#they do spurt out dust

[children-of-the-sun-au]

*on the floor groaning from a hot spear in their shoulder* this is not going to be good…

Louhou: Here let me…

Louhou: You constellations don’t…bleed right?

[nanaslutt]

minors and ageless blogs dni

thinking about jerking gojo off with an obscene amount of lube ^.^

the loud squelches echoing in his ears did very little to help him from blowing his load for the second time in five minutes. the cum and lube were all mixed together on his cock and your hands, which were furiously stroking his cock

both your hands were wrapped around his length while you jerked him off using a screwing, twisting motion that made his legs shake and jerk. each time your hand rubbed over his tip, fingers rubbing along his frenulum on the downstroke, his body jolted forward.

“it’s so wet, oh my god it’s so wet nggghhh-“gojo moaned helplessly, unable to process what to do with his hands as he went from gripping his hair, to the sheets, to your wrists, his unusually weak grip doing little to cease your strokes.

“it feels good huh? you want it tighter?” you ask, your voice so teasing and sultry, only adding to the intense ache gojo felt in his balls. gojo shook his head furiously, his hips unintentionally bucking up into your grip as he tried to excape the pleasure, “no, god- no i- i’m gonna cum if you do that.” gojo whined, his voice so breathy and broken.

his moans filled up the room, grunts and whines he was previously trying to hold back now spilling shamelessly into the open air against his wishes. ignoring his words, you squeezed your hands harder around his cock and put extra pressure on the downstroke when you rubbed your fist over his cock head.

he was leaking so much pre it was hard to tell weather or not he was cumming. his body was jolting and jerking around, his face permanently screwed in pleasure, the deep dusting over his cheeks that matched his flushed tip, it was all so beautiful.

“baby, baby- baby i said no, d-don’t do it tighter i’m gonna cum, baby i’m gonna cum-“ gojo cried, his voice breathy and high pitched as he did his best to try and warn you that he was dangerously close, closer than you thought he was. you were only able to moan in response when gojo released a long, loud whine of pleasure as his hot cum shot out of his cock.

the lube and his cum coated your hands and his cock, making them impossibly wetter. the mess had started to drip down gojo’s balls and between his thighs, making a mess on the bedsheets. gojo’s jaw fell open as his body was wracked with tremors, his eyes fluttered back in his head each time a streak of cum was released from his sensitive tip.

when gojo’s spurts got weaker, you brought your thump up to his tip and started rubbing against his frenulum, trying to coax more cum out of his ball. gojo released a yelp in response, his body curling in on itself as he sat up, using both hands to grip your own, stopping you from going any further.

“i-if you don’t stop, something else is going to come out.” gojo warned, breathing heavily, his eyes full of lust. “so let it.” you whispered, pressing your lips against his as you leaned forward against him, your body falling on top of his as the two of you crashed back against the sheets, your hand between your bodies, steady grip on his softening cock.

[ervotica]

milf!reader fucking coach!patrick because she wants her son to get accepted into his tennis program and they’re old friend who used to fuck in college but she despises him but she’ll do anything for her son👀

warnings; smut, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), cum eating, a smidge of foot stuff if you squint, hate sex, exes (ish) to lovers (ish)

a/n; your honor i need him actually

imagining him wolf-whistling at you when you seek him out on the courts, racket strapped over your shoulder, hand limply holding a basket of tennis balls as you watch him practice his serving, trying and failing not to ogle his entire body through his clothes.

a sweat soaked tank top, slick and transparent. the smell of musk and man and tennis. thick corded thighs dusted with dark hair as he moves fluidly, as though the racket is an extension of himself. a thick bulge in his shorts that, no matter how much you hate him, you want to have your mouth on.

he’s all fire and passion and heat, and you know from experience that trait rings true in all areas of his life.

“so, you’re a milf now,” he drawls, beckoning you closer with a tip of his chin. your mouth is dry, chest so hollow it feels like you’re about to crumble from the inside out.

you roll your eyes, hoping to look more confident than you feel, taking place on the other side of the net.

“and you’re still a prick. your point?”

“why are you here?” he presses, tossing the ball up and catching it with a skilled ease that has your stomach flipping.

“how do i guarantee my son a place in your tennis program?” the words feel heavy on your tongue, struggling not to curl your lips into a sneer at the sight of his smug expression.

“you think i’m a prick but you want me to teach your son?”

“i think you’re a prick but i know you’re good at tennis. and you’re a good teacher. and i want him to be good.” his brow quirks. at least you’re honest.

he discards the tennis ball behind him and crosses the distance between you, long legs coming up to step over the net.

“i can think of a few things.”

that’s how you find yourself at his place, legs slung over his shoulders. it’s wet and dirty, each rock of his hips squelching as he feeds you his cock into your needy cunt inch by inch.

“yeah, know this pussy missed me, baby,” he rasps, pinching at your twitching clit. his throat works around a thick swallow, lips parted in a groan when you clench your cunt round him, shifting your hips upward to allow him to sink further into the wet clutch of you.

“stop talking to my pussy, you freak,” you hiss, quickly silenced as he flattens his thumb over your swollen bud, rolling it in tight circles until you’re creaming round him, wailing with the sheer force of your orgasm

he lifts your ankle, turning his flushed face to mouth at the smooth skin there, huffing hot air against the sole of your foot that has you squirming.

there are some perks to fucking patrick zweig.

he knows every inch of your body, knows what makes you tick and which buttons to press to keep you babbling nonsensical filth beneath him. knows your pussy, knows how to fuck you until you cry.

you’re clinging to his shoulders, almost drawing blood as you dig your knuckles further into that skin, because you know him just as well. know that this gets him going, keeps him rutting into you with that fervour that - despite yourself, despite hating him - you’ve missed so desperately.

because despite hating patrick zweig, no one fucks you like he does.

when he cums it’s in excess, spurt after spurt of it until you’re plugged full and it’s flooding you, dripping out of your spasming hole and gathering over your furled asshole. he gathers some of it with two fingers, feeds it into your eager mouth.

“i’m sure we can work something out about those tennis lessons, sweets.” and he grins, all teeth. the look should have you balking, send you running, but you find yourself drawn to it, clinging to the familiarity of him.

you’re caught in his honey trap once again, and he has no plans of letting you get away this time.

because you both know, no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’s the best sex you’ve ever had.

and he’s sure he can make you love him. just with a little time.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud IX

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: After the preseason against Barcelona

Someone is watching you.

It's nothing you can prove, of course. It's nothing you really care that much about either.

You've just managed to draw against Barcelona in a preseason friendly. Of course there would be someone watching. A lot of someones actually but you don't find yourself minding too much as you head over to your parents.

They're on the far side of the pitch, waving to the very few Spanish Bayern fans that have come out to watch the team play.

You wiggle your way between them and Magda's arm automatically comes to rest on your shoulder. She angles her face towards you slightly, a smile on her face as she presses a quick kiss to your hairline.

Pernille takes your hand on the other side and you smile at her, leaning your head against her shoulder.

It feels good to demonstrate your skills.

In front of your new teammates. In front of your new manager. In front of Barcelona, to make them worry when you're on the pitch, to show them they aren't as bulletproof as the fans think they are.

But, right now, all you can do is smile as your sign things for the very few Bayern fans that have come over to watch your team play for them.

"You did very well today," Pernille says to you, squeezing your hand softly.

"Enough for a lamb?"

"You know the rules," Pernille replies with practiced exasperation," You'll have to really impress. Show me you can really care for one."

You huff, putting on a bit of a show.

This is a practiced dance between you and Pernille, a more playful back and forth now that you've moved to Germany. Pernille pretends that she's more opposed to getting a sweet lamb than she actually is and you pretend to be more annoyed than you actually are that you're being refused.

"Oh come on, Pernille!" Magda says from your other side," I really think she's deserved it!"

Magda's also apart of all this teasing. She backs you up, insists that you've already proven yourself despite having never had a pet in your life. The extent of your animal caring abilities is filling up the bird feeder in the garden.

Of course, you've also got that little binder you made a few years ago with how to take care of lambs and sheep and when to sheer them and what to feed them and how you can make them happy.

Pernille had made you make it after she realised you were serious about raising a lamb for yourself.

You update it every so often, just to show her that this isn't something that you've forgotten about.

Arms close around your waist and you shriek as you're lifted into the air.

You can hear Pernille and Magda laugh as you're hoisted up and you flail your legs around when you're airborne for too long.

"Frido!" You shriek," Let me down!"

Frido shakes you, using her height difference against you before unceremoniously dumping you onto the ground.

You roll onto your back, panting with a smile as you look up at her. "That was mean."

"What has the world come to?" She asks no one in particular," That an aunt can't pick up and shake her little niece anymore?"

"I'm not little."

She grins down at you. "I remember you before your growth spurt," She says," You'll always be my little niece."

Frido offers you a hand.

You take it and pull her down.

She shrieks at the sudden force of your pull and falls onto the grass next to you.

You laugh, letting Pernille help you up and dust the dirt off your shirt.

Frido does the same with her own clothes, flicking a stray piece of grass at you that you bat away easily.

"Good game," She says, ruffling your hair," You had us on our toes."

"Just..." You glance behind you, feeling that same prickly feeling of eyes on your back," Just wanted to impress."

"Well, you certainly did that." Frido leans closer, like she's about to tell you a secret. "But I don't think it's just on who you wanted to watch you."

She jerks her chin over your shoulder and you follow her gaze.

Alexia Putellas is by the bench, talking and gesturing wildly over at you to the new Barcelona manager. You don't quite remember his name but you know what he looks like and even from this far of a distance away, you know he's looking straight at you.

"Best hope Bayern put a big price on her release clause," Frido says to your mothers and you feel Magda freeze behind you.

Her mouth dry, she speaks. "What?"

"Just saying," Frido laughs," A performance like that? In preseason? At a club she's just moved to? You and I both know she's a talent. Alexia doesn't really enjoy talents like that outside of Barcelona."

Magda pulls your back against her front, arms hanging over your shoulders. "They can't have her. She's a minor. They need our permission."

"She'll be eighteen soon," Frido reminds Magda.

"Still. They can't force her to come. I won't let them. I just got her back."

"We just got her back," Pernille corrects.

"Besides," You laugh," Momma won't even let me get a lamb yet. I don't think she'll be too happy sending me off to Spain."

Frido laughs, ruffling your hair again. "I think you'll find Barcelona can be quite persuasive when they need to be. How else do you think we got Ewa with us?"

"Dumb luck?"

Frido gasps dramatically. "You know what, young lady? Come here!"

She reaches for you and you duck out of the way, sprinting across the pitch out of her reach.

"You're getting old!" You shout over your shoulder, ducking and weaving through players and staff alike. "Aren't you meant to be a professional athlete?"

You jump over a crate of drinks as Frido trips over them.

You laugh, leaving her in the dirt as another hand reaches for your own.

"Aren't you tired?" Ingrid asks you," You've just played ninety minutes."

You know Ingrid quite well considering you've never played on a team with her.

Pernille and Frido have introduced you two a lot over the years. She's nice to see, someone who is not family but just as nice as them.

"I'm never too tired to humiliate Frido," You answer, turning to look back as Pernille helps Frido up while Magda howls with laughter.

Ingrid rolls her eyes fondly at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Have you met Esmee before? I can't remember."

Either way, Ingrid introduces you to Esmee, who seems nice enough, if a little shy. You can imagine you and her getting on once you're both settled with each other.

"Of course, you know Mapi a bit and this is Aitana. Aitana, this is y/n. She's Magda and Pernille's daughter, Frido's niece."

"Daughter?" The look Aitana wears on her face is one you're always used to when regarding your parentage.

"Adopted," You confirm with a nod. It's always better to explain now than have to deal with the awkward questions as people try to tread around the minefield that's your family situation.

She nods once before speaking. "Do you want to swap shirts?"

"Oh! Er..." You glance behind you where your family is (thankfully) keeping their distance. Still within earshot but not enough to invite themselves into the conversation.

Both of your mothers stick their thumbs up at you.

"Yeah...okay, then."

Like you thought, you and Esmee do get on. You reckon that you wearing a Barcelona shirt (Aitana's Barcelona shirt, you think in the back of your mind) must have settled her a bit. Familiar people with the one unfamiliar one wearing a very familiar colours.

She's nice and speaks well and you almost forget about the prickling feeling of someone watching you until that someone is right behind you.

The little circle you've found yourself in opens up and Alexia Putellas slides into the now empty spot next to you.

Magda moves to approach as well but Pernille holds her back by the back of the shirt.

"Pernille-"

"Let her deal with it," Pernille says," However she wants to do it. We can't coddle her for her whole life."

Magda pouts. "We can try."

"Magda," Pernille continues," She's much more capable than you like to think."

You hope that your eyes aren't as wide in shock as you think they are. it would be embarrassing for Alexia Putellas to remember that expression as the one you wore when you first met her.

"You had a good game," She says to you and you feel your throat go dry.

You force words out anyway. "Th-Thank you."

"A great game, actually," Alexia continues," You're very talented."

"Thank you."

You feel like a broken record, incapable of saying nothing but the same thing over and over again.

"How long have you got on your Bayern contract?"

"Two-Two years."

"Two years? Not three? Or four? For someone of your talent..."

"Oh, er, well, it's meant to finish the same time as my mothers' do."

"Harder and Eriksson's kid, aren't you?"

"And Frido's niece," Ingrid puts in and Alexia nods.

"I thought so. She's never had anything but compliments for you. You used to play for Arsenal as well, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you joined Sweden for their Euro qualifiers as well. It's nice to see that young talent is being fostered so well."

You laugh a little awkwardly. "Oh, well, I'm not really anything special."

The look Alexia gives you makes it clear she thinks differently. She doesn't refute your claim though, just purses her lips in thought.

"Barcelona has always been good at noticing young talent and putting our faith in them."

"Oh?"

She smiles at you. "Just something to think about. Have you got the same managers as your mothers?"

You nod. "Yeah, Morsa...Er...Magda and I have the same person."

