearing the roughness in his tone and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was just as affected by you as you were by him, even if it was just in this moment.

Looking directly at him, lips swollen from his brutal kiss earlier, you began bobbing your head along the length of his fingers, sucking and swirling your tongue around his digits, craving something else in your mouth. The feral glint in his eyes spurring you on, taking them all the way down. Blinking back tears from your lashes, you swallowed around his fingers, choking slightly which set him off. 

Swearing under his breath, John pulled his fingers from your mouth, placing them back down onto your hips as he controlled your movements. His eyes were focused on where you were rubbing against him, his thumbs digging into your skin as he thrust his hips up to match your pace. The friction making him groan gutturally and you whine softly. Tilting his head back, you could see his eyes were glazed and hazy, looking up at you in awe. 

“You’re something fucking else, sweetheart.” His voice husky as he panted heavily, rhythm turning uncoordinated and desperate. Resting your forehead against his and cupping his face gently, your uneven breaths intermingled with his as you screwed your eyes shut at the delicious throbbing of your clit every time it dragged up his hard cock. 

“So pretty, so damn fucking pretty like this.” He whispered, nose nudging against yours. “Makin’ me feel so good, fuck—” His praises cut off with a strangled moan and his grip tightened. 

In the back of your mind, you knew this wasn’t ideal for filming. Grinding on your partner like some high school teen in her boyfriend’s first car wasn’t exactly a top search in porn, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. It was you and him and the fire that was burning through your veins. 

Coming to his senses, John’s grip on your hips tightened as he pushed you back off his lap, effectively ceasing all your movements as you frown in confusion. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked hesitantly, the tone of your voice heavy and thick as you tried to regulate your breathing. John simply chuckled, shaking his head. He tipped his head back over the couch, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

“Jesus love, making me feel like a young lad again.” The corners of your mouth were twitching upwards, the pieces in your mind clicking together. 

“You need a breather there, John?” You couldn’t help but tease him, reaching down towards his crotch, but getting stopped by his firm grip. 

“You’re a downright menace, you know that?” Giggling, you leaned in to press soft pecks to his cheek, his nose, his forehead; covering his face in kisses as he laughed along with you. 

“Alright, you.” Pinning both your wrists behind your back and tugging your back, John managed to put some space between you both. “Menace, I tell you.” 

Regretfully, you relented your assault, sliding down onto the couch next to him. 

“At least I wasn’t about to cream in my pants.” 

“I’m sorry, love, have you seen the state of my jeans?” His own tone was ribbing as he gestured to the seat of his pants, which showed clear stains from your arousal. Biting your lip, you blinked up at him and shrugged. 

“I’m so terribly sorry, did you want me to stop?” His brow raised at your sarcasm, scoffing as he shook his head. 

“The gall of her?” John looked over at Kate who was flashing a smile of her own as she typed away on her phone. 

“Someone was bound to put you in your place, John.” Making a noise of protest, John looked over at Nik for support, but got none there either. 

During the exchange, you spared a glance over at your own manager, who was scowling in the corner with his arms folded and yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Turning your gaze back to John, you nudged him slightly. 

“It’s alright, old man, I can wait all day for you to get it back up.” 

Nikolai let out a barking laugh as John turned his head to look at you incredulously. Moving too quickly for you to process, he pushed you onto your back and pulled you closer to him by your ankles. Letting out a yelp of surprise, your eyes were wide as they stared up at him, his gaze a strange mix of playfulness and interest. 

“You’re cheeky, I’ll give you that. But I’ve got years on you, sweet thing. I can make your head spin in ways you’ve never even imagined.” 

“Prove it.” His eyes narrowed at the snarky retort and one corner of his mouth pulled into a vicious smirk. 

“Oh sweetheart, be very careful what you wish for.” He purred, caressing your skin softly and you felt yourself practically melt under him with anticipation.

Taglist

@ferns-fics (I thought there was another couple who asked but I couldn't find you, apologies! I'll try and make better note for next time)

[yaespook]

Run 4 - In Progress.

✧ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Android! Wanderer, no gendered terms used for reader, no actual penetration, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Wanderer, memory manipulation. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: If possible, use the InteractiveFics extension to change the phrase “My name” (without the quotation marks) to the name given to your Wanderer.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

You must have picked him up two or three weeks ago, when he was still worse for wear. In your memory, he was in pretty bad shape when the two of you first met, his main panel wrenched open leaving his circuitry a mess and rough scrapes all over his superficial layer.

Now, with your constant repairs, he’s been more lively, tailing you around the house as you go about your day. While fussing about, dusting off a muzzle laying on a fur pelt, you sense a presence lingering outside your room.

