I made a joke about how every wedding should have Butter Barn Hoedown played at, because it’s honestly an iconic song. This led to my friend agreeing and saying they were going to bring it up to a mutual friend (though primarily their friend) for his (gay) wedding.

I made another joke after that if only I was marryable (alas I am aroace and have no desire even for a platonic marriage to be honest unless someone came along I felt comfortable enough for that with), I would play Butter Barn at my wedding.

And see. Here’s the thing I will be thinking about for a long time.

My friend then said, and I have no idea if this was a joke or serious, that I could just come to mutual friends wedding as their platonic date and all three of us could enjoy Butter Barn at a wedding together (And I could go to my first wedding also).

I don’t know if it was a joke. I don’t care either. The fact they would even joke about something like that, that I’m like enough of a friend they would consider that. Fuck dude, what am I supposed to do with that information? That makes me feel things

Entry 32

21/11/2023 00:01 Well, I guess its official now… alone again… or im gonna be her ocasional booty call, which i guess isnt bad, i just have to manage my expectations with her, have a purely sexual non romantic relationship…

I honestly took it better than i thought it would, i dont know if i remembered to mention it but on the day i made the booty call realization and i was running late to school i got angry at traffic as per usual, and after straight up screaming at a dumbass driver in the middle of the road i started crying really hard in my car, and i guess i got all of my sadness out at that point, which i guess is better than suffering for a long time. Still it makes me question if i actually loved her if i got over her so easily… i guess love is a strong word for someone ive talked with only on a couple days on pretty much exlusively sexual topics, maybe i grieved on thoughts of what could be maybe i was really sad for losing her and im overthinking it

its not like all hope is lost though i guess, theres still that slight chance that she suddenly got 1 morbillion surgeries back to back and when shes done with those shell have time for me again, or maybe i should stop making fanfics in my head and accept ive been ghosted/only being used for sex with increasing rarity.

I really wish i wasnt the one that has to start conversations with people, i talked to a couple people for non sexual purpose, and it kinda sucks that i have to be the one that starts conversations, or else theyll just die off, i wish i could have someone text me… asking about me… caring for me… I hate grabbing my phone and seeing no notifications, except for reddit comments and shit I changed the notifications for J and the 1 (one) time i got to hear it made me so happy. Maybe i really should talk with my cousin again, even if i was not her first option someone to talk to/only when everyone else was busy and was just used to just go talk about her problems..ugh nvm im not really remembering those memories very fondly..but still maybe i should send her a text.. or wait for her to try to call me again, though it has been a couple months since we talked, and even if going out just to talk isnt exactly my cup of tea i guess its still healthy of me to talk to her instead of just stewing on my sadness alone

I wish i could go back to being happy while alone. I dont know what happened to me for me to get fucked up like this… Ive been talking a bit with some guys in college, but its very little social stimulation, and is really boosting my impostor syndrome, maybe i should just get a job and get off this fucking place… what am i saying, how could me relocating and leaving the confort i have here help in any possible way… I gotta learn to be more independent as well, I cooked by myself the other day, which was easier than i thought, so thats good news at least i guess… though it was just boiled pasta and scrambled eggs, but its a step in the right direction.

i wonder how long itll take for me to find someone again… another half year? maybe a full year this time? would i even be able to manage that? im starting to get really sensitive to any cute couple stuff online.. seeing this https://www.reddit.com/r/RoleReversal/comments/17xfnhx/daydreams_of_being_able_to_pick_my_partner_up/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3 really ruined my day when i saw it…

Maybe i should just bite the bullet and try to meet people irl.. as scary as it is and as clueless on what to do as i am. thing is i suck at talking face to face with people, im so fucking akward, and its hard for me to make conversation on normal topics. but i dont think an online relationship would be as good as a physical one, especially with how touch starved i am. Ideally wed meet online first and then go irl, but its rely hard to meet someone from nearby on the internet… besides D i guess

I should just jump off a fucking bridge shouldnt I? what the fuck am i even doing here? im just in college because i dont want to work, i probably wont be able to function as an adult when i graduate, I got no friends to enjoy life with and im sick of living under my parents roof but i wouldnt last a day outside of it…what the hell do i even do? all i want from life is happiness and for some reason i cant even have that, i dont even know if its socializing thatll help me. sometimes after leaving classes and having conversations with people im anxious to run off and be left alone, so if its not that what is? have deeper conversations? have more casual conversations? have conversations that arent school related? well i guess that could help, the one time i talked of a non school topic it was enjoyable. But its hard for me to do that as well, i cant initiate it because im scared of being annoying, sometimes when i crack a joke with my db group it falls really flat, which obviously doesnt mean i should stop making jokes overall, i should maybe just save them to a diferent audience, but my self esteem is already in the shit and this doesnt help, plus theres a really funny guy that for some reason i really want to try to be as funny as, maybe i just want to be as confident as him, it definetly wouldnt hurt to be a sad sack of shit that constantly pities himself.

Wow just realized i mentioned all the women that hurt me this year lol…well majorly hurt because i trusted them, ignoring the fucking findommers and the people that ignored me and the infamous we dont vibe based on the opening sentence you sent me. why did i go look at my fucking pathetic chat history, what is wrong with me, i know itd just make me more upset and i went to check anyway

I might repost my ad again when im 100% sure J has ghosted me since its been the most successful experiences ive had, even if they ended in hearbreak, maybe third times the charm. I should probably try to change it this time, its a miracle a shitty ad like mine caught any attention at all especially from 2 wonderfull girls like them. Ill just keep trying more femdom personals and stuff, though ive really lost a lot of motivation for trying to talk with people

Fuck me i spent an hour and a half writing this shit when i was suposed to be writing the db report, god i hate my useless ass

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

82 with PruAus? 👀

Send a ship and a number ask game

82. “We’ve been doing it for three hours… How come you’re not tired?”

I have to admit I needed some time to figure out how to combine the ship and the quote, but I think the result is at least presentable.

-> Austria is trans (ftm, he's not referred to as having female genitalia, it's my first time writing a trans character this way pls be patient with me), canon-typical bickering

Austria shifted a little out the bed, arching his sore back, turning his head to the other side. He was only at the edge of being awake, eyes still closed. He gasped softly when he felt Prussia’s index and middle finger easily slide inside him again. Right.. Prussia..

Austria yawned and stretched his arms a little, opening his eyes when the wet warmth disappeared from his crotch. He looked down at the spot between his legs where the mattress dipped due to his lovers weight shifting.

“Are you serious? Did you just yawn?!”

Prussia pulled his fingers from Austria’s hole, leaving him feeling empty and cold. Pressing his legs together as much as possible with Prussia kneeling between them and pulling his shirt down as far as he could Austria looked up at Prussia with wide, confused eyes.

"What? Uhm... no?"

With an angry snort Prussia sat up. He towered over the other man, glaring at him.

“You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

Austria propped himself up on his elbows and opened his mouth to answer, but only yawned again, followed by a sleepy mumble that Prussia could make out as a 'no'.

"Oh my god! You're unbelievable!"

Austria hissed when Prussia put his hands on his thighs, gripping them a little too hard for his liking and sat up. He shuffled back a little, trying to get rid of Prussia's hands clenching his pale thighs.

"I'm unbelievable?! Maybe if you did a better job eating me out I wouldn't have a reason to drift off!"

The accusatory look, the crossed arms... I royally fucked up, Prussia thought to himself. But he would never admit it of course. Instead he also crossed his arms to make his stance clear.

"A better job, huh? Wasn't it you who recently complained that quickies are 'unsatisfactory'?

A slight blush crept onto Austria's cheeks. He hated that Prussia remembered that. And that he was right.

“Maybe so!" Austria threw his hands in the air with exasperation. "But we’ve been doing it for three hours… How come you’re not tired? Because I sure am!"

"I.. uhm.." Before Prussia could mutter an excuse Austria motioned for him to keep his mouth shut and pushed him onto his back. "Let's get this finished." He quickly crawled over his body and settled himself with his crotch right above Prussia's mouth.

When the initial surprise had subsided, the usual grin was back on Prussia's lips, making Austria roll his eyes. He lowered himself onto Prussia's face, gripping his hair to hold him in position. Within a minute he had him at an angle where Prussia could easily capture his dick in his mouth and carass the tip with his tongue. Austria rolled his hips, making Prussia suck a little harder, making him moan for the first time in an hour.

"Ahh, finally.." Austria's breathing quickly got heavier, the spaces between his words filled with moans and gasps rather than silence. "You could have told me, if you had trouble finding my dick... oh god..."

The smirk on Austria's face immediately disappeared when Prussia once again inserted his fingers into his hole, working them in and out, sometimes crooking them to stimulate the sweet spot inside his partner's hole.

The wetness spreading on his face and fingers together with Austria's continuous groans only spurred Prussia on to keep going. He flicked his tongue over the sensitive tip of Austria's dick, making him cry out.

"Prussia... for god's sake please keep going."

Austria grabbed his hair again, rolling his hips and riding his face, chasing his high. Prussia pulled his now slik fingers out again, reaching for Austria's ass and pulling him closer to give him more of the friction he was seeking.

With a strangled moan Austria came on Prussia's face, pulling his hair with one hand and gripping the bedsheets with the other. Panting, he collapsed on top of Prussia. Only when the other man stirred beneath him he rolled to the side, allowing Prussia to breathe again.

"Now that wasn't so bad, huh?" Prussia wiped his mouth with one hand, staring at the ceiling with a self-satisfied grin plastered to his face. "Don't you want to return the- oh for fucks sake!" He turned to his side only to find Austria sleeping soundly beside him. With a heavy sigh Prussia sat up and pulled the blanket up to cover the both of them, before nestling into his lover's side. Maybe using the few hours until dawn for sleep wasn't the worst idea.

Bakugo Katsuki

Type:  Smut

All characters are aged to at least 21!

~

I figured it was time to do one of our heroes to be! As I am 100% against writing for underage characters, I'm going to be giving a disclosure at the start of any that are underage in the storyline! I am writing them as adults. Even 18 is too little to me(I'm 26 now) so in this story, Bakugo is 21! In this world, the class is all successful heroes. Also since this is just smut, there are no spoilers!

~

I sigh as I close the door behind me, rubbing my shoulder in an attempt to ease the discomfort. Today had been the one day of the week my boyfriend would be off work, but luck never seemed to come our way as I had been called away.

I loved my job, being summoned whenever a villain attacks to serve the hurt citizens with my healing quirk. There have been many people who would have died had I not been on the scene, and today had been no different.

I was excited to talk to Bakugo, The hero on sight being a now engaged Jirou. I knew he'd be interested in the information, always keeping a bit more attention to my talk of the day when his former classmates were involved.

I first step into the bathroom, washing my face and changing into the shirt and shorts I had set aside on the shelf. Letting my hair fall free, I walk across the hall and open our bedroom. "You in he-"

What I didn't expect was to find Bakugo on our bed, gym shorts pulled just below his hips and cock in hand. His body jerked when he saw me, eyes wide at realizing he'd been caught. "Fuck, I- I uh..." His face was red, but his shock kept him from moving his hand away at an instant.

With his black tank top pulled up to expose his toned stomach, he was really an erotic sight to see. "Don't stop on my account." I do my best to speak in a low tone, fluffing my hair and pulling up my shorts so the bottom of my ass peeks out.

His face slowly turns from shocked to devious and by the time I reach the bed he's slowly stroking himself again. I stay on the edge of the bed, pulling my shirt off to give a bit of a show myself. I keep my eye on his hand as I rub my nipple, feeling strangely aroused at watching the exploding hero pleasure himself.

Bakugo moans, "Come here, baby."

"Why? You need me to help you~" I coo back at him.

He speeds up the pace of his hand, "Tch, I'll help myself." His hips roll up as he groans.

"HEY!" I crawl over and straddle his hips, pushing his hand away so I can comfortably sit on his cock.

His chuckle is low and faint as he rubs his hands up and down my thighs, eyes glued to my chest.  His cock is warm enough to feel through my panties and shorts, and I can't help lewdly rubbing my clothed slit up and down his thick shaft.

He takes a moment to slide his hands up to my breasts, massaging them roughly as I grind on him harder. "You look so fucking hot baby." He whispers to me.

He changes to where he's pulling and twisting on my nipples, knowing how to rub them in a way that had my head spinning. It had been a few days since we had a chance to play with each other, and Bakugo was taking full advantage of it.

By the time he had his fill of my chest, my panties were completely soaked. His hands traveled down and he halted my humping so he could play more. He used one hand to move both my shorts and panties to the side, using his other hand to rub my now exposed center.

Moans and whimpers slip from my mouth as his calloused fingers explore my slit. He put just the right amount of pressure on my clit to make me buck and moan, but wouldn't stay long enough to enjoy it fully. "You're so wet Y/n." He tells me as his hand pulls away, his slick fingers going straight to my lips.

Knowing what he want's I wrap my lips around the two digits, making eye contact as I swirl my tongue around his fingers to taste myself. He yanks his fingers out and moves to weave them in my hair, roughly pulling me in for an aggressive kiss.

As our tongues dance together his hand still on my shorts makes its next move. Keeping his thumb hooked into the material to keep it out the way, he uses the rest of his hand to guide his throbbing cock to my slit. I moan as his head slips along the wet folds, Bakugo biting my lower lip at the break of the kiss.

He doesn't wait around, pushing himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. I grip his shoulders, whining out at the sudden feeling of being full. He grabs my hips in an iron grip and slams into me, my breath already heavy as the thick tool is rammed into me.

"Katsuki fuck!" I wail as I sit up straighter, taking the reins as I move my hips to bounce my ass better. I anchor myself with my hands on his chest, using his cock to bring myself to my first orgasm. It's a lighter one, and as it hits me I change to circling my hips to feel his cock deep inside me.

Quickly growing tired of the slow pace, Bakugo grabs onto my body and adjusts to where I fall onto my back, cock never leaving my core as he gets onto his knees and pistons into me. In full control the man goes into beast mode, ramming into me so hard all I can do is moan and grip the bedsheets for dear life. Another orgasm hits me and I see stars as he rubs at my clit roughly.

The extra stimulation feels overwhelming, my mind a daze of lust for the man in front of me. He grabs the back of my legs and pushes them to my chest, my pussy in display for his perverted eyes. He watched as his large cock plummeted in and out of me, beginning to feel the familiar sensation in his balls. Knowing it was now or never he pulls out, stroking himself as his cock splashed my stomach and shorts with his thick cum

After five thick spurts, my torso feels soaked, a pool of cum already forming at my belly button. I'm breathing heavily, watching as the man gazed at my used body.

He starts by first running his finger along the edges of where he came, smearing warm jizz as if he was finger painting. His fingers led to my now reddened pussy, flicking my clit a few times before moving to tease my hole.

The entire time his cock never softened, the thick phallus bobbing as he continued to play with my wet core. He pulls the soiled shorts off my body in order to play with me unobstructed. He watches my hand as I move it to his cock, adjusting so he can easily slip back inside me.

This time his thrusts start slow, our bodies slowly rocking into each other as we quietly moaned. His pace speeds up only a bit as his hands travel to mine, putting them beside my head to hold down as he leaned over me.

Our eyes met and I felt my insides twitch. His red eyes were hazy, his mouth opening slightly as breathy moans escaped his lips. My grip on his hands tightens as I roll my hips, the friction on my clit getting me close.

"You wanna cum baby?" Katsuki speaks to me in a husky voice.

I barely find my voice, "Yes! I- Fuck! I wanna cum again." He speeds up, forehead touching mine as his eyes watch me. I want to feel embarrassed by how hard he's watching me, but the pleasure of the orgasms already has left me feeling nothing but pleasure as another one grows.

This one comes on slower, I can feel it coming and I snap my hips to meet his in desperation. My grip tightens and loosens, my body reaching out for the euphoria that only Bakugo Katsuki's cock can give. He gets a cocky smirk as he finally speeds up, giving me just what I needed to cum for the third time.

My back arches and all I can do is scream out in pleasure as I'm fucked through a fourth orgasm, knuckles white as I grip his hands. His pace is hard enough to cause the bed to hit the wall and it doesn't feel like it'll ever slow down.

Without warning, I'm flipped over and Bakugo is adjusting my hips and ass to prop out just right for him before he enters me again. This angle is almost too much, the thick cock going as deep as possible. There's a dull pain as he rams into my cervix, and just as I'm ready to complain of the pain another orgasm washes over me, the room filled with the sounds of my pleasure instead of complaints.

His hips turn erratic and low grunts can be heard from behind me. He changed how he's thrusting and the mirror across the room confirms that he's shifted to be able to watch my ass bounce to the rhythm of his hips.

I want to watch his face as he comes undone, so I moan out his pro hero name, knowing his guilty pleasure is hearing it coated in lust. It does the trick and I can just barely see the snarl on his lips as he again pulls out, painting my ass with three warm streaks of cum.

Making eye contact in the mirror, his face turns smug at how well used I look beneath him. He pulls off his shirt and begins to wipe the cum off me.

"I'll still need to change the sheets, and we both need a shower," I tell the man.

He drops back onto the pillows with a huff, "It's just a bit of sex sweat, just go take a quick one."

I deadpan, "And cum. There was cum on me you know."

The realization hits as he looks down at his stomach, dried cum from where our stomachs touched during the second round clear on him. His eyes next go to me, seeing my stomach still laid down on the bedsheet he groans.

"Don't be a messy fuck then," I joke the unimpressed hero.

Taming A Cat

Pairing: Prostitute Kuroo x Mafia Boss Daichi 

Warnings: Yandere, Edging, Overstimulation, Dub-Con, Rape/Non-Con, Sex Toys, Bondage, Degradation, Mind Break, Violence, Torture, Pet Play, Manipulation

Summary: Medical student by day, prostitute by night, Kuroo thinks his luck has finally changed when he meets a wealthy businessman named Daichi who offers to financially support him in exchange for his body. He learns the hard way that it’s not always wise to seize opportunities that fall too easily in your lap. 

OR 

The prostitute Kuroo and mafia boss Daichi AU no one asked for.  

Kuroo stares at the ceiling, mentally urging the man pounding into him to finish quickly as he lets out fake moans that would make any pornstar proud. With a few clenches and some expertly woven flattery of how good he’s feeling, he has the man on top of him climaxing within seconds and he gives himself a few lazy strokes to reach his own peak. Kuroo winces at the feeling of a softening cock being dragged out of his used hole, but he plasters a coy smile as he gets up and flirtatiously caresses the older businessman. Only when the door closes behind his client does the smile fall from his face as he plops back down on the bed. He lies there, uncaring of his naked state and the drying cum on his stomach until a security guard opens the door to make sure he’s still alive and to let him know he’s free to go since his time is up. With a thankful sigh of relief, the messy haired man quickly wipes the sticky substance off his chest and slips on sweatpants and a t-shirt before limping back home, biting the inside of his cheek every time his abused hole is jostled too much by his movements. 

He takes a scalding hot shower as soon as he enters his small apartment (not that he feels any cleaner afterwards no matter how high he makes the temperature) and quickly transitions into his second role of Kuroo Tetsurou, medical school student, as he dutifully pores over textbooks and notes. And that pretty much sums his life. Studious medical student by day, a whore at night. He laughs bitterly at the thought, but his lifelong desire to be a doctor who helps others keeps him motivated. There’s no way he could afford medical school tuition without his night job. His single father is already stretched thin providing for his grandparents and he knows if he asked, his father would sacrifice that much more to help him out, but he can’t bear to bother him. Not when he sees the ever growing dark circles under his father’s eyes. Not when he sees his father’s thinning, graying hair. No, he’s going to get through this himself and when he becomes a successful doctor, he will finally be able to give back to his family who has already done so much for him. Determined, he continues clacking on his keyboard and highlighting text. 

Life continues on and he keeps up the double act, but one day as he enters the brothel he works at, he’s confused by the flurry of movements and excited energy in the air. He gently grasps the arm of one of his co-workers as she scurries past him and when he questions her, she merely says “important guests” before she’s running off. With a shrug, he enters his assigned room and prepares for another long night. Stretched out and bare, aside from a silk red robe, he patiently waits on his bed. He props himself on his side seductively as the door opens, but is momentarily shocked by the handsome figure who enters. He’s...different from his other clients. Dark brown eyes, not much older than himself (maybe early 30s), handsome face, and god...those thighs. Kuroo can feel himself salivate as he eyes the impressively thick muscular build of his client. “Hi, you can call me Kitty. I’m looking forward to playing with you tonight,” he purrs as the other man begins to undress. His heart rate increases when the now completely unclothed man joins him on the bed and gently, but firmly pushes Kuroo down until he’s flat on the mattress. “What a pretty kitty. You can call me master tonight then, sweetheart.” 

Kuroo shudders as the man begins to harshly suckle and nip his neck and he breathily warns him not to leave marks. With a grunt of acknowledgement, the man changes his pace and gently kisses his shoulders and collarbone instead as he deftly unties the robe hiding Kuroo’s figure. Kuroo’s back arches and he moans as a mouth begins to play with his already aroused nipples. “Kitty’s so sensitive. This is going to be a lot of fun.” A pang of annoyance flickers through Kuroo at the words and amused smirk on the man’s lips, but it’s quickly doused by arousal when the man intensifies his actions on the sensitive buds and Kuroo throws his head back as he whimpers. He’s been with countless men and women at this point, but everyone has always just used him as a warm sex doll to get off with. This is the first time someone has sought to give him pleasure and he sinks into the deliriously delicious feeling. 

He’s embarrassed by the petulant whine that leaves his mouth when the man ceases his actions, but he wails when his client grabs his fully erect cock and fondles his tip that’s already glistening with pre-cum. “Does kitty want master to make him feel good?” Kuroo whimpers and looks at the handsome stranger with pleading eyes, but the man just smirks before playfully slapping Kuroo’s throbbing length. “Good kitties purr when their masters ask them something.” And that’s all it takes before a litany of incoherent begging streams out of Kuroo’s mouth. “Master, please! Make kitty feel good. Please use kitty however you want. Please fill me. Please play with me.” Kuroo is shaking his hips desperately and the stranger groans at the wanton sight. He begins to finger the writhing man, but hisses when he realizes the hole is already stretched and prepped with lube. “Fuck, what a good kitty. He got all ready for master. Is kitty that desperate for cock? Can’t wait to be filled?” “Yes, yes, yes!” Kuroo nods frantically as he flips over onto his forearms and knees, arching his back and raising his hips in offering. 

Kuroo screams as heavy smacks hit his exposed ass and he feels so vulnerable as his weeping length bounces with every hit. “What an impatient kitty,” sneers the other man as he continues bringing down his palm, enjoying the growing red painting the once unmarred skin. Only when Kuroo has completely collapsed onto the bed sobbing with only his hips lifted by the man’s hold does he stop. But Kuroo only gets one shaky breath in before he’s clawing at the sheets and screaming again when his client enters him in one swift motion. There’s a pause as the man adjusts to the tight heat, but it’s not long before he starts a brutal pace grinning as the beauty beneath him practically mewls in pleasure at the stimulation. Pain and pleasure are tightly entangling Kuroo in their grasps and he can’t think as the thick shaft inside of him constantly rubs against his prostate. A particularly harsh thrust has his body move just enough for his bouncing cock to brush against the sheets beneath him and that’s all it takes for him to splatter white strings on the bedding and his stomach. His body goes completely limp as he lets the man treat him as a ragdoll as he chases his own end, but Kuroo yelps as his body is being turned over and he gasps as his client paints his torso with sticky strands before slumping down on the sheets besides the spent prostitute. They lay there for a few minutes relishing in the afterglow, but a knock at his door has them getting up as his client gets ready to leave. This time, Kuroo doesn’t have to fake the smile he sends to the departing man. 

