#let zap say fuck

[incorrectdexhamiltonquotes]

Dex: We've got lots to look forward to, just try to have a PMA. Zap: What's a PMA? Dex: Positive Mental Attitude. Zap: Get fucked.

[hafwen]

When I try to search for a dentist that knows how to deal with disabled people all I've been able to find is pediatric dentistry

I still have teeth and am disabled as an adult! Where are the practices for me???

[coweye]

The Honda Odyssey

Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.

Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.

If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.

In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.

Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.

So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.

One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.

Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.

No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.

In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.

To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.

“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “

“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”

“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”

You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.

You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.

“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”

“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.

It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.

Wrong.

You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.

Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.

Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.

Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.

Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.

For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.

Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.

You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 

You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.

In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  

Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.

“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.

Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.

Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.

Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.

You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.

Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.

Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.

Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.

Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.

That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.

It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?

In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.

You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  

Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.

Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.

“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.

Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?

“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”

“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.

The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.

 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.

Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.

“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”

You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.

Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.

“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.

“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”

“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”

Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.

It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.

You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?

The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.

One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.

All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  

With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.

“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.

“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  

Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.

“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.

“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”

“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”

You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.

“He say where he was taking him?”

“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.

“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”

“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”

“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.

“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.

“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.

“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”

“You can smell him from the car?”

“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”

“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.

After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.

“What’s your world like?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“

“What did you just say?”

“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“

“No before that.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.

The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.

“What do you mean if?”

“I…”

“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”

“I mean I think they can!”

“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.

“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.

“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”

“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.

“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”

“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.

“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “

He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”

Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.

“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.

“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.

“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.

The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.

“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.

Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 

Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.

If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.

It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.

Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.

Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.

“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.

Yes.

You really do that.

You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.

“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.

“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”

The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.

“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”

Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.

The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.

The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.

You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.

He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.

Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.

You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.

“You sure you want this Darlin’?”

“Darlin��?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”

Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.

“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”

Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”

You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.

“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.

Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.

You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.

Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.

“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”

You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.

“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”

He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.

The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.

You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.

You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.

“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.

The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.

“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.

You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.

You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.

Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.

“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  

Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.

Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.

“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.

When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.

“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.

“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.

“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.

“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.

You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.

Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.

The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.

After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.

The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.

“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.

“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.

“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."

Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.

"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”

[shy-writer-999]

Thigh Riding: Monster Trio + Law

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: How would the Monster Trio & Law act while you ride their thigh? What would they say and how would it be initiated? (afab reader~)

Shoutout to the anon who requested this—I was going to do Ace as well but I think that someone (@possiblyreallyme) recently did it better than what I would have been able to come up with, so I’ve linked that here.

Thigh Riding: Monster Trio + Law

ZORO

The first time you ride one of Zoro’s thighs, it’s his idea. He loves to see you get off in any way he can imagine.

“C’mere. On my thigh. I want you to ride it.”

You’re surprised because you’ve never done this before, but he’s been rabidly horny recently and he’s been getting real creative.

His thighs are thick and hairy—the perfect seat. He’s just wearing boxer briefs, so when you lower your barely clothed cunt onto his thigh, you can feel his wiry hair bristle your skin.

His cock twitches when you look at him, poised on his thigh, waiting for instruction.

His hands come to rest on your hips. “Grind on me.”

He knows just what you like best. His goal is to see you dripping wet with pleasure and a hot mess. He has no problem accomplishing that.

He smirks as your rub your sensitive spot on his bare thigh. Friction builds on your core, quickly sending zaps of pleasure from your clit to the rest of your body.

“Getting wet already?”

 As you slide yourself back and forth on his thigh, you start letting out filthy mewls and keens. Your panties are soaked through.

“How does that feel? Are you getting off by just humping my thigh, gorgeous? Must be pretty desperate.”

As you start rutting down into his thigh more frantically, your face twists into an expression of lust. After a handful of minutes, your eyes become glossy and half-lidded, cheeks flushed pink. He grips your hips tighter and pushes his thigh up into your cunt, eliciting a moan.

“Did that feel good? You like rutting your pussy on my thigh that much?”

He’s getting off seeing you hump so needy and pathetically on his thigh. He can feel the precum seeping out of his tip, making a stain on his briefs.

You’re completely lost by now, feverishly fucking his thigh. You’re making a wet mess out of this thigh and your panties are leaking. Your face is contorted with pleasure.

“You wanna cum for me baby? Wanna cum on my thigh?”

You nod and Zoro starts to push his thigh up into your cunt again. It feels so good that you collapse forward onto him as much as you can, your head coming to rest in the cook of his neck. Your core glides over his thigh while you ride him.

A few more squirming humps and a few more jerks of Zoro’s thigh up into your cunt  and you’re brought to your peak. You cum all over his thick thigh; you’re hot and sweaty, and Zoro is about to fuck you into oblivion.

“You ready for my cock now, baby? You want the real thing? God, you’re such a mess. C’mere.”

He lifts you up and you’re straddling him now, his cock pressing at your entrance. He proceeds to fuck you slow and deep until you’re even more of a babbling, fucked-out mess. Then he finally lets you cum on his cock, and you return the favor by letting him cum inside of you.

LUFFY

You’re cuddling with Luffy, legs entangled. You’re half asleep and Luffy is too.

His thigh is pressing on your crotch, and when he adjusts it, he inadvertently grinds his knee on your clit.

You let out a soft sound, kind of like a moan but not as intense. He does it again a few more times and you grab a fistful of his shirt. “Luffy.”

The idea hits him like lightning. He scoops you up from where you’re laying together and sits up, placing you on his thigh.

He’s already hard, and as you blink the sleep out of your eyes, you pull him into a kiss. You feel his thigh under your panties and instinctively start grinding back and forth on it.

“How does that feel?” He asks in all sincerity, and you respond back with a moan “feels good”. He’s always curious about what gets you off—he thinks its hot to see you get flustered and needy.

“Fuck Luffy, it feels so good.”

“Well keep going.” He’s all smiles like usual, his hands on your hips, but his voice is getting gruffer. He notices how wet you’re getting.

He’s getting harder by the minute. Something about seeing you get off on his thigh, of all things, is about to drive him feral.

He gets the idea to move his thigh up and down—maybe it will make you feel even better. He likes to see you in bliss like this, it makes him want to rip all your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

He’s holding off on touching himself right now because he’s too entranced by you haphazardly crashing your cunt on his thigh.

When you finally cum climax on his thigh, he picks you up and puts his cock in you. His voice is strained and husky. “My turn.”

He fucks you until your eyes roll back in your head. Luffy can go round after round, no problem. You riding his thigh was the perfect appetizer to his main meal—cumming in you no less than three times. By the end of it you’re seeing stars and he’s grunting and groaning in your ear.

SANJI

cw: instance of “pretty girl” and “needy girl”

Sanji thinks it’s so fucking hot that you want to ride his thigh.

You ask sheepishly and he becomes so excited he practically throws you over his knee.

The idea that you’re using him any part of him to get off makes him feel like he’s going crazy with desire.

He loves to feel your weight on his thigh. It makes him feel like he’s holding you, like you’re close together, like he’s supporting you in some way (which, technically, he is). It reminds him of when you sit on his face, and he’s hard just thinking about it.

He literally loves you so much that his heart melts any time you look at him. He blushes crimson and attends to your every want and need.

Can’t overstate how excited he was to have you straddling his thigh.

When you start dragging your clit back and forth on his thigh, his heart skips a beat. He thinks you’re gorgeous and is intoxicated by your presence.

He just adores you and it’s apparent in his voice. He sweet talks you as you desperately start writhing on his thigh.

He’s almost breathless. “Wow.”

“Just like that my love.”

When the angle is right, he’ll pull your face near his and caress your cheek with his thumb. He pulls you into delicate kisses, kisses your neck, and swipes his thumb over your lips.

“Pretty girl so worked up riding my thigh.” His grip tightens on your hips as he gets more aroused. He was already rock hard when he initially put you on his thigh, and by now his erection is raging against his pants.

“You’re getting my thigh so wet, beautiful. So fucking hot.”

He coaches and praises you through it. He calls you lovely things and uses his hands to slow down the pace of your thrusts. He wants you to ride him slowly until you’re begging him to let you go faster.

“Mmm, you wish it was my cock instead, angel?”

Your cunt throbs and pulses as you increase the pressure on his thigh—your whines and keens go straight to his dick.

He occasionally reaches a hand up to smooth down your hair and pet your hair and cheeks. He’s so obsessed with you it’s absurd.

“So wet for me, baby. Does it feel good?” He coos in your ear, and it gives you goosebumps.

Sanji starts to bounce his thigh until you’re literally drooling with pleasure. "Go faster now, my love. Go faster." Your thighs start to shake and your slick is oozing on his thighs.