"You know, I don't recall androids being quite so clingy." In return, you get a light huff from behind the door frame. 

"And you’ve come across other androids? I didn’t know you run a junkyard here,” the eye roll in his tone is audible.

His feet pad into the room and his gaze hones in on the clerical collar placed on a nearby shelf, glaring at it. Clicking his tongue, he crosses his hands on his chest.

“Whatever, what you do is mostly up to you anyway. Do you think you’re almost done cleaning? I think there’s an internal problem again, I’ll wait for you at the worktable,” the android saunters off nonchalantly, throwing you a light wave over his shoulder.

Sighing, you quickly finish up your task at hand before complying to his request, briskly making your way over to the worktable where he's already perched smugly on, his gaze expectant. 

You easily go through the rehearsed motions of plugging him up to your computer, your muscle memory kicking in as you boot up the required softwares before gingerly prying the main panel located on the front of his torso to gain access to his internal workings. Over time, you've gradually figured out the parts that make up the android sitting before you, growing used to the sight of the lengths of wiring and cables running throughout his body, the faint low mechanical whirring of motors and cooling systems. 

Most importantly, you now understand how sensitive his central core is. Nestled securely in a latched transparent casing, his core is what powers and sustains him. It emits a constant turquoise light and is also reflected in the glowing markings that lay beneath his synthetic skin that occasionally activate. (Although, you haven't quite gotten an answer for what makes them light up yet.) 

“So what's your problem today?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from him as you go over to your computer to check if any bugs have been identified.

“I think that cable all the way at the back came undone and got tangled with the rest.” 

You shoot him a pointed look, “Again? Didn’t we just fix that same cable last week?” Shifting your chair so you’re seated before him, poised to conduct your repairs, you make a passing remark, “Maybe taking you to another mechanic might be the better choice, get everything checked out, you know?”

How long have you kept at your task of finally fixing him up to tiptop condition? It’s almost daily when he reports back to you with a new disconnected wire or another loose joint somewhere on him. Diligently, you’ve been trying to repair him but the android is like a never-ending to-do list. And it’s only natural to be concerned if the constant damage stems from a more serious underlying issue that you haven’t managed to discover. The only next logical step would be to get another pair of eyes to help discern the root cause in case anything takes a turn for the worse.

But the reaction you get from him is one unexpected. His head snaps to face you, a scowl evident on his face. 

“So you’re handing me off like an unfinished project to someone else now?”

You know how snippy he can get however, this is on a different level from his previous behaviour. Maybe something left over from the days before you found him. It’ll be a good idea to look into his past logs to diagnose any present problems, you make a mental note of it.

“I’m just worried for you, that’s all. What if there’s an urgent issue I can’t fix alone? And we both know I can’t leave you as is.”

His expression mellows to an annoyed pout, looking away as his core glows faintly along with the patterns under his skin, he mumbles, “I’ll be fine.” (“I just need you.”) (“I'm the only one for you.”) (“No one else deserves you.”)

He allows you to work without another complaint, silently watching as your hands venture into his chest, a focused air to you while you look for the problematic cable. He senses your touch when you make contact with it, sucking in a sharp breath as you grip it between your fingers, twisting it around to free it from the surrounding wires before you finally connect and plug it into its rightful place. 

“That’s it for your cable issue. Anything else?” He quickly shakes his head.

Giving it a few light cursory pulls to make sure it’s finally secured, (if you weren’t mistaken, his core brightened in time with your tugs), you spare the rest of his parts one last look over. Then, shutting the panel, you unplug him from the computer.

Immediately, he scampers off the worktable with a clipped “thank you” and runs into his room. You hear the door to his room close before its lock clicks. 

The next few days prove to be better, the repair requests for any troubles that seem to have cropped up overnight growing more and more infrequent. Perhaps, bit by bit, the end of the repairs start to come into sight. 

Although, you have noted that his internal temperatures have been hiking recently whenever you have his chest panel open to patch him up. 

This time, you have him lying on the worktable on his back to access the further areas in him. He’s positioned facing upwards but his eyes are darting everywhere, unable to meet your gaze. Once again, the programme open on your computer screen shows how his temperatures are quickly rising even though there are no obvious reasons for such a sudden change. It records the recurrence into its troubleshooting log like before, more times than you can remember.

He’s panting lightly, the android’s chest moving up and down as your ears pick up the sound of his inner fans whir louder, his pre-programmed functions activating to try to cool him down. With no clue as to what could cause this issue, you reach in to look for a fault. Yet, the more you poke and prod around, the higher the warmth within him rises. 