The man becomes a regular client in Kuroo’s roster and although the sex is still mind-blowing, the sessions become more intimate as they cuddle in each other’s arms after some rounds and share about their lives. Well, Kuroo does most of the sharing while the other man (Daichi, he reveals in one of their later appointments) listens, but Kuroo figures Daichi’s just a quiet man and continues to ramble on as Daichi strokes gentle circles into Kuroo’s aching hips. Their arrangement continues smoothly until one night while Daichi is unrobing the tanned man beneath him, he freezes at the sight of mottled black, blue, and purple hickeys trailing down Kuroo’s neck. Jealousy rages through Daichi and he slams the startled hazel-eyed man down onto the bed. “Who the fuck did this? Who the fuck left marks on you?” seethes Daichi. Confusion quickly morphs into anger and Kuroo scathingly retorts, “Have you forgotten what I am Daichi? I’m a whore. I do have other clients besides you-” He’s about to say more when lips crash against his and he’s shocked into silence. Kissing is against his policies and he scrambles to push Daichi away, but the stockier man refuses to budge as he pulls away and stares intensely into his eyes. 

“What would it take for me to be your only client?” Kuroo stares wide-eyed and flounders to find words to reply with, but before he even has the chance to try saying anything, Daichi cuts in. “If you live with me and promise that I have exclusive rights to your body, I’ll cover all your living expenses, your tuition, and anything else you could possibly want. In return, you belong to me. Your body belongs to me. Whenever I call you, you come. Whatever I ask you to do, you do.” Kuroo stills. He wants to be angry, he really does. How dare some person come waltzing in asking to own him like he’s some pet? But when he looks back into brown eyes, his heart is tugged by the gentleness and affection he sees in them. He thinks of the nights they’ve spent together. Would it be so bad to be solely with one man he’s already feeling himself fall for? Wouldn’t it be better to devote himself to Daichi instead of being used by countless men every night? Sensing his hesitation, Daichi gently grabs Kuroo by the chin and places a tender kiss on his lips and that’s the last push that has Kuroo tumbling over a cliff as he accepts Daichi’s offer and enthusiastically returns the kiss. 

Stunned is an understatement for how Kuroo feels when Daichi arrives with a moving truck and an entire crew packs up all his things without him even needing to say a word or lift a hand to help. Brows furrowed, he embarrassedly tells Daichi they could have moved his stuff together and that he didn’t need to pay for all this, but Daichi just smiles at him as he grabs his hand and pulls him to his car. Kuroo doesn’t know much about automobiles, but he can smell and feel how expensive the sports car he climbs into is. The drive is comfortable and he enjoys the chance to converse with Daichi outside of sweat-soaked bed sheets, but his jaw drops when they reach Daichi’s residence. It’s a gated property and he stares bemused at the amount of security stationed around the perimeter and the size of the mansion they’re driving up to. “Alright, who are you and is this whole place really yours?” Daichi laughs at the confused kitten besides him and ruffles his messy bed hair. “I’m just a businessman who fell into some good fortune and yes, it’s just you and me here. I do have a lot of business partners and associates visiting and staying from time-to-time as well, hence the size, but make yourself at home.”   

And it really does begin to feel like home as months pass. Kuroo continues studying and attending classes during the day, but his nights and weekends are entirely Daichi’s. Not that he’s complaining when he’s overtaken by pleasure as Daichi worships and uses his body as he pleases. Living with the handsome man, sharing meals with him, and sleeping together in his bed has Kuroo constantly forgetting that this is technically an arrangement and aside from the hefty sum that’s added to Kuroo’s bank account on a weekly basis, it’s easy to fall into a domestic rhythm and to think of Daichi as his boyfriend. 

However, once in a while, doubt creeps into Kuroo’s mind about their situation when Daichi gives him strict orders to stay put in their shared bedroom and not to step foot outside for any reason. Daichi assures him it’s just because he has important business meetings being held in their home and although still a little suspicious, Kuroo accepts the reasoning. He figures Daichi wouldn’t know how to explain Kuroo’s presence if he did run into his business partners and prefers to keep their arrangement a secret. Today is one of those days and Daichi places a gentle kiss on his forehead before departing with a warning to stay inside their room. Kuroo sighs and lies back down on the plush mattress, preparing for another long boring night alone and cooped up. Luckily it is fairly late, so he decides to just go to sleep. Just when his eyelids start to become heavy and his breathing begins to even out, he’s startled awake by a loud bang. Groggily sitting in bed, Kuroo carefully listens and flinches as he hears more loud noises and was that a scream? He cautiously exits the bedroom and gingerly follows the sounds unsure why cold sweat is forming on his temples and why his hands feel so clammy. A part of him screams for him to just go back and pretend he didn’t hear anything, but his feet continue their trek. Curiosity killed the cat afterall. 

He peers through a slightly ajar door and he has to hold back the scream that threatens to claw out of his throat. There’s blood everywhere. Kuroo can smell the metallic scent permeating the room and he dry heaves at the sight of the wailing, mutilated figure chained up in the middle of what he had thought were just Daichi’s security guards. But he quietly whimpers when he sees the men he’s seen every day here at the mansion and become friends with taking turns stabbing and cutting the body in the center. “That’s enough. Now are you ready to talk or not?” Kuroo freezes at the all too familiar voice echoing throughout the chamber and as if he’s in a dream, he slowly turns his head unbelievingly until he spies a familiar sturdy figure seated in a chair in the corner of the room. The same figure who has caressed him every night. The same figure who lovingly kisses him without fail every morning. The same figure who now sits and stares apathetically as his men torture another human being right in front of his eyes.

Kuroo scrambles backwards and races back to the bedroom and falls to the floor in a trembling heap. All the money, the armed men, the secrecy...it all starts making sense and Kuroo cries at how stupid he is for believing that Daichi was just a normal wealthy businessman. Wiping his tears away with shaky hands, he promises himself that he’ll end things with Daichi tomorrow and leave this all behind him. With that last thought, he drifts off into a restless sleep, tossing and turning as horrifying images and screams fill his mind. 

A gentle voice in his ear stirs him and out of habit, he unconsciously buries himself in the warm embrace, but as he awakens, he tenses up as last night’s memories replay in his head. He allows Daichi to hold him in silence a little longer before tentatively removing the strong arms from his body. Confused, Daichi sits up to look at Kuroo. “Daichi, I think it’s better if we end this arrangement. Don’t you think it’s strange that we only see each other? I can’t even remember the last time I saw my friends or even went on a normal date with someone else. This isn’t healthy for either of us.” Kuroo continues weaving his false tale, but he falters when he sees the fury building in the brown eyes staring at him. “Bullshit, Tetsurou. Why are you really ending things? Because you sure as hell weren’t complaining when you were moaning like a whore just yesterday morning.” Kuroo winces at the harsh tone and words and is about to stutter out something when a hand roughly grabs him by the roots of his hair and begins dragging him out of the room, down a hallway, and...Kuroo panics. No, no, no. They’re moving in the same direction as the room where Kuroo witnessed things no eyes should ever have to see and Kuroo begins frantically tugging at the hand firmly entangled in his locks. “No, Daichi, please! I’m sorry. Please don’t torture me too.” 

The hold on him releases and he collapses to the floor and tries to crawl away, but he’s stopped by a grasp on his chin and his head is tilted until he’s staring into a face that once brought him so much joy. “Ahh, did a bad kitten leave his room last night and spy on master? Is that what this is about? Silly boy. Now I really can’t let you go...not that I ever planned on letting you go anyway.” With a humorless chuckle, Daichi flings Kuroo over his broad shoulder, ignoring the pounding fists against his back as he throws Kuroo in the same room that, just last night, someone died in. With the help of some of his men, it’s not long before Kuroo is chained to the table and Daichi kneels down until they’re face to face and tenderly strokes Kuroo’s tear streaked face. “You’re mine for forever, Tetsurou. I’m going to make sure you never forget that.” Kuroo feels a prick in his neck and his world goes dark.

Kuroo’s head throbs when he wakes up and he winces as he sits up. He shivers as he opens his eyes. Why is it so cold- He shrieks as his movement causes something to shift inside of him and hit his prostate and he collapses back onto the bed. Trying to stay as still as possible, he looks around and sighs in relief when he realizes he’s back in Daichi’s and his shared bedroom, but trepidation begins to eat at him when he realizes he’s completely bare. Feeling incredibly vulnerable, he gingerly moves his hands to feel what’s inside of him and humiliations hits him like a brick when he realizes it’s a plug with a plush black cat tail attached to it. If it weren’t for recent events, he might have been turned on by the object, but remembering everything that unfolded, Kuroo begins to remove the plug only to be interrupted by a painful electric shock around his neck. Kuroo sobs as his hands tug at the collar he hadn’t even realized was wrapped around his slender neck, but he halts as a voice fills the air.  “I wouldn’t try to unlock that collar, kitten. It’s set to electric shock you if the fastening is touched. Only I can remove it from you and that’s not happening anytime soon until I know you’ll behave for me.” 

Body wracking shivers overtake the lean male as he fills a weight dip in the bed beside him and he chokes on air as Daichi roughly thrusts the plug all the way inside of him once more. “You’re so beautiful like this. Just like a real kitty cat. You’re going to leave this plug inside of you unless you’re explicitly allowed to take it out, understand? I want you stretched and ready for me to use at all times.” Kuroo doesn’t answer, too busy sobbing into the sheets, but another electric shock has him rapidly nodding his head. “Use your words, kitten.” “Yes, I’m sorry for trying to remove it, master. I’ll leave it in.” Satisfied, Daichi takes his time to appraise the gorgeous lean figure of the man lying besides him. He rearranges Kuroo until he’s on his back, body folded in half so far that his knees are besides his ears. With firm hands holding the back of tanned thighs in place, Daichi begins to mouth and lick Kuroo’s flaccid cock. Kuroo desperately tries to fight off the pleasure, not wanting to give Daichi the satisfaction of making him feel good in any way, but after months of learning and studying every inch of his body, it takes an embarrassingly short time for Daichi to have Kuroo’s cock at full mast. Drool is beginning to leak out the sides of Kuroo’s gaping mouth and he rolls his hips in an attempt to move the plug against his prostate. He’s so close, just a little bit more...but suddenly strong hands hold him still and Daichi removes his mouth seconds before he can find any release and Kuroo wails at the painful denial. 

Daichi leans down and lovingly kisses him. “I’m going to keep on edging you, denying you, and torturing you until you come crawling to me, begging me for more. And when you do, I’m going to make you cum so many times and use your body over and over again until the only thing you’ll be able to think about is my cock and me. No matter how much you hate me, no matter how much you despise my line of work, you won’t be able to deny your body’s permanent tie to me. I’m going to train you until your body is completely dependent on me to be satisfied.” Anger fuels Kuroo and he musters all his remaining energy to spit on Daichi’s face, taking sick pleasure in the way it trickles down the handsome face. “I’ll never willingly go to you. I’ll never be yours, you sick fuck.” Daichi just cruelly smiles as he wipes the liquid off his face and smears his soiled hand on Kuroo’s chest. “We’ll see about that,” he says before leaning down to once more take Kuroo’s length into his mouth. 

Kuroo doesn’t know how much time has passed. It’s been at least a week, maybe more, but any train of thought he has is cut off as the plug inside of him vibrates against his abused prostate once again. He sobs, but there are no more tears left for him to shed, and he just lies there, body spasming at being stimulated over and over again, but never being allowed the relief of finishing. Daichi had spent the first few days with him, personally working over Kuroo’s body with skillful fingers, but duty called and he needed to attend to business. In his absence, he had replaced the cat tail plug with a vibrating prostate massager and added a vibrating cock ring, both of which he remotely controlled and used to continue the job. Chained in a spread eagle position, gagged, and blindfolded, Kuroo just lies there, slowly losing his mind to the unending cycle of frustration and desire. More days pass and Kuroo barely even twitches at the onslaught anymore. His brain feels like mush and all he wants is to cum, all he wants is Daichi to make him cum, all he wants is Daichi. 

Hazily he realizes the chains around his wrists and ankles are being unlocked and he blinks when the blindfold is finally removed from his eyes. When his eyes adjust to the lights, he recognizes a familiar face and throws himself into Daichi’s arms. Daichi smirks at the sight of Kuroo incoherently begging and babbling words of affection while shaking his hips and grinding his cock against Daichi in desperation. “Daichi, master, pl-please AH please make me feel good, please OH please make me cum. I missed you so much. I love you so much. Please take care of me.” Daichi leers at the depraved mess in his arms. “Was that so hard, kitten? All you had to do was ask nicely. Master will take good care of you now.” Daichi removes the toys from Kuroo and coldly laughs when Kuroo whines about being empty before slamming completely inside of him in one thrust. He groans at the wanton wails that fills the room as he rapidly pistons in and out of the warm hole. “AH, yes, master. I love your cock. I love being filled. Fuck me more! Harder!” 

Even when Kuroo releases thick spurts of white, he continues shaking his hips, begging for more. “Don’t pull out! I love you. Please keep on fucking me.” Daichi gives a hard smack to the lewdly jiggling buttcheeks presented before him. “God, I’ve turned you into such a good cock slut. You’re just a slutty kitten, aren’t you? Do you want to be my slutty kitten forever?” “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll be your slutty kitten forever, master! I love you so much. Please use me forever.” 

Daichi doesn’t stop his relentless assault on his mindbroken darling even after Kuroo’s reached his peak a fifth time and even when all Kuroo can do is pathetically dry orgasm. He doesn’t stop until Kuroo’s body goes limp and his eyes roll completely back as he faints from exhaustion and overstimulation. Only then does he gingerly wash the unconscious body and reinsert the cat tail plug before lying beside his lover in bed. As he cradles Kuroo’s prone form, Daichi smiles in anticipation of spending the rest of their lives together. 

Epilogue

Daichi fights back a groan that threatens to slip from his mouth as he holds his cellphone to his ear. He looks down and nearly cums from just the sight of Kuroo on his knees before him, eagerly sucking his cock like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had in his mouth. He reaches one hand down to stroke his messy hair and smiles as Kuroo purrs and leans into his touch. When Kuroo looks up at Daichi through half-lidded eyes full of nothing but love and adoration, Daichi can’t help the way his balls tighten and his hips buck as he paints the inside of Kuroo’s throat white. Panting, he motions for Kuroo to sit on his lap and without hesitation, Kuroo straddles his muscular thighs as he wraps his long arms around Daichi’s neck and affectionately kisses him. He’s so grateful to belong to a master he loves so much.  

My Pleasure (One Shot)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Warnings:getting choked in my sleep because someone could not take the slow burn anymore

Word Count: All this time I cannot believe I have been falling for the trap of my own thoughts of not being productive for my future when encouraging others to take it easy as productivity is not a norm you need to fulfill in this quarantine. AND I’M nOT eVEn in quaRatINE!!! Relax woman! We will do another degree! But stop killing yourself over and over again by thinking about it!!!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"You know it wouldn't hurt your legs and arms to help me out with breakfast!" You looked up and out of the window and sigh. The clock screaming nine am did not help at all when you groan at the start of your day. "I have to study, mom," you growl to yourself, trying to get back into the zone and complete this one chapter you've been putting off because of all the chores around the house. "Y/N!" The pencil was about to snap when you slammed your books and notebooks close and packed them up. The steam was already packing inside your head when you came out of your room with your bag slung over your shoulder, ready to walk out of the house with no eye contact whatsoever.

"Hey, Hippie Hippo, come for breakfast," Don called out as he switched off his PlayStation to do the tiresome job of walking ten feet to the breakfast table. You were already walking past him to the front door. "Oh my God, he just said something. Don't ignore him like that, you moron," Randy yelled from the breakfast table. "Not having breakfast, you moron. I gotta study!" You replied, trying to control your temper as much as you could. "Hey! Stop talking like that to your brother," the mother called out, her voice laced with no love at all. "He is not my brother," you announced before clicking the door open only to have it shut back by the figure standing in front of you. Those menacing eyes only reminded you of all the moments as a child when you were never given what you wanted. "You will do as your mother says." Your chest started to feel heavy; your breaths shallow and your pulse quite prominent inside your head. "No." You shook your head with tears in your eyes. "I won't. I don't want to. I don't want to do any of this. I just want to get out of this hell hole." The man took a step towards you and you flinched. "Is that how you talk to your father you ungrateful child?!" "I bet it's because of those boys she keeps hanging out with," the mother hisses from the table. "Become a rotten child as she's growing up. You will do as you are told and nothing more, missy." The scream leaving you was inhuman. The tears are hotter than the fires of hell. Years and years of pent up emotions just trying to find a way out. For a moment there it felt like you could blow this place apart but the second your lungs gave up, you opened the door and ran. You ran out into the grey corridor and kept running till you found the elevator. The war inside your head was too much to bear for this little heart. But you still tried to breathe life back into you and darted across the lounge and towards the dorms, not stopping till you made it safely to the familiar room; your room. The sight of your things helped bring your swirling thoughts to a standstill- enough to let your brain command your legs to walk towards the bathroom, click the door open, turn the shower on and sit down in the shower space with your knees as close to your chest. The years came down easily. The faucet had been opened and there wasn't much that could stop it till it got tired or your eyes ran out of water. Sometimes the smallest of inconveniences and the smallest of negligence worked like the perfect crack to bring down the entire dam. Years and years of love lost to reasons you did not know seemed to wash down with the mirk into the drain. The life built around you feeling like a hollow act put up without your knowledge. The sandcastles built near the sea washed away with one eventful tide. And here you were, sitting in a corner with swollen eyes under the cold shower crumpled up, not knowing what to do with your life. The click is loud enough for your ears to know someone has entered the space. The tap of the glass to make way for someone makes your hair rise on your shoulders. You don't want anyone in your vicinity right now. That's what your mind screams internally but the moment cold fingers move your hair strands away from your face, the rage melts away and a want starts to build up in your heart. Your blurry eyes looked up at your company and the green eyes sang back to you with emotions that swirled the perfect way with your internal whirlpools. Your head is already leaning into the cold touch of Loki's palm, wanting to stay there forever, take as much time for this heart to heal. "My whole life was a lie," you whimper into his hand; to which he turns to you, soaking with water as much as you, cupping your face and gently stroking your cheek. "And it's not your fault." "Then why do they make it seem like that?!" "Hey hey hey," he shushed you, bringing you closer to his chest, your flushed face feeling the relief of that icy chest. "We don't get to choose our first family, love," he declared softly, "but we do get to choose our second, our third, our final families." His fingers drove away those stubborn strands from the other side, letting the cold touch caressed your jaw till your breaths calmed down and your heartbeat came back to its steady. "We get to choose who we love." The sudden shiver inside your chest felt dream-like; your soul feeling the flutter down to its very existence. And with that mellifluous call, you looked up at that dense forest of eyes hiding all the untouched and untethered love for someone. In that passing second, it felt like fate dancing around you, singing a tune that struck the right strings in your heart, taking you with it into a trance you did not want to get out of. So, you let your hand ground itself on that chiselled cheek to draw it closer and kiss those inviting lips. It is wrong on so many levels in your head. But then again, your head never gave you a day's rest to think straight. Your heart, on the other hand, blossoming to its full, about to burst with a whole multicolour light show of emotions. It was an internal war between keeping your eyes shut to let this moment last for eternity and opening them to know if Loki felt the same way. Your fear of having fears won over the need to escape and your eyes opened to know the reality however it came. Those dense forests in Loki's eyes that had seemed enchanting a few seconds ago were now fully blown out, experiencing a blackout. That black hole grew bigger with the dawn of a new feeling and no more minute was wasted to bring those wanting lips back onto your intense one. Hot hands met the brisk neck and cold ones wrapped themselves around the scalding waist hungry for a taste of a foreign skin. The shower water rained down on the hyped-up bodies wanting to feel as much of the other under those clothes stuck to them as a tongue stuck on an icicle- uncomfortable for both. And so the need for more brought out the grunting urge to rip away Loki's buttoned shirt while he did away with your grey tee without any remorse. Oh, the smooth crash of skin on skin! The brush of his lips on your neck while your hands went down to his pants to undo the belt. "Y/N," you heard him breathe between the sweet bites he was leaving on your shoulder. "Yes," you barely breathed out the word as a prayer for more. So. Much. More. "Y/N," he called out your name again, making your core twist and turn in anticipation as his tongue traced a path up to your neck. "Oh Gods, Loki," you moaned. "Y/N." His voice came with a jerk to your shoulders, forcing you to open your eyes from that delicately delicious dance to find yourself in your bed with Loki, Scott and Vision hovering over you; concern painted on their face right and left. "Aaah," a throaty wail left your lungs before your dry throat started coughing and brought your duvet up till your neck. "What the h-ack, ahem, what the hell are you guys doing?!" Your wreck of heartbeat was beating one anxious beat in your ear, not wanting to meet the eyes that you had just dreamed about. Ah, fuck me! "What?" Loki asked, confused, dropping that fear bomb once again inside you. Can he read my thoughts? "What?" you reflected back, blinking with an IQ of a dumb fish. "You were screaming in your dream," Scott finally added, bringing his hand to your head to check your temperature, "we got worried." "Were you having a bad dream?" Vision asked with the curiosity of a researcher looking at his lab mouse. "Bad dream? Oh, yeah, it did start as one," you whispered to yourself. "Were there ghosts? Or zombies" Scott asked. "Were there aliens?" Vision wondered, bending a little closer. "Stop it, you two," Loki announced, his arms crossed across his chest as he stood at the foot of your bed, "you are making it hard for her." Title of your sex tape. A gasp left your lungs. Title of our sex tape! And with that very thought, your eyes met his, pausing your breaths to bring out an incoherent squirming noise while the duvet slowly travelled up your chest to your neck and then your jaw. "Why is she screaming like a mouse?" Vision looked at Scott. "Oh, honey, you are hot. Loki, help her out." The squirming increased in amplitude.  "What is wrong with her? Y/N, are you having difficulty functioning properly?" You shook your head to get all those images out of your horny brain. "She's fine. I think she's still trying to come to reality," Scott explained with not much confidence. You winced and felt yourself drawing back into your sheets. "How about you turn yourself on and off again?" Vision advised with pure innocence in his eyes. "What?! Vision?!" "What? You tell me to do that when I seem to be overloaded or stimulated the wrong way." "Please don't use the word stimulated." "Alright, everyone! Out! Now!" Loki's declaration made you jump where you lay while the other two quietly walked out of the room. "Finally," you could hear Scott say under his breath as he took one last look form the edge of your door and smiled a mischievous smile. Loki turned back to you, inhaling a lungful.  Oh no. "Tell me what happened." For that soft request, you would have given your heart to your new friend any other day. But today it was a nightmare. Your heart wanted to come out of your mouth, take your face and slap it hard. "Tell me, or I will see for it myself with magic," he mentioned casually. "I had a nightmare," you blurted out. "It's fine. It's over." Loki waited for a few seconds before sitting down by the edge, at a considerable distance from you. Oh, God. Oh my God. "I had a dream about my...not so biological parents? It was nothing. I was...having some sort of flashback. Some really not so happy flashback." You looked down at the duvet while your head hung on your knees. It was not asked for but a pale hand came into view with a glass of water. Taking the glass in your hands, the brush of his cold fingers brought back the wet dream like a rush of ocean waves hitting your straight around your legs to push you back till your butt made an impact with the sand. "Oh fuck me," you whispered under you breathe while going for a swig of that water again. "Thanks-" you looked at Loki with gratitude- "for the water." Giving you your favourite smirk, he got to go out of your room. "My pleasure," he stated, stopping to turn around by the door and give you a quirky brow, "and you are welcome for the water."

...yeah your heart just died.

Jerza month 2020 - Behind Closed Doors

Theme for day 5.

This is totally outdated for something organized in March but I couldn’t get rid the idea from my head, and it’s never too late to write for OTP, so I started the writing in early April. But things happened and I got lazy and more ideas came up and blah blah blah blah, so I delayed the completion even more, until now. 

Shameless lemon set in the City Hero universe with OOC Jerza.

//

“You are under arrest.”