"Excellent." She claps a hand down onto your shoulder. "You should probably warn them about something coming their way soon after that performance today. I hope to see you on the pitch again soon."

With that, Alexia Putellas walks away, right back down the tunnels and you're left hopelessly looking back at her.

You turn back to the little group around you, a group that your family has finally joined again.

"Sorry...What just happened?"

Frido laughs, a casual arm flung over your shoulder.

"That was Alexia speak for 'Barcelona will be trying to buy you from Bayern soon'."

Magda swears. "For fuck's sake!"

[the-delusion-corner]

I need NEED you to share your thoughts on riding Megumi (　＾∀＾)

Let's talk about it yall

(OBVS NSFW, AND HEADCANON, DONT LIKE DONT READ 😋)

Getting this man to even agree to this while take a while. Such an act requires extreme trust and dedication to a person, to let yourself be in such a vulnerable and compromising position. So it took quite some time for Megumi to sit there and consent. But eventually he did.

He's so obviously nervous. I mean it's not that you guys haven't had sex before but he's never had you ride him?? Usually he's the one in control of the situation, but it's a little bit different when you're the one underneath.

The second you sink down onto him, his hands will find refuge on your waist or your hips. He'll have his head dipped down a bit, a dust of pink peppering his cheeks and tipping his nose, and he'll look up through his lashes with a slight wide eyed and lip parted expression.

He'll let you run the field for the time being, slender fingers holding both of your hips as you reassure him that it's fine and that he's gonna love it. The first few movements take him by slight surprise, it was for some reason different for him when he wasn't the one moving.

He's not very vocal but once you fall into a rhythm, not too fast but not too slow, he crumbles. The sound of your ass slapping against his firm thighs as you bounce up and down on his cock, your tits jiggling in delay with your body, and your head slightly upturned as your moans mingle with his own grunts and pants, oh it was so overwhelming.

He doesn't last long of just laying back, he'll sit up, large hands gripping your back as his chest pulls flush against yours. He'll hug you close, groaning and occasionally whimpering into your ear as your hands tussle his hair and scratch at his shoulders.

Megumi doesn't last long either. You won't have to do a major amount before his forehead is against your shoulder, his hands are tightening and pulling on your skin, and his whimpers are slightly more erratic and desperate, borderline needy!

If you're wearing a condom, he'll cum without even saying anything, he gets embarrassed about finishing too quick, but if you aren't practicing safe sex, which you should be but oh well, he'll tap your shoulder blade and look up, with a fluttering eye look, and a slightly bitten lip. He doesn't want to say the words.

You'll have to get off of him and give his cock the last tiny strokes before he will explode, strings of sticky white spurting out and landing on your hand and your chest, some dripping down onto his taut abdomen too.

If he hadn't made you come, he'll happily finish you off with his thumb, skillfully giving your clit some attention just to get you over that edge, until you come onto his hand.

He'll be panty and red in the face afterwards, his hair even more messy than how he'd started, and his tummy will be a mess of warm salty liquid. Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed having you ride him, however...

He much prefers when you're submissive to him, not the other way round.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Sleep is overrated for Xavier and can you feel how much I want you for Zayne if these haven't been requested yet please🫶🏽❤️

Hey anon! Sorry I'm getting to this kinda late, I was sick and just started to feel better. Normally I'd say limit one prompt per request but since I didn't get that many I'm writing both (and because I'm a sucker for these two).

“Sleep is overrated. I have better ideas.”

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

--------

Xavier:

It was a rare day off and Xavier was snuggled into you, your back pressed comfortably against his chest. You knew being a hunter drained him and that sleep was a luxury for him. However, you were just needy enough today that the sight of him getting ready to fall asleep was making you antsy. You turn in his arms, pushing your face up to his.

Blue eyes already heavy from a long's day work blink at you. "Are you ok?" His long fingers idly play with your hair, pushing it back behind your ears, a sleepy smile twisting his lips.

"Xav, are you planning on going to bed already?" You run your fingers down the front of his tshirt hoping to rouse him but he yawns loudly as the question is asked.

"I was. I'm sleepy."

“Sleep is overrated. I have better ideas.” You hold your breath waiting for his reaction and see a little twinkle in those captivating eyes.

"Better ideas? Like what?" Curious, he props himself up on his elbow to look at you.

"Oh you know...just...cute little ideas..." You boldly trace your fingers further down his chest, running bast his belly and suggestively give a light stroke at the front of his pajama pants. His sleepiness evaporates in an instant, every nerve in his body at attention.

"What are you doing angel?" he asks tentatively as you stroke him again, then reach out to cup him in your palm, feeling the softness morph under your touch.

"Isn't it obvious?" you tease then start pulling down the waistband of his underwear and pajamas at the same time. Pink dusts his cheeks but he allows you to do so, covered only by the blanket. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, his newly hardened cock now in your grip and pump him enticingly.

"Does that feel good?" you murmur sweetly in his ear, hot breath tickling him as he lets out a groan. Xavier manages to nod and you continue playing with him, stroke after long stroke of your small, soft, hand bringing him closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

His hips start to roll on their own accord, matching the pace of your hand as you bite and kiss his neck.

"Mhhmm...that's so good angel..." his voice pants, thick with desire as your dextrous fingers continue to pet him. Precum leaks from his tip and you gather them to further lubricate him, movements growing slick and fast. Heat gathers in his abdomen and he can't control the noises he makes, hoping for it to come to peak soon.

A low, gravelly moan escapes him as he orgasms, spurts of cum erupting from his tip and falling messily onto your hand, little spasms punctuating his pleasure at the base of his cock.

He gazes at you in adoration and you grin.

"Still sleepy?"

Zayne:

Your arms are wrapped around Zayne's neck as he kisses you, tongues mixing and lips desperately locked against the other's.

It hadn't been that long since you'd had sex but the two of you had a hard time keeping your hands off each other, growing clingier as the day had progressed. Zayne's intentions were made clear from the moment you stepped into the car, his broad hand caressing your thigh as the other remained on the steering wheel. Your bare bodies are flush against each other and you feel tight hardness pressing against your thigh.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” He rasps, grinding himself on the soft plushness of your legs, his head bowed against your collarbone. "You make me...so weak for you..."

His lips capture yours possessively as his fingers dip between your wet folds, gently stroking before inserting a thick finger into your leaking core, his thumb coming up to rub circles on your clit. Your lips part to let out a sigh of pleasure, struggling against his actions, the sweetness gathering in your pussy too good to describe.

Your nails tighten on his back , leaving marks, whining needily. "Zayne don't stop...that's perfect..."

"I have no intentions to stop if it's making my pretty girl feel good," he says in a smooth whisper and you bury your face into his shoulder as you cum, pussy spasming around his fingers in harmony with your clit. Colors fade in and out of your vision as you ride out the waves of pleasure before collapsing back onto the bed. Zayne licks his fingers clean before positioning and sheathing himself into your warm cunt.

Both of you hiss in pleasure as he bottoms out, stretching you deliciously. "Can you take it?" He asks as he starts to thrust.

You nod dizzily, your brain turning to mush as he strokes your inner walls.

"That's my good girl."

[barefoothighlander]

never going back again - 03

summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup

simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), mention of nudity, mention of food, simons a flirt

prev part masterlist next part

a/n: haven’t proofread this yet, sorry for any grammatical errors

It’s a loud banging that wakes you, echoing through the walls of the small cottage, shifting frames on the wall as it continues.

In a sleepy daze you remember how Simon had mentioned he was going to fix the shower, something about mould and needing to redo the tile, what you didn’t recall was him saying he’d start work promptly at 7am, effectively disrupting your peaceful slumber.

You trudge your way out of the bedroom, wrapping the blanket around your form for some warmth as you stand in the doorway to the bathroom, heavy eyes watching him.

It takes him no time at all to acknowledge your presence, probably due to whatever training he’d acquired over the years, he could notice a mosquito shift from 10 feet away, such keen eyes.

He turns to you, his dark clothes sprinkled with powdered remnants of tile, “Did I wake you?”

You smile weakly, “You know there’s no rush, can always start these things, I dunno, in the afternoon”

“Woke up early, wanted to get a head start”

“Head start, sure, yeah” You dig your palms into your eyes, trying to rub the sleep from them, he drops his tools, moving closer to you and gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists, tugging them from your face.

“How’d you sleep love?”

“You mean before you shook my entire house at the crack of dawn? Very well, you’re quite comfortable”

“Am I?”

You smile, shifting your arms to wrap around him, letting the blanket draped on you fall to the floor, he snakes a hand behind your head, tugging it against his chest as he lifts his mask slightly, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

“How long is this gonna take?”

“Shouldn’t be more than two days”

“You understand this is my only washroom”

“I know”

“And I use it”

“Mhm”

“Please don’t destroy it”

“Wouldn’t dream of it”

You peak your head around him, getting a full glance at the room, it’s a complete mess, tools and dust everywhere, fallen tiles scattering the floor.

“Oh my god”

He pulls back, following your line of sight, “It’s not that bad”

“Not that bad, Simon, be serious”

“You still have the bathtub”

You huff, your forehead falling into his chest, “Just, promise me you know what you’re doing”

He scrunches his face under his mask, “I know what I’m doing” Running his hands up your arms, lying.

“Okay, I’m trusting you”

“Go get some tea love, I’ll take a break soon”

You lift your head from him, gazing up at his masked face before turning around, picking up your fallen blanket and making your way to the kitchen, jolting at the sudden clanging from a wall away and silently praying he wouldn’t destroy your entire washroom.

It’s takes him a few hours before the banging stops, your hearing feeling like it was permanently damaged from the consistent noise as Simon emerges, completely covered in dust.

You bite back the smile that pulls on your lips as you watch him saunter in, reaching for a mug and pouring himself a cup of tea before dramatically huffing a breath while he sits down.

“Done yet?”

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head, “Done taking the old tile down”

“Seems like it took all your energy old man”

“Old man?”

You laugh lightly into your tea,

“Believe me love, I’ve got energy to spare” He smirks under his mask as you choke into your tea, drops of the liquid spurting from the mug as your cheeks flush.

You clear your throat, tilting your head lightly “Wanna use some of it to help me in the garden?”

“Give me five minutes”

You smile, standing from your chair and walking beside him, placing a hand to his shoulder and dragging it along the skin as you walk away.

It takes him more than 5 minutes to meet you, more interested in watching you move around the land whilst sipping his tea, the privacy granting him the opportunity to drink properly without the hindrance of his mask, he made a mental note to buy you proper tea considering the stuff you had tasted like wet dirt to him.

By the time he found you in the garden he had changed his clothes, opting for a more comfortable t-shirt and jeans, the man looked damn good, his arms flexing under the thin cloth that allowed you perfect sight of the ink on his arm.

“Must be hot with that mask on all the time”

“M’not gonna take it off” He groans, standing behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, he leans in to your ear “Yet”

You bite you lower lip as the thoughts flash through your mind, really you didn’t mean the words in a teasing way, more of an observation but now all you could think about was what he looked like. You knew his eyes were dark and his lips were full and pink, that his jaw was muscular and stubbled, from the few angles he granted you, you could tell he had scars on his face, specifically one that spanned his chin going down and another that cut through his left eyebrow.

It was enough, the small glimpses of him, the mystery intriguing but now there was a desire to know him under the mask, how he looked alongside who he was.

“Okay” You break yourself from your thought,la, pulling his arms from you and turning around, “I need you to help me plant these”

“Yes ma’am”

You hand him a small shovel, kneeling in the dirt, “So dig a small hole here, and then just put the pods in and cover them”

“Seems simple enough”

“So you won’t mess up?”

“I didn’t say that”

You smile, “Just do your best, need these to eat”

You watch him struggle to choose spots to dig, clearly overthinking his moves as he twists his body, reaching across the beds.

You shake your head, patting down the dirt in front of you at you settle one of the plants, untangling the vines and sitting back, wiping your hand across your forehead.

“Just plant it Si”

He whips his head to you, his eyes glued to your face in a panicked manner, it makes you uneasy,

“You okay?”

You slowly reach a hand down to rest on top of his, watching his reaction,

“Yeah fine” He shakes his head, “No one’s called me that in a long time, took me by surprise”

“Oh, m’sorry it just slipped out”

“No, I like it, sounds nice coming from you”

“Oh” You turn your gaze down, how did he always manage to make you so nervous, his hand meets your jaw, moving your gaze up to him as he holds you, his other thumb moving to swipe across your forehead.

“Got somethin”

He shows his palm, a smear of dirt on it as you realize, using your own hand to wipe it, you glance down at your body, stains of grass and soil covering you as you laugh.

“You’re filthy”

“You’re no better” You joke, gesturing to the clumps of spilt soil on his lap,

“Could probably use a shower”

“You think you’re so funny”

“Sometimes yeah”

You huff, grabbing a small handful of soil and tossing it at him, he closes his eyes for a moment, “Seriously”

You can’t fight the laughter that erupts from you, the dirt sticking to his sweat covered skin as he looks at you.

You yelp as he pounced on you, throwing your body back into the dirt as he hovers over your frame, his fingers tickling at your sides as you writhe under him.

“Say you’re sorry”

“Will not” You manage through laughs

His fingers poke at your skin, smearing the dirt from his arms onto your clothes in the process,

“Please, can’t breath”

He leans back with a smile, watching your heavy breaths raise your chest as your arms fall to the ground.

“Apologize”

“I’m-“

You’re sentence is cut short as you hear a car pull up, it’s door slamming shut, Simon jumps from you in full fight mode, extending an arm back to keep you guarded as a man exits the vehicle.

You squint your eyes at him, pushing Simons arm down gently as you recognize the person.

“William?”

“Hey doll”

Simon looks between you and the man, a sudden fire burning under his skin at the pet name, he stands back slightly as you approach him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Who’s this?”

You glance at Simon, giving him a small smile before turning back, “A friend”

The term feels like a punch to his chest.

“Pleasure” William extends a hand to Simon who neglects to shake it, eyeing the smaller man’s frame before turning back to you.

