#i still have to work up the nerve to fuckin. send asks. i have not interacted with ppl in fandom since. 2016? i'm still getting used to thi

[samiferboy]

WIP ask game 2

tagged by @quietwingsinthesky thanks!!

was tagged in this the other day but fuck it i'll do it again LOL

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

these are just my spn wips, my titles are completely inscrutable, you're welcome <3

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT THAT??? YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!!! (aka nyfic aka the giant samifer fic i've been working on since august)

i needed more stanford era so this happened

terrible time for swesson

if i'm going to hell for anything in this folder it's this one (already discussed here <3)

is this unethical science

relapse but make it sexy :3

oops all hallucifer noncon

overstimulation station

you know how it is in the cage

still too shy to tag ppl sorry i'm just a little guy!!!! i also think all my mutuals who write have already been tagged by someone else i follow lmao but if you haven't feel free to do this and say i tagged you!

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 16 + 17) tw: violence, injuries, and misogynistic language

first chapter >> last chapter

-

Sinking into fear is the body’s natural response. You let it envelope you without putting up a struggle. It wouldn’t be one that you’d win anyway. Resistance already leaks out of you like tar, pooling around your quivering legs.  

It makes you feel lighter than air, almost buoyant; and conversely, heavier than lead. 

You can’t feel the cold metal of the gun through the layers of fabric separating it from the skin of your back, but you can feel its weight. And you can imagine it burning into you, burning a ring into the flesh, the muzzle leaving faint depressions behind, circular indents.

“Don’t feel so clever now, huh?”

Fear chokes as well as it binds. When the man you remember as Graves (appropriately named, you think, the gravity of the situation sinking into you as well) drawls the words into your ear, any moisture in your mouth dries. 

“Well?” he prompts, shoving the gun harder into your back, almost sending you toppling into the shelf still in front of you obscuring you from sight. “Got anythin’ to say?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

“You a mute, girl? I know you ain’t deaf since you heard I’d been sniffin’ around lookin’ for ya. ‘Least I’m guessin’ you did, since you managed to give me the slip for the whole time I was in town.” He sniffs. “Took me a while to find out you were shacked up with the sheriff. Hiding in plain sight. Couldn’t believe I missed ya when Sheriff Price was damn near the first person I met in this two-bit town.”

You finally muster up the nerve to speak. “Y-you’re making a mistake.” 

The furled upper lip is audible in his voice. “I’d try not to piss me off too much, sugar. Lyin’ just rubs me the wrong way is all.”

“No, you—you really don’t—” 

He shoves the gun harder into your back, making you wince. “Now, I know you’re a slippery little bitch, so I’ll level with you, alright?” Graves murmurs, pitching his voice low to ensure that only you hear. “You make so much as a peep—so much as a fuckin’ whisper—and I’ll shoot. Wink and I’ll shoot. I am dyin’ for you to give me a reason to go with the better half of the dead or alive question.”

There’s no point in lying. It might’ve worked had it been anyone but the man holding you hostage; not a man as stubborn and mulish as him. You nod when he asks if you understand.

“Now get to steppin’.”

He doesn’t tarry long, leading you out of the shop with a hand on your shoulder and . You stare at Miles with mounting horror, wordlessly begging him to look up from the ledger open in front of him on the counter. Your prayers go unanswered though; he doesn’t so much as glance towards the door before it’s swinging shut behind you.

“Remember,” Graves says in a low voice as the two of you step out onto the porch, “not a word. I will shoot anyone that tries to interfere.” 

That kills the impulse to shout for help. 

The thought of letting Graves take you away without voicing so much as a single plea fills you with horror, but you can’t see any other way out. He walks you through the streets like an old friend, the pistol still wedged into your back obscured by his coat. No one seems to notice the wild look in your eyes or the strained edge of your smile. 

Your behavior infuriates you. Demural and soft and wretched. You’ve only allowed one man to put you under their thumb; only one has ever earned the right. 

The thought of your husband is an ache in your chest that doesn’t abate. It thumps with the terrified flutter of your heart. You half wonder if he’ll suddenly appear from around a bend and wrench you into his arms, gun already drawn and aimed at the man attempting to take you away from him. 

“My husband—” you start, tripping over your words. Almost tripping over a rock as well since your spine is too stiff to let you look down at the ground while you walk. “—He can—he can pay you.”

He laughs, a nasty, mocking sound. “I’m sure he’d like to, sugar. Jus' ain’t sure he’s got the cash to pay your price.”

“At least let me ask—”

At that, he jams the gun violently into the small of your back, making you wince agaun. Petrified. Sweat sluices off your brow and drips down your face. “What part of shut the fuck up don’t you get?”

That silences you. Hard to muster up the nerve to retaliate with a gun lodged against the base of your spine. Still there’s so much that bears asking. Why did he come back? Why here—why now? 

The town takes on a dull, listless quality as he steers you away from the more crowded areas. It’s almost like looking through muslin; a veil between you and the world. 

Your eyes dart from person to person as they pass by in the opposite direction, but even those that bother to meet your gaze only smile politely, a couple passing gentlemen chirping, “Morning, Mrs. Price” before sweeping by in a hurry. 

None question the wild, frantic glint in your eye, the look of a horse about to bolt. If they paid you more than a moment’s notice, they might, but even the lady who frowns curiously at Graves, his hand still resting gently on your arm as if he were an old, dear friend, abandons her momentary curiosity when her companion says something of interest, pulling her back into their conversation. The flicker of hope in your belly dies a soundless death. 

There’s something almost phantasmagorical about the entire ordeal. Almost like it isn’t quite happening, like you can’t quite make yourself believe that this is, in fact, real. Like you’re watching from outside of yourself. Though you can see the wooden facades of the nearby buildings and smell the scent of hay and manure from the livery stable, it doesn’t resonate within you as real. 

He meanders through town with you stationed in front of him. A meat shield. Collateral damage. Simply by the way he maneuvers you through the crowd, he reduces you to a body, stripping you of any semblance of personhood. You’re less than meat to him, less than human even—no more than a meal ticket. 

When you muster up the courage to open your mouth the next time someone passes you by, Graves’ hand slides up to your shoulder and he digs his fingers into the bone. A warning. 

“If you think I was kiddin’ before, just try me,” he sneers into your ear, thumb pressing into your shoulder blade until you wince. 

Again, his voice dispels any thought of getting someone’s attention. 

He doesn’t lead you towards the train station like you expect. Instead, he heads to an awning beneath the saloon on the periphery of town where a couple horses are leashed to a post, waiting for their riders to come untie them. The roof of the awning is strung with a dense cluster of overlapping cobwebs. A spider scuttles across the web and into the dark inner recesses of the canopy. 

This far from the center of town, there’s hardly anyone. When you give your surroundings a quick glance, you can’t find a single other soul within earshot, only a single man pushing open the batwing doors on his way into the saloon. Then you’re alone again. 

A tawny gelding chuffs when Graves approaches.  When he suddenly unhands you, it doesn’t click until he’s several paces away from you, running his hand down his horse’s neck and rifling through the saddlebags, emptying the contents of his coat pockets into them. You have to glance down at your shoulder just to be sure. He sheathes his gun as well, tucking it into the holster fixed to his belt. 

“Bought the horse off a drunk three towns back,” Graves explains while loading up the horse.

You don’t respond, still unsettled. It’s the first time since he led you out of the general store that his gun hasn’t been aimed at you. It wouldn’t be practical for him to dress and load the horse one handed. The sun beats down on you, burning the top of your head. This could be your moment—a moment to scream or run away.

But you don’t. You don’t scream and you don’t run because you are, above all else, a coward. Through and through. You’ve been running from your problems for months now, leaving someone else to take care of the mess you left behind. 

Fear paralyzes you; it makes you think too much or not at all. Even now, with Graves giving you the perfect opportunity to turn and run, you can’t stop thinking about the potential consequences. What if he were to shoot you? What if he were to haul you back into town and expose your sins to everyone who gathered around? What if the people in town that have come to see you as one of their own were to gather around your crumpled form and stare at you with vitriol and disgust? 

“How did you—” you start, then pause to breathe, the nausea building again. “I thought you’d left town.”

“You’d’ve liked that, huh?” 

You don’t answer that. You know better than to antagonize a man with a gun. 

He sighs when you don’t rise to the bait, almost pettish. “Wedding announcement. I saw it in the paper—by then, I’d moved on to Lexington, so it took me awhile to backtrack, but I just knew somethin’ about that bit in the paper about the sheriff’s wife hailing from the east coast didn’t sound right. Too big of a coincidence. Had to at least be sure—retrace my footsteps. Lotta money on the line, you know.”

You stare straight ahead at that. You ought to have known. 

(“In the paper. The county sheriff got hitched—of course it’d be a story.”)

“To be honest, that kinda cracked me up. Murderess marrying the county sheriff.” He snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. “Sorta thing you’d read about in a dime novel.”

A new emotion wells up within you. It simmers in your belly, hot and cold at once. Righteous fury. All this time, you’ve been betraying yourself with your silence, allowing men to read your fear as guilt. Complicit in your own ruin. 

“I’m not a murderer.”

The look he gives you is withering. “Sugar, I hate to break it to you, but you did kill a man.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Nothing ever does, it seems.  But the more you hold it in, the uglier the thought seems, until it erupts from your chest like Vesuvius, lava and tephra shooting out. 

“He deserved it,” you finally spit out, the words coming from deep in your chest. 

Graves doesn’t even pause in his ministrations, back to tightening the saddle straps. 

“He deserved it,” you repeat, spittle flying out of your mouth and landing in the dirt between the two of you. 

“That’s not somethin’ I usually concern myself with,” he finally says, looking distinctly unimpressed when he meets your stare. Bored blue eyes. 

You’re struck by the sense that your life means so little to him that the circumstances surrounding your bounty hardly merit more than a passing thought. If he could spare less, he would. 

It’s the vilest thing in the world to be regarded with such bored contempt. 

“He would’ve—he would’ve raped me otherwise. I didn’t have a choice.” 

At that, Graves pauses. When he looks towards you, his eyes are curiously blank. 

“Better that than what’ll happen now,” he says, the words so perfunctory that it takes a moment for them to sink in.  When they do, you have to swallow back bile.

His glibness shatters whatever hope you’d had left. 

In that moment, you finally acknowledge that appealing to his sense of decency won’t lead you anywhere because it simply doesn’t exist within him. You’ve known men like him before—those more concerned with lining their own pockets than taking care of the vulnerable people around them. The archetype is not uncommon. You should’ve expected it even, especially from a bounty hunter. 

There won’t be any bribing him or talking your way out of the situation you’ve found yourself in. Whatever facinorous end awaits you back east, he’s happy to shepherd you there so long as it earns him his thirty coins. 

How many times do you have to ask yourself if you’re brave enough to do something before you answer? 

When Graves turns to face you again and takes a step towards you, likely to urge you up onto the saddle, you recoil, stumbling away from him. His eyes sharpen at your movement, fulvous wolf eyes narrowing on you. 

“And here I thought you’d stopped pissin’ me off,” he says lightly, a hard edge underlying his words. His hand lifts to rest against the handle of the revolver tucked back in its sheath, thumb flexing over it. 

“What’s the point?” you retort, nostrils flaring. “You either kill me here or I die there.”

You sound braver than you feel, fear making you shake so hard that your knees almost knock together. 

Graves’ smile is all lip, no crinkling around the eyes. “Oh, I won’t kill you, sugar. I’m a better shot than that.”

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, stomach turning over at the thought of him putting a bullet through your shoulder or leg. 

“I’m surprised you won’t just come quietly. You think the sheriff wouldn’t hand you over to me himself if he found out what kinda woman he married?”

That’s been your fear from the very beginning. The one thing that’s kept you awake at night, the nightmare shaking you out of a dead sleep. You’d convinced yourself that him calling the authorities or even escorting you back east himself was an inevitability. That John Price, paragon of virtue, wouldn’t bend the rules for anyone, much less you. 

But the more you think about it, the less sense it seems to make. Every tender word and touch rises to the forefront of your memory. If John has shown you anything, it’s love. He’s proven his devotion a thousand times over, shown you time and again that were you to leave, he’d come running. 

Suddenly, the thought that your husband would let someone take you away from him seems preposterous. It doesn’t align at all with the man you know. He’d go to hell and back for you, would rip out a man’s tongue for speaking to you the way Graves speaks to you now. Hindsight makes that clear. 

You meet his eyes, intention set. “I’d rather just ask him.”

Blue eyes turn to flint, flat. Droll candor shed for ruthlessness. Silence before a storm. 

He’s on you before you even have a chance to whirl around and make a run for it, arm cutting into your windpipe when he wraps it around your neck. He drags you back into the shadows of the awning, out of sight from anyone on the street; your heels score lines in the dirt. You choke, wheezing on your next breath, but his arm tightens, trapping the scream in your throat. 

“Shoulda done this before,” Graves grunts, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the pair of cuffs he had tucked away. 

When he unhooks his arm from around your neck, you gasp for breath, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. Panic swirls and rises in your chest. 

“Get your hands off—” you hiss, beating his arm with your fist to no avail. He yanks your arms in front of you until your wrists are pressed close together. Your blood curdles at the feeling of cold iron against your skin and the gut-wrenching sound of handcuffs being fixed around your wrists, tightened to the point of pain. You can hardly flex your hands with how tight they’re bound. “Let me go, let ME GO—”

He pulls you in close again. “Don’t think I won’t tape your fuckin’ mouth shut too,” Graves snarls in your ear. Nausea swells in your belly. 

“Please— please don’t do this—” you beg, a sob breaking from your chest now. 

He sighs, long suffering. “Lord knows I tried to warn you.”

Despite the threat, Graves doesn’t tape your mouth shut. Instead, he fastens a rough piece of rope around your head, fitting it between your teeth like a bit. You don’t have it in you to be thankful for small mercies this time. The hemp cord scratches the corners of your mouth when you try to move your lips around it. 

“There,” he says, giving you a rough shake, satisfied. “That’s better. Can finally hear myself think.”

The tears leak out of the corners of your eyes in big, fat droplets, clouding your vision. When he wipes your cheeks with a calloused hand, the nail of his thumb catches on the delicate skin under your eye, leaving a thin cut. The pain makes you flinch, staring daggers at the man in front of you, but he doesn’t apologize for his rough handling. 

Graves heaves himself up onto the saddle first, swinging a leg over with practiced ease. You yelp when he hauls you up after, setting you on the saddle in front of him. Heat crawls up your neck when your skirt billows around your waist, horrified. 

“Save your tears, sugar,” he tells you, gathering the reins in one hand. “You’ll need ‘em for later.”

The horse whinnies when Graves pulls upward and guides him towards the road leading out of town, hooves clopping against the dirt. Your heart shoots up into your throat. 

Galloping out of town, you chance a glance back, head spinning as the world blurs around you. A man stands under the awning you just left, his head cocked as if stupefied. He’s too far away for you to get a proper look at his face though, no way to tell if he’s someone that might recognize you and alert John. You try to scream or wave your hands—anything to get his attention, to let the stranger know that something is wrong. 

You watch until the figure melds into the surrounding town. 

You keep waiting for someone to appear from behind you. A tall figure to darken the horizon, blot it like the moon passing over the sun. 

The last bastion of your hope collapses into rubble the farther away you ride, no man nor horse following you in pursuit. And then a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and wrenches your head back around, cutting off your view.

The plan is to leave the horse in the next town you reach and take a train back east. Graves would’ve done that back in the town you just left, he tells you, but he wanted to put as much distance between you and the sheriff. 

“You never know with men who’ve gotten a taste of married life,” he says when he finally deigns to stop miles from town, sitting on a rock and having a drink while he leaves you tied to the horse by your wrists. You shift from foot to foot, a cramp winding up your legs. “They get themselves a little pussy and lose all sense of dignity or morality. Can’t be trusted to do the right thing.” 

Steam practically billows out of your ears. You have the good sense to keep your mouth shut though, cognizant of the fact that you’re alone out in the middle of nowhere with a man who’d be happy to bring you back dead or alive. Though he hasn’t been quite so explicit, it’s apparent in the way he doesn’t offer to untie you or let you rest as well. The skin under the cuffs on your wrists are rubbed raw from your attempts to free yourself, and from the journey itself, with all the jostling and the persistent cramp in your right shoulder. 

The animal awareness dawns on you during that first rest. He’d taken the rope out when you were far enough outside of town that it didn’t matter if you screamed or not. That’s what stays your tongue now—the creeping notion that you are far from anyone that would be remotely sympathetic to your plight. 

“How much was the bounty?” you ask, more out of morbid curiosity than anything. You balance on one foot to shake the cramp out of the other. 

“Now, I hate to be rude, sugar, but what does it matter to you? It ain’t you collecting the reward.”

Your lips flatten into a taut line, already regretting prying. It’s not like knowing would change anything. 

The break ends sooner than you’d hoped, Graves urging you back onto the horse before taking a seat behind you. It troubles you because you’re not far enough away from town that you couldn’t still be rescued. There’d be more of a chance of John or someone else—one of his deputies, perhaps—coming across you out here. But you don’t have much of a choice. 

Out here, the land stretches on without end. Only the faint blue of a mountain ridge paralleling your route breaks the horizon. The land is flat, sparse apart from the dense shrubbery and trees twisted and bent by the wind. Cottonwood and boxelder. Chokecherry. Dogwood and hawthorn. Lush blooming saltbrush. 

The clear blue sky overhead is almost mocking, the rain from earlier long since abated. There’s hardly a cloud in the sky now. It’d be scenic if you could abstract it from the circumstances. A perfect day for gardening or a brisk walk after being kept indoors because of the rain. You’re still damp from riding through the rain earlier. 

A few bison congregate in a small dip in the terrain, grazing on the wild grass. You stare at them wide-eyed as you gallop along the upper ridge, startled by the sight of so many in one place. 

Despite the sublime beauty of the land, you remain on edge, unable to take anything in or truly enjoy it. Panic and revulsion leave you as gnarled and knotted as the krummholz trees out in the middle of the open plains. Riding with Graves feels nothing like the few times you and John shared a horse. It’s impersonal; transactional. Entirely against your will. 

The sun has only just begun to descend under the horizon when you and Graves approach a ramshackle house situated by itself in the middle of the open plains. Barely more than a barn, and long since abandoned by the looks of it. Age has done the place no favors; wooden slats sag and separate from the exterior of the house, the gaps in between the boards letting in all manner of insects and rot. 

Graves dismounts his horse about a stone’s throw from the hovel. His brow furrows with dissatisfaction as he surveys the abandoned property. 

“Shit,” he remarks, sucking his teeth. “A local back in town swore a family still lived here. Don’t look like anyone’s lived here since Abraham.”

Part of you wishes the former tenants still resided here, on the off possibility that one might take pity on you, but a much larger part of you is grateful for the dwelling’s vacancy. You’ve heard stories before, of families living out in the middle of nowhere. Rumors. Not all bad, of course; it’s common enough for families migrating west sometimes to stop along the way for a generation or two, building more permanent dwellings than the caravans they began their journey in. Many such families were also known for putting up travelers passing through in exchange for goods or help with chores. 

But you’ve also heard other stories. Like the Riley family out near Cherryvale and their homestead just off the Great Osage Trail. They lived out there for more than two decades before the number of lone travelers vanishing off the trail within walking distance of their property pointed the finger of suspicion at them. When the authorities finally got around to procuring a warrant for their property, they found the house deserted apart from the furniture that couldn’t be loaded into the wagon and an infant boy, dehydrated and petrified. 

You shake the story from your head. “…Are we spending the night here?” you ask tentatively. 

He looks at you from the corner of his eye, nostrils flared. “Don’t go gettin’ any ideas in that head of yours. Jus’ because a man’s gotta rest his eyes, don’t mean I gotta give you a peaceful night’s rest. No, I’m leavin’ those hands of yours tied.”

Your hopes deflate at that. 

He helps you dismount before hobbling his horse with a pair of leather straps around its front legs to keep it from darting off in the middle of the night. You wince sympathetically; you have more in common with a horse now than any man. 

The inside of the cabin is just as derelict as the exterior. At the very least, he feeds you. A couple scoops of pemmican straight from the tin. The fact that he insists on feeding you instead of letting you feed yourself puts you on edge. Your spine is stiff as a board through it all, your mouth barely opening up to receive the spoonful of pemmican, the metal clanking against your teeth. You wince, the sound itself tasting of rust. 

At all times, you are aware of the precarity of your situation. You can’t imagine there were any stipulations in the bounty to bring you back unscathed. Though he hasn’t tried anything untoward so far—not so much as made a licentious remark—you don’t know how long your luck will last. You flinch every time he so much as twitches in your direction, sure at any moment his mood will flip and he’ll drag you across the floor and haul himself over you. 

It’s enough to make your stomach hurt, turning over itself. He doesn’t try anything though, and for that you exhale shakily, the tension running off you in rivulets. 

One hour drags into the next. Night blackens the sky, seeping in through the crumbling walls of the cabin. 

“Well,” Graves says, wiping his hands together to dust off any lingering crumbs. “I’m gonna hit the hay.”

“Do…do I get to sleep as well?”

He cocks a brow. “Not much I can do to stop you.”

“It’s just that…” You lift your hands as you trail off, silently pointing out the handcuffs still secured around your wrists, the implicit assertion being that you won’t be able to sleep with the metal digging into the bones of your wrists. 

Graves scoffs. “You can’t think I’ll just uncuff you ‘cause we ain’t in town no more. I got a little more sense than that, sugar.”

“You could use rope instead?” you suggest. 

The seconds he spends considering it are long. You hold your breath as you watch him weigh the pros and cons. 

Finally, he shrugs. “Alright.”

The relief that washes over you is almost palpable. 

He pulls a blanket out of one of the saddlebags to function as a makeshift pillow, setting it up on the floor in the center of the room. True to his word, Graves uncuffs you and loops a double knotted rope around your wrists instead, fastening the rope tying your hands together around his own wrist. Your stomach sinks as he pulls the knot taut. 

