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meat--grindr · 3 years

Note

Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!

Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!

Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.

Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.

Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!

Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW

· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.

· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.

· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.

· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.

· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.

· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.

· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.

· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”

· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”

· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.

· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.

· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…

· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.

· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.

· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.

· “Billy? Are you…alright?”

· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”

· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.

· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.

· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.

· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.

· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.

· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”

· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.

· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.

· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.

· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”

· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”

· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”

· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.

· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.

· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”

· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.

· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”

· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”

· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.

· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”

· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.

· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”

· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.

· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”

· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.

· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.

· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.

· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”

· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.

· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”

· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.

· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.

· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”

· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.

· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.

· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.

· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”

· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!

· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.

· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.

· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.

· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”

· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.

· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”

· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.

· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.

· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.

· “Fucking lick Billy’s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”

· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”

· Then the world falls back into chaos.

· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.

· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"

· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.

· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.

· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.

· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.

· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.

· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.

· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.

· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.

· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”

#billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x you #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #ripper fics #hey everyone!#i really hope i caught all the errors #if not you didn't see them-i'll get them soon enough #please enjoy and my apologies again for getting the prompt wrong

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sugako · 3 years

Text

long day

kuroo x f!reader cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, consenual somnophilia/somnophilia, dom kuroo, rough, some degradation, oral (male receiving) wc: 1k a/n: this is so short i didn’t include a summary but lmk if i should (?)

Kuroo texted you around five telling you he wasn’t coming home until later because of work. Around ten you realized that later meant, much later. You were getting sleepy and he wasn’t getting back any time soon. With the gentle hum of the world outside you fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning without him there to hold you.

When he finally dragged his feet through the front door in the wee hours of the night, you were only vaguely aware of the quiet shuffling through your apartment. Your heavy eyes were glued shut and your mind was empty, full of sleep instead. The quiet clicking of your bedroom door made you stir just in the slightest, but it wasn’t enough to wake you.

He stared down at your sprawled form, face down and tangled in the blankets, taking up much more of the bed than you needed. His mind had been transfixed on your mutual agreement since he got a little message from you telling him you were going to sleep. With both of your busy work-life schedules, you had pre-emptively agreed to intimate touches if one of you was asleep. He softly pulled the blanket away from you as he palmed himself through his boxers. You shivered as your exposed body was illuminated by the wavering moonlight filtering through the window.

He had to bite his cheek to stop from groaning when he saw you were only wearing an old t-shirt and nothing else. In your erratic, prone position your ass and thighs were on perfect view for him. Kuroo briefly wondered if you had thought about him before you drifted into sleep.

Quietly as ever, he stripped himself of his light sleep clothes and kneeled behind you on the bed. With big hands wrapped around your calves, he straightened your legs out and spread them just enough to get access to your cunt. He swiped a finger through your folds just to see how wet you were, knowing you tended to get excited before bed even when he wasn’t home. You weren’t a dirty soaked mess like usual, but there was just enough for him to press a long finger into your tight heat.

When you barely stirred, he took his hand from you and straddled either side of your hips. He lifted your slack body just enough for him to press his thick cockhead against your entrance. You whined, still not quite conscious yet. Your eyes and mouth were sealed shut, all the muscles in your body still too heavy to move, but you could hear Kuroo’s soft pants and barely feel the way his hands were digging into your waist.

Smirking, not caring whether you woke or not anymore he slid all the way in as rough as he could. Your eyes fluttered as you hoarsely cried into the pillow. He didn’t give a second to adjust, drilling you into the bed as soon as he felt the hot grasp of your cunt.

“T-tetsu…” You groaned out, deftly trying to prop yourself up on weary elbows. One hand smacked down between your shoulder blades to force you back down. He was practically laying on top of you now. His hands came up on either side of your head, one holding your limp fingers and the other circling around your neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled into your ear. “Just be a good fuckdoll.”

His words made you shiver, but you gave a half-hearted nod and let your head fall back against the pillow. In this position, you could easily feel every inch of him. From a lack of prep, sleepiness, and the way you were squeezed between his thighs you were much tighter than usual. His hand tightened around your throat when you squirmed, a silent threat to lay still.

“Take it,” he grunted, moving his hips impossible faster. The bed creaked and shook with his harsh movements. You could just barely hear the gentle squelch of your slick over his heavy breathing in your ear. “You like this too much.” His hips stuttered as you clenched around him.

You whimpered into the sheets, trying to keep quiet as you were fully pulled from your sleepy state.

“I’ve had a bad...fucking...day…” He punctuated each harsh word with an equally harsh thrust. “You’re lucky I’m so fucking generous,” Kuroo whispered as he forced his hand into the tight squeeze between your body and the mattress to rub hard at your swollen clit.

He continued drilling into you, the only sound in the air was the smack of your body’s meeting and your combined pants. In your hazy state, it took longer than usual for the coil in your stomach to snap and you could tell he was getting impatient. His strokes both around your clit and into your aching, abused cunt were getting sloppier by the second. Just as he was readying himself to give up he tweaked your sensitive bud just right, sending you right off the edge of a bone-shaking orgasm.

His cock, being sucked and squeezed by your spasming cunt couldn’t take much more. Before you knew what was happening, he had pulled out of you, flipped you around, and sat you up so your mouth was level with his glistening cock. Obediently, you opened your mouth, laying your tongue flat as he rested his heavy length against your lips. He hurriedly tugged himself with one hand, the other gripping the back of your skull to keep you upright.

As he glowered down to stare into your drooping eyes, he came in thick hot spurts that pooled on your tongue and shot down your throat. You swallowed him frantically, dreading what he would do if a little dribbled out of the side of your mouth. When his shoulders drooped and you knew he was basically finished, you swirled your tongue around his sensitive tip, eagerly cleaning him and tasting yourself. At last, when you had sucked him sensitive and dry, he dropped your head and let you fall back onto the bed.

“That’s my good girl.” Kuroo moaned as he sank down on top of you. His weight was a comfort as he nestled his head into your chest and wrapped his arms around you. Sleepiness fell upon you once again, tired from being so well-fucked. He kissed over your left breast, muttering something indistinctly about anatomy. You pulled the blanket that had been tossed aside over his waist and wound your arms around him, drifting back into sleep.

#kuroo x reader #kuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro drabble #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #hq imagine #kuroo smut #kuro smut #kuroo tetsuro smut

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keys-to-the-kinkdom · 3 years

Note

Head empty, just lactation+medical examination+(oh idk *spins wheel*) yennefer or ciri or eskel, someone with lovely tits

Wish I had something better for you for an inaugural prompt set but my brain clocked out early for the weekend - 💛

Your prompt is wonderful even if your brain took off early because it has been living rent free in my head since I got it. I hope you enjoy this filth <3

Eskel squirmed on the hard wooden chair. The door remained firmly shut, no matter how he stared at it. They were using one of the old tower rooms having decreed that Yennefer’s room was too familiar and the old medical suite held too many past terrors. Instead, they’d set up this room. Eskel had helped her to carry in a variety of furniture then left her to it. Really, he had very little idea what lay behind the door and every minute he sat waiting to find out was another moment of torture.

The door opened and Yennefer stepped out. She was wearing a very plain black dress with practical boots and no jewellery. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She looked even more intimidating than normal.

‘Eskel?’ she said, sounding bored.

He stood and made his way through the door behind her. The room was brightly lit by torches and there was a cheerful fire burning in the hearth. One side of the room was taken up by a large, paper covered desk with an uncomfortable looking chair behind it. There were a couple of bookshelves that were filled with esoteric texts on medicine and anatomy. On the other side of the room was a bed, covered in a sheet of linen that had been treated with beeswax to make it water resistant. It was something he’d only ever seen court physicians use. Beside the bed was a table with a tray of various implements resting on the top. Other implements were arrayed on shelves around the room. He swallowed thickly.

‘Take a seat,’ Yennefer ordered, gesturing to the bed.

He sat.

‘So. What are you here for?’ she asked.

‘Umm…’ Eskel murmured, ducking his head so that his fringe flopped over his face.

‘Spit it out. I have other patients to see. I doubt it’s anything I’ve not heard before.’

‘Well, it’s my chest,’ he said, trying to spit the words out as quickly as possible. Even though they’d spoken about this, even although he knew she knew what he was going to say already, a tendril of humiliation still snuck through him.

‘What about it?’

‘It’s… well, it’s odd. I seem to be… well… I seem to be lactating.’

‘I see,’ she said, looking him up and down. ‘I assume there’s no chance of pregnancy?’

‘No, I mean, I don’t really have the right plumbing.’ To his embarrassment he let out a ridiculous stangled laugh.

Yennefer simply looked at him until he flushed and bowed his head.

‘So, I am to understand that you are a male, with a penis and testicles and you have begun experiencing lactation?’ she asked.

He felt a burst of embarrassed arousal at the clinical way she discussed his body. He nodded at her, temporarily unable to find words.

‘Well, that is unusual. Perhaps this won’t be a complete waste of my time then. Take off your shirt and I’ll have a look.’

He had known he was going to be asked for this. He had specifically worn a soft, loose shirt that was easy to remove, just for this purpose. Yet, still his face burned as he undid his buttons and pulled the shirt over his head. He sat, twisting it in his hands. Yennefer looked down her nose at him.

‘Set it on the chair,’ she ordered, waving a hand at a low stool that sat by the bed.

He folded it carefully and set it down. She was kind enough not to call him on the fact that he was blatantly stalling for time. He felt suddenly too big for the room. He hunched over, trying to avoid Yennefer’s gaze. His chest ached lightly and there was a slight draft winding its way under the door making goosebumps shiver into life along his arms. Yennefer stepped closer to the bed and adjusted the thin pillow that lay at the top.

‘Lie down,’ she said. ‘Have you experienced any pain? Swelling? How often would you say you are discharging?’

He kicked his boots off and lay back on the bed. The sheet was cold and a little tacky under his back. It was surprisingly difficult to resist the urge to cross his arms across his chest. It was an incredibly vulnerable feeling, lying half-naked under Yennefer’s penetrating gaze. For all she was slight, she wasn’t a small woman and his position only emphasised her height.

‘They ache a little,’ he admitted. ‘They’re larger than they were, but there’s no lumps or anything. I need to discharge at least twice a day, but…’ he trailed off for a moment. ‘Sometimes they leak a little, in between,’ he whispered.

‘Hmm.’

She stepped closer to the edge of the bed, close enough that he could feel her warmth against his arm, even although she wasn’t touching him. He drew in a lungful of her scent, warm and feminine and overlaid by her characteristic perfume. It was familiar, but not particularly comforting. He had no expectation of her being kind.

Her hands were cold when she placed them on his chest. Her fingertips were like little points of ice that made him hiss in a breath through his teeth. She was unsympathetic. First, she palpated the skin around his collarbone, moving out towards his shoulders and down. She worked her way towards the soft mound on his chest and he groaned as she touched them. The coolness of her fingers felt good against the light ache of being overfull. She pressed, gently at first and then harder, and he watched as small beads of milk welled up.

She pressed her finger to one, sending and electric jolt through him, and then lifted it up. She smelled the liquid and rubbed it between her fingers.

‘You do, indeed, appear to be lactating,’ she said. ‘How odd.’

She returned her hands to his chest and pressed against the nipple. He groaned. She pinched it between two fingers and pulled. It did very little, other than causing his cock to begin filling in his breeches. She did something, changed the placement of her fingers in some way and tugged and Eskel felt the distinctive sensation of his milk letting down in a stream. He whimpered.

‘Doctor Vengerberg,’ he protested.

‘Hush. It is necessary for me to see exactly how your body reacts to stimulus in order to give you the most accurate diagnosis.’

Eskel rolled his shoulders against the sheet, which had quickly warmed to his body. He endured as she pinched and pulled and tugged and occasionally wiped up a stray drop of milk that threatened to get too near her neat sleeves. Otherwise, she left them to run down his chest and make a wet, sticky mess of his stomach. He breathed through it, trying desperately not to show how much it was affecting him, but there was no way she hadn’t noticed the tent he was pitching in his breeches. Every tug of her fingers felt like it went directly to his cock.

‘I believe I may have discovered the problem,’ she said eventually, standing back and staring down at him. ‘When was the last time you engaged in intercourse?’

‘Pardon?’ he squeaked. That wasn’t what he had expected her to say at all.

‘When was the last time you engaged in intercourse?’ she repeated, in a voice that implied she thought he was simple. ‘Have you ejaculated recently? Been fucked?’

The sound of the word ‘fucked’ in her perfect, calm voice nearly undid him, but he held it together long enough to answer.

‘It’s been… some time,’ he admitted. ‘Three months or so,’ he continued when she simply raised an eyebrow at him.

‘As I thought. You are putting your body under undue strain by not attending properly to your needs. It is expressing those needs to you in unconventional ways. I can cure this, but you must make sure to pay more attention to yourself in the future. I will need to drain the lactate and I will also need to stimulate the prostate in order to clear the build up of hormone that is causing this. Stand up and remove the rest of your clothes.’

His head spun with the technical terminology. He peeled himself off the bed and stood, ducking his shoulders and averting his eyes. Yennefer busied herself over by the shelves of medical supplies while he stripped out of his boots and breeches. He hesitated with his hands on the top of his underthings. It was ridiculous, but he didn’t want to take them off. It felt like clinging to his last little piece of safety.

‘It’s nothing I’ve not seen before,’ she called over. ‘Hurry up.’

He swallowed hard and slid them down his legs. He folded his trousers and placed them on top of his shirt. He paused for a second, then hid his underwear underneath, face painted red with shame. He’d thought he was long past any body modesty he’d once had, but now, for some reason, he felt keenly every little imperfection of his flesh. She was going to be looking at him. Worse, he knew she was going to see him.

She sauntered back over with two pieces of glassware and a tin in her hand. She looked him briefly up and down and put the things she was holding on the table.

‘Good. Now, I’m going to need you to bend over the bed.’

He stepped up to the bed and bent, so that his elbows were pressed into the tacky sheet and his arse was pointing up. He tried not to think about how stupid it must make him look to her.

‘Can you hold that position without allowing your chest to touch the bed?’ she asked. ‘If not, I will need you to adjust so that you can. It will damage the equipment if you do.’

He wriggled a little until he knew he could manage what he was asked. He locked his muscles and pressed down into his elbows, determined not to move, regardless of what she did to him. She reached over to the little table and picked up one of the glass things. It looked a little like one of their alchemy flasks, but not entirely. The bottom was a bulbous sphere which tapered into a narrow cylinder with a thick, round lip. She held it in front of his face.

‘I will attach these to your nipples in order to drain the lactate from your breasts,’ she explained. He flushed at hearing his chest referred to in such terms. ‘It should not hurt, but it may feel uncomfortable. If you experience pain at any point, it is imperative that you tell me at once. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ he mumbled into the silence.

‘Good. Now hold still.’

The glass was smooth and cold against his skin. She reached underneath him and rubbed at one nipple until it was standing at a stiff peak. Then she slipped the opening of the flask over it and held it in place. Her fingers flared briefly purple and he felt a tight suction as it adhered to him.

‘Do try not to dislodge it,’ she said flatly.

He understood the order for what it was and held still as she repeated the process on the other side. Once both were attached to her liking, he saw another brief flare of violet chaos and then he inadvertently moaned as they began milking him. He didn’t know how it was doing it and he didn’t much care either, but he could feel his milk let down as the suction increased and decreased rhythmically, pulling at his nipples and draining them into the empty spheres. He had never quite felt relief like it before.

‘Excellent,’ Yennefer said. ‘Those will drain your breasts. As they work, I will need to perform the prostate massage to release the build up of unnecessary hormones. It is liable to feel pleasurable. There is no need to be embarrassed if you become erect or even ejaculate. It is a perfectly natural reaction.’

He nodded, still a little distracted by the tugging sensation around his nipples. It felt almost like a mouth, latched on and drinking from him, except it was missing the warmth. Somehow that tiny bit of impersonality made it even better. He was so focused on that feeling that he flinched when Yennefer touched his thighs, encouraging him to spread his legs. Her finger brushed his hole, dragging something slick and silky over it to create a smooth glide. She rested it there for a moment as he consciously untensed his muscles. He wanted this and he trusted Yennefer, but having someone at his back when he had been forced into such a vulnerable position was terrifying. Especially knowing that she was looking at him. His cock twitched and her finger pressed forward. He choked on a groan. It felt so good. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her it had been a while. The Path had been long and hard that year and he’d been reduced to the company of his own hand for much longer than he really wanted to admit. The feeling of her pressing her long, slim finger into his most intimate place was a heady one.

She pressed gently for a moment longer, then began working her finger in and out, thrusting slowly. The drag of skin on slick skin lit up his nerves and he felt the tip of his cock begin to drool with precum. He felt the tightness beginning to ease, his body accepting the intrusion as pleasurable rather than something to be rejected. Once her finger was moving steadily inside him, she added a second, making him whine and push back against the stretch. She repeated the process of slow thrusting and stretching until he had relaxed enough to take them easily.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now, I will begin the prostate massage. Remember, you must stay still.’

He nodded. He had no intention of doing anything to disrupt the perfect pressure around his nipples. He’d never before considered them particularly sensitive, but ever since he’d started producing milk, the barest brush against them could get him hard. This focused suction was driving him insane. He wanted more. As Yennefer’s fingers pressed deeper inside, he got it. She crooked them and pulled, pressing forward and finding his prostate unerringly. A garbled noise of pleasure fell from his mouth without restraint as she pressed insistent circles into it.