“What do you want”

“Came to drop something off, or someone rather”

He walks toward the car, opening the back door quickly as you watch a furry mass sprint toward you, gasping as you kneel down to meet it.

He licks your face as you scrunch it, running your hands over his fur, laughing as he prances around you before he catches Simons scent.

Simon watches the animal intently, studying it’s moves, as it approaches him quickly, jumping to his chest, licking his arms.

“He missed you, and I’m moving”

You tilt your head to him, “Moving?”

“Going to Spain, my mums sick”

“Will I’m so sorry”

“S’alright, just figured Riley needed a better place to stay”

“Yeah of course, thank you”

“We’ll I’ll get out of your hair, seems your busy, it was nice meeting you Simon”

Ghost is at a loss for words, he simply nods toward the man, his gaze focused on Riley.

“Seems he likes you”

“Where’d you get this dog” His tone is serious

“We adopted him when Will and I were together, he’s a retired-“

“Spec ops dog”

“Yeah? How’d you know”

“This is my dog”

“Simon what are you talking about?”

“I work in the military, that’s my job”

“And Riley was yours?”

“For a few years yeah, last they told me he’d retired in the states”

“They didn’t let you keep him?”

“Not protocol, I’m not home much”

“Home” The word triggers something in your mind, he’s not home, this isn’t his house, you’d been so caught up in being around him you’d completely forgot that he has a life outside yours.

Simons eyes crinkle as he plays with the dog, rough housing with him as they roll in the dirt, “We should get inside, looks like rain”

“Be in, in a minute love”

You walk slowly toward the house, resting your back against the front door and shutting your eyes, why hadn’t you thought about him leaving, there were people relying on him, it’s not like he could stay forever.

Even with the anxiety in your chest, your heart swells at the sight of Simon playing with Riley, even in the short time you’d known him, you’d never seen him this comfortable, he was so happy.

You glance at your arms, caked in dirt and sweat, deciding you needed to wash off. Stumbling over the mess of the washroom to turn on the bath, closing your eyes as you sink into the warm water.

Losing track of time in the water you notice your skin had grown wrinkled, scrubbing off the last bits of dirt and stepping out, wrapping a towel around your body and carefully navigating around the room.

Apparently during your alone time, Simon and Riley had moved their fun into the house, moving around the rooms together as they settled in.

You open the door, bumping directly into Simons chest, your nerves jumping as you collide. In a panic your towel falls,

“Sorry I didn’t see you” He struggles to get the last words out, his eyes roaming your naked form as you quickly move to cover yourself,

“Oh my god!” You reach for your towel but Riley runs over, grabbing it with his teeth and running away, “Riley! No, not a toy!”

Your cheeks flush with heat as you glance up, Simons eyes glued to you, your own eyes blown wide as you scurry away, slamming your bedroom door shut.

“Hey, wait” He follows you, leaning against your door as you drop your head to your hands on the other side.

“Please, go away”

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad”

“You saw my whole body”

“Lucky me”

“Simon” You laugh,

“It was bound to happen at some point”

“Well these are awful circumstances”

He moves the door open slightly, his eyes on your face as you hide behind the wood, face flush, he smiles, reaching to lift his mask slightly as he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss.

“You’re so beautiful”

You take a deep breath, smiling against his lips before shoving him back and closing the door. He sits down, back resting against the door as you shuffle around in your room, quickly throwing on clothes.

“I’m serious, the most perfect girl i’ve ever seen, honestly just can’t believe it took this long for you to get naked”

You open the door quickly, his body falling backwards onto the ground, wincing lightly as he laughs, his eyes opening to see you standing above him.

“You’re very cocky, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Actually yeah”

Shaking your head you step over him, making your way to the kitchen, Riley following closely behind you.

Simon appears in the door frame, watching you pull food from the fridge, tossing items into pots and onto the cutting board.

“You hungry?” Twisting your head over your shoulder,

“Starved”

He rests an arm above his head against the frame, watching you cook, his hand extended down to pet Riley, this was perfect, the life he never knew he wanted, he had you and his dog and goliath his own little family.

He gives you some space to work, settling on the couch while Riley rests at his feet, seemingly tired out from the day. He reaches for the small tray of electronics on the table, toying with his comms for a moment before piecing it together finally, clipping in the missing cord.

There’s a massive weight on his shoulders, he knows what he has to do, he has a team waiting on him, a family, less conventional yes, but a family none the less, the team were his brothers, he had to get in contact.

He grabs his comm, tucking it to his ear before moving into the bedroom, closing the door so you couldn’t hear.

“Bravo Delta, this is Ghost”

He waits a few minutes before repeating himself, double checking his channel, those few minutes make his heart sink lower, either no one was there and his team had forgotten him, or his comms really were destroyed, and he could stay with you.

“Ghost?”

“Captain, good to hear your voice”

“Christ Son, we thought you’d died”

“Not yet Sir, just a little misplaced”

“Send your coordinates, we’ll get you evac”

“Negative Sir, I’ve got hostiles in the city near”

“Can you get out? We need you on base”

“How much time can you give me?”

He hears Price take a deep breath, murmuring to someone else in the room, “Three days Simon, then I’m sending everyone I have to get you”

“Copy, see you in three days”

“Be careful”

The line goes dead, Simons worries surfacing, he had three days, he didn’t want to face the idea of leaving you let alone how you’d react when he told you, he’d finally gotten his family, he wouldn’t give it up this easy.

tag list: @pepsicolacoochie @coolbanana44 @konigsblog @lialacleaf @mli345 @gghoulzz @fuckface-6996

[reidrum]

good night moon | s.r

A/N: hi again ! this one is deeply self indulgent i fear but who cares i hope you like it as much as i do <3 ps let me know what kinda fics i should write next !!

cw: spencer reid x bau!reader, cm type violence, reader is afab but this only is referred to when mentioning reader is a daughter, sad thoughts, hurt/comfort, talks about nightmares, spencer just wants to take care you gdm it why won’t you let him

wc: 2.4k

_______________________________________________

trudging up the stairs of the bullpen, you tried your best to use whatever sense you had left to beeline to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. thank god the bau had minimal reflective surfaces because you’re sure you look like the evil old lady from snow white. that was just, your opinion of course. to everyone else you looked fine.

fine was so subjective. what did these fuckers know about being fine? they weren’t the ones on the mission. they don’t know what you saw, how you did nothing, how you couldn’t do anything.

“FBI hands up!” you yell holding your gun and flashlight at the unsub. he’s holding the victim at knifepoint, a twelve year old girl who reminded you too much of yourself.

this unsub’s MO was kidnapping eldest daughters of families that had sons as well, because he believed the son should be the eldest child with the most responsibility and that the daughters were only there to create more babies. the team had deduced that he was the youngest child to an older sister who he felt had too much control over him, combined with his fascination with the perfect nuclear family, it slowly turned him into a sociopathic killer.

“come any closer and i’ll slit her throat!” the unsub bellowed, getting dangerously close to her carotid artery.

“you don’t wanna do that, man,” derek says behind you, “just put the knife down and we can talk.”

“there’s nothing left to talk anymore! i’m already going to prison. there’s no point.”

you called out the unsub’s name, “i know how you’re feeling, i have a younger brother too and he feels the same way you do sometimes. what your sister did to you was not okay, but not all sisters are like that. we just want to care for our family. let them have the chance to be the big sister you wished for.”

the unsub seemed to contemplate your words for a minute, then looks up at you with eyes devoid of any light, “then this one is dedicated to you, agent.” and he drags the knife across her neck leaving waterfalls of blood coming out.

you’re not really sure what happened next. a gun went off, presumably derek’s, to kill the unsub. and then it was you screaming as you rushed to the young girl to try and stop her bleeding, but it was no use. the cut was deep enough to nick that damn carotid and all you could do was hold her in her last moments.

“te- tell my family i love them, and that i’m sorry.” the young girl spurts out so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“no sweet girl, don’t be sorry,” you say through hiccuped cries, “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

the last thing you remember was feeling strong hands carrying you out of the building. you couldn’t hear much, the sound of your wails pretty much masked anything in a five mile radius. you could taste the iron lingering in your mouth from biting your lip too hard and desperately collecting the salty tears and sweat trickling down your face. at first you smelled smoke and dust, most likely from being in the cave where the unsub was. but as you were being dragged away from the crime scene you were influxxed with a musky scent, and a hint of vanilla with that fresh laundry smell. spencer. the last thing you see are his worried little brown eyes staring down at you before everything goes dark.

that was monday. it is now thursday. the case had wrapped up, the unsub was dead the families were notified and now you all were in the office doing your paperwork for the case.

and all of you were doing fine, right? everyone else had already coped and processed the case, already stepping back into their normal life routines. but you, you couldn’t have it that easy, but god you wish you did.

since that day, you’d been holing up in your apartment with all the lights turned on. you sat in your living room, eating a bowl of fruit loops and watching bluey, because listen it’s a great show and we should acknowledge it. you cry out loud seeing bluey care for her little sister bingo, and it brings you back to that dusty cave and the bloodied hands.

you could feel sleep creeping up on you, yet you subconsciously found a way to push bedtime by doing menial tasks like cleaning, extra long skincare, watching a movie. when you ran out of things to do, you entered your room and just stared at your bed. how were you supposed to admit to yourself that the horror isn’t in the movie you just watched where the creepy demons kill everyone, but it’s what is waiting for you behind closed eyelids.

so the only logical solution was to just, not sleep. you whipped out every trick in the book to stay awake for as long as you could— energy drinks, coffee, splashing cold water, anything so you wouldn’t have to reface your plagued memories.

spencer observed you from a distance. he watched as you got coffee a whopping three times before 10am, you picking at your skin, not to mention the bags growing under your eyes. it was then he formed a hypothesis, he was a scientist after all. that you simply were not sleeping because of the case. it was much less a hypothesis and more of a fact because he knew exactly what it was upon first sight of you, hell he invented the sleep avoidance look.

and as the inventor it meant he knew the feeling more intimately than he would like to admit. spencer knew what it felt like to be debilitated by the confines of your brain, holding onto shreds of memories you know are not worth remembering but have somehow marked their territory anyway. and everyone coped differently, for spencer he isolated himself for days and then threw himself into work. for you? well, that was the next part of spencer’s experiment.

spencer approaches you in the kitchen as you’re pouring your fourth cup before noon, “hi.”

“hi.”

“how are you? feels like we haven’t talked in a bit.”

“i’m good, sorry i’ve just been. busy.”

spencer frowned internally, he knew you weren’t doing a single thing but working at the office. “are you okay? do you want to talk about last week?”

you cut him off abruptly and start walking out, “i really have to finish these reports spence, talk to you later.”

spencer knew better, he should give you space to cope by yourself. you were an adult, you can take care of yourself. but you shouldn’t have to, he thinks. spencer still tells himself he knows better as he’s waiting on your doorstep that night, about to the rapp the door.

after a minute of no answer he knocks again this time calling your name through the door, “will you let me in please? i want to show you something.”

still nothing. he continues, “i know what you’re feeling, and i want to help, please.”

he almost gives up and turns around when he hears the turn of a lock and slight creek of the door opening to see you in all your beautiful glory.

now you, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. avengers pj shorts with a baggy uni t shirt, hair flying in any direction, and a look that spencer could only describe as grief. but god if you weren’t the most beautiful human he’d seen in his life, he’d be lying.

you were coming up on day 3? or was it 4? of no sleep. it’s not like you were not sleeping at all you took little 30 minute naps each day, enough to get you some shut eye but not enough to make it your rem stage of sleep.

spencer speaks again, “can i come in?” you nod silently and open the door wider for him to step in. he removes his shoes and it’s then you notice a big ole tote bag he’s lugging to your living room.

“what’s in the bag?”

“ah, come sit. i brought magical things.” he smiles playfully.

you shuffle over to sit a seat’s cushion away from him and watch as he starts pulling item by item from his mary poppins bag.

candles, essential oils, books, but specifically romance novels with the silly cartoon covers that he swears aren’t real books but you argue with him until he concedes, melatonin gummies, pillow sleep spray, and one more item that he’s holding onto for what seems to be dramatic effect. you’re not amused.

“and the piece de resistance,” he presents the last item, and you look confused for a second, until you recognize the item in front of you and immediately start tearing up. in his hands is a grogu weighted stuffed animal that he holds out for you to take. “i know you’re not sleeping. it happened to me when, you know. i figured it would be helpful if you had someone who could empathize how you’re feeling. and because you’re my best friend and i care about you.”

your bottom lip trembles, and you feel the ice block you’ve kept yourself in this past week start to melt uncontrollably. “spence…” you breathe out so quietly. he did all this? for you? doctor spencer reid went out to the store, and bought a grogu stuffed animal for you to cuddle at night to ease your loneliness?

the concept of being taken care of was so foreign to you, as the eldest daughter in your family it was always you taking care of others and making sure everyone was okay. but rarely did anyone check on you, how you were holding up. and you had learned to cope by yourself, to handle the big emotions by yourself, but for once, someone was willing to take all that weight off your shoulders and let you breathe. and god, did it feel so cathartic you could burst out in sobs.

so you did.

“hey,” he says scooting closer to you so he can scoop you into his chest, “was that a lot? penelope said i’d probably overwhelm you but all of the things i brought are scientifically proven sleep additives-“

“no i just, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” you whimper.

spencer’s eyes soften, “you deserve it. what happened last week… was hard. i just wanted to help.”

“thank you,” he hears a muffled response and rubs his hands affectionately down your back, “damn, all this crying is making me so tired.”

“see! the magic of the poppins bag.” he chuckles. you laugh too. spencer thinks all the flowers in a mile radius just bloomed.

“it’s just,” you start out, nuzzling into his chest deeper, “the second i close my eyes and dream, i see her. and how i couldn’t save her. and how the others i couldn’t save either.” you feel your chest seizing up again.

