#just straight up had to cut it in half and move the removed part either for later or just for being trashed

[waywardsalt]

writing win finally got out of that god damn scene that was going in circles

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (1/?)

Summary: Sequel to In Flames I Sleep Soundly; After the divorce, Wanda refuses to give you up. 

Chapter word count: 5k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Masturbation

Author’s Note: So... this AU wouldn’t leave me. For my new readers, you don’t have to read the first installment . This can be read as a standalone. Title is based on lyrics of “This Love” by Taylor Swift

AO3 | Masterlist

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta​

Next Chapter: Two

One

It’s not a god damn funeral, Wanda thinks as she stares at her black outfit.

With a huff, she makes the quick decision to reach for the zipper near the curve of where her spine becomes her head, and then pulls it down so hastily it gets out of track and refuses to budge further than her waist.

Shit, Wanda curses under her breath, wiggling her arms from its sleeves, which isn’t exactly difficult given her recent weight loss. At first she tries to shimmy her body out of the dress, but she only succeeds in getting stuck further and sweating under her pits. Unfortunately the weight loss didn’t happen around her middle, and she also couldn’t get it to move upwards and over her head. The options are to either fix the zipper or destroy the dress. Wanda picks the latter.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, she starts to frantically cut through the silky material. Her heart races as she terrorizes the dress with fervor–grunting Sokovian words she’s surprised she still remembers–until the dress pools at her feet in tatters. Wanda feels her energy depleted after, and she crawls on the bed to lie face down, on her stomach. 

To some degree, her recent outbursts are gradually becoming a concern, especially since she’s back in her old Manhattan neighborhood. The smallest, most insignificant things tick her off, and a densely populated city like New York is filled with them.

Like last week, when she was shopping at Trader Joe’s, and someone kept hitting her backside with their cart while waiting at the counter. 

“I swear to god, if you don’t lay the fuck off–” Wanda’s ears burned when she looked over her shoulder and saw a frail, old woman who looked like she didn't have many years left in her. 

“I’m sorry.” Wanda croaked out and then pressed her lips in a straight hard line. 

“Oh, it’s alright. We all have bad days. But sweetheart,” The old woman warmly smiled at her and then leaned closer as if to share a secret. “You need to get laid.” She added like she’s giving some age-old, archaic advice. 

Wanda’s smile in return was pasty, and she hurried to remove almost half of the stuff(not without receiving a dirty look from an employee who had to put them all back) in her basket so she could leave the counter as soon as possible. 

The mysterious universe had a dark sense of humor. It was sex that brought her to this manic-depressive, freak-out-at-a-grocery-store behavior, and to be told by a stranger that she needed more of it was just the icing on top of this tremendous fuckery of a year she’s had. 

Wanda turns on her back and closes her eyes for a minute. She doesn’t even know why she’s wasted an hour of choosing what to wear for the day she gets legally separated from you. And yet she couldn’t help but give an extra effort to look good for you. All she knows is the days she gets to see you are rare. She can count on one hand the times you’ve met since that fateful lunch at the diner back in Westview. She needs to look her best in these opportunities. 

She needs to look her best, and hopes you’d notice.

Glancing back at her wide-open wardrobe, that’s when she spots it. Hiding in the furthermost end of her rack, is a decade-old sundress she’s kept all this time. 

The memory rises unbidden to her mind, before she could stop it. 

It was the dress she wore on her first date with you. She recalls picking it specifically because it’s green. She wanted it to match her eyes–your favorite part of her body. It made you gape. It made you go almost stupid with want, forgetting the way to the restaurant where you made reservations because you wouldn’t stop staring at her. 

By the end of that night though, the dress was lost somewhere along the trip from the door to the bedroom.

“Aren’t we moving too fast?” You whispered against her swollen lips, breaking the kiss while your hands roamed all over her shaking frame. Wanda merely moaned and put her lips to your neck, kissing every inch of available skin to her. 

You’ve known each other for years. It didn’t feel like you were moving too fast. Rather, it was a culmination of sorts–seemingly platonic hugs that lasted just a tad longer than they should, the way your eyes always found each other in a crowded room, kisses on the cheek that came too close to the mouth. And not to mention, the other people you’ve both dated in those times of being more than friends but less than lovers. 

The pace was actually agonizingly slow. A slow burn that had put all other slow burns to shame.

You directed Wanda back to your mouth and the kiss that ignited again is its own kind of sex. God, she never really understood the fuzz about making out because her sexual experiences in the past didn’t really pay much attention to foreplay. For a while, she was simply content with the sliding of lips and tongues. But then you dropped to the floor and began pulling down her soaked thong, while your dilated eyes never left hers.

Wanda’s breath hitched at seeing you fall to your knees and gaze at her with incomparable reverence. How could you worship her when you yourself were so achingly beautiful?

She needed you to touch her soon or she’d go crazy. “Please.”

Her panties only made it past one ankle before you dove in to taste her for the first time. 

Wanda of the present comes at the ghost sensation of your tongue against her throbbing clit. In truth, it’s just her fingers that brought her to climax while she kneels at the center of her bed, her ruined underwear down past her thighs. She bucks her hips a couple of more times before falling back to the mattress, spent. 

That old lady was right. An orgasm does help.

-

The divorce is final. 

Today, she signed away any legal right she has as your partner. As for everyone else in the meeting room, it’s just another ordinary day to dissolve a marriage.

Wanda’s wearing the sundress that sort of accidentally gave her release this morning. You keep looking at her, no wonder trying to figure out why the dress looks so familiar. And Wanda can’t look at you straight in the eye without blushing. 

You came in with your ever reliable back-up: Natasha. Now that you’re no longer married to her, Wanda’s insecurities about the true nature of your relationship with Natasha has come up to the surface. The way Natasha would pat your back and ask you if you’re alright. The way she’d ask you if you’d like something to drink. The way she also knows you take your coffee black with three teaspoons of brown sugar.

The way she’s just always there. 

It annoys her enough that you said Natasha was your person, because then what was she to you? The title of soulmate triumphs over wife, and Wanda wants to be both. She wants all the titles. 

Well, maybe not all. She definitely doesn’t want to be called your ex-wife. But she’ll accept the reality for your sake. She wasn’t lying when she’d said she’ll give you everything you want, even if it puts her on the sidelines.

“Hey, do you want to get coffee?” Wanda breaks the spell of silence that lasted some five minutes when your lawyers and Natasha left the room to give you two a moment. 

She immediately wants to take back her words when you look at her  incredulously like she had grown another head on her lithe, sagged shoulders. 

“Seriously?” you say, and spitefully chuckle. 

Wanda says nothing, just resorts to quietly admiring you in a skirt suit she’s never seen you wear before. In the short time you’ve both been separated, she’s noticed little changes of yours that makes her homesick for you. You will wear new clothes and shoes, get a new haircut, try a new hobby, walk a certain way, and then all these changes will pile up until you become this inconceivable stranger. Still beautiful–but a stranger nonetheless. She knows the consequences of her actions are harder on you, but maybe, just maybe, it’s equally hard for her too. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” you sigh, despondent. “Maybe for you it’s not, but today is the worst day of my life, Wanda. Or second. Or third. I don’t know. There’s so many of them recently, but this is definitely in the top three. I just want to be alone.” 

Wanda will never get used to the way you’re now just either angry or tired of dealing with her. She’s afraid to reassess the odds of getting you back and finding out it’s worse than zero. 

“Right,” Wanda says, looking down at her feet. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You hum in response.

“It is, you know?” Wanda says.

You shoot her a quizzical look. 

“It’s hard for me too,” Wanda clarifies. “I spent all morning picking out what to wear and getting all dolled-up, in desperate hopes you’d–you’d change your mind at the last minute.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad, or–”

“No,” Wanda cuts in in panic. Somehow she keeps saying the wrong things. “It’s hard for me. Because it’s the end for our marriage when all I want is to be with you right now.”

You avert your gaze and nod solemnly at her as if you understood. 

Do you?

Do you, perhaps, feel the same way? Or is she the only one still in love?

“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” you say, eyes downcast still refusing to meet her eyes. “I know it’s unfair for me to act like I’m the only one who’s hurting. I just–I’m tired of being angry and sad and lost all the time. And it doesn’t exactly help when you’re around. For once, I want to feel something else and I need to be alone to figure it out.”

I want to move on from you, is what Wanda thinks you really want to say and her eyes well up. This time, she prays you don’t glance her way. She might just break down right in front of you if you do. She’s never known this kind of desolation. And she only has herself to blame. 

For once, she’s thankful for Natasha’s presence when she interrupts the moment, asking if you’re ready to leave.

“I am.” you tell Natasha. You get up and round the long table to approach Wanda. She could no longer stop the tears from falling when she felt you place your hand softly on her shoulder. The touch is so featherlight, it may as well just be her imagination. 

“Thank you for giving me the best years of my life. Goodbye, Wanda.”

The pain that racks her entire body causes her to visibly shake. She has no idea how she’s still alive at this point. Not for the first time, she desperately wishes for a do-over. But the clock only moves forward, and it’s still moving to take you away. 

Maybe time will also be the one to bring you back someday.

-

Two Months Later

Wanda hasn’t seen you since the divorce. Not once. Nor has she heard from you at all. While you didn’t downright reject her when she had told you that she’d try to get you back, her unanswered texts and unreturned calls should be more than enough to tell her otherwise. 

Her only consolation is that you haven’t blocked her number yet. A few days after she last saw you, she texted to remind you to pick up the last of your things she has in possession. Natasha showed up at her door the very next morning, which confirms you still get her texts. The items are inconsequential in nature, but Wanda had the hardest time putting them in a box. 

She spent an unnecessary amount of time arranging your hardbound books alphabetically (“It’s just not the same, but a Kindle user would never understand.” you’d explain to her whenever you’d shop for more) and cleaning each protector of your small collection of Funko toys (“A dozen more of those and you won’t have space left in your side of the cabinet. What does that leave you with?” Wanda would reprimand you after seeing a shopping bag full of them in the trunk of the car. “Happiness.” you’d reply with a sheepish grin).

She smiled contritely after she had sealed the package; how ironic that she terribly missed the things about you she’s the least fond of. It’s as if the grieving doesn’t have an end. And if she had known you’d send Natasha to retrieve them, she wouldn’t have given them away. She wanted to keep them–wants to keep more of you as much as possible. Wanda wouldn’t call herself a masochist though. Not really. 

Because it’s not over yet. It will take as long as it needs to, and it won’t matter. Patience is her utmost virtue. 

And Wanda believes you feel the same, because there are midnights where her phone would ring from an unknown number. She’d answer and listen to shaky, shallow breaths for a minute before the person on the other line ends the call. It couldn’t be anyone else but you, could it? These moments are always hazy, however, muddled by wine and prescription pills. But Wanda swears they happen. 

The days aren’t so bleak when she pretends she’s still your wife, and you’re just in some faraway place–like a soldier that has gone to war, she’s left to count the days until she’s in your arms again. She goes about her routine as she’s always done when the two of you were still together; go for a run in the mornings, have eggs and toast for breakfast, and then walk Sparky in the afternoon. Her evenings, excruciating and long, are the loneliest hours. Sleep won’t come easy to her, if it comes at all. Her heart mostly breaks as well for Sparky, who still waits by the door around the time you used to arrive home from work. He’d patiently wait there until Wanda would call for him, or fall asleep in the exact same spot. And it’s not like she can talk to him and explain why you won’t come home. All Wanda can do is wait for Sparky to forget this learned behavior or forget you.

So, for the past two months, she’s been taking it one day at a time. It’s now the only way she knows how to survive. It’s working so far, she muses, as she stands before the proof of it while carrying Sparky under her arm, right in the middle of a quiet street in Queens. 

Wanda had loaned the capital for the business right after the divorce papers were signed, and when she got the alimony from it, it was more than enough to pay back the loan in full and still for some change.

She wanted to create something out of what she had destroyed. 

And that’s how the borough’s first Sokovian café came to be. Or at least will come to be when the renovations are finally completed. She can’t see much through the scaffolding that is still in place, but she can make out what it would look like once it’s officially open to the public.

Her contractor and fellow Sokovian migrant, Mr. Jacobs spots her from where he is installing the signage. “Ms. Maximoff!”

Wanda smiles up at him, brushing her bangs away from her sight. The haircut is recent and she kind of regrets it. “Is everything okay around here?”

“I believe so. There’s still some electrical stuff to finish, but I’m confident we’ll be done before your opening.” he tells Wanda.

Sparky starts squirming against Wanda’s hold. “Is it okay to come inside or should I come back another day?” Wanda asks.

“Of course. I had my boys clear out the area and install the A/C last night, so you should be comfortable.”

Perfect. She’s yet to test out the oven she ordered, and there are some new recipes she’d like to try. 

“And Ms. Maximoff?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry, this place is going to do great. They’re gonna love you and our culture.”

A feeling of warmth spreads through Wanda’s chest. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.” He gives her a salute before going back to work.

Wanda’s not ready for the emotion that consumes her when she steps inside her new café. She puts Sparky down on the hardwood flooring, and his nose immediately gets to work, sniffing every corner of the room he could find–which isn’t all that long to cover for a regular-sized Jack Russell Terrier like him. The rented space is relatively small, so Wanda had to be smart with its interior design; a long bench stretches from the open kitchen and counter to about two feet from the entrance, spanning two round dining tables that could sit two people at a time; by the window wall facing the street, is a high top table with two chairs. At most, three staff(including her) could fit in the open kitchen, along with a single espresso machine and a wall oven. All in all, the café can accommodate about six customers dining in at a time, which is why she’s hoping she’d do better with take-outs. 

Wanda did all the decorations herself, top to bottom. The floral ceilings are a combination of autumn colors–your favorite season–and pendant lights subtly drop from them to emit a faint, yellow glow. The polished concrete wall of the dining area gives it an industrial vibe, while red brick tiles clad the panels of the kitchen area. For the finishing touches, Wanda decided to place a variety of potted plants in every corner of the room. 

Standing at the center of it all, Wanda feels a sense of pride and fulfillment–something that seemed implausible to her just a few months before.

"Best coffee in the world. Maybe you should start a café business." You’d joke sometimes whenever she makes you coffee in the morning.

A shadow passes over her eyes as she looks out the window. Needless to say, there’s only one thing missing in it. The person she wants next to her when all her dreams come true.

You.

–

Pietro finishes a whole batch of white chocolate macadamia cookies by himself. Wanda’s twin brother flew in last weekend, a rare occurrence since she only sees him once a year at most. He’d be home in the holidays for dinner, and be gone the following day. He lives with a suitcase, and never stays in a city for longer than two weeks. Wanda wasn’t expecting he’d visit her after she broke the news of her divorce, knowing he had gone through the same ordeal twice already without fuss. Apparently, it’s a run-of-the-mill life event for her brother, and it almost did not make it to their bimonthly check-in calls. 

“You’re gonna have to pay me for those.” Wanda tells him. She’s crouched on the floor, feeding Sparky strips of dried meat as she takes a break between baking and practicing her Youtube-acquired skill of Latte Art.

“I thought it’s a welcome home gift.” Pietro says, licking off the crumbs from his fingers. With the bleach in his hair extending to his medium stubbles, their resemblance is close to nonexistent. 

“You earn ten times more than I do in a year.”

“So? What is family for if not free food?”

“It’s $52 dollars.” Wanda says.

Pietro hands her a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

Wanda smirks at him, pocketing the money in her apron. “I intended to.” She passes him a napkin, and gestures at his chin. He waves her off in a pompous manner, and instead, goes to the back of the shop to clean himself up. She didn’t think it’s possible to both know and not know someone at the same time. To look at them and see who they are versus who you think they’re supposed to be. In terms of money and status, he is miles ahead of Wanda, but perhaps at the cost of being unable to find the brother she shared her childhood with in Sokovia. Wanda’s not sure if he still exists beneath the layers of branded suits and expensive perfumes, she just knows she misses him terribly. 

“Second Chances,” Pietro proclaims as he returns a minute later, waving his hands wildly with an imitation of a fanfare. “A little corny if you ask me.”

“Well, I’m not asking you,” Wanda contends and then proceeds to scrub the empty tray that Pietro left in the wake of his cookie binge. “It’s a good name. People can interpret it however they want.”

“And you? What was on your mind when you came up with it?”

Wanda doesn’t answer that. 

“So,” Pietro jumps into a sitting position on the counter and lets his legs dangle from its edge. 

“How’s the quarter-life crisis, sis?”

Wanda cocks an eyebrow and gives him a once over. “Better than yours. All things considered.” 

Sparky comes up to him and stands on his hind legs to snuffle at his shiny loafers. 

“Touché,” Pietro laughs good-naturedly and crosses his legs to avoid the dog’s attention. “It’s weird though, seeing you get into this kind of thing.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks.

“You’re not a salesperson, Wands. Remember your girl scout days? Dad would buy all your cookies because you can’t sell for shit.”

Wanda snorts noisily through her nose. “Mom can’t bake for shit.” She notices the smile fall from his lips at the offhand jab at her brother’s favored parent. 

Wanda sighs. When she does get glimpses of the old Pietro, it’s mostly through negative triggers. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Wanda starts to apologize but Pietro quickly changes the subject without a preamble.

“You’re really not going to talk about it?” 

“About what?”

“Playing dumb isn’t a good look on you.”

Wanda suddenly drops the tray on the sink, the violent sound of metal hitting metal giving both of them a minor headache. She pauses to think, and then says, “How about you just ask me straight instead of skirting around the topic of she-who-must-not-be-named?”

“Okay,” Pietro says in an annoyingly placid tone. “What were you thinking, cheating on Y/N?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She did ask him to be blunt.

“I wasn’t. There’s… I don’t know how to explain it. There’s this missing gap, and I acted to fill that gap.” 

“Was it something that’s missing in your relationship?” Pietro asks and props his cheek on his palm. The question is so familiar to her because she’s asked it herself countless times, the day she kissed Vision for the first time. There wasn’t an epiphany nor were there pieces falling into place when she had slept with him. And when she thought she loved him, it wasn’t because she thought she loved you any less. She came to the conclusion, not too long ago, that perhaps there’s just something rotten inside of her that she simply wasn’t aware of. 

