#but it's easier to brush off with actual experience of human goodness

[mechdyke-after-hours]

MINIBOT MAID CAFE

This is... messy. and unorganised. and not to mention I've never written for Swerve before. I just randomly had this thought last night, and I already had a headcanon that Swerve has a thing for lingerie so...

take this garbage /lh

Word count: 1500

Swerve's bar made significantly less shanix during off hours. Not to mention, he was bored during the day. He spent a lot of his off time exploring various forms of human media, as well as infodimping about them to any mech who'd sit and listen for more than 5 minutes. Once he started, he could go on for hours if he didn't keep himself in check.

The idea struck him when he was watching some animated human show. They called it a "maid cafe". The humans would dress in frilly dresses and serve customers various snacks and drinks. He wasn't sure if it was some strange human fetish, or just a custom he didn't understand, but he sure was intrigued. Something about the way the fabric on their little organic bodies moved just captivated him. Not to mention, it was an opportunity to make some extra money AND potentially get other mechs to actually like him more? Seemed like a win win situation for him.

Swerve was lucky he knew how to cook. Decently, at least. He poured his spark into making a few trays of energon treats. Jellies, candies, even a full multi-layer cake topped with iron filings. The ingredients cost him a bit more than he hoped, but if his calculations were correct he'd be making back at least double what he spent. Not to mention, he got to snack on some of the offcuts. And snack on them he did, until his protoform felt like it was going to burst through his plating.

With the help of some of the craftier bots on board, and the promise of a couple of free drinks, he had everything set up. Decorations and signs showing prices of items written in neat cursive were placed neatly around the bar. It had a totally different vibe, everything feeling... almost cute. Fliers had been pasted around, and given out to curious looking mechs. The pièce de résistance, a human saying he'd learned recently, was the full recreation of the dress one of the girls had been wearing in the show. The only difference was that was red and white, to match his plating, and it was strapless to fit him better. Frills and lace decorated the delicate, yet sturdy, fabric. It was tailored surprisingly perfectly, and fit him well. There was even a zip up the side to make it easier for him to get on without risk of the seams tearing because of his large arms. He didn't even want to try to get the outfit over his wheels, it'd snap immediately. Wearing such a light material over his frame for the first time was an odd experience. It somehow made him feel more exposed, even though he was technically more covered than usual. It made him feel warm and giddy inside, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Swerve wasn't a confident bot. He would go as far as to say he was incredibly self conscious most of the time. But he looked good.

From the moment he officially opened the bar, he was swamped. He was absolutely not expecting so many mechs to be interested. He supposed the promise of homemade sweets was hard to resist, by even the more gruff and serious of mechs. He was overwhelmed at first, but quickly realised just how patient everyone was being. The atmosphere was totally different to that of a bar, and he found himself enjoying it for the most part. The fabric of the skirt brushing against the plating of his thighs was a bit of a distraction at first, and it took him a good while to get used to it. Bots were chatting, eating and having an all around good time. A lot of them even laughed at his jokes! He was stoked.

After a while Swerve needed to take a break. The fabric had been brushing against his inner thighs and gently tickling the front of his panel. He was getting embarrassingly charged up. His cooling fans had long since turned on, which he luckily could rather easily explain away as his frame heating up from the extra layers. He excused himself to the storage room, and let his valve panel open underneath the frilly dress. He felt his inner fans start to spin even faster as the cool breeze washed over the puffy protomesh of his exposed valve and a shiver ran down his backstrut. No one could tell he was exposed. He could play it off. Not to mention, this was more authentic anyway, right? Humans didn't have metal plating to cover themselves up like Cybertronians did. If he wanted to really pay homage to human culture he had to do everything properly... right?

He took a moment to calm himself, and before he could regret it he went back out to the bustling makeshift cafe. He was shocked at just how many mechs were interested in the non-alcoholic beverages and snacks. He'd have to start offering them full time. Every step he took made him aware of the breezy feeling of his valve being exposed. He had to keep reminding himself that no one could tell. He was quickly getting aroused, and he could feel lubricants starting to make his valve feel squishy beneath his skirt.

He was starting to get worried that he was dripping and making a mess on the floor without realising. He was soaked. Even the slightest brush of fabric against his node was making him grit his denta. His vents were running hot, and he was almost worried he'd set fire to his dress. Things were starting to slow down, much to his relief. He'd made more shanix than he thought, sold out all of the treats he had made, nearly completely run out of drinks and mechs were starting to leave. Only a few stragglers remained. He smiled as politely as he could, keeping up the act. He tried to act like his normal chatty self, but he was getting impatient. As soon as the last mech left, he jumped up and locked the door to the bar. He had to... clean up. Clean up so the bar would be tidy and ready for when he opened it in a few hours. That's all he had to do.

His legs were spread wide, his valve on display under the layers of frills of the dress. He couldn't help but look at himself in a makeshift mirror he had set up (nothing more than a rather shiny piece of sheet metal), admiring how... cute he looked. His valve was puffy and fat, the blue bio-light of his node blinking steadily. He bit the fist of his servo, his fans kicking into overdrive as he reached down, spreading protomesh folds. Pearlescent pink lubricants all but gushed out of him, staining the floor of the storage room beneath him. His spike panel slid open with a click. He whined, before slipping one digit into himself, and then another. His servos were big, he knew that much, and his own digits filled himself nicely. He kept admiring himself as he self serviced, two digits deep in his valve and his other servo wrapped around his chubby spike. Lace and frills framed his array, and he couldn't stop thinking about just how good he looked. He'd never admired himself this much before, and he'd certainly never felt this good about himself before.

Charge was crackling from his array, his engine revving and his fans stuttering. His optics flickered beneath his visor, his intake hanging open slightly. He bit his derma hard, before shoving his digits as far into himself as he could, his thumb rubbing circles against his node. He all but sobbed as he overloaded, ropes of transfluid shooting out of his spike and lubricants squirting out of his valve into a messy puddle on the floor beneath him. He took a moment to calm himself, venting heavily as he laid back. Usually after self servicing, he'd feel guilty and pathetic. Like he'd done something wrong. But this time, he just felt tired. It was a nice change of pace from the usual feeling of self loathing that came with his post-overload clarity. He offlined his optics to rest just for a moment. Just... a quick moment.

He awoke from recharge about an hour later. His frame ached, and he felt incredibly sticky all over. His servos, thighs and the floor beneath him were coated in transfluids. He grimaced, wiping it onto the apron of the dress. Looks like he had a load of laundry to do. Not to mention he still had to clean the entirety of the bar before he could open. He sighed, closing his interface panel and reaching into his subspace for a cloth. As he cleaned himself off, his processor swarmed with images of how cute he'd look in different human clothing items and immediately his cooling fans clicked back on. This was going to be a long night.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt; we are so pleased with this Match. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon–hesitates, and looks uncertain. Looks nervous, almost. 

It’s understandable, under the circumstances. He’s never done this before. Not like this. Not following Kryptonian tradition, and not with an actual omega. 

Neither has Kara, of course. But Kon doesn’t know as much as she does, and he needs her. Needs her to explain, and to tell him it’s alright, and to watch his back. 

So that makes it easier, for her. 

“You heard me,” she says, reaching back to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “I'm telling you I approve, and you have my permission.” 

Kon’s pupils dilate enough to almost completely eclipse his irises, his scent burning sharper and smokier, and Kara smiles. 

She really can’t do anything else. 

All she can smell right now is smoke and sugar, but she's almost certain the humans aren't smelling anything at all. They just don't have the same olfactory receptors as Kryptonians do, even discounting the yellow-sun super-senses. They don't register pheromones the same way. 

Well, not alpha and omega ones, at least. She's not as sure about beta, admittedly. 

Humans really do trust Kal's sincerity so quickly, when they meet him face-to-face. Not all of them, obviously, but . . . well, maybe more than makes sense, statistically. 

Kal really is that good, of course–that sincere and genuine–but they believe it. 

Kara's been refraining from experimenting with her own pheromones, given she has far more control of them than Kal has of his. It seems . . . unethical, maybe, with a species that wouldn't know what she was doing if she did. 

Then she hears at least another dozen guards’ boots running up around the corner ahead and can't help remembering this isn't exactly an ethical situation. 

. . . no, no, she doesn't want to put off any pheromones that might throw off Kon or Match. It's more important to do her duty to the El pack properly than anything else, no matter how annoying this shoddy excuse for a pincer movement is about to be. 

“Leave this to me,” she tells Kon, brushing her hair back again and adjusting the lay of her cape. An alpha shouldn't go to their omega smelling like “challengers” that omega has already refused to even consider as worthy of their attention. It just demeans the alpha and insults the omega. 

Kon looks wary, briefly, and glances back at the guards behind them. Kara just pats his arm reassuringly again. 

This is the kind of thing a beta is for, after all.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Various crps x reader who struggles w/ self care

I miss old creepypasta fandom sometimes (unrelated to the post)

Characters: slenderman, eyeless jack, nina the killer, masky

Notes: reader is GN, can be read as romantic or platonic, very self indulgent for the admin but hes keeping it mostly open/vague so those can also enjoy this, admin uses any pronouns for nina

CWs: none

SLENDERMAN

still in love with the idea that hes not fully aware of your needs as a human but hes knows the bare basic minimum- something about him not being a human himself and not regularly interacting with them to know what to look out for blah blah blah/lh

notices youre a little more down than usual and he does his best to find out whats wrong- are you sick? tired? hurt? is his human okay? its kind of like seeing someone fret over their pet, except its this old cryptid and his human friend

mostly stands off to the side and quietly passes you some water and snacks, keeps your glass full so you dont have to keep getting up- or a bottle of water if you would prefer!

though its not unlikely for him to get more assertive with his care, he might just pull you away from bed and try to get you cleaned up. if you let him hes going to be doing everything for you

will interfere with outside things so you can have a day to yourself to rest and recover (ex. fizzing out work calls, messing with any electronics if anyone is bothering you, ect ect, god forbid someones actually making you feel horrible on purpose)

EYELESS JACK

very good at reminding you to drink water and take your meds (if you have them), i like to think that sometimes he lives vicariously through you because you can still eat human foods and that bleeds into generally what you need to put in your body-

what i mean to say is that he is great at keeping track of things for you if you struggle with it! time, energy, or just not having the motivation, hes making sure you get what you need even if you cant do it yourself

does his best to get you some extra boost of vitamins and stuff in an attempt to boost your energy/mood, obviously he knows its not going to be a magic fix but its better than nothing.. hes the one cooking though! for reasons that align with the first bullet point!

very straight forward and blunt when asking if theres anything wrong, he can come off as disinterested or annoyed based off of his tone but genuinely hes trying his best to help you open up... jack himself isnt used to opening up so he doesnt have much experience being gentle and soft

brushes through your hair before you both go to bed

NINA THE KILLER

nina can be a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to this sort of thing as they tend to not... take very good care of themselves.. though its mostly out of not remembering to keep to a routine

does her best to get you to go out and do something with her that will eventually lead to you taking care of yourself in some way- asking you out for lunch or doing an activity that gets you extremely messy so you have to go take a shower

if your lack of proper self care is caused by any personal struggles you may be facing, nina makes it more than clear that you can go to them to talk

easily the most non judgmental person ever, you can tell her nearly everything and shes not going to think of you any differently

opens up about her own struggles to make you feel less alone

THE monarch of reminding you to take your meds, if you have them

MASKY

watches you from the side like a cat, kind of just keeps an eye on you throughout the day to make sure you're still kicking

will push a plate of snacks and your meds to you- like a cursed little charcuterie board!

he would make you a meal but ignoring the fact hes not a good cook at all, he feels it would be easier on you to just have snacks.. better something than nothing

will keep you in bed if youre tired or sore, will keep you pinned to him if he needs to- you might just take it as him wanting to cuddle...

and he never cuddles so to you this is a once in a blue moon experience!

or do you need to get up and stretch? hes going to do something to get you up, be it pestering you until you come to get him to pipe down or trying to get your assistance for something

might even lift his mask up next to you to get you to brush his teeth with him

[cherienymphe]

When The Party’s Over XIII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, forced pregnancy, implied abortion, forbidden relationship, violence, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption,  public sex, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

~

You sat on your bed, staring at the pregnancy test with the sickest feeling in your stomach.

It was the sixth one you’d taken, and although you’d begrudgingly accepted your fate after the fourth, you still just needed to be sure. You needed to make sure you weren’t hallucinating, or it wasn’t a false positive or something. You tried to remember if that was actually a thing.

You stood up, crossing your arms over your chest and staring out of your window.

You were pregnant.

You knew it was true, but even as the thought bounced around in your head, you still didn’t quite believe it. You couldn’t be…and yet the tests didn’t lie. You’d felt like you were on autopilot when you bought them, stuffing them into your purse before Bunny or Cam finally joined you at the register. For some reason, you hadn’t expected them to be positive. Periods became irregular for all kinds of reasons, namely stress, and God knows you’d had a lot of that lately.

You’d initially forced yourself not to freak out, telling yourself to at least wait. Well, now the time had come…and you were freaking out. You never missed a pill, not quite ready to look into the kind of birth control that required putting something in you whether it be a shot in your arm or some foreign object between your legs. After that first morning, you didn’t want a repeat of running into someone you’d rather not while trying to prevent an unwanted pregnancy.

For obvious reasons, Rafe didn’t really like to use condoms. You’d tried once or twice while you’d been waiting for said birth control to be ready for pickup, and he’d made his distaste obvious, lips brushing your ear as he begged you to let him take it off. In the throes of passion, you made a decision that wasn’t the smartest, and you’d only been grateful you hadn’t come to regret it. Which is why your current predicament was…mind-boggling.

You stared down at the familiar pills, turning them over with a frown, sinking your teeth into your lip.

How could you be pregnant? You didn’t know why you kept wondering about that. After all, in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter how you came to be pregnant. Using several forms of birth control wasn’t 100% effective, let alone just one. Wondering how this could’ve happened wasn’t going to change anything.

No.

What mattered was what you were going to do about it.

That was the only question that mattered, and tears kissed your eyes. You loved kids. They were brutally honest, funny, and didn’t really have the kind of fear needed to prevent them from doing the most life endangering things. They were just little humans trying to develop into their own persons…

…but you were eighteen.

You wanted to go to college next year. You wanted to drink and travel and actually experience your life before dedicating it to someone else. Was it selfish? Sure, but you were barely one step into adulthood. It wasn’t wrong to be selfish, and yet, with all of that being said, you didn’t feel right about considering your most obvious choice here.

You sat back down, staring at your wall.