“okay well hey, hey. you did what you were trained to do. any other agent in your position would’ve tried talking him down the way you did. and your personal story gave you an advantage that no one else would’ve had. statistically speaking, you were the best chance at getting through to him. yeah it didn’t work, but it wouldn’t be probability if it always worked,” he cradles your face in his big hands, “we’re all so proud of you, you know. rossi’s waiting for you to be back on your feet so he can host pasta night at his hou- sorry his mansion again.”

spencer looks down at you properly to your tear stained cheeks and brushes your hair back. he sees the pain and tiredness fighting behind your eyes and asks softly, “what do you need right now?”

“i’m tired.” you lament.

“then lets go sleep.”

“i can’t.”

“why not?”

“im scared.”

“well that’s why i brought the stuff silly goose,” he taps your nose, “come on, let’s go set it up.”

spencer brings all the sleep aids to your room and sets them up appropriately, even plugging in your sunrise lamp to help with the ambient lighting. the only thing left to do is for you to get into your bed.

you both stand on opposite sides of your bed, and he’s waiting for you to get in so can tuck you in. you hesitate and look up at him with the same worried eyes he saw all those days ago.

“could you stay for bit?”

“i can stay for some time if you want” you both speak at the same time. you giggle again, spencer thinks an angel got its wings.

thank god he wore sweats and a comfy t shirt he thinks. he slid in under the blanket and holds it open for you to come in, “come on, you’re missing the cuddle party with grogu and i!” you beam widely and finally sink into your bed.

spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder blade, and the other taking a spot on your hip rubbing soft circles. you lay your head to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. you try to let the metronomic thumps lull you to sleep, but spencer can still feel your eyelashes fluttering about on his chest. he knows what you’re thinking, because of course he does.

“look at me,” he nudges you, you look up at his eyes again and see nothing but pure love and reassurance as he continues, “you are safe. nothing can hurt you. i promise.”

“are you sure?” you let out meekly,

“i’m sure. it’s okay, go to sleep,” he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you shakily take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

after five minutes of spencer rubbing shapes into your back, he can finally hear the soft snores coming from below. he places another kiss on your head, whispers, “good night angel girl,” and doses off.

you wake up the next morning feeling so rested and relieved you can’t help but give spencer a big hug that wakes him up. spencer thinks he’d be the luckiest man in the universe if he could wake up like this everyday.

[diejager]

New Beginings

Pairing: dark!Krueger & König x doll!reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, possessive behaviour, smut, rough sex, manhandling, overstimulation, mean!Krueger, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.3k

Your new body was… odd. Once, you didn’t need substinence, you could live without eating, or drinking, or breathing, but you now needed food, water, sleep and air to continue on. You didn’t understand how humans could live with such restraint, a body so easily broken and weak when all you did was sit and collect dust until you were cleaned by your caretaker. It was difficult to live this way, it was such a stark difference to your usual life. You were a fragile thing, spending most of your days limp and tiredly laying on your nest of blanket and softness in the golden cage Kruegerbought you.

Krueger was a distant relative of your father, he might’ve shared your father’s blood and pride, but he was nothing, if not vastly different from him. Sebastian Krueger was a crude and brash man, voice low and arrogant while he manhandled you with cruel and careless hands, pushing and pulling you around his broad figure. Unlike your thin and artistic father, Krueger was a firm and strong man, skin scarred from past battles, some won and some lost, but it added to his terrifying image as much as his veil did. 

After your rebirth, he moved you to an elegant, golden cage where you would live the rest of your life, completely at his mercy. He knew you would depend on him for nourishment, for relief and for company, locked away in the shadow of his bedroom to stare and admire like someone would do to a dove —you were his dove, an angel who’s wings he clipped to keep. He kept to a strict routine, he woke you up with a rough shake, his calloused fingers sinking into your softer skin to pull you out, whether or not you were used to using and feeling your legs didn’t matter, whatever he said goes. 

He fed you three times a day with snacks spread across the day, stuffing you round with food despite your complaints about not being hungry anymore, unused to having an body that necessitated food to work. Then he’d sit you on his lap as he worked, his hand sliding down your waist to grip your hip, sometimes staying put while he signed papers, and others straying to your thighs, kneading your oversensitive fat until you squirm and whine. 

He mostly kept his hands to himself when he was busy working, his mind cued sharply into finishing his work for the day to lounge and relax, but he liked - insisted on - touching you whenever he could, rucking up the edge of your dress and cupping the uncomfortable heat of your mound, curling his fingers through your slit and thumb your throbbing clit. He seemed to enjoy your high mewls and writhing, back arched forward and grinding your ass into a hard and painful bulge in his pants. 

Often times, you’d end up splayed over his desk, your clothes ripped in half from the top and left hanging under you while he rammed into you, his low grunts and cruel degrading left you in a wet and cock dumb mess of whining and crying. The red and swollen head of his cock battering your cervix, wringing orgasm after orgasm from you until he had his fill, the tip spurting hot and heavy ropes of thick cum. When he was done, he sat you on his half-hard cock, the girth still wide enough to plug you without reaching for one, your tear-strained eyes blinking tiredly and head resting against his neck.

That was usually what he did: breakfast, work, fucking you, dinner, fucking you, relaxing, supper, relaxing and fucking you to sleep, rarely diverting from it if he could. Krueger was a creature of routines, familiarity and strict form, thriving off his military training to teach you how to walk and talk, building a rigid structure to teach you. He could be cruel with his words, rough with his hands and perverted with his eyes, but he was… loving in a sense, despite how mean he was, he cared for you and provided for you in your uselessness. 

But unlike Krueger, who was heartlessly taunting to you, his roommate - König - was gentle and careful with you, playing with you as if you were still the porcelain doll you used to be. König was the giant of the two, a tall and broad man who stood twice as tall and twice as big as you, a seemingly monster in his rights. His wide palms petting your mop of hair, thick fingers carding through the bothersome knots and dressing you up for the day. He was a second factor of your routine, if you weren’t with Krueger, you were with him. 

He wasn’t cruel like Krueger, dauntingly stern, yes, but he never degraded you and laughed when you teared up. He was surprisingly tender with you, handling you with a softness that reminded you of your late father, mumbling quietly to you and showering you in affection. König praised you and loved you in his own way, a sickening and possessive obsession, mumbling promises that he would protect you from all the world’s cruelty, but what about his roommate’s ruthlessness? He told you not to worry your pretty, little head about him, Krueger couldn’t be fixed, it was the effect of whatever he lived through in battle.

König might’ve been your favourite between the two for how he isn’t purposefully mean, he didn’t degrade you, he didn’t growl and hiss at you, and he didn’t break his word. But he was still your captor, a man with as much - if not more - needs and wants as Krueger, with how often he pawed at your shorts, pushing them down your thighs to rut his cock between the sweep of your ass, carving a space between your clefs. If he was feeling particularly merciful, he’d stretch you enough, a thick and long finger filling your tight cunt before another pushed in, drowning your pained mewls and pants with his scarred lips. He always made you come once or twice, stuffing three fingers in an effort to fit his monstrous size, his girth and length too much for you. Much to your dismay, he made it fit, it was hot and steely, ploughing through you like you were made to take it, your slick and his abundance of pre making his thrusts smooth and easy.

If he was feeling sadistic, he would spend hours preparing you, holding you against his chest by a firm grip on your throat, your ankles hooked under him as he took his time fingering you. He praised you, his deeper growl wonderfully soft while he pampered you with his unending insistence of wetting his sheets with your musk, for the smell of your cum and sweat to stick to his room. He held you down to thrust his fingers, the palm of his hand rubbing your swollen nub, landing sharp slaps on your wet thighs until you’re sobbing out in overstimulation, writhing and fighting him with every claw and hit. 

Only when you stared blankly ahead, drool rolling down your chin and limbs spasming, does he finally fuck you, bottoming out in a quick snap of his hips and pounding you into his bed. He moved you to his whims, sometimes face down and ass up, other times folded in, your legs swung over his shoulders and back curved almost uncomfortably. You’re lucky you were made flexible, seemingly outworldly with how easily König and Krueger bent you over every surface of the house and folded you in half to watch their cocks break you in and your cunt gape, oozing their thick and bitter cum.

You hoped you’d get used to the workings of your body soon, your shaking limbs and painful cramps hindering you in your attempts to flee, to spread your wings and escape your golden cage.

“We just wants what’s best for you, Rehkitz.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @rae-pottah @cassiecasluciluce

[4everhyucks]

— 01:29AM

cw. age gap, creampie.

jisung had been crushing on your since you both were kids. well, more like him being the kid, and you being a teenager. you’re 5 years older than him. if you think about it, it is kind of weird for a 12 year old to have a crush on a 17 year old.

the first time jisung laid his eyes on you, you were over at his house, on the couch of the living room, giggling with his older sister.

“is that your brother?” he heard you ask his sister. he found your voice so soft and sweet, the total opposite of his sister’s.

“yeah! sung come here and say hi,” she waved for jisung to walk over so you could take a better look at him.

it was love at first sight for jisung. you looked so different from the girls in his class. the way your hair falls when you brush them out of your face. the perfect smile you flashed at him when you introduced yourself, the soft pat on his head when you called him cute.

jisung thought his crush on you would be over after awhile, but it didn’t. he found himself wanting to be stuck around you 24/7 when you were over. when his sister held sleepovers, he always slept beside you, all cuddly on the king size bed with you slotted in between the two sibling. not that you minded, in your eyes, he’s just your best friend’s younger brother.

“sung get out! it’s supposed to be a girls night.”

you laughed, telling her it’s alright to have her younger brother in the room (again). jisung’s heart bloomed when you pulled him into your embrace, having him sat on top of your lap.

“you’ve gotta stop babying him all the time,” she rolled her eyes, glaring at jisung, “this is the last. time. you hear me?!”

when jisung reached the age of 16, he realised that it was no longer a simple crush. during his sister’s 21st birthday, their parents were out, which lead up to her throwing a house party. she allowed jisung to invite a couple of his friends over so he wouldn’t feel alone.

on that very day, jisung and his friends stayed in his room all night. he only saw you once, when you peeked into through the door of his room to say hi.

“fuck! i lost again,” jisung’s friend—jeno, cursed as he threw the controller on the ground lightly, “the game is fucking rigged.”

“i won jisung earlier so i’ll just say that you suck at the game,” haechan, another one of jisung’s friend chuckled, taking a gulp out of the giant coke bottle on the floor.

“whatever, i’m gonna go grab some snacks from the kitchen. y’all want anything?” jisung got up, dusting his pants.

“anything’s fine.”

“ice cream.”

as jisung turned around the end of the stairs, he was faced with your back leaning against the kitchen counter, with a guy chatting you up. jisung might be 16 but he’s not stupid. he saw the way the older guy eyed your body. jisung doesn’t know if he was being possessive over you or if he was just jealous, could be both. but he couldn’t do anything about it. he quickly rummaged through the fridge for ice cream. the sound of that might’ve been louder than the songs being played on the speaker, because you noticed his presence.

“ji!” you called out. he pretends not to hear you, with a tub of ice cream in his hand, he went back upstairs after shutting the door of the fridge with his foot.

“who’s he?” the guy in front of you questioned as he watched the kid disappear up the steps.

“birthday girl’s younger brother,” you answered.

jisung’s 18 when his body went through his second growth spurt. many girls fawn over him. he had grown much taller than before, his features are more defined now, and his muscles are super obvious too. not that you realised, you’re practically with him the entire time his body went through changes.

for some reason his sex hormones are shooting out the roof after turning 18. jisung had spent plenty of nights jerking off to dirty thoughts of you, to the point where he doesn’t know if he’s capable of holding himself back anymore. he’s not even slightly interested in the girls that practically throws themselves at him.

through multiple years of having a one sided crush on his older sister’s friend, he no longer knows what to do about it.

currently jisung is in his room, playing computer games with his friends.

“left! on the left!” jisung flinches when he hears haechan’s loud screams through his headset.

“fucking hell.” jeno utters, spamming the keys.

all three of them groan when the screen announces their loss. before jisung could say something about their last play, his door swings open as you walk into his room, flopping down on his bed. jisung takes his headset off, leaving it on the table.

“i’m bored ji,” you lay down on your side to face him when he turns his gaming chair to face you, “your sister went grocery shopping with her boyfriend.”

he hums, “why didn’t you tag along?” he doesn’t even care about his sister or her boyfriend, whatever it is, not when you’re on his bed with the tightest tank top and the shortest shorts he’s seen in his entire life. you’re not even wearing a bra. thats how comfortable you are with him. he bets you don’t even see him as a man.

“don’t wanna be a thirdwheel,” you sigh, but it came out sounding like a soft moan. jisung’s body tenses up seeing you flip over on his bed, your ass on display for him to gawk at. no way in hell you’re this naive he thought to himself.

he can feel himself getting harder underneath his sweats. “y-y/n, i just remembered that i have something important to work on, and i kind of need my privacy.. to focus.” jisung didn’t sound convincing at all, you quickly got up and sat on his lap, which causes jisung to bite on his bottom lip. it has become a normal thing for you to sit on jisung’s lap. the first time consisted of you telling him it was normal since he always sat on your lap when he was a child. you didn’t take it weirdly when you were sat comfortably on his lap.

“what’s so important?” you turn the chair to face his pc.

jisung grunts when you shift your ass closer to his crotch. he didn’t mean to stare down at your ass but, as a man, he couldn’t control himself. his heart starts to beat faster and he can feel his boner sticking uncomfortably on his sweats.

“ji is your phone in your pocket or something?” you ask, hands moving behind to grab his phone but you pull back when you realise that it’s something else.

“shit- sorry,” you quickly got up from his lap, excusing yourself, wondering why he had a hard on, “i think your sister might be back soon so i’ll wait for her downstairs.” you try to not sound too nervous, because why in the world would you be nervous and flustered?

your hands are already turning the doorknob, but before you could step out of him room, jisung slams the door shut. his tall figure hovering behind you, your back facing him.

“noona, i- i need you.” he admits as he grinds his cock against your ass, hands gripping your hips so tightly.

you gasp at the feeling of him rubbing his hard length on your core through your underwear. “fuck- ji.. we- we can’t do this, it’s w-wrong.”