Wanda shakes her head, weary at making sense of herself and her decision to risk everything she’s built with you for something as cheap as a fling. “None of this was her fault. Her only mistake was falling for someone who’s way beneath her.”

“I always thought she’s too good for you, no offense.”

Wanda’s smile is brittle as she recalls how Pietro’s toast at the wedding started with that exact sentence, word-for-word. You had squeezed Wanda’s clammy hand as you listened to Pietro rant about Wanda, and jokingly express his regret that you married the lesser twin. Wanda apologized for his tactlessness, and you responded with a kiss to her cheek, telling her how wrong he was, how you were only good and she made you better. 

“I’m sorry, Wands,” Pietro tells her earnestly. “I can’t say I’ve been through the same thing even with two divorces under my belt. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with someone the way you both were with each other–or at least, the way she was in love with you.”

“Thanks, but that's not necessary. I’m going to fix it.” she says. 

It stings–the implication that Wanda was incapable of matching your love for her. But it only stings because it’s the truth. You deserve to be happy and she failed.  And yet, she also can’t survive the thought of you getting the happiness you deserve from someone else. After all this time, her selfishness hasn’t been tamed. 

Which is why Pietro’s next words hit her right in the gut. “Divorce can’t be fixed. Hell, it’s the only resolution for a terminal relationship. And hasn’t it crossed your mind that perhaps, she’s already met someone else?”

Wanda gives up on her search for the rolling pin. She cracks some eggs in a bowl and starts to furiously whisk by hand.

Maybe she’s an awful person for assuming you won’t be able to move on from her that easily. 

But that’s just how she sees it. 

“No.” she says.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I know her, Piet.”

Pietro starts clapping in slow, steady beats. “She divorces you and you’re still so smug about how she’s so crazy about you.” he says. 

“If you’ve ever felt loved by someone like her, you’d understand.”

Pietro ignores his sister’s underhanded attempt to hurt him back. He came to terms with the reality ages ago, that he’s probably not one of the lucky ones who will get to experience the kind love that Wanda boasts about with you. Maybe he had it once, not necessarily in a romantic sense. But when he thinks of love–real love–he thinks of no one but their estranged mother. 

“Or maybe,” He jumps off the counter to retrieve his coat hanging from one of the dining chairs.  “Love goes away eventually.”

“Not ours.”

Pietro couldn’t help the maniac laughter that escapes his throat. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Do you know how pathetic you sound?”

Wanda purses her lips, continues whisking. 

“Okay, how about this. If you really love her, then you’d at least want her to be happy, even if it’s not with you.” Pietro tries to reason. 

“Oh, so you’re suddenly an expert on the topic.”

“I’m a dick, not an asshole. And yes, there’s a difference.”

Wanda keeps working the whisk like a madwoman. Large amounts of bubbles are forming in the emulsion, and overbeating the egg mixture is definitely not in the recipe.

Pietro continues, “Yeah, I’m a cheater, same as you are–”

“Don’t you dare–” Wanda suddenly tosses the whisk on the worktop, a glint of something dangerous in her green eyes. 

“Let me finish,” Pietro appeases lightly. “I’m a cheater. I cheated on my ex-wives. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself as some anti-hero who has the potential to be an actual hero and become the person they deserve to be with. Because I’ll never be that guy.”

“We’re not the same. We share a birthday, but that’s where the similarities end.”

“We share the same DNA, Wanda,” Pietro smiles through his frustration. Excessive stubbornness–another quality innate to Maximoffs. “But that’s not the point. You know she’d be better off without you. As cliché as it sounds, the only way you can actually show her you love her is by letting her go–completely.”

The shuddering sigh that escapes her is immediately followed by erratic sobs that go out of control fast. Pietro is right there in an instant, an arm thrown over her shoulder as her whole body jerks, rasping for air. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” he murmurs into her crown. “You’ll be okay, Wands. I promise…you’ll be okay.”

“Will you be okay if I leave you here? I have to meet someone in a few.” 

Wanda heard you say in earnest. She lost herself for a while, stunned by the kindest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. The day flew by so quickly in your company, she hadn’t realized it was time to go. And to think that she almost skipped freshman orientation because going to New York University wasn’t exactly the plan. Columbia was–where her boyfriend was a junior. 

Her boyfriend, who she forgot texted her an hour ago asking if she was ready to go, and hadn’t heard back from her.

“Y-Yeah, my boyfriend is on the way to pick me up.” she mumbled, distracted by the glow of the sunset forming a halo around your head. You were beautiful in a way that was not entirely evident at first. Wanda was curious if anybody else had made the same discovery.

“It was nice meeting you, Wanda.”

“Likewise, Y/N.” she smiled like she’d been doing all day with you, and so frequently, that the muscles on her face were beginning to hurt a little. 

The smile you returned her way was glorious, but in a flash you were already walking away. Wanda couldn’t describe the way she fervently despised watching you go, especially without your number on her phone and no means to contact you in the future.  

“Y/N?” Wanda called out. Her heart seemed to swell and swing against her rib cage. 

“Yes?”

“Do you, maybe, want to hang out sometime?”

And the kindest eyes that ever looked at her gave the answer. 

Pietro leaves shortly after the tremors subside and her breathing returns to normal. The panic attacks aren’t that frequent, but she does get them now from time-to-time. They started right after the night you gave Wanda your wedding ring. 

With her brother gone, Wanda is left to wonder if you’ve met someone. She is left to wonder if you’re no longer miserable like she is, if you’ve taken considerable strides in moving on with your life. She tries calling you. Not to talk, but just to check if you still haven’t blocked her number. After several rings, you don’t pick up as expected. Not a setback. Not a progress either. She pretends you’re asleep or in the shower. She pretends you mean to call her back, but forgets to. 

And if a confirmation of not being blocked is all she gets, she’ll take it.

She’ll take what you can give even if it’s nothing.

[loverboy-cc]

Mara?

kinktober day no. 2

Then, for a terrifying moment, everything is perfectly still. Blade looms above you, one hand on his sword to hold himself up, the other holds you down by the nape of your neck.

Pairing: Blade/cis fem sub reader

CWs: dub con, semi-graphic description of gore, hunter/prey dynamic, violence, mind control (ish? He’s being controlled by the mara)

AN: Reader is explicitly referred to as a girl, and I reference afab anatomy more than once, PLEASE keep this in mind.

Kinktober masterlist

Marastruck! Blade who made a huge point of never letting you near him during fights. Because of the whole not recognizing your allies thing.

Marastruck! Blade who was not currently supposed to be fighting cloud knights. He was undercover with you trying to find a cafe you’d heard good things about.

Marastruck! Blade who Did Not respond well to being forced to fight in front of you, and ironically ends up being more brutal than usual. Because stress amplifies the effects of Mara.

Marastruck! Blade who ends up turning on you, barely giving you enough time to summon your weapon before he leaps towards you

A small part of you was thankful for how cautious Blade had been with you in regards to his Mara. In no small part because while you’d always known he was a dangerous man, it’s hard to believe he is when you’re only ever told of it. Grandiose stories of violence and gore that always sounded a little too fantastical to be real, even with the broad range of abilities displayed by your fellow steleron hunters.

But now, with the mangled corpses of a handful of cloud knights scattered around you; your blood soaked boyfriend in the middle, and the grotesque and horrifically wet sound of him removing his blade from the final body. The tall man that was your boyfriend stayed hunched over the corpse, panting as he drove his blade back through its rib cage. Snickering seemingly at the squelch that came with it.

Every cell in your body begged you to run. He doesn’t know you’re here, escape before he remembers you’re here!

… But you don’t, fear keeps you rooted to the spot as Blade stands to his full height. Eerily calm as he wipes the blood off of his sword before turning slowly to face you. His slow movements and seemingly calmed behavior are betrayed by the way his eyes glow. Hues of red and yellow that remind you a lot of the way predators are often drawn in comics or movies.

It’s hard not to feel hunted as he stills. Staring straight into you, you have half a mind to summon your weapon, and it’s a good thing you did. It’s sturdy form materializing just in time to block blades' first blow. Giving you just barely enough time to turn and sprint back towards the center of Aurum Alley

Not that you make it very far. Between his longer strides and the extent to which he’s used to running after his enemies. Blade is considerably faster than you, and you barely make it a block before he leaps at you again. The weight of him sends you tumbling, and as your body hits the ground you hear his sword dig into the dirt next to your ear, only barely far enough away to not cut you.

Then, for a terrifying moment, everything is perfectly still. Blade looms above you, one hand on his sword to hold himself up, the other holds you down by the nape of your neck. His knees rest snugly on either side of your hips as he forces you down, panting softly from the exertion

His voice is low and quiet when he speaks next, his breath on your neck sending a shiver down your spine. His voice borders on giddy and you can hear the smile on his face.

“I caught you, pretty girl, does that mean I get a prize?”

Prize? Your head swims as his grip on you loosens, just enough for him to adjust how you were laying. The hand on your neck moving to between your shoulders, the other pulling your hips up just enough for him to roll his hips against your ass, shamelessly rutting his growing bulge against you.

Blade growls above you when you squirm in his grip, putting more of his weight onto you as his rhythm falters, pulling away long enough to drag you onto your back before pressing your thighs as close to your ears as he could get them. Effectively pinning you down with his broad frame while his hands find the hem of your skirt. Working the smooth fabric up your thighs with one hand while the other pulled at the buttons on his pants, freeing his aching cock.

He groans low in his chest as he pulls your cotton panties aside, eagerly pushing the head of his cock past your slick folds and bottoming out with one harsh thrust. Sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he slammed his cock into your pretty cunt mercilessly. One of his hands making its way between your bodies to grope at your chest.

The thick haze of mara gradually dissipates as he mindlessly ruts into your gummy walls, chasing his own pleasure with little care for your own. But it was hard not to get off on the way he used you. His heavy cock splitting you open and pushing against your most sensitive spots.

Marastruck! Blade, who feels bad that you had to witness him fight firsthand. But his guilt ends there, and he will smirk and tease you about how much you enjoyed him using you while under the influence of the mara.

Marastruck! Blade, who is less hesitant about you seeing him fight, very aware of how much you get off on the idea of him chasing and catching you again.

© pvbbyboy •• 2023 •• Please do not translate/repost. reblogs are appreciated and requests are open!

~~

Taglist: @yarnnerdally • @starrry-angel • @yeonpm

Wanna be added? Send me an ask off anon and lmk if you want to be on the sfw only list!

[georgie-weasley]

Deep Wounds: Chapter 1

Warnings: swearing (James is a potty mouth), blood, scars, open wounds, doctors/healers, werewolf discrimination

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is the first official part in the Deep Wounds series! I'm really excited and I hope you all like it. For reference, the way this series will work is each full chapter follows the reader (that's you!!) while after each chapter there will be what I'm calling a half chapter that follows Remus or the other marauders. Those will typically be shorter

Series Masterlist Taglist

You stared at the map on the wall, hoping to finally figure out where you were going but it was useless. You had just transferred to St. Mungo’s from a small magical clinic that could have easily fit inside the hospital over a hundred times. Somewhere was an emergency room that took in whoever needed to be seen immediately. They were then sent to one of the different floors to be seen by a specialized healer if needed. You were supposed to be on one of those floors but the old woman that watched you fill out paperwork this morning didn’t mention which floor was the Creature-Induced Injuries floor. The Dangerous Floor, as it was also known, was supposed to be the location you were headed to but you couldn’t find it on the map. Either it wasn’t real or this magical map was messed up.

Supposedly, the map was supposed to show you the floor where you needed to go and the way to get there. It was extremely useful for patients trying to figure out if they needed to see a specialized healer to remove the splinters in their butt or not. You hoped the map would show you the way to the Dangerous Floor but all it did was flash “you are here” on the ground floor.

Right as you were going to give up and try to find a person that could help you, the doors to the emergency room swung open and a healer came barreling straight at you, pushing a man on a gurney. “Move! We need to get him to the Dangerous Floor!” Hey, that’s where you needed to be. Hey, that gurney is also getting really close to hitting you, like, really close.

“Oh shit.” You jumped out of the way just in time for the gurney to go right through the open elevator doors you had been standing in front of. Before the doors could shut, you and a young man squeezed inside. The healer glared at you.

“What part of ‘move’ didn’t you understand?” She hissed and looked back to the man on the bed.

“Well actually, I’m supposed to be going to the Creature-Induced Injuries floor. It’s my first day.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced at the other man in the elevator. He looked like he was the same age as you, maybe a year or two older, and he had wild black hair. He wore a pair of glasses and he had sweet brown eyes full of concern as he watched the other man. He had a ripped up shirt wrapped around his arm and a backpack hanging on his shoulder.

“Fine,” she sighed and as the elevator stopped at the next floor, she wheeled the gurney out into a long hallway. It was dark and had only a few windows that were old and boarded up. At the end of the hall there was a rust red door covered in scratches.

The four of you moved down the hall and beyond the door. Behind it was a large room with eight beds with a curtain between them to separate them and provide the smallest amount of privacy. Despite the floor of the hospital being bigger than the clinic you used to work at, it didn’t seem to be much better.

The other woman levitated the unconscious man and moved him to a bed as she began to work on the deep cuts covering his body. “You take care of glasses over here and figure out what did this.”

You nodded and turned to the other man who had been standing next to you and watching his friend. “Can I have you take a seat on this bed please?” You gestured to the bed next to the other man and smiled, hoping it would help calm him down. As he took a seat, you pulled out your wand and removed the shirt from around his arm. His wounds looked fairly shallow so he should be left without any scars. “What’s your name?”

“James Potter.” The name sounded very familiar but you couldn’t quite remember where you heard it before.

“Alright Mr. Potter, I’m Y/N L/N and I’ll be taking care of you ok?” You whispered a spell and slowly the bleeding stopped. James, who had been looking around you to watch his friend, gave his arm a quick glance as you worked. “What’s your friend’s name?” You checked one of the bedside drawers for a cleaning potion and luckily there was one.

“Remus Lupin.” James looked up at you once more as you started to pour the potion on his arm to clean the wounds.

After his arm was clean and the bleeding had stopped, you cast one more spell to encourage the skin to mend itself faster. With some gauze, you wrapped it to keep it clean. He was fine to leave now since his cuts were so superficial but based on the way he was watching Remus, you knew he wouldn’t want to leave any time soon. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Almost kickstarting James to life, he spun to look at you with wide eyes. “Well, you see the thing is, there was a hippogriff and it attacked us.”

“A hippogriff in the middle of London?” There was no way there could have been a rogue hippogriff in the middle of London.

James looked at his feet and shook his head. “It was in a forest actually.”

That made more sense. “What were you and Mr. Lupin doing in a forest with a hippogriff?”

The young man glanced at his friend and chewed on his lip. “Normally the forest is hippogriff free so we weren’t expecting to see one last night.” James picked at his nails and shifted in his seat. You may not have known him but it wasn’t hard to tell he was hiding something.

“Mr. Potter,” you put a hand on his knee to stop him from moving. “I need you to tell me the truth so your friend can be properly treated. Was it really a hippogriff?” He nodded. “Then why were you two in the forest with a hippogriff?”

Despite you trying to keep him still, James only moved around more. “Forgive me Moony but I gotta do it.” He looked away from Remus and turned to face you. “Remus and I and our friends were in the forest last night and it was all because he broke out of the shack and took off running and so we followed him. We almost got him back but then this fucking hippogriff came out of nowhere and tackled him and took him down. I jumped in to help him before the hippogriff ran off and then Remus was on the ground. So then we waited an hour and brought him here.”

“Hang on, hang on. He broke out of a shack and then was attacked and you waited an hour to bring him in? Why?”

At his story, the other healer stopped working on Remus and slowly turned to look at you and James. There was fear in her eyes. “Mr. Potter, are you leaving something out?” The woman asked.

“Remus is a werewolf.”

No one spoke. No one even dared to breathe too loud. The other healer, whose name you didn’t even know yet, jumped away from Remus. “I’m not doing this.”

Both you and James stared at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean? You can’t just stop taking care of him.” You said and jumped up from the bed.

“Do you not understand? He’s a werewolf! He was a monster last night and who knows what he could do now!” She shook her head and backed away. This was common for people to treat werewolves like this. You hadn’t interacted with many but from the stories you heard from other people, practically everyone was scared of them.

“So you’re just gonna leave him there to die?” James stood as well and gestured to Remus. “What kind of healer are you?”

The wounds on Remus were deep and while the other healer had managed to fix many of them, there were still some that needed to be taken care of right away. “Alright if you’re too worried to help a dying man, then move your ass.” You hissed and walked over to the bed Remus was on. When she didn’t move, you glared. “What part of ‘move’ didn’t you understand?”

She stepped back to give you more space as you got to work. You hadn’t been a healer for more than a year and while you had worked on many serious injuries, you never did it on your own.

You stared at Remus for a split second before deciding to get it together and do it. You rummaged through the drawer looking for more cleaning potion. After finding a couple of bottles, you laid them out on the table and turned to James. “Listen, I’m gonna need help and since she’s,” you gestured to the other healer, “useless, can you help me?”

James nodded and jumped to your side. “Of course. Anything for him.”

“Ok, I need you to pour the potions on the wounds that haven’t been taken care of yet. They need to be cleaned and then I can try to knit the skin back together. At least she managed to stop all the major bleeding.” You moved to the other side of Remus and got to work while James practically drowned the wounds in the potion.

The two of you worked together well seeing how neither of you knew each other half an hour ago. At some point you looked away from Remus for a moment to see if the other healer was still there but she had disappeared. Seamlessly, you and James moved around the bed and took care of Remus until all of the wounds had been cleaned and stitched together. “I’m just gonna wrap them so you can go ahead and sit down. Thanks for the help.”

James snorted and collapsed on the bed next to Remus. “I should be thanking you. Remus made me swear not to tell anyone how he got hurt in the first place because he knew some bullshit like this would happen.”

