#and yeah this is just me making a post because people were yet again cunts to me in the street like why are y'all like this I'm tired

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym

@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr

@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie

@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours

@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini

@toomanytookas @vikingqueen28 @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams

@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

[delusion-of-negation]

a Certain Group online: "doesn't matter what you ~identify~ as, women will see you as a potential threat and cross the street if you're there because All Men are potential threats to women!!"

what the women approaching me in the street say:

[vro0m]

Brocedes hasnt been brocedes all year. Its just a lot more ovi now. We got a certified nico lewis situation at merc. Toto picking the wrong guy once again. Whats new?

Okay first of all I wanna say this can't be a Nico - Lewis situation. There will never be a Nico - Lewis situation again. But I guess what you mean is there's an open, direct rivalry at Merc again. Which. Yeah sure. That's usually what happens. I'm not surprised it's happening, we mentioned it before.

(long post)

I'm not sure what you mean by 'Toto picking the wrong guy once again'. If you mean in the context of hiring George, I disagree because George is a very good driver. If you mean in the race, I highly doubt Toto is the one making the strategy calls in the middle of things. At the very most, the strategists tell him the options and he might green-light one of them.

They've been having strategy issues for a while now. That's also something we've talked about before. If anything, I'd say the issue lies with the strategy team rather than Toto or George. We've said the bad calls were hidden by the good car performance before but also I do think it's gotten worse. Back when it was announced that Vowles was leaving, I said not directly replacing him was bullshit. They claimed the rest of the department would just divide Vowles' workload between themselves. Toto said they'd been doing it already during the '22 season (when did the strategy issues ramp up? idk). What I said at the time was "someone is going to have to make the final decision on strategy" and "otherwise it's not gonna work". It might just not be working.

One thing I'll give credit to George for is that he's trying things. Hasn't there been a convo in the last few weeks with people (including me iirc) saying Merc is too conservative with the strategy? That they need to stop acting like they're at the front, defending rather than behind, chasing? Also isn't it kinda boring when the team doesn't give the car that's qualified behind a chance and only uses it to support the other? (Also with his quali performances lately, wouldn't that do more harm to Lewis than George?) I guess it's just the way being a fan goes, but I feel like every race weekend I see fans of either driver defending what or complaining about what they were complaining about or defending the previous race, depending on who they're rooting for the most. It's okay when it's their blorbo only (which again : just being a fan).

Anyway props to George for being a driver, and asking for more. That's his job. Sometimes it annoys me ngl. Sometimes I feel like he's acting too entitled during the races. But as I also said before, it's not particularly unexpected from a young driver. Lewis was really not that different in his days lol. They all have a chip on their shoulder and they are all essentially starving egotistical cunts. The older ones might just have learnt to hide it slightly better through the years. Slightly. Is Lewis being more of a team player? On track, probably so, props to him for that. Don't know how long it's gonna last in these conditions though, given that he's also a starving egotistical cunt. Off track, he's complaining very loudly and unsubtly about not being prioritised by the team in a not-so-great way imo. I'm repeating myself yet again but it's not as easy as just saying here's what needs fixing with the car, then claiming they're not listening to him when it doesn't suddenly work. Merc is truly fumbling with the development, and patience is not Lewis' greatest virtue lol. He's clearly getting frustrated with the performance, understandably so. I'm simultaneously pretty sure that's true for the whole team, not just him. So him saying they're not doing their best and voluntarily just not doing what he wants is probably not helping.

I do think that the team is gonna have to find a way to make it work between them two on track before they take each other out or straight up disobey team orders out of hunger or frustration. But well. Do I have to link the essay again? (Sorry for bringing it up 10 times a week.) It's not that easy managing intra-team rivalries and I see some people claiming they should pick a n°1 driver but how? Right now, Lewis and George are on par in quali (8-8). George has less points for sure but you also gotta take into account that he's had four terrible races in the year, not always by his fault (although sometimes yes). Outside of these four races, their results are very similar. This is not a Max-Perez type of gap by far. Lewis is most probably not gonna stay for 10 more years despite what he sometimes likes to pretend, George might. I'm still rooting for Lewis first and everybody else second but if you look at this realistically, it's not as simple as saying to George "look we're betting on you for the future, someday, but until Lewis retires you'll always be a second thought to us. But you know, still stay with us and take it lying down. Toodles!" He's completely right about it, but it's easier for Lewis to say "we're fighting for the team not for driver points" when he's the one ahead in the standings. Because what? You always always have to do better than your teammate. (Again, sorry for bringing it up constantly.)

In some way the issue with both of them is impatience. Lewis is impatient to have a good car again and he's starting to somewhat take it out on the team which isn't ideal. For all they looove saying we win and we lose together, that's not a supportive behavior claiming publicly they're just not listening to him. George is impatient to get track position and to beat his team-mate and he's rushing the racing too much, making rookie mistakes in the process (see Singapore) and demanding sometimes more than his due during races.

So yeah I think they need to rein them both in — one off track, one on track — but also without rejecting all new ideas and all questioning, both when it comes to the car and when it comes to the race strategy. It's not gonna be easy, but it's definitely gonna be very interesting.

[jackie-shitposts]

is it just me or do i feel like there aren't enough Sheena simps or stans in this fandom? maybe i'm in the wrong place or maybe i'm just stupid... but like i always see Jeantonio posts and Crackle appreciation/simp posts (not complaining hes my fav) but i literally NEVER see people simping over Sheena and WHY??? shes so badass literally the Pacifica Northwest of CS

and instead of stanning her we gotta make fun of her in fanfics and art and i just-

not to mention some ships with her are...pretty mid imo. dont get me wrong i think Papertiger is really interesting, but i dont get Tigred (i cant see enemies to lovers working out here) and Graysheen is just. like there's no chemistry, and men and women CAN be friends. also is Tigrivy a ship? i really like that dynamic, but my personal hc is that Sheena's had so many exes that she turned into a self loving badass lol

also the show (and book adaptation) REALLY mistreats her. i hate the fact she's the only "main operative" (out of the four; Crackle, Le Chevre, El Topo, Tigress) that gets jailed. i wanna learn more about her!! shes really interested in jewelery, even in the book shes like "ooh bling bling" maybe we could have seen a shot after VILE's takedown of her working with jewels? maybe a fashion designer (she clearly liked Countess Cleo the best out of the faculty.) maybe in the Rio caper she could have been more relaxed and in her element??

ik shes a "mean girl," but she deserves to change. there are people in this show who have done so much worse (*cough* Chief *cough*) and the show lets them walk away, but someone with just bad manners and a snobby personality is OH SO HORRIBLE?? i would have liked to see her and Carmen resolve their shit, not let Carmen win every damn time. besides, we saw it with Pacifica and Mabel - it cant be THAT hard. (i know criminals have bigger problems than petty rivals but let me have my moment.)

so yeah, sorry for the anon rant. but what are your thoughts?

The sheena stans and simps are certainly not the majority, but over time I’ve seen a not-insignificant chunk of them. I think the biggest sheena simps are the animators though because they always animate her like she’s serving cunt (because she IS)

If youre looking for tigress fans, papertiger is where youre really gonna need to look. I disagree with you on the ships you consider mid, but to each their own in that regard. I do think Graysheen couldve worked and im honestly surprised its such a rarepair. I also think that Sheena’s far too insecure by the end of the show to truly love herself yet, but she could totally get there.

I do think that she had SO MUCH MORE potential than she was given in the show, while at the same time being one of the more interesting VILE operatives (once again thinking about my Sheena Mindwipe AU that simmers in my brain). Sheena does deserve to change, but she needs to WANT to change and by the end of the show she wasn’t in that place yet, and there wasnt anything to push her to that place (in fanfic, a lot of ships are what ultimately do push her to be better, such is the case with redtiger). But at the same time we gotta understand that Tigress is a supporting character, and even if there were further plans for her the show wouldnt have had time for them. If only i had the money to make the show myself smh

[mausolealdrift]

Do you have a deathgasm notp??? Sincerely, a canon zakk/Medina was a fucking cosmic fuck up incident truther

oh you’re absolutely right i have So many thoughts about this. sorry this took me forever to answer i needed to collect all of my thoughts together and all of that i am Normal about Characters

so like . for obvious reasons the thought of ppl genuinely shipping zakk and medina as in like……… thinking theyd actually be good together or smthn is a fucking insane idea and im So very glad ive only seen maybe one person say some shit like that. (which like. honestly im starting to think i might have imagined the post in my head just to make myself mad bc i havent been able to find it since ??? but i SWEAR i saw someone shipping them once .) the two of em actually being in a relationship would just be. Awful and unhealthy for both of them

(and yeah zakk and brodie arent exactly healthy for each other either . but in the sense that they both make each other Worse yet neither of them can stay away from the other even if they want to etc etc. which is actually sexy and not just . y’know)

but anyway . yeah Definitely a cosmic fuck up. medina deserves better than that :( like she’s been objectified and treated like shit by pretty much every guy who looks her way and then zakk lies to her abt the one guy who actually respects her to manipulate her into hooking up w him. give her a BREAK

but as much as it was The dick move of the century i think zakk had his reasons for it aside from just boredom. Obviously this is all very much my personal and extremely biased interpretation etc. but i think it was out of frustration more than anything else because he just can’t fucking cope with having feelings for brodie. regardless of whether you see those feelings as romantic or not he Cares too much about him. and he doesn’t know how to handle that so he takes his anger and frustration out on medina in such a spiteful and destructive way because it’s all he knows how to do. and whether he knows why or not, the idea of brodie getting closer with medina bothers him so so deeply – enough for him to try and sabotage their relationship at every chance he gets (and then later trying to keep them apart to stop brodie finding out what he did because he doesn’t want to lose him) under the guise of just being bored or only caring about himself.

and i really don’t think there’s much of a possibility that he did it because he was into her, or jealous of brodie, or anything like that. zakk never showed interest in her at all until then (i.e. when she made a move to try and get closer with brodie) and just….. seemed generally pretty indifferent to her otherwise. if he really wanted to then he could’ve made a move before, but he didn’t.

he purposefully did something that he knew would hurt them both if they (inevitably) found out, maybe not because he genuinely wanted to hurt them but because he’s reckless and destructive in nature, (and maybe a little bit stupid sometimes), and just doesn’t know how else to handle or comprehend his feelings other than to take it out on other people.

i think a lot of the dickhead-ish shit zakk does in the movie seems kind of random and thoughtless and it’s difficult to unpick what his motivations are for the things he does aside from just ‘because’, but a lot of it starts to make a lot more sense when you see it as a result of him caring about brodie far more than he wants to, and not knowing how to handle it. he seems so cruel and uncaring, and he definitely wants to be seen that way, but i think he cares deeper than anyone else in his own (kind of incomprehensible) way. and yeah, it’s still shitty and selfish and fucked up, and he still took advantage of medina and used her regardless of why, but i dunno. i think the reasons for it were a lot more complex than he let on.

(again, maybe i’m reading too much into it all and he is just a fucking cunt who just did shitty things for no reason, but the fact that he still came back for brodie after everything, despite how mad he was, even though it led to him dying in the end, is more than enough to show that he really does care too much for his own good.)

so yeah uh. i don’t fucking know how this went from ‘yeah i think zakk/medina sucks’ to a full-on analysis of zakk. But i dont care actually i love being fucking insufferable about this stupid movie <3

sorry for the massive fucking wordvomit im tortured by the curse of Thinking about characters

[worstutfanonthingpoll]

Hello haters!

Now if you know me you know I like two things:

HATING (and please don't call me an anti)

MAKING DISCORD SERVERS

So! I have decided to combine these two things

Now, some backstory:

(Spoiler warnings for Xtale)

Backstory~

I was coming back from holiday in Port U Gal (it was nice, other than the fact i burned to death a lot) and decided HEY! I DOWNLOADED THE LAST EPISODE OF XTALE TO WATCH ON THE PLANE! I SHOULD DO THAT!

Before this, I had slowly been dragging myself through xtale (adhd means i needed to spread it out). I liked it, other than the fact I had no idea what was going on 30% of the time. Anyway.

So I watched Xtale episode the last, and suddenly Sans was relevant despite only having about two speaking roles beforehand. And suddenly he and CharaFrisk were claiming to be besties. And suddenly FriskChara tried to make him kill them bc... it would force XGaster into reseting, weakening him (i think).

All of a sudden everyone's memories were back and they were about to kick XGaster's ass. WONDERFUL, thought me. THIS CUNT'S HAD IT COMING FOR TEN EPISODES. But then GUESS WHO SUDDENLY DEVELOPS MARY SUE SUPERPOWERS AND DESTROYS THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, BECAUSE... I genuinely do not know.

Did he feel CharaFrisk betrayed him by overwriting him? Maybe, but I think their actions were justified. They didn't see any other way out and they genuinely thought sans would be willing to help bc theyre besties for some reason.

Did he feel for Gaster bc he raised him? Valid enough, but if that's the case why did Papyrus (who was also raised by XGaster), Mr Spare a Genocidal Maniac, join the Gaster torture?

And again, WHY WAS HE THAT OP? There is no explanation for where those powers came from and I think that it is ridiculous he destroyed everyone and everything with full control over his powers, and then had the gall to wail about it. Like dude. No one was forcing you to do that?? Jeez.

And then Ink, who somehow failed to notice the Ten Variations of Hell Gaster created despite multiversal watch being his LITERAL JOB, comes in like. Oh! Hi sans variant in a destroyed universe! You're invited to the main plotline now! ;D

Wow.

Nothing against Ink, but according to the poll runner server, Ink's inaction is kind of a thing that happens a lot in Underverse. Rip.

End of Backstory~

(Please don't hate on me if you like Cr#ss. If you are a fan of him, good on you! Enjoy the pleathora of fanon content, and feel free to block me. Just no hate pls)

To sum it up, I think Cr○ss Sans sucks but there is nothing on tumblr or ao3 or anywhere agreeing with me

So! I am starting a Cr♡ss Hate Club™ where we complain about him and make that hater content we've been craving, including shipping him with TECtale Sans (an oc of mine who is kind of the worst) and creating the "Cr□ss Sans is a Jerk" tag on ao3 (if swapfell sans gets one, SO DOES CR%SS)

The hate club will be a discord server, the link to which doesn't even exist yet. This is mostly a post to see if people are interested. If not, and I'm right about everyone's undying love for him then that's okay! I'll delete the post and move on with my life.

