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#but if it was for a wet patch on track get FUCKED lmao
lastonthebrakes · 1 year
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no way they red flagged the session bc everybody sucks at driving f1 is truly the funniest sport ever
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babyboibucky · 3 years
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Project V: Striped Pajamas
Pairing: College!Bucky x Fem!Reader
Summary: You ask Bucky to come over for more than just cuddles.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Soft!College!Bucky is a warning okay, but there’s still dumbassery in this, thigh riding sksksks
A/N: OKAY LET’S DO THIS AGAIN, SHALL WE??? (I accidentally posted this while formatting it earlier ajncajcanjda) anyway this was based on my nsfw anon’s ask about a hot video and I can’t NOT write it okay. This isn’t the Project V piece I was supposed to work on tonight (I’m still at work now but when the inspo hits, gotta take advantage of that lmao) anyway yeah, whatever. Enjoy!!!
Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST
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wanda's out. come over, dumbass
okay 🥰
Bucky wasn't a track and field runner, but he might as well be with how he jumped out of his bed and sprinted from his dorm to yours. The distance of your dorm was around fifteen minutes but Bucky made it there in more or less eight minutes.
You rarely asked him to come over and whenever you did, it was either you were needy or horny. Or both. The combination of those moods was Bucky's favorite because it's like a once in a blue moon event.
And he wouldn't miss it for the world.
Your all-female dorm was stricter, which was why you were almost always staying over at Bucky's. But your best friend was charming, despite being a fucking dumbass. He's become friends with the RAs of your dorm and managed to charm the dorm receptionist lady into letting him visit you event at night, saying that your mom trusted him to always check in on you.
When you opened the door, Bucky was surprised but delighted when you immediately latched onto him like a koala. He chuckled and held onto your ass as he carried you into the room, sitting down on your chair.
You were in your typical hoodie and cotton shorts combo while Bucky was in a white shirt and some striped pajamas. Bucky smiled widely when you pressed your nose into his neck, taking in his scent before letting out a relaxed sigh.
Oh, Bucky guessed you were just needy and wanted some cuddles.
But then you adjusted yourself onto Bucky's lap and straddled his thigh instead. Soft whines escaped your lips when you started grinding your hips down on Bucky's thigh, the friction of both the fabrics of your clothes preventing you from getting some sort of relief.
Oh. Ohhhh. You were horny too. Fuck yes, Bucky thought to himself as his hands slid down from your waist to your ass.
"This why you asked me to come over?" Bucky cooed, as he pressed his lips on the crown of your head.
You nodded in response as you further nuzzled your face into Bucky's neck before your pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his skin, making him hiss.
"Don't make fun of me." you warned, straightening up to look at Bucky while keeping your arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Bucky scoffed, "I never made fun of you whenever you're in this particular mood." he defended before leaning forward to peck your lips.
"D'you wanna try riding my thigh?" he asked softly before kissing your lips again, deeper and longer this time.
Instead of responding, you got up and shimmied out of your shorts and underwear before quickly returning to your position on Bucky's thigh. His moan from feeling the dampness of your pussy soak through his pajamas was immediately muffled when you kissed him again.
"You're so fucking wet, what got you so clingy and horny?" Bucky chuckled as he looked down to see the wet patch on his pajamas, making his cock grow harder.
When he looked back up at you, you were glaring at him from the embarrassment. You refused to admit that you had a soft side to you which was only reserved for Bucky. Not even Steve nor Sam knew that you were capable of being so needy. Not even Wanda was aware of this.
Bucky laughed and pinched your cheek before tugging you to his chest, "It's okay, I like it. Go on, rub yourself on me and make yourself cum." he even encouraged, tightening his hug around your waist.
"What about you?" you murmured into his shirt, moving your hips again.
You elicited a tiny whimper at the first drag of your bare cunt against Bucky's clothed thigh, your hands grabbing at his shirt as you sped up your pace.
Bucky exhaled heavily, a hand coming down to caress one of your butt cheeks. "That can wait, want you to cum first." he breathed out.
"Feels good, Bucky..." you whined again, speeding up the movement of your hips against his thigh as you sat up straight, pressing your forehead against Bucky's chin as you chased your high.
Bucky kissed your forehead and grunted when he felt his thigh get wetter and wetter. He slightly pushed you back so he could slip his hands inside your hoodie, letting out a satisfied moan when he realized that you had nothing on inside. His fingers were quick to tug at your pebbled nipples, making you squeak in pleasure especially that the pierced one was now extra sensitive.
"Shit, I love it when you're in this mood. Might be my favorite mood of yours." Bucky groaned as he continued to fondle with your tits.
You whined, stilling your hips for a short while to push back your orgasm. "I fucking hate this mood." you huffed out with a frown.
Bucky grinned at you, moving his hands to cup your ass, guiding you to continue grinding down on him.
"No, you don't." he teased and kissed you.
"Shut up." you said before riding his thigh again, this time harder and faster than before.
Your moans sounded so wanton— hight-pitched and just plain needy. Bucky loved it, you rarely moaned like this and if he could whip out his phone to record this, he would. Maybe he actually should? He'll bring it up next time, but for now, he wanted you to cum on his thigh even if that meant ruining his pajama pants.
"You gonna cum?" Bucky asked, pressing light kisses all over your face.
You nodded, biting your lip as you looked down at Bucky with half-lidded eyes. Your brows furrowed against your forehead as you moved back and forth on Bucky's thigh, your wet cunt feeling the friction of the fabric with every movement. Bucky noticed how your breathing picked up, your grip on his shirt tightening as your moans continued to fly out of your mouth.
"'m close, Bucky. So close." you panted.
"I got you, gonna help you cum." Bucky murmured before placing his thumb against your clit, pressing down on it and rubbing it in hard circles.
You gasped at the additional sensation and let out a long, shaky moan when you finally came. Your entire body stilled, your toes curled and your eyes snapped shut as you reveled in the orgasm that washed over your entire body.
Bucky cursed when he felt a gush of wetness further soak his pajamas, your juices quickly spreading across the cloth. You let yourself fall against Bucky's chest as you caught your breath while his hand rubbed your back, soothing you and relaxing you.
"You good?" he asked.
You nodded, smiling against the fabric of his shirt. "Better now." you said before reaching down to palm his bulge.
Before you could slip your hand inside his pajamas, Bucky had taken your wrist and pressed a kiss against your palm.
"Nah, we can just stay like this for a while." he said.
The silence was comfortable and calming as you stayed on top of Bucky. And then you felt his entire body stiffen before he had to ruin the peaceful moment.
"Fuck, I forgot that these pajamas are Steve's."
-
Everything Bucky Tag List:
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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years
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🄱🄰🄽🄳🄰🄶🄴🅂
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🄱🅄🄲🄺🅈 🄱🄰🅁🄽🄴🅂 🅇 🄳🄾🄲🅃🄾🅁!🅁🄴🄰🄳🄴🅁
🅁🄴🅀🅄🄴🅂🅃🄴🄳: obsessedwithmarvelman
hey there. i am new here so i don't know much. could you please do something fluffy where the reader is a doctor and bucky comes to her house after fighting with some dudes. All he wants is sex but she takes care of his wounds. and it ends with a smut. by the way i love your work. 💞
🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: smut 18+, angst-ish, fluffy, fwb to lovers, cw; bl00d, gashes, and ouchies lol
🄰🅄🅃🄷🄾🅁’🅂 🄽🄾🅃🄴🅂: dude, this such a good concept i literally could not wait to write this omggggg please enjoy babes ps i know nothing medical but i did take a year long course in high school retaining to sports medicine so i think i did ok? Idk lmao
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You were in the middle of watching whatever sitcom was being aired, at this point there’s too many to keep track, when loud and hard knocks boomed through the quiet apartment. You set your snack down and walked to the door wondering who could possibly be a guest in the dead night.
“Buck?”  you answered the door to see the gorgeous man clutching his side.
“Did you get my text?” he asked quickly.
“No, I’m sorry I- uh I didn’t-”
“Doesn’t matter,” he barged through your door.
“Is everything alrig-” Bucky interrupted you mid sentence grabbing your throat and pulling you into a deep and messy kiss.
“God, I need you so fucking bad,” he mumbled against your lips; of you which you gladly leaned into to give him what he needed.
You slipped your hands around his waist when he suddenly flinched and breathed in harshly through his gritted teeth. You took his hand away from your throat and assessed his state clearly understanding he was in no shape to have sex; at least not now.
“What happened?” you asked worriedly.
“Nothing, I just need you,” he tried to lean in again but you dodged his kiss moving under his arm to grab a first aid.
“Y/n, I don’t need whatever it is you're getting. Super soldier, remember?” he chuckled breathlessly
“Oh, I remember, Sargent. Which is why…” you emerged from the bathroom with first aid and a bottle of alcohol and peroxide in hand, “the sooner we patch you up, the faster you’ll heal.”