The torment seemed to go on forever. The suction around his nipples was steady and predictable while the pressure on his prostate was constant but varied in both pressure and speed. He could feel his pulse in his cock, could feel it dribbling a puddle of precum onto the floor beneath him. He wanted to blush, wanted to hide his face and pretend nothing was happening, that he wasn’t getting off on a necessary medical procedure, but it was undeniable. It would have been easier if Yennefer were a less attractive physician, or if he were less pent up and desperate, but she was gorgeous and he needed. The pressure and pleasure built and built until all he could think of was the desperate ache between his legs and the hard press of her fingers deep inside. He could hear the constant dripping of his milk as it splashed into the collection device and it just spurred his pleasure higher. It was all he could do to stay still, to not give into the trembling of his limbs and fall forward or give into his instincts and thrust back, fucking himself on her fingers until he came. He had to do as he was told and hold still though.

In the end, it was inevitable. One hard press of Yennefer’s fingers, combined with a well timed increase in suction around his nipples and he was lost. His vision whited out in a flurry of sparks and he shouted, his muscles locking up as his cock emptied itself across the flagstones. Yennefer gentled him through it, one small hand pressing between his shoulders, the other continuing to finger him gently. She stopped pressing on his prostate, but left her fingers in his arse to give him something to clench on. As he started to come down he groaned at the feeling. Her fingers were so long and slim and competent. He loved watching her work with her hands, the purple of her magic sparking around them and limning them with light. It accentuated the delicate strength of them. He burned with the knowledge that her hands, hands that casually wielded the power to topple cities and burn empires, those hands were being turned to his pleasure. As the aftershocks of his orgasm rolled through him, he bent his head forward and panted.

‘There now,’ she said, ‘No doubt that will feel much better. Stay where you are for a moment and allow me to properly detach the lactation aids.’

She withdrew her fingers slowly and carefully and he heard her cross the room to the small basin and pour some water out. There was splashing as she cleaned her hands of the slick. He focused on following her movements to distract from the tugging on his chest that was slowly edging from pleasurable into painful on his oversensitised nipples. It didn’t take long before she was back by his side and the pressure ceased. She detached each one with another quick flare of chaos. They were around three quarters full with his milk, the white liquid sloshing slightly as she set them aside. He whimpered and reached one hand up to press at his chest. It was flatter now, no longer quite so full, but it was still tender and aching from the stretch.

‘You can get dressed again,’ Yennefer said, crossing to her desk.

He stood and began the process of putting his clothes back on. His underthings were first, covering his rapidly softening cock from her sharp gaze. As he redressed, she continued speaking.

‘It seems that the problem is slightly worse than expected. Your breasts are producing a large amount of lactate and your prostate was rather engorged. It is likely that you will require repeated treatments to deal with the issue. You should take care to drain your own breasts at least daily, if not twice daily and you should engage in frequent masturbation. I would like you to return again next week for a follow up appointment. I will assess your condition then, but it is likely that you will require at least one further prostate massage at that point. I would recommend that you take better care of your sexual health in future to prevent issues of this nature arising,’ she said, staring at him over the pile of papers she was looking at.

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ he mumbled.

‘Yes, quite. Now, off you go. I have other patients to see today.’

He nodded and let himself out, closing the door firmly behind him.

#keys writes #keys prompt fill #keys lactation cw #keys medical/examination kink cw #dead dove #dead dove: do not eat #yellow heart anon

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bratconnor · 3 years

Note

Connor being turned on by Markus' strong hands and having them in his mouth especially as Markus fucks him over.

mmmmm, i think we can all agree that 💕Markus' Hands💕

thank you for the lovely 11/10 prompt anon, i had such fun✨

CW: explicit, trans!connor, feminine anatomy (cunt, clit)

Connor swallows down the excess cleaning fluid that's pooling in his mouth for the fifth time in ten minutes, resisting yet another urge to squirm in his seat as he sits with North, Josh, and Simon at the Jericho Leaders' round table for their weekly meeting. Markus is standing at the head of the table, talking them through some issues brought forward democratically by the New Jericho residents, and is gesturing elaborately with his hands all the while. His beautiful, strong, capable hands. Wide, square palms and thick, elegant fingers that curl artfully as he gestures. Hardworking artist's hands. Connor knows the feeling that each artificial callous gives him when those hands brush down his chest, around his waist, up his thighs. When those fingers trace his jaw to his lips and delve into his mouth. Those hands know all of Connor's most sensitive areas.

Connor hasn't been able to take his eyes off of Markus' hands for the entire meeting. He's been passively registering the information to his databanks-- the perks of being an android-- but hasn't yet found the will to contribute to the discussion, chin resting in his palm and eyes half-lidded. He's fairly certain he may be acting a tad obvious, but no one's said anything and he doesn't really care. He and Markus haven't had sex in days. It tends to happen, Markus hits walls of work on a fairly regular basis, and Connor is more than happy to help him where he can and provide him loving affection when he comes back home late and exhausted. But rA9, he feels like he's going to go insane. He misses Markus' hands on him, his fingers in him. His cock is nice too, oh definitely, but his hands are so capable, so strong and sure... and when Connor gets to have both Markus' fingers and his cock at once, it's rare that he doesn't short circuit at least once through their lovemaking.

Connor realizes a bit too late that he's started to push the tips of his own fingers, originally fanned across his cheek, into his mouth, running his tongue just barely across them as he stares at Markus' fingers and pictures doing it to them. He pictures two of them sliding to the back of his mouth and scratching down his tongue, stopping to hook behind his teeth, and has to stop himself from humming out loud, but unable to stop from slightly grinding his cunt down into his seat and playing it off as simply adjusting his posture. He's dangerously close to activating his self-lubrication, and pulls his fingertips back out of his mouth as excess cleaning fluid once again threatens to dribble past his lips.

Connor has admittedly zoned out a bit, and when he focuses in again, intending on going back to staring at Markus' beautifully expressive hands, he finds that Markus is staring right at him, hands frozen mid-gesture and a hesitant look on his face, yet his sage and aqua eyes hold an intense look in them. He must have only paused for an indiscernible moment, because he carries on when Connor's eyes find his, and no one else seems to react. Connor feels his face starting to flush cornflower blue, but he valiantly ignores it as he satisfies himself with watching Markus gesture about for the rest of the meeting and admires him pretty face, his broad shoulders, and of course his graceful hands, and really wishes that they could have sex. Maybe right on this table. It wouldn't be the first time. Connor swallows and shifts again, folding his hands in his lap and pressing them down against his throbbing clit as if that'll help.

When the meeting is over, Markus says, "Connor, can you stay back for a moment?", and for some reason even those simple words make him throb in his pants. He remains seated until the rest of the Leaders have left to their own tasks, and casts Markus a sheepish look from beneath his lashes as the RK200 presses his knuckles into the table top, leaning on them as he raises an eyebrow at Connor. Oh rA9, his forearms are bare and look so enticing, bunched with artificial muscle. Connor carefully licks his lips and drags his eyes back up to Markus'. He feels a bit disrespectful at this point, ogling Markus' body like an animal would a piece of prime meat, but he's so fucking high strung and horny that it's almost involuntary.

"You seemed a bit distracted today, darling," Markus notes, smiling crookedly. "Is there something on your mind?" So sweet, worrying about him.

Connor returns the smile, but it's brittle as he feels such a deep yearning at being called the pet name. He wants Markus to hold him. And also hold him down on this table, cock in his cunt-- or his ass-- and fingers shoved to the knuckle down his throat. But he knows Markus still has a lot to do today, and that he's wasting precious time even having this moment with Connor.

"You," bursts out of Connor's mouth before he can stop it. Markus looks confused, so Connor clarifies, "You're on my mind."

Markus' smile grows to become bright and genuine, so dazzling on his pretty face. He straightens up and makes his way around the table, and Connor stands up so he can meet Markus head on. Markus takes one of Connor's hands between his own and lifts it to kiss, grinning at Connor as he does. "You flirt," he teases.

Connor watches the way Markus' hands wrap around his, feels the strength in them, admires the contrasting shades of their synth skin. He swallows hard, lashes fluttering at the warmth of Markus' hands and his soft lips. He lets out a soft hum of pleasure.

"I miss you," Connor murmurs. "...I want you."

Markus draws in a sharp breath, his eyes going intent again in that way that makes Connor feel weak like he's running on low power.

"I," Markus begins, but he doesn't seem to know what to say. He looks so tired and so apologetic, and Connor aches a bit.

He takes one of Markus' wrists between both hands, pressing Markus' hand to his neck, dragging it up until he can lick delicately at Markus' fingers, testing. Markus shudders, seeming to have forgotten where he is as his mismatched eyes focus intently on Connor's mouth. He doesn't object.

Connor draws Markus' index finger between his lips, slowly sliding it deeper until Markus' knuckles are pressed against his lips. He sucks softly on the digit, and Markus releases another sharp breath like he's been winded, though that isn't possible.

Connor draws Markus' finger back out slowly, sucking the entire time, and then he presses his cheek into Markus' warm, wide, calloused palm, humming again. "I really want you," he murmurs. "I want you so bad, Markus."

Markus is silent for a long moment, and Connor can't read his facial expression, but his stress levels have shot up a significant amount. Connor starts to feel bad-- Markus is stressed enough as it is-- and begins to pull away, cheeks colouring from embarrassment this time, and he opens his mouth to apologize.

Markus takes that opportunity to push two of his fingers past Connor’s parted lips, his other hand reaching forward to firmly clasp Connor’s cunt, fingers pressing against Connor’s entrance while his palm grinds into Connor’s clit. He presses his own hips into Connor’s and has him pinned to the table, eyes burning with desire. The sudden pressure on his cunt and in his mouth makes Connor moan out, and he stares with wide doe eyes, lashes shivering, at Markus’ apertures adjusting as he gazes back at him.

“So this is what you were so distracted about,” Markus says, sounding vaguely amused and not so vaguely yearning. Connor shudders, eyes going hooded, still clinging to Markus’ wrist.

But Markus draws his fingers back out of Connor’s mouth, rubbing along his tongue on the way out, and Connor fights back another moan.

“I was thinking of your hands,” he divulges, unsure why he’s doing it. “They’re…” he whines under his breath as Markus strokes fingertips along Connor’s entrance, hand still between his legs. “They’re so… strong, and elegant.”

Markus seems amused. “Oh, really?”

“Yes,” Connor nods intently. “I love how you use them when you’re talking.”

“Hmm. Well, thank you.”

“It’s distracting.”

Markus chuckles, visibly regaining control of himself, and finally pulls his hand away from Connor’s crotch, both hands moving to slide around Connor’s waist and press into the small of his back instead. Connor wants to whine at the loss, but at the same time he’s relieved. This is not the place for it. He’s also a bit embarrassed at having been caught, unable to meet Markus’ eyes as his cheeks stain blue.

“I apologize for that.” Markus leans in and kisses Connor gently. Connor returns the kiss, resisting the urge to deepen it. He feels more worked up and frustrated than ever. “I promise, love, as soon as I can, I’ll put my hands wherever you want them.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Connor warns as Markus pulls away from him completely.

Markus smiles brightly, his eyes becoming playful. “I’d rather you hold me to you,” he says with a wink.

Connor huffs, bratty, and straightens out his clothes. “I wish you wouldn’t tease me,” he gripes.

Markus immediately frowns at that, clasping Connor’s face between his wonderful hands. “I really don’t mean to,” he says apologetically. “I promise, I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’ll try to be as early as I can.”

Connor feels himself relax a little with those words. “I look forward to it,” he says softly. “I love you.”

Markus kisses him again, smiling gently as he pulls away. “I love you too, Connor.”

#requests #rk1k #ask answer #trans implied

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heroloverangel · 5 years

Text

Anatomy Lesson

Helping UA’s top student with his homework should be fun, right?

“Alright, what’s this one?”

“The, uh...the belly muscle?”

You groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. “Come on, Togata. We just went over this. It’s the diaphragm.” It’s no secret that Mirio’s grades are awful, and as class representative it feels like your duty to help him study. You’d foolishly assumed you could bring him up to speed in his classes, but you’ve been sitting in his room for over an hour now and it’s like you’re trying to tutor a brick wall with your anatomy notes.

He laughs it off despite your agitation. “Sorry. I’m just not really good with subjects that aren’t tied to hero work.” That’s an understatement; he’s in real danger of having his internship suspended if he doesn’t improve.

“I know, and I’m trying to help you. But you have to focus, okay?” He shoots you a thumbs up and to your delight, actually manages to stay on task for a solid twenty minutes without getting distracted. You still have a lot of work to do with his assignments, but you feel much more confident about it now.

You take a quick break to stretch and arch your back. You unintentionally push your chest forward and catch him staring, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks. You’ve always thought Togata was cute; his friendly face and warm personality are a fantastic combination and the fact that you could use his abs as a cheese grater doesn’t hurt either. On his part, he’s about as subtle with his emotions as a punch to the gut. You’ve seen him accidentally knock Tamaki down a flight of stairs in a rush to offer to share an umbrella. It’s impossible to miss the clear interest he’s showing and you can’t resist teasing him a bit.

“See something you like, Lemillion?” He laughs sheepishly and looks away, concentrating on the book in his lap a little too hard to be convincing.

“Just resting my eyes!” He gives you that bright grin again and you drop the subject. “You’re a super good tutor, I bet I’ll start getting the top scores in the class after all your help!” Mirio flips the textbook forward several chapters to a random page. “Now, let’s get back to work and look at the--oh god.” You look down, curious about what’s shaken him up so much, and you’re greeted by an extremely detailed, graphic drawing of an erect penis. Honestly, it’s almost pornographic and for a second you wonder if Midnight was the one who ordered these books.

This is going to be awkward, but you’ll muscle through it. “Alright. Well, you’ve got the head here, and you can see that the foreskin-”

“We don’t have to do this!” He blurts it out, voice pitched higher with embarrassment. “I mean, I already know enough about my willy! So really, we don’t need to spend any time talking about it!” You’ve never seen him blush this hard before, and you’d be lying if you said you don’t like it. He quicky flips the page in a desperate hope of ending the uncomfortable moment and is tragically denied.

You should have known what the next heading in the book would be. Mirio lets out a defeated whine as the two of you are faced with, of course, an equally graphic picture of a vagina. “I suppose you know enough about this one too, huh?”

He looks straight at the wall, the floor, out the window, anywhere but at you. “Um. Not as much,” he admits hoarsely.

You’re enjoying the sight of him squirming way too much. “Tell me about this part.”

“That’s...that is...it’s the, you know...the clit.” He mumbles every word as if he’s being forced to say it at gunpoint.

“And what is it for?”

“...S-sexual pleasure,” His eyes are screwed shut, refusing to even look in your direction. You’re pretty sure he’s on the verge of just phasing through the floor to escape.

You point towards another sketch on the page, your hand accidentally brushing against his. It’s like he snaps out of a trance and freaks, throwing the book to the floor like it’s covered in spiders. “Haha, well I think that’s enough studying for tonight!”

There’s been a very unheroic idea forming in your mind over the past few minutes and you decide to throw caution out the window. “Not yet. I know you worked hard tonight, but I don’t think you quite get it yet.” He looks at you in confusion and you adjust your position on the bed, moving to sit up on your knees in front of him. “I think you might need a more...personal demonstration of that last one.”

Mirio’s eyes flash with realization just as your fingers slip beneath your skirt to your hips. “Hey, what are you--oh.” He watches you slide your panties down your legs and carefully kick them off without revealing yourself. He swallows and forces himself to look only at your face. “Wait, seriously?” You offer him a reassuring smile and sit back on your ass, slowly opening your thighs to offer him a view of your pussy.

You knew he’d be interested, but you weren’t expected the unwavering focus he’s suddenly directing between your legs. “This is still a lesson, Togata,” you remind him playfully. “I expect your full attention here.”

“Sure thing, sensei!” He scoots closer to you on the bed and reaches a hand out before stopping himself. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

It feels like the room gets 100 degrees hotter but you nod before you have a chance to second-guess yourself. His eyes watch you like a hawk as your hand slips down to spread open your folds, giving him a clear invitation to continue. He licks his lips subconsciously and your breath catches in your throat as his fingers lightly trace over your cunt, much more gentle than you’d expect him to be capable of. Your eyes slip closed while he teases you like this, letting out a shaky moan as he circles your clit for a few seconds before withdrawing. You’re getting wet the more he touches you, and it’s almost a welcome relief when you feel one of his big fingers probe at your entrance.

“Ahh, Mirio,” you gasp out and he stops. You open your eyes out of curiosity and find him debating something with himself for a moment before he suddenly grabs you by the hips and hauls you onto his lap.

“I wanna get it right,” he explains and tugs at your clothes. “I’ve been wanting to do...well, all of this with you for so long.” Your shirt’s being yanked off before you can object and he pulls you in for a deep kiss that leaves you breathless. How are you supposed to argue with such a heartfelt confession? You kiss him again, letting his tongue slide into your mouth at the same time you feel him lifting your skirt to bunch uselessly around your waist. His fingers resume their teasing, one of them slipping fully into your waiting body without hesitation. “You’re so soft,” he smiles at you affectionately as he works you over.

You occupy yourself with his own clothes, pulling at his shirt until you get it open and can run your hands along his sculpted chest. Mirio presses another finger into your pussy and you burrow your face in his neck to hide your whimper. He pumps them inside you, relishing the little sounds he drags out of your lips. “You’re really cute,” he says, voice nice and husky with arousal for you. “Come on,” he pulls you back with his other hand. “Let me hear you.” His thumb brushes against your clit and you cry out for him and squirm on his lap. “You like that, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you pant out. “Just keep touching me like that. Please, Mirio.” Your hands roam over his muscular frame, one coming to rest on his abdomen and sliding down until you can feel the throb of his erection through his clothes. With unsteady fingers you manage to pull the zipper down and get a glimpse of him. The outline of his thick cock is obvious, straining eagery against his boxer-briefs and leaving a stain of precum on the fabric. “Oh, Togata. No wonder you’re failing, there’s no blood going to your brain.” He barks out a laugh at your joke that quickly morphs into a rough groan as you squeeze him over his underwear.

