#i know nothing about doll anatomy.

[azidoazide-art]

part 2 of 2! another OC from a couple years ago. this one is a cursed puppet made in the shape of an acrobat. It's not allowed to stop dancing, and seeks to entertain anyone it can find.

[howlingscarlet]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥

ㅤ♡ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Bucky Barnes x reader

ㅤ♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Bucky gets a little carried away during a scene.

ㅤ♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: smut, penetrative sex (readers anatomy not explicitly stated), rough sex, dom/sub dynamics (dom!bucky and sub!reader), safe word/signal used, un-negotiated choking, angst (hurt/comfort), slight sub drop and slight dom drop, Bucky carries reader (super solider strength), doll/sweetheart used for reader, aftercare

ㅤ♡ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,598

a/n: this is my first marvel fic I’ve ever finished :) I’ve been writing for another fandom on another account for almost a year now and was so focused on my wips for that one that I put all my marvel stuff on the back burner but a week ago I was suddenly struck with the motivation to finish this one! I hope you enjoy <3

Bucky needed to have control. You knew this, and welcomed it. After decades of being stripped of his agency and made to be a mindless follower he looked for that sense of authority over his own actions.

He never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. He made it clear that you were still calling the shots at the end of the day. He enjoyed the feeling of power that your pliancy provided, but it was your trust that mattered the most to him. He wanted to know that you trusted him to not really hurt you. That you didn’t see him as the monster everyone else saw.

You were more than willing to let him have that control, especially with how much consideration Bucky put into making you comfortable. It was a new dynamic to you, having never been one to explore the world of domination before. So you took it slow. Establishing boundaries, discussing scenes thoroughly, and establishing a safe word system for the both of you.

You found the stop light system worked best. Red to stop, yellow to slow down or check in, and green to go. There was even a system if you couldn’t speak. Three taps to stop, two to slow down, and one to go. And if for whatever reason you weren’t able to do either of those, Bucky was allowed to use your safe word to ensure your safety.

There were rules. Strict ones you and him were expected to abide by.

Despite all these safety precautions you never once had to use them, Bucky was always careful.

But sometimes, people make mistakes.

His burly body hovered above yours as his hips pounded into you at a steady pace. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing harshly at your soft flesh. Your legs were spread wide to accommodate his large body, thighs trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice. Your hands clutched at the sheets and sweat dripped down your bare chest, your eyes pressed shut as the pleasure overwhelmed you. You could feel it in every nerve of your body. Every small noise and softly spoken curse that left your mouth only served as more encouragement to him.

Bucky never talked much during sex. The more he got lost in the pleasure, the less he was likely to speak. But he wasn’t silent. You could hear every groan and moan resonating through his chest and occasionally hear his whispered praises.

So good for me.

So proud of you.

But something about tonight felt different. He had just come home from a rough mission. You could feel the anger steaming out of him as soon as he stepped through the door of your shared apartment. He needed a release, which you were more than happy to give him. Even when he warned you that he had no intentions of being gentle tonight you still obliged excitedly. Having not seen him for a few weeks you wanted nothing more than to just be his for a while.

He was not overstating himself when he said he would not be gentle tonight. Everything about him was rough. His touch, the strokes of his hips, his mouth on your skin. He took you like a depraved animal, and you welcomed it.

As he repeatedly hit that soft spot inside of you that made your nerves spark with electricity you felt his metal hand creeping up your stomach. The coldness of it contrasted against your hot skin making you shiver. Soon, it found its way around your neck and squeezed.

This was not normal. While Bucky had put his hand around your throat before, it was never the metal one and he certainly had never squeezed it so hard. He never choked you.

You found it hard to breathe, your eyes filling with tears. Your eyes popped open as you looked at Bucky panicked, hoping your gaze would get his attention. But his eyes were closed in lust. You couldn’t speak so you tapped his arm three times.

Stop.

He opened his eyes to see your scared expression and immediately stopped, pulling away from you completely and crawling to the other end of the bed from you.

You sat up, coughing as the air finally returned to your lungs. Bucky could only stare at you, chest heaving as eyes wide as he realized what he’d done.

He hurt you.

He hurt you.

He could have killed you.

When you finally looked at your boyfriend you saw how terrified he looked and how tears had begun to settle at his waterline.

“Bucky—“ you started to say.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Come here, please,” you reached your arms out to him but he only recoiled more. It felt like a stab to your heart, like he was rejecting you. For a moment you wondered if you should have safeworded. Did you disappoint him? Was he mad at you?

“I’m sorry,” he just kept repeating as the tears finally sprung free. You crawled over to him and he flinched as you did. You didn’t touch him, you weren’t sure if he was ready for that yet. But you really wanted him to touch you. Bucky however couldn’t take his eyes off your neck. Red marks were already starting to form and he felt the bile rise up in his throat at the sight of them.

“Bucky please,” you sniffled as your tears started to fall. “I’m sorry I stopped I—“

His head snapped up to look at you, brows furrowed in confusion before it hit him. You didn’t need space right now, you needed him.

He shushed you, pulling you into his arms as he gently held you in his arms and let you cry. “You did so good,” he tried to reassure you. “I’m sorry I went too far. You did nothing wrong, doll. You were so good, I’m so proud of you,” he kissed the top of your head. It settled you a little.

“Why didn’t you ask?” You questioned as you hugged your arms tightly around him.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. I’ll never do that again. I promise.”

“Are you mad I made you stop?”

“No, no baby no,” he shook his head fervently. “I’m mad at myself for hurting you. Are you mad at me?”

“No,” you replied quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Bucky placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. It made him sick to know that he did something you didn’t want. He could feel his heart start to splinter. Your trust was the most important thing in the world to him. He already thought he didn’t deserve you and now he was sure of it.

You recognized that look in his face, the look that said I’m a monster.

“I love you Bucky,” you said softly, kissing him tenderly. “You made a mistake but I forgive, because I love you.”

Bucky swallowed down the lump of emotion in his throat, nodding slowly.

“Can we take a bath?” You suggested.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “That sounds good.”

He carefully lifted you from the bed using his unnatural strength, carrying you to the bathroom with your head resting on his shoulder. Setting you on the closed toilet you started the bath, letting it fill and warm up. He kneeled down in front of you, hands gently resting on your thighs. You could see the far off look in his eyes, lost in his own self destructive thoughts.

“Hey,” you cooed gently, pushing his hair behind his ears. “Where’d you go? Stay with me.”

He nodded, kissing at your knee before putting his hand in the rub to test the temperature and adjusting it to be perfect for the both of you. You both sat there in silence as you waited for the tub to fill, his head in your lap as you stroked his hair tenderly. Once it was filled he helped you in, giving you his arms to balance on your shaky legs. He slid in after you, sitting between your legs and leaning back into you. You kissed him behind his ear, grinning when he shivered at your touch.

“I still enjoyed it,” you rubbed up and down his arms. “Before I safeworded it was good. You made me feel so good.”

“Did I scare you?” He whispered, afraid of the answer.

“A little,” you answered honestly. “But you stopped when I told you to.”

He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and kissing at your knuckles. “It won’t happen again, I promise.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “I think we should take a break from the harder stuff. Just for a little bit.”

You picked up your head at that, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he turned his head slightly to try and look at you although it was difficult in the position you were in. “I want you to be safe. If I can’t trust myself to keep you safe then…I think we should just stick to the basics. Just you and me.”

“Okay,” you kissed his cheek and he leaned back into you, soaking in your love and affection.

“I love you,” you whispered in his ear.

He smiled for the first time that night, “I love you too sweetheart.”

After your bath and your discussion you and Bucky both felt better about the situation and that night you fell asleep in each other's arms, only with the gentlest touches and whispered affections.

Thank you for reading! ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

I do not give permission to have my work copied, translated, reposted on any platform, or put into any Al programs. This is my only Marvel related blog aside from my library side blog @/howlinglibrary (Repost ≠ reblog)

Heart divider by @/adornedwithlight

Mdni/support dividers by me

[notyourhetloki]

From prompt list “I’m going to ruin you” after Ken has learned about bodily anatomy after his venture into the real world and he says this to fem reader (or gn if you prefer!), and decides it’s finally time to get your attention off that other Ken once and for all (which, of course, the reader has never cared about that “other Ken” anyway)

feel good (Ken x Reader)

Reader: gender neutral

/NSFW Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Heey! Thanks for requesting! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN like... you're a genius. Hope you like it! Prompt list mentioned: here's the link

Warnings: very smutty, dolls have genitals in this one, reader is implied to have a vagina but I don't describe it much (it's still gn!), possessive Ken, maybe a bit ooc, reader's virginity is mentioned.

Word Count: 1.1k

—

In his venture into the Real World, Ken learned very interesting things like the patriarchy, horses, and most importantly... sex.

See, the dolls in Barbieland knew they had genitals but it was never something they actually used often (if ever). They knew the basics of human anatomy but... nothing as throughout as what Ken had discovered.

Magazines, books, even videos of sex were readily available, all accessible to a very naive Ken who let everything get to his head.

Arriving home to Barbieland, Ken began getting these thoughts... if sex was so good after all, why not try it with you, the person he loved the most? The thoughts were pure enough at the beginning, but it all went to shit when he saw you...

Sitting next to Simu!Ken, you were laughing and chatting along. You both seemed to be having fun and Ken hated that, a gut-wrenching sensation of pure jealousy taking over his entire body.

Without thinking, Ken immediately walked over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and waving a sarcastic goodbye to the other Ken. You were surprised, but happy nonetheless. "Ken! You're back! I'm so happy you returned, love... But where are you taking me?"

He didn't answer, only marching towards your house until you were in your living room. Ken released the grip on your wrist and turned to face you.

He looked... different. He had a stern but mischievous look on his face, his pupils blown out making his baby blue eyes look darker, hair messy... He looked feral. "Ken..."

"I'm going to ruin you..." He whispered, taken by a mixture of jealousy and arousal. You looked so good... and you were his.

You didn't know what to make of his statement, feeling heat run through your body as he looked at you like a meal... he had never looked at you like that before.

"Sit down." Ken calmly said, and you promptly obliged. Sat on the sofa, he held your chin up so you looked at him as he said: "I'm going to make you feel so good... I promise."

Then, he kneeled. Moving his hands to your waistband, he looked up asking for permission and you agreed (even if a little confused).

Ken took your pants off, removing your underwear with it. You gasped a bit, not expecting any of it. His hands grazed on your thighs, opening them up so he could get a good look at you.

"Don't be shy, (Y/N)... you're so beautiful." Ken said before diving in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs, making you shiver. "K-Ken... what are-" Suddenly, you were cut out by a wave of pleasure that dominated your chore. He was kissing you... down there. And you didn't know why it felt this good.

Ken continued kissing, licking, and sucking... It was obviously his first time but he was doing his best, and he knew exactly where your most sensitive spot was... not neglecting it for a moment.

Sounds were coming out of your mouth and you honestly couldn't care about neighbors, moaning loudly when Ken hit that sweet spot... you felt out of orbit, taken completely by pleasure.

Tightness began building in your belly, like a bomb ready to explode, you were scared but nothing could take you out of this moment. "Ken, p-please... don't stop..."

And he didn't, working fiercely to make you orgasm... he wanted to taste you in his mouth, to be the first one to make you cum.

As you felt his lips and tongue moving, the tightness suddenly released. Waves of pleasure washed over you while you moaned his name. You felt dumb with the feeling, overwhelmed by so many sensations all at once.

Ken got up with a smile, feeling real proud of himself "See? I told you I would make you feel good! Now... it's my turn."

He took his pants off in one single swift motion, revealing his hard cock to you. Damn, he was hot... and you wanted to pleasure him too. "Ken... I-I want to learn how to make you feel good as well..."

His eyes grew wide, taken aback by your sudden confession (yes he was still insecure about you, even though you had just let him eat you out lol). "Oh, doll..." Ken softly said before kissing you, tender but slightly possessive... he was desperate at that point.

After the kiss, he carefully positioned you to kneel on the couch with your back facing him, legs spread slightly apart enough so he could slot himself in between. Ken massaged your back while teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock.

After you gave him consent, he slowly got inside you, careful to not hurt. It was quite off rhythm at first, Ken groaned while feeling so overwhelmed with you around him. But as soon as you both got comfortable... things escalated.

Ken fucked you quickly like an animal, completely desperate and needy. He was inside you, the first to ever be inside you! He felt possessive, moaning and groaning as he grabbed on your thighs and waist, pulling lightly on your hair as he cried into your ear: "You're mine, you're mine..."

"Ah, Ken! Ah..." You whined as his pace quickened even more, his dick inside you so deep hitting sweet spots you didn't even know you had, stretching you oh so deliciously.

"Yes! Please! Hmm... so good!" You hummed in approval, and the more praise you gave, the messier it got. Ken seemed to get off on your words, rolling his hips into you harder the more you spoke and driving you crazy. Eventually, you started moving your own hips to meet his thrusts, and that sight... he began getting erratic just from looking at you.

Not long after, Ken cummed inside you. Head tilted back, moaning your name and holding your waist for dear life. He never imagined it could be this good.

Plastic hearts racing, you both hugged each other as you laid on the sofa. Ken had his head on your chest, resting as he regained composure. "See? You're mine now..." He said between breaths.

"But, Ken... I've always been yours." You reassured him, running your fingers through his blonde hair. "You're the only one for me."

He turned his face upwards to look at you with teary eyes, admiring your face before reaching and kissing you desperately. Tears ran down his face as he kissed you, and you wiped them clean with your hands.

After Ken calmed down, you two sat side by side on the couch while you wondered: "What was that, by the way? The... the things you did, the way it made me feel..."

"Oh... yeah, there are a lot of things I'd like to show you! Things I learned in the Real World... that was one of them." Ken grinned while holding your hand, soothing you before continuing: "I've never done anything like it before, either... but I wanted to try it with you."

You couldn't help but smile, squeezing his hands while being so happy he trusted you like that. "Well, I'm glad that I'm yours, then..."

—

[silentmoths]

A lick and a promise

Its been *squints* Seven months since i cooked.

god damn its been seven whole ass months CRIES

Boothill got me so fkn good i cant even BEGIN to explain why he's such a comfort character for me ok he just IS.

Boothill x Reader (fem but it's really only mentioned in regards to anatomy.)

NSFW

Enemies to Lovers (kinda?), Smut, Hurt/comfort (kinda?), Oral sex, fingering, boothill is a gd kendoll (sorry boothill genatalia nation i just...wanted to write this like he was a ken doll LEAVE ME-)

7k words, NOT PROOFREAD

The first time you run into the Galaxy Ranger known as Boothill, you’re not sure what to make of him.

You were just an unsuspecting casualty, the pilot, nothing more. Flying ships for the IPC had to beat minimum wage, right? This was your first real gig with them, something a little more secure.

If you managed to make it off pier point without having a gun aimed at you that is.

A…cowboy. You’d heard about them, of course, but seeing one in this day and age was almost unheard of unless you travelled to planets far out in the west, ones untouched by the IPC and their ‘modernizations’.

Yet this cowboy also seemed to be touched by said modernizations, considering almost all of him was made of metal. Hell, all of him might be synthetic, nanotechnology was a terrifying thing, it could eat away the organic and replace it with the inorganic, mimicking skin and its blemishes, hair and all its different shades, like the curtain of black and white you see before you. 

“Han’s where I can fudgin’ see em.” He warns quietly, pistol pointed directly between your eyes. You do as he asks, why wouldn’t you? You weren’t being paid enough to put your life on the line for…whatever the hell you were carrying, you didn’t know, the IPC didn’t enforce ledger-checks- You tell the cowboy as much when he asks.

“Yeah that tracks.” he mutters with a roll of his visible eye. “Lookit’ you, still wet behind the darned ears.” 

“D-do I get a pardon i-if I told you it was my first day on the job?” you manage to squeak out, a terrible habit really, opening your mouth in times you should really stay silent…but the cowboy cracks a grin, a very sharp-toothed grin.

“Ah heck, really?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he spins his pistol in his hand and tucks it away into its holster. “Look I aint’ got no beef with ya. ya ‘ aint even wearin’ an IPC uniform-” “C-contract work.” You cut in with your explanation, only scolding yourself after the fact for, once again, interrupting the one with the gun. “The IPC really gettin that desperate, huh?” He snorts, his robotic fingers flexing as he himself goes to check the ledger, it was obvious he’d done this a few times…perhaps thats why the IPC had started hiring a third party, someone new for him to kill.