“You look so gorgeous right now. Rutting all over my thighs, needy girl. I’ll fix you up just right, but I want you to cum before I fuck you. Okay?”

When you finally cum, he gives you more sloppy kisses. He picks you up by your waist and hips, carries you to the bed, and fucks you in missionary. Sanji does all the work—think of it as a sort of reward for riding his thigh.

LAW

Law lowkey makes you ride his thigh.

You give him bedroom eyes and he knows immediately that you want him to rail you.

Law says no—sometimes he likes seeing you whine and beg for it.

Obviously, he gets immediately aroused at the thought of you pleading for his cock but today he wants something else.

“You really want it? I’m gonna need a little convincing today.”

You think that he just wants you to give him head, but he simply crosses his arms and says “that’s not what I meant.”

When you ask him what he did mean, he tells you take off your pants and straddle his thigh.

“If you want me to fuck you so bad, you’re going to work for it, sweetheart.”

You’re confused as fuck and half naked. He tells you to put your hands on his shoulders, and then he puts his hands on your waist.

“What are you waiting for?” His look is deadpan, his tone is annoyed and cold, but behind those breath-taking eyes you see a fire roaring. You’re not quite sure what he means, but you’re willing to do anything if it means that he’ll put his cock in you later.

Law starts to bounce his knee and you immediately get the memo.

“Law, you want me to get off on your thigh? That’s embarrassing.”

“I don’t care what it is. Now move.”

He uses his leverage on your waist to push you down on his thigh while he bounces his knee. Your initial confusion is quickly thrown to the side as the friction on your clit builds.

Heat starts to pool in your core.

After a few moments of rubbing your throbbing cunt back and forth on Law’s thigh, your panties start to saturate. You can see that Law is hard already.

When you start letting out needy puffs of breath and muted whines, Law can’t help himself. He wants to see you as worked up as he can.

“Pick up the pace, beautiful. Show me how badly you want it.” Law purrs, his voice is deep. He’s trying to conceal how starving he is for your pleasure. He needs to keep himself in control so he can see you just how he wants you.

You start to rut your hips faster, dragging your sopping wet panties and humping his thigh. You’re so wet that it’s seeping through his pants.

“Law, I want it.” You're begging.

“And what would that be?”

“Your cock. In me. Please Law.”

“Is that so? You’ll have to make do with this. I’ll fuck you after you cum.”

He smirks. You didn’t take long to get this desperate.

He bounces his thigh again and you start moaning his name—that heat and need building on your core are ready to explode.

“Are you going to cum on my thigh or what?”

He pushes your hips down forcefully and bounces his leg harder. It hits your clit and folds just right.

You cum aggressively, basically screaming his name. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. It’s an overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of pleasure. Unreal.

His bulge presses on his pants, painfully tight, and he knows that he’s about to fuck you until you can’t talk anymore.

“That’s more like it. Now take those off panties and let me put my cock in you.”

---

(´ ᴗ｀✿)

that’s all for this one :3 here's my masterlist if you're curious! and here's the initial request/my response~

ohoho? thigh riding, you say? >:3c may I request some headcanons of that with characters of your choice?

woooow anon thank u sm for this, this was amazing to write because I have a burning passionate love for man thighs. They are among my favorite things… I think I have a fetish for them or smth because I really really like them, could stare at a nice hairy thick pair of thighs for literal hours. >///<

[aakeysmash]

college!sukuna would have you as a sugar baby: exam season edition

college!sukuna masterlist

“You know what, I should just drop out,” you ramble, pacing in your living room, hair disheveled and a pencil behind your ear.

Sukuna just hums, sitting on the sofa while munching on chickpea chips he bought the other day saying that “protein is protein”.

“Or or or… I should find a rich man! Yeah, I should be a sugar baby,” you continue, and he just nods, mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels.

“At least I would be happy with my ass on a yacht. Hey, do you think I have sugar baby material?” You ask him, stopping for a second, thinking. All you get as an answer is a grunt. “Sukuna? Are you even listening to me?” You wave your hand in front of the tv. That catches his attention, but only for a mere quarter of a second.

“What?”

You sigh, exasperated. “Why am I even talking to you?”

“Do a spin,” he says, lowly, still not sparing you a glance, putting a bunch of chips in his mouth. You’re so out of your mind that you actually do, and when you turn around his eyes are on you for the first time since you started talking 30 minutes ago. 30 minutes of straight whines. He’s giving you a once over, gaze fixed over how your oversized sweater is falling from your left shoulder, letting him see the top of your boob. He imagines himself sucking exactly on that spot, your breath by his ear, his mark on your-

“Yeah, I’d pay for you,” he says nonchalantly, getting back to zapping.

“You would?” You say excitedly. “Wait. You would?” You add after a moment, taken aback, your face falling progressively. You whine again. “I’m never going to be a sugar baby,” you finish, sprawling out on the carpet near the sofa he’s sitting on, closing your eyes.

“Yo, I have taste, the fuck you mean?” He replies roughly, looking down at you and slightly kicking you in the ribs. Just enough to barely move you from your star-like pose. You open your eyes, looking up at his four ones, assuming a mocking face.

“Now do you?” You say, doubtful, rolling on your side before sitting up while he’s flipping you off. You’re face to face with his knees. Yeah, knees. Keep it PG.

He gets his elbows on said knees, putting his index finger under your chin to raise your face. “Yeah baby, I’d keep you as my prettiest whore if I had like 50 years more than I do,” he says. Then he immediately adds “But I don’t, so stop fucking complaining and let me watch my damn tv. It’s fucking Saturday, give me a break,” flicking your forehead and blowing on your face at the same time. He tastes like real chickpeas and you’re almost impressed by how the pack of chips didn’t lie about the ingredients. He sprawls back on the sofa, occupying as much space as he can by laying down on his side with one of his hands under his chin, returning to his chickpea chips with the other. You scrunch your face, then pout.

“Then what am I supposed to do? I can’t take 5 exams in a week,” you whine, getting your forehead on the little 7 inches rectangle that is left naturally near his chest.

“Suck it up, pussy boy,” he answers, bored. You’ve been going at it for what feels like an eternity and he’d already have lost his patience if seeing you miserable didn’t get a snort out of him. You turn your head to face him, hair all in your face from the movement, but you don’t have the strength to put it in a more comfortable position.

“You don’t get it,” you sigh, your features turning even more worried. You stay like that long enough to start dozing off (and seeing how sleep deprived you are lately, that’s about 40 seconds max), hearing him clean his hands. Suddenly, you feel his hand brushing on your cheek lightly, moving your hair behind your ear and away from your face.

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” he tells you gruffly, scratching lightly on the top of your head. You hum. You know he’s right. He knows you know you’re capable of doing it. He gives your head a couple more pats before pushing it a bit.

“Go study and stop bothering me now. This tv ain’t gonna watch itself,” he says calmly.

You get up, nodding. “Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you for some backhanded comfort,” you reply, corners of your mouth turning upwards for the first time since exam season started (literally two days ago. Hey, you’re a smiley person!). He grunts, not looking at you again, and you know that’s all you’re going to get from him.

You get back in your room to study, and suddenly he finds himself losing interest in his chips in 15 minutes, the buzzing sound of the voices from the western movie he’s watching merely a background noise. Was it always so quiet when you weren’t around?

[thecordelialetters]

I’ll love you in every multiverse I Five Hargreeves x Reader

WC: 1,791

Post Apocalypse Au! ( Yes Im writing another one )

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.

Disclaimer: This takes place after season one if Viktor didn’t blow up the moon.

The Umbrella Academy had saved the world from its supposed end. The siblings had lounged around the academy slowly letting reality set that they had avoided their demise. It was the next morning when each of them woke up to check their surroundings, making sure that doomsday wasn’t there.

Five went downstairs for his morning coffee when he saw Allison scrolling for flights on her phone and Klaus checking where was the next place he could buy drugs.

“Leaving so soon?” He questioned.

Allison looked up at him although happy to see her brother, guilty because he was right.

“I have to go see my daughter. After everything that has happened I need her now just as much as she needs me.”

Five nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from, although a little irked she wasn’t wasting any time running away.

A loud zap was heard and wind swirled toward the top of the room. A red portal had opened above the living room. The rest of the siblings (Luther, Viktor, Diego) had rushed down to see what the loud noise was. It was deja vu, like when Five had returned for the first time. In the portal, they could see a fight happening. Figures that had looked like them in a place that looked like their home. A woman’s back came close to the portal, they could see she was in combat but stood observing. Another man who they couldn’t identify, rushed forward and pushed the woman through the portal.