If you're interested but fear hate, feel free to dm me. But if anyone dms to yell at me for not liking Cr0ss, you're getting blocked.

And remember:

Me saying I don't like someone or something doesn't mean I'm saying you're not allowed to enjoy it, because guess what? People are allowed to have opinions! If he is your fave, good for you! Just please please don't send me hate.

Hell, send me Cr☆ss centered fics that portray him positively if you like, its good for me to broaden my horizons and shit. Also I like the Nightmare's gang found family stuff lol.

Yeah that's pretty much it. Will censor Cr◇ss's name so it doesn't come up when searched.

@inksans-unofficial @worstutcanonthingpoll

[whentheynameyoujoy]

Y’know what, fuck it, I’m angry, let’s talk about this.

I’ve been and remain of the firm opinion that anyone who’s not a Ukrainian yet expresses indignation at Russians for not going out en masse to protest the war is at best an uninformed idiot and at worst a larper with an over-inflated stock of their own willingness to stick by their stated values when facing the barrel of a gun. And I stand by that—the average Western and CEE experience with opposing their government is laughable compared to what a Russian faces. Sure, I like to soothe my ego by thinking that I’d be able to stand up to a Russia-level of suppression if the situation called for it but the honest truth is I have serious doubts. I’ve lived a life of relative comfort in a free democracy (flawed, but still), and the idea of having a government known to disappear and torture and murder its own citizens is so alien to me as to be unfathomable. In my heart of hearts, I know there’s an extremely real possibility that if you transplanted me to the modern-day Russia I’d turn out to be a coward.

But motherfucker…

If you didn’t know and thought the list of Russian atrocities needed beefing up, Russian soldiers are now opening fire at protesters in the occupied parts of Ukraine. And disgustingly, what I’ve seen pop up more and more is people targeting Ukrainians with the condescending “Ha, so now you know what Russians protesters deal with? Isn’t this a bit of a revelation for you? Don’t you feel silly for wanting Russians to stand up to their government? Are you ready to grow up now that Russian soldiers showed you how the real world works?”

To which I have only one thing to say.

Get fucking bent you revolting fucking cunts.

Equating Russian and Ukrainian civilians as though they’re both equally affected by the war has been an unfortunate trend since the war started but this is just fucking inexcusable. And what do you know, it’s fully in the line with the tendency of viewing Ukraine as a helpless pawn without any agency, as a toy of empires that never does anything on its own besides twiddling its thumbs. As though Ukrainians were handed their country on a silver platter, as though they couldn’t possibly know the risks of going up against an authoritarian government, as though their only experience with resisting tyranny is waving a banner for twenty minutes and then going to a McDonalds, risking no consequences whatsoever.

As though risking your life for freedom is a concept they haven’t encountered up until now.

Guess this shit doesn’t exist unless it can be called a CIA coup.

And this infantilisation and denial of agency, of actual accomplishment goes for Eastern Europe as a whole, btw, something I see people getting very confused about. So to relieve you of that confusion, let me make this very simple.

Soviet Union was a colonial empire run for the primary benefit of Russia, consisting of violently suppressed republics and violently maintained vassal states—who took every opportunity, time and time again, to wrest themselves free, paying for it with blood and further oppression until they finally succeeded. And yeah, you’re absolutely right—if I now go oppose the bunch of kleptocratic conservatards that make up my government, it’s extremely unlikely I’ll face any consequences for it. But that’s not because my country was somehow coincidently handed democracy as some kind of a new imperialistic exercise of the benevolent West. It’s because the generation of my parents and grandparents wanted freedom and democracy, took substantial risks to overthrow the totalitarian government, built the institutions safeguarding the democratic order, and then every single generation after that gave enough of a fuck to make sure that “I can’t go protest, I might get beaten or killed” wouldn’t be a valid concern again.

No matter how flawed, Eastern European democracies are democracies because the people there did the work to build and protect those democracies.

Meanwhile, post-Soviet Russia faced the usual problem a broken empire faces, that of what it is after the countries it exploited and suppressed in order to prop itself up gave it the finger. Russian Federation was created because the USSR outstretched itself too much to keep control over its subjects, not because ordinary Russians staged a massive popular uprising demanding a different political arrangement—unlike Eastern European countries. Russia wasn’t interested in democracy, it didn’t choose democracy, it didn’t protect democracy, and so now Russians find themselves dealing with the slight issue of having no democratic institutions to fall on during the country’s breakneck run towards fascism.

The Poles weren’t handed shit. The Estonians weren’t handed shit. The Ukrainians sure as fuck aren’t being handed shit. And I’d really fucking appreciate it people stopped turning a very simple acknowledgement of the realities facing ordinary people in current Russia into this woobification where the only thing that differentiates Russia from Eastern Europe is a stroke of luck poor Russians weren’t fortunate enough to be blessed with.

Eastern Europe and Russia are not the fucking same. Pretending like they are erases the entire history of the Eastern European struggle for freedom and plays directly into the imperialistic line of thinking both Russia and the West are so fond of. Stahp

[hyunjilicious]

smut blurb [bucky barnes]

A/n: I have absolutely no idea where this came from, but daydreaming about was satisfying as fuck, so I thought I’d share

Summary: you and Bucky haven’t been dating for a long time, and a meme from Instagram helps him discover your submissive side KINKY 1.6k

Warnings: D/s dynamics, implied smut, spit play (main topic - don’t like it, don’t read this!), innocent reader, Bucky being smug as hell. I don’t think I have to mention this, but 18+ please!!

I know it’s a Bucky fic, I chose the gif for the tongue, don’t @ me!

Curled on the couch beside Bucky, you sat and scrolled through your phone. You had your cheek squished against his chest as his right arm was draped around your middle, his eyes on the TV and yours on the memes on your Instagram home page. 

The documentary he was watching had bored you about ten minutes in, but you knew he waited months for it to be released, so you kept quiet, only rarely actually paying attention to what was going on on the TV. The room was fairly quiet, none of you moving or saying anything as the minutes passed by.

At one point, you involuntarily broke the silence when a dismissive chuckle slipped past your lips. You didn't think much of it and continued scrolling on your phone, but Bucky's attention was now on you.

"What?" he asked, playing with a strand of your hair before tucking it behind your ear and kissing the top of your head.

"Nothing" you mumbled, "Just a stupid meme"

"Show me" he softly commanded, leaning his head down to see. 

You looked up into his eyes, his face dangerously close to yours, "It's nothing" you laughed.

"You know I love my memes, come on" he pushed, and in the end, you scrolled back up. 

When you reached the post in question, you raised one eyebrow and waited for him to realise that there really was nothing interesting about it. But then he chuckled.

"That was funny to you?" you giggled, amused solely by the fact that he found the meme good.

Bucky averted his gaze from the screen of your phone to your eyes, "Yeah"

"Why?" you laughed, "It's not funny, it's gross. I don't get why people keep saying that. No one thinks that's hot"

"I do" he nonchalantly said, throwing in a shrug to prove just how serious he was.

For a second, you had no reply, but then you pushed yourself up and rolled your eyes. "But that's because you're a guy. No girl would ever ask her boyfriend to spit in her mouth"

"You wouldn't?" Bucky frowned. He didn't seem offended, or surprised, it just seemed like he didn't believe you.

"I-" you opened your mouth to contradict him, to tell him that you can't see yourself asking him to do that. But as soon as you spoke the first word, you froze, closed your mouth and decided to rethink your words. But nothing came to mind. You just looked into his awaiting eyes, and mumbled a shy "No"

"Why not?"

He was so calm, it bugged you. And kept you on your toes. You felt a familiar kind of excitement build up in the pit of your stomach, but you still tried to convince yourself that that was not something you'd ever want to try. 

"I don't know, Bucky" you sighed, "I don't understand why someone would ask for that"

"If you knew I like it and wanted to do that with you, you still wouldn't ask me to?" 

The way he pushed you. Just how smug he was while doing it. There was some kind of weird satisfaction he was getting from grilling you like this. He loved seeing you all flustered, to push your buttons, especially after seeing just how easy it was to control you.

As you thought of an answer, the corner of Bucky's mouth lifted up, eagerly waiting to see if you were ready to give in yet. 

"I don't-" you said, nervous and embarrassed, palms sweating as he looked down at you, "I don't know, I don't think I'd-"

"Open your mouth" he commanded, placing his hand on your hip and giving you an encouraging pat. "Now" Bucky added after seeing you hesitate.

It was not like you were afraid of him, he never lifted a hand or had ever been aggressive in any kind of way. The reason you obeyed in an instant after he asked you again, was because you wanted to please him, to show him that you were good, and entirely his.

You kept your eyes trained on his as you opened your mouth, your heart beating out of your chest. Rubbing his hand across your thigh, Bucky urged you to close the distance between your bodies, "Come here" he calmly commanded.

And again, you obeyed.

"Closer" he repeated, until you were mere inches away from him.

He grabbed your cheek into his palm and pushed you down until you were facing his chest, and then he tilted your head up. You felt his thumb softly rub the skin below your eye, as you boiled with anticipation.

"Push your tongue out, doll" 

After you did so, he sent you a sweet, proud smile, before spitting in your mouth without any kind of warning. Your whole body clenched with nerves, your pussy trembling as your mind started to uncover a new, hidden part of itself. Why did that turn you on so much?

Softly, Bucky placed his fingers under your chin and closed your mouth, "Good girl" he nodded, "Now swallow for me"

As you swallowed, a new wave of ecstasy washed over you. And it came out of nowhere - the instinct to open your mouth again. It made him chuckle, but the embarrassment didn't make you reconsider. You just sat and waited, tongue out.

"I take it you enjoyed that?" Bucky laughed, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

"Mhm" you nodded and sent him a sweet pout, somehow confused with what just happened, but mostly disappointed that it was over.

"Now you understand why some girls ask their boyfriends to do that?"

"I guess, yeah"

Bucky grabbed your chin again, but this time he kissed you. He went all in, consuming you until you melted in his hold. His hands roamed your body until his fingers reached your ass, lewdly sinking into your flesh. His grip kept tightening, threatening to bruise your skin, but you loved it. So when he pulled away, you whined and tried to follow him, but he stopped you.

"Nah-ah" he shook his head, "You know what you have to do now"

Oh no, you thought, he couldn't be serious. Your cheeks caught on fire the second you realised what he expected of you. Bucky watched you closely, a wicked grin on his perfect lips as he saw you fidget and struggle. And on top of this, he held you close, rubbing his thumb along your jawline, making it so much more difficult for you to focus.

"Bucky?" you eventually called.

"Yes, doll?" he nodded, his hand traveling lower to gently caress your breasts.

You took a deep breath, your chest expanding against his palm. You knew he could feel your hard nipples through your shirt, but the thought only made you needier.

"Can you-" you asked softly, "Can you please spit in my mouth?"

"How did you manage to make that sound so cute?" Bucky shook his head in disbelief, chuckling as he licked his lips, but you stood your ground, begging him with your stare. "Of course, angel," he regained himself, "Open up for me"

This time, things went more smoothly. You swallowed proudly and sent him a genuine smile before you leaned in and pecked his lips. "Thank you"

"You're welcome, baby" he hummed, gathering you close. He brought you with your back against his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around your frame as he whispered in your ear. "Let me see how much you like that"

You didn't even get a chance to say anything before he forced his hand down your leggings and into your underwear, his fingers instantly meeting your core.

"I honestly did not expect you to be so wet" he confessed.

Embarrassed beyond words, you hurried to hide your pained expression behind your hands. 

"Don't do that" Bucky urged you, using his metal hand to grab your wrists and uncover your face, "Not with me, ok? Don't ever hide from me"

After he tilted your head to get you to look at him over your shoulder, you faintly nodded.

"Good" he smiled, kissing your temple, "Now why don't you let me take care of that for you?"

As he spoke, one of his fingers slipped past your folds, slowly sinking inside your cunt, knuckle deep. 

And you couldn't have been happier to accept. With ease, he helped you off of him and placed you down on the couch, swiftly dragging your leggings and underwear off. As he settled between your already trembling legs, you reached out and touched his cheek to stop him and get him to look at you.

"Is everything ok?" Bucky asked, traces of concern visible in the blue of his eyes.

"Yeah" you giggled, "Everything's perfect, I just- um, can we do that again?"

He raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

"You know?" you rolled your eyes, "That?"

"Now?" Bucky laughed, visibly relieved.

"Not now" you mumbled, "Like... whenever?"

"Yes, darling. Whenever you want. Just say the word"

"But like-" you pouted, "I don't want to have to always ask you. Like you could tell me, too"

"Oh," Bucky nodded, finally understanding what you've been trying to say. He crawled up your body and stopped above you, his breath fanning against your lips as he spoke. "So you want me to just come and tell you to open up for me, and you'll do it, like the good little girl you are?"

"Yes" 

"I like that" he said, kissing your lips, "Deal"

[hotwings0203]

now we need a part 4 with izuku and bakugo on what happens next to the poor reader 😩✋🏼

Aight imma do a two for one here so MASSIVE BET

Tw:noncon, gangbang

When your hand reaches the doorknob, you know something is off only half a millisecond before another large hand settles itself on your wrist and another one caressing your side.

You freeze immediately at the voices that croon and snarl to you.

“Open the door quietly and we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it’s already gonna be.”

“God, you smell so good. You still haven’t changed your shampoo even after all these weeks huh? I like it.”

Your hand starts to shake and your body starts to sweat as you wildly try to find a way out of this situation. The voices sound eerily familiar, with one being higher and the other more aggressive and raspy, but you don’t dare turn around to locate the faces.

One of them seems to be catching onto your hesitation, because your wrist is crushed underneath a hard grasp and you cry out softly as they growl.

“Open. This. Fucking. Door. Right now.”

It takes a good 15 more seconds to jimmy the lock open, and once you do all three of you go tumbling in.

You whip back around to see both men standing over you, merely watching you with crossed arms and equally perverse leers.

“D-deku? Bakugo? What’s going on?”