“Ok, doctor,” he said sarcastically.
“Excuse me, don’t mock my title,” you grinned.
“Not only can I assist you in need sexual frustration or as you call it, your personal fuck buddy, but I help you out when you come me to looking like the goddamn crypt keeper covered in blood,” you smiled sarcasically, which made Bucky chuckle.
“Now take your shirt off, let me assess the damage.”
When he did there was a huge gash spilling blood on the side of his ribs. Bruise and cuts litter his stomach and chest, even his arms. You gasped and your heart ached for him and even though he wasn’t in immense pain because of the serum, the fact that this is what it took for him to be in any pain scared you.
“Did you really think you could get away with fucking me in this condition?” you asked; you were upset.
“I didn’t want to worry you. Besides it doesn’t hurt anymore and I’m gonna stop bleeding,” he brushed off.
“Fuck you, Bucky. Didn’t want to worry me my ass. And if you stained every surface in my apartment?”
“I’ll buy you a new apartment,” he smiled, his beautiful stunning smile, shit.
“Fuck off,” you said making him chuckle.
You swiped the blood away gently with a towel soaked in peroxide. You applied a bit of triple antibiotic ointment on his smaller cuts even though it was unlikely they’d become infected but you took precaution nonetheless.
Bucky watched you with soft eyes. He thought about when you said the he called you his ‘personal fuck buddy’. It didn’t sit right with him anymore. His face held a somber look and you looked up at him concerned.
“Are you ok?” you said softly.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
You took an emergency stitching kit and although everything comes pre sterilized you poured the alcohol over the curved needle and threaded it through the bruised skin. Bucky tensed under your cold hands and flinched at the first stitch. Your head instantly shot up to make sure he was alright.
“I’m ok, angel,” he reassured.
You continued to stitch his wound expertly and yet again he flinched ever so slightly but you caught immediately apologizing.
“Doll, it’s ok. It’s like a little pinch, relax.”
“I’m sorry; I don’t usually have to do this to people I care about,” you said smoothly as if it was something you always said; you care about him.
“Well, don’t worry too much about me, darling,” he smirked.
“Hey, I have every right to worry about the man I fool around with,” you said playfully.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Bucky laughed. You finished stitching his wound and cleaning any areas to prevent infections and grabbed a cloth bandage to place over it in case it bleeds again.
“There. Do you need anything else? Water? Food; are you hungry?” you stood up.
“Not for food,” he said lowly, making your stomach flip.
“You’re still horny?” you played off the butterflies.
“Only for you darling, you’re addictive,” he moved his hands under your large shirt easily.
“No, you're insatiable,” you threw back.
“Yet you feed my desperate appetite.”
“Shall I stop then?”
“If you had the willpower, you would’ve by now. Maybe you’re just as addicted as I am,” he leaned in.
“Maybe I am,” you whispered.
“Well? Are you gonna stop me?” he teased.
“Of course not.”
Bucky crashed his lips against yours hungrily and you melted against his body perfectly. His hands squeezed your sides gently making you smile and Bucky picked you up and carried you to the bedroom; a place he knew like the back of his hand, so many nights spent with you that he cherished more than he’d like to admit.
When he got to the bedroom you released your feet down to the floor and Bucky helped you land gracefully. You grabbed his hand and led to sit comfortably on your bed. You kissed him passionately and soon after slowly kneeled to the ground in front of him. Bucky’s lust-blown eyes hungrily drank you in as you sank to the floor.
“You don't have to-”
“Uh-uh, you need to relax and let me take care of you, baby,” you rubbed his thighs slowly making Bucky squirm under you.
You pulled his pants down his legs and pressed light kisses to his thighs before grabbing his hard cock in your hand. You pumped up and down in your hand and Bucky’s head fell back and he sighed pleasurably
You licked the underside of his cock and Bucky moaned; he was already turning into putty in your hands and you barely touched him. You circled your tongue around the swollen tip before placing the head inside your mouth. You tried your best to breathe steadily through your nose as you sucked hard, hollowing your cheeks around his dick.
“Fuck, Y/n,” Bucky threaded his hand thorugh your hair and pulled you further down on his length.
Your hand pumped for what you couldn’t take in your mouth and you moaned around his cock. The vibrations from your throat made Bucky climax and spurts of hot ribbons of cum shot down your throat. You pulled away from him and Bucky’s legs trembled subtly. Cum dripped down the side of your chin and you swiped it into your mouth and sucked on your fingers seductively staring into his eyes making Bucky groan lowly.
“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he pulled close and kissed you sildly he could taste himself on your tongue and he instantly became hard again.
You practically tore your shirt and pants off, pouncing on Bucky playfully. He laughed before kissing you again and flipping you delicately onto your back. He kissed your neck and collarbones gingerly, his hands roaming around your naked body.
His thigh pressed between yours and he could feel the wetness from your core spreading across his skin. Your fingertips grazed his sides as you sighed from his soft lips against your burning skin. Bucky’s hands fell between your bodies and pumped his cock a couple times before lining up with your slick entrance.
His tip flicked your sensitive clit ever so subtly and just that alone made your entire body jerk. You could feel the puffs of air escape Bucky in the crook of your neck as he chuckled.
“Bucky, please,” you whimpered.
“Please what, baby? What do you want; tell me,” he whispered against your ear.
“Fuck me, please. Bucky, I need you,” your nails clawed at his skin on his back and Bucky hissed immediately pushing into you passed your folds.
His thrusts weren’t exactly soft but they weren’t quick. It was the perfect tempo, rutting into you roughly and slowly. His hips snapping against yours harshly surely to leave bruises to commemorate his time spent with you.
You moans were loud against Bucky’s ear but he loved every second of it. He loved hearing you fall apart under him; so much he perked his head up and watched your beautiful features contort in pleasure caused by him and only him. Your body moving against his like a ragdoll as he had his way with you just like you always let him.
Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s torso pulling closer to you. He started hitting a new angle of which made your eyes roll back and your back arched. His grunts mixed with your high pitched moans and echoed throughout the entire apartment.
Bucky cupped your face softly with his metal hand and traced your lips as he continued to thrust into you. His thumb passed your lips into your mouth and your eyes flashed a sparkle of mischievous as you began to suck on his thumb. Your tongue circled his thumb as you had done to his dick not so long ago and Bucky groaned at the erotic sight.
You released his metal thumb with an exasperated pop and Bucky crashed his lips down to you. The bed under you two shook and hit the wall; surely to annoy the hell out of any neighbors home in the late hours, which was more than likely.
“Fuck, Bucky! I’m gonna cum!” you whimpered.
“Cum baby. I’m right behind you, doll,” he pressed his forehead against yours looking into your eyes intimately.
Your entire body shook against his. You saw stars in your eyes, your toes curled, your back arched; you felt euphoric. When you came down from your high you opened your eyes and found those special blue eyes, the ones you simultaneously sought comfort and desire in.
Bucky looked down on you with a small smile before leaning down again to kiss you faintly before cleaning the both you up generously. He went to gather his clothes and for a moment you reminded yourself that he wasn’t yours, he didn’t live here, he had to go now; just like always.
“Bucky, will you be alright?” you asked gingerly.
“Um,” he looked down at his gash that no longer held those badnages you carefully placed and simply revealed his already scarring flesh that you expertly stitched up; you were a doctor after all.
“I should probably stay, you know in case I need your help,” he said shyly; it was suggestive because you and him both knew that he wasn’t going to need help, he was going to be in perfect condition again by morning but neither of you could say goodbye to each other.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” you said timidly.
Bucky smiled softly and crawled back into bed with you. He pulled your warm naked body against his and you practically melted into his side. You fit like a perfect puzzle piece. His hand caressed your side bringing goosebumps to skin and you chuckled when Bucky realized what he did.
“Stop, that tickles,” you said muffled as your head was buried shyly into the crook of Bucky’s neck.
“What?” he feigned innocence.
“Fuck off,” you both laughed breathlessly.
There was a moment of silence that rested between you two. What you had was quite domestic but you weren’t in a relationship. Without the other knowing, you both thought about what life could be like for the two of you if you did say the words.
“Y/n,” he whispered.
“Hm?”
“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, you instantly knew what he was going to say; you felt it.
“I love you, too,” you whispered.
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” you cupped his face, “I do.”
Bucky kissed you and gently rubbed his nose against yours before asking, “Can you say it again?”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you so much,” you curled your fingers in his tangled hair.
“Oh god, please, again,” he practically moaned.
“I love you. I love you. I love you, Bucky.”