Jellal grinned triumphantly as he held Erza in place on his bed, pinning her arms above her head and sitting astride her.

Erza shot Jellal an indignant glare but didn’t fight him to try to free herself. She recognized the lustful glint in his eyes; her heartbeat quickened with anticipation. 

“So what’s now?” She narrowed her eyes, looking at her blue haired boyfriend with a soft, sensual gaze; her lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Are you going to punish me?”

Jellal lowered his head towards hers and whispered to her ear. “I think I need to lock you up first. What do you say?”

Erza appreciated that Jellal always respected her will.

“Go ahead.”

Jellal opened the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He locked one cuff on one of Erza’s wrists and secured the other around the wooden pole of the bed’s headboard. Then he pulled out another pair from the drawer and repeated the same action on Erza’s other wrist. Erza felt her heart pounding excitingly in her chest as Jellal began undressing her, and wrapped her fingers around the chains of the handcuffs.

Handcuffs used to be a symbol of justice in young Erza’s eyes, for they belonged to the police officers whose job was to maintain peace in the city. And she felt privileged to use them to arrest criminals when she became a police officer herself. But her impression on handcuffs was challenged when she found out in one of her erotic novels that the tool could be used as a sex toy. She felt offended when she first read about it. Yet, the more erotic novels she read the more she felt being drew to the idea. There was a part of her, the curious and mischievous one, who wondered if being handcuffed would really inflame excitement as described in the stories, and secretly wished to test it herself one day. But she could have never imagined that she would find out the answer from having a suspected criminal - one she was supposed to arrest - as her lover. 

Erza closed her eyes and sighed as Jellal fondled her breasts and pinched her nipples through her bra after he unbuttoned the light blue shirt of her police uniform. She wanted his lips on hers and his wet mouth all over her hot skin but was unable to draw his face towards where she wanted him with her hands restrained. 

“Kiss me, Jellal.” She looked at him again with lust-filled eyes.

“Am I supposed to take orders from someone I’m punishing?” Smirking, Jellal lightly scratched the hardened tips of Erza’s breasts with his fingernails, making her squeak. 

“Please, Jellal, kiss me.” 

Erza pledged between her quickened breaths. She was a strong-willed woman, one who would not give in to any criminals, even the most scary ones, and would make them beg for her mercy with her powerful magic when doing her job. But with Jellal, she didn’t mind being the weak one between the two of them and submitting to him when they were out of prying eyes inside the bedroom. She loved the man - handsome, smart, witty, kind and as powerful as her, and found that she just couldn’t help but soften up when he flirted with her. She had not known any man to have such an effect on her before Jellal entered her life. It had somehow amazed her that a man who was able to overpower her actually existed, and even stole her heart.

“You are a good girl, Erza.”

Jellal dipped his head and captured Erza’s lips with his, stealing her breath away with a fervent kiss. He glided his mouth down her throat then over her chest, only stopped at the lace edge of her bra. He pulled down the bra cup using his teeth, exposing Erza’s full breasts, while he slipped a hand between her inner thighs. He circled one erect nipple with his tongue and rubbed the other with his fingertips as he pulled Erza’s panties down to her thighs, then slid two fingers through the slick folds of her sex. 

Erza moaned, feeling chills of pleasure and burning needs coiled at her core, as Jellal gave her inner walls deep yet deliberately long and slow strokes while continuing teasing her nipples. Her gaze landed on Jellal’s head above her breasts, and she imagined the feel of his wiry blue hair in her hands if she was able to weave her fingers in his tresses to pull at them. All she could do now with her cuffed hands, however, was tightening her fingers around the hard chains of the handcuffs as she jerked her hips upward to take Jellal’s fingers back inside her as soon as he pulled them out, feeling impatience with the pace he set. 

Jellal glanced at Erza through his bangs with a piercing gaze, as he pressed his thumb against her clit, eliciting a cry from her mouth. He then released her nipple from his lips and strengthened his back to watch Erza heaving and moaning helplessly beneath him, as well as the way her face contorted with pleasure as he rubbed her sensitive bead incessantly while swirling his fingers inside her soaking wet canal. 

“Je...Jellal……” Erza shuddered and arched her back, and the chains clanked as she pulled at them for support, when Jellal pushed her to the peak of pleasure then over the edge. 

As pleasure gradually subsided from her body, Erza lay flat against the mattress, catching her breath. She locked eyes with Jellal as he slid his fingers out of her core, and swallowed hard when he licked them clean from her juice.

“You taste sweeter than all the desserts I’ve made, Erza.”

“Shut up.” Erza muttered and looked away from Jellal, feeling embarrassed by his “compliment”. “Do you have no pride being a pastry chef?”

Jellal laughed. “I’m more proud to be your boyfriend, the one who can make your sweet juice overflow.” 

Leaning forward, he swiftly pressed his lips on Erza’s, not giving her another chance to protest against his dirty talk. He kissed her roughly, nipping her lips, before pushing his tongue into her mouth and going into a hot fight with her tongue for dominance. He broke away when he felt short of breath. Standing on his knees, he stripped himself naked, and smiled deeply when seeing Erza tightened her grip on the chains and stared at him intently while he wrapped his fingers around his cock. He then closed his eyes and ran his free hand in his hair as he began stroking himself.

Watching Jellal’s cock swell and grow rigid in his hand and an enjoyable expression spread across his face made Erza feel her inside burning with lust. And the sigh of satisfaction flew from his parted lips was fuel which further flamed her desires. She wished she could pump Jellal’s hard length in her soft hand and taste the pre-cum dripped from its tip. She wanted to kiss him hard as she impaled herself on him to swallow his sounds of satisfaction. She craved to ride his fat long cock until his seed burst inside her and the spasm of orgasm took over her. 

But things were in Jellal’s control now, not hers. Such a situation of course frustrated Erza to a certain extent because she had got used to ordering people around in her daily life, not the other way around, being a police officer. Yet, she had also found excitement in not knowing what would happen when she rendered herself completely to Jellal. She would look forward to finding out what surprises and new experiences Jellal would give her when she put down her ego and gave him the approval to rule over her. 

Still, Erza knew, too easily she would forcibly take things in her hands when feeling impatient. This was why sometimes she would welcome Jellal to apply handcuffing or bounding on her when they fucked, for it not only added some fun to the sex, but could also effectively stop her from going into her dominant mode. But Erza thought she had almost reached her limit of patience now. Her most intimate flesh between her inner thighs was pulsing and tingling and drenched with thick arousal as Jellal tantalized her with a steamy show of him masturbating. On instinct, she crossed her legs and wiggled her hips, trying to ease her sexual need, and sighed as she found a little bit of satisfaction. 

Jellal opened his eyes. His gaze on Erza was intense and clouded with lust. 

“You know you don’t have to suffer from this punishment, Erza, if only you ask humbly.”

Jellal withdrew his hands from his cock and his hair to grab Erza on her knees. He spread her crossed legs open, slid her panties off her legs before settling himself between her thighs. They signed together as he nudged her soaking and swollen entrance with the moist head of his cock.

“Come on, Erza.”

“Fuck me, Jellal.” Erza gasped out her demand, and moaned when Jellal rubbed his length along her opening, coating himself with her fluid. “Oh my god. Put your cock into me already.”

“Are you begging me to, fuck you, Erza?” Jellal panted out; his cock twitched, being stimulated by its contact with Erza’s intimacy. 

“Yes, I’m! Fuck me please, Jellal, I beg of you. I need you to fuck me the hardest you can!”

“Like, until you spasm uncontrollably, and can't feel anything but pleasure?”

“Yes. Yes.” Erza hissed.

“Fine.” 

Jellal drew back a little to turn Erza on her side, which forced her arms to cross in the process as her hands were locked in place by the handcuffs. He then bent her leg on top until her knee touched her chest and straddled her leg on the mattress, before he held his cock to position its head at her entrance again.

“Stop me if I go overboard and hurt you.” He told Erza softly.

With one forward thrust of his hips, Jellal sheathed his entire cock inside Erza, eliciting a sharp cry from her. He then stayed still, taking a moment to savour the blissful sensation coming from her warm and tight inner walls hugging him, sucking him in, before he began thrusting in and out of her.

Erza moaned from the depth of her throat, couldn't care holding back, feeling immense pleasure building up at her core rapidly as Jellal repeatedly drove his thick hard cock deep inside her with a force that was almost unbearable, stretching and filling her again and again to her limit. And her body jerked upward every time he grind his pelvis against her thighs. The handcuffs shook around her wrists and its chains swung following her body's movement, their clanking sounds echoed her lewd cries, filling up the space of the room.

“I-I’m close.” Erza said breathlessly, beginning to feel the convulsion of her inner walls. Then after a moment, she felt a new, unfamiliar sensation near her anus.

“Jellal?”

He was massaging her around her anus with his forefinger coated in his own saliva.

“Should I stop?”

There was a brief moment of delay in Erza's response.

“No.” She heaved.

Jellal pressed the pad of his forefinger against the small opening of Erza's back hole, and the muscles around it contracted at his touch. He slowed the thrusting of his hips as he carefully, slowly, pushed his digit through Erza’s anal ring slightly forcefully. When Erza whined at his intrusion but didn’t voice any protest, Jellal slid his digit out her anus a little, then slid it in again, and repeated the action, while he picked up the pace of the thrusting of his cock at her core.

Erza couldn’t tell, if mixing the unusual sensation of having her anus finger-fucked with the familiar sexual excitement coming from her core, had really stimulated her more. It was an exotic experience which disoriented her. She shut her eyes closed, moaning and whimpering, as her inner walls gripped at and contracted around Jellal’s throbbing cock more violently than before while he buried himself deep inside her. She trembled as she got extremely close to her climax, feeling thrills of pleasure travelling through her body, before she screamed into oblivion when a powerful orgasm finally erupted within her and took over her with wave after wave of ecstasy as Jellal plunged his cock into her one last time, shooting a load of his hot seed inside her for a lengthy moment.

Jellal eased his finger out Erza's anus and slid his softened cock out her core after emptying himself. He then fell on the mattress beside her. Their gaze locked as they were both panting for air. 

After their breathing had stabilized, Jellal leaned into Erza, kissing her softly on the lips.

“You are amazing, Erza.” He told her after pulling away. “How are you feeling?”

“Fantastic.” Erza smiled a small smile. “Exhausted in the best way.”

“Great.” Jellal smiled back at her, before he looked up at her cuffed hands. “Let me unlock you now.”

He held Erza’s forearms after freeing her, inspecting her wrists to see if the handcuffs had left marks on her skin. He gently ran his fingertips on the pale red marks he had found around her wrists.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, not really. But I will need to hide them from curious eyes when I go out with make-up foundation, as usual. That’s all.” 

Jellal nodded. “I’ll need to go out to do some stuff later. But you can stay as long as you want.”

Erza already knew the so-called “stuff” Jellal was going to do was the illegal job he did with good reasons with his secret identity, the mysterious masked thief.

“Be careful with what you do. Don’t get caught by my colleagues.”

“Don’t be worried, I won’t.” Jellal wrapped an arm around Erza’s waist, pressing her against him “If I was to be caught one day, I would make sure it would be you who put the handcuffs on me.”

Jellal closed the distance between their lips, kissing Erza deeply.

Snow - Chapter 8

Entire fic. AO3. 

Uh. [coughs]

---

“Lan Zhan, ah,” Wei Ying whines. “Lan Zhan, oh my god, ah, Lan Zhan, please.”

Wei Ying tries to raise his hips, tries to bring friction and pressure to where he wants it, but Lan Zhan simply presses him down into the mattress, keeping his pace just slow enough to be teasing and exactly nothing else. He’s been at it for what feels like hours now, fucking into Wei Ying with the leisure of a man who is spending some quality time on a sun bed on a Sunday afternoon. If Wei Ying can’t come soon, he’s going to go out of his mind. But Lan Zhan is unreceptive to Wei Ying’s increasingly more desperate begging, keeping his pace precisely frustrating.

It all started well enough – Lan Zhan took Wei Ying to his house again on Saturday, prepared and fed him another scrumptious meal. He lulled Wei Ying into a false sense of security with the help of delicious, fresh fish, so Wei Ying easily went along with him when Lan Zhan took him to bed, thinking that a little post-meal fuck was just the thing that he needed after he hadn’t seen Lan Zhan for two days in a row. He didn’t think anything about it when Lan Zhan stripped him naked, produced a nice, soft silk tie, and then proceeded to tie Wei Ying to the headboard.

He is a little kinky, okay; of course he’s going to like it when Lan Zhan holds him down and fucks him hard.

To assume that that was what Lan Zhan had in mind was his first mistake.

Lan Zhan tied him to the headboard, alright. He made sure that the tie did not cut into his wrists but still held tight enough that Wei Ying couldn’t slip out of it. And then, when Wei Ying thought that Lan Zhan would go a little barbarian on him (which would be pretty hot), he started to explore Wei Ying’s body at a slow, leisurely pace instead. Bit by bit, centimetre by centimetre, he touched, kissed and licked Wei Ying’s body, trailing his lips over Wei Ying’s chest and thighs, making him gasp and shiver. Wei Ying was hard and leaking before Lan Zhan ever moved into the vicinity of his dick. He was begging for Lan Zhan to take him before Lan Zhan gave the slightest inclination that that was what he was planning for Wei Ying.

The whole ordeal was embarrassing, to say the least. It’s one thing to be eagerly devoured, to be swept away by desire and excitement, to be taken out of your head by the feverish, frenzied touch of someone else. It’s something completely different to experience every single touch, every single look without the convenient filter of urgency. Wei Ying feels completely naked and exposed, tied to this bed, and he doesn’t mean that physically.

When Lan Zhan finally deigned to open him up, to ready him, Wei Ying thought his ordeal was finally finished, that Lan Zhan would finally fuck him properly. But he had underestimated Lan Zhan again. Instead of upping the pace, Lan Zhan slowly pressed into him, moved his hips in small tantalising movements that drove Wei Ying insane. It was frustrating. It was agonising. Lan Zhan was laying Wei Ying bare to the marrow of his bones. And it has been like this ever since, Lan Zhan studying him as he thrusts into Wei Ying again and again with far too much gentleness and patience. He wants to be fucked, dammit.

“Please, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying begs again. “I want to come. I want to come so badly.”

“Shhh,” is Lan Zhan’s only reply. “Patience.”

“Lan Zhan is cruel,” Wei Ying sobs, spreading his legs like a professional whore (because he is one now, and it’s all Lan Zhan’s fault) as he tries to make Lan Zhan touch the place inside of him that makes him see stars. “Horrible. You won’t care if I die.”

Lan Zhan, the absolute monster, stills his movements and leans down instead, to put his lips on Wei Ying’s ear shell and whisper into his ear, his breath tantalising on Wei Ying’s overheated skin.

“Am I cruel, Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, his voice a little hoarse. “Am I? Do I not take good care of you?”

He reaches down and strokes Wei Ying’s belly.

“Do I not provide you with good food? Do I not give you coffee and tea and whatever else you want? Was the ice cream after our meal today not to your taste? Were you not satisfied?”

He trails his fingers down Wei Ying’s abdomen, bypassing Wei Ying’s desperately leaking cock until they reach the place where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are joined together.

“Am I not giving you what you want right now? Were you not begging for it, just a little while ago? Spreading your legs for me so beautifully, asking me to fill you up. Do not be spoiled, Wei Ying. You will get what you were asking for, but you need to be patient.”

The touch and the surprisingly filthy words out of Lan Zhan’s usually so proper mouth make Wei Ying shake. If Lan Zhan is on a mission to utterly destroy him, then he’s doing an excellent job.

“Lan Zhan, let me come,” he sobs again.

“Still stubborn, I see,” Lan Zhan murmurs. “Wei Ying has always been stubborn. You will obediently take what I give you, or you will not come at all.”

Wei Ying is pretty sure that he could come right this moment if Lan Zhan would only touch him. A little precum dribbles on his stomach, and he throws his head back, ready to scream in frustration.

“Will you be, Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, still completely unfazed. “Will you be good and obedient?”

“I will! I will!” Wei Ying shouts. “Whatever Lan Zhan wants!”

“Good boy,” Lan Zhan murmurs.

Then he straightens up and resumes slowly fucking into Wei Ying with the same rhythm as before. Wei Ying tries to keep still, tries to be good, but when Lan Zhan’s hands wander down do his hips and start stroking his hip bones, he cannot help but writhe and moan wantonly.

God, he must be a sight right now. He feels utterly wrecked and he hasn’t even come yet. His insides are burning. He wants Lan Zhan to pound him senseless. He doesn’t want this gooey, sugary feeling spreading in his chest. He doesn’t want to feel like Lan Zhan is marking him inside and out. Wei Ying is already destroyed for anyone else, does Lan Zhan really have to make sure that he won’t be able to think of anything but Lan Zhan’s dick inside him for the next few days? He’s going to remember this, he is sure. He’s going to remember it in the worst moments, and it will be double the agony.

He decides to switch tactics.

“Lan Zhan,” he calls out. “Lan Zhan.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replies, still calm and unconcerned.

Wei Ying needs a few breaths to gather his words, and Lan Zhan doesn’t make it easier on him by slightly changing his pace, distracting him and making it hard to keep focused.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying moans. “Haven’t I been good enough already? Haven’t I pleased you yet?”

He spreads his legs emphatically.

“Am I not taking you like a good boy? I’ll only spread my legs like this for Lan Zhan. Only Lan Zhan can fuck me like this. Don’t I deserve a reward for being so good for Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan slips and thrusts into Wei Ying violently once, then stills and stares at Wei Ying with burning eyes.

“Look at me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying continues his ministrations. “I’m all tied up, I’m all yours, look at where you are right now. Inside me. I’m taking it so well, aren’t I? Please, Lan Zhan, I want it, I want it so bad. Please, Lan Zhan, fuck me, I’m all yours. I’m so good for you, only for you.”

Finally, finally, Wei Ying seems to have gotten through to Lan Zhan. He starts thrusting again, but this time, he’s moving in earnest, speeding up his pace. Soon, there is no sound in the room other than the slapping of flesh on flesh, Wei Ying moaning and tossing from side to side, unable to bear the sudden stimulation after being strung along for such a long time.

Then, after another excruciating wait, Lan Zhan’s hand finds its way between Wei Ying’s legs, strokes his dick once, twice, and he fucks Wei Ying right through the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life. Wei Ying’s nerves are fried, he doesn’t even know if he’s feeling pleasure or pain anymore. He’s unable to stop his body from shaking and shivering violently as Lan Zhan finally stills, breathing heavily as he kisses Wei Ying’s chest, bites his neck, licks the tears off his cheek.

Wei Ying is pretty sure he will never be a functioning human being ever again.

Lan Zhan is very, very good at destroying him.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to be a functioning being right now. Before long, Lan Zhan slips out of him, unties the silk around Wei Ying’s wrists and kisses the abused wrists gently. He then gets up, lifts Wei Ying from the bed, and carries him to the bathroom, where he gives Wei Ying the most thorough clean-up of his life.

---

After this intense round of sex, Lan Zhan’s slightly domineering, possessive mood seems to have vanished completely. He takes a nice and relaxing bath together with Wei Ying, and spoils him with coffee afterwards, as attentive and gentle as ever. Not that Lan Zhan was ever rough with him. Not that Wei Ying disliked that… different side of Lan Zhan. Not that it didn’t make him hot under the collar. Not that he… wouldn’t be perfectly willing to be tied up by Lan Zhan again. But he feels a little too shy to voice any of that, so he decides to focus on the delicious coffee Lan Zhan made for him, instead.

By the time they’ve finished their drinks, Wei Ying finally feels steady enough to stand on his own two legs again.

Lan Zhan dresses him in black jeans and a fluffy red jumper, and suggests a little walk around the neighborhood, to enjoy the remaining daylight. It’s cold again today, but after a cloudy morning, the sun has come out after lunch. It’s the ideal time to go on a walk and enjoy the remaining snow.

Huddled up and wrapped in Lan Zhan’s arm, Wei Ying lets himself be led on a walk through the small streets of the residential area that Lan Zhan’s house stands in. The whole neighbourhood is a rather curious affair. While there are some newer buildings, many houses here are clearly old, in various states of restoration and disrepair. Two or three of them are clearly abandoned, slowly crumbling apart. Others have small shops in them, family-operated and in existence by habit rather than by convenience, most likely. All in all, it’s a strange mixture of a variety of different people living together, rich and poor alike. Wei Ying wonders a little why the Lan family owns a house in such a place, when they could easily afford a villa in the most exclusive part of town.

He watches as some children play among the snowbanks piled up at both sides of the street. They’re throwing snowballs at each other, shouting and laughing as they run past Wei Ying and Lan Wangji, carefree. Only sometimes, a parent sticks their head out of a window and calls for order – a command that promptly goes ignored.

He feels a little nostalgic at the sight.

In fact, he notices with sudden clarity, this entire place seems strangely familiar to him. There is something about it that– he shakes himself out of his rapidly darkening thoughts and steers Lan Wangji into a different direction.

He doesn’t remember much from when he was living on the streets, but it’s enough to rob him of his sleep some nights. He remembers the freezing cold, the icy wind blowing through the cracks in the crumbling walls of an abandoned house. He remembers the stale smell of piss and other, more disgusting odours. He remembers strange, haunting noises in the night, endless hours spent scouring the streets for something, anything. He remembers barking dogs and the feeling of never-ending hunger turning and twisting in his belly like a creature, alive and restless.

He left that misery behind.

He shakes the memory off.

Lan Zhan says nothing, but he seems to sense that Wei Ying is feeling a little out of it. He drags him closer and presses a kiss to Wei Ying’s temple, and it’s so warm and gentle that no bad memory can touch him with its clammy fingers as long as he’s in Lan Zhan’s safe embrace.