Left with more questions than answers, you turn to his core for a closer look. When your fingers brush against the transparent casing, a moan slips out from him, and instantly his head whips to look at you dumbfounded.

An artificial blush takes over his face, a low pink glow blooming from beneath the synthetic layer. A beat passes before he cracks his lips apart, voicebox working as he pleads.

“...Again.”

Gently, you let your fingertips dance over the clasp hinging the casing shut and his response is instant. A shudder rolls through him, as real as it can be, and a shaky exhale leaves him. The android’s back arches up slightly, hastily chasing after your touch when you remove your hand.

Your caress returns when your hand dips deeper into his circuitry, where you hook two fingers underneath his thicker cables, attentively stroking them between your thumb and fingers, before tugging on them forcefully enough to elicit a reaction from him. 

His eyes fly open at your ministrations, a greed for more overtaking his processors. You’ve always been so gentle with him when he’s opened up for you, when you have access to the deepest parts of him, when he’s at his most vulnerable. So, to have you toy around with him, show him the indulgence of human flesh, can you really fault him for falling for you?

The tips of your fingers ghost along the length of his metal spine, and the android keens from under you.

“Please, more, I can take it!”

Taking his cue, your hand encircles his spine, grinding the heel of your palm against the ridges of the sensitive metal elements as you pump up and down. 

“Sss- so good! Hah…!” He can’t control how he behaves when you treat him so well, like he’s the only one worthy of your attention. He shakes under your touch, trembling as the addictive pleasure overrides his programmed commands.

“No more blubbering, just focus on me.” Your other hand goes to cup his chin, and obediently, he parts his lips for you, allowing you to slip your thumb into his mouth. You can feel his tongue work and when you press down, he jolts suddenly. A gag reflex? In an android? How amusing.

When you stop stroking him, he whines pitifully, muffled moans and begging for you to continue but his complaints stop when he feels you unlatch the lid of his core casing.

“Would you let me?” And the flurry of nods from him confirms his enthusiasm.

With bated breath, he counts the seconds before you make contact with his core. And when he senses your caress on his glowing core in his exposed chest cavity, he breathes out a gasp, as if he requires the intake of air. None of this is written into the basis of his behaviour, not fed into the dataset that makes up how he’s supposed to act, so everything he feels for you must be real.

His eyes go unfocused as his neural network is flooded with the raw pleasure of being enveloped with love and lust down to his literal core. Desire burns within him, evident from the fans whirring even louder than before to bring down his temperatures. It’s just so much for the android’s computations to handle. Broken moans leave him as he tries to vocalise his love for you (as best as he can with his thumb in your mouth). 

And when you press a kiss to his unprotected core, his vision whites out.

Eyes wrenched shut, his whole mechanical body jerks upwards, back arching off the worktable as his body propels himself to sit up, his limbs trying to ensnare you in his embrace, to keep you with him as long as he can. Every command in his system is overwritten to hone in on all the sensations of you on him, your touch, your warmth.

The patterns under his skin glow with a pulse, akin to a human’s heartbeat and when his eyes open again, glimmering faux tears roll down his face. His chest heaves as you close the distance between the two of you, cupping his face with both your hands and kissing his tears away.

The android breaks the intimate silence as he quietly asks you, “Can you give me a name?”

When you whisper a name into his ear, he breaks into sobs in your hands.

The days pass by, uneventful, and the time for a final cursory check before deeming him fully repaired comes. He’s poised on the worktable like any other previous session, a bored expression on his face as you flit back and forth between him and the software on your computer.

“You really are a clingy case,” you say and get a huff in return, “But a welcome one.”

Remembering your mental note from before about accessing his past logs, you access it from your computer, pulling up the window with his stored recorded data. The log operates in the background constantly, one of the built-in functions of the android and a quick glance over just to make sure everything is in order should do.

However, the logs prove to be worrying in a completely different way.

[Log: Day 10 - Run 1 - Failed. Werewolf. They’re with that mangy mutt. I don’t know what they see in him. I still remember the care they showed me. There’s always the next run.]

[Log: Day 20 - Run 2 - Failed. It seems I’m too late this time around. That vile selkie captured them first. How irritating. I need to stop hesitating. It’s my love on the line after all.]

[Log: Day 30 - Run 3 - Failed. Incubus. That damn priest and incubus. I can feel my temper reaching its breaking point.]

[Log: Day ??? - Run 4 - In progress. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.]