And yet he doesn’t kill you. 

He ties you up, sure, but he’s not an entire ass about it, he even apologises when he pulls the rope a little too tight and you squint.

“S’a formality.” He mumbles as he ties the knot tight “y’understand.”

“I guess…Just…thanks for not killing me I guess, Mr.Cowboy.” You shrug, perhaps you were still in a little bit of shock, perhaps you were coping with humour and ‘funny’ comments…perhaps, inside, you wanted to cry because of course of all the times to be held at gunpoint it was your first day working for the IPC.

“Name’s Boothill.” He corrects. Boothill, huh? You’d read about that…some eons old name for gunslinging cowboys who should have been dead. 

After you had been discovered, set free, and promptly fired, you decide to look up this ‘Boothill’ character; you find little other than his bounty…whoever he was, he kept himself pretty closed off…made sense for a galaxy ranger.

-

The second time you encounter Boothill, you’re working on a satellite array. It’s a shit job, it was freezing cold out here, and the welding masks given to you and your coworkers by your bosses were cheap, low quality, offering little protection from the welding torch and its bright, concentrated glare.

After your firing from pier point, no other freighting company was willing to take you on, and in a desperate attempt to get some damned food into your belly, you’d taken this job on some far out meteorite, repairing this shitty, run down satellite so the IPC could extend their reach further.

If the bosses had bothered to do a background check, they would have seen the unfortunate mark next to your name.

’Banned from all positions within IPC jurisdiction’ 

But considering the shit pay, shit hours, and shit accommodation? The old hand’s out here didn’t really care much for the ‘official’ rules; so long as you weren’t being actively hunted.

There was no sun out here, so every few hours there was a mandatory UV break, in which you all got to return to the little sleeping pods that were nothing but glorified transport containers with a wall sectioning off one third to make a bathroom; just to sit beneath a UV bulb. 

Whoever had lived in this one before you had stuck up a picture of a beach on the wall you had to stare at beneath the lamp, and faintly, you wonder if they ever made it there- or had they just keeled over dead from overwork? That seemed more likely, considering nothing had been cleaned out of your pod when you’d arrived. 

As you bask in your shitty, simulated sun, an explosion wracks the entire facility, sending you toppling to the floor as the world spins, cracks apart, opens like the gnashing teeth of some horrific space creature.

Was it a space creature? Had the meteorite collided with something it shouldn’t have? You didn’t want to find out, but you sure as fuck weren’t about to stay here and probably die once the oxygen field around the place sputtered out. The emergency guide tape’s you’d been forced to watch are nothing to help against the real thing, a real emergency. There are sirens blaring, the stark white light’s had all died, replaced by that infuriatingly anxiety inducing red as you struggle to put your space suit on. 

Just make it to a shuttle, they weren’t far, thats all you had to do.

It’s a mantra you tell yourself as the ceiling above you begins to crack and crumble, your time here was up. 

As you wrench open the door to your pod, you collide with someone. Considering you yourself looked like a glorified marshmallow in the emergency suit, you certainly weren't expecting the person you collided with to be as…hard as they were, solid like steel to the point you’re sent toppling back and unceremoniously onto your back, like a turtle.

A familiar pistol is pointed at your helmet.

No fucking way.

Boothill stands there, grin on his face and a gun in yours as he looks you up and down before howling with laughter. “Now what in the hay is that?” he wheezes as you struggle, only to stop when you push the visor of your helmet up, revealing a face he recalls. “No fudgin’ way-”

“You again!” You screech, flailing your limbs as you attempt to stand in this…ungainly suit. “What the fuck are you doing here now!?”

“I could ask you the same mother forkin’ question!” He barks back, yet despite it all, he withdraws the pistol and even shows some mercy, reaching down to pull you back onto your feet “the fork you doin here?” 

“Well, someone got me fired from my last job!” you snark at him “and now it looks like I'm out of another, what did you do!?” “Blew up tha’ satellite!” He chuckles as if he’d just won at an arcade game and not caused millions of credits in damages. You open your mouth to…you don’t even know- Shout? Scold a wanted criminal? Beg for mercy? When the world tilts again, the sound of rock cracking and metal creaking fills your senses; resulting in you simply screaming out of fear. 

This was it, this was where you died. On a rock, in the middle of space, blown to smithereens by a cowboy. Except, the cowboy reaches down, and for a moment you think he’s going to kill you, just to stop the screaming. Instead, he grabs your arm and yanks you upright without a word, tugging you along behind him like you weighed nothing in this stupid marshmallow safety suit. (perhaps, to a cyborg, you didn’t weigh anything.)

Boothill cares little for the smoke and the flames, and you are just a leaf in his wind, guided through it all with scary precision until there is suddenly nothing and you realise what he’d just done.

This fucking cowboy galaxy ranger had just leaped off of the edge of the meteorite, dragging you along with him. 

Correction; this is how you die, once you left the gravitational field, you’d just be stuck…floating in the void of space forever…no one would ever find your body-

Before your thought can finish, you crash into something hard, a ship, you realise, you had fallen into the open loading hatch of a ship, unlike boothill who landed on his feet, you’re simply a pile on the floor.

You hear the cowboy laugh as he turns to look at you, and you thank the fact that you’re face down from keeping your likely red, teary face from his scrutiny. 

“Y’alright down there?” He asks.

“Peachy.” you mutter back, your muscles ached, but the adrenaline was already beginning to wane, suddenly the suit felt…heavy, impossibly heavy as you listen to the sound of the ship’s hatch closing. “Why’d you save me?”

Boothill thinks on it for a moment. Why had he saved you? It wasn’t really his M.O, saving people, especially when they worked for the IPC…he supposes a part of him felt a little bad… you hadn’t been working for them directly last time…and because of his stunt, you’d lost that job and had resorted to working for them in this backwater shithole of an array. 

“Eh, Y’aint worth killin.” he responds after a moment “S’not like you’re the mother fudger I’m looking for anyways.” 

Something about the way he says it…stings. Not worth killing? 

Slowly you sit up, a terribly ungraceful affair in this stupid space suit as you pull the helmet off entirely and toss it to the floor, there was no point hiding the tears anymore. 

“Wh- hey now! What’s got in yer’ boot?” Boothill balks at your teary face “what’s tha’ matter?”

You hate how stupid you must look, crying, red in the face…embarrassing really. But after the scare you’d just had, you don’t have the forwithall to keep your composure anymore.

“Whats the matter?” you mutter, staring at the cold, metal floor of the ship “what’s the matter is that you have single handedly managed to lose me not one, but TWO JOBS!” 

You don’t mean to shout, really, you should be thanking him for saving your life. 

“I’m BANNED from working for the IPC!” you cry “I wasn’t even meant to be working here! But where else am I meant to go!? EVERY job is somehow overseen by some division of the IPC, I can’t work anywhere else! Now you say I’m not even worth killing!?”

Boothill stares, the gears turning as he simply takes the emotional vitriol thrown his way. It had been…a long time since he’d found himself faced with this kind of problem.

“Aw shirt…” he mutters, realising his words had only worsened the situation. He takes a knee, pulling his hat off as he watches, he sees the way you’re shaking, your fingers flexing; he might be ‘old fashioned’, but he could recognize a panic attack. “C’mere, let's get this great forkin marshmallow suit off ya.” 

You don’t even have the faculties to push him away as cold, robotic fingers begin tugging away at the velcro, the zippers and the straps. Breathing was getting harder, everything ached. Only once the galaxy ranger had pulled you free of the confines of that damned suit could you expand your chest properly. Too small, you realised, the suit you’d been given was way too small.

“Easy, easy, easy.” Boothill mutters as he sits you down “jus’ breathe.” 

Easy for him to say, did a cybernetic cowboy even need to breathe?

He could see the struggle, but what the hell was he meant to do about it? It wasn’t wrong..the IPC had their fingers in so many pies… finding a job untouched by them? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack. 

It wasn’t often Boothill felt…guilty. But somehow…you’d managed it.

“Aw c’mon, don’t gimme the waterworks.” he sighs “Look…ah’ll admit I forked up your job prospects, I’ll fudgin’ take that responsibility… will ya at least lemme see if I can help?”

“What can you do!?” You cry at him “If the IPC catches wind that I’ve somehow been caught up with you again-”

“Lemme take ya to a planet the IPC don’t care ‘bout.” He cuts in suddenly, an idea forming in his mind. “Been there plenty, they’re good folk, they’ll help ya.. Ya just…gotta trust me.” A planet untouched by the IPC? That seemed like a pipe dream…

“Impossible.” you mutter “any planet the IPC finds, it conquers.”

Boothill grins, that same toothy grin you remember from your first encounter with him. “I know, right? But this one? This one’s special.”

Eyama II was a small planet with little in the way of resources the IPC wanted or needed, a dwarf planet no less, nothing but a speck of dust floating through their air filters. It was a self-sufficient, homely type place…if he was being honest with himself, it’s where he would want to retire if he ever saw his goal through…living the simple life he used to know before the IPC had ripped it from him. 

He knows it’s not the most…elegant solution, but he knew some fine folk there, some fine folk who might just be willing to help the poor outcast he’d created. -

It’s a long trip. It had to be if it was out of the IPC’s gaze…but that did mean a long trip with Boothill.

In a tiny two person at most ship.

You didn’t really know what to expect, if he’d just tie you up and put you in the corner…but as it turns out…he’s somewhat hospitable… ok more than somewhat.

After you’d calmed enough to be reasoned with, he’d handed you a bottle of nondescript nature. Without much thinking, you’d taken a swig, eyes widening at the distinctly alcoholic taste. It wasn't anything strong like whiskey, but it was enough of a shock.

“Malt juice.” He clarifies as he takes a seat at the helm, setting the warp drive “figured it’d help calm ya nerves.” You blink down at the bottle before slowly taking another, more temperate sip.

It…wasn’t bad…actually it was pretty good. It burned your throat just enough to keep you in the present.

You both talk…small things, you ask him how he knew of this planet, and tells you about all the planets he’d visited that weren’t under the IPC’s thumb, how all of them were nice, simple places.

He tells you that he thinks you’d like Eymaya II, he thinks everyone would like Eymaya II. It had rolling hills and green valley’s. The people were mostly farmers, ranchers, common folk just going through the motions to get by, but not in the same nihilistic sort of way most did. Good, honest living, as he says.

Part of you wonders if there ever was a time this ranger worked a good honest life, if this whole…cowboy thing was a facade, or if it was real, remnants of a past he couldn’t return to. You’re not sure if it’s his conversation, the malt juice, or both, but you eventually begin to open up, about your home life, about your terrible habit of cutting into conversations when you were nervous, all of it. 

And when you begin to fall asleep? Your head nodding slowly where you sat, you feel a cold, metal hand rest on your shoulder.

“C’mon, you need ta’ rest.” He tells you, guiding you to the cot that looked seldom, if at all used.

For a wanted criminal who had put you out of two jobs and nearly killed you both times…he was surprisingly kind.

-

He wasn’t wrong about this planet. It was beautiful, the air was fresher than you could ever recall, living in the city.

Apparently, the look on your face says as much. Boothill chuckles, tilting his head softly as he watches you take it all in. “Told ya ye’d like it.” He hums, something in his mechanical chest whirring with..pride perhaps? Satisfaction? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing a face that, so far, all he’d seen from was fear and upset finally show…wonder…it felt good. He wanted to see it more, perhaps even a smile one day. 

He takes you to the inn, sets you up with Jodie, an elderly woman who had been around the block quite a few times, she didn’t put up with Boothill’s antics, more like…a curmudgeonly aunt at first as she barks at him for not calling in sooner, only for it all to melt away into an almost familial warmth as the cowboy explains himself, explains you.

“now child I know you did not lose this poor thing not one but TWO jobs!” She scolds, hands on her hips. 

There is a lick of satisfaction as you watch boothill shrink beneath the innkeeper’s rage. 

“Donchu’ worry hon, we’ll getcha set up here, somewhere this block for brains can’t accidentally getchu fired. Only thing that’ll do that around here is laziness…you aint lazy, are you?” she asks, turning to you and squinting her beady, aged eyes at you, making you stiffen up as well.

“N-no ma'am!” you bark instantly “I-I promise to work hard and earn my keep!”

This atleast, seems to settle her some, and before you know it, you have a hot meal and an ice cold drink in front of you, and you want to cry again.

You actually feel…somewhat sad when boothill has to leave…anxiety twisting in your gut… would you really be okay here? Would you survive? 

But he pats you on the shoulder and grins, and something about it is…comforting.

Something about it made you want to try.

-

It’s five years until you see Boothill again.

Jodie had grown too old to continue running the inn, and somehow, against all odds, it was you who had taken over. The entire place was yours, and you were happy. 

Not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how you ended up here, but then you recall, the enigmatic cyborg cowboy who had hijacked your ship, and then blown up a satellite array.

Somehow, your outlook on him had turned from disdain to…a strange sort of affection. The frigid anger had melted away, and what replaced it was a sense of…thankfullnes for what he’d done for you. Working here, away from the almost all-encompassing reach of the IPC had opened your eyes to just how…corporate everything felt, and how it so desperately wasn't you. 

It’s a late evening, you’re closing up for the night, the bar had emptied of all it’s usual late-staying regulars, and those who had rooms rented for the evening had already retired. 

You’re polishing a few glasses when the door swings open.

“Well now, there’s a face I ain’t seen in a forkin long time.” 

The voice is familiar, and has you turning, a small smile tugging at your lip. A mixture of feelings racing through your chest.

“Well well, come to let me collect your bounty, Sir?” you snicker, placing the glass you’d just polished beneath the malt juice tap to pour him a glass.

Boothill laughs, sauntering in with the swagger you remember as he drops into the stool closest to you. “How’ve you been, Boothill?” you ask him, setting the glass in front of him and waving away his credits. You owed him one drink, atleast, “what’ve you been up to?”

The galaxy ranger snorts, throwing some of his long hair over his shoulder “How long ya’ got there, sweetheart? S’gonna be a long story.”

“I own the place now, and we’re closed, so all the time in the world.” you hum, deciding to pour yourself a glass as well after locking the door. “Shoot, really? What happened to ol’ jodie?” He asks, voice tinged with legitimate concern as you drop into the barstool beside him.

“She’s fine, she’s fine..just old is all.” You assure him, finding a little comfort in the relief that washes over his features.

“Ah, fork don't scare a guy like that.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair “thought Jodie had up n’ left us.”

“Nah, she’s got a while on her yet.” you snort, taking a sip of your drink.

The conversations run long into the night, catching up, listening to the thing’s he’d done, places he’d seen…IPC operations he’d torn apart at the seams. He listens to you too, as you tell him about how things have been here, catching him up on anyone he asked about. It was like talking to an old friend. You weren't sure…what boothill was to you…a friend? An acquaintance? It was…complicated. 

More malt juice enters your systems, you ask if it actually has an affect on him.

“You know…being a cyborg and all..” you mumble, feeling a distinct warm dusting to your cheeks as the malt settles. 

Instead of responding with words, the galaxy ranger reaches out and takes your hand into his. He feels…

Warm.

“You tell me, darlin.” He chuckles after a moment, watching you though half-lidded eyes. You barely even notice, more curious about how the alcohol affected him. Without even thinking, you run your fingers along his exposed arm; you weren’t going crazy, he was warm, almost humanly so. 

Your fingers continue to wander without much thought until they brush along his jawline; the sudden transition from steel to skin is what finally snaps you out of your own thoughts, pulling back with a squeak.

“O-Oh aeons I’m sorry!” you fluster at his face, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly ajar. “I-I got carried away I’m-”

His hand reaches out again, clasping yours and pulling it back towards his face as he rests his cheek into your palm.

“Don't.” He murmurs, softly, softer than you’d heard him before. “Keep goin…please.”

A realisation settles across your mind.

“You…you can’t feel most touch…can you?” 

He doesn't look you in the eye, but he does sigh, only burying closer to your warm palm, worn after years of working hard…but still human.

“S’not that I can’t feel…I can…but..s’mtimes it’s so forkin dull I might as well not…but..my face is…”

“One of the few places you can feel.” You finish the sentence for him, feeling a pang of sympathy. You didn’t know how long Boothill had been like this, but you could wager long enough that he was more desperate for a kind touch than he probably even realised.