Deku practically bounces on the balls of his feet, itching with inappropriate anticipation for what’s to come.

“We wanted to play with you! Are you ready? You can’t fucking ignore me anymore!” His voice is cheery as always but it breaks when he curses, the strains in his vocal cords sticking out while he forces himself from holding back.

Bakugo steps forward.

“Didnt I tell you I was gonna come again for you, you teasing cunt? Didn’t I say to watch your back? Now look at you, sprawled on the floor like rapetoys should be.”

Both men start slowly uncrossing their arms and advance towards you.

“No-no please, why? I didn’t do anything to you! Deku, please!” You blubber as you scuttle backwards, their strides equally as long.

You continue evading them as they play around with you.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words. ‘Deku, please.’ Although, I’d very much rather you moan it for me.” He has the audacity to blush, and then Bakugo interjects.

“You deserve this y’know, so don’t start crying now. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” He spreads his hands and his uncharacteristic grin stretches from ear to ear, his vermillion eyes flashing in the dim light of your dorm.

“Anyone whose stupid enough to not realize how this creep has been sniffin’ your panties for months-hell, maybe even years now should get raped. You’re so fucking stupid, you didn’t realize I was protecting you from him.”

“But now look at you. Alone, afraid, vulnerable…oh, and going to the bedroom. You really are an easy slut, huh?”

Deku’s eyes light up when he realizes you truly are unknowingly backing up into the bedroom, but you realize it too late.

It’s only after Bakugo’s words come out that you try to look for a detour for the lock-induced bathroom, but Deku has a different idea.

Out of pure excitement he laughs and sprints towards you, hands outreached to touch your pretty skin, mouth open with drool softly filling the tile below him and eyes bloodshot with lust.

He looks like a creature from hell, and in the pure terror of watching him come at you like that your plan to detour was thwarted and you mindlessly trip back over your feet onto the bed, scrambling as far away as you can from them to the headboard.

You look to your left and quickly seize your bedside lamp, raising it above your head.

“Domt come any closer you closer perv. God, I shouldve known you were fucked in the head. I kept trying to make excuses for you, I thought you were my friend-“ you break down in sobs as the green haired man continues looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, absentmindedly wiping his hand across his mouth.

“And you,” you point to Bakugo who bares his teeth and smirks madly, “I already knew you were the embodiment of hell, but I thought you had a limit of how low you could stoop. You didn’t protect me from shit, you forced your way inside of me day in and day out.”

“Well now that your useless little monologue is over, Deku, tie her legs to the posts. I swear Y/N, you’re making this way too easy for me. It’s almost boring, I already know what I’m gonna get.” He raises his eyebrows at you while he lets his minion do all the work for him, goosebumps racing up his arm at the sight of you screaming and fighting tooth and nail against your fate.

But at the end of the day, after all your curses and sobs and monologues, you’re no match for either of them, especially Deku, who cooes at you to scream louder while he caresses your face and uses nylon string to secure your wrists to the wooden posts. Your legs are also bound after Bakugo seizes them from kicking, and a gag is placed over your mouth by his hands.

He roughly taps the tape covering your trembling lips and smiles condescendingly down at you.

“You’re doing so well for us, rapemeat. Keep up the good work and try to spread those legs as much as you can.” He chuckles when you scream your lungs out, thrashing as he yanks your knees apart.

“Aw, Kacchan, can’t we take the gag off? I wanted to hear her in my ears,” he pouts and looks glumly at your writhing figure.

“No, how fucked in the head are you? Someones gonna come down if she’s hollering for the whole building to hear. And cut her clothes off, I’m getting impatient.”

It seems like Deku too was at his last fiber of self control as his hands shake equally as much as yours, except for an entirely different reason altogether, the opposite reason of yours in fact.

He fishes in his back pockets for something, and produces a glinting steel knife with a black handle.

You still immediately as his descends his hands to the top of your v-neck shirt, right above your collarbones. His eyes fog up as your satiny smooth skin comes in contact with the blade, the coldness of the steel sending shivers down your spine and making you sob harder.

“Kacchan…did you ever get a taste of her blood? How does she taste?” He lifts his head to look into your tear-streaked eyes, but he addresses his childhood friend.

Bakugo snorts. “Calm down Toga, don’t get too crazy yet. We’ll have some more fun later, right now my dick is about to explode. ‘Need a hole,” he mumbles at the end and finally clambers onto the bed right atop your legs.

You stay absolutely silent as pressure from the knife rips the thin strands of your clothes apart, and Deku takes careful care to ensure you at least have thin red lines running down your stomach if not for actual blood.

“Oh fuckkkk,just look at her. You look good enough to eat…” he looks at you and licks his lips, salivating when you whine and twist at your restraints.

“Yeah yeah, you do whatever the fuck you want. Just choose what you’re gonna stick it in and hurry up.”

The blond looks bored almost as the more eager one whips to the side to face him.

“You mean it Kacchan? I can pick?”

They speak as if you’re not alive, no feelings or humanity involved. All you can do is watch and yell into your makeshift gag as the blond waves him off.

“Go for it. It’s your first time satisfying that sick head of yours, ‘must get boring doing it from behind a screen all the time.”

His slowly turns to face you, a kind leer etched across his features, eyebrows slanted and hand coming up to pull your ripped clothes apart.

You struggle and spit muffled profanities out as he slowly drags the bridge of your bra down, eyes wide open as your nipples pop out and eventually both of your tits bounce out.

He hisses and takes his nails up your stomach to fondle your breast. You can tell Deku’s too excited, too inexperienced from the way he handles them like stress balls. You grunt as his mouth latches onto a pert nipple, suckling and looking up at you as if he were some kind of demonic baby.

Bakugo watches all this with a dark glint in his eyes, absentmindedly palming himself as he watches the show unfold in front of him.

It’s entertaining seeing all of the creep’s hormones spiral out of control from years of pent-up lust. He’s never seen the dork so fired up and hungry, he’s never seen him so brutal with a civilian before, the type of people he used to say he’d protect at all costs.

After he’s done playing with your sore tits, he wasted no time in yanking your sweats off. You don’t even trash around anymore, the only thing you’re capable of in this state of terror and shock is weak moans and little sobs, maybe a writhe or two here and there.

Your panties are also torn off and you howl when the elastic cuts into your skin within the process. Bakugo takes this last stripping as an indication for him to move now. He lifts himself up on his knees and moves around your head while Deku situates himself between your violently twitching legs.

“I’m gonna take the gag out now. If you scream or pull any funny business I’ll plug your pussy and your throat with this knife, got it?” He snatches the weapon from the bed and waves it dangerously close to your face.

You nod frantically and try to turn your head to the side, but he yanks you back into place and decides to have his own fun.

While Izuku hurriedly takes his own shorts off the hothead slowly takes the tape off your mouth, staring down at you with unblinking eyes. The knife which you’re so afraid of is traced around your own squeezed shut eyes, down your cheeks and around your lips.

But the horrified trance on which he keeps you in is broken when Izuku suddenly shoved his entire length inside your dry cavern.

Luckily Bakugo has enough foresight to slam a hand over your howling mouth before the entire building can be woken up, and he glares at the sheepish-looking man down the bed from him.

“Are you a fucking virgin? At least rub her clit or something so she doesn’t go hollering at every thrust you damn nerd!”

The man between your legs winces and rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“Oops, sorry, got a little carried away there.”

He doesn’t pull out, he merely thrusts slower, trying to fit his fat dick inside your unwilling cunt.

A string of curses leaves your lips and you grimace as the pain becomes near blinding.

Bakugo looks down at you again, the knife forgotten.

“No teeth either.” Your breaths come out in little frantic pants when his bare cock springs out of his own pants.

He taps the leaking purple tip on your lips and you open hesitantly. There’s no point in resisting anymore, they’ve got you quite literally cornered.

“Wider, slut,” he snarls, and you do-but only because Deku’s paps get more aggressive, causing your mouth to fall open in a long whine.

The blond takes this opportunity to slam his length down your throat, groaning around when he sees your throat swell with his bulge.

You immediately start gagging and trying to pull at your restraints for air, his heavy balls rest right on top of your nose and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

You can barely hear him over Deku’s animalistic grunts and whines. He’s going way too fast, as if he’s possessed by your pussy. It numbs you, taking away some of the pain in a flip side.

But on the other end of your body, you’re desperate for air while a fuzzy ballsack paps against your nose and eyes.

Each sadistic stroke he puts inside of you widens your sore esophagus, bringing bile up sometimes and large amounts of saliva too.

He’s not as loud as Deku, but he’s equally as greedy with your holes.

Your body literally hovers up almost in midair as Bakugo thrusts in and lifts his hips up, taking your upper half along with it and Deku does the same unconsciously, trying to fuck up into your womb.

It’s an exact replica of a perverted spit roast, with both of them catching each other’s rhythm and slamming inside your holes at the same time.

Your clit is suddenly rubbed inexpertly to the point of overstimulation, and the incoming sob forced out of your throat warps into a pained scream.

The vibrations of your scream makes Bakugo cum suddenly with a hoarse groan. He doubled over your body and gnaws at your bouncing tits, licking and teething at them the same way his counterpart did.

The sight of copious amounts of cum being leaked out of your filled mouth propels the green-haired man to whimper and shove himself back in one more time, hitting your cervix and causing both his and your eyes to roll back.

He cums too, but both men keep their semi-hard cocks inside of your aching body.

You don’t know what’s worse, having both of them by your side or both of them inside.

[gingersnaaps]

untouchable

keishin just can't stand the thought of anyone else being your first.

wc: ~2.5k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, alcohol, corruption of innocence, virgin!reader, mild misogyny, possessive ukai, masturbation, fingering, teasing, friends to lovers but fucked up, fem!reader with inner genitals

a/n: written for @seita and their collab! also i probably fucked up the characterization but oh well

i don't want minors interacting with my content

To Keishin, you’ve always been untouchable.

He’d grown up alongside you - seen you go from your pretty pigtails to your grown-up bob, watched you turn from a schoolgirl into a woman. And through all those years, he’d always thought you were beautiful in the way that spring flowers are, all soft and sweet and dewy, your expression dripping innocence.

You’re pure. Unblemished. Perfect.

But that doesn’t mean he’s never admired from afar.

He almost hates it, these urges he gets. Keishin sees your stupid Instagram posts, your Facebook updates - in fact, he’s practically inundated with photos of you. He can’t escape the pictures of you in your summer skirts, grinning cheekily and holding up a peace sign, or the ones of you in your sundresses, the fabric lightweight and loose, cascading over your body in ripples.

And sometimes, after spending a few hours with you in person - maybe at a concert, maybe just catching up with you as friends - these urges he gets are too much for him to control, too much for just a cold shower to tamp down. He’ll lay his head back against his pillow, groaning in relief as he palms him cock, guilt gnawing him raw as he strokes himself to thoughts of the soft swell of your breasts, the barest brush of your hand - every exposed bit of your skin that he can conjure from his memory.

He always gets this empty feeling in the pit of his stomach after.

Keishin will reprimand himself, muttering about how creepy it is, how wrong it feels, how he’ll never do it again, but soon enough, he’s seeing your pictures all over his feed again, and you’re inviting him to some new outing.

He knows it’s not right, but he can’t really stop himself, either.

So when you call him up just days later, giggling and chatting his ear off about some new amazing discount at this local bar - look, Keishin, I promise it’s not far - going on and on about how he should join you in celebrating your latest raise at work, a wave of nausea sweeps over him. He should say no. He should make up some vague excuse, awkwardly laughing, brushing off your invitation while promising to make it up to you.

But it’s just been so long since he’s seen you.

He clears his throat, and his voice comes out dry and a little unsure on the other end. “Yeah. Yeah - I can go. See you there, [y/n], okay? Take care.”

Keishin hangs up the phone with a click before you even get a chance to respond, his hand unsteady and trembling.

-

He gets there before you do.

His fingers drum nervously against the tabletops, eyes scanning above the sea of overdressed, garish bargoers, looking around for any sign of you. It’s hard to make out faces among the crowd, all finer features clouded by the smoke and mirrors that dim lighting creates, but he’s looked at you enough times to be able to tell you apart with his eyes closed.

“Hey,” your voice greets, pressed close to his left side. “Never been to a bar before or what? Just relax, Keishin. We’re here to have a good time, right?”

He startles at your sudden appearance, flinching slightly. “Right,” he responds, a smile tugging at his lips.

He beckons the bartender over, ordering a few drinks, and you get settled into a routine of easy conversation. It doesn’t take long for you to get woozy, alcohol flooding your system as your cheeks flush and vision blurs. It loosens your tongue, loosens your wallet, and before long, you start losing track of the time of the drinks you order. All you know is that it feels good to let go, to lose yourself in the light-headed headspace you’ve found yourself in, the kaleidoscope of people around you dissolving until indistinguishable, walling off the rest of the world from just the two of you.

If Keishin’s going to be completely honest, though, he’s not really paying attention to what you're saying.

He’s paying attention to the men around you.

Maybe he’s just being paranoid, but he could swear that half the bar is leering at you, eyes following every movement of your body in ways that are absolutely unacceptable. He’s not an idiot. He knows what those other guys are thinking about; he knows how their dicks are straining in their fucking pants, how their thoughts must be wandering, he knows because he’s been there before.

Because even in the middle of a bar, surrounded by debauchery and alcohol and sluts, you look absolutely angelic. The halo of hair around your head looks so, so soft - he wants to stroke it, kiss it, use it as a handle to maneuver you around for him - and suddenly he’s consumed by thoughts of how much he wants to be the one to force you down around his cock, choking and sobbing, how much he wants to smear his cum on your gorgeous face and ruin you before anyone else can get to it. He can’t tear his gaze away from you as you shift closer, wobbling on your stool, completely oblivious to the way everyone else’s eyes are undressing you.

He knows you’re not doing this on purpose. You can’t be, no matter how many times you wiggle your ass on the bar stool, no matter how far up your thigh the hem of your skirt rides up. You wouldn’t tempt others like that. You’re just not that type of girl - you’re innocent, so open and guileless - you would never.

Keishin isn’t going to let anyone else fuck that up for him.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before some sleazy man comes along, his hands groping at your body, mouth whispering sinful words into your ear, and the mere thought makes him shudder with revulsion.