“Good thing I have you then, isn’t it?” He’s merciless on your clit, rubbing firm circles against your swollen bud, drawing more of those sweet little noises out of you that leave his dick aching for more. He pushes a third finger in easily, you’re already soaked and dripping down his palm. The added stretch is amazing and you can feel white-hot tension low in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

He’s watching the scene in front of him with clear delight; the sight of you riding his hand and knowing you’re loving every second of his attention might be the highlight of his life. “Don’t stop,” you beg mindlessly. “Just a little more, please. You feel so good, just like that. Mirio, I-” His mouth crashes down on yours again, wanting to savor your orgasm all to himself. He feels the way your muscles flutter invitingly around his fingers, milking them for more stimulation as you shudder through your climax.

You come back from your high to find your face resting against his firm pecs and his fingers motionless but still buried inside your sensitive cunt. He gives you a warm grin and flexes them teasingly before withdrawing, making a big show of lifting his hand to his mouth and happily licking up every drop of your juices. “Pervert,” you taunt, but there’s no anger in your words and you don’t object when hie grabs you around your hips and pulls you farther up on his broad thighs.

“How far am I allowed to take this?” You can feel the heat radiating off his body, raw desire obvious in every toned muscle.

You chew your lip thoughtfully. “As far as you want,” you decide after a moment. In the blink of an eye he’s phased through his clothes and reformed under you before your legs can even hit the bed. It’s a bit difficult to wiggle out of your skirt without losing contact with him but you manage, and you’re even willing to ignore the sound of a strap being torn completely off your bra in his haste to free you from it. The two of you look each other over for a second, both feeling just a little awkward about progressing into actual sex and then-

“I like your nipples,” Mirio blurts out, destroying the tension immediately. You can’t help but burst into laughter at his outburst and guide one of his warm hands up to grope your chest. Mood restored, there’s only excitement and butterflies in your stomach as you reach for his cock, standing ready and erect against your thigh. His free hand holds you hip to support you as you line him up and slowly sink down onto him. You give yourself a minute to take a breath and adjust to his size, sighing at just how full you feel, with him buried to the hilt in your pussy like this. He’s waiting for your permission, and there’s a spark of fire in his eyes when you begin to move.

You’ve barely managed to set a rhythm before he takes over, not so subtly demanding more from you. Strong hands grip onto your ass, working you up and down his dick with little effort on your part. You reach for his shoulders for support and find yourself fixating on the impressive arms caging around you. You watch the thick muscles of his biceps flex with every move, coupled with the feel of his strong thighs catching you every time he drags you down to bottom out inside you, together has you seeing stars. Eventually you drag your focus up to his face and see he’s equally interested in the sight of your breasts jiggling with the force of his movements, meeting your gaze with an unashamed smirk. “You alright there? I’m not being too rough, am I?”

It’s sweet that he makes the effort to check on you, even in the heat of the moment. “You’re good. You’re--ah!” You’re interrupted by an especially energetic thrust, voice cracking into a jittery gasp. “Really, really good.”

His lips are on yours once again without a second thought. “I could kiss you forever,” he admits, surprisingly romantic as he angles you back a bit to get a better view of your dripping cunt taking him over and over. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight.” You can’t hide your moan, the tingle that goes through your spine at his comment. Mirio picks up on it immediately and can’t resist teasing you a bit. “You like that? Hearing how good you make me feel?” He brings a hand up to your face, lifts your chin to look at him. “Who knew you’re so cute when you get all blushy like this?” You wonder if he’s just trying to goad you into more kisses, but it proves to be a good way of shutting him up.

It’s hard to keep up with a man who has seemingly infinite stamina and it’s not long before it all threatens to overwhelm you. You slide a hand down between your bodies, intending to push yourself over the edge but he catches your wrist in a firm grip instead. “Hold on,” he warns, never slowing in his pace; his cock is rubbing against a sensitive spot inside you with every thrust and it’s driving you mad. “I’m getting really close, do you want me to pull out?”

You don’t even have a single brain cell left to waste on debating it. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

Mirio groans into your neck and releases your hand to wrap his arms tighter around you. “You’re so great,” he huffs out, lips trailing over your jaw like he’s addicted to the taste of your skin. He watches as you slip your fingers down to stroke your clit and between your movements and all his attention, it barely takes you a minute before you’re shivering with your climax. You’re hardly aware of the constant, steady rhythm of his thrusts growing increasingly sloppy; all you can focus on is how good he feels surrounding you, inside you, on the verge of filling you up and you love it. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking you through it, tone warm and rough as he mindlessly praises you. “So...so sweet, and pretty....smart and cute, nice and tight and wet for me…oh, shit...”

His words devolve into a needy growl, hips stuttering wildly underneath you and it takes all the control he still has to stop himself from digging bruises into your body. He ruts up into you one last time, fast and hard and you can feel his dick twitch within you, spilling warm cum deep inside your cunt.

You stay like this for a minute or two, listening to each other’s breathing slow and calm down. You glance up at his face, a little worried this might be an awkward ending to your hands-on demonstration, but the moment you lock eyes you both burst out laughing.

“That was fun,” you manage out through giggles. “I hope you learned something from that lesson.”

He nods, wide grin beaming on his face. “Class rep is a real pervert and likes it when I fill her up.”

You snort; it’s a good enough answer for tonight. Carefully you climb off him, your thighs aching from being spread open on his lap and your legs having a distinct jello-like feel to them. Mirio helps you gather your discarded clothes, apologizes sincerely for ruining your bra and promises to buy you a new one. You look around for your underwear, and to your surprise an arm snakes around your waist and your equally naked classmate hugs you against his chest.

“So…” He rests his head on your shoulder and you instinctively lean into him. “Are we dating now? I mean, do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He’s still smiling, but you can tell he’s serious. “I meant it earlier, about how long I wanted to do this. I don’t know if you noticed, I’m pretty sneaky about it, but I’ve kinda had a huge crush on you forever.”

“Never would have guessed,” you joke, tracing your fingers over his arm. “I’d like that-” You hold up a finger before he can celebrate. “-but you have to get your grades up and pass your classes, okay?”

Your new boyfriend agrees without a moment of hesitation. “I can totally do that! I’ll be the best student in the school in a week, just watch!” You admire his enthusiasm, getting caught up in his mood and find yourself pulled back into his bed before you have a chance to question it. “Can we study again? And hey, you should sleep over, that way we can have another lesson before class in the morning!”

You roll your eyes but your arms reach up to pull him on top of you. You’re not worried about his scores anymore, you know he’ll pull it off now that he’s properly motivated.

#lemon #mirio togata #bnha x reader #mirio togata x reader

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alkhale · 5 years

Note

modern au ace modeling???? PLEASE????

you caught me in an ace kinda mood, anon, u sneaky u

“You know it’s four hours, right?”

Ace’s cocky little satisfied grin settled over his lips. Hoku snorted in amusement, setting up her work station.

The art room toward the west wing of the high school building was fairly spacious enough. Windows lined the outer wall of the room, curtains pulled up for privacy in particular to today’s focus of study. Her fellow classmates and club members were somewhat acting in usual fashion, the few unaffected by the new presence helping to hand out easels and boards, sharpening their pencils and getting ready for the four hour anatomy study.

The rest however, were lost.

Majority of the girls in Hoku’s art club–majority of which had been the ones always eager to rifle through her sketchbooks and swoon and sigh over her choices of drawings–she did join in when it was the occasional Shanks though–were gathered in clusters around the room. They watched with adoring eyes, fixing their skirts and their hair, whispering and chirping back and forth to each other as they watched today’s focus of study.

Who, clad only in a red satin silk robe that actually complimented the sun kissed tan of his body ridiculously well and also revealed the muscular ridges of his chest and the toned muscle of his arms and calves and that he was naked as the day as he was born under there–

Portgas D. Ace.

Her–metaphorical brother? Friend? Housemate? Kin? Very important person. One of the very important people in her life she happened to somehow manage the hassle of living with.

Ace scratched his neck. The robe shifted, revealing torso and abs and more Ace.

A few of her classmates swooned, cheeks flushing and one flustered boy rushed from the room.

“Your teacher’s paying me twenty bucks an hour for this,” Ace said, lips curling as he crowded her station and Hoku continued setting up all her stuff and getting comfortable. “With a break and food–this is the easiest job ever!”

“And you’re fine with the fact that you’re only getting a sheet up there, right?” Hoku added, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Ace’s hands instantly went up in grabby motions. She sighed through her nose, relenting and handing him her hairtie. Ace shuffled behind her, gathering up her hair with long, larger fingers carding through bright white locks.

“I always wear the same at home–”

“That’s right, dumb question, you’re an exhibitionist at heart.”

Hoku squawked when he pulled back on her ponytail a little harder. She reached to smack his arm, but Ace simply grinned, the constellation dusting of freckles along his cheeks and nose more prominent. “Come on, you love having me here! Isn’t it a nice change of pace? You’re always drawing us at home anyway, now you get the real deal.”

“I’m foaming at the mouth,” Hoku said. Ace pulled at her cheeks. She swatted his hands away. “I only told you about the request cause they kept asking and you could make some cash, try not to fall asleep, yeah?”

“Sure, sure,” Ace drawled. He finally relented with one last tug to her ponytail–Hoku hissed at him and he grinned, crossing his arms behind his head as he sauntered off to the platform like one big cat. “Get my good side, shooting star.”

Hoku mimicked him behind his back. Her teacher came up, explaining to him the different types of poses he could consider. One of her classmates took a seat down beside her, finally in place.

“He’s so hot,” she whispered, face flushed.

Try not to get mauled by the high school girls. Hoku considered mouthing to him. Instead she laughed, shaking her head at her classmate.

“He’s the biggest, narcoleptic dork you could ever meet.”

“But he’s so hot.”

Hoku shrugged.

She tried.

Ace was an absolute bastard.

And she was absolutely going to get back at him when this was all over.

It had all started the way it normally should. Ace took position on the platform. Their teacher explained today’s assignment, four hours, four different poses meant to be captured, an hour for each. Hoku settled that she could probably finish them sooner or try something new while she was at it since she’d drawn Ace plenty of times as it was.

Their teacher gave him free reign of his choice of poses, saying to do whatever made him the most comfortable.

Ace had scratched the back of his head, looking around curiously while the entire class watched with avid, waiting eyes. He finally shrugged, grabbing the folded bedsheet and holding it up to his waist.

Ace let the satin red robe fall to his feet with a flourish, pooling around him like a ring of fire.

People swooned.

Hoku adjusted her easel, waiting for him to pick a pose. There was a bit of shuffling on the platform until Ace finally settled down. Hoku looked up.

Charcoal black irises smoldered right back at her. Straight at her.

Hoku blinked once. Twice.

Ace had one hand tangled in the thick mess of ink black locks, fingers propping up his head. He’d stretched out along the platform like a large jungle cat soaking up sun, bed sheet pooling dangerously over the sharp dips of his his, following a defined ridge line and teasing anything else. People positioned behind him were furiously working at the line of back muscles presented before them and Hoku stared back in disbelief.

Ace continued to stare.

Right fucking at her with that ridiculous face and those stupid hooded eyes while he was butt ass naked because he knew she’d get pissed off and–

You’re so stupid. She mouthed at him.

Ace merely winked, keeping still, looking absolutely content with himself.

An hour had passed since then–Ace had switched positions as asked, seating himself on a chair and turning it around so his legs hung on either side of the back, the chair’s back the only thing shielding his very naked front while he propped his arms on the top of the chair, leaning his head on them and dogging her down. His eyes smoldered mischievously, watching her intently and refusing to look anywhere else.

Hoku was almost certain the girl beside her was about to pass out. Or lose blood. Or both.

Stupid Ace with his stupid jokes and his stupid fucking staring. Hoku grumbled. Knows I hate being stared at for no good reason, asshole. Hoku glanced back to where chips of coal kept watching her and she almost groaned something ugly aloud, turning a page.

She’d drawn four of the ugliest figures she could possibly manage at first out of sheer pettiness. She contemplated drawing a ridiculous, gross caricature of Ace to top it off, but she had to turn something in and…

Hoku frowned at the blank paper in front of her. She glanced back to Ace.

He waggled his brows briefly, obvious grin hidden behind his arms before he returned to his intense, stoic staring.

Her eyes flickered to the potted flowers in the corner of the room. Hoku sat there for a moment, playing with the worn down pencil in her hand before she sighed through her nose, setting to work.

She might as well try something new out then.

She’d just tell Sabo on him later.

“C’mon, lemme see, how’d they turn out?”

Hoku ignored Ace, shoving her supplies back into her backpack.

A break–where many of her classmates rushed to Ace offering to bring him food and water and he promptly fell asleep three times before responding (he fell asleep four times during the modeling)–and two more hours later, they’d finally finished.

Ace had promptly chosen a cross-arms-behind-the-back look as his third pose, flexing a line of muscles and ridged abs from all the hard work he poured outside into all his jobs. The sheet had almost come undone until the teacher hastily rushed to reknot it (to some of her peers’ disappointment and her uncontrollable laughter). His final pose had been a simple one, sitting down with his legs spread–and the sheet over his hips to cover–and his arms resting on his knees. A comfortable position he fell asleep in until someone managed to wake him up.

And he’d never stopped staring at her.

Fucking once.

“Come ooooonnnnn,” Ace wheedled, crowding in her space. Hoku searched the room for a moment before crossing past him to her designated spot. Ace trailed behind her, sheet trailing behind him like a long train. “What’s it look like? Did ya like the angle I gave ya? What’d you draw–”

Hoku shoved his discarded clothes at him. Majority of the class had already dispersed, eagerly thanking Ace and graciously declaring that he had to come back and model for them.

“Put some clothes on, you dork,” Hoku said. “I’m hungry, so let’s get going.”

“Hoooookkkkuuuu,” Ace whined. “I wanna seeeeeee.”

Hoku reached for her sketchbook. Her stomach demanded retribution, reminding her that Sabo was making hamburger steak tonight and Luffy would be home before them.

Ace’s eyes lit up like an excited puppy, crowding even closer. She shoved at his chest, rolling her eyes and flipping the page he could see.

A stick figure with a triangle as the bedsheet and a stupid smile stared back.

Ace stared at it for a minute before tipping it down so he could peer at her over the top. Puppy eyes flashed at her as his lip wobbled, a pout on his face.

“You’re stupid,” Hoku said mercilessly. “I can’t believe you got paid just to be a naked idiot.”

“All bark no bite,” Ace teased. He played with the edge of her sketchbook, peeling back the next page. Hoku didn’t fight him, humoring him this time as she leaned back onto a desk and Ace turned it fully so he could see.

Ace stopped.

The other paper hovered in the air, blocking his face from her view.

“I draw you guys a lot,” Hoku said, only a bit sheepish. “I figured I might as well try exploring with something new with it. Your poses were pretty unoriginal.”

Hoku had sketched out with soft shading, Ace’s grinning, laughing face. The rounded curve of the wrinkles around his eyes when he laughed because he could only laugh fully and heartedly–just his kind of laugh. His head was half turned, eyes half peering back as though to talk to someone who’d just said something to make him that happy.

Ace turned the page.

His lips pursed into a sort of pout, head tipping to the side as though in deep thought. He looked dumb. Stupid. Arms crossed over his chest and–

Ace turned.

Several sketches of his face–different versions of himself perhaps from her imagination of what he might look like older. Different angles and grins and his older visage laughing about something and the future and the last one–

Ace stared at the drawing. A heartbeat. Two. He quietly lowered the paper.

Hoku was already turned around, shoving the rest of her supplies in. Her shoulders were relaxed, face content.

“C’mon,” she said. “I’m starving–”

“Hoku, c’mere.”

“I’m going to get–huh? Why?”

Ace set her sketchbook down. He stretched his hands out, fingers curling in grabbing motions. His face was set in utter determination, facing her down.

“C’mere.”

“No,” Hoku said suspiciously. “What the hell do ya want–I swear if you–”

“I really need to freaking touch you right now or I’m going to explode.”

“No! You’re making a gross face–no! Ace–no! Put some fucking clothes on first, I swear to god–ACE IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER I’M CALLING SABO!”

“JUST LEMME–”

“ACE–”

Ace laughing, in the last drawing, lips pulled wide, eyes shut from the force of it. His head was tipping forward a bit, hair curling all around him, hugging his chin and brushing wild and wavy like it always did. He looked alive and bright and full, full, full of life and–

Hoku had sketched a flower to tuck itself behind his ear. She’d started inking it in with red and pink ink, not quite finishing.

Bonus:

“Sabo, I have to thank you again for getting your friend to come in last minute for this shoot–it’ll only take a second! It’s for the midnight summer line and her tan is just like Ace’s, so she’ll compliment the color really nice with her eyes and–”

“It’s no problem,” Sabo laughed, walking into the shooting floor with his clipboard in hand. A pencil was tucked behind his ear–one of Hoku’s left lying around and she’d found it recently and thrown it at him to hold on so she wouldn’t lose it again but forgot to get back from him, so it was his now–white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a dark, navy blue tie knotted impeccably around his neck. “She said she could use the spare cash anyway.”

Hoku had also come rushing to him from the dressing room–wearing a bunch of clothes with curlers still in her hair where hair dressers rushed out after her, frantic about how to make her white hair look right–freaking out and gushing about the free cakes on the table outside and ah, Hoku.

“When you smile like that, it worries me,” Koala said absently, checking her own clipboard before glancing to the photo shoot set up. “Alright, let’s get started everyone! Is Hoku ready?”

“All dressed!” a worker shouted.

“Good to go,” the photographer for today said, fixing his lens.