“Yeh…” he mutters, his lips turning down into a frown “sorry…ah know it’s probably-”

“Shut up.” you mutter, turning to face him fully, your other hand coming to rest on the other cheek as you watch this man, this gunslinging galaxy ranger, falter. His eyes widen before he shuts them entirely, leaning into it, starved of this type of affection.

“F’ya don’t stop this bullshirt m’gonna think you might have some feelin’s for me, darlin’..”

You didn’t know if thats what it was…but you didn’t want to stop either, a part of you wanting to sate you own selfish curiosity…another part wanting to do this for him.

“It must be a lonely existence, living like you do.” the murmur leaves your lips before you even notice you’d spoken out loud, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. Boothill stares at you in silence for a long moment, his gaze calculating, probing. 

“I thought ya’ hated my forkin guts…” He mutters.

“Perhaps once, for a little bit, I did.” You admit “But then you brought me here, and I’ve never been happier..”

A beat passes, then another, and another. Boothill stares at you, the feel of your hands on his face something he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

And then he leans forward, lips crash together and the taste of Malt juice and perhaps a little bit of oil is on your tongue.

You don’t pull back, if anything, you lean into it shamelessly. 

Robotic hands grip your waist as your own finally shift from his face to wrap around his shoulders. At some point his hat goes flying off elsewhere, but neither of you care; too strung tight, too wound up to care.

His teeth are as sharp as they look, but he’s careful with them as he nips at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the little beat of blood he manages to draw.

“Shirt-” He mutters against your lips, his eyes shut tight, you can hear his inner mechanics whirring, like a mechanical heart about to rabbit from his chest “fudge, if you don’t stop me now darlin I’m gonna keep taking-”

“Then take.” you mutter back at him, tangling your hands into his surprisingly silky hair and yanking. “Take what you want.”

“Oh trust me, I would but..” Boothill’s growl trails off, and for a moment he looks…embarrassed. You can’t for the life of you figure out why until he steps closer, your knee brushing between his legs- oh.

“Flat as a forkin’ brass tack.” he mumbles. 

You’re not sure why, it might just be the curse of your horrible humour, but your attempt at not giggling only sets you off into laughter that you attempt to muffle into his shoulder.

“Ey, watchu laughin at?” you expect boothill to be…mad at your outburst, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, feel the tremble of his own laughter “t’aint funny.”

“It kinda is.” you snicker out, pulling back to look him in the face. He looks a little sheepish, but thankfully, mostly just amused. “It’s okay…we’ll figure something out..”

His toothy grin settles back into a dangerous little smirk as the moment passes again, the kind of smirk that makes your belly twist a little. “Oh yeah, I got some other tricks up my sleeves.” 

Without much more to say, you find yourself being lifted, thrown over the cowboy’s shoulder- as you open your mouth to say something, you’re interrupted with a harsh slap to your ass, resulting in nothing but a squeak.

“Where’s yer room?” He snickers as you glare at him. 

You consider not telling him, being a brat, but the charming smile he returns to you is… yeah it does something stupid that goes right to your crotch. 

“Upstairs…first door on the left.” you mutter, flustering at the way his grin widens. 

If you didn’t know better you’d almost describe Boothill as practically skipping up the stairs, the angle for you however was a little trepidatious, and you find yourself clinging to him for a little more stability, right up until he carefully tosses you down onto the plush of your bed, landing with a soft thud.

He’s back on you, and your hands are back on him without him needing to ask; you can see the relief it brings, the way his eyelids flutter and his brow pinches as your fingers glide across his cheek, down his chest and along his arms, still warm, you note…

His lips return too, his own hands untucking your shirt just to get under it, metal fingers gliding over the smooth of your belly, up the your sides as he groans into your mouth. You wonder how much he can actually feel, if it was still dull, or if the alcohol had heightened his mechanical touch sensors somehow. You didn’t care, he looked happy, legitimately happy, like a dog being scratched behind the ears as you indulge him. 

His lips move from yours and he begins to nip and taste elsewhere, his nose brushing against your own as he leans in, nuzzling at your cheek, nipping at your jaw, revelling in the little sounds of pleasure he pulls out of you, especially when his wandering hands wrap behind your back and find the clasp of your bra, it comes undone with a surprisingly expert tug and you moan softly at it. 

(Who could blame you? You’d been wearing the damn thing all day.) 

You wished there was something you could do for him, something to pleasure him like he was doing for you, but you forced yourself to be content with touching him, running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging at the soft strands; running your thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the shells of his ears.

Boothill however, seemed just as hellbent on touching you, but he had far more room to move, to explore, to play. 

Metal thumbs find your nipples, embarrassingly hard and sensitive after being trapped in the confines of your bra all day, and you moan as he rolls them both, back and forth in a slow, methodical rhythm that leaves your breath light, and your stomach twisting in knots. 

Pointed teeth find your throat, nibbling and worshipping every inch of skin they could catch. You’d have to wear a scarf tomorrow if he kept that up, lest the regulars at the bar notice the strange bruising… but you don’t stop him; you were all in on…whatever this was now. 

A metal hand pulls away long enough to pop the buttons on your shirt, leaving the plane of your torso open and exposed to his gaze, nothing short of hungry as he stares down at you. 

“Fudge…” he mutters, his voice husky “That’s a nice view…” 

“Tease.” you huff.

“Tease? Oh ah’ll show you tease.” He snickers, his mouth returning to your skin, working lower, biting at the junction of neck and shoulder, nibbling along your collarbone before the cowboy shifts further, his tongue darting out to lap at one nipple whilst a hand works the other.

You gasp and moan, a hand quickly coming to muffle your cries, cheeks alight with embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Boothill only chuckles, his eyes trained to your face as he lays, settling between your legs as he rests atop you to continue his work, but at least he doesnt pull your hand away, too engrossed on what he could feel opposed to what he could see and hear. 

He switches breasts while his free hand trails down, over the soft plane of your belly and to your belt, unbuckling it with ease and sending the strap of leather flying across the room before those fingers return, popping the button of your work jeans and dragging the fly down. You groan softly in appreciation at the relief it brings, only to feel those metal fingers working the waistband down.

Just what was he planning? you wonder internally as he gives your nipple one last, harsh suck before releasing it, making you keen beneath your hand. 

“Feelin good, darlin?” he whispers. He sure sounded like he was feeling good as he nuzzles against your skin, nipping at your stomach and trailing lower, hands gripping at your jeans, pulling them and your underwear away in one swoop, leaving you open, exposed, and embarrassingly wet. “Y’sure look it..” he adds with a low whistle “aint that a sight.”

“B-boothill-” You mumble, an attempt at closing your legs out of embarrassment only sandwiching his head betwixt your thighs. He grins at you; it’s such an endearingly handsome thing, it makes you feel like this wasn’t a first time thing between you both, like he knew you, like he was comfortable with you, which only added to the heat in your belly.

“Aw don’t go gettin all fudgin’ coy on me now.” he snickers “After all those drinks’ ya’ gave me downstairs, I’m still kinda thirsty.” 

His metal hands part your measly human thighs with shameful ease as he leans in close; you squeal when you feel his hot tongue lave down your inner thigh, warm breath so achingly close to your cunt it was maddening.

But it seemed Boothill was just as desperate as you were, his mouth attaching to your cunt after only a moment, taking in your squeal as his teeth gently roll your clit, the added danger only serving to make you wetter. 

“F-fuck! Boothill-!” you moan out, forsaking keeping yourself silent as your own hands scramble across the sheets, searching for something, anything to ground yourself as his tongue laps at your folds with fever; they eventually find and settle in his hair before giving it a tug.

Boothill groans, the sting is only arbitrary, but he loves it, he loves being able to feel something. The warm plush of your thighs around his ears, the heat of your cunt as he sucks on your clit, only made sweeter by your cries. He’d missed this, he’d missed this a lot..

“Y’aint seen nothin’ yet, darlin.” He growls low and loving against your thigh in the brief moment of reprieve he gives you. You stare down at him with hooded eyes,your knees already trembling from his vicious onslaught; he nips the soft, sensitive flesh of your thigh with a cheeky smirk, holding up a pair of fingers, watching your face as he slowly drags them through your wet folds, collecting your slick; you gulp. “Like a’ said, I got a few fun lil’ tricks up my sleeves.” His mouth returns, lapping and pulling you right back into the overwhelming, wonderful pleasure as a slick metal finger circles your entrance, slow, methodical, torturous. You nearly sob with relief when he finally presses the digit inside, the metal actually making it easier. He hums his approval at how easily his finger is sucked in, pumping it slowly in and out, in and out; taking things at his pace- perfect.

After a little while, you feel that finger beginning to probe, to prod and search for your G-spot, and before long he finds it, signalled by a loud gasp and a sharp tug at his hair, only pulling his mouth closer, his tongue working away at your clit like he wasn’t driving you absolutely mad with pleasure.

Once he’d found the spot, he retreats, slowly adding the second finger and beginning the cycle again, stretching you, filling you stupidly well; it was an absolute tragedy that he didn’t have a dick…at this point you were so stupidly horny, you would have climbed on top of him just for a chance to ride him.

(somewhere in the back of your mind, the saying ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ reverberates) 

As you’re right at the height, right at the edge, he suddenly stops, his fingers cease their movements and he pulls his head away, resting his chin on your naval as he stares up at you with such a stupidly loving look that it makes your heart twist; his chin was absolutely drenched in your slick, but he looked so very content.

But you weren’t.

“B-boothillllll-” you whimper, tugging at his hair again, why had he stopped!? Now of all times? You could feel his metal fingers pressed against your G-spot, but unmoving, they did little to pleasure you. You clench around them, but that too, yields little results.

“Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to see your face when I did it.” He chuckles, his smile twitching up in the corner.

“D-do whAT-” your question cuts off abruptly when the fingers inside you suddenly burst to life with vibrations, the strength of which you’d never experienced before. Your body coils and you nearly scream as he rams those fingers into your G-spot, stars exploding behind your eyes whilst pleasure cuts through your belly like glass. 

“That.” He hums, satisfied as he returns that sinful mouth of his to your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. His fingers were harsh and rough, crooking into your G-spot one second, and then splaying out the next, dragging rough and harsh against your walls; his tongue however was soft, gentle, slowly and carefully rolling circles around your poor little nub. You were going to go crazy, he was going to drive you insane and you were absolutely letting him. Your body reacts on its own, thighs squeezing hard around his head, spine arched upward; your hips prevented from bucking thanks to one of his arms, wrapped solidly around your thigh and holding you down to the sheets, forcing you to lay there and take it.

You knew the walls here were decently soundproof, but even you began to question if they could muffle out your cries, made worse when Boothill suddenly sits up, pulling you up along with him, practically folding you in half as he continues to feast on your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in centuries, his vibrating fingers plunging somehow deeper.

At first you struggle for air with the new position, your knees almost at your chest, but then he switches the angle of his fingers and aeons-, you didn’t think it could get worse than this. But the pleasure this new angle brings, it’s new, its terrifying and you don’t quite know how to articulate that to the galaxy ranger causing it all. Your hands scramble clawing and tugging at any part of him you could get ahold of, his name falling from your lips along with incoherent babble, desperation and worry all balling into one feeling you couldn’t describe as he continues to piston those fingers into you, hitting your G-spot with such accuracy, the flame in your gut turning from a high heat to a near-volcanic overload as you jerk and struggle.

The final straw is when you crack open an eye, catching sight of him, staring back at you with such…love, such unbridled affection.

You scream his name as you cum, harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Your faintly feel yourself make an absolute mess of his face, arms, your back and the sheets below you as your world turns white.

–

A soft, damp cloth carefully rubbing over your skin slowly pulls you back into reality, rousing you from the soft and gauzy subspace of post-orgasmic bliss. You try to shift, to sit up…to…something- but a hand carefully manoeuvres you to lay back down on a thankfully, dry patch of sheets.

“Easy, darlin’” Boothill’s familiar southern drawl hushes you down “Nearly done.”

You crack an eye to find him carefully cleaning you off with said damp towel. Methodical but careful. You’re trembling from the exertion, but boothill looks absolutely fine, the bastard. 

In fact, he looks better than fine. A smile plastered on his stupid face as he works away, wiping sweat and other…fluids, off of you. 

When he was done with that, he wraps you in a clean sheet and lifts you, sitting you down on the trunk at the end of your bed, just so he could change the set you’d obliterated with your unexpectedly rough orgasm. You sit there, watching him, half asleep and pleasantly dozy before he pulls you back into bed, pulling you into his side. A glass of water is pressed against your lips as he encourages a few sips into you. 

You spend the night sleeping with him curled around you; the quiet whirr of his mechanical body providing a pleasing, soft white noise while hands stroke through your hair.

–

“Do you have to go so soon?” You ask as he reaches for his hat.

He’d been here a week, and it had been…for lack of a better word; wonderful. 

But all good things had to come to an end you supposed. The look on his face was enough to tell you what you didn’t want to hear.

“I gotta. I ain’t done yet.” He tells you quietly, despite this, he holds out a hand, a silent request for you to walk with him…the inn and the bar would be fine for a little while.

“I’d ask ya t’come with me, but that’d be the biggest forkin mistake I could ever make.” the cowboy admits. He wanted you to, he’d never felt so content as he had in this week, but bringing you meant putting you in danger…aeons know he’d done that enough already.

“Will you…at least come and visit me?” 

Boothill snorts as they meander their way towards his ship “O’course I will.”

“How often?”

“S’often as I forkin can.” 

You both stop beside the ship, it had a few more dings and dents than you remember, but it was still in surprisingly good condition.

“Well…” you mumble “at least you know you’ll always have a room at the inn while I still run it.”

“Y’mean yer’ room?” He snickers. “I forkin hope you intend on running the place as long as possible, I pulled in a good favor from jodie to get ya yer’ start ‘ere.”

You smile at him. Boothill thanks every aeon in existence that his cybernetic eyes had a camera function, so he could save that face and look back on it when he was drifting through the universe.

Slowly, he pulls his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as he leans down to press his lips to yours, one last time for the road.

“I’ll be back as soon and as often as I forkin can…y’hear?” He murmurs, you nod; fighting away the sting behind your eyes as you step back.

“I hear…and…Boothill?” you ask as he turns around to step onto his ship, looking at you over his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[bananami]

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

characters: dabi x reader (x hawks sort of)

synopsis: you've never "finished" before and apparently dabi is the first person you thought to ask to help rectify that issue. somehow hawks gets roped into all of this, and not even in the way he wishes. poor hawks. maybe next time bby. (2k)

warnings: 18+/mdni, MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU'RE NOT CAUGHT UP ON THE LAST SEASON, anyways onto the good stuff - fingering, masturbation, a LOT of dirty talk, dabi says fuck a lot, implied threesome, recording and technically sexting, praise kink AND degradation kink, dabi is a little mean at certain points, somewhat implied yandere on hawks and dabi's end if you squint, reader is referred to with feminine pronouns and terms, reader is implied to have female anatomy

a/n: this took on a whole ass life of it's own. seriously hawks was never going to be a part of this but then I thought hmmm that could work. SERIOUSLY SPOILERS AFTER THIS. i am not responsible for what you read. you are responsible for the media that you choose to consume. i've given ample warnings on content and spoilers. if you're sticking around, HAVE FUN. and no i did not proof read this... xxx

"You want me to do what?"

"I'm not gonna say it again."

"Then I'm not gonna teach you."

"Touya!" You whined. "C'mon, I never ask you for anything- don't give me that look, I don't! I've never enjoyed it, I'm not asking you to show me, just maybe give me some pointers."

Dabi opens his phone to scroll through anything he can to distract himself from the effects of the conversation. It's bad enough hearing you talk about sex, let alone having to make eye contact with you at the same time. "Doll, I hate to break it to you, but if I'm being honest, it's probably got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that you tend to date morons who think that if they grope around enough the clit will magically appear."

You scrunched your nose. "That was crass."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He pokes at your forehead, knocking you off kilter and falling back onto the other side of the couch, before going back to scrolling through his phone. "You want me to help you get off and you think me mentioning the clit is crass? Make it make sense."

You wished he wouldn't word it that way, even if it technically was exactly what you were asking from him. "Like I said, I'm not asking you to show me how to do anything, I just a little advice to make it better."