No, if anyone is going to wreck you, it’s going to be him.

When you eventually get too drunk, words slurring and half delirious, he catches you in his arms and leads you stumbling back to his own car. He revels in how peaceful you look with your eyes lidded with fatigue, clinging onto his arm as he drives back to his apartment.

He takes you inside with him.

“K-Keishin..” you mutter. “Where are we?”

He shushes you softly, carrying you to his off-white bedroom of popcorn ceilings and peeling wallpaper, of warm lights dimmed low and an eerie silence that suspends your surroundings in stillness. Laying you down on his half-made bed, he tenderly brushes aside the hair that frames your face as he crawls on top of you.

“I’m taking care of you, baby.”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion at his pet name, but your mind is still too woozy to fully comprehend the meaning behind his words.

But even a drunk girl like you knows that something’s not right when warm, calloused fingertips reach beneath your skirt and slip under the hem of your panties. You instinctively flinch away from his touch, trying to close your legs back up, but he brings a knee up between your thighs to rest at your cunt.

“Please,” you whisper, sobered from the rush of dread that runs tingling down your spine. “Please, Keishin. We’re friends.”

He ignores you, pressing down on your cunt until you’re squirming beneath him, his gaze softening as your breath hitches with desperation. “You don’t have to worry. I’m gonna make this virgin cunt feel so good,” he breathes. “Gonna show you just what real sex is supposed to feel like.”

He presses his lips to yours, his kiss gentle yet insistent, lips and wet tongue probing your mouth as if he’s trying to pry you apart and open you up. You can taste the alcohol on his hot breath, puffing lightly along your jaw as he trails his mouth further down, dragging his kisses sloppily down the crook of neck to where it meets your collarbone.

You tell yourself that it’s gross, that it’s overwhelming, but it’s impossible to hide the way your clit throbs against him as he flicks his tongue out to tease at your sensitive nipples, a moan almost involuntarily slipping from your lips. His mouth curls into a playful grin, teeth scraping roughly against your tits, and brings up the palm of his hand to cup your pussy.

“See?” he says. “This feels good.”

You cringe at his words, desperately bucking away from his touch, but there’s nowhere left for you to go - one arm cages in your small, frail body, the other strokes at your clit through the fabric of your panties, his mouth is sucking and nipping at the soft flesh of your tits - he’s everywhere, drawing patterns across your skin with lips and tongue, tracing feather-light circles on your pussy until you feel that desire in your cunt pulsing with need. “No,” you whimper quietly, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. “No, it doesn’t.”

Keishin ignores your weak protests, because he’s much too fixated on the way you look spread out beneath him. He didn’t think he’d ever get to see you this debauched, a flush riding high on your cheeks as you turn your head away in embarrassment, your hips bucking needily into his waiting hand, hair mussed and pupils blown out with lust.

You’re not the same girl he used to idolize, now that he’s seen you like this.

“I wonder how tight your pussy is,” he muses. “It hasn’t been tainted, right? Except for when you’ve touched yourself.”

Now there’s a sight he wants to see.

He withdraws from between your legs, but he moves his large hands to pry at your thighs and hold you in place. “I want you to do it for me,” he orders. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

You feel so fucking vulnerable in this position, legs forced apart and your glistening cunt bared to his hungry gaze, completely at the mercy of his whims and fancies, your body gone almost limp with fear at the thought of what he could do.

So you follow his directions like a good little girl.

You reach a finger to the entrance of your cunt, but the angle is awkward, and when you shove it inside, you’re barely able to feel even an inch of stretch. It’s frustrating, embarrassing, humiliating to be so helpless in front of Keishin, but you swallow the shame and begin to roughly thrust a finger in and out of your dry hole, even when the ache in your cunt is screaming for something much bigger - much more satisfying - to fill you up and satiate the need throbbing in your pussy.

He clicks his tongue mockingly. “Not good enough?” he asks. Keishin can tell from the pained expression on your face, from the slight twitching of your hips every time your stubby fingers brush against your g-spot, even though your face is turned away from him, and he knows what you’re really asking for with your panting and whining.

You’re asking for him.

Sweetheart, he’s more than okay with teaching you how to do it properly.

He moves your cramped hand away from its pathetic attempt at satisfying you, bringing a thumb up to rest at your clit, relishing at the way it pulses with need after just a few light circles. “More?” he asks.

Guilt is written all over your features, your eyes darting away, fingertips curling to grip at his sheets as he presses down more firmly. The twinge of stimulation sends white-hot arousal rushing to your cunt, your brain becoming hazy and unfocused, and the only thing you can think about is wanting more, more stimulation, more of his soothing words whispered in your ear, more of his deft touches and long, thick fingers.

“Mhm,” you whimper quietly. “Yes.”

Keishin stops the movement of his thumb, the warm palm of his hand resting against your throbbing clit. “More of what?”

You shake your head, embarrassment seeping into your veins. You don’t want to say it. You can’t say it.

He dips a finger into your cunt, teasing at the entrance before trailing light, soft touches up and down your folds. “Use your words, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Please,” you beg, desperation written across your face. “Touch me.”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” he asks, malice glinting in his eyes. He wants to hear you say those filthy words, wants his precious, innocent best friend to beg him to do the things he’d only ever dreamed of.

“My…” you trail off, eyes now hazy and unfocused as you blink back tears. “My pussy. Want your fingers inside my pussy.”

What a good girl.

“Knew you could do it for me,” he growls, slipping his finger deeper into your twitching hole. “When you want something, you have to learn to ask for it.”

He doesn’t hold back now, adding another thick finger inside to stroke and pet at your sensitive walls, pressing up against your g-spot firmly as his thumb rubs steady, even circles on your clit. The stimulation comes crashing down like a wave of relief for your sore, aching hole, his fingers playing with your cunt better than you ever could, reaching deeper inside you, stretching you out further, making you cream around his skilled digits until your hole is left fluttering and fucked out.

You barely have the energy to resist when he pulls out his cock, painfully hard and leaking, and fits it to the entrance of your pussy. He pushes in slowly, gently, his deliberate movement a facade of tenderness, stretching you out until the pleasure pulsing in your core becomes almost unbearable from how unhurried he’s fucking you.

“Holy shit,” he says, swearing under his breath. Keishin wishes all the other undeserving men at the bar could see you now, sprawled out on his bed like his own personal fuckdoll, your eyes rolled back into your head, gasping and moaning as he breaks in your virgin cunt. He knows he’s fucking you better than any other man ever could, wrecking you in ways you’ll think about years in future when you close the blinds and dim the lights and slip a hand between your legs.

And as he finishes, groaning in pleasure as the waves of an orgasm wash over him, he pulls out of your slippery cunt and watches as his thick spurts of cum land all over the soft, smooth skin of your chest and stomach, marking you as his.

You look so beautiful painted white.

No, maybe beautiful is the wrong word. You’d always been so pure in his eyes, so clean and untouchable, but looking down at your quivering form, he begins to finally see what he’d been to blind to all along. For the first time, he sees how slutty your tits are covered in his cum, how they’re almost pushed up to your chin when you’re lying on your back. When he squeezes at your thighs, your ass, your waist, the excess flesh spills over in all the places that make you perfect for fucking.

You’re not innocent anymore, he realizes with a sense of twisted satisfaction. Not after this.

You’ve been ruined, haven’t you?

if you enjoyed this, please reblog or just drop by my inbox to say hi!

[rayslittlekitten]

The Little Sister

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

A/N: Okay. This is long as fuck compared to the other parts and hope you enjoy this fun and sweet smut. I honestly had to much fun writing this, probably the part leading up to the sex more so than the actual sex.

Also almost forgot, this is for this week’s Writer Wednesday as well. I knew when I saw the photo prompt that this would be a Ray story.

RATING: E (18+ONLY)

Word Count: 3.2k+

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!reader/OFC

Contains: protected sex (p in v), almost unprotected p in v sex, oral (F and M receiving), a lot of sweet and playful flirting, also might contain some grammatical/spelling errors (it’s 2:30AM and I’m not about to re-read all this)

Photo Prompt:

You spent your time doing absolutely fuck all at the pub until you got so bored that you started helping Bob out with some mundane tasks while Bunny watched you more intently. Bob was not comfortable at first but you swore to him that he wouldn't get in any trouble and that you would take all the responsibility if Ray or Mickey had any issues with it.

You were even tempted to start serving people just so you can have some human interaction, but that's where Bob drew the line. The head cook also kicked you out of the kitchen because you were asking too many questions and starting to get in the way. 

You've had the hustle and bustle experience of being a waitress, hostess and other odd jobs in the service industry while going to school in New York City. Ros and Mickey would always send you money if you needed any without any question but you wanted to earn your own spending money. 

You're now in the seat Ray usually sits in at the corner of the back room with your feet propped up on the desk and chair slightly tilted back and you're using your weight to balance it on its back legs. It's not quite the dinner rush yet so the room is still closed off to the public. You take out your phone for the millionth time today and scroll through your social media like you're expecting to find something new, as if opening the boring fridge again when wanting a snack after having done it so many times, each try with lowered expectations.

You scoff when you see a picture of Ashley and Brad together looking all cheery.

"What a cunt," you mumble. You're tempted to post a nasty comment, but you're interrupted by a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown: "Are you still at the pub?"

You look at the text for a moment and to be sure, you compare the number to the business card Ray gave you and it matches. You save Ray's number into your phone.

You: "Yes. 🙂"

You see the three dots on your text app bouncing, waiting for his reply.

Ray: "You better not be lying to me or there will be consequences."

You: "Oh yeah? What kind of consequences? 😏"

"The kind of consequences where Bunny and Frazier will take you home and watch you to make sure you don't go anywhere without either one of them and I go home by myself."

You shriek and nearly fall back but the chair is stopped by something behind you. You quickly swing your feet down to the floor and the chair falls forward with all four legs planting onto the ground as it should be. You turn around and look up to see Ray with his hand on the back of the chair.

"Jesus Christ, would you stop sneaking up on me like that?" You have you hand over your chest as you can feel your sudden increased heartbeat.

"Lesson one: always be aware of your surroundings," Ray says.

"Also, lesson two: don't focus your energy on people and things that aren't worth your time." Ray grabs your phone from you and blocks Ashley and Brad's social media accounts and then hands your phone back to you. You roll your eyes at him.

"Are we ready to go now?" you ask. "I've been in this bloody pub for so long, I can probably run it by now."

"Do you want to run it?" Ray asks curiously.

You look at him like he's speaking a language you do not understand at all as you're trying to process his question.

"Are you... asking me to run it?" You tilt your head.

"No, I'm asking if you'd ever be interested in running it, but that conversation can be had when Michael and Rosalind gets back. Right now, I'm going to make sure you not running anywhere." Ray reaches his hand to your face and pinches your chin. "Come on, let's go. My car's out back."

You excitedly jump out of the chair and he gestures with his hand for you to walk in front of him. You feel his hand on your lower back as he guides you to his car. He's already called off Bunny, telling him he's going to watch you for the night and had Bunny take care of Ros's car.

The car ride back to his place was fairly quiet, aside from small talk, like you're both having an impromptu awkward first date. You're so nervous and excited all at the same time. Thankfully it's not a really long car ride. After Ray pulls his car into the drive way, you step outside the car and look around. His house isn't as big as Mickey and Ros's but it's still a very big especially for one person. You follow Ray to the front door and after unlocking it, he lets you in first. As you walk in, Ray switches on the light. You walk further into the house and take in everything.

"Would you like something to drink?" Ray asks as he walks past you into the kitchen.

"I'm fine, thank you." You continue to look around, admiring the open kitchen before heading over to the living room and dining room. 

"You live all by yourself in this large house?" you ask him, running your hand over the top of the smooth leather couches.

"Yes, I do." Ray pours himself two fingers of whiskey.

"Don't you get lonely?" You walk over to the patio doors and take a peek outside.

"Well, most days I'm only home to shower and sleep anyways."

You sense Ray walking up right behind you before you even notice him in the reflection of the patio door and feel butterflies suddenly fluttering away in your belly.

"You know, I think I will 'ave that drink," you tell him without turning around. "I'll 'ave whatever you're 'aving."

As Ray is about to say something, his phone goes off.

"Just a minute. Here, you can have mine. I haven't touched it yet." Ray hands you his glass of whiskey and walks away before answering his phone. "Yes, boss?"

You take a large gulp of the expensive whiskey and let it surprisingly not let it burn your throat. It's actually quite smooth and you're impressed by it. You look around and don't see Ray. You can hear him from a distance though. You start exploring the house further more. You peek into a room and see it’s the bathroom. You enter another open room and the colors and furniture are similar to the ones in the living room.  There's a lot of dark browns and with some grays and blues. It looks like some sort of sitting room or study. Maybe his office. It's quite lovely. His book collection gets your attention and you scan through them. You walk over to the couch by the window and sit down, looking up at the second level where there are walls of shelves lined up on each side.

"Y/N?"

You hear Ray calling out for you.

"In 'ere!" You respond loudly.

Shortly after, Ray comes strolling into the room.

"Is everything alright?" You look over to Ray and he's not just holding another glass of whiskey, but you notice he's taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

"Everything is fine. Michael just wanted an update on some business related things." Ray walks over to you and sits next to you.

"So...” You take another gulp of the whiskey. “When are we going to…“ you wave your hand in front of you. “You know.”

“When are we going to what?” Ray pushes his glasses up and looks at you strangely.

“You said if I promised you to stay in the pub til you got back you’d take me ‘ome with you,” you remind him.

“And you’re here now, aren’t you?” Ray takes a sip of his whiskey.

You open your mouth to say something but you’re flabbergasted. That cheeky bastard.

“But you… I thought…” You don’t even know what to say. You feel like the fool now. “Oh my God!” You cover your face with your hand.

Ray reaches over for your whiskey glass and places both his and yours on the coffee table next to the two of you.

“Lesson three: be mindful of people's words.”

Ray pulls your hand away from your face. You look at him and don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You’ve already had a really rough week and this is just the cherry on top of the mountain of shit you don’t need.

Ray smirks and then leans in to kiss you.