America & Libi

America: This is gonna sound thirsty as hell cos it is 👌 America: your boyfriend's friend, Sean America: do I have a shot? Libi: 😂 Thirst away, I know he would be SO flattered Libi: Bobby isn't MY boyfriend, but that's by the by and so not why you're in my inbox right now Libi: well, he isn't dating anyone, that I know of, I'll ask Bobby to confirm but I'm like 99% sure Libi: and of course he thinks you're cool, you guys would be a sweet match America: He ISN'T? I thought - never.mind 🤫 America: anywayyy America: did he say I was cool? LOL yeah I really feel it now Libi: Everyone says that, don't worry Libi: we're just best friends Libi: Awh, don't be silly! I'm not going to go tell him word for word Libi: like that's not an exact quote but I know the few times we've hung out all together he's had a good time, specifically hanging out with you America: if you're gay I'm like really sorry for getting your hopes up with my thirsty opener! America: Sean does not deserve that quick of a U-turn from me Libi: Not, so you're totally cool and not on the gay girl shit-list Libi: not for this anyway, I don't know who is, officially Libi: He talked about your party for AGES after Libi: even though that got cut short 😕 did you get in so much trouble? America: The reaction from my sister alone would be reason to do it but I don't think I can commit that hard to you & that idea America: maybe if Sean says no America: I hope he didn't say anything about that part of the party when he was talking about it or I'll have to go crawl in a hole America: or bury my mam's boyfriend in one America: did you get to have any fun? I literally don't remember seeing you when we left your house Libi: Well, she is my biggest fan Libi: who's 💔 is theoretically worse, hers or mine rn? Libi: Just what we were all thinking Libi: which was that we thought that guy might keel over if he didn't 🤐 sooner rather than later Libi: so I'm glad you're already making funeral plans though not because that must suck Libi: no, we had a good time, lost in the crowd seems like the answer America: Jake is the only one with any power to 💖✂ her, don't worry, & she's my biggest fan for pointing out on the regs he's a waste of unblemished skin America: we were making all kinds of plans before she got 🍆💫 America: guess I'm on my own with keeping the good times coming ➜ Libi: 🤨 I'm not sure I've heard him say anything interesting before Libi: It's usually a lot of posing and preening, right Libi: but who am I to judge America: 🤣 I'm on the classroom floor rolling America: neither of them are looking for intellectual stimulation from each other Libi: 😅 Apologies to your teacher Libi: I'll pretend my 😳 is paint America: Miss visibly wants to get me diagnosed with something, it's a long-running thing we have going Libi: Like it makes them any more equipped to deal when they have a name for something Libi: must be a funding issue Libi: but that's a rant for another day 🤓 America: Sean is gonna have his work cut out now America: get your not boyfriend to tell him, game on, but he's in competition with you Libi: I'll go easy on him 😉 Libi: oh, and he is 100% single and 100% tried to read that message so America: misbehaviour puts him back in the 🏃 Libi: Damn Libi: Would helping you have a meet-cute with him bizarrely help my case? America: how cute? sharing in my sister's delusions is a turn off Libi: I don't think he's that kind of guy Libi: BUT it would not be weird for me to bring you along to hang with my not boyfriend and it wouldn't be any weirder if he asked Sean, casually America: which means what I've been thinking about him is right America: & you don't have to be disqualified for trying to drag me into some fake paradise where everyone is in love with themselves Libi: I mean, like all boys Libi: or most, I would be asked to ** in Libi: he talks a bigger game than he has, but I mean that in the best possible way, honestly Libi: he's nicer than he can sometimes sound, you know what I mean? America: me too, I hope Libi: You sound nice Libi: thirst and all America: I scared you away before, couldn't let that happen before I got what I wanted from you Libi: No, that was your mum's fella Libi: I promise Libi: I'm just not a party pro America: that's what I mean, before at your 🏠 I could tell you two were out of your depth Libi: I hope you didn't take it as a personal, you and your party thing though America: it wasn't my party Libi: Sorry, no doubt she'd be 😤 over my lack of distinction there Libi: you know what I mean America: I'm just a guest that she didn't really want there, like you Libi: I don't get the whole sibling thing Libi: only child perk and curse, I guess Libi: but I'm not anti-party or anti-you, for the record Libi: just less initiated America: & I'm not anti-anyone cos Chi is, putting that on the record while we're stating facts Libi: Fair enough 🤝 Libi: I don't take it personally from her, also btw Libi: how she has been about Bobs, moreso but that's not on you so like ❌ America: she acts like she burst out of her crib knowing how to do a smoky eye & what shots she liked best America: you've got time to get initiated if you want to America: & yeah, I know she's a dick about anyone not in her ⬛ of perceived coolness Libi: I've got very little shame in how far away from a smoky eye I was as a kid 😂 Libi: She's not the only one Libi: ⬛ are boring Libi: more boring than I probably seemed that night Libi: 🤞 America: I thought you were just 😍💖 America: that's a lot of people in my life right now though so that's probably why Libi: Oh God, you do not need to tell me Libi: I feel like EVERYONE is suddenly, it's wild America: & now me jumping into your inbox America: what's in the water? Libi: I'm sure the Bio teachers are screaming hormones right now Libi: 😬 gross but true America: Whatever the reason, I didn't mean to contribute to the 💖💣 in your face Libi: You're so beyond fine Libi: not anti-love Libi: or a nun America: you'd be in luck if you were, we aren't calling this love Libi: 😍💖? Libi: Gotcha America: interest America: the 1st I've broadcast Libi: Worth pursuing Libi: I hope I've helped confirm, anyway America: maybe we'll end up just friends like you & Bobby or < America: but I think he's worth pursuing Libi: no harming in 👀 or trying, right America: for the right people Libi: I'll drink to that Libi: not right RIGHT now though because that is paintbrush water and I've made that mistake before 🤢 America: vivid flashbacks to your pre-party drinking face America: shock & disgust Libi: Oh nooooooo 😭 Libi: really sold myself as life of the 🥳 Libi: 😂🙄 America: It wasn't any different for me, if you'd be there to see it Libi: No one is doing it for the taste yet are they Libi: I refuse to believe America: I don't think anyone's doing it for the taste ever America: wine or whiskey snobs only wanna show off America: & that's grown adults Libi: My granddad would be so offended 😅 America: If he wants to try & change my mind, I'll come over Libi: Sounds fun Libi: but also like a potential way for him to lose his license so maybe we'll keep it between us America: Why can't he use his words without bringing the 🍷🥃? America: it's like those people who are all about how 🌶🌶🌶 or rare something is America: you wish you were 💪 we understand Libi: I didn't know you just wanted a debate but that's cool too Libi: come over any time, like America: it's off the table at my house America: he'll start blowing a whistle & stop all verbal communication soon America: not a nun either so I assume I won't be into it Libi: Yikes, he should try getting a 🐶 or two Libi: even then, probably be disappointed, soz America: I'll pitch the idea as long as it ends in disappointment Libi: if he doesn't love puppies you know he's not the one America: I know that about him already America: What's Sean's stance? Libi: Good question Libi: I shall 💬 America: don't lie to score points yourself, I'll find out Libi: [so many dog pictures which clearly aren't just her and Killer but her and Twix and Bobby too] Libi: ➕ America: OMG Libi: Yeah 😎 Libi: they're old ladies now but they were puppies once [a throwback we just have] America: Miss is gonna live for this U-turn from 🤣 to 🥺 America: name that personality disorder, bitch Libi: Looking like a poor taste budget horror Libi: LOVE that America: get my good side with that 📹 of yours Libi: but every personality Libi: Got this 🎬 America: every personality's best bits Libi: I wish I could fix everything in post Libi: life would be so ✨ America: edit out Gary America: make Chi less of a cow America: make my other sister reappear Libi: So wild to me how your sister used to be 'round my grandma's at the same time I was and I really can only just remember those days Libi: what is she up to now? America: 😍💖 Libi: Ah Libi: of course Libi: like everyone else in the world America: but you know, with a rented flat & office job Libi: The grown-ups version Libi: I feel you America: I don't know what the fuck we're calling what my mam is playing at America: but yeah, give my sister more grown up points than that Libi: How long has he been on the scene, Gary? America: too long LOL America: but that'd be 1 date in his case Libi: I can't imagine how awkward that must be when it's your mum and your house Libi: it's bad enough when a friend or an auntie or something dates a dickhead America: she's dated fuckwits for as long as she's dated America: but they don't usually see a month in Libi: I'll 🤞 he's gone sooner rather than later America: Thanks Libi: You're okay, right? Libi: That might be weird to ask America: I guarantee it's weirder to answer Libi: You don't have to, that was out of line Libi: but if you wanted to, I wanted to give you the chance, even though all I can do is listen Libi: but we can as easily leave it America: I'm 👌 in the sense that he's probably not gonna murder us all in our beds Libi: That's always something America: but if your grandad decides to leave your nan, I'm down to move in & have nightly debates Libi: It's been nearly 60 years so Libi: he's either overdue or change or you're out of luck Libi: but you're still invited to come crash when you need America: unless Sean makes me a better offer, you win Libi: Of course, of course America: unlikely, I can't really open with please rescue me Libi: Might be a bit strong Libi: but the spare room doesn't come with any of those connotations America: Can I have the dog too? Libi: She'll have to decide for herself, it would be rude for me to Libi: but she's pretty chill as long as you give her treats or attention so it's likely America: What's her name? Libi: Killer Libi: I did not name her America: 😶 I don't really get to say anyone's got a shit name anyway Libi: What's in a name, the English teachers will chime in America: music teacher would probably say a lot Libi: **harmonize it, please America: [does as if we're not fully in class rn] Libi: Brava! 👏 Libi: so much better than whatever 'painting' I've managed this lesson, whoops America: that'll be my L to take for not shutting up America: sorry to your 🎨 Libi: We'll all survive, even if this not-masterpiece does not 🗑 Libi: painting is not my thing anyway America: I never got prime fridge real estate America: as an only child, you would Libi: Only child, technically, but my grandparents have ALL the grandkids, so it didn't always work out like that America: my nan has the same favourite as my mam so 🤷 America: consistency 🎊🎉 Libi: I don't need 3 guesses Libi: why is it Libi: is she most like them or what America: 👼 America: blue eyed, blonde haired fucking wonder America: my entire family IS that shallow Libi: Well I can say blue eyes are overrated and you can say blonde hair is America: skipping over the 🚩 of taking German when my family are basically neo-Nazis Libi: will have to get you out of my DMs stealth if that one rings true Libi: no negotiating America: I don't want to do the cliché plea of how different I am but like, in this instance, it holds up Libi: I'll hear it America: how does a girl prove she's not a Nazi around here? 💭 Libi: 😂 Can you prove/disprove a negative is a big 💭 Libi: too big for before lunch, I think America: Gary's existence proves a negative Libi: 📢🔥 Libi: He felt that America: 💖✂ Libi: If that's the order of the day, I'm not mad Libi: have played cupid once here so America: What about you? Libi: What about me? America: There's absolutely no 😍💖? Libi: Oh, nah Libi: not right now 🤷 America: Then you probably can't answer my kissing questions America: I think that practising on my hand has to be movie propaganda but pretending it'll be perfect & I won't 🤤 all over anyone has to be too Libi: I could try Libi: I've had some but maybe not recently enough to experience counts? America: this close to picking up a 🎸 & opening the floor for them but my sister would KILL me Libi: and Miss would fully be staging an intervention before you could get any decent ones America: even though she's literally a teacher & I'm asking to be taught something Libi: The hypocrisy 😏 Libi: I think the less you think about it the easier it is Libi: which is such non-advice I know America: 👌 have a drink & just do it Libi: lowkey, yeah Libi: nerves never help a performance, right Libi: sure your teacher would have to agree on that one America: Did I agree to putting on a show for him? 👌 I see how it is Libi: 😲 Libi: not what I meant America: No? Libi: I mean, do what you wanna Libi: but not sure he warrants that much effort yet America: 🤣 America: I hope he didn't feel that 💖✂ Libi: It's not shade so it's okay Libi: I covered that he's nice before I went there 🙃 America: Did he go out with Michelle? Libi: Our sources say yes Libi: couple of months America: A couple of months seriously or casually? You were there Libi: I think he thought it was more serious than it was Libi: but I don't think he's looking for that America: & they're 100% over, no hang ups Libi: Totally America: cos she seems cool, I'm not trying to start something Libi: She's chill Libi: he's a free agent Libi: and he's interested too, for sure America: the interrogation can stop 🎊🎉 it's not making me look very chill Libi: I'll never tell Libi: plus you've distracted me from a boring lesson so it's okay Libi: a favour, really America: I can tell you're an only child America: my sisters would use anything I said or did or almost said or did against me if they can Libi: Damn, should I be keeping these in my backpocket? America: realistically Libi: SO bad at this Libi: I'm a slightly better friend 🤞 America: Being somewhere in the middle of a total dick & and a good friend, I'm not the right person to help you get better at either America: partying though America: if you ever want Libi: It would be useful Libi: not gonna lie Libi: as you got what you wanted, like America: I'll knock for you Libi: 👍 Bobby can come too, right? America: yeah, he can join in too America: I won't insist that he kisses me but pitch the idea Libi: I'll 🏏 America: There's always something going on, even with my house being not enough like a morgue but simultaneously too much like a morgue Libi: Halloween isn't the only time for costume parties 👻🧛👽🤖 America: I knew I fucked with you Libi: 😏 Libi: people who think costume parties suck have 0 imagination America: or only wanna look a certain way Libi: that too Libi: heaven forbid you have fun and don't just sit there 😘 America: if Chi didn't feel that, I'll be the one 💖✂ Libi: you can always say it yourself and take credit Libi: on me America: ghost writer, there's a costume in that America: she doesn't just sit there honestly, but it's not about having fun, she'll do fucking anything but it's to keep everyone looking at her Libi: I guess that accounts for some of it Libi: Middle child syndrome is a costume too Libi: if a little abstract America: Favourite child too, but she's got too much wear out of that one as is Libi: No repeats America: worse crimes have been committed than tiara recycling Libi: Maybe Libi: but it's close America: you've got jokes America: I don't think you really need me to teach you anything to be fun at 🥳 America: I predict some kind of 📹 prank is about to happen to me Libi: If youtube pranks are still fun and cool, I'm gonna have to ❌ that because yikes Libi: I just, there's a lot of it that everyone else does that I don't see the point to Libi: for me, anyway America: You don't have to do things that everyone else is doing Libi: Technically Libi: I don't think everyone else is the PSA enabler friend/peer pressure pusher or anything Libi: but it does other you if you don't join in, to a degree, with a lot of it America: 👌 so when we get to your limit, stop me Libi: Okay Libi: but don't go easy just because this all makes me sound about 7 America: Miss wouldn't have oppositional defiant disorder on her diagnosis checklist if I went easy on anyone Libi: 😂 Libi: She's really gone through psychology today yeah America: she's clearly so bored America: & wishing she had talent to scout America: I literally can't have that cos I don't see teachers as authority figures in the first place Libi: Delusions of grandeur ✔ for her America: 🤣 America: sorry you can't control me bitch, call Gary & compare notes Libi: Maybe Gary should bring in his CV America: we'd both love to see more of each other Libi: Of course Libi: and he's the ideal candidate for hapless teacher #46 who can't control their class America: if he ended up 🤯 my mam would 😍😗 the little neck stump America: she's that far gone Libi: Again, I only have experience by-proxy Libi: but that usually ends up 🤯 everything else Libi: so I 👂 America: You heard right in my experience America: my da's got enough left of him to sign a cheque, I picture him like that Adam's family hand Libi: [does the clicks in a boomerang type thing] America: nailed it! Libi: You know Libi: didn't want to be the girl who makes everything about her dead parents Libi: but arguably I'm the proof of everything going 🤯 so I do know a little bit about it America: Shit sorry! I forgot Libi: Don't be Libi: it's good it's not like, forefront of the facts you can recall on me, if anything America: I know what you mean, from a family of attention seeking whores isn't how I like to advertise myself Libi: I'm sure I could make a claim for that title too according to the masses Libi: but neither of us need to 📢 America: send my apologies to Sean if that's what he was expecting America: I do need attention but it doesn't have to be sexual specifically, as Miss can testify Libi: I should HOPE she can America: She plays hard to get, for all her therapizing Libi: She in the 🏃? America: only in the fantasy land she's created Libi: Bless her Libi: any way to kill the day is this place's motto, I think America: 🎼 school song if I do some more harmonising 🎹 Libi: 🌹👏 America: Due credit to you & your ideas America: I couldn't be happier it's not a 😍💖 song Libi: Likewise Libi: so it's worth it and you're welcome Libi: I can give Sean your number, I presume? America: & any screenshots you've taken as mean girl practice Libi: Only the worst bits, obvs Libi: 😘 America: my ugliest sides 👺👺 America: Still not a nazi btw, I just realised the 👃 and brows are a bit anti-Jewish propaganda Libi: 🤔 What if you realizing that is racist though? Libi: conundrum America: well fuck Libi: Hypothetically though Libi: goes a bit beyond mean girl territory to accuse you of racism/fascism America: slightly yeah Libi: thus I would NEVER Libi: 😎 only America: you've seen Gary so you know my hatred isn't rooted in anything racist there America: 🎊🎉 Libi: Can back you up there Libi: nothing but warranted and fair America: Thanks Libi: Has he 💬 yet or is he playing it cool? America: Cool or his teacher is a dick 📴 America: hopefully he's not in a lesson with my sister, that'll turn him off Libi: Not ideal Libi: She's probably changed all her classes to match Jake's, right? America: 🤮 Libi: Too real America: the upside of Gary's regime is that I don't have to see Jake at my house on the regs Libi: Upside? Libi: That's the WHOLE appeal America: 👏 You're not one of the 'everybody' Chi thinks is obsessed with him 🎊🎉 Libi: I don't even know him, in reality Libi: so I probably shouldn't 💬 on him but the only times I've heard him speaking he's been being dismissive or rude so Libi: meh America: Nobody knows him in reality, they live a bubble 🏰👑 America: but when you party, you'll get to know him America: what a fuckwit he happily presents himself as Libi: 😰 Libi: as long as that's in the bottom 3 of the experience, not top, then it won't put me off the 🥳 as a whole America: don't worry, you're too pretty to have to hear the full 💯 Libi: ❓❓❓ America: I just mean, he'll frame it like a compliment for you, so it'll be easier to take or brush off Libi: Compliments don't mean much when they come from an arsehole Libi: 🤷 America: I know Chi didn't feel that Libi: We've all got our taste, I guess Libi: or lackthereof Libi: I'm making myself sound more and more like a nun by the minute America: Not gonna insist that you prove you're not Libi: 🤞 it'll become clear Libi: obvious lack of habit aside America: Excellent wordplay Libi: Do my best Libi: though as it's art, not english, probably not appreciated by anyone but you rn America: Graffiti is words a lot of the time & that's art Libi: That's a good point Libi: I'll have to see if he goes for it America: Good luck Libi: Do you like high school so far? America: maybe that's supposed to be a weirder question than if I'm okay, but I lowkey do like it Libi: Me too 🙃 Libi: Primary was really boring by the end America: I thought everyone would treat me like a giant baby but I've made so many cool older friends already America: & I refuse to give my sister credit for them ALL Libi: Yeah, I thought the same thing Libi: apart from the usual dickheads being like that to everyone whatever the reason, everyone's been pretty chill Libi: and it's nice that we have SOME say over what we take now, instead of just doing a bit of everything America: My even older sister, from your flashbacks, made this place seem really different America: in a bad way Libi: SAME Libi: not your older sister, that would be random Libi: my aunties and stuff made it sound like literal HELL though America: She is a LOL random type, honestly, I'd believe it Libi: 😂 Libi: No DM slides from either sister, we're 👌 America: that'll happen when she finds out you pimped me to Sean Libi: 😬 Libi: well when you put it like THAT America: jk she hasn't threatened anyone on my behalf since everyone was over my OUTRAGEOUS lies about who my da was & I got doxxed to prove how 🥱 he is America: Primary really did get boring by the end Libi: Like I said, no imagination America: what was your favourite lie of mine? Everyone's got one Libi: 🤔 Libi: Long haul lorry driver Libi: because it seemed the most realistic so everyone thought that one was true America: I tripped myself up when I added he witnessed that 🚽 murder Libi: Right Libi: and then suddenly it was all along route 66 Libi: 👎 America: it was a better naming story than my mam's real reasons, I stand by that Libi: Was she a big traveller or wishes she was? America: this would be the PERFECT time for an elaborate lie Libi: Feel free America: you're expecting it now Libi: Suppose that does take away most of the fun Libi: Everyone thought I made up all the stuff about my parents too America: Why didn't you? Libi: That's the thing, probably would've been more comfortable for everyone if I did, honestly Libi: guess the details made it seem unbelievable enough but it just didn't cross my mind, really Libi: I was just wanting to 💬 about them all the time when I was little America: I remember that! Not saying you inspired me to become a pathological liar with how cool it all sounded though America: I probably wouldn't even if Chi hadn't be so mad you gatecrashed her birthday party Libi: 😏 See, can't say I couldn't hang America: she'll still try to but she's said worse Libi: To be expected America: like a text from Sean Libi: Let's not get it twisted though Libi: not excited for it America: 😐 is me Libi: What emoji can I be/ America: 🥳 when I'm done with you, bitch Libi: 😂 I accept America: ask your not boyfriend when he's down & slide into my dms Libi: I will Libi: You can hit up Sean and ask him when he hits you up, finally Libi: I think he's gonna hit you up just after lunch Libi: to show he's casual America: 🐁🐈 America: I'll resist the urge to throw myself at him before then America: to show I understand how this all works Libi: Very mature Libi: or actually, not, but we have to get down to boy's levels America: he's about at our level right now, I think that's how the age gap works Libi: That's fair Libi: there's a lot of lads who still think we're diseased or are more interested in whatever game they are rn America: yeah, I don't know how much he knew about me before we met but there's no escaping that we only just got here America: an age based lie isn't happening Libi: No, that's not working Libi: I don't think you need to lie though Libi: he clearly wants to get to know you more too or I'd be awkwardly letting you down right now, right America: unless you're either too nice to do it or mean enough to want to see me make a twat of myself Libi: 🧐 Libi: Have to see, but I am neither, for the record America: catch me on the rebound 🕷🕸 Libi: All part of the plan America: I'll partner up with you in PE, give you a chance to make your move America: the seating plan'll fuck you over for the rest America: really would look like a nazi if I force Bekah to give up her seat for me like I'm your new BFFL America: 💖💣 Libi: Maybe we don't bring up the 2nd N word around her, like Libi: otherwise she's gonna be cool America: 👌 I'll 🤫 America: no casual German dropped into the conversation Libi: You wanna sit next to each other in German though Libi: the boy I sat next to is 🥱😴 America: The boy I sit next to did fall asleep recently so yeah America: I need to know if I'm 🥱 or he's 😴 & it's not about me Libi: 👋 It's a date Libi: 😘 jk America: they do like it when we roleplay America: 💐🕯🍷

The Pursuit of a Simple Life (Chapter 2 - Pizza My Heart)

[Co-Authored with @emeraldrosequartz​]

Rating : 18+ (there be lots of citrus here).

Warning: None

Pairing: Loki/Original Female Character

Summary: Three years after returning to Earth with the other Asgardians following Ragnarok, Loki finds himself working for SHIELD, truly just trying to fight the boredom. While on an undercover mission, he unexpectedly begins to fall for his co-worker, Gemma, and she seems to feel the same way…about Dave, his alter ego while in disguise. Can Loki continue a relationship with her while keeping his true identity a secret? How many lies can the 'God of lies' spin to keep his pursuit of a simple life?

[Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017); THOR IS A GOOD BRO AND TOTALLY NOT HOW HE WAS IN RAGNAROK, THNX; Infinity War Doesn't Exist; Everyone lives]

A/N: Gemma and 'Dave' get to know each other a bit more over 'doggy style' pizza. And then she discovers certain things about him which are just too-good-to-be-true.

_________________________________

IMPORTANT NOTES:

Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Gemma's POV

_________________________________

She took his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel her shaking. She felt like she was in a daze. Of Dave. A Dave Daze...

The restaurant - called “Pizza My Heart” (how awkward!) - was only a block away, so they walked over and found a booth next to the salad bar where the table wasn’t dirty or sticky.

After a few giddy minutes, Gemma finally relaxed enough to enjoy their conversation after her first slice of the “Doggy Style” pizza - Dave insisted he didn’t know what the term meant, but Gemma had her doubts. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to actually say what it meant.

And they talked...for hours. They talked about how stupid their jobs were, mostly. But he asked her so many questions about herself...she felt... special. Dave made her feel interesting and funny and cool. And as she got more comfortable with him...she started seeing him as less intimidatingly handsome and more...approachable. Like he might actually be more than just a distant infatuation.

Suddenly, the waiter told them that they were closing. Gemma looked around--they were the only ones left in the restaurant, and she hadn’t even noticed.

And it was two in the morning.

“Oh my GOD! I’m going to be a wreck tomorrow...” she groaned, but with a very happy smile on her face. “That’s ok. It was worth it. Best dinner I’ve had in a long time. Thank you, Dave!”

She raised her plastic soda cup in a toast.

Loki nudged his soda cup to hers, smiling widely. "I, for one, am very glad that I got to monopolize your time today. Finally got to know the girl who I only knew the name of. Though a beautiful name it is, I wanted more."

He watched the red creep up her peachy cheeks in response to his words. Really, making her blush was so much fun, it was almost like a game to him now.

What else could he say next to make little Gemma go red? It gave his overactive mind something nice to do, when it was not thinking about the mission.

Still, he knew that he couldn't afford to think too much about Gemma, or he'd... fixate. He had this odd habit of becoming near obsessive over things and people he developed a liking for. Moderation wasn't in his nature, Thor had once commented on it after settling on Midgard, seeing him develop an obsession over Midgardian climates and their corresponding architecture.

Oh well... for at least three years he had kept himself busy enough to not fixate on anything. The SHIELD missions were enough stimulation for his needy brain.