"It takes two to tango, baby. You being good at it doesn't mean they will be. You're putting it all on yourself and you can't do that."

"Ok..." you pause for a moment, gathering the courage to even whisper the next few words that cross your lips, "what about when I do it myself?"

That makes Dabi pause, his attention drawn immediately away from his phone and back onto you. "What do you mean when you do it yourself?"

You huff, getting slightly irritated with his line of questioning, as though it isn't obvious what you're saying. "Ok look, we've been friends for a long time and there's no one else that I trust enough to have this conversation with." Your fingers together as you attempt to keep eye contact with him while speaking. "I have a hard time...finishing."

"Why?" There it was. No judgment, no laughing, no making you feel uncomfortable or awkward. Dabi was straightforward and you knew that no matter what you asked, he would find a way to accommodate for you.

"I don't know," you admit, "it's like I get right there and think it's gonna happen and then it just doesn't."

Dabi is silent for a long time. He looks lost in his head, leaving you unsure on what to say. When he finally speaks it leaves you with a bit of relief. Because he again sounds genuinely curious. Although a little strained.

Unbeknownst to you, that may be because of the raging hard on Dabi is trying to keep from getting any worse or more noticeable.

"What are you using?"

"I've tried literally everything. I even bought one of those cute little vibrators from that place you and Keigo always talk about."

Fuck. That's the last thing he needed to hear. Wait until he told Hawks. He'd probably kick Dabi's ass for not calling him immediately. He'd probably do a lot worse after finding out what Dabi was about to offer without shooting the fucker an invite.

"Maybe you just need someone to walk you through it."

"What, like...like you do it for me."

"Like I'll tell you what to do, and if that still doesn't work then we can improvise."

You sit stock still, wondering what this would mean for your friendship with Dabi if you were to go through with it. But he was offering, he wouldn't do that if he thought it would be a bad idea. Would he?

No.

No, you trusted Dabi. That's why you came to him for this. And if he thought this was a good idea, then it had to be.

So you shook your head. You swore his eyes turned five shades darker.

"Lay down."

You do as your told almost immediately, and it doesn't go without acknowledgement.

"Good girl, I'm not gonna touch you just yet, I'm just gonna help you out of these. That alright, baby?" And you shake your head without any hesitation this time.

Dabi's finger skim the top of your jeans until they find the button to undo them. He pulls them do slowly, your panties with them, until they're completely off your legs. He drops your jeans to the floor but your eyes widen just a bit when he brings your panties to his nose and he takes a deep breathe. The embarrassment hits you full force. He slips them into his pocket, and you just know you're not getting them back.

"Open those legs and let me see you, doll." Clearly you don't move fast enough, because Dabi grabs both of your ankles to pull them apart, setting one leg up over the top of the couch, and the other bent in the opposite direction, your foot and ankle laid against his lap.

"Show me what you usually do, pretty girl. Put on a show for me."

You don't know how you can be both so embarrassed and confident at the same time, but it's something about his words that make you feel so much at once. Your fingers begin their usual dance against your skin, and it does nothing but spur him on.

"There you go, pretty baby just needs some guidance doesn't she? Fucking rub your clit for me, just how you like it, show me."

Your fingers rub against your clit, and it makes your body hot having his eyes right on your most sensitive parts. You can feel it building inside you, heightening when his eyes find yours and he smirks. "What do you want? Need me to tell you how pretty that pussy is? You want some praise, you little slut? A little degradation? You like when I call you my good little slut? I bet you fucking do. Shove two fingers into the pussy, let me see you take them."

Your head is fuzzy as you do what he says. Your fingers aren't very long, but they get enough of the job done. Dabi's words do more of the work than anything.

"Fuck, listen to the wet cunt, pull your fingers out, rub your clit again. That's right, baby, make a mess for me."

You keep at it for a while, but it's not until you get to the closest you've ever been to cumming that you realize it's not gonna work. You can feel it, and you want it so bad you're practically crying, but there's just something missing.

Dabi catches on quickly. "No go, baby?" He teases you. "You need to cum so bad, don't you?" You can't do anything but keep moving your fingers and shaking your head.

He lets you go a little longer, savoring the tears glistening in your eyes. And then he's pulling at your wrist, yanking your hand up toward his face, and wrapping his lips around your fingers. The same two that were just inside you.

The audible gasp that falls from your mouth does nothing to quell the growing excitement inside him. He's licking your fingers clean, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls them from his mouth, his eyes heavy with lust.

"Any of those shitty little boyfriends get a taste straight from the source?" You look at him with confusion written all over your face, and he rolls his eyes. "Your pussy, any of them ever eat it? Or did they skip the foreplay? The look on your face is telling me all I need to know. Their loss, doll. Taste so fucking good, could spend hours with my tongue inside you."

It's his fingers ghosting over your clit that makes you almost choke. You have to shove your hand against your mouth to keep from being too loud.

"Don't you fucking dare," Dabi's voice is practically seething, "let me hear every fucking noise I make come from those lips. Made me wait this fucking long, you owe me that."

Your hand is forcibly removed from your hand and pinned at your side.

"Keep it there." He commands. And then two of his fingers are slipping inside of you. "Such a fucking cocktease, you know that? Have me and Keigo practically drooling over you and you wanna choose a bunch of fuckboys instead? They can't even get you off. Now you're coming to me wanting to cum. Fuck you. Beg."

"Please, please, please," you don't hesitate. And all of a sudden all you can think about is Keigo. And Dabi. And Keigo and Dabi. "Need to, please, please-"

"Fuck, you're squeezing. So fucking tight. What are you thinking about, huh? Is it because I mentioned Keigo." You can't help it. "There you go again, baby, does he make you wet too? I bet you wish he was here to help too."

It's a fleeting thought, but Dabi can't help himself. Hawks would be pissed if he missed this. He tries facetime, but no answer. Sorry fuck. The next best thing will have to do.

Dabi pulls up his camera and hits record at the same time that his fingers curl and he snaps, bordering on too much and not enough.

"That's right, want it dripping all down my hand. Cry for me, little mouse, let me see those tears." His thumb plays with your clit as he focuses the camera right on the place where you and him meet. "Can't tell you how many times him and I have had to jack each other off to the thought of your pussy."

You choke on your tears, "Touya-"

"Need you to come all over my fingers, baby. Show Keigo how good I'm making you feel. You'll let him help out next time, won't you?" You don't understand why, but your brain is so foggy, and you nod vigorously, maybe to agree, maybe to clear your head, it didn't really matter at this point. "Yeah? You'll let him eat that little pussy, right? He's been dying for a taste. Is that what you want, you want us to share you?"

The thought of them sharing you is what does it. Dabi swears he's never heard a more beautiful noise than the sounds you make when you orgasm. He doesn't let up, his fingers still relentless inside you. You almost panic when you begin to feel the next wave pass over you, similar but different from the last one.

"He can lick your pretty cunt while I pound into you, hmm. Or maybe I'll let him have your pussy first since he missed out today, so long as I get to take your ass while he does. Or you think you can squeeze the both of us inside this tight pussy? A little effort, but I bet we can make it work, doll." The chuckle that leaves him is almost sadistic, and all of a sudden, you feel your body snap.

"Look how she squirts," you hear him saying, "pussy's a fucking dream." He lands a slap against it that makes you flinch from how oversensitive you feel, and hits send on the video.

The next couple of minutes are spent in silence, except for Dabi, who is whispering things like did so good, perfect for both of us, such a good girl.

Dabi makes sure your cleaned, having to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom, where he sits you against the countertop and begins running a rag over the inside of your thighs. It's distracting enough that you don't hear the vibration of his phone against the granite counter.

His smirk only grows at the message that lights across the screen.

Hawks: dICK

Hawks: im gonna kick your ass

Hawks: i'll be right over

[ronearoundblindly]

Dirty Water

Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader

Prompt from this dirty ask game with our pairing from the Sun, Salt, and Shield series.

Summary: After a very long (but unofficial) courtship, where Steve is too shy to bring up your anatomy and his compatibility, a cultural misinterpretation quite literally sinks his resolve.

Warnings for smut (I'm gonna have to call this what it is and just say it's monster-f**king, or the one where Steeb gets maybe-CNC-boinked by a 'monster.' Sorry, babes. Ro's dipped a toe into the darkside for a smidge.) MINORS DNI. Poorly--or rather, not--edited and I have no idea the word count...

Steve swallows harshly and tries not to nervously splash his feet in the pool.

"What?" he chokes out.

He can't think of anything more articulate to say, not that it would matter when so much is lost in translation.

All you did was ask about the singing outside the doors of your 'room'--the retrofitted gym pool at the Avengers compound, the one is the basement without windows for your highly sensitive eyes--but he...could never have predicted why you were so curious.

"They're just enjoying themselves," he'd chuckled, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Do you sing?"

The look on your face, jaw slack and head tilting in contemplation, it should have warned him. You unfurled from your relaxed posture, the stance where your arms cross behind your back and fit atop the swell of your--he'd say tail, but it's more like your ass--rump, the rest of your body bent in a curve until your fin nearly touches the surface, and inched closer to his feet in the deep end.

"Yessssss," you hissed slowly through three rows of sharp teeth, crawling up his legs, out of the water, dripping over his lap as you braced large, webbed hands on either side of his hips.

Even in the very low light of damp room, he could see the lavender of your stare drop to his crotch.

"You sing too?"

Steve's an idiot. He didn't understand yet, so that dumbass actually began humming 'You Are My Sunshine' because nothing else occurred to him.

Then he noticed your tail glowing beneath the scales.

Then he realized you were pressing yourself to his legs.

Aaaand then Steve Rogers looked down your body to witness his knee disappearing in a spongy spot where the armoring swelled apart.

Oh god.

"What?" he now asks like an frightened teen seeing boobs for the first time.

"I make you sing?" Your broad green lips turn up in a smile. "Show me."

Suddenly, Steve's forgotten more english than you've learned. "Huh?"

Your flowing, textured hair, shapely even out of the water, sways when you cock your head to the side, looking through your lashes at him.

"How Stevie sing?"

He shivers for the first time in the cool water and lets an involuntary grunt leave his lips.

He's tried to stop himself from imagining your body and how it works to...ya know, and how he might...oh god, he's going to hell, but apparently, you've already been imagining that humans are either masturbating or fucking outside your door at all hours all the time--

--and oh shit, that means you sing as a part of sex.

He turns his head to the almost black ceiling and fails to think of anything else as the light from your body reflects in waves on every wall. He whimpers when he feels a ripple of muscle through the wet cotton of his jeans.

"Doll make Stevie sing?" Your voice is hoarse, and just as quickly as you say that by his throat, you flip back into the water. You can only breathe air for so long without hurting your throat and lungs.

He thinks he's off the hook, praying the tightness in his pants dissipates faster than they'll take to dry, but he lowers his head to find you peeking from the water, intent as ever on learning his ways.

He should be ashamed, so very fucking ashamed, of how badly he wants to take himself out of his pants and watch the wonder of those pretty eyes as he comes at the thought of you, but Steve's drowning in the hope that he can have you. It's been so long that he's wanted this, even in the most innocent ways.

Your final plea bubbles to the surface.

"Show?"

Steve inhales sharply, running a hand through his hair and licking his lips.

This is wrong, he thinks. You should not be doing this.

Yet he does it anyway because he wants to; he wants to so badly.

He sits up straight at the edge of the concrete, popping the button of his jeans and aches as he lowers the zipper. He can't meet your eye while he pulls out his semi-hard cock and fists it harshly.

You're so long that even looking away leaves your shimmering tail in sight, and he thinks he sees you rattle in excitement. It makes him shiver again, and the vibration shakes the moan escaping his tight chest.

Yikes, it does sound a bit like he's singing...

What the hell are you even doing?

Of course, he knows he's touching himself and he knows well enough how to do that, but he shouldn't be doing this in front of you, much less enjoying it. His blood is running so hot beneath his skin, though, the chilly pool feels soothing over his shins where he rolled up his pants (to no avail).

The heat floods his veins and mind to the point rational thought quiets, and Steve's eyes slither up your demure form.

Your eyes get wider and wider the more noise he makes, and his rampant imagination feeds off the sight of that gap in your scales visible as it undulates in the refraction beneath his feet.

He leans his head back and closes his own eyes at just the wrong moment.

Mid-whine, he misses the splashing sound that would have warned him you were coming, and instead Steve is pummeled by the end of your tail and topples into the pool, shocked and sputtering salty water until his body is pinned to the flat of the concrete wall he used to be perch on.

As he scrambles to toss his arms over the ledge, he feels claws dragging his jeans farther down his legs, and the fabric hangs like an anchor while the silky-slick webbing of your fingers glides up and down his thighs.

Then your tongue runs the length of his cock, making Steve moan embarrassingly loud and thrust his hips forward. If he weren't in the water, he'd be a puddle.

Pleasure races up and down his spine, fighting for dominance over the feeling of cold when he slips from the ledge and submerges briefly.

He barely registers the loss of your tongue and your quick lap of swimming before you're backing into him again.

It's on your ass, too, the soft entrance like you rubbed against his knee, but he could not have imagined what it could do--what you could do--how you could manipulate your muscles inside your tail.

He has no brainpower left to describe it. Steve just lets go, trusting your body to hold his weight as one hand grips the mossy softness of your waist and the other hand spreads over your lower back. Out of instinct, he tries to get leverage to push himself in and out of you, but that's useless.

There's a strong ripple of muscle that pulls him in, and in, and in, delicately tight on his sensitive cock and wide enough to slowly suck his balls into the massaging cavern.

Steve's eyes roll far into his head. He's going to pass out if this keeps up.

"Doll," he gasps, but it's too quiet in the slosh of the water. "Please, I'm--"

A clear, high note crescendos from the deep below, something disturbingly pure and paralyzing, and Steve can't move. He can only feel and experience a siren's song in action.

His body twitches violently before his cum is milked sensually, desperately, methodically from his cradled and ravaged pelvis, and never in Steve's long life has he ever been so fucking spent.

He whimpers when your cunt releases him, only faintly aware that he's propped on your back by his elbows as you swim to the shallow end and let him 'stand' on his shaky legs.

The screeching hinge of the door startles him.

"Cap," the junior agent yells over your hiss from the bright light spraying in, "everything okay? I heard..."

Yeah, I couldn't describe it either, Steve thinks.

He spits water from his mouth. "Fine," he huffs back, "we were...singing, and I fell in."

"Oh. Alright. Sorry to disturb you, Miss G." The man nods his apology at your hand-covered eyes and leaves.

Steve can't help but laugh like an insane person, laying to properly float in the water, uncaring what you're up to until he gently hits the stairs leading out of the pool.

Your head rises out of the water hopefully, and he cups your cheeks, still chuckling. He has zero words to describe...anything at the moment, but he can show you a human tradition of affection in return.

Shifting as easily as a feather in the water, he pulls you two together and sweetly presses his salmon lips to your seaweed pout, letting your long locs fall over his own shoulders.

Soon, he's gasping for air again, yet just before you dunk below the surface, you grin and coo at him.

"Stevie sings lovely."

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

what...the hell have i done. *hits post before final two braincells protest*

@fandom-has-taken-me-hostage @leah2901 @blogbog710 @supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @jamneuromain

[sunarc]

BOYS WHO LOVE TO EAT YOU OUT

CW: squirting, oral, AFAB anatomy, no femme pronouns

Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi loves the way you taste. He groans as he licks long strips up and down your heated core. His cock gets achingly hard watching the way you tremble and claw at his arms that lock you into place against his face. He has your legs draped over his shoulders while he slurps sloppily. You can barely contain yourself. Your spewing nonsense words mixed with iwaizumi’s name. He loves the way you sound, barely able to form a proper sentence. 

“Taste so fucking good”

He catches his breath as he stares mesmerized by the way your pussy glistens. Iwaizumi’s chin is dripping in your juices and you can't help but cover your face and look away in embarrassment. He presses wet kisses against your inner thigh.

“You don’t understand what you do to me” 

His voice sounds almost desperate as he mumbles the words against your skin. He needs this , he needs to get another taste. He dips his head back in for more. He slides his tongue across your entrance causing you to shiver. Your back arches off the bed as your hands grip the sheets. The pleasure is almost too much. Your whines fill the room as he dives deeper in dipping his tongue in and out of your hole,teasing you with each movement. 