You leaned back to look at him and noticed tears brimming his eyes; you gently wiped them away kissing his cheeks. This feeling was entirely new to him. He felt overwhelmed a bit but he loved you so much it was all he could think about right now. He didn’t exactly know when he really fell in love but it didn’t matter because here you were in his arms, actually his, and he wasn’t gonna let you go. Not a million years.
“I love you.”
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@mathletemadison​
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kumzume · 4 years
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SLAP! ft. goshiki tsutomu
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wc. 1.7k :D
warnings. SMUT (duh), impact play, slight angst???, a lil fluff, cumming untouched, hard-ish dom!reader, sub!goshiki, established relationship, dom drop (???), shit ending but what’s new lmao
an. i realized i was neglecting this blog while Trying™ to work on desperate pt 2 &&& i was missing my baby goshiki so :p
♡´・ᴗ・`♡
“i’m sorry, you want me to what?”
you could feel the disbelief written all over your face, the absurdity of the situation ticking up the corners of your lips into an incredulous smile.
goshiki—bless his heart—sat fidgeting in front of you, his face painted in a bright pink shade while he played with his lithe fingers in his lap.
you just couldn’t believe your ears. your goshiki—the one who nearly fainted when he asked you out, the one who threw up twice before meeting your parents and the one who sobbed so hard through your vows he was impossible to understand—that same goshiki was asking you to do what??
“i-i asked if y-you would hit me,” he mumbled, eyes downcast as though to avoid rejection, “y’know, during sex.”
okay, so you weren’t having an early stroke when you heard him earlier.
he actually wanted you to hit him—pretty badly it appeared if the bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans was anything to go by.
you took a deep breath in order to ground yourself and collect your thoughts. you knew your husband’s mind was probably going a mile a minute while he awaited your inevitable dismissal of the subject but you needed a moment to just think.
were you seriously opposed to this? i mean, throughout your entire relationship goshiki had always made accommodations for you, from little things like buying more pillows for his bed when you moved in with him to big things like scheduling time off for you when you got too stressed to take you on a vacation.
he’d always been there for you so why couldn’t you do this little thing for him? it was only sex and your relationship was so, so much more than that. giving him this was honestly the least you could do to repay him for all that he’d done for you.
with your mind made up and your resolve successfully steeled, you made your way over to your husband who looked about ready to keel over. you felt your heart clench in your chest, feeling rather bad about leaving him in silence for a good 5 minutes.
it took you a few short strides before you finally stood in front of goshiki, observing the shuddering of his shoulders and his pointed avoidance of eye contact.
you breathed out a soft sigh before bringing your left hand, adorned with your glittering wedding ring, up to his cheek, caressing the warm skin gently. despite his refusal to look you in the face, goshiki leaned into your touch, turning his face so that his petal soft lips were flush with your palm.
carefully, you lifted his face up so that he was finally looking at you. you weren’t at all surprised to see the tears growing in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall over his lashline—he’d always been somewhat of a crybaby.
goshiki stared at you with such adoration and love that you couldn’t help the sharp exhale that escaped from your nose. his eyes fluttered shut as he moved just enough to take your thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking serenely.
the sensation was nearly enough to knock you entirely off track but you quickly regained control of the situation. you slipped your thumb out goshiki’s mouth, your hand roaming to his jaw before gripping him tightly, his eyes shooting open and welling up with tears.
“‘tomu,” you began harshly, “tell me what you said before, hm? what do you want me to do?”
“yn pleas—“ your hand held him tighter causing a choked whimper to slip past his parted lips.
“ah ah ah ‘tomu, you know better than that.” from your place above him, you could see his eyes beginning to glaze over as he sunk into the comfort of your control. the sight never failed to get you, a warm smile almost overtaking your face but you swiftly stomped it out.
the grip on his face tightened once again as you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “what do you call me to get what you want ‘tomu?” the warm breath tickling goshiki’s ear sent a shudder crawling down his spine to rest hard and heavy in his pelvis.
“i supposhed to call you mish,” he finally responded, his words muffled by your fingers digging into his cheeks. you let the smile breach your face this time, letting go of his face before turning on your heel to make your way towards the bedroom.
you don’t turn around but you can hear goshiki knock over his chair in his haste to follow behind you. you grinned before schooling your face into an unimpressed mask.
the cool air of your bedroom hit your shoulders causing tiny goosebumps to arise but you ignored the discomfort to focus on goshiki. he had entered the room a while ago, his big bright eyes trained on the ground while he awaited your instruction.
he was so good. that’s what made what you were about to do just that much more fun.
“‘tomu,” you began, your tone harsh and unforgiving. “come here.”
your husband obliged, shuffling over to you until he was only a foot away. despite his naturally submissive nature, he towered above you, his body built from his years of volleyball and working out.
you allowed your eyes to trail down the dips and curves of his body, just barely hidden by his tight t-shirt, leaving little to the imagination.
now that just wouldn’t do. you needed to see all of him.
“take off your clothes.” he was quick to do exactly as you asked, his clothes growing in a pile on your floor until he was clad in only his tight black boxers that did little to hide his hard and leaking cock.
you grinned at the wet patch on the front of his briefs signaling that he was more excited than he let on. the more you stood there observing him, the bigger the wet patch grew and the more he began to squirm.
breathing out a faux-disappointed sigh, you reached out and weaved your hands into his purple strands before yanking him down to the floor, his knees crashing against the hardwood painfully.
the sound he released was so guttural that you nearly stopped the scene right then and there but the way he moaned your name and rutted his hips in the air at the pain had you hesitating.
you agreed to this, yes, but could you really go through with it? you mentally shook your head at the sentiment. no, you were going to hurt him and he was going to like it.
with a new outlook, your stare grew harsher and your words became more pointed. “what a little pain slut, getting off on this,” you sneered, enjoying how goshiki’s eyes filled with tears.
“miss i—“ SLAP! the sound rang throughout the room, echoing off the plaster walls. goshiki’s head was whipped all the way to the side, a bright red imprint beginning to form on his cheek. your hand stung at the severeness of the hit so you could hardly imagine how much pain your husband was in.
you were horrified at how hard you had hit him, your mind too embalmed in the dominant persona to think before you hit.
“oh fucking hell, baby i am so sorry,” your current whimpering voice a far cry from the bitter tone you had held only minutes ago. you immediately dropped to your knees before very carefully taking his heated face in your hands.
when one of your palms touched the affected area, goshiki flinched away from you and the pain. you felt your heart break in your chest at the gesture, his eyes remaining downcast and away from you.
“tsutomu, you have to believe me, i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you rambled while tears filled your eyes. you were repelled by what you had done, your mouth pouring out apology after apology.
“i just thought it was what you wanted but i shouldn’t have taken it that far and—“
“yn,” goshiki interrupted, one of his calloused hands coming to lift your chin so that your eyes met his. “it’s okay.”
he looked at you with such kindness and love but you just couldn’t accept it. “tsutomu, i hurt you,” you pleaded, your vision becoming blurry with yet another wave of tears.
through the liquid in your eyes, you managed to see goshiki shake his head before taking your hand in his and leading it down to the front of his boxers. your breath caught in your throat as your fingertips met with the wet—soaking—cotton fabric that engulfed his dick.
you looked back up at him with wide eyes which he met with a blinding smile. “i came,” he said nonchalantly, “you made me come.”
he came... from your slap?
if that wasn’t the hottest thing in the world, you had no idea what was.
“tsutomu, i...” you couldn’t finish your sentence due to goshiki’s slightly chapped pink lips being pressed to yours in a passionate kiss.
your eyes fluttered shut as you gave into him, your arms coming to rest in his silky purple strands while your tongue pressed itself into the warm cavern of his mouth.
goshiki pulled away first, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to catch his breath. your eyes remained closed for a moment while you tried to still your own rapidly beating heart but when they opened, you were met with his wide-eyed stare of adoration.
“i love you yn,” he muttered before kissing you on the nose and standing, not allowing you to respond. he pulled you up with him (you always forget how strong he is) before burying his face in your neck.
you giggled at his childish behavior, one of your hands coming up to stroke through his hair. “what do you need ‘tomu?” you asked, placing gentle kisses around his ear.
“need to shower. ‘m all sticky.” you both laughed at that before pulling apart and leading him to the bathroom.
“okay but if i have to clean off your dick, i expect at least two orgasms from you, mr. ace.”
“yes ma’am!”
“god, i love you.”
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Word Prompt #14
Word: Octopus (suggested by @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt!) WIP: Thriving series CW: Oh, everything. Blood, tentacles, violence, fluids, guns. All of it. Word Count: 1,727 Additional Notes: I saw the word and I had to get weird. I could’ve gone completely normal and written a cute little light-AU fluff piece about Warren taking Thrive to an aquarium or seeing an octopus in the ocean on Earth but no. It’s fucking balls to the wall in the first half lmao.