Sabo heard Hoku’s muffled voice, asking something about a to-go box. He chuckled, turning on his heel as the door opened and she stepped out and–

Sabo blinked.

Satin white silk draped around Hoku’s bare arms. A few thin scars peeked through. Soft, thin straps of fabric looped around her neck like a halter, cropping short dangerously and loosely below the curve of her chest. Bare, smooth stomach showed for what seemed to be miles on end. Finally a pair of silk shorts hugged her hips, riding dangerously low and stopping just a short–thin straps started where the shorts ended, tight to her thighs before they stopped above her knees in thinly laced–wasn’t that basically a garter belt? Wasn’t that a–

The entire outfit, little that was there, was colored entirely in dark, satiny navy blue and–didn’t he love that color?

Sabo stared.

Hoku turned. She met his gaze and offered a lazy wave. Her eyes brightened and she pointed to the snack table in the back.

“Try raising your arms over your head,” the photographer suggested.

Hoku promptly raised her hands up as though she’d been ordered by a cop to do so.

Her top inched up.

“No, no, like behind your head, cross ‘em, hun.”

Crack!

The clipboard in Sabo’s hands snapped in half.

“Sabo? Oh my gosh, Sabo! What the heck–” Koala started, turning wildly. “Someone get some water and a tissue–Sabo’s finally cracked!”

- :)

#Memos #Portgas D. Ace #Sabo #Hoku #HASL #one piece oc #ace/oc #sabo/oc #one piece modern au #model!ace

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01010010-posts · 5 years

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— our love is a starred staircase; i jump two steps at time but you can only go one by one.

i. → becoming human. “and this is hen.” “mhh, very interesting.” “.... i hate you.” he unwillingly cracks up, slightly turning to the other side because, honestly, he’s not that bastard (maybe) “sorry–” he bites his lips, not wanting to be exposed, gosh, he really is such a bastard “it’s just that– well, how do i put it.... learning a new language from scratch, without any download, it actually is difficult.” there is it again, that devilish sneer “i swear to god, love” “okay, okay. i’ll say it. but please don’t be mad. it’s your handwriting. it’s hard to read. it’s so ugly you could be a doctor.” he’s doing his best, he vows, but since being deviant his sense of humour has highly been affected. you lose no time in emerging onto his jolly demeanor and begin smacking him “you’re not being fair! ouch– please! you promised to not get angry!” he refuges his hair behind his knuckles, while still enjoying taunting you “i’ve spent the past hour memorizing things with you and that’s how you repay me! and i didn’t promise that!” he lets you tease him for too little, and without even realizing it you’re in his grasp, frozen, sweetly pouting, a mouth that he kisses “you’re right, here’s your reward, teacher.” “did you at least learn something?” “ohh, yes, a wonderful lot. i learnt how to kiss you here, here, and here.” and saying that he follows his preaching, teaching you where he adores to leave lovebites. ii. → pieces of you between the pages. it’s not his fault. sometimes night shifts happen. but he hates them abysmally. why? because, as much as he gets bored when you’re sleeping, he can’t help but worship those endless hours he has available, basking in the lone presence of your body, recording each minute thing, with such limited time on this earth, then, he.... but tonight is a little different. he phoned you for a while (you had to force him to hang up), assured that you finished eating at a normal pace, didn’t steal too many snacks from the cupboard, watched something nice and got to bed at a reasonable hour. yes. he’s not your mom but he likes to remind you that his way of loving is varied. of course, soft words and i love yous and invisible smooching were not absent at the roll-call. he’s not only your mom after all. ahh, almost forgot. this is just routine. the deviant thing tonight is: a book. your book. your favourite book. you probably forgot it in his bag. but it’s not very important right now. he picks it up, the spine slightly visible from the black fabric incorporating it. it’s an ordinary book. he sits, and since he’s kinda alone, nobody prevents him from propping his long legs on his desk, relaxing in his leather ergonomic chair. reading a bit won’t hurt. the content, the plot, it’s not really important. what he’s actually reading is: your underlined parts. you normally don’t do that, you said one time. it ruins the paper, you said. yet in this one, this one, so important to you, you used graphite pencil to emphasize. mostly, about love. iii. → doing nothing. “i won’t stand for this!” he huffs in a bit of what appears to be the middle of an angry and annoyed tone. his arms hurriedly coming into a fold around his chest, he doesn’t really know how to react. you try to hide your benevolent smirk, an android this cute shouldn’t exist “why? you’re already doing it.” “that’s– that’s because it was your turn to choose what we should be doing this evening.” “so you’re peacefully protesting?” you urge him, now holding back snorting is almost impossible “.... kinda.” and at this point you’re nearly choking on your own laugh “you’re making fun of me?!” he finishes his retort and darts, indignant, sitting upright on the couch. so so so sorry but you have to cover your face with your digits and turn towards the other side because, honestly, you’re not that bastard as to burst into laughter in front of him (maybe) “gosh– it’s– it’s– pfft– i apologize i’m– ahahAHAHA NO PLEASE NO!” while you were, indeed, mocking him you lowered your guard and him, a weapon, took that as his advantage “PLEASE BABY” “ohh, we’re begging before i even get serious? my my, you’re quite weak.” his fingers carefully threading between your ribs, stroking your skin in a delicate manoeuvring until he’s satisfied with his revenge “you’re terrible.” he grins, both short of breath from being such imbeciles “i am.” he gently lowers down your crouched shape, half on the sofa the rest on the floor, and kisses your reluctant cheek “what’s the plan, then?” “don’t think i’ve changed my mind. i don’t want to do anything. i want to continue until i reach absolute zero.” iv. → your things // your place. he doesn’t need to shower, nor to bathe, and if he indulges in those activities it’s just to bond, he assures you. but suddenly it’s not so credible when you, wanting to surprise him, come back to your place without telling, sneakily unlock the threshold and tiptoe to search for him to no avail. you’re about to open your mouth and shout, to see some sort of shocked reaction, maybe a jump from the scare, but he’s not in the living room. and not in the compact kitchen. and not in the bedroom either. then, where could he be? you silently ponder, a tap of your shoe asking if he left to go shopping. but you know, the fridge is not that empty. could he be....? without letting out a sound you enter the bathroom, certainly not expecting the sight that presents to you. a single curtain separating you from his shadow. of course, you can’t resist the call. with a swift movement you pull the nylon and expose him, who can’t help but nervously shriek in distress “ah! what the fuck!” you cackle “surprise!” he sighs, exasperated by your childish behaviour, and turns off the water “is that my.... body wash?” your attention shifts rapidly, taking in the image of his fully naked anatomy but pointing an index at his palms “what–” he halts mid-sentence, his cyan eyes darting to his fingers “oh, well, huh–” “you’re using my body wash.” “i can explain.” “you always say you’re too upgraded for bubbles.” “.... my phrasing is not exactly that however i was just– curious.” “to try my body wash.” “yes. to try your pink velvet sunflower body wash.” “wait. how do you know the exact name. suspicious.” if his forehead wasn’t already shimmering from the droplets of your interruption he would be drenched in cold sweat “.... i analyzed it.” “you fucking ate shower gel.” “in my defense–” v. → what do you do when you’re happy. he longs for moments like these. for when you both come home, him entangling his arms around your waist as soon as the door closes, leaving a trail of tiny pecks from your shoulder to your lobe, slow as a snail, savouring each millimeter of skin, each little relaxed spasm your muscles have, each complaint you attempt to address to his figure, each tender giggle escapes your mouth. he longs for moments like these. the same as when your shared friends send a text at the last minute, asking if it’s okay to come over and then maybe go somewhere, drinking or eating doesn’t really matter, it’s just to be together. and you sweetly smile, a bit tired after work, but still willing to say ‘yes’, serene in the comfort of not even having the need to change into fancy clothes, only bustling with secret excitement, waiting to be in stitches in the back of a non-automatic car. he longs for moments like these. as that time you both got a couple days off and decided to spend them in a countryside house, clutched by vines of different species: virginia creeper, common ivy and climbing magenta roses. and as soon as the door closed you rushed, gliding on the worn burnt sienna cotto tiles, up the old rusty stone stairs, reached the top and opened the small cabin, only occupied by a toilet and a small painting (‘in bed’ by federico zandomeneghi. a girl with long auburn hair, facing a floral wallpaper, resting in a tranquil atmosphere while stretched out in her bed under light blue covers.). you promptly proceeded to push the wood window frame, letting light invade the whole space. he was right beside you as your head stuck out, inhaling the fresh air and remaining speechless in front of the sun, the sky, the clouds, the as much red roofs interspersed with yellow lichens and green moss, the rest of the panorama composed by infinite sweeps of earthy fields. he longs for moments like these. vi. → our things // our place. “don’t forget to brush your teeth.” he whispers from behind you, his face reflected on the mirror in which you’re admiring yourself in search of some imperfections. you absentmindedly chuckle “i know” your eyes fixated low, watching the drain of the pale china sink. logically, the most convenient way of getting the toothpaste to exit the tube, is to squeeze from the end and let it come out on its own. of course, he noticed, you don’t do that. you, as if reading his mind while he’s standing close, watching and mimicking a human nightly routine, do the complete opposite of what he’s thinking, pressing your thumb at the very start of the mixed aluminium-and-plastic bottle you’re holding. a tiny bubble forms where the cap should be and you hint a smile. infos bothering his vision at the corner of his irises: it’s some internet articles about teeth blackening, mostly persistent in asia. it’s somewhat fascinating to him, or at least, it’s different from the constant obsession with lightening. he wonders what you would think about it. he wonders if you even know about it. white gel slowly fills your tongue and coats the ends of your lips. you’re kinda messy, he admits, but finds it utterly adorable nevertheless. vii. → dying human. your hand. your hand is what kept him alive for so long. because, despite his appearance, he’s as old as an adult can be at this time of your life. your life. two parallels tracks that never meet, going their way, wanting to touch but never able to. you, growing old. him, growing and nothing more. because he can’t be old, can’t he. he will never be old. he must be about.... no, that’s stupid. no hypothesis could change anything. it doesn’t matter which numbers he should have in his ID – not that androids have any in the first place –, what matters is the inequity of your age “you’re always beautiful” you murmur “mh? look who’s talking” the end of your mouth curls up in a childish smile, wrinkles adorning all of your features “flatterer. i could be one of your grandparents for all you know” he gives you a lazy expression, lids half closed, nevertheless content, a bittersweet happiness. he takes your right hand in his and draws it near his cheek “it’s rough, c’mon” you’re a bit ashamed but he lets the warm rays of sunshine glimmer onto him, eyes slowly leaving space to complete relaxation “no, it’s tender, don’t worry, just as you.”

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littlemeowmeowschimmy · 5 years

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Sugar Daddy [Hoseok x Reader] part 5

As mentioned earlier this week, I’m putting out a mixture of old, new, and requests out! So here’s part five! Enjoy~

Requests opened!

Genre: Angst, smut, romance

prev ~ master list ~ next

credit: ourhopeourangel

Hoseok took his hand in yours as he decided to move you towards his king sized bed. The blush white covers were beckoning you as he paused at the edge of it. It seemed like Hoseok was debating if he wanted to push you on them, or if he wanted to take things slowly. He paused for a second as he then shook his head, then proceeded to move himself forwards.

He planted another kiss on your lips, his hand coming under to cup your chin in his grasp as he shifted your stance. Although your kiss was brief, it was enough force to make you fall back on the bed. You bounced a couple of times as you were sprawled out. Hoseok looked from where he was standing, a devilish smile spreading.

He didn’t do anything at first, only laid eyes on you before moving himself inwards. Hoseok took your lips in his pressing his body against yours as he tilted your chin up. The kiss wasn’t of hunger, instead, it was pure and sweet....at first. You noticed that Hoseok was teasing you by leading you in one way, then turning it around completely.

You noticed that he removed his hand from your chin, slowly moving it down your neck and towards your breasts. Since you were wearing a baggy shirt, it was easy for Hoseok to sneak his hand up your shirt. However, he just messed with your breasts through the fabric. This was a foreign feeling to you and you didn’t really know if you enjoyed it enough or not.

Hoseok broke the kiss only to start attacking your neck. His hair brushed against your cheeks, tickling your skin and causing goosebumps to arrive. You gasped slightly, arching your chest into his palm as he squeezed it. It was like this was a trick for him to get you excited and it was working perfectly.

You felt his lips lowering themselves towards your collar. Pressing soft, gentle kisses along your skin as he still was fondling your breasts. But this time, moving his hand down your torso to the ends of your shirt. Since your shirt was long enough, it ended at the top of your jeans.

This was the first time anyone other than yourself had been this close to your core. Even though his plan wasn’t to mess with you there yet, you felt this odd yet satisfying throbbing sensation between your legs. Your breathing was beginning to get heavy and he hadn’t even taken your shirt off.

Hoseok’s hands were cold to your skin and your stomach did small flips trying to get used to it. Wherever he kissed or touched you, there was a trail of goosebumps following right afterwards. You started to get sensitive and Hoseok recognized this.

He moved his head up to look at you. His eyes burning into your soul as you locked eye contact. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out which confused you at first. He only held that same smile from before as his hands snaked up to your breasts again.

It was like Hoseok understood the female anatomy perfectly because he found your nipples rather quickly. They hadn’t become completely hard yet, so it would be rather difficult to find them for anyone else. However, for Hoseok it was like he could find them with his eyes closed. You pulled at them above the fabric, your eyes scrunching, ultimately breaking eye contact as you arched up into his touch.

While his fingers were distracting you, his other hand moved to lower itself in between your legs. You weren’t expecting it until it ‘too’ late. Your eyes opened automatically while your legs squeezed his hand tightly.

“Shy now aren’t we?” Hoseok breaths pressing his palm a little harder as you twitched slightly.

“This is the first time..” You whispered the information again as it seemed Hoseok had forgotten it. Although, that wasn’t true considering that he already knew that you were a virgin. He was trying to take everything as slow as possible because he didn’t want to hurt you.

Instead of distracting you further, Hoseok removed his hand from your shirt to help take it off of you. He mumbled something under his breath about clothes being completely irreverent. It seemed as if he wanted to see your nude body, but you weren’t going to ask him what was going through his mind.

You trusted Hoseok with this, even though you were extremely nervous about it. You could tell that Hoseok could feel this nervous energy as he tried to reassure you that everything was going to be alright.

Right after the cool air hit your skin, you shivered just a little bit. Hoseok looked at your topless body and smiled just a little bit. He removed himself for you for a second, leaving your body to yearn for him. You watched Hoseok moved himself towards his door, shutting and locking it before turning around to put on some music.

You scrunched your eyebrows together as you tried to figure out what kind of mood he was trying to put on. That was until you realized it after he turned back around to face you. Causing that throbbing sensation to come back as he started to unbuttoning his shirt. Just watching him strip in front of you sent shocks throughout your entire body.

You watched him with wide eyes, even moving yourself towards the edge of the bed to meet him again. Everything about this entire situation confused you. It was like he wanted you to get riled up by his touches and then to watch him..

Hoseok tossed his button down to the side as he showed off his tone body. You knew he had to be built because of the muscles you felt, but you didn’t realize he was this well built. You gulped just a little as Hoseok moved to the edge of the bed again.

“Do you like what you see?” He whispers moving in to tilt your chin up to lock eye contact with him again. You didn’t say anything to him, instead you reached out to gently run your fingers against his muscles. Trying to take the texture in as you could feel your heart starting to beat faster.

Hoseok got his answer instantly and didn’t have to say anything else. He let you explore his torso for a little before he decided that it was enough. Just before you could lower your hand, he pushes you against the bed again. Your body bouncing just a little as he grabs your legs.

He pushes you against him roughly, a small noise escaping your lips. He was in between you, his erection poking at your throbbing core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself against him to add some pressure to him. He groaned just a little bit, but that didn’t stop him.

Hoseok moves to hover over you, slowly rotating his hips against yours as he was dry humping you. This was just to continue to create friction between each of you, teasing you more than him. You bit your lower lip, tilting your head just a little because you didn’t want to look at him. You felt embarrassed as you could feel it start to bubble up.

As Hoseok was moving, he decided to unzip your jeans. This causes you to turn your head back towards him, your eyes half lidded watching him move swiftly. It was like in a blink of an eye, your pants were off. Your heart started to beat faster as you were now half naked in front of him.

This was as much skin as you had shown anyone in a private setting. You wanted to cover yourself up with a blanket and hide away from him. But you were already too far in deep as you wanted to know what else he would do to you.

Hoseok marveled at your body, taking in every edge, every curve in before devouring you. He took a step back, slowly lowering your legs as he lowered himself. Hoseok moved himself in between slowly. Softly planting kisses against your thighs, squeezing your skin, making your squirm even further.

When he got to your core, your could feel your heart beating against your rib cage. He blinked a couple of times before laughing, causing his breath to hit against your skin. You gasped, more of your juices leaking out and staining your underwear.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already so wet,” he breaths his hands moving up to remove your underwear to your knees. Hoseok moves in and presses his lips against your entrance.

It was weird at first, but when he flattens his tongue against you, you groaned out. The wet muscle escaped in your folds, licking inside, then moving upwards to press against your clit. Immediately your hands went up to grab his hair, tugging on it.

Hoseok didn’t leave your clit alone. He knew that was such a sensitive area, and he wanted to abuse it thoroughly. He moves his head back, spreading your lips open to press his thumb against your clit. Rubbing small circles against it, your legs starting to shake almost immediately.

“Hoseok....Hoseok!” You moaned your body starting to squirm more as this weird feeling starting to build in your stomach. Your shaking legs were pressing against his body, your hands trying to grip something other than his hair. You had never felt like this before and it was addictive.