Your eyes rake across a multitude of grainy snapshots of yourself, all with different people that you can’t find the ability to recall, your mind pounding from the discovery. 

He’s gazing expectantly when you look back up at him from the screen. A grin twists its way across his face, canines glinting under the dizzying harsh lighting.

“So now you’ve seen how much I love you, even if you don’t remember it.” There’s a sick obsession dripping in his tone, an uncanny level of emotion that androids normally shouldn’t be able to replicate, one that sends a heavy uneasiness through your whole being, one that roots you to the ground. 

When he doesn’t get the adoring reaction from you he expects, the proud expression on his face falls instantly. 

He’s despondent, despairing as he tears the connecting cables off of him, launching himself off the worktable, lunging across for you, frenzied, pure scorching mania surging through him. 

“You… even after all these runs. You’ve always given me the same thing. My name. I thought this time- You-” 

Voice shaky, “It’s a shame this run didn’t work out either.” 

He steels himself, hand outstretched, “No matter.”

You blink.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

[haikyu-mp4]

Sly foxes

word count; 950 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

Honestly, the coach was the least of your concerns going into this project. Everyone knew that Inarizaki’s volleyball team’s biggest defence was their captain, Kita Shinsuke.

You met with him for a lunch period, giving him a detailed explanation of your project and how you would like to proceed with it. He gave you some suggestions and rules, also making sure you knew that they couldn’t spent too much time on it.

Kita really liked how detailed you were and how you clearly came prepared to meet with him. You arrived at the precise agreed time and spent even less time than he expected, despite including all the necessary details. After he gave his two cents, he happily approved the project and asked you to spend the rest of the lunch period with him. Of course, you wouldn’t say no after he so kindly approved your project, but that wasn’t your only motivation. Their captain is really quite pretty up close.

D-day arrived and you started off with the first-years just like planned. Most of them were very sweet and seemed to appreciate a bit of attention even though they weren’t starting players. The problem arose when you got to the second-years. The ones Kita warned you about, even though he didn’t have to. You definitely heard of the Miya twins before.

Starting with Atsumu. “Yer taking up my practice time, pretty. Better make it worth my time.”

“I can skip you if you want, leave you out of the brochure,” you answered, not giving him much of a reaction. He begrudgingly posed for you and tried to casually flex his muscles, definitely not giving up on his first try of charming you. Still, to no avail.

Then there was Osamu. He was nice enough, trying to ask you about food you like, to which you answered normally. It was disturbing the picture taking and you wanted to stay on schedule. Unfortunately, the food talk made his stomach growl, so he ended up blushing and giving up his attempt so he could finally finish and leave to get a snack.

After the twins, you tried your best with Suna. When walking past you, he ghosted a hand over your hip as if on accident, and leaned down so he didn’t need to speak too loud. “How do you want me?” he asked, hoping to send some chills down your spine when his deep voice hit your ear, breath curling around it. You pointed to his spot and asked him casually to look like an intimidating middle blocker. Kita gave you a rundown of the positions beforehand.

“You look a little… bored,” you said with a careful smile, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way. Suna deadpanned and sighed, realising his flirting didn’t work on you and he just couldn’t be bothered putting in too much work. So he sharpened his eyes and got the photoshoot over with, complaining to Atsumu about how stale you were and he totally agreed.

The rest had realised by then that there was no getting to you, and they all decided the bet was off. Yes, the second-years bet on who you would be most charmed by.

That’s why you sighed with relief when you got to the third-years. Kita smiled softly and patted your shoulder, reassuring you that your process was well planned and executed, which in turn means the result will be as well.

All the pictures came out really good, though you did have a special vision for Kita’s that made them your biased favourites. He had his jacket resting over his shoulders and you and Akagi agreed he looked pretty cool. After packing up your stuff and going back into the gym, you turn to the team with Kita by your side. “Everyone, please thank y/n for the effort. I’m sure this will help us show off our best sides at nationals,” he said, looking at you while your cheeks flushed red from his compliments. The team all bowed, but the second-years looked at you and their captain with a suspicious squint.

“Thank you guys for your cooperation! And thank you, Kita, for allowing it,” you said, bowing to the captain and then the team before finally taking your leave.

“Did Kita just smile at her?” Atsumu whispered in shock.

“Did she blush? He just said thanks?” Suna whispered with disbelief.

“What just happened?” Ginjima threw in there.

Aran huffed a laugh and hit Suna hard on the back, as he stood the closest. “What, you guys don’t think our captain has game?”

Kita had already asked to take you out for tea outside of school and looked forward to your date this weekend. The second years might just have gained even more respect for their captain.

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust