#hold on time to see how many followers i lose

[soleilchanson]

Hi!! Can you do a fic where toji and yn are play fighting/wrestling and toji accendtly tickles us and finds out that we're ticklish?

Then he proceeds to do it alot now. Like when we're cuddling he'll pin our hands an tickle us. If we're reaching something on a shelf he sneak up behind us and tickle our sides/belly. Like toji is just a big tickle monster

You got it, bestie 🫡

Masterlist

You regretted many things in life- wearing skinny jeans on a hot day, getting a bad haircut that took you months to grow out, and not investing in the stock market earlier.

But the one thing you regretted most was letting your boyfriend find out just how ticklish you were.

It all happened on a regular Saturday afternoon. You were testing Toji’s patience so he decided to battle it out with a wrestling match.

So there were you were, rolling around in your bed with your boyfriend. Every time you managed to get on top of him, he’d tackle you back down and try to hold you down with the weight of his body. You’d slip to the side, get on his back and the cycle would continue.

The fight was in your favor until he had managed to trap you between his legs with his left arm wrapped around both of yours. You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was difficult because he had you right underneath him. His right hand then caught on to your waist to prevent you from moving any further.

“Okay, you win. I lose. I’ll do the dishes after dinner.” You breathed out. Toji laughed and you could feel his chest rumbling because of it. “Told you this fight was pointless. You can try all you want, babe, but you can never win.” He said as he strokes your sides.

You yelped as a response and wiggled even more. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Toji, it’s just…”

“Just what? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m just very ticklish.” You murmured.

It took Toji a minute to realize that even the slightest touch on your sides had you jumping. You were lucky enough to not see the expression on his face because you would’ve been terrified.

“Alright, babe.” He said slyly after letting you go. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

You were a bit suspicious as to why he was suddenly so compliant but you brushed it off. You were finally out of his hold and could breath easily again.

The following days were pure torture.

Whenever you’d stretch your arms, Toji would poke your waist and have you double over to protect yourself. Sometimes, you'd be walking with his arm around you and he'd randomly poke you so you'd end up pushing yourself into his side. It got to the point where you’d have to look around to make sure he was far away enough from you.

The worst was when he’d be massaging your neck. Your guard would be down, you’d be all relaxed and then all of a sudden, his arm would wrap around you to prevent you from escaping and begin tickling your armpits.

It was just another morning. You looked around to ensure Toji wasn’t around before reaching up to the kitchen shelf to grab your mug. Usually, you could tell which mug you were grabbing onto based on the handle. But this time, you were surprised to find out that it wasn't there. It didn't help that you couldn't see into the shelf.

You were sure that you washed your mug the night before. You decided to continue looking for it, hoping that it was just at the back. You put your knees on the counter to reach deeper into the shelf.

Until you felt two hands attack your sides.

You yelped as you fell back into your boyfriend's chest. He secured you by wrapping his arm around your body and situating it right beneath your chest. His other hand began to tickle you.

"You monster!" You cried out, trying to get out of his grip as he carried you to your couch. "You hid my cup, didn't you?" He simply laughed as he threw you down on the couch and straddled you.

"Maybe." He leaned down and lifted your shirt up. You knew what was coming and had accepted defeat. You knew that fighting him was pointless no matter how hard you tried. The man was built like a bear, and your lack of muscles was a serious shortcoming.

Toji noticed your tired face and leaned down. His nose touching yours. "Give up already?" He asked while smirking.

"Yeah, no point fighting someone who always gets what he wants." You tried your best to appeal to his humanity. Maybe he would give up and let you go or even return your cup.

But instead, he muttered a small "good" and tickled your exposed mid-riff. "Toji, stop!" You laughed out, trying to control your spasming muscles. He started laughing along with you. He was enjoying the sight in front of him.

He removed his hands and blew raspberries on your tummy. "Oh my gosh," you cover your face with your hands as you giggle. He soon began kissing your abdomen, poking you on the sides whenever you'd let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't get too comfortable, hon." He mumbled against the waistband of your shorts, his eyes smiling up at you.

"I won't. I live with you, after all." He came up to face you and swapped your positions, with him lying on the couch and you lying on top of him. You were glad he was finally done. "Y'know, I think I've found my new favorite pastime." His arms wrapped around you.

"Toji, darling, please take up something more productive."

"Nah, I find this to be more fulfilling." He said as he kissed the top of your head.

[melanodis]

this is like the only remotely suggestive willry I'll ever post on main

"why are you undressing ME if YOU'RE cold?"

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[naughtyjjk]

testing nanami kento’s self-control

characters: nanami x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, riding, cock tease, edging, orgasm denial, begging, creampie notes: it's just so hot to see a man who's always composed start to break down hehe

whenever nanami comes home, his suit and tie are always in pristine condition, even after a long day of work. there’s never a strand of hair out of place or a speck of dust to be found anywhere. that’s just how he is—precise and focused and meticulous, almost to a fault.

even when you’re undressing him, kissing him, bringing your bodies together, he still manages to be so put together that it’s honestly a little frustrating. it makes you want to tease him to the point of torture and go slow enough that he falls apart. so slow that he begs.

you want to see him lose control. you want to ruin him.

pushing nanami down on the bed, you climb on top of him and grab the lube, slicking his cock with a few strokes. he’s already so hard, flushed red and throbbing in your grasp, desperate for more. when he bucks his hips to try and fuck himself in your fist, you let go completely and tsk at him.

“don’t move,” you say, coaxing him. “let me take care of you today.”

sighing, nanami lies back down, hips going still. you shift yourself so that your pussy is lined up with his cock, using a hand to brush the tip against your folds, never going further than that. this goes on for agonizingly long as you tease the both of you, feeling his hard cockhead poking at your entrance.

you push down a little, applying the slightest of pressure, and hold it there until you hear nanami groan, his cock twitching with arousal. he’s looking at you with lidded eyes, expression dark and hungry. “darling…”

but you only grin and move again, this time almost allowing his cock to slip inside you. almost. so close, but not quite there. you drag the head past your entrance, dipping barely inside, before you lift your hips again. nanami’s breath hitches, chest heaving. he swallows thickly, arms tense by his side, fighting against his instincts to keep himself still.

“ah—f-fuck—”

leaning forward to kiss him, you catch his bottom lip and flick your tongue over it. meanwhile, you spread your legs a bit wider and finally, finally sink down so that the very tip nudges inside you. only the tip. nanami is moaning your name in broken pieces, mixed in with a few curses and whimpers.

then you stop. again.

nanami groans in frustration and his hips jerk up involuntarily, but you were expecting it. you move with him, keeping just the tip of his cock in you, maintaining the position and refusing to let him go any deeper.

“wh-what did i do to deserve this teasing?” nanami asks, looking like he’s about to lose it.

you lick your lips and reply honestly, “you’re always so composed, kento. i want to make you desperate for it, see you completely wrecked for me.”

for a few more seconds, you stay in the same position, unmoving. the stretch of his cock is nice; he’s hardly even really inside you yet, but your pussy is already adjusting to his size, opening up for him. it’s so tempting to take all of him like you’ve done many times in the past, to ride him and bring him straight to the edge. but no. not yet. you have a plan to follow through.

lowering your hips just the slightest, you sink down further, taking more of his cockhead until the crown is almost fully inside. you can feel him throbbing against your walls, wanting more but never getting it.

nanami lets out a broken moan, breath stuttering. “you’re being cruel. how long are you going to make me wait?”

“that,” you say, “depends on how long you can hold out.”

as if to punish him, you raise your hips again, smiling wickedly as you pull away until all of him is resting outside your entrance again. it’s hard for you, too; you miss the feeling of having him inside. but you remind yourself that you’re going slow, as slow as you possibly can. slow so that you can watch nanami break.

nanami groans, low and needy. his hands clench and unclench the bedsheets by his sides. “fuck.”

without warning, you drop down again suddenly, less than an inch just so that you have the tip of his cock in you again. nanami gasps, throwing his head back against the pillow. you take in all the sensations: the messy feeling of lube and precum, the way nanami’s hard cock twitches with desire. how he’s struggling and using every ounce of his willpower to not buck up and thrust into you.

“good boy,” you lean in to whisper right by nanami’s ear, watching with delight as he shudders in response. he’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tensed up.

you keep him there inside you for what seems like forever. every tiny shift of movement is agonizing and extra sensitive, sending waves of pleasure from where you two connect to the rest of your body. you can tell that nanami also feels it, by the way he’s losing control more and more with each passing second.

and that’s exactly what you want. it’s working. you’re going to break him down piece by piece until he’s nothing but a shaking, writhing, horny mess beneath you.

it’s such a fucking turn on to see nanami’s self-control slipping, breaths growing ragged, waiting in anticipation for whatever you’re willing to give him next. it’s getting hard for you to hold back as well. you let just a tiny bit more of nanami’s cock into your pussy so that all of the head is nestled inside and then you start the shallowest, most torturously slow rhythm you’ve ever done in your life. hardly moving at all, the most miniscule rolls of your hips to take only the tip of his cock over and over again.

up… and down…

up… and down…

“o-oh god,” nanami curses, and he can’t help rocking his hips to follow your rhythm, matching your pace. he knows better now than to try for anything more, knows that you could take it all away from him at any moment.

each time his cock nudges its way back inside you, your pussy clenches around him. tight, like it doesn’t want to let him go. and nanami moans, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, wishing that he could feel your warmth along the rest of his neglected shaft, too.

he looks delirious now, so fucking aroused with his mouth parted and his eyes hazy and unfocused. his cock throbs and pulses inside you, making him dizzy with pleasure. the shallow thrusts are getting to him, slowly but surely, the sensation building up in tingling layers, bringing him closer to the edge.

honestly, you’re teasing yourself as just much as you’re teasing nanami. with only short strokes of his cock that barely manage to penetrate you, you feel empty, craving for him to hit your deepest parts. on one hand, it’s so fucking hot to drag it out like this, so arousing to see nanami at your mercy. on the other hand, you’re reaching your limit, too.

“beg,” you say. “tell me how badly you need it. let me hear you beg, kento.”

there seems to be an internal battle going on within nanami as he grits his teeth, trying to resist. but it’s futile; you simply keep moving your hips in that slow, steady rhythm until it becomes unbearable and nanami gives in embarrassingly fast, mind clouded with lust.

“hah—p-please, i can’t—fuck, please—”

“mm,” you consider his words. “please what?”

nanami chokes out a moan. “i wanna fuck you—ah, please, your pussy—” he looks at his aching cock, the precum spilling down the sides, the way his cockhead disappears into you. “let me come—i-i need—” then he gasps, “oh shit—”

it’s beyond arousing to hear him like this. in that moment, you don’t let him finish his sentence as something snaps within you and you give in to your own desires. your hips slam down on him without warning, burying all of his cock inside you in a single, rapid movement.

an intense wave of pleasure rushes through both of you, every nerve ending igniting at once. you moan, overwhelmed. you’re filled so deep and so fast that it takes a second for you to return to your senses. and nanami—fuck, the sound he makes, low and guttural, a stuttering, broken moan that should be illegal. his abdomen clenches, thighs shaking. it’s only one full thrust, but you can tell that he almost came right then and there.

“fuck.” his voice sounds destroyed, fucked out. chest heaving, he wants so badly to buck his hips into you until he’s spilling his release into you. it won’t take much more to get him there. but he very carefully doesn’t move, still following your orders, still being good.

“k-kento,” you whine, staying there, the sensation of his cock pulsing and splitting you open driving you dangerously close to orgasm as well. you don’t dare to move until the pleasure simmers down into something more manageable, until you’re sure that you’ve fallen away from the edge.

that’s when you draw your hips up again. still going slow, so fucking slow that it almost breaks you—but it breaks nanami too, and that’s what you’re aiming for.

by this point, nanami’s composure has completely crumbled. he’s resigned himself to the torture as you restart the aching, brutally slow thrusts. the tip of his cock dips into you, as far as the crown of his cockhead, and then pulls out almost all the way. again and again and again.

you’re dripping wet, the teasing against your pussy reaching an unbearable degree. there’s nothing you want more than to take nanami fast and deep, to feel him hitting your most sensitive spots instead of just playing with the entrance. but you almost have nanami where you want him and you’re betting on him to give in first.

“please—ah, m-more—” nanami cries out, breathy and horny and frustrated, trembling from the effort of holding himself back.

you keep the same pace, not giving him what he wants. keeping him just on the edge of satisfaction, waiting him out. and it’s infinitely worse now that you’ve both had a taste of what you could be getting instead.

your hips move up. then down.

then up again.

the crown of his cockhead catches and releases from your pussy, delicious friction causing your head to spin. nanami’s neck is arched, looking at you with narrow eyes, aroused beyond his limits.

“f-fuck, fuck,” he rambles nonsensically, body so tense. “please—let me—i’m—i need—let me inside you—i c-can’t take it anymore—”

“just a little longer,” you tell him, and nanami groans. “you can hold out for a few more minutes, can’t you? be a good boy for me.”

those words make a desperate, wrecked sound escape from his lips and his self-control is slipping, slipping, slipping. he’s turning wild under you now, squirming, writhing, frenzied and starved for his release. your own willpower is dissolving at the sight of nanami’s desperation.

your hips descend on his cock again, clenching tight around the tip. nanami sucks in a sharp breath.

up, agonizingly slow, leaving him throbbing at the loss of contact. this time, you let out a moan, feeling so empty. god, it’s not enough for you either, not nearly fucking enough.

“need you—n-need to feel you,” nanami pleads, whimpering, chanting your name over and over. “please, please, i’m close—fuck, i’m so—”

he’s panting, cock twitching madly, and this —this is exactly what you had been waiting for the whole time: nanami completely ruined, nanami undone by your actions, nanami looking at you with pure hunger and lust, overtaken by arousal. he seems to be right on the edge of pleasure, so close to tipping over, body burning with an orgasm held at bay. you’re sure that when you finally allow him to come, it’ll be ecstasy like he’s never felt before, coming harder than he ever has in his life.

and that’s the end of your limits. you can’t deny either of you any longer.

you slam your hips down all at once, plunging nanami’s hard, aching cock inside you.

“ah—!”

“f-fuuuck—”   

nanami moans, loud and guttural and absolutely wrecked. it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. his cock splits you open, so hard and thick, and you fall forward on his chest as your pussy spasms around him.

the sensation is entirely overwhelming, your mind going blank, pleasure jolting along your nerves tenfold, having built up by the teasing and denial.

“o-oh god,” nanami pants. he bends his knees to drive his cock even deeper inside you, and the change in angle makes you fucking delirious. “good, so good—”

you’re all out of patience. there’s no more waiting, no more drawing this out.

looking at nanami, you say, “kento. take what you need. make yourself come.” you swirl your hips in a circular motion, feeling his cock hitting every corner inside you, and both of you moan at the same time. “fuck me.”

something sparks in nanami’s eyes, washed over by a fresh wave of arousal. before you know it, he’s flipped the two of you over so that you’re now lying on your back and he’s propped up above you. his eyes stare into yours, so intense, and that’s when you know: he’s going to devour you.

with a growl, nanami begins to move, pulling out his cock just enough to shove it back into you. hard and fast and so, so fucking deep. your mouth parts but no sound comes out. you can’t think straight; your pussy feels so full, stretched tight around his aching cock.

“kento—kento—”

but nanami isn’t listening to you anymore. he’s so wound up, so fucking turned on beyond reason, that he can’t hold back anymore. he starts thrusting wildly and unrestrained using short, quick rolls of his hips to drive his cock into you. each inch that enters you burns with pleasure and the room fills with the filthy sounds of your moans, of nanami pounding his cock into you again and again.

“this is payback,” he says, voice low and raspy. it makes you shudder to think about what he has in store for you. “i'm gonna—hah—gonna fuck you until you scream. fill you up with my come. shit, and i won’t stop until you’re coming on my cock like the naughty fucking girl you are.”

nanami’s hips are stuttering but his pace never falters. his next thrust hits that sweet spot inside you, making you arch off the bed and gasp, sparks of pleasure dancing along your spine. and now that nanami has found it, he aims there every time, knowing how sensitive it is, how it brings you that much closer to the edge.

moaning, it’s all you can to do keep up with the brutal thrusts. your stomach coils, orgasm building and building, threatening to take over your body. it feels so fucking good. nanami’s cock is pushing deep inside you, hard and fast, pulsing against your walls, stretching you open. he uses a hand to find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub, and you cry out, hips bucking up to chase the sensation, clenching around his cock on instinct.

“oh—fuck, k-kento, i'm—i'm coming—”

the pleasure crests and your arousal spikes. you know that you won’t be able to endure it for much longer. and nanami is right there with you, thrusts turning erratic and desperate.

“m-me too,” he says, grunting. “come. don’t hold back. come for me, baby.”

one, two more thrusts and you’re moaning his name, body convulsing in waves. nanami fucks you through it, sending aftershocks to your nerves, and then he’s coming too, releasing everything that’s built up inside of him in spurts. he’s loud when he comes, mouth next to your ear; louder than you’ve ever heard him, riled up by all the teasing. his cock twitches inside you and his hips slow, eventually go still.

god, it’s so damn hot that it almost makes you want to fuck him all over again.

for a moment, both of you lie there, catching your breaths. then nanami pulls out slowly, careful not to overstimulate you. he holds you like that and you melt in his arms, all the strength leaving your body.

“next time,” nanami says, sounding defeated, “you’re going to be the one begging for it.”

.

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(comment to be added/removed)

[midwestprincesss]

never say sorry -sub!art donaldson x fem!reader smut

notes- this was literally supposed to be super short but i got carried away cause i am a whore (and proud of it)

cw- art is a little insecure:( , mentions of him having sex with tashi before (NO TASHI SLANDER I LOVE MY GIRL BUT IT'S FOR THE PLOT😭) , he cums prematurely (like...really..) art's a whiny little slut, art keeps calling reader love ( i got a thing for that pet name sorry y'all) , reader calls art 'artie' once cus it's cute&idc.

thinking about art constantly apologizing while having sex :( like ur unzipping his pants and he's already bucking his hips up into your hand, and then immediately muttering "sorry":(( my babyyy

so at first you think that okay, whatever, it's just something that slips out

but then he does it SO many times that you're actually starting to be concerned

like, you're giving him head and he moans a little too loudly- he's apologizing again. while kissing, you pull back for air and he still follows you, mouth half-open, wanting more - but then he realizes and he apologizes again.

but one time he really caught you off guard-

it had been a long day for him, spending almost all day training for his upcoming match. he barely had any time to rest, so he comes back to his dorm, taking off his shirt and pants, getting into bed with you only with his baby-blue boxer briefs on.

he kisses you. he's so fucking tired, but he still kisses you. 'cause he needs you, especially after the day he just had. you could feel his hard cock, practically begging you to take his boxers off.

"please love, wanna see you" he says while tugging at your top, watery eyes glistening with tears waiting to be spilled.

you take it off and unclasp your bra, little whimpers leaving his lips at the sight of you over him, with your tits out. you would love to take your time with him, really. to hear him beg and plead for you. but he's so eager, and so polite about it too- you just can't do that to him right now. so when you take off his boxers, his cock immediately jumps up, slapping his lower abdomen, right over his strawberry-blond happy trail.

"aww baby, look at you. you're so pretty aren't you?" you smile down at him, admiring how his legs shake slightly at every word you say. "hmm? aren't you?" you repeat. "mmghn- yeah, i- uhh i am" he says, eyes almost rolling back from the lack of touch. "you're what? say it." he sighs. you do this a lot. 'self love is important' you usually tell him- but not now. not when his dick is out, aching and leaking and begging to be touched. but just for the sake of it- just because he wants to please you, he says it. "i'm pretty"

"good boy," you coo, finally bringing a finger down to his cock, only to circle his pink, wet tip. and with that, he loses it. his mind goes blank, and he can't help it- all the waiting, the anticipating made him lose control of his body. he really didn't want to cum, he wanted to be good for you, but you were just so hot, he couldn't hold back. so immediately after his white, thick and warm liquid lands partially on his stomach and a bit on your hand, he starts babbling out apologies.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry love, please don't be mad, please- i'll clean up after myself- oh my god i'm so sorry-" he was so obviously tired, he could barely make up the words, yet he still continued apologizing. until you cut him off.

"art, baby- you dont need to apologize to me! what's up with this" you ask, softly. "you know i love making you feel good. and it's even better when i get feedback like this" you giggle. his cheeks turn bright pink as he covers his face.

"but i literally came the second you touched me" he mumbles, shyly.

you kiss his shoulder, smiling. "and it was hot."

"i- I don't know how to explain it to you, love- i just don't want to disappoint you. tashi used to hate it when i did any of this, she hated hearing me, and stuff like that- sometimes it made me feel like i was an object to her or something, y-you know? she'd get mad at me, and uh- it wasn't great."

"oh." you could actually feel your heart breaking for the boy. he was so sweet, he never deserved any of that. "well i'm not tashi, and i definitely won't get mad at you for anything like that. i like hearing you, and believe it or not, this was really fucking hot. you're letting me know i'm making you feel good. what's wrong with that?"

"just don't wanna upset you." art shrugs.

"i promise you artie, you could never upset me." you peck his lips and he smiles. "now let's clean you up"

[tinydefector]

Do you think cybertronians ever get a bit freaked out on how tough we are? Yes they can break us like toothpicks but humans seem to be able to take a good beating as well with adrenaline helping. Even our own body and oxygen trys kills us and yet we stick around like roaches. We're fragile in some reasonable and dumb ways and then resilient in the most dumbest ways.

Oh definitely, alot of the bots are very off put by how fragile humans are just in general and tend to avoid them.

But then there's the moments like Ratchet working a late shift and a small knock on the door alerts him someone's there, he turns around expecting it to be Rodimus or Whirl who he's about to scold but instead it's one of the humans and they look worse for wear. After fussing over them for a moment, detailed scans relay fractured ribs, a broken collar bone, and a heap of bruises and yet the humans just like. "Can I have some Panadol, Nurophen, and a glass of water?" Because they don't know what else to do its what they would get. Most of the times they ended up in the hospital. Ratchet is losing his God dawn mind as he rushes around looking for the best painkillers he can find for orgaincs in the smallest dosage he can give, hoping to primus it doesn't shut their heart down. In the end, they end up on a medication that makes them extremely drowsy, almost like the green whistle/ Weed.

Ratchet ends up doing alot of study on the human body and realises just how fucked up little monsters we are. We literally need oxygen to survive but he we have to much pure oxygen it will kill us. Water, we need a certain amount of it, if we don't have enough we will get dehydrated and die, if we have to much we will get water poisoning, intoxication, or a disruption of brain function. This happens when there's too much water in our cells, such as the brain and blood cells, causing them to swell. When the cells in the brain swell, they cause pressure in the brain, resulting in death. The issue is that it can become an addiction to drinking too much water for the effect it has on the body. Same with nearly everything we consume, it can kill us, but we need a lot of it in moderation.

Human: "I just need some basic pain killers and a nap"

Bot: "No, you need full surgery, sedations, and 3 weeks of recovery!"

Human: "nah she'll be fine!"

Bot: "Absolutely Not, bed now before I cuff you"

____________

Following that imagine a first contact AU where Cybertronians and humans are just slowly getting to know how the other works and next thing a human is kneeling over in horrific pain and it send the bots all into panic mode trying to help them, wondering what's happening and thinking they are dying. And the human after about ten minutes some pain killers still looking rather pale and unhealthy just go. "Sorry about that fuck I hate, Cramps/palpitations/ phantom pains/ and such" and the bots are just looking at them horrified like.

Bot: NOT NORMAL!!!"

Human: what you talking about?

Bot: everything that just happened you literally just short circuited!

Human: nah that's causal wait till you see the really funky shit.

______________

Human pet AU

Cybertronian's keeping humans as pets is like humans keeping hamsters. Humans are some of the most homicidal, suicidal and just deranged creatures that Cybertronian's could keep as pets. It's gotten to the point that they are a luxury/ exotic pet because if you do not feed them the right stuff, give them the right amount of light and socialising, and they will just die. There are so many Cybertronian's who take their human into clinics worried as and its just the human being a little bustard because they didn't get the treat they wanted 2 weeks ago and are still holding that grudge. Not to mention, we are prone to causing as much trouble and issue. We are like cats.

But we are also very easily sick and primus forbid a human gets sick because to a bot they think it's a death sentence for their sweet little spitfire of a human who they have had now for ages. And the human looks ready to die, and the next day, they are up and about like nothing ever happened.

Human: if you don't feed me the meals I want I'm going to pretend to die. If you do feed me what I want I might actually die because I shouldn't be eating it.

Panicked bot: "MY HUMAN HAS GOTTEN SICK. HELP!?!"

Human: totally worth it.

_________

In conclusion, the cybertronians are rather wary/ concerned about how resilient humans really are.

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@nothanksjohnny

[brucewaynehater101]

There's a post about wanting a story about Jason's time as Robin. I made a reblog of it so long ago, but I can't stop thinking about it.

I want to watch Jason's flight as Robin, but the entire story he's haunted by the future we all know is going to come.

When he first grabs his tire iron, he has the choice of taking a crowbar instead.

Subtle purples or greens pop up when he's in danger (but not necessarily the Joker).

He frees a bird trapped inside a warehouse.

He rescues a kid who was kidnapped by their mom and returns them to their dad.

So many dead or injured birds

While helping Alfred with gardening, he breaks a nail

Gun magazines at many scenes

Motorcyclists wearing red helmets

Someone's bubbling jacuzzi has a green light on

Duffle bags

He helps hold a bandage to someone's neck until paramedics arrive

Jason reads Frankenstein while at the Manor

An ad proclaims their coffins to be the sturdiest

Just his Robin story being jammed packed with foreshadowing.

It'd also be rad to have Easter Eggs:

Someone makes a comment about assassin kids

When talking to Bruce about something, on the batscreen is a very short file about "One Who is All"

Someone at a gala mentions the Drakes' newest archeology find

Kids at Jason's school chat about meta powers and how cool controlling light is

When visiting the hospital, the nurse introduces herself as Crystal

The buildup of the audience watching Jason, who's unaware of his future, continuously face sign after sign after sign? The irrational hope that maybe someone will notice the universe basically screaming about the future? Nobody notices as more and more signs pop up. It's maddening but so intriguing.

Jason's story of Robin would follow him as he goes from being desperate to survive to thriving. His paranoia that it's too good to be true thrums in his veins, but he learns to ignore it. He's fed, loved, and flies over Gotham every night. There's conflict, sure, but he's figuring out. It's okay.

The signs start out slow and subtle. As he starts to reach towards the end, they get more and more obvious. They occur more often.

Jason doesn't know when it all goes wrong, but he's figured it out before.

We don't see him lose hope until the very end.

EDIT:

Here's the og post I was referencing

[bucks-babe]

Be Mean To Me

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 

Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female

Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut

A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut

You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.

It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.

You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.

“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.

“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.

“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 

“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.

“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.

“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.

“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.

“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 

“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 

“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.

On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.

“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.

He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 

His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”

He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.

“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.

With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.

Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.

He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.

You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 

The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 

This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.

He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 

With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 

Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.

No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.

“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.

“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.

“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.

Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.

He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.

“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 

You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.

The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.

Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.

“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.

“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.

Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 

The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.

“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.

His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 

He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 

After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”

Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.

You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 

“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.

He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.

He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”

You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.

Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 

“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.

“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”

His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 

As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.

Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.

Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”

Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.

Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.

“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.

Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”

Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.

“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.

Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 

Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.

Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.

 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 

You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.

[multific]

Moonlight 

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warnings: childbirth (no detailed description)

Summary: Aemond loves his little wife, so naturally, when you give birth to your first son, Aemond falls in love even deeper. However, when a simple refusal of his breaks your heart, it will be difficult for him to win you back.

It was hard to keep you close. You were much like Aemond, a true fighter. You had a fire in you which couldn't be questioned. A fire towards him, pure love. And now, fire towards your son.

Aeren was only born a week ago, yet you protected him fiercely like a dragon.

And you refused to let the small child out of your hands.

When Aemond was allowed in the room, he saw the blood, he heard your screams and many times, he wanted to barge in but he knew he couldn't.

So, once he was allowed in, someone informed him that it was a boy and that you were in bad shape. 

Aemond could see it, you looked beyond tired, yet you smiled.

But your smile didn't last long.

Aemond refused to hold his son. 

"Give him to me." he heard your voice as he looked from the woman holding his son to you. You looked angry. Way too angry.

It was too late when Aemond realised what he had just done.

He refused to hold his own child.

And since then, you didn't speak a word to him.

You slept in a different room with your baby, sometimes, late at night, he heard the cries. He wanted to get up and go to you but he couldn't, his guilt was overbearing. 

"You should put a leash on her, brother. If I had a wife like that, she wouldn't be sleeping in another room." Aegon taunted his brother daily. 

One day, you were in the gardens, walking with your son in your arms when Aegon spoke up.

Aemond never heard his brother speak with such longing.

"I truly wish she was mine." 

Aemond looked at his brother who was watching you.

"But she's mine." was his simple and firm reply.

But you truly weren't.

You used to be, now, you just sat next to him during dinners. 

One night, you excused yourself, and he followed you.

In an empty corridor, he spoke up.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he knew why. He very well knew why.

"I'm sorry, My Prince." you turned and looked at him. "I believe you are mistaken. I'm not avoiding you, I just hate to see the disappointment on your face." this surprised Aemond. "I gave birth to a child you refused to even look at. I loved you, Prince Aemond, I truly did. But I love my child more. And if you cannot look at him, you won't get to look at me. Fill your bed with whores for all I care. Goodnight." 

"You are mistaken." he said, not letting you leave, but you did grab the handle. "You-You were in that bed, crying, screaming and bleeding for hours. I couldn't do anything. And when they let me in, the blood... so much... they told me you were weak, you survived but you needed a lot of rest. How-How could I hold my child when the love of my life almost died? How could I look at him when I was worried to even look at you? I feared you would die giving birth. I was shaking. I feared losing you and my child. That is why I didn't hold him. I was scared." you stood there, your hand on the door, you looked away from his eyes.

"Then you could have just fucking say so, Aemond! For fucks sake!"

"That is not very lady-like."

"FUCK lady-like, you made me believe you hate me and our son! I believed I disappointed you since you wanted a daughter."

"I said I would be happy either way. My emphasis was on a girl because I feared if you had a daughter, you would see that as disappointing my bloodline."

"You are fucking terrible at communicating." you opened the door and walked into the huge room in which you stayed the last couple of weeks.

Aemond followed you, and watched as you walked over to the small bed and picked up your son. "Next time, you should just tell me. Letting me assume things clearly don't work out." 

"Of course." a small smile found its way onto his lips, next time, it was the promise of a future, a promise of more, something he could work towards. He walked over to you after closing the door. "I wish to hold him." you handed him the small child who didn't even stir in his sleep. "Aeren you named him I recall." Aemond's attention was now fully on his son as you decided to leave the two alone after watching them for a couple of minutes.

You got changed and when you arrived back, Aemond was sitting on the bed, his son on his chest.

"Some nights I heard his cries. It broke my heart but I broke yours far more. I apologise for not being clear and for causing you pain. I am truly sorry."

"I'm sorry as well. I should have asked." you said as you sat down next to him. "I will have to feed him soon."

"I will stay here with you."

You smiled as the moon shined through the window, illuminating the room a little more, helping the fire so you could see your husband's face.

"I love you so much Aemond."

"I love you too, My Queen." you giggled, moving closer to him as he leaned down to kiss you.

You two kissed in the moonlight until your son made it clear that he was hungry.

It all made you look towards a better future.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[heart4caitlin]

THE PERFECT GIRL / paige bueckers

ghostface!paige x fem!reader headcanons!!

cw: blood mention, killing mention, manipulative paige, overstim, lowkey whiney but dom paige, basically no dialogue yay!!

yall met either in elementary or middle school. some random girl was being rude to you and of course paige wanted to stand up for you. and ever since the yall have been best friends

definitely the type to quiet literally go insane once boys or girls start to look at you with interest. she is declining all their offers to you and you're always get upset about it, and she'll always reassure you, "oh come on.. you know i know what's best, y/n."

when you got your first girlfriend, she was livid. always looking at her a certain way, always had something smart to say back to her, anytime you would bring her up she would say something mean about her. she was so much better than your girlfriend so why weren't you dating her?

and when one week your girlfriend just disappeared and you were heartbroken, who was there for you? paige of course. she stayed at your house 24/7 comforting you. would go pick up whatever you wanted and made sure you were alright. while she's holding you in bed she can't help but think back to your girlfriends screams as she tortured her, her crying and begging to be let go because why would y/n's best friend hurt her? anyways

and another week later when her body was found, you were disgusted. who in their right mind would brutally kill someone like that? and paige was there for every moment of it. still holding you while you cried over that worthless girl.

for the rest of high school you never had another girlfriend, too scared of losing that one as well. paige didn't mind at all, maybe just a little bit because she wanted to kill them but....

she was never scared to stand up for you either, especially at parties when guys just would not catch the fucking hint to back off of what's hers. his body was also found two days later, multiple stab wounds covering his body.

when it was time for the both of you to graduate, she followed you to uconn. making sure that both of you could be roommates!! and you were so happy to have your best friend with you there. only problem was her jealous issues got way worse.

since you were an adult now, you were going out more with friends, dressing up in dresses what fit you so well that paige couldn't help but stay home that night and just think of you while touching herself, whining out your name while she cums

goes right back to being normal with you afterwards!! always the one to pick you up while youre drunk out of your mind. making sure you're buckled up in the car, has a cover in the car to cover you up with, if you're hungry she'll always stop somewhere for you

but you start to get real concerned when anyone who asks you out just starts showing up dead? you don't think it's paige at all, you don't catch onto it at first

you go to every single one of her basketball games, being the loudest in the crowd. she's always looking over to you to make sure you're watching her. her favorite is after the game and you run up to her in the court. her wrapping her arms around you, both of you laughing and smiling. she can't help herself but lean down and press her lips to yours, the both of you surprised

after that game she takes you on so many dates, wanting you to see how well she can treat you. she's buying you any and everything you have ever wanted

she hasn't killed anyone in a while, stopped for a couple months once the two of you started dating

that changes once you became friends with a certain group of people. them influencing you to do whatever, one of them being extremely touchy and flirty with you. but you don't pay attention to them, you're head over heels for paige you don't even realize they are flirting with you

andddd they show up dead as well... this murder being the worse one they've seen so far. you don't think anything of it until you you're cleaning yalls dorm/apartment and you find a bag in the room. opening it you see a ghostface mask and knives which are covered in blood

you'd been frozen for over a minute now, not even realizing the paige was walked into the room. you're full of every emotion, you don't know whether to be disgusted, angry, or what

argument breaks out between the two of you, you're yelling at her and accusing her of killing all of your friends. argument ends with paige pushing you against the wall and pressing her mouth against yours, can't help herself but grind herself against you

she's just so whiney while kissing you and trying to speak to you, telling lies about "nonono, i would never do that, you have to believe me, baby.."

ends up with her hands in your shorts, thrusting her fingers deep inside you as you whine for more. you're gone so fast once her thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick circles against it. she can't help but tease you on how "you're such a slut, cumming on my hands knowing that I killed all your friends? your ex girlfriend? just know i'm better than them, hm?"

her movement doesn't stop either as you whine, staring up at her with tears streaming down your face, from the pleasure? or from knowing she killed all those people? you have no idea

her thumb stays rubbing against your clit that you can't help but cum again and again because of her. after your third orgasm she slaps your cunt just slightly before pulling her hand out of your messy shorts.

"can give me more, can't you? waited so long to get you. had to watch people try so hard for you just for them to end up bleeding to death because of me," she's rambling now as she pulls your shorts down, your cum sticking all over your thighs which makes her laugh. "soaking wet as i'm talking about killing them? 's pathetic, y/n." just muttering to herself like she can't stop

forcing you onto the bed as she falls between your thighs, her tongue pushing deep inside you as you cry and try to pull away from the pleasure. she's pulling you back every time, her arms holding you down as you moan for her to stop and slow down. you feel terrible knowing that you're about to cum on her mouth knowing that she killed all those people.. but you just can't help it, she's so hot and just so good at eating you out

eventually you're begging for her cock, random babbles just coming from you as you plead her for more and how "i won't tell anyone, paige!! p-please just want y-you so bad," you're hiccuping and slurring your words slightly from how intense you're orgasms feel

lowkey got carried away with this but i also imagine you either joining her or leaving her... of course joining her would make her extremely happy but leaving?? she's tracking you down and she will find you

taglist for those who commented on the post!! @cosmopretty @martinsgirl @elliecoochieeater @melpthatsme @sweetluna20 @st4rrzynight !!!

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Beloved Mine

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Sam sends out an SOS that Bucky isn't in the best mood, so you see him to ease his mind.

Sammy: SOS. he's in a bad mood!

You read over Sam's text and snort. You quickly type out a reply and start to change from your pjs to some appropriate clothing.

On your way to Bucky's, you stopped by his favorite bakery, grabbing his favorite baked goods as well as a wide variety for his people. You also grabbed him a coffee and a drink for you as well.

Sammy: He almost shot the new guy in the foot. Please tell me you're on your way.

You: ETA 10 minutes.

Sammy: THANK GOD.

You giggle and continue to drive to Bucky's family mansion. At the gate, the security guard takes one look at you and immediately lets you in. You give him a pastry in gratitude before driving up the long gravel driveway.

You park beside Sam's car and hop out. The man at the door nods at you, opening the door wide for you to step in. You also hand him a pastry with a smile.

You head towards the back of the house where you hear a familiar, loud distant voice.

The closer you get, the louder the voice. You push through some of the men spilling out of the room until you're inside.

"-HOW MANY FUCKING MEN DO I GOTTA LOSE TO-honey?"

All eyes land to you. You give a sheepish wave, "Hi, sorry, is this a bad time?" You know it is but you feign ignorance.

Bucky sighs, running his hand through his brunette locks, "Just finishing up a meeting."

"Oh, I can wait-"

"No, no. It's fine. Think they all had enough of my shouting," he waves his hand, "Leave, you fuckers!" most of the people scurry out in an instant, not wanting to wait and see if Bucky changes his mind. A small group stay behind, Bucky's closest friends and confidants: Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, and Nat.

You approach them, setting yours and Bucky's drinks in front of him. You open the pastry box in your hands and hold it out to the four, "Take your pick!"

"You're Heaven sent!" Sam exclaims as he grabs a donut and shoots you a wink. You give him a smirk and a nod.

Joaquin grabs a danish, practically stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

"Did you eat today, Joaquin?"

He shakes his head as he continues to chew the danish. You lift the box higher, "Take as much as you want."

He gives you a grin as he grabs two more pastries and follows Sam out the door.

"Ladies?"

"I'm good," Nat says with a shake of her head in decline.

"Hell yeah, donuts!" Yelena exclaims as she grabs the glazed twists. She hums in delight as she takes a bite, "Thanks, Y/N!"

You chuckle, "You're welcome, Lena."

The two women look to Bucky to see if he needed anything else. Bucky sips his coffee and waves them off and the two file out the door, closing it behind them.

You turn back to Bucky, "Yours are at the bottom," you place the pastry box in front of him.

Bucky's eyes narrow at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Who called you?"

"No one called me."

"So if I check your phone-"

"Technically, Sam texted me. He didn't call me."

Bucky scoffs and shakes his head, "Of course he did."

You walk over to the other side of his desk. He leans back in his chair and you sit on his arm rest, "Bad day?" You begin to run your fingers through his hair and he leans into your touch with a sigh, "Another shipment got intercepted. We lost some guys."

"'M sorry, baby."

"I'm getting real fucking tired of Hydra. And none of my people can find shit out! Anytime they snag one of their guys, they kill themselves before we get any answers. Fucking cowards."

You wrap your arms around Bucky's bulking frame, "You'll figure it out. You always do. Besides, I'm sure Lena and Nat have something cooking, right?"

"Supposedly, but they won't tell me what yet. They're trying to iron out the details."

"Just let them handle it in the meantime. Now, how about a treat?" you grab one of the pastries that you know he loves and he takes a bite. He moans at the taste and his shoulders drop in relief.

He washes it down with his coffee and he looks at you with shining blue eyes, "You really know how to make a guy feel loved, honey."

You giggle, and wipe some crumbs off his chubby cheeks, "Well, duh, I do love you," you peck his lips, "Ease up on everyone, will ya? I know things are tense, but they're all doing the best they can. You can't afford to lose more people."

He slowly nods, "You're right. Fuck, you know, maybe you should step down and take over, hm?"

You throw your head back and laugh, "Oh, please, I'd run your family into the ground! No one would listen to me-"

"Baby, a majority of my people listen to you already."

"...I don't know how to lead people or how the inner workings of all this," you gesture around you, "goes."

Bucky shrugs, "I can teach you. Besides," he takes your left hand, thumb grazing over the diamond ring on your finger, "you should start learning some things anyway."

"Let me just live in ignorant bliss until after the wedding, Barnes," you pat his plump cheeks and he grins at you, eyes soft and full of love.

[juletheghoul]

Grown

AN: I am sort of going through a writing bender? A manic episode? I don't know, I just know that if I don't get it down I will lose my mind. I have been wanting to write an age-gap fic for Joel (aside from LMF) for a while but I couldn't really find the format or the idea that I could sink my teeth into. There are SO MANY good ones out there, I even had a whole other thing started but it got too intense, and making it sexual wouldn't have been true to that version of Joel, so here is what I came up with. (I kept Tess out of this story) Big thank you to @foli-vora for letting me exorcise this demon, and to @frannyzooey for putting up with my endless messages and voice notes through discord, love y'all! (this is unbeta'd and barely proofread, any and all mistakes are mine)

Joel Miller x F!reader (sex worker) (Joel calls you ‘Pretty’)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), fingering, cream pie, one lonely little lick of his cock👅, come play sort of? dirty talk, age gap (legal), feelings of guilt, talk of sex work, some of it traumatic (no details, no violence)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist 

He was a risk, calculated but definitely worth it up close. He fidgeted, flexing and unflexing his hands as you moved around the tiny studio apartment. Your home, and ‘office’. You’d searched long and hard, and paid a hefty price for the soft lamps, the newish linens for your bed, the homey touches.

He shifted his weight as you put the quilt down, separating the outside world from the privacy of your sheets. Easier to clean up after too. 

“Boots off, please.” You gesture to the place by the door, and he nodded with a frown. 

“Sorry.” He groaned as he brought his foot up and for a moment you saw his age, through the pleasant features. 

“No problem, how do you want me?” You stand at the foot of the bed, naked under the well-worn, but cherished robe and for a moment he gawps. You don’t laugh, men don’t like it when you laugh. “On my back?” 

“Wait- how old are you again?” He pads over, tall and broad, obscuring the light source when he walks past it. 

“Old enough.” You smile, “come, why don’t you sit here with me?” You hold out your hand to him, and after a tense glance, he takes it and sits where you gesture. His grip is firm, but soft, years of hard work rooted in the calluses that meet your significantly softer palm. It isn’t a turn off though, he’s a man, men work hard. The real ones do, or did anyway.

“How long do I have? S’there anyone else…?” He trails off, his voice cutting off and you smile, placating. 

“You have as long as you need, tonight's all yours.” You sit beside him, and put your hand tentatively on his arm, channeling every single ounce of calm you have and pouring it into him. He’s warm and alive beside you, heat radiating off him under the soft pass of your thumb against the skin peeking out under the denim sleeve, you let the soft light, the light patter of rain outside your window work on him. He surveys the area, learning the layout of your space and you don’t interfere, you follow his gaze and try to see it all from his point of view. 

It's small, but comfortable. It’s exceedingly clean, you’d spent hours and hours making sure, back breaking hours on your hands and knees scrubbing and washing and it had paid off, no matter how sore you’d been after. There’s a little table, with two chairs, a big lumpy chair near the window, where you spent most of your time not working curled up with one of your precious books. He noticed the tiny chest of drawers, the top of it clear except for a half-full glass of water. He saw the baseball bat leaning against the wall tucked just behind it. 

“Can I get a little closer?” You scoot a little, pressing your thigh to his, turning to hold his restless arm between your breasts, your fingers intertwining with his while he got accustomed to your own warmth. Those big, callused, hard-working hands wrapped up in yours. Invitingly warm.

Some people needed a little push, sometimes they were nervous on how to start and they needed someone to get them out of their heads. Some wanted to talk, to sprawl out naked with you and get all of their thoughts out. 

Loneliness is the main malady you alleviate. 

Some didn’t want to talk at all, some just wanted you to open your legs and take, and that was okay too. Everyone had their thing. 

“This okay?” You put your linked palms on the little bit of skin poking out through the gap in your robe, your skin surrounding both sides of his hand. 

“Yeah, s’okay.” He watches the robe slip open, and his other hand joins the fray, pulling it apart to see more of your thigh. He licks his lip as more of you is revealed and you artfully let the shoulder slip, drawing his eye up to your cleavage. He pats his leg, and you get a genuine thrill, sliding over and up onto his lap. He needed no further guidance after that, now that he had permission, his body was taking over. 

His eyes were dark, focused, tracking the line of your throat when you swallowed thickly. He watched the way your breath hitched when he slid his hand up your inner thigh and found you bare underneath, his fingers slipping through the silky hair at your mound, his fingers parting your lips softly to find your slick folds. He lets out a shuddering breath at the same time you do, when his finger slips over your clit. 

“I’m too old for you, pretty.” He watches his hand between your legs, using it to spread your thighs enough to see your pussy dripping for him. 

“You don’t feel too old.” You hold onto his neck, giving him more access and your stomach drops to feel him hardening under the swell of your ass. You pull his hand from between your legs, and dip his fingers into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around them before pressing them back against your achy clit. He pulls a genuine moan of pleasure at the extra slip when he swirls around your clit nice and slow. Tortuous, and talented.

“So fuckin’ soft,” He glides his fingers down, circling your entrance but his eyes are focused on your mouth now, “bet you’re tight as a fist, aren’t you baby?” He slides two thick fingers inside and you clutch at him, more turned on by him than you’ve ever been doing this line of work.

It’s a stretch, but he works them in, pressing against your upper wall, looking for something and when he finds it you whimper in his arms. 

“Do you kiss?” You barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears, his fingers curling inside you, and he puts more pressure on the button he’s found and you moan, lost and mindlessly enjoying the fullness. 

He presses devastatingly soft, tender kisses to your throat, completely at odds with the wet sounds of his exploration between your legs. 

“Baby, can we kiss?” He repeats it, this time with his fingers still, but stuffed deep. You press your mouth to his, humid and hot and he tastes like the good alcohol you have stashed in your cupboard. He groans and his fingers scissor inside you, squelching between your legs with every lazy pump. He traps your bottom lip between his, alternating a teasing bite to the plump of it, with deep licks into your mouth. You’ve never been kissed like this. 

“You just gonna use your fingers?” He pulls away to skim his nose down your neck, bunching the top of the robe in the splayed hand at your back to pull it down from where it hangs on your shoulder. His mouth engulfs your nipple when it falls and any thoughts that he may be too old for you seem to slip his mind because he doubles down, moaning obscenely into your skin as you leak onto his lap. 

“No, just wanna open you up, I wanna make sure this little pussy can take me.” Arousal and excitement pools in your belly. 

“What a gentleman.” You laugh, half crazed with lust for this man who just might be old enough to be your father. He smiles, drunk on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his spit still shining on your breast. He has a dimple, so boyish in contrast to the grey in his beard and in his hair you can’t help but love it, it suits him.

“Spread your legs a little more for me darlin’,” one hand is heavy on your hip, holding you so you can drop one leg and open up a little more, “I wanna see you come,” he speeds up, his thumb now doing tight little circles against your clit and you moan, unabashedly, “look how wet she is,” he stares between your legs “I just wanna see her come.” He hooks his fingers again and the pressure is almost too much. It only takes a few moments, his fingers pet, pet, pet and then you clench, the pleasure going off in your belly like a bomb, radiating out through your breasts, into your hips, all the way down to your fingers and toes. 

A universe contained within your body, borne of his hand.

“Fuck.” Your legs close over his hand, and he slows down but doesn’t stop, a softer, slower stroke while you catch your breath. “Let's get you outta these clothes.” you start undoing the buttons to his shirt, admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the smattering of freckles littered along his skin. He pulls his fingers out from between your legs, shiny and dripping in you and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the tang of you. 

Undressing him is like opening a gift. His arms are strong, his biceps flexing when he all but lifts you up to stand, pulling your robe off and away from you like it’s on fire. His midsection is soft, but you can feel the strength underneath when you undo his jeans, tensing in excitement the closer you get to the considerable bulge in them. You curl your fingers around both his jeans, and his boxers, impatient to get him naked. You crouch as you pull them down, mouth watering at the size of him, hard and bobbing in front of you. The muscles in his thighs are firm, his skin so warm and you can’t help but lick a stripe up the underside of his cock on the way back up. 

He lets out a sound like he's been punched in the gut and you take it in like sustenance. 

“Don’t–I’ll come too fast if you put it in your mouth.”

You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, just as he reaches down to grab and spread the cheeks of your ass, stomach full of butterflies at the feeling of him hard and leaking against your belly. 

“But I wanna swallow it, I wanna feel it in my throat.” You pout and he lets out a shuddering breath, “Don’t you wanna fuck my mouth?” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat, your fingers slipping through the unruly, grey strands at the back of his neck. 

“Not now baby, I’m barely goin' to last as it is.” He turns you, pressing you to lay in the middle of your quilt and he’s quick to follow, fitting himself between your legs, leaning on one arm beside your skull and when he grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes, you almost can’t watch him. It’s too erotic, it looks so big in his hand, too big to fit but you know it will, he’ll make it fit. 

“Jesus Christ,” He whispers as he feeds himself inside you slowly, an inch, before pulling it out, then a little more, until he’s fucking you a little deeper each time. 

There wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs, he took up every fucking drop. You’d been with other men, you’d been with women, all of them taking their pleasure from your body and most of them giving pleasure in return, this was something else. This was almost scary, the way the vision of him above you made your brain buzz and your nipples hard, made your cunt leak all over him. 

He moves up onto his knees, those big hands pull your legs up and apart, pressing the backs of your thighs into your chest, practically folding you in half to slide his cock deeper still.

He snapped his hips hard, pulling a sound you’d never made out of your mouth, again, and again, until it was a continuous babble. He watches the way his cock disappears inside the tight clutch of your cunt with every dirty roll of his hips. He sinks a little further down, and adjusts his stroke, until just the tip of it stays inside of every heavy push forward. 

This isn’t some desperate, lonely old guy looking to get his dick wet, this is a grown man, fucking you like a grown man does and you feel like a grown woman taking it. 

“Joel, baby that’s so fucking good-“ you press your hands to his chest where he leans against you. He’s focused, eyes glazed over, sweat dripping down his nose in his efforts. He shuts his eyes tight for a moment, his pace stuttering slightly and you know he’s not gonna last.

“I wanna see her come with me inside,” he whines, and you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing so you reach down and swirl your fingers around your clit while he watches, “that’s it baby, that’s it, fuck, I’m close-“ he somehow spreads you wider, the wet suck of your pussy is louder, more obscene, more erotic. 

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ the orgasm strangles the words in your throat, pulsing him out but he pushes back in and you feel it all the way in your toes. 

“Fuuuuuckkk—“ he pulls out and pumps himself furiously against your mound, covering the soft patch of hair in spurt after milky spurt. It’s a lot, some has splashed onto your hip, your belly, you feel it slipping down to where you clench, empty and gaping without him filling you. 

It’s quiet for a moment after, while your blood cools, and he milks himself dry, pumping a few more times despite the over-sensitivity. 

“You got anything for me to clean you up with?” He rubs at the indents he left on the back of your thighs before unfolding you. 

“There’s a little pile of rags in that first drawer behind you.” You point to the tiny chest of drawers, and he groans when he moves up and off of you. Now that he’s emptied his balls, the signs of his age rear their heads. He groans, wincing as he bends forward to carefully wipe everything away with gentle hands. 

It’s nice to see him walk around naked, welcome, you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often, if he came back that was. 

“That was-“ he scratches at the back of his neck, passing the cloth over your belly, “that was really good.”

“I’ll say, it was better than good.” You stretch out and luxuriate like a cat in warm patch of sun, seriously debating offering him time to recover so he could fuck you again. He quirks his lip, the ghost of a smile, the confidence dulled to shy, awkward fumbling. He tosses the rag into the little basket you point to, and he begins the process of getting dressed. You get up when he’s almost done, your thighs, and what’s between already sore and pick up your robe. He’s putting his neat little stack of ration cards on the table when you finish tying it up. 

“Thanks.” He pulls his boots on, opening your door before turning back to find you right on his heels. 

“Anytime.” You smile at him, hoping it won’t be a one-time thing. He moves to step outside but you pull him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking something for your own. He kisses you back when you press your mouth to his, it's softer, his tongue sweet when it tangles with yours and you smile into the kiss when he reaches down, and grabs your ass. 

“Bye, Pretty.”

“Bye Joel.”

-

You hadn't fallen into the work, so much as slowly slid into it. The first time had been almost a dare, a challenge to yourself, a proposition made by someone and maybe your own foolish, naive need to prove that you weren’t some stupid baby. A man, an older man that had shared cleaning duty with you had come right out with it, saw you bending over to pick something off the floor and told you that he’d pay every ration card he had for a taste of that ass, as he so eloquently put it. 

At first you’d been shocked, he seemed like a perfectly bland, run of the mill survivor making his way in the QZ, but he’d been serious. You’d asked him to clarify, to repeat his words, and he had. He’d shaken his hands of the dirt and dust of the job, produced a tiny stack of much needed ration cards from a hidden pocket and held them out for you like a cold glass of water in the desert. Something inside you had recoiled, he wasn’t repulsive, but he wasn’t exactly the object of your late night fantasies. Another part though, a hidden little sliver of something jumped at the chance to have some power, some semblance of control and so without much thought to consequence, you’d taken him up on it. 

An uncomfortable fifteen minutes later, he was grunting behind you, stroking himself furiously to paint the cheeks of your ass in his come. 

Once it was done, the little part of you that had welcomed the challenge was curiously absent, and the part that had recoiled was bigger, swelling like some awful, infected limb. But you had rations enough to stop working for a few days, and that took some of the repulsion away. 

It was a while before you did it again. It was a while before you saw the man again, maybe part of you, that ever-present bit of self-preservation urged you to avoid him but he eventually found you again. This time you turned him down, and he hadn’t pressed, but he’d told others. Other men who seemed to sniff you out, some of them older, and less diplomatic and those you told to fuck off. Some of the younger ones though, closer to your age looking for the experience, some of them you took in, with the strict promise to never tell anyone unless they wanted to never see you again. Those experiences were better, less traumatic. 

After that it seemed like things came together, you had a steady string of people who took you seriously and paid up front. 

The first woman had been a girl of around your age, she’d heard from a friend of a friend, carefully and strategically keeping the source to herself. You’d never really given it much thought but once you did it seemed only natural, women got lonely too, and there was nothing about her that you didn’t understand. So you accepted her, took her rations and gave her as much of yourself as you gave the men. 

It’d taken time to establish yourself, to find the regular people you let into the circle, it was all much easier now. With the exception of Joel, you hadn’t taken on someone new in a while, but he made you glad you did.

-

His hands always shake before it starts. 

It’s a light tremble, a couple of fingers in his left hand and you aren’t entirely sure if it’s an injury, or a sign of nerves. He’s hard of hearing in one ear too, his right. You hadn't picked up on it at first but once you do, it makes sense. He tilts his head to the right a tiny bit, turning his good ear towards your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. 

He was older than the rest, that did bother him, but never enough to stop visiting. He dragged it out sometimes, made himself wait, avoided you, but whether it took him a week or a month, he came back. 

“Hi Joel.” You smiled to see him standing at the threshold, fingers twitching by his side, his hair a mess, a small bundle in his grip.

“Hi.” He doesn’t smile back, he’d waited too long, the frown practically tattooed on. He puts the bundle down on the dresser after kicking off his boots, and doesn’t mention it. 

It’s dark outside, later than you usually let anyone come see you but for him you make exceptions. His hands keep rubbing at his thighs, his eyes darting around, you let him settle for a moment, get his bearings before jumping into anything, it’s a dance and you both have your steps. 

“How do you want me?” You finally break the silence once he sits on the quilt. He looks up at you, but doesn’t answer right away, his eyes fall to your cleavage, then down to your waist where the robe is cinched, then further still to your hips. You move closer, until you stand between his spread thighs. 

“Hm? Wanna fuck me on my back? Or should I get on my hands and knees?” You thread your fingers through his hair, slicking it back as best you can, he shudders at your words and at the feeling of your hands on him, putting up his usual show of shame at being here with you, at being older. “Should I get on my knees right here and suck your cock?” His hands land on your hips, his face pressing against your sternum, robe parting enough for him to press his lips to the valley between your breasts.

“You’re too fuckin’ soft, way too fuckin’ pretty to be lettin’ me touch you.” He always does this, has to make it known that you shouldn’t let him do this, that he shouldn’t want you like this. It never stops him, he opens the robe and pushes it off to fall on the floor regardless of his words and moans into the skin of your breast where he nuzzles like a cat.

“Prettiest thing I ever saw.” His mouth laves at one pert nipple, then the other, leaving them hard and shiny when he trails his kisses down to your belly. 

All day you’ve thought about him here, getting to have him to yourself, opening you up and molding you to fit him like a glove, making you see stars like he always does. And all day you’ve felt that slow simmer of arousal, that steady ache to bloom and gape for him, both soft and obscene. The constant excitement of anticipation. His mouth on your nipples only served to turn it up to an inferno, turning you to liquid for him. 

“But I like when you touch me.” You scratch at his scalp, pressing his face into your skin, “I like it when you fuck me, you make it so good, much better than anyone else.” You flatter him, but you don’t lie to him. You’ve learned to be impartial to your experiences, sex is work. As fun as it can be with some of them, it’s all a means to an end, you need to eat and so you do what you have to do. You are also realistic about him, he is not your boyfriend, he’s not your partner, he barely gives you a second glance on the street but in here, he’s your favourite. He fits you better than anyone and anything, and as much as you hate to admit it, you need him as much as he needs you.

He takes in the words, believes them and relishes them. 

“How do you want me, Joel?” You pull his face up, bending down to kiss him before he can answer and his desperation comes through. His tongue is insistent, his kiss almost violent. 

“I want you here-“ he pats the bed, before getting up to take his clothes off. You help him, both of you working efficiently until he’s as naked as you are. His cock is already hard, the tip of him pearly with his own want despite any and all notions of impropriety. 

His body always betrays him. 

He gets you on your back, but he doesn’t lay on top of you, rather beside you. He doesn’t let you turn to face him, he wants it like this, his body curling around yours to be able to see it spread out for him without himself in the way. 

“Open up for me, s’good, just like that.” He takes the thigh closest to him and drapes it over his hip, positioning himself to enter you from underneath. He lifts his head, showcasing his core strength to watch as he brings his cock to the open mouth of your cunt, sliding in without so much as a warning. You feel exposed, spread open and bare under his eye and it only heightens the experience, cracking something open inside of you. 

His hips push and pull slowly, lazily at first despite how fucking hard he is but doesn’t last. The sight in front of you there, breasts bouncing with every snap, is too much for him. With one hand free, he strums and plucks at your nipples, opening up the dam between your thighs to ruin the quilt underneath. 

His other hand isn’t idle though, it slips down, grabbing onto the plush of your ass, holding you in place hard enough to bruise. 

“That feel good?” He watches you leak all over him, and knows it does but he wants to hear it anyway. 

“Yes- Yes Joel–” You moan, turning to watch his face. 

“This little cunt goin' to come for me? I wanna see her come, I wanna feel her choke my dick.” He surges forward, swallowing the moan from the source before speeding up. His cock strokes, strokes, strokes and you feel the warmth blooming in your core, spreading like a wildfire through your hips, the release so close you can almost taste it, you whine and he shushes you, his voice soft despite how depraved you feel with his cock kissing something sacred inside of you. 

You roll your hips to meet his thrusts and sweat builds in your hairline and at the back of your neck, collects and slips where your skin and his meet.

“I know baby, I know, I can feel her, she wants to come doesn’t she?” His lips press against your cheek, his words warm against your skin. His lips are so soft, so plush as he pants into your face, goosebumps cover your body. You nod against him, mouth open in a silent scream when he adjusts his angle slightly. 

He’s no longer able to form complete sentences, his words are reduced to a repeated chant of yeah baby, yeah baby, right there, right there huh? Barely formed questions for the answer you know he already knows and then his fingers are in your mouth, stretching out your lips, holding your mouth open in a filthy, yet pale imitation of what his cock is doing.

You drool, and you don’t care but it’s what he wants, he takes it from your mouth and slides it over your clit and it’s like he’s pressed the nuclear codes in your body. 

You want to curl into yourself, but you can’t, his grip tightens, painfully, holding you to take and take and take his cock until he bursts inside you like a ripe berry. His groan is almost more obscene than the act, his groin pressed up against you tight, pressing himself deeper than ever to paint your cervix in his come. 

“Fuck–” He presses the word to your cheek, sliding his sweat soaked face down your neck, to your shoulder. He pulls out after a moment, and you feel him leak out of you. He moves to hover over you, pulling one nipple into his mouth to taste before the blood has cooled, and then the other. He isn;t done yet though, he kneels between your spread legs, inspecting the mess he’s made of your pussy, a self satisfied look on his face. 

“Gonna dream about this, while I’m gone.” He lifts your legs, pressing them up and open and slips two fingers deep inside to push his come back in and as you moan at the act, you cannot help but wonder where that worried, too-old Joel is right now. 

“Prettiest little cunt.” He says it to himself, rubbing his mess into the sensitive walls of your sex like a balm. 

He licks his fingers after, tasting the combined flavours of both of you. Your heart almost can’t take it. 

Once he’s dressed, and you have gained enough strength to get up and put your robe on he’s almost back to his shy self. 

“I have the rations here, but I brought somethin’ else.” He gestures to the little bundle he’d left on your dresser, “I found it, thought you might like it.” He opens it, and it’s a can of peaches. 

“Oh!” You’re genuinely taken aback. 

“You ain’t allergic right?” He frowns, and you smile, something soft spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the sex you just had.

“No, I’m not allergic. Thank you Joel, I am really excited for this.” You ignore the soreness between your legs and close the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in thanks. 

“Well alright then.” He frowns again, and it’s not shyness you see on his face now, it’s awkwardness, it’s a man who doesn’t know how to be soft, but is trying his hardest. 

“Bye Pretty.” He lingers at the door, devouring you with his eyes and even though he was still dripping out of you, you felt naked and exposed, open and spread out for his gaze. 

“Bye Joel, don’t wait too long to come see me again okay?” You press yourself against him, the soft lines of you tucked tight against the hard angles of him. He gifts you with a rare smile but doesn’t respond, save for a toe curling kiss at your threshold before he’s gone. 

Hours later, when your body is truly sore and spent, you lay in bed with a book, eating the peaches he brought, and wonder idly what he’ll bring next time. 

-

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[parfaitblogs]

can I ask a blurb of post prison spencer and sunshine reader? She works in the BAU as the media liaison and when she rescues him in the episode 300 he looks at her and is like angel? Am I in Heaven?

spencer reid x sunshine!reader. fluff/hurt/comfort. also angst if you squint. i should’ve just slapped smut in here to make it a quinfecta! 0.5k words. gn!liaison!reader. set during '300'.

a/n: thank you for sending me back into orbit by getting me to rewatch those two episodes. i need spencer reid biblically. unfortunately that's not what this blurb is about. but i was audibly barking every time i pictured him. i am terribly sorry for keeping you on edge about when this was going to be posted </3 i wasn’t sure how happy i was with it for the longest time. thank u for the request ♡

spencer reid who accepted his fate the second he was taken hostage. because honestly, the likelihood of his team finding and rescuing him in time was slim to none, and he had lost wars to hope too many times before.

spencer reid who tried to stall his death with a speech, trying to dull the uncomfortable ache in his chest thinking nobody was coming to save him. maybe he could lie his way into believing his team had found him, and he would picture their faces before he inevitably died.

spencer reid who definitely did not expect the awfully loud gunshot — one, then two — ringing throughout the air, followed by panic and yelling. who wished he could've been relieved to see each face of his team slowly appearing in his view, followed by more gunshots, and the promise that he was safe.

he had already accepted death. 

but, spencer reid who's entire facade changed the second you came into view. no gun in hand, because you never were expected to need one, which was even more horrifying to him than the fact that he had been milliseconds away from his own death.

spencer reid who stared at you like he was but a planet and you were the sun he was orbiting, something he knew he'd get teased for later. but right now you were here and he was watching you attempt to unbuckle each leather strap holding his limbs into place, strained laughter escaping him every time you failed because your hands were shaking so hard.

spencer reid who's face fell when you finally met his gaze to get the leather strap holding his head in place, and he could see the tears brimming your eyes and he could hear the sniffles you were intaking to keep your emotions at bay. an achingly painful contrast to the facade he was used to seeing on you.

spencer reid who asked "what's wrong?" and who's heart ached when your response was "i thought i was going to lose you". spencer reid who's heart probably shouldn't have then stuttered like that in his chest at your admission, and he definitely shouldn't have allowed the rush of hope at your words.

but, worse than that, he realised he had accepted his death without thinking, and if he died, he was leaving you and perhaps that was worse than any situation he has been in before, in all fifteen years he's at the bureau.

and you, who's vision was awful from the tears you were attempting to keep at bay, yet you stared at him for a beat, taking in every graze and bruise on his face the best you could to commit them to memory, before wrapping both arms around him and pulling him into you. spencer reid who sobbed in your arms; a scenario you had never even considered the possibility of because spencer reid did not cry anymore, and prison had fractured him in ways you cannot even begin to comprehend. but he was here, and he was crying again, and sad sight or not, he was feeling.

spencer reid who thanked you over and over again for finding him, because no, he really didn't want to die. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

ahhhh hi!! If your requests are still open, could I please have Yandere hcs of transformers prime Optimus and Megatron(separate) with a gn reader? If you want you can also add in a random character for Yandere hcs as well! Thank you for your time have a good one!

(Turns around the with the most evil smile of them all) Now we getting freaky!! (•ˋ w ˊ•) Hue-hue-hue !

Yandere!Optimus Prime & Yandere!Megatron (TFP) Headcanons!

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, stalking, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, kidnapping, a lil mention of body horror (not sure if it counts). Reader is Gender Neutral.

OPTIMUS PRIME

I will classify Optimus as a Protective, soft worshipper yandere that has a little hint of uncanny valley (I'll talk about this in a moment).

Optimus' life is sadly surrounded with tragedy as he tries to keep a hopeful light on top of his helm for the sake of not giving up and letting down the Autobots.

We now how Optimus is always mourning and yet keeping his helm up, being strong for the others, being idolized by others and having the fate of "the chosen one" written all over him when... he never asked for it.

And he is tired. It's like he is always walking in the middle of the darkness with not a single path to take - lost, feeling like he is losing himself piece by piece... until You arrived.