But now, seeing the smiling, blushing pretty face of Gemma, he was getting the feeling that his brain needed another type of stimulant.

Or was it his body?

Her brightness and endearing awkwardness contrasted him so much, it was hard not to be drawn to her. He was so full of dark thoughts, many of which had manifested during his rampage across Midgard not long ago, brought to the surface by the Scepter. While he was a churning storm, Gemma was like a fluffy fair-weather cumulus.

As they got out of their booths and headed back towards their company office, he briefly wondered how it would've been had he met Gemma back in 2012. Norns, he probably would not have shown the restraint he was showing now; he would've ended up doing something very, very bad.

Like abduct her and keep her with him. Like a pretty trinket.

But Gemma is not a possession, he reminded himself. Gemma is a person. She decides what she does, not me.

And yet, a tiny part of his psyche still wanted to possess her. He strangled that part quickly.

"So, I was thinking I should drop you home," he said, grasping her delicate hand as she headed toward the nearby, empty bus stop. "It's pretty late, and I don't want you traveling alone."

He used his very persuasive tone with her, knowing that it worked well with Midgardians and Asgardians alike. And his request was earnest as well. He actually felt protective of her and didn't want her to be vulnerable.

She was a good girl, after all. So sweet and well mannered, not a single blemish marred her gentle heart.

“But...I...it’s fine, really. I take the bus everywhere. And frankly, I’m still totally wired on caffeine. I think I’ll probably be up all night anyway...”

Oh, she knew what he was doing. But after the hours of friendly banter, she was feeling...secure. And as much as she swore she would never sleep with a co-worker...come ON. This was turning out to be the makings of a story she would remember for years to come, about how she --the humble, awkward little Gemma--slept with her hot British co-worker. And besides, the way he talked, it sounded like he was already looking for jobs at other companies, and she couldn’t blame him. This job sucked.

“Um...would you mind...if I came over for a drink? I don’t have anything at my house...”

Oh, that was a lame excuse. But she hoped it worked.

Loki grinned at her as she fumbled with her words again, still not letting go of her hand.

"Sure, I'm glad you mentioned it. I could use another drink as well, I think. And at my place, you'd be spoiled for choice."

He led her to his car then, while still mentally admonishing himself for taking this step. She was not a permanent fixture in his life, and he simply shouldn't take things in the direction he was taking them.

Alas, he was a selfish man, and he wanted to indulge himself.

Once settled in the car, he made sure to fix her seatbelt for her before getting started. Midgardians needed that bit of safety measure. Always.

As he pulled the car out of the complex, he decided that he'd probably share a drink or two with her, and then he'd... and then he'd let her be.

It was for the best.

Gemma slid down into the black leather seat of the nicest car she had ever seen. It was not just “clean,” but perfectly so, like it had been driven from a showroom. It was a beautiful white--even in the harsh yellow of the parking lot lights it looked amazing. The Jaguar XF had obviously been customized to his exacting standards, from the elegant emerald green trim on the interior, to the intricately carved details in the dashboard.

And he put her seatbelt on . She was vibrating with excitement as he walked around the car and got in, turned the ignition, and pulled out of the empty lot.

“I like your car,” she said, feeling dumb. What she wanted to say was Holy SHIT this is the fanciest car I’ve ever seen in my life! But, thankfully, she resisted. “You must be a pretty good salesman.”

"Thank you, I had purchased it back in London," he replied warmly, liking the fact that she looked as mesmerized by the interiors as she was with the exterior.

Loki was used to the attention that his cars received. He had chosen this one in particular for this mission, for he had to build a life for himself as marketing personnel, someone with a good lifestyle and a lot of extra income.

Not that he got a car for each of his missions... but SHIELD was pathetic in building this kind of a charade for the lack of funds on their part.

Loki certainly had no lack of funds, and using them on his missions was like a hobby of his.

"You have an interest in cars?" he asked conversationally as he maneuvered the vehicle easily on the now near empty roads.

“I do now!” she said, running her hand over the dashboard. It felt like silk under her fingers, and she noticed that the carvings were inlaid with gold.

Her mind drifted off, imagining what it would be like to fuck him in the back seat...

Woah, girl...it was just pizza.

She laughed silently to herself, then watched the streetlights pass over his face as they drove.

“What’s London like? I’ve never been there...”

“It's mostly quieter than New York, and parts of it really take you back in time," he replied, giving her a wink and turning his eyes back on the road. "I still have some ties to it. My family cottage on the outskirts and my house in West Brompton. I think you'd like it there."

Why was he talking to her about his life? Those actually were his properties in London, but he should not be imparting that information to her.

Well, it didn't jeopardize the mission in any way, so it was fine. Fury would never know, and even if he did, what could he do about it?

Loki knew that he was now a valuable asset for SHIELD. Fury would never do anything to change that.

As they pulled up to his apartment building, Gemma stared up and up and up the glass sides. It was massive, gorgeous, and right in the heart of downtown Manhattan. He glided up to the entrance, then got out and handed his keys to the valet before walking around and opening her door.

Gemma felt weak in the knees...and INCREDIBLY underdressed and out of place in her Avengers gym shirt and work skirt. If she had known asking to come to his place meant coming here...she would have at least wanted to touch up her make-up.

But then...he looked at her. He smiled at her! He held her hand gently and led her from the car into the enormous, luxurious lobby. Her expression probably made her look like an idiot, and if there were anything she could have done to stop it, she would have.

Unfortunately, she was well and truly dumbstruck by his apartment building. “What floor are you on?” she asked breathlessly as he led her toward the elevators.

"Oh, you'll see," he answered impishly as they entered the elevator.

He pushed the button for the penthouse, then turned to witness her reaction. She was already looking so nervous about being here, it was so very... cute.

Gemma hugged the walls of the elevator, eyes flicking rapidly between Dave’s face and the button he pushed. She honestly thought he might be messing with her, and she was waiting for him to laugh and hit the button for a lower floor. But he didn’t...and the higher up they went, the harder her heart pounded.

“Wow...I am in the wrong line of work...” She gasped, eyes wide as the elevator slowed to a stop. She heard a soft ding, and the doors opened.

Loki chuckled as he led her out of the elevator and into his penthouse apartment. Really, seeing her this impressed, he was very tempted to take her to France and to lead her into the castle he had there.

Her reaction to that would be something else...

"It's not all about the work, I come from a line of old money," he stated as he turned the lights on. "I've been very... lucky in life."

Well, at least in terms of having monetary stability and luxury…

Gemma hadn’t let go of his hand since he had helped her out of the car, but now she took a few steps away, looking at him suspiciously.

“Why the hell are you working at PAC & Co? Do they seriously pay you enough to keep doing that shitty job when you have all this?”

As impressed and amazed as she was, this just wasn’t making sense. A few hours ago they were stuck late in that crappy office with a malfunctioning printer...now she was looking out over the New York skyline from his penthouse.

Oh dear... he should've expected her sharp and curious mind to reach its own conclusions about him. This was why he had never fraternized or made friends on his missions.

This was why bringing her here was unwise. But now, it had been done, and he had to do some damage control.

It wasn't like his other missions, where he could just kill off an inconvenient loose end. Gemma was an innocent...

He let out a loud laugh at her suspicious question. "Gemma, why do you think I'm here, if not for a transitional job that won't break my job experience and give me enough time to find a better one?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, still unsure. But GOD, was she hoping he had a good reason, because she was definitely going to fuck him if he could convince her.

“What’s a transitional job? Transitioning from what?”

"I told you, I came here from London. That kind of move requires a lot of transition, no?" he asked, stepping up to her and grasping her shoulder gently. "I didn't want to be without a job during this time, for it would reflect poorly on my resume."

He had turned his voice deeper and deeper as he explained his situation to her, hoping to distract her with it.

"Do you feel differently about me now, than when we were at that pizza place?" He frowned as he asked that question, wondering why he would care so much if indeed she were to think him... what?... snobbish and obnoxious for being wealthy?

He WAS indeed wealthy. He was still a prince by his true title.

Also... if she was so suspicious of wealth, how much would she judge him if she learned his true identity? He was known all over Midgard as a wicked, unscrupulous and cruel man, after all.

“Of course I do!” she said, looking around at the luxurious furnishings. “I’m...I’m just...a little overwhelmed...” She touched the wall behind her just a bit to regain her balance.

“Maybe that drink would help?” She smiled softly, really trying to pull herself together. Dave was... amazing . Almost too good to be true...

"Sure," he responded, pulling away and leading her to his spacious, plush sofa. That monstrosity took up nearly half of the living room, and he hadn't used it much during his three month stay here.

From here, the view of the city was fantastic, displayed finely in the floor-to-ceiling windows that occupied the whole western wall of the living room. He loved watching the sunsets from here.

His bedroom was made in a similar fashion, but with east facing floor-to-ceiling windows. All in all, it was a nicely made apartment, by Midgardian standards.

"What would you like? Wine? Vodka cocktail? Beer? I'm myself going for a whiskey."

“Beer sounds great.” Her voice was small as she continued to look around the lavish apartment. So...he was from old money. In London. And this job was just helping him transition to living and working in New York. Ok. Cool.

She wanted to believe him so badly...and so she pushed down her other questions and that gnawing feeling in her gut that told her that there was more to his story.

He handed her a chilled glass of some sort of amber ale, and taking a sip of the cold beverage instantly relaxed her.

“Ahhhhh,” she sighed, settling back on the sofa. “You better be careful. I could get used to this.”

Loki could see that she was still doubting his 'old money' story about his wealth, and he had to praise her sharp mind for it.

Doubt was always healthy... especially when it came to him.

Still, he put the charm on her to keep her distracted. "Ah, then maybe I'd be tempted to spoil you."

He sipped his single malt and kept his eyes on her, which he knew, from experience, unnerved many people. For her benefit, he toned his gaze down so that she'd not feel uncomfortable, but still, made sure that she knew she had his full attention.

"So, tell me more about your family, Gemma. You talked very little about them. Do your parents visit you here? What about your sister?"

The way he looked at her over the rim of his glass sent shivers down her spine...and what did he mean he might be “tempted” to spoil her...was that...could this be more than a one-night stand? She decided not to think about it; better to just appreciate this crazy experience for what it was and not hope for anything more to come of it.

Then he brought up her family. Uuuggghhh...

“Oh, yea. They don’t...they’ve never come out here to visit.” She laughed nervously, rubbing her hand on the back of her neck, under her mousey blond ponytail. “They prefer my hometown...and they don’t understand why I moved here. My sister feels the same - she hasn’t even brought the kids over, even though I’ve invited them. But that’s how it goes sometimes, you know? Stupid perfect older sister...Mom and Dad just love her and her perfect husband and her perfect house that’s just down the block from them and her perfect life. Me, I’m just the weird one. I couldn’t wait to move out. I thought living in New York would be a lot more exciting but...well, I didn’t realize it would be so hard being on my own...”

Holy SHIT why am I SAYING all this? Way to kill the mood, Gem...

Loki couldn't help but relate to her. Younger child, perfect elder sibling, unrelatable family, loneliness...

Even though his life had its own complications, and he had contributed to his problems to some extent.

But really, he was quite surprised that Gemma's family was cold towards her. She wasn't even adopted!

"I must say, I'm very curious to know what kind of family it is that just... ignores their daughter. A daughter who is but a mix of sweetness and kindness," he murmured, putting his now empty glass away. Grasping her hand once again, he shifted closer to her to give her his earnest support. "I can see that you're taking it upon yourself, thinking that there's something wrong with you, but there isn't. You're perfect."

His sudden flattery took her by surprise, and her brain short-circuited a little. THE Dave just said she was... perfect?!

Even with all the red flags and warning bells going off in her head...she wanted him to keep saying nice things about her. It had been so long since she’d tried to flirt or gotten dinner or had drinks with someone...was he just playing with her, or...could he really mean that?

No, there were far too many layers of self-consciousness and doubt for her to accept his words at face value. She was sure he was trying to get into her pants--well, her skirt--but that wasn’t a bad thing. She appreciated what he said anyway.

And she flushed red, smiling shyly. “Stop it,” she giggled. Then she took another sip of her beer. “What about your family, Mr. Moneybags? Why did you move away from London?”

Loki sighed heavily, squeezing her hand as he looked down. Now, the lies would come pouring out of his mouth as usual. Par for the course...

"My parents died a few years ago. Rainy day, slippery road." He glanced up to see if she was going to doubt him again, but so far, she seemed to be listening intently, her beautiful chocolate eyes wide and dilated. "I have no siblings, and the extended family isn't very warm. The aunt I used to have a lovely relationship with had also died a long time ago, due to illness. So basically I was very alone and kind of depressed."

He laughed without humour, then, hoping that she'd buy his story, for the sadness in his eyes was real. He was indeed lonely. Had been for years.

"I knew that I had to do something about it before I just succumbed to it. Moreso, I knew I had more work related opportunities here in the US. So I jumped over the pond, trying to start a new life for myself."

His already frayed conscience screamed at him as he leaned towards her, locking his gaze with her intimately. She knew nothing about his true identity and he was drowning her in his charm, essentially fooling her. She'd hate him for it if she somehow learned the truth.

Oh... but she was so beautiful and pure of heart… he felt an inexplicable pull towards her.

His hand reached up and cupped her cheek.

So warm and soft...

He'd had no lovers in so long...

"I can now say that I'm glad I moved here." He moved in and nuzzled her neck, wondering if she'd pull away and reject him. Reject Dave, that is.

_______________________________________________________________

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]  Ch-1; [NEXT CHAPTER]

Those Bill headcanons were brilliant!! Please do some letters for Dutch too! Is this too many? A,C,D,H,J,M,O he he thank you!

No that’s not too many at all! I am SUCH a Dutch hoe it’s actually disgusting lmao. Tbh, I’ll probably end up doing the whole alphabet for Dutch sometime. Also if y’all wanna request Dutch content or just project your horniness for him @ me I’ll uh, love you forever? 

Aftercare - Dutch knows that things with him can get really intense, so he always makes sure you get all the attention that you need afterwards. He tells you what a good job you did and how good you made him feel as he wraps you in his arms. It’s likely that the two of you will fall asleep like that; pressed together with him uttering praise and ‘I love you’s in your ear. 

Cum - If there’s one thing that Dutch loves, it’s cumming on your face. It drives him wild seeing your pretty, innocent face covered in his filth. He’ll only do it if you ask him to, but it’s such a turn on for him even hearing you ask. He probably won’t help you clean up without you asking him, only because he likes to see you dripping with cum just a little bit too much. 

Dominance - Dutch is normally the dom in bed. Just like in his day to day life, he feels the need to have complete control in the bedroom. But he does sometimes let you take the lead. Dutch is terrible at following rules, so if you want to be entirely in control, you're going to have to tie his hands behind his head. This leads to some frustration and pitiful whining on his part, but it’s well worth it in the end. I imagine you riding him, one hand on your hip, the other on your clit, rubbing yourself furiously. He can’t help but make sly comments about you fucking yourself on him, but you’re honestly too focused on your pleasure to shut him up. When you cum, you make sure to un-straddle Dutch right away, as to make sure he doesn’t finish along with you. You start using your mouth on him, stimulating him as slowly and painfully as you can. He gets frustrated and starts tugging furiously at his bonds, squirming beneath your touch. You put your hands on his hips, pinning his lower body to the mattress. You don’t give him his release until he’s absolutely begging. And when you do, you make sure to go as hard and fast as you can. He writhes around the bed from the stimulation on his already over-sensitized member, and curses as he cums into your mouth. You open your mouth and smile up at him through your lashes, his seed dripping down onto your chin. He laughs shakily, his chest heaving from his breathlessness. ‘D’you think you could untie me now, sweetheart?’ 

Hair - After Bill, Dutch is easily the hairiest guy in camp. He has lots of hair on his upper chest and arms and a fair bit on his back. As for pubes, he’s got a nice little happy trail leading down to a pretty wild bush. He doesn’t shave his body hair, but if his partner is displeased about the pube situation, he might take some scissors and trim up a bit. 

Jack Off - Masturbation isn’t really a big thing for Dutch. If he has any spare time to pleasure himself, he’d really rather just fuck you. If he does get horny when you’re not around, he’ll pump himself slowly at first, trying to think of something that’ll get himself going. When he finds the right memory, all hell breaks loose. He strokes himself faster and faster, eyes shut tightly, trying his best to imagine that it’s your hand around his cock. When he finishes, he opens his eyes and looks down, his hand spilling with seed, wishing he could have spent it on you.

Motivation - Dutch is pretty possessive, so when he’s fucking you, he loves to hear you say that you’re all his. He’ll have you on your hands and knees, asking you things like; Who makes you feel good? Who takes care of you? Who does your pussy belong to? Each time you answer him, he gives you a smack on your ass and tells you what a good girl you are. Another thing that really gets him going is when you ask him to come for you. “Oh you want me to come, do you sweetheart?” he laughs, “Alright then, tell me where.” 

Oral - He sometimes has to be reminded to give you your pleasure, but once he’s down there, he won’t come up until you’ve finished. Dutch is very skilled with his mouth and could get you off within a matter of minutes, but that rarely happens. He would much sooner string you along until you’re calling out his name in a whiny tone, begging for release. 

any way you want me, i’m all yours

mac gargan (from the 2018 marvel’s spider-man game)/original female character frankie

this one is kind of a test run for those 2. an out of context vignette about one of their many reunions and abrupt farewells.

“why is mac so tender in this one” because he loves frankie and because of story-related reasons i’ll be sure to explore in a possible longfic exploring their relationship.

rated e.  7484 words.

It was around four in the morning on a warm, April day when Mac snuck into Frankie’s apartment. Getting inside the building was way more difficult than getting inside that particular flat - but he managed to sneak past random people on the sidewalks and in the hallways, finding his way to cozy little apartment number 812.

Frankie woke up the moment he closed the door behind him, as quietly as humanly possible; he didn’t make a single sound louder than his own, hushed breath.

“Who’s there?” he heard her voice coming from her bedroom; and his heart skipped a beat and a smile bloomed on his face. Frankie - his Frankie, his baby, his love - sounded both sleepy and agitated; an endearing combination. “I’m gonna fuck you up.”

“I sure hope so.” he replied as she shuffled out of the bedroom, wielding a baseball bat. She was wearing a black, fluffy robe and even fluffier slippers; and her hair were a tangled mess. “Fuck me up any way you want, baby. I’m all yours.”

It was around four in the morning on a warm, April day when Mac snuck into Frankie’s apartment. Getting inside the building was way more difficult than getting inside that particular flat - but he managed to sneak past random people on the sidewalks and in the hallways, finding his way to cozy little apartment number 812.

Frankie woke up the moment he closed the door behind him, as quietly as humanly possible; he didn’t make a single sound louder than his own, hushed breath.

“Who’s there?” he heard her voice coming from her bedroom; and his heart skipped a beat and a smile bloomed on his face. Frankie - his Frankie, his baby, his love - sounded both sleepy and agitated; an endearing combination. “I’m gonna fuck you up.”

“I sure hope so.” he replied as she shuffled out of the bedroom, wielding a baseball bat. She was wearing a black, fluffy robe and even fluffier slippers; and her hair were a tangled mess. “Fuck me up any way you want, baby. I’m all yours.”

Frankie scoffed, walking up to him. And just when he was about to pick her up to greet her properly - she swung the bat, hitting the wall next to his right cheek. It was a solid swing - strong enough to nearly bust a hole through the wall. Sudden enough to make him freeze in place.

“Where the fuck have you been?” she finally asked; the bat still rested next to his face, and Frankie’s voice got high-pitched and whiny and so, so vulnerable.

“In jail.” Mac replied, cautiously putting his hand on the bat and pushing it away; Frankie didn’t protest, so he took it out of her - shaking - hands and dropped it on the ground. “Fifty years. No parole.”

“You broke out a month ago.” Frankie said quietly, biting her lip nervously and not looking at him at all. “A month! And… And I was… Waiting…”

She paused; he waited.

“Why didn’t you say something?” she asked finally.

“Because I didn’t want the cops to catch the wind of us.” he replied; God, he thought. She’s gorgeous.

“But you could’ve give me a call. Or text me.” she insisted, gripping his hand instead. “I was worried!”

“You don’t need to worry about me, baby. I just… Needed some time to lead them astray. Make them think I left the city. You know. Same old smoke and mirror vanishing act. Same old me.”

In response Frankie pursed her lips tightly; she turned her head when he leaned down to finally kiss her for the first time in months, and his lips crashed against her temple as she stood there.

“Baby.” Mac said pleadingly; that was not how he imagined their reunion. “Come on, doll. Don’t be like that.”

“Am I a liability to you, Mac?” Frankie asked finally; and he raised his brows. “Because that’s how you’re treating me, tesoro. Like I can’t handle myself. Like I can’t handle you and your fucking bullshit.”

Mac sighed. He then took a step back, straightening his back; fuck, he thought. She’s so short compared to me. She’s so tiny.

(Everything and everyone seemed so fragile when he was in his suit, so easily ruined; his gloves had knife-sharp claws and the exoskeleton running through the suit made him a god.)

He looked down at her in silence, and she had to tilt her head to actually look him in the eye, and in her bright - mesmerizing, magnetic, hauntingly reminiscent of full moon -  eyes he saw something indescribable; something angry, and sad, and loving, and impatient, and disappointed, and anxious.

“You’re not a liability, Frankie.” Mac said, thinking about all those people he had left behind because they weren’t fast enough, strong enough, ruthless enough, cunning enough. “I love you. I care about you. I don’t want you to be a person of interest for the cops. To be constantly watched. Interrogated.”

“I can handle it, Mac. My father works for Hammerhead.” she reminded him. “I worked for Wilson Fisk. My brother worked with you and Rhino. Also - you’re paranoid. I’m not finished.” she added, seeing him open his mouth. “Pull this shit again and we’re done. Also, put me on your visitors list next time they put you in the Raft. Those were the longest six months of my whole fucking life.”

She clenched her fists; hard enough for her golden skin to turn white.

“Understand?” she asked him quietly; she didn’t sound hesitant. She sounded confident, and menacing, and almost impossibly calm.

“Yeah.” he breathed out, trying to force himself to focus on anything but how badly he wanted to kiss her. “I’ll… I’ll get you a new phone, one of those old brick models. No network adapter. I’ll secure it, make it undetectable. You’ll keep it off and turn it on only when I break out. Alright?”

“Alright.” she said gently. “Now… Catch.”

She jumped, wrapping her arms around his neck; he grabbed her and picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him.

He kissed her, and she bit his lip; he could taste her lemongrass-scented toothpaste in her breath - and after months of isolation that small thing he’d normally ignore had an almost embarrassing effect on him. The shiver that ran down his spine, the sudden tightness of his pants, the sound that escaped his lips - that shouldn’t happen after a kiss.

Frankie noticed - of course she did, she was an attentive little mouse - and laughed in his face, even though she wasn’t much better, with her flushed cheeks and shaky breath.

She was still laughing when he threw her onto the nearest chair, and when he kissed her again, bent down, frantically trying to to untie her robe’s belt; she playfully kept pushing his hands away, or catching and holding them, or covering the knot with her hands. Eventually he lost his patience, and grabbed her wrists with his hand; and she grinned with satisfaction, already spreading her legs as he untangled the knot with his other hand.

“Hold still.” he said, taking a step back. “It’s been six months. I want to look at you.”

“Alright.” she replied, rolling her eyes. “But be quick. I’m horny as fuck.”

He didn’t respond, too busy staring at her.

She had visited him in his dreams quite often; nights at the Raft were lonely and long and Mac welcomed her imaginary company, the nonexistent presence of her warm, gold-colored body, her petite hands, her jet black hair. And days at the Raft were not very stimulating; they were harsh and monotonous and repetitive; so he appreciated the invigorating images of her perfectly hand-sized breasts, and raspberry-colored nipples, and full, soft lips, and the pink and warm crevice between her legs.