“just once.. wanna feel you, please.”

you feel jisung’s hot breath hitting your neck, moments later he’s sucking and licking on your shoulders, nape, up to your ear.

you know you shouldn’t. you know. but you can’t help it. you know you’ll never be able to see your best friend without feeling guilty anymore, for wanting to fuck her younger brother. the little boy that you took care of all these years, grew up to be so.. alluring.

you whimper when jisung pushes your panties to the side, “wait ji- you’re gonna regret—”

he cuts you off, “no. wanted you for so long, wanted to fuck you since forever, wanted you all to myself, but of course you’d never see me that way, not back then, not now, and probably not ever. i’ll always be a little brother in your eyes. isn’t that right? i’m going to fuck you now, i’m going to make sure you’ll never forget it.. forget this. shit— never forget me, gonna ruin you for all the other guys out there, you’re mine. you’re mine noona, you hear me?”

his words are so intoxicating, so dirty, you wonder where he learnt how to talk like that. your breath gets slammed out of your lungs when he plunges into you, hard.

“fuck! ji!” you slap your palm over your mouth, trying your best to contain your noises. afraid of your best friend coming back early, and hearing your back being blown out by her younger brother.

“let me hear you noona.. let me hear how good im making you feel.”

to be honest, it’s impossible to not make a sound, not with the way he’s fucking into you. so good, so fucking good.

“pussy made for me, you’re made for me.. aren’t you?”

you nod, “y-yes.. yours, only yours ji.”

“shit- taking me in so well, fucking love you.”

jisung feels the way your walls flutter around him, “close?”

you nod again.

“cum for me.”

and you did.

so did jisung, painting your walls white.

you shiver, feeling full and warm.

—

“we’re home!!” your best friend announces when she walks through the front door with her boyfriend behind her, “y’all having that bonding time or something?” she says, noticing you and jisung by the counter.

“yeah.” you smile at her, thighs twitching as you sense jisung’s cum leaking out of your hole.

thankful that he allowed you to put on your underwear at the very least.

—

bonus

“holy shit. he really fucked her.” haechan chuckles in shock.

“didn’t know he had it in him,” jeno says, jaw dropping.

“i think i’m hard.”

“you think?” jeno laughs light heartedly, switching his tab to incognito mode.

[satrs]

ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ!

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ saw that one edit on tiktok the other day and man... I just have to do this (idk abt the wordcount I just wrote this with my kitty and yeah, This happened)

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; needy guys and their dom gf!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; ISAGI YOICHI. ITOSHI RIN. NAGI SEISHIRO. SHIDOU RYUSEI. dom!fem!reader.

TAGS; subby guysss. dirty talk. thighjob. overstim. nicknames(mommy, baby, good boy, bad boy, whore, brat). bondage. cumming in pants. dry humping.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+(proplayers)!

ISAGI YOICHI.

He was in a fit of complete bliss and tantalizing pleasure, hips stuttering with every stroke through your plush thighs. "I wanna' cum. Pleasepleaseplease let me cum."

You looked up at his vulnerable form, his cheeks dusted in a pink cloud of blush and his hair all over the place, mouth agape with his tongue pocking at his lips. "Please."

Your hand reached up to caress his cheek, cooing at the man above you. "I'm not holding you, go ahead." He let out a sigh in relief, his hips beginning to stutter and falling out of rhythm, head falling forward. "But if you do," His head snapped to your face in shock once you sneaked your hand around his neck to pull him to your level, "I'll ride you until you pass out."

He yelped, so close to his release, trying to contain himself with his eyes shut, biting his lip. "Good job. Just a little more and you'll get to cum." You clenched your thighs around his sensitive cock, robbing another cry of pleasure from him.

A meal flew past his lips at your words because he knew that was a lie. Your teasing smirk was only proof of that.

ITOSHI RIN.

"Say it." His ego was still having the upper hand, way too prideful to submit to you. "You think it's smart to act like a brat now?" Your clothed cunt grinding against his painfully hard cock as he tries his best to not fall into your sinful antics.

"Well, if you're acting all petty, then you won't mind if we stop right here, right?" This made his eyes widen once you slowly retreaded away from him and a low mewl escape his lips, his tongue clicking in defeat as he swallowed his pride, whispering in a low voice. "Please, make me cum."

"That's more like it." The sinister grin on your face showed no good, your hips back on his as you grind more firmly on him, the friction the both of you receive from it pulling moans and groans from you.

"Fuck." Rin's head fell back, nearing his release. "Let me cum inside. Please." The grin on our face only grew, your movements increasing as you felt his cock twitching through the fabric of clothes. "Nuh, uh. Only good boys get to have what they ask for." you leaned down, lips attacking his neck as you let your fangs graze his skin, "But bad boys like you just take what they get."

Your movements increased, pressure on his cock growing as he panted heavily, your clothed cunt rubbing against him so deliciously that he can't help but cum into his pants with a loud cry, embarrassment soon washing over him.

"Now what boy do you think you are, Rinnie?"

NAGI SEISHIRO.

"Shhh, Sei'. I thought you’d stay quiet? How come you're still so vocal?" Your teasing voice went straight to his dick, aching length twitching in your hold as you tightened your fist right under his tip, capturing the leaking pre with your thumb. "Did you lie to me?"

His eyes snapped open, moans interrupting him from speaking properly. "N-no! You're just- fuckkk teasing." You grinned as you popped his tip into your mouth, tongue twirling around it. "I'm teasing you? You're so mean. I just want to help, and you repay me like this?"

He shook his head in disapproval, moans growing in volume as your movements increased, the other hand fondling his balls. "I-I'm so-sorry. No more, please, don't wanna' cum yet."

"Look! You even got requests now." you mocked him, chuckling as his dick twitched in your hold, first spurts of his cum already leaking from his tip. "You'll take what I fucking give you,"

He unraveled underneath you, moaning mess as you continued stroking his dick, his cum now serving as a lubricant. "Do you understand?"

His thighs shook in overstimulation as he threw his head back, the thought of sleep now fully leaving his mind as he frantically nodded as an answer.

SHIDOU RYUSEI.

His cock twitched alive once you got on his lap, tying up his hands above his head, bottom lip captured between his lip once you aline his angry tip to your entrance, mind spinning once your walls hugged his entire length.

" I can't take it anymore, I need to touch you, baby." You ignored him struggling with the restraints around his wrist, tied to the bed, his hips stuttering up into yours at your torturous slow speed.

You had to bite back a laugh at the young man's pleas, changing your slow bouncing to steady grinding, humming in pleasure at the feeling of his mushroom tip nudging your cervix. "Liar." Your hand harshly took his chin in hand, your rough movements causing a shameless moan to leave his lips, brows wrinkling in pleasure.

His whine was answer enough for you, your hand sneaking down to clasp around his neck. "You love this. Don't lie to me. You love it when I treat you like the bitch in heat you are." Oh, yes, he did.

He loved it. He loved it all. From the way your tender fingers roughly grabbed him by the throat, to the way you would milk him dry until he didn't know what's right and wrong anymore.

"Already too fucked out to answer me, Ryu'?" This snapped him back into reality, eyes appearing from behind his sockets again, panting as sweat formed on his forehead from the way your hips moved on top of him just right.

"Y-yes, love it- fuck! Love it when you're rough with me."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[clawsdevour]

want to know all of you

wc: 1.9k content warning: hinted established relationship, smut, insecure reader x hoshiumi, creampie, oral w!receiving, not proofread

ㅤ۫ㅤ⠀⠀ ◌ 𓈒

“..Do you really want to do this?” huffing through Hoshiumi’s heavy pants that lingered trickles of hot air in the crook of your neck.

His wet sloppy kisses remaining on the surface of your skin, reflecting in the moonlight illuminating through the curtains. His murky light eyes gazing at you in desire, cheeks dusted with a slight pink hue.

His heavy body hovering just slightly above you, your hands wrapped his thick and toned neck. Swallowing hard, you nod sheepishly. You’ve been dating Hoshiumi Korai for a while, his cute gestures of love always wow you in a way you felt like you needed to reward him at certain times. Sometimes you found yourself wanting more than just a frisky make out session, but you’ve never fiddled around with him like this before.

“Of course I do if it’s with you, Korai” pulling him away from your neck for just a second, exchanging a deep sensible glance to show you meant what you said. Completely breathless, his timid vulnerable self showing up on his face as he subtly bit down on his lower lip from excitement.

Nuzzling his nose back into your warm neck, you feel him mouth the words, ‘I love you so much,’ before sucking on your skin, leaving behind his bright red mark. His lips continue smooching your ticklish neck, gradually moving lower to your defined collarbone. The foreign sensation on your bare heated skin due to his tongue made you squirm under his touch.

“You smell so good babe,” pressing the tip of his nose onto you, half lidded light eyes peering up to sneak a quick glance at your flustered facial expressions to savor the moment.

A hand worked its way up under your thin tank top, pulling the hem of the fabric up with it. Shuddering at the cool air combined with his hot palms that rubbed against the sides of your torso to calm you. The feeling of embarrassment started to creep up the further his hands dragged your top up, exposing your bright pink bra that you wore before heading over to his house.

“Oh- ignore this.. I kinda just threw it on,” you spurted out, trying to cover your bra that his eyes couldn’t take off. 

“Ignore what? I think it looks cute on you..!” Hoshiumi intimately said full of genuineness, his hands just slightly above yours. 

Accepting his true words, your back is just slightly a few inches above the mattress. His fingers helping you unhook the back of your bra, thoughts full of negativity imagining what he’d think about your body. You slowly drop your undergarment, showing him the valley of your breasts. Rosy nipples freshly perked up from being released.

His eyes slightly widened as this was the first time seeing you without anything covering the chest he loves to dive head first into so much. Groping a breast in one hand, fiddling with your tiny but hard nub that sent waves of stimulating pleasure. Your other nipple being caressed by his hot and wet tongue that latched itself onto you the moment he saw it. Flicking the organ till it’s at its full hardness, sparking further arousal that made you rub your thighs together under him. 

His mouth moved further down like before. His slow and sensual marks were scorching hot and sloppy this time, as if he was branding the surface of your skin with his slightly swollen lips. The more he lowered himself on your body, the more ticklish it got as you tried to suppress your moans.

“You can moan.. Makes me know how good I make you feel” fixing his eyes on you once more when realizing why you were so discrete. Having your hands clasped over your mouth, you nod, inching them away from your face and onto the bed sheets.

Carrying on, Hoshiumi lifts himself up from your heat emitting body for a moment. Taking off his shirt, you see his muscular figure flicker around in the ambient light as he shuffled in front of you. Watching him gather by your legs, Hoshiumi’s trailing off your shorts by the sides of your waist band, lifting your legs to help him.

Left in nothing but your mismatched panties, you can’t help but feel a bit more humiliated than you were earlier. Not to mention, him still being clothed as he stripped you down article by article of clothing. The last thing to take off was your slightly damp panties. Sliding them off of you, you shut your legs tight together to try and not reveal your bare cunt.

“Do you need a break babe?” Hoshiumi questions in concern seeing how you’re suddenly reacting.

“No.. it’s just, a bit embarrassing to be seen naked. Especially since it’s our first time doing it together.. Y’know?” Mumbling under your low breath with your head lowered, trying to avoid contact.

Hoshiumi completely understands where you’re coming from. You both know that this’ll be the first time you guys will do it, but it won’t be the last. 

“I know what you mean.. But, really.. I think you’re the most gorgeous girl I ever laid my eyes on. I want to know all of you, inside and out..” Hoshiumi reassures you with confidence.

“Me too,” groaning whilst getting up from laying on your back, you give him a tight snuggly hug before you gradually took him down with you. 

Arms around his bare shoulders, skin on skin, before letting go followed by a gentle kiss you placed on his slightly puffy lips. Creating distance between your bodies, his hands leisurely start to spread your legs apart without your resistance despite you still being shy. 

Getting on his stomach, staring straight at your already wet pussy. His thumb brushing over your sensitive organ caused you to flinch. His hands grip onto the indentations of your hips before you felt a warm and sluggishly wet peculiar feeling on your clit that makes you subtly gasp. 

Hoshiumi’s eating you out, starting off at a consistently slow pace that has you spiraling the longer he took. Your body’s jolting up with every stroke made by the tip of his tongue as his hands forcibly kept your hips spread and tied down to the bed. His lips placed a few pecks here and there on your inner thighs whenever you started twitching uncontrollably. 

The noises you let out kept him going, not to mention, something growing. With the amount of arousal pooling in the pits of your stomach, the buildup had your breathing all raggedy and inconsistent the more he licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen clit. 

“Wait! I might.. Cum!” you said in between moans, tugging at his short white hair. 

Picking up the pace till you reached your climax, he’s going all out and slurping up all your juices until you came on his tongue. Unleashing your fluids that he drank up, you needed a moment to recover as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

His figure towered over you as you laid. Hoshiumi began to take off his shorts, then his boxers, revealing to you his cock that you’ve thought about since day one. It stood tall in all its glory, a bit of precum leaking from his mushroom tip. 

Before he spoke a word, he was also terribly out of breath to say anything. Fighting for air to access his lungs, a bit too delighted from the pent up erectness, he purred otherwise.

“Are you ready?” he tried to whisper, stroking his cock, base to tip.

Gulping down through inconsistent breaths, you nodded into your pillow.

“Yeah.. I think so,” watching him through the slope of your chest that heaved up and down with each puff you took.

Lining himself up through your folds, the tip of his cock sinking its way through. Fingers wrapped around the back of your knees, his soft kisses making contact with your tender muscles. The size of his girth felt as if it were splitting you open, the feeling starting to show on your face the more he buried himself into you.

“It’s all in. How do you feel?” trying his best not to move as much.

“S’good.. And full” placing your hand on the bottom of your stomach, trying to figure out where his cock went inside you.

Your pussy’s clamping onto him like no tomorrow trying to mold itself to the size of his girth, almost sucking onto him bone dry. Expanding the inside of your sopping cunt that cried out in pleasure, allowing you time to adjust before moving. Hoshiumi’s mind is going crazy with your plush walls pulsating around him.