Hoseok removed his thumb from your clit, only to take it in his mouth again. His tongue applying pressure to it while he positions himself to give you other stimulus's. He slowly opens your lips again, still not taking his tongue off your clit while he probes a finger in.

But it wasn’t inside your lips, no. Instead, it was just a little lower than your clit as he was rubbing a different part of your body. With your clit being pressed and played with, now the soft u spot being slowly rubbed against drove you to your first orgasm.

Your toes curled and legs shaking as you pressed further against him. Your moans were coming out in streams as you felt this huge wash of emotions flood your system. Even though you had your orgasm, Hoseok was still messing you with. Playing with you through as he was heightening your senses again.

This time, he removed his finger and lowered his tongue. Licking your juices up again and cleaning you. Your breathing was still heavy as you were feeling a little tired. Hoseok noticed this as he pulled his head back and tsked you.

“I’m not done with you yet Ms.” Hoseok’s demanding voice brought you back in while you watched him pull your underwear off. He pulls himself away for a second to grab something in his nightstand. From where you where lying, you didn’t see anything until he moves himself closer in.

He held a condom and lube in one hand. You were concerned at first because he hadn’t stretched you. You didn’t want to go into this first without him even trying to stretch you. Hoseok noticed your eyebrows scrunching a little and he chuckled once again. Just his laughter alone relaxed you in small ways, but then again not completely.

He moved himself in between your legs again, spreading you as he grabbed the lube. Hoseok put some on his fingers, coating them completely before moving in. He probes one inside, the feeling weird for you but you easily got relaxed. He started to pump in and out, the sparks starting to fly as you began to moan again.

Hoseok did this for awhile, probing fingers in and stretching you until he felt like you were ready. He pulls his fingers out from you, then looking at you straight in your eye. Your breathing got short again, but you weren’t saying anything until he started speaking to you.

“May I?” You blinked, confused as to what he was asking about. But then, you realized and you nodded your head. Hoseok gave you a small smile, moving himself up to take his pants off. You watched in awe as he made taking his pants and boxers off just as sexual as taking his button down off.

Your eyes widened at his length as you wondered how everything would fit. Hoseok still gave that small smile as he opened the condom with his teeth. Pushing it on him as you heard him moaning. Just hearing it caused your heart to beat again. You wanted to hear more of it, wanted to do something that would cause more of it to come.

However, it seemed like Hoseok had other plans for you. He took the lube in his hand again, rubbing it on and finally position himself in front of you. He shifts your hips upwards, then moves himself in. You squeezed your eyes shut and stopped breathing for a second.

When he stopped, you opened to look down and gasped. You wanted to say something at first, but Hoseok didn’t want to keep you waiting. He pulls his hips back, then snaps them in. The first thrust was something you wouldn’t forget. It sent sparks instantly, your hands down from his hair to his shoulders. The pads of your fingers digging into his skin as you wanted some kind of stability.

Hoseok moved to place both of his hands on your hips as he grounded his feet. Since he was fucking you on the edge of the bed, he didn’t have to be on his knees. It was nice because he could use his lower back in order to thrust harder into you. Even going as far as to angle you upwards so his hip could hit a bundle of nerves.

Your moans were loud as you were praising him. Your body was on fire as sparks were shooting up and down your spine, sending shivers. What surprised you most was Hoseok took one hand off your hips in order to mess with your clit again.

Rubbing slow circles against it only causing more moans to slip out. They were louder and higher pitched than before, and that just caused Hoseok to continue with it further. His movements went faster and harder, especially his rubs against your clit. That feeling in your stomach came again as you noticed that he was also moaning lowly under his breath.

Soon your eyes rolled back once more and your body shook as you were orgasmed again. You dragged your nails down his back, because somehow during this interaction your fingers curled up on his back. Hoseok groaned loudly, the pain itself driving him over the edge as you felt him milk inside the condom.

He pulled out soon afterwards only to take the condom off. Your body untangled itself from his as you were coming down from your high. What Hoseok did next, you didn’t see because your eyes were shut. However, you could hear him shuffling around the room, then move close to you.

You opened your eyes, only to notice that he was putting a shirt on you, after helping you off with your bra. He scoops you up in his arms, moving you around the bed and going to tuck you in. After having two orgasms, you were completely beat. You gave Hoseok a small sleepy smile, that caused his heart to beat against his chest.

He watches you slowly dip out of consciousness. You where extremely pleased with everything that happened. You wanted to do it again..

You hoped that you could do it again....

#littlemeowmeowschimmy #bangtanarmynet #bts request #bangtan request #bts reader insert #bangtan reader insert #bts smut #bangtan reader smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #bts jung hoseok #bangtan jung hoseok #bts jung hoseok x reader #bangtan jung hoseok x reader #bts au #bangtan au

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meshugana1 · 6 years

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Heyo Kijo, can you do me a favour and get those big bimbo lips over here and suck me off while massaging me.... I'll give you $50 extra if you do a good job ?

Those words rang in Kijo’s ears painfully. It was nowhere near the first time she heard such an offer, but most didn’t come right out and say it either. “Who told you I…offered such services?” She said, her back was turned as she lathered her hands in a fragrant balm. “Did somebody need to? All you massage chicks are just begging for it anyway. Especially here with that fat ass in that tight uniform. You’d probably do it for five, but I’m generous like that. Now chop chop! I don’t have all day and we both know you’re going to do it,” the man said. He was already laid out on the embroidered massage table. Kijo’s smooth knuckles cracked like thunder as her heels clacked toward the table. “Well, with such a ‘man’ in my presence, how could I refuse?”

The man patiently awaited his reward. A reward he truthfully had no intention of paying for. It was illegal to pay for it after all, and no one was going to believe the word of a stupid masseuse over an upstanding businessman like him. Her hands adroitly worked his muscles into a state of repose, but none of his flesh shifted in the slightest. Kijo performed her duties with unimpeachable professionalism. Every muscle on the horrid man’s body was as relaxed as a newborn babes. Kijo removed her hands, much to the man’s annoyance, and walked over to a wooden table in the corner. It was covered by a light silk cloth, obscuring the contents underneath. Kijo removed the fabric, patiently folding it and setting it aside. On the table was a jade incense burner. Kijo lit it and carried it over to the man. “I think this will help establish the mood for our fun, don’t you think?” She asked. The man caught the scent and took in a deep sampling. His face slackened even further and he said: “Yes, it smells lovely.” Kijo smiled. “That's good, that's very good. You know not many men who come into my parlor and demand my services are so forceful. I can tell you're special." Kijo placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing the muscle tenderly. "Now, I believe you said to get my big bimbo lips over here and suck me off? But I think I'll start with a kiss, it's always great to start with a nice deep kiss don't you think?”

"Yes, you should always start with a nice and deep kiss,” he said. Kijo ran a finger across her lips, some of the balm still coating it. Kijo dipped her head low and pressed her lips into his. Her tongue invaded his defenseless mouth. The machinations of her lips were unusual to him. Almost deliberate. But the lovely incense invading his lungs made difficult his thinking. Kijo was a very well practiced masseuse, and as she locked lips with his they began to change. Where once they were thin and functional, now the gate to his throat was made of soft enticing pillows. Kijo looked at her work and smiled further. “Mmm, that was good wasn’t it?” Kiso said. He simply nodded, the incense finally having worked into his blood. Kijo frowned falsely. “Hmm, something tells me you don’t agree though?” His face twitched but he did not stir. “Yes, I have a good sense about people you know. Some men come in and pay for a blowjob because they simply want it. But you? I can tell you just want others to think you want it don’t you?” He made no motion, drew in a deep breath, then nodded vigorously. “Yes, I’ll bet you really want to be the one doing the sucking don’t you?” He nodded again. Kijo shifted towards the man's waist. Her hands slithered underneath him and grabbed his ass firmly. They began working his flesh, pulling and shaping the taught muscle into a shelf of jiggling skin. “It’s hard admitting to yourself what you really want. So many people lie these days. I’ll bet you’re not even a businessman, that suit is for show, isn’t it?” The man nodded. Images of himself in boardrooms, at a computer, making million dollar deals every day, seemed to evaporate as they came. “With an ass like that, and lips like those, I’d say you’re nothing but a sissy slut who gives herself away online, and spends her free time at the nearest glory hole, aren’t you?” His head hurt, new memories flooding in to replace the old. He never graduated high school, too much time sucking off the football team in the locker room. They called him their good luck charm. He hadn’t worn boy’s clothes since he turned fifteen and his ass grew in, why hide his best feature? She never bothered to get a real job. Why bother when guys give her a few bucks for the privilege of burying their sweet cocks in her juicy ass?

“But maybe I’m being presumptuous. You did ask me to suck you off after all. And who am I to refuse?” Kijo said. She leaned down and engulfed his turgid cock into her mouth. His breath came hard and quick. None of his friends were this good at sucking cock, even after she showed them how. Kijo’s mouth worked quickly. When he entered the parlor, the man had a fairly decent package. But as Kijo plied her trade, her tongue and cheeks compressing and reducing his manhood, when she lifted her head all that remained was a poor two and a half inch erection. “Well, I guess I was right. A real man would’ve cum by now, you must hate getting blowjobs. I wouldn’t blame you, a body like yours is meant to be used.” She couldn’t agree more. She was thankful for her pitiful anatomy, if it were normal sized people might not want to use her ass or her mouth as often. Kijo placed the lid on the burner and waited for the room to clear before rousing her ‘satisfied’ client.

She sat up, feeling her soft ass press into the soft seat. She loved getting massages, it was always such a treat. “Damn that was good,” she said, “If you were a guy, I’d give you one hell of a tip!” She said, giving a very exaggerated wink. “Oh, think nothing of it. Just don’t be afraid to be yourself from now on. That’s all the tip I need.” Kijo said. “You’re so right. I’m gonna ditch this boring old suit and get on my favorite pair of hip huggers. Hopefully I can find a guy on the way home!” “Don’t worry, with an ass like that I’m sure it’ll be easy.” The pair shared an embrace and then parted ways. She sashayed out the door, eager to find a new partner for the evening. Kijo turned to her table and lifted the jade burner. “Damn, I love this stuff!”

The End. Hope Y’all like it!

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avengers-nextgen · 6 years

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Scorion Smut: Breaking in The Bed

For you @mug-full-of-classic-rock

— — —

Scout was eagerly changing from his sweaty suit having returned from a mission. The red leather could get especially hot and suffocating when he wasn’t flying. His hair was wild from the wind and it’d gotten so annoying at its previous length that he’d decided to

cut a few inches off. His logic being that short hair was better for the summer and long hair better for the winter.

James had rolled his eyes when Scout explained the decision to him and insisted, “Buddy, a hair cut needs no justification.”

Running a hand through the tangled locks, Scout hung up his coat and shirt in the locker. Collecting a towel he headed to the adjoining room of showers and slung it over the towel rack.

Humming to himself he located the soap he preferred from the cabinets below the sinks and set it aside. Slipping off his boots and tucking his socks inside he made sure they were out of reach from any additional shower spray.

“Welcome back,” The voice startled Scout but he didn’t have to look to know who it was. “How’d it go?”

“Fine. Piper and I escorted the transaction line without a hitch.” Scout explained making sure his shoe laces were even. He hated when one was longer than the other. “What were you up to?”

“Training,” Orion replied. As Scout straightened two sturdy green arms pulled him back into an embrace. Orion’s skin was warm and his heart still hammered with lingering exertion. “James kicked my ass.”

“Not surprised,” Scout snorted, “he’s a tricky one. He definitely has his mother’s skill.”

“Seems to be true.” Orion noted, resting his chin on Scout’s head. “Organizing things?”

“Yes, but you interrupted.” Scout remarked. “I have a specific routine.”

“I know,” Orion smiled, “but I like hugging my boyfriend!”

To accentuate his teasing Orion pulled Scout closer leaving no space between them as he lifted the other boy from the ground. Scout found it impossible to pout and instead played along by squirming to get free.

The both of them laughed for a bit until Orion stopped and Scout’s slowly died off. “Okay put me down now.”

“As you wish.” Orion set Scout firmly on the ground once more.

“You’re not as giggly. How come?” Scout asked, undoing his belt only to drop it. Mumbling a curse to himself he knelt down to collect it before hanging it beside his towel. “Orio-“

He noticed his boyfriend standing oddly still as he observed Scout in his routine. His hands were clasped in front of himself and he rocked back onto his heels. “Still here. Don’t worry I didn’t skip off. I know you hate it when you end up talking to yourself.”

“Right. As I was saying...” Scout grinned, ”you’ve been less giggly lately and I think it’s because you lost one of your favorite cassettes. So I convinced Piper to let me pick something up for you on the way back. It’s in my locker if you want to grab it.”

Scout turned the water on waiting for it to get warm. Once more he was hugged from behind. “You’re too sweet. How did I get lucky?! I have to get it!”

“Statistically it would take some time to figure out...” Scout’s train of thought slowly wandered away as he felt something press against him from behind.

“You okay?” Orion frowned spinning Scout around to face him.

Scout’s cheeks were bright red as he stammered a reply, “Uhm...situation below.”

Orion arched a brow and followed Scout’s eyes down to his crotch. “Oh my god. I am so sorry. Shit that’s embarrassing.”

Scout watched Orion run a hand through his hair and hop around trying to get the nervous energy out. “It’s okay. Is...is that why you were standing like this?”

Orion watched Scout mimic his stance from before causing his cheeks to flush a dark green. “Um...yeah. I didn’t want to say anything. You just got back and when you started squirming around...it’s an accident I swear.”

“Don’t apologize.” Scout shushed Orion with a hand slapped over his mouth. “It’s natural. I read about it.”

“Of course you did.” Orion mumbled from behind Scout’s hand. “Just forget about it.”

“No, it’s okay. I mean it. Showering can wait.”

“But your routine.”

“Is second to you.” Scout insisted, shutting off the water. “Now, where to?”

— — —

Orion had gotten a new ship for his birthday and it currently resided in the hangar. He escorted Scout inside and over to the door leading to his cabin room. “It hasn’t exactly been used before. This whole thing is brand new. So I don’t know if it’s comfortable.”

“It’ll be fine.” Scout promised. “Besides, what better way than to break things in together...right?”

Orion blushed again. His boyfriend was horribly good at making naive comments with dirty contexts. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Besides, blue sheets were a good choice. It looks nice with green.” Scout remarked, looking at the neat bed. “Sky blue is good too-“

Orion knew had to shut Scout up before they spent the rest of the evening talking about color patterns. He pressed his lips to Scout’s and the other boy responded quickly.

His hand hooked into Orion’s hair tugging lightly at the strands. Already aroused Orion became more aware of the need burning in his gut. Just Scout’s proximity and the smell of sweat, books, and fresh air was enough to send Orion’s heart a flutter.

Normally things progressed slower, but Orion wasn’t going to wait anymore. He’d been patient long enough just getting Scout here and letting him ramble for a few minutes. Picking the other boy up with ease he pushed Scout back into the cool metal framing of the wall.

His hips set to work with a mind of their own already pushing against Scout’s with a vengeance. The fabric of his pants chaffed against his thighs and the growing bulge.

Scout took a second to recover from the initial surprise before kissing Orion so hard their teeth nearly knocked together. He captured a soft green lip between his teeth giving it a gentle tug.

While Orion was quick to arouse, Scout was always slower. His brain had such a hard time focusing, that even during times like this it was hard to earn his full attention.

But Orion had a few tricks up his sleeve. He’d learned awhile ago to engage Scout early on. It locked Scout’s focus onto the situation at hand before it was too late. Setting Scout down, Orion spun the boy around and pressed into him. Having an idea of what his boyfriend was up to Scout braced himself. He carefully placed his palms against the wall as Orion’s hand snaked around his front. Slender green fingers dipped into his waist band and pressed on in search of their prize.

A shiver ran through Scout as Orion’s palm came to a stop before kneading into soft tissue and muscle. He tried to keep a grip on the things around him, what was about to happen, and how he needed to stay grounded for a clear mind. But Scout’s brain was growing foggy.

In a matter of seconds he found himself gripping at Orion’s hand through the fabric of his pants-that still needed to be hung up with the rest of his suit-and pressing it harder against himself.

Scout let out a rather embarrassing whimper as Orion withdrew his hand. He knew why though, it was getting tight and he needed the space lest it hurt, but he felt bare now.

Orion shifted his hands to grip at Scout’s hips as he pushed harder against his lover. “Scout, I’m ready when you are.”

The sound of Orion’s husky voice in his ear made Scout weak at the knees. He knew Orion wasn’t going to be able to wait much longer. Alien genetics had changed a lot about his anatomy.

Orion’s reflexes were quicker, his sight was better, etc. But there was more. Space reproduction was extremely different than earth reproduction.

Orion had told Scout a long time ago that on most planets they lived by earth’s animal kingdom mating rituals. The man or woman most likely to reproduce, with the best genetics, and likelihood to survive was the prized mate. To earn the right of betrothing them you had to be impressive. The bigger, badder, flashier, and handsomer people won.

Essentially, competition was high in space, not to mention Orion’s species was practically extinct, and thus evolution had given him what all human men dreamed of: 5 cm X 8 inches.

Morale of the story, Scout had learned his lesson after the time Orion ripped his pants. He didn’t want it to happen again for Orion’s sake. The poor boy had been so embarrassed he cried.

Scout turned to face Orion and with shaking hands he undid the button and zipper to his boyfriend’s pants. Orion didn’t bother to hide his sigh of relief as the pressure subsided.

Both boys shimmied out of their clothes and Scout scooped them from the ground starting to fold them nice and neat. Orion laughed lightly and took the clothes from Scout’s hands, “Later babe. Okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Scout nodded, “sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Orion smiled, trailing a thumb over Scout’s cheek, “I know how you work, and I love it.”