As a beacon of light.

He has lost too many loved ones - friends, teammates... but deep down, silently, always thanked Primus to have taken anyone else and not You.

I think Optimus' yandere personality would be like Akemi Homura's love for Kaname Madoka - everytime he sees you, he sees nothing but light. Hope. Perfection. Your existence brings nothing but pure happiness and warmth.

The yandere to always kneel in front of you and hold your hands, thanking you for existing and deem him worthy enough of having your presence near him.

If you are a cybertronian, he would pray to Primus for the day to come he finally confesses his love for you, and you share said feelings too and become his Conjux Endura, in this life and the next one.

If you are a human, he would feel this burning need to become your guardian, your protector. His little safe space from the war and battles, always asking you things about your world and about you, promising you with every breath he takes he is going to keep you safe.

Either as a cybertronian or human, he is not letting you anywhere close to battles. He can't lose you. He won't lose you.

Remember the Uncanny valley thing I said? I see Optimus as this kind of yandere that forgets that he is existing in the same place as you - and stares. Just... stares.

The only thing that is giving out he is still living is how his optics move little by little, remembering everything about you again and again, his systems replaying his promises to you and why he keeps fighting, why he is willing to sacrifice the others and himself - to protect you.

Imagine the Yuri stare moment from Doki Doki Literature Club. Yeah, that is the Uncanny Valley I'm talking about.

Following you, stalking you - and you don't actually see him at first (How when he is just the size of a giant?). You move, you go from place to place, room to room. Until you finally find him, peaking from somewhere. Staring at you as you are swallowed by the shadow he casts upon you.

"My spark... my deity. My one and only." He whispers as he gently snuzzles his helm against your helm/torso as he holds you closely to him.

MEGATRON

Megatron gives me the vibes to be a yandere that changes from a type to another.

Definitely an aggressive yandere, but transitions from sadistic-possessive to delusional-paranoiac with the past of times and the events you live with him.

Megatron can see as much as he wants that he only wants a 'strong significant other' by his side and that he 'will not stick to a weak individual' - if he falls and falls hard it is done for him.

You are going to be in this situation of being seen as an equal but also as a pet or possession he owns in his optics.

Definitely kidnaps you - no matter if you are a human or cybertronian, either part of the Autobots, neutral or a Decepticon.

Is not afraid to threaten you or even hurt you (but not that much, he wants you still alive, after all - he can't love you if you are no longer breathing).

Actively reminds you he owns you.

"You are MINE. I will tear any bot's throat if they ever think they can take you from me - so you better think carefuly the moment you open your mouth, dear. Unless you want to see energon or blood all over the place."

The transition I told you about would happen only if your life is put in danger and actually get too close to die.

Imagine if you are hurt, bleeding and bruised but still breathing, totally gonna survive and live another day. Megatron is not a mech to feel fear. But Primus - he felt a dread and despair as he kept processing what happened, hugging you against his chestplate as his system spirals deeper and deeper, his need to possess you becoming paranoia.

If you are a cybertronian, Megatron is going to start having ideas about... merging his spark with yours - but in a sense fusing, becoming literally one - you'll be his spark as he becomes your body.

"You'll become the energon running inside of my system, my software and system, the spark - that way, no one will take you away from me."

If you are a human, will get Soundwave, Knockout and Shockwave to work on a project - to build you a cybertronian body and fuse you with it, defying the laws of your lifespan and finally making you one of his kind.

"There you are... stop crying, my dear. You are perfect now - and as long as I live, you will live. My conjux endura."

My baby brain hurts, had a headache for like 3 hours. (っ´Ι`)っ Vhaos out!

[abbyshands]

Okay, okay this: https://twitter.com/_itsselene/status/1674342250934071296?t=z0-dDpfZTnWteHqfwEdvhg&s=19

But its Dom nerdy! Abby👀

18+ past this, minors DNI

yeah, this post? butterflies. just imagining this with abby in general, but then NERDY abby on top of that? well, yes!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

you’ve been bad. giving abby those fuck me eyes during your class that day, whispering all the shit you want her to do to you when you get back to your dorm, when no one’s looking, lifting your tank top up to expose your belly and part of your bra, just because you were “hot” during the day.

well, she wasn’t having any of that shit.

“hold still,” abby barked as she held you in place. you’re sitting on the couch in the living room of you and abby’s dorm, abby on her knees before you. your legs are spread out for her, her in the middle of them, face buried deep into your pussy.

you’re crying, abby having made you cum way too many times by now as punishment for your behavior. squirming, you manage broken whimpers, moaning, “p- please, abby, fuck. m’sorry. i know i was bad, fuck—just, please.”

“no,” abby said firmly as she pressed her lips to your folds once more, lapping at you shamelessly. “you want to act like a brat, m’gna fuck you like one.”

her glasses are fogged up as she fully reattaches her lips to your aching cunt, licking you in a way that should be criminal for how good it feels. you’re whining and whimpering above her, doing your best to squirm out of her grasp.

it doesn’t go well.

“stop crying,” she demands, her large hands gripping at your thighs so that you’ve got nowhere to go. she buries her face back into you, yanking you closer for her own access. and then, she pushes her tongue inside you, fingernails pressed into your thighs all the while.

you arch your back off the couch, and abby’s relentless. if you think she’s going to stop just because you’re moving away from her, you’re dead wrong. to her, it only emphasizes how much a brat you really are.

she’s lapping at your clit like she’ll lose oxygen if she doesn’t, her face red as her glasses become so foggy you can barely see her eyes. your whining and whimpering loudly, body aching.

and you can’t even tell if it’s for abby, or for abby to stop.

likely the former.

wherever your body moves, abby follows closely behind it, chasing you like you’ll get away if she doesn’t. it’s a skill, really, how easily her lips remain on your pussy even when you squirm to the point where she shouldn’t be able to manage it.

but that was abby for you.

“giving me those fucking eyes all day. you wanted me to do to this to you, begging me like the little slut you are,” she growls into your cunt, using one of her hands to push a finger inside of you rough as she speaks. you whine, and shake your head.

“f- fuck! please, m’sorry. i didn’t mean it!” you cry out, but you know it’s no use: feigning innocence you damn well don’t have is an act that abby has seen through time and time again.

it’s abby’s turn to shake her own head as she removes her finger from your cunt as quickly as she had put it in. then, she grabs your thighs once more, forcing her face back into your pussy. “don’t you fucking lie to me,” she says, letting your name fall off her lips at the end in the meanest way she could have said it.

you move your body from side to side, but abby follows you wherever you go, sucking, licking, and fucking your pussy as forcefully as she possibly can, lips and tongue working their magic. your naked body shakes as you gaze at her from above, one more orgasm bubbling up inside you.

your back is pressed into the couch as abby suddenly pulls her head back and away from your cunt. the fog in her glasses fades away as she uses one second, one second to breathe, her face arguably hotter than yours considering how red it is. and just when you think she’s done. . .

this time, she pushes her hands under your knees, and yanks you closer that way, your body sat on the edge of the couch as she buries her face into your pussy once more. the word for it is manhandling, and she doesn’t give a fuck that she’s doing it.

“f- fuck, abby!” it’s all you can do to not scream, burying your face in one of the pillows on the couch, doing your best to muffle every noise leaving your lips. abby kisses your cunt with an aggressive hunger that you know will fuel this session for at least an hour more.

“shut the fuck up,” she mumbles, lips too full of your pussy to get any coherent words out. “saw you rubbing your thighs during class,” she says to you sporadically, lips sucking your clit as she does.

“you’re just too fucking needy. want me so bad you can’t even wait to get back to the dorm. eager slut,” abby barks, using her hands to grab you by the ass this time, pulling you back to where she needs you to be for her own access.

“please, f- fuck! please, abby, m’so sorry, i am, fuck,” you can barely get your words out as she pushes her hands under your knees again, spreading your legs wide as she eats your pussy as aggressively as she can go.

“don’t care,” abby murmurs, tongue circling your clit as her glasses quickly fog up again. you can see evidence of your arousal on the rims of them, and it’s only then that you see how wet you really are. “i’m not gonna stop till you’ve learned your lesson.”

she pushes herself into you more, and you know there’s no escaping the hold she has on your legs. as much as you squirm and scream and cry, wriggling in response to her lips on your cunt, abby pulls you in just as much, not giving a care to how much you move away.

you feel your release approaching rapidly when abby’s aggression forces you to lay flat on the couch, making it way too easy for her this time. her eyes are closed as she focuses on fucking you with her tongue, hands pushing your legs apart, fingernails gripped under your knees.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, please,” you whine, nipples bouncing up and down as abby rams her lips into your pussy. your whimpers only encourage her to go faster, eager to get you off.

you let out a loud moan as you finally climax, your release spilling all over abby’s face, and glasses, for the millionth time that day. abby forces you to ride it out, tongue on your clit until you’ve fully finished.

abby pulls away from you wordlessly, and casually does what you’ve seen her do time and time again today: use her tank top to wipe your cum off her glasses, making one more note to clean them properly later on, just to add to the hundreds that she’s already made. and as soon as she’s done. . .

abby dives back down, and grabs both your thighs aggressively, forcing you to spread your legs wide again, which you had done your best to close as she was cleaning her glasses.

looks like that didn’t work.

“abby, c’mon, please,” you whimper out in the neediest voice you can manage. “i- i’ve learned my lesson already.”

“i already said what i said, didn’t i? m’not gonna quit until i fuck this bratty attitude right out of you. so give me a word,” abby commands.

you sigh. “green.”

[shaisuki]

WOUNDS FOR ME TO HEAL

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ content warnings body image, talks about insecurities, mentions of past traumas, angst, ooc geto and gojo. i wrote this at five am and i still have not sleep yet.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ notes i'm sorry for the lack of update on this series. I've kind of lost interest in this one since i'm no good in plotting and writing multiple chaps. you can read from how it have gotten boring starting from the previous chapters. i apologize now for the confusion of the plot.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmike @spicana @luvsymai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @aesonsgirl @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunaemoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno@sleighter @haesify @desperadaparasapagmamhal @ichikanu @daytej @0honeylemonade

to break from the past you desperately want to forget, facing them is the only choice you have left to move forward and is forgiveness is easy to be given as it was forgetting.

your fingers reach for the switch. flipping it and the light turns on, illuminating the bathroom where you spent your days staring at the large mirror by the sink. back in the days you avoided mirrors finding your reflection repulsive added by the torture where they forced you to touched yourself. confidence isn't the only qualities you wished you have and maybe thing weren't be this bad. a constant battle to yourself where you always lose.

grabbing the collar of your coat, you slowly removed it, followed by stripping out of your blouse and then your pants until you were left in your undergarments. there in the mirror stood you.

your reflection clear as the daylight and you can see every imperfections that you hated. the words came echoing how the strangers surrounded you holds such sharp tongues about your body when they didn't live on it. the venom in the words stinging your skin like it was a sin to grew with a body you have.

you scan your body with every flaw you can see starting from your face. round and the baby fat since you were born didn't dissolve as you grew up. the cheeks remains the same. you slightly cringe at the pain surfacing. this is where gojo have pinched your cheeks so bad that they started to bruise. he pays no attention to your eyes swelling with tears, too indulged in the feeling of the softness of your cheeks that he can't believe that they were that squishy and the many times where they would grasp it when they force to look in the eyes. geto is cruel when he comes to cup your cheeks in his hands and your jaw also.

then your eyes. the eyes you own where it cried tears. there's nothing bad about them. it just it have seen the hundreds of event in where they defiled you. the degrading actions you have done out of their expenses and you hear nanami's words. “they're kind. the gentlest of eyes i have seen in a person. never to cloud with wrath and kindness is the only thing you could ever see.” you remember him saying that to you. one night when you're in the brink of losing yourself and you lost the hope to move forward. you find his own eyes staring back at you. honey is the color of them and when you look farther it's brown and then this close it's a different shade of color. a sugar caramelizing in a hot pan and the thought of nanami's eyes brought you peace.

you see your lips curving into a smile in the reflection but it turns into a thin line when your eyes move to look at your flabby arms. the slightest of movement and just holding of it moves. you remember a joke to one of your skinny classmates that it is almost the size of their legs while it's true, you thought that they should have never pointed it out since you already knew it and it's not like within seconds it would disappear.

it was with you in a different time of the span of your life and then the biggest insecurity that comes into view is your stomach. it was round with the pooch almost drooping down but it is still big that pokes in tight shirts and where you find him lying down. your palms touch the squishy flesh. you grabbed a handful of it before letting it go. watching it jiggle and you look at it weird. it once carried life and after scrutinizing yourself from head to toe. you never changed and only gained the weight. you laugh at yourself like you heard something stupid. you tried to lost the weight but it's something that won't leave you and you accepted it. long ago where you've decided you want to be a better version for yourself and for the people that surrounds you, especially the two who have been your light.

after your little session with yourself, you made it a habit to do so. to remind what needed to be done and you won't be blinded again by such pretentious acts. part of you wanted to fight but you were weak and you cannot be weak when you want to fight. you set aside the thoughts for tonight, what happened earlier scared you. meeting him early wasn't intended but you did and it scares you. what if you suddenly revert back to the old helpless you. your body can betray you at such times and you needed a mind to remind and you scoff. you act like the wounds and how they scarred you didn't turned your flight or fight mode. there are things that much needed your attention and you're only starting to wrap things up.

after a quick bite, you quickly made your way to your work cubicle. paperwork's are starting to pile and you don't want to be buried underneath by it and you start except there was a huge bouquet of flowers sitting in your desk. an arrangement of deep purple hyacinths and daffodils. there's no note about it but you knew where this is coming from. without a second thought you grabbed the flower arrangement that cost more than what its worth and dunked it into your trash can. you didn't need it. it's a distraction and flowers won't make you forget and forgive. it would cost more than that.

sighing, you rubbed a sore spot in your temple. taking a big breath and exhaling. you settled in your chair. punching the keyboard with the documents needing to be submitted in the later day. glancing at the already wilting flowers rotting in your trash. this isn't going to be easier. they're already moving and sooner or later you're going to meet them. your fears already coming back and you clenched your fists. crumpling the paper you hold.

“satoru~”

a flirtatious voice coming from his fiancee who is seated on his lap. poking him with her acrylic nail in his cheek to get his attention. “you're not spending time with me anymore.” her voice sad and the gloss in her lips sticks upon pouting. gojo almost rolls his eyes but for appearances and to satiate his fiancee's attention from him, he plays along. “sayuri, i am. why are you in my lap then?” he bites his tongue from making it sound sarcastic but his fiancee was oblivious to it and continues her childish whims to to him.

“because i missed you and i want your attention.” her hands creeping up on his thigh and satoru winces from it. he hold her wrist. “laters, baby. i'm expecting company.” he interrupts her advances and it made her annoyed.

“with who?” she asks. batting those eyelashes that made her look like a stupid bitch. “suguru.” her eyes brightened like she received a good news. “then he won't mind.” she says. trying to convince him of staying but gojo isn't convinced in the slightest. sayuri's been desperately clinging to him since college and hasn't left his side ever she knows that they were about to be engaged and now engaged, she's been worst.

“private matters between us and it's not your business.” he doesn't look at her and his sight stays glued to his phone. sayuri smiles at him before kissing his cheeks and then getting up on his lap much to her dismay. she began to slowly walk away and part of her hopes he would call her and ask her to stay. say he don't mind and suguru could go fuck himself if he don't want her staying him but it was a far cry from what she hoped. deep down, she's always second to the bitch that got the best friends head over heels even if they won't show it, especially satoru but what about it, the fat bitch's probably dead and she's the winner. satoru belongs to her and later suguru would be next. the heels click against the cold floors and that's the only thing she hears as she walked away from her fiancé's office and with her thoughts.

his eyes search for something, specifically someone. the one who had been haunting him since that accident. your disappearance were a blow to him and he longs to see you again even a glimpse of you is enough to know you were alive and within in his grasp.

he spots you taking a phone call, papers in your hand as you diligently arranged them while being in a call and it was enough for him. a small smile etched in his face. while in the elevator ride, you didn't change after that. still plump and you look like you've gained more and his hands itched to touch you. feel your body move and hear your voice.

despite busy schedules he took time to meet satoru who was equally busy as him. he's building his own firm with the influence he have it won't take long before it's established and he already have people following him and he was earning from it.

the elevator dings, stepping out. he barely glanced at satoru's secretary. what's the reason to check up on his secretary when he usually frequents the building and is a long time friends with the ceo.

upon entering, he finds satoru in deep thought. “yo, satoru.” he casually calls him and satoru perks up at the sound of his voice. they settled in one of the couches except for where he's seated as the ceo.

“is there a progress, satoru?” he began. since you were in gojo's turf working under him, he let gojo shoot his shot at you and from the looks of it, the answer is disappointing and when this kind of dilemma occurs. patience isn't what satoru's next move. it would be brash and that will definitely spook you for good. suguru chuckles at satoru's silence before sipping from his cup or tea he brewed.

“flowers won't win her, satoru and certainly not those gifts you've been dumping on her desk. bet she'd thrown that out. she's not you fiancee.”

gojo groans at the thing where his fiancee is brought up and the failed attempts of wooing you anonymously. you know it was him but choose to ignore it without hesitation of dumping his gifts and not even showing the faintest of appreciation.

“and what do you propose, suguru?”

they both exchanges gazes and they know what the answer is. they have to meet you, personally.

it's been a year since you've started working here for the company and your supervisor have taken a liking to you. you were more like of her assistant than the other and you kinda felt bad about it since you're eclipsing her job but the other's fine with it means she could slack and you can even workloads now with the same pay check. you didn't complain though and with your supervisor being this attentive you might get the recommendation you needed to rise and it would be a good reference for when you're about to switch jobs.

currently, you were busy preparing the files that were needed for a meeting. the client decided they would like to meet up in a private restaurant. it wasn't a first to you since you've dealt previous appointments similar to this and besides your supervisor was going to be there or is she?

apparently, she have to cancel and let you handle this one since she trusts you she says before running to the upper floor to get her other duties. it was last minute that's why she have to let you go alone and you accepted it without hesitation cause you were just getting over proposals. get them to sign and you're done. it's courtesy to transact faster.

a high-end restaurant is where they have decided and you weren't surprised by it. half of the work force who have the same job as yours and exclusive clients choose to use restaurants like this as a meeting place.

upon arrival, you greeted the host and told the name of the client.

“hi, i have the reservation under mr. kobayashi for three pm.” you politely inform him and the host nods before ushering you to a private room. “mr. kobayashi informed us that he will be running late and you have to wait here.” the host told you and you nod. understanding the situation and this happens occasionally. you thanked him before seating in one of the chairs. you didn't bother to notice the arrangements since your supervisor isn't available at the moment. thus, you began to review the files you were about to show mr. kobayashi.

the doors open and that takes your attention from the files you were checking. your head low and when you raised your head. standing up to greet mr. kobayashi. the words for stuck before you can utter his name.

it wasn't mr. kobayashi, a balding man, whose in his fifties in a suit is what you expected instead it was two of them who have entered. a matching suit and tie but it differs in color. a navy colored suit is what gojo wear and a coal black suit for geto.

“stay where you are, (y/n). we have things to discuss.” suguru started and your legs felt weak. your heart beating rapidly and your hands starts to feel clammy. you want to throw up and just like that, it looks like you were teleported back in that cold room where you lay naked without a voice to speak and the strength to fight back.

after ordering the waiter to come back for a another hour, you feel trapped again with no means of escape. they can easily hold you down and worse, do it again. you have never felt this fear so you distract yourself from taking a sip of water.

they both sat down in their chairs beside you. not too far, not too close but it doesn't ease your nerves. you placed your hand in your thigh, your leg hasn't stopped shaking. a tick that developed, being triggered when you are put in a stress.

satoru places his hand in your shoulder. “don't touch me.” you muster the courage to speak up and he was quick to retract his hand back to its place. a touchy asshole who can't live without any physical contact. he was visibly annoyed and suguru shoots him a look.

“we won't do anything to you, (y/n). we just want answers.” suguru assures you. you take a brief look at him and you take a deep breath.

“answers for what? i'm not obligated to answer the questions you want to ask.” you swallowed thickly. you should have done it a long time ago. talk like this but you would get a spanking for it.

satoru rolls his eyes. you were this feisty since college and he's getting the full brunt of it right now. he's not the same anymore he would tell himself but sometimes he still is. “what happened to you that night?” is the first question he asked you. they know what happened to you that night but it would ease them if the answer comes from you.

you raised a brow at him. tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. you didn't have much memory of it except for when you woke up at a hospital with nanami and haibara at your side.

���i don't know. i just woke up in a hospital. doctors saying i was in coma for two days. might as well be dead.” you say without hesitation and you just want to leave this room.

their expressions is what you cannot make. disbelief? confusion? guilt? you laughed at the last part since when these two felt guilt about what happened to you. they certainly didn't feel guilty when you were crying your eyes out begging them to stop.

“why come working at my company, (y/n)-chan?” gojo was the next to ask you and you want nothing than to wipe that look on his face.

“don't you call me (y/n)-chan. i am not your (y/n)-chan. i needed a job. isn't it that obvious.” you want to scoff at him and you didn't dare make eye contact to the both of them.

“you transferred hospitals and never came back. w—”

“why i didn't came back?” you interrupted geto. oh boy, you were starting to spit venom. “so what? you can fuck me all over again?”

gojo was about to open his mouth again but you beat him to it. “it's not what it is? you didn't mean it? what? you two are changed people now? stop with the excuses and please i want to be excused in this farce of a meeting.”

“you're not resigning.” gojo warns you. “rest assured i'm not going to. i'm not planning to break my contract.” you tell him. your voice barely above a whisper. trying to keep your tears at bay.

“(y/n)...” suguru mutters. his hand holding your cheek and you close your eyes. his touch repulsed you but why does your body wanted to be held like this. he comes closer. “we can't change what we did to you but will you allow us to make it up to you?”

you opened your eyes and you met his own and it just reminded you of the misery and the torture they put you through. the same eyes who looks at you like you were trash is now somewhat holding warmth. you glance at gojo and he was also anticipating for your answer.

you inhaled and then exhaled. a stray tear rolling down in your cheek and it pains them to see you hurting from what they have done. they'll do anything in their power to make up for the pain they caused you. say the word and they'll do it. your forgiveness is what they wanted and maybe your affections too but they won't take that chance easily.

your eyes searched for the sincerity in their looks and mostly in their eyes and it was honestly true to their words and you hate yourself for what you are about to answer.

“i'll think about it.”