You are completely thrown off and confused now. Was he teaching you a lesson or just messing with you? Either way, Ray is still a cheeky bastard. You want to hit him for what he did but you’re just happy you’re finally getting what you want right now.

You hungrily kiss back and feel Ray’s hands on your waist pulling you in closer to him. You put your hands on his shoulders and climb on top of him, pushing him back against the couch to straddle him. You cradle his bearded jaw and deepen the kiss, licking his tongue and teeth. You can taste and smell the whiskey on him. He flicks his tongue into your mouth and you suck on it. His hands slide down to your ass and squeezes it.

You pull away from him to get some air and rest your forehead on his.

“I was two seconds away from slapping you for fucking with me,” you pant.

“You should have done it. I might’ve liked it.” Ray brushes his lips against yours.

“Oh, you like getting slapped around, huh? That’s why you’re Mickey’s lit’el bitch?” you giggle.

Ray smirks.

“Lesson four: assess the situation and know your limitations before taking action.”

Ray grabs your waist and pushes you down onto your back on the couch, pinning your wrists above your head and settling his hips between your legs.

The sex hasn’t even started yet and this is already by far the hottest thing you have ever experienced. Ray smashes his lips against yours and grinds himself against you. You’re pretty sure this time it’s not a gun. His beard rubs against your face and can feel the bottom of it tickling your neck as moves his mouth to your jaw and then to your neck. You feel his teeth dragging across your skin and then replacing it with the softness of his tongue, soothing his bites. Ray releases your wrists and brings his hands down to grab the bottom of your shirt and pull it up over your head, removing it and tossing it aside. He immediately pulls the cups of your bra down and latches onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it and sucking on it. You arch your back up, wanting more – no, needing more. It feels like there’s an ocean between your legs and your panties and jeans acting as a dam is going to break.

Ray moves his attention to your other nipple and you run your fingers through his blonde slick hair.

“Ray,” you breathe out. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”

Ray looks up at you and releases your nipple with a pop. He smirks and sits back on the couch, lifting your legs and resting them on his lap. He starts removing your shoes.

“Lesson five: patience is—“

“Ray, I’m going to fucking lose it if you don’t get your cock inside me now!” You look down at him. “Inside me fanny,” you quickly correct yourself in case he had other ideas, although you wouldn’t mind sucking him off.

After removing your second shoe, he reaches up for the top of your jeans and start unbuttoning and unzipping them.

“What’s the rush, love? We’ve got all night.” Ray hooks his fingers to each side of your jeans and pulls them down along with your panties over your hips until they reach your ankle. You shimmy the rest off and kick them off to the side.

“I can’t hold it anymore,” you moan.

Ray brings one of your ankles up to his lips and he starts placing butterflies kiss on it, then makes his way up the inside of your leg before finally reaching your dripping core. He watches you as he swipes the flat of his tongue over it, lapping up a healthy serving of your juices, making your hips buck.

“Lesson six: never show all your cards.”

Ray slips two fingers inside you and you swear you are going to cum in two pumps. He slides them in and out of you painfully slow. He presses his tongue on your clit, circling it before pulling it between his lip and sucking on it. You grind your hips against his fingers, hoping to get more friction. You can feel your orgasm simmering as Ray’s mouth draws more blood to your bundle of nerves. His fingertips inside you concentrate on a soft spot and you feel like you’re going to explode. The only sounds in the room are your heavy pants and Ray’s fingers moving in and out of your soaked canal. You bite your lip as you concentrate on your release as you get near it.

“Fuck! Ray…” your hips thrust rhythmically against his face until suddenly the sensation disappears. “Ray!” You look down at him and he’s sitting up on the couch and sucking on the fingers that were inside you, then swiping his hand over his beard.

“What the ‘ell?!” you ask, extremely frustrated. “If you start your next sentence with the word ‘lesson’—“

Ray laughs.

“This isn’t funny, Ray! I’m ‘ere naked and horny and you’re torturing me!” You sit up and kneel on the couch.

“I don’t mean to laugh at you,” Ray continues to laugh. “You’re just so adorable when you’re all worked up.”

You can’t help but smile. You glance down at the bulge in his jean and straddle him again. You lean down and kiss him, tasting yourself on him. Your hands reach down and start unbuckling his belt, quickly working to get his jeans off of him. Ray’s hands run up and down the sides of your body as you reach inside his jeans. He moans into your mouth as you stroke him. He feels like a big one, but honestly if his fingers were close to getting you off, anything bigger than his fingers would do at the moment. Ray pulls his hands away from you to push his jeans and boxers down below his hips and you pull his cock free. You stroke it a little more before rubbing the tip against your opening.

“Y/N,” your name strained in his voice. “I don’t have a rubber here. We have to go to my bedroom for it.” Ray nibbles on your bottom lip.

“Just the tip?” you moan against his mouth.

“I can promise you it will not be just the tip if it goes in.” Ray knows his limit and at this moment, his self-control is pretty low. “Come on, sweetheart, my bedroom is close by. Let’s just get there before we do something we might regret.”

You are tempted to just sink yourself over him and deal with any consequences later if there are any. You’re that desperate right now.

“But it feels so good,” you pant as you continue to rub the tip of his cock on your clit and at times dangerously close to your entrance, applying the slightest pressure. You can even feel Ray gently pushing up against you.

Ray’s phone suddenly goes off.

“Fuck!” Ray grits his teeth and throws his head back against the back of the couch. Ray gently pushes you off of him and reaches for his phone inside his jean pocket.

“Yes, boss!” he answers, a little more aggressive than he intended. “No, I uh,” Ray swallows the excess saliva in his mouth. “I just almost spilled something, is all. Is everything alright?”

You decide to get a little even and drop down to your knees between Ray’s legs. Ray’s eyes open wide as he makes eye contact with you as you grab a hold of his cock and you slide your mouth over it.

“Check up on Y/N? S-sure I can do that.” Ray closes his eyes and balls his free hand into a fist as you run your tongue and lips up and down his length. “No, I’ll-I’ll check on her in the morning. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. I’ll make sure she’s in good hands.” Ray digs his fingers into your scalp as he watches you deep throat him. “You and Rosalind have a good night as well,” he quickly hangs up and then pulls you up. “Bedroom. NOW!”

He grabs your hand in his and leads you to his bedroom. When you both reach it, he goes to his rubber stash and pulls one out, then frantically strips his clothes off. The whole time, you’re lying back on his bed while you watch him. For a man who doesn’t seem to work out, he seems to be in pretty good shape.

Ray slips the rubber over himself and then immediately climbs into the bed and hovers over you, aligning himself with you. Without warning he pushes into you to the hilt and you gasp at the sensation. He pulls back and then shoves himself back in all the way. He watches your face as he fucks you. The sounds he’s pulling out of you drives him crazy.

“Fuck, Ray, you feel so good!” you moan.

Your praise encourages him to reach deeper. He pushes your legs up, hooking them over his elbows and then pounds into you harder.

“Oh, shit!” you feel your orgasm reaching its peak and you cry out, letting it take over your whole body. You’ve never quite had an orgasm like this before, not even through masturbation. You are seeing stars.

“You alright there, love?” Ray asks, adjusting his glasses. You look at him and nod with the silliest smile on your face. “Good, because I’m not done with you.”

Ray flips you over and pulls your hip back before sinking himself back into you, holding on your hip and thrusting in and out of you again. Your ass is bouncing against his upper thighs as his balls are slapping against your clit, hard and loud. You can’t believe you feel another orgasm brewing. You feel Ray’s hand slip between the front of your legs and he starts rubbing your clit as he fucks you from behind. Your legs starts trembling and you cry out, riding the orgasm. Ray continues to drive into you until he moans and you feel him twitching inside of you. His pace slows down to a stop.

The room is now filled with nothing but your pants and heavy breathing. Ray pulls out of you and lays down on his back next to you as he tries to even out his breathing. He turns his head to look over at you and you smile at him as you also try to get your own breathing back to normal. Ray reaches over with his hand to cradle your jaw and caress your cheek with this thumb. You both look at each other for a few moments and then Ray scoots closer to you and leans in to kiss you.

[luckyasfuck]

maybe i just wanna be yours [k. bakugou]

A CAMBOY AU SERIES - PARTS 1, 2, [3], 4, 5

pairing // katsuki x female reader

tw // cussing, smut

warnings for this part // (kinda?) mutual masturbation

theme // enemies to lovers au, camboy!katsu au, college student!katsu and reader au, no quirk au

keys // y/n, l/n, h/c

words // 1.8k

a/n // pt. 4 will be written at 100 likes and posted at 5-10 reblogs :). i’m glad ya’ll are enjoying it, send criticism and/or ideas in my inbox.

previous part I masterlist

y/n’s head was no longer cloudy.

it scared her at first,  her twitter username and bio must have gave it all away. part of her hoped that katsuki wouldn’t notice the notification, and if he did, well she hopes he’d be too dumb or oblivious to know it was her. but of course, bakugou fucking katsuki wasn’t like that. y/n would know, especially when she woke up him following her back.

fucking son of a bitch.

it was very obvious that it was katsuki. from his voice during lives to his demeanor with his posts: reserved. it was a bitch to think about, no matter what y/n did it was all that occupied her mind. she was aware of the comments she had left on his last live, her other hand too busy pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy to make more than two. that’s what bothered her. not only did she get off to her rival of all people, she did it twice. twice!

she thought about it the whole morning as she reached UA. a person came from behind and bumped her shoulder, rushing to the group of people crowding the main gate. y/n knotted her eyebrows, her mind was too all over the place to know what they could have been fussing about.

the crowd completely blocked the gate and she sighed, opting to take another route until someone grabbed her arm. thinking it was a teacher or a student, she turned around with a smile.

what the fuck.

katsuki stood there gripping her arm and her heart dropped. she yanks his hand away and glared at him, goddamn if looks could kill katsuki would’ve made it to heaven right about now. she stared at him with so much intensity, it almost looked like she was gonna go crazy over the fact that he stopped her, let alone even touch her.

fuck, that’s hot. katsuki gulped and mentally slapped himself after the thought. “don’t let the teachers see you-” he whispered, looking around. y/n sighed, “too late.” she looked behind him where their Biology professor stood with a smile.

“good morning, kids! i’m glad i found you two together, which is um... quite new, don’t you think?” the old woman greeted. katsuki rolled his eyes before facing her, standing beside y/n.

the h/c-haired girl didn’t like being near him at all, he had this weird aura and she didn’t know what his intentions were at all. and him approaching her for the first time without being forced by a professor after the shenanigans of last night? way too timed to be a coincidence, though she wishes it was. 

“if you don’t know yet, our school’s competing with others schools with this little competition our school made.” the old woman got straight to the point. “the competition is that weekly for this month, a duo would take a quiz on a specific subject together. the subject changes every week and the questions get harder and harder! the 5 duos with the lowest scores are eliminated. it’s said on the board right there!” she pointed to where the students crowded.

“um, okay...? why are you telling us this then?” y/n questioned, adjusting her grip on her bag as the professor smiled again whilst katsuki breathed out a loud sigh. 

“i want you both to be the duo that represents our school!”

“miss-” katsuki started, but got cut off. “don’t you think we’re the worst duo for this? i mean,” y/n laughed sarcastically. “you know we hate each other, everyone fucking knows tha-”

“language, miss l/n.” the professor’s sternly scolded and y/n flinches a bit at the change of mood. “yes, ma’am.” the younger girl looked down on her shoes. “i think it’s a good opportunity for the two of you,” the old woman pointed to the two students. “to get along. you two are really gifted, and i don’t want our school to lose this or get humiliated just because you two have beef with each other for reasons unknown.”

y/n was sweating under her jacket and she gulped as the woman walked away, letting them know her decision was final. katsuki breathed out a deep sigh, face-palming. “what are we gonna do now? knowing that bitch, she’ll tell everyone we said yes.”

y/n didn’t bother to argue with the blonde, she knew he was right. the crowd near the gate starts to disappear and she leaves without responding to katsuki. she doesn’t know where the fuck he got the confidence to talk to her so casually. more like she wished she didn’t know.

she knew that he knew.

and he knew that she knew too. 

so simple yet so complicated.

class dragged out and y/n hasn’t spared a single glance at katsuki. she’s done this almost everyday since she met him, so it was easy to do. if only he’d stop staring into her soul, knowing she can see him in the corner of her eye. 

katsuki’s always liked to stare, though he had nothing to stare at. and now he does, even he doesn’t like how much he’s staring. he’d snap out of it, curse himself and y/n too while he’s at it, then get caught in a daze while staring at her again. 

multiple teachers approached them and individually asked them about the competition, their answers were the same the whole time, a bland “yeah, we’re competing as the duo.”

the students sat in their last class, blabbering around and not caring anymore. it was the last class, after all. they were tired and wanted to go home, but of course, they can’t. at least not yet. y/n didn’t feel like listening, she was tired too. doodling in her notebook, her heart drops when the professor calls her name. fuck, i don’t know the answe-

“oh. and mister bakugou too. i think it’s for the competition, the principal wants you two.” the old male lets out an intrigued hum. “don’t you guys hate each other?” y/n and katsuki walked out the room silently, filling the room with embarrassment on the professors side. 

the female walked on the other end of the corridor, she didn’t like katsuki at all. his mere presence makes her gag, and she knows it’s the same for him too. that’s why they opted to stay as far away from each other as possible.

the ash blonde walks into the principal’s office with y/n hot on his trail. “take a seat.” the principal said, not looking up from his paperwork. “listen, you two. i heard a lot from teachers about how you compete with each other, but the both of you are the smartest duo here. all i want is for you two to study together and pass the quizzes as best as you can. you don’t even have to get along! and your grades will be perfect A+’s for the whole month, and if you win, maybe i’ll extend to a month more.”

y/n and katsuki’s eyes widened at the offer, it was so tempting. and education always came first before pride anyway. “fine, i’ll do it.” y/n was the first to speak while katsuki just nodded his head.

“it’s settled then.”