He levels a heavy stare on you after giving the rope one last tug. “I don’t usually repeat myself, sugar, but I will this one time. Don’t go tryin’ anythin’ stupid. I’m gettin’ a good night’s rest and so help me if you wake me up—” his eyes flash, gray going steely “—you won’t like the consequences.”

You nod. Swallow back the phlegm clogging your throat. 

True night plunges the old house into darkness, cricket songs slipping in through the cracks in the walls. The temperature also plunges with the setting sun. It gets cold at night, even in the summer months; the draft makes you shiver, the rotting exterior letting in the elements. 

You keep to the wall with the least amount of rotting boards, as far as the rope tethering you to Graves will allow you to go. It would probably be in your best interest to try and get some sleep, but you’re far too restless to calm down. The atmosphere in the house is far too eerie to settle your nerves either; you can’t help but wonder about the family that must have left this place to rot and fade away into memory. 

It’s all you can do to blink back the tears that spring to your eyes when you think about the memory of you that John will have to carry into the future now that you’re gone. It isn’t fair. After everything you’ve had to endure in this lifetime, you thought maybe that this might have been your reward. That John was your reward. 

Your hands drop from your chin to your knees, hopelessness plaguing you again. The thin, sharp whistle of defeat. High and reedy as a death rattle. 

Then your eyes drop to your wrists.

The cord is fastened in a bowline knot around your wrists, difficult to undo without considerable effort, but the material is softer than the cuffs Graves had you in before, and it gives when you pull one hand down while pushing the other up. Your skin bunches around the cord, but it doesn’t cut into you the way the metal did. 

Graves is still fast asleep when you glance over at him. He doesn’t snore, but the rise and fall of his chest under the blanket is steady. Stable. 

The fatigue dissipates from your body the second you put it together. That there’s a sliver of a possibility of slipping your hands out of the rope tying you to Graves. The exhilaration is almost overwhelming. You have to sit with it a beat before acting, wary of letting your guard down too fast.

Time passes slowly as you fiddle with the knot, reaching your fingers as far as they’ll go and gritting your teeth through the ensuing cramp in your wrist. You nearly groan in frustration when your hand twitches and you accidentally retighten the knot. A near crushing blow. 

Please, you mouth more than whisper, frustrated tears clumped in your lashes. Teeth sinking into the flesh of your bottom lip, pinching off the wail rising up your throat. 

Your heart skips a beat when the rope loosens around one of your wrists, enough for you to wiggle a pinkie underneath and slowly shimmy it up the length of your hand. A cramp makes your pinkie spasm, almost causing you to lose your grip. Sweat pools in the cup of your palm. 

When your wrists are finally free, the rope clutched in trembling hands and the basal joint of your thumb scrapped raw from the fibrous rope, you can only sit there, heart beating wildly in your chest. You have to force yourself to remain calm, wary of waking Graves up after all that effort. His eyelids quiver only with his dreams though. 

You glance towards the door on the other side of the cabin. It seems either farther away now that you know it’s within reach. You know better than to just run straight for it though. Weeks of being on the run before finding John have taught you to pace yourself, to push down the fluttering evocation in your chest to make a mad dash for the closest way out. 

Instead, you take a deep breath out, closing your eyes until you’ve calmed down. Then you rise slowly to your feet. 

Your eyes, having long since adjusted to the darkness, scan the room for any loose floorboards. Aside from one obvious corner of the house which has begun to rot away and collapse, it’s hard for you to discern at a glance which boards will groan under the weight of your feet. You have no choice but to guess.

Each step has you on edge, heart in your throat. Your focus shifts quicksilver between the floor and Graves. Waiting for any sudden movement. 

Halfway to the door, you take another cautious step forward and the floorboard creaks under your foot. Your heart stops, eyes flitting instantly over to Graves’ sleeping form. He doesn’t so much as shift. It’s another beat before you’re able to move again, confidence shaken by the noise. You keep imagining him suddenly shooting up from the floor, pistol in hand, the hammer striking the primer, the hiss of gas escaping the barrel. 

The door gives a faint creak when you push it open, so you open it only enough for your body to slip through, wincing when you twitch and accidentally push it open another inch, dragging out the creak. Still, he doesn't wake. You slip past the door, shutting it quietly behind you.  

The moon glows cornsilk gold in the sky. A vast, uncharted land stretches out around you, untouched by human hands, or so changed over the years that any human presence has long since been buried beneath the loam. But when you stare out into the distance, you realize that you have no idea where you came from. Everything looks the same in each direction, no landmark familiar enough for you to orient yourself. You’re out in the middle of nowhere and nothing looks right. 

If you had less strength, you’d fall to your knees. The despair is so immense that you hardly have the strength to hold it all at once. 

The silence lulls you into a false sense of security. You linger for too long, stuck contemplating your options. Coyotes yip in distant packs, their barks carrying across the plains. You shiver at the sound. It reminds you again that you’re on your own now. No husband to come chasing after you if things get sticky. 

Your first few steps away from the cabin are tentative, gliding your legs through the grass and staring up at the cornsilk moon. A combination of indulgence and bewilderment. If you knew the right way home, you wouldn’t waver, but these days, you have no faith in your instincts. They’ve only ever led you off course. 

The gelding that Graves rode in on sits in the grass with its hind legs folded underneath it. With its legs still hobbled, you know removing the leather will take more time than you'd like, but you figure it'll be easier to make your way across the plains on horseback, with the added bonus of leaving Graves stranded. If God were just, he’d starve out here and leave his corpse for the coyotes to feast on. 

You approach the horse cautiously, conscious not to make any sudden movements. Its ears angle towards you as you draw near. Attentive to your presence. 

“Hey there, honey,” you whisper, reaching out a hand and trying to show that you aren’t a threat. Its nose twitches.

Another step forward. Easy does it. One leg in front of the other.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” You try to mirror your memory of John in your voice, honeysuckle soft words. 

You aren’t John though. Not even close. You take another step towards it.

It brays when you get too close, skittish. The sound pierces through the night, louder than the coyotes in the distance. Louder even than the creaking door.  

The hair on the back of your neck raises, lips numb. Then the prickling awareness of movement in the house, like an itch on a phantom limb. 

Behind you, the door to the cabin bursts open with a bang, slamming off the wall and ricocheting back. You whip your head around to look only to find Graves’ towering form under the shadow of the doorway, his hair mused and clothes askew. And he looks enraged. 

“Hey!” Graves bellows from the doorway, breaking into a run towards you. “Get back here!”

There’s no time to sit with the regret, no time to bemoan the fact that you didn’t exercise enough caution, that for some reason without a gun leveled at your head, you allowed yourself to forget the very real danger this man posed to you. 

All you can do is run.

The grass whistles around you. You run so hard that your lungs burn, your arms pumping furiously beside you, dress swishing between your legs. You don’t have to look behind you to know that Graves is gaining on you. His body is built for pursuit. Still, you push yourself past your breaking point, not stopping even when you taste blood in your mouth. Mindless; directionless. No idea where you’re going—just away from him. You’d jump off a cliff if you came across one. 

He’s close enough for you to hear now, heavy breathing right behind you. But by then it’s too late. A heavy body rams into you, sending you careening towards the earth, the ground rushing up to meet you halfway. The dirt hardly cushions the blow. 

You hit the ground hard. Head knocked loose of thought, agony ripping across your face. The double blow of a body heavier than yours forcing you into the dirt, so solid that it crushes the breath from your lungs. 

Blood leaks from your lip, most likely split. When you breathe in to fill your lungs, you taste dirt and rust and earth. 

“Insufferable bitch,” Graves snarls, putrid breath wafting under your nose and making your eyes water. He grabs a handful of your hair and wrenches your head up before slamming it back down. Something crunches. Distantly, you wonder if your nose is broken. 

Your ears ring, the rest of his words drowned out by the blood rushing to your face. 

“Please—” you beg, blood dripping from your split lip. 

“Knew I shouldn’ta trusted you—conniving little cunt—c’mere now, get up—”

He rises to his feet over your body, big hand curling around your wrist. You hear your shoulder pop when he yanks your arm behind your back. A rush of cold. A sweat breaks on the nape of your neck. Shock sets in the moment after, adrenaline flooding your body. 

Then a sharp, focused surge of pain. It radiates from your shoulder outward, so intense that you can’t believe it at first. Your whole world reduces down to it. Feathering out down your back; irradiating waves of it. Thoughts scattering and then coming back together around the pain. If you scream, it comes out unbidden. 

“Ah, hell, I didn’t mean to do that,” he grumbles from behind you, likely staring at the unnatural jut of your shoulder. “Alright, sugar, one second—I’ll pop that back in.”

“Nononono—” you gasp, panic lancing through you, but he pays no attention to your words. 

The pain of popping your shoulder back in is excruciating. Relief follows shortly after, but the time between dislocating and relocating your shoulder is so short that it hardly comes as a balm to the pain.

“You…bastard…” you gasp. 

“Wouldn’ta had to do that if you hadn’t run,” he sighs, the sight of your pain subduing his rage. 

It doesn’t stop him from grabbing you roughly by the arm he just dislocated when he finally gets you on your feet though, steering you back towards the house. The pain that radiates up your arm is almost blinding. 

He drags you back to the cabin with a punishing grip. There’s no sympathy when you stumble. Moonlight illuminates the path back to the cabin and shows you the trenches in the wild grass made by your feet. Hardly more than a couple rods. 

The defeat that courses through you upon being dragged through the ramshackle front door is ten times that of earlier. When he lets go of your arm, you collapse in a heap on the floor, aching and sweating. A bag of bones and blood. You’d rattle if someone shook you. 

“I hate you,” you mumble from your spot on the floor, shaking through the pain. “Rot in hell.”

Graves doesn’t respond, but you can almost hear the way he grins.  

No rest for the wicked or the good this time. Graves wakes intermittently throughout the night to check up on you, wary now that you’ve tried to run. Your regret is palpable. You should’ve waited. Bided your time. There won't be another chance now, not after you played your hand so soon. 

The ache in your shoulder keeps you from finding sleep. Every time you get close to it, the pain radiates down your arm and it slips from your grasp, your hand closing around the empty space it leaves behind. Teeth grit, breathing through the pain. Loosening your jaw and panting because the pain overwhelms you when you so much as shift onto your side, the hard floor digging into your elbow. 

Right on the edge of sleep, just as you're about to latch on, a boot catches you in the ribs, jostling you back into the realm of pain. You wheeze, breaking into a coughing fit. 

“Get up,” a hoarse voice grunts above you, empty of sympathy. “We got places to be.”

He has the two of you back on the horse as soon as dawn breaks. Your escape attempt the night before must have spooked him, and you regret it now in the light of day because you know he won’t let you out of his sight again. The metal handcuffs digging into your wrists assures you of that. 

There’s no time for breakfast or time to wash up. Graves makes it a point to be back on the road as fast as possible, repacking his bedroll and stuffing it back in the saddlebag before dragging you up with him. 

The pain is a dull throb after sleeping most of the agony away. It comes back when you move too quickly though, which is hard to avoid on horseback when each gallop echoes through your sore bones and joints. 

The arching sun immixes with the heavens above, rising higher as the hours pass. You ache for a hat; something to keep the heat of the sun off your head. On the horizon, the mountain ridge sits like a spine bursting out from the earth. It’s all wastelands and portents. Evil omens. 

Your heart feels swollen and bruised, like something trampled under elk hooves. 

“Cheer up,” Graves says, tipping your chin up when the sun reaches its peak around midday, the gesture making you so uncomfortable that you almost shudder out of your skin. Your face still throbs with pain. “You should be glad I didn’t jus’ shoot you.”

Your lips pull back, baring your teeth to nothing. 

A shot rips through the air at that, his words commanding it into being. Your head instinctively ducks and even the horse under you staggers, spooked by the sound. Graves curses, tensing up behind you.

"What in the hell—"

You whip your head around to stare behind you, looking for the source of the gunfire. When you find it, your eyes widen.

[viasdiary]

☆ jerk with benefits (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 1.8k

☆ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, hate-sex dynamic

☆ conceited frat luigi clashes with a stubborn main character, but they have insane sexual chemistry.

you’d been hooking up with luigi for a few weeks now, and honestly, the more time you spent with him, the more he got under your skin. his smug smirk, his stupid one-liners—everything about him was insufferable. you couldn’t stand luigi mangione. but, god, the sex? that was the only thing that made it even remotely worth it.

it had been one of those days. everyone was getting on your nerves, you had so much fucking work to do, and quite frankly you didnt have it in you to do much of anything.

even though you were at your wits end, you still found yourself outside luigi's chapter house, your hands tucked in the pockets of your navy blue sweats. if this was what it took to relieve your stress, then so be it.

you walk up to the door and knock a couple times.

luigi answers the door and the warm afternoon light highlights the curls in his dark hair. his broad chest is on display as he stands shirtless, his grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, revealing the elastic band of his boxers.

a wide conceited grin spreads across his face as he studies you.

“just couldn't get enough of me, huh?” he teases.

“can i come in? it's fucking freezing.” you reply, unamused.

he moves out of your way as you push past him into the house.

the usual beer cans and pizza boxes are scattered in the kitchen. he walks behind you as you find your way to his room down the hall.

you enter luigi's room, the familiar scent of his cologne hitting your nose. without a word, you turn to face him, your eyes meeting his dark, intense gaze. the tension between you is palpable, a mix of contempt and visceral attraction.

luigi closes the door behind him as you take a seat on the bed, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. he sits next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

"rough day?" he asks, his voice still as smug as ever.

you roll your eyes, not in the mood for his stupid small talk.

"shut up." you reply, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him close.

his lips press into yours, hungry and demanding. your fingers tangle in his curls as his large hands roam your body, slipping under your sweater to caress your skin, feeling your bare waist.

the kiss deepens, and you feel the stress of the day melting away. you part your lips as you pull away and whisper

“y’know, you’re so nice when you’re not fucking talking.”

luigi chuckles against your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

"and you're so much nicer when you’re not complaining," he retorts, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly.

you bite back a moan as he trails kisses along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot on your neck. your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging slightly as he nips at your skin. you’d been craving this all day. as much as you couldn’t stand him, the feeling of his body against yours, your lips interlocked, it all just felt so right.

your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his muscular back as luigi's lips continue their assault on your neck. you can feel the heat building between you, your body responding to his touch despite your best efforts to resist.

"god, i fuckin' hate you," you mutter, even as you tilt your head to give him better access.

luigi chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine.

"feeling's mutual, sweetheart," he murmurs, his hands sliding under your sweater to caress your bare skin.

in one swift motion, he pulls your sweater over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. his eyes rake over your body, that cocky smirk still playing on his lips.

"but i gotta say, you look so good like this."

you roll your eyes, grabbing his face and pulling him in for another agressive kiss. your teeth clash as you kiss him roughly, pouring all your frustration and desire into it. luigi responds with equal fervor, his hands roaming your body, traveling between your shoulders and unhooking your bra, letting it fall onto the bed.

you push him down onto the bed, straddling his hips as you break the kiss. looking down at him, you can't help but admire how good he looks - his curls mussed, lips swollen, eyes dark with lust.

"shut up and fuck me already," you say impatiently, grinding down against him.

luigi's hands grip your waist tightly, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

"so demanding," he teases, but there's a strain in his voice that betrays his own need.

in one fluid motion, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him. his weight presses you into the mattress as

his lips crash into yours once more, hungry and insistent. his hands roam your body, caressing and teasing as he grinds against you. the friction sends waves of pleasure through you, making you arch into him.

luigi's mouth trails down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. you know he's leaving marks, but you're too far gone to care. his lips move lower, kissing along your collarbone and down to your breasts. when his mouth closes around your nipple, you can't hold back the moan that escapes you.

"fuck, luigi," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his curls.

you feel him smirk against your skin before he switches to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. his hand slides down your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your sweats. when his fingers brush against your sensitive core, you gasp and arch into his touch. luigi groans against your skin, feeling how ready you are for him.

"so wet for me already," he murmurs, his voice low and gentle. "and you say you hate me."

you tug sharply on his hair in retaliation, eliciting a groan from him.

"i already told you- just fuck me already," you demand breathlessly.

luigi doesn't need to be told twice. he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. as you kick them off, he begins to remove his own sweatpants, his erection springing free.

he settles back between your legs, teasing your wet cunt with the tip of his cock. you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he resists.

"tell me how much you fuckin' want me, how much you need me” luigi breathes against your ear, his voice husky with desire.

you groan in frustration, digging your nails into his back.

"fuck you," you spit out, even as your hips move upwards, seeking friction.

he chuckles darkly. "that's the idea, amore. but i wanna hear you say it."

his teasing is maddening, the tip of his cock sliding through your wet folds but never quite entering you. you're so wound up, so desperate for release, that you're willing to swallow your pride - just this once.

"fine," you sigh, your voice thick with need. "i want you. i need you inside me right fucking now. happy?"

luigi's smirk widens. "ecstatic," he taunts, and in one smooth thrust, he buries himself deep inside you.

you both groan at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. he stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his forehead resting against yours. then he starts to move, setting a relentless pace that has you gasping and clawing at his muscular back.

the room fills with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your moans and luigi's grunts. he angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust.

"fuck, you feel so good baby," luigi groans against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. his pace quickens, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

you're lost in the sensations - the fullness of him inside you, the friction of his body against yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. as much as you hate to admit it, no one else has ever made you feel this good. him stretching you open like this is hard to manage.

“luigi, it‘s too much,” you whine, feeling him deep inside you. but even as you say it, your body betrays you, arching into him, craving more.

he exhales heavily, his lips brushing your ear.

"i don’t fuckin' care." his hips snap forward, driving into you harder. "i think you can take more, amore. i think you want more."

you bite back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. but god, he feels so good inside you, filling you completely. your nails dig into his back as you feel the tension building inside you, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

luigi's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. he has you gasping, your hips moving wildly against him as you cry out his name desperately.

"i thought you wanted this, baby. thought you needed me to fuck you."

his words, combined with the torturously slow drag of his cock inside you, make you whimper. you're so close, teetering on the edge of pleasure so intense it's almost painful.

"i do," you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. "don't stop. please, luigi, i'm so close."

he continues relentlessly, picking up the pace once more, his fingers still roughly moving against your clit. the added stimulation has you arching off the bed, a cry of pleasure ripping from your throat.

"that's it," luigi encourages, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "cum for me, amore. let me feel you."

his words push you over the edge. your orgasm crashes over you in waves of intense pleasure, your body shuddering beneath him as you cry out his name. your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper.

luigi groans, his hips moving erratically as your climax triggers his own. he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he finishes. you feel the warmth of his release filling you, prolonging your own pleasure.

for a moment, you both lie there, panting and intertwined. luigi's weight presses you into the mattress, his face buried in the crook of your neck. you can feel his heart racing against your chest, matching your own rapid heartbeat.

finally, luigi lifts his head, meeting your gaze with that stupid smirk of his.

"still hate me?"

[moonlight-prose]

since you kindly offered this brilliant piece I have a thot for you. giving logan nasty nasty head as he’s trying to eat dinner 🤭

note: i sat with this for several hours after we hung up and i could not get it out of my head. he's a munch. we know this. it's a fact (disney grow some balls and say it outloud). but my god is he a whore for some good head. give him sloppy toppy and he's wrapped around your finger; he's yours, ready to put a ring on it and drag you to the courthouse himself.

Dinner is a quiet affair in the Howlett household. It's mixed with soft conversation and intimate jokes. Comments about your days, hands held over the table as candle wax dripped over the yellowed cloth. It's warm - domestic.

But on nights when adrenaline ran a bit too high and wine began to drip heat down your spine, you found that you couldn't resist the pull of him.

He sat in his usual chair, legs spread and eyes tracking your movements as you left the kitchen. A bottle of wine in one hand, his whiskey in the other.

His grin is soft. A docile man who'd been tamed by the lover he never expected. And you can feel the heat begin to curl around your stomach. Tugging on the nerves that thrummed beneath your skin. He'd never realize how far gone you were for him; how every move and choice depended on whether or not he'd smile your way.

"Smells good sweetheart." His voice is low, the grit of husk behind each lilted drawl.

You could feel warmth flicker to life beneath the supple skin of your cheeks as his gaze continued to track how you sat in your chair. Eyes dragging down the figure clad a t-shirt that had seen better days and jeans with a gaping hole in the knee.

There was no denying you dressed for comfort. Logan still felt his cock stiffen at the sight of you in dark washed denim though.

The smile is pulled from the depths of your chest. "I couldn't decide what to make."

You know you sound flustered. You know your voice is higher than normal.

You know he caught it by the sharp glint of his teeth poking through an already crooked smile.

"I'll eat anythin' you make," he admits with a soft clack of his fork tapping his plate.

The double meaning isn't lost on you. In fact it shoots a hole right through your chest, floods your body with that syrupy thick heat that you feel drip down to the tips of your fingers. His nostrils flare - eyes glancing down to the table that covers your lap - before he's filling his mouth with food.

Honestly you can't even recall how it happened. The entire ordeal a hazy cloud of lust that had you slipping out of your seat, and dropping to your knees beneath the table. His eyes went wide as your hands pushed at his legs, forcing them to spread. And when he made no move to stop you, the rest clicked into place with ease.

Logan smells of his cigar he smoked after work. He smells of spice and the musk of sweat and leather from his jackets that hung in the hall closet.

He is everything you could possibly want in a husband. Everything you asked for checked off with a flourished hand and a welcomed smile.

"Baby what-" He chokes on his food when your hands undo his belt, the button of his jeans, and pull him free with a choked whine. "Oh fuck."

That. That's what you were looking for after a day filled with his absence. The stifled moan at the back of his throat when your tongue licked up his cock - whining when the taste of him burst across your taste buds. You couldn't deny yourself him when he let you suck on the head, spit trailing down your chin and into his lap.

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, fingers tightening around his fork, and it isn't until you've got him halfway down your throat does he understand what you want.

The clink of metal scratching porcelain sends heat down your spine. He moans around a mouthful of food as your head bobs, mouth sucking him in deeper, further, until he hits the back of your throat and makes you gag.

"You're fuckin' filthy for me aren't ya," he mutters, thumb rubbing into your skin. "Makin' me eat while you get dinner of your own."

Your eyes roll back, pussy clenching down hard around nothing. Because fuck he's right. You'd stay on your knees until pain flared up. You'd keep him down your throat until you lost the ability to speak.

You'd suck him dry morning, noon, and night to hear the noises that slipped past his lips.

"'M gonna give you want ya want baby," he grunts.

His hips rock up off the chair, hand pushing your head down further until your nose was buried in the dark hair tinged with the musky scent of him. It's wet and messy and spit has formed into globs that roll down the expanse of your throat.

You're so far gone all you can do is give a choked moan, body trembling as your lungs screamed for air.

That's the fucked up part though. You'd die on his cock if it meant getting to please him.

He cums with a harsh snap of your name, chest heaving and plate long forgotten. Shudders roll down your spine, slick pooling between your thighs as he spurts down your throat. Spilling out the sides of your mouth.

"Eat your dinner sweetheart so I can have some fuckin' desert."

[whimsicalpolitical]

Use me - Matty Healy x Reader

in which you always come to matty when your boyfriend doesn’t get you off

content warning: 18+mdni, smut, p in v, cheating, face sitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, handjob, aftercare,

“Sorry, where you uhm, going somewhere?” You ask Matty, pointing to his loosened tie and shirt.

“Nah, came back from dinner,” your eyes shoot up at his face. Dinner sounds romantic. He sees right through you though and eases your nerves, “dinner with my mates, love.”

You nod, taking another sip of your hot tea which matty brought you five minutes after banging on his door in the middle of the night.

“D’you need something else?” He asks, “anything at all?”

“No, thank you,” you smile, sinking deeper into the couch, hoping you could stay here forever.

Matty hums and sits next to you, at the end of the couch. He’s throwing his head back slowly, rubbing his forehead.

You watch. You trace the vein under his neck until it disappears into his shirt. His tousled hair reminds you of all the times you tugged at his curls because it was too much. Fuck. You’re still sticky between your legs. You were not able to chase your own pleasure because it doesn’t matter to your boyfriend, it never did and it never will.

Matty always gives a shit, perhaps that’s why you’re here, because you know you’ll feel good. Or maybe you’re here because he shows you an escape from the reality and he’s the only one who has that ability.

“Do I have something on my face?” He jokes, his eyes on you.

You shake your head, “no, it’s perfect as always.”

“Charmer.” Matty spreads his legs further and turns to you, “now, would you like to talk about why you came to mine at two in the morning or should we skip that part where you tell me your little boy isn’t enough for you?”

“Matty-“ you tilt your head and want to apologize, that you’re not using him for your own good but to tell him you enjoy his company.

“Actually, I would like to know what happened this time. Couldn’t he make you finish or did he not care in the first place, c’mon what was it?”

You sigh before locking eyes with him. The brown eyes you can’t stop thinking about. Ever.

“The second,” you respond with shame, “but I don’t care anymore, I just want you, can’t stop thinking about you.”

Matty lets a laugh slip out of his mouth before he moves closer to you, taking your legs and dragging them across his lap.

“Oh, darling, that’s a fucked up situation you’re in, s’ a real shame though- for him I mean.”

His hands are going up and down your thighs, teasing you, making you go crazy.

“What did you say to him ‘fore you left, sure didn’t say you were going to see me.”

You shrug, “told him I need to get work done, I guess.”

Matty hums, his hands now closer to the place you want him the most.

His knuckles brush against your lower stomach which is on display because your shirt had risen up. He sends goosebumps down your body at the feeling of his warm hands on your bare body and you want nothing but to feel them everywhere.

Matty wants to be close to you as well so he takes the opportunity and drags you onto his lap with his arms under your knees.

You don’t have time to make a sound because his mouth is on you again.

You part your lips willingly, gasping when he lurches forward and slides his tongue along yours, biting and sucking at your lips. Matty groans softly at the faint noises you make, your fingers tightening in his hair, the pleasing sting in his scalp sending jolts down to his hard cock.

“mmm matty” You’re panting, desperate for air he won't give you. He likes this—making you gasp, making you weak, making you forget entirely about your boyfriend.

Your hips move over his’ one slow time, gasping at the friction.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grips your hips and drags you across his bulge again, enjoying the pleasure himself, “is’ good?”

“Yeah-“ you breathe out, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, his hands finding his way to your ass.

“Matty-“ you gasp, as his jeans hit your clit over and over. You can’t wait, it’s impossible. You tried all night to chase your pleasure but how, if your boyfriend stops when he’s done and doesn’t help you.

“Please, can we-“

Matty is quick to lay you down on the couch, dragging your jeans with your panties down your legs. He shakes his head though when he throws your jeans down the couch.

“I don’t want you to beg, alright? M’sure you’ve done enough of that tonight. I just want you to use me, make yourself feel good, the way you deserve.”

You bite down on to your bottom lip, nodding.

“Want to kiss you here first, that alright?” He asks, spreading your legs with his hand.

“Fuck- yes.”

“Mhm,” he leans down, eyes looking up at you one more time before his gaze fixates on your dripping cunt.

"Fuckin' christ. You're a mess down here. You really tried, hm?” he says, and you can feel every word blow against you.

"Uh-huh," you say, a kiss sucked to your thigh striking stealing all thought from your mind.

"Get close?" he asks, with another kiss, hands kneading at your thighs and ass as they wrap around you and try to tug you closer.

You nod, hoping he can see you as your eyes slip closed with the feeling of him right here, between your legs.

“That’s fucking cruel though,” he chuckles, “fucking dickhead, would make you come everyday for the rest of my bloody life.”

He bites the inside of your thighs until you feel a soft, teasing kiss to your clit. You shudder and whine and your hand falls to his curls to encourage him to give you more.

“Please just-“

“Darling, ease up, like I said, use me, c’mon let’s switch places.”

You frown, not knowing what he actually means but it gets clear when Matty shoves a pillow under his head and you straddle him but he tugs you up his chest.

“Wait-“ you slow him down, “shirt off?”

“Sure,” he says, opening the four buttons that were closed, “now.. up.”

He's licking his lips and looking up at you - all over every inch of you - eating you alive with his stare.

He pushes and pulls you then, dragging you up his chest until your knees are settled either side of his face. You can feel the gust of his breath against your thighs iust before he hauls you forward a little more until his half face is completely covered by your cunt, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose visible now.

“Fuck, love, need me so bad you’re dripping down your thighs. I’m not making you wait, sit down, darling.”

“That’s it.” You settle down slowly onto his face, listening as he guides you down until you feel the first broad swipe of his tongue up through your folds.

"Perfect,” he says, swallowing the taste of you.

He kisses around your clit, nudging it with the curved tip of his nose when he finally licks up into you again.

And then, he's pulling your flush to his face and feasting.

The noise that leaves you is stupid. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a question all at once. His nose is pressed against you, his laughter fanning out across your mound as you try not to squirm and wiggle against him, fearful of crushing his head beneath your weight, or at the very least suffocating him.

His face burrows deeper, his hands holding you firm, squeezing and scraping calloused fingertips against your delicate skin.

His hands move from anchoring you to his face, locked around your thighs, to pressing against your ass, gripping the globes of them in each of his broad hands.

He grunts, squeezing your thighs up to your hips as he pulls your clit into his mouth, lathering it with his spit and your wetness. It's white-hot: the pressure on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, the insistent bump of his nose against your clit as he teases his tongue around your tight hole.

"Matty, Matty, fuck," is all you can manage, sweet little gasps that he drinks in, his hips bucking involuntarily with the delicious pain of your fingers pulling at his scalp. You're losing grip on the real world and slipping elsewhere, and he wants to get you there.

One of Matty’s hands slides between your legs, easing them open even more, and rests on your belly, shifting to your ribcage and helping you steady yourself atop him. His fingertips graze your breasts under your shirt.

“Mhmm, fuck, perfect,” he mumbles.

The sounds are slick and obscene, mingled with your drunken sighs and words of encouragement as you curl your fingers against the couch uselessly.

"Matty,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face, “so good, shit.”

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly.

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly. He'll imprint the feeling of him on your skin forever-if he hasn't already. He'll make sure you never have another man like you have him.

"I'm... oh, fuck, I'm gonna..." Your hips buck wildly, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you steadfast and firm to his face. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and fixes his tongue to you, wiggling slightly as he feels you stiffen above him. "Matty, shit.”

He knows. You're already coming. You’re both not surprised, you’ve been trying the whole evening and the orgasm that’s been stolen is now more than back.

“Yeah, like that, darling,” he praises, lapping at your cunt in the same pace.

Your hand leaves his hair and braces next to your other one on the couch, ensuring you don't fall over as your thighs shake uncontrollably and your mouth drops open in a keening whine. Matty keeps sucking at your clit long after your orgasm fades and you cry out from the overstimulation.

Gently, you reach down to tug his hair, and he reluctantly pulls away. He's so hard he can't conjure much mental activity besides getting his dick wet.

“Alright?” He asks with a big grin on his face.

“More than,” you respond.

Your chest is heaving as you try to pick your leg up and get off him, but your strength fails you. Instead, Matty grabs your hips and sits up, your cunt sliding down to sit on top of his erection. Experimentally, you grind down on him, watching a muscle in his jaw feather.

"Need you. Are you going to let me take your pants off?" you ask him, teasing, your finger tracing the metal of his belt buckle.

He grits his teeth, letting you take control for a moment, sliding the belt achingly slow out of each loop.

“Do anything you want to, you’re in control. Don’t need to act all modest with me.”

You dip your body low to his chest and press gentle kisses all the way down to his stomach.

Matty moans brokenly when you shuck his jeans down his legs and squeeze his hard length before it can slap up against his stomach. Your tongue darts out and licks up the precum pooling at his slit, making his cock twitch in your grasp. “jesus,” he groans. “You don’t have to, darling, you can make this all about yourself.”

You ignore him.

Your soft lips part around the throbbing head of his cock. Squeezing his strong thighs to ground yourself, you swirl your tongue around the tip and take him deeper, your throat expanding to accommodate him in your mouth. Your thumb rubs over his ‘we are kings’ tattoo like you always do, you look at him as you do so. His eyes are watery, blinking hard to expel the tears, his hand instinctively cradling the crown of your head to keep you on him, keep you choking around him.

“Christ, fuck,—” His fingers curl in your hair and gently urge you off his cock; you pout, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. His dick jumps at the sight, lying hard on his stomach.

“Don’t pout, don’t need to come in your gorgeous mouth if you want me again,” he rasps.

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes but of course you listen and crawl up his body until your hips are flush, his hardness slotted, thick and throbbing, between your folds. The hum that leaves your mouth is wanton, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. His hands move to your lower back, digging into the flesh just above your ass so you’re forced to roll your hips along his shaft.

“Have at it, darling,” he says.

You lift yourself up but instead of sinking down you take his cock into your hand and start moving up and down.

Matty shudders and grips your wrist, “fuckin, d’you want to kill me?”

You only giggle and shake your head innocently, “want you to fuck me now, I’ve been good.”

“Yeah, you reckon you are?” he reaches down, his hands going to your hips and guiding you down onto him. You both let out a moan as he fills you, the sensation almost overwhelming.

“You feel so good, love,” he breathes, looking down at where his cock disappears, “want you all the time n’ I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being with him.”

You look at each other, pupils dilated, mouths parted. You don’t move, not just yet, but you lean forward to crash your lips against Matty’s as a response.

Your hand grips the back of his neck to keep him exactly where he is, his tongue gliding across yours, filthy sounds coming from the both of you when you finally start to move.

“Yeah- fuck, you’re so good.”

You can feel his gaze on you, and it only served to heighten the pleasure building inside you. You start to ride him properly, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, his grip almost painful as he struggles to maintain control. The sounds he is making are sinful, the low moans and gasps escaping his lips spurring you on.

“Oh fuck, Matty,” you moan, “you make me feel so good.”

“Y-yeah?” He gasps, his thumb coming down your body to rub your clit in a torturous, slow pace, wanting to build the pressure, “s’ what I want, babe, need you to feel good.”

You moan again when he lowers his face to kiss you all over your breasts, sucking and biting at your nipple, offering you another way of stimulation.

“Need you, Matty, need you,” you repeat, your head falling against his shoulder while you keep your pace, your hips moving up and down.

“You have me, love,” he groans, moving his thumb a bit faster.

You clench around him and he can’t help himself but thrust into you so deep it makes you scream his name so loud you thank yourself he doesn’t have neighbors.

“Keep doin’ that,” he moans, “fuck.”

“Please,” you beg, just wanting to come with him all together, “Matty please.”

“I’ve got you,” he says, his brown eyes melting when he sees your fucked out face, “wanna come so badly again? Couldn’t feel good all evening and you need me for it?”

“Yes,” you admit, your hips slowing down, not having the energy like you had in the beginning, “fuck- I can’t.”

Matty hums and grips your hips, helping you to ride him faster, “like that, s’good, rub your clit for me though.”

You don’t waist a second and start as fast as when he stopped.

“Fuck, matty.”

“You’re perfect,” he says, moving his hips with yours, doubling the pleasure, “I- fuck, are you close?”

You know he is. His thrusts are faltering, eyes closed, head thrown back, his hands definitely bruising you but you don’t care. You want him to mark you. And honestly you couldn’t care less, not when you’re at the edge, letting yourself fall into him completely.

You clench around him again, a sign that you are close.

“Kiss me,” you whine, “plea-“

He does, it’s not a perfect, sweet kiss. He’s moaning against you, lips messily on yours, licking into your mouth as you both move together.

"You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you're worthless."

Matty’s mouth is everywhere-his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous," he groans, “fucks sake, my girl.”

He spurs you on and you can’t go any longer.

“Matty, im gonna come, can I- fuck.”

You whimper, your body trembling as the pleasure mounts, your mind going blank as Matty’s cock slams into you harder, deeper. Your hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours-it is too much, and you feel yourself spiraling toward release.

"You don’t need to ask for permission, are you mental?" he laughs, “come for me, love, whenever you want to.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snaps, and you scream his name as your orgasm tears through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as he groans deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, your hips slowing down as his hips slam into you one strong time, releasing in you with a whimper, groan and moan, “jesus fucking christ.”

You whine, only grinding softly against him until you’re both too fucking exhausted to move.

You stay like this though- with him softening inside of you until he accidentally slips out making the both of you hiss.

“I really really like you,” you say, not being able to lift your forehead from his shoulder just yet, “I swear I’m not using you for this.”

“It’s alright,” he soothes you, hand brushing through your hair, “I’m the last to judge, m’just glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

After a long while Matty decides to lift you up, keeping your legs wrapped around him. You whine at the new coldness, air hitting your naked form.

“I’ll just need to clean you up, darling, you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum holding on to him, “bed though, please?”

“Course,” he says, pushing the door with his foot softly that leads you into his bedroom, “I’ll be right back then.”

He lays you down softly but before he can walk to the bathroom you pull him down, holding his face to give him a sweet kiss.

He’s kissing all over your face then, asking you multiple times if you need anything, praises leaving his mouth, “you’ve done so good, love, going to let me get you a towel?”

“Fine,” you groan, rolling your eyes and pushing him away.

While he waddles over to the bathroom, slipping a pair of boxers on while doing so, you get yourself a piece of clothing as well. A simple black shirt from Matty’s drawer.

You flop down onto the bed then and not even a minute later he’s back, a wet towel in his hand and a lotion.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, kneeling on the edge of the bed and spreading your legs, “it’s what you deserve.”

You can’t help but smile at his sweetness, letting him drag the towel up your thighs to your core, hissing at the soreness.

“M’sorry,” he apologizes, being as careful as he can be, “even used warm water, thought it would be more pleasant than cold.”

“It’s alright,” you nod, “thank you.”

His brows are furrowed in that intense way of his, and you are lost, as always, in the precision of it all — how someone so careless about most things could be so careful with you.

When he finally sets the towel aside, his hands replace it, gliding along your thigh with a gentle grip. He reaches for the lotion he brought, squeezing a bit into his hand before warming it between his fingers. The scent is faint, familiar, like something he’d chosen just for you, and he slowly works it into your skin, thumbs pressing softly in circles along the tops of your legs.

You hum, a sound low in your throat, and he glances up at you, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Feel good, love?"

You nod, letting your head rest back on the pillows, eyes drifting shut as his hands continue their slow, steady rhythm.

"Matty?"

"Yeah?"

There is a pause, the silence stretching as you weigh the words you’re holding back. You swallow, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest before you finally let them go. "I think I want to break up with him."

For the first time that night, his hands still, his fingers still warm against your skin as he looks up, his gaze locking onto yours, eyes dark and searching. "You sure?" he asks, voice rough but soft. "I mean… I’d definitely drop that wanker if I were you. But… are you sure?"

You nod, your own voice quieter than you expected. "Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t…" you hesitate, trying to find the right words, "I don’t feel right with him. He’s a selfish bastard, Matty. Only cares about himself. Never really… I don’t know. Not like you do."

The corner of his mouth lifts, just a hint of satisfaction, but he covers it with a quick raise of his brow, setting the lotion bottle aside.

"About time, I’d say. I mean, you deserve better than some bloke who’s all talk and no bloody follow-through." He moves closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. "What kind of idiot would treat you like that? He’s the one who’s missing out.”

"Yeah… I just kept thinking things would get better, you know? Like maybe I was the problem."

Matty’s scoff is loud, dismissive, and his hand finds yours, fingers threading through yours with a surprising softness.

"Nah, not a chance. Don’t you dare let him put that on you. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever walked into his life, and if he was too stupid to see that? Then he deserves what he gets." His fingers squeeze yours, grounding and reassuring. "But you already know that. Just needed a little push?”

You nod, squeezing back. "Guess so."

He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your face as he tilts his head.

“You shouldn’t be with someone who’s not good for you, you know?”

You nod, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and pull him up by his biceps, “you’re right, and that’s why I’m here.”

Matty gets the hint immediately, letting himself be drawn up until he’s lying half on top of you, chest pressing against yours, his weight warm and solid as he settles against you. His head dips down, burying into the crook of your neck, and he lets out a soft, contented sigh, his breath warm against your skin.

“Been wanting this all day,” he murmurs, his voice a little rough, like he’s barely holding back some deeper feeling. “Just you, here with me. None of that rubbish, none of him messing with your head. Just us.

You hum, the sound vibrating in your chest as you feel him relax against you, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair, brushing it back from your face with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through you.

“Can I bring you anything? Water? Tea? Anything you need, just say the word.”

You smile, shaking your head slightly. “No, Matty, I’m good. You’ve done enough already, honestly. Thank you.”

He lifts his head, just enough so he can see your face, his eyes searching yours with that familiar intensity. “Enough? Don’t say that. Not a chance I’m leaving you without everything you could possibly want, got it?”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Well, in that case, just stay here with me. That’s all I want.”

His lips curve into a grin, his eyes warming. “Now that’s the easiest thing you could’ve asked for. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How about this: we sleep in tomorrow. Really let ourselves be lazy, yeah? Then I’ll take you somewhere nice, like that bakery on the corner. We’ll get those ridiculous pastries you like so much. What d’you think?”

You smile, the thought of it filling you with a cozy sense of comfort. “That sounds… perfect, actually. Can we get those chocolate croissants?”

“Anything you want.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll get a dozen if that’s what it takes to see you smile like that.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, his expression softening as he looks at you. “Deserve to feel like this all the time. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Least of all some idiot who doesn’t know what he’s got.”

“Thank you, Matty,” you whisper, meaning it more than you can say.

“Just glad you’re here.” His eyes hold yours for a long moment, then he settles back down, pulling you closer until you’re tangled together. He murmurs one last thing, just as you’re drifting off.

“Sleep well, darling. Wake me if you need something or just feeling lonely.”

You giggle as you start to rub small, slow circles along the back of his head, your fingertips grazing his scalp. He lets out a soft sound, almost a purr, and relaxes even more against you, his kisses drifting down to the corner of your mouth, lingering there as if he’s savoring every second.

“I definitely will,” you joke, “good night.”

“Night,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder blade before you’re both drifting off.

[sonamytrash]

A good fuckin' show

Electrician Toji Fushiguro.

Porn trope Toji series, part 1🖤

Warnings: MDNI, Dom!Toji x fem!reader, shameless smut, smut with minimal plot, smut with porno plot, vaginal fingering, eating pussy, eating ass, fisting, squirting, oral sex (m and f receiving), cum swallowing, dirty talk, probably more, not proof read.

I don't know what to say for myself. I got carried away, but there's no way any Toji in any universe wouldn't be this feral. Wrap up, don't let your electrician fist you unless it's Toji. Enjoy you nasty sluts 🖤

Dividers by @cafekitsune

The rain pattered against the windowpane, casting a rhythmic pattern of shadows across the living room carpet. You pull your hair into a messy bun as you stare at the clock. It was 2:58 PM on a dreary Saturday. The TV hummed with a cooking show, the only company you had while waiting for the electrician you'd called earlier that week.

The sudden knock at the door startled you. You peered through the peephole, and there he was: Toji Fushiguro, the man who'd been recommended by your friend. He was tall, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorframe, and his handsome face was a picture of confidence. You felt your heart skip a beat, not from fear but from the electric charge that seemed to pulse through the air around him.

You undid the lock and opened the door. "Hi," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You're the electrician?"

Toji nodded, flashing a grin that made your knees weak. "Yep, that's me," he said, his eyes shamelessly roaming over your figure. "Toji Fushiguro, at your service." He stepped inside, his work boots squeaking slightly on the polished floor. The air grew thick with tension as he moved closer, invading your personal space in a way that was both intimidating and tantalizing.

You led him to the flickering light in the lounge, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on your hips.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through your very core.

You pointed up at the light fixture. "It's been doing this for a few days now," you said, your voice a little shakier than you'd intended. "I don't know much about electrical stuff, so I figured it was better to call a professional."

Toji nodded, his eyes still fixed on you as he pulled out his toolkit. "Might just be a loose wire," he murmured, setting the tools down on the floor. He walked over to the switch, turning the light on to see the issue for himself before turning it off again. He reached up, his strong arms flexing as he unscrewed the cover. "Let's see what we can do about that."

As he worked, his shirt rode up slightly, revealing a trail of dark hair that led down to his waistband. You couldn't help but stare, your thoughts drifting to the powerful body that lay beneath. The room grew warmer, or maybe it was just your imagination. You licked your lips, feeling a familiar ache building between your legs.

Toji must have noticed your gaze because he glanced down, catching you in the act. He smirked and leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck. "You like what you see?" he said, pulling you from your thoughts.

You blushed, trying to play it cool. "I'm just admiring your... work ethic," you replied with a roll of your eyes, your voice a breathy whisper.

Toji chuckled, his deep laugh sending a shiver down your spine. He stepped back and bent over the toolkit, his pants stretching tight across his muscular ass. You felt your eyes wander, taking in every inch of his body. He pulled out a pair of wire cutters and a screwdriver, his movements deliberate and precise.

"Might need to get up there to take a better look," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "Could you help me out?"

You nodded, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in your stomach. You stepped closer, reaching to hand him the ladder from the nearby closet. As you did, your breasts brushed against his hand, and you felt a spark of desire ignite. He took the ladder and set it up under the light fixture, his biceps bulging with the effort.

"You can just stay down there," he said, his voice gruff. "I'll let you know if I need anything."

You watched as he climbed the ladder, his thighs flexing with every step. When he reached the top, he leaned over, giving you a perfect view of his ass. You bit your lip, trying to focus on the task at hand, but the anticipation was too much.

"You can go ahead and hand me those wire strippers," he said, holding out his hand without looking down. You reached up, your fingertips grazing his palm as you handed them over. Fuck, his hands were so big.

As you watched him work, you couldn't help but let your thoughts wander. The way his muscles moved beneath his shirt, the scent of his cologne, the roughness of his hands. Before you knew it, your own hand was resting on your thigh, squeezing slightly. You could feel your pussy growing wetter with every passing second.

Toji paused in his work, sensing the shift in the air. He glanced down at you, his eyes darkening. "You okay down there?" he asked, his voice a little gruffer than before.

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. "Yeah, I'm fine," you said, your voice strained.

Toji took his time climbing down the ladder, his eyes never leaving yours. When he reached the bottom, he stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. "You sure about that?" he asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Your breath hitched as his hand reached out, brushing against your cheek. His thumb traced a line along your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. "I can see you're a little... distracted," he murmured.

You swallowed hard, unable to form a coherent response. His touch was like a brand, searing through your skin and igniting a fire within you. The ache between your legs grew more intense, and you realized you'd been subtly shifting your weight, trying to relieve the pressure.

Toji leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Maybe I can help with that," he whispered, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. His fingers dug in, holding you in place as he stepped closer, trapping you between his body and the wall.

You gasped as he brought his mouth to yours, his kiss rough and demanding. His tongue slid past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched your own. Your body responded instinctively, arching into him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands roamed over your body, one sliding up to cup your breast, the other slipping down to squeeze your ass.

With a growl, Toji picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the couch. He set you down, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his shirt, revealing a chest that was a sculpted masterpiece. You reached out, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the heat of his skin.

He kissed you again, his hands deftly unbuttoning your blouse. Your breasts spilt out, and he took one in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. You moaned, your body responding to his touch with a fervour that surprised you.

"Fuck," you breathed, as his hand slid up your thigh, pushing your shorts aside. His rough fingers grazed your wet panties, the fabric already soaked through. He leaned in, capturing your mouth again as he ground his hips against you, his erection pressing into your core.

You reached for his belt, eager to feel his bare skin against yours. He let out a low growl as you unbuckled it, his erection straining against his pants. He stepped back for a moment, pulling his pants down to free himself, revealing his thick, hard cock.

You couldn't take your eyes off it, the sight making your mouth water. "Suck it," he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent a bolt of excitement through your body. You didn't hesitate, sliding off the couch to your knees. The scent of his arousal filled the air as you leaned in, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. You took the tip into your mouth, feeling the heat and the velvety skin against your tongue.

Toji's hands tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you took more of him in. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all." His curses and praise grew more fervent as you worked him, your mouth sliding up and down his length, taking in as much as you could and using your hand to pump the base. The salty taste of his precum mixed with the musky scent of his skin was driving you wild.

"You like that, don't you?" he groaned, his grip tightening. "You like being a good little slut for me." You nodded, unable to speak around his cock and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The idea of being his, of being used by him, was intoxicating.

"Mmhmm," you managed to murmur, your voice muffled by his shaft.

Toji's grip in your hair tightened as he thrust deeper into your mouth, his hips rocking slightly as you gagged on his cock. "Such a good girl," he groaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and dominance. "So eager to please.

You moaned in response, the vibrations travelling along his length as your throat spasmed around him. He was heightening your arousal with every filthy word that left his lips. You could feel your own juices trickling down your thighs, your pussy begging for his attention.

"Look at you," Toji said, his voice a gruff whisper. "Such a greedy little whore. You want more, don't you?"

You nodded, your eyes watering slightly as you kept up the pace. His grip in your hair tightened, pulling you back and forth as he fucked your mouth. You could feel his cock swelling, growing harder with every stroke. "That's it," he growled. "Take it all, baby."

His praise was driving you to be the best you could be for him. You moaned around his length, the vibrations sending shivers through his body. His curses grew louder, his hips bucking as he reached the edge. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice strained. "Be a good girl and swallow every fucking drop."

You nodded, eager to please. His cock pulsed in your mouth, and you felt the first hot spurt of his cum hit the back of your throat. You swallowed, the salty taste flooding your mouth. He pulled out, stroking himself the last few times, spurts of cum landing on your face and chest. You sat back, a proud smile playing on your lips.

Toji pressed you back onto the couch, His hands deftly found the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with a harsh jerk. Toji's gaze raked over you, his pupils dilating with desire. He slid his thumbs under the elastic of your panties, pulling them down with a slow, deliberate motion. You felt the cool air hit your skin, making you shiver.

He dropped to his knees, his breath hot against your thighs. "Spread 'em," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. You obeyed, your legs parting as he moved closer. His hands slid along your inner thighs, his rough fingers sending shivers up your spine. You felt his mouth on you, his tongue tracing the line of your pussy before delving in. You moaned, your hips bucking as he began to eat you out.

His tounge found your clit with ease, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. He teased it mercilessly, flicking and circling as you squirmed beneath him. Then, without warning, one of his thick digits slid inside you, filling you up. You gasped, the sudden intrusion making your eyes roll back in your head. He chuckled against your skin, his teeth grazing your clit as he added a second finger.

Toji's fingers began to move, pumping in and out of you in a rhythm that grew more frantic with every passing second. You could feel yourself getting wetter, your juices coating his hand as he worked you closer to the edge. His tounge remained on your clit, rubbing it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed, as if he could read your mind.

With a wicked grin, he pulled away, leaving you panting and desperate. He leaned back, his eyes traveling over your exposed, trembling body. "Ready for more?" he asked, his voice low and dark.

You nodded, unable to form words as he repositioned himself between your legs. He spread your cheeks apart, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. You felt his rough fingers slide into your pussy, coating them in your wetness before moving to your tight asshole. "Look at this perfect little asshole," he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and lust. "So tight and pink. Do you want me to play with it?" He began to massage the entrance before you could reply, loosening you up with gentle pressure. The sensation was foreign and thrilling, making you squirm with anticipation.

With a wicked smirk, Toji leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste you. He licked around the edge of your asshole, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. You tightened your grip on the couch cushions, biting back a moan. He circled the tight ring of muscle before pushing his tongue inside, making you gasp. The feeling was intense, a mix of pleasure and pressure that was driving you wild.

As he ate your ass, his fingers remained busy, plunging in and out of your pussy. He stretched you wider, filling you with his digits until you were begging for more. You felt a third finger slide in alongside the first two, stretching you even further. The sensation was almost too much to handle.

He pulled away, smacking his lips. "You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his eyes dark with lust. "But I think you can take more." He pushed a fourth finger inside you, the blunt pressure making your eyes water. You gasped, your body tensing, but he held you down, his other hand keeping your pussy filled.

Toji began to pump his four fingers in and out, stretching you open. You felt your body start to relax, to accept the intrusion. You groaned, the sensation overwhelming. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough. You wanted more.

He looked up at you knowingly, his eyes dark with hunger. "Beg for it," he growled.

You couldn't believe the words that slipped from your mouth. "Please, Toji," you whimpered, "Fist me."

"Nasty fuckin' slut." He teases with a wicked grin, but he complied, adding the addition of his thumb, his hand disappearing into your pussy. You felt a brief moment of panic before the pressure grew, stretching you wider than you ever thought possible. He pushed in, inch by inch, his fist disappearing into your body. The pain was exquisite, a delicious agony that had you crying out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

As his fist filled you completely, his other hand moved back to your asshole, slipping a digit inside. The sensation of being so full was overwhelming, making your eyes water. You couldn't believe how much you enjoyed the feeling of his hand buried inside you, his knuckles pressing against the walls of your pussy. It was as if every nerve ending was on fire, the pleasure searing through you.

Toji leaned back in, his tongue licking your clit as he fisted you. The combination of his hand moving in and out of your tight hole and his tongue swirling around your sensitive nub was more than you could handle. You felt your orgasm building, a crescendo of sensation that was about to crash over you.

"Fuck, you're taking this so well," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You like that, don't you?"

You could only nod, unable to find the words to respond as he began to move his fist in and out of you with a steady rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through your body, making you arch off the couch. His tongue danced around your clit, licking and sucking as his fist pumped in and out of your pussy. The sensation was like nothing you'd ever experienced before, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that had you begging for more.

Toji's hand was a blur of motion, his fist disappearing and reappearing as he fucked you with a ferocity that left you gasping for air. Your orgasm grew closer, the tension coiling tight in your belly. You could feel your muscles spasming around his hand, the pleasure building to a fever pitch.

With a final, desperate thrust, your body let go. You squirted, your juices spraying all over his hand and the couch beneath you. The force of your climax was so intense that you saw stars, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Toji's eyes widened in surprise, but his smile grew even more wicked as he watched you come apart in his arms.

As your body trembled, he withdrew his fist, your muscles clenching around his retreating hand. He licked his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he took in the sight of your quivering form. "Damn, you're a squirter," he murmured, his voice filled with approval. "I fucking love a good show."

[cybrs4pphic]

camgirl pt 2!!

camgirl!reader x abby

afab/fem!reader, squirting (:p), full nelson (:0), abby yearns to be inside you, fuckin on the first date, reader has no idea abby knows abt her sex work, kinda awkward first-time sexual tension lol, abby has a fat dick (:D), this is so long???????

18+ mdni (goodbye minors)

it’s the next day and abby is still trying to work up the courage to text you. she doesn’t want to sound boring, but she also doesn’t wanna overdo it. she’s laying in bed, your number typed into the chat, her fingers hovering over the keys.

‘hey, you gave me your number at the coffee shop yesterday and i thought you were really pretty so… i’m abby,’

her thumb was now just hovering over the blue arrow to send the message before hitting it, eventually sending the message. abby immediately shuts her phone off tossing it on the bed trying to find something to distract herself with while she waits.

abby decides to just turn on some show she’s seen a million times. a few hours later you text her back with a ‘hiii abby!! thank u!! sorry, was at work :( i’d love to do somethin w you sometime soon if ur down :p,’

she’s almost, almost, embarrassed at how fast she replies. ‘you’re okay, how was work today? and i’d love to. what did you have in mind?,’

‘well, if u wanted to hangout today, i wouldnt mind just gettin to know you like at mine or somethin, i’ll cook u dinner too whatcha want :3,’

abby’s gonna blow up. ‘i’m not picky, surprise me. and that sounds great, how does 7 sound then?’

‘perfect, i’ll see you soon!’ you send her your address in a separate message with a little heart. abby could actually pass away right now.

2 hours later it’s 7:05 and abby’s standing outside your door, not wearing anything too special— just jeans and a shirt taking a deep breath before knocking. a few second later she hears the door unlocking and opening.

she sees you, looking cute as ever. she then hears the sweetness of your voice inviting her in, abby mustering up a smile through the nerves.

“okay, so, i‘m makin’ chicken alfredo if that works for you?”

“s’perfect,” abby slurs out, practically soaking her underwear watching you cook, mainly your ass in those stupid leggings. is she wearing underwear? floods abby’s thoughts.

“almost done. if you wanna go sit down i’ll get everything ready,” you turn around giving abby a quick smile before returning to your cooking.

abby’s in heaven right now. you sitting across from her, just getting to know each other. finding out you both actually have so much in common makes her feel ecstatic. you guys are having such a good time talking you both nearly forget about the food.

“you’re a great cook,” abby says as you, blushing, take her plate from her placing it in the sink after rinsing it off.

“thank you! tried really hard on this one actually,” you say, giggling. yeah, abby’s obsessed. she needs to be inside you, making you a mess on her cock-

“wanna watch a movie ‘er somethin’?” you interrupt her thoughts.

“what kinda movie?”

“was thinkin’ something scary, if you’re down?”

“works for me,” abby replies, moving to sit next to you on the couch as you scroll through the vast amount of horror movies on whatever streaming app you picked.

“oh! how ‘bout the new texas chainsaw?” you don’t even give abby a chance to reply before you hit play— not like she really cares what you guys watch anyway.

abby has her arm around the back of the couch manspread while you have your knees tucked under you half sitting on your butt half on your heels next to her. within the first five minutes of the movie, she has her arm draped over your side mindlessly drawing patterns into your hips and thighs while you lay on her chest.

you guys get about halfway through the movie before abby breathes out, “hey.”

“yeah?” you reply, picking your head up to meet her eyes.

abby glances at your lips, before asking, “can i kiss you?” to which you just nod a bunch.

abby leans in meeting you halfway to finally kiss you. not long after, she’s grabbing your hips pulling you onto her lap so you’re straddling her, deepening the kiss.

you pull away first, gasping for air. abby’s also gasping for air, but she could kiss you til she passes out, honestly.

“tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” abby breathes out as she toys with the hem of your shirt. you nod as a reply.

“words,” abby says bluntly.

“yes,” you breathe out, still catching your breath. abby wastes no time pulling you out of your shirt and bra before taking her own off.

“god, fuck, c’mere,” she’s pushing your hips up so that your tits are eye level with her before she immediately latches onto your tit. one hand is groping your ass while her other hand is toying with your other nipple. jesus, her hands are so fucking cold you’re practically shaking under her touch.

your hands run down her chest, stopping to play with her tits before sliding down to the button on her jeans.

“take ‘em off,” you whine out. abby happily obliges, gently grabbing u by the hips before laying you down on the couch. she gets up undoing her pants sliding them off. she’s immediately on top of you, thumbs under the waistband of your leggings breathing out a “can i?”

“please,” your voice barely above a whisper, but abby’s already peeling your leggings off realizing you, in fact, were not wearing underwear.

“s’like you wanted to get fucked tonight,” abby lets out a small laugh.

“by you,” you shoot back as you spread your legs in front of her making abby blush as she leans forward to kiss your inner thighs, seeing your glistening cunt clenching around nothing. she starts sucking like she’s about to leave a hickey, making your legs shake from the sensitivity.

“abby, please,” you breathe out.

“please what?

“fuck me, abby, please need to feel you,” you whine out reaching out to wrap your fingers in her hair.

“don’t have a strap, ba-”

“i do,” you cut her off. “come with me,” you pull her up by her hair giving her a quick kiss before getting up, taking abby’s hand, and practically skipping to your bedroom. once you open the door abby immediately recognizes it. your bed in the center of the room against the back wall, a desk across from the bed, probably where you set up your camera. what’s new to her is all the decorations that she didn’t usually see when you were live.

“cute room,” abby states as you’re digging through your closet for a dildo.

“thanks! what kinda cock you want?” you ask her it so casually abby nearly.

“how many do you have?” abby questions you back.

“a bunch,” you giggle.

“what, are you some kind of pornstar?” abby smirks and you can practically hear the smirk in the way she asks the question. you have the dildo in your hand, but you freeze at her question. you know it’s a joke, a rhetorical question, so you just laugh it off bringing her the dick.

“you seem like a fat cock kinda girl,” you smile handing abby the harness and dildo.

“and you seem like you love taking fat cock,” abby fires back sliding the harness up her legs, securing it. “now where were we?” abby says, sliding her hands up your stomach to your breasts watching them spill out from her fingers. you lean up to catch her lips in another kiss, quickly deepening it by tilting your head to the side and allowing abby’s tongue access to your mouth. she’s grabbing your hips and placing you on your bed before attacking your neck and chest with kisses.

“fuck, these tits are perfect,” abby says as she slides two fingers down your cunt, teasing your entrance. “you can take two fingers, right, baby? gotta get you ready for my cock,” you practically moan at her words and she’s barely touching you. is she even real?

“yes, yes! please just touch me, abby,” abby responds by sliding her middle and ring finger into you searching for that soft spot. she’s fucking her fingers back into you,, eventually finding your g-spot, hitting it with the tips of her fingers making you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan.

“found it,” she smirks to herself. she really can’t believe she’s actually touching you right now; this is like a dream come true for her. countless nights of her watching you touch yourself and her finally being the one to make you shake and moan under her touch. she has to fuck you.

“do you have lube?” she asks to which you nod telling her where it is. abby gets up squirting some lube onto the cock you gave her, taking her hand making sure it’s covered.

“are you ready?” she asks looking up at you, her hand still on her cock, stroking it like it’s attached to her. you give her a few eager nods followed by a ‘yes’. abby walks over to you, pushing you on your back before asking if you’re ready again like she’s scared she’s gonna hurt you

“please fuck me, abby,” you get right to the point and abby nods before pushing the dildo into your weeping cunt with her hips. the way you’re gasping and whining just from her putting it in makes abby want to absolutely ruin you. abby needs to fuck you so well every time you touch yourself on camera all you can think of is her.

abby begins rocking her hips back and forth at a pretty slow pace, nearly pulling out completely before pushing herself right back in, where she belongs, you letting out little whimpers every time she pushes back in.

“faster, please, abby,” you whine out as she’s pulling out.

“gladly,” abby takes your legs, throwing them over her shoulders before leaning forward to properly fuck you. abby’s fucking you faster like you requested but it’s still not deep enough for your liking.

“abby abby deeper, please please,” you plead for her.

“can i try somethin’?” abby questions to and you, obviously, tell her yes. before you know it abby’s completely pulled out of you, whining at the empty feeling, before she’s leaning her upper back on the bed frame, patting her lap for you to straddle her.

“face away from me, baby,” abby says.

“what’re you plannin’?” you giggle out, smiling at her.

“‘ts a surprise,” she smiles back before patting her lap again to which you throw a leg over her lap (abby definitely slapped your ass) before settling right in front of the dildo.

“now what?” abby put her feet up on the bed and threads her arms underneath your thighs beginning to pull them up towards your chest.

“relax f’me,” she says quietly from behind you causing you to relax into her hold, your back to her chest. once you’re fully in abby’s grasp, you take her cock sliding it back into you.

“you good?” abby questions to which you nod and abby’s hands snake around the back of your neck, forcing you to watch you take her cock.

before you can comprehend it, abby’s fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. you can feel how tight it is, how deep she is, all of it— you practically feel her in your throat and all you can do is take it and watch.

abby’s grunts mixed with your whines and moans is making abby soak through her fucking underwear

“fuckfuckfuck abby, y’re too deep! please please,”

“you can take it— know you can,” abby replies not letting up on her assault on your cunt. you’re a fucking mess of moans and tears and drool and you can barely handle it when abby’s hand snakes to your clit rubbing it in fast tight circles with her two fingers.

you’re practically fucking sobbing with how she’s stimulating your clit and constantly fucking up into your g-spot. your eyes closes shut as you’re so close to coming.

“eyes open, breathe,”

“can’t— i can’t s’too much, ‘m gonna come,” you’re shocked you can even get out even that much.

“‘m not stoppin’ you,” abby says, not letting up in the slightest. you do your best to keep your breaths steady, but the way your orgasm is building up, it feels different.

“abby… abby abby,” you chant her name, whether it’s a warning or a plea, she doesn’t care. all abby cares about right now is the way her hands and thighs are being soaked right now. your mouth is hanging open in a silent scream just watching the way you gush all over abby’s cock.

“did you just fuckin’ squirt,” abby’s giddy right now.

“are you even human?” you breathe out to which abby just lets out a laugh, releasing you from her grasp causing you to practically collapse on top of her.

“so the answer’s yes,” abby smirks, brushing her fingers gently along the back of your neck, where she knows she definitely put too much pressure on while fucking you.

you feel her slide out of you as you roll onto your stomach eyeing her up and down. you freeze as you hear her say

“i know you’re a camgirl,”

“what?”

pt 3 maybe :3 this is the longest thing ive ever written

[rentumblsstuff]

NPMD!Steph: I asked Pete to Pasquali’s on the first date.

AC!Steph: I asked Pete to shower with me.

YJ!Steph: Who the fuck is Pete and why are we thirsty for him? Get a grip, ladies.

NPMD!Steph: Okay, okay, imagine the biggest nerd you can think of?

YJ!Steph: Oh the bow tie kid.

NPMD!Steph: That’s him.

AC!Steph: But then also like make him funny and sarcastic.

NPMD!Steph: Yeah! And sweet.

AC!Steph: And weirdly sexy and secretly jacked and you just kinda wanna break his brain so that the only thing he can think about is pinning you to the wall of the shower even though it’s nasty, so-

NPMD!Steph: Wait the other one is right. Get a grip. Please.