(Or maybe it was the other way round?)

“You’re killing the mood, Mac.” Frankie said, bringing him back to Earth. “You know what I look like. I hadn’t had a breast job, so quit starin’ and get to fuckin’.”

“Ah, but baby, I hadn’t seen you in half a year. I think I deserve some eyecandy time.” he said, trying to not sound defensive. It’s not like he didn’t want to fuck her - he simply wanted to let his eyes enjoy a little something as well.

Frankie scoffed.

“You’re a sap.�� she said mockingly. “A gentle giant. A big softie.”

“I’m not a sap.” he protested, even though there he was - staring lovingly at his girlfriend instead of fucking her brains out after half a year of separation. “And you, baby, are in for it.”

He took a step towards her, and she grinned; he grabbed her and picked her up and threw her onto the couch; and soon he was kissing her neck and his hands began a hasteful journey across her body; his fingers and his mouth were so hungry and impatient and he felt like he might eat her alive just to satisfy that burning, gnawing, six months old hunger.

(She seemed to also be quite ravenous; she clawed at his back and thrusted her hips and kept pulling him closer, closer, closer.)

“Baby.” he whispered, taking his lips off her neck for a moment; he pushed her legs apart and started to slowly rub her clit with his thumb. “Sing for me.”

Frankie opened her mouth - and let out a long, howling yawn.

“Oh, come on.” Mac said, taking his hand away and sitting up on the couch. “Really, Frankie?”

“It’s five in the morning!” she said defensively, muffling another yawn. “And I went to bed around two a.m. It’s not my fault you decided to show up at four in the morning.”

She got up and shuffled towards her bedroom, leaving Mac behind.

“You can sleep on the couch.” she said, standing with her (beautiful, smooth, golden) back to him; and his eyes fixated on her round, firm ass.

“I was hoping you’d let me sleep with you.” he said; and she looked at him over her shoulder and her expression made his heart drop. She looked at him like he just suggested a week long hard BDSM play session on the first date; had the abrupt separation turned them into strangers?

Suddenly - she laughed.

“I was just joking.” she said, turning around and walking up to him. “Take me to bed, big boy. I missed you.”

In bed she asked him to hold her.

“Hold me.” she said, pushing her back against his chest. “I missed you, Mac. I forgot what it’s like to be in your arms.”

“And I never forgot what it’s like to hold you, baby.” he replied, pulling her even closer; he meant it. He never forgot, and he wasn’t happy about it; it made the lonely nights unbearable. His body remembered what it’s like to hold hers, what it’s like to feel her heartbeat under his fingertips; and her absence was a torture. “Hm. Did you lose weight?”

“Maybe.” she muttered; and he sighed. “Goodnight, tesoro.”

At first he was sure he’s going to simply lay there, and hold her; he wasn’t sleepy, or tired. But the bed was soft, and smelled of her; and it’s been a long while since he had last rested in a comfortable bed. His bed at the Raft was hard; and for the past month he had been hiding in an abandoned warehouse, and could only choose between a cold stone floor, or a very old mattress.

“Just five minutes.” he muttered, closing his eyes. “Just a quick nap.”

***

Frankie woke him up ten hours later.

“Rise and shine, big boy.” she said, straddling his hips. “You hungry?”

His empty stomach gurgled in response.

“Yep.” he said, lifting himself up slightly and leaning on his elbows. “Mmm. You look nice.”

She was wearing a plain, vastly oversized black tshirt that exposed her right shoulder, a pair of jean shorts that accentuated and exposed her beautiful, long legs and a simple, black choker that made him want to tug at it and pull her closer.

“Hell yeah I look nice.” Frankie replied, sounding very pleased with herself. “I look nice in just about everything.”

“That’s true.” he agreed. “I really missed you, Fran.”

“I know.” she said, setting a paper bag down on his stomach. “I got you breakfast. Cheddar and chicken salad sesame bagel from that place down the street. I went shopping.” she added as he bit half the bagel off in a single bite. The bagel was perfectly soft, the sharp cheddar was perfectly salty and the chicken salad was perfectly creamy. It felt like it’s been ages since he last had some decent food; he devoured the bagel in three bites.

“I love you.” he said, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin; she grinned with satisfaction and shuffled slightly, rubbing her bottom against his crotch.

“I sure hope you do.” she said, putting her hand on his belt buckle; his breath quickened and she began toying with it, not taking her eyes off him. “Because if you didn’t… The fact you got hard just from he sitting on you would be pathetic. But, since you love me… It’s actually cute. And kind of hot.”

Mac laughed, desperately trying to not grind against her; he wanted her. He wanted her bad.

“You’re so cute when you’re pretending you’re not horny.” she teased with a cocky grin that made him want to grab her, throw her onto the bed, shove a hand down her shorts, just to make her writhe and squirm, to make her his.

He grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her towards him; and just as he was about to kiss her - she put her index finger on his lips.

“A-a-a.” she said mockingly. “Not yet.”

“But why?” he asked mournfully as she got off him. “We hadn’t seen each other in half a year. We hadn’t fucked in half a year.”

“You look like a hobo, Mac. And kind of smell like one too.” she said, rolling her eyes; and Mac scoffed, knowing she’s right. “Where have you been hiding, in a dumpster?”

“An abandoned waterside warehouse. Years ago I turned a basement there into an emergency shelter. It’s… Habitable.”

(It had running water that was an icy cold slow dribble; a place to sleep, which was just a mattress held together with tape; a tiny pantry filled with freeze-dried and canned food; and that was it. No electricity, absolutely no luxuries, cold and kind of damp and very very dark; the room looked like a shithole, hundred times worse than Mac’s cell at the Raft - but in that basement he was free.)

“Take a shower, Mac. I’ll order us some Chinese.” she said, walking out of the room. “And… Check the bathroom closet. I keep some clothes and other stuff for you there.”

This was, quite possibly, the longest shower he ever took. He missed warm water, and shower gels that smell nice, and blissful solitude; the water at the Raft was lukewarm at best, and the shower gels had no smell, and every shower meant being accompanied by nine other men.

After showering he felt like a new man; he left the bathroom wearing only a pair of sweatpants, completely ignoring each and every shirt in the closet - Frankie always appreciated the view, claiming he looks “like a sexy brickhouse”.

(He was muscular, in a slightly bulky way; he also had a lot of scars on his back and his shoulders.)

She didn’t say anything seeing him enter her living room; but her cheeks turned dark and she bit her lip, and he remembered the first time she saw him like this.

(Spider-Man nearly got him, and Mac was bleeding and hurt; and Frankie saved him. She took him home, and got some Maggia doc to patch him up; and he was bloodied, battered and shirtless and she didn’t even try to pretend she’s not into him.)

“I’m seeing some new scars.” she said, seeing him. “Prison fights?”

“Prison fights, not cooperating with the cops, and so on.” he said with a shrug. “Raft is not at all what S.H.I.E.L.D says it is. It’s brutal.”

“I see.” she said softly. “Then I guess it’s good you broke out.”

They watched a movie; Mac didn’t register the title, or the plot. He was too busy focusing on Frankie, who sat next to him and loudly commented on the movie between bites of her rice noodles and beef stir-fry; he watched her and listened to her - and wanted to pull her closer, get rid of her clothes and burrow his face between her legs.

The mere thought of her naked body - her perfect breasts, and sensitive nipples, her long legs, her wet flower - got him painfully hard again.

Frankie, naturally, noticed.

“Oh my god.” she said, sounding very amused. “Did you just get a boner when watching The Dark Knight?”

“No, I got a boner from thinking about you.” Mac replied, trying to save the last shreds of his dignity. “You look… Nice.”

“So do you, baby.” she replied; and his heart - his hardened, cold, dead heart of a criminal, a sadist, a monster - fluttered hearing that. “So… What’s the plan?”

“I’ll reach out to my contacts, see if someone has a job for me.” he said with a sigh. “They confiscated my suit and I can’t afford to pay Black Cat to steal it. And I need a lab. And some supplies.”

“That’s nice and all, but I meant the plan for tonight.” Frankie said, rolling her eyes. “You know. It’s been six months. I say… Let’s make tonight special.”

She turned around to face him and put her hand on his chest and began to absentmindedly tap at his skin with her fingertips.

“Mmm. Special… How, exactly?” he asked, trying to focus. “Every moment spent with you is special, baby.”

“Cheesy.” she said, rolling her eyes. “I was thinking… A candle-lit dinner, some wine… You know. Like normal people do.”

“Only if we do this here.” he said. “I’d rather… Not show my mug at a fancy restaurant. People might scream. Spider-Man might show up.”

“You worry too much, big guy.” she said, taking his face into her - tiny tiny tiny - hands. “We’re not going out. We’re staying in.” she added, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll cook dinner, and you… You just relax. You deserve it.”

“Mmm. Yeah. After all, I’m a hard-working, honest man who would never hurt a fly.” he said jokingly; Frankie rolled her eyes, but smiled afterwards, and that sight made him smile sheepishly as well.

***

He wanted to help Frankie in the kitchen, he really did.

“Hey.” he said, walking up to her and putting his hands on her waist. “Need a hand?”

“I’m good.” she replied, peeling a carrot. “Get out.”

“You sure?” he asked, not budging. “I have two hands and nothing to do… And you smell really nice.”

In response she swatted his hands away and waved her knife at him; so he backed out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

On his way out he tripped over the bag he had brought with him; it made a loud, metallic clank which reminded him of an idea he had earlier.

“Do you have a drill?” he asked, walking back into the kitchen.

“Why do you need a drill?” Frankie asked, furrowing her brows. “Did you break something?”

“It’s a surprise.” he said. “Do you have one or not?”

“It should be in the hallway cabinet.” she said, resuming doing whatever she was doing. “Have… Fun drilling holes, I guess.”

About one hour later his magnum opus was finished and two pulleys had been securely mounted to the ceiling of Frankie’s bedroom.

“Cool.” Frankie said, entering the bedroom. “So… Why did you do that?”

“It’s a surprise.” he said evasively, checking the hooks one last time. “Alright, those shouldn’t fall off.”

“I’m going to take a shower.” Frankie announced; her voice suddenly got just a bit shaky and Mac looked over his shoulder in surprise. “Care to join me?”

“Sure.” he replied, following her. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?” she responded quickly; too quickly.

“Frankie…”

“Let’s just say I’m also preparing a surprise for you.” she replied with a sigh, entering the bathroom; he tried to follow - but she stopped him. “A-a-a! You can come in once you hear the water’s running.”

“But I like watching you undress.” he said as she closed the door. Naturally he meant it; but to be fair - he liked watching Frankie do absolutely anything. She was beautiful, and her body was absolutely gorgeous, and there was particular, almost boyish charm to the way she moved and talked and smiled; accompanied by the fact she seemed to thoroughly enjoy having his full, undivided attention - it turned her every action into a one of a kind private show.

“I know.” she said; he could hear her opening and closing the closet where she stored his clothes. A few moments later he heard her open and close the cabin; and finally - he heard the water running.

“You can come in.” she said as he opened the door. “Mmm. You seem… Impatient.”

“No, really?” he asked; he was already naked, having undressed in the hallway, waiting for her sign. “What gave it away?”

“It was just a wild guess.” she said as he squeezed into the cabin. “God, Mac. You’re hard.”

“Yeah.” he agreed breathlessly as she brushed his length with her fingertips. “What, are you going to… Help me out?”

“Nah.” she replied, taking her hand away; he groaned, resting his forehead against the slippery wall above her left shoulder. “Not yet, anyway. But… Maybe I’ll blow you after dinner.”

The fact she said it, and the way she said it - lightly, playfully, quietly - almost sent him over the edge.

She noticed, of course she did - and she laughed as he kissed her neck desperately, his hands shaking from this burning hunger. This hunger had been with him for months; at the Raft there was absolutely no privacy - and while masturbation wasn’t forbidden, someone was always watching; and Mac found that thought repulsive. It didn’t make the hunger go away - but it made him keep his hands away from its core.

Even after escaping he didn’t do anything about it - and suddenly he was right next to the only cure for his condition, their bodies pressed together, rubbing against each other, her voice promising him the sweetest of releases in that bright, cocky tone of hers. It was unbearable - and he savored every second.

“Say it again.” he pleaded; and Frankie smiled with satisfaction, putting her soapy hands on his ribs.

“Maybe I’ll blow you after dinner.” she hummed, slowly sliding her hands across and down his stomach. “Maybe I’ll make you sit down, and maybe I’ll kneel before you… And maybe, just maybe, I’ll suck you. Maybe I’ll do it so slowly it’ll drive you mad. But hey - maybe.”

“You’re unbearable, Frankie.”

“I know. And that, big boy, is why you love me.”

“True.” he agreed breathlessly. “I love you, Frankie. You’re what kept me from going insane at the Raft.”

“You’re not the only one who was lonely, Mac.” she responded quietly; so quietly it was barely audible over the sound of running water. “I waited for you, and I’ll wait for you again… But I don’t want to wait. But I will. I know I will. I’ll always wait for you, baby.”

“And I will always come back to you, Frankie.” he assured her; in response she burrowed her face in his skin and cried and sobs shook her body as she gripped his shoulders tightly with her hands.

“How could you?!” she wailed desperately. “I was so worried, Mac, it’s been a month! I thought you died, o-or got bored of me and found yourself another idiot willing to deal with your f-fucking bullshit!”

She punched him in the chest; he only felt it a little bit. He didn’t say anything, and she didn’t land another punch on him; he kissed her the moment she turned the water off.

“I love you.” she whispered. “I love you so much it hurts. You should get dressed.” she added in a normal tone. “And so should I, actually.”

It took Mac about ten minutes to get dressed - and it took Frankie about thirty. For some reason, she kept one of his old suits in her closet; Hammerhead made all his men follow a strict dress code. Wearing a suit again, after months of pretending he had never worked with Hammerhead felt weird - but also good.

He ditched the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt; he kept the tie though.

Finally she left the bathroom - and she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Her simple, black dress exposed her shoulders and back, while hiding everything else from his prying eyes; her high heels made her legs look almost impossibly long; and her makeup drew attention to her beautiful, moonlight-colored eyes and heart-shaped lips.

“New perfume?” he asked, sniffing the air next to her neck quietly. “Hmm. Is that… Cinnamon?”

“And some other things. But mostly cinnamon.” she said as he took her hand. “Oh, you look good.”

He kissed her hand, looking her in the eye; she laughed and took her hand away, not letting him pull the old trail of kisses trick.

After five months of practically tasteless, unseasoned, perfectly bland prison meals and a month of canned mush - dinner made by Frankie smelled and looked and tasted like a Michelin Star-grade delicacies.

It was not, by any means, bad by itself - everything was perfectly fine. After all, everyone sometimes puts too much parmesan shavings in a salad, glazes carrots with way too much honey, overcooks their steaks or forgets to add salt and pepper to mashed potatoes; cooking mistakes happen to everyone. Sometimes they all happen at once, to a single person.

None of the dishes was perfect - but they all tasted delicious. And, most importantly - every single dish was made with love.

“Dessert?” Frankie asked, seeing him put down his fork. “I… Didn’t mess dessert up. Mostly because I didn’t make it.”

“You didn’t mess anything up, baby.” he said, watching her. “Also… Nope. Not yet.”

“Alright.” she said, picking his empty plate up. “In that case… I’m gonna take those to the kitchen. Where I’m going to stand, all alone and helpless. It would be a shame if someone were to sneak into the kitchen and take me to bedroom.”

“That would be awful.” he agreed, already getting up from his chair.

He sneaked up to her, stood behind her for a moment, listening to her breath - and picked her up and carried her to bedroom. She didn’t struggle; but she did squirm an awful lot.

“What’s under the dress, Frankie?” he asked, trying to lift up her skirt and take a peek; but Frankie kept pushing the fabric down, so Mac turned her around and held her wrists behind her head as he unzipped her dress with his other hand.

“Do you like it?” she asked the moment her dress slipped off her and formed a small, black puddle around her feet.

“Yes, yes, yes and yes.” he replied, looking at her lack of bra, simple, white, lace panties, a matching garter belt with stockings and a - admittedly a bit sloppy - knotted web of rope decorating her stomach and chest and forming a tight crotch rope with a knot at the critical spot. “Mmm. When did you pick up kinbaku?”

“About a month after they caught you. I was feeling miserable and lonely, and I had this piece of rope in my closet and… Well. This happened.” she said, turning around in place. “I needed something to do. Something to keep me busy. Something to… Make me feel a bit less lonely. Do you like it?”

“I love it.” he said, even though his heart was heavy, burdened by her loneliness. “Wait. When did you put it on?”

“A few hours ago.” she said, folding her hands behind her back. “I’m a present wrapped in rope… A present that’s dying to be unpacked.”

She winked at him; he squinted, pretending to be thinking.

Frankie seemed to be very eager; and so was him, naturally. Just as he was opening his mouth to tell her to turn around so he can untie the knot holding everything in place - he remembered her teasing.

“I shall unpack my present now.” he announced. “And then I’m going to have a lot of fun with it.”

“Great!” she said, jumping in place impatiently. “Wait. You’re going to have fun? What about me?”

“You, my baby, will also have fun.” he said, taking an additional piece of rope from his bag. “And if not… Sucks to be you, I guess.”

He tied her hands behind her back using the same piece of rope she used; he made sure to bend her elbows first, to make it impossible for her to get her hands in front of her, like she did a few times before. Afterwards he covered her eyes with a blindfold - and took a moment to appreciate the view.

(She looked gorgeous; and he could tell she’s trying to wiggle out of her bondage.)

“Get down on your knees, baby.” he said, pulling some more rope out of his bag. “And give me five minutes.”

He quickly set up the main attraction of the night - all while Frankie kept complaining about not wanting to wait any longer.

“Alright.” he said, crouching in front of her and taking her blindfold off. “Time to shut you up for a bit.”

“It’d take Spider-Man to make me shut up, big boy.” she replied, looking around. “So… What’s all that?”

“A torture device.” he replied; Frankie raised her eyebrows skeptically and rolled her eyes. “What?”

“This doesn’t sound convincing.” she said with a - somewhat restrained - shrug. “Is that how you tortured people for Hammerhead? With some rope and a magic wand?”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” he asked, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. “It’s… We’re… We’re on a date right now. Maybe let’s not talk about my old gig as a torturer.” he said pleadingly. “Tomorrow morning - sure. I’ll gladly tell you my secrets. Tonight though… I’d rather talk about literally anything else.”

“Anything? Alright.” Frankie said with a wicked spark in her eye. “Let’s talk politics. Who has your vote? Personally I’m torn-”

He covered her mouth with his hand.

“You’re insufferable.” he informed her. “Don’t get me wrong, baby, I love you. But you’re insufferable. And I think it’s high time someone taught you a lesson in silence… And humility.”

Frankie cocked her head; his hand followed, keeping her silent.

“See this?” he asked, picking her beloved Hitachi off the floor; Frankie nodded vigorously.

Attached to the vibrator was a long piece of rope; it went up - towards the ceiling - where it had been led through the pulleys he had mounted earlier and back down, where its end dangled just a bit in front of and above kneeling Frankie. If his calculations were correct - and he knew they were - his invention should work perfectly under one, simple condition.

“Spread your legs, baby. No, no, no questions yet. Just spread them.”

Clumsily Frankie spread her legs; and Mac grinned with satisfaction.

“Good girl.” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “See this rope?”

Frankie nodded.

“Long story short… It’s a simple mechanism.” he said, pulling the rope. “If the rope is held like this… The wand will be pressed to you. If the rope is let loose…”

He let go of the rope, letting the vibrator fall onto the floor.

“Open your mouth.” he said, taking his hand away; Frankie opened her mouth, staring at him. “Good. Now, bite the rope… And don’t let go of it.”

“I won’t.” she mumbled without letting go of the rope. “It’s not on.”

“I know.” he said, getting up from the floor. “Patience.”

She kept mumbling as he walked up to his bag and fished out the last part of the attraction - a simple-looking black box made out of metal, with a black knob at the top, a long cable ending with a standard American electric plug coming out of one side and a standard outlet mounted on the other side.

“What’s that?” Frankie mumbled as he plugged the box into the nearest power outlet; the small diode next to the knob lit up in green.

Mac sat down in a chair right in front of Frankie, still holding the mystery box. Without a word he picked up the cable of her Hitachi - and plugged it into the box. He then turned the knob; the vibrator sprung to life and began to buzz against Frankie’s clit.

“W-why not just plug it directly?” she muttered; her cheeks were quickly turning darker and her breath got shaky and he could see her nipples are getting hard as she squirmed in her bonds, getting closer to the edge.

“Because it wouldn’t be half as much fun.” he said, turning the knob again; the vibrator turned off and Frankie let out a long, low growl. “Frustrated already? Baby, baby, this is only a beginning.”

He always liked being in control; and he always liked making people miserable. Usually he accomplished it through less-than-pleasant means; but Frankie was different. Whenever he was with her, his usual, harmful, pain-inducing habits and methods went away; he loved her. Harming her - causing her pain, or even making her sad - was out of the question; but he liked taking control. He liked teasing her, making her desperate, making her beg - and she seemed to enjoy it as well.

“You dick.” she muttered as he grinned at her. “You piece of shit. Turn it on!” she demanded. “Turn it on!”

“Alright.” he said, turning the vibrator back on. “You really look gorgeous tonight, baby.” he added, watching her. “Especially… Now.”

He tormented her for a long while, turning the vibrator on and off, never leaving it on for long enough for her to come. He knew what it looks and sounds like when she’s about to come, he knew it well - and the six months of separation didn’t make him forget it. He knew her sighs, and trembling legs, and sudden twitching - and he used it all to keep her on the edge.

“Do you like it, baby?” he asked; Frankie muttered something in response. For the past thirty minutes she had been kneeling with her neck bent; the lower her head was, the firmer the wand was pressing against her.

“Fuck you, Mac.” she muttered in response; but she didn’t let go of the rope. “Hhhh… FUCK!” she groaned as he turned the wand off again. “FUCK!”

“Don’t yell, baby. Your neighbors might not like it.” he said, turning the wand on. “And they might call the cops. And the cops might come here… And see you tied up and accompanied by a wanted criminal. Do you want me to get arrested, baby?”

“No!” she exclaimed loud and clear; she let go of the rope and the wand fell onto the floor, letting out a loud buzz that was both piercing and dull.

Mac laughed, turning the wand off.

“FUCK!” Frankie screamed. “GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

“Language, baby.” he said, getting up from the chair; Frankie kept trying to catch the rope with her teeth again - but she didn’t get up from the floor. “Aww, just look at you. So frustrated.”

“Don’t be a dick.” she pleaded as he walked up to her and crouched down in front of her, setting the box on the floor. “Come on, Mac. Please?”

“Please what, baby?” he asked, brushing her chin with his thumb. “You know I can’t read minds.”

Frankie pursed her lips and looked away; Mac chuckled and leaned in and kissed her deeply, turning the vibrator back on with his other hand.

“Just a bit more.” he whispered into her lips, pressing the wand against her. “Be a good girl and don’t scream.”

He reached down between her legs and pulled her - soaked, now that’s flattering - panties to the side before pressing the wand firmly against her wet, pulsing center.

He kissed her again; she groaned and moaned and whined into his lips and almost screamed when he turned the wand off for the last time.

“Mac.” she pleaded desperately. “Come on. Please? Please?”

She gave him her best kicked puppy impression, batting her lashes at him and pouting; he pinched her left nipple lightly, deciding he’s definitely going to keep her in this state just a bit longer.

“No.” he replied, getting up from the floor.

“I’m flipping you off right now.” she informed him. “And I know you can’t see it, because my hands are tied, but I’m flipping you off.”

“Uh-uh.” he replied, unzipping his pants. “Say aaaaa.”

Admittedly - getting one’s dick out of one’s pants is kind of difficult, when said person already has a boner. Usually it didn’t take Mac half as much time to accomplish that feat - that night, however, he found himself struggling.