“..Can I move?” a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead trying to suppress the overwhelming stimulation. 

“Go slow,” allowing him your permission to move, he does so. 

Moving at a turtle’s pace, he pulls back to reveal the glistening sheen later of fluids on his cock just to be shoved right back in. Yelping after the first thrust, holding onto his toned arms as he continued. When your cunt started getting the hang of his consistency, it drooled for more action.

The delicious friction and heat increasing between you two not only drove you two mad, but also aroused more sparks. The insecurity you had dissolved away the more his cock plunged into you. The stimulating pleasure that just so continuously grazes over your bundle of nerves has you moaning for more.

Your stomach fluttered and contracted against his cock that throbbed inside your walls. The sounds started to become inaudible the more you groaned and mumbled the words out of your mind, relieving your pent up sexual desires you’ve been dreaming about run loose. 

The more Hoshiumi picked up the pace, the louder the skin on skin slapping became and mixed in with the moist and squelching noises that increased between your sobs. His gruntings soon became praises, telling you how good you take him, how proud he is of you, and how good you feel inside.

Digging deeper within each thrust, he inches closer towards the nether regions of your stomach. Creating further stimulations, you feel a subtle build up that could be released at any time the more he plunged his cock into you.

At this point, his tip is burning a hot fiery pulse that you could feel throb while he marks your pretty cunt with his imprints. Nearing his release before you, he still continued to satisfy you before he could satisfy himself. Your moans were music to his ears urging him to continue. The visuals of your breasts bouncing up and down with each thrust, he just couldn’t bare with it for any longer.

“Feel so good babe, might just cum inside..” he smickered playfully, seeing your tired expression widen in surprise when his cock twitched.

“Cum in-! Inside me!” feeling that rope tug and snap, you came right before he was about to. Creaming all over his cock, rimming the base of his dick with a milky white froth. 

Totally out of it, until you felt a warm liquid gush into your quivering plush walls. Filling you up with his milky fluids that trickled out of your gaping hole that cried for more. Pulling out, as if taking out a plug that gushed out his essence that mixed with yours.

“You look beautiful like this..” eying the scene of his cum flow out of you.

masterlist here

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

A/N: And here I am, once again. With another one-shot. Well... not a one-shot. This is chapter one of a series with Logan. More on that later.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: none

Summary: After a failed mission, Logan unexpectedly brings home an injured mutant.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story includes mentions of abuse.

Words: 5300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

Logan’s mission was a failure, a trap. He was glad he got away before he could end up in a cage, locked forever. It was supposed to be easy. An in-and-out mission with a mutant child. Fuck no. He was met with a bunch of soldiers, ready to kill him. And, there was no child. He quickly learned that it was a set-up. The child that Charles had found got moved away from that facility. 

On his way back to the school, he found a place to get a drink. The moon was up in the sky, illuminating the night world. The air got colder. He still had a long road home. One little detour to a bar wouldn’t hurt anybody, right? A drink would lift his spirits.

He parked a stolen motorbike in front of a dive bar. Drink or two to get his mindset straight, and then he would head back to the school. 

The place smelled like a hellhole - urine, spilt alcohol and cigars. It was a perfect place to hide a corpse. By the smell, he wondered if there wasn’t a rotten body under the floor. He sat at the bar, ordered a beer and minded his business. He could hear everything with his enhanced hearing - even a pin drop. 

Whistles came from behind his back when he was on his second beer. That could only mean one thing - a woman entered this hellhole. Probably a hooker, he thought. 

“Hey baby, are you lost?” he heard someone’s sleazy voice. 

“Now that’s what I call entertainment for tonight!” another man shouted. Some even made howling sounds. 

Logan gently turned his head to the side, ready to see an old hag or a trashy whore. What he found was a young woman approaching the bar. She had torn old clothes on her, covered in dirt and dust. He wouldn’t stare at her if it weren’t for the bruises and scratches on her face and hands. He frowned. What the fuck happened to her? 

She took a seat two seats to his left side. The corner of his eyes captured three scumbags approaching her as if she was their prey. Logan gripped his beer bottle tighter, his knuckles becoming white. 

“Baby, let’s have some fun,” one guy touched the woman’s shoulder, making her face them. 

“Leave me alone,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. 

“Come on, sugar, don’t be a prude,” another man touched her cheeks, mapping the wounds on her face. “Somebody had their turn. Now, we want to have some fun. Huh?” 

It was Logan’s cue to step in. He was fast enough to take the man’s hand off the woman. He gripped it tightly with his, twisting it. “Leave her alone, dipshit. I’m not gonna say it twice.” 

“Get your paw off me, dude,” the man growled. He couldn’t get away from Logan’s hold. His friends got his back, ready to beat Logan’s ass. “And leave before the we will teach you a lesson.”

The woman’s breathing sped up, distressed from everything that was happening. “Stop, please,” she said to all of them. But she was cornered at the bar by one of the guys. There was nowhere to escape.

Logan smiled at the bastards. “I’d like to see you try.” 

His adamantium claws slid out and penetrated the man’s skin on his arm, almost cutting off the limb. He screamed from the pain, blood spurting everywhere. Then was kicked in the gut. 

One of the men grabbed the woman’s shoulder, pushing her to him. A knife appeared under her throat. He wanted to get away with her. “No, please,” she gasped as she felt the man’s other hand wrapped around her torso, holding her against her will. She was tired, beaten and ready to give up. 

“Shh, darlin’, it’ll be over soon. We’ll have some fun. Be a good girl and come with me.” 

Logan’s eyes found the woman visibly disgusted and afraid. As he was about to finish the second guy, the woman pushed the bastard off her. 

“No,” she screamed. And with that painful sound, some force escaped her body, knocking down everyone around her, even Logan. He flew through the bar and smashed into a wall like the rest of the people. Glasses and bottles shattered around the place. 

Logan grunted, surprised by what happened. Slowly, he got on his feet. His eyes found the woman again, standing at the same spot, alone. Her body was shaking. It seemed she was on the verge of crying. 

Grunting, he stood up and walked to her. She pressed herself against the bar. “No, please.”

“Don’t worry,” his voice was softer than before. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kid.” 

She took a step back, shaking her head. She didn’t believe a word he said. No wonder. 

Fuck this night! Then and there, he knew he had to take her with him. At least he wouldn’t come empty-handed. 

“We are the same,” he tried again, slowly reaching for her. “I can take you to a safe place. There are people like us who can help you.” 

His eyes scanned the woman’s face. He knew only two options could have happened: A) She got beaten up by her significant other. B) She escaped some sick fuckers who experimented on her. 

People around were getting on their feet, shaking off the dizziness. They were processing what happened. Some of them were able to put two and two together - mutants.

“Come before they try to kill us both,” Logan tried her again. “Take my hand. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“Fucking mutants!” someone shouted. “Kill them! Kill them both!”

This time, the woman didn’t hesitate and grabbed Logan’s hand. What choice did she have? He led her out of the bar before the first gunshots started. He got to his bike and sat on it. “Quick, hop behind me.” 

At least seven men ran out of the bar with shotguns and pistols, shooting at them. One of the bullets hit Logan’s shoulder. He snarled from the pain. He started the bike before more shots could get to him or the woman. 

When he felt her body against his back, he started the engine. “Hold me tight,” he shouted at her. 

The woman grabbed him by the waist, gripping him tightly. The gunshots weren’t stopping. A few of them swished near their heads. Her heart beat fast. She gave her life to some stranger. The last time that happened, they tortured her. 

One of her hands let go of the man’s and turned her weak body to the side. One more time, the power escaped her hand, and she protected them from the bullets that kept flying around. Again, a veil of some energy surrounded them. Under the moonlight, it seemed silvery and light blue.  Bullets got absorbed into the shield. 

It lasted only a few seconds, and then the energy disappeared. The shooting stopped. Logan got them far away from that hellhole. Now, it was just the two of them on the bike driving away. 

“You okay?” he asked, shouting through the wind. 

He then felt her other arm sneak around his waist to hold onto him. The rest of her body leaned against his back. He heard a deep exhale and a soft “yeah”. 

He couldn’t believe anything that happened today - first, a failed mission that almost got him captured. Now, a woman on his bike, whom he saved from pervs. Plot twist - she was a mutant with an ability he had never seen before. 

And he didn’t know her name. 

Logan registered that her body got heavier, and the grip on his waist loosened. “Shit,” he cursed and slowed down, bringing the vehicle to a stop. He moved fast, doing his best to capture her body before she could fall. 

“Hey,” he shook her a little as he took her into his arms. “Come on, kid, I need you to come back and look at me.”

Unknowingly, he brushed her cheek with his thick fingers. Damn, she was pretty. That’s when she opened her eyes slowly, staring into his. “I’m sorry,” was all she said. 

“That’s okay, kid. Can you hold on a little longer? We are two and a half hours away from a safe place.” 

She took a deep breath. “Please, just kill me and don’t make me suffer.” 

Logan frowned. He got an answer he wondered. Option B was the correct one. “What? No, not happening, bub. I won’t harm ya. I promise you that.”

“I’ve heard that before.” 

“I get it, kid. I get you have no reason to believe me. Just this once, trust me.” 

He helped her to her feet, holding her tight in case she’d lost balance. Her eyes found his. Tears were sparkling inside of them. “Okay,” she whispered. 

“Good girl,” he praised her gently and helped her get on the bike behind him. “If you need anything, tell me and I’ll stop. Keep your eyes open.”

I should have stolen a car, he thought. But at least they were on their way to Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. 

They entered the school’s estate. From afar, they could see the lights coming from the building. The woman exhaled, and her hands again lost their grip. This time, she fell from the bike onto the hard ground. It was so quick that he didn’t have time to notice she was slipping off him. “Shit!” Logan cursed and brought the bike to a halt, jumping off it. 

He ran to the woman, kneeling next to her. First, he checked her up, just to be sure she wasn’t dead. “Hey, hey,” he tapped her face, trying to wake her. Nothing happened. His fingers managed to find a pulse. Fortunately, it was there. “Storm! Charles!” he shouted from the top of his lungs. “Anyone!” 

Logan grabbed her body, holding her under the knees and back. He started to walk to the school. One of her arms was hanging in the air. 

The main entrance door opened. Several people ran outside. Storm was the first one out, followed by Beast and Bobby. They were all dressed in sleep outfits. Their sleep was interrupted by the unexpected turn of events. It was two in the morning. 

“Holy shit,” Bobby commented when he noticed the woman in Logan’s arms. 

“Oh my god! What happened?” Storm questioned. 

Together, they walked inside the mansion and headed to the lower grounds where they had their infirmary. It was hard to be silent. When they walked inside, Logan put the woman on an examination table. 

“Damn,” Scott commented. 

Jean was already there, prepping the tools. When she approached the woman, she gasped. “What the hell happened to her?” Storm helped as much as she could. Hank approached the table as well.

Logan was visibly pissed. His chest was heaving, and he wanted to punch a wall. “Where the fuck is Charles?” he asked loudly. “Fucking mission, fucking night!” 

“Who did this to her?” Storm asked, her hands gently brushing the woman’s bruised face. It played with colours, spreading from one side to the other. Her fingers brushed against the scratches. “What’s her name?” 

Logan huffed. “Don’t know. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity to chit-chat when scumbags were shooting at us,” he explained to them. “All I know is she’s a mutant. She protected our asses. That’s why I brought her here.” 

“Vitals are stable. There is no internal bleeding.” Jean informed them once she checked the first data that she got. “Hm,” a sound escaped her throat. “We need to scan her body to see if she has anything broken.”

“Logan had to get a child, and he comes back with a woman,” Scott commented not so silently. 

“Scott,” Ororo glared at him. “He saved her life.” 

“You’re such a dick, Summers,” Logan frowned at him. 

“It’s good you brought her here, Logan,” Hank joined the conversation. 

“She was about to become a toy for some fuckers who can’t keep their dick in their pants,” Logan said. “And then she showed me what’s in her. I’ve seen a lot of shit throughout my life. Honestly, I’ve never seen this kind of mutation.”

“What did she do?” Hank asked. Everyone wanted to know more. 

The Wolverine grunted and shook his head. “Dunno how to describe it. Some force got out of her that threw us all away from her. It was powerful, it stung like a bitch. It looked like a veil of energy. When she used it again, it absorbed all the bullets fired at us.” 

“Flyrokinesis?” Jean questioned. 

“It’s a possibility,” Hank nodded. “But I’d need to see it. Or it could be Flyrogenesis.” 

“Or both,” Jean added.

“Defensive mutations are rare,” Storm chimed in. “It’s been decades since we got any information about a mutant like this.”

“Until we know more, we can only speculate,” Hank ended the discussion. 

“Let’s give her some rest,” Jean turned to the screens. “She’ll be out for a while, and we all need to rest. We’ll know more tomorrow.” 

They left the infirmary one by one and headed back to their rooms. The last two people who remained were Storm and Logan. Both of them stayed by the unconscious woman. “I cannot believe someone did this to her,” she said. 

“I think she escaped some lab,” said Logan. “When she was conscious, she didn’t believe I wanted to take her to a safe place. She wanted me to kill her.”

“It’s a good thing you brought her here, Logan,” Storm patted his shoulder. 

Logan’s eyes kept travelling around the woman’s face, taking in her hair and their colour. “For now, we can only guess what happened. But, fuck, she looked like she escaped hell.” 

. . .

White light, so bright it hurt her eyes. It was painful to open her eyes. She slowly got used to it by rapid blinking. The white turned into silver, then steel-blue, until the first outlines appeared. Her ears registered a steady beeping sound. Where the hell was she? What happened? What was this palace? Panic started to rise inside her chest. Her body started to shiver.

There was a man who promised to take her to a safe place. How could she trust a stranger?

Fuck, it was hard to breathe. The beeping sound fastened. She ended up locked somewhere. Again. It was another lab - she was sure of it. 

A woman’s face appeared above her. She had short white hair and a smile on her face. Weird. “It’s okay, you are safe,” were the first words she heard. “Calm your breathing. You are in distress.”

“W-what-”

“You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you here,” the woman had a soothing voice. 

“W-where am I?” she whispered with fear. Her whole body was shaking. Tears threatened to escape her eyes.

“You are in a school for mutants,” she explained. 

“School?” 

“Yes, school. It is not a lab or some kind of crazy facility. We have children here who are like us, special.” 

A school for mutants, she repeated inside her head. New emotion came to her face - confusion. “I don’t understand. W-who are you?” 

“My name is Ororo Munroe,” she introduced herself. “But they also call me Storm.” 

She tilted her head to the side. “Storm?” 

“I have weather-manipulating abilities,” she said with a smile. “What’s your name?” 

 She took a deep breath. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N,” she introduced herself, eyes never leaving Ororo’s dark ones. Y/N sat up carefully. 

It had to be a lab. There were monitors and displays with data. Her eyes lowered to her hands, and she saw an IV on top of her hand. Y/N realised her hands were not tied up. Was Storm telling the truth? 

“How are you feeling, Y/N? Do you need anything?” 

“Uh,” she tried to find the right words. “I’m tired, my whole body hurts, and I am confused.” 

“Give it a moment. It will all click together. I can promise you that,” said Storm. 

The door to the infirmary opened. An older man wheeled in on a modified wheelchair. Y/N’s eyes followed his every move. He was bald but dressed in a fancy suit. He had a gentle smile on his lips. 

“Y/N,” he said her name. 

She frowned, not expecting anyone to know her. It was alarming. “How do you know my name?” 

“Y/N, this is Professor Charles Xavier. He’s like us, a mutant. He has an all-powerful brain thanks to his telepathic powers,” Storm introduced the man to her. “He’s the headmaster of the school.” 

He approached the woman, gently touching her hand. “I am so sorry for your suffering, but please know you are safe here.” 

“Don’t…” she raised her hand. “Please, don’t read my mind.” 

“I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t want to pry. It’s just that your thoughts were screaming so loud, it was impossible not to hear them,” Charles explained to her. “I will not talk about it. It is up to you to share your story.” 

Her shoulders dropped, and she relaxed. “Thank you.” 

“Now, let me tell you about this place,” he wheeled a bit farther away from her, observing the room as if he were there for the first time. “In this school, we not only teach children and help them learn their mutations, but we also accept fugitives and help them learn.” 

She tilted her head, wincing in pain. “Are you offering me a place to stay?” her voice was softer than before. 

“That is if you want to,” Charles nodded. 

It came as a shock. Tears appeared in her eyes. “I don’t have to run anymore?” she asked timidly.

“No, Y/N,” he smiled. “You are safe here, with us.” Charles wheeled back to the door, obviously pleased. “Welcome to the X-Mansion. If you need anything, come see me in my office.” And then he was gone. 

Y/N turned her head to Ororo, wiping off the tears that gathered in her eyes. It was all surreal. “I was expecting many things to happen, but not this.” And then, “Wait, but I have nothing. No money, no clothes. I can’t afford to stay here. I can’t give you anything.” 

Ororo stopped her. “Don’t worry about it. First, you need to get better. You still have bruises and wounds around your body that need to heal.”

Y/N’s hands shot up to her face, fingers grazing over scratches. Then, under her fingertips, she felt a bruise under her eye that hurt a little. Her eyes were looking for a mirror or a reflection. She needed to see the damage. Her mind wandered into her memories, looking back at what happened. For now, it was all a mush. Everything that had happened overlapped. She pressed fingers to her temple, massaging them. 

“You okay?” Ororo’s hand appeared on her shoulder. 

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, just a mild headache.” 

Half an hour later, she met more people - Dr. Jean Grey, who ran more tests on her. She X-rayed Y/N’s entire body just to be sure there was nothing broken. Later, she did a scan to see if there was any indication that would capture Y/N’s mutant power. 

When Y/N met Hank, she got scared. She never saw a mutant who looked like that - a blue ball of fur and monster claws. No, he was not a monster. He looked like a beast. “I’m sorry,” she quickly apologised. 

Hank was with Jean, looking at scans they made together. “Do you see that?” he asked, his thick blue finger pointing at the blue hue floating inside her body. “Have you seen anything like that before?” 

“No,” she said. “But it’s nothing, to be honest. It barely showed in the scan. It might not even mean anything.” 

“Or it can be everything,” Hank looked at Jean. “But I agree, so far we have nothing. She’ll be healthy in no time. But, we need to know what she can do.” 

After the tests, Ororo brought her a bathrobe and took her upstairs. It was a perfect time to walk around the mansion. All the kids were in their classes or outside, and no one was around. 

Y/N’s eyes wandered around the place. She couldn’t take in how massive the institute was. It carried the history and memories of so many people. Overall, in one word, this place was magnificent. “This is amazing,” she whispered. 

Ororo’s hands held her shoulder as they walked to the highest floor in the mansion. She opened one of the many doors. They belonged to a bedroom. “Is this yours?” Y/N asked. 

“No,” Storm closed the door. “This will be your room, Y/N. You have a bathroom here,” she pointed at the door beside the bed. “And a closet.”

“I thought that this was your room. It’s too nice.” 

Storm laughed. “I have my room on a different level. Here’s how it works: The students share bedrooms. The youngest are in groups of three to four. The older two to three. Adults like privacy, so they have a room for themselves.” 

Y/N nodded, understanding what she was saying. “Thank you.” 

After Storm gave Y/N instructions, she was left alone in the bedroom. She had to sit down on a bed to take it all in. They gave her a bed, hot water, and so much more. It seemed surreal. What if this was all a dream? She sat in silence, waiting for someone to wake her up with torture.

Five minutes passed, then ten and fifteen. Nothing happened. Maybe it was real. Y/N pinched herself, and it hurt. It is real. She went into the bathroom and took a shower. Everything was there - towels, soaps, shampoos. 

Surreal. 

Clothes were resting on her bed when she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in fluffy towels. There were jeans, socks, underwear, bras, t-shirts, sweaters, hell even shoes. There were only a few pieces from each item. Y/N pressed her fingers to her temples. She wanted to cry. How is it possible that her life turned upside down in less than a day? 

Once fully dressed, she opened the door and peeked into the hallway. No one was present. She walked outside, clean and fresh, ready to explore the place more. Her walk was careful and slow. Her fingertips touched everything she could reach - the wooden walls, the statues and the paintings. Her eyes were travelling around the place, taking it all in. 

What was fascinating was the portraits of Oscar Wilde, Jane Austen and other novelists. It brought her memories of when she would read books in her bedroom.

“You alright, kid?” 

That voice was familiar. It made Y/N turn her eyes to see a well-built man with unusual facial hair. She couldn’t deny he was handsome. She had to blink a few times. This man was the guy who got her here. As she observed him, the white tank top with a black flannel shirt over it, she tilted her head to the side. Damn.

“Yeah,” she said. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he took a few steps closer to her. 

“You are the guy who brought me here,” she pointed a finger at him but quickly retracted it. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “I remember so little from that day.” 

“Well, tough night.”

There was a flash of memory from that night. His face, looking down at her, lips moving and saying something that she couldn’t quite comprehend. “Sorry for ruining your evening.” 

He chuckled. “You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” 

She opened her mouth but then closed it. She didn’t know what to say. The man talked instead. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“Y/N,” she introduced herself.

“Logan.”

“Logan,” she whispered his name. “Nice to meet you. And thank you for saving my ass.”

He only nodded. “I should get goin’. I have a class to teach,” he said. 

She crossed her arms akimbo. “You teach? Here? In this school?” 

“What, is it that hard to believe?” he chuckled. 

“Actually, yeah. You don’t look like the guy who wants to teach kids,” she commented. “What do you teach?” 

“History and combat training.” 

Y/N opened her mouth but then made a face, perplexed. “Combat training?” Why would they teach combat training in a school? And then it hit her, to defend themselves if necessary. 

Logan walked past her, heading to the stairs. “I guess I’ll see you around.” 

She gave him a simple nod, and then he was gone. Y/N’s eyes had trouble pulling away from the spot she saw him. This Logan guy was a handsome man with a rough exterior. 

She continued walking through the long hallway until she found another set of stairs that she took to a lower level. She must have been walking like this for another thirty minutes until she came down to the entrance hallway. This place was indeed huge. 

She kept turning, trying to figure out which way to go next. A school bell started to ring. Another lesson was over. The doors opened, and kids of all ages walked out. There were so many of them. And they were all happy. They weren’t lying. This building was filled with them - from the youngest kids to teenagers. 

A paper plane flew before her eyes, steadily floating in the air. A boy used his ability to make them fly. Magical. 

Her eyes captured Storm walking with another man, chatting. It was probably another teacher. Y/N decided to wait for Storm and ask about the place some more until someone shouted: “Watch out!” 

Y/N spun on her heel. Her breath got lost when she found a fireball heading straight to her. Her hands immediately went up in the air. To protect herself, a veil of blue hue covered her whole being. It was a forcefield, and it absorbed the fireball. Y/N could feel the energy in her palms.

Why would anyone throw a fireball? That scared the shit out of her. The veil disappeared once the danger was gone, and her hands fell to her body. She took a few deep breaths. Her eyes caught a boy staring at her with big eyes. Was it him who did it? Impressive. 

“Did you see that?” 

“Who is she?” 

“What kind of power is that?” 

The students saw it all. They whispered about it while staring right at her. There were many of them looking and talking. The voices rang in her head. Just calm down, Y/N, she told herself. They are just kids. 

Storm’s eyes were wide and sparkling with excitement. She was fast enough to run to her. “Forcefield,” she exclaimed. 

Y/N twisted and turned on the spot, looking at everyone. All eyes were on her. It made her feel vulnerable. Her eyes caught Logan standing at the stairs, observing. She couldn’t read his face. 

“Everyone back to your classes,” Logan ordered the students. 

“Amazing,” Storm commented. “We were wondering what your power was.” 

Y/N’s eyes widen. She’d never heard someone say that to her. Creep! A woman’s voice screamed inside her head. Murderer! Psychotic bitch! She wrapped her hands around herself, taking a step back. It all came back again. 

“Hey, hey,” Storm put her hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to hide here. We are all the same. The students were surprised by your ability.” 

Come to my office, Y/N, she heard in her head. She spun on her heel to look around, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“I think I heard the… the Professor,” she said.

“He’s in his office. That way,” Storm turned Y/N to the right side. There was a hallway leading to a big wooden door. 

Y/N managed to catch Logan’s eyes looking at her before he left. He was something else - that’s how she could describe it. 

Hesitantly, she walked over to the door, ready to knock, when she heard the Professor telling her to come in. As said, she opened the door and walked inside. She was met with the older bald man, still wearing fancy clothes. 

“Take a seat.” 

Y/N sat on a brown leather armchair. The place smelled like wood and books. There were lots of them. The armchair was comfortable. Her back was straight, and her body was stiff, always ready to run if necessary. 

“I would like to know more about your mutation,” he wheeled closer to her. 

“What do you want to know?” 

He smiled. “Anything you’d like to share with me. I know I can look, but I don’t want to pry.” When he saw the distrustful look, he chose different words. “The more we know about your power, the better we can train you. We can give you more information about your mutation.”

“How can I know you won’t use it against me?” 

Charles nodded. “You don’t. We will need to build the trust together.” 

“Before I answer you,” she took a deep breath. There were some questions, and she needed answers. “What exactly do you do here?” 

The man sighed. “What you see is true - this is a school. There was an idea it would become a mixed school for mutants and humans. That never came to life. Now, it is a safe place for mutant kids, disapproved by the regular society. I find children around the States, and we bring them here - if they want to. Occasionally, we give adults a place to stay, like we did for you.” 

It was sincere. Charles wasn’t lying. She could feel it. “This ability showed when I was around 15. I know that it can protect me when I am in danger. I can sense the energy in my hands when I let it out. I can’t protect another person if you are wondering.”

“But…” he goaded. 

“I killed with this burst of energy. I hurt people with it. I believe you saw it, didn’t you?” 

Charles nodded. “Yes, I did. You can create a protective force field that keeps you out of danger. For example, what happened minutes ago, the fireball one of the students accidentally threw at you.”

She frowned at him, not liking what he was saying. “Then why did I kill with it?”

“There is an explanation to it. From what I saw-” 

“When I asked you not to look,” she cut his speech. 

“I apologise, Y/N. It is not my intention to hurt you or be nosy. As I already told you, your thoughts and memories were screaming, mixing inside your head. The door was open, and I only peeked in.” 

She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. “You saw it all?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “But enough to have a picture. As I said, it is your story to tell, Y/N.” 

“What you saw?” 

“The day you used your power for the first time.”

It was a moment, a three-second glimpse into her past, but she was back in her child's room, messing with her then-boyfriend. And then, they were arguing when it happened. The force that escaped her body killed the boy and destroyed half the house she once lived in. 

“If we want to know more, we must see what you can do. Flyrokinesis is the ability to create and manipulate force fields. It is mostly defensive. However, there can be some offensive moves done with it. This mutation is exceptional.” 

She cocked a brow, not sold on it. 

“We can help you learn and work with your ability. That is if you want.” 

No one is forcing you to stay, Y/N. The choice is up to you. His voice was in her head again. 

No more running, no more experiments or killing. Y/N could choose her life. Out of everything that had happened in her life, this, so far, seemed like the best thing that could have happened to her. Fucking trust issues. 

“We have everything you need and more,” Charles wasn’t using his telekinesis. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” There was a smile playing on his lips. “No more running.”

“No more running,” she repeated. 

[silassinclair]

Let me Take Care of You

Yandere Boxer x Injured Reader

Summary: It’s always been you taking care of Viktor and the other fighters. After all you’re the gym’s doctor! It’s your job. But what happens when it’s the other way around and you’re the one with the injury this time?

CW// Injuries, Blood, Personal Space Invaded

Masterlist Here!!