Rafe had made it clear that he wasn’t boyfriend material. He wasn’t the kind of guy you needed to be with, but was it possible that a crappy boyfriend could be a good dad? Did he still have that right to be given a chance to prove himself in that regard? Did he have the right to know? Or were you kidding yourself? There was some part of you that hoped this baby would make Rafe grow up and be better for its sake…

…but there was a part of you that wondered if he’d seize this opportunity.

He’d made it clear that he didn’t want you to leave him, and his word choice during that phone call was not lost on you. He’d held nothing back as he called your breakup a mere attempt at leaving him, and you swallowed. If you told Rafe…you might regret it forever. Rafe was a lot of things, you’d come to learn, but would he really use his own child against you?

You laughed almost as soon as you thought that.

If Rafe could hurt your brother in an attempt to stay with him, then there was no doubt that he’d use your child to get the same result. Even still, you didn’t want to get rid of it. You didn’t feel right about that no matter how much you knew you needed to, and a few tears escaped as you hoped Rafe would prove you wrong.

You wondered why you even wanted him to, to be honest. Sure, as much as you would if you had to, you didn’t actually want to get rid of this baby, but was it worth everything that would follow? Was it worth Pope and your family finding out? Pope hating you? Possibly even hating the baby too? More importantly, was it worth forgiving Rafe?

It would be pretty difficult to co-parent with a man you were starting to hate. All the things he did to you aside, he’d seriously hurt Pope just to get back at you, to hurt you. You would’ve never thought he could sink so low, and in this moment, that was unforgiveable to you. A baby would change things, would force your feelings and attitude to change for its sake, and quite frankly, you weren’t ready yet. You probably never would be.

Feeling angry and overwhelmed, you swiped the pregnancy tests and tossed them in your garbage, hating what your life had become.

You nervously looked around for a familiar blond, Cam at your side. You’d agreed to going to another party with only one reason in mind, and his name was Rafe Cameron. As much as you wanted to talk to him about the baby, you needed to get some other things out of the way first, and your anger fueled your courage to confront him about Pope.

You had no intention of seeing him alone, barely wanting anything to do with him.

At a party with tons of witnesses around made you feel better, safer, and you sipped on your sprite. If Cam thought your refusal for alcohol was weird, she didn’t voice it. Bunny had disappeared moments ago, and with no sign of anyone from that familiar trio, you were starting to think that you’d come out for nothing.

Then Cam had called his name.

“Kelce!”

You turned, following her line of sight and watching her run into her boyfriend’s arms. As expected, he wasn’t alone, and you didn’t miss the way Topper made himself scarce as your eyes met Rafe’s. Your ex-boyfriend’s face was even, unreadable, but even without being a mind reader, you had a pretty good guess as to where his head was at.

Taking a deep breath, you approached him.

“We need to talk.”

You didn’t miss the slight smirk that danced along his lips, and you felt anger flare up at the light chuckle he let out.

“Alright,” he said, starting to move past you when you stopped him.

“No. Here.”

You could tell that that pissed him off, smirk dropping and eyes hardening as he stared you down. It was clear he did not want to have this conversation in the front yard of some random’s house, surrounded by partygoers. It was like looking into the face of some evil doppelgänger, finding it hard to believe that this was the same man who’d told you he loved you. The same man who’d given you your first real kiss, who’d taken your virginity, who’d been damn near perfect at one time.

Who’d gotten you pregnant.

Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek as he waited for you to start talking.

“What is wrong with you?”

You didn’t know how else to broach the subject, and Rafe simply blinked at you, shrugging.

“Am I supposed to just know what you’re talking about or…?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Rafe. Don’t do that,” you spat.

He simply stared at you, but the hint of a smile on his pink lips had you swallowing down the urge to hit him.

“You attacked Pope,” you reminded him. “You and Topper jumped him.”

Rafe hummed to himself, looking around.

“Well, you know how things can get between the Kooks and Pogues around here,” was all he said, and you wanted to cry.

“You promised me-.”

“I promised you what?” he wondered, gaze meeting yours again. “…I remember promising my girlfriend something…”

Your stomach twisted, and Rafe tilted his head, slowly dragging his eyes over your frame.

“…but I don’t have one anymore, right? So, what did I promise you?”

With Rafe’s confirmation of your suspicions, you took a step back, shaking your head in disbelief.

“So, that’s how it’s going to be?” you tearfully wondered. “I break up with you and…you hurt my brother? To what? Get back at me? Hurt me? Make me change my mind?”

Rafe took a deep breath, taking a step towards you, and then another until he was so close you could smell that familiar cologne of his. His chest almost brushed yours, and your heart started to race as he looked down his nose at you.

“Do whatever you want, beautiful,” he whispered. “…but don’t expect me to uphold some bullshit obligation to someone who tossed me aside like trash.”

You frowned at him, opening your mouth when he continued.

“I don’t owe you shit.”

You swallowed.

“…and I owe that Pogue even less-.”

“That Pogue is my brother,” you sneered.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me, now?” he wondered, head tilted, a deep frown on his face. “You think that means shit to me?”

You glanced away.

“If you want it to…I’m sure you can think of something to change my mind.”

Your gaze was stricken when it met his again, and your lips trembled.

“Did you think I was joking when I told you you’d be sorry?” he scoffed, laughing to himself. “You know, I never thought you were dumb. Never.”

He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head at you.

“Sweet. Innocent. Too innocent, maybe, but never dumb,” he whispered. “…but you must be if you think I’m just going to let you walk away from me.”

You were frozen, too scared and shocked to move, and Rafe’s face grew stony, cold eyes looking between your tearful ones.

“You are mine,” he slowly told you. “I made sure of that when I spread your legs without a second thought.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and for a moment, you actually forgot how to breathe.

“…and if it wasn’t for you, I would’ve made sure this whole island knew a long time ago.”

“You ass-.”

“I still might.”

Your skin grew cold, and there wasn’t an ounce of humor on Rafe’s face as he threatened you while everyone around you was none the wiser.

“Do you have any idea how much I can make your life a living hell? Hmm?”

Against your will, a few tears escaped, skipping down your face, and you stared at Rafe like he was a total stranger. He reached up then, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks and wiping them away, a small sigh leaving him.

“No guy in his right mind would even look in your direction, and the friends you think you’ve got?” he paused. “Bunny loves a good party…and Cam is just so head over heels for Kelce. I could make them both laughing stocks if I wanted.”

You blinked, and Rafe’s hands were still on your face.

“I will turn this whole island against you, including your brother, and when it’s all said and done,” he quietly told you, leaning in and kissing your forehead. “I’m still going to fuck you every single night because I always get what I want.”

His words had you throwing yourself away from him, stumbling away in horror. Rafe didn’t look bothered, at all, wiping his hand over the bottom half of his face and looking at you like you two were having a regular old conversation.

“Like I said,” he started, face falling and actually looking like he felt bad for you. You knew better though. “You’re not stupid, beautiful. So, don’t be.”

He brushed past you, his hand coming up to graze your waist as he did, and everyone around you was too drunk to notice your distress. As terrified and shaken as you were, you couldn’t deny how grateful you were feeling. You hadn’t even brought up the predicament you found yourself in because Rafe, unknowingly, had made the decision for you.

He’d shown you exactly who he would be if you had this baby.

Pope’s tone was bordering along irritated as he asked you what you wanted. You stood in his doorway, more nervous and terrified than you’d ever been. He was fiddling with something that you no doubt wouldn’t understand, hardly paying you any attention, but you knew that wouldn’t last for much longer. You reached up, rubbing your neck with both hands.

“You have money saved up, right? Like…for emergencies and stuff?”

That got his attention, and your brother officially stopped what he was doing, turning to look at you with a frown. He stared at you long and hard, clearly trying to gage where this conversation was going.

“Yeah,” he slowly said.

You blew out a breath, licking your lips as you glanced away. You knew you just needed to come out and say it, but you felt like you were going to be sick all over his floor. Considering your situation, you probably were.

“I…I need your help,” you choked out, meeting his gaze again.

Pope chuckled to himself, leaning back in his chair, and you could tell by the look on his face that he thought you needed money for some useless bullshit or something. Your lips parted, and the longer you hesitated, the more your eyes watered. You cleared your throat, looking down, shaking and trying to stop yourself from throwing up.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the sound of his voice, and his expression was completely different, now. There was a frown on his face, and Pope was leaning forward, eyes focused on your tearful ones.

“What’s wrong? What do you need money for?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, and you looked towards the ceiling.

“Pope…you have to promise me that you…” you hesitated, shifting on your feet. “You have to promise me that you won’t say anything to mom and dad.”

You looked back to him, gaze pleading.

“…and you have to swear you won’t get mad.”

Pope snorted, shaking his head.

“No way,” he laughed, and you bit your lip, reluctantly accepting that.

You sighed to yourself before nodding.

“Okay,” you said, turning away when he spoke again.

“Y/N.”

You looked at him, and any humor was wiped from his face as he stood, now, studying you.

“Are you serious, right now? It’s…it’s that serious? I need to be sworn to secrecy?”

“Pope, I… I really fucked up, okay?” you admitted. “…and I’m trying to un-fuck it all up, and I need your help.”

His shoulders drooped, and you could see the concern on his face.

“…but if you can’t keep this between us, then that’s fine, and I’ll figure something else out-.”

“Okay, okay!” he relented, raising his hands. “I swear I won’t say anything, and…I guess I’ll try not to get mad.”

His face was as serious as you were sure yours was, and you believed him. There really was no going back, and so, fighting the urge to hurl, you told him.

“I need money…for an abortion.”

You knew that would be the last thing he ever expected, and the way his entire demeanor changed only confirmed that. His face didn’t just fall, it twisted into a mix of confusion and disbelief, like he heard your words but didn’t quite understand them. His mouth fell open before snapping it shut, and Pope crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side.

Your brother turned away, staring at the wall as his frown deepened, and when he finally looked at you again, there was nothing calm about the look in his eyes.

“What?”

“You said-.”

“I said I would try,” he corrected. “What-what the hell do you mean an abortion? This is a joke, right?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” you tearfully fired back, gesturing to yourself. “Look at me! I’m asking you of all people for help, Pope. I don’t know what else to do!”

You had considered going to Cam or Bunny, knowing they had the money and would agree in a heartbeat, but that was too risky. You didn’t trust Cam not to let it slip to Kelce, and you didn’t trust Bunny not to tell Cam who could let it slip to Kelce. The chances were too great, and if Kelce knew, Rafe would find out one way or another. Either straight from his mouth or Topper’s.

You decided that you had to bite the bullet and give Pope a crumb of the truth.

You didn’t need to tell him everything, especially the big unknown he’d wonder about. You and Rafe were over, and you intended to keep it that way, so there was no reason for Pope to even know. For him to get mad over something that would stay in the past. He wouldn’t be able to go back in time and prevent you from dating Rafe, but he could help you get away from him for good, because there was no doubt in your mind that if Rafe knew you were pregnant, your life as you knew it would be over.

Pope’s face crumbled at the look on yours, and you watched him swallow, jaw clenching as he turned away.

“Get out.”

You weren’t sure you heard him, at first, and you blinked.

“What?” you whispered.

“Get. Out,” he slowly repeated, still refusing to look at you as he said the words loud and clear.

You needed to know what he was thinking, and you needed to know what he was going to do, but you nodded even though he couldn’t see. Reluctantly, you did just that, feeling like crap for so many reasons. Maybe it was the hormones that had you crying again, or maybe your life was just becoming that tragic that it was the only appropriate response.

You sat down on your bed, thinking about Rafe’s words and the way they scared you to your core. Rafe didn’t want to let you go, and there was a huge part of you that was terrified he wouldn’t. He had money, so much more than you, and he had the influence that you could only dream of. You believed him when he said he’d make your life hell, and while you needed to figure out how to deal with that when that day came, you would be damned if he used an innocent child to do it.

You didn’t sleep much, stewing over your conversations with both Pope and Rafe, feeling like you were at a crossroads and your life could go either way. It was so early, the sun not even peeking over the horizon when there was a knock on your door. You hadn’t been asleep for about an hour, and you had resigned yourself to staying awake, anyway.

When you answered it, you were somewhat shocked to find Pope on the other side. By the look on his face, you wondered how much sleep he’d been able to get too. He didn’t look the happiest as he looked at you, and weirdly enough, it felt relieving to see the disappointment in his eyes. It was a reminder that you’d really gotten yourself into some mess, and you were determined to never make Pope look at you like that again.

“I’ve got pop’s truck for the day,” he finally said, scratching the back of his head. “There’s a Planned Parenthood in Charlotte.”

You perked up at that, eyes widening a bit.

“They take walk-ins, but it’s based on urgency and capacity and stuff like that,” he quietly mumbled. “So, we need to leave like…now.”

Your eyes watered, and Pope wouldn’t look at you, his gaze focused on his feet, but you didn’t care. Your stomach flipped for an entirely different reason, and you shakily nodded.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Yeah, okay, let me… I’m gonna get dressed.”

Pope nodded, turning away, and you stared after him before closing your door and searching for something to put on.

You laid in bed, staring at your ceiling with a deep frown.

In truth, you didn’t want to get an abortion. Not fully, and that decision was definitely something you always thought you should be 100% sure about. You’d been sure that you didn’t want Rafe to have any kind of hold on you. You’d been sure of that, but that was about it. In truth, you guessed that was all that mattered.

Pope had been quiet the whole ride there, and you’d accepted that until the drive back. You closed your eyes, still recalling the way he’d yelled at you when you refused to answer the one question you’d been dreading.

“You…you can’t tell me?”

His tone had been incredulous in the truck, and his eyes were wide as he looked between you and the road.

“No…I can’t.”

“Are you serious, right now? You remember where we’re driving from, right?”

The sound of your hand striking his arm had been loud in the vehicle, and you blinked back tears.

“You swear me to secrecy, I literally paid, and you can’t even tell me who?”

You had turned your head towards the window, struggling to swallow.

“I know you know,” he’d spat. “You’re not that kind of girl. You know who it is, and you know what else?”

You’d avoided his eye, but you could feel his heated gaze boring into the side of your face.

“I think it’s the same guy who did that shit to your neck.”

You hadn’t responded, merely keeping your gaze forward, and when it became clear you weren’t budging, you heard Pope mumble something to himself. That had been hours ago, and the last time you saw him, you’d been staring at his back after slamming the truck door closed.

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to thank him.