“But you told us anyway?”

“I had to. His life was on the line right?”

You hummed and finished wrapping his wounds and shrugged. “Not really. I mean she had stopped the bleeding and as long as it was cleaned he would have been ok. We can tell him he was dying if it will soften the blow.”

James smiled and laid down. “Thank you, seriously. Is it ok if I stay here and rest until he wakes up?”

“Of course. I’ll be around if you need anything.” You patted his leg and moved to the small desk that was in the center of the room. The other healer was still nowhere to be found so you did what you would have had to do at the clinic, paperwork.

“Before you get too settled, I do have a question for you. Why weren’t you scared of him?”

“Well,” you started, gathering your thoughts. “It isn’t his fault something horrible happened to him. Besides, I’ve always wanted to try and find a cure since no one else is. I only ever met one other werewolf and I want to help.”

James hummed and nodded. “Good to know.”

---

You had been working on paperwork for almost a half hour when James caught your attention. “Hey Doc, he’s waking up.” Quickly, you moved over to see Remus rubbing his eyes and trying to sit up.

“Don’t sit up just yet Mr. Lupin. You had quite the battle with a hippogriff.” You smiled and grabbed a pain relieving potion from the table and put your hand behind his head. “Let me help you lift your head so you can drink this. After ten minutes then you’re welcome to leave.” You took the time to really look at the young man while you helped him. He had to have been around your age but he seemed much older. He had dark purple bags under his eyes and his body and face were covered in scars. One look into his brown eyes and you knew he had been struggling for a long time; it would seem life had never been kind to him. After he finished the potion and you carefully set his head on the bed, you moved back to the desk. You had planned to do more paperwork but your attention was drawn back to James and Remus as you heard them talking.

“Prongs,” Remus began in a croaky voice. “Did we really have to come in here?” You didn’t know Remus but it was safe to assume that he, like most other werewolves, tried to avoid going to the hospital so they didn’t have to deal with the reaction people had when they figured out what he was.

“Yeah mate, we thought that hippogriff was gonna win.” James chuckled and sat at the foot of his friend’s bed. “We were really worried about you.”

Remus was quiet for a while and you were worried that maybe something was wrong but James wasn’t trying to get your attention so he must have been alright. Still, you risked a glance up from your paperwork to see Remus watching you. “Did you tell them?”

You looked back at your paperwork and tried to pretend that you didn’t hear them talking but somehow you knew Remus knew you were listening. “Yeah. I had to. They said it was life or death so both healers know.”

“Both? There’s only one here.”

You could hear the anger clearly in his response. “There were two. Doc over there was helping me and trying to weasel the truth out of me while this other healer was working on you. When I broke down after holding strong for a while, the bitch left. She said she was too scared to help you.”

You risked another glance at the boys and you saw the heartbroken look on Remus’s face for a second before indifference replaced it. “No surprise. So you did all the healing?”

“Not at all. Doc helped you after the other healer gave up. I did help a little since she needed the extra hands but she did her job.”

Remus watched you closely and began to sit up. “Great I guess. Real nice someone could do the bare minimum and do their job. I think it’s been ten minutes. Let’s go.”

At this, you ran over and offered a hand toward Remus to help him up. He looked you up and down before he stood on his own. His face contorted at the pain but he still refused to take your hand. James looked back at you and shrugged, wrapping an arm around Remus’s middle to help him up. “Thank you Doc for all the help but I guess we’ll be heading home now.”

James opened the backpack that had been tossed on the floor and pulled out a shirt. The shirt looked a little too small for Remus but he pulled it on anyway. It covered his stomach for the most part but you could still see his belly button poking out. He raised an eyebrow at James who shrugged. “I had to use yours on my arm so I stole Padfoot’s for you.”

You watched Remus limp toward the door as he tried to push James off of him. He looked so tired and broken and it tugged at your heartstrings. You wished there was some way you could help. “Wait!” You jogged after them, catching up in no time. They hadn’t gotten very far and it’s not like they were moving very fast anyway. “I want to help you.”

Remus glanced at James before shaking his head and continued to walk to the door. “Thanks but I don’t need your help or your pity. I have friends that can do that.” His words stung a little but you tried not to take it personally. After all, he was sure to have some sort of wall up after everything that’s happened.

“I mean I want to try and find a cure.” At this, he stopped and sighed. James looked hopeful at your words.

“Right, and why would you do that? I don’t know you.”

He was right. You didn’t know him so there was no reason you had to help him. You weren’t his friend; you were a stranger and you were pretty sure he didn’t even know your name. You had no reason to help him besides the fact that you wanted to. “I was top of my class at Hogwarts and Professor Slughorn said I was the best student he ever had. I’m great at brewing potions and I think, if you let me, I could make a cure.”

“No.” Remus didn’t even wait a second to think about it before he answered.

“What? Come on Moons, this nice healer is basically begging you to let her help. Give her a shot.” James pleaded with his friend. “It couldn’t hurt.”

“But it could. People have been looking for a cure for years and there’s never been one.”

You moved to stand in front of him with your hands on your hips. “They weren’t me. Honestly, I’ve wanted to try and find a cure for years but at the little clinic I was at, there were never enough resources. Please?”

“Yeah please?” James stood next to you and pouted as he looked at his friend.

You could practically see Remus trying to find a reason to shut you down again but as the seconds ticked by, he relented. “Fine. Not like I have a choice anyway.”

James threw his arms around you and hugged you close. “Amazing! He never gives in that fast! When are you done with work?”

Startled by the sudden hug, you extracted yourself from James’s arms and looked at the clock on the wall. It was only eight in the morning. “Three this afternoon.”

James smiled and rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbled an address on it and handed it to you. “This is my house. Come by after you’re done working and we can get started.”

With that, the two boys left you wondering what exactly you got yourself into.

Taglist (if your name is crossed out I can't tag you)

@100gaysnails @weasleybuns @s1aaaaayyyyyyyt @steelthistle @Andy200700 @asuperconfusedgirl @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls

[anime-rambles]

"OMEGA STOP PART 1"

Pairing: Alpha Bakugou x Alpha Kirishima x Omega Reader

Type: ABO Dynamic, Angst, blood, SFW

Word Count: 2900+

A/N: Seeing how everyone is loving “Welcome Home Omega” I decided to do another omegaverse fic this time with lots of angst. Thank you so much for all the kind words, reblogs, likes and follows. Was thinking of making a Part 2 for this? What do you think?

Summary: Omega y/n returns home to her alpha’s after being away in Europe, thinking she would be able to re-join her alphas and be happy. Only to discover they move on without her.

Link to Part 2 = https://anime-rambles.tumblr.com/post/657712192264814592/omega-stop-part-2

************************************************************************

I collect my suitcase from baggage claim and make my way towards the arrivals gate. It has been an incredibly long 8 years since I’ve been back home in Japan. After graduating UA with all my friends, I decided I needed a new path, something exciting that didn’t include my alphas. Being away from my family and friends has been one of the most difficult things to go through and more importantly being away from my alphas. It was nice to be needed and not just because of my second gender.

After graduating UA, I joined Fatgum’s agency and from there I met Jackie one of fat’s previous partners on the drug squad. She needed a bright new hero that wanted to work outside of Japan and head off a special unit in charge of investigating quirk enhancing drugs. At first everyone was onboard and excited fir me but as time went on, it was becoming increasing hard to keep in contact with my busy alphas. So, one Christmas, two years into the job we all agreed to stop dating and put our relationship on hold, until I was finished with the special unit or until one of the alphas said enough, come home. I agreed happily, never thinking I would get the come home call, but here I am. I left Europe and returned home.

The doors of arrivals opened in front of me, I look around the barrier hoping to see either of my boys, Bakugou or Kirishima, but neither blonde nor red head could be seen. I walk the corner a small bit, thinking they might be hiding but nothing. I spot movement in the distant, a blur of pink rushing to my arms, knocking me off balance.

“YYYY/NNNN, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR HOME” Mina sobs into my ear. “Mina” I say back hugging her tightly. Out of everyone in UA Mina stayed in constant contact with my updating me on the group’s latest gossip and everyone hero’s ranking. “Come on, lets get you home” She speaks again, taking one of my bags and my hand in hers. I smile to her and gladly accept her hand. Mina is an omega like me, after UA her and Sero got together and currently have a beautiful house and a serval fluffy cats. Once we reach the car and start our journey. Mina tells me of everyone, what they are doing and what is planned for my coming home party tonight.

“Wait, slow down, where are you taking me first” I say, laughing at her excitement. With her hands on the car wheel. She says “Bakugou and Kirishima’s” I pause for a second. They must just be living together and not actually still together without, right? They wouldn’t betray me, would they? These thoughts are fully my head, maybe coming home wasn’t a good idea. I should have ignored the “come home” agreement. What if they just want to use me to have their kid and toss me aside.

“Y/N, please say something, you made me promise not to talk about the boys when were away and right now you’re kinda scaring me.” She presses.

“I’m… just thinking. So out with it tell me what has been going on, why are they living together.” I asked shifting in my seat to look at her and she drives down the straight road.

“Okay, so it started whe….”

Mina basically said what I thought she might after I left fully and didn’t come back like we agreed. Kirishima and Bakugou stopped for a while, they didn’t live together, socialise or anything but after Kirhisma was badly injured in a battle, they moved back in with each other and kept their relationship quiet, it’s been 6 years, that they been together while I have been alone.

“So that’s basically all of it y/n, I’m sorr…”

I cut her off, “Mina this is not for you to apologise for, you kept your promise to me and now I must face the music as they say in Europe.” We had arrived outside their house ages ago, but we ended up talking. I step out of the car and move to grab my bags. I look up to the house, it’s huge and white. Very modern and what’s looks to be very expensive. But what can you expect from the Number 1 and Number 5 heroes in Japan. Mina steps out and comes to my side of the car to hug me goodbye and to tell me the information for tonight. Just then the front door opens, Kirishima steps out with a huge grin on his face. He has changed a lot since I left. He is like a wall, thick with muscle and sporting a high red ponytail.

“There she is,” Kirishima says, holding out his arms as he makes his way down the path towards me. I drop my bags and run to him. I can be anger later, but right now I need this hug. “Here I am,” I say back to him, I took my face into his neck to breathe him in, he tries to do the same but it is unable as I have my marks and scent glands covered as Europe has different rules than us. I can sense the confusion and say I will explain later. Kirishima greats Mina and they discuss briefly about this evening's plans and Mina is off on her way, waving goodbye. With his arm around me, he guides me inside towards the kitchen. We each stand on opposite sides of the Island, not knowing what to say first.

“So, where’s Bakugou? I thought you would both be at the airport” I say frankly to him, showing my frustrations. “He had to work, but he should be back home soon,” Kirishima replies shuffling his feet. I stare at him, I want to voice my anger, I want him to know how much I hurt, I need to do this with Bakugou. “Okay” I reply looking at my bags, why did I come here, why did I think we could go back to normal. “He’ll probably be late like always though, why don’t show you to your room and you can get ready for this evening” He smiled at me, like he trying to form an olive branch between us. I nod and follow him out of the room and up the stairs. All around me are reminders, parties I could not attend, award shows I missed but right now I can’t dwell on that. My time in Europe was the best experience of my life and right now I want to go back. Kirishima leads me to a guest room and leaves me to get ready. I sigh, this is going to be difficult.

************************************************************************

Doing the finishing touches to my hair, I smooth my dress down as I look in the mirror. I’m wearing a tight-fitting black dress, that is off the shoulders. I rub my hands down my neck, wishing I could have had the surgery to remove my mark guards yesterday before I came home. Just to show them, that I kept my promise to them. I hear noises downstairs, Bakugou had arrived home ages ago but did not even come to say hello, just went straight to the shower. Although I know what Mina told me was true, I needed proof if I was to enter an argument with Bakugou. I walk a small bit from my room trying to stay quiet, I turn a corner and see a wall of photo frames, most are from UA and some are from Dates we three had together. The difference, I was no longer in the photos, I was cut out. You could see my arm or a sliver of my hair and maybe an eye. I felt rejection, my inner omega whined. Why would they do this to me? I ripped the frame from the walls and marched downstairs. My heels clicked on the floor beneath me. I rounded the corner and enter the kitchen not bothering to wait for their conversation to finished. I throw the frames onto the countertop and look up at both of them making eye contact. If I wasn’t so mad and hurt, I would be shocked at how mature and sexy they both are right now. Kirishima's hair is half up, half down being supported with braids and he is in a maroon shirt opened slightly. Whereas Bakugou wears a white shirt and supports an undercut. My alphas have matured, I suppose I have as well.

Kirishima looks at the frames and stays quiet. Bakugou does not dare to break eye contact with me.

“So, let me get this straight. I leave home, to become great in something that is bigger than me. I leave my alphas with an agreement, that we all would hit pause, and eventually I would come back or get a called from either of you to come home. I follow the rules, and it seems to me what I got in thanks was to be cut from your lives.” I raise my voice, guesting to the pile in front of me.

“tck…” Bakugou replies and looks at Kirishima.

“Don’t tck me Bakugou, it seems to me that I’m not even wanted here anymore, so why was I called home, let me guess you need an omega to have your child and then I’m to disappear,” I respond. “No that’s not why we called you back” Kirishima speaks up, slightly walking towards to appear less hostile.

“Funny how you call us your alphas but yet, our marks, our bond is no longer on your neck,” Bakugou responds, pointing towards me. “They are not gone, they are covered by a skin slip, in Europe is safer to have them covered in case you are kidnapped and forced to bond with someone,” I say back to him. “Omega, please let us explain, I understand your hurt, but we want you still, your part of our family,” Kirishima replies placing a hand on my elbow. I jerk away from him.

“So, all this time, when I was away, suffering through my heats alone. Omega depression after omega depression. You two, were what? Together happily rutting away.”

“Yes, how do we know you never had it off with anyone else,” Bakugou said leaning on the Island in front of me. “Bakugou, don’t say that -” Kirishima scolded him. “- we don’t think that y/n”. I stand there shocked; I can sense he is hurt but right now I will not be his vent.

“ah, I see, I was away fucking my way through Europe apparently and my alphas decided that instead of coming to see me and to tell me. They went behind my back” I stare at Bakugou not daring to back down. “How do we know you weren’t, how do we know you didn’t get our marks removed?” Bakugou asked.

I scuffed and turned out of the kitchen, towards my bags that were left at the bottom of the stairs. Both Alphas stayed in the kitchen and spoke to each other. I opened my bags and reached into it to find a wrapped plastic bag. I walked back into the kitchen, hearing Bakugou raising his voice at Kirishima, “I can’t Kiri, you almost died.” Kirishima hushed Bakugou as I re-entered the kitchen. I threw the bag at Bakugou.

“Go on, open it -” I say with my hands on my hips. “- There’s your proof” I stand and watch it. Bakugou opens the bag and pulls out two jumpers, one of his and one of Kirishima’s. Their scent has well worn out but mine could be smelled. Years of being alone, years of depression, laid in their hands. Kirishima’s eye watered. “This proves nothing, maybe if you weren’t lying about our mark being gone, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Bakugou said, dropping the jumpers on the countertop. “What do you want me to do, perform surgery right now, you know once you never doubted me” I laugh under my breath.

“Yeah well once, you weren’t such a slut, betraying your alp-“Bakugou responded but Kirishima stepped in creating a barrier between us. Tears started to form in my eyes, my vision blurred. Fine, if Bakugou wants proof right now that I was loyal then fine, I’ll give it to him.

I look at my nails and smile to myself, I thank whatever god is listening that I have long pointed nails today. Kirishima is currently speaking to Bakugou, standing in front of me. I can no longer hear him. All I know is, those skin slips have to go now. I take a deep breath in and dig my nails into my neck around where the stitched used to be. I whimper, both can smell blood and turn to look at me. I rip the slip from my skin, blood starts to pour from my neck but nothing that would majorly hurt me. I reach for the other and dig my nails in. “Y/n stop, what are you doing” Kirishima reaches to stop me, but he’s too late I pulled the other off and make eye contact with Bakugou. “You wanted your proof, here you are Bakugou, take a whiff I have NEVER BETRAYED EITHER OF YOU” I scream, throwing the slips onto the counter and storm off.

“Omega come back now” Bakugou shouts after me, I can hear him chase me and reach for my arm. I pull it forward and turn to face him. Tear are leaving my eyes, ruining my makeup, my dress ruined from the blood. “What Katsuki, you believe me now? What do you want from me, why are you mad?” Bakugou stands in shock, unable to talk. “ANSWER ME NOW,” I scream again. Bakugou reaches forward grabbing my arms, tears forming in his. Kirishima was leaning on the door behind him.

“HE ALMOST DIED, AND YOU WEREN’T THERE, I WAS ALONE, WATCHING HIM DIE AND YOU WERENT THERE, YOU PROMISED ME I’D NEVER BEEN ALONE, AND YOU LEFT ME ALONE WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK” he roared at me. I shoved Bakugou off me.

“I CAME HOME WHEN EIJIROU WAS IN HOSPITAL” I shouted back, both alphas heads shot straight up and looked at me. “I was there, I broke me promise to stay away until I was asked by either of you to come home. But I saw the fight, I saw Eijirou get knockdown and didn’t get back up. I hopped on the nearest flight and came home. You need proof, ask Fatgum, Denki, Tamaki, Deku.. anyone who sat in that waiting room.” I said looking into Bakugou's eyes. Kirishima walked forward to join us. Bakugou went to speak. “No you let me speak, I was there. Kirishima opened his eyes and called me an angel and then you shot into the room in a panic and threw yourself on him. Bakugou you looked in my eyes and didn’t say a word, so I stepped back, you saw me there, you. Don’t blame this on me. Knowing how angry you would be, Deku came and got me, promising to watch over both of you.” I stopped to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“How dare you hold that over me Katsuki Bakugou,” I say to him, Kirishima reaches for my hand as if to pull us all back together. I step back, I need to breathe to get out. I walk about the front door, grabbing my handbag. “I’ll see you at the party, some welcome home this was,” I say not looking back and slam the front door.