“That’s it baby just like that '' Iwaizumi can’t help the way he ruts his cock up against the bed. Something about your voice is like music to his ears. His moans vibrate against your core. You grind down onto his tongue, smothering your juices on his face. Iwaizumi pulls your body impossibly closer, securing his spot between your legs. He lets out a low groan that sends butterflies to your tummy.

“Fuck, I want you to cum on my face, doll” his breath feels warm against your clit.”Go ahead, don’t be shy… your not going anywhere until these sheets are soaked.”

Bokuto

Bokuto can’t get enough of you. The way your body twitches as he flicks his tongue against your clit leaves his cock leaking with precum. You look so beautiful like this. This is Bokuto’s favorite way to see you. Sweat drips down the side of your face as you grind down harder onto his tongue. He loves it when you sit on his face. He knows you worry that he can’t breathe but, it really doesn’t matter, he could do this for hours. Watching the way you struggle to get yourself off on his tongue, begging him to fuck that pretty hole of yours. You’ll have to wait just a little longer. Bokuto wants to see how pretty you look cumming on his tongue first. Then he’ll bury his cock in you, just like you were begging him to. You look down to see Bokuto staring at you with those big owl-like eyes. He’s in a trance watching you. You slow down caught up in his stare but suddenly, feel a large hand come down on your thigh. You jolt at the sudden action. 

“Who said you could stop” his voice leaves your body trembling. You stutter out an apology before rocking your hips back and forth. Bokuto lets out a soft hum. There’s something about you that he can never get enough of. Maybe it’s the way you whimper his name or the way you squirm your body whenever Bokuto’s tongue licks between your wet folds. Bokuto is desperate to have his cock sliding in and out of your warm hole. His hips rut up into the air as he presses his face deeper into your soaking folds. You let out a soft scream as you feel yourself getting closer. Bokuto knows you're close, his tongue movements are relentless. You feel your orgasm flush over you like a wave. There’s nothing but the sounds of your voice mumbling Bokuto’s name on repeat and the slurping Bokuto makes as he swallows all the cum you give him. Your body feels weak as Bokuto flips you over on your back and spreads your legs for him to see you in all your glory. He strokes his cock and you can see him shiver at the touch. He stares at you hungrily. 

“Gonna fuck you nice and good baby.” Bokuto’s lust filled eyes never leave your body. “ Want you to cum like that on my cock and make sure you scream my name when you do this time.”

[wherenymphsroam]

take me one more time

⟡ -- he saw himself in you. he took you under his wing. over time, he’s found his blade dulls in comparison to the wounds you inflict on yourself.

w/c: 2k

warnings: reader is a third ghost face alongside stu and billy in this plot line, billy calls reader a girl (silly girl) but no gendered anatomy is assigned to reader, reader is implied to have problems with people pleasing and self harm through putting themselves in purposefully harmful situations, reader and biilly are implied to have an on and off fwb agreement, cheating if you wanna think about billy still being with Sidney at this point in time but she’s not outright mentioned, reader has grown dependent on billy, he’s acting like a sweetheart but he’s still in fact a manipulative psycho!

a/n: I TOLD YOU GUYS HE PUT A WORM IN MY BRAIN !!!! anyways. fair warning — this is a sad, old wip I spruced life back into. not beta read because it’s 5am and I will die like a man. I am shamefully putting this out as I side eye comms I haven’t gotten to,,,,

music suggestion: sextape (deftones), exit music (radiohead), bleed for me - acoustic (johnny goth)

The bangs pounding against the door of the warehouse are almost drowned out by the sharp tinging of rain pelting the roof above, but Billy hears it loud and clear. It’s a foggy, dark November night, thoroughly sodden by a once in a blue moon rainstorm that’s settled over Woodsboro. Any other time, he’d scoff at the idea of getting up, but he knows that rhythm. Only you knock like that. With a growl under his breath, he pulls himself out of the armchair to cross the room, swiftly pulling the side door open.

He pauses, lips pursed, dark eyes taking in your drenched form; over your trembling lips and up to your dead gaze, all the way down to the water that had sodden your sneakers. He only gives one shake of his head before he sighs, stepping aside to allow you to slip past him. You choose to ignore how your sneakers squish under the weight of each of your foot falls, too numb to pay much mind to your waterlogged shoes as you stumble into the secret warehouse Billy coveted for… well, no one, really. Only you and Stu knew of this place, tucked away deep into his property. Surely, the police would have a field day with your little unofficial killers den. 

Closing the door behind you, he turns and slouches against the heavy metal with crossed arms, his eyes hard as they bore into your frame where you stand stationary, faced away from him. You know what he’s gonna say. You didn’t particularly want to hear it tonight. 

“And… let me guess. It’s right about now that I get to tell you I told you so, hm?”

“Shut up Billy. Don’t wanna hear it right now.” You grit out, stiff as a board, stubborn as a child in how you refuse to face him. With swift, soggy steps, you trudge dirt and mud across the cement beneath your feet as you all but stomp towards the set up he has in the middle of the room. 

It’s nothing too fancy, but not completely trash either. A large, fancy looking rug covered the floor, likely a piece Stu had snagged from his place. A simple, king sized mattress sat in the middle of the warehouse, a few pillows and blankets scattered about the area. A ornate, wooden table on one end of the rug, with papers and bottles strewn about the place, right next to a rather beat up armchair. Obviously lived in, giving away just how much time Billy likely spent in here, out here as opposed to back at the house with his father. Not that you could blame him. His dad had been a mean drunk ever since his mom skipped town, as if it weren’t his fault he couldn’t resist a bit of Prescott pussy. 

Billy watches as you throw yourself rather gracelessly into the armchair, strewn like that of a neglected doll over the arm when you slump your weight against it. There’s no way that position can be comfortable. He simply exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring as he stalks towards your limp form.

“It’s good I don’t care then, ‘cause ya gonna hear it anyways.” 

You only roll your eyes, despite the fact that you know he can’t see your face from where he stands with his hands leaning his body weight against the back of the chair. Lips itching to form a retort, you decide against it. You’re too tired tonight. It’s best to just let him lecture you and get this over with. 

“You’re so stupid. Why do you always go for the ones you’re too good for? Huh?” 

That catches your attention. The hell does he mean by ‘too good’ for? Your taste isn’t the best, and that’s hard enough to admit in of itself, sure. But he’s going a little far to say all that.

“I’m tired of this happening. You going after the rat face of the week and then ending up on my doorstep when they screw you over like they always do because-“ 

He lunges over the back of the ratty armchair, arms looking like that of spider surrounding its latest catch as he presses his nose into your hair, mumbling, “-you’re too fuckin’ nice, ain’t cha? Too sweet to stand up for y’self whenever they make you uncomfortable, whenever their hands get a little too friendly, huh?” 

Your breath catches in your throat. Was it from the feeling of his breath ghosting across the top of your ear? Or was it the malice in his voice that has your skin crawling with an unknown heat? You’ve only ever heard him talk like this to soon-to-be victims over phone calls. Not that you had paid specific attention to that aspect of your little trio’s killings. It was just… fun, listening to him taunt people. He was real good at it. Got you specifically riled up just in time to strike your set victim. 

His voice aside… He’s only telling you what you already know, so you surprise yourself when you flinch against his words. Closing your eyes, you press yourself deeper into the puffy, scratchy arm of the chair, as if it could grant you the mercy of not having to watch the consequences of your actions unfurl before you. With a groan, you bury your face into the bend of your own arm, pretending the chill permeating through your soaked clothes wasn’t bothering you. Maybe ‘cause you were never gonna admit to yourself. It sounds worse when he says it out loud, you conclude. You know he’s right, and that twists your gut to stew hotter in your own guilt. 

“Shut the fuck up, Billy.” you mutter, eyes heavy when they flutter open to stare straight ahead into the dim emptiness of the warehouse. You fixate on a specific steel barrel about 10 feet away — it has a bunch of scribbled papers strewn across the top and around it. They were likely a mix of drawn up past and current plans for victims — Addresses, phone duplicates, individuals schedules and whereabouts. Stu had no sense of organization when it came to his blueprints, but they got the job done. For as goofy as the guy was, he had a mean IQ. The brain of a killer. 

Billy’s lips quirk, satisfied with the reaction he’s pulled from you. You both know he’s fucking with you, giving into his sadistic tendencies just for one minute. Even so, it doesn’t prevent his words from stinging like salt in your open wounds. 

He sighs, long and drawn out as his head hangs, forehead pressing against your shoulder as his blunt nails dig into the armchair’s cushioned back. The sound of a button getting ripped from the material catches your ears, and you almost shrink away as he murmurs into your skin.

“I do hate seeing you like this. I really do. Why do you have to be such a pretty little masochist? Hm?” 

That almost has you chuckling. Ironic, right? A cold blooded killer — masochist by day, sadist by night. You know you can’t answer that question for yourself, let alone to him. Only the wisp of a shaky breath leaves your mouth as you allow yourself to fall back against the couch, looking up at him when his eyes come into your view. 

“I don’t know how to live without pain.” 

It’s simple. It’s like a drug at this point – like your own personal taste of hell every time you let yourself love someone. Just like how Billy attracts people and can’t shake them, you can’t seem to shake off those that feed on you and leave you an empty shell. And when you aren’t allowing some to crawl  their way into your chest, feasting on your still beating heart and sucking up your warmth like hungry cockroaches, you sink your knife into others by night. Hunger really is a son of a bitch in that way, always sitting and waiting for you to get ripped apart by someone else. Watching and waiting for it to eat away your empathy, your resilience, your patience, until you take it upon yourself to tear into them. 

Your statement hangs thick in the air as he gazes down at you. He knows exactly what you mean, doesn’t even look at you like you’re some freak who hates their life like others would. Instead, he smiles like that of a little boy as he leans down, slotting his chapped lips against yours. He isn’t gentle, not in the slightest, not waiting even a second to let you register what he was doing before his teeth are sinking into your bottom lip, greedy in how they drag and pull against your pliant skin. 

You accept his ministrations, a whine crawling into the back of your throat with how you have to crane your neck further in order to really reciprocate. However, he’s pulling away before you can attempt to adjust yourself against the couch, resting his forearms next to where your head lies craned against the back of the couch. 

“You’re so sweet,” he murmurs matter of factly. You only huff in response, turning your head away from his burning gaze and damned tuggable hair, opting to stare up at the ceiling. 

“And you’re not good for me. Can’t keep crawling back to you like this, Billy.” 

He chuckles as he circles the armchair, heavy boots echoing his footsteps around you before they come to a stop before you. He looks down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, down his nose like he’s debating his next action. With a shake of his head, he only hums before reaching for your hands, drawing you up and out of the chair to stand against him. Like this, chest to chest, you finally get close enough to see it. The pity in his gaze, the undercurrent of… empathy that swirls in his honeyed eyes. You had grown accustomed to being looked at like this; like a kicked puppy he just had to entertain, had to hold close. He saw himself in you. And so, he treated you sweetly, softly. Gentle in how he collects you in his arms, dragging steps back to pull you across the rug. 

“You always say that,” he hums against your ear as he backtracks the both of you towards the bed. “And you’ll say that again next time.” 

He’s right. He always is. 

So you follow him. You indulge him, rather. Silent when he unzips and peels your sodden hoodie off your shoulders, down your arms to throw it somewhere into the darkness of the room. Still as a frozen deer when he reaches down to deftly pull your laces loose, swiftly tugging your soaked shoes off your feet, kicking them aside. Soft, pliant when he pops the button of your jeans and lowers the fly, carefully peeling the tacky denim down your cool thighs. He even goes so far as to smooth his warm palms down the goose flesh of them, tapping your right thigh to signal for you to step out of your jeans. A small gesture, but meaningful nonetheless, considering this was Billy you were dealing with. He’s silent as he lowers the both of you, down onto the end of the bed.  

You’re only shivering for a few more moments, just until he pulls the both of you up the length of the expansive bed, settling the heavy duvet over your bare legs. He had half a mind to strip you of your shirt, but you looked pretty like that. It was all in the simplicity of that v neck shirt, the hem falling just above the band of your panties. You were pretty like a doll should be. He couldn’t help but wonder for just a moment if your insides were just as beautiful. 

“Silly girl. You need me,” He coos as his arm draws up to drape against your back. His nimble fingers follow the dip of your spine all the way down to the lower hem of your shirt,  then back up to lightly drag his nails against the base of your scalp, right where he knows you like it. His eyes crinkle with amusement as he watches goosebumps rise on your skin, the hair on your nape standing on end. When was the last time someone held you so delicately? You should be held like this every night, he concludes then. 

“Don’t try and act like you don’t ever again.” 

thank you for reading! I have emergency commissions open, so if you enjoyed this piece, please consider taking a look at my menu or rb'ing :^)

[its-dari]

Beware Baby Bunny

Hard Yandere! Akatsuki - Types & Danger Levels

I know it says "hard yan". But that's because my preferred type are soft yans... This is literally the worst extreme, especially in terms of character.

~ Dari

Deidara

Type: Manipulative & Dependent

Danger Level: 3/10

Not particularly manipulative towards you, more so towards any possible suitors. But if he is favored by you, he will milk it to the best he can. This especially shows when he assesses that he cannot physically win over them and resorts to more underhanded methods. A yandere that needs you like he needs air and all his purpose feels like it's gone when he is no longer with you. Like he'd die without you.

Creepy Behaviors Include: Heavy breathing upon close contact. Occasional thievery of your items. Manipulative behaviors towards potential suitors. Occasionally Munchausen.

Hidan

Type: Violent & Delusional

Danger Level: 9.5/10

Intensely wrapped in the bloody thoughts of Jashin, he believes that you were gifted to him for his labors to his god. There is nothing but blood in his brain when it comes to you, obsessively and sexually wrapping himself in how you look drenched in it. He is willing to harm both you and anyone that gets in his way of having you. It is only a side comment that makes him conceal his feelings and behavior.

Creepy Behaviors Include: Idealization. Erotomania. Stealing of bloodied sanitation products. Leering.

Hoshigaki Kisame

Type: Protective & Possessive

Danger Level: 7/10

Immensely blood thirsty but unlikely to violently react towards rivals unless they were similar. Views your opinion as important and so is careful in how he presents himself in front of you. If pushed, he could react violently but is a relatively docile type. Very loyal and pretty liberal in committing bloody acts if he knows he won't be caught. Depends on how well you handle these tendencies.

Creepy Behaviors Include: Keeping things you make for him long beyond it's tenure; including food.

Kakuzu

Type: Possessive Provider

Danger Level: 4/10

Doesn't try and especially hide his fondness and generally is one of the more normal types. While people presumably think he'd view the object of his affections as a posession, it's his experience and older age that allowed this more mellowed look. While his rank and level of violence of a criminal is still high. There is still somewhat of a levelheaded way he goes about dealing with rivals. He also won't really attempt to force you into anything.

Creepy Behaviors Include: Stealing Minimal Items. Financial Coercion.

Sasori

Type: Apathetic, Obsessive & Possessive

Danger Level: 10/10

Lucid and fully aware his behavior is unhealthy and will keep it to himself. The most dangerous in the sense that he cares little for you, your feelings, or your choices. He's also the master of acting like there's nothing wrong with him. The only one with a full 10 in all categories.

Obsessed with the idea of memorializing you forever by turning you into a puppet regardless of your wishes. Watches you often and at length to be able to gauge your anatomy and measurements perfectly. Has likely made a doll version of you and prepared clothes for a potential wedding... If given a chance, will make a different human puppet if the victim is close enough to your likeness.

Creepy Behaviors Include: Staring(often withoit blinking). Watching you sleep if given chance. Idealization. Objectification.

Uchiha Itachi

Type: Protective & Passive

Danger Level: 2/10

Genuinely the least selfish of the bunch, while he has an agenda in flirting with you and wanting to have you. He simply can go on without having you in a romantic sense, content fo have you in his life and just show you that you matter a lot to him. Will set aside his feelings in favor of yours and let you be happy with someone else. The closest to genuinely loving you. Though can show aggression/violence towards those that mean you harm or disrespect your memory.

Creepy Behaviors Include: Stealing Items. Replicating them with sharigan if possible.

Non-Yans / Yan Leashes:

Pein / Nagato

Honestly, someone come help this man. It is their respect for him that they're not acting out. He probably has a soft spot of some sort for you otherwise, he would consider murdering you for causing unrest among the others.