Also it should be noted that I decided for no reason to set this in the timeline of Destiny. So Thrive and Warren are still just mutually pining at this point.
***
It hit them both at the same time. Thrive, repairing a form suit in the corner of the medical room, and Warren patching up a minor laceration on his thumb from an improperly handled utensil—they looked up in unison as a guttural scream made its way through every corridor of the L2 and into their ears.
“Oh, Christ,” Warren muttered. “If that’s an eliyi....”
“That was Armatax,” Thrive said, abandoning the form suit and striding out to the room.
Warren secured the bandage around his thumb and followed, anxiety already through the roof. “Whatever the hell could make Armatax scream like that is guaranteed to kill us and I’m just not sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment right now, Thrive....”
They traced the continuing shouts to the loading bay, and when the door remained closed upon them arriving, his shoulders tensed. More screams joined in, this time from Sussa, and the struggle ramped itself up to max level. Weapons fire and brute-force physical assault from what sounded like multiple sources.
Thrive waved the door open and his arm shot out to keep Warren back as he himself had to reel away from the loading bay to process the sight.
An enormous creature with tentacles—normal tentacles, sans sharp blade bits, but what was “normal” when it came to tentacles, anyway?—and a bulbous orange head swiping at Armatax and Sussa, whipping an appendage around the nuaclan’s gun and tossing it through the open door. The capsule sat upended in the farthest corner, shattered electric panels sparking and smoking around it. Rubbery flesh slapping the floors, the walls, every surface it could reach. Low-hertz growling vibrating the air.
Warren waited for Thrive to say something, but he seemed to be stunned and confused into silence.
“We wouldn’t be completely upset if you decided to step in,” Sussa yelled, taking a running leap onto the squishy head of the octopus-creature. She socked it directly on of its several protruding eyeballs and three tentacles curled into his body, giving Armatax a chance to dive for cover. “This is kinda your fault, after all!”
Thrive threw a barrier in front of himself and Warren right as a tentacle snapped toward them, and the impact resulted in a wet squelch. Warren grimaced.
“How is this Thrive’s fault?” Warren shouted. “Where did this even come fro—oh what the fuck.”
Thrive had caught another tentacle in his hand and ripped it from the octopus’ body, sending a wave of thin blood over the entire floor. It sprayed everywhere, splashing clean white surfaces with surprising yolk-colored fluids and getting it all over Armatax and Sussa.
Warren watched Thrive hold the limb up and stare at it. “Look, I know I can contribute practically nothing to whatever ungodly abomination is happening right now, but you need to go in there and...oh no. No. No, no, no, no, no—”
He’d realized what was about to happen seconds before it did, and he turned toward the wall, covering his head with his arms right in time to avoid the amber light encapsulating Thrive and shifting his form. A thick tentacle wrapped itself around Warren’s torso and he glanced down to witness it stretching and tightening across his ribs.
“...Huh.”
Thrive lifted him off his feet and bowled him down the hall away from the loading bay.
Warren scrambled to his feet and sprinted for the door, running headlong into it when it slid closed and automatically locked. Warren pounded the metal with his fists. “That’s really not what I meant and I think you know that!”
A fist-sized dent punched its way into the door and Warren jumped back. He listened for a minute, heart pounding, more gunfire popping off. The unmistakable connecting of fists to octopus flesh, and octopus flesh to octopus flesh, and the smell of said flesh burning wafted into Warren’s face.
“This is gonna give me nightmares,” he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “If you open that door as an octopus I’m aiming this ship in the direction of Earth and shooting myself out of the airlock.”
The fight continued for possibly hours. Warren was about to attempt sliding the door open himself when it blasted off its track and sent him sliding down the length of the hall again. When he stopped spinning he kicked the door away from himself and looked at the loading bay.
The octopus was wedged in the doorway, tentacles lolling over the floor slickened with its own blood. Another tentacle slithered into view, getting a hold of the body and gently tugging it back into the room, succeeded by a spark of amber illuminating the space behind it.
Warren stayed put. “Guys....”
Sussa, still dripping with thin but oddly goopy blood, emerged from the room and wiped it from her eyes. Armatax followed, less drenched but with his feather-like hair flattened to his skull. He spun the barrel of his gun and tucked it back in its holster.
“We good?” Warren asked, standing once more. “Everyone okay?”
“Yes,” Thrive said, back in human form and moving around the downed octopus. He combed his fingers through his own hair to tame it, out of breath, form suit covered in patches of yellow. “Let’s talk.”
The four of them filtered into the conference room around the corner and Warren perched himself onto the table. Thrive entered last, locking the door behind him, then whirled around to aim narrowed eyes at Sussa.
“Explain.”
“I’m saying!” Warren interjected. “Are you telling me that he somehow smuggled a giant alien octopus onto the L2 without any of us knowing? Does that sound like him? I think I would’ve noticed considering....” Considering he’d been with Thrive practically every second of every day for the past few weeks, but he decided against mentioning that fact.
Sussa and Armatax exchanged grim expressions. “Do you recall going to Rotanga and bringing a small glass ball full of green water onboard a couple of weeks ago?” she asked Thrive, venom in her voice.
Warren’s face fell into instant regret, and he pressed his lips together into a line, turning a wide-eyed stare onto Thrive.
Thrive, on the other hand, refused to crack his stoic façade. “...Perhaps.”
“Do you happen to know what was in that small glass ball full of green water from Rotanga?”
Warren, who was with Thrive when he bought the small glass ball full of green water from Rotanga, determined his fingernails were suddenly much more fascinating than this conversation. “...Was it an egg—”
“It was an egg!” Sussa exclaimed. “A microscopic fertilized egg not from Rotanga at all, but from the Lagisa Faction of Holeph!”
“Their oceans are rife with dangerous deep-sea creatures,” Thrive helpfully supplied for Warren’s sake. “I suppose this was...a misjudgment on my part.”
“I’m a little concerned,” Sussa said, pinching the bridge of her nose, which squeaked as she touched it due to the sliminess. “This is not the kind of mistake I’m used to you making, Orthrive’poliea.”
Armatax gestured to him. “Told you. They are both dumb.”
“You’re normally very careful about what you keep around us and where everything comes from,” Sussa continued. “I don’t understand how something like this could’ve slipped past you. Can you walk me through your thought process when you were—”
Warren glanced once more at Thrive’s face, and though he remained the outward picture of calm and blank, he could see a swirl of confusion and shame in his eyes. He must’ve been keeping Sussa out of his head because she didn’t notice or mention this at all.
“It’s actually my fault,” Warren interrupted. “I liked the way the water looked in the glass so I kinda peer pressured him into buying it for me. I don’t think I gave him the chance to apply critical thinking.”
Sussa’s attention fell onto him. She paused for too long. “You didn’t let him do his job?”
Warren cleared his throat. “I take full responsibility. I’m sorry.”
He knew she didn’t buy it. But he didn’t know how to keep her from hearing his thoughts, so all he could do was go over the lyrics to one of his favorite songs over and over to prevent giving himself away.
The sharp stink of the room settled on them like a fog and Sussa waved her hands dismissively. “Look...I need to clean and sanitize myself for four hours so this subject is officially dropped for now.”
She and Armatax left Thrive and Warren alone.
“That was unnecessary,” Thrive said at length.
“Didn’t see you trying to stop me,” Warren shot, leaning back onto his hands.
Thrive strolled into the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “You know the real reason this all happened, don’t you?”
Warren shrugged. “Because you made a very normal and natural error in judgment?”
“Yes.” Thrive stopped and turned to him. “Because my capacity for perception either heightens beyond what I ever could’ve imagined or seems to disappear entirely whenever I’m around you.”
Warren’s pulse quickened. “You gonna send me home for that?”
To his shock, Thrive smiled and glanced away. “No. And...perhaps I made another mistake in letting you take the fall for me again.”
“Well, you didn’t let me take the fall the first time. I did that very much on my own.” Warren watched him pace the room some more. “And I saw the embarrassment in your face. Sure, Sussa wasn’t exactly being harsh or even wrong, but I couldn’t let you take that from her.”
Thrive took a deep breath. “You’re often quite gifted at reading me.”
Warren allowed his response to hang in the air.
Almost as if noticing it for the first time, Thrive swept his fingers through a spot of octopus gunk on the stomach of his form suit. He paced back to the door. “I should rid myself of the evidence as well.”
“So you now have colossal alien octopus in the repertoire of forms you can take, huh,” Warren mused. “It’s just...gonna be like that for the rest of your life.”
“Apparently so. Not something I anticipated happening today.”
“What’re we gonna do with the dead one in the loading bay?”
“Ah,” Thrive chirped as he stepped over the threshold. “It’s not dead.”
The door swished shut on the color draining out of Warren’s face.