A girl who looked to be in her early twenties had fallen through. Her face was covered in soot, her hair black as night, and her eyes closed in pain. She was wearing a navy body suit that clung to her figure, and blood, not her own, stained the fabric.

The Hargreeves gathered around to observe this strange phenomenon trying to assess the danger. They were so used to people being against them, so why would this time be different.

You coughed loudly before sitting up, and each sibling tensed with adrenaline. The girl looked around the room with blazing blue eyes before she landed on the youngest Hargreeves.

“Five?” you questioned.

Everyone turned to look at Five.

Luther spoke up first, “You know her?”

“I have never met her in my life.” Five retorted.

The girl dusted off her suit before standing. “Well if you never met me, you either will meet me or I’m dead in this universe.”

“The names y/n , y/n Hargreeves.”

“I don’t remember our father adopting anyone else,” Diego said. He raised his knives, carefully ready to strike at any move she would make.

“That’s because I wasn’t adopted into this family. Married actually.” And with this, she held up her left hand, a beautiful diamond ring shone in the light with a gold band beneath it. The diamond was embellished with 2 smaller emeralds on the side, perhaps representing her lover’s eyes.

“Married? To who.” Viktor questioned.

“To him.” She looked back at Five.

“Well not to him, an alternate version of him. We met a few years ago and got married, nice seeing the family again,” she nodded her head towards the siblings.

“So what are you saying you guys are married in a different timeline?” Klaus asked.

“No, not a different timeline, a different universe.” She sat down on the couch.

Your brain felt like it was rattling against your skull, and your body ached. You took a minute to think. Fuck, it was going to be difficult to get back to your Earth, and to make things better you had no idea where to start.

“Alright before you all start firing questions at me, someone get me a cup of coffee, black please.” You threw a jacket that hung over the couch on you to hide the state of your clothes. "Allow me," The alternate of your husband said. Five quickly blinked the two of you into the car and began to drive, leaving his brothers and sisters dumbfounded. "So you and I, are married in another multiverse."

"Correct." "You look to be about my age, how come I haven't met you yet here." Surely he would remember someone as beautiful as you. "Well it's as I said, my version here could be dead or you might not have met her yet. That being said although 18 out of the 20 multiverses I have visited, we are together." "And the other two?" "In Earth 216, we are strangers, never have crossed paths, and never will. We simply live our lives with other people." Five's eyebrows furrowed. For some reason even if he didn't know you, he didn't like the idea of you with someone else. "In Earth 894, we were madly in love but our egos destroyed us, and we were never the same since." Five could tell there was more to that story but didn't press any further. "So tell me about us, how did we end up together." "I was Diego's friend first, he and I met in the police force. Diego kinda took me under his wing as I was the youngest graduate out of the academy. Perks of having a high IQ." Five raised his eyebrow at that. "Anyways, he invited me over after your father's funeral. " "Long story short, you fell in love with my charms and I was the only one who could tolerate you. We got married not too long after. It was a small wedding but it's my most precious memory. Our families had gathered together at the church no too far away from here. You cried on our wedding day by the way." Inciting a side glare from Five.

"But...that's where we had some problems." "Do you remember when I fell out of that portal?" Five nodded his head remembering seeing a fight in the alternate dimension. "Well, apparently some of the 43 are not too happy about their powers, nor happy about living among the common people, they believed themselves superior and it became chaos." The two of you arrived at Griddys. Five walked over to the side of your door and opened it for you. "Thank you, darling." You said with a smile. Five's heart spiked at the nickname. He shook his head at the feeling, obviously, it's just what you were used to calling YOUR Five. The two of you sat at the counter and ordered your coffees and sweets. You signed before pulling out a small stack of photos from inside your suit. "This is us and your family." The photo was a picture of you and Five on your wedding day. Five had never looked so happy. Beside him was Luther who he assumed was his best man, next to him was Viktor, Diego, and a man who looked like you. You must have caught his staring, "That's my brother Damien." He nodded and looked beside you. You were wearing a long white dress with intricate lacing, the dress was strapless with a square neckline and had a small slit on the side. Your veil was flipped over your head and flowed down your back. Beside you, was Allison as your maid of honor and two other women who he assumed were your friends. You weren't looking at the camera but at him. The next picture you gave him was a close-up of the two of you. You were the one taking the photo. His alternate self was older and had longer hair and facial hair, but he faced your side kissing your cheek affectionately. "This is my favorite photo of you." You handed him another photograph but this one didn't have you in it. This one was a picture of just Five and in his arms a little girl. She looked like you. Five gulped, a million questions ran through his head. Could this... could this have been his future if he didn't make that stupid jump? You said that not all multiverses are the same, you and him could never meet in this one. But that didn't stop his heart from hurting at the thought of missing out on a life of happiness because of his arrogance. "Before you jump to conclusions, she's not ours. She's my niece that we were babysitting. You just looked so sweet with her. You had always told me you wanted kids before but I wasn't ready." You had looked away sadly. In your home, Five always wanted to settle down and raise a family of his own, but you felt like you weren't ready. Now you regretted not because you weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back home. The two of you sat in silence drinking your coffee, both thinking about the what-ifs. "So...how did you end up here. I've been able to time travel but I've never thought about the possibility of multi-dimensional traveling." "As I said there was a fight between us, your family, and some of the 43. They called themselves the Ascendants. Believe to be the superior race." You took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ascendants had a man who could travel the multiverse with his own power, no special gear or machine need. We had planned to capture him but miscalculated. He was ready for us and he aimed to take out me, his biggest threat."

You took another breath before looking into Five's eyes. "I can warp reality. It is essentially in the name. I can manipulate reality itself, altering the fabric of existence according to my will." "But not without a cost," you continued. "Each time I control something, and the bigger it is, the more of my life force I use." Five sat in silence. This was a lot of information to take in. "So what now. How do I help you get back home." "I have...no clue. You were always the smarter one of the two of us. You were the one who had built the machine, of course before it was destroyed when Viktor took out the house." You sighed. It was going to take a lot of research and time to figure it out. "Well, I'm newly retired and have nothing on my plate so let's start at the library." He hopped off the stool and made his way to the door. "You coming?" He said turning to look at you. You smiled, he was a great man. Even if this Five wasn't your husband you loved him no matter what. You ran up looping your arm in his making your way out of Griddy's. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ Pt 2 of this story is out now!

Author's note: I got tons of drafts just full of ideas I've had and never gone through with. I've been rewatching the MCU films and Spiderverse so that was kinda my inspiration for this one. If you like my work check out my other Five stories here! I also always appreciate comments and feedback! It definitely keeps me going. She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.

[alnilaem]

HELLO HELLO HI!!! just read your butcher!simon and i’m. in LOVE??? maybe you could continue about reader like. keeps running into him at the Worst Times (running late going somewhere looking like shit, barely awake or crying in the elevator idk LOL) and he’s just like 🤨🤨??? OR reader tries to make small talk with him since they usually get off work at the same time but simon being simon he’s just like. hm. or grunts HE’S TRYING! BUT HE’S JUST a bit socially inept… oRRR reader bakes and had some leftovers and decides to give extras to simon and he’s like. Okay . and pretends that he’s not amused but secretly loves it SO CUTE AAGHH can’t think of anything else but penny for your thoughts? teehee LOVE YOUR WORKKK

ARGHHHH socially inept butcher!simon is so cute. i wanna build a shrinking machine and zap him with it and fossilise him in amber <3

-

Dusk has eclipsed Manchester, draping a greyscale blanket over the city by the time you enter the laundry room with a hamper tucked under your arm.

That was fifteen minutes ago. And since then, you’ve been trying to get the damn washing machine to work.

It’s an old hunk of junk. Repurposed scrap metal with duct tape lining its corners and a dog-eared note hanging above it, reading, Do Not Overload! in crude writing.

You bend your thumb into the start button for the umpteenth time, but it’s fruitless. The feeble machine rumbles to life, sputtering, then has its embers killed as it fails to continue running.

You angrily huff. Your eye bags are as laden as your muscles, heavy and weighed down with the stress of everything piling up. Job hunting; the constant maintenance your neglected flat needs; the abrasive attitude of your new neighbours.

Fleetingly, you consider moving back home. But before the rumination snatches you, you snuff it out with a swift, irritable kick to the drywall next to you, your toes bending with the impact, the pain crawling up your marrow.

“Bit uncalled for, don’t you think?” Chimes from behind you, and you swirl around, coming face-to-mask with Simon. You hope he can’t see your dewy waterline.

“Don’t believe that wall ever did nothin’ to ya,” he tacks on.