I walk down the path and reach for my phone, dialing Mina’s number. “Hey girly, I’m just about to leave for the pub,” Mina says down the phone. I start to cry and sit down on the curb. “Sero, wait a second” Mina whispers away from the phone. “Y/n, what’s happened, what’s going on,” She says again her voice has lowered. “Mina I need some help; I can’t see everyone looking like this,” I say back to her. I cry again, I can hear the door behind me open and I stand. I turn and see Kirishima, “Y/n wait please, come back in, we can sort this out,” he says, and I look over his shoulder. Bakugou is frozen in the same spot, staring at the floor. “I’m almost there, start walking to me,” Mina says and hangs up. I bend down and undo the straps of my heels, steeping out of them leaving them on the step. I start to run down the street, I need some quiet, I need to think.

“OMEGA STOP” Bakugou shouts behind me, but I can’t. I see Mina’s car and run towards it.

[lazyevaluationranch]

On a post about the Blue Haired Girlfriend's quixotic citrus breeding experiments, @voidingintotheshout​ asked:

I mean, if you wanted a hearty citrus relative, why didn’t you just grow Osage Orange? They can grow as far north as Michigan which is surely further north than anyone could reasonably expect to grow a citrus tree. They’re not edible but then hearty orange isn’t either. Osage Orange are so cool and such a interesting historical plant from the Shelterbelt era of American agriculture. Apparently they do smell like citrus.

This is part three of three. Part one. Part two.

Now you've done it! It's time for A Very Brief (But Also Insufficiently Brief) History of Twentieth Century Hardy Citrus Cultivation! Growing citrus trees this far north is kind of nuts, it's true, but I promise you it is not even close to the weirdest things people have done to grow citrus in places where the citrus doesn't think it should grow.

A note: This post will written using the Swingle citrus taxonomy system, including things that are definitely wrong. The citrus taxonomic tree looks like that one box of orphaned computer cords I keep moving with me to new houses "in case I need them" except some sort of adorable five-dimensional kitten has entertained herself with them and some of the resulting knots are not technically possible in our space-time continuum. 

The powers that be gave us citrus because nothing pleases them like seeing a geneticist cry.

1. The Migrant Trees

The Soviet Union wanted lemons for tea, and they wanted to be independent enough not to have to trade with anyone else to get them, which meant they wanted to grow their own citrus. That part of the world is not a great place to grow plants that die when the temperature goes below zero, but at the foundation of the Soviet Union, there were citrus orchards in the warmest part of Georgia, along the Black Sea. Specifically, there was about, uh, one and a half square kilometers of somewhat implausible citrus orchard.

Hang on, it is about to get way less plausible.

This is the great citrus migration: any tree that did well in one spot, they'd try planting its seeds a few kilometres further north, or a few kilometres further east. Prizes were offered for breeding hardier citrus. Slowly the orchards spread, but they were extremely weird orchards.

It's usually a few degrees warmer at ground level than up in the air, and there's way less wind. So as the trees grew, they were bent over and tied along the ground. Some of them had the central trunk run in a straight line along the ground, with branches spreading out from it like the leaves of a fern, like an espaliered tree on its side. Others were starfish shaped, with the central trunk looped down until it ended up next to the base, and the branches sprawling out along the ground from the centre like starfish legs. The citrus trees were no taller than particularly vigorous strawberry plants, but they survived the winters, and you could throw a blanket over them to help them stay warm.

None of that helped if the ground froze solid, so they needed Underground Citrus. You'd dig a ditch, down below the lowest area where the ground froze, and you'd plant flat Starfish Trees or Flat Frond Trees running along the bottom of it, too deep to freeze. In winter, you'd just cover the ditch with boards any time the temperature was expected to go below freezing - citrus would tolerate the lack of light, but not the cold. Mandarins (Citrus reticulata) seemed to do best, so that’s most of what was grown.

It is a nearly unimaginable amount of work to grow citrus this way, along the bottoms of pits and trenches. We are experimentally trying to grow a Soviet-developed mandarin breed of unknown parentage, Shirokolistvennyi, but we will definitely not be putting in that level of effort.

2. The Mixed Up Trees

There are a couple species of citrus that tolerate cold well, but taste awful. A lot of effort has gone into crossbreeding them with more edible citrus. The results are ... mixed.

The Ichang Papeda (Citrus cavaleriei) generally survives temperatures down to -18 degrees C. It is stoic and calm and has mastered emptiness. Unfortunately, it has mastered emptiness too well. The fruit smells like lemons, with maybe a hint of rose, but there's nothing to eat here. It has a rind and seeds. No juice, no flesh.

(Photo by Michael Saalfield)

The Ichang Papeda is the parent or grandparent to several delicious, extremely sour Asian citrus types. Yuzu/yuja smells like grapefruit and clean wet stones from the bottom of a fast-flowing stream. Sudachi smells like grapefruit and leaves with dew on them. (I haven't met kabosu or any other papeda hybrids personally, but they are numerous.)  They're all too sour to eat plain, unless you really need to turn your face inside out for some reason, but make for excellent flavouring. 

(We have a yuzu tree and a sudachi tree and they're surviving, but no fruit yet.)

Trifoliate orange (Poncirus trifoliata) can survive temperatures down to -30 degrees C. This may be partly because, uniquely amoung citrus, they can drop leaves in autumn or winter and regrow them in spring, like a maple tree. They also produce an internal antifreeze. They are angry, twisted, thorny little plants that yell swears when you walk past them. They make a great hedge. The fruit is furry, smells like flowers and pine trees and taste like burnt, bitter plastic. It may or may not be possible to breed the horrible taste completely out of trifoliate oranges without losing cold-hardiness, if it's due to their antifreeze chemicals. Here’s Stabby:

(Photo by Rob Hille)

Even the least terrible trifoliate crossbreeds are bitter enough to qualify as “acquired tastes.” There are recipes for trifoliate marmalade: put a dozen trifoliate oranges, a kilogram of sugar, and a kilogram of pebbles in a pot, cook until it gels, then sieve out the oranges and eat the pebbles. 

We are growing a trifoliate orange / minneola orange hybrid. And, of course, someday our own trifoliate hybrids. The Blue Haired Girlfriend planted 200 trifoliate oranges a couple years ago. There are fewer now, but the survivors have lived through two winters of snow and frost, and they might have somehow gotten more stabby. We're going to breed them, to each other or to less angry fruit, try and make something new and good from them.

I've limited this post to twentieth century hardy citrus breeding, but I have to give a shoutout to somatic hybridization, a decidedly twenty first century technique, where you take a cell from each of two different plants, remove their cell walls, put them next to eachother, and shock them with electricity until they merge into a single cell whose nucleus contains all genes from both plants. Then the new plant is like, "Wow, I guess these are all my genes? It seems like a lot, haha, but it's not like somebody made me from dismembered body parts and electricity, that is not how science works. Anyway I guess it's time to do some plant stuff now."

3. The Mutant Trees

In the 1950s, people started using radiation to randomly scramble the genes of plants. You'd irradiate seeds enough to change the genes somehow, and then you'd have to plant them to see what had happened. Maybe it was people horrified by the atomic bomb desperately wanting to find some life-supporting use for atomic fission, maybe it was government-supported cold war "atom bombs are good actually, look how many we have, USSR" propaganda. Probably both. 

This time period also saw serious plans for Orion, a spaceship with a huge metal plate for a butt, intended to be propelled by exploding atomic bombs under it, which I am not actually making up.

Thousands of people in Europe and the US signed up to receive seeds with random mutations in the mail, plant them, and report back on what they heck they grew into and if it had any useful weirdness. (The gamma radiation used to mutate the seeds did not make them radioactive themselves - the seeds were completely safe.) There were also more formal and carefully controlled university research programs in China, Japan, and the US, where plants where grown in a circular research garden with a coverable radiation source at the centre, so that the farther you got from the centre, the less radiation the plants got. Radiation breeding is less popular than it used to be, but Japan still has a very productive citrus radiation breeding program.

The most popular radiation-bred citrus is the "Rio Red" grapefruit and its offspring, which has a much deeper red than non-mutant red grapefruit.

There aren't many radiation-developed citrus breeds noted for cold-hardiness - with radiation you get whatever you get  - but there are a few, and I want one just because I think they're neat, a monument to that lovely human vision that looks at terrible weapons and somehow sees glossy-leaved trees with bright fruit.

4. The Monster Trees

Citrus are usually grown via grafting. That is, you plant a seed from a fast-growing sturdy breed, you let it grow roots and all that, and then you cut the top off and replace it with a branch from a more delicious breed. The two citruses grow together, and you end up with a tree that's disease and cold resistant in the roots, below the graft, but makes tasty fruit above the graft.

Occasionally, this process goes Wrong. 

The first recorded instance is the tree called Bizarria, discovered in 1640. Someone attempted to graft a sour orange branch onto a citron. But instead of a clean line between sour orange branches and citron roots, the graft was damaged somehow, and the two different species of cells got tangled and mixed through the whole tree. It has branches that produce citron fruit. It has branches that produce sour orange fruit. And it has branches that produce, uh ... these:

(Photo by Labrina)

Most graft chimeras are made accidentally, when the graft site is damaged. Trifoliate orange is often used as rootstock, so there are many reported chimeras involving trifoliate orange and a nicer fruit. The mixed-up cells can be arranged a lot of ways, but it's possible to have the outside layer of the tree be trifoliate orange, and the core of the tree be the other citrus (periclinal chimera). This means you could theoretically get a tree with frostproof trifoliate leaves and branches, but fruit that doesn’t taste like burnt plastic rolled in quinine.

This lucky monstrosity has, in fact, reportedly happened. Twice. There is the Prague Citsuma, discovered in a greenhouse in Prague and suspected to have been created by a Soviet breeding program. And then there is the Hormish, discovered in China and thought to have been made by frostbite messing up the clean lines of the graft. The Blue Haired Girlfriend has managed to track down budwood from the Prague Citsuma - I’m so excited! - so we'll see how the fierce thorny monster tree with a heart of gold, or at least heartwood of gold, does for us.

5. Conclusion

Humans have been trying to grow citrus trees where they don't belong for nearly two thousand years, at least since the Jewish Diaspora and people trying to grow holy etrog trees - trunks gnarled as barnacle stones and the whole tree scented like the best dream you can't remember - in Europe. Maybe longer.

The Blue Haired Girlfriend's citrus-breeding schemes aren't going to singlehandedly transform Canada into a net citrus exporter. But history shows us: it might be possible to have a little gleaming sweetness from the stony ground here, with the ravens and the fir trees and the auroras. A sweetness we made ourselves, that exists nowhere else. 

Or maybe we'll just have a bunch of weird inedible fruit. I don't know, but it's worth finding out, worth weaving together leaf and thorn and stone and the light of our hands as the years unwind. Worth it to have a quixotic project we can expect to spend decades on together, hands and hearts. This is how home is made, sometimes, with a balcony full of angry thorny little trees that shout swears at passerby.

[angryschnauzer]

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass. 

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed. 

-

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

-

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…” 

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

-

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

-

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss. 

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

-

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go. 

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

Warning: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader relationship.

Summary: After freeing the widows from chemical subjugation and destroying the red room, you and Yelena finally settle down.

Part 1 & Part 2

The widows welcome you, the ones you trained with and the ones you didn’t. After Dreykov was gone and you had nothing but time. Melina and Alexei go to work on replicating the antidote. Creating enough to free all chemically subjugated agents.

It’ll take time. But the more you free the more are willing to help. Some of the widows just leave once they are given freedom. Ready to wash their hands of all of this and start living. You understand that more than anything. Eventually the operation is running on such a large scale they hardly need you at all.

Natasha hasn’t reached out since you separated after the red room. Probably off with the Avengers trying to save the world again. No one blames her, for her inability to be still. Not even Yelena.

“So,” you plop down on the couch beside Yelena. “What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring up at the ceiling. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to make it this far.”

“Yeah.” You tug at a loose strand of her dirty blonde hair. “That makes two of us.”

“We could pretend to be normal.” Yelena offers. “What would a normal person do?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “I’ve never been one.”

“Maybe...settle down.” Yelena’s eyes are far away.

“Would you have wanted to-“ You break off, trying to sort out the words. “I mean if you could…would you have a baby?”

She raises her brows, “I never thought about it.” A long pause. “I wouldn’t know how to be a mother.”

Neither would you. You’ll never be right. Whatever that is, was, or might have been. Always a little too guarded and rough around the edges. “You never waste time thinking about things you can’t have.” You sink farther into the cushions, her pinky skates over your own. Taking the invitation you twine your fingers together.

“I thought about you.” She lowers her eyes to the coffee table. “Everyday. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I-“

“The red room took that from me too.”

You shake your head at her. “They can never take anything from you or anyone else ever again,” you whisper. “And to be clear you can have me.”

A laugh rumbles out of her chest at the news. “I can?”

“I mean if you still want me.” You tease, “I know that the chase is half the fun for you. So I can keep on running. I’m one foot out the door-“

“I am tired of running.” Yelena murmurs, curling up against your side.

“Me too.” Your chin rests atop her head.

“Then stop doing it!” She scolds, slapping your arm playfully in retaliation.

“I will if you will.” You know why she runs. The same reason you do. Because you’re afraid. That maybe some parts of you are too broken to love.

She mulls it over for a moment. “Truce. I don’t run. You don’t run.”

“Deal.” You give her fingers a squeeze.

“Except into the face of danger.” She clarifies, only half kidding. “Then we run, straight ahead.” Yelena motions with her free hand. “But together.”

“Together.” You agree, with a soft smile.

“We could get a dog.” The tone of her voice tells you that she is invested in the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog.” You prop your feet up on the coffee table.

Yelena hates anything but a straight answer. Still feeling the need to convince you, she presents the facts. “Dogs are really cool! They have special powers.”

You chuckle, “dogs do not have powers.”

“Yes!” Yelena argues, “they can predict natural disasters and judge character.”

“That’s a special power?” You quip, “I can do that too.”

She grumbles under her breath.

“I want one.” You sigh. Feeling all the tension leave her body.

“I knew you did.” She smiles, contently.

———————————————————————

Dogs might have powers, but the only thing your puppy currently seems to posses is the ability to chew up anything in her path.

“Yelena have you seen my-“ you pause, taking in the scene before you, “shoes.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yelena holds up a hand.

The tiny puppy beside her squeaks, not quite a bark yet. Your demolished sneaker tumbling to the ground.

“What happened?” You run both hands over your face.

She sweeps the dog into her arms. “I told Fanny we could go for a walk once you got out of the shower. She was excited, Y/N! She was trying to bring your shoes to you. But she got distracted, only a little.”

“A little?” You can’t help but smile.

“Look at this face,” Yelena waves Fanny’s paw at you. “You can’t be mad at this face. Tell her girl. Say, you can’t be mad at me Mom, I’m trying my best.” She brings the dog closer.

You raise a hand to pet Fanny lightly. Yelena’s right of course, there is no being mad at that face. “Let me find a pair of shoes that isn’t mangled. Then we’ll go for a walk.”

“I’ll wait with Fanny.”

“Of course you will.” You retreat to your bedroom. Rummaging through the closet in search of some sort of footwear. You’d settle for slippers at this point. Fanny joins you after a moment. Nuzzling at your ankle as she whines.

It’s not everyday that she follows you, she is Yelena’s dog and never lets you forget it. “You’re really excited aren’t you?” More whining. You scoop Fanny up. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You huff, finally locating a pair of sandals. Slipping them on quickly so you can return to Yelena and gloat about being Fanny’s favorite. “Hey baby, I don’t know what you did, but look.” You smile, gazing up as you present the dog…to an empty room. That’s odd. Maybe she’s waiting outside.

You grab the leash Yelena abandoned on the countertop, securing it to Fanny’s collar. “Come on girl. Let’s go find Mama. Where’s Mama?”

Fanny follows you out the door, onto the walkway.

“Yelena?”

Nothing.

You scan the area, no sign of her. “Ok…” Back into the house, you check the bathroom next.

“Yelena!” You shout, knowing you’ll feel stupid once she replies. But she doesn’t.

A buzzing from the cell phone in your back pocket draws your attention. You set Fanny down gently, accepting the call and moving the device up to your ear. “Alexei?”

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” His voice booms through the speaker.

“Are you ok?” You ask immediately. Leaning down to grab the television remote, turning to channel thirteen, still broadcasting it’s usual gameshow.

“I am alone.” He cries through the speaker. “Melina left me with her pigs.”

“What do you mean she left you?” Something is very wrong.

“She disappeared.” He says somberly, “didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The dramatic monologue continues. “I give her back rub every night and then-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Absolutely not.” Under no circumstance is he going to tell you what happens next.

“I have made mistakes, but this! This is cruel.” Alexei, clearly distraught begins cursing in Russian.

“Alexei, I know you’re upset but I need you to listen.”

“What?” He asks. “What is it?”

“Yelena is gone too.” You inform him. Your eyes flicker over the words at the bottom of your tv screen. “People disappeared all over the world.”

You fall back onto the couch, feeling all the air leave your lungs.

More hysteria on the other end of the line. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna find Natasha. Maybe she knows something.” Assuming that Natasha is still here.

“What about me?”

“Come to Ohio. You can dog sit.” You offer, familiar numbness seeps into your limbs.

“I have nine pigs!” Alexei shouts back.

“We have a backyard, don’t worry.” You hang up before he has a chance to argue.

You return to the call screen. Scrolling to find a different contact. Pressing the dial button beside her name.

It rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello.”

“Natasha,” you let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What the hell happened?”

——————————————————————

The Avengers fortress isn’t exactly how you imagined. Not very homey.

You park your car in the lot. Removing your keys from the ignition and stowing them in your back pocket. The clear rectangular keychain with a picture of you and Yelena inside sticks out. Clinking when you round the vehicle to retrieve Fanny from the passenger seat. “Come on, Fanny.”

She wags her tail, waiting expectantly to be carried.