His anger left a sour taste in your mouth, but it was justified. You knew that much. Pope had every right to be angry and confused and concerned. That was all it really boiled down to, really—concern. Pope was scared and concerned, and rightfully so. It scared you that he made the connection between the incident at Rafe’s house and your pregnancy, and his anger only reminded you of the fact that if he knew it was Rafe,  it would be hell.

The little tiff between Pope’s friends and Rafe would be an all out war.

You were thinking that the full weight of what you did would finally hit you in a week or so when you heard it. A noise outside of your window. You sat up with a slight frown, mind racing as you wondered if it was Pope. It was too late for anyone to be up and outside, but you still found yourself slowly moving towards the window.

You’d been locking it lately, too paranoid and worried.

You didn’t think Rafe would stoop to that level, but the key word was ‘think’. There were a lot of things you didn’t think Rafe would do that he’d done. Like try to drown you, hurt Pope because you dumped him, threaten you at a party. Your curtains were closed, but you still stared at them like you could see through them.

When you heard another noise, you were too scared to pull them back, too afraid of what or who you might see. Your heart started racing, and you just reached for your curtains when you heard a noise…like someone trying to open your window. It was locked, of course, but the sound made your blood run cold, nonetheless.

It was impossible, but it was like he knew. It was like he knew what you did, what you’d deprived him of, and when you yanked the curtain back, only an empty yard met you. No one was there, and as you stared into the empty darkness, it felt like someone was staring back.

[viovicugna]

Longing

Barbatos can't remember how long it's been. It must've been millenia since he first saw them in his visions. He always had been conflicted when it came to his visions, as it was never clear which time line it would be the future of. In general he came to find they mostly concerned how the current future would go, should they continue with their actions. Thanks to him Devildom had always been prepared to face threats ahead of time.

Although, he couldn't say his visions were something he looked forward to. They were unpredictable, either completely useless or events with possibly disastrous results. Never had he thought to describe them as pleasant or even lovely. Perhaps his mind just wasn't searching for lovely things to see. All of that changed after he saw them for the first time all those thousands of years ago.

It was one of the rare times he actually slept, let alone in a timely manner. That night he had a vision of a Human, a very special Human. He saw them infront of a stove looking down at a plate of sweet treats and tea. They looked up and smiled at him, complementing his baking skills. Strange... this was the first time he remembered having a vision from his perspective. Besides that; he didn't bake. He made excellent tea, that's true but his culinary experience was lacking to say the least. That was not his responsibility but the royal chef's.

He tried brushing it off in the morning, focusing on serving the young Prince instead. It likely would have been a lot easier if it weren't for that strange lacking he felt. The vision left a sickeningly sweet taste in his mouth and had his heart beating loudly in his chest. That was new.

He started looking forward to these visions of them, as short as they were, when they started reappearing. He knew near to nothing about that mysterious Human, neither name nor status or even interests. The time of which it'd take place was unclear also, the Devildome barely changed from what he knew, but their way of talking was so different from what he was used to, just like their clothing and mannerisms.

Never had he particularly felt connected to his sin, that being greed. The last time must've been... maybe close to a hundred thousand years ago. He himself, ironically, had trouble keeping track of his lifetime. I guess being an allmighty Demon looking through time and space does that to you. Ever since they appeared in his visions though, he felt almost impatient. Barbatos wanted to meet them, to get to know all about them and spoil them rotten. He wanted their attention, all of their time. It felt good to finally have an outlet for his sin. He even started picking up new hobbies such as baking and cooking, mainly due to curiosity since he apparently will be such a wonderful chef in the future. He found it came easily to him, and it was a whole lot of fun. His master would be pleased with the delicious pastries and meals he'd cook up and he could entertain himself in some way.

To know that he was the only one aware of the Humans (future) existence pleased him. It satiated part of his greed, but only helped to strengthen his longing.

Over the years he grew even more stoic, professional and experienced. He carried himself with grace and poise elegantly catering to the royal family, they had quickly become his number one priority. The visions didn't stop, he learned to weaken his greed, there were more important things to deal with in the present. While part of him wanted to know who they are and when he'll finally get to see them, he knew it would only serve to distract him more. Instead he relished in the fact of not knowing when he'll meet that mysterious Human. Finally he had something to look forward to in life, a goal to reach. But never would he have imagined just how important that Human would end up being, not just to him but to all those around him.

[mybrain-fanficedition]

I have some Harry Potter art I did that I just realized I never actually posted

Anyways, these are from this summer on and in chronological order starting with this drawing of Sirius I used in an animation

This style is absolutely not my usual one, I was drawing on Adobe Animate which has way fewer brushes [...that I could find lol- I have since figured it out a bit more but it's fun to experiment] and you can very much see that I gave up trying to redraw his hands lol (i just color picked from my reference pic and colored right on top in a new layer bc animation is hard enough like that)

(I'll reblog with the animation when I find it bc I do not remember in the slightest where I put it)

Up next is a Drarry thing I did in Photoshop both to test out Ps and to illustrate one of @drarrily-we-row-along 's fics iirc (yes this was this summer, yes I have no recollection of it lol)

Again, not my usual style but I guess my usual style is me doing doodles in class so this could definitely become my usual style

Sirius Black again! Based on a pic of Kit Connor

Did I spend the most time drawing and shading the pool toy despite the fact that there's a whole entire human in the pic? Absolutely lol

Next up, Black brothers!

This was meant to be a quick sketch to try out some new brushes/new coloring style bc I actually decided to watch a CSP (clip studio paint) tutorial for once

Based off of the technique of using watercolor brushes, I did the four houses

The raven/crow/eagle/whatever bird that is is traced bc birds are really hard to draw and I just noticed that the brush is visible hovering over the lion but oh well

This one is really just because the cottage my family stayed at during vacation had a sauna lol

This was actually a pretty fast drawing because the background is a picture which makes it so much easier, especially given that I drew that in a moving car

Also his glasses are floating lol i'm so good at details like that [i have glasses i should know how to draw glasses]

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Measuring the Choices Ahead

Content: Trigun Stampede fanfiction. The group has spent a week on the ship with Brad and Luida. With Brad doing some scans on Obsidian (OC) to also give several of the group time to talk things out and come together. Mention of trauma. Mention of violence. Mention of torture. Mention of experimentation. Point of view character is an OC that has been experimented on to now be part Plant, part other, part nanomchine cyborg.

Brad did his best to be gentle with his tinkering and studying my mechanical nanomachine enhancements. His every touch to my actual skin making him flinch to mutter under his breath. So I stayed still as he did his best to come up with any kind of understanding of what had been done to me. While the Plant markings along my frame gave off a muted glow as he worked. A kind of silent understanding having formed between us. He knew being so unforgivingly changed into whatever one might name me. The fusing me with Dependants as much as that nanomachine metal augmentation making me so much more than just a simple human being. Yet Luida and Brad welcomed me with open arms when Vash had brought us here. The first week of our stay here having me just soaking in the sunshine in the arboretum.

A loud clang had Brad curse and hop away from my bed as he held his one foot up to growl and fume. My eyes opening to look to him as Brad dropped his still fuming ass in a chair and rub his foot with both hands. So I waited until he stopped cussing to ask him, "You need me to splint your foot for you?" Brad glared at me to give a chuff of noise. "No. You keep your smart butt right where you are, Obsidian. You even so much as think about telling the others I dropped my scanner on my foot and I will toss you out the air lock."

My smile was soft but genuine as I hummed at him. Yet the warmth didn't reach my eyes as I just let my body ease back into the bed. Which Brad took notice of to just shake his head and huff a growl out. His own gaze tracing over the fused metal and nanowires that had been part of that horrid time of experimentation and torture I had endured. But he soon stood back up to get back to his work as the door opened. I knew it was Wolfwood from the way his shadow moved across the floor towards us. The shuffle of his steps and the lingering scent of his smokes a dead giveaway. Until he was standing by the bed to have a small carry bag strapped to his front. Making Brad pause to ask, "What did you bring with you? I'm not done yet." Wolfwood gave a shrug to take out a very sturdy brush and some hair ties from the carry bag. "Luida suggested I get my idle fingers working and help Obsidian with her hair. Since it's so long and would get in the way unless we braid it."

Brad rolled his eyes to not argue the point. His gaze going from me to his scanner to wave a hand as he walked to the computer console close to the bed. "Be easier if we just cut her hair. Just try not to move her around much. The actual bed is doing scans of it's own to add to what I've already done." Wolfwood nodded to scoot the one chair over and begin brushing my hair and the ends. Which reached down to my knees by now. His fingers calloused yet sure in their movements as he spoke with me. The warmth in his tones having my tension melt away under his presence. "Meryl said you told her you always wanted long hair like this. So I knew you would say no to cutting it. Might have to trim the ends by a couple inches. But I do think with some time and good shampoo the shine might just come back." Wolfwood kept up the brushing as I let my natural defenses down. Making the dull glow of my Plant markings take on a different hue to match my mood. "Luida said there are several hair styles that would let me put my hair in a braided bun. So we might do that to keep it out of my way during our travels. At least that was my go to plan."

Wolfwood hesitated for but a second before he went back to brushing my hair. A dead give away to a lingering question no one had voiced. So I charged right into that conversation without a real care for subtlety. "If either of you think that I'm not going the rest of the way, then you need a reality check. Not for myself. I don't care what they did to me or anything about the past on my end. The only thing that matters to me is standing with Vash towards the future. My choice. So none of you have any real right to stop me. Regret is best left for those to cowardly to act upon what their head and heart tells them to do."

Brad gave a warm sounding chuckle from his position at the computer as Wolfwood gave a low snarl from deep in his chest. Yet he just kept on brushing to let his anger out with words. "Damn you and your stubborn ass. Goes through absolute Hell and has unholy evil bastards literally remake you into a weapon and breeding tool. Loses most of your humanity and possibly most of your memory besides that. Yet all you want to do is charge headfirst into a fight with a practical deity and his softhearted twin to have who knows what else happen. It's stupid and crazy and not what you should be doing. You should be getting as far away from all of this as fast as you can go."

My sigh is rich but sad as I gave a truth of my own. "Anywhere else and any other future is cheap, degrading and worthless. What I can remember assures me of that one thing. So I'm going to do what I want and choose to be with the one that is my world and reason for living. No matter how short or how dangerous that future is. Vash is my sun. I will accept no other road. He will protest and beg and cry and yell and break his own heart over and over. However, I will always choose to stand beside him. Even if it means I have to rope and tie him to a rock to keep him from running away from my choice." Brad gives a bark of a laugh to look back at me and smirk. A knowing glint in his eyes as he speaks with added amusement. "Might just have to do that if you want for him to actually listen and accept that. But we got plenty of rope to use."

Wolfwood snickers for me to instantly notice that someone was listening beyond the door to the medical room. A zap of realization having my whole body shiver as the Plant markings sparked to bright purple. Which both men took notice of as my eyes watered and my body quaked on the bed. A small alarm going off on the computer as I felt so much all at once. Which Wolfwood took the hint to get up and head for the door. His voice gruff but full of concern when it opened. "Stop right there, Needle Noggin. Just get in here and stay with her. Unless you want to leave her like this." Those steps sounded like mountains rumbling as some part of me quaked in apprehension. Overwhelming feelings of many different varieties clashing inside as I cried quietly. But soon Wolfwood began brushing my hair once more. While Vash kneeled right in front of my face to place his only hand to my cheek. A brushing of gentle fogged power zipping from the edge of my senses to then spark into multiples of warming affection and desperate levels of comfort. Such flayed and ravaged desperation to give to someone this one soul valued above themselves. It left me breathless and in sheer awe over who this one is who is named Vash. A keening sound ripping through my throat as I leaned my face into his to have us rub noses.

Vash gave soft sounds of gentle warmth as his loving energy tickled at me. A connection of indescribable wonder there for us to weave thought and feeling in the souls fathomless depths. Understanding to be the outcome as well as acceptance in just a dozen breaths. So the both of us had tears trekking down our faces when Vash finally spoke. "Okay. I see your choice and the heart of it's reasoning now. I won't go against you on this, Marsaili." Wolfwood paused to look a bit surprised that Vash just used my actual name. Yet Vash wasn't done speaking as he sniffled and gave a choked sob. "Marsaili Käthe Albrecht. You are too good for me to hurt by letting my fear dictate these next steps. A lesson you helped to teach me with bold challenge. When I go to confront Nai, you will be hand in hand with me. We go together or not at all. Along with Wolfwood." Vash turned to Wolfwood as the he finished brushing my hair for me. A grumbled huff sounding out from Wolfwood in reply as my own sniffle escaped. So Wolfwood made the point as Brad brought over a blanket to place over me as I stayed laying on my stomach. Brad only pause to pat Vash on the shoulder before he spoke up. "Smart move. Since I would have locked down the entire ship if you tried to leave without her. You're learning to let others tie themselves to your wagon, Vash. Just do your best not to crash the entire sandsteamer."

My smile had Vash sigh before Wolfwood began the task of braiding my hair at the crown of my head. Which Vash used his only hand to help with as Brad went back to scanning me with the hand scanner in places. Paying particular attention to the metal scales and spider thread wires fused along my spine and back. His frown a soft one as he gave a slight whistle of amazement. "That being said. I was not expecting for your injuries to be healing up this fast. After that stunt you pulled to spiral kick the sandsteamer cannon with your whole body weight. Seriously, never do that kind of thing again. Or I will nail you down to this very bed or toss you in a sleeping pod until doomsday." I nodded in acceptance for Vash to give a full body shudder at the memory. His words full of deep sadness and regret as he closed his eyes. "I was so sure you snapped your spine in half when you did that. Desperate as we all were. It terrified me to have that thought shatter my reality. Only to see your whole body steaming and some of the nanometal misaligned to cut into your body..." Wolfwood nods to then take a second to smack my rump with the flat side of the brush. "Took ten years off my life with that shit. Only to lose another ten when I saw you laying there in active surgery for the robots and lost tech to fuse you back together."

Bard winced to rub the back of his neck with one hand. "Not my fault that I didn't have much to tell you during that operation. The ship itself got several dozen transmissions and signals sent in. All for old programs I didn't ever see before to start running and processing so many files and data it was a blur of text. I'm just glad that the nanotech has a kind of underlying AI program setup to read out what is needed and what the programs are meant to do to help. Luida was able to convince me not to shoot the damn computer with a stun gun just as your group got brought on board for someone to give us a progress report. But I am glad all of you healed up in so little time." Wolfwood chose to get super quiet at that to finish tying the hairband on the end of my braid. While Vash gave that nervous laugh that gave everything away. So I moved to take Vash's hand and lace our fingers together. While my other hand did the same for the hand Wolfwood had that was free. Squeezing those hands to then smile. "Still have some resting and healing to do. But for now, I say we start thinking about food."

[deepspacedukat]

Good Aim

This fic is NOT RELATED to the 2-part Rekar story that I started last year during Kinktober. Yes, this is still set aboard the Prometheus, but it’s completely separate.

Day 13: Moneyshot

SoC prompt list here. SoC Masterlist here. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Rekar (ST:VOY) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Human/Romulan sex, sex on a holodeck, oral sex (male receiving), sex as a distraction, rough oral sex, moneyshot, dirty talk, power play, slight degradation kink, fingering, orgasm delay, mention of touch telepathy.

~*~

This was an ambitious plan. If I was caught, I would be at the mercy of the Romulan who had killed my shipmates. He’d probably make my death rather unpleasant. Voyager’s EMH and the EMH from our ship helped me come up with a plan to retake the Prometheus.

Unfortunately for me, I was the bait.

Masking my bio-signature as I crawled through the Jefferies tubes was the easy part. Doing so while overriding the holodeck controls had been a significantly more difficult juggling act. The Voyager EMH managed to sedate a female Romulan officer, and I’d commed the bridge pretending to be her, garbling the connection enough that I could pass my voice off as hers with relative ease.

“Commander, would you please come to the holodeck? I believe I’ve discovered something that requires your attention,” I requested, and once he said he was on his way, I set up the program I needed. I had to distract the Romulan C.O. while the two holograms made their move on the Bridge. As long as Rekar was out of the way, the boys would have a chance. I had no experience flying a starship. I was just a reserve engineer here to work on minor systems.

Dressing for the part that I was going to play was easy. It was actually getting into the role that I found difficult. Before I was even close to fully prepared, the doors to the holodeck opened with a hiss to reveal the target of my deception.

There really was no need for him to be that handsome, but it made my job so much easier.

“Sub-commander?” He called out in confusion when he could find his officer nowhere amongst the sand and sunlight. Sauntering up to him with a little extra swish in my hips, I put on my most confident facade.

“Welcome to Risa, the pleasure planet! We aim to make your stay as stimulating as possible,” I greeted him, and Rekar’s eyes flitted over to me. Giving me a slow, appreciative once over, he took in the skimpy bathing suit I was wearing and smirked.

“Well, well, these Federation types know how to make the most of test-flights, I’ll give them that,” he said as I walked right up to him and ran my hands across his shoulders. Gripping my waist, I watched as the Commander’s gaze slid down to my cleavage. “Did they program a name for you?”

I hadn’t anticipated that, but looking around in what I hoped appeared to be good-natured confusion, I blinked up at him.

“Y’know, I don’t think they did. I guess that means you can call me whatever name gives you the most pleasure,” I crooned stepping a little closer and giving him my best bedroom eyes. The dilation of Rekar’s pupils accompanied by the hungry expression that crossed his face made me almost hope that the holograms wouldn’t succeed in their mission. This Commander was much too attractive.

“Hm...I don’t know much about Human names, but I’ve always liked the Romulan name T’Rea,” he murmured as his gaze drifted down to my lips. “I’ve never had a Human woman before. Even if you are just a program...I wonder how realistic you are.”

“Those who ran this program before you claimed I was better than some of the real women they’d experienced,” I murmured leaning in closer and brushing my lips against his in a teasing half-kiss. “I’d be more than happy to show you my skills...”

“As pleasant as that would be, I should get back to the Bridge,” the Romulan murmured beginning to take a step away. I caught one of his hands in mine and moved close enough to kiss my way slowly up his cheekbone.

“Surely a few minutes couldn’t hurt? After all, it’s a hard job running a starship, and you feel so tense...” Dragging my tongue slowly up the shell of his ear and sucking gently on the point, I took a chance on Romulan physiology being similar to that of Vulcans. Tracing my fingers slowly, sensually down his, I tried to show him intimacy in a way he might be more familiar with.

Apparently, I guessed correctly. With a hungry little hum, Rekar nodded his head.

“It’s been too long since I was with a woman. Just one question before we begin. Why was this program not listed in the directory?”

Well, I certainly couldn’t tell him it was because I’d just created it. Instead, I let out a giggle and lowered my voice in a conspiratorial way.

“You don’t really believe that Starfleet Command would have approved of a Captain bringing this sort of program on a test-flight, do you? There couldn’t be any official record of me, so only his most trusted officers knew I was here,” I explained skimming my hands down the front of the Romulan’s uniform and pausing suggestively over his abdomen. “Now, what sort of attention would please you the most?”

Running his eyes up and down my body, Rekar licked his lips and raised an eyebrow as if in challenge.

“I’ve heard Humans use their mouths for intimacy,” he said grasping one of my hands in his. “If that’s true...I want to see you on your knees...with your mouth right here.”

He guided my hand to the rather sizable bulge at the apex of his thighs. I’d definitely imagined him wanting much worse than that for this encounter. Hell, I’d been terrified he’d find out I was a Starfleet officer and end my existence with the disruptor holstered on his belt.

“Would you prefer to sit or remain standing, handsome?” I asked, and he led me over to one of the lounge chairs set up near the water. Dropping obediently to my knees on the warm sand, I watched as he unfastened his black pants and exposed his length for me. He was larger than I’d expected.

“If you’re intimida–” Rekar broke off with a moan as I sucked him into my mouth. Almost immediately, he went from half-mast to hard as a rock. The Commander watched me move atop his length with hooded eyelids and parted lips. “Elements...”

Moaning low in my throat so that he could feel the vibrations, I used all the tricks I’d learned over the years to bring him pleasure. One of his large hands brushed my hair from my face just in time for me to look up and meet his gaze. His half-lidded eyes were filled with hunger as I sucked him deeper in my mouth.

After several long moments, Rekar got to his feet and gripped my head carefully as he started thrusting into my mouth. He was slow - almost gentle - at first, but as the frequency of his groans increased, so did the speed of his hips. For a man who’d never experienced oral sex, he had adapted to the situation quickly.

Thrusting as deeply as he could and holding himself there until my eyes watered, he let out a low growl before resuming his prior tempo.

“Such an obedient little slut,” the Romulan crooned as he used me. His voice was rough, almost as if he was overwhelmed. He was breathing heavily as he thrust even faster. I gagged around his length several times, feeling my own warm slick drip down my inner thighs. “I can smell your arousal. Touch yourself, but don’t you dare orgasm until I allow it.”

Stuffing one hand down into my bikini bottoms, a wave of embarrassment flowed over me at how wet I’d become from Rekar’s attentions. I rubbed my clit slowly, carefully, not allowing myself to get too close to the edge. I had to appear to be an obedient character as programmed - or at least, that’s how I mentally justified my compliance to myself. A whimper bubbled up my throat, and the Commander grunted above me.

Before long, he let out a strangled shout and pulled out of my throat. One hand gripped my jaw to keep my head steady while the other rubbed his lok hard and fast. I’d barely processed his intentions when he erupted, spurting cum across my nose and eyelids in hot ropes.

He’d barely dropped back down onto his chair when he coaxed me to my feet and tugged me onto his lap.

“Look at you. My cum is dripping down your face, and you’re more aroused than most of the women I’ve slept with. As much as I wish you could stay that way, let me clean you up. Keep those lovely eyes closed,” he murmured, and after a moment’s pause, a soft cloth skimmed quickly over my face, wiping away the sticky residue of his passion. One of Rekar’s large hands grasped my throat and my eyelids snapped open. “I think it’s your turn, don’t you?”

“But I’m here to please you–”

“Seeing my lovers crying out for me pleases me to no end,” he countered, and I grasped his shoulders as one of his hands slipped between my thighs. Given how wet I was, Rekar’s long, thick fingers stretched me open with little resistance. Lost in his eyes, I moaned as he curled his fingers within me. My hips rolled almost of their own volition as I caught the Commander’s lips in a desperate kiss.

“Please,” I breathed when we parted for air, but he just let out a quiet laugh as he sped up.

“That’s it. You’ve needed this, haven’t you? Go on. You’ve been a good girl. Cum for me,” he crooned biting his way down my neck. His teeth grazed one of my nipples over my bikini top, and just like that, I fell apart. Undeterred, Rekar fingered me through my high, not letting up until I was on the brink of painful overstimulation.

Had that been me shouting? I couldn’t tell through the blissful daze that had washed over me from my orgasm. Blinking slowly as the Commander removed his digits from between my legs, I realized I’d melted as easily against him as I would have with any Human lover.

That raised several implications that I wasn’t quite ready to face. Not yet...not while my lover’s large hands were holding me close and caressing my back so affectionately. Was I tingling because of him? Or because of the intensity of the orgasm I’d just had? The answers all felt so fuzzy in the wake of what we’d just done.

The ship jolted sharply, and Rekar gripped me a little tighter so I wouldn’t topple over. Having disabled all audio alert notifications in the holodeck, I had no way of knowing what the hell was happening.

“Report...Bridge, report! Sub-commander Nevala, report!” He ordered, but there was no answer. I could only hope this was the doing of my two new EMH friends. “Something’s gone wrong.”

I’d done my job. I’d distracted Rekar for long enough that the EMHs had caused some sort of havoc. So...why did this feel so hollow? After a few more concerning jolts, I eased myself off of him at his urging, and we both righted our clothing just in time for a comm channel to open to the entire ship.

“By the orders of Starfleet Command, any Romulan officers still aboard this ship will be arrested and taken into custody. We have secured all vital areas. We urge you to surrender peacefully,” a woman declared over the comm system. Ah, then reinforcements had finally arrived. I...was almost disappointed that I’d have to arrest Commander Rekar.

Glancing at him and wondering how hard it would be to take him in while I was wearing a bikini, I almost didn’t notice the rueful little smile that crossed his lips.

“You should be commended for being resourceful enough to survive for this long. You must’ve been in one of the Jeffries tubes that we couldn’t scan properly,” he said taking a slow step into my personal space again. An icy sort of fear washed over me as he smirked and nipped at my lower lip.

“You knew?” My voice came out as barely a breath, but that Romulan hearing of his allowed him to catch every syllable. Nodding his head, he lifted my hands in his.

“Touch telepath,” he murmured simply, and I blinked up at him.

“Then...then why did you act as if you had no idea?”

“Curiosity. I wanted to see how dedicated you were to your plan...and I really had never been with a Human woman before. I wanted to see if the rumors about your kind were true. Besides, this mission was doomed from the start, and to tell you the truth, I’m...tired,” Rekar said grasping my waist again. “Now, I’d suggest you get back into uniform before I surrender. I would rather submit myself to you for arrest than I would one of your colleagues, but if you take me to the brig dressed like that, well...you’ll have a hard time convincing anyone that you weren’t sleeping with the enemy.”

“Why would you care one way or the other?” I asked as I wandered over to the rock I’d hidden my uniform behind. “As you said, I’m your enemy.”

Rekar was silent for a long enough time that I looked over at him. He was watching me change clothes rather pensively.

“Rekar?”

“The Federation might be my enemy, but you, Lieutenant, are not,” he admitted quietly. Taking a small step forward, he looked at me with an unreadable expression. “Would you...? Perhaps if Starfleet will allow it...will you visit me in the prison in which they'll have me confined?”

I threw on my uniform jacket and zipped it before giving him a small smile and a nod of my head.

“If they allow you visits, I promise I’ll come see you,” I murmured, though I had no real reason to do so beyond my own curiosity. As I led him to the holodeck’s exit, Rekar paused and turned to look at me.

“I’ll go quietly, but only on one condition,” he stated with a twinkle in his eyes. Stepping closer to me, he tilted my chin up. “I want one last kiss.”

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani​ @android-boyfriends​ @attention-bajoranworkers​ @bigblissandlove1​ @darkmattervibes​ @emilie786​ @horta-in-charge​ @live-logs-and-proper​ @slutty-slutty-vulcans​ @starrynightgardens​ @toebeans-mcgee​

[innytoes]

If you're still doing the AU mixing: Sugar Daddy AU + Magic AU? 👀

-Okay so Reggie learns when he is sixteen that trying to do his potions homework and fix his amp in the rain at the same time is NOT a good idea because now every time he sneezes he turns into a cat. Also, he flunked his potions assignment.

-The free clinic basically shrugged and said: that's rough buddy here's some nose spray so for any seasonal allergies I guess.

-"At least you're a cute cat," Luke tries to comfort him. Which is true. He's fluffy and orange and he has little tiny white socks.

-There are actually a lot of advantages to being a cat. Besides the whole 'sneezing' part, but he gets better at controlling that as well. Cute girls and guys will give him attention. He can nap just about anywhere. Bobby is immune to his puppy eyes but somehow cannot so no to his Sad Kitty Eyes.

-It's not until they graduate and move in together that he fully optimises his Kitty Cat Experience. Because yeah, four guys crammed into a one bedroom apartment is a great band origin story once they're famous, but Three Guys and a cat who can comfortably curl up on the sofa is a lot easier to handle.

-And then one day, when he 's out Catting, being adorable at cute girls at the park, one of them offers him some of the meat on her sandwich in exchange for petting him (jokes on you, cute girl, he wanted you to pet him!). Still, it's like a lightbulb moment. He's a cute cat. People will give him food if he is adorable enough.

-He starts testing it. Being cute at people holding hotdogs, and fries, and donuts. He gets a bit of 'no kitty donuts are people food', but he's pretty successful all in all. The butcher loves him. The lady with the fish stall in Chinatown does too. The guy at the bodega on the corner tries to give him some meat but the bodega cat squares up with him and Reggie knows he's not going to win that fight. He's seen Bodega Cat send dogs twice her size running.

-Listen, they're barely scraping by between their shitty jobs and gig money, so when Reggie says: it's cool you can have my fourth of the pizza, the guys are suspicious but grateful when he explains.

-"Dude, you're thinking too small," Bobby says, after a while. "You should go to like, a rich neighbourhood and scam people out of salmon and caviar."

"I don't think that's..." Alex starts, but Reggie is already jumping up.

"Bobbers that's brilliant!" he says.

-Yes he gets Luke to brush him before he changes back to human, gets on a bus, and goes to the Fancy Part Of Town.

-He quickly finds that Fancy Restaurants and Cafés and Butcher Shops are mean. Even with his freshly brushed fluffy coat and his saddest cute kitty eyes, they chase him off. One of them even tells him to scram and calls him a street cat. Rude.

-He decides to try rich people houses instead. Surely there must be some kind of rich old lady who would love to pamper a pretty cat like himself? It takes a couple of tries, and a quick escape from a very well-groomed poodle, but he manages to get into a nice yard. He carefully sneaks across the manicured lawn, hoping to peek inside, when a delighted voice comes from his right.