AC!Steph: *shaking* I’ve been stuck at Camp Idontwannabang for a month and he’s the only sane one here other than me. There’s only one thing I’m trying to ‘get a grip’ on around here, and it’s down the shorts that his ‘Virginity Rocks!’ camp tee is tucked into.

——

AC!Peter: I broke my leg trying to improvise a weapon to protect Steph and myself.

NPMD!Peter: I almost sacrificed my life for Steph!

TGWDLM!Peter: I STILL HAVEN’T GOTTEN MY HOT CHOCOLATE.

AC!Peter and NPMD!Peter: NEITHER HAVE WE!

TGWDLM!Peter: Also who is Steph and why are we willing to hurt ourselves for her?

AC!Peter and NPMD!Peter: *OFFENDED GASP*

AC!Peter: Imagine you have really low blood sugar and all you have to fix it is fuckin’ raisins… And Steph gives you a chocolate bar. Relief, finally, you can think straight for what feels like the first time in your life. That’s Stephanie.

NPMD!Peter: Imagine an eldritch god tells you that you have to give up what you treasure above all else and you suddenly realize in the worst way possible that your Pokémon cards and comic collection mean nothing to you in comparison, and as weirdly slimy and wiggly fingers brush the hair from your neck, you realize that the girl who’s suddenly become the most important person or thing in your life thinks of you the exact same way and that one of you has to die before you’ve even worked up the nerve to admit to the coolest girl you’ve ever met how you feel. That’s Stephanie.

AC!Peter: … Are you okay?

NPMD!Pete: Better than that guy’s doing.

BF!Pete: I watched a man get kicked in the head until he died… I can still see the bomb falling through the air as I spent my last moments alive with my big brother…

——

NPMD!Grace: I can explain!

AC!Grace: YOU HAD A SEXUAL FANTASY?!

PB!Grace: NASTY!! JAIL FOR YOU.

AC!Grace: HELL EVEN.

NPMD!Grace: Wait, no no no! It’s okay, I killed the guy it was about!

AC!Grace: You better have!

NPMD!Grace: But then he came back to life and I had to sacrifice my chastity to send him back, so we had sex in the middle of a football field and five evil gods dragged him to Hell! Also by the way, Jesus isn’t real and it’s up to us to cleanse the earth of all perverts for our new gods, the Lords in Black!

AC!Grace and PB!Grace: …………… WHAT THE FU-

[memzyyy]

this caused me a mental breakdown. i got real lazy at the end so deal w it.

say anything and my foot will be going into your ribcage (not clickbait) (real)

CONTENT: voyeurism (? roommates are present but arent written for) Exhibitionism, rough (?) hate sex ig?? praise n allat i cba to write anymore😭 Heathers reference :3 if u find it ill snog you 💋

NSFW DOWN BELOW

he is your enemy, and unfortunately you’ve been stuck with him and a few other men in a dorm for the rest of the year.

He’s a shameless man and will walk naked around the dorm and his only excuse is, “well its my space.” Which is an ass excuse in your opinion since he shares the so called “his space.” and plus it lowkey gets on your nerves since you cannot have friends or anyone over because hes just straight up butt booty naked around the dorm.

But at least its not a sight for sore eyes as his body is chisled like a greek God, why is he chisled like a sack of hot stuff you ask? well he works out and is a Quaterback and is the smartest guy on the football team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

But besides all of that, you had been given a box of chocolates, they were quite thin but there was a lot of them so you really didnt mind. Your roommates were in their rooms, well, other than him, mans was casually in his birthday suit as usual, so when you walked into your dorm with a box of chocolates his fatass asked what you had, and of course you replied with “some chocolates.” and of course his big backed self asked for some so you sat down on the

sofa and gave him one, eating some yourself before retreating to your room.

20-30 minutes later you leave your room, and Kai and your other roommates there,

him still being naked, but with a rock hard cock asking what the fuck you just gave him.

You read the label on the chocolates, **aphrodisiac chocolates** Oh, cheers for that, making it fuckin small writing in the corner, fuck you aphrodisiac company hope you stub your toe.

Anyway you’re stood there, your pussy glistening with arousal, some making it down your thighs. you were **DRIPPIN.** You told him what is was and he just responded with; “Great. awesome even, now im stuck here with a hard cock.” okay? you think, what did he want you to do? your in the same situation-

you were pinned under him, his hard dick fucking into you, his cock pistoning all up into your sweetspots, dragging his fat cock up and down your walls and you were loud, the ravenous nature of your coupling made it so you couldn’t do anything but take it, poor baby :( (CONSENTUALLY)

he gunts and groans as he pounds into you relentlessly, sweat dripping from his muscular torso onto your skin. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he growls, “Fuck, you're tight..."

His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise as he slams into you again and again, the sofa creaking beneath you both. The room fills with the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your cries of pleasure.

"Look at that," he taunts between thrusts "my angel is taking my cock like a pro."

his words send a shiver through you, his dirty talk only adding to your arousal.

“Shut the fuck up.” you snapped, but you couldnt help but enjoy the feeling of his cock pistoning into you laughs darkly, the sound sending vibrations through your body as he continues to rut into you. "What's wrong, angel? Can't handle a little dirty talk while I'm wrecking your cunt?"

He pulls back slightly, just enough to slide a hand between your bodies and rub your clit in firm circles.

"Now, are you going to cum on my cock like a good girl, or do I need to work you harder?" He punctuates his question with another deep, powerful thrust, his pelvis grinding against your clit as he does so.

he pulls back so only his tip remains in you, but with a particularly forceful slam of his hips,he buries himself to the hilt inside you. He holds still for a moment, letting you feel every inch of his throbbing length stretching your walls.

"Feel that, angel? This is all yours..." He punctuates his words with a series of short, sharp thrusts, his cockhead rubbing insistently against your sweet spots, making the coil in your tummy get tighter.

a smirk playing on his lips as he continues to fuck into you. “Look at you, getting all sloppy and desperate for my cock." he hits that one very special spot in you that makes your eyes roll back into your head and makes you cum on his cock, he pulls out with a pop before sitting up and leaning against the sofa, panting, congratulations, you had solved the problem.

[hazbinshusk]

18 or 29 with blitz please🤍

prompt #29: a kiss to the back of the hand.

“How d’ya know ya won’t like it if ya don’t try it?” Blitzø insists, scurrying along at your heels. You sigh; he’s been bugging you for the last forty – you glance at the watch on your wrist – seven minutes about trying out his latest kink-of-the-week, and while his eagerness is kind of endearing, he’s starting to get on your nerves. Just a little bit.

“Satan, Blitz,” you roll your eyes, blowing past the others and making your way into the conference room. While Blitzø had absolutely no qualms about having these conversations in front of your co-workers and his daughter, you like to at least pretend you have some semblance of privacy in the workplace. “Would you let it go? At least while we’re at work?”

“Noooope!” he shakes his head. “If I do that, you’re gonna distract me and I’ll never get an answer.

“Damn,” you deadpan, flouncing into your usual seat. “You’ve seen through my insidious plan.”

Blitzø sniggers, rounding the table and wrapping the end of his tail around the arm of the chair. He tugs it, turning the chair towards him.

“C’mon…” he taunts, leaning over you, caging you in with a hand on each arm of the chair. “You know you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

You scoff, pushing him away, and you try and fail not to smile when he laughs again. He wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly and his smile widens when you do laugh despite yourself. You lean forward in your seat, hooking your finger under his chin and drawing him into a kiss. He melts into it, his tail waving happily behind him. You let the kiss linger for a few wonderful moments, your tongue sliding against his, before sitting back again.

Blitzø blinks, the punch-drunk smile on his face shifting into something more devilish. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

You roll your eyes again, exhaling an exasperated breath. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Well…” he draws out the word with a snicker, raising an eyebrow snidely. “There’s something you can do about that, isn’t there?”

You scoff, shoving at his shoulder before he grabs your arm and pulls you into another kiss. He pushes up against you, forcing your knees apart with his hips, cupping your face in his hands. You nip at his bottom lip, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Bitch.”

You smirk at the lack of venom, the hint of affection, in his voice. “Ass.”

“You fuckin’ love it.”

“Do I?”

He smirks, pinching your thigh. “And I bet your ass that you’d get all giddy and cum hungry over this, too, you little tease.”

“Oh, for fuck… I never said I wouldn’t like it.” you say with a sigh. “I just… you could romance me a little, y’know? Instead of just blurting out your horny-ass ideas in the middle of Hellbucks at eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Ohhhh…” he drags out, raising an eyebrow in a way that makes you pretty sure that he’s entirely missed your point. “Why didn’t you say so…”

“Blitz, what—?” you ask as he lowers himself onto one knee in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. His eyebrow is still arched devilishly, and you feel yourself flush at the tableau he’s created between the two of you. You glance hastily over your shoulder towards the door. “Would you get up before someone walks—”

“Shh…” he hushes you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He lets it linger for a moment, his eyes holding yours. He smiles when you blush. “I’m doin’ a romance here, you sappy bitch.”

You choke on a laugh.

“Now,” he clears his throat, putting his free hand on his chest, the picture of a gentleman. “Will you, please, do me the honor…”

“Blitz.”

“Do me the honor,” he repeats pointedly. “Of wearing a fucking strap and fucking me in my ass?”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Part 6: ~

I Don't Want to Say Goodbye:

Tomorrow, a road trip. Today, a couple of conversations.

TW: Blood

Part 7:

'Mr. Cunningham? You have a caller who says it's a personal matter.'

'Put them through, Elizabeth. Thank you.' It wasn't a personal call because instead of his son or daughter, Bernard was met with an all too familiar voice he hoped to never hear again.

'Alright, Bernard?' The chairman jolted in his seat, throwing his phone in the air and letting it land on the mahogany desk while his skin turned white. Rennick. 'Listen, we need to borrow those two trucks again.' No response. 'Hello? Bernard? Hello?'

Slowly, Bernard pressed the phone to his ear. 'What?'

'There's been a change of plan, and we need the trucks.'

'Why?!'

'I just told you why. Look, I can give an address for you to bring the trucks, but we need them today. The sooner, the better.'

'You have some fucking nerve, David,' Bernard hissed through gritted teeth. 'I thought I told you that I never want to see you again.'

'Technically, you're not.'

'If you think,' Bernard's temper began to rise. He shoulders tenses, face turned red, and his knuckles turned white by how hard he gripped the phone. 'I'm going to give you anything after you embarrassed me? You can take this phone and stick it where the sun doesn't-'

'He'll be sending them in an hour,' Rennick mused, passing the phone for Caz, who to put back on the receiver.

'Good. We can get going in the morning at this rate.' It'll take several hours for the trucks to arrive, and Addair was willing to wait till morning. Caz sat on the step and had to ask. 'You don't like Cunningham much?'

'Much is putting it lightly, Cameron, but yes, I don't like him.'

'And why's that?'

'Because he fucked me over. Promised me a seat at the table after his pa died, but instead he told me to go and build the Beria with my own money.'

'Fuckin' Hell, mate, I'm sorry.'

'It's fine,' but there was a tone of exhaustion in Rennick's voice. He had that distant look in his eye. 'He gave me some funding, but I still had to empty my pockets.'

'Did he explain why?'

'No.'

'Then why did you bother staying?'

'Because the Beria was mine. For all its faults, I finally felt like I had a seat, but I was never proud of it.' Caz gave Rennick a pat on where he imagined his shoulder would have been. Rennick smiled and quickly found this was the right time to change the subject. 'So, about the police.'

'Ah, fuck.'

'Mind telling me why you ran?' He knew, of course. Rennick heard everything back on the rig, but he wanted more details. It was only fair. Caz rolled his eyes and let out all the air from his lungs. He also knew that Rennick heard everything. Guess they were both nosey bastards.

'He slagged off Suze.'

'Oh, I would say you were completely justified then,' and Rennick was being very honest with that statement. 'Why the fuck would he do that?'

'Because Billy was jealous. He was always jealous of me, but I dunno why. Well, actually it's because I have Suze, but he's the one with a silver spoon in his mouth who could piss away money on meaningless shit and never know what it's like to go hungry or work extra to pay a bill.' Rennick listened and watched Caz, who now had a distant look in his eye, and kept his head low. He kicked at the snow on the stairs and twiddled his thumbs, which began to shake.

'One day, he just took it too far. Looking back, he clearly wanted a reaction, and he got it, but I should have been the bigger man and walked away.' A flash of blood dripping from the bar crossed his mind. 'I just...' Caz felt the chunk of Billy's hair in his hands. 'Wanted him to shut up.'

With a splat, before anyone could talk, a snowball pelted Rennick in his eye. 'What the-?' His pitch was high, making Caz snicker and Maidie laugh. But, the poor girl had been listening again. Caz knew that, and she was just doing this to cause a distraction. He could see the fake happiness in her eyes, unlike Rennick, who began to gather up the snow in a tendril. 'You're a smart one, aren't ya?' A little too much snow in a tendril. Maidie's face dropped, and she began to run. 'Get back here, you little bug!' Something, he called his son.

Caz watched Rennick chase his daughter, toss the snowball, purposely missing her, and hitting Trots in the back of the head. Maidie kept running as Rennick chased her, kicking up the snow under his tendrils. Another snowball landed on his cheek. Cait was here to rescue her sister and join in the fun. Three more snowballs from Roy, Suze, and Jack. Caz watched until he caught Addair sitting alone by the barn. It seemed to draw in those knee-deep in thought. Seems it was his turn to comfort someone.

'Hey.'

'McLeary,' Addair mumbled. He was looking through the photo album. The pair stood awkwardly in silence. Caz found himself staring at the photographs. They told a story of Addair and Jennifer. All in black and white. From holidays to simple captures of the everyday. Jennifer making dinner, or Addair hanging up a new pair of curtains. When the colour came in, so did the wedding photographs and the children. Tommy's school photo stood out the most. Caz sighed.

'I saw Tommy in my head.' Addair turned with a naturally confused look. 'It wasn't a dream, but I saw what happened that day, or what I guess you thought happened that day.'

'That makes no fucking sense, McLeary.'

'I still saw it, though, and I'm sorry, Addair. I really am.'

'I just keep thinking about what happened,' Addair said after a pause. 'Seeing the blood in his hair. Hearing the bike collide with the car. Seeing-'

'Seeing him order sweets for his brothers?'

'Y-Yeah. It's what Jennifer told me over the phone.' Addair's eyes lingered back to the photos. It was a New Years one, with Jennifer holding sparklers with Tommy and George. 'I don't want to say goodbye.'

Caz didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. So, he knelt down and just stayed with him, as they watched the children getting their revenge on Rennick, who was trying to hide his face from the warfare of snowballs. Unlucky for him as Muir dropped one right onto his head, leaving it completely covered, and like a cat, Rennick jumped and took off across the field. He was going to be running for a while...

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

With Good Weather Brings Good Breedings 🌸🐰 (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Poly!KiriBaku x Black!Bunny Girl!Reader

Synopsis: In which your spring cycle comes a little earlier than usual and you’re too afraid of your boyfriends–whom you’ve been dating for five months–thinking you’re weird instead of telling them about your cycle during mating season. However, during a picnic thrown especially for you, your two favorite pros are more aware than you realize and are more than happy to help you with your little problem.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS STAY TF AWAY), Poly Romance, AgedUp!Pro!Bakugou & Kiri (they’re in their late 20s), Black!Reader, Bunny Girl!Reader, Mating Cycle, In Heat, Dick Crazed, Public Sex/Exhibitionism, Foreplay, Nipple Play, Light Foot Fetish (Toe Sucking), Clit Stimulation, Overstimulation, Deepthroating, Biting/Nibbling, Hair/Ear Pulling, Tail Stroking, Spanking, Face Fucking, Light Hints of Dacryphilia, Degradation, Name Calling, Pet Names, Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Full Nelson, Mating Press), Non-Protected PIV/Non-Safe Sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), Mentions of Breeding, Squirting, Creampies, Facials, Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Read on AO3 here!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

CHAPTER FOUR: BUSS IT, BABY.

“So how can we help?” Kiri purrs.

You swear you feel like you blackout for a minute when his question and its hidden meaning begin to set in. You gape up at them and their soft yet hungered stares. You feel as if you’re baking in the sun, your entire body hot under their eyes. 

“W-What?” you weakly ask. There’s no way they could possibly be thinking of doing this for you. “You really don’t have to!” you begin to protest, flustered. I-I’m fine!”

Kiri’s eyes grow stern. “Y/N, you are clearly not fine,” he firmly states. “Look at you! You’re clearly struggling and we’re not gonna let our girl go through this alone. Let us ease the tension in any way we can, okay?”

Bakugou moves closer to you, making it so there is no space left between you and him. “We’re not takin’ no for an answer,” he softly growls. “So I suggest you let us know what you want and what you like.” 

His words set you alight and make your pussy embarrassingly clench around air. Kiri follows Bakugou’s movements and cuddles up next to your other side until you’re sandwiched between them both. You still feel slightly embarrassed with this, but also increasingly, unbearably horny with how close they are now. You feel like a prisoner trapped between two incredibly-sexy walls of a cell. Not to mention how patient and encouraging they are. They’re so hellbent on getting to know each and every freaky part of you, and it’s a complete turn-on. 

Time seems to go by in slow motion until you finally get the nerve to speak. “W-Well,” you softly stutter, “we could start with kissing and a little touching like we usually do. Only my ears and tail are free range now.” 

Kiri looks overjoyed by the opportunity. “Of course!” he brightly replies, already turning you away from Bakugou to face him. “Me first!” He ignores Bakugou’s angered growl, his full attention on you and your lips. “I’ve been waitin’ to get these lips to myself all day.” 

Without another word or waste of time, his lips are on yours. As usual, his kiss starts off gentle and careful as if he’s afraid of hurting you. But once he finds that rhythm, he sticks with it. His lips dance with yours in a passionate embrace, his hand under your chin to keep your face right where it is. His lips are pillowy-soft and intoxicating, the slight stumble on his chin tickling you lightly. 

His kiss sends you reeling, your mind filled with nothing but him. You’re aware of his other hand moving to hold your hip, gently squeezing you there. “You feel so fuckin’ good, babe,” he murmurs against your lips. “Taste good too.” He leans in again and gently runs a toothed fang along your bottom lip, making you softly gasp. 

He ducks back in for another kiss, this one with tongue, and it gives you the confidence to begin to run your hands over every part of him you can touch–his neck; his biceps; his chest, and abs. He’s truly a work of art. Both of them are. 

You gasp into the kiss at the sudden tug you feel on your ears. Bakugou is busy playing with them, alternating between running his fingertips lightly along the fur and tugging them at the tips. He even puts the tip of your ear in his mouth, nibbling on it gently. The moan you let out is needy and desperate, embarrassingly so. “Aww, c’mon, Katsuki,” Kiri laughs. “Don’t torture our girl too much.” But Bakugou pays him no mind, still toying with your ears. Kiri begins to run his lips over your jawline, trailing down the tender skin of your neck and collarbone. You have no choice but to lean your head back and embrace it all–this sweet torture. You don’t know how much you can take of this. Your body is trembling with need, your tail twitching in desperation. 

Kiri notices this. “Looks like that tail wants some attention too,” he chuckles, running his fingers along your little cottontail. “Why don’t you show Katsuki the same treatment you showed me and I take care of you here?” 

You don’t even nod or reply. You just turn around to face Bakugou who wastes no time smashing his lips against yours. His kisses are a lot rougher and more passionate than Kiri’s. He makes sure you can’t breathe or think after his kisses are done; that all you can feel are the ghost of his plump, pink lips against yours for days. He firmly grips your chin, keeping your face strictly facing him as his tongue slips into your mouth. As Bakugou works on your lips, you feel Kiri play with your tail, his fingers gently stroking the ball of fur that twitches excitedly as he does. With his other hand, he gently strokes your ears, taking extra care to run his forefinger and thumb along the tips. You pull away from Bakugou to moan at the sensations, your mind hazy with pleasure. 

Bakugou takes advantage of this by pressing rough, wet kisses to your neck and collarbone, gently sucking on the skin to leave faint hickeys. Your mouth falls open, your hands moving to grip his broad shoulders and breathe in his vanilla scent. “‘Suki,” you whimper. 

Bakugou smirks against your skin. “Those whimpers are so fuckin’ cute,” he chuckles. “They’re goin’ straight to my dick. Can you feel it?” He shifts his hips and pushes into your thigh so you can feel the obvious outline of his hardened dick. “You did that to me.” 

You wish he hadn’t done that. Now all you can think about is how hard Kiri’s dick might be and how you want them both in your mouth and pussy. Your naughty thoughts dissipate only when you feel Kiri’s hands slide up your sides underneath your shirt. “Is it okay if I take off your top, princess?” he whispers against your ear, pressing a kiss against your neck. 

Despite your hazy mind currently feeling the effects of your intoxicating boyfriends and your heat symptoms, you’re not horny enough to not understand what he’s implying. “R-Right here?” you ask nervously. “What if someone sees us?” 

Your eyes tick around the area. Though you’re surrounded by trees and wilderness, you never know if someone could come hiking up the trail and see you. You’re shocked by how much it turns you on–the idea of getting caught, perhaps with Bakugou’s dick in your mouth while Kiri’s is in your hand, both of them slowly stroking their hips in time with you, showering you with sweet praise and degradation as they do. Kiri just laughs, already moving your top up higher. “No one’s coming, gorgeous. Don’t worry.” 

“And if they do, they can fuck off,” Bakgou mutters against your neck. “I’ll blast ‘em all to hell if they even look at you.” You giggle at his words, already feeling a little more confident and emboldened with this new kinky journey you’re about to venture upon. But maybe that’s just your horniness taking over. You turn to Kiri, giving him the green light. “You can take off my skirt too.” 

Kiri grins, looking like a kid on Christmas Day. “Yes, ma’am.” He wastes no time peeling your top off of you and then helping you out of your skirt. He coaxes you to sit up so he can get it down your ankles and then off of your body. He flings both articles of clothing to the side, forgotten. Now, all of this attention is on you. His eyes are hungered; starving. “Fuck, gorgeous, look at you.” 

You feel like you’re baking in an oven under your boyfriends’ lustful gazes on your body. You had decided to put on a brightly-colored sexy lace bra and panties under your clothes today; some that you knew you looked good in. Bakugou reaches out to toy with the lace on one of your bra cups. “This shit is way too sexy,” he growls lustfully. “You were planning for this, weren’t you? Bet you were hoping we’d play with you out here in the open, right?” 

His hand sneaks behind you to tug at your ears, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your clit. “Right?” he repeats roughly. 

“Y-Yes!” you whimper, toes curling at the sensation. “I was hoping! Couldn’t help it!” Kiri smirks at your honesty. “Good girl,” he coos, running a finger down your bare leg. “So honest. Why don’t you reward her, K?” 

Bakugou doesn’t need to be told twice. He looks at you, waiting for you to give him the green light. Wordlessly, you nod, giving him the go for the bra to come off. His fingers work expertly to unclip the bra before tossing it to the side. Once it’s off, your breasts fall out of the cups and bounce slightly against your chest. Both pros moan softly at the sight of your brown, hardened nipples, looking like drooling dogs wanting to take a bite of your hanging fruit. You find yourself giggling at the attention, feeling good about yourself. 

Gently, Bakugou lays you down on top of the blanket before hovering over you, his face blocking the sun. “Let me know what feels good,” he whispers before ducking down to kiss your neck and your collarbone. Your eyes flutter closed and your hands run through his ash-blonde hair as his lips dance across your skin, taking his sweet time going to your tits. He takes both into his hands and begins to kneed them gently, his fingers pressing into the tender flesh. “Fuck, you’ve got a nice rack, baby,” he groans, oggling your titties in his hands. “I could do this all day.” 

Then his lips are wrapping around one of your nipples and sucking gently, his tongue swirling around your areola. You moan at the feeling of his wet tongue and plump lips teasing your breast while his hand works the other. “Katsuki,” you exhale, his name a mere whisper in the wind. “Please...pinch them.” 

Bakugou looks up at you from between the valley of your tits and grins. “Naughty fuckin’ girl.” He does as you plead, taking both nipples between his fingers and pinching them, tugging them–not enough to hurt you but enough for you to feel those sparks of pleasure shoot through your veins as he toys with your sensitive nipples. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums, encouraging those little noises dripping from your lips. “Just relax, baby girl. Let us take good care of you.” 

As if wanting to make you lose your mind even more, you feel Kiri take one of your feet into his hands and begin to kiss the sole, his hands gently massaging your calve. Then his lips wrap around one of your toes and he proceeds to gently suck on your big toe, his tongue gently tickling you there. “Sorry, hon,” he chuckles. “Couldn’t stand starin’ at these cute little toes much longer.” 

He then pulls your toe out of his mouth and kisses your foot, his lips pressed to your painted toes before doing the same to the other. “You like that?” he teases before practically sticking your whole entire foot in his mouth. If only he knew. You were fucking losing it, all sense of self-control leaving your body at the sensations. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” Kiri groans, gently placing your foot back down. “I need to have a taste too. Scoot over, K.” 

Surprisingly, Bakugou does as he says. Now Kiri is beside him and taking one of your nipples into your mouth while Bakugou works on his own. Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at the pleasure–two sets of mouths and tongues on your nipples, toying with the hardened, brown peaks. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, your head falling back.  

As they continue their foreplay, your body grows more sensitive. The light grazing of their teeth on your nipples sends shivers up your skin and makes your pussy gush into your panties, desperate for something. “Fuck!” you cry out, hands in their hair, gripping their heads closer as your back arches, pushing your chest farther into their mouths. “I-I can’t….” 

You want to tell them to stop or else you’ll cum. As if hearing your silent plea, Kiri stops and looks up at you, his eyes as red as the purest blood. “Look at you squirming around,” he chuckles. “Seems like you’re wanting something, cutie.” 

Bakugou pulls away too and sits up on his knees. “Maybe we should take you to the car and find out,” he purrs, his hand on your inner thigh. Your eyes flick down to the outline of their dicks pushing through their pants, desperate to be released. 

You know damn well you wouldn’t make it to the car or to any of your homes. Your heat has begun to take the driver’s seat and you find yourself cupping both of their bulges in your hands, staring up at them under your lashes as you do. “Why not out here?” you purr, mischievously staring up at your boyfriends. 

From the way Bakugou and Kiri are looking at you, you would think you just asked them to rob a bank. Their eyes are wide, mouths slightly parted in shock. If they didn’t believe you could make it to the car with your horny self, they certainly believe it now. “Wait,” Kiri says, moving away from your hand cupping his dick in his pants. “You want this…right here? Right now?” 

You nod frantically, practically foaming at the mouth with how feral you are. “Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “I want this more than anything.” To persuade them even more of how much you’re craving this, you sit up on your knees, now eye level with them. You stare at them imploringly, hoping they’ll see the heat in your gaze. “Please,” you beg, running your fingers gently over their hardening bulges. “I need you. Both of you.” 

Kiri looks like he wants to scoop you up and protect you from all harm while Bakugou looks like he wants to gobble you up. “Fuck, don’t make her beg, shitty hair,” he hisses impatiently. “Take those fuckin’ panties off before I rip ‘em off myself.” 

The redhead doesn’t need to be told twice. He loops his fingers through the waistband of your panties and, in one swift motion, yanks them down your thighs. As he does, he unintentionally rips the lace waistband when he yanks on it too hard. You gasp when you hear the tearing sound. “Kiri!” you whine, glaring at him. “Those were expensive!” 

Kiri takes a look at the tag on the panties and smirks. “Soma, huh?” he chuckles before tossing them to the side. “I’ll buy you some more. You bought this on yourself, mama. Might as well be a good girl and take it.” He doesn’t even apologize nor do you make him. The both of you are too damn horny to be fighting about torn underwear. Slowly, Kiri coaxes you to lay down on the plush All Might blanket and gently opens your thighs for him and Bakugou. The spring breeze hits your pussy lips dripping in your arousal, making you shiver. 

But nothing gives you the chills like the way Kiri and Bakugou stare at your exposed pussy. “Fuck me,” Bakugou growls, a feral look in his crimson eyes. “Look how fuckin’ wet you are, baby. You’re fuckin’ gushing for us.” He sneaks a hand between your thighs and tentatively drags a finger up your pussy lips. 

His feather-light touch makes your thighs tremble, the feeling better than he can begin to understand. “C-Can’t help it,” you whimper softly. Kiri runs a gentle hand over your stomach, trailing his fingers over your heated skin. “Aw, baby, we know you can’t,” he coos. “Our poor little bunny just can’t help gushin’ for us.” 

You burn internally from his lewd words as Bakugou proceeds to rub your clit, nudging the little button with his thumb. Your mouth falls open as sparks of pleasure shoot into your core, causing you to begin to wind your hips in time with Bakugou’s ministrations. He gives you a cocky smirk as he watches you, his eyes never leaving your body as it wriggles and squirms around. 

“Hold up!” Kiri suddenly shouts. Bakugou pauses, glaring daggers at him. “We need a safe word. This is the first time we’re doin’ somethin’ outside kissing and touching, so we need something to make sure we’re safe.” He turns to you, giving you a reassuring smile. “You pick the word, baby girl.” 

You blink up at him, trying to process what he just said through your pleasure. “Uh...” You search for a good word; one that’s random. Your eyes trail down to the pro hero’s face on the blanket and a lightbulb flickers in your head. “All Might?” you suggest. 

“All Might it is,” Kiri chuckles and nudges Bakugou roughly. “Now you can dig in, and you’d better save some for me.” 

Bakugou nudges him back as he gets onto his stomach, right in front of your pussy. “Let’s get these fuckin’ legs up,” he growls, throwing your legs over his shoulders.” You breathlessly laugh as he positions you the way he wants you, his strength and ability to toss you around making you wetter. “I’ve been dying to see what these thighs of yours taste like.”

Before you can catch a breath, you feel his long, wet tongue pressing against your inner thighs where he proceeds to suckle on the soft, tender skin. As he does, one hand palms at your ass while the other reaches up to tweak and toy with your nipple. You moan at his work on you, one of your hands toying with the breast he isn’t handling. “‘Suki,” you whimper. 

Bakugou moans into your thighs, his tongue and lips moving greedily against your skin. When he looks up at you, his eyes drag you in, hypnotizing you. “Goddamn, you’re wet,” he growls against your leg, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “You’re drippin’ down your thighs, bunny.” 

“No fair!” Kiri grunts, forcing Bakugou out of the way. “Lemme get a taste.” While he starts by licking up your inner thighs, unlike Bakugou, he doesn’t stay there. He shocks you by taking a handful of your hips and proceeding to run his tongue over your pussy lips and clit, alternating between using the flat space of his tongue and flicking the tip against your clit. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, your ears twitching with joy. 

“Eji,” you moan. “That feels so good.” Your hands immediately go to tug and play idly in his red locks of hair as he continues to work your pussy with his tongue. He eats you greedily, sloppily, spitting all over your cunt and slurping it back up. You should’ve known he was a messy eater. He moans then, pulling off of you to give you a delirious smile. “Fuck, you taste so good, baby!” he proclaims, caressing your hips. 

He goes to duck down again for another lick, but Bakugou stops him. “Time’s up, shitty hair,” he growls, venom in his tone. “Fuck out the way.” He practically throws his boyfriend out of the way to make room for himself between your thighs again. 

If you thought Kiri was sloppy when he ate your pussy, you suddenly think yourself wrong when Bakugou dives in for a taste. He first spits all over your cunt before proceeding to slurp it back up as he licks and sucks at your clit, never taking a moment to slow down or breathe. Your mouth falls open as you pant heavily, your hands gripping his ash-blonde hair and muscular shoulders. 

Your eyes close against the blue sky and bright sun above you, the feeling too much for you. But Bakugou spanks your thigh, forcing you to open your eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, gorgeous,” he demands, giving you a sly wink before diving into your cunt again. This time, he even adds a finger and you nearly scream in utter pleasure as he curls it up, right against your G-spot. 

You suddenly feel Kiri’s hands on your tits, playing with your nipples. “No, baby,” he teases in your ear. “Keep your eyes on me. I wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” He slinks his fingers down to your clit and proceeds to rub it while Bakugou moves his tongue to your pussy lips. “Lemme help you get there faster.” 

You nearly jump out of your skin as you feel Kiri rub your clit at the exact speed with the right pressure that quickly begins to make you peak. That feeling in your stomach begins to unravel too quickly, threatening to snap. “No, no, please!” you sob. “I’m about to cum!” 

“Go ahead, baby girl,” Kiri whispers in your ear. “Cum in Katsuki’s mouth. Let me see you do it.” Bakugou’s muffled moans and the way he feverishly fingerfucks you get you there quicker than you want. 

Before you know it, you’re tumbling down that hill into a sea of pure bliss as the first orgasm either of your boyfriends has given you rocks you to your core. A string of moans leaves your lips as you cum hard on Bakugou’s tongue while Kiri stares on, transfixed by you. You’re practically in heaven, soaring above the clouds as the warm feeling that is only achieved by a damn good orgasm can achieve. 

When you finally come down, you let out a breathless sigh and pet Bakugou’s hair as he cleans you up, licking up every ounce of your cum from your thighs. Finally, he sits back and stares down at you hungrily, eyes hooded and his bottom lip wet with saliva and your cum. It’s the hottest thing you’ve seen thus far. “Feel better, mama?” Kiri asks, trailing his fingers over your sensitive stomach. 

While you do, you know only one orgasm isn’t enough to tame the beast of your cycle. And you’re right: you begin to feel that heat take over again, the ache in your pussy growing. You whimper, moving to clamp your thighs together but Kiri stops you by putting a hand between them. “I’ll take that as a no. Guess you’ll need some more support.” You gasp as he hunkers down between your thighs and tosses your legs over his shoulders, your feet at his ears. Your eyes widen in shock when you realize what’s happening. It’s Kiri’s turn now. “W-Wait,” you stutter in protest. “You don’t have to–” 

Bakugou cuts you off by putting a hand on your throat and his lips roughly on yours. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls against your mouth. “This is what naughty girls like you get. You best shut up and take it.” Your eyes flick nervously from his red-hot gaze to Kiri between your thighs, staring up at you. “You don’t have to do anything, darlin’,” he coos, giving you a wink. “Just like there and enjoy this like the princess you are. Let us serve you. You deserve this.” 

With that, he proceeds to eat you out like you’re leftovers on Thanksgiving, tongue swirling around and around, going aaaaall the way downtown. Though he takes his time and isn’t as fast as Bakugou, he doesn’t spare you from the overstimulation that is making your oversensitive clit tingle and spasm. But the sensations don’t stop there. Bakugou leans down to play with your tits, teeth nibbling at the sensitive peaks. 

You’re seeing stars at this point, unable to keep your voice down. “Oh, fuck!” you cry, your hands moving to grip Kiri’s hair. “Yeah?” Bakugou growls against your titties. “Yeah, you like this shit? Lemme hear you, baby. Let the whole fuckin’ world know how good you feel right now.” Kiri moans into your pussy as he continues to greedily eat it, swirling his tongue around your cunt and clit. The feeling of his nose continuing to nudge your clit as he slips his tongue between your lips nearly throws you over the edge, and you know that you’re about to cum again. 

“I’m so close!” you babble, gripping onto your boyfriend for dear life. “So close again! Please, Kiri!” Kiri peeks up at you from between your thighs to nod at Bakugou. “Rub her clit, Katsuki,” he orders breathlessly. 

Bakugou quickly takes two fingers and rubs your sensitive clit while Kiri takes a finger and slips it inside the wet depths of your cunt.“Say that you’re our good girl,” he orders in a way that is so unlike the Kiri you know. This one is demanding and dominant, and so, so sexy. “Say whose pussy this is and we’ll make you cum.” He presses his finger up against your G-spot as he fingerfucks you and Bakugou laps at your clit. 

Tears prick your eyes as the urge to cum again rises, threatening to overflood the dam of your core. “I-I’m your good girl!” you sob deliriously to your boyfriends. “This is your pussy, daddies, please, please, make me cum!” 

Bakugou stops to glance at you, as does Kiri, both astounded by you and your words. “Oh, fuck, baby,” Bakugou moans in anticipation, a glint in his eye, “we’re gonna fuck you up good now.” 

And they do. Kiri curls his finger inside of you while Bakugou laps at your clit, never slowing down until you finally feel that second orgasm rip through you. “Cumming!” you shout to the heavens. “Oh, my God, I’m cumming!” At this point, you don’t care who hears you–the feeling of your second nut is way too good to stay silent or to even attempt to hide your voice. 

Your arch your back and scream Kiri’s full name as you cum all over his mouth. He moans appreciatively as you do, lapping up every gush of your cum, as does Bakugou. “Can’t forget the thighs too,” he growls against your clit. “Don’t wanna miss a single drop of her, Kiri.” Kiri moans in agreement, telling you that you taste “so fuckin’ delicious” as he continues to lap at your thighs. 

When you finally come down, you’re a twitching, panting mess. The aftershocks rock your hips for a while, causing you to buck into the air until they finally release you. You lay limp on the blanket, completely and utterly satisfied, your eyes closed and your chest rising and falling rapidly. Bakugou cackles from above you. “Looks like we really fucked her up.” 

Kiri chuckles in agreement, his hands massaging your thighs. “Definitely,” he says. “We should let her rest.” Your eyes flutter open at his statement, knowing damn well you’re not done yet. You stare up at Bakugou and Kiri, your body positively teeming with lust and utter need for your boyfriends’ dicks in your hands, your mouth, your other holes, ANYWHERE. 

They stare down at you in utter shock as if you are a totally different person. And you are. You feel all of your shyness and traces of your reserved personality that you had prior to this picnic leave you as your heat grows, creating a needy, greedy monster in desperate need of her fellas inside of her. 

“Who says I wanna rest?” You purr, standing up on your knees. You barely graze either Bakugou or Kiri’s chests, their toned stomaches right in your face. “Especially since I haven’t seen these yet.” Your eyes trail down to their bulges shamelessly protruding through their jeans, desperate to be freed. “Or tasted them.” 

You practically lick your lips as images of what their dicks look like visualize in your naughty mind. Are they thick? Long? Curved so they can brush up against your G-spot perfectly? Would they fit in your hands or in your mouth? Could they even fit in your pussy? With as wet as you are, sure, but you still wonder. 

But you don’t want to just wonder. You want to find out for yourself. Kiri looks hesitant though. “Do you want to?” he asks, raising a red, quizzical brow at you. “Don’t feel like you have to just because we–oh, fuck!” The rest of his words cease to make it out of his lips because your hand is too busy palming his cock over his jeans. 

Kiri’s mouth falls open, his eyes fluttering closed at the heavenly feeling of your hand stroking his hardened dick through his jeans. You do the same to Bakugou, taking him by total surprise. A soft grunt leaves his pink lips as he watches you palm his dick, his wide eyes making you giggle. 

He looks down at you with lust-filled eyes. “You little slut,” he growls. “You want our dicks that badly?” 

You peer up at the both of them through hooded eyes and your long lashes, hoping to God they’ll see how much you’re craving this. Craving them. “Please,” you whisper, begging them. 

Bakugou and Kiri practically groan at as the plea droops from your pretty lips. Kiri even reaches out to gently run his thumb over your bottom lip, smirking as he does. “Who are we to deny such a sweet request.” 

While Kiri gently takes your hand off of his cock, Bakugou just wipes your hand away like you don’t deserve to be touching him…yet. You watch, chin in your hands and a giddy smile on your face, as your boyfriends begin to pull their zippers down and pop their buttons in front of you. Off come the jeans, then come the briefs, and then, finally, your prizes are bestowed upon you. 

Your mouth falls open at the sheer beauty of their dicks. Though they differ in terms of length, they both have a slight curve and are equally as thick which means they will stretch you out perfectly. Your eyes trail over their heavy balls and up to their stomachs, noticing the differences between them: while Kiri has a tuffet of black public curls and a happy trail, Bakugou keeps his shit cropped, his stomach bare of any kind of hair. You also notice precum bubbling from the heads of both of their dicks, coating their heads in cream all for you. You’ve never been so ready to get some dicks in your mouth until now, plus every part of their bodies. 

You want them. Every single bit of them. 

“Well?” Bakugou’s voice has you looking up out of your dickmatized trance, and you find that they have both stripped themselves of their clothes. They are now completely naked, their muscles, tattoos, and scars from many years of missions and hero work on full display for you only. They stare down at you, lust and mischief in their eyes. 

“Don’t just stare at ‘em,” Bakugou grumbles. “You gonna do something with ‘em or what?” You don’t need to be told twice. You scramble to stand up on your knees and start by stroking them first, not wanting to rush this. This is the first time you’re getting a piece of your men’s dicks and you don’t want to waste a moment of it. 

You spit in each of your hands and wrap them around both, loving how your hands can barely wrap around the bases. Their precum continues to drip down their shafts, making use for great lube when the saliva begins to dry in your hands. You’re hypnotized by the way the skin on their shafts stretches and begin to glisten as you stroke them up and down…up and down… 

The soft moans that leave your boyfriends’ lips are delicious, the sounds tickling your eardrums. “Mmm, baby,” Bakugou groans, his head tipping back in absolute ecstasy. “Your hand feels so good strokin’ me like that.” 

Kiri stares down at you, drinking in the way you greedily stroke his cock. “Keep going,” he encourages, his voice breathless and raspier than usual. “You’re making us feel so good, mama.” 

Their nasty version of encouragement pushes you to continue your work, gripping them a bit hard and even slobbering over their dicks to add more spit to make them slicker. Watching your saliva drip over their veiny, fat shafts makes your pussy wetter and clench even harder. Your tail and ears twitch with need, desperate to feel your boyfriends’ hands and fingers stroking them. 

The desperation is traveling faster than a virus now because Bakugou grunts in frustration and pulls your hand off of him. “Fuck this!” he snarls, staring down at you with the most feral look that you’ve seen in his eyes. “I need your mouth on me now.” 

 You couldn’t agree more. You eagerly tip your chin up so he can gently slap his dick against your lips, his hand wrapped around his base. You stick your tongue out so he can slap it against the flattest part of your tongue too, the wet sounds and the heaviness of his dick on your tongue making you hot. You’re practically squirming by the time he finally slips his cock into your waiting mouth. 

He lets go of the base to allow you to take control. You do so, stroking the rest of the length that you can’t fit in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his head and along his dick, loving how warm his skin is, his masculine scent, and the taste of salt on your tastebuds. You take a bit more of him, your mouth stretching around his thick cock, but you don’t do it enough to hit the back of your throat. Not yet. 

Bakugou is still in his world though. His hand immediately goes to your hair as he watches you bob your head up and down on his cock. “Just like that,” he hisses. “Good girl.” 

His hand travels to the back of your head and gently pushes you down, causing his dick to slip into your mouth farther. You feel him hit the back of your throat finally, causing you to gag and your eyes to water. He pumps his hips a few times into your mouth, his dick stroking the inner walls of your throat, before he finally releases your head with a moan of ecstasy. 

You gasp as you pop off of his dick, a string of saliva following Bakugou in his wake as he pulls his dick out of your mouth that droops from your bottom lip. You softly pant, catching your breath but also to calm yourself down. You’re becoming hornier by the second. 

Kiri is staring between you and Bakugou hungrily, his dick having grown harder in your hand. “C’mon, don’t leave me out. Don’t I deserve some of that too?” He gently takes his dick out of your hand and taps it against your bottom lip, moaning when you begin to kitten lick the head. “You just got your throat fucked by Bakugou and you’re already ready for me, too?” 

“Don’t keep her waitin’, Kiri,” Bakugou rasps, his hand lazily stroking his cock as he stares at you. “Fuck her face for me. I wanna see that mascara drip all over those pretty cheeks.” 

Kiri has already begun to push his dick into your mouth while still letting you keep your hand wrapped around the base. He looks down at you, eyes lust-blown but still looking concerned. 

“Is that okay with you, cutie?” He breathlessly asks. Wordlessly, you nod, causing his dick to hit the roof your mouth. 

He moans at the feeling and slowly begins to jut his hips in and out of your mouth, never moving past your tongue. “Just tap my thigh twice if you wanna breathe, three times if you wanna stop.” 

Once again, you nod and open your throat as if you’re about to yawn, allowing Kiri to slowly slide his dick into your throat. When he hits the back of your throat, you gag a bit and recoil enough to breathe before slowly taking him in again, inch by inch. Kiri’s eyes squeeze shut as he slowly begins to bump his hips against your mouth, his pelvis hitting your nose. “Oh, my God!” He groans. “She’s taking me so…fucking...good!” The most delicious moans and whines leave his lips as he grips the back of your head, his hand curling in your hair. 

All you can feel, smell, and taste his him. His cock stretches your mouth and throat, making you gag against his dickhead. The vibrations and sloppy sounds only make him thrust a little harder, causing saliva to begin to drip from your lips and your eyes to tear. Your jaw begins to ache and the burning in your throat becomes less easy to ignore, but you push through it because at the same time, you fucking love it. 

“Hey.” Bakugou’s large, calloused hand tugs on your ear. Your eyes flick up at his hooded, lust-blown, crimson ones. “Don’t slack, slut,” he growls. “You’ve got one hand free.” Immediately, like you’re being controlled by him, your other hand is wrapping around his hard cock and pumping him in time with Kiri’s thrusts down your throat. 

The only sounds among the peaceful chirping birds and the bubbling of the brook in the distance are Bakugou and Kiri’s porn-worthy guttural grunts and breathless moans, neither one of them quiet or discreet. You love that you’re making them feel like this–so brazen, free, and drunk in their pleasure. You feel yourself growing drunk off of them, too, dizzy with their scents and the feeling of them all over you. 

Bakugou stares down at you as he continues to pump his hips in and out of your hand, Kiri’s moans and orgasmic whines in the background. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he cackles. Being used, just like you want. Let’s see just how much you’re lovin’ this shit.” 

He licks his hand and suddenly leans down to hook his arm between your thighs. You whine around Kiri’s cock as his index and middle finger slowly plunge into your wet pussy, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. When he retracts his fingers, they are soaking wet from your cunt, dripping in your honey. A hooded gaze crosses his face as he sucks your honey off of his fingers, his eyes set dead on you. 

Kiri watches in awe, looking positively drunk. “Oooh, you naughty little bunny,” he coos, tugging at one of your ears. “Come here, ‘Suki. Lemme get a taste.” He grabs Bakugou by the neck with a toothy smile and plants one on him. 

You watch with wide eyes as your boyfriends share a passionate, open-mouthed kiss, complete with sloppy, lip-smacking sounds and soft moans that make your pussy quiver. You know so many women that are lovestruck for the pro heroes would kill to be in your place right now. A delicious shiver travels down your body, stopping at your clit, and you have no choice but to press two fingers to the sensitive little bud and rub it. 

Bakugou eyes you and pulls away from Kiri, smirking. “Oh, you like seeing us kiss, huh? Little pervert.” He tugs at your ear a little harder, causing you to whimper around Kiri’s cock that is still in your mouth. 

“Oh, look at this!” Kiri mockingly laughs, eyeing your two fingers currently rubbing at your little rosebud. “Touching our pussy without permission, hm? Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson.” He pulls his dick out of your mouth with a soft moan and slaps the outside of your thigh. “On all fours, mama,” he orders you, still wearing that mischievous smirk. 

You’re not sure what they’re planning, but you do as he demands anyway, placing yourself on all fours with your back arched, your ass and cottontail on full display. You are now given the luxury of breathing freely without a dick down your throat, allowing your jaw to rest. 

Bakugou and Kiri suddenly move behind you, their presence palpable. “We’re gonna try something with you and let us know if you don’t like it, okay?” Kiri softly says, his hand stroking your ass. You shiver at the contact and slowly nod. Whatever they want to try, you are down with 100%. You know wholeheartedly that to them, your safety and your pleasure all top priorities to them. You trust them completely. 

“We’re gonna spank you,” Bakugou explains, a hint of anticipation in his tone. “And each time we do, you count, got it?” You feel the same anticipation he does, and you start to tremble. “Yes, sir,” you softly utter. 

That’s all the confirmation they need. Bakugou takes the first hit, giving you an open-palmed smack on the ass. The sound of his hand hitting your asscheek resonates throughout the clearing.“One!” you explain through a gasp, jumping at the sound and the sharp sting on your ass.

“My turn now, gorgeous,” Kiri chuckles, sounding giddy. “Brace yourself.” He rears his hand back which is why his hit must sting worse than Bakugou’s. As his hand recoils off of your asscheek, he groans at the sight. 

“Two, fuck!” you shout, your head hanging between your shoulders to stare down at your hands. Your ass is stinging horribly, causing your tail to twitch and your toes to curl. But your pussy has never been wetter. It’s already too much for you. 

“This is what naughty bunnies get,” Bakugou grunts as he hits you for the third time. He puts his entire arm into it too–your asscheek is practically burning when he’s done. It’s become a competition between the boys, both of them seeing which one can drive you crazier. “Three!” You practically shout, tears springing into your eyes. 

Kiri just laughs at them. “Is that what you wanted, hm?” he teasingly asks. "To be treated like a fuckin’ slut?” He rears his hand back and delivers a fourth blow, and you’ve finally reached your limit. 

“Four!” you sob, delirious with the feeling of wanting to continue and stop. “P-Please! I can’t take much more!” Your pussy is falling off of the bone at this point in anticipation to be filled while your asscheeks sting and hurt from your boyfriends’ punishment. It’s an intoxicating combination: pain and pleasure. Now you know why masochists exist. 

“Aww, but look at how nice your ass looks,” Kiri coos, running a gentle hand over your stinging ass. You hiss at the contact, your fingers clenching the blanket in fistfuls. “And that lil’ cotton tail is twitchin’ like crazy. But I suppose you’ve learned your lesson.” 

The redhead coaxes you out of your position and scoops you up into his arms, minding your ass. He presses kisses all over your face while he hugs you to his broad chest. “You did so well for us, baby,” he coos to you. Bakugou idles up next to you, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Real well,” he whispers raspily into your ear. “You’re such a good girl.” 

You feel yourself melting at their sweet praise, enjoying their snuggles and wondrous aftercare. However, the tingling in your body and pussy has yet to leave; neither as your excitement over what has come next. Because now that you’ve done a good job receiving your punishment, now you can get your reward. Now, you can finally get dicked down the way you crave. An excited smile crosses your lips. 

That is, until Kiri says, “It’s gettin’ late. I think we should get you back to work now.” 

Your smile instantly slips from your face. They can’t possibly think that’s all you need or want, can they? Do they think this all ends right here, with your jaw aching, ass stinging, and your pussy wet? ‘No!’ You protest deliriously in your head. You know damn well that if you don’t get a dick in you now, you won’t be able to focus or be okay for the rest of the day. 

“B-But I didn’t make you cum yet,” you softly stutter in protest. “And we didn’t…” You trail off and flush, hoping they’ll get the gesture. They do and stare down at you in confusion. “Did you want to do that?” Kiri asks, raising his pierced brow. “We don’t have any condoms on us though.”

“Don’t need it,” you immediately reply. “I’m on the pill.” Your hands trail down to your boyfriends’ dicks and wrap around them. “I need both of you inside of me. Need to feel you both cum inside me...fillin’ me up…” 

‘Fucking me stupid. Stretching me out. Cumming inside of me.’ 

Kiri’s mouth falls open into a silent, pleasured O while Bakugou softly grunts as you begin to stroke the both of them tantalizingly slowly. “You don’t know what you’re sayin’, baby,” Bakugou grunts, and it looks like it’s taking everything in him to not jump you right now. 

“Yes, I do,” you say with conviction. “I want this.” You move out of Kiri’s lap and sit in front of them on your knees, peering up at them between your lashes. You know that these next three words will nail the coffin for you. Either they can agree to do it or not and make you feel like a total idiot. 

But either way, you throw caution to the wind and open your mouth to whisper in a soft, breathy voice so unlike your own: “Please fuck me.” 

Bakugou practically tosses Kiri to the side trying to get to you first. “I go first,” he growls, immediately positioning you onto your hands and knees. Kiri glares at him. “Why you?” he huffs. 

Bakugou’s glare is just as deadly “‘Cause I drove here and cooked the fuckin’ food! And if you keep pissin’ me off, you’ll get none of this pussy later.” Kiri just smirks at him, a lewd glint in his eye. “You don’t mean that. You wanna see me drive my dick deep inside this cutie too, you perv.” 

You shiver at Kiri’s nasty words, wanting nothing more than that too. But first, you’ve gotta get through Bakugou. He moves behind you, one hand on your hip, drawing comforting circles over it. “Arch that back, mama,” he gently orders you. You do as he says, arching your ass and tail up for him. “Now breathe in and out slowly.” 

You do that as well, inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils slowly…only for your breath to momentarily be caught in your throat as Bakugou slides his thick, curved dick inside of you finally. “Good girl,” he groans, placing another hand on your hip. “That’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

Your mouth falls open as he begins to slowly rock his hips, taking his time to slide in deeper. You’ve never felt so full. You can feel all of him stretching you out, touching spots inside of your pussy that make your thighs quiver and your arms shake. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you shout, unable to hold back the pleasure you’re feeling. “You’re s-so…so...big!” 

Bakugou breathlessly chuckles at your words and grips your gips as you begin to slowly nudge your ass back into him. “Nice and slow, baby,” he coos in his rasped, slightly-strained voice. “Easy; don’t push yourself.” 

But you want to push yourself. You want all of him inside of you, so much that his balls hit your clit and his pelvis is flush against your ass. You want to take every inch of him. And after a few minutes of adjusting to his size, you finally do: you push your ass back into him and he allows him, groaning as his dick sinks deeper into your pussy. “Fuck, baby,” Bakugou moans, gripping your hips as he bumps his against your ass, again and again again. 

You’re a fucking mess–mouth open, eyes closed, breathless moans and gasps leaving your lips every time Bakugou thrusts his hips into your cunt. His dick strokes your pussy walls something magical, sending sparks of pleasure shooting into your sensitive clit. The feeling becomes too overwhelming, so you have to rest your arms. You find yourself with your face down and ass up, Bakugou continuing to bump and grind into you. 

Kiri watches you, eyes wide in awe and dick harder than a rock as it stands at attention for you between his thighs, sinewy with muscle and fine, black hair. “You look so good taking his dick, babe. I wish that were me.” Your pussy clenches at his words and the naughty idea it brings to your head. “Want you t-too!” you whimper between Bakugou’s merciless, heavenly thrusts of his cock inside of you. 

Kiri is quick to get in front of you, his dick now in your face. “Open up then.” You come back up onto your arms and open your mouth, submissive and completely willing. He slides his dick into your mouth once more, groaning as he begins to bump his hips against your mouth. “God, your throat is even tighter than before!” he grunts, taking a fistful of your hair to grip onto as he fucks your throat. 

“And this fuckin’ pussy…” Bakugou smacks your ass before taking a handful of it, continuing to fuck you silly. “Fuck, baby, your pussy is so wet, and it’s all for me, ain’t it?” he growls to you. You want to answer, but your mouth is too full of Kiri’s cock to say much. But Bakugou doesn’t care. He gives your ass another swift, hard smack that makes you yelp around Kiri’s cock. “Say it!” he demands loudly. 

You release Kiri’s cock from your mouth with a gasp. “It’s all for you, daddy!” you deliriously shout. “Both of you!” Bakugou and Kiri grin at you, happy with your answer. “Yeah, it is,” Bakugou breathlessly replies, his hips moving faster now. “Yeah, it fuckin’ is. Now take this fuckin’ dick.” 

He then proceeds to grip your hips harder and piston into your pussy while Kiri continues to fuck your throat, filling your nostrils with nothing but the scent of him. They even tease your tail and ears, tugging and stroking both bunny parts that have your body trembling and your pussy gushing around Bakugou. With the both of them fucking your holes, it is impossible to focus on anything but them and the way they’re making you feel. There is no way you’ll possibly be able to last long–not with how amazingly they are fucking you into the blanket. 

You’re seeing heaven. Your mind is going completely blank. All you can focus on is the tightening knot in your core that is quickly reaching its end to snapping. Kiri catches onto this, still stroking your ears. “I think she’s gonna cum, K,” he breathlessly announces. “She’s suckin’ me in so deep.” 

Bakugou suddenly stops and slips out of you, leaving you empty. “Then she’s gonna take all of me,” he growls determinedly. “Move out the way.” Before you can process what’s happening, you’re suddenly being flipped onto your back with your legs strap up and tossed over Bakugou’s shoulders. 

“Katsuki–“ All you can get out is his name before his dick is slipping inside of you again as he mounts you, fucking you on the balls of his feet and his hands holding back your thighs. In this position, he is much deeper than before, nudging at your G-spot and spreading you completely open for his eyes only. 

He doesn’t slow down either. He continues that same merciless, relentless pace as he fucks you deep into a mating press, pinning you down beneath his hard body. He has you right where he wants you–vulnerable; submissive; completely at his mercy. And you love every single minute of it. You can’t keep your voice down as he fucks you hard and fast, moans of his name leaving your lips. All you can do is grip your boyfriend’s shoulders as he fucks you closer to your orgasm. 

Bakugou leans down towards you, his nose nearly touching yours. “Is my little slut gonna cum, hm?” he whispers teasingly. “She gonna cum all over this hard dick?” 

Your eyes widen as your orgasm gets closer and closer; too much too fast. You want to tell him to slow down, but you can’t, the feeling too much. “Oh, my God, Katsuki, please!” you scream, unsure of what you’re pleading for. But Bakugou doesn’t let up, continuing to hold you down to make sure you can't get away from this. “Cum for me, baby girl,” he demands, speeding up even more as his own orgasm begins to approach. “Cum for me, and I’ll cum for you. I swear, fuck!” 

His hips slam fast and hard into you, nailing that spot that makes your toes curl and that knot in your core finally snap. When your second orgasm hits you, it hits you hard. Your muscles seize and your ears stand on end as you cream all over Bakugou’s cock, sparks of pleasure shooting into your veins. Bakugou chases his own orgasm by rutting into your drenched pussy until he finally cums with a strained groan of your name, gripping you for dear life. You gasp as you feel his cum shoot inside of you, warm and intense. You’ve never felt such an indescribable feeling. And you can’t even begin to describe how fucking good it feels. 

Kiri whistles from above you, staring down at the scene in enjoyment. “Now that’s a sight,” he chuckles. “Look at all of that!” When Bakugou slowly pulls out of you with a soft moan, his cum dribbles lewdly out of your pussy and drips down your ass. You’re overflowed with him. “You made a mess of our girl, K!” Kiri cackles. 

Bakugou smirks down at you, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “She loved it.” 

And you did. You can’t really articulate how amazing Bakugou fucked you because you’re so exhausted. Even so, your pussy still throbs, wanting more until you’re finally spent. Kiri swoops in on you, taking Bakugou’s place now. “Tired, baby?” he asks, smiling down at you. 

You shake your head, your heat cycle doing the talking. “Good ‘cause it’s my turn now.” You barely have time to recover before Kiri is picking you up effortlessly by your hips and placing you on top of him, your back to him. He places your feet behind his open thighs, also opening your thighs in the process so your pussy is exposed to him, Bakugou, and the surrounding nature. 

“Ready, mama?” he whispers in your ear. You’re speechless, unable to give him a coherent sentence, so you nod. Instantly, he sinks his cock inside of you and grips your hips as he begins to slowly thrust up into you. “Oh, my God!” he cries out, his voice ringing out among the little picnic area. “You’re s-so tight, babe! So wet and warm for me, f-fuck!” 

Bakugou cackles from in front of you, watching as Kiri fucks you as you sit on top of him, reverse cowgirl style. “Don’t tell me you’re cummin’ yet, shitty hair. You haven’t even fucked her out yet.” 

That taunting seems to throw Kiri through a loop. Immediately, he begins to rut his hips up into you as fast as a jackhammer, being extra careful to not hit your cervix or make you feel any kind of discomfort. He is extremely in tune with your body despite this being the first time you’ve been together, listening intently to your sounds and paying close attention to the way your pussy squelches and gushes around him. 

This fact only makes you crazy, completely abandoning all self control. You throw your head back onto Kiri’s shoulder as his dick strokes your pussy again and again. “Fuck, Kiri!” you whimper. “Too much! Too good!” 

Kiri takes your chin into his hand, firmly holding it as he places his lips against your ear. “Too fuckin’ bad, slut,” he growls into your ear. “You wanted this, now you’re gettin’ it. Take this fuckin’ dick. Take all of it! Bounce on my dick like our good little bunny!” 

You have no choice but to do that. Your breasts bounce wildly as Kiri fucks you stupid onto his cock, the sound of your ass hitting his hips every time he pounds up into you driving you insane. You begin to gasp and sob at the pleasure, losing your ever-loving mind. Bakugou rubbing your clit doesn’t make it any better. “Oooh, someone’s sensitive,” he cackles, grinning wolfishly at you. “You cryin’, bunny? Is our little bunny bein’ fucked just too good for her to take?” 

If only he fucking knew. 

Kiri turns your face to the side, once again whispering to you as his cock pistons in and out of you. “You’re ours now, darlin’,” he groans into your ear. “Ours to fuck stupid like this. You wanna be our little slut, don’t you? Maybe I should cum inside you to trap you, hm? Make you our little breeding bunny?” 

‘Whoa, huuuuuh?!!!!!’ 

Before you can even process his words, the familiar tickle signaling something that isn’t a nut. As Bakugou continues to rub your clit, it gets worse and your eyes widen in horror. “W-Wait!” you protest desperately, squirming around on Kiri’s cock. “Wait, Katsuki, I’m gonna pee!” 

Your squirming only makes Kiri fuck you faster, his balls slapping wildly against you. Bakugou smirks darkly at you. “Oh,” he laughs, realizing what’s happening. “I know what’s goin’ on. Come on and show us, slutty girl. Squirt all over Kiri’s dick like a good little bunny.” 

He goes faster and so does Kiri, both of them feeding off of each other and your energy. You have no choice but to sob and whine in protest as the urge to pee gets bigger and bigger.  “No, no, no!” you sob. “Gonna…gonna...” 

“Gonna cum soon, baby,” Kiri whines, still jackhammering up into you. “You’d better hurry up if you don’t want me to breed your pretty ass.” 

When you come undone, a desperate and embarrassed whine leaves your lips as you find yourself squiring all over Kiri’s cock. However, you don’t know that. You don’t even know you can squirt! It’s never happened before, so all you’re thinking is that you just pissed all over your boyfriend’s cock. He doesn’t seem to care though because he’s too busy chasing his own nut, pummeling inside of you with a vengeance. 

When Kiri finally nears his peak, he forces you off of him and places you onto your knees. You’re so exhausted that all you can do is let him, your body as loose and as useless as a rag doll’s. Kiri stands on his knees in front of you, pumping his dick in your face. “Look at me,” he orders. “Tongue out and mouth open. I’m gonna paint that pretty face of yours.” 

You do as he says, closing your eyes and sticking your tongue out for him. He lets out a swear and a porno-worthy string of whines and moans as he finally blows his load all over your face. You feel streams of his cum hitting your skin and drip down your chin and cheeks, all the way down to your neck and tits. 

Finally, finally, when Kiri begins to calm himself from his orgasm do you begin to feel better. As Kiri’s cum drips over your skin and Bakugou’s continues to drip out of your aching pussy, you feel the effects of your heat begin to fade. You are now able to feel normal again, but you also feel completely and utterly tired. 

You’re so exhausted that you fall in and out of sleep, only catching snippets of what happens over the next few minutes. Kiri and Bakugou gently lay you down on the plush All Might blanket while Bakugou wipes at your wet face and chest with a few napkins. Kiri lifts a water bottle to your lips, coaxing you to drink. “Catch your breath, mama,” he coos gently. “Here, drink. You need some water in you.” 

You drink the water, humming gratefully for the cool liquid wetting your parched throat. When you finish, Kiri and Bakugou swoop in on either side of you, trapping you protectively between them. Kiri lays your head on his lap while Bakugou curls up behind you, stroking your hip and drawing circles along your ass. 

‘Work,’ you think. ‘I have a job.’ You open your mouth to tell them, but Bakugou presses a finger to your lips. “Shh, don’t say anything,” he hushes you. “You don’t need to talk. Just rest your fine ass.” 

As appealing as that sounds, especially as the exhaustion of being fucked into oblivion begins to take full effect, you still can’t shake the thought that lunch has gone on longer than it should’ve. “But what about work?” you sleepily mumble. 

“Just let us handle it, gorgeous,” Kiri whispers to you, stroking your head. “We’ve got you. We promise.” He presses a kiss to your cheek as Bakugou presses one to your hip. “Just rest now. We got you.” 

Despite the dozens of protests and arguments in your head, you cannot deny your exhausted body a good nap. And so you let yourself drift away on those ocean waves that sleep brings, a content smile playing on your lips as you snuggle between your men. 

[sentientcave]

It's WIP Wednesday once again! I've got some Impound for you because it's been a while and it's still not finished (I've been working on Sparrow instead and just hit 55k today which is pretty exciting).

Contains: Blue collar Simon, Price as a cop, petty nonsense from men who should know better, but they're unfortunately not very emotionally intelligent

That’s when he saw the cruiser, parked on the street out front, too close to the fire hydrant.

Not blocking it, exactly, but still too close. If it were anyone else, he’d’ve let it slide, since the fire crew would still be able to get to the hydrant. But it was Price, and he’d just warned him about this very thing.

He pulled out his phone. “Hey, Johnny?” he said as soon as the line picked up, not waiting for Johnny to speak. “Send Roach out to city hall. Got someone parked by a fire ‘ydrant.”

“Fer fuck’s sake, Si, isnae the feckin’ cop again?”

“It is. I’ll come round to handle the paperwork. Won’t make you do it.”

“Awlright, but dinnae let him catch Roach at it neither. Ye know he’ll say somethin’ stupid and get his arse arrested.”

“Oh I know. Lad dun’t know ‘ow to keep his trap shut.” Simon hung up and headed back inside, hardly paying attention to the meeting, his eyes flicking back to Price over and over again, and holding whenever he found Price looking back. It was clear that neither of them retained anything said, too busy glaring at each other over the heads of the people sitting between them.

Simon got out of the building first, and stood off to the side to smoke another cigarette, leaning against a tree where he could get a good view of Price’s reaction when he came out to find his cruiser missing yet again.

He didn’t disappoint. He came out of the building a few minutes after the initial crush of humanity, talking to Kate and Nikolai. Price stopped in his tracks a little ways out the door, focused in on where his cruiser was supposed to be, and immediately scanned the vicinity, his whole body going rigid, hands tightening into fists, shoulders squared up for war, jaw set like concrete. His blazing blue eyes found Simon, and he marched over without saying a word, leaving Nikolai and Kate looking confused, and then amused when they realized what must have happened.

Price stopped in front of him, fury radiating off of him like heat off an engine, all that energy practically warping the space between them. “What’s your fuckin’ problem, mate?” he asked, jabbing a finger against Simon’s chest.

“No problem. I was ‘ere the whole time, wasn’t I?” Simon batted Price’s hand away, resisting the impulse to punch him for having the nerve to lay his bloody hands on him in the first place. Price was lucky that Simon was so rehabilitated now. That he had his temper on a good strong leash these days. “If you din’t want to get towed, you shunt’ve parked there. Not my problem if my people know ‘ow to do their jobs and you ‘aven’t got a clue ‘ow to do yours.”

“You don’t want to start a war with me, son,” Price growled.

Simon leaned forward, the barest curve of a smile on his lips, eyes narrowed and flinty. To his credit, Price didn’t flinch, didn’t move back, didn’t drop his eyes. He wasn’t intimidated by Simon’s size, like a lesser man would be. “You don’t want to start a war with me, old man.” He wasn’t sure there was much difference in their ages, if any, but if Price was going to try and talk down to him with the son shite than Simon was going to shovel it right back, like he was an unruly teenager in a rebellious phase. “I’m not goin’ to be pushed around by a fuckin’ badge. You don’t get special treatment because you wear a bloody uniform.”

Price’s jaw clenched even tighter. He had an impressive scowl, one that could probably level anyone else. “Watch yourself,” he grit out, like each word cost him something to force from his mouth.

Simon leaned a little closer. Their noses were almost touching. He could feel the currents of air stirred up by Price’s breath on his own face. “Or what?” he asked.

“Or else,” Price said, too angry to come up with anything resembling a real threat.

Simon pulled back with an amused grunt, and turned away, glancing over his shoulder dismissively. “See you as the impound lot, hm? I’ll be waitin’.”

In the end, it was Gaz who came around to pick up the cruiser.

[msallurea]

Yall are pissin me tf off

Sadly darlings I have to be the tough cookie of 2024 today...so brace yourself but do know if you have any issue with anything I say just know you may be part of the bunch that is proving my point in everything I'm about to say.

I would first like to say that everything I'm stating right now isn't directed towards anyone specifically and I'm only speaking generally but I am not about to sugarcoat when I say this post are about the anons...and unfourtanetly I have to give yall the donkey of the day. (AGAIN this isn't towards anyone specifically I'm speaking generally)

First and foremost anons, QUIT SENDING THE SAME GODDAMN QUESTIONS TO MULTIPLE LOA BLOGS!!!!KNOWING SOMEONE!! ALREADY!! ANSWERED!! YOUR!! FUCKIN!!! QUESTION!!!!!????

At first I really didn't understand what loa bloggers meant when they said that anons can sometimes be pretty annoying and honestly before really taking my loa blog seriously I never knew what they meant til now and honestly this THIS first reason is why I'm so upset with yall anons right now. While it isn't everyone it is very very VERY annoying when anons come on here and ask questions and while asking questions isn't an issue at all, IT DOES become an issue when you decide to take your ass to not just 1 not just 2 hell not even 3 but damn near EVERY! SINGLE! LOA! BLOG! YOU KNOW ASKING THEM THE SAME GODDAMN QUESTION YOU JUST ASKED THE LAST ONE and will still have the NERVE, THE FUCKIN AUDACITY, THE BRAIN CELLS to still sit up here and say "omg I don't know what to do" "I don't know how to manifest" oh and the crowd favorite "I've tried but nothing is working because..." 😑😑😑😑 loa bloggers could tell you the ABC 123 version of how to consciously apply the law and manifest your desires and you will STILL sit up there asking multiple blogs just to see if something will change in what we're saying. Honey let me tell you RIGHT NOW, everything loa blogs have said is literally the EXACT. SAME. THING the ONLY difference is how it's explained and the millions of different fonts it's written in 😑😑 and the worst part about it is that if a loa blogger decides that they don't want to tell you because they already know that YOU ALREADY KNOW THE DAMN ANSWER TO YOUR OWN QUESTION all of a sudden they're mean, they're rude, they aren't helpful, etc. Do yourself a favor AND GO TOUCH SOME GODDAMN GRASS!!

This leads me to my next point:

Loa blog or not WE! ARE! NOT! YOUR! THERAPIST!!!

I know I said I was speaking generally but this is specifically for the anons who come on here and decide to TRAUMA DUMP on loa blogs KNOWING they've already done it before. Now before yall come in my comments attacking me do understand, the problem isn't you venting and wanting someone to listen and hear your cry and you needing a slight shoulder to cry on before you can finally say enough is enough and pick yourself back up again. That isn't the problem. The problem comes in when someone who's an loa blogger who btw, unless it is said by the blogger personally that they are actually licensed for,ARE NOT THERAPIST!!! YOU ARE CONSTANTLY TRAUMA DUMPING ON THIS PERSON AND TO PUT THE CHERRY ON TOP YOURE NOT EVEN TRYING TO TAKE THE ADVICE THAT THIS PERSON HAS GIVEN YOU!! to make it even worse, it isn't just when you don't actually try the advice and listen to the help you've been given but you have the NERVE, THE AUDACITY to not only go to 1 not 2 hell not even 3 BUT MULTIPLE bloggers with this same story. Yall finna hate me for saying this but knowing that I too was once this way I don't give a fuck how yall feel about this because you NEED to hear it: STOP LOOKING FOR SOMEBODY TO FUCKING BABY YOU!! IF YOURE NOT GONNA ACTUALLY TAKE THE ADVICE GIVEN QUIT TRYING TO DRAG OTHERS IN YOUR DAMN SOB STORY!! YES YOU MAY BE A VICTIM TO YOUR HARDSHIPS BUT YOU ARE NOT! A! DAMN! VICTIM! WITH HOW YOU CHOOSE TO HANDLE IT AFTER RECIEVING HELP. STOP FUCKING CHASING ATTENTION!! STOP TRYING TO MAKE OTHERS FEEL SORRY FOR YOU!! AND GO ACTUALLY HELP YOURSELF!!

This leads me in with my final point and honestly I think this one has pissed me off more than anything in the world and actually ties in with what I said in my first point.

While I love and admire all anons because of course there was a point in time where your fav loa blogs you see now living there dream life amd have there success stories and what not were once like you where they too struggled and had there ups and downs with the law of assumption...these many different blogs took time out of there life to commit to helping you guys so just like them, you can live your dream life as well. They have created countless post and advice and tips and even the cutest fun ideas to make consciously applying the law daily a super fun and cute experience all the time no matter the situation....with this being said, if you as a anon are looking to find out how to manifest your dream life or whatever desire, and you fix you FUCKING FINGERS TO TYPE IN VERBATIM "I don't feel like going through all these post" and "omg that's too much work" and "I'm not reading all that" and "I don't feel like going through that masterlist" ....while literally not only the question you're asking has already been answered for you SO THE ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTION IS FUCKING AVAILABLE but I've seen time and time again of loa blogs showing anons where to find the info they are looking for, not only is it for FREE but it is also WRITTEN OUT AS SIMPKE AS POSSIBKE SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND AND YOU FIX YOUR DAMN FINGERS AND SAY YOU DONT FEEL LIKE GOING THROIGH ALL THAT. Let me just be the tough loving logical one out the bunch and say to anyone who is in fact like this: YOU!! ARE!! FUCKING!! STUPID!! AND YOU DO NOT DESERVE THE HELP YOU ARE RECIEVING FROM THESE BLOGS ...at least not for free and honestly your wasting not only the bloggers time BUT YOURS AS WELL. If you seriously don't wanna take out a couple minutes to really get the gist of the law FOR YOUR DAMN SAKE BECAUSE YOURE THE ONE WHO IS "STRUGGLING TO MANIFEST" FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST LEAVE THE DAMN COMMUNITY. I'm not saying that you being here isn't your right but if you're here just to be here and to just follow a trend and complain to others while at the same time being LAZY ASF not even TRYING to truly better yourself and your life by USING THE KNOWLEDGE GIVEN..seriously you are quite literally worse than a lazy person YOU. ARE. AT. THE. BOTTOM OF BOTTOMS!!!! At least someone who is lazy can work themselves to be a bit productive by tweaking what they know to suit who they are as a person so it works for them...but if you're really about to come on this loa blogs pages ans don't do ahit but mindlessly scroll, criticize, shame them, judge them for THERE MANIFESTATION JOURNEYS, constantly asking questions you ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWERS TO AND WILL STILL HAVE THE AUDACITY TO NOT APPLY IT!! With all due respect fuck you. Like deadass. Because you're not really hurting the bloggers you're hurting yourself and dont sit up there coming and crying in these loa bloggers asks talking about "my life is just so miserable" "nothing is working" "I'm so sick of everything I'm just gonna leave" ..knowing GODDAMN WELL YOU DIDNT EVEN TRY TO APPLY THE LAW EVER SINCE YOU STARTED AND JUST OVERCONSUMED EVERYDAY TIL YOU WERE TIRED AND READY TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN TOMORROW. Like real shit this is NOT FUCKIN FUNNY AT ALL, loa bloggers have a life and are human JUST. LIKE. YOU. We are NOT your parents, your babysitters or your heros. We are simoky people who found the law just like you, applied the information given and actually succeeded just as you could to if you STOP FUCKING PLAYING AROUND.

The most sickening part is that yall expect loa blogs to baby yall and be all soft with yall. Honestly this doesnt even just apply to situations with loa bloggers but also many other blogs specifically self help and beauty blogs and really any blog that gives advice on certain aspects of life you may or may not need help in, want to enhance or are interested in...literally bloggers being nice isn't the problem. The problem is when loa blogs like myself and others help you and you do absolutely NOTHING and eventually when we get to a point of no longer wanting to help you because we already know that you know exactly what you have to do...then you wanna have THE GODDAMN NERVE to disrespect them and calling them all kinds of things all because your little ass ego was hurt and you can't handle the truth. NOBODY IS ABOUT TO DO SHIT FOR YOU THIS IS WHY YOU WANT WHAT YOU WANT AND NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. SO QUIT BEING SO GODDAMN VICTIMISING AND ACTUALLY GIVE YOURSELF A FUCKING REALITY CHECK!!

Ima be 100, I genuinely could've said WAY more in this but ima just say this for now because it's plenty of yall anons who either needed to heat this or you've witness anons like this and this is also for any loa blogs or just helpful bloggers in general who take time out of there life to come on here and share you knowledge to the world in hopes that it may help others as well as enhance your growth in your own journey. Bloggers I completely understand that with what you do naturally we help but PLEASE for the love of God we are in 2024 ..I dont want to be a mean person but in all honesty, if you're running into anons like this that genuinely fit the description please just block them or something. You as a blogger are a person as well, yes you help others when they are in need of assistance and guidance but because you are a person who needs help sometimes too...please don't forget that YOUR PEACE, YOUR SANITY is just as important that person you're helping amd do not forget. And to the anons that hopefully don't fit into anything I've said above, thank you so much for supporting loa blogs as well as other helpful blogs such as mine and many others. Yall are the reason why we do this despite if the foundation of it is to improve ourselves, knowing that we inspire others is why we continue to do what we do and why spreading our knowledge of things we've learned is all the more valuable and for that, for THOSE anons, on behalf of loa blogs WE FUCKIN LUVS YOUUUUUU💗💗💗🎀🎀🎀

Xoxo, Ms. Allurèa

[whimsicalmonstrosity]

Full Revenge For an Empty Trade

There was a procedure for when certain friends of Gamzee's didn't answer texts or calls in a timely manner. It wasn't that Gamzee was a fretting Franny or a nervous Nelly. Gam just had a bad habit of...bad habits and Gamzee put it on himself to help keep an eye on Gam. Not only that, but he had questions he had to ask before he forgot them.

After teleporting to Gam's front door, Gamzee sees a trail of purple from the opened doorway that leads directly into the sea. He quickly steps in, expecting the worst and unfortunately, this time, he sees what he feared. Gam is lying in a pool of black and purple blood, completely still. At first he wants to check on him, but the ones who did this are getting away and fast. He's conflicted and decides to do a quick and sloppy stitch job to at least hold his torso closed. just 10 minutes of work before he gets up and starts sniffing for the culprit. He finds a scent of sea water, old wood, fish, and gold. PIRATES.

The yellow of his eyes shift to orange, and then red as he angrily follows the trail, ripping his shirt off. His wings erupt from his back and he glides across the air over the ocean, eyes scanning the surface for anything. He KNOWS who did this and he just has to-- he spots a pirate ship heading the opposite direction and a growl emits from his throat as he descends. Just as the pirates are about to dock, he hits the deck with his heels. Before any of the crew on deck can act, he brings out one of his swords he never gets to use and starts slicing off limbs and thrusting the sword into throats. Is it really fair for him to kill 3 or 4 for one brother who might just get up again a day later? Leave the morality to someone else, this is business. What good are pirates for anyway? He paints the deck with blood, his wings having retreated back into him. He sniffs around, so angry that he's grinning. "Where's the captain? I JUST WANNA MOTHER FUCKIN' TALK." Another poor crewmate, who hadn't been smart enough to flee with the others once they settled at a port, stood their ground. "Get OFF OUr SHIP, C-Clown!" Their voice shakes as their nerves get the better of them. Gamzee has no remorse or concern and grips the smaller troll by the throat, flinging them off the ship into the water with relative ease. He glowers around the deck, "Now where's the runt running this raggedy run down romp slomp?" Then, he stomps towards the big door at the center of the ship and he snarls, it twisting into an ugly grin as he tries the handle. "OH- locked? WELLLLL SHIIIIIT, however will I--" He scoffs and punches the door in the same place 5 times in until his hand busts through to unlock the door. He sniffs through the new hole in the door and even peeks in. He can smell Gam's blood and the origin of the faint scent he caught near Gam's body. The captain glares at him, bloody spear in hand. She threatens him that she'll send him to his Brother if he doesn't back off. The door is kicked and Gamzee's arm is sliced by the broken wood of the door. Once he loosens himself from it, he doesn't stop the captain from stabbing him in the neck. In fact, he takes it by the handle and slips it in more, proving a point. He uses his still developing power of healing using his voodoos. He slowly heals the wound closed as she abandons the spear for her guns. He doesn't hesitate to bring his wings back out, which startles the pirate. As she tries ascending to the Crow's Nest of the ship, Gamzee flies up, trying and failing to dodge all bullets. He launches at her and knocks her down onto the deck once more, knocking the wind out of her. More insults and gunfire happens before Gamzee gets tired of this game. He keeps teasing her, saying when Gam gets better, they'll LAUGH at what a dumb bitch she was for going after a Gamzee Makara. It falls on mostly deaf ears as she just keeps trying to shoot him. The purpleblood scoops her up and flies to the Crow's Nest, weaving and shaking her to throw off her aim, which just makes her drop her gun. She uses her sword to swing at him and hits him enough to let her go. "ah fuck-" He dodges the sword when she tosses it towards him and watches her fall 80 feet head first onto her deck. Once he figures she's dead, he kneels and scoffs again. "Flimsy fragile motherfuckin' bitches." In his hand goes right through her abdomen, tearing her apart from the inside out. She taunts her corpse as he mangles and rips her into many pieces before finally ripping her head from her body, snapping it from her spine. He pikes it and stabs the sharp end of the spear he used into the board of the deck. "YA CAPTAIN'S MOTHER FUCKIN' DEAD, YO. COME GET THAT MONEY." He's past the point of revenge now, having not only slaughtered her, but humiliated her in the process. Gamzee slaps her cheek before licking up her face to clean her bronze blood off it. Was it an intimidation factor for those watching from the docks? Or was he just feeling a type of way right now? Who knows.

"DON'T FUCK WITH GAMZEE MAKARA CUZ THIS WHAT HAPPENS. think you can take me on? NO. you ain't shit." Gamzee ignores the pictures being taken and flies off, heading right back for Gam's hive, his chest heaving and his hands still covered in bronze blood. He swoops down and runs his hands into the sea water to clean them off a bit as he approaches the shore of the beach. Once back, he runs into the hive and drops to his knees, shaking as he starts putting Gam back together the best he can, seeing he's missing some organs. He hisses to himself as he tries his best using both physical mending tools and his healing voodoos. He continues until his head starts hurting. After a while, Gamzee finishes and frowns, concerned that Gam isn't stirring yet. When he lifts his head to see the mess around, there's another trail of purple and black leading away from Gam and into one of the rooms. He cautiously follows the trail and opens the door, frowning.

Laying there is someone he remembers from visiting the bubbles. Someone he wasn't EVER expecting to see while awake. A horrorterror Gamzee. He sees his leg is severed, yet it doesn't explain just how in the FUCK he was laying unconscious right there in person-- Gamzee glances back over at Gam's body, his ears drooping downward. This...wasn't going to be easy for anyone involved.

[burning-fcols]

Travis can't help it. He doesn't like what he's seeing & why should he? Anthony was practically hanging all over that cat looking guy! Drooling by the looks of it! It stirs something ugly in the pit of his stomach & a growl bubbles from the back of his throat. Yes, Angel is a porn star, yes he was bound to flirt. But to where he could see it? When it wasn't even for work? That guy looked like he was getting genuine flirts & that alone wasn't fucking fair! After all he cared for Anthony. Was even going so far as to having his back during a tough work day & this was what he got to see in turn? Hands are clenched into tight fists as he waits until the other guy left the scene before striding up to Angel, looking clearly torn between angry & just disappointed. "You've got some fucking nerve. Who is he, huh?" ( uh-oh :'3 -sends another jelly bean- ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ever since that first after-work conversation with Travis— a genuine, surprisingly non-creepy one —things have been changing between them. Not intentionally; Angel is smart enough not to seek a listening ear from the guy whose life mission is to get back in the porn star’s pants. That’s just asking for obnoxious attempts at manipulation. But Travis is a persistent sort. Only lately, his relentlessness has reared its head in ways that DON’T make Angel want to rip out the other’s feathers. Who would have thought Travis could be kinda sweet when not drooling all over the place? In a way that, reluctant as Angel is to fully believe it, doesn’t seem fake.

Still laced with selfish intent ( as things always are ) but— crazy as it sounds —it feels more like he’s being romanced than seduced. As if the crazy avian thinks he has a shot at MORE than another fuck. As if Angel could ever be allowed to pursue more, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. He can’t. Not letting himself entertain such stupid hypotheticals, Angel had tried to leave such troubles BEHIND him along with the work day. But apparently, he wouldn't be allowed even that reprieve.

Startling at the unexpected newcomer, Angel abruptly stops before he can follow Husk through the doors of the hotel. Having ran into the bartender taking a breather outside— needing to get away from whatever bat-shittery was going on in the lobby —Angel hadn't wasted the opportunity for good-natured flirting banter. Hoping to distract himself from the headache of a Director he THOUGHT he left behind and fervently trying to ignore how his actions felt more playful than serious. How interacting with Husk ( despite being a comfort ) didn't elicit the same... confusing tightness in Angel's chest. One would think that'd be a good thing.

It's not.

Tensing, he rolls his eyes with a mutter of ❝ Stai scherzando, cazzo. ❞ before sharply turning on his heel to face Travis. Speaking louder so the other can hear, fur bristles as he emits an indignant scoff and dryly retorts, ❝ Oh— I've got some fuckin' nerve? Big talk comin' from th' STALKA' on my fuckin' doorstep. ❞ Fists clenched at his sides, one arm dramatically sweeps across himself as if motioning in the direction of the V Tower, ❝ What, suffocatin' me durin' work ain't good enough fer ya anymore? You gotta stick yer beak inta my business here 'cause I won't let ya stick yer dick inta my ass THERE? ❞

Bitterly barking out a laugh, Angel crosses his arms and questions through a sardonic smile, ❝ Or are ya here on ❛ official bus'ness ❜ ? Hmm? Y'doin' th' Vees dirty work like a loyal li'l bitch? Did one of THEM send ya here ta ruin my fuckin' night. ❞ Frankly, he doubts it. If Valentino wanted something, his phone would be blowing up. Vox likely would have sent one of his other assistants. Someone less liable to get distracted from the task at hand... and Velvette isn't the type to work through people who aren't directly under HER influence. But Angel spats out the accusation regardless, hoping to remind Travis exactly WHAT connects them.

They both happen to belong to the same shitty group of people. Nothing more.

He purposely ignores the question about Husk— he's not about to throw around specific names to someone with a jealous demeanor and access to Valentino —hoping to throw Travis off-balance enough for him to neglect to realize he didn't actually get an answer. 「 ☆ 」