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unohanadaydreams · 4 years
Note
Okay so thirst ask (do you still do them?). Are we gonna talk about how strong the 'feast on dat pussy all day all night' vibes are with Isshin and Kenny?
I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep SO here we are. also, always ALWAYS do i accept thirst lmao. and we are. we’re absolutely going to clear the air about this!
First of all Isshin! He has a Technique(tm) that he swears by like it’s a family recipe or something. It’s horrible how cocky and cheesy he is about it, but it can’t be said that he’s wrong.
Like, you go home from the bar with him and you almost didn’t do it, but he’s so goofy and open that it was enough to win you over. And you get to his house and the talk starts getting awkward as you both try to feel each other out and decide what’s is or isn’t going to happen. He makes a pretty smooth feel, asking if you were so drunk you needed to crash on the couch, giving you an in or an out.
You’re so not drunk anymore, just tipsy. You’re just feeling the nice loose buzz that pulls a giggle from your mouth where perhaps your sober self would’ve gave an eye roll. No, you assure him. You’d rather sleep on a mattress.
And things are still a bit tense, but the decision is made and he’s getting a little less silly, a little more cocky as you move to kissing on the couch instead of just eye fucking one another.
It’s crazy how enthusiastic he is, how he holds your head between the palm of his hands and gives you the best series of kisses you can remember having while you’re inching into his lap, your hands popping buttons so you can scratch your hands down his hair chest. And he’s so built for his age, still a bit soft around the stomach, but you’re genuinely shocked at the firmness underneath and the build of his arms, not expecting find such athleticism under the loud, awful print of his clothes.
But once you’re in the bedroom, after he’s ushered you up the stairs with his bravado in his skills that you can’t doubt, not after he weakened your knees downstairs, that’s when you know you made the right call to come.
He kisses up your legs as he parts them and the way he makes out with your flesh leading up to your already wet pussy has you doubting you could stand even if you wanted to--which god you dont, you want nothing more than for him to stop teasing you calves and thighs with his skilled mouthing and stubbly face and just move that firm tongue up. 
Your wriggling and breathy pleas convince him. He finally kisses your inner thighs goodbye, his parting kiss emphasizes with a firm bite that pulls a cry from slack mouth. And he feasts.
He moves against your pussy, his lip forming nonsense shapes and tongue feeling and searching like he’s kissing your face again. Your fingers barely find their way through his hair before you’re cumming, the combination of his suckling lips and bristly facial hair forcing you to completion faster than you’re used to.
His face is dripping when he looks up, balanced on his arms, and asks if he can go again. If he can do what he’s been fantasizing about since he saw you in the bar and taste your heady juices and feel your gummy insides seize around his tongue over and over and over.
And it’s not like you can really say anything but yes, especially when hes rubbing the side of his face against your thigh, mindlessly kissing your skin, almost pleading. So you do what any woman who’s just discovered god dressed as a loud, silly middle aged man she met in a bar and nod as you push his face back where it belongs.
And Kenpachi?? He doesn’t have a technique. He has determination and primal hunger.
He tells you while he’s spiriting you away on his broad back, something he could effortlessly do with like twenty of his underlings, that it’s been a while, like he has some grand reputation you don’t know about. And you just assure him it’s fine. You’re about to get dicked down by THE Kenpachi Zaraki, after he showed up in the 7th division bar like he was lost. Who knew asking if he needed directions was going to result in a one night stand probably none of your friends would believe?
And when you get to his quarters, you go straight to the bedroom, past an open door with pink everything and you remember. Oh yeah. Oh shit. It probably has been awhile? And you’re feeling a little tender now, getting ready for something softer than you were expecting.
Which is why you let loose a shriek when he lifts you by your ass and pins you against his bedroom wall, immediately attacking your neck with the most intense hickey. You didn’t know hickies could fucking feel like that, didn’t know that someone could suck so hard it felt like needling teeth biting and marking your flesh.
Your clutching at the hard muscle of his shoulders, your hips grinding as the tip of his hard on rubs against your ass cheeks and practically yelling combinations of words and curses that don’t even make sense. You have no idea what you’re yelling.
All you know is that when he lifts his head, a sharp grin on his face, and chuckles deeply, “yeah it’s been a while,” your body starts to shiver under his gaze.
You can’t even get out a response before he’s on you again, this time tearing up your lips with needling sucking and lip splitting bites. Your thighs are clenched around him as tightly as physically possible while the onslaught continues, while he moves you to the bed and gropes hard, like he’s claiming the flesh he’s fisting.
It’s so much. So fucking much. There are definitely tears streaming down the sides of your face as you lie there and take attack after attack, driving you wild. You haven’t ever had this before. Not this viciousness. But you’re fucking melting under him, your skin hot and flushed, all the blood rising to meet your eye-patched maker, seeking his hands and mouth and solid body crowding over you.
It’s when his huge (god, how the fuck is that ever going to fit in you huge) cock, still confined within his hakama grinds between your legs that he pauses. He reaches down to feel his own pants, to feel the wet stain that you put there.
Your clothes were one of the first things to go when he slammed you to the bed and your panties can’t contain your arousal. You can feel your own juices sliding down your thighs, escaping the sides.
He’s smug as he licks at one of your tear tracks. “Too much already?”
You shake your head, “you tired?”
It was a mistake. He laughs like you told a real joke, like you had set up a punchline and kisses you again, his hands clawing your panties up your legs.
“All worn out,” he laughs, one of his forearms pinning your legs to the sides of your chest, pinning your entire body to sink farther than any body was meant to go into a mattress. “Should probably fix that. Should probably eat real fucking good to get my strength back up.”
Oh, it was a mistake. His words force a shiver through your entire body, just like his eyes had before and you realize it all at once. That you’re not some gateway back into the groove of one night stands and fucking.
You’re a meal. He is tired--tired of only having his hand to satisfy him--and you’re his fucking meal. You’re a sacrificial lamb to literal fucking slaughter.
Shivering and buzzing and dizzy from the alcohol and his arm pressing the air from your lungs, his long tongue licking up your pussy, tasting for himself what he’s already smelled, you’re surprised. You didn’t think he meant eating your
He starts to feast in earnest and your back tries to arch, only to be painfully restrained. You’re so loud you’re almost howling as you cum and he doesn’t pause. He doesn’t raise his head and asked if it was good or if you’re ready to return the favor.
He just keeps going, his big calloused fingers rubbing against the walls of your pussy until your moans tell him he’s rubbing the right patch of spongy nerves as he nips at your clit.
You can’t complain, because it feels fucking amazing, your pussy trying to pull his fingers in farther, trying to grip them tighter as your body starts convulse up again in another orgasm.
Mindless and humping up into his face, you’re losing track of time and your breath is almost fast enough to match your heart beat as his tongue slips into your welcoming cunt. His sharp nose is sliding against your clit and you’re drooling as his lips suck against your sensitive flesh, his tongue wriggling in search of your gummy g spot.
The next afternoon, you wake up to him opening the door to his bath room, already showered. He nods at you and you wonder if that’s your cue to go.
Because it’s not fucking happening. You try to stand and your legs are wobbling like you haven’t walked in weeks.
But when he comes back, a couple of simple onigiri settled in his big palm, you thank him and settle back against the pillows.
He stands there and for the first time, seems unsure.
You leap at the chance, at the first opening you’ve had since he wandered into the bar last night.
“So, um,” you say, swallowing seaweed and rice, trying to come up with something other than the horrible cheesy thing you were about to say. “What if I wanted to feed you again?”
He chuckles, husky like he’s talking for the first time that day and shoots back a question for yours. “You wanna do that?”
You take another bite, your cheeks heating because wow, this is all a lot more intimidating and embarrassing sober, now that you realize you’re going to be taking a walk of shame out of THE Kenpachi Zaraki’s quarters.
But.
The thought of last night wasn’t something any other man was going to be able to erase from your mind.
“Yeah.” You pause. “But only if you agree to carry me back to my division.”
And he did. It took a couple hours, where he asked awkwardly pointed questions and seemed to get more turned around the more you laughed and opened up.
But he did.