“You’re spoiled, you know.” You sigh, taking the puppy into your arms and closing the door behind you.

The front gate is open but Natasha takes a moment to locate. She cut her hair up to her shoulders, dyed it blonde. “Hello stranger.”

“You got a dog.” She says, in greeting.

“Yeah.” You reply, not in the mood for small talk. “It was Yelena’s idea.”

“I knew she’d sucker you into that.”

“It’s not like she could make me do anything I didn’t want to.” Your finger slides along the edge of the metal table Natasha’s seated behind.

She barks a laugh, “that’s a lie.”

Maybe so. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Still cool. I like the hair too,” you motion toward her blonde locks.

“That’s not really mine either, is it?” She remarks.

“Is anything ever really ours?”

“No.” She frowns. “I guess not.”

“What happened?” You ask again.

“It’s a long story,” Nat crosses both arms over her chest. “You might want to take a seat.”

You clear your throat, pulling out the chair beside her. Fanny curls up in your lap, curious eyes darting about every now and then. You tell yourself it’s because she’s in a new place, but part of you knows, she’s looking for Yelena.

Natasha stares down at her hands. “Have you ever heard of infinity stones?”

You shake your head. “Must be an avenger thing.”

“There were six of them, scattered all over the galaxy. If a person has all six they can use them in anyway they choose. Thanos, used them to eliminate half of all living creatures.”

“Are you the only one left?” You lean in.

“No.” She sniffs, blinking away tears. “There’s others.”

“So where are they?” The place looks abandoned. “Why aren’t you charging into battle?”

“Because we lost. Probably the worst we’ve ever lost.” Natasha clenches her jaw. “By the time we found Thanos again he already destroyed the stones.”

“We’ll try again.” You decide immediately. This isn’t over.

“Will we?” Natasha shakes her head with a smirk.

“If she was gone for good I would know it.” You tell her truthfully. “I would feel it, in my heart and I don’t.”

“You didn’t see it happen. I saw him snap his fingers and-“

You lay your hand over hers, squeezing tight.

“Did you see her go?” She asks, voice just above a whisper. “Yelena. Did you see her?”

“No.” You confess, “I didn’t see.”

Natasha closes her eyes. “That’s why you still have hope.”

“Look maybe you’re right.” You shrug, “even so, now seems like a really stupid time to give up.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fanny.” You inform her.

“Come on.” She rolls her blue eyes. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you didn’t actually name a dog after one of those stupid aliases Rick made me.”

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“I guess a dog’s better than a pig.” Natasha reasons. “Are they still here?”

“Not Melina.” You break the news quickly. Like tearing off a bandage. “But Alexei and all nine of her pigs are on their way to our house in Ohio.”

“Sounds crowded.”

“Always room for one more.”

——————————————————————

You stay like that for a long time. Hopeful. Sure that this was all some nightmare that you could wake up from; fight your way out of.

And then five years passed.

Now you come to see Natasha twice a month, just to check in. Alexei and his pigs have taken up permanent residency in the home you bought with Yelena. As for you, you bounce around. Never staying in one place too long.

“Any news?” You wonder, leaning against the doorframe of Natasha’s meeting room.

“No.” She bites out. Kicking her foot up on the desk. “You should move on.”

“Is that what you call this?” You flick your wrist in her direction. “Crying into a peanut butter sandwich.”

“It’s therapeutic.” She waves the bread at you. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” You take a seat, reaching across to make a sandwich of your own. “It’s not the sandwich’s fault.”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” Steve says, announcing his presence. Captain America is as self righteous as ever.

“Didn’t you grieve for a century over a girl you kissed one time?” You arch a brow at him, licking wayward peanut butter from the pad of your thumb. “Five years is just a drop in the bucket.”

Steve purses his lips, you have a point. “It wasn’t a century.”

“Close enough.” You mumble around a mouthful of your dinner.

“Want a bite?” Natasha offers half of her sandwich to him.

“No thanks.” He takes a step closer. “I’d offer to make you a real dinner, but already look pretty miserable. Where’s your dog?”

“Visiting her granddad.” Everyone and their mother loves that damn dog.

“Oh yeah, my great adversary.” How could he ever forget. “Is he still wearing that stupid suit?”

“I’m pretty sure the suits are stowed away. But it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Your mind wanders to the vest. The one Natasha returned to you after Yelena was gone. The one you retired because it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does.

Most things remain untouched in the Ohio house. Your pictures. Your memories. Your plans. You can’t get rid of them. Can’t stomach being around them either.

Someone, a man, alerts the security cameras, pounding on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello! Can you hear me?”

“How old is this video?” Steve asks, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s the front gate.” Natasha breathes, enlarging the image.

“Do we know him?” You squint at the man in question.

“It’s me, Scott Lang, Antman. I met you guys at the airport in Germany a few years ago. I had a mask on, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.” He rambles on.

Natasha presses the access panel, opening the gate.

You straighten yourselves out, before he makes it down the long hallway into the common room.

Scott paces, a lot. Nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Scott.” Steve finally cut in. “Are you ok?”

“Have any of you ever studied quantum physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok. Alright so, five years ago. Right before Thanos. I was in the quantum realm. The quantum realm is like it’s own little microscopic universe. To get in there you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my uh-“ he trails off. “She was my…she was- she was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry that must have been a long five years.” Natasha apologies.

“That’s the thing, for me it wasn’t.” Scott replies. “It was five hours.”

“What a trip.” You snort, absently toying with your belt loop.

“The rules of time are different there. See everything is unpredictable.” He explains, getting distracted by the food in your hand. “Are you gonna finish that?”

“I guess not.” You hold it out to him.

He accepts, gratefully stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“Scott! What are you talking about?” Steve demands.

“So what I’m saying is time works differently in the quantum realm. The only problem is we don’t have a way to navigate it. But if we did, if we could somehow control the chaos; to enter the quantum realm at a certain point in time and exit at another point in time…like,” Scott locks eyes with you then. “Like before Thanos.”

You nod.

“Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve sighs, running a hand over his tense forehead.

“No. No of course not. Not like a time machine but like a…yeah.” There’s no other word for it. “Like a time machine. I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it! There gotta be some way.”

“Scott,” Natasha calls his attention. “I get emails from a raccoon. So nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“So who do we talk to about this?” His eyes flicker between the three of you.

“Don’t look at me.” You hold both hands up. “That’s way above my pay grade.”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @3and30aresoultwins

[atravisphilepsclicker]

Can I get comfort from sal? So trans male reader keeps his binder on to long to the point of bruises and pain? You can chose headcanons or a one shot it’s up to you •3•

Summary: Sal comes home from his supermarket job to see you were in your shared bedroom in your shared apartment and asks how long you kept your binder on after you answer him he tries to help you with the pain.

----------------------------

Word Count:1654

Pronouns: he/him

Gender: trans male

Warning: mentions of dysphoria, bruising, back pain and small injury

Modern AU

You both are in high school and Sal has a part-time job at the town Walmart.

Y/N = your name

----------------------------

3rd Person POV

Sal stood in front of the apartment door with the card key in his left hand and was texting the group gc ( with him, todd, larry, ashily, maple and chug ). He turned off his phone and slid the key into the card lock and a small light turned red to green showing that it was unlocked.

Walking into the apartment Sal was met with silence. It didn’t worry him but he wondered where you were when he came home from work you usually were sitting on the couch doing something to pass the time as you waited for him but you weren’t there to give him his usual greeting of “ Hey, Sal, “ or “ Hey, blue! “

Sal then locked the door, took off his shoes, and put them on the boot rack on the door’s left side. Sal stood upright and walked into the living room and that’s when he heard it, “ Oh you’re home, Welcome back! “ Sal heard you greet him from the bedroom. The bedroom door was half open leaving him being able to see you laying on the bed in the room. Sal walked over to the door and opened it and leaned on the door frame.

He looked at you, you were so handsome laying there your legs laying straight on the bed as you scrolled on your phone. You had a tired look on your face and you bet your ass your amazing boyfriend Sal noticed and frowned, furrowing his brow. “ So how was your day today? You look tired. “ Sal asked with a slightly worried tone. You look at him with a small smile and turn off your phone, putting it on the nightstand beside your side of the bed.

“ It was fine I haven’t had a lot of sleep since I was trying to finish the dam book assignment T/N gave us. I did ask todd to help me after I finished pulling out my hair a little. So it’s done now and I won’t have to return to hell for a few days till our next assignment. But other than that I’ve had a fine day. “ You told the blue-haired male that was now on sitting on the bed beside you legs crossed with one hand holding his face listening to you.

You looked at him and asked, “ So how was your day at work? I guess the boss gave you overtime at the store again? “ You asked since he came home 2 hours later than his work schedule had said. “ Yeah, sorry! I tried to get off earlier but she just gave me so many things to do! “ He said annoyed. You leaned on one side wincing at the bit of pain moving gave you and Sal noticed. Sal was not a genius but when he saw you do that it didn’t take long for him to remember the last time a few months ago you didn’t take off your binder for longer than it intended. “ Hey, love how long have you had your binder on? “ He asked with tones of worry in his voice. You saw his eyes through the mask, they looked worried for you, the love of his life.

You sigh and close your eyes not wanting to see his reaction, “ 12 hours. “ You say quietly, almost in a mumble. “ Take it off. “ Sal told you with a stern pained voice. You were hesitant not wanting to have terrible dysphoria again, I mean that the entire reason you have had that on for so long and you both knew it. It took a little time to think but you finally surrendered. “ Fine…” You said with an upset sigh. You sat up quickly sending a jolt of pain down your spine making you lay back down and groan in pain. Sal quickly moved over to you and held your arm with one hand. “ Do you need me to help get up? It must be really painful to move. “ Sal asked rubbing circles on your arm. You make a pained smile, “ That would be really nice of you blue, thank you. “

Sal moved, straightening his back. “ Okay, first let’s sit you up just tell me when you’re ready to move and ill put my hand behind your back and push you up slowly. “ Sal told you. You waited for a minute for the pain to die down a little and told him you were ready. Sal slid his hand under the lower side of your back knowing your upper back must be in so much pain right at the moment.“ K, one...two...three! “ Sal started to move you up slowly and steadily.

Once you sat up Sal helped you lean your back on the backboard of your bed. After that Sal got off the bed and stood beside you. “ You alright? “ He asked squatting down to lead his head in your lap. “ Yeah, I’m fine just in a little bit of pain but no worries! “ You answer as you twirl a few of Sal’s soft blue locks in your fingers. “ Well...if you’re sure you’ll be fine then do you think we could try to stand you up and get that binder off of you? “ He asked in a caring tone. “ Yeah, we could try but I think I might fall over if I do. “ You cucked. SaL then stood up and held both of your arms. “ You know you don’t need to hold me like this right? “ You say as you steadily move up wincing at the pain your binder gave you to move. “ I know I just want to make sure you’re safe and won’t get hurt more than you already are. “ He started concentrating on getting you to stand up. Once you finally stood up he started getting your shirt off as you looked away embarrassed and disgusted. “ Why are you okay seeing my disgusting body? “ You aked as Sal threw your shirt on the bad behind you both. He looked bad at you and put his hand on your face and started rubbing small shapes with his thumb, “ Because I love you, and your handsome body, love. You are anything but disgusting! You're my handsome attractive boyfriend and that's what you'll always be to me, even if you hate how you look ill help you show that you're beautiful! And hey, we can always start saving up for surgery to get them removed if you really want. I’ll do anything to make you happy and I want you to know that but for now, we just need to get that binder off of you. “ He told you. You started to tear up as he started taking it off of you and finally broke down as he also put that down with the discarded shirt. “ Thank you. I love you! “ You cried on her shoulder.

“ Shhhh it’s okay….how about I give you a nice massage to relieve some of the pain? “ Sal asked calming you down slightly. You sniffed a bit and then looked at him with tear stains down your face. “ Yeah, that would be nice….” You said as you lay down in the middle of the bed. Sal sat down beside you and rolled up his sleeves. He first put his hands on your shoulders, thankfully they were warm and he started messaging the notes out. It felt good and you gave a big sigh. He then moved to where your bruises and cuts are from the binder. His hands became softer on your skin and he was careful to relieve some of the pain not give you some more. You felt a wave of relief when the pain died down you didn't even notice when Sal stopped till he said something to you. “ I'm going to get some ointment to put on the bruises! “ He told you walking out of your bedroom.

You stare at the wall in front of you as you listen to his movement, him opening the bathroom door then him opening the cupboard and moving some things around till he found the ointment. You looked over at the door as Sal walked in medicine in hand. He sat back down beside you were still laying on your stomach. “ This is going to be cold on your skin. “ He said opening the medicine and putting some on his finger. He put some on a large bruise and yeah, he was right, it's fucking cold. You wince at the cold feeling on your skin but you soon get used to the feeling as Sal rubbed it in more.

Soon enough he was done and you were tired mentally and physically. You look at your wonderful boyfriend beside you scrolling on his phone. “ You think we can cuddle? “ You ask looking at him with i tired and pained face. “ He turned off his phone and looked at you with beautiful and caring eyes. “ Sure, love! Let me just take off my mask. “ He told you unclipping the clips under his hair. You didn't even really notice he still had it on but was happy he's still comfortable taking it off around you. After setting his mask down on the nightstand he layed his back on the backboard and moved his arms out waiting for you to come in his arms. You crawled over to Sal and went into his comforting arms. You both stayed there in the quiet only sounds of small movement and breathing in air. Soon enough your eyes started getting droopy and you started letting out cute yawns. You hear Sal chuckle and you say a quick shut up before your eyes closed for good and you fell fast asleep going into an amazing and magical dream.

Now you both were together and that wouldn't change ever even if either of you struggles with things or life throws things at you you'll always be there for each other, from now and forever.

----------------------------

Pictures

Sal Fisher- https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/496873771387590071/

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Sorry if this was terrible! I honestly loved writing this but was having some trouble getting my ideas down on the computer so it might seem quite bad, but hopefully, this helps even a little and have a great day/afternoon/night and remember to stay hydrated!

[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

[doubleleoenergy]

Daddy Issues

Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got daddy issues

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving), Daddy Kink, passionate sex

Word Count: 2361

Author’s Notes: My GRAYstans unite! I have unlocked a new passion for Daddy!Grayson. Also, my headers either feature the reader image as Malia Tate from Teen Wolf or Jane Villanueva from Jane the Virgin.

“Are you SURE you want to make Sledge’s doghouse from scratch?” You asked, following your boyfriend, THE Grayson Dolan, into the backyard. Grayson and you had just adopted a puppy that he was FINALLY not allergic to, and he had become quite obsessed with wanting the absolute best for your new pup

“Babe, do you REALLY want our son to have some basic and boring dog house for the backyard, or wouldn’t it be more fitting for him to have a MANSION like the king he is?” Grayson suggests, wagging his thick eyebrows at you.

You gently shove his side, rolling your eyes at his response. “Fine, Sledge and I will just MONITOR your progress by the pool.” You call back to the pup, watching him gallop towards you both, wagging his tail. Grayson moves towards the garage to bring all of the wood and materials needed for the project onto the grassy area next to the pool, arranging the pieces by length.

Sledge lays down in the grass next to your lounge chair as you sit down, tightening your lavender string bikini bottoms on your hips. Today was GORGEOUS, the sun shining and the heat not sweltering, allowing for the perfect day to tan while you watched Grayson work.

You decided to start by tanning your back, lying with your face propped on a towel in the foldout chair. Your hands hold your phone out, scrolling through Instagram as you soaked in the summer rays.

Grayson started his plans by sawing the boards to the perfect length, pulling a pair of safety goggles over the top of his tousled long locks. You eye him carefully from where you lay, watching as he handled the saw with ease, cutting the board to its perfect size before continuing on to the next piece. Your eyes linger on the curve of his back muscles squeezing through the black tank top that clung to his figure.

Sledge barked, pulling you from your daze, demanding attention beside you. You place the phone by your side, smiling down as you sit up slightly to provide your furbaby with the attention he craved. “Are you watching Daddy work? Well, so is MOMMY.” You coo, running your fingers through his soft fur.

A half hour goes by, Grayson diligently putting together the pieces of wood, sweat dripping from his hair down through his beard. You decide it’s a good time for a hydration break, Sledge following you back inside the kitchen where you grab two bottles of water along with a dish to pour some out for your pooch.

“Gray, how about you take a quick break?” You chirped, approaching him as he leaned over and inspected his work. You hand him one of the water bottles, opening the other and pouring half into the dog dish you set beside your feet, Sledge lapping happily at the bowl.

“How’s it looking so far, boss?” Grayson teased, standing back to let you inspect his work. You tilt your head from side to side, putting your fingers out as a ‘frame’, closing one eye and then the other. Grayson let out a laugh as he watched you pretend to inspect like a ‘real’ boss, a huge grin spreading on his face.

“I’d say it looks sturdy so far, keep up the good work, EMPLOYEE.” You place a kiss to his cheek, sauntering back over to your lounge chair, sitting down to let the rays tan the front of your body.

After a few minutes of lapping at the water bowl Sledge moves back over to you, rolling happily in the grass. Grayson feels sweat drenching his black tank top, a mixture of the heat of the sun and the work he was putting into his project. He grabs the hemline and tugs it off, tossing the sweaty material in the grass next to him.

You can’t help but stop and OGLE at him when he removes it, a sinful image playing out in your mind. Your eyes roam over his sculpted chest, remembering how it felt when you ran your hands up and down his abdomen. Your eyes move up to look at his hair, long locks sticking to his forehead as he continues his work on the dog house. Lastly, your eyes fixated on his hands, watching the veins protruding as he hammered nails into the wood, forming the outside walls of what would be Sledge’s humble abode. Grayson looked DELICIOUS, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flip-flopped at the sight, his cerulean swim trunks clinging to his hips.

“Hey G-Gray, I’m gonna go inside, watch Sledge for me, please?” He nodded, eyes fixated on the task at hand. You took one last glance in his direction, taking a mental picture before pulling open the screen door and heading directly towards your shared bedroom. 