His hands were practically shaking - and Frankie noticed. Of course she did.

“Ha!” she said, sounding more than mildly amused. “Holy fuck. What’s the problem, Mac? Did you forget how to do it?”

“Quiet.” he replied, trying to sound commanding, rather than pathetic and whiny; and Frankie laughed.

“What’s the problem, Mac?” she asked mockingly; and he gulped quietly, trying to hide the fact her tone is turning him on even more. “Need a hand?”

“I’m not untying you.” he replied, finally winning the battle with his pants and underwear. “Open your mouth, baby.”

She tried to suck him off slowly; she tried to tease him and to hold him on edge. She did her best to torment him, just a bit; it wasn’t her fault he didn’t last.

He tried to hold it - but to no avail. Her soft lips, her teasing tongue - it was too much.

He came in her mouth after few moments; with a loud, desperate, ashamed groan.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mac.” Frankie said after unceremoniously spitting everything out. “What was that?”

“Five months of celibate.” he said defensively. “Plus a month of living in a dumpster.”

“Holy shit.” she said, cocking her head slightly. “So you hadn’t… You hadn’t came in half a year?”

“Well, yeah.” he said with a sigh. “There’s no privacy at the Raft. We’re being watched at all times. Kinda kills the mood for me.”

“And wasn’t there anyone willing to… Help you out?” she asked hesitantly; Mac furrowed his brows.

“Women are in a separate block.” he said finally. “And I’m not… I’m not into men, Frankie. What about you, baby?” he asked, desperate for a change of topic. “Did you wait?”

(Were you faithful?)

“No.” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry though. I hadn’t cheated on you, I only… Masturbated. A lot. But I stopped when I heard you broke out.” she added. “And so I waited. For a month.”

“A month.” he repeated mockingly. “A whole month! What a colossal sacrifice. How noble of you.”

(she waited she waited she waited she waited)

“Just admit you’re jealous.” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Because you are jealous. Right, big boy?”

“Maybe a little bit.” he admitted, helping her stand up. “And you’re being obnoxious. I think you should suffer just a bit more.”

“You’re lucky I’m tied up.” she said as he sat her down at the edge of the bed. “You wouldn’t be so cocky if my hands were free.”

“Look at yourself, trying to be menacing.” he said mockingly, looking down at her petite body, her soft skin, her huge eyes. “Alright though, I’ll bite. What would happen if your hands were free?”

He unhooked her left stocking and pulled her panties off her leg.

“You’d be the one begging.” she shot back as he pushed her legs apart. “And I wouldn’t even have to tie you up. I know you wouldn’t dare to force me to do anything.” she finished with a smug smile.

“That’s true.” he admitted. “So I guess it’s good you’re still tied up.”

He kissed the inside of her right thigh, not breaking the eye contact; she bit her lip in excited anticipation.

From his sitting position he could very clearly see and smell her arousal; it was a one of a kind scent, deep and impossible to describe and almost intoxicating.

“Enjoying the view?” she asked, squirming slightly; Mac grinned.

“Yeah.” he said; and he truly, deeply meant it. Everything about Frankie was beautiful and soft; but her soft, smooth flower always left him mesmerized. And how sensitive it was! A simple stroke of his fingertip was enough to make her gasp quietly. He had always marveled at her sensitivity - it made turning her into a quivering, gasping mess so, so easy.

All it took was a few minutes of slow, meticulous teasing to make her stomp against the ground in frustration.

His tongue and lips danced all across her center, and his fingers slowly moved in and out of her; she was soft and sweet under his touch, even if she kept calling him names in that trembling, high-pitched voice he loved so dearly.

“You dick!” she exclaimed as he dragged his tongue across her clit slowly, too slowly. “You absolute, complete-”

She let out a whiny moan as he reached up with both his hands and pinched and twisted her nipples lightly.

“M-Mac.” she said pleadingly. “Come on. Don’t be a dick. Don’t leave a girl hangin’.”

“But I’m not leaving you hangin’, baby.” he said, switching his tongue for his thumb and massaging her clit lightly. “I’m keeping you this way.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t keep me like this forever.” she said; her breathy voice was breaking and she kept making short pauses. “Also I think my hands are asleep.”

“Sucks to be you.” he said with a shrug. “You know, I consider myself bit of an artist. Do you know what’s every artist’s motto?”

“What’s every artist’s motto?” she asked, sounding resigned.

“Can’t rush art.” Mac replied, burrowing his face between her legs again.

This time - he let her come.

It was a long one; long and loud and ecstatic. She arched her back, and practically screamed out in pleasure; and Mac laughed, not even trying to keep her quiet.

“Is that what you wanted, baby?” he asked, sitting next to her; Frankie nodded, visibly out of breath.

“Yeah.” she said finally. “Mac…”

“Yeah?”

“Untie me. And bring me some Red Bull from the fridge. I’m far from done.”

“So am I, baby.” he said, untying the knots; Frankie stretched immediately and plopped down onto her back. “I’ve missed you for six months. Tonight’s gonna be very long.”

“Just the way I like it.” she replied as he got up. “A long, sleepless night… And just the two of us.”

“With luck this won’t be our last night like this.” he said, handing her the ice-cold can; she pressed it to her forehead, between her breasts and to the back of her neck before finally cracking it open and immediately spilling some of the drink all over herself. “Mmm. Need a hand?”

“Yeah.” Frankie breathed out after chugging rest of her drink out of the can and throwing said can away. “Get it off me, big guy.”

He kissed the overly sweet drink off her that night; and he kept kissing her even once her skin was clean. He pulled her into his lap, and she practically ripped his shirt off him; and her hands wandering across his skin and his scars felt infinitely soft and gentle, and so did her nails piercing his skin. It felt like the gentlest, most heart-wrenching, bone-rotting poison; and by gods - he craved that poison, that tenderness that came with it, that peace of mind as their bodies crashed against each other and his teeth found her neck and her nails found his back and she tilted her head back and cried his name out.

“Shhhh.” he muttered, still thrusting his hips. “Shhhhh.”

“Make me shut up.” she responded, wrapping her legs around him.

He didn’t make her shut up; why would he? He loved her voice. The mere memory of it kept him sane at the Raft.

They were both covered in sweat and bitemarks and scratchmarks when they were done; Mac’s back looked worse than it looked after his last fight with Spider-Man, and Frankie’s neck looked like she had annoyed Rhino one too many times - but none of it mattered.

“Baby, baby.” Mac breathed out, pulling her closer. “Aren’t you tired of living like this, baby?”

“Let’s run away together.” she replied, resting her cheek on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

“But what if they find us?”

“We’ll just keep running.”

Absentmindedly Mac brushed her bangs off her face.

“Goodnight, baby.” he said; the sun was high up in the sky. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

They captured him one month later; his first night back at the Raft was sleepless.

“We’ll just keep running.” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall, remembering Frankie’s soft body next to his. “And we’ll never stop.”

In another part of Manhattan Frankie sat in her bed, her legs crossed, her head resting against the wall, her eyes closed.

“We’ll just keep running.” she whispered to herself. “And we’ll never stop.”

Mac’s scorpion armor gathered dust in the secluded warehouse; and his pillow in her bed gathered her tears as she pretended she’s not crying herself to sleep.

“Until next time.” they both whispered under their breaths.

Fin.

Height Difference - Part 3

Have been busy with job and class, another crazy week passed soon :)

Note: Featuring Madman Fulton. First person POV, OFC from non-wrestling background. New oc is out and he is a good-looking asshole :) This is a work of fan fiction using characters from wrestling, I do not claim any ownership over them.

oc: Birdie (some doodles)

Tagging: @thecristsandcallihanmadness @monstersmaid @morie-leigh

Part Three “what if he loses you”

Trying new things would help people to know more about themselves, for example, this morning - the first morning of our “cohabiting experiment” - I just learned that I actually hit Fulton in sleep.

“And it’s not only the hit, you also kicked me. I woke up once around 5 am.” Fulton added more information. “The good thing is, you behaved after tucking yourself into my arms.”

Now I had the answer for why I woke up in Fulton’s arms and he looked like just had a battle.

“Sorry, I didn’t know that before. Did I hurt you?” I asked, rubbing his hand.

He chuckled, “with your strength? Of course. You will definitely defeat me in the ring.”

An odd idea popped up - it’s probably because I had watched one wrestling match and was motivated - I might be able to fight him for real.

This was also a naive idea, Fulton tried hard not to laugh at it and discourage me, although I still could see the grin he hid. He announced in joking tone, “if you lift me up for even half inch, you win.”

“I’m taking it seriously.”

“I know.” He opened his arms to me, grinning, “c’mon Birdie.”

The rule was simple. I took a deep breath, grabbed his waist and lifted him up - or tried to lift him up because he was not moving AT ALL, so I did another attempt but still failed. Wondering how this was possible, I heard Fulton’s voice, “wanna take a break?” based on the cheerfulness in the tone, he was holding back laughter.

“It’s warm-up.” I explained indignantly, making myself sound tough.

“Alright, alright.” Fulton snickered, “take your time.”

In a match or challenge related to strength, longer it took, less chance to win because the strength would come to exhaustion eventually, hence my third attempt was much worse and I couldn’t help gasping. I knew Fulton was built and strong, but I didn’t expect him to be this... heavy. This man was a brick wall, if I ever accidentally knocked against him, I would be dizzy for a while.

“Are you ok?” asked Fulton.

Managed to catch breath, I found myself the worst excuse, “I’m... hungry. You know, I have no strength when I’m hungry.”

Fulton nodded, pretending to believe my words.

I gave up, “I can’t do this. I was being silly to think that I can fight you.”

“Let me see...” he check the clock, “Five minutes, good job.”

“Take that smirk back.” I elbowed him gently.

Fulton grimaced and acted like he got hurt from my “attack”.

Rolled my eyes at him, I asked, “are you still taking me to your match tonight?”

“Of course, but this time you don’t need to make script about what to say to my friends.”

I guess he would not let go of any silly thing I did. He thought those things were “cute”. Like the time I freaked out on his Jason costume on Halloween and screamed “don’t kill me”, he still brought it up. It didn’t annoy me though, probably because of the affectionate way he used.

 When I arrived locker room with Fulton, the ambience was uneasy, the Crist brothers and Sami looked anxious, I had never seen them behave in such way, something serious happened.

I looked up at Fulton, who responded with the same confused expression. Noticed our appearance, Jake waved at us first, then Dave and Sami came to us.

“Do you know that your opponent is replaced?” asked Sami.

Clearly Fulton was not informed in advance, “whom I’ll be facing then?”

“The new guy just joined 3 weeks ago, we don’t know much about him.” Dave shrugged, “I don’t remember his name.”

Jake let out a sigh, “How can you forget one simple name... his name is Vasiliy. ”

The name brought Fulton on the alert. Subconsciously, I grasped Fulton’s hand more tightly. I did this when I was on nerve and I found myself doing this more often since dating Fulton, mainly because I had panic every time he had match. “Is he difficult to deal with?” I asked, praying that Vasiliy guy was just a regular wrestler.

Sami snapped in detestation, “he is plague.”

If the Death Machine himself commented a person so negatively, then this person was a real trouble.

“Sami is right.” Jake frowned and turned to me, “although it’s highly unlikely, if you ever run into that guy, leave immediately.”

Another Crist nodded, “something is wrong with him.”

I froze at their words. There was one moment that I wanted to ask Fulton not to go, but I couldn’t, it’s his match and I needed be supportive. I took a deep breath, said - more like to comfort myself, “Fulton will win easily, I have faith in him.”

 I was very wrong.

When Vasiliy showed up, I had goosebumps. He wore a plain mask with antlers, both hands were covered by bandage, and he was holding barbed wires. The audience had two contrasting reactions on his entrance, some cheered him while the others hooted in disapproval, but one thing was for sure, the world was almost when he took off the mask. It’s not exaggerated to say, Vasiliy had the most angelic face I had ever seen.

However, his moves were far from “angelic”. He hit Fulton right on belly several time with barbed wires twined around his hand, and then his face. I almost screamed in shock. Since I was close to the ring, the excitement on Vasiliy’s face was clear enough to make me sick.

“We shouldn’t let the fun end too soon, shall we?” the man chuckled, dumping one of the boxes which were set in the ring for their match. It’s a box of Lego blocks.

Fulton struggled to get up, but one foot stomped on his back maliciously. Grabbed a full hand of blocks, Vasiliy gave a harmless smile, then he forced Fulton to open his mouth, stuffed the blocks in and smashed his face to the ground.

My stomach twitched in agony. I knew wrestling match could be violent and wrestlers were trained to limit the hurt to opponents, but I could tell that Vasiliy’s doing was on purpose. He wanted hurt his opponent in the most painful way.

Although Fulton gained the upper hand later on and won the match, the prince was high, he almost collapsed due to multiple wounds and exhaustion. It hurt me to see him in such terrible shape, so I left auditorium and found my way to the backstage, all I wanted was to return to the locker room and hug my dreadlock bear.

But I ran into someone I shouldn’t. The black-haired man whom Sami referred as “plague” blocked my way, smiling innocently. The aura of him was like poisonous mist, whirling and tangling

“Vasiliy...”

I took one step back. The Crist brothers cautioned me against getting involved with him, plus what he did in the ring, he was the last person I wanna see now.

“My honor to be remembered by you.”

“It’s a... nice match” I said, against my will.

“I can imagine how much you loved to witness Fulton’s victory.” he giggled. “But I did have fun in making him bleed.”

The memory of him stuffing Lego blocks in Fulton’s mouth and smashing his face disgusted me. I wasn’t sure how this match went into such way, but that scene made my stomach twitched in agony. And now he said making Fulton bleed was “fun” with no regret? Was the personality and behavior he showed in the ring actually a reflection of himself in life?

I forced myself to be polite, “it’s late, I have to go...”

“To find your boyfriend?” he tipped his head a little, in the most harmless way I could imagine, but somehow I was alarmed. “Although joining this brand happened only weeks ago, I consider myself to be informed. I know Fulton loves you dearly. I’m quite curious: what if he loses you?”

I saw the excitement on his face, his smile twisted. He was serious.

Vasiliy’s eyes locked on me, “when I was seven, mother bought me a parakeet. She was beautiful and docile, I cherished her with my heart, but a stray cat killed it. Beautiful things never last long, do they?”

In the next moment, his hands were on my neck, I heard his sweet but malicious voice, “how adorable you are, I wonder what your scream sounds like.”

The strength pressed on was squeezing air out of me, I struggled, the suffering from suffocation and instinct for survival made me fight back for the slenderest hope, even though what I could do was nothing comparing his power.

“Scream, lil’ bird,” Vasiliy sneered, “or you prefer to suffer?”

Tears welled up from fear, it might be easier if I just screamed - he might let me go - but I could not let him win.

I attempted to get out of him by kicking and smacking, although I got him couple times, those attacks didn’t help me but instead stimulated his desire for destruction.

When I was about to give up, I heard Fulton’s furious roar, “you fucking leave her alone!”

The pressure on my neck was released, I was pulled into a firm embrace. Fulton had one arm locked me tightly, another arm was in defence posture. Based on how messed up Vasiliy looked, he already got punch on face from the mad dreadlock bear.

Stroking where Fulton hit, Vasiliy chuckled, “you’re almost late to save her. I was about to make her scream but she’s a tough one.”

Fulton gnashed, almost rushed out to give him another good punch, “you touch her again and I will break your fucking face, you hear me?!”

“‘Stupidity is also a gift of God, but one mustn’t misuse it’, you never know how naive you are, but it’s fine. We will meet again and have better game to play.” the angelic-looking man waved goodbye at me.

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you.” Fulton checked on me, “what else did he do?”

“Nothing besides strangling me.”

Unbuttoned my collar, Fulton’s face clouded over with anger. I was nervous, “what’s wrong?”

“You should see it by yourself.”

In the phone camera, I saw faint hand print on my neck.

“I’m gonna kill that scum...”

“He was serious about hurting me, but why? I didn’t even know him.”

“Vasiliy was new in the brand but he had feud with Sami in another brand, and it’s not only in rings. We act like crazy and bad dudes in the ring, but he is different. His personality in real life is what he shows in the ring.” Fulton wiped away my tears and patted my back, I saw how scared he was. He thought he would lose me.

“So he attacked me because I hang out with oVe?”

He nodded, whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong. And don’t think I’m gonna keep distance from you guys, because I like your friends and I will learn to protect myself. If Vasiliy ever does stupid thing again, I’ll kick him between legs hard.”

Chuckled, the dreadlock bear stroked my cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Yet I didn’t realize Vasiliy would become the most horrifying nightmare.

Connor|RK800 x Reader: Ocularity Ch. 8

Word count: 2588 Warnings/Categories: Rating up to explicit, romance, friendship, fluff, light angst, bad language, uncle Hank Notes: Right now it’s hard to find time to write, but I’m getting there, slowly but surely with each chapter.

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August 15th 11:54 AM

The anatomy of androids is divided into five categories: Body structure, muscle systems, sensory systems, power source, which is Thirium 310 for all current models in production, and the central computing unit, for which CyberLife has coined the term “the mind palace”.

External testing of the body structure is done mostly empirically by inspecting the android’s structure. For instance, the seams need to be correctly welded with no leaks, and there can’t be any tears or gashes on the surface. Thermal and other methods of scanning radiation can be used if there is a need for deeper examination.

The testing of muscle systems is oriented towards challenging the physical abilities and functions of the android, but it’s impossible to completely separate it from the body structure. It’s better to examine the android as a whole and test all of its capabilities as one working machine unit. One popular method is to push it to its physical limits while overseeing the results.

The sensory systems of an android contain the same main categories as a human’s senses: Sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch. It’s crucial in order to achieve a humane design for androids to have and use these abilities. To increase their humanization, the sensory systems cannot be limited to the five; sense of balance, temperature, proprioception and in some models sexual stimulation, though it works differently from humans, are important.

In most areas, androids’ senses, especially where they’re not based on any specific sensory organ, are superior to humans. Their perception of time, agency and familiarity does not rely on the fragile human memory. The memory components are just computer parts containing information, ones and zeros, that can be copied, extracted and even manipulated like any data.

Without special equipment it’s difficult to test how an android receives the information about its body and the surrounding environment, but it’s easy to measure what information it receives.

The bulk of the physical level in your testing schedule with Connor consist of the muscle and sensory systems. Everything else will overlap with them in some way. After he is clear on the physical functionality, you’ll focus on the social modules, which is more or less your specialty.

“So that presentation about the physiology of androids is what made you pursue a career in the field?” Connor asks, dissipating the cloud of memories in your mind.

You focus back onto his brown eyes. You have only just returned to your office from the company cafeteria where you and Connor were instantly swarmed by eager colleagues. He was not fazed at all by the amount of people who wanted to congratulate and wish good luck to you both. In truth, you were the one who wanted to just grab the cup of tea and run back upstairs.

“Well not entirely… It was more about how he seemed to think that only boys could like robots.” You flash Connor a winning smile, feeling pride of your pettiness decades past.

“I see,” he replies and sets to sit down, “Your colleagues seem to think highly of you. They were eager to see what becomes of us.”

His choice of words entices a tense chuckle out of you and warms your face. You make yourself busy by leaning over the datapad on the desk and start skimming the social relations module list to see if there is anything to mark as checked based on the cafeteria visit. Connor just sits still, slightly looking around with a neutral smile on his face like the perfect plastic sculpture he is.

“Alright, let’s move forward…” you say and straighten your back.

Paragraph seven, physical functions.

Each body part of an android has a specified list of functions – movement area, rotation, strength and so on. It’s the part you’ve been least looking forward to. It’s mechanic, pure numbers that can be measured in pre-defined scales. You just have to order the machine to execute and see does it achieve the promised figures.

Being the most advanced prototype built so far means Connor’s physical abilities are remarkable. He is optimized for strength and speed, and the ultimate limitations derive from the size of his body. The literal heavy lifting part will have to wait for a more suitable environment, but checking the baseline, such as the rotation and angles of joints can be done in your office.

Toes, feet, knees, legs, hips, joints, joints, muscles, more joints… Mostly it’s a boring list to go through, until one sentence makes you so flustered you wish you could clip through the floor.

Why on earth would a detective android need a fully functioning–

“Doctor?” Connor asks when you fall silent. His LED is blinking.

Your gaze jolts up from the datapad and you can feel your ears warming alarmingly.

“Uh, there must be a mistake on the list. I-I’ll notify my superior about it,” you splutter hastily. You try think back to the assembly, cursing why you didn’t pay attention to such details. You were too charmed by the face to even look… down.

How the hell are you supposed to test that?

Looking at the earnest, tranquil smile and the dark depths of the brown eyes in front of you, you know exactly what it would take to conduct a test. The thumping of your heart beats in your ears covers every other sound.

You clear your throat awkwardly and resist the urge to fan your face with something. “Moving on to the next part.”

Connor nods.

“Fine motor skills – wrists, hands and fingers. At this point we’re just looking for flaws in the flow of the motion, so we’ll know your parts are functioning correctly.”

“I understand.”

You move to stand closer to him, realizing you have been unintentionally keeping a distance, when his pleasant scent hits your senses again.

“P-please pick this up using your index finger and thumb.” You hold out a small bead on your palm. The same test is used for infants and judging by the look on Connor’s face, he knows it too.

Is he releasing pheromones? You wonder as your eyes scan the curve of his mouth and dart to the strand of hair on his forehead. Each inhale brings his scent into your lungs and it doesn’t seem to dissipate as it should. It’s annoying and making you woozy. Your feet feel light and refuse to move even when Connor ends the test after using each of his eight different fingers and both thumbs in all possible combinations to carry it out.

You didn’t look at the motions at all.

“Very good, Connor.” The huskiness of your voice surprises you and you try to clear it out. You need to take a step away and use placing the bead to the desk as an excuse.

Next you ask Connor to weave his fingers in the air, to tap them down in a flowing pattern that goes back and forth one at a time.

Connor follows the instructions without even looking, but after he finishes the first motion, you both are staring at his hand in a perturbed silence.

He does it again. And again. An unnerving sensation bloats in your throat.

Fuck.

There is a small, unnatural twitch of his fingers, only a slightest disturbance in the pattern. His expression twists in focus and confusion. It shouldn’t be there.

“Can you feel it?” you ask.

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

You watch him do the motion again.

“There might be a nerve attachment issue,” you suggest.

“I think so too,” Connor agrees.

You don’t want to tear apart the whole android for such an insignificant mistake, but the problem may lie anywhere between Connor’s spine and fingertips. The nerve endings are flexible like rubber bands that are constantly flexed and relaxed. An important part of the system is the durability: The proverbial band can be flexed over and over to ease certain motions. It works just like human’s muscle memory; motions are easier after repetition. In theory, that is.

The problem might occur only in this small gesture, which would make it easily repairable. You can always replace the hand or the whole arm if the issue persists, but it won’t be cheap and so it shouldn’t be your first option. It’s probably just a slight calibration mistake in the assembly.

You need something to force the nerves, like physical therapy.

You walk around your desk to grab your purse and take out your wallet.

“Try with this.”

Connor looks at the coin on your palm before taking it. His LED spins as he is making the curious connection between finger movements and a coin.

The object supports the motion and forces the fingers into the right position. At least that’s how it works in theory, so you hold your breath as Connor tries the motion again. After each clean weave, you inhale just a little and the tight know in your throat loosens.

“It works,” Connor says. The speed of the coin flipping through his fingers increases rapidly.

Calibration is the key. A light huff of relief elates from your lips.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Even though you do yourself.

Connor looks up from the coin in between his fingers. The smile on his face rivals the sun that is tinting the room with light. He looks… impressed, you think in the lack of a better word.

“Interesting solution. Thank you, Doctor. I said it before, but I really look forward to completing these tests with you,” he says in that bewitchingly earnest tone that has your heart make a few extra leaps.

“N-not at all. I’m just doing my job.” You strive for a smile, but it requires the response of too many muscles to work. You’re still booting from being blinded by his smile.

As much as you’re interested in seeing what will come in the future regarding your work with Connor, there is a dangerous tingle in the pit of your stomach you can’t put out: The sizzling embers of a feeling you’re scared to recognize, unwilling to consciously think of. It’s warm and Connor’s smile only makes it glow and itch.

Professionalism with androids can have nothing to do with feelings of any kind. You can’t afford to have your judgment clouded. If the RK800 model turns out to be defective, you need to be ready to make the call. A lot of other people’s work, hopes and money are riding on it.

For the weeks to come, you’ll have to brace yourself for infinite meetings with software engineers, psychologists, and other AI experts and researchers. Soon your calendar will be filled by consultations with specialists of different areas. Hopefully the morgue and some officials of Detroit Police Department will agree to have Connor for a visit. It will be good for him to get to show off his skills before actually joining the Detroit Police.

Now you just need something to keep your head in the game and douse the perilous warmth pooling inside you.

September 14th 10:23 AM

Your boss Ethan’s face peeks from the doorway and he knocks with his knuckles on the open door.

“Got a minute?”

Connor turns to look over his shoulder and you roll the chair away from him. “Of course. What is it?” you say.

Ethan steps inside your office and quickly takes a look around. “I gotta go to a meeting so I thought I’d stop by to make sure you’re coming tonight? It’ll do good for your career.”

Oh shit.

“U-uhh, yes.” Your tone makes Connor turn back to you and eye you suspiciously. “I’ll try.”

Ethan smiles. He knows you hate events like the one in question. He folds his arms over his chest and walks closer, each slow step widening the smile on his face.

“So. Is mister Three going to be put on show tonight?” He downright grins as he takes the tone of a co-conspirator.

“Nope. I broke it off,” you reply hastily and try to ignore Connor’s slightly tilted stare. As long as you’re working with Connor, Three, Four or anyone else is not a topic you wish to bring up in his company. Just to avoid any awkward inquiries concerning your love life.

Ethan rests his hands on his hips. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. What’d he say?”

“’Necessary evil.’” you roll your eyes to the ceiling and glance at Connor. “What does that make me? Doctor Frankenstein? Jeez…”

Ethan shakes his head but can’t help the amused twitch of his lips. “Not the answer you were looking for, I take it?”

You nod once. Connor’s curious brown eyes are still examining your expressions as he listens to the conversation between you and your boss intently. You absent-mindedly wonder does he understand any of it. Can he comprehend the topic and your objectives behind it?

Or who knows, maybe he understands the answer you’re looking for better than you do yourself.

“Well in any case, you won’t have to be alone if you decide to come,” Ethan continues.

Perhaps it’s your worst quality or your boss’s best, but he always knows when you’re not entirely honest with him.

“Yeah, like I said, I’ll try to come”–you give him a weak smile–“No promises, though.”

“Good. I’ll see you there, then!” With that and the smile that has turned into a teasing one, Ethan leaves you sitting in the middle of the room with one confused android.

You lean back in the chair, staring at the ceiling and groan. “Whyyyy…”

Connor’s head tilts even more as you drag your palms down your face. His LED circles a few rounds. You can see the “adapting to human unpredictability”-code flashing in his eyes.

“Doctor, if I may ask, what’s this evening?” His tone is perfectly polite.

You huff and focus on him. “A conference, I guess, but it’s a synonym to ‘boring’. Lots of people I don’t know, and I just have to try to smile and greet everyone.” You heave a sigh. “I’d much rather stay home and… stare at the wall.”

Connor’s brows crease. “Are androids allowed?” he asks.

“I… don’t know actually. Last year I told Ethan I wasn’t feeling well and left early,” you say, completely without shame and hope Connor never brings it up with your boss.

The RK700 model, Connor’s predecessor, was exhibited in the previous year’s event, but it looked really different at that time. You could’ve never guessed you would be the one to ultimately initiate it into production.

“I could accompany you,” Connor proposes.

You seek shelter from his chocolate eyes in the display on the desk. The list of untested social modules is open on it – behavior patterns, adaptation and improvisation, to name a few.

“I know you’re more comfortable in the company of androids,” he continues matter-of-factly.

“Rude, Connor.”

“I’m sorry. It’s what I’ve gathered from observing you these past four weeks.”

You stare at the screen for a moment, thinking, almost letting yourself get excited. You don’t even have a dress because you never were going to go. The occasion is fancy; it’s the highlight event of the year amidst people working with AI. The dress code dictates cocktail dresses for ladies and suits for men.

You would need to rent a suit for Connor, then.

Connor, the most handsome and advanced android model ever created, in a suit.

“Okay then,” you finally say, “but it’s better if we don’t tell anyone you’re an android.”

He smirks and nods. “Got it.”

Next Chapter

Tagging (lmk if you want to be tagged or not): @sevansheart​ @precursor-ao3​ @gberryb​ @owlwrites​ @lucianhuntress​ @singlebecauseofthechocobros​ @bleucommelhiver​ @sherniwrites​ @n-ulll​ @mccastle-boi​ @toastyfiction​ @touzokukana​ @imaginovator​ @avispate​ @kuolematkorjaavat​ @caladheil​ @lusiifer​ @shadows-echoes​

I CAN GIVE YOU ALL YOU DESIRE

Brief Summary: You become Kylo’s concubine, he takes very good care of you

A/N: Contains TLJ Spoilers, very nsfw, summary under the cut

Request: Ok so what about this–Supreme Leader™ decides to raid a planet and while raiding it he finds RC. She’s just a humble poor working person who’s not into the whole “war” thing but Supreme daddy™ takes an immediate interest in her. He decides to take her with him as a lil concubine but gives her the finest clothes and whatever she desires and RC is like “wait this is the best gig in the galaxy I get to have sex with this hot guy and we adore each other and I’m living a good life” smut plz thanks. 

“Push forward, seize the rebels and execute them,” Kylo directed.

“Yes Supreme Leader.”

Under Kylo’s leadership, the First Order had gained a vast amount of territory. He was conquering systems like it was nothing, the fear of his name alone easily bringing leaders to their knees. There were always some who would fight back, but with the order’s military capabilities they were easily suppressed.

It was all going to plan, returning the galaxy to a state of order even stronger than the days of the empire. Soon the galaxy would be at his fingertips, and once he had that he would earn the namesake of his grandfather.

What he didn’t expect was for it to be so lonely at the top, with no one to have to report to or no one to guide him he was on his own. He enjoyed the independence, but craved the attention of another at his side. Now that he had that power he could enjoy such luxuries, of human companionship that was unfamiliar to him.

But he couldn’t seem to find a person worthy of that, worthy of sharing his body with. Women threw themselves at him but he rejected each one, knowing that they only wanted to take advantage of him. He hadn’t found anyone with pure intentions, and he knew he wouldn’t find anyone like that in the first order - not with his role. He knew he had desires, ones that made his cock hard and kept him up at night - but he couldn’t seem to find anyone to elicit that response from him. He felt numb.

And it was driving him crazy, he felt constantly horny but could never find relief. He needed to find a partner fast, because he was even beginning to grow numb to his own hand. It’d take him ages just to get off, sometimes he’d even give up from the frustration of it. It was partly because he couldn’t find anyone to fantasize about, though he could stimulate his body his mind was bored.

You watched as the First Order marched through your town and sighed, you had no desire to be apart of this. It wasn’t like you had much to give them anyways, you were barely making ends meet - even having to sacrifice meals to keep a roof over your head. It wasn’t the prettiest life, but it was your own and that’s what mattered -at least that’s what you told yourself during your lonely nights.

“Y/N, did you get all the equipment?” Your boss asks you. It was important to get it all back before the order got to it, or else you’d lose it.

“No, shit I forgot I was in a hurry,” You cursed.

“Well if you still want this job you better go get it,” Your boss threatened.

Damn, just when you were trying to avoid all this you had to head straight towards it. You snuck between the rubble trying to avoid storm troopers, making your way back the field where you left the equipment. You didn’t know how you were going to get it back all on your own, it was quite heavy but you were determined to try. You hoist the straps connected to the machine over your shoulders, using all your might to drag it behind you.

The effort makes your muscles burns, test tight as you let out a huff of effort. You move slowly, using sheer willpower to make up for your own strength. In this moment you thank yourself for all of your experience in physical labor, it gives you the strength to pick up your pace and you’re gaining steady traction.

Kylo making his way back to the Silencer notices this, he feels it in the force. It’s something powerful, and when he sees just where it’s coming from his heart jumps. Oh were you a thing of beauty, sweat beading on your brow as strands of hair fell from your bun and the look in your eyes…it was so determined. He suddenly felt incredibly turned on, imagining what it would be like to gaze into those eyes as he fucked you or to hear those animalistic noises you were making as you rode him.

He wanted you terribly.

“Precious thing, what are you doing pulling this heavy machine all on your own?” Kylo coos. He walks over to you and places his hand on the equipment, effectively stopping it in your tracks.

What now? Angry, you turn around to face the asshole who was interrupting you. But nothing could prepare you for who you saw. You knew immediately he wasn’t local, guessing that he was from the First Order. You had never seen a face like that before, so handsome. And was he flirting with you? To say you weren’t used to such attention was an understatement, you probably looked like a mess right now; panting, face dirtied, hair frizzy, and you were just dripping it sweat. Yet here was this man looking at you like he could eat you up, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

You finally caught your breath enough to reply to him, not knowing how much he loved seeing you breathless with your cheeks red and mouth slightly parted. “I’m doing my job, now if you please I have to get back to it,” You turned away from him and began pulling the machine. As much as you liked talking to this man, you had a livelihood to protect.

Kylo was shocked that you’d just ignore him like that, and he was the Supreme Leader! Oh, he liked you. He could watch you pull that thing all day, but that would mean letting you get away and he wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. So he decided to play a little game.

In a few strides Kylo was blocking your path, preventing you from moving any further. “Hey! I don’t have all day buddy,” You glared at him. Kylo just crossed his arms and laughed, enjoying your struggle. You’d try and move to the side but he’d only block you, until you gave up.

“Fine. What do you want from me?” You drop the straps; walking closer to him so you look him in the eye. Sure you had to stand on your toes and even then you didn’t reach him, but you weren’t about to let some first order hotshot intimidate you. Maybe it was going to get you killed, but you faced that risk about everyday so you could care less.

“I want you, sweet girl,” Kylo purred, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Newsflash asshole, I’m not for sale,” You gave him a look of disgust. You couldn’t even believe that he’d want you in that way, whoever he was.

Kylo chose his next words carefully, deciding how to word things. “I wouldn’t want you to come if you felt that way, know that if you gave yourself to me I would give myself to you in return and I have a lot to offer.”

“Oh yeah? Just who are you?” You challenged. Even if you did want to get off of this rock, and even if you had thought of having a sugar daddy on numerous occasions you couldn’t just trust a stranger so easily.

“I am the Supreme Leader of the First Order, but you may call me Kylo,” He smirked.

“Well Kylo, you can fuck off. I have work to do,” You frowned. Supreme Leader my ass, what a load of bull. There was no way this cocky bastard was that powerful.

Know when to retaliate Ren. “If that’s what you wish, but my offer still stands - use this to call me or if you ever get lonely,” He handed you a com link.

You took it and shoved it in your pocket, hoping it would make him go away faster. Before you could get back to pulling the machinery, Kylo beat you to it. Using the force, he lifted the entire thing. “Just tell me where you’d like it,” There was that smirk again.

This had you panicking; if he was a force user, a powerful one at that, then maybe he wasn’t lying. But you weren’t dead yet, and he certainly would’ve killed you by now if he was planning to. And the look on your bosses face was certainly worth it when he saw Kylo trailing behind you with the equipment floating in the air above him.

Kylo left you reluctantly, only due to the feeling that you’d return to him. He could see you with him in a vision, he just needed to be patient for now.

The wait for your call was torture. He thought that he would enjoy having someone to fantasize about, but this was awful. All he could do was dream of what it would be like to have your hands pumping his cock instead of his, imagine how your face would look when you came. And it only got worse as the days went on, he only got more desperate for you.

It was getting to the point where he’d start fantasizing of you during the most inopportune moments, that he’d have to excuse himself to relieve the ache. He wondered if you ever thought of him, if you’d ever call. He was almost starting to lose hope, believing that his visions were long and that he was ultimately destined to be alone.

That was until one night he got your call, your tearful voice came through the comm promising that you’d pay him back and that you just needed a place to stay. “I’ll be there in an hour, be ready,” Was his quick reply. He was worried about you now, something bad must’ve happened. On his way over he thought of how he was going to comfort you, sweet talk you into his arms.

True to his word he was there, alone. You weren’t crying anymore but he could see evidence of it, and you looked in pretty bad shape. You were shaking, it was raining out and you were completely soaked as you had no shelter. Your cheeks looked more gaunt as well, and Kylo’s heart ached for you. Whoever did this to you would pay dearly.

Unlike the last time, he has no cocky remarks for you - a look of concern replacing his smirk. You were just relieved to be inside, it had been a few days since you lost your home. This wasn’t ideal and you hoped you were making the right decision to trust Kylo, because you didn’t have any other choice but to trust him.

Kylo was grateful that he came prepared with some extra clothes for you, to replace your wet ones. “Here,” He handed them to you, turning around to start the ship as you changed.

Once you were redressed you sat in the chair besides Kylo, still shivering from the cold. Wordlessly, Kylo took off his cape and placed it over you. He was happy to see you, to have you with him but not under these circumstances. He just hoped he could make things better for you.

“You’ll have to stay in my quarters, but the bed should be big enough to share,” Kylo warned you as you approached the cruiser. You nodded in understanding, already suspecting something like that. You were surprised that he was being like this with you, less flirtation and more…caring. You didn’t think he had it in him.

You followed him throughout the base, noticing how everyone stared at him as you passed. He clearly was someone important to the First Order, and once you heard someone refer to him as Supreme Leader you realized that he hadn’t lied to you. It was only reaffirmed when you entered his quarters, which probably had the biggest bed you had ever seen in your life. It wasn’t as luxurious as you would expect for someone so high up, but it was certainly nicer than your dingy little sleep mat.

“Thank you, Kylo.”

Kylo’s heart fluttered as you said his name, what a heavenly sound. He wanted to just scoop you in his arms and nuzzle your cheek, telling you how you were safe now and how precious you are.

“Let me get you something to eat,” He says.

“You don’t have to, it’s so late,” You shook your head.

“I know you’re hungry little one, you need to eat,” He frowned.

You don’t even have the energy to fight with him, so you let him care for you. His suspicious are proven correct when he sees how quickly you eat, like you haven’t eaten in days. “I’ll pay back everything I promise.”

“No, you owe me nothing, though I would like to know your name.” You’d never have to pay for anything again if it were up to him.

“It’s Y/N.” You say quietly.

“Y/N…” Kylo purred, grinning. “Now Y/N you need to sleep, and tomorrow you’re going to tell me just who did this to you,” Kylo spoke venomously. He pulled the covers back for you, placing them over you and tucking you in. He couldn’t resist placing a kiss on your forehead, saying “Sweet dreams,” before he turned off the light. He undressed in the dark and made sure to leave plenty of space between you.

You knocked out like a light, falling asleep in mere minutes in Kylo’s luxurious bed. It had to be the softest sheets that you had ever laid on, you almost wished you had said yes earlier because of it. You were so exhausted that any dreams you had weren’t remembered.

Kylo woke to you curled up against his chest, arm across his torso as your head rested against him like a pillow. He could feel your breast pressing against him and it made him shiver, he just prayed to the force that it wouldn’t stir his cock. He smiled as he felt you nuzzle against him, petting your hair softly. “So precious,” He murmured.

You awoke surrounded by warmth, an unfamiliar warmth of skin. You jolted up, not remembering where you were. You’re greeted by Kylo’s tender eyes, admiring your sleepy face. “Shh just relax sweet girl, it’s only me,” He soothed you.

You blushed realizing that you were in his bed, against his bare chest and hugging him. “Did we…?” You couldn’t remember last night, it was all a blur.

“No, no,” Kylo chuckled. “If we did you’d certainly remember, you’d still feel it.”

“Oh.” You blushed more, humiliated.

“You’re so cute when you blush,” Kylo smiled. It only made you more embarrassed, and you buried your face in his chest to hide your red face. You could feel the vibrations of his laughter, along with the muscle. You couldn’t believe you were in bed with this man, no wonder his matress was so large he was practically a giant. Your mind drifted to what it would be like to be with him intimately, how his muscles would feel against you.

“Now pet, be careful with those thoughts. I might just make them a reality,” Kylo tsked.

“I’m sorry!” You quickly apologized. Kylo only smiled, you were so different then when he had first met you, showing the vulnerability that you hid when you first met. It made him feel fiercely protective of you, and he tightened his hold on your waist.

You lifted his head to look in his eyes, seeing the sparkle of mischief in them. You didn’t know why but you felt surprisingly safe with Kylo, maybe taking him up on his original offer wouldn’t be so bad after all. It was what you truly wanted, love. But it was a desire that you had to bury over the years, with the freedom of not having to worry about your next meal your mind was less occupied and could think of other things.

“As nice as it is to lay with you like this, I must go. I’ll make sure to check on you throughout the day, and with this you can ask for anything you desire,” He handed you his personal datapad.

“Is there anything I can do?” You offer.

“No precious, just relax, enjoy yourself.” He was charmed that you would even offer, you were so sweet.

“Okay Kylo.” You watched, blushing as he put on his clothes. You felt embarrassed but you couldn’t look away, he was carved like a god. You already longed to run your hands over him, Kylo could sense your thoughts and growled. This was going to be a long day, but he’d handle you later.

A few days passed as you adjusted to your new life, you were already more than grateful yet Kylo wanted to give you more. Just yesterday people came in with an entire new wardrobe for you, made from the finest fabrics in the galaxy. And while you continued to ask him what you could do he continue to refuse you offer. You were beginning to crave him, the heaviness of his arm around your waist, the brief warmth of his hand touching your back, the softness of his lips against his forehead and still you wanted more.

So you made a plan, if he wasn’t going to let you do anything for him, you were going to accept his offer. The thought of being completely his excited you, as well of having him to yourself. From what you had seen so far you knew he would treat you well, he was so kind to you. Seeing him with others affirmed this, he was much more cold and authoritarian it made you realize how differently he treated you.

You picked out one of the more revealing dresses from your wardrobe, one that clinged to your body and showed off generous cleavage. It was black velvet, and with some red lipstick you felt like you could kill a man with one look. Tonight your dinner with Kylo was going to be a little more special.

You smoothed your dress when you heard Kylo enter, he could sense that you were excited about something and he was curious to know what. He hadn’t had time to visit you today and he was missing you dearly, he needed this dinner with you. It had only been a few days but he could feel himself growing very attached to you.

“Oh my, precious you simply look ravishing,” Kylo stopped in his tracks, eyes hungrily taking you in. He had to wonder what your motives were, because it seemed like you were trying to seduce him.

You sauntered over to him with a confidence you didn’t know you had, and placed your hand on his shoulder. “All thanks to your generosity love,” You grinned at him.

Love. He could get used to you calling him that. He took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your fingertips gingerly. He looked down at you through hooded lids, “Tonight I’m going to make you mine, would you like that?”

You shivered, knowing just what he meant by that. “Yes, I think I would.”

Kylo lets out a shaky breath, “Then dinner can wait, I want to have you now.” He pulled you closer to him, just brushing his lips down your neck. His warm breath skirts across your skin, and you can feel your anticipation building.

But quickly his slow soft touches grow eager, as he begins kissing your neck roughly. His tongue is searing, his teeth sharp as he marks what is his, “Mine,” he growls. He looks at you as he claims it, before capturing your lips in a wet kiss. You know your lipstick is getting everywhere but you don’t care, you knew he was going to love it that way.

“Just look at you,” He hissed, turning you against his back. In front of you was a mirror, and you could clearly see lipstick smeared all over your jaw and Kylo’s mouth. “You’re so beautiful,” Kylo watched his hands go up your body in the mirror, briefly massaging your inner thigh before moving upward. He pulls the straps of your dress down, revealing your bare breasts. He tugs your earlobe between his teeth as he takes your breasts in his hands, massaging and pushing them upwards.

“Such perfect tits, that mold perfectly to my hands,” Kylo looks down at your breasts in his hands, admiring them. You whimper as he pinches your nipples, making him chuckle. You can feel his cock pressing into your backside and you start grinding against him.

“Filthy girl, impatient are we?” He snarls. He couldn’t have you doing that tonight, he needed to be in control or else he wouldn’t last.

“Kylo please,” You whined. You wanted to feel his cock against you again, his muscled chest at your back pressed against you.

Kylo didn’t respond, more interested in pulling down your dress and revealing the rest of you to him. You blushed when you saw the wet spot over your panties, looking away from the mirror. “Oh precious, I bet you have such a pretty little pussy,” Kylo turns your head back towards the mirror. He pulls down your underwear, “I think I was right,” He chuckles, spreading your folds apart with two fingers.

“So wet for me,” He takes his fingers coated in your juices to his lips, sucking your taste off of them. “Mmmm,” He moans. He needed more, and he needed you on the bed. He picked you up in his arms and carried you over, placing you on top of the sheets.

“This is unfair,” You frowned at him.

“What’s unfair?”

“You’re still dressed and I’m not, that’s what’s unfair.”

“Oh, if you just wanted to see me all you had to do was asked,” Kylo smirked. He began stripping for you, taking pride in the way looked at him. You were blushing again too, which was just too sweet. When he takes off his underwear his cock juts out proudly, challenging you with its size. You knew you definitely were going to feel him after this.

Kylo crawled on the bed and settled over you, kissing you once more before prying apart your thighs. He doesn’t waste time licking a broad stripe up your cunt, as he goes straight to your clit. You arch your hips towards his face, you hear his voice in your mind “Tastes so damn good, I fucking love this little pussy, so pretty.”

His filthy words made you squirm, “Kylo please, I need you.”

Kylo lifted his head from between your legs, chin glistening with your slick. “You need what? My cock, for me to fuck you?” He cocked his head.

“Yes! Please, I want to feel your cock inside of me,” You plead.

“My sweet, sweet girl you know just what I like to hear,” Kylo pauses, considering you. “I’ll give you what you want, you’ll feel me tomorrow, and the day after that. I’ll make sure your pretty pussy never forgets what I feel like.” Kylo promised.

He kisses your lips in between his as his cock prods your entrance, coating himself in your juices before sliding inside of you. He moans as he feels your walls contract around him, perfectly squeezing around his cock. You feel so full of him that you can barely think, the stretch is surprisingly pleasant.

He grunts as he begins fucking you in earnest, pulling out to the tip only to slam back into you. Everything about Kylo was deliciously rough, from the way his hand gripped your ass to the power he put behind each thrust. You were lying down but it still made you bounce. You cried out as he angled your hips up so he could reach deeper, your hands grabbing at his back holding on to him for dear life.

Kylo snarled as you pulled his hair, biting your neck in return. His hand wrapped around your neck, not constricting any of your air but applying a firm pressure. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you hard.

He knew he was reaching his limit, so he brought his hand to your clit - roughly circling the bud to make you cum. You were moaning so loudly at this point, mixed in with his animalistic grunts and growls it was quite a sound to hear. “I want this pretty pussy to cum for me,” Kylo purred, rubbing faster and applying more friction. He felt your walls flutter around him as you came, crying out his name.

Your mind felt fuzzy with pleasure as Kylo’s hips slowed, and you released one final moan as you felt him cum inside-filling you with his warmth. “Kylo, thank you,” You caressed his hair.

“So precious,” Kylo cooed, peppering kisses all along your neck. His touch turned gentle as he slid out of you, pulling you into his arms as you rested on top of him. “Now, you are mine,” He declared with a grin on his face. “My love.”