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connors-heart · 6 years
Text
to be human: [ch. 5. control]
playlist - ch. 1 \ ch. 2 \ ch. 3 \ ch. 4 \ ch. 6 \ ch. 7 \ ch. 8
[ being a DCPD detective, your job was relatively normal - that is until androids came along, more specifically, RK800 ]
pairing ⟶ connor x reader
fandom ⟶ detroit: become human
warnings/a.n. ⟶ waddup, sorry for the wait i hope you guys still like this story??? lmao, but i’ve got two chapters to make up for the wait, plus i had too much planned for all of it to go down in just one chapter so yeah, enjoy xx
w.c. ⟶ 2.6k
tags ⟶ @dragoste-lunes - @swagfeatpayne - @erinacg - @thequirkyn3rd - @the-witch-in-silence - @odd-otter - @randomgrove254 - @johnmulaneyslut - @fanworrior - @sophster1881 - @wowowokapowie - @glyxiebear - @snooper1 - @nefelislytherinpride - @madammarkiplier - @losersunitetonight - @ashtonmichaelhoran - @attackonmikaelson - @deviantly-gayy - @yuckybarness - @drastically-here - @100kindsofblake - @di-the-happy-psychopath - @angrilyangry​ -  @ystlumod-dyslecsig-deillion​ - @kickthenestor​ - @jeanxmarco​ - @pandemoniumambassador 
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credit: pleasanttales 
“If we leave this place without shit I’m handing in my badge when we get back” Hank mumbled, barely a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
You shook your head with a scoff as the elevator doors opened, “Well it sounds like we’re in the same boat, Lieutenant,”
The few days before had proved to be uneventful, to Hank and Captain Fowler at least. Your thoughts ran rampant in your head, the look of fear on the suspects’ faces remained instilled in your vision. It made you question whether or not you truly were cut out for these cases, considering not only your bias on deviants, but your inability to separate the influence of your own emotions, and the deviants’, from your decision making.
You found that the last case had stricken a nerve. Given the context of the situation, the android appeared to be that of a mother to the child. It was a split-second decision to let them go, to keep Connor from going after them, but it was a decision you were sure you’d make again if given the chance. You knew the grief of losing a mother, you knew it all too well. And never would it be something you’d wish on another, especially not a child as young as the suspect was.
Folding your arms over your chest, you stood beside Connor as he knocked on the door of the apartment you received a lead to that morning, something along the lines of a neighbor’s suspicion of the resident being a deviant, attempting to conceal an LED ring under a hat.
Connor knocked once again, hard enough to make the hinges rattle. “Open up! Detroit police,”
The three of you stood in silence, jolting in surprise upon the sound of movement on the other side of the door. Pulling out your gun, which tended to find itself disregarded most of the time while you were on duty, you switched off the safety, trading a glance with Hank as he retrieved his own. Standing in front of the door, you kicked it open with a grunt.
You stepped into the home, the air stiff with a sour stench that burnt your nose. It seemed to grow worse as you approached another door. Drawing it open, the sudden sound of fluttering wings met your ears, pigeons lining nearly every crevice of the room. “What the fuck?” Hank hissed, stepping in behind you.
Your brows drew in together, bewilderment lining your features as you began to look around the room. Every wall was lined with faded wallpaper, large patches missing and decayed. Your gaze landed on the kitchenette, noting the dishevelled mess, many of the cabinets ajar and stained.
Careful to not step on any of the birds, you made your way toward a poster that caught your eye. It stood out against the rest of the bland apartment, and had no other significance past the fact that it promoted something about organic produce.
As if a lightbulb flicked on in your brain, the frayed, curled ends of the worn poster caught your eye. You plucked it from its place on the wall, revealing a hollowed crevice in which a book rested. You picked it up and began to flip through it, only to find the text was indecipherable.
“Hank, come look at this,”
You held out the book, the older man plucking it from your grip as he began to thumb through the pages, a mirrored reflection of your own confusion growing on his face. “Jesus, go ask the all-knowing android if he understands this shit,”
Obliging, you made your way through the thick crowd of birds and into the bathroom, finding Connor licking traces of Thirium from his fingers.
“Ew, Connor stop,” you drawled, your face scrunched up in disgust.
He turned to face you, his fingers still resting in front of his lips. Oblivious to your discomfort as his gaze fell on the book in your hand. You blinked, holding it out, “Me and Hank thought you could understand this,”
You watched as he scanned the pages, the LED on his temple flashing from yellow to blue in a haste. “It’s some sort of code, I’m not able to decipher it,” he spoke, looking up at you as he closed the book.
A sigh passed your lips, “Well that’s out the window, what did you find in here?” you asked, resting your hands on your hips.
“I found the LED in the sink, the suspect is surely a deviant,” he explained. You nodded, approaching the wall opposite of you with a squint, noticing the rapidly written letters. A shuffle met your ears as Connor made his way to your side, “rA9, written 2,471 times.” Your eyes followed the maze-like scribbles, attempting to find an answer in it somehow.
Connor glanced over at you. As if reading your mind, he answered the boggling questions in your head,  “It’s a common phrase among deviants. Our first case involving a deviant who’d murdered his owner had written the same thing in the shower, and explained it to be some type of savior among androids,”
You nodded aimlessly, “Something like a god to them,” you muttered in thought. You marvelled at the thought, that androids could have something of a religion the same way humans did, it was all the more proof that convinced you that these beings might have been just as alive as they proclaimed to be.
Looking around, you noticed the discarded stool in the corner of the room, seemingly tipped over in a haste. Kneeling down, you sat it upright before glancing back up at the nearly illegible scrawls that seemed to reach the top of the wall. Looking back down, you spotted an uncapped marker.
Picking it up, you noticed the felt tip to still be wet. “The deviant’s still here,” you spoke, sitting up as you made your way into the living room where Hank remained, exasperated as he stood next to the now opened window.
Connor’s eyes traced the room, blinking as his eyes fell from one object to another, reconstructing the scene before him. You watched as he made his way to a corner of the room, looking up at an opening in the ceiling.
Before a word could be spoken, a figure leapt down, spooking the birds into flight before darting out of the apartment. Hank cursed, “What are you waiting for? Chase it!” he spat at Connor.
The android made his way after the figure. Trading glances with Hank, you immediately darted out the door, sprinting to the roof as the lieutenant followed in suit. Your chest heaved as you pushed past the building’s fire exit door, running to the edge of the roof. You halted in your steps, putting a hand out to stop Hank as well.
Before a curse of question could leave his lips, you tugged him to the left of the building, “If the deviant goes through the UFD greenhouses, he’s gonna end up on the roof over there,” you pointed toward the building you were heading towards. Taking a final glance at Connor, you watched as he leapt from the roof, hot on the tracks of the deviant, before both you and Hank jumped several feet down from the apartment complex, onto the building beside it.
You pushed your feet as fast as they would allow, the dull thud of your heartbeat driving against your ribcage as you breathed heavily through your mouth. The two of you made your way up a metal staircase, leading toward the edge of another building. Biting your lip, you grew convinced that your adrenaline had taken control over your decision making as you pushed yourself onto the railing of the staircase before vaulting onto the edge of the building over.
Blinking, you turned on your heel to see a startled Hank. You motioned for him, “C’mon Anderson, you can make this jump,” you rasped.
You watched as he hesitated for a moment before pushing himself onto the railing with a grunt, stumbling for a moment before jumping with a holler. You grasped onto his arms, “Jesus, I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” he spat before you pulled him forward as you two began running once again.
Catching sight of Connor, both you and the silver-haired man breathed out in unison, “Holy shit.” Your gaze lingered on him as he jumped onto a speeding tram before jumping once more, grabbing ahold and climbing up a metal ladder.
You suddenly stammered, your gaze locked onto the figure of the deviant as they ran toward the end of the UFD building. Tilting your head, you took several steps back. “What the fuck are you doing?” Hank gasped out, stuttering in step as you shook your head, “He’s gonna get there before us, take the stairs, I’ll meet you over there,”
Disregarding the string of profanity calling after you, you leapt from the edge of the building, catching sight of the busy street beneath you for a split second before ducking and rolling onto the pavement of the opposite building.
A shutter of a breath passed your lips as you pushed yourself back onto your feet, running toward the exit as the door flew open, revealing the deviant. His eyes grew wide as they met yours. Before you could utter a word, he attempted to push past you, stumbling as you took a hold of his arm. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” you strained, wrapping an arm around his neck as he struggled to get out of your grip.
Nearing the edge of the building, he threw his head back, colliding with your nose. Staggering on your feet, you winced, going to grab your now broken nose. You felt him push at your chest suddenly, your feet tripping over the edge of the building. A yelp passed your lips as you fell, grasping at the edge of the building.
Connor raced outside, met with the sight of the deviant escaping and you dangling from the edge of the building. Without hesitation, he rushed towards you, grasping onto you as he pulled you up and over the edge.
“Fuck,” you hissed, partially from aggravation, partially from the pain of your nose.
“Are you okay?” Connor asked. You looked up, met with a staggering look of worry written over the android’s face. The feeling of annoyance subsided slightly, replaced with a feeling of warmth.
“I’m fine, Connor,” you breathed out.
“Don’t you ever do that stupid fucking shit again,” Hank shouted, running through the door as he approached you.
You raised a brow, “We almost caught him, Hank,”
“I don’t give a fucking shit, Y/N,” he rebutted, his voice raising in anger. You sulked slightly at the sight of Hank’s fury, you’d seen him angry upon many other instances, and never did you want, nevertheless expect, to be on that wrong end of that stick.