The cellophane of the plastic bag he holds—which you presume carries his laundry—crinkles as he clenches his hand. He’s swathed in sweatpants and a compression shirt, slick with a wisp of sweat, and lets his curls sit freely, its tint somewhere on the threshold between rustic cocoa and gilded blonde.

Simon’s words belatedly catch up to you. You heed his attempt at a playful inflection, unsure if it was meant for you or for him, and flush when you see how expectantly, and bluntly, he’s eyeing you.

You listlessly gesture to the washing machine. “It isn’t working.”

His grunt is prefatory. Simon walks towards the machine, poises a fist over it, and brings his hand down on it in three, sparse punches.

The machine coughs out exhaust, then burgeons into a smooth run.

“Not broken,” Simon grumbles, his words barely lucid beneath his Manchester lilt, “just fucking old.”

“I see,” you mumble, “thanks.”

Simon steps back and begins unloading his own laundry. He stuffs wads of clothing, all imbued with blood and the scent of meat, into another machine.

A pinprick of gluttony tugs your stomach. To say something, anything, to keep the conversation warm.

“The mask…” you begin, “is the black mold in your flat that bad?”

Simon turns to you, his eyes deadpan. It sends icy humiliation up your spine, leaving you pettish.

The hum of the washing machine loosely offsets the thick embarrassment in the room. Loud and tinny.

Beneath the rumble, however, a small, barely-there chuckle crosses Simon’s tongue. “Ha,” he says. It’s charitable at worst and genuine at best.

“… I should go… while my clothes’re washing,” you mumble, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.”

You’re past the threshold, stepping into the corridor, when Simon calls after you.

Your lungs stutter and stop. You want him to ask for your number, ask you out to lunch some time, but when you turn around, you feel like you’re falling.

An ornamental pair of panties dangle from Simon’s forefinger. It’s lacy, gauzy, and should be lying on the floor of your flat.

You burn a searing molten as you snatch it from his hands, mortified, and sprint towards the lift.

You turned around before you could see it. A caper in Simon’s eye, the barest implication to something more than a maladroit interaction: an amused, titillating smirk beneath his mask.

[cherryredstars]

Cherry, I’ve always wanted to say this to you… You. Are. Amazing! I seriously can't get enough of your work!

How about this? Reader is a TV host that bashes on Spider-Man. However it is just a job to her and doesn’t believe in the things she rants about. Anyway, one day reader is caught in the middle of one of Spider’s Man foes and our favorite grumpy spider saves her. Though he is extremely rude to her when she tries to thank him (what else is new?). Reader has to convince him that she doesn’t hate him (the opposite in fact) and decides to show him her appreciation.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Thigh Riding, A Little Electricity(??)

A/N: Thank you, lovie!! Enjoy!

Unedited

The world must hate you.

The stiffness in the air is haunting as the burly hero trails behind you, making sure you don’t make more trouble. You weren’t exactly looking for it, it just came to you. How were you supposed to know actively looking for one of the biggest criminals in the past few weeks for a story could be dangerous?

Okay, maybe he had a point.

You sigh, trying to subtly glance over your shoulder. Even through his mask, you can see the grimace he directs at you, pixels slightly distorting. You thin your lips, rubbing your arm. Great, even Spiderman is after you.

“Um,” you start, turning to face him. He crosses his arms over his chest and you try not to let your eyes linger on how it tightens his suit. “My house is just around the block, I’ll be fine from here.”

He doesn’t move, continuing to stare down at you like you’re a child. You gulp, balancing on the balls of your shoes before slowly turning around and walking forward with a dragged out whisper of okay. You lead him down the block until you stop in front of the entrance to your apartment complex.

You face him once again, putting on an awkward smile.

“Thank you for, uh, escorting me home.” The hero says nothing, looking over you for any injuries before starting to turn around.

Your hand rushes out, electricity pulsing under your fingers for just a second as you grab his arm before he shakes you off.

“I don’t mean those things.” You rush out, suddenly desperate to clear the air with your favorite hero. “I-it’s a job. Just a job.”

You can hear the small scoff he lets out from under his mask, something in you deflating slightly. You open your mouth again, but no words come to mind to reassure him. You clamp your mouth shut, a stupid idea coming to you. You reach out, grabbing his arm again and turn him to face you. You’re quick as you lean up and press a hard kiss to his mask, your lips tingling from the buzzing technology. Instinctively, Miguel grabs at your waist to steady you on your toes, a low grunt leaving him.

You pull away, clearing your throat. Embarrassment flushes your skin and you sharply turn away. You really are stupid or something. “Good night.”

You stalk towards the entrance door, body moving like a robot as you avoid the burning gaze at your back. You open the door, turning when you feel hot electricity directly behind you. Your eyes stay on his chest, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“I’ll walk you to your door.”

What he really meant was, I’ll follow you through the door and proceed to fuck you against it.

You let out a soft moan as he presses you against the wall, pressing a suited thigh between your legs as he guides you up and down it. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, digging in so strongly that the suit glows white under them. You can feel his lips at your skin, mouthing and sucking on the delicate curve of your neck. Your pencil skirt has folded up to your waist, leaving only your panties to protect your aching clit from the subtle buzz and zaps of his suit as he grinds you on him.

You throw your head back, a whimper leaving you from the harsh hold he has on your hips. You can tell he’s trying to get you off quickly, probably in a rush to get back on the streets and protect the rest of the city. But right now, he’s here, in your apartment with his sharp fangs teasingly dragging against your skin.

You wonder if he can feel the wetness of your parties through his suit, if he is able to smell the pure arousal wafting from you as you buck your hips against his thigh with heavy moans. You try to look down at his face, only to see the bottom half revealed so he can mouth at you. You whine in disappointment, even though the rational part of your brain understands why he won’t reveal his full identity.

He seems to smirk at the nose, flexing his thigh and making you gasp as your clothed cunt runs over the corded muscle. A small curse flutters from your lips as another pleasant flicker of electricity runs over your clit, your orgasm just over the horizon.

Miguel speeds up his movements, making you grind faster against his leg until he’s sure you’re about to glitch out his suit from how hard you grab onto him. You come with a strangled cry, cunt fluttering against his suit as his teeth give a small nip to your neck. The tiniest dose of venom hits your skin, but it’s enough to leave your post-orgasm state limp. You slump against him, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure and his suit. He ever so gently moves you to the couch, laying you down as his mask fully obscures his face again. You’re left to drowsily stare at him as he approaches your window, opening it before disappearing into the night.

What a way to thank your heroes.

[ceilidho]

ghost asking price to fuck you because price was older and had more experience. wanted price to show him how to make you feel the best, what to do. :3

and now. i am going. to shriek. slight twist on this because I don't necessarily envision a threesome here, but I think Ghost would enjoy Price taking a look at you and guiding him.

Ghost bringing you to Price for his approval and then locking the door behind the two of you when you step into his office. Then leaning down to whisper into your ear that Price is a good man, that there's no one Ghost trusts more than him, that he trusts him with his life, every single day, without question.

He sits you on his lap and spreads your legs over his, flipping your skirt up and just nudging your panties to the side. You let him even though you can't help the way you grip Ghost's legs, nails digging deep into his thighs, even through the material of his pants.

You had a mind to bolt, to freak out. To yell at Ghost that you're not some plaything and stomp out of the room. But it doesn't come out. You sit there, lost for words and breathing in too little oxygen, quick little hitches that betray your anxiety.

Price leans against the desk to watch the two of you, eyes calm in spite of the show being put on for him. Like this happens every day.

You think Ghost's been with women before so you almost wonder if they've done this before, but somehow it feels different. It feels reverent. You feel it more so when you peek over your shoulder and catch Ghost staring up at his captain's face, eyes intense. Searching for his approval. Looking at him like he's brought something home and needs to be reassured that he did good.

"She lets me put it in twice a day," he says, matter of factly more than a boast. The lightning zap of shameful pleasure nearly bowls you over, but he keeps you pressed to him, back to chest. Holds you steady in place. Anticipates how much of a shock his words would come to you.

"You make her come every time?" Price asks, voice gravelly and you hate, hate, hate that it makes you clench up. It shouldn't. He's your boyfriend's boss, his captain - a man you've (up to now) looked at with nothing but respect and cool distance. His voice shouldn't make you wet.

You jolt when Ghost's rough fingers pass over your clit. "Every time. Sometimes more."

"Good lad."

You choke on a whimper when Ghost's hips bump up into you, hard cock pressing against your ass. The grunt that spills out of him is visceral, barbed like wire. Like Price's words affect him just as much as you.