You needed relief after watching him work, he wasn’t even TRYING to seduce you and yet you still felt dampness between your thighs. You opened the bedroom door and shut it behind you. Your body stumbled forward, flopping back against the bed, shimmying out of your bikini bottoms, tossing them to the floor.

Your eyes fluttered closed, REWINDING the image of Grayson working outside in your head, the back of your lids acting as a screen for the projected image. Your delicate fingers slid down your chest to your core, circling around your bundle of nerves and letting out a soft moan. You pictured the way he tossed his shirt off, how the sweat GLISTENED on his skin, that perfect beard you refused to let him shave.

Fingers move lower, parting your folds and moving in and out of your core, arching your back against the bed. You continued pumping your fingers in and out, feeling that familiar buildup in your chest when you heard the bedroom door open, Grayson taking in the sight of you.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He asked, arms crossing against his bare chest. Your eyes snap open, sitting up straight and pulling the blanket over you. As if he HADN’T seen what you were doing just moments ago.

“N-Nothing, I think I am just exhausted from the sun. I figured I needed to lay down and rest a bit.” You stuttered, a hand moving from below the blanket to scratch nervously through your locks.

Grayson’s eyes grew dark as he approached you on the bed, standing just at the edge of it and holding your gaze. “Babygirl, don’t LIE to me, you know I don’t like it when you lie.” He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you, eyes still locked on yours. “Were you TOUCHING yourself?” He asked.

Your cheeks start to feel hot, a rosy blush spreading across them. “Y-Yes, I was. You just looked so good outside and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working so I came in here and-” Grayson holds out his hand, silencing you before you can finish your sentence.

“You’re forgetting the rules, babygirl, REMIND me what they are.” He questioned, his voice lowering an octave. Your bottom lip quivers, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. “N-No touching myself, only DADDY gets to touch me.” You whispered, your gaze darting to the bed to avoid his stare.

“Look at ME.” He demanded, his tone making your eyes snap up immediately. “Yes, only daddy gets to touch you, and what happens when we disobey, babygirl?” You swallow the lump in your throat, eyes going wide. 

“Y-You, you get PUNISHED.”

“Exactly.” He responds, two fingers beckoning you towards the edge of the bed. “Turn around, ass up.” You follow his instructions, crawling to the edge of the bed and turning around. Grayson’s fingers grab your neck, pushing your head down against the mattress. “You’re going to count to ten for me, if you stop counting we’ll start all OVER.”

The first smack across your ass made your pussy tighten, wincing slightly at the burn of his thick hand against your skin. “O-One.” You sputtered. 

“Good girl, keep counting.” He commands, sending another smack to your flesh.

“T-Two...three...four...five.” Tears are welling up in your eyes, a mix of both pleasure and pain through each strike to your tanned skin. You don’t want to falter though, you know it’ll be MUCH worse if you add more slaps to the count.

“S-six...seven...eight...nine...ten.” Tears are now flowing down your face, staining your cheeks in the light coat of mascara you had applied that morning. Grayson moves the pressure off your neck, letting out a deep breath.

“What a good GIRL, see, I knew you could be good for me.” He flexes his hand in a fist and then stretches it out over and over, relaxing the muscles as the sting starts to dissipate. “I think it’s time that I get a THANK YOU.” You know EXACTLY what he’s asking, turning around to face him, eyes level with the thick bulge in his shorts.

“Yes daddy.” Your fingers tug down the shorts, his thick cock springing free against his chest. You lick your lips before reaching up, taking his cock into your hand and SLOWLY stroking it. Your mouth parts, lips curling around the tip, sucking and licking before moving them lower and lower down the base.

His fingers move to grip your hair, a groan of delight leaving his lips. “That’s it baby, open your mouth, let me fuck that perfect mouth of yours.” You do as you’re told, relaxing your jaw and letting him slide further. Not only was he thick, but LONG, tears welling up as he pushed all the way in, your nose touching the skin right below his belly button. He uses your hair as his reins, bucking his hips in and out, a mixture of your spit DRIPPING from the sides of your lips down your chin and neck. Grayson keeps his eyes on you, watching you sputter around him, his teeth grinding together. 

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He pulls out abruptly, a string of saliva linking your mouth to his cock, and you feel utterly EMPTY. Grayson tilts your head up with his hand, ushering you to get up. “That’s enough, don’t want to cum in your mouth today, want to cum inside you.”

His hands push you back against the bed, untying the bikini top you still wore, revealing your bare breasts to him. His hand moves to grip his cock, rubbing the red and swollen tip against your folds, a dark smile on his face. “You are already SO wet, babygirl. Do you want me to fuck you?” You nod up at him but you know that’s not what he wants, he wants you to use your WORDS.

“Yes, Gray...I mean, daddy. Please fuck me, want to feel you cum inside me.” The words are satisfaction, the code that unlocks his motions as he pushes inside of you, working in slowly as your walls INSTINCTIVELY tighten around him, pulling him deeper. After a moment he bottoms out, holding himself there, looking down at you.

“So fucking tight, babygirl. Your cunt was MADE for me.” He moves his hips, pulling out almost completely before slamming himself back in, eliciting a whine from your throat. He continues at the same pace, pulling almost completely out and pushing back in fast, your voice becoming louder which each thrust.

“Gotta keep it down, you know Ethan is still sleeping. Wouldn’t want to wake him up. Or maybe you do, huh?” He asked, two of his fingers snaking between your breasts down to your clit, circling it. “Want Ethan to know that you’re a SLUT for my cock? How your daddy is the only one that can please you?”

You moan loudly, your voice hoarse from the way he fucked your throat earlier. “Yes daddy, I want EVERYONE to know I’m yours.” His hips slap into you over and over, fingers circling your clit with more pressure now. He can tell you’re close to coming, your walls clenching and unclenching him, your thighs shaking as his own hold you apart.

“Uh-uh, gotta ASK if you can cum babygirl, you know better.” Grayson’s free hand moves to your neck, wrapping around it JUST enough that your breathing gets harder, but not enough that you might pass out.

“Fuck, PLEASE daddy, want to cum on your cock, want to show you how good I can be.” You choked out, picturing the way his hands had moved around the wood and saw earlier that were now around your throat.

Grayson is pleased by your words, eyes focusing on your face and his fingers rubbing against you faster. “Yes, babygirl, CUM on my cock.” He can barely finish his sentence before your orgasm hits you, crying out loudly, tears flowing from your eyes with pleasure. He continues his movements, feeling your walls tightening around him and knowing he can’t hold on anymore. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna coat your walls with me, want you LEAKING my cum.” A groan of satisfaction leaves his lips, his cock pressed deep inside you as he spurts thick ropes of cum into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, closing them as you continue coming down from your high, his hand moving off of your neck so you can fully breathe. His hips stutter briefly, letting you milk his cock before he pulls out, noticing your dazed state.

“Hey...come back to me baby.” He whispered, moving to lay down next to you, placing gentle kisses all over your face. Your eyes FINALLY flutter open, a lazy smile on your lips. “Sorry about that, you really did just look so good I couldn’t help myself.” Grayson let out a deep chuckle, tugging you into his side, his fingers roaming up and down your back.

“Don’t apologize baby, next time just tell me and I’ll stop to USE you how you need to be used.” He glances at the door, hearing a whine from Sledge, pulling him back to reality. “Our SON wants you.”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nope, YOU can deal with him now, you fucked all of the energy out of me.”

Tagging my GRAYstans: @midnightf​ | @certainaesthetic​

[triggerhappyimagines]

Nagito in marshmallow hell pls

combining these requests because,,, yeah! this is certainly not my best work (at least in my opinion) but i hope you enjoy it regardless!!

Nagito’s part is pretty sfw, and Kokichi’s is not, but i’m putting both under the cut for general suggestive content!

warnings: slightly nsfw/suggestive content

word count: 1138

**not proofread**

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Nagito Komaeda

"Nagito... i need to move my arms." you said tentatively to your boyfriend, who was currently wrapped around you like a python.

"mmh... but you’re so warm..." he mumbled, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"you can still lay on me, i just need my arms back." you giggled. he didn’t move, but loosened the vice-grip of a hug he had on you, giving you enough mobility to wiggle your arms out from beneath his lanky form. they were tingly; he’d been on top of you so long they’d started to fall asleep.

you reached for your cell phone on the bedside table, sighing when you saw a storm of notifications waiting for you. texts from your boss, a missed call from your mom, about a dozen emails... you were too tired to deal with all that.

Nagito lifted his head up ever so slightly as you tossed your phone into the bed. he looked at you curiously. it was only mid morning, what could be stressing you out already?

"i’m okay." you said sweetly, running your fingers through his hair with a smile before he could even voice his concern. he relaxed a little at the feeling of your hands on his head. you always managed to take all his worries away, make him forget about how worthless he was. you made him feel so incredibly loved.

Nagito shifted once more, this time burying his face into your chest, as if to seek something soft to rest upon. he was still half-asleep, not thinking very hard about what he was doing, and you knew that. yet, you couldn’t help but blush as the loose camisole you’d slept in slipped down more and more as he sought a comfortable spot for his head. you wondered if he was aware of the compromising position the two of you would be in if somebody happened to walk in the room.

"N-Nagito..." you stammered, your mind starting to melt as all you could think about was the feeling of his soft skin against your own.

"i’m sorry," he lifted his head up a bit, eyes meeting yours. "i didn’t mean to-"

"no, you’re okay!" you replied a bit too suddenly. "i-i mean... you don’t have to move, i-if you don’t want to. i don’t mind if you lay on me." your face felt like it was on fire and Nagito smiled up at you like a lovesick puppy.

he proceeded to nuzzle himself into your chest again, and you mindlessly played with his hair. he let out a small, content sigh and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was comfortable to be sandwiched between your breasts. regardless, Nagito seemed to enjoy it, and that was good enough for you.

"i wish we could stay in bed forever." you lamented.

"do you have to get up?" Nagito questioned, his voice a bit muffled. you couldn’t help but chuckle at his refusal to move.

"not yet. we can lay here for a while."

"good." Nagito shifted ever-so-slightly, just so he could plant a gentle kiss on your skin, the sensation of his lips against you sending warmth through your whole body . "i love you, (y/n). you know that, right?"

"oh, Nagito, how could i ever forget?" you cooed. you could feel him smile as he snuggled into you. "and, for the record, i love you too."

Kokichi Ouma

Kokichi tugged at your shirt and slipped one hand beneath your skirt as he placed chaste kisses on your lips, all but begging you to take your clothes off, though he refused to part his lips from yours long enough to even allow you to do so. he’d been needy since that morning (though you really weren’t sure why), and now that he’d finally gotten you alone he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. you sighed as he trailed his lips down your neck, nipping at the tender skin.

"Kichi, what’s gotten into you?" you laughed as he nibbled your collarbone.

"you’ve been ignoring me all day!" he whined, still leaving love bites across your skin. "this is payback, (y/n)~"

"i wasn’t ignoring you, i just had — oh!" you gasped as he yanked your shirt up. you shifted your arms so he could remove the pesky fabric from your body, but when he proceeded to pin you down, you had trouble remembering what you were saying. "i had things to do! i can’t just drop everything and have sex with you whenever you want!"

"well, you should!" he pouted, sitting up straight, though still straddling you. "now c’mon, say you’re sorry~"

you playfully rolled your eyes. "i’m sorry."

"for what?"

"for ignoring you."

"for ignoring who?"

"for ignoring my amazing, wonderful, boyfriend."

in one swift movement, Kokichi pinned your hands above your head, his face only inches from yours. "that’s better." he leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, using his free hand to wrangle your bra off of you as he explored your mouth. you could still taste the grape panta he’d drank earlier that day on his tongue.

you used his intense focus on you to your advantage, breaking your arms free from his grasp and rolling over on top of him. he let out an involuntary gasp as you leaned over him, hands resting on either side of his head. he bit his lip and giggled at you.

"feisty tonight, are you?" he teased, wrapping his legs around your waist in order to pull you closer to him. he proceeded to grind his hips up towards you; the sensual contact sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine. you knew he was only trying to distract you enough to take over, and you knew better than to fall for his tricks, but the way his clothed body felt against the skin of your thigh was inexplicable in the best kind of way.

it was his turn to attempt to flip you over and put himself back in control through an expertly timed roll, but you weren’t about to let him win your submission quite so easily. when he pushed against your torso and began to shift his weight to the left, you resisted, pushing yourself back on top of him. though this time, he found himself staring not at your face above his, but... your breasts. he smirked, and when you glanced down at him it was all too obvious he had a plan for you.

"Kichi, what are you — ah!" you gasped as he sat up halfway, just enough to nestle his face right in the center of your chest. startled, you instinctively pulled back a little, but he only pushed himself against you harder. you couldn’t help but laugh. “what are you doing?”

“getting comfortable, duh. now stop squirming~” he answered, his voice muffled. you let out a pleasured yelp as he began to kiss and nip at the tender skin on your chest. you were in for a long night.

[yuki-the-master-of-demons]

Sensitive Spots Part 1 (NSFWish) Mammon x Male MC

I like to think that, when in demon form, the bases of demon wings and tails (where it connects to their back) are sensitive and can be arousing for demons when touched. I wanted to explore this idea a bit and decided to write this with my MC, Yuki (he/him). This can easily be read as a reader insert too if y’all want

"Am I doing this right?" Yuki asks as he leans over the pool table.

"Nah, you got ya whole hold wrong." Mammon set his pool cue up as if he's about to hit a shot. "See my left hand?"

"Okay so..." Yuki tries to replicate it.

"Yeah, that's it!" Mammon grabs one of the balls and sets it in front of Yuki. "Now try an hit it."

Yuki hits the ball. It curves left.

"Well, at least ya hit it hard enough." Mammon sets another ball up. "Try and aim for the center."

Yuki tries again and, this time, the ball mostly goes straight. "I think I can get this."

"Nice! Then how about a game?" Mammon asks with a smirk. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

"Oh okay, how do I play? All I know is you don't want the white ball to go in."

"Why don't we play classic eight-ball?" Mammon begins setting the balls up in the rack. "I'll pocket the solids and you pocket the stripes. Ya hit the eight-ball in after ya pocketed 'em."

"Oh yeah, we can do a game," Yuki smirks. "But you want more than that, don't you?"

Mammon laughs. "Of course! What's the point of playing if there isn't a reward for the winner?"

"Alright, Mammon." Yuki crosses his arms. "What do you want to bet? And we aren't playing for money. You're guaranteed to win once money is on the table."

"Then what are we gonna play for?" Mammon asks.

Yuki shrugs. "I don't know. You're the one who wants to make it a bet."

Mammon takes a moment to think. "Well, how about ya owe me a favor if you lose?"

"As long as it's not an impossible favor, then sure. Now what can I get from you?" Yuki stares at Mammon as he thinks.

A soft pink appears in Mammon's cheeks. "Ya want me to do something for ya? I-I can think of uh- some things."

"Hm..." Yuki hums. "I don't really get to see your demon form too often."

"Ya wanna see my demon form?"

"Can I touch your horns if I win? Or not, I won't force you." Yuki tries to make that clear. "If you don't want to be touched, that's fine."

"Ya can touch me if ya want. Wait- I mean, I don't-" Mammon fumbles over his words. "Yeah, if you win, ya can touch my horns."

Yuki smiles. "Alright, we got a bet then."

The game starts, and Yuki is shit at it. The ball misses the pocket half the time Yuki hits it, and he accidentally pockets the cue ball every other turn. Mammon easily pockets every ball he goes for and even lets Yuki get some extra turns to try and catch up. But, by the end of the game, Mammon is the one who pockets the eight-ball.

"And the Great Mammon wins!" Mammon throws his arms up and cheers. Yuki chuckles at the sight. "You won against a rookie who didn't know how to hold a cue until today. So are you gonna keep that favor in that back pocket, or are you gonna cash in that favor now?"

A small flush returns to Mammon's face. "Well, since I'm all gracious, I can cash in that favor and give ya what ya want too."

"Oh? How?"

"How about ya clean my horns for me?"

And that's how Yuki ends up sitting on Mammon's couch as the demon sits, facing him, on the floor. Yuki studies Mammon's horns, his fingers running across the dark hard keratin-like material. The demons horns swirl upward and are a deep shade of black. They remind Yuki of ribbons.

"So you want me to clean it with a brush and then a towel?" Yuki asks. "Yeah, and don't worry about having to be gentle with them either."

"Well, okay then." Yuki looks over the small brush. "I'm guessing I should start at the top?"

"Yeah, ya can do that."

"Can you get closer?"

Mammon, cheeks flushed, hesitates but does what Yuki asks.

"Alright, and can you- Hm... Can I move your head as needed?"

"I uh- Yeah." Mammon mutters. "Go ahead."

Even when Mammon said he didn't need to be, Yuki is gentle. He guides Mammon's head to rest against his thigh and then begins brushing the demon's horns. The small brush in Yuki's hand seems to be made for this, and it probably is when he thinks about it. It easily fits through the curls of Mammon's horns, reaching in every crevasse. Yuki makes sure to clean every inch, not because Mammon would complain if he didn't, but because he's finding this to be quite relaxing. As Yuki nears the base of Mammon's horn, he can see the demon's wings twitch. Yuki chuckles at the sight.

"What's so funny?" Mammon asks.

"You know you're adorable, right?"

Mammon grumbles and face gets even hotter. "I ain't cute! I'm a demon; we ain't supposed to be cute."

Yuki smiles and takes a towel to finish off cleaning the horn. "You may be a big scary demon to everyone else, but you'll always be cute ol' Mammon to me."

"Ya got a weird definition of cute." Mammon pouts.

"Always have, always will. Can you lean on my other leg?" Yuki asks. "I'm finished with this one."

Again, Mammon does what he's asked, and Yuki begins the process over. It's calming. The human begins to wonder something.

"Do your wings need cleaning too?"

Mammon's wings twitch again. "W-what?"

"Maybe I could give you a massage?" Yuki suggests.

"W-well, if ya offering, a massage sounds nice."

"Alright then, I'm almost-" Yuki finishes off cleaning the last spot with a towel. 

"And done. Now let's get you on the bed."

"Y-yeah." Mammon's wings flutter as he stands and makes his way to his bed.

"Do you need help taking off all that?" Yuki follows Mammon at tugs on his leather straps. "Your whole BDSM thing looks like a puzzle."

"I uh- Yeah!" Mammon's face keeps getting redder and redder. "Ya can help me take this off."

Yuki begins undoing the buckles of the demon's top, and Mammon does nothing to help. Mammon just gazes at Yuki's concentrated face, tongue partially sticking out as he figures out what strap he has to undo next. The humans hands keeps brushing against Mammon's skin, and it's driving the demon wild.

"Ah, I think I got it." Yuki undoes the last strap and the top begins to slip off the demon's shoulders.

Mammon chuckles nervously as he pulls his wings in so the top can fall to the floor. "Y-you're pretty good at that. Maybe you could uh- We could-" Mammon yelps as he feels a cold hand on his back.

"Oh sorry, I should've warned you."

"No, you're- It's fine." Mammon tries to act calm.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Yuki removes his hand and steps in front of Mammon. "If you're uncomfortable, please tell me."

"I'm not!" Mammom tries to reassure the human. "I want you too. I mean, I wouldn't be nervous; you're just a human."

"You're nervous?" There's worry in Yuki's voice. "I don't have to give you a massage, Mammon."

"No, no, no! I want a massage. Trust me."

"Well..." The worry if Yuki's face remains. "If you want to stop at any moment, tell me, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." Mammon flops onto his bed.

"Could you scoot in more?"

"How would you- Eh, whatever." Mammon does as Yuki asks. He feels added weight onto the mattress and, suddenly, Yuki is sitting on his tailbone. Mammon tenses up at first, but, when Yuki's hands touch him and travel up his spine, he relaxes. It's obvious Yuki isn't sure what he's doing and is trying to do what he's seen other people do before. That's until Yuki gets close to Mammon's wings. His touch is gentle as he studies them, tracing along the muscle connecting the wing to his back and then feeling up the leathery wing. Mammon tenses up, and he bites his lip.

Yuki feels Mammon's wings twitch in his hands. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! I mean-" Mammon clears his throat. "Keep going. You don't have to be gentle with my wings."

Even with Mammon's words, Yuki's touch is still soft. The human's hands feel along the thin skin of his wings and then back to the base of the demon's wings. Mammon's body is growing hot and he has to keep himself from moaning. As Yuki massages the flesh connecting his wings to his back, Mammon can feel himself slowly getting hard, his cock stirring in his pants.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yuki asks. "You don't seem relaxed at all."

"I'm relaxed!" Mammon hides his face in his arms. "I just- The base of wings are a bit sensitive, okay."

"Oh, I'll focus somewhere else then."

"Wait, no. It's-" Mammon tries to find the words to say. "It's a good kind of sensitive."

Yuki is silent for a moment and then asks another question. "So like a cat's tail? Are there a lot of nerves or something?"

"I don't fucking know. It just- It feels good!"

"Okay okay, I'll give your wings special attention." Yuki laughs and continues kneading the base of Mammon's wings. Mammon pulls a pillow close to him and buries his face in it. The human's thumbs rub circles into his muscles and palms press against his skin. Mammon struggles to keep himself silent, quiet moans being muffled by the fabric of the pillow. Mammon can feel his cock pushed up against the mattress. It's taking all of his self control to keep himself from rutting against it. Yuki's touching him, making him feel like this. He's so fucking hard. He wants Yuki to touch him more, to flip him over and grind on his cock, to make him cum.

"Mammon, are you in here and do you know where Yuki is? It's time for dinner." The door to Mammon's room opens suddenly and Asmo peers in. "Oh~ And what are you two up to, hm?"

"Oh hey, Asmo." Yuki turns to the younger demon with a smile. "I'm just giving Mammon a massage."

"And focusing on his wings I see~" Asmo giggles. "Is Mammon finally being more forward with you?"

Mammon wants to scream into the pillow.

Yuki's eyebrows furrow. "'Being more forward?' What are you talking about?"

"So he isn't? But you're groping his wings." Asmo thinks for a moment. "Oh~ Mammon how naughty of you."

Mammon throws his pillow at his brother. "Fuck off!”

Asmo ducks our of the way and laughs. "Come on, Yuki. We should leave Mammon to take care of himself."

"Um, okay? Sorry we had to cut this short, Mammon. I had fun though." Yuki pulls himself off the bed and is dragged out of the room by Asmo.

Mammon plops his face onto his mattress and screams into it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"You're later than usual, Mammon." Lucifer glares at his brother as Mammon sits at the dinner table.

"I had some stuff to take care of, alright?" Mammon pouts and sits at the table. 

"You don't have to get on my ass about it."

"Yeah, it's not like he's gonna be late for classes, Lucifer. Don't be a dick." Yuki slides a plate of food over to Mammon. "I was able to save you a plate before Beel ate everything."

Mammon's cheeks turn slightly pink. "It's not like I needed you to, but... Thanks."

Yuki smiles at him and then continues eating.

"Maybe you should at least tell everyone why you're so late, hm?" Asmo gives a knowing smile to Mammon. "Tell everyone what I walked in on you two doing."

That statement catches the attention of every demon at the table.

"What were you doing with Yuki, Mammon?" Satan asks with an angry tone.

"Why is Asmo making that face?!" Levi's face flushes.

Belphie frowns. "You better not have made him do something creepy."

Beel gives Yuki a worried look.

"Mammon." Lucifer glares at him.

"H-hey!" Mammon yelps. "Don't look at me like that! I didn't do anything wrong!"

Yuki sighs. "Y'all calm down. I lost a bet and cleaned his horns. Saw an opportunity to touch his wings, so I offered to give him a massage."

Asmo raises an eyebrow. "You 'saw an opportunity?' Oh, Yuki~"

"What? I like y'all's demon forms, but I rarely get a chance to touch anything!" Yuki pouts. "I wanna touch! Is that a bad thing?”

All the demons give Yuki a look.

After a moment of silence, the human asks. “What? Did I say something weird?”

[pennylanewrites]

※strawberries, cherries and an angel’s kiss in spring※

Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

Minors DNI! pls go eat some frozen yoghurt:(

description: Jean makes a perfect picnic basket for his fiancée, but the picnic date plans get forgotten when the hot weather makes you dizzy and needy for him.

word count: 2.2k

genre: soft smut, fluffy domestic sex

contains: established relationship, outside sex, unprotected sex, breeding, handjob if you squint, talks of pregnancy, not proofread oops

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Jean looked so pretty, placing hand-picked cherries on a platter, his baby blue polo shirt tight on his biceps. He hummed a tune as he took a picnic basket out of the kitchen door, heading into your backyard. You watched him come to you with a smile, and he admired the sight in front of him. You, laid down on a blue blanket in a short peach-coloured sundress, bare legs tickled by grass blades.

"You look lovely." He complimented you as he sat down next to you and left a kiss on your shoulder.

"You too, love." You returned the gesture and left a kiss on his own shoulder before he took everything out of the picnic basket, setting it in front of you.

"So, how was your day at work?" He asked as he slowly filled two champagne glasses with a sparkling pink drink from the champagne bottle hidden in the cooler.

"Tiring. Our air conditioner was broken today." You pouted, gladly accepting the glass. "What did you do?"

"I was planning this date for us," he took your hand in his, admiring the shiny ring sitting proudly on your ring finger, "and I was thinking of doing something different."

"Good thinking. This is much better than going out on a restaurant." You praised his choice on a picnic in your home's backyard.

"Here's to us." He raised his glass, clinking it with yours carefully before you both took a sip, feeling refreshed by the prickly strawberry taste.

   Everything felt so peaceful; birds chirping, flying over you, a squirrel playing in the bird fountain you had placed under the shade of a tree. The pool was clean and the water looked so inviting, but maybe a different day. For now, you were eyeing the cherries on the blanket. Jean didn't fail to notice, bringing one up to your lips. You parted your lips, taking one in your mouth before feeding another to the brunette.

"Are you happy, Jean?"

"In general?" He gave you a small smile, surprised by the sudden question. You nodded, waiting for his reply. "Very happy. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I have you. That's all I needed since the day I met you." Sweet words melted into your skin as he peppered kisses up your neck and jaw until his lips met yours.

"Do you ever think that you need more?"

"Like...one more fiancée?"

"Jean!" You hit his torso with a giggle before he wrapped his arms around you, laying you down next to him. Hand in your hair, the other stroking your upper arm, he looked into your eyes and saw his world.

"I love you, ___."

"I love you too." You smiled before kissing Jean, eyes feeling heavy due to the high temperature of that afternoon in May.

Your hands trailed from his cheeks to his torso, unbuttoning the top button of the polo that clung to his body. He chuckled at your eagerness, giving you the chance to slip your tongue in his mouth, feeling the tart taste of the cherries you fed him.

"I love you so much, Jean." You broke the kiss and he easily pulled you on his lap by your hips. Looking down at him, you swept a strand of hair behind his ear, feeling his hands trail to the curve of your ass.

"Babe, it's too hot for you to be on top of me."

"Take your shirt off then." You whispered in his ear, giggling. The mixing of champagne with the almost insufferable heat made you dizzy and...needy. You always needed Jean by your side, but now especially, you simply couldn't wait.

"You don't have to say that twice." He chuckled and you leaned up for him to do the same and take his shirt off. He left it by the forgotten picnic basket, watching you admire his abs, his chiseled torso, and a scar on his side from a fun childhood. Despite knowing and dating Jean for no less than 6 years and no more than 7, you couldn't get enough of his body, his pretty face, everything about him made you feel like a teenager again.

   He wrapped his strong arms around your waist, bringing you back to reality. Another kiss on your lips and you had him laying down again, slowly grinding against his crotch.

"Out here?" He looked at you surprised, then looked around. The tall fence and the hedges around it were enough to keep you concealed and there wasn't any house right next to yours either.

"Either this or carry me inside." You shrugged, continuing to leave soft pecks on his neck and collarbones.

"Silly. I'm saving that for our wedding night." His words once again had you melting in his arms.

"Jean, I need you."

"You got me sweetheart." He kissed you again before his hands bunched your dress up on your hips, leaving you exposed to the warm breeze and to his hands.

   Fingers barely grazing your sweet spot, lips sucking on your neck, your hands messing with his hair, lips letting out a whine at the teasing before his fingers pulled on the elastic band of your underwear, urging you to remove them. You did so easily, getting back on Jean's lap in seconds.

   His lips found your collarbones, where a dainty golden chain with his initial fell. Your hands met with the belt around his jeans, unbuckling it and unzipping his pants awfully slow. You pushed his jeans and boxers down just a bit as he raised his hips to help you. Your chest met his again as he kissed you passionately, and your hand slowly trailed down his abs, over the trimmed brown hairs, making him gasp into your mouth when you wrapped your hand around his cock. Already half-hard, it didn't take him long to get to his full girth, especially when your fingers moved so perfectly around him, his member coated with precum in minutes.

   Another groan escaped his lips when you bucked your hips against his own, crotches meeting with anticipation.

"You're killing me, ___." He muttered as he bit down your neck and shoulder, tongue swirling against where he bit to soothe the sting. You kept grinding against his hard cock until he finally had enough.

   You found yourself under Jean with one swift move, and the lustful, loving look in his honey-coloured eyes had you melting again. Dress bunched up over your hips, the straps falling down your shoulders, his initial sitting pretty on your marked collarbones, Jean found you ethereal. And he wanted to show you in every way possible.

"I love you. So, so much." He whispered in your ear sweetly before kissing the spot behind it, where he knew it tickled. You giggled and squirmed against his warm touch, sending butterflies in his stomach and making him feel like a schoolboy again. His index and middle finger trailed down your puffy clit, to your slit, where his fingers entered easily to prep you for his cock.

   It was getting hard for both of you to kiss each other, it was more teeth hitting against each other and tongues playing inside your mouth, because his fingers curled up inside you, knuckles touching the perfect spots to make you moan out his name.

"Jean, please. I need more." You pleaded, back arching to make your torso collide with his.

"Whatever you want, baby. I'll give it to you." He kissed your forehead, hand caressing your hair as the other held on your hip for leverage.

   Your hole welcomed Jean's cock, though it was always difficult at first. He barely stretched you out as he slowly fit more and more of him inside you, but the way your walls clenched around him made it hard for him to contain himself. You tapped on his shoulder, making him know it was okay. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and earning a grunt from his beautiful pink lips.

   Jean bucked his hips against yours, beginning to thrust into you, making sure your whines were of a good nature and he wasn't hurting you in any way. When he was sure, from the way your fingernails dig into the sun-kissed skin on his back, he picked up the pace.

"Jean-aaah! Jean, faster. Please?" He opened his eyes to look at you; your face was flushed and a bead of sweat was trickling down your temple. He swept it away with the pad of his thumb before leaning down and kissing your lips softly.

   However soft his kiss was, his thrusts were the complete opposite. Jean pulled out of you almost completely, leaving your hole to clench around his tip, before he pushed his cock in again. You didn't have the time to react, because every time he did so, he went faster, until he was all the way inside you, hips pushing against yours and a hand cupping your face to kiss you again.

"I love you so much. God -fuck- you're taking me so well." He tilted his head back, mouth agape at the sensation. You could feel his member twitch inside you, knowing he was close to cumming. You entangled your fingers with his hair, playing with it as you moaned out his name.

"Jean, I'm so -so close-" you arched your back even more, legs wrapping tighter around his waist, not allowing him to pull out.

“Me too sweetheart..Ah, fuck-you feel so good!” His praises went straight south, sending you in a trance as you felt your orgasm getting closer and closer.

“Jean, I want to have your babies!” You blurted out between heavy breaths and moans. Jean stopped momentarily, way too surprised by your confession, but you were too fucked out to notice.

His face softened, and his whole body flushed red as the realization hit. He had been talking about family a lot, and it was something he definitely wanted with you, but every time you had that conversation you cut him off with a ‘we don’t have enough money’. Jean had spent quite a few hours of his life worrying and questioning if you really wanted a family.

“Why did you sto-” You looked up, bringing a hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun. Jean looked like he had gone stupid, with a smile from ear to ear and a few tears threatening to leave his eyes. You pulled him down and kissed his happy tears away, starting to move your hips against his own. He shook his head with a chuckle and started where he had left off, continuing to rock his hips against you, cock buried deep inside you.

“Gonna put a baby in you...fuck- I’m gonna make you a mommy, angel.” It didn’t take him long to cum, especially after he looked down to where your crotches met, only to see his cock coated white with your juices. Your orgasm reached you the moment Jean moaned in your ear; he knew all too well how much you loved his moans. The knot buried deep in your stomach came undone and you could scream out of pleasure. You heard yourself babbling about babies and how good Jean felt, but neither you or Jean could make out any words, too high on the feeling.

You could feel Jean shoot a load of his hot cum as far in your cunt as his cock could reach, pushing the white liquid in you with his slow thrusts. His head fell on your shoulder, hair sticking to his forehead and breath hot on your skin.

“God, I love you.” He whispered into your neck. You tried keeping your breath steady as he slowly pulled out of you. He turned over and reached into the picnic basket, taking two cotton towels out and pouring water out of a glass bottle on them. He used one of them to run it up your cunt and thighs, making sure you were clean, then brought the other to your sticky with sweat residue face, watching you lovingly as he patted the cold towel on your temples. You took it out of his hands and did the same to his own face, pushing his hair back to cool him down.

“So, when can you take a pregnancy test?” He asked after he made himself comfortable inside your arms, one of his own meeting your stomach and rubbing it mindlessly.

“In a week, if we want it to be accurate.”

“That’s too long!” He whined, looking at you with furrowed brows. You laughed and brought your face closer to his to kiss the wrinkle between his eyebrows and make him relax.

“You’re going to be the best daddy ever.”

“I can’t wait, angel.” He nuzzled his head in the soft skin between your shoulder and neck, both of you feeling sleepy as the sun started setting behind the mountains. Yawning into your hand, you wrapped your arms around your fiancé tighter, closing your eyes and taking in the peaceful moments before he had to go to work again.

“I love you.” He whispered before falling asleep with a smile on his beautiful tanned face.

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Happy Father’s Day to Jean Kirstein, the only man whose babies I’d gladly carry<3

[itsmadamehydra]

My Savior || Wayne McCullough

A/N: Just some teenage girl trying to write the story inside her head, hope u like it.

Pairing: Wayne McCullough x oc

Warnings: rape, intention of rape, harassment, blood mention, bullying, language (a little strong)

.................

.................

I've always like to watch him by far, he just seems different from the rest (and oh boy, he is).

The first time I saw him I was in 7th grade. I was just one more girl of the many others that her tities just had started to show and my period started to visit me. I remember that day clearly, I was sitting at the hallway with my bestfriend at the time, eating infront of our lockers when I saw him.

"Am telling ya girl, the answer of number 5 was c." I said trying to reason with her about the science test answers "I told you that if u needed help to study, I could help ya." I smile at her and move my arm upward to touch her shoulder

"Yeah, yeah, I know...are you sure it was not D?" she said frowning her eyebrows once more. We stayed in silence for a sec before bursting into laughter and tears

Little by little our laughs started to fade, allowing ears to hear the background and aswell some loud voices, it sounded like an argument but by the hears of it a fight was going to start soon. "What you think is happening over there?" Cassie murmured, I stared at the end of the hallway where apparently was were the voices were coming from.

"I don't know..." my lips formed a thin line while I was thinking about what could have been happening in there, "You wanna, you know, go and see?" I looked back at my friend

"Freak yeah" she laughed grabbing my hand and running down the hallway to see the soon to be fight.

Once we got there, there was a mass of students surrounding what appeared to be the ones who where arguing. "Ugh, I can't see, I hate been so small." I said, "Hey, that smallness is beautiful and you know you can use that in your own benefit" Cassia said and winked at me.

"I mean, yeah but I can't-" my word stopped at the moment I heard a want sounded and I believe to be a punch in the face. "You saw that!?" Cassie said, "That was freaking awesome, please tell me you saw it!" "Um, nah Cassie, I cant see a crap" i said while trying to find a whole where to see through.

It was only a matter of seconds until more punches were heard. I started pushing people more frantically, I wanted to see what was happening. When I get pass a few amount of studens I almost slipped, looked sown to see what was it and it was stains of blood, only a few but still.

"Oh gosh, disgusting." When I look up only a few students are still in the cafeteria and a guy wearing a grey hoddie was just there, staring at the bloodie face of another guy. I stared back at the hoddie guy and noticed a little hammer in his hand, and the words just came out of my mouth without even noticing, "Why the hammer? Want to be a constructed or something?" He just stared at me and pass by me without saying a word and keeping a neutral face.

"Who the hell was that crazy ass weirdo?" I hear Cassie's voice behind me. "I don't know" I responded, "But I will know...one day."

"Ok,ok, am not going to get in between your little search thingi but am sure he is not good news." Cassie said, "You saw what he did, and he has a FREAKING hammer, y/n! Covered in blood y/n!" She grabbed my shoulders from behind, "I think we all understood the message, stay the fuck away from him, honey."

And I just smiled.

Months later I learned his name. Wayne, Wayne McCullough. Fits the ring if you ask me. Everyone was speaking about how violent, crazy and wierdo he was, about how he was going to show up at your house to beat the hell put of you.

I just observed him by far, well, I like to think that I noticed him. I noticed how he usually beats up those who are some assholes jerks that have only one brain cell as much. Noticed that he is not much of a talker and a shy boy. Noticed how he makes his lips thin when he gets lost in thoughts. How he closes his fist when he is about to do something. His strangely high pain tolerance. His pale skin and dark hair appeared to me to be very llamative and aswell his strength. He was and is skinny but somehow has a great strength, maybe do to the unincredible amounts of fights he gets in. Experience makes the master is what the say...right?

Years went by, we entered to highschool and the nervousness along with the fast beating, sweating and butterflies were still there every time i either tought about him or saw him walking around.

Cassie stayed with me for a while until she decided to join the group of nasty ass bitches with no brain cells who believed no one was better than them. While I...well, I stayed small for a big part I guess, always with good grades, teachers love me and try to be nice with every one I guess.

Everything was going great until Cassie along with some guys recorded me somehow while being drunk and them trying to overpass the boundaries, and let me tell ya.. that was just the start.

The had videos of me at the school bathroom, pictures of my underwear under my skirts and dresses, them trying to touch me. I had to learn to defend myself, stopped using skirts, dresses, shorts even do I loved wearing the. Replace my shoes with tennis and always had hair ties.

"Y/n, wake up! You're going to be late for school, don't think ama wait for you!" I mom yelled.

"Yes, mom! Dont worry, am up!" I run down the stairs with my backpack, went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went straight to the car.

"Oh for God sake, y/n" she said went she looked at me and noticed my new hair style.

"What? You don't like it? I just cut it a little." I satered at her innocently

"Your father is not gonna like it and you know it." She said and the stress lines appeared in her forehead, "You know this is his weekend and-"

She couldn't finish her sentence because I started taking, "Am not going to that dickheads house, mother." I said strainly, "Don't want to see his and face of that bitch he cheated you with..." i lowly said but loud enough to hear.

"I know, honey but you have to and besides you get to see your brother!" She patted my thigh, "Haven't seen him in a while right?" She said with a sad tone

"You should be the one seeing him...not me." I stared outside the window, there were just some trees and houses and garbage.

Mom and dad divorced a while back, he cheated on her. The house was a mess that day, screams and broken glass everywhere. Sammy was lucky, he was at grandma's but I was home...listening to every single word. That was also the first time a sneaked out and the first time I sort-of spoke to Wayne.

"What are you doing here?" I heard someone said behind me, I looked and it was fucking Wayne

"Just trying to have some quietness i guess..." I stared at my fingers and started playing with them because of my nervousness, "...What are you doing here?" I asked softly

And he stayed silent...the whole time after that. Either way, his company was nice and the side profile, ufff, amazing.

"Ok, we are here." I stared at the building for a sec before giving my mother a kiss in her cheek and entered to the building.

"Hey y/n! Nice ass!" That was the jerk of all jerks, Jonathan.

I turned around and stared at him, "Oh yeah?" He nodded, "Want to see me shop of your dick?" Changed my tone while saying that into a lower and more serious tone. He just stared at me with sealed lips and left.

I continued walking to my locker and I come to see tgat my freaking lock is broken, I search in all the spaces but nothing is missing.

"Come on! They had just changed me of locker!" I silently yelled. Started grabbing my books for the next few classes when I felt a hand in my shoulder, by instinct I grabbed the wrist, pushed the person against the locker and added pressure in the throat with my other arm.

"Hey y/n" Orlando smiled, "New move?" I chuckled and removed my arm, now, standing face to face I respond

"You know you shouldn't do that Orlando bunny." I laugh st the nickname I gave him a few time ago. Orlando was one of the few FEW people who talked to me, well, he talked to everyone but still.

"I know... I just forgot I guess man." He looked down, "Y/n...have your tities grown bigger?" His face looked confused.

I slapped his head and punched his shoulder, "Could you please stop looking and thinking 'bout tities when am around you?"

"I mean, yeah sure...and sorry about your lock." He points the locker, "Wayne thought it was still his but since-" I cut him off before he could continue

"Wayne?" I asked confused

"Yeah, Is tha-" i cut him off again

"Why did he tho?" I murmured staring at my lock in hand.

"It used to be his locker but oh well...he missed school for 3 weeks and yeah." He grabs his backpacks laces after explaining.

"Oh...ok, is he still here tho?" I looked at Orlando

"I guess..." he was about to say pther thing when the bell ring and we started to go toour classes, "See you later gorgeous!" He yells from the corner of the hallway.

I stayed there...just staring at my lock for a while, then order my things fast and left to class. What I didn't know was that someone was watching at me.

Three days later, i was walking back home and i heard s car going at full speed and nasty comments were started to be listend. I kept walking trying tk pretend they didn't exist when the car is suddenly over the sideway and infront of me.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME ASSHOLES!!" I yelled.

"But...you are bot dead right, bitch?" Jonathan said getting out of the car. There were five, 2 guys and 3 girls. "Don't prefer to suck my dick and be my slut, promise I'll pay a good amount." He said infront of me,

"She is already a slut baby." Veronica said

"I bet she has sleeped with half school, wouldn't surprise me if you haven been org*e or something." You know, comments are comments, you are the one who decide what hurt you and whats does not, but being Cassie the one who said that...broke my freaking heart.

I couldn't stand it anymore, wanted to leave the place so i came up with a plan very fast. I walked closer to Jonathan trying to be the most seductive I could, touched his chest, abs and got closer to his ear and said, "You are going to regret everything" Punched him with all my strenght in this genitiles, stomp on his feet, punched his nose and ran the faster I could out of there.

"You bitch!" I heard from far but i continued running, I couldn't stop, i was scared, didn't know what could happen if the get me. I could hear the car engines behind me, but i didn't stop.

I was close a bridge, ran underneath it, passed some houses but i could still hear the voices and car. My legs hurt, i needed to catch my breath, i could hear my heart beat, my body felt on fire. When I less expected am suddenly trapped, there were some abandoned buildings and warehouses but no way to get put of there. This was it, my end.

"Couldn't escape from me you nasty little bitch!?" I heard his voice, i was never one to pray but believe when i say i begged to God to save me. "You ain't going anywhere...bitch" he was behind me, I could sense it.

My hair was pulled, he pulls me by my hair to his car and i notice that it's just him and another guy. Am not getting out of here.

"We are going to have so much fun!" He licks my cheek and i try to kick him wherever.

"HELP!" I yelled, "SOMEBODY PLEASE, HELP!" my voice sounded horrific, like if i hadn't drank a single drop of water in ages, "please" y murmure my last pledge before he finally puts me over the capo of his car.

"No one's gonna help you, you slut." He says, the other guy was just watching and standing still, doing nothing.

I gave up, didn't even notice I was crying until I tasted the salt in my lips. I felt him over me, unbucking my pants and then...i didnt felt his weight anymore, instead, i heard a cry of pain, and then another cry, and another and another.

I lifted my head and there he was, grey hoddie and little hammer in hand...my savior. I smiled.

My smile just grew bigger and bigger every second I saw that boy swing that motherfucker hammer, every second that Jonathan's blood was spilled. I lool around in search pf the pther guy scared that he might try to grab but I get calm when i see him unconscious on the floor.

A few minuts later th cries stop and i look up, Jonathan was missing 3 teeths and face covered with blood, i think he could even have a brocken rib or something.

Am sitting on top of the car's capo when a feel a slight, fragile touch.

"You ok?" Wayne askes pulling a string of my hair behind my ear.

"...now I am." I smile to him and he returns a little small tiny one with a grin. I was about to say something else when he suddenly speaks

"Want to be my girlfriend or whatever?" He says looking exhausted, I chuckle

"Try a little harder and I might be." I say soflty with a small thin smile and he avoids my eyes but I still get to notice a small blush.

...................

Hey! So, yeah. This is my first ever published thing. Hope you enjoyed it and if you want a part two or to keep writing, am open to any suggestion! Am not very good with the warnings section so if you could help me with it, i would totally apreciate that!

Thank you for reading,

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Independent Study Part 2: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader x Geto Suguru

synopsis: I literally have no words for this synopsis. I think I might be going to horny hell after this.

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW (like FIVE ALARM level! PLEASE Y'ALL, IF YOU ARE A MINOR STAY THE HELL AWAY PLEASE)

masterlist

11:59.

You ring the doorbell and wait patiently for the grad student-turned employee to answer the door, but you’re surprised to see a white-haired, blue-eyed man instead. He stares at you for a moment, and you look back at him with equal curiosity, then he calls out over his shoulder:

“Suguru! I think your professor is here.” Geto appears seconds later, dressed in his black slacks and a blue shirt, rubbing his left eye slowly.

“Hey, y/n. You’re right on time, as usual.” When you’re let into the house, Suguru moves to sit on the couch in the living room instead of leading you back to the bedroom, which was unusual. But the white-haired boy was also unusual. When you sit down on the plush furniture, you sit your bag beside you and pray that the new person in the room wouldn’t plop down and curl his arm around you. But of course, he did just that.

“Suguru… She’s a lot prettier than you let on.”

“Y/n, this is my friend, Gojo Satoru an--”

“But you can call me Satoru, gorgeous,” he purrs and you try to keep a straight face, eyes trained on Geto’s unmoving expression.

“I’ve invited him over for our fifth trial.”

“Will he be watching?” you question and Gojo breaks out into a cackle, leaning his head back and letting the sound travel in the open air.

“Me? Watch?” He laughs again, but you ignore his rudeness.

“No, sweetheart. He’ll be participating this time. I just need your permission and then we can get started.” Two men at once… you consider the possibilities and rub your thighs together, pursing your lips.

“If you need anything to sway your choice… I do have some very interesting tongue skills,” Gojo mentions, making a show of sticking his tongue out and moving it around wildly for emphasis. You choke on air, but Geto just rolls his eyes, standing up.

“Let me get you some water.” When he disappears into the kitchen, you try to wait patiently for him and not engage with Gojo, but he whispers into your ear,

“I think you’re going to have a lot of fun with us today… You ever been fucked from behind while sucking a dick at the same time?” Oh, shit.

“Geto!” you call out, standing from your seated position. He returns immediately, a water bottle in his hand.

“What’s the matter?”

“C-can we go ahead and get started?” Both men are stunned into silence, but when Geto hefts the water bottle in his other hand and sits it on the counter, you know he’s ready too. You’re flanked by both men on your way to the bedroom, but you’re already terribly wet at the thought of having four hands roaming around your body instead of the standard two. So when Geto turns on the camera, does his introduction, and states the name of the trial, you’re already half unclothed with Satoru’s fingers undoing the zipper on the back of your yellow dress.

“Hey,” Geto grunts, noticing the two of you undressing quickly. “Didn’t realize you’d want to fuck each other immediately.” With that, he strips off his tie, leaving it behind him as he stalks toward you, fingers expertly undoing the buttons on his shirt. By now, both men have their shirts off and are fondling you over your bra and underwear, Satoru behind you and Suguru in front of you. While Geto angles your face toward his and kisses you tenderly, Satoru is pressing kisses against your neck and back, and you’re in heaven, feeling sensations tenfold. Thick fingers dip into your underwear from behind, and Satoru hisses, feeling the slick between your thighs.

“Holy fucking shit; it’s like a damn waterfall down there…”

Suguru chuckles, takes your wrists, and pulls you to the bed, laying underneath you while Satoru removes your underwear easily and dives face-first into your core. Your head lifts up as you feel his hands spreading you apart, but Suguru pulls you back down to continue kissing him, murmuring:

“Easy there, professor…”

And Satoru was not lying when he said he had interesting tongue skills. Your moans are amplified when Suguru frees your breasts from their enclosure and begins to suck on them, his tongue running around your nipples skillfully. Satoru pulls away from your dripping cunt for a moment, undoing his pants and letting them fall to the ground.

“I’ll bet you ten dollars we can make her cum more than three times.”

Your right nipple pops free from Suguru’s mouth and he laughs. “You’re on.” You groan loudly, feeling fingers dip into easily, then slide back out just as fast, to which you keen a little, hips bucking back.

“Yeah, I don’t want to finger-fuck you. Sorry, professor, but I’m here for the main event.” Gojo mentions, The familiar crinkle of a condom wrapper coming undone reaches you despite being fully immersed in the moment with Suguru’s mouth on your tits, but when you feel the thick cockhead at your entrance, you angle upwards, almost fully coming off of Suguru’s body. But Satoru uses his free hand to push you back down, sheathing himself halfway before pulling back out.

“How is it?” Suguru asks him, hand holding your head against his chest.

“Fuck, man,” Satoru groans, leaning into you again. “How do you fuck this waterslide raw and not nut immediately?” Geto laughs out loud, rubbing your arm tenderly as you stare up at him in ecstasy.

“Practice, Satoru. That’s all it is. Practice.”

Geto was absolutely right about that, you realize, as Gojo fucks you from behind, and your mouth is stuffed with Geto’s cock. You can barely make any noise with both men ramming into you, but damn if it didn’t feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” you groan, the shaking of your thighs beginning to feel like an orgasm just teetering on the edge of your consciousness. Satoru takes a couple of fingers and plays with your clit, which topples you over into your first orgasm of the afternoon.

“She’s an eager little slut, isn’t she?” Gojo mentions, smacking your ass roughly with the hand he used to make you cum.

“Gojo,” Suguru warns, holding your hair and looking down at you tenderly. “You know the rules.”

“My bad,” Satoru mumbles. Your fingers rub away at your clit furiously, hoping to let the high crest again. Geto pulls you off of his cock, and you take a deep breath, feeling Satoru remove himself from inside of you at the same time. You wonder what the two are up to until you’re flipped on your back and pulled to the edge of the bed by Geto’s rough hands. He enters you in one smooth move, and you instantly notice the difference between the two:

What Gojo lacks in girth, he makes up for in length, and vice versa for Geto. Satoru peels off the condom and strokes himself a few times before pressing the tip of his cock to your lips. You open your mouth to accept him, and while you're taking his length into your mouth, something new happens.

Gojo leans over to touch Suguru’s face affectionately, and while he’s still ramming into you… they lean in for a kiss. Your body suddenly realizes this is all the permission it needs to cum one more time - and with no hands, just two cocks - you feel the sensation of an orgasm ripple through you again, built up by the first.

Suguru seems to notice as well and smiles as he pulls away from Satoru’s lips.

“Gojo, I think we’ve got our second one.”

“Shit, she’s cumming again?”

“Look at her,” Suguru murmurs, and Gojo looks down at you with his blue eyes, observing the way your body stiffened and relaxed rhythmically. The amused glint in his eye does not escape you, and you wonder what he’s thinking as soon as he removes his cock from your mouth.

“I’ve got just the thing for her, then. I’m not losing my ten dollars.” Another condom is produced and rolled down Gojo’s length, but when he takes his place behind Geto and leans him over you, your face contracts in confusion.

“Wait, wha--”

“You better hold on to something, Su,” Gojo whispers, and Geto angles his hips up - still deep inside of you - as Gojo presses into him with a calculated slowness.

“Oh, fuck.” Suguru moans, his breath hot against your neck. It takes a few strokes for Gojo to get fully inside of Geto, but when he is, all bets are off.

“Holy sh--” you’re cut off by the smacking of two sets of hips, one driving the other deeper into yours, and with more force. But Geto is lost, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tries to keep pace with Gojo. And Satoru’s eyes are glazed over, his head angling back far enough so he can watch your facial expressions with a lazy smile painted on his face.

“Hey, professor, I forgot your name,” he breathes, and you try to reply, but your brain is lost somewhere a million miles away. “Su, what’s her name again?” Suguru can’t reply either, sweat dripping down from his face onto your chest as he tries to catch his breath. Gojo just laughs, knowing he’s got both of you fucked completely senseless. Your hands catch Suguru’s face and you pull him down to kiss you in between the heady moans and groans shared between the two of you.

“Oh, god,” Geto whines. “I’m gonna cum, ‘Toru.”

“Fucking do it,” Satoru grunts, and that’s Suguru’s ticket to let loose inside of you, his violent orgasm bringing you to the edge as well. “That’s it,” he moans, then grunts in time with his deep thrusts, which pushes Geto’s cock into you and some of the cum leaking out of you.

You all remain there, coming down from your highs slowly as if you were all suspended on a cliff you couldn’t walk down from quite yet.

“Yo, Su,” Gojo pants, wiping his face. “Trials six through ten should be like this again. You know, to account for any extenuating variables.”

“Agreed,” Suguru nods, pressing a kiss to your face and whispering, “What do you think of that, professor?”

“Anything you want, Mr. Geto,” you exhale, and the two men smile at each other mischievously.

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