You shook your head slightly, “We need to make progress in this case, if that means taking risks then that’s what we need to do-”
“Risks? You almost died! If robo-lover wasn’t here to save the day you’d be dead,” he spat.
Your face flushed as a look of anger crossed your features, your mouth dropping agape, “I can handle myself, Hank!”
“I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it, alright?” he roared, closing in on you as he raised a finger to your face, “One more fuck up like this and you’re off the case for good.”
You watched through blurred vision as the older man stomped away, slamming the exit door open as he muttered to himself. Connor turned back toward you, his brows turned upward in a visible expression of pity. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been faster,”
He trailed off as you shook your head, silent as tears fell down your cheeks, remaining for only seconds before you wiped them away in a haste, “Let’s go,” you muttered, trudging past Connor and to the exit.
______
A familiar fresh scent filled Connor’s nose as the apparition of the garden flourished around him upon opening his eyes. Holding his hand out, raindrops fell onto his open palm, hitting the surrounding ground and river with a pitter-patter slap. He looked up to see Amanda at the opposite end of the trail.
A feeling of anxiety ran up the android’s spine as he forced himself to approach the woman. He nodded acutely, “Amanda,” he greeted.
She didn’t offer him a smile, her face twitching in an unreadable expression. She held out an umbrella, prompting him to open it and hold it above the two of them. He bit the inside of his cheek, anticipating the words to soon pass her lips.
“What progress has been made on the case?” she asked suddenly, her tone void of any hint of emotion, any hint to how she could feel.
“The deviants all seem to have a fascination with rA9, a figure they believe to be their savior,”
She went silent for a moment, as if she was thinking. Her thoughts simmered, before she spoke once again, “You almost had the deviant, from earlier today,”
Connor grew tense, his grip on the umbrella tightening, “You also nearly had the deviant from the day before. What stopped you?” she asked quizzically, almost relishing in chewing the android out.
He remained silent, his eyes fixated in front of him. Amanda stopped in her tracks, causing Connor to halt, turning to face her. She grew closer to him, her face beginning to twist in anger, “The girl. She told you to stop… and you stopped. You let the deviant go, because she told you to,” she spat, her voice beginning to waver in anger.
“The deviant from today… it got away because you chose to help the girl,”
“She was going to die if I didn’t help her-”
Amanda’s hand fell upon Connor’s cheek with a sharp clap, the sound echoing between the two. Connor’s brows creased together, there wasn’t a sting, any pain. But the feeling of fear that began to accumulate within him grew heavy in the pit of his chest.
“You should have let her die,” she growled. A look of disbelief too evident to be suppressed fell upon Connor’s features.
“Do you think I can’t sense the change within you, Connor? You’re failing your mission - you’re failing Cyberlife. You even fail to fulfill the only reason you exist. You’re a failure, Connor.”
Connor stood silent as she taunted him, “Do you understand what happens if you fail this mission?”
She stared at him, an indefinite look in his eyes, “You will be deactivated, dismembered, your useless biocomponents will be tested upon to see just why you were such a failure. Do you understand, Connor?”
He nodded silently. Amanda’s face fell slightly as she backed away, her face scrunching up in displeasure, “Last chance, Connor,” she spoke, dismissing him.
He began to back away, turning on his heel not before a final string of bitter words passed her lips, “You’re only a prototype, Connor. You can - and you will - be replaced,”
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fivescuddles-blog · 7 years
Text
they're not shit | will byers
requested: nope, but i was bored lmao (also, send me some requests bois!!)
summary: will's pretty bummed out about being bullied and the reader tries to comfort him!
characters: will byers, y/n
warnings: bullying, cursing, homophobic slurs, slut shaming
"Zombie boy."
"Fag."
"Queer."
Will walked through the chaotic halls of the school he had come to hate. Or more like the people in it he had come to hate.
Clutching onto his backpack, he tried his best to ignore the stares and slurs that were hurled at him whilst walking to his locker.
When it had all first started in kindergarten, he had hoped that he would soon get used to the bullying. Immune to the words aimed to hurt him. But no. It still hurt.
Reaching his locker, he entered the code and prayed that nothing would be inside. No. A piece of paper fluttered out and fell onto the ground in front of him, landing by his feet. He peered down at the piece of paper, yet soon wished he hadn't.
On the torn piece of scrap paper was a very explicit drawing (a bad one at that) of him and... you? Or what seemed to be you. His thoughts became assured when he saw the prominent red scraggly writing at the bottom.
"Zombie Boy and The Slut. A pair made in heaven."
He felt his face turn red in embarrassment, trying to process what he was seeing. Jeers and laughter surrounded him as tears welled up in his eyes. Slamming his locker shut, he spun on his heel and ran in the direction of the back exit, not before seeing you walking out of the left corridor with Max. You looked up from your conversation, your eyes catching his but before you could say anything, he had passed you.
You looked at Max with a confused frown. "Wonder where Will was going?"
She shrugged and you both continued on the way to your locker, which was coincidentally right next to Will's. You opened the door to your locker, not noticing the small piece of paper next to your feet. However, Max did. Her eyes widened and she grabbed your shoulder.
You looked towards her, confused. "What?"
She nodded downwards, causing you to shift your attention to the floor. You stopped everything, all movement and just stared. Your mind was wild with thoughts.
Who did this?
Why would they do this?
Your brain was hectic before a sudden realisation hit you.
Will. This was the reason he had ran off in such a hurry. Without saying anything to Max you ran off, ignoring her cries of protest.
You had to find Will.
Meanwhile, Will had ran to your place. The place where the both of you went to just calm down and be alone together. At the back of the school in the gardens, there was a small hole through the bushes, and through this was a little patch of grass perfect for two teens to bond and talk together.
However, this time he was alone. And crying silently, tears running down his face while he buried his head into his knees. He hated how he let them get to him. It made him an easy target, he knew this. But he couldn't help it.
Suddenly, he looked up.
Footsteps. Coming this way.
Oh no, he thought, trying desperately to wipe his wet cheeks. He knew that the only person who would follow him down here would be the bullies or...
You.
A hand appeared through the hole, followed by a shoulder, and soon your entire body was through and you stood looking at Will. He froze and just stared. There was a moment of silence before you stepped forward, fell to your knees, and pulled him into a tight hug. Not thinking of the consequences or the judgement, he collapsed into your arms, sobbing quietly into your shoulder while your sweater muffled the sad noise.
He felt safe.
You felt your heart breaking for him. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to feel like shit all the time.
"It was Troy again." You whispered.
He pulled away and looked up at you, the tears still glistening in his eyes. "How do you know? There wasn't a name or anything.."
"Who else would it be?" You replied with a small smile.
He looked down, the tracks on his cheeks made very clear by the sunlight. You bit your lip, hesitating slightly.
Will was your best friend. You had both been friends since kindergarten, sticking together through thick and thin. All of the name calling and bullying, everything. Mike and yourself knew him better than anyone. And you knew the pain he was going through right now, you had went through it yourself.
"I know it's hard, Will. People always tell you to just ignore them and it'll stop, but it doesn't," you began, looking into his eyes. "but you've got to remember, okay? You're strong. One of the strongest people I know. You're so... amazing! For lack of a better word, I suppose." You grinned at him, taking his hand in yours.
He smiled back at you lightly, a small blush settling itself on his pale cheeks.
"You are a much better person than them, got it? They only do it because they're so fucking jealous that you have actual people who like you. Who like you for you, Will." You continue on with your speech, pretending to not notice your pink cheeks and hoping he didn't notice either. Spoiler alert: he did.
The rest of your break was just spent cuddling and talking softly together, sharing giggles and secrets you'd only ever tell each other.
The pure moments were cut off by a sharp bell cutting through the atmosphere. You both sighed and stood up, dusting yourselves off and preparing to go back through the bush. Just before you went to go your separate ways to class, you turned to him and looked him dead in the eyes intensely. He gave you confused wide eyes.
"What?" He questioned, his tone seeming bewildered.
"Promise me to remember this one thing."
"Okay?"
"They're not shit. You get it?"
He laughed and nodded, saluting you jokingly.
"Got it. They're not shit."
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emmerrr · 7 years
Note
♖ andreil pls (bc as Charles Boyle would say "That's the most intimate thing you can do to a lover with your fingers")
listEN I lost it when I saw this in my askbox, charles is who I thought of immediately when I saw that prompt! I’m gonna combine it with some other prompts I hope that’s okay!
anonymous asked: i’m living for these prompts! i love your writing! everything is so soft and lovely 😊 😍❤️ if you have time can you do andreil and ♟?? it seems to suit them ;) [thank you so much :) ]
anonymous asked:♗ Andreil I love your writing!!! [thanks!]
anonymous asked:Andreil prompt; ♢: Forehead or cheek kisses
anonymous asked:hello, could i please have ♣ or ♚ with andreil? btw just wanted to tell you how much i love the fics you write. you’re a wonderful writer and i adore you [thanks you’re the sweetest!]