Scout blushed and stammered out nothing but nonsense in response. “Thanks...”

Orion chuckled and pressed a light kiss to Scout’s cheek running a hand down from the other boy’s chest to its previous location. Scout still wasn’t quite ready. “Stop thinking, just let it all go.”

“It’s hard.” Scout sighed.

“I know, but let me help. You trust me right?” Orion held Scout’s gaze until the boy relaxed, and nodded. “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Scout took a deep breath and let it out as Orion gently massaged him once more. Nearly a minute later and Scout was thrusting eagerly into Orion’s hand having given up on composure.

Orion lifted him up once more and gently settled Scout on the bed. He then laid down as well making himself comfortable before Scout moved to straddle him. Orion gently traced the pathway of Scout’s spine, watching a shiver pass through his muscles.

“Go slow until you’re ready,” Orion reminded him. He couldn’t see Scout’s face but the boy nodded. It would take a lot of self control on Orion’s part but Scout needed to go slow for his own benefit.

He watched Scout dip low until the slightest amount of contact was made. Once sure of himself Scout relaxed ever so slightly and pushed himself down just short of three inches.

Scout was tight, and Orion was forced to grip the sheets in tight fists to keep from thrusting upwards. Holding his breath, Orion waited impatiently for Scout to move again. Once adjusted he sunk lower, but it still wasn’t enough.

Sensing his boyfriend’s frustration Scout placed a hand on Orion’s thigh and let calming energy course into him. Sighing in relief Orion relaxed letting Scout take his time until he was fully settled.

“I’m okay,” Scout sighed, tracing a shape on Orion’s thigh. Orion smiled as he sat up and captured Scout’s neck into a kiss. Wrapping an arm snuggly around Scout he laid back down bringing the other boy with him.

Scout tilted his head letting Orion make artwork of his neck as green fingertips coasted over his stomach. They brushed their way downwards in no particular hurry until Scout took hold of his hand, and placed Orion’s palm against his hardened shaft.

Scout held back a moan as Orion’s hand encircled him, the warmth of his palm only making Scout ache more. Orion did nothing at first seeming to enjoy the position and merely ran his thumb lazily over Scout’s tip.

It was only when Scout grew frustrated and rocked back into his lover that Orion took action. He responded with a short forceful thrust of the hips and a tightening of his grip.

Scout groaned pushing away from Orion and into his hand. Orion refused to respond knowing very well that Scout preferred it this way. Instead, he focused on his own need.

His free hand grasped hungrily at Scout’s hip where his nails dug lightly into the skin. One thrust turned to two which devolved into many. Orion abandoned teasing Scout for the moment and flipped the boy over onto his stomach.

“Or-Orion remember what happens when you go...first.” Scout grunted.

“Shit...I know.” Orion whined, slowing his ministrations. “Stupid alien genetics.”

“It’s alright.” Scout laughed faintly. Orion sighed, and closed his eyes for a moment trying to calm himself. Pressing a tender kiss to Scout’s shoulder blade he allowed the other boy to rise to his knees.

“You first.” Orion whispered. Even at the slightest touch Scout was already arching forward in a desperate search for friction.

Taking his lover in hand, Orion pumped up and down at a steady pace varying the tightness of his grip. Scout clenched his teeth muffling a groan as he picked up the pace. “Tell me when to stop.”

Scout nodded, unable to formulate much of anything at the moment, and just before he came he told Orion to let go. The boy did as he was told.

Scout sucked in deep breaths of air and closed his eyes for a minute or two. When Orion thought he was calm enough he enclosed Scout once more. This time though, he moved excruciatingly slow with nearly a vice like grip. The technique was new and Scout found himself moaning far more than he had before.

He was thrown off his guard so much he didn’t ask Orion to stop. Instead, Orion obligingly picked up the pace until Scout was practically throwing his full weight into each thrust.

Orion noticed the tensing of muscles in Scout’s shoulders and back. He was close. Biting lightly at Scout’s shoulder Orion slowed suddenly and tightened like before. As he pushed his hand up for the second time Scout tightened and a gravelly cry came from his throat.

Warmth spread across Orion’s hand but he quickly withdrew it and wrapped his arm tightly around Scout to keep him from collapsing. “Agh, s-sorry.”

“I got you.” Orion assured him as he eased Scout down onto the bed. He waited patiently allowing his boyfriend to recover before hesitantly thrusting again. When Scout didn’t protest Orion eagerly gained momentum.

No matter how hard he tried it was as if he couldn’t go deep enough. At one point Scout tightened around him and Orion dissolved into a string of curses. Scout was only growing tighter around him with each thrust.

Scout took matters into his own hands when he pushed roughly back into Orion sending the other boy over the edge. He tried desperately to keep thrusting but the deed was done. He wouldn’t be able to budge for an hour or so.

He hadn’t known why that was the case the first time around, but Scout had done his research. It was compatible to the mating of wolves, where the male locked the female to further ensure the chances of a successful mating session.

Scout winced in pain and it was the only thing that drew Orion from his drive.

“Sorry,” Orion stammered. “Here.”

Orion carefully moved them away from the mess on the bed standing while Scout sleepily held onto him like a little monkey. Tossing aside the top covers to be cleaned later Orion settled them beneath she sheets.

Wrapping his arms snuggly around Scout he pulled the other boy closer until there wasn’t any space between them.

— — —

Scout woke up to the sound of footsteps. He was aware that Orion was no longer there due to the empty feeling in his gut. He rolled over to spot Orion moving about in his boxers tidying up the place with care. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Orion grinned, glancing over at Scout who was rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“You cleaned up.” Scout remarked.

“Yeah,” Orion laughed bashfully, scratching at the back of his neck, “it’s a thank you for helping me break the bed in.”

#avengers #avengers next gen #marvel #black widow #captain america #mcu #natasha romanoff #pepper potts #romanogers #scarlet witch #orion quill #scout maximoff #scorion #scorion smut

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boarix · 5 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part V

The Promise

Trigger warnings: canon language/violence/gun, drug and alcohol use. Mature/suggestive content

Game spoilers!

Please enjoy!

“Why won’t she listen?!”

Danse was pacing in Curie’s lab. His steps were heavy even without his power armor and he kept jarring the microscope making it almost impossible for Curie to read the slide.

“She listens to you, monsieur Danse, but she is most distraught over almost loosing MacCready and effectively loosing monsieur Hancock. She is so downtrodden; we need to respect her wish to move more slowly, oui?”

“I could crush them! The Dragoons and I and one or two M-42s... It would be over like that.”

Snapping his fingers, Danse roused Panther who had been napping in a window. The great monster of a housecat proceed to walk across Curie’s desk placing itself strategically between her and her work.

Sighing in defeat she gave it a pat, “We do not know how many civilian innocents may be killed by a direct assault.”

Wraith would never again call for the destruction of an entire facility; the loss of life between the Institute and the Prydwen would forever haunt her.

Danse had gone back to pacing-out his frustration and hearing Curie’s uncharacteristically impatient sigh, Panther jumped down from her desk and intercepted the large man, purring loudly and rubbing on his leg. Danse stopped automatically and as is if a switch in his brain had been flipped, he stooped slightly to pet the cat.

“Ah, you are Pavlov’s dog.” Curie smiled at him, “You have no say; the cat is there so you must stop to pet it.”

Curie giggled at her “joke” and combined with the smile she gave him, Danse had a rush of feelings and thoughts that were rather unsettling.

I wonder if I could… If she would let me…

His thoughts were cut off by the door slamming open and a ridiculously muddy MacCready poking his head in, “Hey is the boss lady back yet?”

Curie jumped when the door opened, “Oh my goodness! Why, you are all together mud! Do not come in here so filthy. Why are you a swamp monster?”

“I’m helping Sturges dredge for the mill. Is Wraith back yet?”

“What, did you lose a bet?” Danse was laughing.

“Why do people keep asking me that?” MacCready was exasperated, “Of COURSE I lost a bet! No one would willingly volunteer to help with this crap! Let me know when she gets home.”

“Is there something you required from Madame?”

MacCready was thankful that they couldn’t see him blush through the mud, “No! I just… want to know that’s all.” He slammed the door as he left.

Curie had returned her focus to the microscope. Danse, feeling that the moment had passed, but that some of the new thoughts and ideas might be worth revisiting later, left her to work; closing the door politely.

Wraith had taken Shaun back to Diamond City for the fall with the intention to work a local case with Valentine while she was there. There had been some whispered dissention over the synth detective’s new look and Wraith had hoped that her presence combined with Piper’s endorsement would help to ease any growing negativity.

She had been gone for a while and MacCready had been increasingly grouchy at over being left behind. He didn’t remember what had happened after he had been shot, and Wraith had been rather vague about the subsequent fight between her and Hancock. What she had been clear on was that for the time being he was grounded for his own safety and there were a lot of tasks he could help with before his next semester started.

“I can’t believe she took the dog too. I’m so flippn’ bored!”

As it happened, as soon as MacCready slammed the clinic door, Wraith crossed through Big Bridge Gate. She had made the trip to and from Diamond City travelling incognito as a male caravan guard and so made it all the way to her office undisturbed. Dogmeat’s disguise was simpler: Wraith took his red bandana off.

“May I help you?” Sofie had no idea whom she was addressing and was legitimately startled when Wraith’s voice answered her.

“How’s it been, Sofie dear?” Taking off some of her gear while the ghoulette updated her, Wraith interrupted long enough to suggest they go outside to the picnic tables, “It’s really nice out today and I want to sit in the sun while it’s out.”

MacCready caught wind that Sofie was talking to someone that “might be The Boss” and so immediately went over to impress her with his mud. Swaggering up as if he was in a tux, his tone was overtly flirtatious, “Well if it isn’t the best looking ladies in town! Get a load of you two knockouts! Hey, Sofie who’s in the little tower today, it’s Lloyd right?” At the diminutive ghoul’s nod he winked at them, “Scuse me a minute…”

Laughing a little at his odd behavior and appearance Wraith and Sofie continued with their meeting until they both jumped at a sudden scream, “GGGGAAAAAHHHHH!!! MACCREADY YOU DISGUSTING FUCK!! I CAN’T FUCKING UN-SEE THAT SHIT, MAN! GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!” Then, looking all the world as innocent as a new born, MacCready returned to the picnic tables adjusting his belt.

“What did…?”

Wraith interrupted her quickly, “Nope! No, Sofie. Just… no.” She laughed in spite of herself, “Mac, if you’re through, I got some more ballistic fiber and I’ve been meaning to mod you some new stuff. Go shower and meet me back at the house. Hey, the showers are that way.”

“Why can’t I use your office shower? I’m gonna get a change of clothes…”

“I’m about to get in there myself and you are not walking through the house like that! Go use the public showers and I’ll have someone bring you clean gear.”

“Okay, mom! Jeez!”

The community showers were one of Wraith’s personal triumphs. Although the pressure wasn’t always the best, at least the users had the option of hot running water. MacCready relaxed into the warm water and had just finished lathering up everything when he heard Curie’s voice.

“Monsieur MacCready I have brought you fresh things. These old are to be burned, oui?”

“No! Don’t!” In a panic, he forgot himself and ran out to the locker room area, slipping on the floor and nearly colliding into her.

“Oh! I was only… joking…” Curie turned an odd shade of pink as she got a full frontal view of everything MacCready had to offer. “Oh! Eeeeeee!” Running away she dropped the pair of pants she had brought, but nothing else.

Wearing nothing but a confused face and a few suds, he picked up the pants, “Hmmm, commando it is.”

Wraith was surprised to see him half naked a few minutes later, “I sent Curie with a full change of clothes.” As he told her the story she started to laugh.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny, but I’m confused; I thought she’s a doctor. Doesn’t she see naked people all the time?”

“Hmm. Maybe it was just the shock of it? Actually maybe she hasn’t. I’ve never forced anyone to get a physical and Preston was prepped for surgery before we got there. All of the instruction she’s done has been field med based, and they used cadavers so probably never a live man either.”

“Didn’t she help with medical research and stuff? Before she was…”

“Well, keep in mind when Dr. Collins programed her, all of the anatomy and physiology data was just that, data. And if she ‘saw’ a live naked patient it would have been through her ocular sensors. They aren’t quite the same as our eyes and she wouldn’t have had a… an emotional, I guess, reaction. So she has never seen a live naked man before. Then when a handsome naked guy who is dripping wet, bumps into her… yeah, she’d probably flip.”

Now it was MacCready’s turn to blush, “Never seen a naked man before… Where did you get cadavers…oh yeah, never mind.”

Wraith was laughing hard, “Yeah…heh… she’ll forever… hahaha… compare…” She snorted loudly, “… all other guys… to you! BWAAAHAHAHA!”

“Wait… you think I’m handsome?”

Wraith rolled her eyes dramatically at him, “Yeah, Mac. You be sure to apologies to her later though, okay? Wait. You better let me speak to her first because I’m laughing but you might have legitimately traumatized her.”

“Well, it is a lot to take in.” He spread his arms out wide and lifted his chin proudly.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep your arms up, I’m gonna measure you.” As she took the various measurements, Wraith found herself thinking about how handsome she really thought the young man was. Trying not to make herself blush she pushed the thoughts away and rushed, especially his inseam.

Stop it! Don’t think about his junk! You creep. Old bat. No underwear…. Gaaaahhhh!

Trying to cover up her busy mind she read his measurements out loud as she wrote them down, “I’m glad I measured first cause you’re filling out, I’m surprised your coat even fit you anymore.”

“What do you mean? I’m not done growing yet?”

“You’ve been at your full height, I’m sure. I just mean that I’ve been feeding you well and having you do more physical tasks than just runnin’ and gunnin’. You didn’t have as lean a winter as the ones you’ve told me about either, so your body can actually apply calories to muscle mass building as well. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll never be a beast like Danse.” She had thrown in that last bit to deflate his ego as he had started to flex experimentally during her explanation and it was giving her all sorts of fresh material for her dirty brain. She went to sit at her workbench, more to have her back to him, less to actually start her work.

Will you please stop! You are fifteen years his senior and he… and he… looks it.

MacCready’s ego was rather substantial however and so the jibe didn’t seem to faze him. Instead he swaggered over to the table and plopped down on the top, folding his arms he smiled down at her, “You know everything about me, huh? I don’t know anything about you though. I mean, not really.”

She immediately stood up so she could have her back to him again feigning interest in the ballistic fiber, “What do you mean? You know me, Mac!”

“I know what you’re like. I know that you’re a good person. But I don’t even know what your life was like, you know… before. You said you were a lawyer, but I don’t know what that really involves.”

“I assure you, it’s boring stuff.”

“C’mon, Wraith, give me something! Just one little story… Please?”

She sighed, defeated. At first she tried to speak calmly and slowly but her pace soon picked up, “Okay. I was in the Marine Corps for a few years and bounced around a bit; I worked for the Adjutant office and Ground Supply and a few months over-seas with Public Affairs.”

She took in a large, shaking breath, “When I was home on leave for a cousin’s wedding, my parents and I were in a bad car wreck. I was the only survivor and then it was just barley. That was actually the first time I heard of Vault Tec; they had a lot of contracts with the military and they offered to help pay for my surgeries and recovery if they could run some extra tests. I didn’t really have much of a choice; I essentially belonged to the military.”

She had started to pace back and forth as she talked, “I found out later that I wouldn’t be able to have children. The doctors said it was because of the damage I received from the accident, but I have always wondered about that.”

“Wait, they told you that you couldn’t have kids? But… Shaun?”

“I’ll get to that.” She resumed her pacing, “I decided that I wanted to change my career focus. I still wanted to stay in the military but I thought I might actually feel like I was doing something if I got my law degree and became a JAG lawyer.”

“Jag?”

“Yeah, it stands for ‘Judge Advocate General’s Corps’. She stopped pacing and stood silently. She was practically panting by now.

“Wraith? Are you okay? You don’t have to…”

“No, I’m alright. I just haven’t talked this much about before... Not to anyone.” She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing, “That is actually how I met Nate.”

MacCready straightened up a little at the name. She almost never talked about her late husband.

“Nathaniel Emmanuel Keita-Johnson. He was the Army liaison assigned to me for a case I was working. He was also just about the most beautiful human being I had ever seen; tall, dark and handsome. But he was also kind and fully committed to justice. I fell in love with him immediately. I kept it professional though and never let on what I was feeling. So much so that he thought I didn’t like him at all!” She had started breathing hard again.

“Wraith, really! You don’t have to…”

“No! I can do this!” She was back to pacing, even faster this time, “After the case wrapped he approached me and apologized. He said ‘I’m sorry if I wasn’t helpful to you’. I couldn’t believe it! I apologized for him feeling that he needed to apologize to me…”

“That sounds like you.” MacCready was trying to be supportive.

“Yeah. Well, we got to talking and then the rest as they say is history. We got married and I was amazed that he even liked me let alone wanted to be with me, especially since I couldn’t have babies. Well, then Vault Tec showed up again. The rep congratulated us on our marriage and asked if we would like to participate in a surrogate program.” She could see that MacCready was confused, “That’s when they take a fertilized egg sample from the parents and implant it in another person. At first I told them ‘no’. But I reconsidered and Nate said that he really wanted to see… me… as a mother…” Wraith was shaking now and started gasping for air.

MacCready took her in his arms and held her tightly to his chest, “Stop! It’s okay! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Just breathe.”

He had unwittingly echoed Hancock, and Wraith’s mind went into a spin as she simultaneously re-lived the deaths of her husband and her son as well as Hancock’s dismissal. She blacked out as her body re-set itself. MacCready continued to hold her as she briefly went limp and her breathing evened out.

As she came-to she was keenly aware that she was pressed against MacCready’s bare chest. She tried to focus on his heart beat and regain control. Then he began humming I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire and rocked them gently back and forth. She could hear his heart rate increase as she put her arms around him and reciprocated the embrace.