[ timeskip ]

y/n plopped down on her bed. the two of them got sent home early and were forced to share socials with each other. they were also granted permission to use the library whenever they wanted, and were given the schedule to study together from their last two classes until whenever they liked. and before going their separate ways, she told katsuki to text her a plan if he had one.

her phone dings and she automatically assumed it was him. and it was. just... a little more lewd. definitely not what she was expecting.

y/n cussed, “since when the fuck did i let this stupid fucking site give me notifications?” katsuki’s heavy breathing and occasional grunts boomed through her speaker and she hurried to click off it, until her eyes landed on his cock.

from what seemed like it, he had already cum once, the white liquid dripping from his slit down his lenght. y/n can’t seem to tear her eyes from the way he stroked his cock, so gentle yet so rushed, so... satisfying.

she shakes her head and kicks herself out of her absurd train of thoughts, thumb hovering over the ‘X’ on the top left of the site. “have you joined the live, pretty face?” she flinches when she heard his raspy voice, thighs unconciously rubbing together and panties already soaked. 

“i hope you have, fuck. been thinking about you all day, mhmm~ why don’t you drop your little comments for me?” she could practically hear the smirk in his words, and it irritated her. but fuck, if he wasn’t so attractive. his perfectly sculpted body, his voice, and that pretty cock. it was that fucking cock.

“are you touching yourself, pretty face? you better. this live’s all for you.” katsuki moaned out, stroking himself faster. y/n watched as the chat went crazy, all of them confessing their sins to him like he was some sort of God.

and maybe he was, cause she found herself running a finger through her wet folds as she watched the camboy play with his tip. she shoves a finger inside, moaning with him before moving in and out parallel to his strokes. 

katsuki comes again, his strokes coming to a half. he pants before smirking, “pretty face, lookie here.” he shows a fleshlight to the camera, his tip prodding at the toys entrance. y/n slowly adds another finger as he sunk the toy down onto his cock, both of them moaning.

they both fuck themselves into oblivion while thinking of each other, katsuki’s hips violently fucking into the toy as he hissed, “fuck, i bet your pussy feels a lot better.” y/n felt her cunt clench around her finger at the statement as she started to rub her clit as well. 

she orgasms a little bit before katsuki shot his load into the toy, both their movements halting as they tried to catch their breath. she types in a comment before finally exiting the site, feeling slightly disgusted of what she just did. she shudders and opts on taking a shower before napping.

“you dirty little thing.”

katsuki felt his cock twitch at y/n’s comment. he ended the live right after, knowing she probably left already. the notifications for money he hoarded sat heavy on his account and he smiled, cleaning himself up after. the image of her with her legs open, her fingers buried deep in her cunt and her moaning uncontrollably was all that filled katsuki’s brain.

and he fucking hates it. he hates how much power the desires of his cock had over him when he was horny.

and the only desire his cock had was her.

next part I masterlist

taglist:

@princesspeach-00 @tamakisropebunny @bakugous-mamas @ll379333 @j1-914 @gazelle-des-pres @trashpandainahat @dickinson-67 @victoriaestein @amelie-chan @your-worst-obsession [ cannot tag last two ]

[thearvariblues]

A Man of Easy Virtues

Just another ‘I’m so sorry but I couldn’t resist’ fics I wrote instead of, you know, doing the important things I should be doing.

This time it’s based on @likecastle‘s post about the kind of pants Jaskier should be wearing (and isn’t wearing, obviously) in the show and all the fanfics.

Warning for almost underage slutty bard (don��t worry, though, he’s eighteen, so definitely not a kid) and no Geralt in sight.

And yes, there will definitely be a part 2.

*

“You don’t understand,” Jaskier sighs and looks down at the tiny, fat tailor in front of him. “I just need a pair of pants that stays up without a hundred tiny ribbons.”

“They aren’t ribbons, young man,” the tailor says. “They are actually called–”

“I don’t care what they’re called. I don’t want them anywhere near me.”

“How would your pants stay up, then?” the tailor frowns.

“I don’t know. You’re the expert!”

The tailor sighs and lifts his hands to fix Jaskier’s partially unbuttoned doublet.

“Young man. How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Jaskier mutters.

“Eighteen,” the man repeats. “Are you aware, young man, that what you’re asking for is very inappropriate?”

“But very practical. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get into appropriate clothes when you’re in a hurry?”

“There are things you cannot hurry up, young man. This is one of them.”

“Have you ever tried telling that to an angry cuckold?”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Jaskier bites his lower lip. “Could you at least consider–”

“No.”

“I will pay you double–”

“Still no. There,” the man smiles, straightening Jaskier’s collar. “Much better now. Your chemise is meant to be hidden. You wouldn’t want people to think that you are a man of easy virtues, would you?”

“Oh, no,” Jaskier mutters. “That would be horrible…”

*

“Fuck, yes,” Jaskier moans as a pair of eager hands slip into his doublet. “Please.”

“Mhmh,” his lover’s deep voice answers, impatiently tugging at Jaskier’s chemise. “More skin. Right fucking now.”

“I actually don’t think,” Jaskier murmurs between the kisses, “that it will be possible to… Oh, yes.”

The hands slip lower and try to get into Jaskier’s pants. They don’t succeed. The man – the Witcher, for fuck’s sake – growls.

Which is fair, Jaskier assumes, because while the young student’s fingers are roaming freely over the scarred torso and firm buttocks, Jaskier is still fully clothed. And it is going to take forever before he’s naked.

“Drowner’s shrunken ball sack,” the Witcher swears, tugging at one of the points holding Jaskier’s clothes together. “I’d sooner get into a noonwraith’s rotting cunt than your asshole!”

“Yeah, it’s a little complicated, but if you let go for a little while–”

“Oh, fuck off,” the man grunts and before Jaskier even blinks, there’s a long knife in the man’s hand. And before Jaskier manages to open his mouth to protest, the man makes short work of all the points and unceremoniously throws Jaskier onto the bed, grinning.

“Well, fuck me,” Jaskier whispers, feeling his blood rush straight to his crotch (well, at least the tiny amount of blood that wasn’t there already).

“That’s the plan,” the man nods, cutting Jaskier’s chemise open. “The name’s Lambert, in case you forgot. Because I expect you to scream it until your voice is fucking raw.”

“Yes, sir,” Jaskier purrs.

The Witcher smiles.

“Good boy.”

*

“Melitele’s tits!” Jaskier swears, staring at his pants in disbelief.

Lambert lifts his head from the pillow and raises an eyebrow.

“Problem?” he asks.

“There is, actually. You completely ruined them!” Jaskier growls and throws his currently useless pants at him. “How the fuck am I supposed to get back home?”

“Oh, come on. I was careful not to cut anything but those motherfucking tiny ribbons. It’s not the end of the world. What do you need them for, anyway? I mean apart from driving potential lovers insane with lust.”

“Well, for nothing important. Just holding the fucking thing up,” Jaskier sighs and puts on his doublet, which is his only piece of clothing that’s intact. He’s slowly coming to terms with walking home with his ass bare. Again. Third time this week.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Lambert frowns. “Shit. Sorry, I guess. Would you like my spare pair?”

“Does it have the points, or did you cut them off when you urgently needed to take a shit?” Jaskier smirks.

“I honestly don’t know what the fuck are you even talking about.” Lambert gets up and after a few seconds of rummaging through his bag he pulls out a pair of worn-out leather pants and throws them to Jaskier. “Here. Take them. Guess what. They stay up on their own.”

“They… do?” Jaskier whispers, his eyes going comically wide.

“Honey, when werewolves attack your camp while your Cat Witcher boyfriend is balls-deep in your ass, you don’t have time to tie some fucking ribbons.”

“Cat Witcher…” Jaskier blinks.

As if on cue, the room’s door open and a lean, long-haired blond man rushes in, slams the door closed behind him and starts dragging a large chest in front of it.

“Oh, you’re done. Good,” he says to Lambert. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Aiden, I swear by Vesemir’s flaccid cock…” Lambert groans. “What did I ask you – no, beg you not to do tonight?!”

“I swear I didn’t cheat this time!” the man says, leaning with his full weight against the chest just as someone starts to bang on the door. “It’s not my fault I’m so fucking good at gwent, is it?”

“Good at gwent my ass. I could beat you drunk if you didn’t have another whole pack stuffed into your sleeves.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lambert. It’s not a whole pack. Just like… twenty cards or something, usually.” The man grins at Jaskier. The doorknob rattles. “Hey, Lambert’s fuck of the day. I’d suggest you start getting dressed.”

“Just how many did you manage to piss off this time?” Lambert asks, already pulling his shirt over his head.

“Not many. I could deal with them in a matter of seconds, but you always say your brother doesn’t like it when Witchers murder innocent citizens.”

“You mean my brother the fucking Butcher of Blaviken?” Lambert laughs.

Jaskier looks up from fastening his (well, Lambert’s) pants and gapes at the two Witchers.

“Your brother,” he whispers. “Your brother is Geralt of–”

“Not now,” Lambert says. “We’re in a bit of a hurry. Tell me, Jaskier, have you ever jumped out of a window before?”

“Four times just this week. Mostly to escape jealous husbands. A jealous wife, in one case.”

“Good,” Aiden nods, letting go of the chest supporting the door and grabbing his bag. “Let’s jump.”

*

The tiny, fat tailor is staring at the pair of worn-out black leather pants laid out in front of him with polite disgust.

“Not possible,” he says for the fifth time.

“Let’s be absolutely clear here,” Jaskier smiles and his voice holds just a hint of a promise of some very unpleasant things that could hypothetically happen to the tiny man. “Do you know my name?”

“No, young man, and I wouldn’t care even if you were–”

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove,” Jaskier says calmly.

“Oh,” the man replies and he suddenly seems even smaller than before.

“I am willing to pay you twice your usual fee–”

“Sir, what you’re requiring is outrageous–”

“Three times.”

“I couldn’t possibly sully the name of my shop with such an immodest–”

“Four times your usual fee, and an opportunity to start a fashion revolution.”

The man closes his eyes and nods slowly.

“Four times my usual fee. You can keep the revolution. It’s not as if you can find another man willing to wear something so scandalous…”

*

In a month, almost every young man in Oxenfurt (and several young women) wears the same model of pants Jaskier does. It’s much more comfortable, and also much easier to get into if you happen to get caught naked in a bed you shouldn’t be in, making it an instant hit among the students.

When Jaskier jumps, completely dressed, out of yet another window, this time running from a father whose two sons he just fucked into the bed, he thinks that he definitely has to thank Lambert and Aiden properly the next time he sees them.

Or any other Witcher he meets until then.

They basically saved his life, didn’t they?

[k3rm1e]

hey hey! it’s me 🥀 anon.. micheal x reader in 3rd grade ( being friends ofc:] ) 🙂 tommy’s daughter ( or gn reader any is cool😎 ) but reader beats up bully for making fun of micheal

friends

hey hey! it’s me 🥀 anon.. michael x reader in 3rd grade ( being friends ofc:] ) 🙂 tommy’s daughter ( or gn reader any is cool😎 ) but reader beats up bully for making fun of michael

hello 🥀 anon! apologies for the long wait, i have been doing things ;-;

but!!! i am here now with this so i hope you enjoy :D

cw: cursing 

friends:

  you hated him. you hated the small half-piglin half-zombie kid. it was unreasonable, he was your dad’s best friends’ kid. the infamous bench trio, with kids of their own. the legacy left behind, of fallen countries and terrible men, to fall on your shoulders.

  you always spoke with him. sat with him on the bus, at lunch, in class, sitting. talking. more of he spoke, you listened. even though the other students came to ask questions, they never stayed. the simple existence of two of you, two kids, with the parents you had was too much.

  the old stories of l’manburg, manburg, pogtopia, the infamous button room, the burnt mushroom house, the obsidian walls, logstedshire, the disc confrontation, pandora’s vault, all of it. every story, every tale, included your father. in history class you were stared at, you and the piglin boy. when students wanted to ask about the historical figures they learnt about, it was to the two of you. and you hated it.

  the attention, it was never on you. always him. whether it was from students, teachers, family, friends, hell, even the hecking sheep that belonged to the fading soul of a long gone man cared more for the kid. not even tommy, your father, paid more attention to you. he was always out, causing trouble even now. tubbo and ranboo, despite their efforts to keep michael safe, had somehow ended up with him becoming even more of a trouble maker than the three of them combined. you would much rather spend time with the fading soul, listening to his songs as you sat on the glass covering a crater. he claimed it gave him inspiration, to sit above the symphony he never finished.

  so, when you saw the small boy talking to others at lunch, you were conflicted. was it good, good he had gained more people, more friends? you never enjoyed sitting with him, having to listen to him speak for hours. he never even realized he was being annoying, causing trouble.  so, shouldn’t this have solved your problems? knocked them down the drain?

  and yet, you felt bad. staring at them on the playground, your soul hurt. you didn’t want to be like the fading soul, to feel like this. michael, turned to look behind him. the look on his face seeming like it was begging for you to walk over there. but you felt guilt. and so, you ran.

  “ghost!” you ran above the glass, making sure your steps weren’t too heavy footed.

  he looked up, from his sheet music and the guitar. “oh, hello. are you just getting back from school?” the area around was abandoned. after so many years of being near such a negative place, everyone left. deserted it. all that was left was the glass and the small, somehow still standing structures. at the very bottom of the pit was a sea of red, always growing but never moving, sitting dead yet alive.

  “yeah. it was a long day today. and i need advice. but first, do you have any music for me?” you sat in front of him, pulling out extra snacks from lunch out of your back.

  “music later, speak now. what’s wrong? do you need some blue?” anytime you seemed upset, ghost gave you blue. when tommy saw, he was nervous. more distant. you didn’t want him to see it, you didn’t want to drive him away. so, you used the dye for other things. your pants, your shirts hoodies, what ever could be dyed. all of it, a deep blue the color of old, burnt suits, used for a country few actually remembered.

  “no, no blue today, ghost. i still have some from last time, so thank you. and i need to ask a question. if i do not like someone, should i help them when they are in trouble?” you laid back, the cold of the glass hitting your neck.

  “it really depends, what has this person done? in the past, i’ve been wronged by others. heavily.” in his eyes, you could see the healing wounds that may never form, as he felt the blue wool in his hands. the memories of a father and a brother and a sheep, you could see them in the fading soul. 