♖: Having their hair washed by the other
♟: Patching up a wound
♗: One falling asleep with their head in the other’s lap.
♢: Forehead or cheek kisses
♣: Back scratches or ♚: Head scratches
SUPER COMBO. LET’S GO! read on ao3]
as of now, I only have one andreil prompt left to do but I think I’m probably gonna leave it a few weeks because I want to do something christmassy with it. bear with me, anon! also I wrote a renison prompt which you can find here if that’s your thing.
please don’t send me anymore! :)
*warnings for brief blood mention and a minor injury.*
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Neil said, looking up from the sports pages with a frown. There was an article in there about Kevin that Neil wanted to cut out and frame just to annoy Andrew.
The man himself was leaning against the kitchen counter, a bread-roll in his hand that he was slicing with a sharp knife, the blade inching ever closer to Andrew’s palm.
“Do what,” Andrew asked with absolutely no inflection.
“That,” Neil said. Andrew knew full-well what he was talking about; it had been brought up many times before. “One of these days you’re going to cut your hand, and I won’t feel sorry for you.”
The look Andrew shot Neil was dripping with derision. “I do this nearly every day and it hasn’t happened yet.”
“It only takes once.”
Andrew rolled his eyes but made no further reply, and Neil returned his attention to the paper, Kevin’s triumphant game-winning grin staring back at him. The season had just drawn to a close, Kevin’s team narrowly beating out Matt’s in the final. Neil and Andrew’s team had lost to Kevin’s in the semi-final; it still stung, but Neil was proud anyway, of himself and Andrew and the rest of their team. He was even prouder of Kevin.
For now though, he was just looking forward to an extended break. He’d been quietly pleased when Andrew had joined him for a run this morning, and now back, he was planning on hopping in the shower as soon as he’d finished with the paper. Maybe he’d be able to convince Andrew to join him there, too.
“Neil.”
“Hm?”
“You can say ‘I told you so’ if you want.”
“What?” Neil looked up and Andrew was holding his hand over the sink, dripping blood. “Oh fuck, Andrew.”
Neil was out of his chair in an instant and over to the sink. He took Andrew’s wrist and gently turned it over so he could see the wound. Across Andrew’s palm was a thin line; not deep, but still bleeding.
“Is it deep?” Andrew asked. He wasn’t looking at his injured hand but the slight furrow on his brow indicated that it was causing him some discomfort. “I’m not going to the hospital. If it needs stitches, you can do it.”
“It’s not that bad,” Neil said. He turned the tap on and rinsed Andrew’s hand underneath, then grabbed some kitchen paper and stuffed it onto the cut until he could hunt down their well-stocked first-aid kit. “You won’t need stitches.”
He pulled Andrew over to the kitchen table and sat him down, then took Andrew’s other hand and pressed it against the paper towels. “Hold those there, I’ll be right back.”
It took Neil a couple of minutes to track down the first-aid kit in the bathroom. It got more use than he’d like, thanks to the rough nature of their jobs, not to mention Neil was a little accident-prone.
Back in the kitchen, he sat down opposite Andrew and dug through the kit, pulling out disinfectant and bandages. He held his hand out expectantly, and Andrew dropped his injured one straight into it.
Neil carefully pulled away the paper towels and put them aside. “This might sting a little,” he said, and set about cleaning the wound with disinfectant.
Andrew sat through the whole thing in stoic silence, not even a wince as Neil cleaned him up then carefully set about wrapping a bandage around his hand. It wasn’t until Neil was finishing up and taping the bandage in place that Andrew finally spoke up.
“Just fucking say it, Neil.”
“I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’,” Neil said with a sigh. He pressed down on the tape and inspected his handiwork. Satisfied, he got up and packed the first-aid kit away, aware of Andrew watching him the entire time. He smiled, then leaned down and kissed Andrew’s forehead. “I did fucking tell you, though.”
“There it is.”
As it happened, Andrew did end up in the shower with Neil, albeit more out of necessity than anything else. They had to bag his hand so the bandage didn’t get wet, and showering one-handed wasn’t exactly the easiest of tasks.
Neil hurriedly washed his own hair then turned his attention to Andrew. The second his fingers were in Andrew’s hair, hazel eyes slid shut.
“I remember,” Neil said thoughtfully as he lathered up Andrew’s blond hair, “when you had to do this for me.”
Andrew’s eyes flickered back open. “Well, if we’re taking a trip down memory lane, that’s not the only thing I did for you.”
Only Andrew could reference a blow job with such a disinterested expression, and Neil snorted a laugh. “I could do that too. If you want.”
Andrew hummed, considering. “Maybe later. Tired.”
“Okay,” Neil said fondly, before gently guiding Andrew’s head under the spray to rinse him off. “Now. Do you want the conditioner that smells like mangoes or the one that smells like vanilla?”
Andrew eyed the mango one with great distaste. “Vanilla. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Neil repeated, smiling as he squeezed some out into his hand. He worked it into Andrew’s hair. “So. What do you wanna do for the rest of the day.”
Andrew shrugged. “Nap first. I don’t care what we do later.”
“What do you need a nap for?”
Andrew glanced up at Neil. “Someone got me out of bed ridiculously early to go for a run.”
“Hey,” Neil chided. “You got up of your own accord. It’s not my fault you couldn’t bear to be without me for an hour.”
Andrew’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t deny it.
Neil grinned. With Andrew, it was so often in what he didn’t say, and Neil took these victories where he could.
Once out of the shower and dressed, Neil went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and clean up the mess Andrew had made when he cut his hand.
When it was tidy, Neil leaned back against the counter and waited for the coffee machine to beep. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages. There were three unread; one from Matt, one from Nicky, one from Allison. He replied to Matt’s and Allison’s, but Andrew was going to call Nicky later anyway, so Neil could talk to him then.
He poured out two mugs of coffee and made his way over to the living room, but he paused in the doorway and watched for a moment because Andrew seemed to be having some sort of muted stand-off with the cats.
Andrew was sitting on the far seat of the sofa, glaring down at Sir and King who had spread themselves over the rest of it. They were clearly getting in the way of Andrew’s napping idea.
Neil cleared his throat lightly and Andrew looked up. “Come and move your useless fur-babies.”
“You move them,” Neil said, entering the room at last. “Just pick them up and put them on the floor.” He put the mugs on the coffee table.
“If I pick them up, they win,” Andrew said stubbornly. “Also, I’m injured.” He illustrated this by holding up his bandaged hand.
Neil looked at Andrew. Andrew looked back.
“You,” Neil said, “are a ridiculous human being.” He hoisted up a cat under each arm and deposited them on the floor, then sat down and reached for his coffee. As soon as he was sitting back, Andrew spread himself along the sofa, resting his head in Neil’s lap.
“This is a preemptive measure,” he explained tiredly. “So the cats don’t jump back up here.”
Neil took a sip of coffee and laughed lightly. “You know that won’t stop them, right?”
As if they were listening, both cats jumped up within seconds of each other. Sir settled down behind Andrew’s knees, King in front of his chest. Andrew huffed a very put upon sigh, but magnanimously refrained from shoving them off.
“Look at that,” Neil said. “Progress.”
“Shut. Up.”
Neil laughed again and leaned back a little more. He carefully lifted his feet and rested them on the coffee table, earning him a tiny annoyed grunt when he jostled Andrew’s head.
“Alright, alright,” he said, and settled his free hand in Andrew’s hair. “I was just getting comfy.” He scratched lightly at Andrew’s head and then stilled his hand.
A couple of seconds ticked by, then Andrew grunted again.
“What?” Neil asked.
Another grunt, this time punctuated by Andrew pushing his head into Neil’s hand just a little, until he got the message and started scratching again.
“You can use your words, y’know,” Neil said, but he couldn’t honestly say he minded having Andrew warm and comfortable and safe under his hands.
Andrew didn’t respond because he was also incredibly difficult, a trait that was often infuriating but occasionally endearing. Such as now.
By the time Neil had drained his coffee, Andrew’s breathing had gone suspiciously deep and even.
“Andrew,” Neil whispered. “Your coffee’s gonna go cold.”
But Andrew was most definitely asleep, and most definitely did not currently care about his coffee.
It was fine. Neil would make him more when he woke up.
Moving with painstaking slowness so as to minimise jostling Andrew, Neil put his mug back on the table. Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and let the sounds of his cats obnoxious purring and Andrew’s soft breathing lull him to sleep.
He was home.
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