I just want to feel something else… Maybe I could… With Mac I could…

He pulled back from her and setting his hand on the top of her head he made as if to pet her hair, but ended up running his hand gently down the side of her face to cup her chin, “I’m sorry Wraith.” With his face mere inches from hers it was nothing to dip his head slightly and set his lips against hers.

The kiss was meant to be an offer of gentle support, but as she returned it with urgency he felt a fire ignite inside him. His hand moved to the back of her head to deepen the kiss even as she wove her fingers through his hair pulling him to her. He hefted her up to straddle him and pushing her against a wall, ground his growing erection between her legs. She moaned against his mouth and he thought he might lose it right then. Reaching down between them she cupped and stroked him through his pants.

He bucked himself into her hand, “God yes… please! Uhhh!”

As Wraith moved her hands to his zipper an image of Hancock flashed into MacCready’s mind and he grabbed her hands to stop her. Shaking and panting he set her down and backed away, “No we can’t. I’m sorry we can’t.”

Wraith completely misunderstood and was blushing furiously, “I’m sorry, MacCready! I guess I… I don’t…”

“No! God no, it’s not what you think!” Knuckling his fists into his eyes he reeled back, “I promised! I promised him!”

“Mac, I don’t understand… what…”

“Hancock!” Backing away from her toward the door, MacCready’s face had twisted into an intensely anguished mask, “Please don’t think that I don’t want to… God I do… so fucking bad! But I promised Hancock that I’d never steal from him again!”

Wraith became very still, “Robert Joseph, I do NOT belong to Hancock!” She was clenching her fists and wouldn’t look at him, “He doesn’t even… like me anymore!” She felt so childish saying it out loud.

“He loves you!” He raised his voice at her shaking head, “I know he does! And you love him! And… and I don’t know what happened, but I know it’s my fault you guys aren’t together anymore.”

“We were never together!” Wraith was trying hard not to start crying.

“But… you slept together...”

“Slept. He held me while I slept.” As angry as she was she felt a stab of sympathy for him. Even more so when she saw tears standing out on his cheeks. She reached for him, “Mac, it’s okay…”

“No. You never had a chance… to… It’s all my fault!” He fled through the door, and she could hear him run up the stairs to his apartment.

Wraith stood in silence for several minutes. She briefly thought to go knock on Cait’s door; the other woman would probably help her alleviate her intense sexual frustration. She almost immediately dismissed the idea. Cait wasn’t who she wanted and she didn’t want to use her like that. Instead she took a copious amount of Mentats and proceeded to write up 3 months’ worth of task-lists for Sanctuary. As she came down she felt an intense compulsion to go see Nate’s grave. Hiking up past the vault she remembered too late that she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and had no armor or weapons at all.

She didn’t see the shadow following her.

Wraith had planted hubflowers around the simple stone that served as her late husband’s grave marker. She sat on the damp earth and took several measured, flower scented, breaths before speaking, “Hey Nate. You remember that talk we had about moving on if one of us dies? Well, I thought I had someone in mind… I wasn’t ready yet but… there was a man… a ghoul actually and also maybe a man. I guess I thought I could have both.” Tears streamed down her face, “But it turns out… no one actually wants me anyway.”

Lost in her pity-party she didn’t see the shadow circle around her.

Finally feeling a presence, Wraith lifted her face from her hands to see a pair of glowing eyes quietly observing her. She wasn’t afraid as she didn’t feel a harmful aura, “Panther?”

Upon hearing its name the cat began chuffing at her. Stepping across the grave with its whiskers fully extended, it licked her nose before crashing its forehead into hers and wiping her tears with its face and neck. It then made room for itself on her lap: sitting on her crossed legs while placing its head and paws on her shoulder.

She returned the cat’s hug, whispering, “Thanks Nate.”

The next morning Wraith was gone.

She had left notes for Sofie, MacCready and Danse and had spoken with Curie, but everyone got the same information: Wraith would be back TBA. With 3 months of task-lists no one lacked for clear directives, but MacCready told everyone to leave him alone and spent 3 days in the big tower. In the end, Danse was the one to go and bring him down after a lot of yelling and toilet-bucket throwing. It was even later rumored that Danse had called him a, “whiny little shit”.

Deacon knew that the young man traveling alone was actually Wraith. At first he was irritated with her, but then decided that her disguise was probably good enough to fool anyone but him. Wraith was 5’7” so with the heeled boots she was wearing; she was already the average height of most males in the commonwealth. She had altered her walk as well so her movements and body carriage denoted a general sense of “maleness”. She had even worn a wig. His irritation changed to pride as he jogged up next to her, “Whatcha doin’?”

Wraith didn’t jump or flinch at his approach as she had felt him from a ways off, “Walking.”

“Walking is for saps! Me, I’m swimmin’!” So saying he started wheeling his arms around as they moved along, “C’mon in, the waters fine!”

She couldn’t help but smile but wasn’t exactly in the mood to feel better yet, “Looks more like you’re trying to land a plane on a carrier.”

“Where we going anyway?” He was doing the breaststroke now.

“We?”

“Yeah, it means the speaker,” He pointed at himself, “and one or more other people,” He pointed at her, “considered together.”

“It’s getting dark and I’ve been settlement hopping and I’m worn out and… I’m trying to do the smart thing by stopping at a safe-house.”

“Do you have some of that sweet leather stuff?”

“Always.”

“Then we shall join you for dinner.” He had stopped swimming and instead adopted a courtly walk, “That time ‘we’ was meant to indicate that my royal self has made a decree, thusly.”

Wraith gave in. After an enjoyable banter-filled dinner she felt herself relax. Spreading her bedroll and tossing Deacon a spare blanket, she was amazed that she was as comfortable as she was.

Maybe it’s because I know he doesn’t ‘want’ me. There aren’t any expectations. I’m just safer because he’s here.

They lay in the dark for a few minutes before Deacon finally worked up the nerve, “Wraith, we are friends right?”

She propped herself up on her elbows to try and see him better, “Of course! Why?”

He resisted the urge to get closer to her, “Friends talk about stuff. You want to tell me why you and Hancock aren’t speaking?”

Flopping back down she grunted, “Ask him.”

“Hancock barely tolerates me. We are too much alike. So as much as I like fucking with him… I’d just as soon go poke a yao guai.”

“Who says I won’t punch ya?”

“Punch yes, eviscerate no.”

“Oh I’m sure he wouldn’t do that.” Tucking an arm behind her head she sighed dramatically, ending it in a growl, “I think he’s mad about MacCready. We almost lost him and it more or less could have been avoided, had I not been so stubborn.”

“That doesn’t track boss; Hancock knows what this life is like. Notice he didn’t try to stop you like I did. Instead he came with, probably thought it would be fun. The guy gets off on danger.”

“I don’t know… he’s got a soft spot for MacCready. He was pretty possessive after he’d been shot.” She started to run her hand back and forth across her buzzed hair, “Actually it wasn’t until Mac kissed me that he started acting weird.”

She could see him smile in the dark, “Oh yeah? Exchanging fluids with ol’ Hatty MacCheekbones are we?”

You have no idea…

“It wasn’t like that; he was delirious and mistook me for his late wife Lucy.”

“What are you going to do tomorrow?”

The abrupt change in subject caught her off guard. ”Uh… I donno. I don’t actually have a plan out here. Like I said I’ve been going through Minutemen settlements incognito, checking on everything unofficially and so far so good. I’m happy with all the leaders I’ve picked and there really isn’t anything other than the big projects…”

“So come back to the Railroad for a bit.”

His interruption surprised her, “Uh… I don’t know, Deacon.”

“Or, or, just hear me out. Help me with my current project.”

It would be nice to have something different to do… A change in focus…

“Okay.”

“Really?!”

His excitement made her smile, “On one condition; you can’t swim on dry land the whole time. Wavin’ your arms around like that… you’ll have vertibirds trying to land on us.”

There wasn’t supposed to be coursers.

Deacon’s project was meant to be a simple package transport: a pick-up and drop-off of a synth from one secure location to another. It was supposed to be a routine mission and a way for Deacon to spend more time with Wraith.

There wasn’t supposed to be coursers.

Wraith’s high perception picked up on the concealed courser before it fired a shot, “There!” Throwing a knife at the mirage-like ripple in the air, she gauged about where its hand would be and got off a rifle round as it moved to block; its Institute pistol coming into view as it left its hand. The ripple moved away and Wraith chased after, “Pursuing!”

Moving himself between the synth they were transporting and the apparent threat, Deacon was surprised when she grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully behind him. Forcing him down she stood on his right leg to keep him prone. Rolling to his right, he brought his left leg around and kicked hard against her right knee. For a split second her hold weakened, long enough for him to continue his momentum back to a standing position, pulling his silenced pistol from its holster as he did.

Recovering quickly, she grabbed his pistol wielding hand in a vise-like grip. Pain forced his hand open and the gun dropped to the ground. Not losing a beat, Deacon gave her a closed-fist double-tap to her temple. She caught his fist on his third jab and yanked forward to grip his neck with her other hand. Releasing his fist, she gripped his throat with both hands and lifted him off his feet.

“GHAACK! How are you so tall?!”

Activating his shoe knife, he delivered a brutal kick to her armpit. Had she been a normal human this would have more than broken her hold. As she was a courser, she flinched and dropped her arms slightly but not enough to set him on the ground. Clawing at her hands, he could feel himself losing consciousness. Mustering every remaining ounce of strength, he swung his foot up and slammed the knife into the side of her head. He knew she was dead, yet her body didn’t seem to know and was still holding him painfully aloft.

His last thought was, “Oops.”

Using a combination of her berserker rage and an incredibly sharp combat knife, Wraith sliced through the courser’s arms, dropping Deacon to the ground. Prying the hands away from his purpled neck she tilted his head back to begin CPR. Knowing full well she wasn’t competent enough to perform a tracheotomy, she prayed his windpipe hadn’t been crushed. “Common Deacon! Fight for me buddy!” Still not getting a heartbeat, she slammed her fist onto his chest, “God damn you, YOU ASS! BREATHE!”

“Ouch.” His voice was a horse whisper and was followed by a wracking cough.

Shooting him up with Med-X and a stimpak, Wraith gathered him into her arms and proceeded to cry. He briefly struggled against her touch but she squeezed all the tighter, “Nope! I get to. I get to hold you after that! I’m sorry and you can yell at me when you’re better, but I get to fucking hold you now.”

He reached up to tenderly touch her bruised and battered face.

“I know it will be difficult for you monsieur Deacon, but you must use your voice as little as possible as you are recovering.”

Curie’s no-nonsense face made Deacon want to laugh, but the thought of how painful it might be kept his chuckle at bay. Nodding instead he hopped down off of her examination table and joined Wraith in the waiting room.

“Doc sez I shouldn’t talk.”

Wraith laughed at him, “As if that’s possible!” As they headed to the door, Wraith stopped short causing Deacon to almost bowl her over, “Shit! Mac is out there.” Deacon raised an eyebrow at her. “I scared him and now he won’t let me out of his sight. He’s kinda smothering me.” Deacon raised both eyebrows at her. “Okay, okay I get it. Shush yer eyebrows, jeez!”

Hancock sensed someone standing behind him, “Fahr, can you tell me why in the goddamn I wrote three copies of the same fucking page?!”

“You were probably high. Or drunk. Both?”

He was in no mood for Deacon and didn’t bother to turn around, “I don’t have time or the patience to deal with your shit right now.” He shuffled some papers around to emphasize how busy he was, “The Railroad needs something, they can leave a memo.”

“Actually it’s Wraith that needs something.” Deacon involuntarily flinched as Hancock slammed his palms down on the table. “She’s not well, Hancock. She doesn’t sleep or eat hardly at all.”

Hancock’s voice was low and dangerous, “What, am I her pa now? She has plenty of folks to take care of her.”

“You mean MacCready, right? You know they aren’t together, right? He completely rejected her and she was heartbroken!”

“It’s none of my concern.” Hancock’s shoulder set and voice told on his lie, “I have problems of my own here without having to worry after the good General Wraith.”

“Wraith isn’t her real name.”

Pushing himself up violently, Hancock closed the distance to Deacon with remarkable speed. Grabbing the other man by the shoulders he slammed him roughly into the wall, “I DON’T FUCKING CARE!”

Throwing caution to the wind Deacon got in his face, literally pressing his forehead to Hancock’s and dislodging his tricorn, “I think you fucking care quite a bit! You can’t lie to a liar, Hancock. I know you are in love with that woman.” As Hancock released him and backed away, Deacon feeling he’d gained the upper hand, followed after him, “You thought you were in their way right? You thought ‘If I’m not around then they’ll fall into each other’s arms’. Right?! Well the jokes on you because they are both too hung up on you, of all people, to even be with each other!”

“Well in the absence of us both, I’m surprised you didn’t swoop in and snatch her up! Follown’ her around all the goddamn time… sneaking around actually; It’s obvious you’re in love with her too!”

Deacon's shoulders sagged. Removing his sunglasses he cleaned them with his shirt, “Of course I’m in love with her. We all are.” Looking back at Hancock he smiled a sad little smile, “I can’t be that for her though. I had my chance at happiness and I destroyed it. I will never have that again; I don’t deserve it.”

Hancock’s body posture changed, “That ugly face yer makin’… like lookin’ in a mirror.”

“Well, people are always saying how much we look alike.”

“Heh!” Hancock swept his hat from the floor and returned it to his brow, “Well, I’m not sure what to do. She’d be pretty pissed at me still… Oh, and don’t think for two seconds that whole ‘Wraith isn’t her real name’ shit was a huge bomb! I know better than that. Who names their kid Wraith? I figured it had to be a nickname.”

“It’s from when she was a Marine; the ladies in her unit all choose spirit names like ‘Banshee’ and ‘Geist’ and called themselves the Spirit Squadron.” Deacon chuckled, “It’s interesting that she’d prefer Wraith to…”

“No! Don’t tell me!” Hancock quickly interrupted, “I don’t deserve to know unless I ask her myself. Although I doubt she would want to speak to me anytime soon.”

“Drop her a memo.”

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins master-link under my tags. =^..^=

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #wraith in the ruins #fallout hancock #fallout deacon #fallout maccready fanfic #fallout deacon fanfic #fallout hancock fanfic #fallout curie #paladin danse #fallout danse fanfic #fallout dogmeat #rj maccready #maccready romance fanfic #hancock romance fanfic #john hancock

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thefun41 · 6 years

Photo

Next up is Lesbian!Maya This one was definitely a challenge! I’ve drawn Maya a few times but I think this one is the best so far!

I’ll be blabing under the cut but in the meantime look forward to Gay!Klavier (hopefully) on Wednesday!

Edit: I have been informed that this is not the flag currently used. :/ I was wondering why kept seeing a pink one, just not where I was looking.

(Warning : rage and bitching below)

*deep breath* OH BOY! OH GOLLY AHH JEEZ Like DAMN was this a challenge. This took me an entire week!!! Other then Sebastian (because of that jacket) all of the pride requeswts have taken 3 days or less. During those 3 days I research an outfit, make a sketch, normally have a goofy side image to post before it because my brain is hyperactive, obsess over how to pose them and make the final image. Not this time!!! Even though this was an incredible struggle there was a lot that was learned by this… experience.

So let’s break it down.

Struggle #1 : Which flag are we using again? On the Ace Attorney Amino, the requester requested a Lesbian Maya. Here is the issue, in my research I have found a lot of lesbian pride flags and narrowed it down to 2. The lesbian pride flag which is purple one with the black triangle and the battle axe (which was used) and lipstick lesbian, which is this pink one (see above). Now this bodes the question : What’s the difference? Well as far as I can tell, The purple one came first and is generally an umbrella flag for lesbians, while the pink one was made spicifically for a lesbian subculture : lipstick lesbians. There is a stereotype that lesbians are “masculine”, lipstick lesbians are very comfortable with their femininity, in fact very “girly” and seemed to be underrepresented sooooooo they have their own flag and subculture, kinda like the opposite of gay bear that we covered last time. It seems like the Pink flag overtook the purple one in popularity OR whoever made the pink one was just better at marketing, who knows. Now the requested went with “a regular lesbian” so battle ax flag it is. Also battle axes are cool, so there’s that.

Lesson learned : the LGBTQ+ community is waaaaaaay bigger then I thought with subcultures and whatnot. Knowlage is half the battle!

Struggle #2 : Fashion is hard guys. Picking the outfit took at least 2 days, and then I changed it at least a half dozen times. there are 3 issues I had (lists within lists, listception) : Maya’s limited style, using the colour pallette with my messed up, self-restricted viewpoint, and Maya’s age. First Item, off the top of my head, I believe Maya is only seen in 5 outfits, her usual outfit, iris outfit for a moment, a waitress outfit for an hour, a red dress in that one promotional image where the case is super fancy, a white suit outfit thing for soundtrack stuff and a conductor uniform??? Out of the ones I can rememer, mostof thesse are dresses. When debating on weather or not I should put her in a dress I decided no because (as far as I can remember) she’s always ion a dress. and then my brain went nuts with questions.