[hitomisuzuya]

hello suzuu! congrats on 1000 posts 💞💞

soo i was thinking of some thighfucking with mouchie, im not really sure about the plot, so it's up to you!

dont forget to take care of yourself and eat well 💋

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. thigh fucking. teasing degradation. i hope you all look at my blog in dark mode.

thank you, dear 🥺 you take care of yourself as well.

scaramouche sat back in his chair, and enjoyed the show. he knew he had a meeting to go to, but why on earth would he be in a hurry to leave for a meeting he planned on being late for, anyways? especially since there was quite a vision perched on his lap.

you, in nothing but your panties grinding your pussy into a sopping mess on his thigh while you cling to him.

he knew he could help you along, maybe steadying a hand on your hip to help guide your pace. but, he was getting off watching your struggle to get off on his thigh in your desperation for him. he grazed his fingers feather light up your stomach to your ribs to see you shiver in the pure pleasure of his fingers grazing against your skin.

"you are making such a mess on my thigh," his finger curled under your chin, "what do you have to say for yourself, slut?"

the throbbing in your clit made you unable to form words at first. you opened your mouth, however what came out was only a whimper of pleasure, your panties clinging and unsticking to your clit with your movements. "i..i'm sorry," you moan shakily.

scaramouche chuckled, tightening his grip on your chin a little. "use that pretty mouth of yours, and repeat what you said when you crawled into my lap like a needy whore," he finally put a hand on your hip, rubbing his thigh against your pussy.

your back arched as you shamelessly grinded on his thigh. "i don't want you to go. i'll miss you. take me with you, you won't even know i am there," you moaned, tears welling in your eyes as your body twitched in pleasure. your pussy was clenching around nothing, making you squirm slightly in his lap.

scaramouche looped an arm behind your back, and sat up, moving your chest closer to his mouth. "you are so cute when you beg. all pathetic and needy," his tongue snaked out to swirl around your nipple. "do it some more."

he knew very well he could take you with him. sit you on his lap and keep you quiet, letting you rub and nuzzle against him while he gave the mission briefing. but he was feeling extra possessive today. he didn't want to share you with the outside world today.

a loud cry of pleasure sounded from you, sharp jolts of pleasure brought on from the sensation of his tongue working your nipple to harden zapped right to your clit. your cheeks were flushed in utter adoration for him, your orgasm tightening to an agonizing degree in your core.

"promise you won't take too much time?" your lower lip trembled, your grinds on his thigh increasing in urgency. your legs shook from the effort, chasing the dizzying pleasure of his thigh rubbing your panties on your clit. "i'll miss you so much. please, i love you, scara. your thighs are so beautiful," the building of your orgasm was making you babble.

"adorable little slut," he cooed, scooping your nipple into his mouth to suck on. now he definitely wasn't dignifying his squad the right to even look at you today. you are all his.

scaramouche is always extra greedy when it comes to you.

louder moans that made his cock hard sounded from you. you are absolutely quaking with pleasure, barely able to hold yourself up. sighing, he supposed to should go easy on you. he didn't want to break you too early.

you whined in protest as he took his mouth off your nipple. his hand swiftly dipped into your panties. feeling the merest brush of his fingers against your messy folds made your hips automatically twitch to grind on his fingers. he pressed slow, form circles on your clit.

mewls of pleasure keened from your throat. scaramouche smirked and waited for the inevitable. a few moments later, you choked back a sob of bliss. scaramouche sat back in his chair again, feasting his eyes on you cumming hard and further soaking his thigh. "are you going to be a good girl and wait for me?" he asked, putting a hand on your cheek and forcing you to look at him.

"mhm. will you fuck me when you get back?" you turned your cheek into his hand, nuzzling against it.

"my pretty, not only am i going to fuck you," he groped your ass roughly, "i am going to breed you full. how's that sound?"

[yzashaven]

2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒06

꒰ —♡ C O R R U P T I O N ﹒ K I N K ꒱

EVENT MASTERLIST !

FEATURING ! archon!scara, lyney, dottore, kaeya x fem!reader

WARNINGS ! corruption obvs!!, reader wearing a collar, shibari/bondage, electrostimulation, cunnilingus + fingering, mentions of using aphrodisiac, dottore's clones involved, some name calling, praise + degradation

NOTE ! wow so early!!! (not) i can't tag some people again.... erm... anyway!!! i overused a few words here ngl—also 2 are proofread, 2 aren't. thank u all for your patience i've been so busy with school it's tiring 😭😭

[ chérie - darling, amour - love ]

event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kanaedd @ciarchivez @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @kateybuggi @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @supercoolusernameomg @uchihaeirin @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @nothingfuninthislife @eunchaeluvr @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @zxdksimpo @kikosaidbye @bleubirdinthesky @rottmntrulesall @angelofdarkness2 @kvronushi @adeptuscharm

—ARCHON!SCARAMOUCHE

corrupting you is a piece of cake for scaramouche; it's his favorite thing to do. an adorable, obedient, little shrine maiden as his personal slut? all for himself at his mercy? sign him up. oh and of course, to make sure you take all that he gives with no resistance whatsoever—he'll make sure to tie you up one way or another. in this case, he decided to take it easy, bounding your wrists together at your back while a collar was around your neck.

"there you go~" he coos in a teasing manner, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he guides you in riding him. "feels good, hm?" all that you could do was nod and moan helplessly in response as you let him take full control over your body, "mmh, now that i'm thinking of it, you've never been fucked properly before, right?" he grins darkly as he sees you nod; it's true, he is your first after all. a whimper slips past your lips when he abruptly pulled out before situating you down onto the soft velvet sheets of the mattress, pushing your legs further down until you were practically folded in half, "this is what you call a mating press, doll~" he chuckles before slamming his cock inside you once again, pulling at the leash attached to your collar roughly, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him. "oh, don't look at me like that, darling. i might just have to fuck you harder~" and as per his words, his hips began to sharply buck against yours as he observed each and every one of your moans, from the quiet ones to the loud ones that ripped through your throat and making your voice crack out of pure pleasure. not even a minute later, you squirt around his cock whilst it was still thrusting in and out of you at a quick and rough pace, "so adorable~" a scream was drawn from you as his fingers went down to your clit to unexpectedly send a short, weak zap of electro as a way to stimulate you further. "oh come on, i know you like that~ you're just a shy little slut waiting for the right man to break you apart, huh? well... luckily for you, your god himself will be the one ruining you real good~"

—LYNEY SNEZHEVICH

hear me out... soft dom lyney teaching you the ways of romance through intense intimacy and pushing your limits. :3 stimulating you with endless, overwhelming pleasure!!

"can you do one more for me, chérie~?" lyney's fingers and mouth have been skillfully dealing with you for a while now; digits thrusting inside you as they hit all the perfect spots so delicately, his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, gently licking and nibbling on the sensitive bud. you let out whimpers as he continued just that, "you've already came for me so many times, hehe~ a reward should be granted, yes?" before you could protest and say anything at all, he stands up from where he was kneeling and pulls you by the thighs towards the edge of the bed, "mmh~ your sweet fluids are all over your thighs now..." he frowns, "...let me fix that and fill you up with my own cum, hmm~?" without another warning, he easily slides his cock inside your warmth, letting out a small moan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. "feels so good, amour~" he teases as his eyes were fixated on your reactions—body shaking as your lips were parted, gasping for air, moaning and whimpering softly as he started a gentle pace that slowly increased in intensity. "oh, that fucked out look on your face looks so innocent... yet so dirty at the same time~"

—IL DOTTORE

oh, the doctor, experimenting once again, like always! now... who's the best test subject for a rather "intimate" one? of course, his innocent lover.

"how do you feel, my pet?" he says and pats your head gently like how he would to a dog. his thrusts within your cunt were slow and deep, deliciously stretching you out with each snap of his hips, "i knew it... your tough demeanor earlier was nothing but a thin shield. you really thought you could resist me?" he lets out a small laugh, mocking you, "you're just a weak girl on the inside, waiting for someone to tear her pride and dignity to shreds~" he chuckles darkly and reaches forward to fondle at your breasts delicately, "i can't wait to slowly break you apart~" suddenly, he snaps his hips forward as the pace of his thrusts increases, along with the force he was putting in it, constantly hitting your g-spot perfectly. "hah~ that aphrodisiac must be kicking in by now, no? you already look so fucked out and i can feel you getting wetter by the second." he says in a teasing manner, spreading your legs further apart with the help of his clones to hold you down as some of them were touching your cheek delicately, your neck, and your breasts. dottore's hand that was fondling you going down to grip on your hips to steady his rough pace, "focus on me, darling. focus on who's fucking you~" all of that was enough to send you over the edge as you cum hard, walls contracting around his cock that was still busy abusing your pussy, using it as roughly as he always wanted to. "i'm gonna turn you into the sluttiest whore ever~"

—KAEYA ALBERICH

oh... this sly, flirty, smooth talking cavalry captain. he always thought your pure and innocent nature was so adorable, it was his favorite trait of yours. he thinks he's so lucky to have that same girl bent over his desk, begging for more of his rough loving.