Konan

She's probably used to the creepy leering of men, and is immensely uncomfortable by the knowledge of this behavior. It is her connection with Pein and respect for her that keep them from behaving like insane people. Well, except Hidan, but that's par for the course.

Uchiha Obito / Tobi

He knows EVERYTHING and WOW, he thought he was bad. He takes advantage of his position as "innocent" Tobi to go around and mess with them, just for his amusement... It is his own fondness for you as a member that makes sure they keep from anything too extreme.

Zetsu

If the cannibal himself is grossed out by them, there's a problem. He is the one to report to the others as he can phase through walls and such... Keeps them docile for the sake of that they might know he knows everything.

[mechagender]

do you have tips on drawing robots/mecha?

augh I really do wish i could have like a really good and thought out tutorial but honestly I don't even know how I learned WAUUHH ummm I think if I had any tips that I personally had to share which isnt a lot 1. try focusing on bolder geometric shapes!! it REALLY helps to sell the mechanical look. organic things tend to have a lot of soft irregular shapes, so deviating from that helps makes things look inorganic. also, try and picture things as a 3d model in your mind if you can! (if you can't, that's alright! people's imaginations work differently, some people can picture things, some people can't. that's just what I personally do)

2. exaggerate your parts and proportions to your hearts content!! robots and mecha are an excuse to really go crazy with things!! while something like drawing humans would typically have sort of a 'set' anatomy and proportions (varying on art style of course) mecha isn't really bound by any set of 'rules' especially if you don't care about being realistic!! (which i dont HEHE) 3. study and try and learn from some of the details of other mecha art. watch/play/consume media that focuses on mecha/robots like gundam or things like transformers, etc. other things that are good to study is real machinery, dolls, and real organic anatomy in general. i'd probably recommend searching some terms like "how to draw mecha/robots" on here and seeing what other tips more experienced artists have 4. PRACTICE!!!!!!! this should be like the tip ever for anything at all. im only able to draw like i am now because i spent a good few years drawing almost nothing but transformers which sort of forced me to learn. don't stop trying even when things look 'wrong' because fucking up is how you get better at Not fucking up

here's a snippet of like some of the first mecha art i can find in my files from back in 2021, you can tell i wasnt really confident in my shapes at all at the time, but keeping at it gave me the ability to improve (obviously none of these are concrete rules pls dont take them as such!!! i also HEAVILY encourage finding lessons elsewhere because beyond generic primary/middle school art classes i have never taken any sort of art education ever and I have no idea what im talking about. i'm entirely self taught, and i've also rarely done serious studies on my own. bad, i know WAUUUGH.)

[hwadess]

[00:28] stoner!yunho (s)

this is actually my first fic ever on this account and i haven’t really kept up with writing since like 2019??? lol… here goes nothing! i did not fully proof read this so if there are any errors pls let me know 😭 also, i feel like this goes without saying but obviously i know weed is NOT legal in south korea, but this is a work of fiction and i like having fun. i am 100% projecting. yep! anyways,

warnings are underneath the cut!

MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

remember, tumblr’s algorithm works off of reblogs. i love and appreciate likes but please reblog my work as well if you like it ♡ much love!

warnings: reader has female anatomy and is called gendered terms associated primarily with females, !!!usage of marijuana!!!, dom!yunho, some light stoner terms, reader tells yunho to stop but doesnt mean it, size kink, use of nicknames/pet names/titles (baby girl, tiny, angel, doll, good girl, yuyu, sir), obv strong language, unprotected sex (please always stay safe during sex!), creampie, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), degradation, humiliation. if i forgot any i will add!

word count: idk i edited it in app and lost track (jk update its 3,479!

your friend group was definitely a crazy one, hosting escapades you could never imagine by yourself, making so many memories. all of your firsts were with your friends by your side. hell, you would be with your friends every single second of every day if you could, but today when yunho came home talking about how he had someone in the group find some really good weed, you knew you had to try it alone with him. even though you knew you’d definitely hear from wooyoung about it later. yunho told you that he was sworn to that it would create one of the best highs you had ever faced.

god, you were hoping that his friend was right. you knew how you were when you smoked, you were excited. of course, the two of you could not waste such an opportunity, right?

your head is filled with warmth as your body started feeling floaty, the harsh coughing from the first hit of this third blunt really helping the feeling set in. the drug began to hit you even harder at this point, turning your entire world into a dizzy, yet comfortable daze. you look over at yunho, eyes half lidded from the effects of the bud, bright with the reflection of the led lights that outlined the corners of your bedroom walls.

you took a second to absorb every single detail of his appearance, his hoodie somehow big on him, making you wonder how you’d look wearing it, remembering how big he is already. he was wearing sweatpants, the string on it tightened just enough to hold them loosely around his hips. the weed had the gears in your mind grinding even harder than usual, he looked fucking amazing.

you don’t know if it was the overwhelming urge to be close to him, or what got into you, but before you knew it, your leg was thrown over his lap, and you were there, straddling him on the sofa in the bedroom. taken back by this a bit, yunho breathlessly laughs before cocking a brow at you, head lolling back lazily along the back of the couch from laughing. you take your almost completely cashed blunt, placing it in the ashtray beside the two of you, immediately bringing light kisses to the part of his neck thats barely exposed by the oversized hoodie. fuck, he was so perfect.

that’s all it took, his body began to react what seemed almost instantaneously, his hips subconsciously pressing against you, starting the process of getting hard, as he grabbed your waist for leverage.

“ooh what’s this, pretty girl,” he cooed out, pushing your hair back out of your face, exposing all of your features even more to him. you were so pretty, “some weed got your little pussy wet?”

“no, you did,” you barely managed, the breath barely leaving your lungs. he smirked at you before tapping your side, automatically remembering that’s his sign for wanting you to raise your arms to sneak off your shirt.

“well, i’d better take care of this little problem i created, don’t you think doll?” with large yet gentle hands, he eased you off his lap on the sofa to take you to the opposite side of the room to his bed.

the room was coated in a haze of smoke as the bed creaked ever so quietly underneath the weight of you two. the harsh smell of this particular leaf clung to your senses but you were used to it, the smell didn’t bother you as much as you thought. even if you weren’t used to it, you weren’t sure how much you could even pay attention to the smell of anything when your tall boyfriend was pulling off his sweatpants to reveal his semi-hardened cock. your mind was full, the thoughts mixing in your head, enough to make you fucking dizzy. the effects of what you smoked had long since taken over, you were feeling so much.

“you wanted to start this, so go ahead.” he said, moving back onto the bed with you and then laying down against the bed, head on the pillows, gesturing down with his chin.

you knew better than to act stupid. your whole body shuddered when you looked up at him and saw him wearing the cockiest smirk you swear you had ever seen in your life. he was gonna be the death of you.

you crawled on top of him, taking the same position you had on the bedroom sofa, but this time you took his thick cock in your hand, positioning the tip of him at your entrance.

“wait, angel” he interjected, grabbing your wrist to make you release his cock. your swear your need was about to boil over any second now, mind burning with the thought of how close he was to filling your needy hole up.

“do you think you can take me like this?” he asked, looking at how big his cock looked next to your cunt. you stared back at him, blinking blearily, you were overtaken with confusion and the empty feeling in your chest having the pleasure of his cock that was so tantalizingly close ripped away from you, so hungry for his cock buried in you.

“just a couple more things, doll,” yunho adjusted in his spot, putting pillows underneath the back of his head, so he was laying up a bit more. he brought one large hand to your waist to stabilize you so you stayed still on your knees above him while his other hand slid between your thighs, spreading your folds to run his finger down to find your wet entrance. when he felt the arousal seeping from you just by gliding his fingers through your slit, he hummed softly, sinking two digits inside you which drew a pathetic cry from you.

his fingers were coated in your wetness as he pulled them out, but he still took a moment to tease you by brushing the pads of his fingers along your clit and dip his fingers in just an inch or so a few times until he was satisfied enough with how worked up you were. it wasn’t until yunho retrieved it that you realized he had his unfinished blunt tucked behind his ear, licking off his fingers coated with your juices before grabbing the lighter on the nightstand and lighting it, unexpectedly blowing all the smoke right into your face, making your eyes burn with tears. if they were from the smoke, or from need, that you weren’t too sure of.

“alright pretty baby, you should sink down for me,” he ashed his blunt before looking back at you, cocking an eyebrow at you, making you shiver.

his eyes were on your shaky ones as you eagerly positioned him at your entrance. the moan you let out as every single inch of thick cock grazed against against your walls menacingly slow was absolutely sinful. the neediness in your moan made yunho’s cock twitch inside you as you slowly worked him deeper into your wet cunt.

“now that’s a good girl, huh?,” yunho groaned out, one arm beneath his head on the pillow and the other gripping your waist. between his lips was the blunt, smoke going up in a helix from the burning tip and the corner of his mouth as he panted, feeling your tight walls squeeze him, filling up your little stretched out cunt.

your body was so sensitive to every touch, every single feeling running through your body. you could feel yunho’s cock everywhere. it was so overwhelming. all you could think about was how delicious it felt that his cock was ramming into that one particular spot that made you feel like you were going to pass out right there on his dick splitting you open.

your whole body was so sensitive from the pot, so much so that you found yourself on the edge quickly. your body began to tremble harder than you have before and you gasped out to your boyfriend, hands reaching to bring him closer,

“fuck. i’m gonna cum.” yunho laughs, feeling your cunt clench around his cock, “already, huh?” he mocks you, taking another hit while he watches your trembling fingers leave the grip on his shirt to find your swollen clit to hurl yourself into your crashing orgasm. your hips spasmed uncontrollably and your cunt was squeezing him as you came all around his thick cock, but you continued to ride him, abandoning your clit in favor of going back to grabbing onto his hoodie for leverage.

“fuck, tiny, you’re so good,” he grunted, rutting his cock up into you deeper. “yuyu, y-your c-cock is… s-so g-good,” you barely managed to choke out, bottoming out and grinding your clit against the base of his cock as you felt another orgasm already building in your tummy.

“gonna cum again?” he laughed this time, making your cheeks sting with humilation, but if anything this fueled you working yourself over the edge for him until you were trembling on top of his cock once more.

“fuck!” you yelped out, focusing on your bouncing to aim his cock to brush against the spot that feels the best. you didn’t even give yourself a break, eager to find your next release, eager to make him cum. you just wanted to be so good for him, all you wanted him was for him to fill you up with his cum.

yunho was basically panting, skin glowing shiny under the blue led lights in the room as a light coat of sweat coated his forehead, and he couldn’t deny that you looked so gorgeous right now. he adored when you were so insatiable to the point where you lost your mind on his cock, using him as your toy to make yourself cum. he was more than happy to sit there and let you take what your body needed.

and you, you were a sight for sore eyes. sweat beading over your body with your head thrown back, as you ground down on him with your little cunt filled with his long cock. you had already cum so much already, and you weren’t sure how much or what time it even was. time was a blur at this point, and it was the last thing you were gonna think about. the creases of your thighs, as well as his were both covered in your cum, creating sloppy, loud wet noises every time your skin met.

you were positive you had stained the bed beneath the two of you now, there was no way it hadn’t. it was filthy and you both fucking loved it.

“fuck, yunho!” you pathetically wailed, holding yourself down as deep as possible once you bottomed out, reaching down with a desperate hand to brush against your swollen clit gently enough to initiate the most toe-curling orgasm out of yourself that you think you have ever experienced. yunho groaned, pulling the blunt out of his mouth to blow a lungful of smoke back into your face as you gasped for air from cumming so hard.

“god, i can fucking feel you cum like that doll,” he groaned, tucking the rillo back in his mouth in to grab onto your tits, relentlessly pinching your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“jesus fucking christ,” you groaned, placing your hands behind you on his thighs, using him for leverage as you began to bounce onto him again. you had no idea how the burn of your thighs wasn’t bothering you as much as it should’ve been, but you just equated it to the thc flowing through your system. “you feel so fucking good, yuyu, fuck!”

“what was that?” something shifted in him, watching you through dark and heavy eyes as you lost yourself on his cock. his cock twitched in your cunt so hard, “your tiny cunt’s so fucking sensitive, couldn’t stop cumming even if you wanted to, huh?”

“fuck. yuyu, i’m gonna cum.” the nickname took his breath away, he loved how pathetic and small you looked while hungrily bouncing on his cock, calling him such a cute nickname. he could never admit it but the nickname made him fall apart, but he wasn’t going to admit that. yunho hisses, feeling your cunt clench around his cock that he swears has never been this hard before.

your head went blank, everything was subconscious at this point, digging your nails into the skin of his thighs, grinding your clit against the hilt every time his cock filled you to the brim.

yunho scowled, seemingly unsatisfied that you weren’t answering him. he sat up slightly, tangling a hand into your hair and gripping a fistful tightly to force you to stop bouncing on him, making your eyes meet his worriedly.

your pupils were blown, eyes shining with tears of need. your body was trembling above him as a sign that you were desperately close to another orgasm, and he stole that from you. this was the first time he had really moved since you got onto the bed, and the sight of him taking another long, thick hit, tapping off the ash off the side of the bed carelessly, and then blowing the smoke right into your face with a blank expression had you clenching pathetically around him.

“hmm, i asked you a question, angel,” he cooed, speech a little mumbled as he held the blunt between his lips again to free up both of his hands. wrapping both hands around your waist to shove you onto his cock the deepest it could possibly reach.

“i, i didn’t hear what you asked…” you whimpered, his cock making contact with your cervix from the angle he was sitting at now.

“i know that. poor thing,” he loosened his hold on your hair to move to cup your face almost a confusing amount of gentle, “so fucked out on my cock you can’t even think? is that what’s happening here?”

“y-yes sir,” you whimpered, the attempt to grind down against him unnoticed failed as your clit throbbed so painfully from the neglect.

“sir, huh? cute. sir fucked you dumb?” he smirked, reaching up and taking away the blunt completely now, putting it fully in the ashtray that was at the nightstand.

“y-yes,” it was a small reply, not able to get anything out that was more than that. you just wanted to cum for him again.

“my stupid little baby girl,” he chuckled, his lips against yours. you immediately responded, the pot aftertaste lingering in his mouth. you wrapped your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss as you began to bounce on him again.

“fuck,” you cried, feeling close as you ground your clit against his pelvic bone every time you sunk down onto him. yunho lowered himself back down against the pillows again, but this time, he wasn’t letting you take control in any sort of way this time. he started to fuck up into your dripping cunt instead of leaving the work to you completely.

“rub that clit tiny, cum on my cock again,” he panted out, grabbing your free hand, which had been busy playing with your nipples, to press your fingers against flush your clit. “fuck that’s it,” he praised when he felt your pussy flutter around him, watching you gently circle the bud as you rode him to your high.

the sight of you just using his body for your own pleasure while feeling your warm cunt wrapped around his throbbing cock was beginning to become too much, he could feel the heat of his own orgasm beginning to sneak up on him. the amount of self control he’s able to show after all this time was still astounding to you, and you just wanted to break that and let him paint your insides with his cum.

“fuck, fuck, i’m cumming again,” you got out in between broken words and gasps for air, thighs trembling as your high washed over you so hard it almost hurt. this time, the force from the orgasm was so intense you were unable to hold yourself up and you leaned down to rest your face against his chest as you panted and trembled through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

everything happened way too fast, and suddenly you found yourself on your back with yunho towering above you. his cock slipped out of you in the process, making your hole clench pathetically when you realized you weren’t full anymore.

“what are you doing…” you whined, arching your hips in a lazy attempt to get him back inside you.

“im gonna eat you out,” he mumbled, instantly lowering on the bed until his head was between your thighs. “oh fuck, you’re soaking,” he used his thumbs to spread your folds apart, exposing your entrance and swollen clit to the chilly air in the room. “how many times have you cum?”

“i don’t remember,” you muttered almost lifelessly. it felt so nice to be lying on your back again and giving your legs a break. you were so gone at this point, how could you remember?

“what a slut,” he growled, dragging the flat of his tongue against the tip of your clit, before shoving his tongue into your hole, coating his tongue in your delicious juices. your hands shuffling to yank at his hair when he used the tip of his tongue to graze your clit gently.