Why is she always in a dress? is that sexist? It is a problem? What’s wrong with with her always being in a dress? Why do I want to really get her out of a dress? Am I sexist? why do only women were dresses? Is it the hips? Why don”t men wear dresses? Can they? They don’t really have hips so they can’t really wear skirts. Wait a minute men do kinda wear dresses, I mean kilts and kimono’s exist. would the bulge be an issue? Would men emphasize their bulge like women emphasize their breasts? Can men look good in dresses? Can any man look good in a dress? Can I put Edgeworth in a dress and make him look good? I’ve seen a ton of Phoenix in dresses but why not Edgey? … So yeah a lot of useless questions taking up my time for no reason. The point is I purposely designed an outfit with pants … this obviously did not happen. I had this idea of a cozy look in a cute sweater but this leads to the next issue. The issue with this cozy look? It’s too simple.Yes that look is cute but it’s not for me, it’s for the person who requested it. Any it’s entirely possible that this person may have seen the other works from this pride project and the outfits I made for them and then they just get Maya in a sweater? It’s a cute sweater but it didn’t seem fair. A similar issue happened with Phoenix but the solution to that was just to open his shirt and BOOM, extra layers and thus a more complex look. Now maybe the the OG requester wouldn’t mind but I just couldn’t do it, I feel like I needed to give her an outfit with more effort into it. And thuys Maya went back into skirt, now this lead to the third issue : Maya’s age. I found a lot of nice outfits, outfits that would look great on Maya! … When she was a teenager. Now maya is most definitely a full grown women and not a child. Now weather or not I pulled off the 28 year old Maya will be discussed later but nonetheless, all of those cute outfits I found? Out the window. I was so indecisive that I just asked my brother to pick one. Honestly? I really liked what he picked, and I confirmed with my dad that, yes, you can put this outfit on a almost 30 year old. The scarf ended up being omitted in favour of her magatama, otherwise we ended up with the same problem as before, it’s too simple. this time with a few days of work under our belt so there was no way I was going to start over. The solution to this was a nice floral pattern based on a cherry blossom. this makes it more visually simple. I think it looks pretty! After all that work I do like the end result.

Lesson learned : Stop. Over. Thinking. Things. And for the love of god sketch it out. Just looking on google and imagining on the character sometimes will not cut it. If I don’t get it relatively quickly, doodle, draw and scribble some more.

Struggle #3 : Why can’t I draw women?? I am one?!?! Like seriously, why, it makes no sense. Well actually it does make sense because I am fairly sure I can count the amount of women I’ve drawn with one hand. It’s a simple measure of practice. I was foolish to think that simply drawing human’s would be enough. sadly that is not the case. Men and women are built differently and of course I failed to accommodate… many many times. The amount of times I have modified maya and changed her proportions is unreal. One thing I do all the time is make the abdomen too long and I have no idea why this is. Her face! I have no cluw what went wrong the first dozen times but it just didn’t work! I wish I could explain why but it just didn’t look right. you”ll notice that she doesn’t have lips even though she does in her new design, It’s because I have never been able to draw lips. Ever. Not once. Does she even look like an adult? I can’t even tell anymore. She is a little thicker then her concept art but making her look thinner just didn’t work out. Her arms, I had to hid them since the preportions were all off, the hands were held together in front of her checkl and they were too lanky and there was nothing I could do to make it look good and don’t get me started on her hands please don’t. If I didn’t cut off her legs I would have issues with that too. Her breasts, how on earth do you shade those??? Does not compute. DOES NOT COMPUTE!!! So yeah the struggle is real. The solution? Trial and error. Just keep trying until it looks good. Play with your strengths. A friend of mine told me that she reminder her of Tina from Bob’s Burgers… ok? Sure. So after all that while I do like the end result I also see what can be improved, and sadly we have reached the limits of my skill at this time.

Lessons learned : Practice practice practice. I don’t draw enough women, I need to draw more women. I can’t quite comprehend how cloths fall on the chest area and obviously looking the mirror is not a solution. What is the solution? Drawing naked people. … No seriously. Once I learn proper anatomy and human proportions and how muscles distribute over the body not only will I have a lot easier time drawing these characters I will also be able to figure out how clothing would fall on their bodies and i’ll have a easier time shading. Right now I’m drawing and shading clothing without knowing WHY it’s folding like that or why the light is hitting this area. Of course I’ll be doing this for both men and women because as started before, they are built differently. do you know what I also can’t draw? Children. I am NOT applying this to the kiddies. That’s weird and gross. The kids will have t deal with being freaks. I’m cool with that.

Struggle #04 : Life How did we break 3 fuses at my house while I was at work? Why did it effect half my room upstairs, the computer setup that is downstairs and the WiFi on the main floor when the thing used to blow the fuse was in an upstairs room across the hall. why did no one fix it until the next day? Why just leave it like that? Why did I sleep in until 1 when I’ve been consistently waking up at 9? I had things to do what gives? Why did I accept a split shift the next day when I’m exhausted? Why do I get super stressed out when I set an alarm that I can’t sleep? Why am I spending 3 hours writing this when I never bothered to put this much effort in school work? How have I not punched someone yet?

Lessons learned : Don’t rely on anyone but yourself. Do what you can with the time allowed. Pat yourself on the back for not resorting to violence. How to change fuses. Writing this is very therapeutic. Did you last this long? Who knows! All I do know is that yes this was a struggle but I plan on learning from this. Next up is Gay!Klaver and I’m REALLY looking forward to it!

#ace attorney #maya fey #lesbian #pride 2018 #lesbian!maya #lesbian pride #past me is a dummy but has good intentions

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seenashwrite · 6 years

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I am considering getting an anti-possession tattoo, but I am afraid of needles. Do you have any advice?

Do I?!

I won’t ask what it is, exactly, that is trying to possess you. This is a personal matter, and I’ll assume you’ve chosen the correct design for your needs.

I shall also assume you’ll take in as finely-rendered design as possible, in black-and-white, no shading or such (unless another copy, just for their reference) so that they may clearly see what you want and make any transfers to a guide easier. I’ll ALSO-also assume you’ve vetted the shop appropriately via word of mouth and health department rating.

Having said that, what’s below is actually legit advice coming out of NashHole, Inc. for once, and I’ll shoot you straight, a bit from personal experience but mostly factoids body/anatomy-wise. Let us begin.

Sounds like this is your first one, yeah? Going off of that…

Keep it small. I don’t mean size-of-a-pencil-eraser small, I mean more in the range of fits-into-the-palm-of-your-hand dimensions at a maximum, in that ballpark.

Since you’ve got a needle worry, advise don’t go fancy - tons of colors (just one, maybe two) and shading and twisty-curlies and stuff that would make Escher tingly. Basic, basic, basic. Make this an in-and-out to the degree it’s possible.

No aspirin or ibuprofen ahead of time - the former thins blood, the latter can potentiate bleeding in some folks. Tattoos bleed, but shouldn’t go on and on and on, y’know? Think more like a moderately skinned knee - that kind’ve scattered action - no gushing or anything. Many tattoo parlors - the good ones - will refuse service if you come in and are clearly under the influence of something, be it painkiller pills or Xanax or alcohol or weed. You need to be able to give informed consent. Plus, does nobody any good if you’re puking or rambling or can’t focus on staying still. They’ll also stop cold (or should be) if you pass out.

On the subject of pre-medicating, don’t do any topical creams for numbing, if you know someone who’d write a prescription. They’re not meant for stuff like this, EMLA and others in that vein don’t penetrate to the layer where tattoos go, and are meant for one-stick jams (epidurals, port access, lumbar punctures, gums pre-Novocaine injection, quick piercings, etc.). Could it get you over the initial hump? Maybe. I’ve heard tale of it being helpful in things like the start of electrolysis in sensitive (read: genital) areas, and the quick boop! boop! boop!-s for radiation tattooing, and the start of more advanced things like wound debridement, but as for the latter, there’s very likely more pain stuff on board, as can be quite painful. I legit think it’s a waste of time and money, and that’s primarily because…

…about a third or so of the way through, you’ll notice that your body will stop going WHAT THE HELL, and it’s not that you won’t still feel it happening, but the pain receptors have gotten a handle on the sensation. The sharpness of it, for lack of better word, isn’t as striking to your brain anymore. And, of course, you’ve entered the situation by choice, vs. a situation that’s a surprise and starts setting off the whole flight-fight-freeze cascade.

Having said that? The part about your body getting used to it? Location, location, location. Choose a place that’s between bony and smushy. Those areas are gonna hurt more. You want dense, firm. Places where it has some “give” when you push in. Like, feel around your neck. Notice how in front, you can press in a lot, then as you go behind, it gets firmer. Also notice the skin - more delicate, right? Steer away from delicate. So - top of feet, top of hands, inner arms, inner thighs. And for heaven’s sake, don’t go genitalia ballpark or ass or boobs/nips for your first time.

Some will say inner wrist or inner arm is ideal, but I’m telling you: with your needle thing, it’s gonna hurt like crazy. Other areas that will hurt like crazy are the bony parts - the ones you can’t mash very far in with your fingertips. So - ankle area, to be sure (unless you’re pitching it a decent distance above, more on your lower leg, inner or outer), clavicle area (collarbone), and - again - top of hands/top of feet/fingers/toes. I cannot emphasize how vascular the inner wrist and tops of hands/feet are; there will be more blood, there just will be, and methinks that’ll ramp your anxiety unnecessarily, just choose somewhere else. “But Nash, I’m not some skinny bird bones person!” ::sighs:: This is punching deeper than you may realize, it has to in order for it to be “permanent” (they fade, as you know), so it’s gotta be a decent amount below the epidermis or else tattoos would slough away in a heartbeat. It ain’t gonna hit bone, but it sure as shit could seem like it to you, so just dodge that bullet for now, huh? Til you know how your body reacts to tattooing, pain-and-anxiety wise. You can always add to or get more.

In terms of location as related to time, and regardless of your personal body type/weight, go for as flat a surface as possible. That’s easier on the tattoo artist as well. And will help you stay still. So what are some good places that are firm but not bony or smushy?Biceps/shoulder, top of arms, top of thighs, calves, high pectoral (boobs), sternum (smack in middle of chest), possibly belly depending on your body/your weight, back of neck, and honestly, essentially the entirety of your back. Mine’s in the center of a scapula (shoulder blade), he just leaned me over a chair I sat in backwards, and my upper body was against the tilted headrest, folded my right onto a padded table he pulled over, rested my head on it, dropped the left (it’s on L scapula) to make it even surface. Piece of cake. Flat areas are also easier even if you’ve got pudge on a given place, because it’ll flatten in kind, whereas pudgy ass and big boobage just, like, spreads everywhere, it’s hard to keep it stable, so it’s gonna - naturally - take more time. Talking about your back, though, remember: if mid-back, the more it creeps around the sides, you’re getting into rib town, which - weight/amount of pudge aside - is a curved surface.

RE: the position I was in? Here’s my last tip in terms of location in the context of the needle anxiety: consider places where you won’t be able to see them doing it. This kinda goes with my “keep it small and simple” stance, you’re not gonna feel the need to watch them like a hawk to make sure they aren’t screwing up (plus, you should’ve already perused their portfolio of work to gauge their talent/style) and can concentrate on relaxing. Don’t bring a friend or family member who is giddy or hyper or chatty. Mellow. Mellllllllow.

Needle-wise, this is not like a vaccine or an IV or a blood draw, because we’re talking tiiiiiiiiny diameter and it’s sooooo fast. I mean, a stick’s a stick - it’s sharp. Different broad sensation, though, because of the rapid-fire and it’s a spread vs. concentrated in a single spot, and it’s not like a vaccine (deep into muscle) or Novocaine/Lidocaine for root canal/suturing (moderately deep/not into muscle) or an IV/blood draw (miiiildly deep, into vein) because those leave a bruise or lasting ache once all’s said and done. This’ll be sore and have some puffy inflammation when it’s over but more in the dermatology sense. You don’t feel like there’s this hole bored into you that’s trying to heal up, in other words. May get itchy later, too. (don’t scratch!)

Last, wear clothes that can slip off the area, or just one part can be taken off. RE: mine on the scapula - I wore a tank top and just took off my outer button-down, then slipped the strap and my bra strap off my arm. So think ahead depending on location - for instance, loose athletic pants with drawstring (scoots easy for lower back, rolls up easy for lower leg).

And remember: you can always stop. I know, I know, it might mean you’ve got, like, a line in bright purple on your lower back, but like I said, you can always add to it once you re-group, try again later.

#Dear Nash #NONNERS #Not Tyler Durden #I swear #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

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webcomicry · 6 years

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Some Things, off the Top of My Head, an Artist Should Know

(Crosspost from the main blog.)

Please don’t take my extended absence personally: I barely wrote anything in 2017. Let’s change that this year.

But this post, as the title says, wasn’t planned. It started out as an answer to a Reddit post asking what you should study if you want to go pro, but as I kept writing, I realized it was turning into a blog post.

So here you go: a list, from memory, of what I think an artist with career hopes should be reading up on.

BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE

Your first priority should be learning to think in 3D. When you look at a reference, think of it as a rotating 3-dimensional object, not what it looks like from that exact angle, in that exact lighting, taken with that exact lens. You should never let a reference photo dictate what you’ll draw. And the first key to that is learning how to break everything you draw down to five basic shapes: Cube, sphere, pyramid, cone, and cylinder. Everything else is just stretching and combining them.

PROPORTIONS

You should know how to draw people from two heads—super cartoony—to eight heads—superhero—tall, how to build a body from a stick figure, and the differences between male and female body structures. Learn the relationships between different parts of the body and how to use the bony landmarks (the parts where bone is right below the skin, e.g. elbows and knees, since those don’t change with the amounts of fat or muscle) to measure proportions.

PORTRAITURE

You should know classical portrait proportions, the Loomis method of building a head, how to do it from any angle, and how all the features look from those angles, even the ones you can’t see. Read up on ethnic features so trying to draw other races doesn’t get you, to quote Yahtzee, “a white woman dunked in tea.”

ANATOMY

Even if you don’t know the Latin, you should know by sight the bones and where they go, the joints and their ranges of motion in all directions, the surface muscles, the muscle groups, and how the shapes of body parts change when they’re squashed and stretched. Learn how muscle and fat are distributed and how to draw all body types. Learn animal anatomy too, but since it varies so much, you can study that for each animal you draw as you go.

CLOTHES

Have a basic knowledge of how clothes work. More important than learning the individual styles is knowing what holds a strapless dress on, where the stitch lines on jeans are, what makes for a nice suit, things like that. Learn how different types of cloth flow over objects, drape, and fold, both at rest and in motion.

PERSPECTIVE

First study vanishing points, then learn how to break away from the standard “one point, two point, three point” rote techniques they teach you (long story) so you can accurately draw diagonal or tilted objects into a scene as well. Learn to measure in perspective and deduce sizes and vanishing points from a photo. Know how to create perspective grids – even if just digitally – and eventually, how to do curvilinear and five-point. Learn how to foreshorten objects and people from a subtle to an extreme degree.

LIGHTING

Know how light falls across the five basic shapes from different angles. Know how light direction, light intensity, and shadow lengths change depending on the time of day. Know how light hits unusual textures like brick and glass. Once you start getting into painting or digital art, know how to portray a subject lit in a certain color.

BACKGROUNDS

Study architecture to the point where you at least know the terms for the various building elements and where they go. Learn how to render rocks and mountains. Learn how to portray distance. Learn about plant structures and how to simplify them for a drawing.

PENCIL TECHNIQUE

Know how to both sketch and do precision work: I’d suggest practicing them with wood and mechanical pencils respectively. Know how to do rough gesture drawings, semi-rough figure drawings, and refined and fully-shaded studies. Learn to do both hard and gradual shading transitions, blend, use a tortillon, and draw using only value instead of lines.

PEN TECHNIQUE

Know how to ink with markers, brushes, and maybe even dip pens. Know how to hatch and crosshatch in all directions, create textures, and spot blacks.

COLOR

I was a pen boi until just last year, so this is my weak point. I wish I’d worked on it earlier. Learn how to develop good taste in color, and study how other people use it. Learn about color theory, harmonies, and symbolism. Learn how to turn a value drawing into a colored one. Learn how ambient lighting affects the color of objects, how color is relative and subjective, and how to use different intensities and saturations to achieve different effects.

DIGITAL TECHNIQUE

This is what I’m struggling with now, since I got started with tablets much later than most artists. You can start with a simple cel-shading style to introduce yourself to the tools, learn to blend colors, then move on to fully-rendered digital paintings, photobashing, and concept art-style environments. Know what programs are best for what purposes, and maybe dip a bit into 3d modeling, even if it’s just using posable figures and Sketchup.

ART STYLES

Even if you want to have a defined art style, study as many others as possible so you can do them if you want. And study caricature: knowing how to exaggerate features without breaking the likeness will prove invaluable, as will the speed drawing aspect.

If you’re a weeb dumpster like me, put a decent amount of time into studying various anime and manga styles, not just generic moeface and “Atlus ripoff,” so you’ll have a solid idea of how the medium evolved and the basics behind it. If you want to draw in that style, it’ll mainly be for fun (or to make side money from low-level commissions), but there’s nothing wrong with that, since having fun is what keeps you interested.

OTHER STUFF

Study visual storytelling. This is a super-important step a lot of artists skip. Study both other comics and film so you can get a sense of how composition and motion aid the plot. Study color symbolism, and symbolism in general. Learn how to come up with clever visual gags, jokes, and metaphors. I’d suggest reading some scripts and screenplays too.

Study graphic design. It’s a mandatory side skill for digital artists nowadays. Learn to scan traditional art and print digital art, as well as making—and designing for—different types of prints, merch, video, and other digital media. You should have a thorough knowledge of how to work across design programs, DPI requirements, and all the basics of putting pictures on stuff as quickly and cheaply as possible. Study branding. Learn to build a website.

Start building a reference library now. Back it up on an external hard drive or in the cloud. Keep it for the rest of your life. Make sure to add “inspiration” from artists you particularly like too.

Finally, read up on how to network and put yourself out there, both online and IRL. That’s how you get work in the first place.

It’s a lot. I’m going into my 9th year studying art, and I still don’t have a firm grasp on some of this shit. But no matter what level you’re at, good luck!

#artist #art tips #art advice #art reference #art skill #art skills #self-taught artist #art school #learn art

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