"whore." kaeya spat out, thrusting hard inside your cunt from behind as his hand firmly grips at your ass, spanking it. "look at you... moaning all for me, begging for my cock. you that addicted already, huh?" you nod, "good." he smirks mischievously as you let out a lewd scream the moment the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot delightfully, again and again, driving you insane and making your body jolt with each buck of his hips. "fuck—you're too good~ come on, beg me some more. beg me to fuck you senseless~" with a rough thrust forward, it hits a deep part of you that had you cum undone for the umpteenth time. "oh?" kaeya sighs softly, "how am i gonna make you beg when all that's slipping out of your pretty lips are lewd moans and mumbles? hmm~?" he say in a teasing way, "fine then, just keep moaning for me, 'kay~?" his fingers find their way to your clit, pleasuring you further by rubbing it in a way that matched the pace of his thrusts; his other hand making its way up to wrap his long fingers around the back of your neck, holding you down, cheek pressed flat against the cold wood of the table. "even without saying a word, i know all you want right now is for me to fuck you~ just be a good girl and take it all, and i'll keep giving you more~"

[gamblersdoll]

heybae i got a request that’s been on my mind 😩 so like, imagine mha pro-hero boys s/o wearing pheromone perfume for their date and them not being able to get it together 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

+ their s/o being clueless to why theyre acting like that🗣️

teasing, heavy smut intended themes, grinding, groping, light shocking, mind control , daddy kink. denki, kirishima, izuku, bakugou, shinso

izuku had the best smell ever, sure you rolled it on your neck and wore the dress that he loves— and it only smells like shortcake to the naked eye and nose, but for him? you smelled different, his arks wrapping around your torso and nose buried into your neck.

“smells good.. which one is this?” he mumbled in your skin, softly nibbling at the flesh until you responded. “you best answer quickly—“

“its a new one, zuk.” you giggle, trying to pull away and look alright for the eyes of the public. what you worry is if izuku was all over you, would his rankings drop?

“well i gathered that, baby.” he sarcastically says, a hand on your thighs and he grips— hard. “we wont be out here for much longer, ‘kay?”

“we just got here… why do you wanna leave so early?”

bakugou knows of the pheromone perfume that went viral, yet he doesnt know what it smells like exactly. all he smells on you is something savory in his nose, even if it was sweet. “nope.”

“no what?” you innocently ask, leaning against his shoulder and holding his hand. you know he smells it, his knee bouncing when he gets nervous or aroused.

“you know fuckin’ what, brat.” he growled to you, trying his best to keep his composure and not eat you up here— because thats all hes thinking about. “you wore the good smelling perfume you got, and you know damn well you smell too good.”

“what perfume? most of the perfumes i have are mists or oils.” you giggle, putting a hand on his knee.

“you better move your hand or im going to fuck you up.” he deadpans, his hand gripping your hip and sliding up to the side of your breast. “if yer’ gonna play dumb, fine— but let’s remember i dont care about fuckin’ in public.” he reminds.

denki just shifts all the time, pulling his sweats or jeans down and hes got a fist on this lap, every now and again hes softly punching his lap when youre not looking (he does this because ‘it helps the boner go away.’)

“you okay, honey?” you asked, holding his hand and kissing his cheek, he never not responds, but he feels like hell when you get so much closer.

he tilts his head back away from your face, watching his adams apple bob when he swallows. you get into his lap, he groaning and putting his hands on your hips. “denkiiiiiii, whats the matter, baby?”

“we gon’ fuckin fight.” he looks to you through his lower eyelids. “you got that phe-pheromone shit, didnt you?” your core tightens, his voice becoming deeper when he keeps his head back.

“what for? im not even wearing perfume.” you giggle, cradling him and having each leg on his side.

“oh, so im delusional?” he shoots his eyes to your face, hands groping your breasts pulling the shirt and licking his lips. “if you think im delusional, say that.”

“kaminari— we in public!” you whisper shout, trying to move his hands but he swats you away.

“oh, nowww we’re in public?” he dramatically says, tilting his head back up and sucking on your collarbone. “always touchin me and shit.. now im going to touch you, mama.”

you hiccup, a whimper from your throat and he presses his hips up against your heated folds. “kami—“

“fuck, smell so good, sweet thing..” he growls, taking his finger and a small zap hits your thigh. “hehe, feels good, doesnt it?” he asks, licking his hickey that he left on you. “finally got cher’ zing, ma.”

kirishima is a mutt, anything that smells good on you, he bites and drools on your skin to see what smells good. usually he would try and do that— but this time he had to keep his hands to himself. “pleasepleasepleaseplease..”

“hm?” you turn, peering your eyes away from the movie.

“please let me bite you, please beautiful. promise i wont bite so hard again, i swear.” he whines, getting closer to you in the movie theater seats. “you smell so good, pretty please?

“i smell good ?” you question, him shaking his head yes fast and he reaches in for a bite, but you pull away. “what do i smell like, kir?”

he pauses, not really knowing how to describe the scent, but he swallows thickly. “.. i dont know how to describe it.” he whines, pressing his hands on his lap and he groans. “please, just one bite.”

“if you cant tell me what i smell like, do you think you deserve it?” you tease, getting a little mean with him and he pouts.

“you smell like pears.”

“still not getting one.”

shinso has stolen your perfume before and tested it on himself, but he didnt realize you had also worn it around him. it makes sense, one day on a coffee date you both get stares from people around you.

“do you have something on you?” he asks, drinking his own hot coffee versus your frozen. “i can know when you’re lying.”

“mmm..” you hum, slurping through the straw and looking away.

“princess,” he says, activating his quirk and having a hand on your thigh. “are you wearing that perfume that got you ravaged last time?”

“yes.” you say, feeling his quirk disappear and bite your lip. damnit all, and his stupid manipulative quirk. “you dont have to always use your quirk on me, meanie.”

“you like when i do though, princess. especially when i have you tell me how you want to get fucked.”

“shinso— in public!” you remind, him shrugging and smirking to you. “keep your voice down at least!”

he gets into your ear, a hand on your tummy. “do i have to remind you who your talking to?” he warns, watching your head shake no. “oh, because what i think is you’ve forgotten who i am.” you try to open your mouth, but he clicks his tongue. “whats my name again?”

“sir.”

“no, no, no..” he coos, a hand in your hair and his fingers scratch your scalp— a warning he might pull your hair. “whats my name , or do i have to have another session with remembrance?”

“daddy.” you mumble, a heat to your face and you turn your head away. “youre a fuckin perv.”

[kissatoru]

𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

content · NSFW MDNI, bratty sub!satoru, afab!satoru, amab!gn!reader, dom!reader, d/s dynamics, restraints, pussyjob, that good old praise-degradation combo, thigh-fucking, pet names (doll, darling, sweetheart), fingering, squirting, oral (f! receiving), overstimuation

wc · 2.4k

Satoru loves punishments.

Overstimulation, edging, spanking... they all wear the same thin veil of the word ‘punishment’ but to Satoru they are anything but. He knows that he shouldn’t be trying to get punished on purpose, but who can blame him when your punishments are always so sweet? You always give him what he wants in the end, which is what you both want, really. That’s why he’s never worried when you threaten to ‘teach him a lesson’ or other such things, because the truth is they never taught him anything except that he loves punishments.

Well, until now, that is.

Because now he’s on his back, wrists secured to the headboard by handcuffs and legs bent all the way up his torso. His head thrashes in different directions, unable to decide whether to look down at the cock sliding between his folds, hoping that he might be able to will it inside of him with his quivering lip and puppy dog eyes or sheer force of will, or squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the sight of you being so close yet so purposely far from where you wants you.

“Ohh my god, please,” Satoru whines, yanking on the cuffs and trying to move his hips up. “Please, just– fuck, just put it in!”

You scoff and dig your nails into the pale flesh of his thighs. “Don’t forget what got you here in the first place, slut,” you snarl. “You’re only getting as much as I want you to get and nothing more.”

Satoru flops his head back, milky white hair sticking in sweat-slick swirls on his forehead. “I know, I’m sorry! I really am, okay?” he mumbles, kneading his pink lips together to fight back a moan, or maybe a sob. “I promise I won’t do it again, just–” A sharp inhale, followed by a soft keen. “Just please put it in. I need it... so bad.”