“holy fuck, that feels so good,” you whined out, arching your hips to grind against his tongue, making him chuckle.

it was unfair, how fucking good yunho’s cock felt in you, and how he had a sinfully good mouth. the feeling of his tongue licking over your swollen bud and you remembering how good his cock felt filling you up just minutes ago had you you cumming so much, spiraling into another screaming orgasm. this time, however, as your eyes rolled back and you let out a shriek of his nickname that he loved so much, you felt yourself utterly gush against his tongue.

“fuuuck,” yunho growled, sitting back on his heels before immediately sliding into your embarrassingly wet cunt without a second thought. the noises that came when he sunk into you would have embarrassed you if you not for the weed and the adrenaline pumping through your system.

“c-can’t anymore, yuyu, please stop,” you whined, but made no attempts to halt him as he began pounding into your sopping wet cunt.

“fuck. i. got. you. babygirl,” he whispered through grunts, attempting to give your lips little pecks although his deep and rough thrusts offset them a bit. “can you cum once more for me?” he panted out, eyes scanning over your fucked out, dumb expression.

“if you cum in me,” you compromised, drawing a dark change in his eyes from him as he nodded.

“anything you want, tiny,” the two of you fell into relative silence aside from your whines and moans mixing with his grunts and the wet sound of his cock fucking so deeply your cunt. he licked his pretty fingers before reaching down to spread your lips open and found your swollen clit, brushing against your bud softly as he knew how sensitive it would be and it felt like someone was shooting electricity down your nerves.

he continued to fuck you until you reached your last high, thighs clamping and trembling around his waist and your hand ripping his away from your throbbing clit. with a handful of powerful, deep thrusts, ropes of his thick cum were filling you up, and a long drawn-out groan came from his sweet lips.

the both of you were still for a minute, just sharing a moment to take a few deep breaths as his cock softened inside you before he pulled out, making you gasp from the realization of how spent your hole was. his cum leaked out of you, dripping down onto his blue comforter. he sighed, before catching it with his fingers. he brought his wet and soiled fingers to your lips, and you eagerly took them into your mouth with a small whimper; the bitter flavor of his cum spreading over your tongue.

watching yunho sink his exhausted body down to force your thighs apart wasn’t an uncommon occurrence when the two of you were done. you were tired but you sighed, letting your eyes gently shut as his tongue slid between your folds to catch the mixture of both of your cum thats leaking out of you profusely at this rate, while being gentle enough to not even brush against your clit anymore tonight.

“i love you,” yunho pets your head, fingers combing gently through your hair, “so good for me.”

“i love you, yuyu,” you hum. you don’t think you’re ever smoking with any of your friends present ever again.

[ilove-masked-men]

Say no to this - hamilton

yes i did disappear and then randomly come back to drop a Simon x Reader fic based on a hamilton song, and what?

contains - smut (a lot) an argument, lyrics duh, reader is a little slut in the good way, girl called samantha idk, degrading, unprotected p in v!! ghost referred to as simon, pet name doll

implied consent! no yes said! if you don’t like that don’t read because that’s the whole plot of the song.

female anatomy, no she used i don’t think, reader has breasts and a pussy

plot: i changed the lyrics to fit the modern day and to suit it being abt military. you seduce simon and then he gets yelled at by your tasks forces captain yada yada, there’s smut in there it’s easy to understand

There’s nothing like summer on base, Simon was under stress from the workload he had on him. There was trouble in the air you could smell it, vanilla and coconut of course. Simon was in his office all by himself, he hadn’t slept in a week he was growing weak. You’ve never seen a lieutenant more in need of a break. He was longing for Samantha, missing his wife, until you stumbled into his office, the vanilla and coconut smell strengthening.

“I know you’re doing your mission reports, i’m so sorry to bother you while you work. But i don’t know my way to my barracks, and i’m here all alone.” Is what you’d said to him, leaning on his door frame. Your hair was in a braid and you wore a shirt that pushed up your breasts, leaving little to the imagination. You wore a mini skirt, low rise and barely on your butt with some sneakers. “My Captain’s doing me wrong, beating me, overworking me, mistreating me. Then suddenly he’s terminated me, i don’t have the means to go on.” You said with a small pout, looking at him with your lashes.

Simon offered a loan for the pay check you wouldn’t receive this month, you took it and your hands graised. He offered to help you find your barrack. 

“You’re too kind, Sir…” You said quietly with a smile. The loan was about £900 he said he didn’t use. Your barrack was a block off of his own you said. “This one is mine, Sir.”

Simon watched you unlock the door and waved. “Well i should head back to my office.” He said slightly awkwardly. Your face went red, you gently grabbed his wrist as you lead him to your bed, you sat there and let your legs spread with him in the middle of them. “Stay..” You said seductively, lolling your head back.

“Hey…” He said, his hands moving to your knees as he didn’t know what to do.”

“Hey..” You replied with a small grin. 

Simon began to pray silently, lord tell me how to say no to this. He said in his head “I don’t know how to say no to this..” He muttered to you, his eyes taking your whole figure. Sat there you looked so helpless, and your body was beckoning him in, saying hell yes.

His hands moved to your inner thighs, his face closer to yours. “Woah..” You whined out, beckoning him further.

Simon was still trying to figure out how to say no, almost like he had lost the vocabulary for the word and its synonyms. In his mind he is already gone. But you lift his mask over his nose and your mouth is on his own. he does not say no.

He kisses you back eagerly, his hand moving underneath your thighs to keep you there as your hands went to the back of his neck, keeping him in the position he was in. Your tongues slip into each others mouths and his hands squeeze your thighs as he pulls you closer to his body, pulling you onto his lap and sitting on your bed, his hand moving into your mini-skirt as your hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of yourself with ease as he miraculously found out how to easily get your panties off before he pulled down his lower half and you removed his upper. 

You start making out again, your hands on his chest and his on your ass. His hands slip and one of his fingers are inside you, moving in and out desperately, pushing in another finger and then a third as he opens you up. Your nails scratch at his shoulders, mouth agape as you whine and whimper, watching his fingers moving in and out of you. But he pulls them out of you all too quickly, you drip on his thighs as he pulls his boxers down and you’re quick to move on him, gently tapping his head on your clit with a giggle before gently pushing it inside and both of you moan at the feeling. His hands go to your hips as your nails dig into his back and your head falls against his shoulder. 

“Simon..” You whined out as he gently pushed you down onto him. He was stretching you open, you were scared he was going to rip you in half when he bottomed out, he paused to catch his breath. “Doing so well for me, Doll.” He groaned, his fingers held your grips tightly, most likely going to bruise. He finally bottomed out, you almost came then and there and not to your knowledge but he was right with you. “Fuck-“ He groaned as he began to slowly lift your hips up, only pulling you up halfway before he greedily slams you down and you moan. 

He slams you up and down him and picks up the pace as he goes along, your nails on his back spurring him on as you knew they were leaving a mark. “Simon..” You whined, looking into his eyes as you picked your head up, he moved his mouth onto your neck, kissing it but not leaving marks as he knows it would spark up something with the higher-ups. He used you like a fleshlight and you let him, you finished quickly, him not so far off you. He gently lays you down on your bed, finding a towel in your room and cleaning you up before he got dressed and left.

That wasn’t the last time, he wishes it was but it became a past time. A month into this endeavour he received an email from a captain of a different task force, even better it said.

Dear Sir, i hope you read this without your wife present and in a prosperous enough position to put wealth in the pockets of people like me down on their luck. You see, that was my lieutenant you decided to-

“Fuck..” He groaned as he read on, his hand on his head as he scrolled down through the email.

Uh-oh! You made the wrong sucker a cuckold so it’s time to pay the piper for the pants you unbuckled!

But you can continue to see the whore soldier (if the price is right) if not i’m gonna tell your wife and captain.

He archived the email and ran to her office. “How could you?!” He screamed in her face and she looked up at him.

“No, Sir…” You whined, tears welling in your eyes.

You were half dressed, apologetic a mess and you cried. “Please don’t go, Sir!” You yelp desperately.

“Was that whole story a set up?” He asked you angrily.

“I don’t know about any email!” You whimper, grabbing his wrist.

“Stop crying- god dammit get up!” He growled and took his wrist back.

“I didn’t know any better.” She cried, standing up and looking at him

“I am ruined!” He said in frustration, placing his hands on his face.

“Please don’t leave me i am helpless…” You whined. 

“How could you do this?” He groaned, not paying attention to much your saying.

“Just give him what he wants and you can have me..” You tell him, placing a hand on his neck.

“I don’t want you- i don’t want you!” He responded, swatting your hand away.

“Whatever you want, if you pay, you can..” You peek your shirt upwards, exposing your chest. “Stay..”You told him

“No that’s-“ He cut himself off once he saw you and he groaned in frustration, his jeans getting tighter

“Lord show me how to say no to this..” He muttered to himself.

“I don’t know how you’d say no to this..” You mutter with a pout.

You close your office door behind him, there is nowhere he can go now so he sits on your office chair, you sit on his lap and he doesn’t say no.

He should be pushing you off, he has a wife and he could lose his job to this. But his hands are in your back as he feels you grind against him and he can’t help but reciprocate.

He pushing down his jeans and boxers slightly, enough for his cock to get out, he moves your panties to the side and puts himself in without preparation, bottoming out in one large thrust which made you finish with a loud cry of his name. He still pounded into you, getting his anger out through groans and treating you roughly. “Slut..” He groaned, but it only spurred you on further. 

He finishes with a groan, burying his cock inside of you. He pulls himself out of you and places you in your desk, putting himself away and walking out like nothing happened. 

Later on that day he met up with your task forces captain, his face more concealed then ever, not wearing his skull, a plain black balaclava, his hood up, hands in his pockets as he grabbed a white envelope. He wore black gloves, not skull ones. People would think some sort of drug deal was happening if they saw.

“Nobody needs to know.” He told him with a groan, his voice quiet. As soon as the envelope was out of his hands he bolts off, only to find himself knocking on the door to your barrack.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

TADC Playing D&D

(ALL PLATONIC/FAMILIAL.)

Caine is the DM obviously

Pomni plays a Firbolg Warlock (but her Firbolg’s design is the one that looks like a cow. y’all know the one. it’s the only valid design for a Firbolg)

Jax plays a Tiefling Rogue (obviously)

Ragatha plays an Aasimar Cleric (also obviously)

Zooble plays a Changeling Barbarian

Gangle plays a Gnome Druid

Kinger plays a Warforged Artificer

And then Caine reveals the plot twist: it’s gonna be irl dnd, and they ACTUALLY PLAY their characters

They’ve got costumes and their character traits and everything! Like, Ragatha gets angel wings, Jax has horns, Pomni gets a tail (because, again, cow-like Firbolgs are the only right way to design Firbolgs, and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands)

The terrain also changes into the same terrain as wherever they adventure to

Antics ensue!

Zooble is the tank

And they can instill the fear of god upon man

But you know who else can be scary as fuck?

Ragatha

Have you ever fought a Forge Cleric before? Did you know those bitches can wear Heavy Armor?

Combat is WILD when they’re actually acting it out

Though, it can barely be considered “acting” because Caine has somehow made magic possible????

Kinger asks to make the most wild shit because he thinks it’s fun

Gangle once got downed, got to two (2) failed Death Saves, was brought back up, and then was IMMEDIATELY downed again

Pomni gets anxiety over even the most mundane of rolls

She was asked to roll Perception, and she was sweating buckets, afraid to fail and screw everything up, and it was literally just to find a nice bakery in the city they were at

Jax asks to pickpocket orphans

Ragatha: Pomni, why is your Strength a seven???

Pomni: i don’t want to talk about it

Her Unarmed Strike literally does zero (0) damage

She never uses her weapon ever

Only Eldritch Blast

She also uses other spells ofc, but Eldritch Blast is her go-to

“Doll Face, i’m down” “Pomni’s having a panic attack” “okay, and? i’m downed”

Jax and Ragatha have beef the Whole Time

“why did you think you could hide in an empty arena??” “because i’m a Rogue, and they have Advantage on hiding!” “IT IS AN EMPTY ARENA WITH NOTHING BUT SAND.” “I AM A ROGUE WITH ADVANTAGE TO HIDING.” “THE ARENA IS EMPTY. THERE IS NOWHERE TO HIDE.”

Despite being a Firbolg, which is considered a race of Giant, Pomni is STILL considered as a Small creature (due to her own height)

Because of this, she can ride every single other person in the party, as the Ride rules in dnd state that a willing creature at least one size larger than you and has appropriate anatomy can serve as a mount

This has started a “technique” the group has named “War Horsing”

In which Pomni sits on someone’s shoulders and spams Eldritch Blast non-stop while the other person wrecks house

(She usually sits on Zooble’s shoulders and Cure Wounds them whenever they take too much damage)

She’s also called the “cannon” of the group because she’ll sit on Zooble’s shoulders and use Fireball

Speaking of Fireball!

The gang once found Beads of Fireball, and Jax, wanting to be a boss bitch and show how much better than everyone he is by single-handedly killing this super hard boss they were fighting, thought that because he’s a Tiefling and Tieflings have Resistance to Fire Damage, he could easily survive a blast.

Anyway, he ended up taking 80d6 Fire Damage after he threw all ten (10) beads at once.

Even when the damage was halved, he still died instantly.

Ragatha considered if it was worth it to Revivify him.

Pomni uses Speech of Beast and Leaf to speak with plants, and the plants just cuss her out.

Zooble: can i roll to pick up Pomni by the ankles and swing her around as an improvised weapon?

Pomni: ?!?!?!

(Caine said yes)

(Zooble ended up doing five whole damage with Pomni’s body)

Caine once rolled 200d8 Bludgeoning damage because Kinger fell off a mountain (he was Revivified by Ragatha after)

“COUNTERSPELL THIS, B[@&$%]” -Zooble, right before decking an NPC straight through a wall

When fights get too hairy, Jax will Disengage and leave the party to fend for themselves

There was once this HORRIFIC chase scene the party had to try to survive

Zooble: *polymorphed into a mountain goat by Pomni, sprinting as fast as they can*

Gangle: *Wild Shaped into a mouse, desperately hanging onto Zooble’s fur*

Ragatha: *flying away while holding Pomni*

Pomni: *clinging to Ragatha like how a baby sloth would cling to its mother, shooting Eldritch Blast at the monster every turn in a desperate attempt to slow it down, screaming*

Jax: *already 200ft in front of the others because he ran off way before them*

Kinger: *wondering if it’s a good time to tell the others he has Longstrider prepared*

Jax got maimed by a Mimic because he couldn’t help but not loot a chest he found

He then proceeded to get maimed by ANOTHER MIMIC in the VERY NEXT ROOM because he also tried to loot that, too

Zooble: does a 22 hit? 😏

Caine: no

the entire party: 😟

Pomni got bitten by a werewolf and failed the Constitution saving throw, so she ended up becoming a werewolf. During her first transformation, she lost control after failing the saving throw and immediately started mauling Jax.

Everyone just kinda stopped and watched in awe for a moment before they realized they should probably help him.

“He needed the humbling” -Zooble

Kinger crafts Pomni a gun and gives it to her

Caine: so you all see the werewolf pull out a Tommy gun

The party had to fight this giant frog, and they all thought it would be a walk in the park, but then it swallowed Pomni, and the simple encounter turned into a fight for Pomni’s fucking life because Pomni was actively suffocating inside of it, and Jax wanted to blow up the frog with a magic grenade he had, despite Pomni being in there (he was well aware that she would also take damage), and Ragatha was trying to see if she could heal Pomni from inside the frog, and Gangle ended up Wild Shaping into another frog and begging it to let Pomni go.

Pomni was traumatized.

Caine: who’s done a good job at roleplaying recently?

Kinger: well, Pomni did have a panic attack

[asherloki]

helloooo :)

i was wondering if u could write somthing about anderson disrespecting reader when they join cases with sherlock, but always behind their backs

but then sherlock hears and he starts (trying) to beat him up, and anderson puts up a good fight, however sherlock still wins

he goes home to 221B and reader is shocked asking who hurt him and what he did, but he doesn’t give away anything, and simply tell them not to worry about it. whilst reader is patching up his wounds, john comes back and starts saying how cool, dangerous and reckless beating up anderson for reader was and they’re just flustered and shocked, saying thank you to sherlock (maybe a first kiss scene?)

reader also gives anderson a piece of their mind - not because he disrespected them, because he beat up sherlock :)

tysm and ur work is amazing!!!!

Detective's doll

Bbc Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 840

A/n:- listen guys, just one or two fic will come this month, once October is here I'll be doing Halloween fics! I've shared some prompts do check! Fandoms you know, otherwise check my masterlist.

"you think I can help you with this case?" I enquired to Sherlock not believing he asked my help suddenly for a case. I've been fond of him since I moved in. He can seem cold, unfriendly, some people may describe him as arrogant as well. I was no exception, however living with him taught he's actually pretty lonely. Especially since john watson was married. Sometimes when he's working or sitting with his microscope he looks as pure as a child who just needs a hug. I do want to hug him tight sometimes but he's not very fond of touches innit? So I never dared.

"that's why I asked you, look this case includes information about victorian literature and by seeing your side of the bookshelf " he said pointing to our bookshelf, his side was filled with books about chemistry, science, anatomy and mine was filled with victorian classic novels, mostly, "I think you can help us with this".

"okay then" I must admit I was over the moon. A real life adventure was calling me, how could I not be thrilled.

In evening we went to Scotland yard, I felt excited about being able to help these men. Especially Sherlock, he introduced me to lestrade and informed him that I'll be joining their quest. His agreement confirmed my involvement before I went with him to his office to get some information about the case, I thought Sherlock was following me however I turned around to find out he was going to a different direction, he was walking towards Andersen. Perhaps he had business with him, but one question still lingered, he doesn't quite like Andersen that much.

When I came back with a folder in my hand which contained some information put inside, not in an organised way, I looked around for Sherlock, it seemed like he was gone, and for some reason people or I must say other officers there stared at me. I wondered why, maybe because I don't usually visit their office. Though their furrowed brows told some different story.

After I got to Baker Street I found the flat's door already open,

"Sherlock?" I called, to make sure it was him who opened the door, and not some break in, "is it you in there?" I walked in showing some bravery, trying to make least noise possible to find Sherlock struggling with the first aid box.

"gosh" I went closer to him and I gasped as I found out he had a cut along his cheek bone, and some more wounds accompanying "what the... what happened?"

"nothing" replied the detective, still trying to get the box open. I noticed his knuckles were hurt too as they were all red, it was the reason for his struggle with the first aid box. They were hurting him as he tried to open it.

"fine don't tell me" the only thing I couldn't bring myself to like about him was his habit of keeping things hidden, "do me a favour and sit" I wonder if my eyes reflected all the concern I felt for him. It may have, for he stared at me for a few seconds then obeyed without any objection. I took some medicine in cotton to apply over his cut.

"ow" he pulled away as the medicine on the wound felt like burn.

"I know it might hurt but please.." as I said and he nodded in agreement, it appeared to how much I fancied this moment, me taking care of him, even though he was hurt, and that was the part I disliked. I continued to do my job until John Watson came bursting in,

"oh gosh you're here, you did amazing" he seemed overjoyed and I bet I could see all his 32 teeth the way he smiled.

"let's not talk about it" said Sherlock softly. My confusion rose at this point, does john know what happened?

"no wait" I forbid him to interfere, "what happened john?"

"wait you don't know?" he asked in a way as if I'm the one who should be knowing this before others, although he was well aware how secretive his friend can be.

"how's mary? Is pregnancy bothering her?" Sherlock interrupted again, with his terrible skill of small talk.

"shhh" I hushed him "speak up John".

"Sherlock beat up Andersen" He spoke finally.

"he did what?"

"yes, because..."

"you said enough" Sherlock forbid him again.

"no he hasn't" I said, "because?" I turned to John.

"because Andersen said shit about you" John's words left his mouth and hit me, one because Andersen said something bad about me? but I never were mean to him even for once, why would he do that? and two, Sherlock beat him for that? For me?

"it wasn't just.." Sherlock started to say something, he was lacking excuses so he stuttered until I spoke,

"really?"

"yes, Andersen is beaten up terribly by him" replied john, "and you shouldn't bother about what he said".

That only meant it was very mean, "I'd still like to know"

"dumb doll of the detective" said Sherlock, "that's what he told you, you're dumb, a doll who's is controlled by me"

I gasped at this not knowing what to say.

"an opportunist" followed by a few seconds of quietness, "he said more but..."

It felt terrible, no wonder other words were far more worse that Sherlock couldn't bring himself to speak.

"anyway" John said breaking the silence. "I better go home, Mary might need me."

Waving us he went and left us wondering about the situation. I turned to Sherlock as I was yet to understand all those cuts and wounds he endured, were all to protect my image? To protect me from words? He knew then how sensitive I am under the cover of a strong person, "you fought him for me?"

He nodded in response, followed by the heavy exhale.

"and why?"

"because you don't deserve disrespect, and obviously not from someone like Andersen." he replied.

I don't know why but that moment I didn't care if he likes being touched or not instead I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed my chin on his head, sniffing his hair and realising his shampoo has a decent smell, no wonder his curls were like a soft pillow. It forced me to lean my cheek too with a smile that appeared on my lips, "you didn't have to, but thanks"

"no problem" he said taking my hand, and caressing it, as if it was an assurance, a promise that my palm was safe in his hand.

Next day Sherlock, john and I went to Scotland yard where I found the sight of beaten up Andersen, oh how... terrible honestly. I felt bad how wounded he was but atleast he'll think twice before disrespecting me, or anyone. Sherlock made sure of that.

"you guys go inside, I'll be with you in a minute" I said walking to Andersen, although Sherlock pulled me a little by my wrist to say,

"listen" Sherlock said, "don't put up a fight I did it already"

"I won't" we exchanged smiles and I went to catch Andersen,

"Andersen!" I called.

He looked horrified yet fuming at me he said, "you? what do you want?"

With some strength in my voice I stated, as politely as possible yet stern, "next time if want to say something, make sure it's on my face, but if you dare again, my detective will kill you, I'm his doll afterall, he won't let you play with me like that" then I went a little closer and replied in a hushed voice, "I'm his to love, his to keep, his to adore." This may haven't scared him but infuriated him even more, so I stepped backwards with a smile, now that my threat did it's job and walked away, just one more time I turned around to wave him, a mocking wave to be more clear, "see ya".

[ghostssweetgirl]

toxic ghost x fem reader [smut]

cw: unprotected p in v sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), fem reader fem anatomy, name-calling, degrading, praising, toxic ghost, angst(ish) idk! idk how i feel about this one, i haven't wrote in a minute.

You've been seeing Ghost on and off for months now. Answering his every beck and call, dealing with being shouted at, disciplined for every mistake the rookies made as if it were your fault, you allowed him to take his anger out on you, resulting in this... chase. This... game. You wanted to stop, you knew this was never going to go anywhere. Why did you still try? You begged for him to let you in, show him that you could be, were more than just a plaything. He blew you off, swiftly shrugging your hand off his shoulder as he would walk away without looking back.

You lay on your bed, your hands between your thighs as your head tilted back as you sighed out in pleasure. You couldn't stop thinking about him. He's ruined you, and you were falling into it willingly. 

You felt guilty, knowing he was breaking your heart. You didn't answer his text, he'd show up at your barrack, and you would allow him in. You always do. It was that time. He just wanted to relieve some stress, and you knew that's all it was. Falling into every sweet nothing he'd spill, just to get in your pants and leave you high and dry after he was done, chasing after him. He liked the game, he was looking back to make sure you were still running after him. He had you wrapped around his finger, in such the wrong way. You gasp, slowly lifting your head as you heard the doorknob twist and open, the dark silhouette of his body looming over you. You didn't stop rubbing yourself. It is so perverse, so wrong. You should stop, you know you should. You should stop right now. Turn him away. Don't give in. 

"What are you doin', luv?" he whispered, walking to sit on the edge of the bed. His sweet pet names got your stomach fluttering, but as you meet his dark eyes, emotionless except holding desire for your body and nothing more, you remember, these pet names meant nothing, were nothing. 

"Nothin'," you lied, defeated as you looked over his body before focusing on his eyes.

"Stop thinkin' so loud, luv," he rasped, his hand groping the bulge in his pants which were tightening. "'M followin' your eyes, doll, like what you see, yeah?"

Finally your hand movements stop, pulling your hand out of your underwear, you sit back on your elbows, giving him access to crawl closer to you. His waist opens your legs as he settled between them, hovering over you. He groans deeply as he grinds against you. 

"Getting right to it, I see," you muttered. His hand cupped your jaw as he tilted your face to his.

"That's right," his eyes squinted, looking over the features of your face. "You're so fuckin' pretty, baby. I can't help it."

He lifted his mask above his lips, leaning down. His lips crash against yours roughly, sloppily, hungrily as he then traced his hand down your chest. For a split second, you forgot about all of your woes, all of your negative thoughts about him. For now, you'd drown in this fire. Let him consume you, let him win you over for what you told yourself would be the last time. You moaned into his mouth as he held a tight grip onto your breasts, moving down to grasp your waist, massaging slow circles into it. Your hips knowingly buck into his, earning any friction you could find. 

He knew every weak spot, every sensitive spot, using it against you. He made quick work of kissing down your jawline, sucking on your neck while he pulled your pants down along with your panties. He groaned against your skin as he slipped a hand in between your thighs, his fingers exploring your wet folds before he slid your shirt over your breasts. 

"So wet already, yeah? Easy access," he chuckled lowly. He unbuckled his pants, removing them enough to free his cock. He spat in his hand and rubbed the spit along the thick head of his cock, slapping it against your cunt. "Ready for me?"

You do nothing but look up at him as you bit your lip. You nodded as your mouth fell agape at the tip prodding against your entrance. You both sigh in unison at the feeling before he slides all the way in. 

"That's it, fuck, that's it," he praised you. "Good girl, good fuckin' girl..."

This is what made you weak to him. You knew you couldn't be pleased like this elsewhere, yet you craved the emotional intimacy that you would never get from him. He thrusted deep into you, his tip hitting your cervix with each push, your moans were music to his ears. He grabbed your wrist into one fist and held them over your head as his thrusts got longer and deeper.

"Such a good cunt taking all of me," he moaned. "Feels good, right, doll?"

"Y-yeah, feels so good," you mewled. His movements went to a slow pace as his eyes flickered between your own.

He sighed. "Luv... talk to me." As if he actually cared.

You moaned at him slowing down, but as you met his eyes, obviously frustrated, you hesitated in speaking your mind. 

He leaned down, his other hand wrapped around your head as he caressed it, his other hand still holding your above your head. "Tell me, come on..."

"Simon..." you sighed. "I want... more than just sex."

He grunted as he slammed his hips into yours, earning a louder moan from you. He leaned back, letting go of your hands as he held a vice grip onto your hips, needily chasing his high, and you couldn't stop the knot from tightening in your stomach as he was hitting that one spot so deliciously.

"Simon!" you wailed, covering your mouth as your pussy clenched his cock as your orgasm sent waves of electricity through you. 

His jaw clenched as he finally made eye contact with you again, leaning down once more as he breathed heavily into your face. His nose brushed against yours, as he chuckled softly.

"Fuck... you brainless little thing... how many times..." he paused as he watched his cock slide in and out of you, hearing the schlick as your juices wept over his cock. "... do I have to tell you..."

He flipped you over on top of him, his hand grazes your lower back, guiding your hips up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. "That you... you are just a warm body. A nice hole to fill. To use. A good little fucktoy. And I know, luv, I know. I know you like it just as much as I do, yeah?"

His hips buck up into you roughly, the pleasure being too immense for you to handle as you cried out, your nails scratch against his chest. "See, look at you, you fuckin' slut, you love it."

You can't deny that you love it, but god you longed for more. 

"Simon..." you moaned as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. "Please..."

He ignored your pleas as he kept bullying his cock into you, his thrusts becoming sloppier as you could barely hold yourself up. One hand caressed your neck as the other gripped the fat of your hips, using you as his cock sleeve.

"Take it, take it, fuck," he gritted his teeth, slowing his thrusts as he pulled you off of him, his cum shooting over your ass. "What a good slut."

You lay there awkwardly on his chest as he soothingly rubbed your back for a moment, coming off of his high. You then flopped on your side next to him, waiting for him to get up. This time it wasn't as instant as it usually is. 

"I don't want you to leave me," you whispered. "I'm so tired... tired of begging for it, Simon."

He laid there emotionless, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as his breath calmed. How can he be calm? How can he do this to you? To his subordinate... someone he was supposed to protect and care for?

He sighed as he sat up, pulling his pants up as he buckled them. He stood there with his back turned towards you. "And I'll keep coming back. As long as you let me. We can quit this little game... you're the one who keeps letting me in, yeah?"

Your mouth opens and closes trying to find the words. "You know what, Simon? You're right. Don't come crawling back here or even fucking text me when you want to get your dick wet. Go get it from some other bitch, I am not a barracks bunny... Get the fuck out of here." Your words held venom within them, but if you were being honest... you don't know for sure that you wouldn't let him come back. This was the whole point of the game, right?

He chuckled as he nodded his head. Almost as if he somehow knew you weren't serious. He knew just how to get into your head, surely it wouldn't be long before you let him come crawling right back. "A'right, then, soldier. Until next time..."

He walked out the door, leaving you alone to cry yourself to sleep in your pillow, not caring to shower, not caring about setting an alarm. You want to mean what you said so badly, but there's still part of you deep down that thinks there's a sliver of a chance to creep inside his cold fucking heart. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

To be continued...? (maybe)

[2manythoughtz]

Is Barbie A Joke To Critics?

Just a week ago I wrote an article about the Barbie movie and how it was not only misunderstood but also overlooked when it comes to its deep meaning. We’ve had people like Jo Koy mocking the movie and comparing it to Oppenheimer which is a movie inspired by real events of our past, not only that but the winning song was I’m Just Ken, that alone should show just how little critics care to take what the movie teaches us and use it in the real world.

And we’re back at it. As you know, the nominations for the Oscars have been released. You’d be surprised to see that neither Margot Robbie (the main actress who interpreted Barbie) nor Greta Gerwig (the director of Barbie) got nominated in their categories. Speaking of the directors’ category, Greta is not new to being snubbed by the Oscars, it had already happened with Little Women. The only difference is that in 2020 there were no women nominated as best director, this year we have a female director who’s been nominated and that’s Justine Triet with Anatomy of a Fall, which is not bad. What’s laughable is the fact that Barbie has won the Golden Globes Award for Cinematic and Box Office Achievement and yet its director is not taken seriously.

And we’re not even talking about any film, to this day Barbie has made 1.45 billion U.S. dollars worldwide which makes it the best movie debut for a female director. 

Margot Robbie didn’t get nominated as best actress although her performance as Barbie was absolutely iconic, she really brought Barbie to life in a unique way that not many actresses could’ve achieved. If you thought it couldn’t get any worse, let me tell you that Ryan Gosling (the actor who interpreted Ken) got nominated as Best Supporting Actor. That is fair, Ryan did an amazing job at portraying Ken, he really made his character funny and entertaining, he earned his nomination and I’m sure everyone is happy that he was one of the two nominees for Barbie. 

But fans were not the only ones who were disappointed, Ryan Gosling himself commented on the matter and showed his displeasure. Here are his words:

“I am extremely honored to be nominated by my colleagues alongside such remarkable artists in a year of so many great films. And I never thought l’d being saying this, but I’m also incredibly honored and proud that it’s for portraying a plastic doll named Ken.

But there is no Ken without Barbie, and there is no Barbie movie without Greta Gerwig and Margot Robbie, the two people most responsible for this history-making, globally-celebrated film.

No recognition would be possible for anyone on the film without their talent, grit and genius.

To say that I’m disappointed that they are not nominated in their respective categories would be an understatement.

Against all odds with nothing but a couple of soulless, scantily clad, and thankfully crotchless dolls, they made us laugh, they broke our hearts, they pushed the culture and they made history. Their work should be recognized along with the other very deserving nominees.

Having said that, I am so happy for America Ferrera and the other incredible artists who contributed their talents to making this such a groundbreaking film.”

As Ryan said, the only woman who got nominated is America Ferrera who had an impactful role in the movie, her monologue about women and every hardship that they have to face because of society has become viral. Her character represents women, any women, and she did an outstanding job that earned her the nomination for Best Supporting Actress. The only shame is that she’s the only woman who got the privilege of being nominated for a movie that talks about feminism and how women don’t have the same treatment as men.

The Oscars proved Barbie right once again.