  “i was helped, or at least he tried to help me. i didn’t like him. as far as my knowledge goes, he did not like me. he hurt those i loved. even so, he helped me. tried to save me. it backfired, badly. but he still tried. i owe him my gratitude, i wish i could repay him. for all he’s done.” he stared down, reminiscing. the ever living dying red shone in the setting sun.

  “so, to conclude, you should help him, in my opinion. i think its good, to help others, even when they’ve wronged you. build amends, y’know?” he looked down to you, who was sitting silently.

  “thanks ghost. can you play me something now?” you watched him sigh. you needed to think about what to do, how to go about this. slowly, you heard the faint sounds of a guitar begin.

  “the cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form…”

  in the morning, you were ready. at school you pestered michael to no end, speaking when he didn’t. he looked sad? here’s some blue dye my friend gave me , its supposed to make you happy! it’s even the same color of that sheep you like. when the older boys tried to approach him at lunch, you ran with him over to the swings.

  “michael, push me on the swings! after i’ll push you and we can try to knock each other off!” he pushed you higher and higher and higher. piglins are stronger than you expected.

  for weeks, it was like this. constant talking. michael, despite his usual talkativeness, was quiet. it was tuesday, and you couldn’t find him anywhere. what if those boys were rude to him? is he gonna get hurt? he may be strong, but he’s small. you found him surrounded by taller boys in the corner.

  “hey!” you screamed at them, inwardly terrified. dad had always said to be strong so be strong, ‘don’t be a pussy’ he would say (in a joking manner of course).

  “the hell you gonna do, shortie?” on of the boys turned around, laughing at you.

  “go away!” the boys chuckled again and you felt the anger flow through you. “fuck off you pussies! you cunts!” you screamed at them, using words you’ve heard your dad say. you pushed them over and grabbed michael’s hand. time to run. the boys chased you throughout the woods as you made your way to the location. once you reached the small forest clearing, they were gone. you started walking with him to the crater.

  michael was silent before looking at you. “... why’d you help me? i thought you hated me.”

  “i... i don’t hate you. not anymore at least! i was mad for dumb reasons and found you annoying because of that. but now, i know that its fine.” you tried to explain your self to him.

  “i always talked to you because i don’t like talking to others. i didn’t want you to feel lonely. i know uncle tommy doesn’t talk with you much. he gets nervous.”

  this was new information. “why does dad get nervous?”

  “i think it has something to do with his own dad. he might be scared of being like him, disappointing you.”

  “...oh. i’m sorry. for being bad to you.”

  “it’s okay. we’re friends now, right?” he looked over to you, smiling.

  you stared down at him. “yeah, yeah we are.” after some silent walking, you arrived at the crater. ghost was sitting on the glass.

  “ghost!” you ran to him, dragging michael with him. “ghost, this is michael. michael, this is ghost.” you proudly stood, making michael shake hands with him. he visibly cringed at the coldness of ghost’s hand.

  “oh, hello michael. would you like some blue?”

  you all sat, talking. you told michael about ghost’s guitar skills and the two of you forced him to play you songs. you were friends now, and it would stay that way.

  when the sun went down and you got home, your parents were pissed. your dad was on his knees, crying. he held you in a hug around your waist. “why are you crying?”

  “i was so worried about you. don’t do that shit to me again, okay?” you looked up at you and held your face in his hands.

  “...okay dad. okay.” you bent down and hugged him as the fading soul watched from a distance.

late post tonight aaaaa

y’know, i really need to stop going off track from asks just to write found family type fluff 

but nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed 

also is it spelt michael or michEal bc on the dsmp wiki its michAel but idk??

[avengerscompound]

Moving On - Chapter 4

Moving On: A Falcon & Captain Marvel Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Sam Wilson x F!Reader, Carol Danvers x F! Reader

Word Count:  2107

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Smut (MF, oral sex, vaginal sex, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism)

Synopsis:  You thought Sam Wilson was the love of your life.  You had planned to do it all with him - marriage, kids, see the world.  Even when you’re life gets turned upside down, and you both end up international fugitives, he’s there by your side.

Then Thanos comes.

When Sam is one of the many turned to dust, leaving you alone and pregnant, you don’t think you’ll ever stop grieving.  Yet, everyone tells you that Sam would want you to move on and live your life - that he’d want you to be happy. Gradually you open your heart up to another.  Carol Danvers has lost people too.  First her daughter, then her wife.  As the two of you lean on each other, feelings grow and you move on together.

So what happens when Sam is returned to you?

Chapter 4: On the Run

It is strange how quickly your whole world can change.  One minute you’re planning a wedding and living in the Avengers Compound in Upstate New York, an official agent for the Avengers.  The next you’re considered a war criminal and you’re on the run with your fiance and three other people, one of them who happened to be Captain America.

It had been like a slow-motion car wreck watching everything go wrong.  First, there was a completely unnecessary fight against your friends in the airport because no one wanted to listen to each other.  Then you’d been arrested by people who you’d once considered not just friends, but family.  Then you’d been shipped off to some secret supermax prison in the ocean for enhanced individuals with no trial, even though you weren’t enhanced.  Then Steve Rogers had busted you out and you’d ended up on the run.

You were with Sam though, and you’d rather be with him on the run knowing you were on the right side of the fight than safe in New York alone.

You’d all been trying to make the most of your time working as vigilantes.  There had been a lot of alien tech ending up in the hands of criminal organizations and Steve had been leading your little band of merry men to go and get it back.

Things weren’t easy for any of you.  There was a lack of money coming in and everyone had had to quickly withdraw their entire savings before the government blocked all of their accounts.  Thankfully Steve’s pension from the army had accrued a lot since he’d been lost at sea, but he hadn’t been able to withdraw all of it.

It had meant that a lot of the income came down to you, as out of everyone - you were the least recognizable.  Yes, there were alerts out for you, but you were a spy - you knew how to disguise yourself and you knew where to find under-the-counter work when needed.

The trick was never staying in the same place for long and returning to countries that didn’t sign the accords.  Even those weren’t safe for long - Ross was not above sending people into countries illegally to detain people who he was hunting - Bruce Banner was a testament to that - but they were safe for a little while and meant that once a month rather than sleep in the stolen Quinn, you could splash out and get a hotel.  Although you were pretty sure that Wanda was often sleeping in hotels - with Vision most likely - anytime she said she needed to have some alone time.

You woke up and stretched on the cold metal floor of the Quinn, your spine popping loudly.  Sam shifted in close to you, his arm draping over your sternum and his hand resting on your neck so his fingertips lightly caressed your jaw.  “Was wondering when you were gonna wake up,” he murmured.

“Is it late?”  You asked, blinking your eyes in the dark of the jet.  There was light coming in through the cockpit window, but it was low and you couldn’t tell if that was because it was early or just overcast outside.

“Not particularly,” he said, his hand running down your neck and over your collarbone.  “You just normally sleep like shit in the Quin.”

“Who says I didn’t,” you grumbled, rolling in toward him, and breathing him in.  There was an acrid sting to his scent thanks to the fact that neither of you had showered for a few days.  You were all due for a trip to somewhere remote with beds and good water pressure.  Steve had said maybe going back to Wakanda for a few weeks was in order.  He didn’t like to go too often because T’Challa had already extended himself above and beyond anything that was fair to ask of him just by harboring Bucky.  But it had been over six months since any of you had been there, and you had accumulated a lot of alien technology that you knew Shuri would love to get her hands on.

Sam chuckled and his hands ran down to yours, linking your fingers together, and playing with the engagement ring that sat on your finger.  “What if we just get married in Wakanda?”

You looked up into his eyes.  They looked black in the dim light and when he smiled at you, the corners of them crinkled slightly.  “I’m not sure that’s what you really want,” you said.  “Don’t you want Sarah to be there?  And the kids?”

Sam frowned.  Sarah’s kids had been two and four years old when you’d gone on the run and every month that he missed of their lives hurt him.  He’d been sending money back to his sister to keep the family business running back when you’d both had actual jobs, but these days he was barely scraping by himself.

He sighed and nuzzled into your neck.  “I just want us to start our lives together.”

“I know, but life had other plans,” you said.  “I love you and I don’t need to get married to know that.  It’s not going to change anything.  We will still be on the run and we won’t be able to build a stable life and have kids.”

Sam sighed and leaned his forehead against you.  “I know, but I want you to be my wife.”

“I am your wife,” you said.

“Not legally,” he said.

“We don’t do anything legally at the moment,” you said, playfully.  When Sam didn’t laugh, you sighed and wrapped your arms around him.  “Sam,” you said.  “If you really want to get married in Wakanda, I’ll do it.  I’m sure I can get something nice to wear together, and Nat and Wanda can be my bridesmaids.  I’m sure given how close we’ve all gotten they would be who I’d have picked anyway.  Just like I know you’d have Steve be your best man.  But I know you.  This isn’t really what you want.  You want the big wedding down in Louisiana like you always planned.  With the catering done using fish that were caught by your family’s trawler and you want AJ and Cass to be our little ring bearers.  And I know… I know that if you do this - if we get married in Wakanda without Sarah, she’ll murder you. She will murder you and then disown you post humus.”

Sam started laughing.  “Yeah, she will.”

“Sam, I love you.  I’m yours, no matter what,” you said.

“I know,” he replied with a sigh.  “I know we’re doing the right thing now.  I mean - Tony can get all on his high horse about how important the accords were, but he still broke them immediately.  That fucking kid he brought to the fight is still breaking the accords and living his best life.  I just… I wish we could have both.”

“So do I,” you said.  “I hope they come around, but I’m scared that the thing that makes them realize how wrong they are is gonna be real bad.  Like; world-ending bad.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam said.  “Which is why I’m doing this.”

“So, what do you want to do?  You asked.

“I guess… we can wait,” Sam relented.  “But maybe we can see if there’s any way we could do something small that we could sneak Sarah to?  Like … she goes to the Maldives and who just happens to be there getting married?”

“They’ll be watching her,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” he said.  “But we can look into it.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed.  “We’ll look into it.”

Sam leaned in and kissed you deeply.  You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him down on top of you, so the full weight of his body pressed down on the cold metal floor of the jet.

Sam groaned softly and rolled his hips, his cock starting to harden against your thigh.  “Where’s Steve?” you mumbled against his lips as he continued to kiss you.  He was currently the only unknown factor as Wanda was on another of her ‘retreats’ and Natasha was dealing with some ‘personal things’ that she wouldn’t tell the rest of you about.  He pulled back and smirked down at you.  “Why?  You want him to watch?”

“No,” you giggled, smacking his arm.  “I want the opposite of that.”

Sam laughed and nuzzled at your neck, pushing his hands up under your sleep shirt. “On his morning run.  Just you and me, baby.”

You kissed him again - more frantic this time, and your hands dug into his shoulders.  Sam began to squeeze and massage your breast as he ground down against you, sending a warm buzz through your body.  He began to move down your body, taking his time to both undress you and kiss every part of you.  By the time he was crouched between your spread legs, your whole body prickled like a live wire.

He gripped your thigh with one hand and reached up and began massaging your breast with the other as he dipped his head down and began lapping at your cunt.  You moaned and arched your back, gripping his bicep with one hand as you reached over your head with the other.  A hot current ran through you as Sam focused on your clit, sucking and nipping at it as he squeezed your breast.  He moaned into your cunt, the sound sending vibrations through you.  You slowly fell apart under him, writhing as a coil of hot pleasure wound itself tightly in your core.  Sam thrust two of his fingers inside you, and as soon as they hit that sweet spot inside you you cried out loudly and came hard, your whole body shuddering as your orgasm crashed through you.

Sam sat up onto his knees and looked at you.  “Gonna have to be a little quieter,” he said tapping your thigh.  “Steve’s got pretty good hearing you know.”

You scrunched up your face.  “Maybe you need to gag me.”

Sam chuckled and bit his bottom lip as you got on our hands and knees.  Even on the bedroll, your knees were going to hate you after this, but right now you didn’t care at all.  Sam moved up behind you, held onto your hips, and thrust hard into you.  You stumbled forward a little but managed to catch yourself on the cargo trunk in front of you.  He began to fuck you hard immediately, not even waiting to steady yourself.  You cried out and clenched around him as it felt like a hot shard tore through you.

Sam leaned over you, kissing your neck and shoulder, as he put his hand over your mouth.  “Hush now,” he growled in your ear.  “You don’t want to wake up the whole forest.”

You moaned into his hand and opened your mouth, letting him push two of his fingers inside for you to suck on.  He railed into you, his hips moving quickly and erratically as your bodies slapped together.  You tried to bounce back on him, adding to the pleasure coursing through you, but it wasn’t long until your arms gave out and you were helpless under him as your orgasm built.

As his hips began to stutter, Sam wrapped his arm around your waist and began to rub your clit.  It was all it took for the dam inside you to burst.  You buried your face in your arm and cried out as you came, clenching around Sam’s cock.  He began to thrust even more erratically as he chased his own release and with a jerk and a low groan he came, releasing inside you.

You let yourself flop completely on the floor, breathing heavily and feeling a little high on endorphins.  “You think Steve is out there and heard us?”  You asked as Sam lay back down next to you and kissed your shoulder.

“Caught the tail end of the show!” Steve yelled, his voice muffled through the jet walls.

You and Sam both broke down into peels of laughter and you hid your face in Sam’s chest.

“Get a move on, would you?!” Steve yelled.  “We have a lot to do today.”

You laughed even harder and Sam held you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead.  “Come on, duty calls,” he chuckled.

You let him help you up and the two of you both started cleaning yourselves up the best way you could.  You hoped to god that Steve would say it was time for a break soon, but in the meantime, you were glad you were here with Sam.

// NEXT

[imagineaworlds]

I Had a Dream (Part Three) -- BAU Team

“Toy With Me”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Daddy kink, Master kink, dirty talk, bondage, BDSM, degradation, edging, nipple clamps. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy)

Word Count: 3265

I let out a shaky breath as I moved back onto the middle of the bed, then laid down until my head hit the pillows. I was staring up at the ceiling, listening to Emily as she went to go tell them we were ready. It took about a minute of me sitting in silence and my own arousal for the door at the top of the stairs to open again, and the stampede of steps started echoing throughout the basement. I instinctively closed my legs. When the mattress space to my left started to sink, I looked to see Hotch there.

“I’ll be in the corner, my love. It’s you and me, okay? You say the word, and we’ll stop.”

I reached up to touch his face. “I’m okay, Sir.”  We leaned towards each other and kissed passionately for a moment. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

After a moment of letting his words brew, Hotch got off the bed and went to sit in his armchair in the corner. It was a black leather seat that managed to blend in with the dark blue painted walls fairly well. He liked to sit there and watch toys torture me for hours. That was his spot. He wasn’t going to let anyone take it. As for the rest of the team, I craned my neck up long enough to see that Garcia had pulled Morgan to the couch on the far side of the room, just in front of the tv on the wall opposite me. JJ, Reid, Rossi, and Emily were all standing around the bed, looking down at me.

“They’ve soaked their pants,” Rossi pointed out.

I whimpered and squeezed my thighs together to hide the embarrassing wet spot in my sweatpants. Rossi and Emily, however, worked together to pull my legs apart. My breath sputtered.

“They were riding my thigh earlier,” Emily said. She suddenly landed a slap on my clothes pussy, making me moan out. My clit was throbbing and the strike only made it more obvious to me. “I bet they would’ve tried to cum if we weren’t interrupted. Isn’t that right, slut?” She landed another slap.

I tensed my legs in an attempt to close them again, but Emily and Rossi held true. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Sir’s trained a good slut, it seems,” Rossi said, referencing Hotch. “Always needy and obedient.” He ran a finger up my slit starting at my entrance, slowly working its way up to my clit, making me moan and wiggle again. “Reid and JJ, grab their arms.”

My eyes widened and I shook my head. JJ and Reid ignored me, though. They each grabbed one of my wrists, then pinned them over my head.

“That’s better,” Rossi hummed, running his finger up me again. “No panties?”

“Never,” Hotch answered from his seat.

“No bra, either…”

Emily and Reid both reached to squeeze my breasts. I moaned and tugged against all of their holds. “They love to squirm,” Emily explained.

“We can fix that. Morgan—“ Rossi glanced over his shoulder to see Morgan passionately kissing Garcia to ease her nerves. “Never mind. Aaron—“

“On it.” Hotch got up from his seat to walk over to the ropes hanging on the walls. “Four?”

“Better make it five, just to keep their hips down.”

I made another weak attempt to pull away from them, but the four of them only tightened their grips on me. Rossi and Emily, I expected; but JJ and Reid were really surprising me. I think the shock of their change in behavior only made me more wet, though. I couldn’t wait to see how hard they would fuck me.

“Pants,” Rossi said to the other three people holding me. They all worked together to pull my sweatpants off and throw them to the side. I hissed as the cold air hit my cunt. “Fuck… You’re so fucking wet for us.”

Hotch threw the five separate ropes onto the bed, then returned to his seat. Rossi released me with one hand so that he could start tying my right ankle to the bottom right bedpost. When he was done, he let go of me entirely. I tested the waters by pulling my leg, but Rossi had tied me so tight I couldn’t even bend my knee. I cursed under my breath and gave up. He handed a length of rope to Emily, instructing her to tie my waist down to the bed using the loops on either side of the mattress. She traded spots with Rossi at my left ankle. As he started tying my other ankle up, Emily got to work on my waist. She started by tying one end of the rope to the loop on the left side of the bed, then she snaked the rope under and over me twice before tying the other end to the right side hook.

“Pull,” Hotch said from his seat.

I listened to his order. I tugged at my ankles and bucked my hips around, but I found that I couldn’t do anything but pointlessly squirm around for their own enjoyment. “Fuck,” I whispered, going limp.

“Reid, their arms,” Rossi ordered, hanging him the remaining two lengths of ropes.

Spencer Reid was the real rope master in the group, that much I knew. Throughout our time working together, I figured out that he knew the best ways to tie people up, what Shibari was, and all the different kinds of rope and their purposes. So, when he tied me so tight I was grabbing onto the headboard and couldn’t do anything but stretch my fingers, I actually wasn’t surprised. JJ was, though. She was trying, bless her heart. She was there, and she was interested in all of this, and she wanted to try to do her best, but she always screamed submissive to me. The way she was looking at Emily made me believe that she showed up with the belief that Emily would finally Dom her. Honestly, after watching JJ cluelessly mess with the rope and Emily had to step in, I knew right then and there what was going to happen.

Emily put her hand on the small of JJ’s back, making her gasp and drop the rope in her hands. I watched as Emily whispered something in JJ’s ear, then took her hand and led her to the couch where Morgan and Garcia were sitting. With JJ out of the way, Reid kneeled onto the bed and stretched across my body to start tying my other wrist to the headboard. For a moment, I could take in how he smelled like old books and mahogany. It was intoxicating.

Finally, when I was tied to each bed post, leaving me spread and vulnerable to them, Rossi and Reid took a step back to admire me. I lifted my head off the pillows to look around the room. Hotch was sitting in his chair in the corner, one ankle crossed over his knee, his hands in his lap to cover his erection. Rossi and Reid were standing next to each of my ankles. Morgan was still holding Garcia close, and I could tell that she was finally relaxing and getting into it. I was glad. Emily had JJ in her lap, both of their hands wandering over each other’s bodies, their lips hovering so close they were nearly kissing. I melted.

When Reid ran a finger up my calf, I suddenly tensed again and pulled at all of the restraints. Rossi was pleased with his work on my ankles, and Reid was pleased with his work on my wrists. I could see it in their grins.

“Aaron,” Rossi turned, “do you have cloth scissors?”

“Top right cubby,” he answered, pointing to the black two by two cubby drawer storage we had to my left.

As Rossi stepped away to find the scissors, Reid stepped directly in front of me at the end of the bed, and he put both of his hands on my tied ankles. I couldn’t feel his cold touch until he slowly started trailing up onto my shins. When a gentle, quiet moan left my lips, I could feel all eyes on me. Garcia and Morgan had stopped running their hands all over each other, and JJ and Emily had stopped staring into one another’s eyes long enough to stare at me.

“Please…” I begged uselessly.

“Please, what, baby girl?” Morgan asked from his seat.

My heart skipped a beat. “Something… Anything… Just… Touch me. Please.”

“I am touching you,” Reid teased, his fingers moving up to my thighs. He stopped for a moment, then squeezed them like they were dough. “You’re shaking.”

Hotch and Emily eyed me suspiciously. Yeah, I was shaking because I was a little scared of what was going to happen— but it was a good scared. I was anxious to see where Reid would move next, or how Rossi would use the scissors to cut off my shirt. I was anxious to know when Emily, JJ, Morgan, and Garcia would get involved. I was curious as to if Hotch had told them about his dream, and if they planned to reenact it. I didn’t even know if Hotch was going to get involved at all or if he was just going to sit and watch while he still tried to hide his erection. I was scared because I didn’t know what was going to happen. But I didn’t want them to stop. In fact, I really fucking wanted them to hurry up.

“Mister S,” I whispered, lifting my head again so that I could look at him. What I saw shocked me again. Earlier, he looked at me in a way that said: “I’m going to fuck you sore”, but now he was looking at me in a way that said: “I’m going to torture you until you’re nothing but a screaming whore.” That only made me wetter. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

“Not yet,” Rossi interrupted Reid before he could move his hands to where I needed him most.

I whimpered and fell limp. Rossi kneeled onto the side of the bed, grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt, and pulled it taught before lining the scissors up. I tensed slightly so that I could hold still. As he slowly started cutting, I shivered when the cool metal touched my skin every time the blades opened up before closing down again. When he reached the valley between my breasts, Rossi gave up on the scissors. He set them on the bedside table, then reached to rip the rest of my shirt apart. I yelped quietly.

The second my chest was exposed, I could hear Garcia getting up from the couch to walk over to the bed. Despite the fact that my mind was mainly focused on the way Reid was still kneading my thighs and Rossi was running his hands up and down my sides, my ears were trained onto listening for Garcia’s movements. Next thing I knew, she was standing to my right. I looked at her to see that her eyes were dilated, her lips were swollen from kissing Morgan, and her hands were shaking. I think she was waiting for permission to reach out. Rossi caught on, too, so he gave it. He told her that it was okay, that she could do with me as she wished. No one was going to stop her.

To test the waters, Garcia reached out and immediately pinched my nipple. I gasped and arched my back. Everyone snickered. As she rolled the bud between her thumb and index fingers, I became nothing but a puddle of loose moans. Three different people were touching me, and yet all of them were purposefully missing the one place I needed them most. Hotch liked to tease me— it was his favorite thing to do— and he somehow managed to get more creative with it every time we played, but having seven other people in the room with me, and yet not a single one of them was making a move to fuck me until I saw stars… It was killing me. I needed them. Any of them. All of them. I didn’t care. I just needed something.

Garcia was more comfortable now. She had tested the waters, so now she wanted to do more. Using her other hand, she pinched my other nipple, and she pulled at both of the sensitive nubs lightly.

“Penelope…” I moaned out.

“Shh…” she cooed.

I bit my lip to hold myself back. She pinched and rolled my nipples a little harder. I wanted to scream out for her, but I swallowed back everything I felt for the sake of following the rules. But then I felt a finger run up my wet slit, and I couldn’t help myself. I moaned and thrashed around on the bed until Rossi pulled his finger away from my pussy and brought it to my mouth. I wrapped my lips around his finger.

“See how they’re so needy for any kind of touch, they’ll do whatever you ask.”

So that was what he meant when he requested his odd “teacher roleplay”. Most people interpreted that as a girl in a skimpy school uniform, then her and her partner would pretend like they were a student/teacher dynamic. But this was far from that. He liked talking about me as though I weren’t even there, and it was all for the sake of teaching the others how to tease and use me. I supposed it made sense in hindsight. The one party Rossi did invite us to happened to be at his house. We were running late because we had to drop off Jack at Haley’s house later than anticipated, so we missed the main introduction part of the night where a general scene took place in the living room. Now that Rossi was there, teaching Garcia and Reid about my behavior, I started piecing together that the scene Hotch and I missed had something to do with this roleplay as well.

Rossi pulled his finger out of my mouth. As he asked Morgan to come over, he wiped his finger clean on my chest. When he was out of the way, Garcia bent down to suck my right nipple while her fingers still played with the left. I cried out and kept squirming, though I knew nothing would end up happening because of my fighting. It was like my body was trying to find some way out of the bondage, but Reid and Rossi had ensured that I could barely move. Even the rope around my waist that Emily tied kept me pressed close to the mattress. I could still arch my back when euphoria would hit, but only barely. Rossi noticed, so he crouched down to tighten the rope on the hook. I groaned as I felt the rope pull me down onto the bed until I couldn’t move my hips.

When Morgan arrived at Rossi’s side, I looked up again to see past the group standing around me to spot that Emily already had JJ laying on her back on the couch. Emily’s hands were under JJ’s shirt, massaging her breasts so that JJ would moan, opening her mouth for Emily’s dominant kiss. I gulped and moaned at the sight. I wanted that to be me. I wanted someone to at least be over me already, getting ready to fuck me. The good news was, it seemed like that was where this was all heading, because Reid moved out of the way, and Morgan climbed onto the mattress space between my spread legs. He was palming himself through his pants. Both him and Reid had been hard since entering the house and seeing my obedience, but now that things were escalating, I could tell that Morgan was as eager to fuck me as I was to have him inside of me. But that wasn’t the point of this game they were all playing. I was starting to put pieces together that Hotch must’ve told them to torture me either when they were on the phone hours earlier or when Emily brought me downstairs and they were all waiting up in the living room.

“Fuck, baby girl,” Morgan groaned quietly, bringing two fingers to my entrance. “Is this all for us?” He slowly rubbed the tips of his fingers around my hole, collecting my wetness.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Jesus, Aaron,” Rossi chuckled, “what did you do to them to break them like this?”

Hotch smirked from his seat. “I didn’t let them cum this morning.”

I moaned out as Morgan pressed his middle finger into me. “Thank you, Daddy—” Another moan quickly escaped me as he inserted his ring finger, too. “Thank you—” He pulled his fingers out of me. “No, no, no, no, please. Daddy, please.”

“I like it when you beg, baby girl,” he teased me while slowly circling my entrance.

Garcia moved her mouth to my other nipple, which was when I realized that Reid had moved away from me to grab the nipple clamps. I looked up at him with pleading eyes, shaking my head, playing along with the non-con play he wanted to try. Morgan didn’t give me a chance to think about it too long because he thrust three fingers into me suddenly and curled them directly into my g-spot without hesitation. I cried out, screwed my eyes shut, and tried to buck around, but I couldn’t. I whined. Reid pinched my free nipple between his hand, managing to work around Garcia since she was still busy putting her attention into my other nipple. As he pinched it, I felt the tip of the clamp move around so that he could find the best position to release it. Hotch and I had all different kinds of clamps, but my favorites were the ones that looked like small metal clothespins with a chain connecting both of them together. Hotch must have told Reid that, because I suddenly felt the clamp contract on my hard nipple, and I immediately knew that it was the clothespin because of how painful it was.

I cried out, “Fu—” Rossi pressed a hand over my mouth to shut me up. With me silenced, Morgan started working his fingers in and out of me at a faster pace. My walls tightened around him as I practically screamed into Rossi’s hand.

“They’re so tight,” Morgan said.

“Don’t let them cum,” Reid spoke up. Garcia pulled away from my nipple and moved out of Reid’s way so that he could attach the other end of the clamps. “Just… like… that…” He released his grip on the clamp so it closed down around my nipple. I thrashed around in response to the pain that was racing through me. Reid suddenly pulled at the chain between my breasts. “Stop moving, slut.”

I blushed and stopped moving, despite the natural instinct to do so every time Morgan spread or curled his fingers inside of me. That was when Garcia pressed a single finger against my clit. I moaned her name as she started matching Morgan’s pace, my orgasm approaching fast.

“I’m close,” I warned. Morgan grabbed Garcia’s hand, and they simultaneously pulled away from me. “No, please!” I begged as my walls clenched around nothing. My clue throbbed and ached for Garcia’s touch, yet nothing came. “Shit…” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling in surrender.

They all chuckled at how I gave up.

“Good girl,” Hotch said from his seat.

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