“You should have thought about that before letting that fan flirt with you,” you say, almost laughing. “Honestly, you’re so fucking shameless sometimes, ‘Toru. You think I don’t know you do that shit on purpose? You really think I believe you when you say you won’t do it again?”

He smirks, as if your questions are a challenge, and opens his mouth to answer — he really doesn’t know when to quit, you think, or maybe he does, and he just enjoys pushing you that bit further anyway — but you let go of one of his legs and seal his lips shut behind your palm before he can speak.

“I know you don’t. I know you just think I’ll play along with your little games as long as you keep giving me the same boring apology and a few pretty crocodile tears.” You lean in close to him, at the same time, pushing your hips forward and grazing Satoru’s clit, making him moan into your hand. “But I’m not in the mood to play anymore, Satoru.” You watch as his expression morphs from dazed to alert, how it falters and his eyes tremble like ripples through water at your dark tone. “I want to make you mean your promises and sorry’s,” you say quietly, your hand sliding down his jaw to rest around his neck as a warning, “I want to give you something to really cry about.”

And then you’re shutting the gap between you with a hard kiss, full of tongue and desperation, so passionate and addictive that it’s nothing short of evil how you break it in mere seconds, leaving behind a breathless, pouty Satoru. You just smile at him and drive your hips slowly forward, the movement smooth and easy with Satoru’s slick.

You set a pace that’s just enough to tilt him in the general direction of pleasure, but never quite bring him there. The head of your cock bumps against the underside of Satoru’s clit on almost every thrust and all he can do is cry out, his back arching weakly and his arms pulling taut in the air against the handcuffs that bind him, at the fleeting spark of euphoria that zaps through him. It’s good yet not nearly enough to get him any closer to coming, and bucking his hips up in search of that spark is not only useless, but surely pathetic, if the way your cruel gaze glints is any indication.

His thighs can only twitch in your grasp like a scared animal; inward, outward, like they can’t decide whether they want to close or spread wider for you. You don’t really give him a choice though; you just bend both of those long legs of his further back, so he’s gently angled toward the ceiling, and each tantalising slide of your cock through his rosy, wet lips causes the head to catch against his entrance. A few times, it even nudges inside for a single blissful second, and Satoru chokes, but never manages to let out anything more before that second is over and that brief feeling of his walls stretching around you vanishes, like a too-good-to-be-true mirage in a neverending desert.

Satoru’s mind and body go numb with the endlessness of it all. He begs and wails for a while, but those moments of fruitless pleading have long passed. Now, he is all quiet pants and throaty moans that grow louder with every small wave of flickering ecstasy. Damp stains paint the pillows a darker shade on either side of Satoru’s face, where he’s been tucking away his drool and tear-soaked face. He feels like a toy, an object for your pleasure, and he’d love it if it wasn’t for the fact that he isn’t getting anything from it.

Suddenly, you grab his knees and hoist them over your shoulder, which abruptly snaps your pliant boyfriend out of his trance. His head turns to look at you, the haze clearing up, now replaced with hope and an eager desire twinkling in his owlish blue eyes.

“Don’t get too excited now, sweetheart,” you say, smirking and patting the side of his ass. “Squeeze your thighs together, alright? Nice and tight.”

And despite everything, despite all you’ve put him through already, Satoru still manages to find the courage, the audacity to grin right then, toothy and daring and insufferable. “And if I do, will you finally put that cock to some use and fuck–”

You pinch his clit and immediately, his words melt into nonsense and his thighs clamp shut around your hand.

“There you go.” You hum and push your cock through a small gap between his full thighs, which is easy enough with how drenched both you and him are. “Good boy. Keep them together for me, just like that, that’s perfect.”

Satoru lets out a breathy whimper as you start to fuck his thighs. He grows delirious with every thrust, the way your length rubs across his swollen clit ever so slightly. He’s so pent up at this point that it might be enough to make him come, he thinks, but as you keep going, increasing your pace and the grip around his legs, he only ever gets as far as halfway. He’s wet and hot and shaking but by the time you’re coming, Satoru is closer to tears than he is to an orgasm.

Your hands tighten around Satoru’s legs for a moment, as your high seizes your body and the last of your cum sputters across his belly, before finally loosening and letting go. His legs drop and fall open, giving you a perfect view of Satoru’s messy pussy and the little puddle on the sheets under it. Beneath your heavy gaze, it seems to pulse and blush, and Satoru’s legs attempt to shut and hide it, but with a single push they’re falling back down and staying there, likely too weak to try again. It almost makes you hard again.

“Should’ve been inside,” Satoru grumbles.

You roll your eyes. “Could have, ‘Toru. Not should, could,” you correct. “I could have fucked you and came inside, had you not been such a fucking brat.” You emphasise your words with a light, playful flick to his inner thigh.

Satoru ignores you and pouts, not meeting your eyes. “You’re mean,” he says under his breath, but the blush spilling from his cheeks to his neck says that he might not be complaining.

You chuckle and lean over him, running your hands up his thighs. “Only when you’re bad, darling,” you whisper, trailing kisses up his ribs and nuzzling the soft skin. For a moment, you don’t say anything else. Just lay there, listening to Satoru’s still rabbit-fast heartbeat.

“Though I suppose,” you say, one hand sliding up to his chest, “you’ve been quite good at taking your punishment...”

Electricity runs down to Satoru’s core and his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t dare to say anything, in case you change your mind.

You sit up, and your eyes are on him as you drag your fingers through the ropes of cum painted on his abdomen, collecting it and leaving satoru’s muscles trembling in suspense. He watches you pull away your fingers while your other hand tugs on his folds. The cool air on his warm cunt makes it twitch. You languidly wipe your cum on it and spread it, down to his hole. The movement and its implications are enough to have Satoru’s breathing stutter and his legs jump.

His head tosses back when you finally slip a finger inside him. You start pumping quickly after and he moans in time with your steady pace. A second digit soon joins the first, and Satoru begins to aid your motions with his own, rolling his hips down, gasping, desperate, frantic.

“Slow down, baby,” you coo, but Satoru doesn’t listen, too lost in the throes of his pleasure, and only bucks his hips more violently. Your other hand grabs and presses it into the mattress, but when that doesn’t stop him, you pull your fingers out entirely.

“Nooo, no, no,” Satoru cries. “I was close, please, hurry! Put them back in, please–”

“Just because I’m being nice, doesn’t mean you can ignore me,” you interrupt. “It would be a shame if after all this, you didn’t get to come, don’t you think, ‘Toru?”

The realisation seems to materialise in his eyes and he rushes to nod his head.

You hum. “Then be good and listen.” And with that, your fingers are sliding back into him. He keens when you move them, trembling from head to toe with the effort of staying still. It’s slow, at first, but increasing in pace. It doesn’t take long at all for satoru to return to where he was, that teetering edge, the one weakness, the one thing that can break the strongest sorcerer in the world.

His pale skin and even paler hair both shimmer with sweat like moonlight while his feathery white lashes sit on his flushed cheeks like freshly fallen snow. Lips the same shade as his cheeks part around melodic notes that flow as if in an endless song.

“So pretty,” you whisper in awe, but Satoru doesn’t process the praise, too focused on wanting to come.

“I’m close, I’m close! Please, don’t stop, please!” he begs, his voice all high and strained. He’s always been loud in bed, but he’s most vocal in moments like this one, where he’s finally given what he’s been starved of and wanting since the beginning.

You smile and curl your fingers, bullying that tender spot inside him with short, harsh rubs, in rapid succession of every pump. The cuffs jingle and clink. Your arched fingertips squelch in his pussy while your thumb massages his clit. One, two, a few more harsh circles later and he’s squirting all over your hand. His body tenses like a bow string and shakes with the force of his orgasm. A few last spurts of fluid gush out his pussy before he finally collapses on the bed, panting and boneless.

While he floats down from his high, you keep yourself occupied with his pussy, sliding your drenched fingers in and out of his abused hole and watching how it clenches around the digits, like it’s still hungry for more.

The heel of Satoru’s foot finds your chest, digging into it, albeit not very strongly. “Ngh, st– stop... it’s too much,” he mumbles.

“Yeah but you like it when it’s too much, don’t you?” you tease, pressing down on that puffy bump inside him and making his weak leg spasm in the air for a moment before falling on top of your shoulder.

A sinister idea flares up in your mind.

You raise him up by his knees and throw his legs over your shoulders, his body almost vertical.

Satoru blinks and frowns at you sluggishly. “What are you–”

He gasps, so suddenly that you’d think he had the wind knocked out of him — because your lips are latching onto him and your tongue is lapping up all of his and what’s left of your juices. His ankles lock around the back of your head and his moans wobble like they can barely make it out of his chest in one piece.