The gym was packed with fighters training for the upcoming fight this weekend. This weekend Viktor was going to be fighting a German fighter named Iron Klaus; the famous Iron Claw of Berlin. One punch from him and the opponent will be out like a light. So Viktor has been training especially hard in dodging and weaving for the past month.

While everyone was focused on training you decided to clean up a little bit around the clinic. The last doctor who worked here had no organizational skills whatsoever and it peeved you. So why not use the spare time to tidy up a little?

The top cabinet was pretty dusty. The dust was pretty annoying too because the fighters with a dust allergy would always be sneezing whenever they came in. Wetting one of the paper towels you look for something to stand on so you can reach the cabinet. There’s no stools or four legged chairs, only your swivel chair.

“This idea a terrible idea.” You think to yourself. But you have to get rid of that dust for the sake of your patients. So you wheel the chair over and put a foot on it. The wheels immediately feel like they want to slide out from under you. But you ignore it. You stand to your full height with both feet on the chair and begin dusting off the cabinet top.

But suddenly one of the six plastic wheels burst off the chair, throwing you completely off balance and sending you falling to the hard tile floor.

“AH-!” You scream and hit your head on the counter then fall to the floor with a loud thud. Groaning in pain you massage your tail bone. But then something gets in your eye. Something wet.

Tapping your forehead you flinch with a hiss when you accidentally touch an open wound.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” You mutter repeatedly and rush to grab a mirror. Shuffling through the junk drawer of your desk you find a compact mirror and flip it open. And to your horror you see that the top right of your forehead as a long bleeding cut. Luckily it isn’t too deep but without proper care it could scar.

“Great…”

Getting some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad you spurt some onto the pad. But just as you’re about to dab it onto the cut the door slams open causing you to drop the wet pad.

“Can you knock-?! Viktor?” You calm down when you see it’s just Viktor. If it were Alexi you would have thrown the alcohol bottle at him.

“I need some ice..” His words fall off his tongue and his eyes widen when he finally looks at you. Viktor takes large hurriedly steps towards you immediately.

“What happened kroshechnyy!?” He asks worriedly. “You’re bleeding so much. It may scar your simpatichnyy (pretty) face.”

You roll your eyes. “It looks worse than it feels. It’s alright. I was just about to disinfect before you came barging in. And don’t slam my door open anymore, you’ll break it.”

Viktor just grunts and takes you by the arm and pretty much forces you to sit on the bed. “I will help you.” He says and looks through your cabinets and drawers for supplies. He gets some hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, gauze, and medical tape.

“You really don’t have to do that, go back to training Viktor. Don’t waste your time with me.” You say earnestly. He needs to spend his time training, not taking care of you. It was your own fault for getting into this mess anyways.

With all the supplies in hand Viktor turns to you with a shake of his head. “Any second spent with you is a second well spent, not wasted. So let me take care of you.”

And he wasn’t asking. He goes to work immediately and dabs some of the hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball and dabs it onto your forehead. When you wince in pain he shushes you calmly like a baby. Cooing and reassuring you that everything is going to be okay.

“Shh shh kroshechnyy, it will only hurt a bit.” He whispers and cleans the wound. The bleeding has stopped now.

His eyes are calm and focused as all his attention is on you. Helping you, taking care of you, loving you. It feels so domestic cleaning your wound. It makes him feel like the two of you are lovers. He gently lays a square of thin gauze over the cut and tapes it down with some of the medical tape.

“Sorry if the job is… sloppy. I am not used to attending wounds.” He mutters with disappointment in himself.

But you reassure him with a light smile. “Hey it’s a better job than what I would’ve done with just a compact mirror. I appreciate it, thank you.”

Viktor nods softly, he turns away from your gaze as pink blush dusts his pale cheeks.

You sit still for a moment. The sting of the cut is slowly fading away thanks to Viktor’s first aid. But then you remember why Viktor came into the office in the first place; you retrieve a bag of ice from the mini fridge.

“Here. Thank you again for helping me.” You say and hand him the bag.

Viktor nods with a small grunt and accepts the bag.

“So what’s the ice for?” You ask. “Did you get hurt?”

Viktor nods. “Olēg hit me pretty hard in the ribs. Old bald bastard still packs a mean punch.”

You chuckle. “Well it’s good practice for you against your upcoming match with that German guy. Anyway, you can rest here while you use that ice.”

Viktor smiles slightly. “You’ll let me rest here? Usually you always try to shoot me away kroshechnyy.”

Well he had a point. It annoyed you when Viktor would come in here on the daily and just watch you while you worked. But for the past few weeks he hasn’t visited due to his rigorous training regiment. Deep down you missed his calm presence and his awkward attempts at making small talk. So what if you missed him a little bit? He was the only decent company here. All the other fighters have no manners.

“This time is an exception, think of it as a thank you for patching me up this time.” You say whilst organizing some drawers.

You feel warmth press up from behind and turn your head slightly to the side. Viktor’s gotten up from the bed and came up behind you, pinning you to the desk with a hand on the hardwood on either side. His front is right against your back and you can feel his warm breath on the side of your cheek. He leant his face down lower; his lips just barely graze the shell of your ear.

“Viktor what did I say about personal space-”

“Sorry, I can’t help myself. I just really miss you.” He says with a low hum. His voice is rich and deep like honey, but also dark and dangerous like the night.

Shivers shoot up your spine. What was he trying to pull? “Viktor I said I wanted to take it slow with the whole becoming friends again thing…”

His hand slams down on the desk making you jump with a yelp.

“Well I’m getting impatient.” The growl in his voice makes your blood run cold.

“O-Okay okay j-just calm down for a sec.” You say wobbly. The feeling of his nose on the top of your head makes your train of thought stall. He inhales your scent slowly, reminiscing in the nostalgic smell of your lavender shampoo.

“Just let me hold you close… please. Think of it as your gift to me for patching you up.”

You nod your head in understanding. Viktor is a damaged man. He’s touch starved, affection starved, and had a rough up bringing. If he wanted some semblance of comfort from you then you’ll happily give it. Even if it’s awkward and slightly uncomfortable for yourself. But hey, maybe the uncomfortable feeling will go away soon once you two re-bond overtime.

“It’s alright.” You whisper and pat his back. “I’m here now… Just don’t fuck up again okay? Or I really won’t forgive you ever again.”

He hums lowly. “I’ll never. Never again.”

His arms wrap around you into a warm embrace. And you welcome the embrace. His exterior is cold but his arms are warm. You can’t help but put your arms around him in return.

The two of you bask in a couple minutes of calm silence. But shouts from outside the clinic yelling for Viktor can be heard. Said blonde grumbles in annoyance as he lets go of you, much to his distaste.

“Be more careful next time kroshechnyy. And take care of yourself.” He says while petting your hair. You bag his hand off your head with a grunt.

“Okay okay personal space breaking time is over. Now get out there and train.” You say and push him towards the door.

He rolls his eyes and opens the door. But before leaving he turns quickly to kiss your cheek, then shuts the door immediately and runs off.

“Bastard…” You mutter to yourself.

[xileonaaaa]

Thinking of Ino admiring a foreigner that he finds attractive..

Nothing negative to say about him, no one ever writes about him though.

──────⋆⋅☼⋅⋆──────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Ino!Takuma who had successfully convinced Nanami to treat him to dinner after he’d successfully gotten promoted to a grade 1 sorcerer.

Ino!Takuma who was halfway through stuffing his mouth full of stewed beef, when he saw you and your pretty friends flow into the restaurant.

Ino!Takuma who nearly choked on his food, and had to struggle to swallow everything so he could get a good look at you.

Ino!Takuma who was probably drooling, just like in those cartoons he still watches to this day, but he couldn’t help himself, nor could he look away. You were….beyond just the average beauty, you were gorgeous. The way your skin seemed to glow in the yellow lights of the restaurant made Ino’s stomach start doing flips.

Ino!Takuma who began hastily wiping his mouth as he eyed where the waiter was going to seat you and your little party.

Ino!Takuma who paused for a second, wondering, more like hoping and praying, that you didn’t have a boyfriend.

Ino!Takuma who gave a quick glance over to a very confused, and tired looking Nanami before getting up and dusting himself off. He still had on his work clothes, but that was okay, he just had to get your number.

Ino!Takuma who began walking over to where you were situated, but ended up stopping just short of where your booth was, his initial self confidence gone up in smoke right before his very eyes. He still had on his work clothes…what if he smelt bad? What if you just laughed at him when he asked for your number? What if you really did have a boyfriend-

Ino!Takuma who spun around just as quickly as he’d gotten up, before plopping back down in his seat across from Nanami.

Ino!Takuma who just picked back up his chopsticks, and popped some more meat that Nanami had taken off the grill, into his mouth. Yeah, that’s right. Who was kidding? He sure as hell had zero chance with someone like you.

Ino!Takuma who blatantly ignored Nanami’s questionable gazes aimed towards him, and just continued on stuffing his face with food. (His very obvious glances your way ended up giving away what he was pouting over.)

Ino!Takuma who couldn’t spend even five minutes in silence, before he began ranting to Nanami about how you just had to be this over the top, name brand model, and how stupid he’d look if he even thought about trying his shot with you.

Ino!Takuma who ended up pausing mid sentence because his stomach started to make very questionable sounds.

Ino!Takuma who made quite a scene when he leapt up from his seat, excused himself from Nanami, and dashed to the bathroom. (He hadn’t chewing his food properly.)

Ino!Takuma who spent the better have of 15 minutes hurled up in the bathroom, literally fighting for his life. (Not that you would know that.)

Ino!Takuma who finally emerged from the men’s restroom, trying his best to look normal.

Ino!Takuma who took his seat in from of Nanami, and suddenly realized that he’d completely lost his appetite. (He was glad Nanami ordered to-go boxes.)

Ino!Takuma who was about to get back up, but was stopped by a soft hand on his shoulder. Thinking it was Nanami for some reason, he was about to spurt some nonsense, but fell silent the moment he locked eyes with you.

Ino!Takuma who didn’t even realize he was staring with his mouth wide open, until you gently shut it for him.

Ino!Takuma who was literally shaking when the two of you exchanged phone numbers.

Ino!Takuma who walked out of that restaurant with the biggest grin on his face. (While Ino was in the bathroom shitting his guts out, Nanami had taken the initiative to tell you about Ino’s failed plans. He was happy it worked out.)

[fredwkong]

Gateway Drug

You had always had fantasies about marijuana. The DARE officer had described the sensation of being stoned, the desire to do nothing but get stoned again. He’d scared you deeply, scarred you, even. You’d never even gotten close to buying any, terrified that you would… what? Enjoy it?

Now, here you were. It was legal, and not only that, the psychiatrist had told you it would help with your anxiety. You had walked into the dispensary and walked out with a product, and the world hadn’t ended.

The clerk had handed you three pre-rolled blunts, and said that they were guaranteed to ease you into getting stoned. He’d had a strange smile on his face as he’d said it, but you had been so anxious that you hadn’t registered it. You’d barely been able to get a word out faced with him: a laid-back, blissed-out stoner who stank of skunk and body odour.

You hurried home and got ready. You laid out some of your favourite snacks on your obsessively clean counter, and tidied everything away. You thought about dusting a second time, but realised you were delaying. You tugged down your scratchy polo shirt and wiped your sweating hands on your pressed khakis.

With shaking fingers, you flicked on a lighter and lit one of the blunts. As soon as the smell of the smoke hit your nose, you felt yourself loosen up. It didn’t smell so bad.

You took a hit and resisted the urge to cough. By the time you breathed the smoke out, you were already starting to feel relaxed. Your polo shirt loosened into a soft, old band tee, and your khakis became a pair of worn sweatpants. As you took a second hit, the smell of weed embedded itself in your pores and the fabric of your clothes, filling your whole awareness.

With the weed hitting you, you started to sink deeper into the couch, which had just been a new Ikea loveseat but was swiftly becoming a beat-up, stained, broken-in sofa with a dent for your thickening ass. Your head, facial, and body hair grew out sloppily, greasy with unwashed sweat and oil. The smell of weed mixed with the growing scent of your unwashed, musky bod.

You took another slow hit, and your slow, stoned brain sent you a new idea: you started to strip off your musky, threadbare T-shirt and wiggle out of your sweatpants. It felt great to get naked in the comfort of your own home. The cool air tingled against your oily skin as you settled back onto the couch. You wiggled your long toes against the carpet, enjoying the sensation against the oily digits.

The growing cloud of pot smoke briefly obscured your vision, and when it drifted away your apartment was transformed into a proper stoner den. The couch faced a wide-screen TV with a full shelf of gay porn under it. The floor was covered in dirty clothes and trash you were too lazy and stoned to pick up. In the kitchen, the grungy counter was covered in empty takeout containers, and the sink full of dishes. The bed in the opposite corner wasn’t even visible under piles of clothes that might have been clean or might have been dirty.

Your body changed, too. Rather than being slender and weedy, you were now softer, shorter, and definitely hairier. You scratched your hairy balls as you alternated between tokes on the blunt and sniffs of your rancid armpit. At this point, your dick got more than interested, standing to attention and beginning to spurt jets of pre from your big stoner ballsac. Getting stoned always got you horny. And you were always getting stoned, so you were always horny. The rich smell of your uncut dick mingled with the stench of weed.

As you took the last few hits from the blunt, expertly smoking it right down to your fingers, you started to jack off, using your ample precum like lube. As you leaned back and moaned in a deep, blissed-out voice, your collection of bongs and other weed paraphernalia appeared on the coffee table in front of you, the only place you cared about keeping tidy. You shot a huge load all over your naked pecs and belly, which you rubbed into your thick hair as you discarded the spent blunt in an ashtray.

You grabbed a half-finished bag of cheetos from the kitchen counter and lay back down on the couch, scrolling Grindr and wondering if the hot clerk from the dispensary was available to bottom. Then you remembered the pack of three blunts he had given you. Your previous life was like a distant dream in the back of your mind, but you knew just enough to wonder if two of your old, uptight dude friends might want to come over and try some of your special weed.

It was a gateway drug, after all.