"Well hello there!"

-There is a man lounging by the pool. A very handsome, very attractive, nearly naked man in just some very tight little swim shorts. And he looks happy to see Reggie. That's way better than a little old lady.

-He goes over, just out of reach, twisting his head just so to look cute and curious. This always works with cat people, and of course the handsome man carefully leans over, making beckoning noises, and holds out his hand for Reggie to sniff.

"Aren't you just the prettiest little thing?"

-His hands smell like Good Food, and Reggie goes in for the kill. He nuzzles the guy's fingers, lets himself be pet, and then flops down to expose his fluffy tummy.

Hello, I am indeed adorable, you should give me rich people food, he thinks as hard as he can.

-"Are you hungry, little guy? I think I have some nice smoked salmon in the fridge. Would you like some salmon?"

-JACKPOT.

-He spend the entire afternoon being pampered and petted and cooed over, and most importantly, fed bits of salmon and prosciutto. He falls asleep in a nice warm lap with a perfectly manicured hand petting him, and when he wakes up an hour later, the handsome man is still looking adoringly at him.

When Reggie gets up and stretches, he bumps his head against the guy's elbow in thanks, before setting off. The man waves at him.

-He comes home well-fed and smug, and Bobby just shakes his head and says 'I can't believe that worked' before dibs-ing Reggie's portion of the cheap takeout.

-He starts going over to Hot Rich Guy's house once a week. The man is just always so happy to see him, and always seems to know exactly what he wants, whether that's food or a snuggle or a scritch right at the base of his tail. Also he's really easy on the eyes, and Reggie won't lie, getting to curl up on that chest while they laze in the sun together is a special treat of its own.

-Hot Rich Guy is named Caleb, and it turns out he's a pretty powerful wizard. Like, one that's on Councils and stuff. Reggie has no idea what he actually does, but he loves to sit and watch when Caleb decides it's time to clean the kitchen, watching the dishes wash themselves, and fly through the air. He also likes the little magic toys Caleb makes just for him, mousies that zoom around, paper cranes that flutter until he leaps to catch them. He may not be an actual cat, but it's still fun.

-"You know, I started out as a street magician," Caleb tells him, flicking another magic paper crane for Reggie to grab. Caleb usually switches between talking to him like he's a human, and gushing 'who's a handsome boy' and other cutesy talk. "Sometimes I miss the simplicity of it. I just made people happy."

He sounds sad, so Reggie abandons stalking the crane to nuzzle at Caleb's chin, purring. You make me pretty happy, he thinks. He can feel the man smile against his fur.

-Okay, so maybe he starts going over even more, sometimes even spending the night with what the guys have affectionately started calling 'Reggie's Salmon Daddy'. (Which was unfair. Caleb also gave him crab, and shrimp, and even steak.) But well, Caleb had gotten him his own comfy little pillow to sleep on in his own bedroom, which is way better than the couch.

Though sometimes he still spends the night with the guys, sleeping on top of Bobby's face just to annoy him, or purring on Alex' chest to keep his anxiety from spiraling into thinking terrible things. It's pretty hard to think your friends hate you when one of them is literally on top of you, making the 'I'm so happy' sound.

-Still, Caleb has maybe installed a little magic catflap for him so he can come and go as he pleases. And gotten him one of those waterfall pet bowl things to drink out of. And a comfy cat bed. And a high end scratch post, even though Reggie would never put his claws into the guy's expensive furniture.

And okay, he also has his own little pillow in the bedroom. But he has been known to hop on the bed and snuggle up to Caleb. Listen, the man is really hot and way out of his league, and Reggie knows he'd never have a shot with him as a human. But he lets himself indulge in snuggling against the guy's muscular, sexy chest and dreaming sometimes. Cats are hedonistic little bastards, he tells himself, so he's allowed.

-He's curled up in the perfect patch of sunlight on Caleb's bed one morning when the man comes out of the shower, toweling off his hair and not wearing anything else. Steam billows out of the bathroom door, and the whole thing is so much like the beginning of a hot romance novel scene that Reggie finds himself having very explicit, very human thoughts about what he'd like to do with that naked man.

"Good morning, Kitten," Caleb says, and is it just Reggie, or is his smile bordering on a smirk?

-Yes he maybe makes sure he's there more often when Caleb gets ready in the mornings. Maybe he even swaps to the afternoon shift at his part-time job at the pet store some days of the week.

-So he's pretty happy. He's getting better meals, they have more breathing room because Reggie basically doesn't need to eat at home most of the time anymore, and when he's not with the guys, he gets to hang out with this hot guy who adores him. Well, cat-him.

-Until one morning.

One morning after he slept over, and hopped on to the bed and dramatically snuggled and made himself at home against Caleb's chest, while he chuckled and scratched that perfect spot at Reggie's ears. He fell asleep purring, comfortable and warm.

He also woke up comfortable and warm. There was a hand draped over his waist, and a nose pressed into his hair. Reggie sighed happily, snuggling back into the embrace, wrapping his own hand around the arm.

Wait.

Wait, hands! He wasn't supposed to have hands right now.

Behind him, a rumble. "Good morning, Kitten."

Oh no. Oh noooo. "I can explain."

"Oh can you now?" Caleb asks, sounding amused. He props himself up on one arm, looking down at Reggie, and man, he's just as handsome with human vision.

He runs through several semi-convincing lies, but Caleb just quirks an eyebrow at him. "Before you open your mouth, please do consider that I can literally hear your thoughts."

"You can?" Oh no, oh no, he was going to be turned back into a cat but like, forever. Or worse.

"I'm not going to harm you, Kitten," Caleb says. "But yes. They're quite loud. You really project them when you're a cat."

Oh.

Oh no.

"Even the ones I had when you got out of the shower?"

The smirk is back. "Especially those. They were really quite vivid."

-Turns out having a Salmon Daddy isn't so bad as a human either. Their first date? Sushi, of course.

[weaselle]

dude

so now that i work outside with dogs i seem to have a tick-sense.

the first time i noticed it i was driving home. And you know how sometimes you’ll have a hair somewhere between your clothes and your skin that’ll tickle, or some thread from some seam or something?

I kept feeling that near the top of my sock under my pants. And i’d brush at it absentmindedly and it would stop bothering me and i didn’t think anything of it.

But. I did keep randomly remembering all the times i’ve come into contact with ticks, removing them from dogs etc. Spacing out on my drive home and my thoughts kept getting hijacked by all my memories of ticks.

And right when i noticed hey, weird, i been thinking about ticks this whole drive home... i felt the tickle again. And I Knew. 

Sure enough there was a tick crawling around trying to find a way down into my sock

Since then, i’ve had similar experiences. Like of course I still feel the hair/thread thing and sometimes there’s actually a spider or a gnat or something... but every once in a while, i’ll feel the tickle a couple times without really noticing and then i’ll suddenly get interrupted by Knowledge of Tick. Not all ticks will feed from humans, but if any were going to, I got to them before they could. And once I sense there’s a tick on me, I’ve never been wrong.

ANYWAY

Just now, scrolling tumblr here, i felt the brush of some thread or whatever a couple times, scratching at it a bit, then Suddenly Knew of Tick. So i pinched the spot with one hand, undid my belt and buttons with the other removed my pants, flipped them inside out around the pinched part opened my pinch and of course there was a tick, so i flushed it

As i did so, i realized the whole thing about how the tick sense hadn’t been wrong yet. Even that ant on the back of my neck last week hadn’t set it off in error. And then i was like, okay, but now that you’ve noticed that, you’ll get up in your head about it and wind up going tick hunting after some piece of lint down your pant leg or something.

Walking pants-less back into my room i thought about how for a little while after finding a tick or a spider or something on you, you tend second guess every itch and tickle and get the phantom crawlies (just me? surely not) Anyway, i wanted to alleviate that as much as possible, so i checked over my legs carefully, grabbed a pair of sweat pants that never leave the house and changed out of the shirt I wore outside today.

so i wasn’t wearing anything i’d been outside in. And yet, like 20 minutes later... Suddenly Tick Sense. On my leg almost the same spot as before. 

And i’m like, no way, there’s no way, this is it, this is where the phantom crawlies get me, or i’m going to find a piece of lint or something, and break my streak. But it’s going off like crazy, the Tick Sense, so i pinch off the spot and flip my sweatpants inside out, and y’all,

ANOTHER TICK.

And as far as super powers go, knowing the difference between a tick touching me versus literally anything touching me isn’t, like, it’s not going to get me on the Avengers or anything... but i’ll take it. 

OH and Watson wouldn’t have to wake up Sherlock to figure out the second tick must have crawled off my dog who was napping at my feet after being out walking with me all day.

He has a luscious double coat that’s thick even for a husky (whose insulation is so good they can sleep on top of snow without their body heat melting any) and i’ve found ticks on him hours after a walk, still struggling to find a way past his super thick fur with its tangle-crimp undercoat. So it’s no surprise if one on him picks me for an easier target if he’s leaning on me

don’t you worry, i took a comb to him. They do find a way through his fur sometimes, and even though i give him a good rubdown and check between is toes and in his ears and armpits and things, after the second tick i gave him a good going over just to be sure

here, have a picture of my dog, Badger

[ofskysanddragonsandstars]

Just a little side project

because the RotTMNT movie ensnared me, and there are so many wonderful fics about F!Turtles coming to the past, I had to give it a shot but with my own twist. So, here is the star of the story, Casey Jones’ not-so, maybe a little bit, terrible day. Title: It’s Like Cancer, My Dear (It’s a Slow Death)

Hopefully I’ll finish the first chapter soon, but for now, enjoy this little WIP. I don’t foresee this being a long fic (says every writer), but who knows. Enjoy!

Some regular Tuesday morning. 

A persistent beeping noises reaches the teenager's ears, jerking him awake. With a groan, Casey reaches over to turn off his alarm on his phone. Sure, his time in the rebellion caused him to wake up at odd hours, but after over a year, sleep habits die hard. Slowly, he stretches out, waking fully. He has school in an hour. Rolling out of bed, picking out clean clothes, and brushing his teeth, Casey padded into the kitchen to find Splinter and Mikey. 

"Good morning, Casey!" Mikey quips happily. "I just cut up some fruit!" 

Casey smiles, "Morning, Mikey. Splinter." It never got old seeing his friends first thing in the morning. 

Splinter simply grunts and raises his tea mug in greeting. It surprised Casey that Splinter was a morning person, and when he asked, Splinter had admitted that after raising four boys, mornings were the least rowdy, allowing for some peace and quiet. However, once Casey started high school, Mikey began to wake up early as well to prepare breakfast. Honestly, it was a sweet gesture. 

Casey grabs a plate to dish up some cantaloupe and strawberries, taking a set next to Mikey. While pancakes are a favorite in the Hamato lair, the novelty of fresh fruit is Casey's favorite. He savors every bite, trying to forget about dreading to go to school.

As usual though, it does not last long. Too soon he is swinging his backpack across his shoulders, checking to make sure he has is mask and extra knife hidden. Too soon he is sitting on a public bus. Too soon he is walking the overcrowded hallways, and too soon is he sitting at his self-proclaimed desk in the back.

“Hey, Casey,” waves the brunet who sits in front of him. What is her name again? Jesse?

Tentatively, Casey waves back with a small, “Hi.” Every day, without fail, she always waves at him. Actually, Casey realizes, she waves at everyone that comes in the classroom. He is secretly jealous of her outward nature. If only it is that easy.

Aside from April, making human friends has proven to be a challenge. It’s not like he has any shared experiences to connect with people. What is he supposed to say? Yeah, I survived the futuristic apocalypse, if you count being thrown back in time as surviving, and live with mutated turtles and an old rat who is the movie star Lou Jitsu, but enough about me, what about you? Casey does not see that conversation going well. It’s easier to avoid it all together. Besides, he has Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie, April, Cass, and Splinter. What more does he need?

Apparently, a normal human life, according to April.

The screech of the bell rings, taking Casey out of his musings. It does not help his headache. Oh yeah, his headache. Pretty sure Professor Donatello would classify it as a migraine with how long it has lasted. Casey does not know when it started, just that he woke up it.

It’s probably nothing, he thought. I’m just dehydrated.

“Alright, class!” drawls his teacher, an old lady with streaks of silver hair and comically thick glasses. If anyone could suck out the joy of learning, it was his teacher. “Listen for roll call.”

Man, does high school suck.

[lesucremygic]

The Moon, PMS-ing and Us

There are times when you’re almost on your period or during it, you’d always feel like trash, a sad excuse of a human being, unworthy of anything good or the world just really tiring. 

You want to cry from the sheer frustration for not being able to stop feeling like that even though you knew, positive things still do exist in your world. 

Even though you understand and realize being grateful is important in times like that.

Actually, letting the emotion happen, is way more important than hating yourself for not being able to stop all of that from happening.

But, you have no idea how to brush off the weight of helplessness everytime those feelings grace your presence, because it’s almost impossible to not feel them sometimes. 

Ever since I got my period, more than a decade ago, I have never been prepared for these huge changes in my emotional state, or even physiological beings. I’m way too underprepared and it made me all over the place. 

I think a lot of us women and girls still feel extremely frustrated whenever we’re at a loss when something is happening to our body and there’s very limited information about what to do when those things happen. 

Most of the time, we almost always find countless baseless misinformation which are actually harmless for us instead. 

That is, foul, to be honest. 

It always makes me wonder, how exactly does the world view us women?  

I didn’t know that my emotional state is going to be so… wildly untamed when I’m PMS-ing. No women in my family told me that I’m going to experience that every month, that I’m going to be irritated with everything, even my own self. 

But overtime, later in life, once I somehow slowly let go of misogynistic views about myself, women and girls in general, re-learning and re-educating myself on my own biological condition and needs, I understand that these things better to be felt. 

Those irritations are, I think, a byproduct of bottling everything up everyday. Thinking that you’ll handle those emotions later because you don’t want to be seen as overly sensitive by people, or that you’re weak for not being able to handle them and not being able to smile every time inconvenience occurs. 

The burden of smiling. 

The burden of always appearing pretty and collected. 

The ridiculousness makes me want to rip my hair out. Everytime. 

Despite all that however, I’m slowly making peace with them even though it’s still difficult for me not to take my anger out on people who irritate me so much when I’m in that period of time. Because even when I tell them I'm sensitive and trying to regulate my emotions, they will mostly take that as a challenge to be so annoying. 

Blaming me in the end for being overly sensitive when I blew up.

I always warn them before they challenge themselves and be stubborn. But alas, they brought it upon themselves. 

Periods are difficult for me. Even with the constant diet change, being more active in windows where I’m supposed to be active and resting when I’m supposed to be resting, period will always make me feel like a total shit. 

Dealing with emotional ups and downs is one thing, dealing with the pain, cramps, and headache that will always follow after is another. 

That’s how sometimes I envy girls who barely feel pain in their body whenever they’re having periods, or that it’s easier for them to navigate through life. 

Good for them, truly, because if I could, I want all girls to have it easier dealing with periods. 

It’s just sometimes, I’m envious that I can never feel light for a long time when periods are coming.

Being girls with a built-in pain inside their body is not easy, it’s too hard to make men understand the great burden we have to endure every single month. It’s too hard to make them understand that we will never get used to it. We will never get used to the pain. So most of our irritations are totally valid to begin with. 

There are those who were raised by their parents right and could empathize with us, I’ll always appreciate those men, even though that’s a total bare minimum… but the ratio of those who understand and can empathize with those who will always think it’s natural for us to be like that and to just suck it all, is way too phenomenal.

Not to mention when they already have a sticky false upbringing about women and menses in Islam, a religion that I believe in,  women and menstruating somehow became a really taboo topic for a discourse in most Islamic communities, which is another horrendous foul thing to ever occur.

So it sucks.

Period is sucks, not having periods also sucks… 

It’s just how we’re built, I understand that. 

What frustrates me the most is when the society gaslighted and guilt-trips me to not feel any of these irritations even though we have to endure a long excruciating 7 days with pain and being stuck in discombobulation. 

I just want them to be more understanding, if they can’t empathize that is…and more discourse about it so a wide range of people, women and men alike, can understand more about healthier approaches and education about menstruation. 

In the hope that in the end, it would make them kinder…

In short, I just want a break. 

L.

---

Dedicated to all women and those who menses, because sometimes, we just want a freaking break.

[worldly-diversity]

Elijah's full of shit, he doesn't need to know him all that well to be able to tell. It's easier sometimes to treat him as human, especially right now. It gets rid of that uncomfortable itch in the back of his head that tells him who's in front of him is fake anyway so why fucking bother? But Elijah's a little different, he supposes…

He hadn't meant to work off his fury and steam at Eden of all places, fucking Elijah of all androids… Yet that's what had happened, and then he'd found himself coming back for more. Elijah was snarky and a little shit, but he was fun too. He doesn't know if personality like that gets programmed it though. Sure, brats are something people can be attracted to, but it seems strange a place like Eden would care about that…

Even just a little bit ago he'd found himself amused at something the other had said. It's why the line's blurred when it comes to Elijah…

At the same time, seeing that shifty and vulnerable expression on his face is calling up some uncomfortable memories of his own, of when he was a kid himself. It's not something he cares to remember, but he knows his experiences are what left him the fucking mess he is today either way.

Kinship's about the last fucking thing he should be feeling for someone, let alone an android, but here he is. He can justify this away as being a means to keep his little visits to Eden a secret, but he's never been that good at bullshitting himself when it comes down to it.

He's reaching for his key ring even before he bothers to rationalise that New Jericho was actually doing pretty well and had shelters and everything set up for any android, not just those who had participated actively in their revolution. Either way, he doesn't like the idea of letting Elijah just disappear into the crowd like that.

Even if the other brushes it off, there's more to this than meets the eye, or else Elijah would never have fucking shown his face at the precinct. So he fiddles the key loose and pushes it into Elijah's palm.

"Here, take this. It's the key to a safe house near here, i'll write you down the address in a second. Go there, you'll be safe and no one'll ask any questions. If they do, just tell them I sent you and they'll shut up real fucking quick if they know what's good for them."

Nosy ass neighbours were a pain sometimes… Either way, he's not gonna tell Elijah he'd just given him the key to Gavin's apartment. No way the other would actually go if he said that, but this way there's a chance the other will be there, and Gavin'll get the chance to try and figure this out some more.

"I'll be by there after my shift today to check on you, alright?" Scribbling the address on his notepad he offers the other the piece of paper as well, trying to ignore the nervous beat of his heart as he hands over the one place he'd so far kept away from work and any other messes he'd gotten himself into over the years. Not even dates ever actually got to his apartment before.

Except Elijah…

[   GAVIN   ]     :

He snorts despite himself when Elijah cracks that joke. It’s stupid and he shouldn’t be amused by it but he is, and the corners of his lips twitch briefly before he gets himself back under control. “The fuck are you looking at?” He snaps at some poor newbie who’s staring at him with wide eyes and has the misfortune of standing a bit too close to where he’s passing by. He’s going to trust Tina to deescalate this for him as best she can manage at the very least. He’s going to get to try and explain this one later, but he should at least have a couple of minutes now before he needs to get back in there or risk Fowler barking his head off. He lets go when he feels Elijah tugging to get loose, but he does walk them over to a corner of the parking lot where they won’t be in direct sight of the precinct before he reaches for his pocket and picks out a cigarette. The day had been going so well too but now here he is, lighting one up… Only once he’s breathed out his first puff does he really bother responding or indeed picking up on much of anything else but the soothing hit of nicotine. “I’d rather just dump you in the trash.” He grouses, but his tone is already much calmer than it was in the precinct. Gavin can get rude and loud and grabby, but he’s not a piece of shit and as much as he likes to crow about getting rid of Androids he’s not about to up and do it. It’s probably only because he looked up when speaking that he caught the cagey look Elijah was giving to the parking lot and it feels like his insides just got doused in ice water when he realises what that response means. “Whoa, shit El— I’m not gonna do anything. Fuck’s sake…” He runs a hand through his hair nervously, making sure to keep em where Elijah can be sure he’s not gonna grab a weapon or something. “Look, I just don’t want anyone to know, alright? That’s it, and from how you were acting I didn’t think I could leave you in there without you telling all and sundry.” However now he’s beginning to doubt Elijah’s reason for showing up in the first place. What…? “You didn’t show up just to mess with me though, did you? What happened?”

his shoulders lift, hunching uneasily as he watches gavin’s whole stance change, slip into something almost apologetic. he tucks his hands into his elbows, arms crossed over his chest, shivers like he’s cold — he’s not, of course, he can’t be, but it’s something to do, a distraction from the way he’s looking at him.

⠀ ⠀❛     i wasn’t worried.     ❜

his voice is tight, and he’s fairly sure they both heard the lie woven through every syllable of it. he sighs, ducks his head — partly to avoid eye contact, and partly to hide the tiny, tentative smile that el brings to his lips. it’s … nice, sort of, the reassurance, which is startling in itself, considering nice isn’t a word he would have thought to use in the same vein as gavin reed until now.

he risks lifting his head again at the question, deliberates for a moment, weighs up whether honesty or flippancy is the way to go — and, eventually, caves. he came here to talk to a cop, and gavin’s a cop. a cop he knows, more or less. besides, this is the closest to receptive he’s gotten him so far.

⠀ ⠀❛     well, here’s the thing. all us ‘droids rise up, viva la revolución, yada yada. i mean, not me, ‘cause i was on a sex club display shelf, but not the point. you well - meaning arbiters of law come along and bust the place, set us poor little dolls free, ‘cept now i have nowhere to go. probably a shock, but political rebellion isn’t really my specialty, so jericho’s out, wherever they are now, and surprise, plucking me out of eden didn’t magic me up a house.     ❜

⠀ ⠀❛     less of a problem than it sounds, really, considering i don’t need to sleep. i’ve been finding places. or streets. but a guy needs to fuckin’ recharge once in a while without wondering if he’s gonna get jumped by a pack of rabid humans while he’s down for the count, so —     ❜

he shrugs, wiggles his fingers in the direction of the precinct they’d just left behind.

⠀ ⠀❛     i was hoping this place would have some ideas. y’know, since technically you’re the reason i’m in this mess.     ❜

he doesn’t mean that, not really, but all this vulnerability and asking - for - help stuff is making him itch.

⠀ ⠀❛     or not. no pressure. point me somewhere they don’t ask questions and i’ll make it work.     ❜

[starlightsearches]

soooo how would you feel about possibly writing about Robin and Steve tag teaming us? 👀 Robin said she and Steve should “combine” because they would essentially make one function human being together and idk about you but I would love to suck his d while she eats my p.

Her Best Friend's Girl

“don’t cover you’re face, i want to see you”

AN: Hoooooooooooooly fuck friend, I know this has taken me so long, but I still remember when I got this one because I fucking choked so hard during my zoom class that I had to turn off my camera. Anyways, I adjusted the prompt a little bit because I'm a selfish little bitch but I hope you still like it.

Robin Buckley x Femme! Reader x Steve Harrington

Warnings: Drug use and underage drinking, Steve's girlfriend! reader, Robin experiences homophobia, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), a wee bit of a daddy kink, reader's got some pillow princess vibes, it’s so long (for me at least, it’s like 6K). I started writing this in between volume 1 and volume 2 so it kind of takes place in an imaginary world where volume 2 had a good ending.

Robin's never felt like this before.

Besides a few sips of somebody's parents' wine at a band sleepover (and whatever the Russian's injected her with), Robin's stayed straight-laced and sober her entire high school career. But after the past few weeks, she couldn't argue with Steve when he told her they both deserved a fucking break.

The view from Steve's car is hazy, the lazy afternoon sun filtering through the smoke from his lips as he passes her the joint between two fingers. There's a Bowie song playing quietly through the speakers, but in her current state, Robin can't pick out the lyrics from the melody.

Her lungs have relaxed enough that she doesn't cough on the exhale anymore, letting the golden-warm smoke inside and breathing it out with a giggle.

"I just don't, like, get it though," she says, turning toward her best friend with a sigh, "like how do you even know what to do."

In the back of her mind, there's a little alarm going off, quietly reminding her that normally sex was an off-limits topic with Steve, although that feels like a silly barrier now. As much as she hated to admit it, Steve had the kind of experience she was severely lacking.

"It's like," he says, twisting in his seat—swaying a little— "it's like, it's different with every girl, you know? Like, with my girl—"

Robin groans, rolling her head back against the upholstery. Steve had only been dating you for a couple of weeks, but it was definitely his new favorite topic. Well, my girl and I went to see that new David Bowie movie . . . My girl was telling me about this thing she was reading . . . you know, my girl would love that.

And it's not like Robin doesn't like you. She likes you a lot—actually—and she likes seeing how happy Steve is when you're around. She can't even find it in herself to make gagging noises when you guys are cuddled together on the couch, or let out a snide comment any of the times she's relegated to the back seat so Steve can drive with his hand on your thigh.

Robin just wishes she didn't have to hear about you all the time.

"As I was saying," Steve continues, shooting her a tempered glare for the interruption, "with my girl, she likes it when I—"

He does a complicated movement with the hand not holding the joint, and then shakes his fingers, like they're not listening. "No, it's more like—"

Robin watches the wiggling of his fingers, grimacing. Maybe she's gayer than she thought, but it doesn't look like it would feel very good at all.

Steve frowns at his own hand, and then brushes the confusion away with a puff of smoke. "It's too hard to describe. It'd be easier if I just showed you."

"Ewwww. Steve!"

Robin slaps him hard enough that he almost drops the joint, but even her disgust is tempered by the high—punctuated by a deep, throaty laugh.

"Gross, no. Not like that—" Steve's laughing too, falling over until his hair brushes her shoulder. "No, god no. I meant, you know, on my girl."

He shrugs, like it's totally not a big deal. Like he hadn't suggested something insane.

Sweat collects underneath her palms, pressed tight against her jeans, and she rubs her hands rhythmically back and forth over the rough denim, letting the texture soothe her.

"Wait . . . seriously?"

And, okay. Robin thought you were hot. A total babe, really, but not in the obvious way, nothing flashy—no hey, look at me features. It was understated, the kind of beauty you really had to look at and know to appreciate.

Robin had been looking at her best friend's girl more than she should have.

"I mean, yeah." Steve drums his hands on the steering wheel, and Robin wonders if he's even totally here right now, or if this conversation will fade in a few hours along with the smoke, "I'd have to ask her first, obviously, but after I told her about you—"

"Hold on,"—a sinking fear forms a pit in her stomach, swallowing some of the buzz—"told her what about me?"

Steve's eyes go wide, and he puts on a dismissive tone that Robin can see through immediately. "You know, that you like . . . girls."

"Steve!" Robin shouts, and she hits him again, but harder this time, "You cannot just out me to every girl you talk to."

He just rubs at his arm, big eyes looking hurt. "Hey, she's not just some girl! And, for the record, I was just telling her that there was no reason for her to worry about us—you know, 'platonic with a capital P' or whatever—and I may have let it slip that you, you know, were definitely uninterested in, uh, boys."

"Steve." Robin threads her fingers through her roots and tugs, but not even the sting can pull her out of this spiral.

"Listen! I just didn't want her to get jealous, you know, since we spend so much time together. Or think she couldn't trust me."

That piques her interest. "Was she jealous?"

"No, but I was trying to be proactive," —he stubs out the joint, dropping it in the cup holder to save for later, a harsh hand combing through his hair— "anyway, the point of all that is after I told her she told me that she actually likes girls, too."

Holy shit.

"Wait, what?" Robin's a mess of emotions, but two are at the forefront: an uneasy jealousy—because of course Steve would find the only other queer girl in the whole fucking state before she did—and a deep and abiding want in the pit of her stomach.

"Yup," —he pops the p at the end— "and she told me that she thinks you're pretty cute."

"Oh."

Pretty cute. Steve's watching her too closely, and Robin's skin feels sheer and sparkling, like he can see inside her head, can see how much she likes the idea, and how bad she wants to hear you say it yourself.

Her hands on your waist, tasting the cherry lip gloss you always wear, hearing you sigh those words again again again.

Pretty. Cute.

Robin interlaces her shaking fingers, stroking one thumb over the edge of the other, fizzing nerves around her heart. "I mean, do you think it would be . . . okay?"

"I'd have to ask her, like I said, but if she's down . . ."

He's staring at her, but Robin can't meet his gaze just yet, watching the rhythmic waves of Lover's Lake catch the light.

Steve sighs, putting a hand on her shoulder. When Robin finally looks at him, she's surprised to find so much warmth and understanding in his deep brown eyes.

"Listen, Munson told me about some party happening on the edge of town tonight—a bunch of freaks will be there, for sure—probably nobody we know. I'll talk to her about it before hand, and," —he gestures, like he's ushering her through an open door— "we'll see what happens."

Tramping through the muggy air, Robin locates the party by sound and—unfortunately—by smell, the soft green scent of the forest disappearing into something heavy and dirtier. Weed and cigarettes, bonfire smoke and beer, body odor and sex.

She looks at Steve as the heavy metal screech reaches them and he just rolls his eyes, taking a few more loping steps forward until the pyre at the middle of the clearing is visible through the trees.

Robin nudges him on the shoulder. "She said she's going to meet us here, right?"

Steve nods, scanning the crowd with his eyes from the edge of the party. Robin does the same, and there are no familiar faces, just like he'd said—a bunch of freaks. She tugs at the end of her t-shirt, craning her neck, but you're nowhere to be seen.

"Have you thought about, you know, what we talked about, uh, any more?" Steve's mumbled question reaches her over the music.

A fist of panic clenches tightly in the center of Robin's stomach, talking about you again now that she's sober. It strikes her that Steve is just nervous, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck while he waits for her reply.

"Yeah, no, definitely,"—Robin's thought about it all day . . . a few different times, "and you're absolutely positive it's okay?"

"She said she wanted to," Steve says, "and I'm good if you're good."

Robin can't help the way her voice squeaks. "Yeah, no, I'm good. I'm definitely good."

"Steve!"

Robin turns to the sound of your voice—even if it's not her name you're calling—and her heart starts to race.

You're dressed casually, which puts her at ease, although she can't understand how you can make a t-shirt and a denim jacket look so undeniably cool, smiling wide as you approach.

Steve is on you as soon as you're within his reach, wrapping you in his arms, wasting no time before pulling you into an almost grossly-affectionate kiss.

Normally this was the point when Robin would look away. It's not that PDA bothered her so much; it was just that—while you didn't seem to care who was around when Steve stuck his tongue down your throat—Robin had always assumed that you probably didn't want an invested audience. And she could never tell how her looking would be interpreted, especially by perceptive little shits like Dustin.

But Dustin isn't here right now, and so Robin watches Steve's cupped hand stroke along your jaw, watches your wet, pink tongue slip into his mouth just before you bite down on his swollen bottom lip.

She hasn't parsed through the feelings that it gives her before you've pulled back.

"Hey, Robin!"

You've got her in your grip, arms around her waist until she's pressed up against all of you, warm skin and tits and perfume that makes her head spin.

You lean back, but only half way, hips still connected—the shape of you tangible through her jeans—smiling wide. "You want a drink?"

Robin doesn't want a drink, but the idea of having something to do with her hands appeals to her. "Uh, yeah, sure."

You glance over you shoulder, catching Steve's eye. "Why don't you go find us something, please?"

Steve just smiles, walking off with a raise of his eyebrows and a two-fingered salute in Robin's direction. You're not even looking at him, stroking your palms over Robin's wrists, intertwining your fingers.

"You're like fucking ice, babe. Let's go stand by the fire."

You weave expertly though the party, leading Robin by the hand. The fire's huge—stacked high with pallets and cardboard boxes and branches like thick, charred arms reaching towards the sky. It warms her skin like the sun never set, just got small and decided to join a party in the middle of nowhere, Indiana.

You're still touching her, leaning in close so you can whisper right up against her ear.

"I hope you don't mind that Steve told me about you."

"No, it's fine," every breath she takes is hot and full of smoke, but that's not why her lungs are burning, "I was totally fine with it, obviously. I mean it's not like it's a big deal or anything—"

The tip of your finger traces up over the back of her arm, across her neck, and anything else she could have or should have said is miles out of orbit. Robin shivers as you secure a few loose hairs behind her ear.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, studying her with fire-lit eyes.

Robin's adrenaline spikes as she glances around, skin crawling, searching for the familiar burn of a disapproving glare. "Here?"

You take her chin in your hand, turning her back to you. "Nobody's looking."

But that's not true. With a glance over your shoulder, Robin can see that people are looking, and—even stranger—none of them seem to care that there are two girls standing this close, staring at each others lips.

"Yeah. Okay."

You've got soft hands and soft eyes and a soft smile, fingers laced at the back of Robin's neck as you pull her in closer, catching the edge of her mouth against your own.

Robin leans in, kissing you back, her lips parting—from shock, and from need—tasting that cherry lip gloss and beer and your hot, soft mouth.

Robin's kissed boys before. Or at least, she's been kissed by boys before, twice exactly—back when she was young and afraid and had no idea how to say no. And it always left her with a sick feeling in her stomach after, tossing and turning as she tried to fall asleep later that night, tears leaking into her pillow because it didn't feel the way she knew it was supposed to, and what if that meant she was broken?

The first time she kissed a girl was different. Cast party after the school play her freshman year—Robin had only been in the ensemble but Nicky Kramer was the leading lady, a little loud and ditzy but the kind of pretty that got her heart racing, and the voice of a goddamn angel.

They'd been playing spin-the-bottle with a little self-awareness, giggling more about how stupid it was to play a game for middle-schoolers than the chaste (or sometimes not-so chaste) kisses between friends. When Robin spun, she'd been so sure she imagined the tip of the prop coke bottle pointing directly at Nicky—a fever dream where she got what she wanted.

"You have to spin again," someone called out, "it landed on a girl."

She knows now that Nicky wanted the attention—wanted to do something that would shock and impress, even if it was at Robin's expense—but she still can't shake the image of her in that big, white wedding dress that somebody's mom donated for the final act, shuffling across the backstage on her knees until they brushed against her own.

The racing of Robin's heart was the final confirmation to what she had already known—she was different. She wanted this. And for five glorious seconds, she had it.

Then Nicky had fallen back with a dramatic squeal, wiping at her lips with both silk-gloved hands, screaming eww while the others laughed and Robin tried to hold back tears.

After that, she'd been certain that she'd never want to kiss someone who wanted to kiss her back.

So maybe she's a little aggressive, taking your face in both her hands, pressing her lips hard enough to yours that it must hurt, but that doesn't matter because it gets you to part your lips, and now Robin can feel your breath in her mouth, taste the air from your lungs. Your slick, silky tongue slides across her own, and her knees shake, threatening to buckle at the feeling. Your lips shine with her spit when you pull away.

"Woah."

Steve is back, staring wide-eyed, the two red solo cups in his hands slipping from his grip, practically forgotten.

"Thanks babe," you peck him on the cheek, taking one of the cups in his hand before it drops and passing it to Robin. "I'm gonna find something to smoke. Be right back."

Robin watches Steve—waiting for him to say something about this being a bad idea—but he just laughs, knocking the plastic edge of his cup against her own.

"Yeah, okay—take it easy there, tiger. The night is still young."

And it goes on like that, hours passing by in emptied cups of beer and joints rolled by Eddie's slim, talented fingers shrinking into ash. You stay sandwiched between Robin and Steve, kisses shared evenly, his mouth buried against your neck while you peck at Robin's lips, your hands at her waist and it feels even better than she thought it might. She can hear your whisper in her bones.

"Wanna get out of here?"

Steve drives. You join Robin in the back seat, straddling her hips, her back pressed hard against the leather seats as she mouths at your neck, occasionally catching flashes of street lights and Steve's eyes in the rear view.

"You're really good at this," you whisper, knees squeezing her hips as Steve pulls the car to a stop.

"Oh, wow. Really?"

You laugh at her disbelieving tone, brushing some hair from her eyes. "Yeah."

Steve helps you from the car. You're steady on your feet, walking up the long driveway to Steve's unlit front porch. Robin feels wired, clenching an unclenching her hands into fists—testing to make sure she's still real while Steve gets the door.

His room is still dark when Robin reaches it, slatted moonlight drawing lines across his bedspread. You're spread out across the top leaning back on your elbows, ankles crossed, posed like a pinup girl in a magazine ad.

"So," you ask, shooting her a wink, "how do you want me?"

Robin's looking for guidance, but Steve's giving her free reign. Leaning up against his dresser, he just watches, hands pressed deep inside his pockets. "It's up to you, dude."

"You could- you could take your top off . . . I mean, if that's okay?"

"Whatever you want," you just smile, patting the bed beside you, "wanna help me?"

Robin sits on the mattress beside you, trying not to think about all the time Steve's undressed you in this same place. Help must mean do it for me, because you're kissing her again, guiding one hand to the hem of your t-shirt.

Robin's fingers are cold, but you don't seem to mind, a little sigh on your lips at the way they brush up against your rib cage, over the band of your bra.

You have to pull away to fit your head through the neck hole, and then Robin's stuck with your still-warm top balled up in her hands and her eyes on your tits.

"Oh. Wow."

You press your arms in tighter against your chest, exaggerating the line of cleavage for her benefit. Robin gasps at the way you start to spill from the lace cups, at the slightest hint of perky nipple she can see past the fabric.

"And—and the bra?"

You reach for the clasp, shimmying one strap forward, and then the other.

"Holy shit."

She's trying not to be a creep, but Robin already knows she's never gonna stop staring at your tits. Not when she knows that they look just as good as she thought they might without all those clothes covering them up, not when she's watching your nipples pebble up in the chill air.

"Right?"

Robin jumps; she hadn't felt Steve climb onto the mattress beside her, watching you with the same admiration. He nods towards your chest. "You can touch her, if you want."

Yeah, she wants. You lean toward her open palm until skin meets skin, her hand chill against the warm weight of your breast, squeezing a little until she can hear your slow breaths grow faster.

Robin's always suspected that Steve had been over-hyping certain aspects of sex, (nothing could be that good) but titties definitely deserved more credit than he'd given them.

Steve is watching, hungry-eyed, slapping his palms against his jeans until he can't resist any longer.

"Try this," he tells her, as he leans forward, fingers pinching at the nipple on your other breast. Robin's about to shove him off before she sees how you react, the tense muscles in your neck and the thick swallow that makes way for a breath so weighted its almost a moan.

"Yeah, okay," she quickly agrees, focusing her attention on the dark bud, mimicking Steve's movements, pinching and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, ghosting the pad of her thumb over the tip.

And the sound you make this time is a moan.

"Use your mouth."

The throaty command comes from you, as you slide your body closer. Robin doesn't need to be told twice, dipping her head down until she can wrap her lips around where she'd just had her fingers.

Your skin is soft on her tongue, pillowing against her lips as she slowly sucks on the swollen bud. You press up against her mouth, fingers curling in her hair. She can feel your heartbeat fluttering against her cheek.

"God, just like that."

Steve pulls his hand back when he sees Robin coming for your other breast, cupping it in her palm before she kisses her way around the center, her fingers tugging at your other nipple, spreading her spit across your skin.

"Fuck, Robin," —she feels like she's dying when you say her name like that— "don't stop."

She won't. Dying with a pair of titties in her mouth seems like the only good way to go.

Steve is moving beside her; a big hand sneaking over your waist, down past the band of your jeans until it's swallowed between your thighs.

"That feel good, baby?"

Steve's voice is deep—raspier than Robin's ever heard it—and she feels the shape of him over her, kissing down along your jaw as you bump your hips up into his hand.

There's the wet sound of your mouth on his, and heavy breaths broken by your hum of agreement. The button of your pants slides from its place with a shining whisper between Steve's clever fingers.

"Let's get these off, yeah?"

Robin pulls back, watching as Steve slips your shorts down your hips, revealing the soft blue cotton you wear underneath, edged with lace and decorated with a sweet little bow.

Steve strokes his thumb across the top of your panties, just beneath the shadowed curve of your stomach, his hand planted at your hip.

His eyes are big and wide and totally fixed on this small point of contact, on the way your hips shift in anticipation against his sheets.

He looks up at you through heavy lashes. "Can I show Robin how to make you feel good?"

You nod, and he slips the fabric down, exposing the patch of curls between your legs. Robin's totally mesmerized, a little gasp on her lips when your thighs part and she can see the shiny, plush stretch of your pussy.

"Why don't you get these wet for me?"

Steve holds out two of his fingers, and you catch them between your lips, bobbing a little to until spit soaks the corners of your mouth. You take them almost all the way to the hilt, only gagging a little when Steve curls them at the back of your throat. There's moonlight caught in the tears at the corners of your eyes.

"Such a good girl."

Robin's not sure if it's those words that make you whine, or the gentle prodding of Steve's fingers, stroking smoothly up and down your lips until they're puffy and slick.

The tip of his middle finger slips just inside your entrance; Robin watches the way you open for him, the way your stomach goes tight, eyes wide with adoration. He pumps his hand slowly, growing wetter and shinier each time he pulls it out, squishy sounds echoing from your cunt when he finally reaches the hilt.

"You wanna start slow," Steve says, narrating his movements for Robin, although both of them can't seem to look away from your slowly leaking pussy, "start with one finger, then work your way up to two."

He takes his own advice, sliding a second finger in past your lips. Your back arches, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. Robin's whole body feels like static, like a TV screen gone fuzzy.

"Tell her how it feels," Steve commands, and you whimper, falling back on your elbows.

"So good, daddy. Don't stop."

Robin's eyes flash, mouth puckered in delighted surprise, and for a second she forgets there's a fucking naked woman in the room, watching Steve's cheeks turn ruddy.

Daddy? She mouths the word, eyebrows raised. Steve ignores her, focusing all his attention on the place where his fingers meet your cunt.

"This is the clit," he says quickly, brushing his thumb over the apex of your pussy.

"I know where the clit is, Steve," Robin snaps, momentarily distracted from the whole daddy thing. Whatever—she'd bring it up later.

"You wanna be gentle here, too, 'cause you can always go harder if they ask, but it ruins the mood if you hurt them."

His other hand snakes over from the place it had been resting on your thigh. "Once you've worked up to it though, pinching at it really drives her wild."

He traps your clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the little bud, and your steady moans are growing louder until Robin can't hear anything else besides her own heartbeat in her ears.

"Gonna cum," you tell Steve, clutching at your own breasts, fingers playing expertly with your nipples, still sticky with Robin's spit.

Robin's frozen in place, hands curled into tight fists and plunged deep into Steve's mattress. Her lungs have gone shallow, and it's impossible to take enough air in, watching you cum around Steve's fingers.

Fuck.

Steve wastes no time slipping his hand from between your thighs, sucking the taste of you from his skin, like it's totally not even a big deal. Like he does this all the time.

He probably does.

He must not notice that Robin's only a few seconds away from combusting, or she's better at hiding than she gives herself credit for.

"You wanna try?" he asks casually, hand stroking up and down your inner thigh while you twitch against the sheets.

Robin's almost too stunned to speak. "Are- are you sure that's okay?"

Steve just shrugs. "Of course. She'll be looser after the first one, so the second will come easier. Or you know," —he grins— "however many she wants."

God, is this the fucking Twilight Zone? Robin's got a little more than a fifty percent success rate making herself cum, and Steve's been out here giving you multiple orgasms a night.

How had it taken him so long to find a girlfriend?

He let's Robin ponder that question, leaning down over you, one big hand poised at your waist as he kisses you sweetly. Your breathing is steady again, chest done heaving, but sweat still shines across your skin and down your stomach—remnants of the way he'd been making you feel.

"Do you want Robin to make you cum?" he whispers, strands of his hair falling into your face from the way he's laying over you, brushing against your forehead as you nod.

You stare at her with the biggest, wettest eyes she’s ever seen, another needy whine on your lips.

As if she could say no to that.

Robin shifts onto the sheets, parting your legs around her waist and situating herself as close as she can stand to your bare pussy. Steve's moved across from her on the other side, your head cradled in his lap.

He brushes a few stray hairs out of your face, pets a gentle hand down your shoulder. The look in his eyes seems to ask Robin if she's ready, and she nods, feeling anything but.

The salty tang of her fingers melts across her tongue; she'd have let you wet them, the same way you'd done for Steve, but she's trying to keep her focus. And that's the kind of distraction she doesn't need right now.

Robin wonders how all of your skin is so soft when she rests a tentative hand on your hip. She wonders if all girls have bodies that would dent this beautifully under her hand, or if that's just one more thing that makes you special.

She strokes lower, brushing the patch of hair between your thighs. If she wants to hear anymore of the noises you make, she'll have to hold her breath.

Her first finger slips between your lips, just brushing the wet opening of your cunt, and she swallows hard, trying and failing to catalogue all of the things she notices: the burn of your skin and the slippery wetness and little fluttering contractions.

"Keep going," Steve urges.

As Robin slips her first finger inside, she has a feeling she must be doing this wrong. There's none of the confidence she'd seen in Steve's movements—all tentative and shaky where he had been self-assured. His fingers are bigger than hers, each of his thrusts smoother and deeper.

But still, you clench around her and there's no denying it, a soft sigh on your lips when she brushes the pad of her pointer finger up against the soft front wall, curling just like Steve had told her to.

Your hips twitch on the bed, skin denting against her hand.

"God, Robin, don't stop."

That spurs her on, tentatively brushing her thumb against your swollen, red clit until you moan. It's not like how Steve had done it—not hard and confident and rough—but she's doing the job and you're reacting to her, desperate for her touch and that makes the confidence in her belly burn.

"Could I," —god, just saying the words have her sweating, and she hopes you won't notice how wet her palm is where she's holding your hip, "can I taste you?"

She'd been thinking about the idea all day. Hand shoved under the waistband of her jeans, she'd thought about burying her face between your thighs, about circling her tongue around your clit until you sobbed and begged her for more.

Robin's shoulders sink without her thinking about, hips shifting until she's at eye-level with your juicy cunt, watching it stain the bedspread a darker blue with each thrust of her fingers.

Her eyes meet yours past the swell of your stomach, past Steve's hands kneading each of your tits, chest rising and falling with the heaving breaths you take.

"Yeah," you nod wide-eyed, licking your lips. Robin's never seen you shy like this, quiet with want as your hands twist into the sheets.

She bends her head down, smelling sweat and skin and leftover traces of campfire, pressing a kiss to the junction between your stomach and your thigh, trailing lower, growing bolder. Your skin squishes perfectly between her lips and the nip of her teeth, her nose buried in the coarse hair of your cunt.

Her tongue just breaches her lips, stealing the salt from your skin before pressing deeper, stroking against your swollen bud. She familiarizes herself with the shape of it, circles it with her tongue. The muscles in her hand grow sore when she tries to keep you still.

"Uh uh, baby," —she hears Steve's voice past the crush of your thighs, and she glances up, watching as he peels your wrists away from your face— "you gotta let me see you. I wanna see how good Robin is making you feel."

Steve pins your hands to the sheets, and Robin goes molten, uncontainable, as you squirm against both her hold and Steve's, absolutely overwhelmed by the pleasure of their attention.

She latches onto your cunt with renewed vigor, sucking deeply at your clit, pumping her fingers in and out of you until you've soaked her hand and you can't stay still when she’s touching you, just like she'd hoped.

"Tell Robin how good she's doing, baby, " Steve's low voice commands, and Robin's in flames at your high, keening praise.

"So good, fuck, Robin. Gonna make me cum- gonna cum."

She can feel it. Feels you trembling around her, the tight anticipation in every facet of your skin, and her own hips rut against the sheets because making you feel good makes her feel good.

You cum on her fingers with a gush and a throaty moan, curling around her until her head is cradled in your lap.

Her breathing is almost as shaky as yours.

"Was- was that good?" she asks. There's laughter on your lips when you pull her in for a kiss.

She's vaguely aware that Steve's climbed off the bed when the mattress springs up without his weight, feels the brush of the t-shirt he tosses in your direction.

You pull the fabric over your top until it kisses your thighs, and Robin can't help but be fascinated by the domestic intimacy she's seeing—watching Steve brush his teeth with the bathroom door, how you bring him his glasses from the bedside table without being asked.

"Are you gonna stay the night?" you ask before drying your face in a towel.

She shifts, sitting on her hands. "Would that be . . . okay?"

And she's looking at Steve now because sharing his girlfriend might be one thing but sharing his bed could be another.

He just shrugs, grabbing another t-shirt from his closet, and a pair of sweats.

"You should stay," he tells her, tossing the clothes in her direction, "then I don't have to drive you home."

You peek around Steve, a playful smile on your face when you jump beside her on the bed. "If you stay, you can use my tits as a pillow."

And that's all the convincing she needs.

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Request: nii!bokuto fucking y/n dumb at a team reunion party and the whole team ends up joining.

Okay so I made it so the whole team is there but Akaashi and Konoha are the only ones who really get to do anything. The others are enjoying the show.

Warnings: incest, humping/grinding, voyeurism/exhibitionism, watersports/piss play, gangbang, squirting, fire play/lighter use, breeding, dirty talk, cum shots, human urinal, thigh riding, asphyxiation briefly creampie, swallowing urine

Kōtarō-nii + Gangbang [includes Bokuto, Akaashi, Konoha]

It’s just supposed to be a little get together was what you were told. Two hours later, each old teammate of Bokuto was still downstairs, chatting and laughing. Every time Bokuto laughed so joyously, it rubbed you the wrong way. It was like he forgot about you, sitting back and talking to his old teammates. You were supposed to be hidden out of sight, but your needs needed to be met and if that meant walking downstairs to remind your brother you were still waiting for him, that’s what you’d do.

You didn’t expect him and his friends to wave you over.

“[Y/N]! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Visiting your nii-san, eh?” Komi asked, an eyebrow raised. ‘Visiting’ was one way to put it, but you were actually living with Bokuto, guest room still unused as your belongings were in his bedroom.

“Guess you could say that,” Bokuto threw out, then continued. “She’s going to college here, so it’s easier to live with me than pay for on-campus living,”

“Saving money, I see,” Akaashi piped up, taking a drink from his glass. It was just water, which meant they weren’t drinking alcohol. Bokuto had a soda, but everyone else looked like they were drinking tea or water.

“Hey, [Y/N],” Bokuto tapped you on the shoulder, making you turning your head towards him. “Can you get me another drink?”

“Of course, Kōtarō-nii,” taking his empty bottle, you go into the kitchen to see where he keeps the soda. Since he doesn’t want you to have any, they’re usually up high. Standing on your toes, you still can’t reach the sweet drinks. To speed up the time, you hop on the counter only to feel someone’s hands guiding you off.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Bokuto says, caging you to the counter. “I thought I told you to stay upstairs,”

“I was bored, nii-san,” you whine, pressing yourself against him. “You’re ignoring me,”

“I’m entertaining my guests. You need to learn how to be patient,” he whispers, one of his hands rubbing at the spot between your thighs. “You’re dripping. Have you been touching yourself?”

“It’s not the same, plea—”

“If you’re good, I’ll fill you up so many times you’ll be swollen with my seed, how about that?” You nod your head, still pressing yourself against him. “Stop pushing yourself on me or I’m gonna have to punish you,”

With a final warning, Bokuto gets his own drink and removes himself from you, sighing as he sees your pout. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he pats your head. “Just another hour, okay?”

That’s what he said.. an hour ago.

Sitting beside him was almost too much to bear. Knowing he could take you whenever he wanted to and him knowing you’re desperately waiting for him to touch you, it’s all too much. Even as your thoughts swim with the image of him absolutely ravishingly you in front of his friends, your pleading eyes and a pout his way whenever he glances at you, yet all he gives is his arm around your shoulders. As a good big brother should, but this is getting to be too much.

Sarukai is the one who decided to play a game. It was a silly card game you played as kids, but it was fun to pass time. Since you didn’t wanna play, you had to sacrifice your spot to Akaashi, your bottom instead being placed on Bokuto’s thigh. A warning squeeze on your hip was all you got, quickly telling them that you were cold which they all brushed off, going on with the game. He was like a heater, warmth rising from beneath his clothes, but it just made you more hot and bothered. It wasn’t until he started rubbing a hand on your thigh — inner thigh, included, his fingers brushing against your sensitive area — did you really feel impatient.

You hoped nobody would notice as your body started moving, and it seemed like they didn’t. Legs on either side of his thigh, you rubbing yourself against him, trying to get as much friction as you could. Bokuto doesn’t stop you, his hand instead rubbing soothing circles into your hip as you continue to grind against his thigh. Eventually, you end up humping his thigh as the rubbing effect wears off, only to have him lean down to your ear. “You can’t wait, can’t you? Such a needy slut needs to be punished, you know?”

There’s no other warning, you suddenly being pushed in the middle of the game as everyone shoots back in shock, surprised at Bokuto’s actions. “You’ve wanted this for a bit, haven’t you? That’s why you’re even wetter, isn’t it?” He smiles down at you, prying your shorts off. He then addresses the guests of his abode, “you guys get to see how much my beloved sister loves me,”

With your shorts and panties off, you’re staining the wooden table with your dripping juices as Bokuto gets his cock out. His friends seem into it, sitting back on the couches and chairs, eyes glued to the way Bokuto spreads your sopping cunt, clenching around nothing as you wait for him in anticipation. Licking his lips, he sinks into you, without letting you adjust as your legs tense and your toes curl, squeezing him as he pushes himself all the way in.

“Did you already cum?” He asks, seemingly dumbfounded by your sudden orgasm. You don’t answer, simply keeping your head against the table and having your eyes rolled into the back of your head. With no response, he decides to roughly thrust up into you, making you gasp as he pushes in so far, feeling so full as he snaps his hips to yours, your hands grasping at the edges of the table as you moan. Through your blurry vision, you’re able to see his old teammates with their own cocks out, hands around the thick appendages as their eyes are trained on how well you take in their former captain’s cock.

It’s only mere seconds before you’re mewling, back arching as you’re clamping around his cock again, body twisting with the force of your orgasm as you shake. Bokuto removes himself from your cunt, though, making you whine. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna let my friends have a turn with you, though. You seem eager Akaashi, wanna go first?”

“I’d much prefer her mouth than her pussy, Bokuto-san,” he says, moving around to your head. His cock comes into view, to which you eagerly open your mouth to take him in, tongue killing out to lick at the tip.

“I won’t pass up free pussy,” Konoha chuckles, taking Bokuto’s position and pushing into you. “Thought she’d be loose after taking a cock that big, but you’re tight as a virgin!” He laughs, pinching your clit as you squeeze down on him even more, muffled moans coming from your throat which is stuffed with Akaashi’s cock.

“Mhm! I taught her well, didn’t I?” Bokuto hums, guiding one of your hands to his cock. “Don’t forget about me, baby girl,” he says, low as he watches your hand jerk him off. Despite your eyes not being anywhere around his form, your hand works expertly from experience of handjobs. Akaashi seems pleased himself, fingers occasionally tracing your jaw and throat, only to close your nose as he face fucks you. Konoha seems to be enjoying himself, as well, your legs secured around his waist as he thrusts into you, his thumb rubbing at your bundle of nerves that has milky fluid coating his cock with each thrust.

“I’m close, can I do it inside?” He asks, looking at Bokuto, using his own hand to guide yours.

“No. You can cum in her ass, but not her cunt. That’s only for her nii-san, isn’t that right?” He directs the last bit at you, fingers pinching your nipples as your body jerks. Konoha decides to pull out, letting his semen paint your stomach white as he groans, making sure every drop lands on your skin. Akaashi is right behind him, closing your nose as he shoots his own load down your throat, your eyes glazed over as you drink it all.

Konoha takes it upon himself to push back into your cunt, feeling your walls clamp around him once more time. It’s too much and you feel something warm fill your insides, eyes widening as you think he put a load in you. When he pulls out, however, you feel it trickling out as the warm liquid drips from your cunt. “Seems she’ll only take cum, not piss,”

“She’ll take it, won’t you, pretty girl?” Bokuto coos, fingers keeping your mouth open as Akaashi takes his turn, warm liquid filling your mouth as you struggle to not let any spill. Once he’s done, Bokuto closes your mouth and nose to force it down, your eyes squeezed shut as it tastes bitter. “See? Just gotta know which hole to use. It’s okay, I’ll clean her out so you can use her again,” he hums once more, pushing his thick cock into your still leaking pussy. The force of his thrust has you mewling, drool spilling from your lips as your body jostles with each thrust. “There’s a cute little trick her cunt will do if you give her a bit of pain,” he grunts, fishing a lighter out of his pocket. Your eyes widen at the familiar click of the item, brief light before it’s shut off. He hands it to Konoha, who then flicks it on as he brings the fire close to your face, the light dancing ridiculously close to your cheek. Akaashi keeps you fron moving your head, sweat beginning to form as Konoha brings the lighter closer, the flame barely licking your skin as you scream, tongue lolling out as your squirt all over Bokuto’s abdomen, his groan overwhelmed by your cute noises. With another thrust, he’s spilling his own load into you, fill you up exactly how you wanted him to.

Konoha shuts off the lighter, then locks across the mark against your cheek where the flame touched you, pressing a sweet kiss in apology to the hot skin. “Now, what do we say, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for filling me up nii-san. I’ll take anything you give to me, I promise,” you sweetly say, another moan as you feel Bokuto’s piss fill you up as well, his thumb rubbing your clit.

“Don’t worry, baby. Only I’ll be able to breed you, but my friends can have their fun, can’t they? I’ll promise to give you all my attention later, is that okay?” Your response is a nod of the head, the rest of his friends eager to have your holes and your hands around their cocks.