“Ahh, fuck, wait, wait– please, it’s– ahh, stop, stop, I can’t–”

When you don’t hear the word, the one that would actually stop all this, should he really want it, you continue to eat him out like a man starved. You weave your tongue through his folds, over his throbbing clit, dipping into his still-oozing hole. Satoru ruts against your mouth as best he can in this position, completely betraying his own pleas. He doesn’t even realise he’s crying from the pleasure-pain until your voice is vibrating through him — a slurred, “Eyes on me, doll,” — and all he sees when he opens his eyes is a wavering blur and a silhouette that sharpens and reveals more of your features the more he blinks.

He comes almost instantly after your dark gaze comes into focus, slightly less violently than before, but still enough that he goes limp and completely motionless, save for the involuntary spasms that pass through him every so often. You set him down tenderly. His chest rises and falls and as you’re unlocking the cuffs around his wrists, he’s smiling to himself with all the energy he has left, because despite how hard you try to change it, to ‘teach him a lesson’...

Satoru still loves his punishments.

[snazzydwarf]

Jasons pit madness is actually him going mama bear mode-

I was brushing my teeth when this DC x DP idea just zapped into my brain and I HAD to let it out-

So I'd imagine that in the GZ time works differently, but in the sense where it passes really really slow compared to how it would normally pass. This is to allow newly formed spirits a time to grieve and heal before saying good bye to their loved ones.

So now imagine a newly formed Jason Todd arriving to the Ghost Zone, still donned with the Robin outfit he died in. 

While he floats aimlessly around for a while he eventually encounters another young ghost... like really young, no more then 5 years old.

He watched as this kid, his kid, grow into the powerful ghost he was always meant to be. His favourite moments where when Clockwork allowed them to visit outside the GZ to go stargazing so they could fulfil the kids space obsession. 

This ghost is Danny. (You can choose your own way of him getting there but I would imagine the portal being completed way earlier than cannon but still follows how Danny got his powers, although this time he was trapped on the other side of the portal rather than popping back out into this parents basement.)

Years pass in the GZ and Jason has officially taken Danny under his wing. At first it was difficult, he was only 15 goddammit! He shouldn’t be the soul caretaker of this kid, let alone a dead one! But the thought of leaving Danny alone in this green void made his stomach churn, he couldn’t up and leave and abandon a kid he said he would take care off, he would do anything for Danny. He wasn’t like Bruce

They were fine, happy even, he couldn’t imagine a life without this little tyke who became his whole world in the time he was in the Zone, but then it was all gone. His core felt a sudden pull so tight it felt like it was being ripped out of his body, it hurt, oh god did it hurt but it couldn’t compare to the sound of Danny’s cries as he watched Jason crumple to the ground and begin to fade away.

He stalked through Gotham at night and began setting up his plan for revenge, although Red Hood was born he couldn’t help feel like he lost something. The slightest thing would tip him of, making him go into a blind fury, ripping his enemies apart in an almost frantic desperation. He knew he was searching for something, fucking something, but what is it? 

He was back in the land of the living, and he was furious, but he didn’t know what for. His memories where fuzzy at best and the only thing he remembers is a sharpness in his chest and green in his vision. 

At first he thought it was the desire for revenge, that he was searching for retribution against the man who killed him and the man who didn’t do enough to save him, but it wasn’t until almost a year after he took up the Red Hood mantel did it all click into place and his world suddenly became right again, all it took was one voice and one word.

“DAD!”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We got each other (and that's a lot)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 18

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Rated: M

CW: Violent imagery; aftermath of injury

Tags: Steve got vecna'd (he's okay, though); Angst; Trauma; Fluff

Notes: Continued from day 3. They'll be fine, they just need to kiss some and get a lot of therapy, probably.

Wanna see these soft, broken boys sleeping? Check out the heartwrenching art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Eddie drifts.

Inky blackness surrounds him like cotton, every sound, every thought muffled. His neck and fingers and arms still hurt, but it's the dull kind that comes with exhaustion, the tingle of adrenaline finally rushing from his body. Some distant part of him is still stirring, demanding that they stay alert … but the darkness is warm and soft and alluring as it pulls him under. 

Something cold touches his hand. 

Eddie flinches awake, heart kickstarting in his chest, fear zapping into his limbs like an electric current.

He fell asleep, he realizes, and the terror of it claws its way up his throat like a slimy, rotten tangle of vines. He fell asleep and when he opens his eyes it'll be to find Steve floating under the ceiling again, to find Steve's mangled corpse on the bed, eyes sucked from their sockets, face twisted in an eternal, grotesque scream, it's too late and he fell asleep, he fucking fell asleep while- 

Steve is awake. 

Steve is awake and he's looking at him and he's alive and his hand is lying on top of Eddie’s. It's cold and there's a needle in it from the IV cord and he's ghastly pale against the sheets, but he's smiling softly and he's alive, he's alive and Eddie wants to scream, to cry, to kiss him and never stop, to hold him and never let go-

"Hey," Steve whispers. 

"Hey," Eddie croaks. "You look like shit, man."

"Aw," says Steve, and the corners of his mouth twitch and Eddie thought he'd never see his smile again and shitshitshit don't cry, Munson, don't cry. "Thought I was pulling it off real well." 

He jerks his head in the general direction of the cast on his right leg, the one on his left arm. Eddie thinks he'll hear the sound of the bones breaking in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Typical," is what he says. "Half dead and still worried about your looks." 

Steve hums a not-quite-laugh. His fingers caress the back of Eddie’s hand. 

"Is he …?" 

"Dead," Eddie blurts. "For real this time. It's over." 

"The kids?" Steve's fingers twitch.

"Fine," Eddie says, watches how Steve's entire form sags with relief. "Buckley and Wheeler, too. And everyone else. It's over." 

"I- good." Steve screws his eyes shut, gulps. Draws a shuddering breath. "That's good." 

Eddie watches how his shoulders start shaking. Following a sudden impulse, he flips his hand and tangles his hand with Steve's, careful not to upset the needle. Steve blinks down at their entwined fingers. 

Eddie forces himself to smile and rambles on before either of them can question the gesture. 

"El was so fucking metal, you should've seen her. Like, the way she obliterated that douchebag? Remind me to never get on that girl's bad side! Seriously, man, I don't think any of us would be here if she hadn't-" 

"Well, I don't think I would be here …" says Steve. "... if it hadn't been for you." 

Eddie’s words barrel to a stop. Steve’s fingers tighten against his, trace the callouses on his hands. Steve’s smile is small and soft, but his eyes are serious, trained stubbornly on the ugly pattern of his hospital gown. 

"I thought you hated Bon Jovi." 

Eddie huffs. "Fuck, yeah, I do. Forcing me to besmirch my Sweetheart's strings with that mainstream shit? You owe me big time, man. Better start thinking of ways to pay me back."

"Yeah?" Steve raises their tangled hands lightly. "How's this for a start?" 

And then, before Eddie can even wonder what he's about to do, he ducks his head and presses a kiss to his knuckles. His lips are soft and warm. 

Eddie blinks. Waits for the world to stop spinning. 

"For … a start?" he repeats dumbly. 

Steve's eyebrow quirks. 

"Dude, I'd like to do so much more, but I'm glad I managed to lift your hand, to be honest. We should also first talk about stuff, I guess." 

"Oh," Eddie says intelligently. "You mean … like that thing you wanted to tell me?" 

"Yeah, like tha- … that thing." Steve needs to interrupt himself for a huge yawn halfway through. Since one of his arms is in a cast and the other hand is refusing to let go of Eddie’s, it ends up open-mouthed and adorable. "Probably'll have to sleep some more b'fore that, though …"

"Sure thing," Eddie is out of his chair and fussing with the pillow before he realizes what he's doing. Steve's eyes are already drooping as he helps him settle down. "I'll … I'll be outside, tell the others you're-" 

"Eddie?" Steve's grip around his wrist is light as a feather, but he still stops like he's been tethered in place. When he turns, there's fear swimming in those pretty eyes. "Stay? I don't … I'd rather not be alone." 

Eddie is back in his chair before Steve can finish the sentence. 

"Can you…" Steve's eyes are slipping shut again and his words are slurred, so that Eddie must lean closer to catch them. "D’you think you can sing? So I can find my way back, if- … Your voice is like light."

Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know if there's anything he could possibly say to that. So he says nothing. Just swallows around the lump in his throat and takes Steve's hand and starts singing softly. 

By the time Steve's breath evens out and his fingers go limp, Eddie’s other hand has found its way into his hair. 

Eddie keeps singing for a long while.

For as long as he's here, Steve will always have someone to guide him back.

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles